My last blog stirred up some debate about whether or not prideful people experience God's discipline. I'd like to tell you why I think God is not just a warm and fuzzy, everybody's-going-to-heaven kind of god. I'd also like to explain why I think he's not just a horrible, punishing, angry god who zaps everyone with lightning bolts over every tiny infraction.
I believe that God is more like a well-balanced tire than a lopsided feather comforter with all of the stuffing shoved to one end. The Bible clearly tells us about God's character.
According to Wayne Grudem, who wrote Systematic Theology, God is an invisible, spiritual being who knows all things, has the wisdom to choose what is best for his children, and speaks only the truth in all matters. (Read John 4:24, John 1:18, I John 3:20 Job 12:13, and John 17:3 if you don't believe Grudem or me about God's character.)
Wayne Grudem explains that God's ten moral attributes include:
l) goodness (Luke 18:19),
2) love (I John 4:8),
3) mercy (Psalm 103:8),
4) grace (I Peter 5:10),
5) patience (Romans 2:4),
6) holiness (Isaiah 6:3),
7) peace (I Corinthians 14:33),
8) righteousness (Deuteronomy 32:4),
9) justice (Isaiah 45:19), and
10) jealousy (Exodus 20:5).
We all like it when God pours out his goodness, love, grace, mercy, and patience on us. I am very thankful that out of his great love and mercy, God sent his Son to die for my sins so that I don't have to spend eternity in hell, experiencing painful punishments for all of the wrong things I have done. But to believe that these warm and fuzzy traits make up the full extent of God's character is wrong. Giving him only these five attributes makes him very lopsided.
We must look closely at the last five moral attributes of God, too. If we believe that he knows all things and brings about what is best for us, we must accept the fact that our jealous God, who is holy, peace-loving, and righteous, cannot allow his children to behave outside of his boundaries of justice. He disciplines his children, just as we here on earth discipline our own children.
Because God loves us, he holds us to a very high standard: we are to take on those same ten attributes listed above. This is an incredibly high bar that has been set for us. Jesus was perfection in flesh. Of course, it will take lots of discipline to form us into beings who resemble Christ!
God's jealousy does not allow him to watch us chasing after something temporal here on earth, all the while ignoring him. He will discipline us to bring us back into a love relationship with him. His jealousy is not the negative sort that we think of between humans. It stems from his desire to watch over us and protect us from sinning.
Sometimes, we see people sinning over and over and over. There are times when they get caught. When we see sinners receiving punishment through the legal system or other means that God allows, we feel vindicated. We rejoice when God's righteousness results in justice. This is natural, because we are made in the image of God, who cannot tolerate sin.
There are also instances when it looks as if evil people are getting away with murder. They twist our legal system and slip out through looopholes in the law. We wonder where God is and why he doesn't do something.
God's character demands justice in our world, and because we are made in his likeness, we expect justice, too. Just because it looks as if someone is getting away with sin doesn't mean that God isn't seeing everything and working out a plan to restore that person to him. It might take plenty of love, goodness, grace, patience, and mercy on God's part, but you can be sure that he'll bring about holiness, justice, peace, and righteousness in the end through his jealous love.
There are other times when we watch people living faithfully according to God's Word, and terrible things happen to them. We wonder why God didn't stop the tragedies. We must remember, that just because we believe in Jesus and get baptized does not mean that God will take away all of our troubles. On the contrary, becoming a Christian frequently means that God turns up the heat of his refining fire.
It is not 'unChristian' for us to rejoice when sinners find themselves on the receving end of God's justice, provided that we are happy that they now have an opportunity to turn their lives over to Christ. If, on the other hand, we cheer because someone who has hurt us got punished, and we continue to watch for opportunities to gloat about their suffering, then we are merely expressing our vindictive side.
We are commanded, above all else, to love one another. If I truly love others, I will do my best to jealously guard their souls from sin, just as God does. I often pray that God will teach me how to use gentle words, love, mercy, goodness, grace, and patience when restoring a fellow believer to a right relationship with God.
I apologize if I gave any reader the impression in my last blog that I thought my surgeon deserved to lose her daughter over a waterfall in Hawaii after the doctor mistreated me. The child's drowning was a horrible tragedy that I wouldn't wish on anyone. However, I was trying to point out that the loss of that child may have been God's only course of action to bring that surgeon back into a right relationship with him. I thought that perhaps in losing her own child, God was trying to teach that surgeon how to have empathy for other women, like me, whose babies died.
I don't know if this is why God allowed this loss or not. I was only surmising in order to make a point. But I do understand God's character, and it would not be consistent with his character to simply allow that surgeon to continue to mistreat her patients with such a calloused heart. God will do whatever it takes to bring us into a love relationship with him and with one another...even if it sometimes entails breaking our hearts.
Sometimes, God must break our hearts to get our attention. He does not do this out of meanness or from willy-nilly actions of anger. He knows what is best for us, and if it means disciplining us, that's what he will do.
I pray that God will shower me with his warm and fuzzy feelings of goodness, love, mercy, grace, and patience. But I also pray that he will discipline me, as needed, to bring about holiness, peace, righteousness, justice, and love-inspired jealousy for others in me.
Speaking up when someone like my surgeon hurts me, and praying for her hardened heart to be broken, is one way that I can express God's love-inspired jealousy for her. Confronting her may be difficult, but the interaction may create an opportunity for her to turn her heart over to the Lord.
God is not a lopsided, warm and fuzzy guy who is issuing certificates of eternal life to all people upon their deaths. He is a strong, well-rounded, and balanced being who uses all of his attributes to make us balanced, well-rounded people, thoroughly prepared for eternity with him.
I am not a lopsided Christian who believes in a lopsided god. I do not believe in picking and choosing the parts of God's character that are appealing to me. I take into consideration the entire counsel of God's Word. And his Word tells me that he is the One and Only God of goodness, love, mercy, grace, and patience; as well as The One True God of holiness, righteousness, peace, justice, and jealousy. I embrace all facets of God's character, because in doing so, I have far greater opportunities to become more like him.
I do not believe in a lopsided God. Do you?
Monday, July 26, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
God Opposes the Proud
My friend just brought me back from physical therapy on my knee and the follow-up visit with my surgeon. It was an interesting afternoon.
I have been assigned to the former manager of a physical therapy company who has suddenly found himself back in a staff position after the company closed his office on the other side of the city. He had a very positive attitude about this 'demotion,' and said with a smile that at least he didn't have to deal with bad employees anymore. I'd be willing to bet that his humble spirit and positive attitude will land him in a wonderful new position soon.
This therapist is so knowledgeable and patient. He has told me things about MS that I didn't know. For example, when a muscle is injured in a person with MS, it takes far longer to heal; and if the muscle is damaged severely, the MS patient will never fully recover the use of the muscle. He noticed my shoes and recommended different ones to help support my knees. He emphasized the importance of taking my recovery very slowly and gently. Everything in moderation was the mantra I heard from him. My neurologist has been begging me to slow down for years.
Before the visit to the surgeon's office, I wrote out all of the things I would like to say to him regarding his rude treatment during my recent hospital stay. I went over it with Joe and my friend. Both of them felt that the doctor would just close his ears to what I had to say. But I felt that I had to say it, nevertheless. Perhaps by speaking up, I might save another patient from being mistreated.
When the surgeon finished the exam, I asked if I could share something with him that might help him with other MS patients in the future. He said okay, and I told him that it really wigged me out to be told so bluntly that he would just have to send me to a nursing home since I couldn't walk.
He launched into a defensive argument about how he has built his entire practice on his mastery of psychology. He claims that he can analyze any patient within minutes of walking into a room, and he figured out that I was the type of person who was prone to be lazy; to let others wait on me hand and foot. He purposely said what he did about the nursing home to give me a 'kick in the butt' and scare me into moving my leg!
He continued by telling me that he is an expert in the treatment of MS, because he's been caring for his sister-in-law with MS for the past three years. He's read everything he can on the subject, and he knows that MS patients tend to become passive and expect others to do everything for them. (You probably could have heard the steam whistling out of my ears at this point!) He also claimed that MS patients have to be worked harder than ordinary people in order to get better.
He went on to say that he knew he might lose me as a patient, but it didn't matter. He said that some people are just never happy, even when you do a great job. And others are injured by his practice, but they still think he's the finest doctor on the planet.
When he took in a breath to continue, I said, "Well, you got me 100% wrong. I am not the type of person who enjoys being waited on. In fact, my friends usually have to tell me to quit over-doing it."
He said that he figured he had made me mad that day in the hospital by the look on my face, but he didn't care. He pointed at my knee and said, "Your knee's getting better. If making you mad is what it took, it doesn't matter."
I told him that I'm not the sort of person to go around telling the entire world about what he did just to get him into trouble. But I pointed out that he has a family counting on him, and the next MS patient he insults might not be quite as nice as I am.
Again, he simply said that he figured he might lose me as a patient, and he was okay with that.
I just sat there, dumb-founded. I couldn't think of another word to say.
My friend told me afterward that she would have quoted a very short verse of Scripture to him: "God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble." (James 4:6b)
We decided that we'd better start praying for this surgeon, because God needs to give him a wake-up call. The last surgeon who was this prideful with me lost her 3-year-old daughter a month later over a waterfall while on vacation in Hawaii. The child's body was never recovered.
This experience helped me to see that I am growing in my ability to speak up when things are not right. I stood up for myself and said what I needed to without crying, shaking, or getting angry. My surgeon's response was incredible, but predictable. I am asking God to help me forgive this man and for God to deal with the doctor in whatever way he feels is appropriate. Now, I can move on with my life, knowing that I did the right thing. What this doctor does with my feedback and God's reaction is another matter that is out of my hands.
I pray that encounters with prideful people like this surgeon will always serve to remind me that I, too, can be puffed up with arrogance. I hope that I will have the humility to listen when others tell me that I am in the wrong.
I have been assigned to the former manager of a physical therapy company who has suddenly found himself back in a staff position after the company closed his office on the other side of the city. He had a very positive attitude about this 'demotion,' and said with a smile that at least he didn't have to deal with bad employees anymore. I'd be willing to bet that his humble spirit and positive attitude will land him in a wonderful new position soon.
This therapist is so knowledgeable and patient. He has told me things about MS that I didn't know. For example, when a muscle is injured in a person with MS, it takes far longer to heal; and if the muscle is damaged severely, the MS patient will never fully recover the use of the muscle. He noticed my shoes and recommended different ones to help support my knees. He emphasized the importance of taking my recovery very slowly and gently. Everything in moderation was the mantra I heard from him. My neurologist has been begging me to slow down for years.
Before the visit to the surgeon's office, I wrote out all of the things I would like to say to him regarding his rude treatment during my recent hospital stay. I went over it with Joe and my friend. Both of them felt that the doctor would just close his ears to what I had to say. But I felt that I had to say it, nevertheless. Perhaps by speaking up, I might save another patient from being mistreated.
When the surgeon finished the exam, I asked if I could share something with him that might help him with other MS patients in the future. He said okay, and I told him that it really wigged me out to be told so bluntly that he would just have to send me to a nursing home since I couldn't walk.
He launched into a defensive argument about how he has built his entire practice on his mastery of psychology. He claims that he can analyze any patient within minutes of walking into a room, and he figured out that I was the type of person who was prone to be lazy; to let others wait on me hand and foot. He purposely said what he did about the nursing home to give me a 'kick in the butt' and scare me into moving my leg!
He continued by telling me that he is an expert in the treatment of MS, because he's been caring for his sister-in-law with MS for the past three years. He's read everything he can on the subject, and he knows that MS patients tend to become passive and expect others to do everything for them. (You probably could have heard the steam whistling out of my ears at this point!) He also claimed that MS patients have to be worked harder than ordinary people in order to get better.
He went on to say that he knew he might lose me as a patient, but it didn't matter. He said that some people are just never happy, even when you do a great job. And others are injured by his practice, but they still think he's the finest doctor on the planet.
When he took in a breath to continue, I said, "Well, you got me 100% wrong. I am not the type of person who enjoys being waited on. In fact, my friends usually have to tell me to quit over-doing it."
He said that he figured he had made me mad that day in the hospital by the look on my face, but he didn't care. He pointed at my knee and said, "Your knee's getting better. If making you mad is what it took, it doesn't matter."
I told him that I'm not the sort of person to go around telling the entire world about what he did just to get him into trouble. But I pointed out that he has a family counting on him, and the next MS patient he insults might not be quite as nice as I am.
Again, he simply said that he figured he might lose me as a patient, and he was okay with that.
I just sat there, dumb-founded. I couldn't think of another word to say.
My friend told me afterward that she would have quoted a very short verse of Scripture to him: "God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble." (James 4:6b)
We decided that we'd better start praying for this surgeon, because God needs to give him a wake-up call. The last surgeon who was this prideful with me lost her 3-year-old daughter a month later over a waterfall while on vacation in Hawaii. The child's body was never recovered.
This experience helped me to see that I am growing in my ability to speak up when things are not right. I stood up for myself and said what I needed to without crying, shaking, or getting angry. My surgeon's response was incredible, but predictable. I am asking God to help me forgive this man and for God to deal with the doctor in whatever way he feels is appropriate. Now, I can move on with my life, knowing that I did the right thing. What this doctor does with my feedback and God's reaction is another matter that is out of my hands.
I pray that encounters with prideful people like this surgeon will always serve to remind me that I, too, can be puffed up with arrogance. I hope that I will have the humility to listen when others tell me that I am in the wrong.
Monday, July 5, 2010
3 Days, 2 Nights
The outpatient surgery to repair my left knee went well, but the recovery has been a bit rough.
I got an all expense paid trip for 3 days and 2 nights to The Hospital, including continuous room service and all the opiates I could request while still conscious.
The anesthesia caused an MS exacerbation, and the staff had a little trouble figuring me out. Thank God for physical therapists who had encountered people like me in the past. When Nurse Ratchet insisted that she was not bringing me another bedpan and that I would walk to the bathroom, the therapist gave the insensitive nurse a piece of her mind. I gave her something she wouldn't forget for a while either.
My friend and soul sister, Deb, came one day to sing, "You Can't Make Me Go to Rehab" for the doctor who insisted that I needed to go to a nursing home. She also brought black and white 'voodoo Lego men.' We named them after the staff members and ripped their heads off before drowning them in mouthwash in the emesis basin.
My dear friend, Rhonda, came to sit with me for 9 hours one day, making sure that no one on staff pushed me around...other than in a wheelchair. She took me for a spin out to the lobby, where I was serenaded by the oldest volunteer violinist on the continent. While he hummed a few bars of old songs and then scratched them out one phrase at a time on his fiddle, his WWII sidekick who looked like Burgess Meredith made eyes at me. In my delauden stupor, I smiled and waved at him, marveling over the beautiful scene and treasuring it with so many other memories that were drug-induced during my stay.
I spent the 4th of July in bed with a new toy that was delivered by the home health care man. Just before dusk, my cherub of a husband stood beside the bed, offering me two big white pills and a glass of water. While he and our friends enjoyed the fireworks outside, I delighted in the continuous motion created by a contraption that simulates slow-motion bronco-busting, complete with lamb's wool chaps. I'm sure that the velcro restraints are what make this item such a big hit with invalids. Who can resist the thrill of being tied up?
The warning label on my bottle of pain killers says that the medication may cause constipation. Doctors who say that it's perfectly harmless to have a bowel movement just once a week are full of crap.
Coming back from a trip on opiates is a lot like returning home after a lovely Caribbean vacation. The sun just doesn't seem to shine as brightly, and the people around us don't seem as colorful. But there's always hope that I can go back someday. My right knee is beginning to feel a little stiff....
I got an all expense paid trip for 3 days and 2 nights to The Hospital, including continuous room service and all the opiates I could request while still conscious.
The anesthesia caused an MS exacerbation, and the staff had a little trouble figuring me out. Thank God for physical therapists who had encountered people like me in the past. When Nurse Ratchet insisted that she was not bringing me another bedpan and that I would walk to the bathroom, the therapist gave the insensitive nurse a piece of her mind. I gave her something she wouldn't forget for a while either.
My friend and soul sister, Deb, came one day to sing, "You Can't Make Me Go to Rehab" for the doctor who insisted that I needed to go to a nursing home. She also brought black and white 'voodoo Lego men.' We named them after the staff members and ripped their heads off before drowning them in mouthwash in the emesis basin.
My dear friend, Rhonda, came to sit with me for 9 hours one day, making sure that no one on staff pushed me around...other than in a wheelchair. She took me for a spin out to the lobby, where I was serenaded by the oldest volunteer violinist on the continent. While he hummed a few bars of old songs and then scratched them out one phrase at a time on his fiddle, his WWII sidekick who looked like Burgess Meredith made eyes at me. In my delauden stupor, I smiled and waved at him, marveling over the beautiful scene and treasuring it with so many other memories that were drug-induced during my stay.
I spent the 4th of July in bed with a new toy that was delivered by the home health care man. Just before dusk, my cherub of a husband stood beside the bed, offering me two big white pills and a glass of water. While he and our friends enjoyed the fireworks outside, I delighted in the continuous motion created by a contraption that simulates slow-motion bronco-busting, complete with lamb's wool chaps. I'm sure that the velcro restraints are what make this item such a big hit with invalids. Who can resist the thrill of being tied up?
The warning label on my bottle of pain killers says that the medication may cause constipation. Doctors who say that it's perfectly harmless to have a bowel movement just once a week are full of crap.
Coming back from a trip on opiates is a lot like returning home after a lovely Caribbean vacation. The sun just doesn't seem to shine as brightly, and the people around us don't seem as colorful. But there's always hope that I can go back someday. My right knee is beginning to feel a little stiff....
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