Wishbone Assumptions

Wishbone Assumptions

During worship one Sunday, I saw an image of a wishbone. God held one side and offered me the other. Somehow, I knew if I pulled it, I’d end up with the short end.

I said to God, “What’s this about?” All at once, I heard in my spirit—disappointment in relationships.

Interestingly, the sermon that followed was about God’s desire for us to be one with Him—as in marriage. The wishbone was a signal to examine any wrong assumptions I held about God because of painful human relationships.

If you’re wounded in marriage, it’s hard to understand the “mystery” that Paul writes about in Ephesians 5.

For some, disappointment in relationships stretches back to earlier hurts with parents. Unresolved wounds in our original relationships play out in all current interactions.

Pastor Kim Unrau told his story as an example. Kim had a great dad—a dad who tucked him in, said “I love you” out loud, and told Kim he could be anything he wanted. His dad was stable and worked hard to provide, but also spent long hours away from the family, “advancing the kingdom.”

When Kim examined the past more closely, he realized his disappointment. He was living under several assumptions: First, that his father didn’t have much time for him. Secondly, when his father was around, he didn’t listen to him or pursue his heart. And finally, his dad always tried to fix him with pastoral platitudes. You could see the pain in Kim’s face as he shared.

Though Kim idolized his father, he was hurt by him. Left unresolved, those same assumptions shadowed his relationships with other men in authority.

Invariably, disappointment with people spills over into disappointment with God.

Around that time, my friend Pastor Jim Tharp wrote an article in Christian Renewal Ministries Journal. He pointed out that Christians coexist with many ongoing sins in their lives. He named a few, including the sin of “prolonged discouragement.”

Wait a minute! Did I read that right?Continue reading

The Predicament of “Otherness”

The Predicament of “Otherness”

Years ago, a Harvard sociology professor spoke on the subject of “taming barbarians.” He maintained that across many diverse cultures and throughout time, the future and stability of every civilization depended on it. Barbarians were defined as boys and men, ages 15-25.

Barbarians, he said, tend to live for self-serving, short-term goals. Girls and women—as child-bearers—are fundamentally more interested in building the future. And so the taming force for guys comes down to whether or not they form committed relationships—through marriage and parenting.

However, in modern times (read: birth control and promiscuity) many young women are short-term-goalers too. Just think how many sitcoms and reality shows depict 20 to 30-somethings acting like junior high kids—cheating, lying, backstabbing, and hooking up. A & E’s Crazy Hearts: Nashville premiered last night offering just that.

And so marriage and family structures are at risk on more than one front. Committed relationships are the glue in all societies, and the lack of them brings instability and downfall. History is fraught with examples.

Maybe you’re offended by this professor’s analysis. I tend to agree with him, though I don’t see it as a gender issue—rather a human condition.

In our carnal nature, we’d like everything to be centered around our life, with others fitting in accordingly. We want control of the channel-changer. We secretly turn the thermostat up or down to our liking. Movies like The Stepford Wives (1975) and the recently released film called, Her (2013), explore the idea of spouses and lovers created as an extension of ourselves. We want the world to be “personalized” for us.

Google, Amazon, and Siri are constantly forming their sense of what we want, echoing our desires back to us. Pandora will make a radio station just for you. Writer, Cass Sunstein, says that this kind of thing is a form of modern slavery. Similar to Huxley’s Brave New World, “people have lots of fun, but their lives lack meaning or genuine connection.” Their desire for pleasure is both “seductive and soul-destroying.”

Basically, we’d like to eliminate the wildcard of another’s “otherness.”Continue reading

The Eyes of the Spirit

The Eyes of the Spirit

Imagine an intoxicatingly beautiful day. Bright blue sky, lush green woods, and the dark glassy water of the French River in Ontario. In this scene, I am standing on the Pine Cove Road.

As a child, I can remember the electric thrill I felt when our car turned onto the Pine Cove Road. With all its curves and slopes, it was enough to make you carsick. But that didn’t matter. After a 500-mile trip, it meant we were only a few miles from our destination: Crayhaven—our family cabins on the French River, built by my mother’s parents in 1938.

So picture me standing on a particular curve of that very road. My father and mother are next to me. My sister and brother too. Cousins, Sue and Rick, are nearby, soaking in the soft sunlight. Other cousins, Mary and Cliff, are strolling up the road toward us.

My dad hand-signals all of us to gather close. We wait until Mary and Cliff join our circle. Great emotion sweeps over my father’s face. His eyes fill with tears, his lips tremble a little. After a minute of labored breath, he manages to speak.

“This is the last time…” He winces. A tear rolls down his cheek. “…The last time we will all be here together.” It is a solemn moment. We’ve shared decades of history in our little cabins there. A rush of sorrow and gratitude flood my soul.

Then the dream ended, and I woke up.

Some would call this a “now” message from God. The dream wasn’t surreal like some Alice-in-Wonderland fantasy. The scene involved an actual place I can pinpoint. I knew all the people, and each one looked exactly like they do in real life. It was vividly detailed and in color. And if you’ve read Chapter 10 in my book, you’ll know just how much our summers at Crayhaven mean to me.

I had this dream in the spring of 2009. Several months later, my mother enjoyed what would be her last summer at Crayhaven. She left us the following year.

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As it turned out, Cliff passed away too.

Why did God tell me in advance? Continue reading