© 2009 David’s Harp and Pen
Mood: Contemplative
DISCLAIMER
This blog is based, in part, upon actual events and people. Certain actions and characters have been dramatized and fictionalized, but are inspired by true events and real people. Certain other characters, events, and names used herein are entirely fictitious. Any similarity of those fictional characters or events to the name, attributes, or background of any real person, living or dead, or to any actual events is coincidental and unintentional, so I better not hear from any agricultural groups or apple growers. I didn’t invent the laws of nature. I am merely obliged to obey them.
*All Scripture is quoted from The Amplified Bible
When I was eight, I wrote a list of things I wanted to accomplish by the time I was eighteen. Even though I was young, I had a very definite idea in my head of what it meant to be successful: I should be independently wealthy, start a successful career as an international supermodel, and marry Han Solo (yes, that’s right. Han Solo. Please remember I was only eight.). By the time I reached 12, however, I realized my vision of success would be more difficult to attain than I thought. First of all, the child labor laws in the State of New Jersey wouldn’t allow me to get a real job until I was at least 14, and at the interest rates at the time, there was no way the money I saved would break the million dollar point by the time was I was 18. Secondly, to my horror, the school nurse, during those torturous annual school weigh-ins, told me I would never again weigh below 100 pounds. So much for super modeling. Finally, the news leaked that Han Solo had “boldly gone where no man had gone before” with Princess Leia both on screen and off screen. I would have to find success another way.
At age 13, I became a Christian, and so my goals and ideas about the future naturally changed. As I began to run in different circles, my vernacular began to change, too. I no longer ate. I “fellowshipped,” for example. Kids my age didn’t date. They “went to youth group,” or, if they were a little on the naughty side, “had devotions together.” When it came to what one accomplished in life, it was no longer “being successful,” but “being fruitful.” Therefore, as I had changed, so did my list of what my life would look like when I became an adult: I would go to a Christian college and graduate by age 21, become a Christian rock star by age 22, helm a multi-million dollar ministry by age 23, and end world hunger by age 24.
Fast forward to age 29. My college education was ship wrecked, so to speak, so no degree, nor multimillion-dollar Christian ministry. No career in the Christian music world because, I was told, I was not little, cute, and perky, which has been popular for far too long if you ask me. As for world hunger, I had a hard enough time in my efforts to end my own hunger. (I used to have a Coke bottle change bank at my door with a little sign that read, “Please contribute to The Feed the Sharon Fund, because my life would be a terrible thing to waste.) What made matters worse was I had developed severe arthritis in my both my hands and wrists, so I wasn’t even able to find anything that remotely resembled gainful employment at the time.
One Sunday morning, as I frustratedly pondered my lack of productivity, I thought to myself, “I’ll get a job as a driver of some sort. Yes, that’s it! I can drive a cab or be a courier. I may have two bad hands, but I’ve still got two good feet, right?”
No sooner had the thought materialized in my head then the inevitable happened. I walked to my front door to fetch the Sunday paper and rammed my left foot full force into the titanium and concrete doorpost. I spent the next four weeks hobbling around with a foot the color of a pomegranate while wearing one of those platform medical boots that looked like a fashion reject from the 70s.
I had reached a breaking point. I was almost 30 years old and felt I had nothing to show for it. Worse yet, I felt that I had failed God somehow. I whined and cried to Him, “God, I have never been less fruitful, or functional, in my entire life. I’m doing absolutely nothing for You. You must think I’m a big fat loser, like that fig tree that doesn’t grow figs.”
God responded, “Sharon, a fruitful apple tree doesn’t have full-grown edible apples on it all year round. Those seasons during which the apples aren’t there, though, are just as important to the life of the tree as the seasons when the apples are.”
I must say, this revelation was mind-blowing, especially given the consideration that I was, at the time, a type-A, driven sort of person who needed to see things happen in front of her face all the time in order to be convinced of their existence. It was then that I was reminded of a familiar Scripture, except now God was speaking to me through it in a new way:
Psalm 1:1-3 –“BLESSED (HAPPY, fortunate, prosperous, and enviable) is the man who walks and lives not in the counsel of the ungodly [following their advice, their plans and purposes], nor stands [submissive and inactive] in the path where sinners walk, nor sits down [to relax and rest] where the scornful [and the mockers] gather. But his delight and desire are in the law of the Lord, and on His law (the precepts, the instructions, the teachings of God) he habitually meditates (ponders and studies) by day and by night. And he shall be like a tree firmly planted [and tended] by the streams of water, ready to bring forth its fruit in its season; its leaf also shall not fade or wither; and everything he does shall prosper [and come to maturity].” (emphasis added)
“Bring forth its fruit in its season”? That didn’t make sense to me. I had walked with God long enough, though, to know that when what I read matches what I hear, it’s a sure bet that it’s God speaking. So, what was God trying to tell me about the fruitful season? I decided to do some research about the seasons in the life of an apple tree, and this is what I found:
WINTER-since nothing much is going on, the orchardist, as he’s called, will dedicate the colder months to the task of pruning. He carefully chooses limbs and branches to be cut off, which thus allows more sunlight to be absorbed by the tree so that in warmer times bigger, better, and more flavorful fruit will be produced. The pruning process for the apple tree is mirrored by Christ’s Words in John 15:1-3 : “I AM the True Vine, and My Father is the Vinedresser. Any branch in Me that does not bear fruit [that stops bearing] He cuts away (trims off, takes away); and He cleanses and repeatedly prunes every branch that continues to bear fruit, to make it bear more and richer and more excellent fruit. You are cleansed and pruned already, because of the word which I have given you [the teachings I have discussed with you].”
Now, if apple trees had feelings, the amputation process and the resulting emotions probably wouldn’t be high on their list of favorites. We as children of God don’t like those times of pruning and refinement, either. However, these times are absolutely vital to the trees’, and to our future fruitfulness. God wants to remove anything from our lives that keeps us from producing, because we’re not only the Work of His Hands, we’re His children. In Hebrews 12:5-11, it reads, “My son, do not think lightly or scorn to submit to the correction and discipline of the Lord, nor lose courage and give up and faint when you are reproved or corrected by Him; For the Lord corrects and disciplines everyone whom He loves, and He punishes, even scourges, every son whom He accepts and welcomes to His heart and cherishes…For the time being no discipline brings joy, but seems grievous and painful; but afterwards it yields a peaceable fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it [a harvest of fruit which consists in righteousness--in conformity to God's will in purpose, thought, and action, resulting in right living and right standing with God].”
Pay special attention to the agricultural language in these passages and how they tie in with Psalm 1. Pruning and discipline are ongoing things, but sometimes we experiences definite seasons when they are the focus. Notice, though, that these times aren’t only for the betterment of what we produce for God’s Kingdom, but the good things they produce in US: joy, gladness, the peaceable fruit of righteousness, and ultimately, maturity.
SPRING-The buds on the tree start to grow noticeably. The buds will eventually bloom into flowers, which will finally give way to fruit. Something curious about spring is how it is the culmination of the winter pruning. Oftentimes, the dead limbs and branches cut from the tree during the cold are left where they lay. In spring, that same dead brush is then mulched and worked into the soil around the orchard to serve as fertilizer. The very things that would’ve been lifeless for the trees in one form are now the catalyst for growth in another. How much is that like our walk with God. When we let Him take from us those hurts, those idols, those distractions, all those things which keep the light of His Word and the life of His Spirit from maturing us, He transforms those things into agents of change and for our good. In Jeremiah 31:40, Jeremiah says, “And the whole valley [Hinnom] of the dead bodies and [the hill] of the ashes [long dumped there from the temple sacrifices], and all the fields as far as the brook Kidron, to the corner of the Horse Gate toward the east, shall be holy to the Lord. It [the city] shall not be plucked up or overthrown any more to the end of the age.” Everything fully surrendered to God, whatever it is, He will metamorphize for His Glory.
SUMMER-With the opening of the biggest and best blossoms, the apple trees are buzzing with activity. One main sign of the season is pollination. Bees are brought in from local beekeepers to cross-pollinate the trees because the desired fruit can only be attained by multiple varieties of pollen. Oh, how we need that input from our fellow “trees”: our brothers and sisters in Christ, our leaders, and those who have gone on before us but still pour into us through their legacy. The author of Hebrews, in chapter 10, verses 24 and 25, reiterates this point: “And let us consider and give attentive, continuous care to watching over one another, studying how we may stir up (stimulate and incite) to love and helpful deeds and noble activities, not forsaking or neglecting to assemble together [as believers], as is the habit of some people, but admonishing (warning, urging, and encouraging) one another, and all the more faithfully as you see the day approaching.”
FALL-Harvest time has finally come. Because of the delicacy of most apples and their propensity to bruise, they must be picked by hand. The orchardist will hire workers from all over to come and help with the harvest. Isn’t it nice that we’re not in this process alone? Our fruitfulness is a concerted effort on the part of the entire Body of Christ, always under the watchful eye of the Vine keeper who is with us always and has groomed and pruned us to be holy, mature, and complete! And even when we finally see the fruits of our labor, when we are mature, we are promised the loving, tender care of our Father, who hand-shapes us into vessels used for His honor, just as Isaiah says so eloquently in chapter 64, verse 18: “Yet, O Lord, You are our Father; we are the clay, and You our Potter, and we all are the work of Your hand.”
I now have an editor. For the sake of his privacy, he requests I merely refer to him as Peter. Peter is truly a Godsend to my writing and to me. However, he is way too intelligent and scholarly for MY own good. One day we were discussing God’s Will in our lives, and I said that I needed to be writing, and since I was not writing, I was like a leaf-blower that didn’t blow leaves. In other words, I was not being productive or fruitful. He disagreed, but not about my similarity to a leaf-blower. He said he believed that the only thing all of us are born to do is worship God (and all that entails), and the rest isn’t quite the crisis others and myself were making it out to be. A heated discussion ensued, and by heated, I mean Peter used a lot of really big and colorful words and I, though I tried to make some sort of case, was left uncharacteristically speechless and in great pain from just having my toes stepped on and steamrolled. The truth of the matter was, we had both hit a sore spot. However, Peter was right. I am in a winter-type season. I am being pruned and I don’t like the way it feels as it happens. Another unpleasantry is that there are all sorts of voices out there that would say to me that because I do not have a successful writing career, I am not a Christian rock star, etc., that I am wasting time or falling behind or not being fruitful. If I look at it, though, like God looks at the apple tree, there is no room for condemnation, because my “fruit” is the glorification of God, and anything I do to that end, provided it is done from a heart of worship, whether it be writing, waiting tables, cooking for my single male friends, or rescuing a very naughty dog (see Proverbs 12:10), is pleasing and valuable to God. Not only that, but each season is purposeful and absolutely necessary to growing visible and harvestable fruit. So, I will not spurn this season, but embrace it as given and orchestrated by God. The truth is, whether one believes or not they are “born to write/act/sing/twirl flaming batons/fill in the blank,” we will wear more than one hat in our lifetime. Worshipping God means doing all things set before us as if we’re doing them for Him, which we are. Paul drives this point home in Ephesians 2:10 and Colossians 3:17: “For we are God's [own] handiwork (His workmanship), recreated in Christ Jesus, [born anew] that we may do those good works which God predestined (planned beforehand) for us [taking paths which He prepared ahead of time], that we should walk in them [living the good life which He prearranged and made ready for us to live]...And whatever you do [no matter what it is] in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus and in [dependence upon] His Person, giving praise to God the Father through Him.”
God wants us to be fruitful, but we must be faithful to do the things to which He’s called us. I’m not just talking about individual visions; I’m talking about the basic things He assigns to everyone in His Word, such as loving Him with everything, loving our neighbor, etc. We make fruit bearing a lot harder than it should be because we try to do the things only God can do and put on God what we should be doing for ourselves. Paul says in 1 Corinthians 3, “I planted, Apollos watered, but God [all the while] was making it grow and [He] gave the increase. So neither he who plants is anything nor he who waters, but [only] God Who makes it grow and become greater. He who plants and he who waters are equal (one in aim, of the same importance and esteem), yet each shall receive his own reward (wages), according to his own labor. For we are fellow workmen (joint promoters, laborers together) with and for God; you are God's garden and vineyard and field under cultivation, [you are] God's building.” I am guilty of trying to make things grow, which is clearly God’s job, while neglecting the planting and watering, which are clearly my responsibility.
I personally have never seen any fruit tree moan, groan, or strain as it goes through the fruit-bearing process. However, most of my life I have looked at being fruitful for God not like the apple tree producing fruit but more like a woman giving birth. From all the videos I’ve seen of childbirth, there’s nothing peaceful about it, only pain and exasperation, not to mention some spouts of sheer lunacy. If I were indeed a spiritually pregnant woman, I would sound something like this:
“God, this thing You planted in me is never going to happen! I strain and push and nada, nothing, zilch, bupkis! I swear God, if You ever try to do anything through me again…oh crap! Where’s my epidural?”
I want to be that fruitful tree and do only what I’m supposed to do, for it is God in me Who wills and works His Good Pleasure in me.
I will close with this. Even in the dead of winter, when the apple tree shows no signs of life and can only try to survive, there will always be one bud on one branch, a foreshadowing of a harvest that is to come. Even in the winters of my life, I have the Holy Spirit, the Presence of God Himself within me, and He reminds me that though I may sow in tears, I will reap in joy, and it will be a bumper crop!
Take heart, my fellow apple trees, for He Who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it, for He Who called you IS faithful…and fruitful.
The End
Milk!!!!!!
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
A Thing of Beauty by Sharon Lurie
Mood: Mostly Serious, but Still Laced with Enough of the Quirk Factor to Keep It Interesting
DISCLAIMER…
This blog is based, in part, upon actual events and people. Certain actions and characters have been dramatized and fictionalized, but are inspired by true events and real people. Certain other characters, events, and names used herein are entirely fictitious. Any similarity of those fictional characters or events to the name, attributes, or background of any real person, living or dead, or to any actual events is coincidental and unintentional, so I better not hear from any women’s ministries telling me how I’ve set back womankind thousands of years. As we used to say when I was a teenager, “If we stepped on your toes, come up for prayer for your toes to be healed.” All names have been changed to protect the innocent from harm and the guilty from embarrassment. PLEASE NOTE: I am in no way referring to women’s leadership or activities at my home church.
I stopped attending women’s retreats years’ ago. First of all, they’re usually really expensive. Secondly, I always found the men’s retreats much more appealing. For instance, the men usually go someplace outdoors where they commune with nature, whereas the women go to some overpriced hotel located next to an even more overpriced shopping mall. The food on the men’s menu consists of pancakes and sausage and steak and mashed potatoes, while the women eat sandwiches consisting of the following: cardboard (for bread), chicken mixed with grapes, berries, and twigs, then slathered in yogurt. I’m sorry, but the only time chicken and fruit should go together in the same dish is if it’s sweet and sour chicken at P.F. Chang’s.
Okay, there are other reasons that I don’t go. More important ones. I guess it could be said that I’m not the average Christian female, and more often than not, attending these meetings not only serve to NOT encourage me to get in touch with my feminine side, but by the time they’re over, I feel the urge to get genetic testing to see if one set of my X chromosomes has had single leg amputations.
What I’m trying to say is, no matter how much we Christian woman shout “special just as we are,” subconsciously, we all revert to judging one’s Christian femaleness by a certain passage of Scripture. And we all KNOW which passage to which I’m referring: Proverbs 31 (New International Version, commentary by me)…
So, is it now clear why I can’t handle any more of this “encouragement?” Maybe it’s just the frustration talking, because in all the years I’ve been a Christian woman, I’ve never felt like the bar was anywhere close to me reaching it. I’ve been told more often where I’ve fallen short in these things than where I’ve succeeded.
I mean, I’m not totally undomesticated. I love to cook, and I cook well, but I’m not a housekeeper. When I’ve said in the past that I’m not good at it and have to have someone do my cleaning for me, I get a reaction akin to if I said to a lady with kids, “Do you really need that third child? Because I could really use the extra tax deduction.” And my meal plans revolve solely around what food I have coupons for, not what happens to be trendy at the moment. I like getting dolled up, too, but not always. It would be nice, also, if there were concrete definitions of what “girly” and “modest” were. I can think of many times I’ve worn things that were cute and feminine in one woman’s eyes, only to be found flashy and immodest in another’s. Nor does it help that clothing styles and trends change so quickly that by the time I can afford the latest style, it’s already outdated and being declared a “fashion don’t” in Cosmo. We Christian ladies say it’s only what’s on the inside that counts, but let me show up to church one Sunday wearing pigtails, ripped jeans, and a John Deere tee shirt, and before the service is over, some well-meaning sister in Christ will declare, “Oh Sharon, you’ve really let yourself go!”
So, I decided recently that life is too short to spend trying to live up to impossible expectations. And besides, it takes enough of my time to deflect discouragement from the world, Satan, HGTV, and E! about my womanhood to have to deal with it when I go to church, too. Therefore, can we all agree that we’re all unique and have our place and focus on what God is REALLY calling us to as Christian woman?
Uh-oh! If it’s not all the external stuff like cooking, cleaning, fashion, then what is it? (Please, don’t think less of me because I have a cleaning lady! So does my pastor’s wife, and isn’t it more important that I make my mashed potatoes from scratch?) I mean, even though we are all different, there are certain things that apply to all women across the board. So, what are they? I’m so glad someone finally asked!
CHARACTER! More importantly, character that reflects our Savior. The world will remember our love and compassion long after they’ve forgotten our kick-butt-awesome chicken tetrazzini! In light of this revelation, I was able to read the dreaded aforementioned Bible passage with new eyes…
See, when I look at it that way now, not only does it seem not so bad, but it actually seems doable! I don’t wanna go through life being like Martha, who was so overwhelmed with the incidentals that she almost missed out where life’s greatest accomplishments are achieved and greatest fulfillment found; namely, in the company of Jesus!
In closing, I want to touch on part of Proverbs 31 and another passage in 1st Peter 3:6 as they relate to the character of Christian women.
In my vast experience with men, and it is vast, do you know what their number one complaint about women is, whether the men complaining are Christian or not? It’s not a woman’s cooking ability, fashion sense, cosmetic expertise or lack thereof, spending prowess, or even her intelligence. It’s fear! One thing a guy can’t stand is neediness, clinginess, moodiness, co-dependency, and neurotic impulsiveness (there’s a charming impulsiveness, mind you, and for those that disagree, DON’T JUDGE ME!). What are all these things based on? Fear! (or, in Guy-ese, the female state known as “psycho.”) Fear, on our parts as women, which can result only when we seek our identity as women in ungodly ways. Trust me, Ladies. Nothing will send a godly man screaming and running into the witness protection program faster!
I desire to be a thing of beauty in God’s eyes and in a godly man’s eyes. I know because of my identity in Christ that He sees me that way already. However, I still have a mind that needs to be renewed, and behavior that must be aligned to God’s Word on a daily basis. My prayer is that as I go to Him every moment of every day, that my walk will one day be as beautiful as my recreated spirit, and when I face undeserved criticism and an uncertain future, both will find me holding the Hand of my Savior for dear life and grinning from ear to ear.
The End
Milk!!!!!!
DISCLAIMER…
This blog is based, in part, upon actual events and people. Certain actions and characters have been dramatized and fictionalized, but are inspired by true events and real people. Certain other characters, events, and names used herein are entirely fictitious. Any similarity of those fictional characters or events to the name, attributes, or background of any real person, living or dead, or to any actual events is coincidental and unintentional, so I better not hear from any women’s ministries telling me how I’ve set back womankind thousands of years. As we used to say when I was a teenager, “If we stepped on your toes, come up for prayer for your toes to be healed.” All names have been changed to protect the innocent from harm and the guilty from embarrassment. PLEASE NOTE: I am in no way referring to women’s leadership or activities at my home church.
I stopped attending women’s retreats years’ ago. First of all, they’re usually really expensive. Secondly, I always found the men’s retreats much more appealing. For instance, the men usually go someplace outdoors where they commune with nature, whereas the women go to some overpriced hotel located next to an even more overpriced shopping mall. The food on the men’s menu consists of pancakes and sausage and steak and mashed potatoes, while the women eat sandwiches consisting of the following: cardboard (for bread), chicken mixed with grapes, berries, and twigs, then slathered in yogurt. I’m sorry, but the only time chicken and fruit should go together in the same dish is if it’s sweet and sour chicken at P.F. Chang’s.
Okay, there are other reasons that I don’t go. More important ones. I guess it could be said that I’m not the average Christian female, and more often than not, attending these meetings not only serve to NOT encourage me to get in touch with my feminine side, but by the time they’re over, I feel the urge to get genetic testing to see if one set of my X chromosomes has had single leg amputations.
What I’m trying to say is, no matter how much we Christian woman shout “special just as we are,” subconsciously, we all revert to judging one’s Christian femaleness by a certain passage of Scripture. And we all KNOW which passage to which I’m referring: Proverbs 31 (New International Version, commentary by me)…
A wife of noble character who can find? (You can’t, unless you’re the retreat speaker. But this weekend only, you, too, can gain from her wisdom, and for the incredibly low price of $19.95, you’ll get a pink leather-bound Women’s Devotional Bible, zillionth edition, deluxe makeup kit, super spa hair care sampler, and an autographed copy of “You Can Be It All: My Secrets to Become Bible Barbie in 30 Minutes a Day”) She is worth far more than rubies. (Her jewelry collection has a retail value equivalent to the US National Deficit.) Her husband has full confidence in her (Did you hear that, ladies? So singleness is NOT an option.) and lacks nothing of value. (So, shopping at thrift stores and garage sales is a big no-no.) She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. (She never, ever says the wrong thing around a member of the opposite sex.) She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands. (Must be proficient in knitting, crocheting, and needlepoint. Ugh!) She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar. (Must have worked through Julia Child’s “Mastering the Art of French Cooking.”) She gets up while it is still dark (must be a morning person.); she provides food for her family and portions for her servant girls. (Must be Casanova in the kitchen.) She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. (Must be master gardener and landscaper.) She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. (Must work out every day at the gym but never sweat.) She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night. (So, she must be a morning person AND a night person. Double ugh!) In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers. (She uses all the time she saves from not sleeping to make her own clothes.) She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. (She cooks for all her single male friends who would otherwise be forced to subsist on a diet consisting entirely of Hardee’s.) When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. (She and her family must wear all the designer labels, unless of course it’s something she’s sewn.) She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple. (Oh crap, she’s gotta make her own sheets and blankets, too!) Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. (She must snag husband who is politician, movie star, doctor, lawyer, CEO, or some combination thereof. How many of these men actually roam the earth?) She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes. (So, not only must she be domestic goddess and beauty pageant winner, but barracuda in the business world, too. Triple ugh!) She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. (She has IQ in the quadruple digits.) She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. (She must have ESP, and God forbid she ever have downtime!) Her children arise and call her blessed (as if her plate wasn’t full enough, she must also be perfect mother in manner of Ma Ingalls.); her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” (And to top it all off, in case it wasn’t mentioned earlier, all women are in competition with one another.) Charm is deceptive (but necessary), and beauty is fleeting (but you must spend inordinate amounts of time and money to hold on to every shred possible, anyway); but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate. (And everyone must like you, or you’re doing something terribly, terribly wrong!)
So, is it now clear why I can’t handle any more of this “encouragement?” Maybe it’s just the frustration talking, because in all the years I’ve been a Christian woman, I’ve never felt like the bar was anywhere close to me reaching it. I’ve been told more often where I’ve fallen short in these things than where I’ve succeeded.
I mean, I’m not totally undomesticated. I love to cook, and I cook well, but I’m not a housekeeper. When I’ve said in the past that I’m not good at it and have to have someone do my cleaning for me, I get a reaction akin to if I said to a lady with kids, “Do you really need that third child? Because I could really use the extra tax deduction.” And my meal plans revolve solely around what food I have coupons for, not what happens to be trendy at the moment. I like getting dolled up, too, but not always. It would be nice, also, if there were concrete definitions of what “girly” and “modest” were. I can think of many times I’ve worn things that were cute and feminine in one woman’s eyes, only to be found flashy and immodest in another’s. Nor does it help that clothing styles and trends change so quickly that by the time I can afford the latest style, it’s already outdated and being declared a “fashion don’t” in Cosmo. We Christian ladies say it’s only what’s on the inside that counts, but let me show up to church one Sunday wearing pigtails, ripped jeans, and a John Deere tee shirt, and before the service is over, some well-meaning sister in Christ will declare, “Oh Sharon, you’ve really let yourself go!”
So, I decided recently that life is too short to spend trying to live up to impossible expectations. And besides, it takes enough of my time to deflect discouragement from the world, Satan, HGTV, and E! about my womanhood to have to deal with it when I go to church, too. Therefore, can we all agree that we’re all unique and have our place and focus on what God is REALLY calling us to as Christian woman?
Uh-oh! If it’s not all the external stuff like cooking, cleaning, fashion, then what is it? (Please, don’t think less of me because I have a cleaning lady! So does my pastor’s wife, and isn’t it more important that I make my mashed potatoes from scratch?) I mean, even though we are all different, there are certain things that apply to all women across the board. So, what are they? I’m so glad someone finally asked!
CHARACTER! More importantly, character that reflects our Savior. The world will remember our love and compassion long after they’ve forgotten our kick-butt-awesome chicken tetrazzini! In light of this revelation, I was able to read the dreaded aforementioned Bible passage with new eyes…
A wife of noble character who can find? (I can be one, and God will show me how.) She is worth far more than rubies. (My value is apparent to those who are looking through the right lenses.) Her husband has full confidence in her (The men in my life know they can trust me.) and lacks nothing of value. (I let God supply what I need, not what I think I need. In other words, I let Him bless me abundantly with the things that matter most.) She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life. (I am a blessing to those I love.) She selects wool and flax and works with eager hands. (I do whatever God sets before me with joy. And if joy’s not already there, I go humbly before God to receive joy for the task.) She is like the merchant ships, bringing her food from afar. (I am resourceful.) She gets up while it is still dark (I make the most of my time, however long or short it may be); she provides food for her family and portions for her servant girls. (I put others above myself.) She considers a field and buys it; out of her earnings she plants a vineyard. (I don’t do things on neurotic impulse and I minister out of my fullness with God, not out of lack.) She sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks. (I let God fill me and prepare me each day for the tasks He sets before me.) She sees that her trading is profitable, and her lamp does not go out at night. (I am productive and fruitful in the things that God has called me to and ONLY those things.) In her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers. (Okay, this one I’m still not sure about.) She opens her arms to the poor and extends her hands to the needy. (I am generous and have God’s heart for those in need.) When it snows, she has no fear for her household; for all of them are clothed in scarlet. (I prepare out of wisdom, not out of fear, not to make myself look good, but to make sure my loved ones have what they need.) She makes coverings for her bed; she is clothed in fine linen and purple. (I’m not sure about this one, either.) Her husband is respected at the city gate, where he takes his seat among the elders of the land. (I will keep the company and identify myself with those whose character is worthy of respect.) She makes linen garments and sells them, and supplies the merchants with sashes. (I will spend wisely so that with the money I save, I can be as much of a blessing to others as possible.) She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come. She speaks with wisdom, and faithful instruction is on her tongue. (I will fill my heart with God’s Word, not the word of others, so that when I open my mouth, that which I’ve stored up comes out naturally.) She watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. (I’ll have genuine concern and affection for those God has placed in my sphere and always make the most of my time.) Her children arise and call her blessed (I will live in a way that those who I invest in spiritually will say they’re better, not worse, for knowing me.); her husband also, and he praises her: “Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.” (Like the parable of the talents, I will be praised not because of what I did in comparison to others, but because I did the best with what God has given me.) Charm is deceptive (Amen!), and beauty is fleeting (besides, doesn’t it say somewhere in Proverbs that gray hair and a little baby fat around the midsection is sexy?); but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised. Give her the reward she has earned, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate. (When my character is on track and I am fruitful as God defines fruitfulness, the people of God won’t be able to help but notice.)
See, when I look at it that way now, not only does it seem not so bad, but it actually seems doable! I don’t wanna go through life being like Martha, who was so overwhelmed with the incidentals that she almost missed out where life’s greatest accomplishments are achieved and greatest fulfillment found; namely, in the company of Jesus!
In closing, I want to touch on part of Proverbs 31 and another passage in 1st Peter 3:6 as they relate to the character of Christian women.
Proverbs 31:25b-She can laugh at the days to come.
1st Peter 3:6 [The Amplified Bible]- And you are now (Sarah’s) true daughters if you do right and let nothing terrify you [not giving way to hysterical fears or letting anxieties unnerve you].
In my vast experience with men, and it is vast, do you know what their number one complaint about women is, whether the men complaining are Christian or not? It’s not a woman’s cooking ability, fashion sense, cosmetic expertise or lack thereof, spending prowess, or even her intelligence. It’s fear! One thing a guy can’t stand is neediness, clinginess, moodiness, co-dependency, and neurotic impulsiveness (there’s a charming impulsiveness, mind you, and for those that disagree, DON’T JUDGE ME!). What are all these things based on? Fear! (or, in Guy-ese, the female state known as “psycho.”) Fear, on our parts as women, which can result only when we seek our identity as women in ungodly ways. Trust me, Ladies. Nothing will send a godly man screaming and running into the witness protection program faster!
I desire to be a thing of beauty in God’s eyes and in a godly man’s eyes. I know because of my identity in Christ that He sees me that way already. However, I still have a mind that needs to be renewed, and behavior that must be aligned to God’s Word on a daily basis. My prayer is that as I go to Him every moment of every day, that my walk will one day be as beautiful as my recreated spirit, and when I face undeserved criticism and an uncertain future, both will find me holding the Hand of my Savior for dear life and grinning from ear to ear.
The End
Milk!!!!!!
Thursday, October 1, 2009
For Men Only by Sharon Lurie
For Men Only
by Sharon Lurie
MOOD: Inquisitive
*This blog is based, in part, upon actual events and people. Certain actions and characters have been dramatized and fictionalized, but are inspired by true events and real people. Certain other characters, events, and names used herein are entirely fictitious. Any similarity of those fictional characters or events to the name, attributes, or background of any real person, living or dead, or to any actual events is coincidental and unintentional, so I better not get any messages from certain male acquaintances who think I am in any way trying to defame men in general or them in particular. Stop the madness already! All names have been changed to protect the innocent from harm and the guilty from embarrassment. *
ATTENTION ALL READERS! This blog is directed at men only. Women, you may read, but please do not leave any public comments. If you want to comment, please send a private note or email.
“A guy and his girlfriend walk into a video rental store. The guy says to the clerk behind the counter, ‘My girlfriend and I can’t decide on a movie. Do you have anything where the guy talks about his feelings while he blows things up?’” Readers’ Digest
The last fourteen days have been a glorious illustration in the miscommunication of epic proportions between the sexes, both among friends and me personally. It still amazes me in this day and age how little we really understand each other, so I thought for this week’s blog I might take the opportunity to clear the air.
First of all, I think we as women owe you men an apology on several respects. We expect you to possess certain God-like attributes such as omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience, and too many times we hold you to standards to which we ladies are not willing to hold ourselves. That is wrong.
Another phenomenon in the world of male-female relationships is the disproportionate amount of information exchange. For example, there are approximately 12,897,247 encyclopedia-like volumes written about what women wish men knew about them, while there is only about ¾ of an inch written about what men wish women knew about them. Why? Is it because women are narcissistic by nature? Or maybe because all men are commitment-phobes at heart and think if they’re too transparent with women then untimely ensnarements are inevitable? Dare I say maybe both? Or neither?
In all honesty, I wonder. I wonder, for all the miscommunications and the endless drama that ensues, if there’s something deep down in all of us, whether male or female, that really ENJOYS the drama, enjoys the little emotional intrigues. Sure, it’s frustrating, but never boring. Maybe it all stems back to the Garden of Eden and the dang tree. When Adam and Eve received the knowledge of good and evil, they lost their ability to automatically see themselves and enjoy themselves as whole before God. Not only that, they opened themselves up to the possibilities that human affection may not always stem from selfless motives, and so along with the need to hide themselves from God, they felt the need to hide themselves from each other. Thus, games and emotional enmeshments took the place of real intimacy, and men and women stopped being real with each other, settling for the emotional highs and lows of relational drama instead of transparency. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s just that it’s after 2 AM and I accidentally hit my head the day before. You can decide.
Therefore, in the name of transparency, I, representing the mature, emotionally healthy, free thinking single Christian woman (please keep all snickering down to a low roar), appeal to all mature, emotionally healthy, free thinking single Christian men…let’s talk! I will speak honestly about me, and you can then comment honestly about you.
First of all, I pledge from this moment forward, to be honest with you, and if I have a problem with you, I will speak about it to you first and only. I ask that you please return the favor. There’s nothing more frustrating then to have a man tell me what a great friend I am, I can call him any time, and he’s worried when he doesn’t hear from me, only to find out later from mutual guy friend, that he thinks me a pest, gets furious if I call during “24,” and prays I get amnesia so I’ll forget his phone number. We defer honesty in the name of not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings, but it hurts more to find out the truth from someone other than you. A mature woman can take your criticism. She may fault you for your timing and your delivery, but never your honesty.
So, while on the subject, I think it’s important to say, too, that while it’s important to not to withhold the truth about dislikes, one shouldn’t withhold the truth about likes, either. I’ve been faulted in times past for being too lavish with praise for those I care about, especially if it’s a man. However, I’d rather err on the side of letting you know you’re appreciated then risking you think I take you for granted. And I promise, if you let your appreciation of me be known, I will not get the wrong idea. I repeat, I will not get the wrong idea. Did I mention, too, that if you pay me a compliment, I WILL NOT GET THE WRONG IDEA?!
If, however, you do indeed want to let a certain woman in your life know you like her, please, please, PLEASE be straightforward, because acting otherwise will put your life in danger. Let me explain…in my vast personal experience with men, their greatest fear seems to be a girl thinking he likes her, even if he does, indeed, like her. Why is that? Why is it, if you do like a girl, you would rather risk her thinking you hate her and drive her away then just saying plainly, “I like you”? I will now summarize all my past interaction with men on such matters…
If you…hang out with me all the time, hug me whenever possible, do flirty things like hold my hand, breathe in my ear, or lick my face, if you tell me you don’t like sharing me with other guys, if you talk to me about what you want in a woman, if you bring me home to meet your parents, and if you tell me you’ve never had as much fun with anyone as you’ve had with me…then you are definitely NOT interested!
If you…avoid making eye contact with me, talk about other girls and ask my advice about them, if you purposely avoid returning phone calls or emails, if you go on and on about how you don’t think you’ll ever get over your ex, and especially if you discuss at length that you think God is calling you to lifelong singleness…then you want me and you want me bad!
And to those guilty of the latter, why, when you commit such flagrant emotional subterfuge, then finally admit your true feelings, make inane statements such as, “Oh, c’mon Sharon. You must’ve KNOWN all along how I really felt about you!” And what, I ask, should’ve tipped me off? When you showed me your charter membership card to the He Man Woman Hater’s Club or when you asked me to be listed as a character reference on your application to the monastery?
I write this blog more as an opportunity to build a bridge than anything else, so that you guys out there walking around in perpetual confusion can have a heads up for a change. So here goes…
A real woman worth having LOVES it if you do things like holding open doors, standing up when she enters and leaves a room. Personally speaking, I love it when a guy walks me to my car, especially if I don’t have to ask. I promise I will never take a feminazi stance about the matter, as long as you, from time to time, simply state you do it because you care, not because you doubt in any way, shape, or form that, left to my own devices, I could kick a guy’s butt if attacked.
In all seriousness, I grieve for the broken hearts I see around me because men and woman can’t seem to be honest with each other. Can we at least try? I will tell you honestly, that I’ll always be a little bit of a tomboy, and even though I’m all for a return to chivalry, it doesn’t mean I still don’t love to hang out with the guys and watch a good shoot-em-up, blow-em-up action flick over a rom-com, or go to the Middle Tennessee Gun Show over the Southern Women’s show any day; however, I am NOT one of the guys, and in all other matters, I will state plainly: whether you’re simply a bud, a fellow laborer in Kingdom work, or if you, whoever you may be, are indeed the companion of my future life, I, Sharon Lurie, 35-year-old single white female, am ready to be cherished.
THE END
Milk!!!!!
by Sharon Lurie
MOOD: Inquisitive
*This blog is based, in part, upon actual events and people. Certain actions and characters have been dramatized and fictionalized, but are inspired by true events and real people. Certain other characters, events, and names used herein are entirely fictitious. Any similarity of those fictional characters or events to the name, attributes, or background of any real person, living or dead, or to any actual events is coincidental and unintentional, so I better not get any messages from certain male acquaintances who think I am in any way trying to defame men in general or them in particular. Stop the madness already! All names have been changed to protect the innocent from harm and the guilty from embarrassment. *
ATTENTION ALL READERS! This blog is directed at men only. Women, you may read, but please do not leave any public comments. If you want to comment, please send a private note or email.
“A guy and his girlfriend walk into a video rental store. The guy says to the clerk behind the counter, ‘My girlfriend and I can’t decide on a movie. Do you have anything where the guy talks about his feelings while he blows things up?’” Readers’ Digest
The last fourteen days have been a glorious illustration in the miscommunication of epic proportions between the sexes, both among friends and me personally. It still amazes me in this day and age how little we really understand each other, so I thought for this week’s blog I might take the opportunity to clear the air.
First of all, I think we as women owe you men an apology on several respects. We expect you to possess certain God-like attributes such as omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience, and too many times we hold you to standards to which we ladies are not willing to hold ourselves. That is wrong.
Another phenomenon in the world of male-female relationships is the disproportionate amount of information exchange. For example, there are approximately 12,897,247 encyclopedia-like volumes written about what women wish men knew about them, while there is only about ¾ of an inch written about what men wish women knew about them. Why? Is it because women are narcissistic by nature? Or maybe because all men are commitment-phobes at heart and think if they’re too transparent with women then untimely ensnarements are inevitable? Dare I say maybe both? Or neither?
In all honesty, I wonder. I wonder, for all the miscommunications and the endless drama that ensues, if there’s something deep down in all of us, whether male or female, that really ENJOYS the drama, enjoys the little emotional intrigues. Sure, it’s frustrating, but never boring. Maybe it all stems back to the Garden of Eden and the dang tree. When Adam and Eve received the knowledge of good and evil, they lost their ability to automatically see themselves and enjoy themselves as whole before God. Not only that, they opened themselves up to the possibilities that human affection may not always stem from selfless motives, and so along with the need to hide themselves from God, they felt the need to hide themselves from each other. Thus, games and emotional enmeshments took the place of real intimacy, and men and women stopped being real with each other, settling for the emotional highs and lows of relational drama instead of transparency. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s just that it’s after 2 AM and I accidentally hit my head the day before. You can decide.
Therefore, in the name of transparency, I, representing the mature, emotionally healthy, free thinking single Christian woman (please keep all snickering down to a low roar), appeal to all mature, emotionally healthy, free thinking single Christian men…let’s talk! I will speak honestly about me, and you can then comment honestly about you.
First of all, I pledge from this moment forward, to be honest with you, and if I have a problem with you, I will speak about it to you first and only. I ask that you please return the favor. There’s nothing more frustrating then to have a man tell me what a great friend I am, I can call him any time, and he’s worried when he doesn’t hear from me, only to find out later from mutual guy friend, that he thinks me a pest, gets furious if I call during “24,” and prays I get amnesia so I’ll forget his phone number. We defer honesty in the name of not wanting to hurt someone’s feelings, but it hurts more to find out the truth from someone other than you. A mature woman can take your criticism. She may fault you for your timing and your delivery, but never your honesty.
So, while on the subject, I think it’s important to say, too, that while it’s important to not to withhold the truth about dislikes, one shouldn’t withhold the truth about likes, either. I’ve been faulted in times past for being too lavish with praise for those I care about, especially if it’s a man. However, I’d rather err on the side of letting you know you’re appreciated then risking you think I take you for granted. And I promise, if you let your appreciation of me be known, I will not get the wrong idea. I repeat, I will not get the wrong idea. Did I mention, too, that if you pay me a compliment, I WILL NOT GET THE WRONG IDEA?!
If, however, you do indeed want to let a certain woman in your life know you like her, please, please, PLEASE be straightforward, because acting otherwise will put your life in danger. Let me explain…in my vast personal experience with men, their greatest fear seems to be a girl thinking he likes her, even if he does, indeed, like her. Why is that? Why is it, if you do like a girl, you would rather risk her thinking you hate her and drive her away then just saying plainly, “I like you”? I will now summarize all my past interaction with men on such matters…
If you…hang out with me all the time, hug me whenever possible, do flirty things like hold my hand, breathe in my ear, or lick my face, if you tell me you don’t like sharing me with other guys, if you talk to me about what you want in a woman, if you bring me home to meet your parents, and if you tell me you’ve never had as much fun with anyone as you’ve had with me…then you are definitely NOT interested!
If you…avoid making eye contact with me, talk about other girls and ask my advice about them, if you purposely avoid returning phone calls or emails, if you go on and on about how you don’t think you’ll ever get over your ex, and especially if you discuss at length that you think God is calling you to lifelong singleness…then you want me and you want me bad!
And to those guilty of the latter, why, when you commit such flagrant emotional subterfuge, then finally admit your true feelings, make inane statements such as, “Oh, c’mon Sharon. You must’ve KNOWN all along how I really felt about you!” And what, I ask, should’ve tipped me off? When you showed me your charter membership card to the He Man Woman Hater’s Club or when you asked me to be listed as a character reference on your application to the monastery?
I write this blog more as an opportunity to build a bridge than anything else, so that you guys out there walking around in perpetual confusion can have a heads up for a change. So here goes…
A real woman worth having LOVES it if you do things like holding open doors, standing up when she enters and leaves a room. Personally speaking, I love it when a guy walks me to my car, especially if I don’t have to ask. I promise I will never take a feminazi stance about the matter, as long as you, from time to time, simply state you do it because you care, not because you doubt in any way, shape, or form that, left to my own devices, I could kick a guy’s butt if attacked.
In all seriousness, I grieve for the broken hearts I see around me because men and woman can’t seem to be honest with each other. Can we at least try? I will tell you honestly, that I’ll always be a little bit of a tomboy, and even though I’m all for a return to chivalry, it doesn’t mean I still don’t love to hang out with the guys and watch a good shoot-em-up, blow-em-up action flick over a rom-com, or go to the Middle Tennessee Gun Show over the Southern Women’s show any day; however, I am NOT one of the guys, and in all other matters, I will state plainly: whether you’re simply a bud, a fellow laborer in Kingdom work, or if you, whoever you may be, are indeed the companion of my future life, I, Sharon Lurie, 35-year-old single white female, am ready to be cherished.
THE END
Milk!!!!!
Saturday, September 26, 2009
My Future Yes by Sharon Lurie
MOOD: Grownup
*This blog is based, in part, upon actual events and people. Certain actions and characters have been dramatized and fictionalized, but are inspired by true events and real people. Certain other characters, events, and names used herein are entirely fictitious. Any similarity of those fictional characters or events to the name, attributes, or background of any real person, living or dead, or to any actual events is coincidental and unintentional, so I better not get any phone calls from certain ex-boyfriends and former crushes accusing me of still pining over them. Three words: so over you!!! And to my paranoid, emotionally needy, velcro-clingy type friends who think, in discussing poor choices and screwy relationships that I'm talking about you. Guess what? I AM!!!!! All names have been changed to protect the innocent from harm and the guilty from embarrassment. *
Like many of us, I didn't have great examples as to what a Godly relationship was really like. As I went through my teenage years and young adulthood, I always seemed to gravitate towards men who resembled emotionally the dysfunction around me. Because I thought so little of myself, I would immediately latch on to whoever showed me the time of day.
When I moved to Tennessee, I was determined not to repeat the same mistakes. I had to first come to the realization that, although I didn't deserve the treatment I'd received from these various individuals, I did bring much unnecessary heartache upon myself because I was making very poor choices concerning those to whom I gave my heart. As I sought God's heart concerning the whole matter, He showed me that my biggest mistake in all this was that I didn't take the necessary time to really observe someone's character before entrusting them with my heart. So, I asked Him first what I needed to be watching, and this is what He said...
1. Does this person practice what they preach? Are they someone who tells me to do or say certain things but they don't live up to the same standards themselves?
2. What kind of person are they when they're under pressure? Do they immediately freak out and lose their cool? Are they someone who exemplifies a life whose confidence is totally grounded in God?
3. What kind of person are they when someone has wronged them? Are they the type that easily holds grudges, because if they are, it is a major red flag. If the person will easily take offense and hold a grudge against someone else, they will at some point be the same way with me. Someone who takes offense easily isn't walking in maturity or in the fruit of the Holy Spirit, and the Bible specifically warns us to steer clear of hot tempered men.
As I implemented these three tests, I discovered that I was able to save myself a lot of heartache, but I wanted to go deeper with it. (Yes, I believe that we are to trust God to bring the right person to us, that it's not just us merely going out and choosing on our own. However, the Bible says so much about watching the company you keep and making wise choices, and just as we have to choose God's best when He presents it to us, we can also choose the Devil's worst!) As I prayed more, I said to God, "It's not enough for me to know who the wrong ones are. I want to know what the right one looks like. It'll be a lot easier for me to say no to the wrong ones if I know who and what it is that I'm saying yes to. Is there any man in the Bible that you can point out to me who serves as an example of the Godly Husband You have in store for me?"
At that point, God told me to read the Book of Ruth and look at Boaz. As I read it, God pointed out some very specific things about him...
1. Boaz, whenever he praised Ruth, always emphasized her relationship with and devotion to God. A Godly man's first concern for his potential mate is what kind of Christian she is and her walk with God.
2. Boaz, when Ruth came to work in his fields, told his workers to throw extra grain in her path so she'd have more to take home with her. However, he didn't tell Ruth that he was doing that for her. Boaz wanted to bless her and help meet her needs, but it wasn't in order to lord it over her or make her beholden to him. He wanted to bless her for the sake of blessing her, and he didn't care if she knew or not that he was the source of the provision. How many people have we had in our lives who did for us because they wanted to use it to control us?
3. Boaz made sure that Ruth was safe while working in his fields. Her welfare was his top priority.
4. Boaz recognized Ruth's integrity and sought to encourage her to press in and become the woman of God that God intended for her to be. Too many times, even among Christian couples, one partner ends up taking the other's eyes off God.
5. Boaz was an older single man. It was unusual for someone his age in that time to be single, but Boaz was content in that which God had called him to. He was deeply rooted in God's Word and spent much time alone in God's presence. I thought back to all the guys I'd given my heart to that had this restlessness inside of them, a restlessness born of unhappiness and discontent from seeking fulfillment in things other than God. Boaz put his whole identity in God, and although he had to wait a long time for Ruth, it was obviously worth the wait.
6. According to Jewish Biblical law, if a man died without having kids, the man's widow was to be married by the dead man's closest male relative to have children in the dead man's name. Although Boaz was a close relative of Ruth's late husband, there was another male relative who was first in line to marry Ruth if he so desired. Boaz wanted to do right by God and Ruth by offering Ruth to the closer relative first, even though it might mean that Boaz didn't get Ruth. Boaz's top concern was Ruth's spiritual welfare, and he wanted what was best for her, whether it included him or not.
7. Boaz was known as being someone of integrity and a man of his word, and when he made a promise, he stuck to it and carried it out immediately. There aren't too many men like that in the world (or the church) today.
Ruth's first husband was named Mahlon, which is Hebrew for weak or sickly. Boaz in Hebrew means strength and swiftness. What a great picture that when we wait for God's best, it turns out to be so much better than what we could get on our own. The truth is that we don't often wait for God's best, or take the time to observe character, because we, deep down, don't really believe that WE are worth the wait. We often buy into the Devil's lies that we're incomplete without someone, or there's something wrong with us, so we better settle for what looks the best at the time. If we can see how dearly prized we are of God, and how greatly He wants to bless us in this regard, than waiting for the right one is so much easier.
When I pray for my future husband now, I call him Boaz. Having this picture of "my future yes" has made it a million times easier to guard my heart and steer clear of the wrong ones, the ones that God clearly sees as "definite NOs." More importantly, though, I pray and concentrate my energy not on finding a Boaz but on becoming a Ruth, someone to whom a Boaz would be drawn. I pray that all the characteristics that made her stick out so much to Boaz would be evident in me. In the meantime, I know, too, that I am the Bride of Christ, and I need to learn what it means to be married to Jesus, both in how I relate to and love Him, and just how dearly prized I am in His eyes. If my heart is fully His and I am grounded in the fact that His Heart is fully mine, then when my Boaz does come along, my future yes will be wholehearted, unequivocal, and totally without regret.
Milk!!!!!
*This blog is based, in part, upon actual events and people. Certain actions and characters have been dramatized and fictionalized, but are inspired by true events and real people. Certain other characters, events, and names used herein are entirely fictitious. Any similarity of those fictional characters or events to the name, attributes, or background of any real person, living or dead, or to any actual events is coincidental and unintentional, so I better not get any phone calls from certain ex-boyfriends and former crushes accusing me of still pining over them. Three words: so over you!!! And to my paranoid, emotionally needy, velcro-clingy type friends who think, in discussing poor choices and screwy relationships that I'm talking about you. Guess what? I AM!!!!! All names have been changed to protect the innocent from harm and the guilty from embarrassment. *
Like many of us, I didn't have great examples as to what a Godly relationship was really like. As I went through my teenage years and young adulthood, I always seemed to gravitate towards men who resembled emotionally the dysfunction around me. Because I thought so little of myself, I would immediately latch on to whoever showed me the time of day.
When I moved to Tennessee, I was determined not to repeat the same mistakes. I had to first come to the realization that, although I didn't deserve the treatment I'd received from these various individuals, I did bring much unnecessary heartache upon myself because I was making very poor choices concerning those to whom I gave my heart. As I sought God's heart concerning the whole matter, He showed me that my biggest mistake in all this was that I didn't take the necessary time to really observe someone's character before entrusting them with my heart. So, I asked Him first what I needed to be watching, and this is what He said...
1. Does this person practice what they preach? Are they someone who tells me to do or say certain things but they don't live up to the same standards themselves?
2. What kind of person are they when they're under pressure? Do they immediately freak out and lose their cool? Are they someone who exemplifies a life whose confidence is totally grounded in God?
3. What kind of person are they when someone has wronged them? Are they the type that easily holds grudges, because if they are, it is a major red flag. If the person will easily take offense and hold a grudge against someone else, they will at some point be the same way with me. Someone who takes offense easily isn't walking in maturity or in the fruit of the Holy Spirit, and the Bible specifically warns us to steer clear of hot tempered men.
As I implemented these three tests, I discovered that I was able to save myself a lot of heartache, but I wanted to go deeper with it. (Yes, I believe that we are to trust God to bring the right person to us, that it's not just us merely going out and choosing on our own. However, the Bible says so much about watching the company you keep and making wise choices, and just as we have to choose God's best when He presents it to us, we can also choose the Devil's worst!) As I prayed more, I said to God, "It's not enough for me to know who the wrong ones are. I want to know what the right one looks like. It'll be a lot easier for me to say no to the wrong ones if I know who and what it is that I'm saying yes to. Is there any man in the Bible that you can point out to me who serves as an example of the Godly Husband You have in store for me?"
At that point, God told me to read the Book of Ruth and look at Boaz. As I read it, God pointed out some very specific things about him...
1. Boaz, whenever he praised Ruth, always emphasized her relationship with and devotion to God. A Godly man's first concern for his potential mate is what kind of Christian she is and her walk with God.
2. Boaz, when Ruth came to work in his fields, told his workers to throw extra grain in her path so she'd have more to take home with her. However, he didn't tell Ruth that he was doing that for her. Boaz wanted to bless her and help meet her needs, but it wasn't in order to lord it over her or make her beholden to him. He wanted to bless her for the sake of blessing her, and he didn't care if she knew or not that he was the source of the provision. How many people have we had in our lives who did for us because they wanted to use it to control us?
3. Boaz made sure that Ruth was safe while working in his fields. Her welfare was his top priority.
4. Boaz recognized Ruth's integrity and sought to encourage her to press in and become the woman of God that God intended for her to be. Too many times, even among Christian couples, one partner ends up taking the other's eyes off God.
5. Boaz was an older single man. It was unusual for someone his age in that time to be single, but Boaz was content in that which God had called him to. He was deeply rooted in God's Word and spent much time alone in God's presence. I thought back to all the guys I'd given my heart to that had this restlessness inside of them, a restlessness born of unhappiness and discontent from seeking fulfillment in things other than God. Boaz put his whole identity in God, and although he had to wait a long time for Ruth, it was obviously worth the wait.
6. According to Jewish Biblical law, if a man died without having kids, the man's widow was to be married by the dead man's closest male relative to have children in the dead man's name. Although Boaz was a close relative of Ruth's late husband, there was another male relative who was first in line to marry Ruth if he so desired. Boaz wanted to do right by God and Ruth by offering Ruth to the closer relative first, even though it might mean that Boaz didn't get Ruth. Boaz's top concern was Ruth's spiritual welfare, and he wanted what was best for her, whether it included him or not.
7. Boaz was known as being someone of integrity and a man of his word, and when he made a promise, he stuck to it and carried it out immediately. There aren't too many men like that in the world (or the church) today.
Ruth's first husband was named Mahlon, which is Hebrew for weak or sickly. Boaz in Hebrew means strength and swiftness. What a great picture that when we wait for God's best, it turns out to be so much better than what we could get on our own. The truth is that we don't often wait for God's best, or take the time to observe character, because we, deep down, don't really believe that WE are worth the wait. We often buy into the Devil's lies that we're incomplete without someone, or there's something wrong with us, so we better settle for what looks the best at the time. If we can see how dearly prized we are of God, and how greatly He wants to bless us in this regard, than waiting for the right one is so much easier.
When I pray for my future husband now, I call him Boaz. Having this picture of "my future yes" has made it a million times easier to guard my heart and steer clear of the wrong ones, the ones that God clearly sees as "definite NOs." More importantly, though, I pray and concentrate my energy not on finding a Boaz but on becoming a Ruth, someone to whom a Boaz would be drawn. I pray that all the characteristics that made her stick out so much to Boaz would be evident in me. In the meantime, I know, too, that I am the Bride of Christ, and I need to learn what it means to be married to Jesus, both in how I relate to and love Him, and just how dearly prized I am in His eyes. If my heart is fully His and I am grounded in the fact that His Heart is fully mine, then when my Boaz does come along, my future yes will be wholehearted, unequivocal, and totally without regret.
Milk!!!!!
Thursday, September 17, 2009
De-mythefying the Myth by Sharon Lurie
MOOD: God only knows!
*This blog is based, in part, upon actual events and people. Certain actions and characters have been dramatized and fictionalized, but are inspired by true events and real people. Certain other characters, events, and names used herein are entirely fictitious. Any similarity of those fictional characters or events to the name, attributes, or back-ground of any real person, living or dead, or to any actual events is coincidental and unintentional, so I better not get any phone calls from certain close friends, both nameless and clueless, who think I am somehow libeling them, when in reality they are too self-absorbed and self-obsessed and will think that anything and everything is about them, no matter what I write. All names have been changed to protect the innocent from harm and the guilty from embarrassment. *
I am a writer. I did not ask to be one. If I had it my way, I would have boring office job, working eight hours a day, 40 hours a week, squirreled away in a cubicle in blissful obscurity. However, God did not deem it so. If my life were put in book form, it would be a cross between Erma Bombeck and a Stephen King novel. As stressful as such a bizarre life is to the one living it, to outside observers, it is rip-roariously funny. Therefore, I decided it was high time I profit from this bevy of personal humiliations.
Now, there are some out there who would ask, “How stressful could a writer’s life be?” to which I reply, “excruciatingly so!” I am constantly called upon to offer humorous and/or inspiring anecdotes for every occasion, and let me tell you, it’s hard being inspired round the clock. Also, my grammar must be perfect all the time, too. I regularly am chastised for grammatical flaws and vocabularic (is that a word? Oh, if not, I’m sure one of you will let me know) faux pas, as if the spirit of my deceased grandmother has possessed everyone in my circle of influence.
However, there are other problems. You see, most writers get their ideas from real events and real people (or at least real inside MY mind). It’s (usually) not some otherworldly experience, such as watching the sunrise, being visited by angels, or some grandiose dream that, if I was honest, was merely the result of eating bad chili dogs the night before. No, most often, we writers merely report what we observe. Therein lies a problem. If I write honestly and straightforwardly, I will undoubtedly get an angry response from someone accusing me of writing about them and that they’re not pleased with the light in which I painted them. However, if I embellish or alter some actual event in any way, then I will get angry response from someone who witnessed said event, saying I’m not being true to life, am I not a good enough writer to let the truth stand on it’s own, blah, blah, BLAH! So, I will thus err on the side of caution and not be bound by strict neorealism, because sooner or later it will be YOUR identity I will be protecting!
“Sharon!” my dead aunt Roberta bellowed from beyond the grave, waking me out of a sound sleep (or, it could also have been the chili dogs), “how dare you write about me in such an unflattering manner!”
“What are you talking about, Aunt Roberta?” I answered, half asleep.
“Don’t play coy with me, young lady! In that story you wrote about the space ship looking for planets capable of supporting human life, and the slime covered alien monster that looked like a Cher impersonator and fed on human brains, I know you were referring to me!”
“Hmmm…well, let’s see. Are you a vain, narcissistic, self-serving, morally bankrupt, gluttonous extra-terrestrial with bad hair?”
“I most certainly am not!”
“Well, then I wasn’t referring to you, was I?”
Then there’s the whole process of writing. People who don’t write think it’s all very romantic, merely setting aside time on a certain day, putting on CDs of the ocean or dolphins, lighting candles that smell like assorted pastries, and the words just flow on to the computer like water from a faucet. I’d be lying if I said it never happened like that, but most of the time, it’s more like molasses running uphill in winter, and brilliant writing often comes at the price of one’s sanity. Here’s a diary of the typical writing process…
6:00 PM-sit down to write.
6:01 PM-Decide can write better if have something to eat.
6:02 PM-Find penicillin factory inside refrigerator and decide it needs disinfecting.
7:00 PM-Take bath in Clorox after cleaning refrigerator.
7:30 PM-Discover hair is now green after Clorox bath. Ah, but have gotten distracted from writing. Will sit at laptop and worry about hair later.
7:35 PM-Obsess about marriage prospects now that bare striking resemblance to The Joker.
7:45 PM-Stare blankly at laptop screen.
8:00 PM-Give cat tummy rub as he stares at me staring blankly at laptop screen.
8:15 PM-Decide will take break from writing and watch DVD for inspiration.
8:20 PM-Put “Bridget Jones’s Diary” on DVD to watch for umpteenth time.
9:15 PM-Loop scene in which enormously successful love god Mark Darcy tells metabolically challenged, morally ambiguous, and slightly scatter-brained Bridget that he likes her just as she is and cry like baby for the umpteenth time.
10:45 PM-Crap! Been at computer going on five hours and haven’t written anything besides “by Sharon Lurie.”
10:46 PM-Begin to obsess about publisher who will cut me into little pieces when I tell him at 8:00 AM that I haven’t finished the article.
11:00 PM-Make run to Wal-mart to see if they carry any over-the-counter Xanax so can stop obsessing and start writing.
11:30 PM-Still staring at laptop screen.
Midnight-Am banging head against laptop screen. Think am now delirious.
12:30 AM-Suddenly inspired and crank out Pulitzer-prize-winning article, thanks mostly to vision brought on by blunt-force trauma of head against laptop screen and herbal Xanax.
2:30 AM-Email article to publisher.
2:35 AM-Call Apple Care to tell them about shattered laptop screen and somehow convince them it’s because of a manufacturer’s defect covered under warranty.
3:00 AM-Pass out.
5:00 PM, two days later-Who am I and how did I get here?
And there you have it, folks. Not all fun and games and not a whole lot in the way of glamor. So why then, do you ask, do we writers do it? I can only speak for myself when I say that mostly, it’s because despite all the craziness, I like to make people laugh, I like to give people hope, and if recording all the nutty things that come out of my head enables someone to move forward, than I know that the green hair wasn’t for naught.
So, welcome to my blog. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go extract shards of lap-top screen from my forehead.
*This blog is based, in part, upon actual events and people. Certain actions and characters have been dramatized and fictionalized, but are inspired by true events and real people. Certain other characters, events, and names used herein are entirely fictitious. Any similarity of those fictional characters or events to the name, attributes, or back-ground of any real person, living or dead, or to any actual events is coincidental and unintentional, so I better not get any phone calls from certain close friends, both nameless and clueless, who think I am somehow libeling them, when in reality they are too self-absorbed and self-obsessed and will think that anything and everything is about them, no matter what I write. All names have been changed to protect the innocent from harm and the guilty from embarrassment. *
I am a writer. I did not ask to be one. If I had it my way, I would have boring office job, working eight hours a day, 40 hours a week, squirreled away in a cubicle in blissful obscurity. However, God did not deem it so. If my life were put in book form, it would be a cross between Erma Bombeck and a Stephen King novel. As stressful as such a bizarre life is to the one living it, to outside observers, it is rip-roariously funny. Therefore, I decided it was high time I profit from this bevy of personal humiliations.
Now, there are some out there who would ask, “How stressful could a writer’s life be?” to which I reply, “excruciatingly so!” I am constantly called upon to offer humorous and/or inspiring anecdotes for every occasion, and let me tell you, it’s hard being inspired round the clock. Also, my grammar must be perfect all the time, too. I regularly am chastised for grammatical flaws and vocabularic (is that a word? Oh, if not, I’m sure one of you will let me know) faux pas, as if the spirit of my deceased grandmother has possessed everyone in my circle of influence.
However, there are other problems. You see, most writers get their ideas from real events and real people (or at least real inside MY mind). It’s (usually) not some otherworldly experience, such as watching the sunrise, being visited by angels, or some grandiose dream that, if I was honest, was merely the result of eating bad chili dogs the night before. No, most often, we writers merely report what we observe. Therein lies a problem. If I write honestly and straightforwardly, I will undoubtedly get an angry response from someone accusing me of writing about them and that they’re not pleased with the light in which I painted them. However, if I embellish or alter some actual event in any way, then I will get angry response from someone who witnessed said event, saying I’m not being true to life, am I not a good enough writer to let the truth stand on it’s own, blah, blah, BLAH! So, I will thus err on the side of caution and not be bound by strict neorealism, because sooner or later it will be YOUR identity I will be protecting!
“Sharon!” my dead aunt Roberta bellowed from beyond the grave, waking me out of a sound sleep (or, it could also have been the chili dogs), “how dare you write about me in such an unflattering manner!”
“What are you talking about, Aunt Roberta?” I answered, half asleep.
“Don’t play coy with me, young lady! In that story you wrote about the space ship looking for planets capable of supporting human life, and the slime covered alien monster that looked like a Cher impersonator and fed on human brains, I know you were referring to me!”
“Hmmm…well, let’s see. Are you a vain, narcissistic, self-serving, morally bankrupt, gluttonous extra-terrestrial with bad hair?”
“I most certainly am not!”
“Well, then I wasn’t referring to you, was I?”
Then there’s the whole process of writing. People who don’t write think it’s all very romantic, merely setting aside time on a certain day, putting on CDs of the ocean or dolphins, lighting candles that smell like assorted pastries, and the words just flow on to the computer like water from a faucet. I’d be lying if I said it never happened like that, but most of the time, it’s more like molasses running uphill in winter, and brilliant writing often comes at the price of one’s sanity. Here’s a diary of the typical writing process…
6:00 PM-sit down to write.
6:01 PM-Decide can write better if have something to eat.
6:02 PM-Find penicillin factory inside refrigerator and decide it needs disinfecting.
7:00 PM-Take bath in Clorox after cleaning refrigerator.
7:30 PM-Discover hair is now green after Clorox bath. Ah, but have gotten distracted from writing. Will sit at laptop and worry about hair later.
7:35 PM-Obsess about marriage prospects now that bare striking resemblance to The Joker.
7:45 PM-Stare blankly at laptop screen.
8:00 PM-Give cat tummy rub as he stares at me staring blankly at laptop screen.
8:15 PM-Decide will take break from writing and watch DVD for inspiration.
8:20 PM-Put “Bridget Jones’s Diary” on DVD to watch for umpteenth time.
9:15 PM-Loop scene in which enormously successful love god Mark Darcy tells metabolically challenged, morally ambiguous, and slightly scatter-brained Bridget that he likes her just as she is and cry like baby for the umpteenth time.
10:45 PM-Crap! Been at computer going on five hours and haven’t written anything besides “by Sharon Lurie.”
10:46 PM-Begin to obsess about publisher who will cut me into little pieces when I tell him at 8:00 AM that I haven’t finished the article.
11:00 PM-Make run to Wal-mart to see if they carry any over-the-counter Xanax so can stop obsessing and start writing.
11:30 PM-Still staring at laptop screen.
Midnight-Am banging head against laptop screen. Think am now delirious.
12:30 AM-Suddenly inspired and crank out Pulitzer-prize-winning article, thanks mostly to vision brought on by blunt-force trauma of head against laptop screen and herbal Xanax.
2:30 AM-Email article to publisher.
2:35 AM-Call Apple Care to tell them about shattered laptop screen and somehow convince them it’s because of a manufacturer’s defect covered under warranty.
3:00 AM-Pass out.
5:00 PM, two days later-Who am I and how did I get here?
And there you have it, folks. Not all fun and games and not a whole lot in the way of glamor. So why then, do you ask, do we writers do it? I can only speak for myself when I say that mostly, it’s because despite all the craziness, I like to make people laugh, I like to give people hope, and if recording all the nutty things that come out of my head enables someone to move forward, than I know that the green hair wasn’t for naught.
So, welcome to my blog. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go extract shards of lap-top screen from my forehead.
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