The “s” Word: The uncomfortable truth about facing our faith in public

        Going to a private, christian school has been a great experience for me. I specifically enjoy the one-on-one relationship with my instructors, and the close environment with my peers. However, despite this close relationship, there are a few words one does not mention casually. One, Salvation. There are so many different perspectives on the matter, it has become controversial just to state your opinion. I see this tension gradually rising even in my own small environment. Everyone has heard the story of the little daughter or son on their first school bus ride....the parents tell friends of when their little child came home, telling them of what they had heard the “big kids” say on the bus-the “s” word! The parents are first stunned at the fact that their little darling has been exposed to such a “dirty” word, only later to find out that the word was not what they initially thought it to be, but merely the term “stupid”. Salvation, in my opinion, can be put in the place of the “s” word in the story, and the bus replaced by modern society. You are the parents. When you hear Salvation in the media, you are defensive and taken aback...you either disagree strongly with the idea being presented about Salvation, or you agree vehemently and proclaim this enthusiasm with violence. You then become angry, even if you agree with the idea being presented about Salvation because you just know there are others who disagree with you and you wish they would just understand! 

The root of the matter is, we do not truly understand Salvation. We think of Salvation as untouchable, that we can never understand. This frustrates most, so they give up. They tell themselves they are comfortable with the unknown, yet deep frustration is brewing beneath. Then, when someone mentions Salvation, we explode, our frustration guides our action and our words, and we become hostile towards our neighbors over a simple question or proposition. 

Sometimes, when I  find myself consumed with despair over my surroundings, the lack of Truth to be found in society, I think about a personal monastery I have engineered in my mind. It could be compared to a fantasy football team..I think about who would be in my monastery if it was real, and what would be going on inside the stone walls. That was a minor rabbit trail, but it leads me to my next hypothesis...in my ideal community, we are not taken aback by such conversations. It is beautiful to talk about Salvation, Truth, and our Father. It brings us closer to Him, not in wisdom, but in relationship. Our relationship with our Maker grows when we long to know Him, not long to know what He knows. Yes, we desire to be like Him and we are made in His image, but we are surely not made to be God. We are His people, His children, and His creation. Beauty in found in Him, and in relationship with our neighbors, also God’s creation. When we find delight in the beauty of conversation about the weather or theology, we are becoming closer to the Maker. 

The conclusion of my post is, that instead of being offended or frustrated with conversation over “closed-door” matters regarding faith, we should delight in the opportunity to converse...we bring joy to our Father this way. If any of you devoted readers have gotten this far through my post, I thank you for reading and would enjoy reading your comments. Blessings and Curses to all! -Nora B.

The Upcoming Winter Solstice

December 21st, the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, and fast becoming one of my favorite days.  Not only is December 21st the birthday of a dear friend, - cheers, Bonita! - it is a reminder to me of God’s marvelous, unexpected goodness to me at a time when I thought I would never be free of the pit in which I found myself. - Let me pause now to apologize to all of my daughter’s friends who are reading this; you will undoubtedly be at least a little creeped out by what I am about to write.  I can only say that I won’t dwell on it, so just cringe and read on. -  The wondrous precision of modern medicine tells me that my son, now 13 weeks old, was conceived last year on December 21st.  In the longest night of the year, God began a new life in my family.  

To really understand what that means to me, you have to know that the months leading up to last December were the darkest I have ever experienced, full of terrifying moments when I both doubted my faith and knew that my God was the only sure hold to which I could cling.  In the year or so prior to that long night, I learned loss and pain as both a spectator and a partaker, and I was undone and poured out so that I honestly thought there wasn’t anything left.  During my time in the pit, I came pretty close to just giving in to the chill of hopelessness, letting myself drift into the hypothermic sleep of the broken.  Only the prayers of those who love me and the mercy of God enabled me to look beyond what I felt so that I might be comforted by what and Whom I know.  As the days of last December were growing shorter, I was beginning to lift my eyes over the rim of the hole, but my brain was still doing a lot of convincing, often without success, to get my heart to entertain the idea that God had any new beauty waiting out there for me.  

I have never been more wrong.  In the days since that last longest night, the LORD has truly dealt exceedingly abundantly with me.  He has given me a son, a beautiful, smiling boy, and He has brought to fruition a dream I had all but given up on, doing so with absolute extravagance.  The beauty that God has brought into my life this year is all the more vivid to me because I view it against the dark backdrop of what came before, and I find myself savoring that goodness more deliberately and intensely.  My daily awareness of God’s presence in my joy has been intensified by His presence in my pain, by knowing that, after enduring the cross - the ultimate suffering - for my sake, my merciful Savior deigns to walk with me though my pain, inviting me to know Him as the Man of Sorrows and reminding me that He, too, is acquainted with grief.

Now, I don’t believe for a second that God causes suffering, even as a vehicle to know Him more deeply.  In fact, I hate that idea.  Sin causes suffering, and, though He may allow it for His glory, as in the case of Job, or use it to further His perfect plan, as with our Savior’s cross, I believe to my core that God hates suffering just about as much as He hates the sin that brought it into His Creation to begin with. What I love and what I believe beyond any doubt is that God graciously redeems suffering, that He finds a way to bring beauty to the most scattered brokenness, to bring light to the deepest holes and the longest, darkest nights.  I can’t help but marvel sometimes, particularly when I look at my son, that, when my life seemed darkest to me, God Almighty was busy sowing into it new life and new beauty and new confidence in His majestic sovereignty.  

So as I look toward this 21st of this December, the longest night of this year, I bear in mind the word of the LORD to Isaiah: “The LORD will march out like a champion, like a warrior he will stir up his zeal. . . ‘I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth’” (Is. 42:13 & 16).  And I am profoundly grateful that, to borrow a phrase from a speaker I once heard, there is no dark so dark that it overcomes the Light!