Remain.

I have a question. It has to be purely rhetorical, because no one can answer it until heaven. But do you think that Jesus, when the crowd yelled "If you're the Christ, make yourself come down!" was tempted to do just that?

Well, obviously yes, that would be tempting. In that amount of pain, resisting that temptation would have been almost impossible. Almost. But that's not really what I meant when I asked that question. This verse came up in a sermon, and I thought, "If someone said, do (x), so I know God is real," and it was in my power to do so, I would probably take them up on it, with the motive of showing them God.

Was Jesus tempted to come down so that they would believe? We won't know until heaven, I suppose, but if He was, what kept Him there?

I think it was His trust in His Father and His love for us. His knowledge of what was needed for redemption and His trust in His Father were bigger than His need to prove Himself to that crowd. Which is saying a lot, considering the humiliation He had been through.

How does that apply to me? When someone is taunting me to prove myself, do I stop to think if this is God's plan? Am I willing to appear as though I've lost the argument because I ultimately know that God's plans are bigger?

There is a story I heard once about a missionary who served in Haiti (if my memory serves me correctly). He had done good work in his village, had an impact on the people, but one day the village witch doctor came out to challenge him. Through the power of the demonic realm, this man was able to levitate off of the ground, putting all of the watching villages into a state again of fear. The witch doctor challenged the missionary, asking if his God could equal that power.

The missionary prayed quietly. "What do I do?" In his head, he envisioned a grand display, perhaps a flying demonstration with a few loop-de-loops thrown in! Instead, God whispered, "You just command them - 'drop him.' " And the witch doctor fell to the ground.

Sometimes the most effective way to show God's power is to be light in the dark places. Not to be a display but to be a presence  To be a mirror that reflects the heart of God's love. That is what Jesus did on that cross. He didn't put on a display, but He was the epitome of God's love for us. And ultimately that reconciled the entire world unto Himself, a much more powerful thing than if He had demonstrated His power to remove Himself from the cross.

As someone who has received that grace, and ought to every day be grateful beyond words for Him staying on the cross and enduring that pain, can I make those same decisions? To remain in the dark places, to swallow my desire to prove God through loop-de-loops, and to simply be His light, whether that be loud or quiet, by action or by simply remaining?

Sometimes remaining is harder than doing. Doing requires courage too, but I think I still have a harder time when God says, "Sarah, be still. Wait. Remain. Stop trying to do and just be." I'm not good at that. It links back to the whole identity thing in my last post.

In a situation of spiritual warfare, of brokenness and darkness, it is hard to just be and to let the love of Christ shine through you without running away or wanting to fix it your way with 'doing.' However, a candle doesn't need to do anything to combat the darkness; it just is. It exists. It allows its nature to come forth. This is what God calls us to do - allow our nature, the new nature He has given us of His love and His mercy, shine forth. And the darkness has no choice but to retreat.

Ephesians 6:13 - "Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand."

John 15:4 "Remain in me and I will remain in you."

Masks.

Identity is a strange thing. Masks are a strange concept. We humans are so weird.

God gives us grace - freely, wonderfully, abundantly - and still we strive and strive to earn it. Why on earth do we do that? I started thinking about this based on a book I'm reading. The premise is that we (meaning specifically Christian woman raised in church, although others struggle with this as well) have been trained with this image, this expectation, of how we should act and who we should be. Strong, but feminine. The perfect homemaker. The ideal wife. The awesome mom. The great student. The best worker. On and on the list continues. This book talks about peace ruling, like an umpire. About not wearing masks of having to do it all and be it all. "Do less and be more." Some of those lines seem to have been written specifically for me.

I wrestled with that for a bit, still searching to identify how this would change me. I asked God where I should start reading in my Bible. Answer? Galatians  Well, the first chapter has this verse in it: "Am I now trying to win the approval of human beings, or of God? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ."

So we are back to the question.. "Sarah, why are you trying to do everything, do it perfectly, without even stressing (or looking like it anyway)?"

Am I truly getting an aspect of my identity from the fact that people see me as reliable, responsible, the go-to girl to get stuff done, she-can-do-everything? I thought about this question a bit last semester, but maybe I should have thought about it more. I kinda think that this might be why I've been down lately. I know God wants me to let go of this. But it's HARD. The image that comes to mind is myself as an ice sculpture. God has the little anvil and hammer, and it's a piece that He needs to take off so that I look like Him, like I'm supposed to. Right now the sculpture isn't complete, because there is this chunk of ice hanging off me, weighing me down, but foolishly, I like it there - it is comfortable. I'm used to it.

As I was thinking about this, I thought about Martha and Mary in the Bible. I'd had a conversation recently with some friends about it, and how Martha didn't seem all that bad - hospitality is good, right? Then we reread it and realized her heart wasn't right. She was worried, not trusting.

I've wavered a few times over whether I was a Martha or a Mary. Well, in this thought process of today, I realized. My heart would be Mary - I would love to be sitting at Jesus' feet, listening, learning, loving. But - and it's a big but - as soon as Martha came out with food, I would be compelled to help, not because I felt compassion for hungry guests, but because if I stayed seated, Martha looked liked the perfect hostess and I looked like a slacker. Martha was good and being a servant - being the perfect Christian girl, acting like we are 'supposed to' - while I just sat there? Nope, couldn't let it happen. I would have been up and helping to protect that precious block of ice still attached to my identity. I would have done what I thought was my duty, my responsibility. I would have been the Mary with the wrong heart. Worried, not trusting.

This was not a comfortable revelation for me (tangent: is there any such thing as a comfortable revelation?). When put in context of that story  I could see clearly that it wasn't right. But now what? How do I let Jesus chip away that extra chunk of ice that has been part of me for so long?

Surrender.

Hello, my name is...

Hello. My name is Sarah and I am new blogger.

I don't really know where to start or how to start, but I guess since this is my blog and I doubt many people will read it, it doesn't make much of a difference! That thought is a little freeing actually. I started this because I end up writing my thoughts down anyway, and I thought maybe blogging would give me a sort of structure (as opposed to the current system of random word documents, sticky notes, and scrap pieces of paper).

A little bit about me and this blog... I'm from a family of 8, I grew up on a dairy farm, and I'm in my fourth year of obtaining B.A. and B.Ed. degrees. I love children, have a passion for education, and a passion for people in general. Relationships with those around me are really important to me, but my relationship with my Father in heaven is most important to me.

I named this blog "Brokenness Aside" based off of a song by All Sons and Daughters. The chorus goes like this:
"I am a sinner,
If it's not one thing it's another,
Caught up in words,
Tangled in lies.
You are a Saviour,
And you take Brokenness Aside,
And make it beautiful,
Beautiful."

I was a sinner; I was and am saved by grace, completely undeserved. For some reason, God loves me and saved me. But sometimes that sin catches up with me and I fall.

Something God is always showing me is that He picks us back up again and we grow. He is our Saviour who takes brokenness aside and makes it beautiful. This is what drives life, in all of its paradox and brokenness and beauty.