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Prioritizing Our Hopes
When you go through a trial, especially an extended trial that disrupts or even destroys your earthly hopes and dreams, you either learn to focus and depend more on your eternal hope or slide further into despair.
I imagine that every Christian that has gone through an extended trial will remember coming to this difficult crossroad and facing this choice. In truth, 
it’s a decision we should have made when we committed to follow Christ – whether or not we were going through a trial at the time. By definition, a Christian is someone whose primary hope is an eternal hope in Christ.
“…we who have taken refuge would have strong encouragement to take hold of the hope set before us. This hope we have as an anchor of the soul, a hope both sure and steadfast…” (Hebrews 6:18-20)
I know that God wants us to have hopes in and for this life, but, for the Christian, those hopes must be secondary to our heavenly hope. Our heavenly hope must govern our earthly hopes. This is the only formula that leads to the “Abundant life” that the Bible talks about. If Jesus is not the Christian’s primary hope, he or she will have a really difficult time when (not if) a trial comes. Even when everything is going great (by the world’s standards), the Christian that does not have his or her hopes in order will not be experiencing the inner joy and peace that the Bible tells us we should have.
Unfortunately I speak from experience. If asked, I probably would have said that eternity was my primary hope before being diagnosed with ALS, but 
looking back now I really don’t think it was. It’s so easy to get caught up in our career, our marriage, raising kids, our homes and so many other things involved in day-to-day life that, without even realizing it, our earthly hopes and dreams can become our primary focus.
In this context, I think it’s fair to say that hope and love are synonymous. If Christ isn’t our primary hope, He is not what the Bible calls “our first (most important) love” either. I remember when I began reading the Bible, I had a real hard time with the following verse: “He who loves father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me; and he who loves son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me.” (Matthew 10:37)
Probably because I didn’t understand Christ’s nature at that time, His demand seemed harsh and even narcissistic. After reading the whole New Testament and getting a better understanding of His selfless nature, I realized that His demand had nothing to do with harshness or ego; it is a simple matter of priorities. It’s only by loving Christ more than anyone or anything that we are able to demonstrate His unconditional love to and for others. Likewise, it’s only when Christ is our greatest hope that we are able to fully appreciate and enjoy our earthly hopes. And, it’s only when Christ is our primary hope that we will know if our secondary hopes are also God’s hopes for us.
Pacing Your Productivity
Our 24 year old daughter, Lauren, is a blogger too; she posts with a group of women at http://sozowomen.com/. I thought I would share her latest post with you.
I have an addiction. It causes me to be on an emotional and energetic high, but when it is all said and done, at the end of the day, I am left exhausted and sitting in a big heap of unrest and heaviness. It’s an addiction that comes in all forms, to all personalities, and all life stages. For me, it has looked different in every season of life but somehow leaves me with the same end results. Ok, I’ll just say it: I am addicted to productivity. I am addicted to my to-do list, in how much and how well I can accomplish, do, create, become.
“That’s a great thing to be addicted to,” I hear others, “at least you get things done!” Well, no, I have realized that although productivity gives me a buzz in the moment, I can’t seek God at the same time. This is where the challenge lies. As I quiet my soul and take my mind off “to-doing”, I find a complete indirect correlation between my productivity addiction and those infamous words that Jesus whispers in my ear. They creep up in my heart and strike a chord—comforting, yet painful.
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
-Matthew 11:28-30, ESV
Don’t get me wrong, productivity is good. God loves it (have you read Proverbs 31, yikes!), but when it pulls us away from resting in Him, stealing our peace, we labor (toil, strive) and are heavy laden (burdened, weary). As I read those few verses above, I want to scream, “That’s me! He came for me! He understands!” He came for the weak, the heavy hearted, the one who doesn’t necessarily know how to “find” Him.
We are all on a journey to learn how to constantly hold Jesus’ hand as we walk throughout each day, to find Him in the secret place, to be whole and complete in Him. Would you join me on this journey? I am going to use these 3 practicals to help me along:
- Slow Down.
- Pray over your to-do list and what the day holds.
- Every time you find yourself focusing on all you need “to do” or heavy situations in life, refocus your mind on Jesus and maybe find a verse (or this one above) to hold on to.
In what ways do you find yourself losing peace? In what ways do you learn to find peace in the midst of labor and busyness?
I’m thinking Lauren will get some help overcoming productivity when the baby arrives.
One Day At A Time
At the beginning of this trial, so many people, mostly long-time Christians, would advise me to “Just take one day at a time.” I’m sure that every one of these wise people thought they were the first to give me this sage advice. Of course, I always acted as if they were the first to give me that advice and I politely thanked them. (If you are one of those that offered me this advice 16+ years ago, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that a hundred people already gave me that same advice).
To be honest, even though a hundred people repeated this “Take one day at a time” cliché to me, I really didn’t understand at that time exactly what it meant. Like so many clichés, I think people throw them out to fill dead air space in awkward moments when they have nothing else to say. But, I now know this advice is much more than a wise-sounding cliché and the title of an old Southern Gospel song; I discovered it’s also a Biblical principle.
Let me explain how I came to this conclusion.
The Christian going through a trial will quickly figure out something they wish that they’d known all along—today is all that we can properly manage or were meant to manage. Agonizing over our yesterdays and worrying about our tomorrows is just too great of a burden to carry; it will literally overwhelm us emotionally, spiritually and even physically.
In chapter sixteen of the book of Exodus, while in the wilderness (a Biblical metaphor of a trial), God fed the children of Israel with Manna. Jesus said that Manna was “bread that came down out of heaven.” This bread had a very short expiration date; it was only good for that day. If you attempted to put it in a Ziploc bag to save it for the following day, as some tried to do, it would spoil and you’d find maggots crawling on it. God was trying to teach them to trust Him only for today—yesterday’s “bread” is useless (unless you like maggot protein) and tomorrow’s bread hasn’t yet been delivered.
“Give us this day our daily bread.” (Matthew 6:11)
The Old Testament uses “types and shadows” of things to come when the Messiah arrived. As Jesus said; “Do not think that I came to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I did not come to abolish but to fulfill.” (Matthew 5:17)
Manna was a type and shadow of Jesus; He’s our daily bread—our spiritual sustenance; “I am the bread of life. Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died…I am the living bread that came down out of heaven; if anyone eats of this bread, he will live forever; and the bread also which I will give for the life of the world is My flesh.” (John 6:48-51)
In a very real sense, the life of faith in Christ is only about today; we’re told to forget about yesterday and not to worry about tomorrow:
“…one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and reaching forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:13-14)
[Between these two passages is a day we call “today.”]
“So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (Matthew 6:34)
I believe that we should do everything within our power to resolve our past (asking God and those we’ve wronged for forgiveness, paying our debts, etc.) and to plan for our future. But I don’t believe that God designed us to carry guilt from our past or to worry about our futures. Christ suffered and died to offer us forgiveness of our past and to secure our eternal futures in heaven. Knowing this puts our earthly troubles in perspective. We can live in peace, joy and hope one day at a time because: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.” (Hebrews 13:8)
This I recall to my mind, therefore I have hope. It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. (Like Manna) They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness. (Lamentations 3:21-23)
Learning To Empathize
As I begin typing this post, Ann, one of Mary’s oldest and closest friends, is having surgery to remove cancer from her body. Later she’ll have to go through radiation and chemotherapy treatments. In faith we are praying and believing that, like my friend Dabney in my last post, this friend will fully recover—she “will not die, but live, And tell of the works of the LORD.” (Psalm 118:17)
Ann is a great example of a Christian that demonstrates true empathy. She doesn’t merely feel sympathy for those going through difficult times; she walks through the difficult time with them. One of the many ways that she demonstrates empathy is by cooking and delivering meals to fellow church members, friends and family that are ill or otherwise going through difficult times.
What’s the difference between empathy and sympathy?
To feel for the person going through a trial is sympathy. To feel with a person going through a trial is empathy. Sympathy is merely a feeling that may or may not result in productive action. And, as in the case of giving money to an addict for instance, sympathy can result in actions that are counter-productive.
I think most people are born with a capacity to feel sympathy, but I believe that empathy, in the Christian sense of the word, is something we learn through the humbling effects that come through life’s many challenges and difficult trials.
“I do not ask the wounded person how he feels; I myself become the wounded person.”
Walt Whitman
Before being diagnosed with ALS almost seventeen years ago, I was one of those that thought empathy and sympathy were basically synonymous, just like the thesaurus tells us they are. But, through the humbling of this trial and through people showing us genuine Christ-like empathy, I now know the difference between sympathy and empathy. (It’s been a tough grammar lesson).
“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin.” (Hebrews 4:15)
As I said, from a Christian viewpoint, I no longer believe that empathy and sympathy are synonymous. But I found another word that I believe should be a synonym for empathy—Grace. When I began thinking about writing a post on empathy, I was trying to think of Biblical examples (of empathy) that I could use. Before even opening my Bible program to start searching, example after example began flooding my mind; so many examples that I had to quickly open a Word document to type them out before I forgot.
I guess I never saw it this way before, but the New Testament is a book about empathy; Jesus came to demonstrate God’s empathy for man and to teach us how to empathize with one another. His mission of empathy can be summed-up by two of the most well-known verses; John 3:16 (“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.”), which demonstrates God’s love and empathy for man, and the so-called “Golden Rule” (“…treat people the same way you want them to treat you…” Matthew 7:12), which tells us to empathize with one another.
But Jesus knew that the best way to teach, especially to children and to a simpleton like me, is through telling stories; no story teaches empathy better than the Parable of The Good Samaritan:
“A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell among robbers, and they stripped him and beat him, and went away leaving him half dead. And by chance a priest was going down on that road, and when he saw him, he passed by on the other side. Likewise a Levite also, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, who was on a journey, came upon him; and when he saw him, he felt compassion, and came to him and bandaged up his wounds, pouring oil and wine on them; and he put him on his own beast, and brought him to an inn and took care of him. On the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper and said, “Take care of him; and whatever more you spend, when I return I will repay you.”
Which of these three do you think proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell into the robbers’ hands? And he said, “The one who showed mercy toward him.” Then Jesus said to him, “Go and do the same.” (Luke 10:30-37)
Obviously we don’t know what was in the minds of the two men who saw this “half dead” man and purposely avoided him. I have to assume that even these self-righteous religious leaders felt some sympathy for the poor guy, but only the Samaritan felt and acted on empathy.
Compassion is empathy in action; sympathy is merely a feeling.
“No one cares how much you know, until they know how much you care”
Theodore Roosevelt
When God Intervenes
Before having ALS, I would have thought that it would be the big effects of this disease that cause the most frustration—things like not being able to walk and talk. But it’s losing your ability to do simple things, things you once did with little or no effort, that cause the most frustration. Imagine having an itch you can’t scratch or having a mosquito biting the back of your hand and all you can do is sit and watch as it becomes fat with your blood, leaving another itch you can’t scratch.
Being confined to a wheelchair and not being able to speak would be more bearable if I was able to read books, but even that once-simple pleasure is now impossible. I was especially frustrated with my inability to hold a book and turn its pages when I received a copy of a book titled “When God Intervenes” in the mail two weeks ago. This book was written by a friend named Dabney Hedegard, and I had been looking forward to reading it since she told me about it several months ago. Fortunately, Mary had also been looking forward to reading it so she volunteered to read it to me.
The reason I used the example of not being able to scratch an itch is because the book begins with Dabney visiting doctor after doctor and having test after test to determine what was causing the constant itching all over her body. (I began to itch just thinking about it). Every doctor said or inferred that Dabney was a Hypochondriac. She would soon prove all of those doctors wrong, the hard way!
Dabney endured the constant itching and the sleeplessness that came along with it for five tortuous months. Then, as Dabney retells it in the book, something happened that, by comparison, made her constant itching and the exhaustion seem like a minor annoyance: “I propped my feet on the couch and scratched across my belly, trying to chase away the tickles. In the silence of my apartment, I tried to nap. But my midmorning indigestion had progressed into a heavy weight against my lungs. The roll of fruit-flavored TUMS refused to calm the pressure. Then it happened. One gasp followed by strained constriction— as if someone had popped my lung. I banged my fist to my chest to pound out some relief. Nothing. Sitting up straighter, straighter, I struggled to suck in air. “I c-can’t breathe…”
Dabney’s husband, Jason, rushed her to the ER where doctors discovered a football-sized tumor in her chest; it was Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. In some cases, for some unknown reason, this type of cancer can cause the itching that she was experiencing. To complicate matters and add to the drama of this miraculous story, Dabney was six weeks pregnant with their first child.
This was the start of what would become a ten year trial; a decade of Jason and Dabney having their faith repeatedly tested and God intervening time after time with miracle after miracle. A ten year trial that included four near-death experiences and twice doctors telling Jason, “She’ll never make it through the night.”
“…we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint…” (Romans 5:3-5)
The above passage came to my mind when I read what Dabney said this book was about: “This story is about an ordinary girl in search of hope.” Mary and I saw that passage unfold in Dabney and Jason while reading “When God Intervenes.” This “ordinary girl” finds the hope that she was in search of and is now giving that hope to others through her public speaking engagements, her blog and now through this inspiring new book.
And no, I’m not recommending When God Intervenes just because Dabney flattered me by including a quote from one of my blog posts in the book. I’m recommending this book because reading it encouraged us and increased our faith and hope and I know it will do so for you also.
To order When God Intervenes, click here.
Unshakable Hope 