Plucking daisies

My post today is simple: We all experience pain. All of us.

And all of us tend to question God when the pain persists. Every single one of us. Because deep down we know the truth: "Endure hardship as discipline." Hardship is a form of divine discipline. We don't like it, it doesn't fit with our "Loving God" platitudes, but there it is in black and white.

I've been studying Hebrews 12, where the scripture says, "Do not make light of the Lord's discipline." Make light means two things in the original: To shrug off, or to despise. Don't resent God's discipline. Don't rationalize, don't walk away, don't tune it out. Pain is an intervention, and God is the One calling the meeting.

"Do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines those he loves and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son."

What?!

That's not how we see things. Not at all. When the stress is mounting and our hearts are crumbling under the weight, when pain ripples through our soul and drags us to our knees, we secretly (or not so secretly) wonder: "God, I thought you loved me." And the next nugget is right on it's heels, no longer a prayer, but a thought: "I guess God has rejected me."

"Wait!" God says. "I'm disciplining you and allowing this pain in your life BECAUSE I love you. It's actually proof that I ACCEPT you!"

Huh?!

Too many of us waver on this, almost like the insecure lover plucking petals from a daisy: Something good happens... he loves me. Something bad happens... he loves me not. Something good happens... he loves me. Something bad.... he loves me not.

How many of us experience a trial or hardship, recognize it as discipline, and marvel, "Wow, God must really love me!" Can't say I do that too often. You?

God, you love me. Even when I love you not.

What's your problem?

A young woman comes to see me in my office, concerned for her child, who is having night terrors. "Is it demonic?" she asks.

A businessman pulls me aside in the church foyer and confesses that he's been apathetic and lethargic lately. "Is this a sin issue?" he wonders aloud.

A young man is hearing voices in his head and is becoming increasingly manic in his mood swings. "Is it chemical?" he asks, through tears.

I've been asked questions like these hundreds of times. Maybe you have too. But these questions presuppose the idea that there must be one answer to the question. I think this is partly because we hope that our issue can be resolved like a neat and tidy episode of the Cosby Show.

Let's say I'm struggling with sadness and maybe even depression. Is my problem:

a. A sin issue
b. A demonic oppression
c. A chemical imbalance of some sort
d. A lack of faith on my part
e. A difficult season of my life producing predictable emotions for a person in my position
f. That I'm believing lies about myself, life, and God
g. A co-dependency issue in my relationships
h. I need more of the Holy Spirit
i. I'm being bound by my past

Almost no one would include an "all of the above" option. We tend to fall into theological camps that buy wholesale into one system of interpretation. There are camps that are big into spiritual warfare, for example and to them, almost everything is demonic and must be resisted, attacked, and defeated. The sin camp people think it's something to confess, renounce, and walk away from. The medical community says it's just a matter of restoring chemical equalibrium via the latest drug or herb regimen. The name it and claim it folks think I just need more faith. A counselor might think it's a past issue with my mother or that I'm codependent somehow. A prayer ministry guru thinks I'm believing lies that are keeping me captive. A charismatic thinks I need a fresh anointing or filling of the Spirit of God.

Who's right?

What if... to some degree, in most situations... they all are?

What if our chemical balances really do effect our mental and emotional health, which in turn effects our spiritual health? What if Satan loves to piggyback difficult situations to make them more unbearable than they'd have to be? What if my chemical balance is out of whack because I've been believing emotionally charged lies about myself and what if I've been sinning to try to soothe the ache in my soul? What if I've been living independently of Christ and need to surrender in a fresh way to God's Spirit so that he can fill me with a new power and vision for Jesus?

What if there's no one right answer, and what if many times, there is truth in almost any suggestion? What if learning to do what we can to address each facet of each issue is part of what it means to face an issue with integrity and maturity?

My TV stint

I'm going to be on TV.

I know. Weird. Weirder still because I didn't pursue it. A couple of months ago, the Miracle Channel contacted me and asked if I'd be willing to come be a guest on their flagship program, called The Bridge, to discuss my book.

What? How'd they even hear about Finding Home? I still have no idea. Thanks, God.

Anyhoo, yesterday I fought with gusting wind for 2.5 hours as I drove up to Lethbridge, AB where the station is located. I was surprisingly calm—if God brought this about, he'd take care of it, right? Even so, I spent a good chunk of the time rehearsing my answers to the questions they assured me would frame the core of the interview.

When I arrived, I was pleasantly surprised by the size and quality of the building. "Wow, this is a big deal," I thought, still at peace.

The receptionist ushered me into the Green Room (never had one of those before), a space designed to make guests feel relaxed and welcome as they prepare for their particular slot on the show.

My contact person, Amy, came to greet me, turning on a television set which she explained would display the Bridge hosts taping the introductory sections of the show before I came on. A few minutes later, she returned...

To put on my makeup. Yeah, part of the biz, I'm told. And I have a shiny forehead, which is a no-no. After some serious fluffing and buffing, shiny forehead be-gone. I don my mic, give her a nod, and a few minutes later we traipse down the green mile... I mean hallway... into the set portion of the studio.

I was shocked by how big that was. Amazing. Only half the room was used, and you could probably run a thousand member church service in the half that contained the set. After watching them record the final segments preparing for mine, I was ushered to a table with three chairs—two for the husband and wife host couple (who were very professional and nicer than nice gets) and one chair for my little lonesome.

Ignore the cameras, I was told. Look at the hosts... unless the Spirit of God directs you to address the people watching the show. Which didn't happen.

Three, two, one... cameras roll, and off we go. The very first question wasn't on my list. I froze, made up a couple of sentences, then found my stride. The interview was filmed in two 13 minute segments, and I think I did pretty well. I tripped over my words a few times, being more nervous with this than with my usual preaching ministry, but the guest that followed me said I was like a pro, like a long-time guest. I'll take his word for it.

I still shake my head at all this. Did it really happen? Oh Jesus, may just the right people watch the program and read my book, and be changed forever. Amen.

PS: I'll let you know when the show airs and see if I can post the video somehow..

But wait! Did I mention they got me a room at the Ramada Inn, complete with Continental breakfast and super-cool water park?

So that's it. Time to pack up and go home.