I Don't Read Postcards from Hell

I got a soul that I won't sell, 

And I don't read postcards from hell. 

- The Wood Brothers

It's been about a year and a half since I wrote this post, "Crazy Jesus Parables and Dead Pigs." In hindsight, it's a rather cryptic post. I don't give any context to why driving out demons and the house of the impure spirits meant something to me right then, that fall; I don't let on that I felt like I was constantly pushing off the temptation to engage another man who was interested in me, I don't let on that I did not want anything to do with him but I also didn't mind hearing that someone found me attractive, I don't share how conflicted I felt, how guilty I felt, how weak and needy and lonely I felt, even though my husband was around, yes, around, but I missed him. I was distracted and tense, trying desperately to stay pure, to resist temptation, to keep it together.

I wrote about what was happening in my life but I didn't really write what was happening in my life. My world was under threat, and I was the first guard at the gate. What better weapon to wield than the Word of God? 

I am not sure what would have become of me and my marriage if it wasn't for the Bible. 

This sounds crazy. 

Crazy Jesus Parables and Dead Pigs sustained me. Letters from the epistles reminded me what to do when my emotions reeled, when my immediate heart's desire was to be filled, to be filled with something, anything, when the easiest access was this other man who so readily handed out compliments, who readily flirted, who assumed I wanted to hear these things... and I did.

Except I wanted to hear them from my husband, the man I had committed to love, til death do us part, not him.

As fall crept into winter and winter sloshed into spring, resistance built on resistance, brick by brick. Gradually, it passed. It passed, and I survived. Our marriage survived. The notes and emails from him didn't stop, entirely, and some of the things he said ran on a random loop in my brain, but I knew what was right. I knew what was good. I knew what was true.

Lately, my guilt and shame about being tempted at all has dissolved away into rage. How dare he? I find myself thinking, from the safe distance of a healed marriage, from behind the wall of love and security my husband has built around me. This is one truth: I did not ask for those things. The realization that what I put up with for almost a full year could have been, should have been, called sexual harassment, this realization obliterates everything else.

Almost.

Because this is another truth: I was still vulnerable. There is something inside me that longed to be filled, to be openly adored and desired, and, let's face it, after nine years of marriage, isn't everyone a little tired of trying so hard all of the time? The temptation was strong. It would be a lie to push the burden of responsibility entirely onto the other person. But it would also be a lie to take the full weight of that responsibility.

From this side of mercy, Brandon and I tell each other all things. Everything has been laid bare here; every temptation, every hurt, every longing. He has seen it all, and he still loves me. He loves me, he loves me, he loves me.

From this side of mercy, I see the Word of God a bit differently. As a new believer, I viewed the Bible and its rules as guidelines to earn God's love and acceptance. The B-I-B-L-E: Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth. How clever. The laws of God were given to keep me in line; if I followed them, then God would bless me. If I broke them, God would turn his back on me.

Over and over again, the psalmists praise God's laws and precepts. "Oh, how I love your law! I meditate on it all day long," the psalmist says in Psalm 119. What?! How could someone sing about rules? How could someone love the law, those restrictions, those barriers, how could someone praise God for the law?

From this side of mercy, however, I find myself singing along with the psalmist, "Oh, how I love your law! I meditate on it all day long." It was the law, the Word of God, that showed me the way and said, now walk in it. The heart only wanted to be filled, immediately. I used to think the Law was given to earn God's love, but now I see that the Law was given as a gift of love from God. The Law was a grace bearer. The Law, fulfilled in Christ, delivered me. 

Here, child. I love you. I don't want to see you in pain. Here, let me tell you what to do, even though you think this is the hardest thing you could do, here, let me show you the way so that you might walk in it, so that you might walk into the valley, through the desert, and enter the promised land. You will persevere; perseverance will produce character, and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint. You will do more than survive, my child, you will thrive.

Daily I sing, from this side of mercy, from this side of grace, from the broken but healed side of redemption, "Oh, how I love your law! I meditate on it all day long."

Laws and Ordinances

I've been reading in the psalms lately and have noticed a common trend that I found bizarre.  The psalmists spend a lot of time thanking God for his rules/law/precepts/ordinances etc.  I don't know that I have ever thanked God for his law, so I've been thinking about this a bit and have come up with some parallels in my every day life that help me to understand gratitude for rules.

1. Job Descriptions
Imagine being hired for a job with no specific job description.  Or being a builder without a blueprint to follow.  Or perhaps just having a supervisor who has vague expectations for each task-- write a letter, crunch the numbers, give me a budget.  A letter to whom?   About what?  Is it formal?  Informal?  And what numbers do you want crunched?  (I think of the Office here.)  How much money do I have to work with in order to establish this budget?  What are your priorities?  I think you get the idea.  When there are no clear objectives, no clear guidelines or rules, there is no basis by which to begin a relationship.  No definition of the terms -- are you my boss, my co-worker, or am I your boss?  But when I have a clear and specific objective for a task or position, I operate much better because I know exactly what is expected of me.  The framework within which I work might be very rigid and defined, but it is within that definition that I find the freedom to do the work I've been given.  I am not chained to doubt and confusion.

2. Children
There are days when we need to shake up our schedule a bit.  We stay out later, push back dinner, skip a nap, wake up earlier.  Once in a while doesn't seem to do too much damage, but several days in a row of missed sleep or poor eating habits and my children turn into demons in training, or begin to appear as if they are possessed by demons.  They wake up screaming in the middle of the night (night terrors?) and have a hard time waking up in the morning.  They cry about everything.  But, when we get them back on a schedule, give them the proper foods to eat at the proper times of the day, and make sure they are sleeping enough, they return to the energetic happy people they were before the shift in their lives.  The structure provided them gives them the boundaries within which to live the fullest and healthiest life.

3. Diet
I love sugar.  Three spoonfuls in my tea in the mornings, three spoonfuls in my tea at lunch, several semi-sweet chocolates a day, a couple of scoops of brown sugar in my oatmeal, a quick munch on a chocolate-covered cookie dough truffle... mmmm.  Sugar. 

Brandon and I are on day three of the Whole-30 Challenge, a detox type diet that eliminates all grains, sugar, dairy, legumes, white potatoes, and other unpronouncable ingredients in food.  There's a specific list of foods we are supposed to avoid in order to help our systems "reset" from all of the junk we put into our bodies.  On day one of this diet, I had the maddest craving for sugar I have ever had in my life.  All I could think about was how badly I wanted chocolate.  I needed chocolate.  It was nuts.  I even had a headache most of the day from the sugar withdrawal.

But after just two days of following this regimented diet, both Brandon and I are feeling markedly better.  I feel less heavy and slow; his stomach isn't bothering him nearly as much as it usually does.  We are disciplining ourselves to cook and eat healthier, to deprive ourselves of fulfilling every desire of the flesh (SUGAR!!!!) and to feed ourselves the food that will make the vehicle run the best.


I am thankful for these kinds of systems and guidelines in my life, because by operating within clear precepts and laws, I have the freedom to live a full and healthy life.  It only makes sense, then, to praise God for the same laws and rules he's provided to give structure and direction for how to live the healthiest and fullest of lives on Earth.  Even more so with the Holy Spirit living within us to serve as our guide.  So, praise God for his laws and his rules, for the system he has established to instruct, rebuke, correct, and restore.