Author: Hilarey

Hilarey Johnson grew up hearing that she would be a good student if she could get her head out of the clouds. Her daydreaming still makes it possible to get lost driving anywhere. She loves characters with a hidden or unknown worth who rise up to claim their identity. She writes redemptive stories from Idaho and travels in the Pacific Northwest with her husband. Someday Hilarey hopes to time travel. She is the author of Breaking Bonds, and Dance of the Crane fiction series. She has written books and articles for Guideposts, Brio Magazine, Christian Living Magazine, local news papers such as the Times-News, North Lake Tahoe Bonanza and others.

Violence on a Soul

Posted on by Hilarey

My husband and I are reading “The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry.” One night, we came across a phrase that made both of us pause—but we’d had very different reactions.

The phrase was “Hurry is a form of violence on the soul.”

Immediately, I wanted to underline it. I consider words valuable if they create emotion and imagery. Valuable doesn’t necessarily mean true to me. I liked the gut-punch. My husband blocked it. He wasn’t going to decide its validity unless it was quantified. Fortunately, the rest of the chapter did go on to describe.

Violence to the soul, in the case of the book’s argument, killed several things your soul needs. Relationships. Joy. Wisdom. Spirituality. And, it ultimately destroys your soul by killing all that we hold dear.

Hurry is hardly the only thing impacting our souls.

The word of God is one of more powerful things I’ve experienced in my soul. Usually it is the main conduit of healing. People bring shame and the gospel brings freedom when we “rightly divide” truth. Scripture is also powerful for the protection of your soul, and described as a sword, useful for offensive-defense in the armor of God.

Offensive-offense

But I usually see the gospel used differently. Cutting through lies is not the same as cutting people.

Sometimes, the children of God play in the safe and walk around with a sharpened sword of truth irresponsibly. We jab without remorse, to justify our own actions, or to control others.

Hence: Spiritual Trauma and Spiritual Abuse.

The first time I tried to control someone by their soul was when I wanted to tell my sister what to do. I said to her “a fool rejects counsel.” Actually, I said it to her back when she rejected my counsel. And I was serious. I now see it as more sinister than I did at the time. I really thought that everything dripping from my mouth was wisdom from above, since I feared God.

Obeying me is obeying your God

Laws are only useful against actions you can catch. Better to make someone believe they have to obey. If you don’t have to fight someone’s internal conviction, your goals are easier. Think of a parent praying with their children, “Please Lord, make these kids honor you, by obeying me, and go to sleep very quickly without getting up and asking for a glass of water, thereby profaning your name.”

Or a father yelling, “The Bible says to honor your father!”

A slave owner telling the slave to “work as unto the Lord, even with a harsh master like me.”

A husband justifying non-consensual intercourse because “the Bible says, ‘Your body is not your own.’”

A wife telling her husband he isn’t “washing her in the Word,” he isn’t loving her as Christ loved the church.

Anyone telling you, “God HATES divorce.”

Someone who calls you back to pray with them because they don’t want you leaving on your terms.

And basically anybody who justifies hurting you because, after all, “Paul did the things he didn’t want to do, either.”

How do you know it’s abuse?

These are only examples—it’s never beneficial to seek a fully inclusive, all encompassing definition of abuse. If you try to delineate all instances, something will slip by.

You know it though, when it causes violence to your soul.

If you have experienced any of these, it probably felt traumatic. Doing or saying one doesn’t make you or someone else an abuser, though.

A marker of abuse is that it is a pattern. The situation is different if it is persistent and pervasive.

Which is why repentance actually involves stopping the behavior.

The Sawdust and the Plank

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat in church and thought, “So and so totally needs to hear this.” Conviction stings. And sometimes it cuts deep. But, deflecting the injury to someone else is not the solution.

Which is so difficult. Because this Christian thing is supposed to be done in community. It’s our culture that wants a private, isolated faith.

But, letting someone else control you with scripture…that’s gonna leave a mark. Cult leaders always quote scripture better than you. Don’t be too impressed by it, or manipulated into continuing to suffer. You better make sure it’s God’s will for you to enable someone to continue sinning while you make excuses for them to never return to the Lord.

Scripture is not the thing to fear—assuming you get the gist of the Bible and letting others fill in blanks is the danger.

Scripture is for you. It is for you to measure yourself and let it change your heart. It is for the Holy Spirit to reshape your life.

It is also for you to weigh the motives and view the results of other people’s actions—before you allow them into your sanctum, or make pie with the fruit of their life.

It is, at times, for the fearful responsibility of teaching others. Namely, when they are seeking it out from you.

It is not for you to control others. Because no matter how much you memorize it, your heart might not be full of pure motivations. Your heart certainly doesn’t have all the information about them or God’s plan for them.

As Lisa Terkeurst pointed out in the book I can’t stop referring to (Good Boundaries and Goodbyes): the first sin happened after the enemy misquoted God’s words for his own purpose. And twisting scripture was the primary weapon Satan used against Christ when he tempted him in the desert.

So be careful anytime you feel like someone needs to see a scripture because you want a change in their life. Whether it’s taping up a verse on the fridge for your roommate, or texting unsolicited snippets to your grandchild.

A prophecy of Christ’s coming was: “a bruised reed he will not break and a faintly burning wick he will not snuff out,” so why do we justify using scripture like a weapon: two to the chest and one to the head?

Go to scripture for healing, let it guard you. Work on the plank. When people see YOUR thriving and victorious life, they may ask about the reason. Then, you can show them where the arsenal is.

So Many Voices

Posted on by Hilarey

A few years ago, I went to a woman’s retreat. A coordinator handed me a piece of paper and asked if I would stand and read it aloud at a certain point during the message. I said that I would love to help, and she told me how I’d be signaled. She left, and I opened the paper. On it was written:

God cannot be with me when I sin.

I felt immediate tension. It grew. I couldn’t put the why into words.

I love it when I hear something and a scripture pops into my mind. When God’s word confirms its validity or rejects it—and the matter is settled.

But sometimes there is just uneasiness. A conviction that something is wrong but you can’t put your finger on it. Because a spoonful of truth helps a lie go down a little easier.

Worship was still happening at the retreat. I stood, clenching the paper, stealing a sideways glance down at the words every so often. My adult daughter was with me. It was a weekend away for us to connect.

I could not say those words to her.

I folded the paper back up. Worship ended. We sat, and I thought about whether I could speak those words over anyone. I pictured a scenario where a woman returned home, remembering only one thing from the entire weekend: that she was cut off from God. God could not be with her.

And the lie would be delivered in my voice.

That made me feel overwhelmed. Under no circumstances could I stand in that congregation and say those words.

Writers tend to elevate the written word. After all, Christ is The Word that dwelt among us. The world was created through him, the Word, and for him. But the words that created light were spoken, not written. And I’m not just thinking about words this way because I’ve started narrating! This women’s retreat happened long before I dreamed of reading books aloud. But, I’ve had to process it a little deeper because of a recent audio project where I recorded myself saying, “Sin is separation from God.”

The words we speak hold more significance than exposing what we believe in our heart. Words have the power to bless or curse. And not modern vernacular of colorful language curse, but to speak harm into existence over a soul.

So—I went back to the woman coordinating the conference and told her I could not stand before the congregation and speak those words of alienation.

She said, “That’s fine.” Then looked at me, intently, and said, “Someone else will do it.”

I returned to my seat but couldn’t focus.

What do you do when lies are shared from the pulpit? Do you get up and quietly leave? Do you create dissension with your whispering and try to stage a coup? Do you stand up in the midst and rebuke? Many people seem to want the latter. To scream their voice out above the rest. I was in a church once where a man cried out, “Heresy” to the pastor, and the security team physically removed him. I cried all day. It partly inspired the scene in my fiction book, “Heart of Petra.” Discord among the brethren.

Shaking, I left my seat and found the woman again. I was trying to be brave for the sake of others, and told her that no one should stand up and say those things. Sometimes I think I’m a good communicator. But then things like the following happen.

She assured me that that statement was going to be read, even if I would not do it. Those words would be spoken over my daughter, and the entire congregation. She would see to it, regardless of how I felt.

I returned to my seat, wondering if there were only two options: to create chaos, or be an accomplice. I’d walked out of church service mid-sermon before, and I think I was planning to do it again the moment those words were spoken.

Now, fast forward. The coordinator could have saved me the adrenaline rush by letting me know that a half-dozen people in the audience had been given lies that sounded like doctrine and the speaker was going to listen to them, one at a time, and scripturally refute them. It was our event for the day.

But I know God allowed the misunderstanding for my benefit.

It was so I could process the junior-high-youth-group-false-doctrine that when you go into a party where there is drinking and sex; you go in alone. God waits for you on the porch because he can’t be around the sin.

It was also so I could understand how damaging pseudo truths are toward hurting people who already feel alienated from the church body. You are my favorite people.

Lastly, it was so I could contemplate how I wanted my voice to be used, and if I had the courage to do it.

A voice calling out in the wilderness

The interesting thing about God’s voice is that, even though the sound could be like a thousand waterfalls, I think it’s rare to hear his volume, anger and passion louder than the cacophony of all the others in this world. At least it will be until the end, since that verse about waterfalls is in Revelation. Don’t expect the energy of God’s voice to match persuasive dictators. You’re going to have to lean in to hear.

The Lord said, “Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.” Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire came a gentle whisper. 1 Kings 19:11-13

In case you’re wondering about that paper I held and the concept of God’s ability to be in the presence of your sin, God is Holy. He isn’t in the business of allowing us to continue destroying ourselves and others, and calling it good. But it isn’t like Christ bolts (with his fingers in his ears and a panicked expression) when someone sins, just because he can’t be around the dirty.

You will feel a difference in the connection of your intimacy with him and his voice. It’s a good reason to say “search me” when you first sit down to have a conversation. I see two reasons for an interruption of that communion with God. Knowing about, regarding and cherishing unrepentant sin in your heart and husbands who do not treat their wives as equals. God has good boundaries. He didn’t let Adam and Eve continue to eat from the tree of life and exist eternally in a state of sin. He cut off access and intimacy. And he won’t let you think everything is dandy if you are unrepentant when convicted.

But that misery isn’t abandonment. As my prayer partner recently reminded me, God promised, “I will never leave you or forsake you.” He is still there during your sin and others’ sin against you. Ignoring him intentionally will make communication harder. Being distracted by other voices will make it harder. You will hear him less when you practice not listening. If you intentionally, repeatedly, forcefully choose something over him, you may get to the point where he honors your choice.

Otherwise, you will hear his voice if it is your desire it and you make space to hear it. But do expect sometimes to wait. One thing I love about Spanish is that the verb “esperar” means “to hope,” “to expect,” and “to wait.”

I wait for the LORD, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
my soul waits for the Lord
more than watchmen for the morning,
more than watchmen for the morning.
Psalm 130:5-6

I recently heard an interview with Jamie Winship by podcaster Jeanie Allen called Conflict Zones, the CIA and Listening to God, which takes hearing that voice to a higher level. I’ve listened a few times, and can’t recommend it enough.

Have you thought about what you are using your voice for?

Take Luck

Posted on by Hilarey

“Take Luck” was from a skit by stand-up comedian Brian Regan, where he talked about intending to say, “Take Care,” and then switching to “Good Luck,” halfway through. It’s a funny one.

I think of it when sending a meaningless salutation. To offer without really offering. Take some luck from somewhere, and have it. Keep it with you. I also think of his skit when I see generic signs that say something like, “have faith” or “be blessed!”

Have faith in what? Be blessed how? Take some luck with you—I think there’s a bowl on the counter.

James 2:16 says, “and you say, “Good-bye and have a good day; stay warm and eat well”—but then you don’t give that person any food or clothing. What good does that do?” It’s like when you pass a homeless person on a frigid night, on your way back to your car, and you call out, “Stay warm!”

There is power in words and power in prayer, and it is significant when you speak a blessing over someone’s life. That’s different from when someone has a need, you see it, and you have a tangible item like a spare coat. Something to hold on to.

Substance

Have you ever experienced making up a story about someone in your head? You go into the creepy part of Wonderland (down a dark rabbit trail.) And then when you see the person, or talk to them, you know right away that none of it is true. Your theory had no substance. Nothing to hold on to.

All it took was a conversation to find out the truth.

This used to be the annoying thing about simple romances to me when I was a young girl… especially because I value (kind) directness. I could never get behind a heroine whose entire conflict was a misunderstanding or an unspoken clarification. If they would just have that conversation already, there would be no book.

I have another quote from Good Boundaries and Goodbyes by Lisa Terkeurst, since it’s what I’m reading right now, “Relationships often die not because of conversations that were had but rather conversations that were needed, but never had.”

It’s true, we can write out scenarios that seem like reality. And then a bit of truth, not even a deep dive, and we find out differently.

Making it up

We watched a few episodes of the Good Place and their funny world-building includes a heaven that “no one could imagine.” They have a picture in heaven’s office of a guy who got really stoned and said, “This is what I think heaven will totally be like.” He’s heralded as the guru who got the closest.

It’s meant to be hilarious, but many people treat things of God, and eternity this way.

Most people believe they are critical thinkers, not emotional. But faith without substance is stoned-luck. No matter how critically you look at the void, it’s still empty.

Scales and measuring cups

My friend mentioned something to me that has proved itself true again and again. She said she thought she was eating in her caloric budget until she started writing things down. I’ve seen it myself. Recently, I saw somebody order something in a restaurant that looked delicious. So I tried to copy it at home. I made a light shrimp and fettuccine salad. But when I added it to MyFitnessPal, it was 800 calories. The restaurant had served double. Not exactly a light lunch.

And even more than just logging what you’re eating, you can think that something looks like an appropriate portion—until you weigh it. It’s doubtful that the average eater actually knows what 25 grams of fiber looks like over the course of a day. Due to years of cooking, I can judge weight and volume close to accurate and often cook without measuring. But when it really matters, I still get out the scale.

So, upon closer inspection, you see details more accurately when you actually weigh yourself against the Bible.

And let’s be honest, another interesting correlation is that the days I don’t want to obey or know the scale… those are the days I don’t measure food. So there’s a submission/discipline factor of not wanting to know if I measure up. Sometimes I just want to eat like an asshole. This is likely a larger contributing factor (besides laziness or time management) for not looking in the Bible. We don’t want to see if we measure up.

But here’s the problem, someone who is a Christian, but doesn’t read the Bible, is really susceptible to the weird tangents of Christian religion. Taking someone else’s word for what the scriptures say inevitably lays the groundwork for future deconstruction. This is what children do: accept the world through the lens and experience of those over them. This is not what a maturing Christian does.

You don’t want to have a void or ungrounded faith that can’t weather storms. Take some luck, and keep it with you. Care for it.

So, you can be frustrated with what you think about God. You can be frustrated with what you think about the church. But if you’re not holding it up to a depth of study in the word, you are not frustrated with substance. You’re following a rabbit down a hole. If you look at the way the letters to the church explained the right way to live—and then you see how Christians are disobeying—that’s something to hold on to.

I used to get annoyed when I saw a verse partially quoted. (Romans 8:1a) But then I realized that the chapters and verses were added. So even memorizing a whole verse can miss the larger context. That isn’t even to mention re-wording and misquoting. I’ve seen people defend mis-worded scripture with tears. This happens when you “already know what it says” before you read it. But that’s another topic.

I love a quote I heard from Theologian Preston Sprinkle. He says, “Let the strength of your conviction reflect the depth of your study.” Pick the mountain you’ll die on.

You are doing yourself an extreme disservice if you hold your convictions tight in your head and heart, without opening the Bible to check their weight.

So the point is, get out the scales. Grab on to something solid. Read for yourself.

The Heart, Mind and Soul of the Matter

Posted on by Hilarey

When my kids were still at home, we sometimes ate standing at the counter, buffet style, without plates. This was for charcuterie-type meals like chips, veggies, dip, cheese and crackers. It was typically a pre-holiday event so people could come and go. But sometimes, late, and after karate, it was just to get a meal started as we were still pulling food out. It could be a frenzy of laughing, talking, and reaching.

My son told me recently that even if the food itself isn’t comfort food, it is a comfort to him to have a meal this way because of the memory of it. He also said his roommate had no context for a family meal like this because his mom always plated his food.

I’ve done that, too. And I’ve known people irritated by their childhood mealtime because they had to clean their plate, but weren’t in charge of what was on it. So I’ve been thinking about the heart behind the action.

Picture a mom dishing up everyone’s plate. She chooses your portion and sets it before you. She could do it this way for more than one reason.

Maybe:
She wants to see your delight when she places the plate in front of you, and she’s simply helping you.
She is selecting the best cut of meat for you.
She is selecting the best cut of meat for herself.
She is selecting the best cut of meat for your volatile dad, so he’s appeased and everybody might get to finish dinner.
She doesn’t want to clean up after everyone else’s messy attempt to serve.
It is all about control, and she’s trying to make sure you don’t overeat because she thinks you’re fat.
It’s all about insecurity and she wants to remind you that the food comes from her, and her only personality in this season of life is feeding people.
There’s someone greedy at the table who would fish out all of the meat and leave everyone else only broth.
Someone’s hangry at the table, and it just streamlines the meal.
It’s the only thing she is in charge of.
It’s for love and worry that she wants to make sure you eat the right foods, not just white bread.
There is barely enough to go around and she is making sure that you get a fair portion.
Food is scarce, and she’s rationing to fund a second meal.
And maybe, she’s not just sure why her mom served everyone—but she feels like she can’t break tradition.

The thing is, you can only assume her motivation—and whether there is more than one motivation contributing.

This isn’t a post about forgiving moms for our eating disorders.

It’s just to describe why God is after our heart.

We are often very conscious of how our actions look or are perceived by others. But actions can be faked. They can just be a rule or a tradition. Actions don’t tell the entire story.

Just because there is a lack of a sin you can pinpoint and cry out, “There! That thing you did was wrong.” It doesn’t mean wrong wasn’t done.

Actions, Motivations and Iniquity

I’m reading Good Boundaries and Good Byes by Lisa Terkurst, and she writes, “I discovered iniquity points to the character or motivation of the action more than the action itself. So it’s not just what someone does or doesn’t do; it’s what her actions represent.” The author uses this to describe when we cannot really pinpoint something as a sin. More the “nuances of hurtful issues within human relationships that don’t clearly point to sin.”

The same tradition can bring life to one household and oppression to another. Even in the same house, a rule can be life-giving or demeaning. Not every one of my family members had pleasant emotions about those meals at the counter.

What’s the difference? Sometimes the situation or personality of the one who receives, affects it. The person who gets the food put on their plate. But mostly—the difference in how actions affect you is the heart behind it (or the rule and how it’s enforced.)

Anything can be twisted by motivation.

So be careful when giving or receiving advice, or following new parenting trends.

And damage isn’t only a result of a malicious motivation. So many things I did incorrectly as a parent were motivated by fear. Which seemed like it came from love, but it was still tainted because fear isn’t from God. I always want to be cognizant when fear motivates my actions.

And to try to turn over my heart. It isn’t just the sin of murder— it’s also the justification of anger. It isn’t just adultery—it’s the lingering.

Don’t Give Up

In those situations where the heart was sincere but the action still created pain and discord—I think the motivation of the heart is redeeming. I know a mom who asked her kids, “Yes, but… when you look back, can you ever say that I did not love you?”

And even if that question is not given a thoughtful answer, our God cares about our why. That’s not to say obedience isn’t required to follow him. But loving God with your heart, mind and soul comes first. Then, loving your neighbor as yourself follows. And that neighbor interaction has to overflow with sincerity of heart, or it gets weird.

“The LORD does not look at the things people look at. People look at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7.

I think there can be dread to give God your heart because you think he‘ll make you change your actions. Our purpose isn’t so much to focus on whether or not mom should plate the food or what does God want me to do? But to let him in. To love him. To be loved by him.

God’s kingdom will not be brought by changing certain actions, voting, laws, force, hostile takeovers or outlawing sin. It is what the Jews wanted when Rome was oppressing them. It’s what many people want now, one world system to throw off the oppression of a different world system.

Neither will God’s name be glorified by a segregated utopia—yes, a holy people, sanctified and set apart—but not living behind a gate hoarding and protecting their resources of joy, love, and prosperity. When I was a child, I used to think Christians should be immediately raptured. I didn’t know why we had to live here. I thought God should just talk to individual hearts and then we should disappear.

God’s kingdom arrives through our internal renewal while we are still mucking around here in the mess. Sanctification comes from turning over our hearts.

God’s motivation

Some see God as punitive: he sent his son as punishment for our sins.

Some view our God as a reconciler: he created a path for us to be reunited to him.

(Actually, I think the difference might originate in Eastern Orthodoxy and western traditions.)

Does it matter though—if one of those statements is more true than the other… so long as you turn from sin and walk the straight and narrow? So long as the actions are “right,” and the food is served correctly?

Well, yes, it might a little, when it comes to trusting him with your heart.

Sonship and Citizenship

Posted on by Hilarey

I remember standing on the deck of a beautiful home in Tahoe for a home group gathering. The leader responded to my compliment about the view, his home, and yard with, “Where God guides, he provides.”

It’s so, so true. God directs us. He opens and closes doors. All good things come down from the Father of Lights. He is the way-maker.

But this was during the time my husband was physically injured. We were losing our barely affordable rental to a thriving real estate “seller’s market,” and we didn’t know where we would be moving. I was unskilled—waiting tables at more than one restaurant—while my husband tried to stand upright again. It was just months after I’d weaned our third baby.

So my whispered reply was, “I wish God would guide me.”

God’s Favor

Casually spoken Christian terms and quotes alienate people more than they glorify God.

There are certain privileges you owe to the structures of this world. Such as, you were born in a country where citizens learn to read. Even though God loved Jacob and hated Esau before they were born it isn’t God’s favor over you that prevented you from being born into disease, famine, prison, or a refugee camp—and someone else into it.

The idea of God’s favor reeks of prosperity doctrine—but I especially dislike it because I hear it when people just want to describe how God approved and enabled their plans.

As lovers of God, we want to do great things for him. So we make plans. And if he aligns the stars and decimals—we tell everyone that we have his “favor.”

Many are the plans of man, but the Lord directs his steps.

And sometimes, he laughs at, scoffs, or taunts the world’s plans. Yeah, possibly even your plans and mine. He rejected Uzzah’s. (A man who likely had good intentions of not letting the Arc of the Covenant fall to the ground…but who wasn’t a priest and therefore was prohibited from touching it.)

It isn’t God’s favor in the form of your success, which proves your sonship, or your citizenship in heaven. Sometimes if things look fantastic for you in this world—it’s just because you are operating well as a part of this world. Or you had a leg up.

Things are just going to be easier if you are born into a society with public services, the ability to own private land, and within an infrastructure for (some) free education. If you are born to an intact family and money, you will have many more options and opportunities than others… and a softer place to land if the stars and decimals don’t align.

Reserve, there are two different kingdoms operating simultaneously—and some principles will help you in both. If you do not cheat on your spouse, they are less likely to leave you (for infidelity, at least.) If you show up on time and work your best, you are less likely to be fired (for laziness, at least.)

But don’t confuse good principles operating under the structure of this world as God‘s favor. Sometimes you do all these things, and you are still abandoned, lose your job, never receive the pay you deserve, have health issues, and cannot provide for the future of those you love.

This is not a reflection of God’s favor on you.

Because not everyone doing well in this world reached success because of honor or adherence to God’s principles. There is a selfish kind of wisdom that will advance you in this life.

And even though God wanted to give Israel prosperity—sometimes they achieved it themselves through oppressive interest rates, enslaving others, buying land from the desperate, and exploiting the immigrant.

I found a Bible Project article article that mentioned, “… in the biblical narrative, prosperity, and wealth are often signs of brutal injustice toward the vulnerable.”

On the other hand, not everyone who adheres to God’s principles will be rewarded on earth. Christians are anticipating a home anda reward yet to come.

Besides, even though all perfect gifts come from him, not all things the world calls “good” are… good.

How #imblessed looks to unbelievers

Don’t use “though none go with me” as an excuse to trample others along your way. It does matter how we look and sound to unbelievers. Paul talked about the way the gift of tongues should be used in the church—stating that if a nonbeliever came in and it was chaotic, “Would he not think you were all mad?”

It is fine to live well here. Defend your right to burn trash on your lawn with your dying breath. Finagle a better interest rate and take your neighbor to court. Just don’t call it “trusting in the Lord,” “God’s favor,” or a “blessing,” and think that it glorifies God.

And stop confusing success in this world as proof heaven’s citizenship.

Is it your fault?

It’s painful when your life looks like you neither adhere to the decent principles of the world nor have tangible gifts and God’s favor. You lose your home, your job, your health. The most obvious question for other believers to ask you is, “Is this pain a result of your sin or your parents?” Just like the disciples asked Jesus regarding a man born blind. Just like Job’s friends accused. It’s easy to imagine the prodigal father questioned all his life’s choices before he ran to embrace his returning son and fell upon his neck.

Remember, all the tangible gifts given here on earth will still burn up with the rest of the temporal things. While we should enjoy them, we should more intently seek the treasures in eternity that can’t be destroyed. The favor you cannot yet see, taste, touch—or post on social media.

Sometimes people leave the faith because their torn garments, fasting and praying, doesn’t bring the good life or the restoration of relationship, that was promised. The candy machine God isn’t the one we should peddle… because it isn’t God’s favor or lack of tribulation that proves sonship. Not when Jesus said if they hated him—they would hate us. Not when he promised we would have to endure troubles.

Hebrews 12:7-8 “It is for discipline that you have to endure. God is treating you as sons. For what son is there whom his father does not discipline? If you are left without discipline, in which all have participated, then you are illegitimate children and not sons.”

We don’t need to always think of discipline as correction or punishment. Discipline is simply what makes you drag yourself out of bed in the morning. Most of the time, discipline is making the head choice instead of the flesh choice for food, exercise, study and relationships.

Discipline can be a judge—but it can also be a personal trainer.

And I feel like the writer of Hebrews is encouraging the reader with the reminder “in which we all have participated” as confirmation that your tough times, your pain, prove your legitimacy as children of God.

You’re not abandoned. You’re in training.