Traveling with a group of my closest friends over the last several years had always been restorative. Relaxing. Outrageously fun. But now it had taken on additional layers. Somehow drama and dysfunction had been introduced into the mix this time around, a complication that had never been a part of any previous experience.
everystockphoto.com
Looked at through a particular lens, you could say it made us more like a family. After all, families are imperfect, right? And it doesn’t mean we don’t love each other. (I rather prefer that view.)
It started with a minor misunderstanding that morphed into hurt feelings and doubts about motives. Tears. Words. Then hugs. Forgiveness.
Maybe it’s just me, but it seems our “good intentions” department is a little low on inventory these days.
Looking around, civility appears a little thin. Chivalry – despite those who like to say it isn’t dead – is fighting for a good, deep breath. And sympathy? Sympathy is struggling to stay afloat.
I’m just not sure we’re as nice as we could be any more. Has it become acceptable to get by with the minimum, to be happy with a half-hearted effort, the “old college try”? Are we too closed off emotionally? Too busy? Just tired?
We were somewhere in the Western Caribbean between Jamaica and the Cayman Islands when I first met Erica McNeal. A group of about 100 of us were considering how to best use the communication gifts God had given us and we were doing it while enjoying the beauty of His creation on a cruise for “Christian Creatives”. Not a bad gig.
It was formal dinner night and Erica sat down at the same table as me. She was vivacious and friendly, a genuine “people person” with a winsome smile and that way of focusing on your face when you talk that makes you feel she is truly interested in what you have to say. That’s a gift I wish I had.
When she told me she was writing a book to help people see the grief process as healthy and natural, I was a little surprised. I mean, that’s kind of heavy, right? Then she said she wanted to give people practical ways to respond to their grieving friends and loved ones, and I was skeptical. After all, that’s a pretty tall order for one so young and lively. What could she possibly know about pain that cut so deep it required a guidebook to navigate?
Then she told me a little of her story:
“By the time I was thirty-two years old, I had already suffered through radiation treatments and nearly died from chemo to beat cancer three times. I had made life and death decisions about my tiny baby girl born at twenty-two-and-a-half weeks gestation and lost her only 80 minutes after she was born. And after falling in love, I handed a child I believed in my soul was meant to be my son, back to his birth mother when she decided to revoke his adoption plan.”
What she said next really stunned me, but then it made perfect sense:
“The reality is: the worst pain in life doesn’t always come from illness, child-loss, death, or even grief itself. Often, the greatest obstacles to overcome are the unintended hurt caused by painful words spoken and things done or not done by those in our support system that care for us.”
She knew what people said to her and her husband, often in a well-meaning way, that had stunted their recovery process and wanted to spare others that pain. She wanted to share specific encouragement and alternative approaches that would be so much more helpful.
Erica challenges the way Christians sometimes view 1 Corinthians 10:13 – that God will not give us more than we can handle. Her experience is that God will allow us to be stretched beyond our human capabilities in order to show us our need for Him.
If you’ve ever wondered what to say (or not say) to someone who is grieving, what tangible ways you can help and support them, how to specifically pray, even how to recognize warning signs that they may be succumbing to depression, it’s all in this book. She also outlines a process she calls “breaking it down”, where she gives an example of how to use the Bible as a road map for lowering anxiety and stress, a simple but very effective exercise that has application to other areas of life.
As Erica says, “Learn from the triumphs and tragedies of others. Life is too short to experience everything yourself.” This book will help you do that. It is convicting but never condemning, enlightening but never trite.
Giveaways
As part of her launch this week, Erica has some great giveaways. If you purchase a copy of Good Grief between June 11th – 16th at http://amzn.to/goodgrieflaunch and send your receipt to goodgriefgifts@gmail.com, you’ll have a chance to win free books, gift cards, podcasts, study guides and more. Go to Erica’s website at www.ericamcneal.com for details. And be sure to follow Erica on Twitter: @toddanderica .
Let’s be honest. If I wanted to hide, I wouldn’t stick a hundred hedge clippers in the ground and crouch behind them, I’d find a cave or a big rock and hunker down. If I wanted to protect my skull from fracture, I wouldn’t duct tape a bunch of putty knives to my scalp, I’d get a helmet.
Just like it makes no sense to use hedge clippers as a wall or putty knives as a hat, it makes no sense to reduce my prayers to a defensive tactic – a flurry of words to ward off doom – when they are intended to be a powerful connection with an Almighty God.
Sadly, I do this regularly.
Here’s an example: My daughter was having surgery one day last week and I asked everyone I could think of to pray for her. Neither her life nor her long term health was in danger, but you wouldn’t have known it by the way I was storming the gates of Heaven with my petitions. I was cowering before God, asking Him to protect her, calm her, make her recovery swift and complete. And I guess I was hoping that if enough people joined in and echoed my concerns, the numbers might impress Him and He might decide to act. Have you ever done that?
After the surgery, she was in pain for days and the only time I felt I could relax and not worry about her was NOT when I was praying – which would have been the good Christian approach – but when the doctor was with her and reassuring me she was healing just fine. I had faith that she was safe in the hands of the doctor but apparently I didn’t rest in the knowledge that she was even safer in the arms of the Great Physician.
I pray and pray about things, fearing that if I stop, things will get worse. It’s as if deep down, I don’t think I’m really going to get a positive answer from God; I’m just trying to hold disaster at bay. Do I think my volley of words-words-words can do that?
I frantically keep it up, repeating the same requests over and over. If I were of another faith tradition, I might be lighting candles, chanting mantras, or flailing myself with a stick. And I would be no more successful in personally controlling the outcome than if I said or did nothing.
My lack of faith astounds me. And even worse is the way my actions insult God by implying He isn’t good; that He can’t be trusted.
We use the term “prayer warrior”, because our prayers are an offensive weapon – against evil, apathy, and pain. Our prayers can DO something, not just KEEP something from happening.
I want to be humble in my prayers, accepting that the outcome of all I pray for is ultimately in God’s hands and that He is good. But I don’t want to be shrinking and sobbing, fearing the worst. I devalue my own prayers when I do that; I want to be confident that God is trustworthy.
I don’t think I’m alone in this dilemma, am I?
Every Friday I have a standing phone “date” with my Dad, always my go-to spiritual resource and mentor. I asked him what he thought about this . . . this apparent lack of faith, this weakness of mine. You know what he told me?
“Honey, the Devil can’t take away your eternal salvation- that is assured – but he can mess with your witness and make you miserable. He can make you doubt and worry and take your focus off God. That’s when you run into problems like this. Just keep your eyes on God. He’s always glad to hear from you, even when you’re wringing your hands. I’m sure He just wishes you wouldn’t worry about things He already has under control.”
That’s the key. Stop letting the Enemy get me in a ditch with his foot on my neck. Keep my focus on God, not on myself or my need to control things. Remember that my prayers are a strong connection to the One who has already won the battle and longs to comfort me, not a desperate deflecting tactic from a position of weakness. I have no reason to be fatalistic when I have all of Heaven on my side.
Can you relate to this? Feel free to weigh in with your comments below.
Have you thought about how you came to have (or not have) faith? Where and how your traditions and the things you believe about God were formed? What formed the basis for your personal beliefs as an adult?
Many of my friends come from faith backgrounds very different from mine and I am always fascinated to hear how they came to embrace the beliefs they now have. Sadly, some have specifically rejected the idea of “religion” altogether and have gone their own way. Theirs are interesting, if wrenching, stories, too.
For me faith took root in my family, specifically the Christian upbringing I was afforded by my parents. Generations before me believed in God and in the divinity and sacrifice of Jesus to redeem humanity from sin. Those beliefs were incorporated into our daily routine and the rhythm of life in general.
We prayed before meals. It seemed we went to church every time the doors were opened (my Dad was – and still is – a pastor, at the age of 89). Everyone in our family had their own Bible (the King James Version, naturally!) We studied and memorized Scripture passages, many of which come to mind now when I need them most.
Our family’s social life revolved around the church. Fellowships, potluck dinners (we called them “dinner on the grounds” – a very confusing concept to me as a child), Wednesday night “suppers”. We were Baptists, so we enjoyed pie and coffee at church members’ homes, never a cocktail or a game of cards.
Of course, we always got new clothes to wear on Easter – maybe even a “bonnet” – usually from the Sears catalog!
We acknowledged God in the beauty of creation. Growing up in Key West meant we were constantly reminded of His presence all around us. I specifically remember my mother looking at a breathtaking sunset one evening as we sat on lawn chairs in the front yard after dinner, and saying, “How can anyone say there is no God?” I was about 8 at the time but to this day, when I look at a sunset I remember the awe and sincerity in her voice and I am grateful to the One responsible.
When we visited relatives in North Florida and South Carolina, we practiced the same traditions and shared an understanding and acceptance of the same truths. Faith in God, faith in Christ, these were indisputable and foundational.
When my mother succumbed to cancer in 1997, the assurance of her eternal destiny and the certainty that I would be reunited with her in Heaven were what got me through – and continue to comfort me now.
Faith. I personally don’t believe it can be inherited from your parents nor can you “vaccinate” your own children with it. But it certainly can be modeled – with consistency and depth. How fortunate and thankful I am for my parents, for those who came before them, and for our church community, all of whom brought their faith to me in tangible and memorable ways and helped me make it my own.
Did your family traditions help you form your personal faith? What values were modeled to you through the rhythms and routines of your young life? What are some of your most significant memories?
When was the last time you heard a new Thanksgiving hymn? There are the old standards that many of us recognize, perhaps from our childhoods: “We Gather Together”, “Come, Ye Thankful People, Come”, “Now Thank We All Our God”. But since Thanksgiving is mostly a single weekend observance – and sadly, one that is overshadowed now by “Black Friday” and the start of Christmas shopping season – it’s rare we hear a new take on Thanksgiving songs. The lyrics of the traditional hymns are beautiful, the melodies memorable and it’s all so, well, comfortable. Nothing wrong with that.
Just a few days ago, however, I read in Psalm 96: “Sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD, all the earth.” Since I’m no composer/songwriter, what would that look like for me? How could I sing a “new song” to thank God for all my blessings? I decided to look past the familiar first verses of these old songs to the second verses, to consider where the hymn writers went with them next. It was a great exercise in examining things a little differently and perhaps more deeply.
Here’s an example. Verse 2 of “Now Thank We All Our God”, a song written in the late 1500s, says:
O may this bounteous God
Thro’ all our life be near us,
With ever joyful hearts
And blessed peace to cheer us;
And keep us in His grace,
And guide us when perplexed,
And free us from all ills
In this world and the next.
The evidence is clear here that God is a bounteous God – His presence, His peace, His grace, His guidance and His deliverance; all are listed among His blessings to make the case for His generosity. (And I love the reference to being perplexed!) The songwriter encompasses the full span of our human experience: “all our life”, “in this world and the next”. What a wonderful reminder to keep the long view and remain joyful!
How about you? What is your favorite Thanksgiving hymn? How does the second (or third or fourth) verse help you to worship God with a “new song” this Thanksgiving?
Remember when you were a kid and your parents would get frustrated with you because you wouldn’t eat your vegetables? Your mom would try to convince you that they were good for you (as if that were a compelling reason for a 9-year old to eat something like green beans). Finally, in a fit of exasperation your dad would boom, “You will EAT them and you will LIKE them or you won’t be allowed to (fill in the blank)!”
I think that’s when I first got really good at passive aggressiveness. Okay, I would eat them, but he could NOT make me like them!
Yes, I know, some kids were crazy about green beans, but I wasn’t one of them. It took a while for me to find something about them that could get me past their taste and texture to actually choose them as part of my diet. Certainly, my taste buds had to mature; but more important, I had to mature enough to see the big picture: that my health was key to my happiness.
My mother was right; those green beans were loaded with nutrients that made them good for me and that was reason enough for me to eat them and eventually come to like them. Now they bring back memories of Thanksgiving casseroles and the particular warmth and aroma of my Grandmother’s kitchen (especially if you throw in some cream of mushroom soup and a can of those fried onions).
Singleness can hit us the same way. Maybe deep down we know being single could be the best thing for us right now. We may have some work to do on ourselves before we have any business being in another relationship. We may even know that singleness could actually be a wise choice for our long-term happiness.
Fine. But darn if we’re going to like it!
We stamp our foot (figuratively, of course) and refuse to consider that God may have something important to teach us during this season and that it could actually turn out to be a time of unparalleled spiritual growth and emotional healing. We don’t want to approach singleness with a sense of expectation and humility; we just want to be in a relationship!
Turns out, green beans won’t kill you. They might even make you healthier, if you make them a regular part of your diet. (And go easy on the cream of mushroom soup and fried onions!)
I’m pretty sure singleness won’t kill you either. You could even find something about this season to like, as you look at the big picture and choose to trust that God will use your present to form your future.
In recent months, my co-author and I have agonized over the best approach for our book on singleness. We thought we had it; then we weren’t so sure. We have both worked with singles and single parents for years and have many stories to share about those who have found healing and wholeness as singles. Our desire has always been to encourage singles and help them understand their value. We say we want them to be “whole-hearted singles” and that all singles have equal worth in the eyes of God, even though in the church singles often feel “less than” because they aren’t married.
The New Testament invites all to be part of the family of believers and to reproduce spiritually, whether single or married. In that view, the family is as much a spiritual entity as a physical one and the role singles have to play in God’s story is both significant and unique. I’m on board with all of that.
Then one night in September I was watching the movie “Under the Tuscan Sun” on TV (for about the third time since it came out in 2003) and an interesting thing happened in my heart.
If you saw the movie, you may recall the premise. Diane Lane plays a woman in her mid-30s who has been dumped by her husband and who goes to Italy to start a new, independent life. But even though she is successful at renovating this rundown villa and making lots of new, wonderful friends, she still longs to be in a loving relationship. There’s a scene near the end – and this is where I was drawn into the story again in a personal way – where she watches a married man, who has become a close friend, interact tenderly with his wife and family. It is clear that Lane’s character aches with longing to be in a relationship like that. I was ambushed by the emotions she portrayed and was transported back to that place in my own life.
Understand: I was a single parent for 18 years before I remarried five years ago. I raised my daughter alone and developed a deep, abiding dependency on Christ during that time thanks to prayer, a strong church and the support of committed Christian friends. If anyone understands that singleness can be rewarding and that Jesus is sufficient, it’s me.
But watching that scene, I remembered with painful clarity the times when I was single that I, too, ached for another chance at love; the times I gave in to self-condemnation, thinking that perhaps I just didn’t deserve it; and the feelings of resignation and sadness that I would probably grow old “alone”. That night, in front of the TV, I was there all over again and the intensity of my reaction caught me by surprise. I was reminded that we are truly created for relationship and that the longing to be loved is a universal one. I was also reminded of how crushing that desire can be.
Here’s what I concluded: We may acknowledge on an intellectual level that singleness is useful and honorable for the long haul – perhaps even preferable for some – and Christ can meet our needs. That is truth right out of the Bible. But we tend to believe that this applies to others, not to us. I may be wrong about this, but I think the majority of singles don’t really want to stay single, even with Jesus by their side; they want to be in a loving human relationship. And no amount of casting singleness in a more “spiritual” light – however valid and Biblical – is going to make them want to stay where they didn’t want to be in the first place.
Asking people to accept singleness as an acceptable long-term alternative to marriage may be a valid effort, but it still feels to many like the consolation prize (especially in the Christian community). And what happens is, singles spend so much energy trying to get out of being single, they miss the rare opportunities for growth where they are.
Perhaps singles would be better served by being encouraged to make the most of this time while they are single. What if we gave practical steps for singles to confirm their value, find healing, experience wholeness, and enjoy community while single in ways that simply aren’t possible while in a committed relationship? Think of it as “becoming singleful” – making the most of a unique time of life, whether it is for a season or a lifetime.
What do you think it would look like to become “singleful”? Do you know anyone you might call “singleful”?
Have you had a moment of clarity that shifted your thinking about an important issue? What led up to it and how did you respond?
It’s 7:00 on a Friday night and the lobby is filling up fast. The women are dressed to the nines, sizing up the other women, trying to get a read on the “competition”, while the outnumbered men – looking a little awkward and uncomfortable themselves – are checking out the women. There’s a band starting up in the auditorium and the air is electric with expectation.
It’s not a rock concert. It’s a singles “Kickoff” event at a suburban church.
The newcomers have a hard time distinguishing between the pulsing bass and their own thrumming heartbeats. The seasoned pros practice looking nonchalant, bobbing their heads and tapping their fingers to the beat of the music. Everyone is nervous and hopeful.
A young widow fights the urge to turn around and run back to her car. A newly-divorced accountant wonders if this was such a good idea after the stressful day he just had. The single mom hopes the evening won’t end with her wishing she had stayed home with her preschooler. The never-married machinist hopes no one remembers the unintentional slur against “40 year old single guys” from the pulpit a few weeks ago. And the professional woman debates whether to tell the men she is in law enforcement or make something up, just for tonight.
There are people there with secrets they don’t want anyone to know and others with gaping emotional wounds. Most are just lonely and longing to be understood. And truth be told, all of them are hoping to find someone who will want to know them, value them, and make them whole.
The scene above plays out regularly, year after year, in churches nationwide: Singles looking to get out of being single, wanting to find someone with whom they can enjoy and share life. Many never realize they could be taking advantage of a remarkable opportunity for personal healing, meaningful community, and unique intimacy with Christ as a single, whether or not they eventually marry.
They are missing their chance to be “Whole-Hearted Singles”.
What if singleness was not just a life stage to get through on the way to something “better”, but a status of great significance to embrace, whether for a season or a lifetime?
Do you believe singles really can enjoy a deeply satisfying intimacy with Christ and a thrilling experience of the true community He wants for His followers?
Did you know there’s a Biblical basis for singleness that raises the value of singles and gives them equal status and significance in the eyes of God?
I’m writing a book about this with a seasoned pastor at my church. Your input – whether you are single or married – is more than welcome!
We hear the term “workaround” used a lot these days, especially in the information technology world, where the term usually refers to solving some kind of hardware or programming problem. Once the problem is fixed, the workaround is abandoned. Wikipedia defines a workaround as “a temporary fix that implies that a genuine solution to the problem is needed.”
I think a lot of people view singleness that way: a temporary fix, a stopgap measure to use until the “problem” is fixed. Many, including singles themselves, consider singleness a life stage to get through, with marriage as the ultimate “solution”.
Have you ever thought of singleness as a workaround?
If you’re married, you may consider your single friends incomplete or unfinished (maybe even broken). You may have “fixed them up” with other singles in an effort to help them find a date and a mate. (And they may have appreciated it!)
If you’re single, you may have put your life on hold until marriage, even without realizing it, and have begun to wonder if you’re ever going to get to live that life you envisioned. If you’ve been married before, you may be hoping for another chance and you, too, have put yourself in a holding pattern “until”…
Many who are single have found themselves there as the result of a death, a divorce, or a painful breakup that they never anticipated. Whatever the circumstances, singleness need not be a fragile kind of “cobbled together” existence to be merely endured.
Looking at singleness through a New Testament lens gives a whole different perspective to the concept of singleness. Jesus himself chose to be single and used it as a particular opportunity for dedicated service to God in this life. His was a life rich in relationships, meaning, and deep intimacy with God. He challenged others to remain single if they could (Matthew 19:12), and set a perfect example of effective ministry and genuine love for others. He enjoyed a mutual companionship with His Father through prayer and meditation that was fully satisfying.
What if singleness is not just a stage to endure but a status of great significance to embrace with joy? What if singles really can enjoy a deeply satisfying intimacy with Christ and a thrilling experience of the true community He experienced?
Singles can be transformed in their Christian faith now – whether or not they eventually marry – and they are uniquely positioned to play a critical role in God’s overall plan to redeem humanity. That’s no workaround.
What is your perspective on singleness? Is it a limitation or a desirable status with potential for meaningful service?
How can we as Christ followers think “outside the box” about singleness?
What are some stereotypes that stand in the way and how can we rethink them?
Follow
