On Scales, Sin, and Self

Today I made a remarkable discovery. I weigh the same as I did three weeks ago.

What? Not remarkable? Let me back up. For the last couple of months, Loren and I have been trying to watch what we eat and get into better shape. And I stuck with it for awhile. But the last few weeks, I started to slip, and I stopped weighing myself. You see, I have a love/hate relationship with my scale. When I am eating well and losing weight, I love it. I jump out of bed in the morning to go see what I weigh, and the tenth of a pound that is probably a result of one less sip of water the night before excites me. But when I start eating my body weight in tortilla chips and washing it down with Twix bars, the scale starts gathering dust. Loren's excited words over the weight he's lost are filtered through my guilt and begin to sound like condemnation. I'm suddenly not so excited to see myself for what I really am.

Which got me thinking about my Walk. I tend to do the same thing with God. When I am spiritually patting myself on the back, following my self imposed reading plan, spending the extra minutes during my day talking to my kids about Christ, I'm pretty eager to open my Bible and search God's word. But then, I start to slip. I watch something dumb on YouTube instead of reading my Bible for a couple nights. I snap at my kids over and over for a few days. Satan attacks, blowing everything way out of proportion, making me that much more discouraged. I get defensive at the sight of my husband in the Word, having conversations in my head about my disobedience, imagining his disapproval. And suddenly, I'm not quite as excited to approach the Throne.

This afternoon has found me in prayer and repentance, realizing that God has not changed, in spite of myself. And when I finally take a deep breath and face who I really am, full of sin and self, I see Grace staring back. Which is way better than ANY number on the scale.

Happy 3rd Birthday, Tirzah Irene!

It's hard to believe that it's been three years since our beautiful, dark haired little girl was born. While in years past, we've made a point of making the day very quiet and unscheduled, today was more of an average day. I slept a lot, having worked all night, and Loren went to training at the church in the morning. This afternoon, we went to the cemetery and, as has become tradition, sang "Happy Birthday" best we could through the tears and released balloons.

It was afterwards, however, that struck me. In the car, and later, over dinner (thank you Grandma and Grandpa for babysitting!) we began to discuss what the Lord had taught us through the life, and death, of our fourth little girl.

First and foremost, in both of our lives, is the assurance that God is enough. No matter what. If someone had told me as I stood in the cemetery burying my dad that I'd be back in less than a year to bury my daughter, I never would have believed that I could survive it. And yet, we did. As J.I. Packer said, "I have known God." He became real in a way that no amount of prosperity could produce. From those first hours, holding each other in the darkened hospital room, praying and crying and praying some more, God was there in a way I don't think either of us had experienced before. In the midst of suffering deeper than we could have imagined, God upheld us. He comforted us. And we were assured that we were not alone.

For me, maybe even more important was the fact that doctrine matters. Weird thing to get from the death of a child, I know, but follow me here. After Tirzah died, so many people tried to comfort us with hollow words. "She's an angel now." "God didn't want your baby to die." Etc, etc, etc. I realized that my faith was really my husband's faith, and the things that he had wrestled with and studied, I hadn't. I would exercise, listening to John Piper's exposition of Job on my iPod. Seriously. Wayne Grudem's Systematic Theology and R.C. Sproul and other theologians became salve as I studied the scriptures, desperate for answers to why my prayers for my little girl were seemingly not answered. I have come away with an understanding of God's sovereignty, of His love for us and for His glory. The questioning and wrestling and crying out in my grief have given my faith a grounding in TRUTH, not just emotion.

Thirdly, faith. Simple, right? But it is so easy to trust in only what we see, and when all we see is a hole, and a grave, and a few pairs of baby clothes to remind us of a life that is no more, then what? Very quickly, we had to put faith in the God of Eternity. Tirzah was with Him, as we will one day be. Then faith that His plans are good. Faith in prayer. Faith in conceiving another child, and faith in God when we were drowning in a sea of non stress tests and ultrasounds. Now, that faith comes in smaller things. Faith that God will continue to provide for our most basic needs. Faith in the leadership at our church as we become members. Faith that God will be glorified in the decisions we make about employment and education. Simple things, but things we can entrust to a God who has proven Himself faithful and kept our feet from stumbling.

So tonight, as we hold Tirzah's little gown and hat, touch the lock of hair on her birth certificate and marvel over the few pictures we have, it is with hope born of three years of wrestling, questioning, and ultimately, trusting.

Rev. 21:1 Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth passed away, and there is no longer any sea.
Rev. 21:2 And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride adorned for her husband.
Rev. 21:3 And I heard a loud voice from the throne, saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them,
Rev. 21:4 and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.”
Rev. 21:5 And He who sits on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.” And He said, “Write, for these words are faithful and true.”

Love Megan...and Loren