But It's Not Fair!

This past Sunday, my pastor started his sermon by reading us the parable of the workers in the vineyard (Matthew 20:1-16). I'm very familiar with the story, but a funny thing happened this time around. As we were reading, I thought of it in a totally different way--a way that's very applicable to my state of mind of late. And then the pastor gave the same application in his sermon that I was thinking!


To refresh your memory, the parable is about a man who starts in the morning employing workers for his field. They agree on a day's wages and everyone is happy. But then in the afternoon, he employs some more folks and at the end of the day, pays them the same as the poor slobs who've been slaving away all day. So the first workers, who started out happy and thinking how generous their master was, degenerated into grumbling and complaining and feeling sorry for themselves. The master pointed out that they had been happy until they compared themselves to others. That he had given them a good deal, and that they shouldn't complain just because he wanted to be generous to the late-comers.


Of course, Jesus applies this to the Kingdom of Heaven. He demonstrates that all of us reach the Kingdom through his generosity, and that if someone accepts his gift at the end of their lives or late in the day, they'll attain it just the same as those who have been serving Him their whole lives.


That's the way I've always thought of that parable. The sermons I've heard about it took that approach.

But last Sunday, as I read, I thought about my grumbling and complaining about my so-called writing career. After writing and trying to publish for over 30 years, I have a hard time hearing about others who manage it almost immediately. (Lately I'm even jealous of people who have ONLY been at it for 10 or 15 years!)


I admit it, my attitude is lousy. I don't necessarily get jealous of people with nicer cars or houses or better-paying jobs. But show me a newbie writer with a publishing contract and I go into instant whining mode.


Even worse, some of those newbie folks write a lot better than I do! Talk about adding insult to injury. Why is it taking me so long to accomplish what they've picked up with hardly any work at all? (Add whimper here.)


Picture my surprise when the pastor made the same application to this story, pointing out our tendency to look at others' lives and rewards and engage in a pity party, rather than being grateful for God's generosity.

The parable doesn't explain why some folks have to work longer than others for the same reward. It just focuses on how generous the master was to EVERYONE that he employed, without exception.

My pastor urged us to make a fresh start in 2010. I'm game. Do I have any company out there? (Although come to think of it, most of you previously-unpublished writers who have been reading my blog over the months now have publishing contracts. But I love you anyway. You just might want to invest in earplugs to dampen the sound of the whining.)

What if you lost everything--and got it back?

Can anyone help me out here? I saw a powerful quote on one of those church message boards a few weeks ago, and with my Swiss-cheese-like memory, I can't quite remember how it goes. But the point of it was this: You know all that stuff you're worried about right now? All that stuff that drives you crazy? Your kids, your job, your car? What if you lost all of it--then got it back? How would you feel about it then?

I already thought this was a pretty profound way of saying that we shouldn't take things for granted. Something we all know, but need to be reminded of. And then I recently got a real-life example of how this idea works through a harrowing experience of a close friend.

This friend lost her job awhile back and had to sell her house for financial reasons. She ended up moving in with her sister in another state while she's trying to get back on her feet, so almost everything she owns is in a storage facility here in Georgia. That in itself has been pretty depressing to deal with as the months drag on. Just think, when the seasons change and you'd like that coat--oops! It's in storage. Suddenly have an urge to sew? The machine is in storage. That book you'd like to re-read? Well, you get the point.

And other things haven't been going well. There are health issues. There was a car accident. The new job is extremely stressful, and another layoff is possible. So my friend's nerves were nearly at the breaking point.

And then came the horrible letter. It was from the management of her storage facility, telling her there had been a break-in, and that they hadn't been able to reach her by phone when it happened. They told her the police had come out and taken extensive pictures and were working on the case.

Frantic, she tried calling the management, but naturally they were closed for the evening. She called the phone number they had provided for the police and spoke to someone who wasn't actively involved in the case, but who told her that if they had sent someone out to take pictures of a storage facility break-in, that usually meant one thing. Everything was gone. Sometimes, it seems, thieves simply take a truck to a storage facility, load everything into it, and worry about sorting through it later.

Everything was gone. Bear in mind, for my friend this meant more than furniture and sewing machines and clothes. She lost her parents when she was a teenager, and all the photos of them would be gone. A fellow writer, she had hand-written and type-written manuscripts from pre-computer days that she would never be able to duplicate. All gone.

Or so it seemed.

She was devastated. She could hardly speak or breathe when I talked to her that evening. Then I called her the next morning, after the storage facility in Georgia had opened and she was able to talk to someone. Now she heard the incredible news: nothing was missing! Yes, there had been a break-in, and some of her knitting yarn had been scattered on the ground, but it appeared that everything else was intact.

Suddenly, her situation was just the same as it had been a couple of days before, with health issues and job stresses and all the rest. And yet, everything was different. She had her photos and memories, and her manuscripts. Things she had taken for granted, but that now brought her such joy. Just by going through this with my friend, I felt more grateful for everything God had blessed me with and allowed me to keep.

I'm sure life is still hard for my friend, and it will be hard to hold onto that moment of joy. I know it's hard for me not to slip back into ingratitude and whining.

But wouldn't it be wonderful if we could all live as if we had lost everything, and gotten it back?

Desire

Last week at church, I noticed two different mentions of "desires" in our church's order of worship, even though the sermon didn't specifically deal with that.

The first was a line from a prayer from The Valley of Vision (p. 354): "I praise you for the throne of grace, that here free favor reigns; that open access to it is through the blood of Jesus; that the veil is torn aside and I can enter the holiest and find You ready to hear, waiting to be gracious, inviting me to pour out my needs, encouraging my desires, promising to give more than I ask or think."

The next lines were in the hymn we sang, "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty":

"Hast thou not seen how thy desires e'er have been
Granted in what he ordaineth?"

I made a note at the time that the two views of our desires struck me as different. In the first, the Lord is "encouraging our desires." The picture from that prayer rather reminded me of going to see Santa Claus. (I know the Puritan who wrote it would be shocked, but I'm in confession mode here.) The Lord is sitting there on his throne, waiting for me to climb up on his knee and read out my list. Then he would pat me on the head and promise me to deliver, assuming I was a good girl. I doubted that view was right, but I have to admit there's a part of me that likes that picture.

But the lines from the hymn...well, those seem to say that God's in charge. He knows what's best and he ordains it. We're going to get what we need from him, even if it isn't necessarily what we want. That sounded more true to me, but did I like it as much?

I put the church bulletin aside for several days, then pulled it out again just now. And this time, I didn't see much of a contradiction. The other lines of the hymn that I didn't reproduce here also talk about spending time with the Lord, praising him, drawing near to him in his temple. In both cases, we're spending time with God, getting so close to him that we know him. We love him and praise him and want to please him. And through that process, we should arrive at a point that what we desire for ourselves is the same thing that he desires for us. Then our desires are "granted in what he ordaineth."

I wonder daily how close I am to that point. I have a lot of desires, I must confess. God answers one prayer and I immediately start whining for something else, like a spoiled child.

A lot of my desires have to do with accomplishments. I want those achievements bad! And when I seem to be stuck in place, I sometimes find it hard to be the person God wants me to be. So are those achievement goals what God wants for me? Do I really know his mind well enough that I only desire what he wants for me?

That's a tough journey. I want to be at that place, but I know I'm not that close to him yet.

A Labor Day Every Week

I don't know about you, but I'm thrilled about the Labor Day holiday this coming Monday. I have nothing planned, but that's what makes it so wonderful. I can feel my nerves relaxing a little just thinking about a break from the routine, the busy-ness, the LABOR.

Oddly enough, I just made a note about something I read in Scripture this past week, and I realized that it's the perfect devotional for a Labor Day weekend. I realized that God gives us a Labor Day every week!

It's a commandment actually. One of the Big Ten. We're supposed to remember the Sabbath Day and keep it holy. God wants us to perform our labors in six days, but on the seventh day we're supposed to (gasp!) rest.

That's quite a concept in our culture. Even if we don't go to our jobs, do we really find time to rest--on any day of the week? I'm not trying to be legalistic here or talk about rules. It just struck me as an interesting contradiction. Our culture values busy-ness, productivity, and achievement. But God knows we also need rest. We need to quieten our minds and be able to concentrate on spiritual things. On Him.

Even on my Christian writers' loop, during a discussion about trying to find writing time, someone suggested that if nothing else, we could possibly cram in a few hours' writing time on Sunday afternoons between morning and evening church, because that was usually a quiet, slack time. Hmmm...

I'm not saying there's anything inherently wrong with writing on Sundays. But if it's become another chore to fit in, another job...is that resting from our labors?

Last week's Scripture reading was from Ezekiel. God was reminding the prophet that he gave his people the Sabbath day of rest "as a sign between them and me. It was to remind them that I, the Lord, had set them apart to be holy, making them my special people."

The suggestion here is that it was unusual even back then for people to take time away from their labors. I picture the temptation to the people of Israel if their heathen neighbors had one extra day of productivity every week. Were they afraid of falling behind? Not getting as much produce to market? Not producing as many goods? Losing out to the competition?

Were they just like me, in other words?

If God were a harsh taskmaster, mainly concerned with their productivity, he wouldn't have taken away one-seventh of their workdays. Instead, God showed them that he could prosper them when they relied on him instead of relying on their strength. Their work. Their schedules.

That's a reminder I constantly need. Even during this three-day weekend. Because in addition to thinking of being away from my job, I've also started compiling lists of the house-cleaning chores to catch up on, and the stuff I need to do for my online shop, and the writing, and the blogging...

I'd say I definitely need to readjust my focus!

Varying Your Pace

I've been hearing the phrase "interval training" for awhile now, but didn't know anything about it. I've been faithful for years to go for a nice brisk walk at least three times a week, and that was enough to keep me in shape. Plus I enjoy it, so why tamper with a good thing?

Then the Big 5-0 rolled around, and my body started to change in mysterious ways. I decided if I didn't take action, I'd be rolling around instead of walking, myself.

So, for the first time in years, I've started an official diet. I'm trying out the South Beach Diet online, and one of their newsletters mentioned the benefits of combining interval training with walking. They suggested twenty minutes every other day, in which you walk at a nice, comfortable pace for four minutes, then go really high-intensity for one minute. You repeat that cycle four times.

I love it! I feel that I'm getting so much out of that twenty minutes, and the time just zips by because the exercise is broken into manageable pieces. During that one minute, I can hardly breathe but that's okay, because I know it will be over soon. Then I slow down and enjoy. The next four minutes fly by, and before you know it, I'm back home and feeling great.

There's got to be a life metaphor in there, right? This is probably one of those things you could twist around to mean whatever you like. I choose to look at it in a positive light. Yes, there are times when I don't seem to get much writing or "art" done, but I'm still moving. Then there's the intense time, when I seem to be flying along, heart pumping, excited--full of ideas, turning out those pages.

But I can't maintain that. I have to slow down. That word count that was going to be constant and every day falls by the wayside. But I'm still moving. And there's another intense time coming.

And maybe that's okay, after all.

To Wait or To Act

If you used to read my other blog, you know I've thought and read a lot about waiting. Waiting for something you want. Waiting to fulfill your dreams. Waiting upon the Lord. Especially in today's fast-paced world, it's a hard thing to do. Even figuring out how to do it can be difficult, which seems a bit odd. After all, waiting means doing nothing, right? Just...waiting.

Well, sometimes. Sometimes not.

Yesterday's sermon at my church really hit home on this topic. Our assistant pastor, Eric, preached from I Samuel 13 and 14. Saul, the king of Israel, is leading a battle against the Philistines and has been told to wait for the prophet Samuel to come and offer a sacrifice before taking any action. So in this case, waiting means just that--do nothing.

But Samuel doesn't show up. Saul fidgets, he worries. They're squeezed on either side and outnumbered by the enemy, and his troops are deserting. He wonders what he should do. Finally, he decides that he has to do something. He's the king of Israel. He can't just sit there. So he offers the sacrifice, himself.

It's a big mistake. Samuel does show up, and tells him that because of his disobedience, God will not establish his dynasty, but will allow Saul's throne to pass to someone else.

In the meantime, Saul's son, Jonathan, has also been chafing at doing nothing, but his attitude is different. “'Let’s go across to the outpost of those pagans,' Jonathan said to his armor bearer. 'Perhaps the Lord will help us, for nothing can hinder the Lord. He can win a battle whether he has many warriors or only a few!'”

Jonathan doesn't so much want to take control. He wants to see what the Lord wants to do. He's willing to take a few steps and see if the Lord tells him to stop or go further. Once they're close to the Philistines, he tells the men who have gone with him that he's going to call out to the enemy soldiers. If the soldiers goad them to come up and fight, he will know that God wants them to proceed and will give them the victory. If not, he'll know he's acting in his own power and should stop.

The Philistines challenge him to come up, they proceed, and God gives them a victory in an amazing way--something they could not have done themselves.

I needed to hear this message right about now. I know I'm feeling weak and discouraged because I'm trying to take control. The voices all around me tell me to act, plan, work, accomplish. I'm floundering around in my own strength, and I've got the stress and jangled nerves to show for it, but not much else.

As Pastor Eric said, sometimes God wants us to just rest. Sometimes he wants us to put ourselves in position, so he can use us if he wants to.

My thought is that he wants us to take just a few steps, rest, and ask again.

First Mozart, Now Jeremiah

If you've followed my blogging for awhile, you'll know I'm disturbingly moody about my writing goals. I'm close to quitting and convinced that's what God wants. Then I declare he's let me know he wants me to keep going and I will persevere no matter what. Then I crash again and start asking God if this is what he really wants.

I don't like this about myself, but the other night I was reading a chapter of Jeremiah (ch. 20) and the great prophet himself seemed to be doing the same thing.

In the One Year Chronological Bible (NLT), the section is titled "Jeremiah's Complaint." He says, "O Lord, you persuaded me, and I allowed myself to be persuaded...So these messages from the Lord have made me a household joke. And I can't stop!"

I can't say I'm a prophet carrying divine messages, but I can feel his pain. I know what it feels like when I'm in the depths of self-doubt and feel that my writing is all a joke, and I wonder why God seems to assure me I should continue.

Next paragraph, Jeremiah seems to be full of trust. "But the Lord stands beside me like a great warrior. Before him they will stumble. ..Praise the Lord! For though I was poor and needy, he delivered me from my oppressors."

So now he's got it all settled. He won't waver again like I do, right?

The very next verse starts, "I curse the day I was born! May the day of my birth not be blessed...My entire life has been filled with trouble, sorrow, and shame."

Somehow it helps me to know that faith isn't a struggle just for me.

Onward!