Oh Love That Will Not Let Me Go

My granddaughter's face reflects my heart

Yesterday I was bellyaching to God. . .

God, I’m irritated at you.  You know how exhausted I am.  How long this year has been. How long the past eight years have been.  All of the schooling, and working, and planning, and dreaming. All of  the waiting and uncertainty.  All of the shattered and unfulfilled dreams.  All of the insomnia.  All of the emotional turbulence. What is the point?  Really!  Enough is enough.  Time for you to step in and relieve me of my pain and discomfort. Haven’t I learned enough?

Not pretty, I know.  But real.  Real frustration.  Real impatience.  Real dissatisfaction. Real me.  Still demanding, still entitled, and still not wanting to wait on God’s perfect timing.  Still needing the refining fire.  Ugh.  

The transformation process can be miserable. Dark. Long.  Difficult.  Confusing.  Maddening. Yet, the transformation process is crafted by hands of love.  I can view it as punitive or as a privilege.

Yesterday as I awoke my aging, demented mother, I turned on her worship music.  The hymn “Oh Love That Will Not Let Me Go” wafted across the room.  It pierced my soul. 

Who on this earth will ever love me in such a way that they will intentionally cause me pain and discomfort in order to make me more beautiful?  No one. 

But God will. 

His love rises above my bellyaching.  Amidst His own tears, He does what is best for me.  Never content until I experience all of Him. 

Oh Love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in thee. 

 Thank you my Abba.  I love you too.  And, I’m sorry I lost sight of the love behind the pain.  I’ll stop my bellyaching now.

 Kinsey

The most beautiful rendition of this song . . . ever:

 Oh Love That Will Not Let Me Go

O Love, that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in Thee;
I give Thee back the life I owe,
That in Thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O Light, that followest all my way,
I yield my flickering torch to Thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in Thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy, that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to Thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross, that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from Thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

Every Party Needs a Pooper

I’m hesitant to write this because it has the potential of making you mad. That's not my intent.

Well then, what is?

I’m a little concerned (okay, a whole lot concerned) about a particular verse that is being used as a platform for “positive thinking.” 

Wait, that’s not completely it. My real concern is this: how rarely we do our homework when it comes to interpreting scripture.  If something sounds good, or rings true we take a portion of a verse or passage and run with it; using it to support our teachings.  Eventually, everyone is quoting it and even whole books are written on its premise.

And few ever bother to actually look up the verse and read it in its context.  Sigh.  

I want to wake us up a bit and start to question what we have believed and/or taught.    

My intention is to challenge our hermeneutics. Herm-a-what-ics? Never mind. If this blog post makes us ask, “What does that verse really mean?” and causes us to go back and explore the chapter and book surrounding it, then I will have considered it worthwhile.

Okay. Drum roll. Here’s the verse that I think we are getting wrong (Hear me out before you throw something at me):

“For as he thinks within himself, so he is.”  Prov. 23:7

I hear this verse quoted frequently, interpreted as, “We become what we think.”  Now, I’m not denying that our thoughts and beliefs influence our actions, or even that we can change our behavior by changing our thoughts.  But I am denying that this particular verse teaches that.

How can you say that, Kinsey?  It’s pretty obvious, “as a man thinks, so is he.”

I admit, it does look good, and secretly I want to use it just like everyone else does.  But have we ever stopped to read the surrounding verses?  Here they are:

Do not eat the bread of a selfish man, Or desire his delicacies; For as he thinks within himself, so he is. He says to you, "Eat and drink!" But his heart is not with you. You will vomit up the morsel you have eaten, And waste your compliments.…  Prov. 23:6-8

Did you just hurry past that or did you carefully read it?  I’m not going to do a long-drawn-out exegesis here.  Hopefully you will stop and examine it for yourself.

Just a quick glance makes me think the author is warning us not to covet what a selfish man offers.   My paraphrase:  

Don’t be tricked by his smooth talk.  He’s not what he appears.  On the inside he is against you. Don’t be fooled by him, or crave what you think he can offer you.  It will come back to haunt you.  This guy cannot be trusted.  If you want to know what he is really like, take a peek into his greedy heart.

Some might dismiss my concerns and say, “Alright, maybe that particular verse is not the best for teaching about the power of the mind, but since it is true that our thoughts dictate our actions, can’t we just forgive the fact that it’s taken out of context?”

Insert screeching tires, busting glass, and the sound of a car hitting a wall.

Answer: Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!

We cannot, must not twist and pull out scripture to support our beliefs. We derive our beliefs from scripture. And if we don’t keep the bigger picture in focus (context), how on earth will we ever correctly interpret the smaller picture? 

I don’t want to be a party pooper. Well, maybe I do. If we are dancing to the wrong music, someone's got to pull the plug.

I hope we have all been challenged. This isn’t my typical story-telling blog post. But it’s what I woke up with at 3 a.m. and now that I’ve written it down, maybe I can go back to sleep.

Work hard so you can present yourself to God and receive his approval. Be a good worker, one who does not need to be ashamed and who correctly explains the word of truth.  2 Tim 2:15

Don’t Cross the Line!

When my daughters were small the preacher and I decided it was time that they share a room.  The oldest one, April, age 9, wasn’t too happy about this arrangement.  The youngest, Amy, age 7 was fine with it.  April instantly became territorial.  She drew an imaginary line and posted signs all around her half of the room.  “My bed.” “My toys.” “My side, stay out!”  “Don’t cross this line.”  “Keep away.”

Oh dear.

I confess, we didn’t want to deal with that, so we went back to the original arrangement where Amy shared a room with her baby brother, Timmy, age 5.  Don’t judge; we all have to choose our battles.

My little April did not fall far from the tree.  I was territorial too.  I was territorial about my family, my life.  I had drawn up signs and posted them to the world.  “Keep away.”  “Don’t cross this line.”  “Holy Ground, sin and Satan not allowed.”  I commanded my post, walking the line, carefully screening all that crossed. Foolishly, I thought I was doing a good job. 

It didn’t help that our parishioners would often call upon the preacher and me for help.  Their kids were in trouble, their marriages were struggling, and their spiritual walks were dry or non-existent.  We welcomed them, extended God’s grace and mercy, and prayed with them. When they left I would piously think, “That won’t happen to our family, I’ll see to it.”  Go ahead and judge here if you want.

I can hear you groan.  Hey, I’m groaning with you.  Foolishly, I thought I would be able to shield myself and my family from the consequences of the fall.   

Couldn’t.  Didn’t. Still can’t.

Corruption exists in the Oglesby family; it spills over into our children's children.  The line's been crossed. We are broken family, living in a broken world, and experiencing broken consequences.  

But God.  But God!

This is where He shines best.  Picking up the broken pieces of our lives.  Healing, restoring, reshaping, and making beauty from ashes.  This is why Jesus came.  To pay for my sins. My family’s sins. To redeem our lives from destruction.

He is doing what I couldn’t do, didn’t do, and still can’t do.  He’s the God of mercy.  He’s the God of grace.

Hallelujah!   

Owning my brokenness, and resting in His never-ending mercy has relived me from the vigil of my self-imposed command post. 

Not that it’s wrong to be vigilant and stand guard.   It was just a crazy notion that I could somehow keep our family unstained in a sin-stained world.  I conveniently forgot that sin comes from within, not without. Sinful people do sinful things.

It's good to own my brokenness.  It’s a relief. I like being redeemed and restored by the hand of God.  I love that my family is in God’s great big capable hands and He is at work in all of us to restore us back into His image.  I’m seeing little signs of it.  In me.  In the preacher.  In my children. It’s good.

God crossed the line to rescue us from sin and death.  He crossed the line to reclaim us as His own.  He crossed the line to restore in us the image of God. We all share the same room, the same sinful condition.  We all have only one hope.  Jesus Christ.