:: In.a.Mirror.Dimly ::

I want my life to work out after the first try. Who needs the mess that follows when I can’t get my work, my chores, and especially my relationships right on the first try? I sure don’t.

The power outage this past weekend really threw me for a loop. I got a lot of things wrong. My routine fell to pieces, including the parts where I pray and read the Bible. We started the weekend trying to help some friends move, and two afternoons in the heat did a number of me when I couldn’t go anywhere to cool down.

New chores were added, such as moving the rabbits to the basement, buying ice for the food that didn’t spoil, washing all of the containers that had spoiled food, washing clothes by hand, setting up an air mattress in our living room because the bedroom was too hot (especially for my pregnant wife who is due in 2 weeks), and even packing our bags to sleep at a friend’s house on a hot, muggy night. Sleep has been limited to say the least for both of us.

Each extra plate I had to wash. Every trip up the steps to our steaming upstairs. Every time I sat on the couch and couldn’t cool down. Every chore I couldn’t complete for our soon to arrive son. It all added up.

The meltdowns were small and quiet, save for the time I broke a glass container after washing another mountain of dishes.

I’ve had zero creative reserves. I keep thinking about the list of things I wanted to do in the nursery. I keep thinking of the essential parts of my routine that I’ve been skipping. I keep wondering when I’ll feel creative and able to think again.

I know I’ve been short with my wife. I had zero capacity for small talk at church or at our church’s picnic. Even the little things around the house take on ridiculously enormous significance when you’re sweltering and trying to plan for a baby and to get your freelance work in order before one of the most important moments of my life.

I wish I could have done a better job on the past four days. I want to take them, crumble them up, and toss them away. I see a ton of failure, aggravation, and confusion. I’ve never struggled to write like I have over the past four days.

I think I tend to treat these kinds of weeks like a first draft. I lament that I’ve failed, that a new chapter of my life has been written beyond repair. The reality is that we get second and third drafts in life. The failed drafts hurt, but they are drafts, not finished works.

There’s nothing all that pretty about the past few days. I hate to think that I’ve failed others. But I’m not done. God’s not done.

There will be lessons learned, new opportunities, and another morning to sit in prayer, to worship, to

New adversities will come up, and I’ll have another chance to get it right, to bless when I want to curse. Maybe I’ll be able to see past my own worries into the pain and struggles of others rather than just moping around like dead weight.

I’ll pick apart that horrible draft from the past four days, and realize how much I tried to carry on my own. How I struggled to be kind to others. How little I trusted God.

It’s the nature of God’s forgiveness and patience to review our failings, to smooth out those crumpled drafts of our lives, and to bring out a fresh, clean page where we can begin a new draft that will be stronger because of the weakness of yesterday.

Strength in weakness is a ridiculous concept in my eyes, but perhaps I can only accept God’s strength after failing on my life’s first draft.

We have been sorting through some old pictures as we try to downsize our boxes before moving next week. I’ve flipped through albums that were literally nothing but shots of Flyers games. We had pretty good seats, but I still can’t believe I thought that each picture I took would look all that different from the twenty others I had snapped.

Other pictures document parties in high school, family vacations, and odd college outings such as our disco bowling night. A lot of these pictures feel kind of awkward to me, perhaps digging up memories of insecurity, uncertainty, and turmoil in my family.

It makes me glad that I didn’t have a digital camera that would allow me to take 80 pictures of every single event and then shared with hundreds of people at once on the internet.

I catch myself in a kind of retrospective self-loathing when I look through old pictures.

That’s when I didn’t understand how to listen to Julie.

That’s when I judged people for listening to secular music.

That’s when I was stupid enough to have a crush on a girl who was completely wrong for me.

That’s when I didn’t feel accepted.

There’s a temptation to hate myself when I look back. If I’m not careful, it can creep into the present as well.

Heck, I may as well dread how awful I’m going to be in the future while I’m at it.

This self-absorption in my self-perception is a never-ending downward spiral that will not only make us miserable, but will also alienate us from others. It’s not rooted in reality, even though I’m sure I was sort of a tool at times.

As I look back on my friends, I don’t remember any of them as terrible people. Even the ones who wronged me have been forgiven—we’ve moved on and made new, better memories. I have grace for my friends, and therefore I’m pretty sure that they have grace for me.

OK, maybe there’s still someone who has it out for me. It could happen!

By digging up my memories of the times I was terrible, I’m acting like someone who can’t forgive and forget. I have to keep digging up the terrible stuff from my past in another doomed attempt at making things right. I have to remember what kind of person I really am.

I can’t forgive myself some days. And yet, God is fully capable of forgiving me.

God takes the terrible out of us. He has conquered the power of sin and death, and that includes the guilt of our past and the dread of the future. He rewires us by lavishing his love on us—and I don’t use a potentially cheesy word like “lavish” lightly. This is the firehose of God’s love (UHF reference).

To not only know but to experience the depths of God’s love is to experience radical acceptance that will not tolerate excuses or caveats. The past is healed, and the future is hopeful.

I can still bury myself in those old photo boxes and lament that I’m a terrible person. I can move away from God’s love.

However, his mercies are new every morning. He takes terrible people again and again. For those who are willing to sit in his presence, to wait for his deliverance, and to walk throughout their days mindful of him, there is love, peace, joy, and the end of all that is terrible.

When we abide in God, we can remember that we are loved people.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about sin. To be honest, I think I’ve completely misunderstood what sin is and what it does for most of my life.

I’ve probably posted about this before, but some things finally clicked for me last week and over the weekend. It was like I finally understood with some degree of personal certainty what sin is and isn’t.

Sin as a Chainsaw

There’s nothing like a head full of Bible verses to freak you out when you sin. I catch myself wondering if I’ve used up my sacrifice for sins or have somehow exhausted God’s mercy. I mean, is there a point where we’ve decided to cross God one too many times before he gives up on us?

I don’t think so, but then again, I’m really good at finding Bible verses to convince myself otherwise.

I tend to think of sin as this chainsaw that cuts me off the vine of Christ. I think of myself stuck on the ground, separated from God, and in need of a long, drawn-out restoration process.

My general approach has been to wallow and beg for mercy, which has some serious issues. I’ve been learning over the past few years how wrong that view really is, but it all came together last week.

Read the rest of this entry »

When someone close to you offends you or causes damage to your relationship, offering that person forgiveness in person may not always be possible. Perhaps this person becomes abusive whenever you are together. Perhaps this person doesn’t believe that he/she has offended you in any way.

While we should certainly try to reach reconciliation with those who have hurt us, sometimes verbally forgiving someone is not an option.

I hit this point in one particular situation, and I wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. Was I stuck with my bitterness?

I knew that offering forgiveness to someone who couldn’t understand the impact of his/her actions would only make matters worse. How in the world could I take a redemptive, constructive step forward?

Rising Above the Offense

My wife usually suggests that I deal with anger or an offense by praying for the offender. It forces me to see that person’s perspective and to, more importantly, stop looking at myself. Once I break the cycle of nursing my wound and replaying the offense, I can take constructive steps forward.

“Unforgiveness” can lead to stress, anger, and set us on edge in our other relationships. The sooner we can break away from our internal dialogues and commune with God, the sooner we’ll be healed. Only God can heal our wounds, though an apology from the offender would certainly help.

Forgiveness without Words

Even if we can’t verbally forgive someone, we can still step away from the offense and count that person as forgiven, not owing us anything. It’s hard to forgive someone without hearing an apology first. It’s not the most satisfying path forward.

However, if our only alternative is holding on to the offense, letting it eat away at us, and giving our offender power over us, we’ll only find ourselves stuck. Forgiveness does not need to be a conversation in order to be powerful.

Forgiveness While Dying

I’m reminded of Jesus forgiving the Roman soldiers as they crucified him and the Jewish leaders as they hurled insults at him. I get worked up enough if someone leaves an angry comment on my blog—enough said.

They were not ready to apologize.

And yet, Jesus used one of his dying breaths to plead with God for them. He could see their ignorance, and though none of us could blame him for spending his time asking God to stop his heart to end the pain, he was still concerned for them.

Jesus modeled radical forgiveness. It wasn’t satisfying. There was no reconciliation. Nevertheless, Jesus refused to let sin and death win. The love of God was stronger, even at that moment when all seemed lost.

Jesus would rise from the dead, but even in his moment of greatest “weakness” and vulnerability, he displayed God’s power and love in a way that few could understand or appreciate at the time.

Thursday Faith Jam: For more insights and stories about forgiveness, check out Bonnie Gray’s post, “Forgiveness Doesn’t Come from Vending Machines.”

Christianity teaches, among other things, that God can change us and that disciples of Jesus should live different. In keeping with the teachings of the Bible, Christian leaders are held to a high standard, but what should happen when our leaders fail?

We can debate our ideals on this matter, but Pastor and author David Trotter knows what it’s like to follow Jesus, to lead a church, and to then abandon himself to a series of sins that tore apart his church, his family, and eventually himself. He writes about his experiences with powerful, raw honesty in his book Lost and Found: Finding Myself by Getting Lost in an Affair.

I won’t lie to you, this book is difficult to read. It’s hard to watch a Christian make so many destructive decisions. It killed me to watch Trotter’s wife suffer through his neglect and unfaithfulness. I hated to read about Trotter’s indulgence in an affair with his wife’s best friend. I became upset as Trotter became depressed and suicidal, eventually checking himself into a hospital for three days.

This is a book that I can’t say you’ll “enjoy.” However, David has worked hard to sharpen his writing in this self-published book. He presents more details than necessary for the purpose of his story, but the book is important because he raises issues about leaders, churches, sin, and restoration that are essential topics today.

It’s a well-written account that I found hard to put down.

David and his wife Laura are opening up their lives for the benefit of the church, and whatever your first impressions may be of their story, you’ll be a better leader or church member for having read it. I don’t mean they have all of the answers for us. I wouldn’t be surprised if some readers disagree on certain points. However, if we read David’s book we’ll be much better prepared to handle pastoral affairs with greater compassion and understanding.

The subtitle suggests that David “found himself,” but that isn’t really the point of this book. In fact, the subtitle almost turned me off to the book. Trying to find himself was the problem in the first place. He got lost because he was consumed with himself and what he wanted. What he found at the conclusion of this book wasn’t necessarily himself. He really found a core group of reliable friends, his two children, and a wife who simply defies description with her character, strength, and grasp of forgiveness.

While this is David’s story, his wife Laura outshines everyone else in the narrative.

She endured one devastation after another, and yet she was willing to work with David and to eventually take him back (something you’ll know since she wrote the afterword to the book). After taking him back she lost a number of friends who were not willing to forgive him, thereby adding to the tragedy of the story.

I don’t want to minimize David’s pain and suffering, which were severe. However, Laura’s strength to continue working and serving her children, to reconcile with David, and to even edit this book leaves me amazed.

The reconciliation of David and Laura alone makes the book worth reading.

While watching David’s painful downward spiral will alert us to the personal hell that engulfs pastors in the midst of scandals and will help us prayerfully consider ways to help them, the restoration of David and Laura’s marriage shows us that God is able to change lives, to heal, and to restore what is broken.

Whatever you think of this book, David and Laura are worthy of respect for so openly confessing and sharing their story. I can’t imagine willingly reliving such a terrible time for the sake of a book, and that alone makes this book an important source for our discussions about leadership, accountability, expectations, forgiveness, and reconciliation.

You could say that this book proves that the Gospel is true.

If we truly believe this stuff about Jesus, then we have to believe that David and Laura can be reconciled even after he ran away from her, demeaned her, and suffered a breakdown. We need to talk about the expectations we place on pastors, the power and control that pastors demand, and how we are all complicit in such scandals. However, the most important lesson from this book is one of healing and reconciliation.

Besides my qualms with the book’s title, I also noticed that David often mentioned prayer and different points of growth with God, but the details were lacking. Since David personally sent me a review copy and I’m more interested in letting him tell his story than saying “Gotcha”, I asked him to flesh that out in a blog post. His post also raises the important matters related to the ways that pastors can misuse scripture and prayer as part of the “God business.”

Super-blogger Chad Estes has another review of David’s book and an interview that gives an excellent introduction to the book and to David’s heart.

I have previously addressed pastors and affairs in the following posts:

Why Pastors Fall Into Affairs

The Dark Side of Pastors

Note to authors/readers: I don’t review many books. If you read my blog and think I may be interested, drop me a line. However, I may take a pass on it. If I do review your book, I will try to be a critical reader.