Why I Choose to not Burn The Shack Up or Down

Faith is a Journey

As a writer, I know how difficult it is to write from my Christian worldview—from a faith that is ever growing in truth and grace.

As a Christian, I know how hard we can be on one another.

As a Caring for the Heart coach, I know how damaging emotional pain is to our ability to give and receive love, even the perfect love of our Triune God. When someone touches our pain, we react.

Those three perspectives motivate my thoughts.

In deciding whether to enter the fray over the merits/demerits of William Paul Young’s novel The Shack and the recently released movie The Shack Official Movie Trailer, I wondered if anything I had to say could enhance the discussion. I don’t like controversy, but I do enjoy an amicable debate. Most of what I’ve seen written surrounding the movie’s release qualifies as highly contentious in my book—though I admit my meter tends to run on the sensitive side.

I almost kept silent on this one. The ruckus is just too loud for my liking. I don’t like name calling. I don’t want to be called names. So can we agree to not do that here?

I’ve read Young’s book more than once and went to see the movie on opening weekend. I’ve read many of the reviews written by the pros and my Facebook friends. I’d say if I took a poll, it’s about a 50/50 split. Both sides adamant they are right.

But then I heard Paul Young tell his own story. Those who know me know I love to hear personal stories and love them even more if the storyteller includes God’s activity in the story. I don’t ordinarily watch TBN, but tuned in when I saw that Paul Young would be telling the story behind The Shack. Restoring the Shack  

As Mr. Young spoke, I tried to understand his heart. I listened to him relate his story of childhood sexual abuse and spiritual abuse as a son of missionaries. My Caring for the Heart training and experience heightens my awareness of how what happened to us as children influences our relationships as adults—with our spouse, our children, and especially our God.

Young acknowledged being the victim as a child; I can respect that. But he didn’t stop there. He continued by confessing his own sinful behavior as an adult and the explanation of his process of repentance and reconciliation. He was clear to point out that he had been the perpetrator; I respect that. I listened to his heart yearning for redemption of the pain from his past.

I will not condemn this man, his work of fiction, or the resulting movie. What I see is a man who is trying to explore difficult topics, sharing with others how God met him where he was and loved him through the hard places. I can’t cast the first stone, because I walk this same path. Sometimes failing. Other times succeeding. Nonetheless, walking with my God who is forever faithful in helping His children unlearn the lies we have believed and teaching us His truth.

It is my prayer that the Lord will use the message of The Shack to start dialogues with Him in the midst. He is perfectly capable of correcting any misconceptions. Mine. Yours. We don’t have to defend God, but we do need to allow space for Him to speak. And for us to listen.

I want to be a part of the healing conversations. How about you? Can we agree to not use words as weapons?

Starting a new chapter...

A clean sheet of paper can be refreshing...and intimidating to an author. A fresh start and a clean slate represent so many possibilities and the freedom to imagine. New chapters are especially exciting when the previous one has been filled with plot twists, suspense, and conflict. Perhaps the new chapter will bring resolution. However, new chapters can also be accompanied by a heap of uncertainty. So many plot possibilites with so many options for endings.

I didn't do much writing last year. I had big plans and possible opportunities that were forced to the bottom of my to-do list and replaced by visits to the doctors' offices, hospital rooms, and funeral pews.

You see, I have this series of novels I plan to write. They are still in my brain, waiting for my fingers to unleash them onto the page. I think about them often. I have outlines and charts and timelines with story ideas galore. Funny thing. Many of my ideas seem to have hopped off of the storyboard and into my life since I jotted them down.

People have suggested I need to stop brainstorming so that that trend stops. My first inclination was to agree. Then I began to think, maybe God was requiring me to live the thing out before I write the things down. (Slightly more comforting than jinxing myself.) And then the other day as I was considering all of this, a new thought came to me.

We were right in the middle of one of my plot scenarios--in a hospital room talking to a doctor about possible causes of some odd symptoms. I began asking questions that were very good. Good because I had spent some time researching this exact thing for one of my characters.

That's when the thought hit me: Could it be that the topics for my novels are part of a bigger story. A personal story. A story written by Someone Else. Maybe I didn't invite the circumstances by listing them, but that God was preparing me for what He knew was going to be part of my story.

Life brings new chapters complete with options and angst.

My life last year was one of those chapters that held many twists and sorrows. Relocation, illness, death,  absence, and uncertainty all made appearances on my pages.

The final page of 2012 has been turned and 2013 is just beginning to reveal itself. Another relocation is on the horizon. Sunny Florida in January looks appealing as I gaze out of my bay window at a snow-frosted Michigan lawn. But I am not the author of my own story. I don't control my own circumstances, just my responses. Life happens and fortunately the Author of the Ages continues to write.

Tetter Totter Theory

I've been thinking about teeter totters. They used to be on every playground when I was growing up. I'm sure we had some at Flat Rock Elementary. We even had a maypole. If you are not familiar with those, it was simply a pole with handle bars on the end of chain links. We would race out to get one of the coveted handles, then run around the pole, holding on for dear life, and become a human tetherball. If it sounds dangerous, it's because it was!

However, I not only survived, but even enjoyed the playground and have been spending some time thinking about teeter totters. Finding a teeter totter to photograph for this blog entry was hard. Almost as hard as trying to find the words to express the purpose of the entry.

I've been thinking about teeter totters recently because I have been yearning for some balance and this piece of playground equipment seems to best illustrate what I am trying to describe.

I want to live a life that is balanced and I think God desires that for me as well. When I look at His creation, I see that balance is required. My flowers need water. Too much water and they rot; too little water and they wilt. Our bodies need food. Too much and we are obese; too little and we are malnourished.  Unfortunately, we live in a world that doesn't make balancing easy.

Could it be that although balance is required for physical health, our soul desires the extreme. Could it even be that God created us to crave the extreme? Consider this paradox: God created us to yearn for extremes yet requires us to live in balance. Does that sound downright cruel to anyone?

Yet, I know He is not cruel; I know He is kind. And knowing this has made me ponder this paradox. And that is why I have been contemplating teeter totters and here is what I've been thinking...

I know that my God does not create and require without also equipping.

And this is where the teeter totter comes into the picture. God is three-in-one: Father, Son, and Spirit. And although there are many faults with this analogy and my majestic, wonderful, powerful, loving LORD cannot be summed up in a mere piece of playground equipment, it has helped my feeble mind to picture the trinity functioning the same way as a teeter totter.

 One function with three distinct features

that equip me to satisfy my craving for extremes

while maintaining a healthy balance.

Let's look at the teeter tooter: a plank with seats on opposite ends with a middle support that serves as the fulcrum. If the weight on both ends is equal, the plank will be balanced.

I desire balance.

Which left me with this question,

"Where do I fit into this picture?"

I believe God invites me to stand on His balance.

He is my fulcrum and my extremes.

Anyway, that's my theory.

Believin' and Receivin'

Don't even try to suggest to me that my God is uncaring or distant...I would have to politely but plainly inform you that you are dead wrong.

If, by chance, you do perceive Him as distant or even non-existent, would you allow me to introduce you to my YHWH Shammah, my Immanuel? My God who is a "here" and "near" reality. A "with us" God.

I have multiple stories I could tell you as evidence of my belief.  Some of those stories have already been told in my previous entries.  A couple of them involve diminutive dimes showing up in the oddest places at just the right times.

Well, here's one more dime story...

On Friday afternoons, after a week crammed full of classes and volunteering in the community, a group of girls gathers in a campus apartment for a couple hours of Bible study.  Amazingly, they have given me the honor of joining them in their journey.

Beth Moore has heaped on the homework, challenged us to lace up our hiking boots, and encouraged us to believe God to be bigger than we currently perceive Him to be.  Each week we dig deep into His Word to find out what He has to say about who He is and who we are.

This past week was one of believing God can do what He says He can do.  Beth invited us to believe that because His Word says so, we can  believe Him to do mighty things in our present age. She showed us faith pleases our God. She encouraged us to ask!

But she didn't stop there. She also dealt with the tough question of "What if I asked?  What if I believed? And I didn't get my miracle." Here is what she said:

Blessed are you if you are not offended with me. Matt11:6

O God, grant us a faith to be healed and a faith to be delivered but, above all, a faith to trust.  Beth Moore

Beloved, our God is a God of wonders.  Will we not ask because we are afraid of being offended? Embarrassed? Disappointed? Or will we ask, knowing that He is able but trusting that He is good if He doesn't act? Blessed are we if we are not offended with Jesus.

I told some stories then of how I had seen God work miracles in my life and people that I know: supernatural protection, restored eyesight, freedom from addictions. Stories of God's supremacy.  I also shared times when God showed His sufficiency.

My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. 2Cor12:9

Then I told them how God reminds me "I am aware. I care." by placing dimes in my path and proceeded to play the DVD lesson for the day.

One slight problem...we couldn't find the remote control!

Let me remind you that we are in a college apartment shared by four females.  I remember all to well what my college dorm looked like and there were just two of us! Got the picture?

So we began the search for the control. Pillows and clothes were upended. Suggestions were tossed out: "Look in the refrigerator."  I kid you not!

Then..

"I found a dime."

Katie was holding a couch cushion in one hand and a dime in the other.

Katie, who had asked us all to pray for her last week. Katie who is currently believin' but not seein'. Was now receivin' a reminder that God is aware. He does care.

That's my God! He is good. You can trust Him.

I have a shovel...

Metter, Georgia.  I lived in Georgia for five years and didn't really know where it was exactly.  I knew when I drove from Savannah to Indiana, that before reaching Macon I passed a sign that pointed to Metter.  But I had never been there.  Yet after we moved to Iowa, I was drawn to Metter.  After one of our return trips to visit family in southern Georgia, we specifically planned our trip to include a brief stop there.

Why?  Because I wanted to visit the Guido Gardens.  Michael Guido's story intrigued me and inspired me.  He has a prospering ministry in the little rural town of Metter and I wanted to see it for myself.  I knew of him because of his radio ministry and his "Seeds from the Sower" broadcasts. 

But when I visited the gardens, I found out that it was much more.  Their ministry has a wide variety of media components.  In addition to radio, they also have TV, print, and internet capabilities. They have educational programs to train others to spread the good news of the gospel. It has a worldwide outreach. 

I have heard many wonderful truths from the message seeds planted by this sower.  But the message that drew me to the gardens that day was one not publicized by the Guido media, but one I had heard when Michael Guido and his wife were interviewed.  The reporter asked the Guidos how they managed to build the expensive equipment-filled studios and their beautiful garden.  That answer is what drew me to Metter.
The answer to that question appears on their website as follows:

At the start of their ministry, Dr. and Mrs. Guido committed themselves to rely exclusively on God for all of their needs; never asking for money or selling items to raise it.

Dr. Guido went on to explain that when they had a need, any need, big or small, they would post it on a bulletin board and the staff would pray for it.  If they needed a shovel, they asked God to provide a shovel.  The stories of how God provided blew me away!  After posting and praying for the needed item, someone would contact them wanting to donate that particular item.  "I have a shovel..."

God, help me be that kind of person.

Safe

I have this beautiful antique rocking chair. Salvaged from a loft over our garage. Stripped down and refinished by the skillful and loving hands of my grandparents. It was love at first sight for me and I was a preschooler when we found it.

Each time we have moved--and we have moved around a lot--we take the chair with us. Other treasures would get stored away, but the chair was always given a place to rest in a room, usually tucked snugly into a corner of my study. Reserved for special times. Reflective times. Insecure times. Times when I was in need of special comforting.

This move was different. We moved in June and our new baby was due in August. My daughter was the one who was pregnant, but we were expecting a baby! So, when we moved, I placed the rocker in the corner of the master bedroom, awaiting the arrival of our first grandchild and for the rocker to serve the purpose it was created for.

August arrived and so did our granddaughter. Perfect and precious and loved beyond measure. But even perfect and precious babies have problems falling asleep sometimes, and one evening she was particularly agitated. I decided to retire to my bedroom and rock her in my special chair.

I cradled her to my chest and sat in my beloved chair. CRASH! My world came tumbling down swiftly, noisily, and without a single warning. I could not keep us from falling. What I had been relying on for support was in pieces beneath me.

And the bundle in my arms? Still in my arms. Still gazing up at me with wide, wakeful eyes. Unfazed by the splintered remains around us. Unfazed by the vicious corner of the dresser we had miraculously avoided on our way to the floor. Her focus was on the one who held her...not on the circumstances surrounding her.

Not only is she precious and perfect! She is also wise!! Where is my focus when circumstances are crashing and crumbling all around me? Am I frantically scanning the horizon for jagged corners and splintered remains? Or is my gaze locked onto the One who is holding me in His loving embrace?

Let me live forever in Your sanctuary, safe beneath the shelter
of your wings. Psalm 61:4 NLT