Leave It. {Blessing the Boundaries, Part 7}

This post serves as an appendix of sorts to last summer's Blessing the Boundaries series:

Part 1: Pleasant boundaries

Part 2: What part of "no"...?

Part 3:  When You answer "no"

Part 4: The gift of thorns

Part 5: How Happy We Would Be 

Part 6: "Stay"

Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself ["laid aside His privileges," mg.], taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men (Philippians 2:5-7, NASB).

When we adopted Ebony, we discovered the very day we brought him home that he had significant fear issues. Our research efforts revealed that basic canine training classes help animal anxiety as much as they do other, more aggressive behaviors.

In the second or third week, we learned the "leave it" command. As we placed a yummy treat on the floor within Ebony's field of vision, we told him to "leave it." He was leashed for the training class, so the handler was easily able to check the inevitable lunges for the desired reward. Once Ebony had accepted that this particular food was off-limits, we could tell him to "take it." Needless to say, this was his favorite part of the exercise.

Over many weeks and repetitions, the duration of the hold increased and the proximity of the treat decreased. It's much harder for him to resist temptation when it's truly under his nose or he's waited so long he's drooling.

"Leave it."

"Okay. Take it!"

Why the fuss? How cruel and unusual a trick is this to play on our poor puppy?

As it happens, this exercise does not merely serve to establish who is the master and who the pet. We are training into him, in safe and controlled circumstances, the response we desire from the words, "Leave it." Once solidified, this command proves not only useful but essential when, for example, the coffee bag spills and beans skitter off the counter onto the floor and into his water bowl. "Leave it" then saves an emergency vet visit, at least, and the animal's life, at most. Again, when a glass jar shatters all over the kitchen linoleum and Ebony's instincts draw him toward the kerfuffle, "Leave it" keeps his tender paws at a safe distance.

What seems like an irresistible command to resist the allure of a tantalizing treat is actually the novitiate training for a harder, lifesaving obedience later on. The food incentive is not bad in itself but beneficial in appropriate measures. If it were a bad or unattractive thing we asked him to leave, it would be a poor training tool.

When I consider the Christian practice of fasting, as the Walk with Him Wednesday community has been encouraged to do, the "leave it" command comes to my mind. My practice of fasting has been sporadic and varied, and the last 20 months feel like a protracted fast from many things, but not from food. The off-limits "yummy treats" that call my name are not bad in themselves: visits with my grandmother, road trips with the global nomad who married me, studying cross-legged in my favorite chair, kneeling for prayer. For reasons of His own, however, God has told me to "leave it." I have heard "take it" more often in the last six months, but the boundaries still feel claustrophobic on a regular basis.

Trust calls me to offer those things back to God to keep or restore in His time. Gratitude calls me to look at all the good and perfect gifts He has given, the blessings of this present moment. Praise calls me to bless His name even if the boundaries narrow yet further and the stakes of obedience increase.

When the command chafes and I'm in the throes of tempted to throw a private temper tantrum, God sometimes reminds me of Ebony. Look at that first photo again:

Do you notice the direction of Ebony's gaze? He's looking at me, the one who issued the command and has the power to release him from it. All too often I stare at the bowl of food and drool, which only intensifies my frustration and does not hasten gratification.

For the most part, this blog has been a most blessed "take it!" Unhappily for me, for a little while I am sensing God asking me to leave it be and move a couple of non-blog matters to the fore. I think I can learn and do what is needful offline in the next two to three weeks, but the only way to accomplish that while still in physical therapy and completing the local Bible study commitment is to fast temporarily from posting.

My discomfiture about the prospect arises partly from past experience teaching me the difficulty of regaining momentum after a habit is broken for a time. I'm also realizing, however, that I'm reluctant to relinquish the sense of significance this community provides. That I am looking to your affirmation for approval and validation instead of writing from the overflow of a heart already secure and satisfied in Christ is a warning sign for me. My mental completions of the sentence, "I'd rather blog than _____," also show me this place may be an escape from unpleasant duties I'd just as soon push aside.

(Those of you who blog, have you experienced this? If so, where have you found help?)

Perhaps it is antithetical to blog about not blogging, but I know that you kind crumbles would worry if I suddenly went radio silent without explanation. This way you know how to keep me in your prayers as I keep you in mine and endeavor to keep my eyes on my Father-Master for His word.

Perhaps some of you are also sensing the Holy Spirit's nudge to lay something aside for a while. Perhaps your something is more serious and substantial than mine, or perhaps it's a blessing which has become unruly or doesn't fit within a new set of boundaries you face.

If so, we can watch our Father together and set the eyes of our hearts on Jesus, now exalted to His right hand after Himself pioneering the way for us by leaving the privileges of glory to be born into a poor carpenter's family so that He could lay down His life in love for us. Whether we know the reason for our "leave it" or not, we can lean into His intercession and trust that our Lord has a good purpose in this, that we might love Him and our neighbor better through what we lay aside.

The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you; the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace (Numbers 6:24-26, ESV).

If I do not already know your prayer requests from correspondence or your own blog, please feel free to communicate in the comments or by email at crumbsfromhistable[at]gmail[dot]com. With gratitude, I lift your names to the Father in open hands most days, and a privilege that is. Alternately, I'd be delighted to learn from listening to your experience of fasting and any Lenten observance you may have planned.

If the Lord wills, we will regather here March 12 or 13.

Grace to you in our Lord Jesus Christ.
With love in the Lamb,
tinuviel

Jackpot of Blessings

Bless the Lord, O my soul,
and all that is within me,
bless his holy name!
² Bless the Lord, O my soul,

and forget not all his benefits,
³ who forgives all your iniquity,

who heals all your diseases,
⁴ who redeems your life from the pit,

who crowns you with steadfast love and mercy,
⁵ who satisfies you with good

so that your youth is renewed like the eagle's.

Psalm 103:1-5, ESV

May the merciful, gracious, gift-giving Lord fill your week with a jackpot of blessings and grant us eyes to recognize His goodness and hearts to give thanks.

Thanking God this week for more of His abundant blessings:
~robins all around the neighborhood
~more green grass and lawnmowers
~an excellent physical therapist and intern helping me strengthen and heal
~hope growing in the soil of endurance

Daffodils preparing for their spring show

~encouragement in ladies' small group
~right Bible readings at right time, God's breathed-out Word teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training me in righteousness (2 Tim. 3:16)
~time with family Saturday
~Thunder Twins growing and learning so much. . . 5 years old, really? Wasn't it just last week I stayed over to help my sister with their little newborn selves?
~hugs from my Nonni
~rain replenishing needy lakes
~endurance and perseverance for first week of physical therapy rigors
~another job transition for a loved one wanting stability after more than two years of moves and employment changes
~God's good plan for my loved ones as well as myself
~answered prayers for a friend's brother
~an administrative error opening the way to chat with a friend
~God giving wisdom when I ask Him (James 1:5)
~a holiday for Allen today
~pleasant weather for his time outdoors
(from the gratitude list, #4002-4019)

In the chorus of thanksgiving with the community below:

The Gift of Thorns

 So to keep me from becoming conceited because of the surpassing greatness of the revelations, a thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. ⁸ Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. ⁹ But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so thatthe power of Christ may rest upon me. ¹⁰ For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong (2 Cor. 12:7-10, ESV).

            Twice here Paul states the purpose of his thorn: “to keep me from becoming conceited” (v.7, ESV). Granted, the affliction also came from Satan to harass and torment, but even that harassment proved a gift to pierce his pride.

            A decade of living with lupus has acquainted me with weakness and feeling harassed. Few days pass now without the slow hiss of punctured pride. I hear it every time it pains me to say, “I can’t do this. Will you please help me?” My private tantrums over unattainable desires, petty or substantial, reveal my addictions to control and comfort. My discombobulation at God’s refusals exposes the areas of life where I still want my kingdom, not His.

            Every life experiences thorns, none of which are easy or pleasant. Paul’s threefold prayer for the removal of Satan’s tormenting angel indicates his realistic assessment of the pain. This passage challenges our perspective on suffering because Paul does not stop at pleading for relief but opens himself to receive the blessings in the thorn:

·         Purging the pride that sets us in opposition to God (v.7; James 4:6).

·         Staging the perfect display of God’s sufficient grace (v.9).

·         Opening the way through weakness for Christ’s power to reside in him (v.9).

Paul so esteems these blessings that he boasts for Christ’s sake about the tough stuff of life rather than in his heavenly vision.

            Lord, thank You for the gift of thorns. We don’t like them and will be pleased for You to remove them as soon as they have accomplished Your work in us. Until then, they are a gift from You, our loving Father. By faith, we thank You and ask that Your grace and power would shine all the more because of them. Amen.

Prayer note: The physical therapist diagnosed the knee pain (i.e., not my imagination) and believes both that and the ongoing back pain are "manageable."  The less pleasant news (see paragraph 2 above) is that managing the issues requires 9 appointments (plus homework exercises) over 4 weeks. This will stretch my stamina and require some tough decisions about what to do and what to leave undone. My sincere thanksgiving goes out to you who pray for me! You are a grace.

Sharing with the Faith Jam about "vulnerable" today:

A Valentine from Ebony

Will you be my Valentine?

Never mind the chocolate. Send bacon.

Valentine's Time Capsule

a surprise from my friend Kate

Bonnie the Faith Barista encouraged her married readers last week, by word and example, to remember the affectionate flirtation of courtship and to revisit those in the days leading up to Valentine's Day. She shared a study which found that the key ingredients in successful marriages were fondness, admiration, and "put[ting] a positive spin on their marriage's history."

This challenged me. By God's grace, my beloved still owns my affection and admiration, but with the losses and brokenness we have sustained over the past 12 years, sometimes it seems the brokenness is our identity. As we take up our crosses to follow Jesus, as we die to ourselves in the daily endurances of life, we (or at least I) may be tempted to forget that the Gospel of Christ does not end at the cross.

As the angel said to the women at the tomb,

You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here (Mark 16:6, ESV).

The brokenness is not the end of our story. Affliction is not our identity. The trials of life are instruments in God's blessed hands that we might realize more fully the life of Christ in us. No matter how things appear, no matter how things feel, our story has a happy ending which ought to bring hope and that "positive spin" to our interpretation of today. For the Christian, every cross ends in resurrection; every broken place makes room for more of God's glory.

For you have died, and your life is hidden with the Messiah in God. When the Messiah, who is your life, is revealed, then you also will be revealed with Him in glory (Col. 3:3-4, HCSB).

Taking up Bonnie's challenge, I pulled out the notebook of our love letters. Actually, they were love emails. I don't recall when I printed them, but it's a good thing I did, because those accounts no longer exist. Where did we come from as a couple? Besides books and coffee and seminary chapel, what did our first love look like?

The notebook has lain open on our table since Thursday, each of us paging through by turns. The joy of revisiting them has surprised and blessed me.

It has encouraged me to see more continuity than I expected between the then and the now. The endearments we still use were selected in the very earliest days of courtship, and their number has only multiplied. Our first Valentines to each other fell out of the notebook when I picked it up, and the inscriptions were so similar that A. asked if we had planned it intentionally. We still do that, taking words out of each other's mouths on a regular basis. Sharing coffee and tea, exchanging prayers and counsel, trying to make him laugh with mixed results, printing on both sides of the paper--none of these things have changed.

Discovering some troubles during courtship which had been completely forgotten in the intervening years also strengthened my heart. Sometimes forgetfulness is a grace, too.

The words of our younger selves have also edified me in surprising ways. The great, gleaming faith of those days humbles me and makes me a little wistful. Our faith now is smaller, perhaps like a mustard seed, but it may through grace be a truer faith because a tested one. May God grant that our seeds of faith would grow and mature into bigger trust again.

We have enjoyed laughing together at our naivete and mushy romantic talk. I did not remember my non-fiction, deep-thinking husband being so smitten! My own silliness, on the other hand, was no surprise at all.

Last of all, the nostalgia has reminded me of the preciousness of exclusivity. We are each other's first romance. Excluding my dad, A. is my first and only Valentine. There are no other love letters, no other roses, no other kisses. Not everyone has that story, and I don't at all mean that ours is better. God gives a variety of tailor-made gifts; this happens to be one of ours, and I had come to take it for granted.

If you are still reading, I pray that this has encouraged you in your own relationships in some way. We are all living a romance, and the same need to remember and refresh our first love applies to our relationship with the Lord who loves us just as much as to our human relationships.

Speaking of which, another week means another list of the silly and serious ways He loves:
~our truest, eternal Valentine, the God who sings love songs over us
~red roses on the table
~wise counsel
~laughing with A. at the emails we exchanged through courtship and engagement
~silly nicknames
~husband who still opens doors for me, assists me in and out of the car, and helps me into my coat
~my one and only human Valentine
~our own words speaking back to us to strengthen and encourage today
~Faith Barista's post that prompted me to revisit them
~grace for lots of things left undone last week
~a week without medical appointments
~two long phone conversations with crumble friends
~empathy
~"upheld," the word and the truth behind it (Is. 41:10)
~choosing Valentines to send
~God ministering to two online friends through comment prayers
~a blurb from my Hawk and Dove review making a surprise appearance in the Kindle edition of the new book in that series
~my dad for discovering that and sharing the news
~having attended four for four Bible study meetings
~kind words affirming my involvement in that small group
~community's answered prayers for husband's colleague
~plans for coffee with a neighbor in a few weeks
~full bird feeder with lots of visitors
~a friend making herself available for intercession at any time of day or night: "My phone is always on and always with me. Just text, 'Pray now,' and I'll pray." God's grace at work in His body.
~strong hot tea on a cold, grey day
~addresses known by heart
~handwriting I recognize without seeing the return stamp
~more love in the mail, sent by a friend from long before the blog
~opportunity for more physical therapy help the next two weeks
~pleasure of anticipating a visit with family and my grandmother, come the weekend
~your patience with my unanswered comments
(#3023-53)

Sharing with the communities at Ann's, Laura's, and Bonnie's: