by Angela Sanders | Dec 22, 2015
Fitness is its own reward, I guess, but the chance to people-watch makes the prospect of walking my neighborhood so much more appealing. Scenes like the following, for instance, make that last .75-mile loop through the private drive worthwhile.
Wheels crunching, an SUV with Minnesota plates whips into the driveway of a house wearing yards of Christmas jewelry, and, before the engine even stops knocking, a senior adult couple, snow-capped and bright, tumbles out.
“Come on! Hurry up,” the woman whisper-shouts, motioning to her husband. Shoulders high, eyebrows raised, lipsticked smile wide open, she looks like a child wearing grandmother clothes.
“I’m coming.” Just as excited as she, her husband, lanky and hunched, rounds the hood and takes her hand.
Laughing absently, the two practically scurry to the center of the front porch, take a collective breath, and ring the bell.
I pause to tie my shoe, of course.
To the couple’s obvious glee, a happy ruckus ensues inside the home. Squeals, laughter, and the low murmur of a male voice approach from the backside of the door.
Focusing just below the doorknob, the eager couple waits for the door to open.
“We’re here!” they cry in unison as a much younger version of the older man opens the door with a sleepy smile.
“Grandma! Grandpa!” a little boy shouts just a split second before leaping high into Grandpa’s strong arms. Grandpa laughs and murmurs something funny as he buries his face in the little boy’s neck. Content, Grandpa rocks the child back and forth, anticipation melting into pure joy.
“Ellie?” Grandma calls softly, taking a knee. Smiling, she reaches out, hoping.
There, in the center of the doorway, Ellie stands, almond eyes wide, jaw dropped in shock. Scarcely bigger than the oversized Iron Man figure hanging stiff by her side, the pajama-clad tot looks every bit the part of Cindy Lou Who, the cartoon, wispy hair and all.
“It’s Grandma,” Ellie’s father coaxes, nudging the back of her tiny head with his fingers. Like a bobble-head doll, Ellie resists and stands her ground. For a moment, it looks as if she might cry, and my heart begins to break for Grandma.
“We told you we would come,” Grandma coos softly, dropping her arms just a bit. “Remember?”
Tilting her head, Ellie considers. Everyone waits.
Hopeful, Grandma reaches out once more. “Well, we’re here, just like we promised.”
With the hint of a smile, Ellie looks to her father for encouragement. Upon his fervent nod, she drops the doll with a clatter and scoots quickly into her grandmother’s embrace. Giggling, the two melt into a wiggly, happy cuddle, and all is right with the world.
Shoe tied, I hurry on, blessed and a little less winded.
My thoughts turn quickly to you.
Jesus Christ has come, dear one, just like the Father promised. Having reconciled the world to Himself through His death on the cross and resurrection from the grave, our Savior stands ready to receive those who surrender their hearts to Him fully. In Him, we have salvation. In Him, you will find peace. May God grant you the faith to believe. Merry Christmas!
“Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in…” (Rev. 3:20).
by Angela Sanders | Dec 7, 2015
It’s hard to give my daughter a compliment, not because the words we say are untrue–I’m not one to pass out empty praise, believe me!–but because she squirms under the scrutiny of others. You see, no matter the level of excellence she has achieved, my truly beautiful, highly intelligent, exceptionally talented daughter is always convinced that she could have done better, that she could’ve been better.
I can relate.
In fact, I suspect I have taken perfectionism to another level entirely. For, deep down, in my still-too-human heart, I crave affirmation with intensity. Little else drives me like the opportunity to win or accomplish. While there is nothing inherently wrong with these desires, the way that I pursue them can become a stumbling block to others if I’m not careful.
They can become gods in my life.
Here’s a hard truth for someone like me: Perfect doesn’t exist this side of Heaven. It just doesn’t. The ideal that we humans chase is just a mirage, subjective, changing, and, therefore, unattainable. Even when we get to Heaven, the perfection wrought in us there will not be the result of human effort, but the divine work of the Holy Spirit (Phil 1:6).
Does that mean we shouldn’t push ourselves, work hard, and set goals? Absolutely not. The Bible says, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord” to “make the teaching about God our Savior attractive” (Col 3:23, Titus 2:10).
It does mean, however, that we must keep things in perspective. In the Kingdom, obedience to the Father, not self-actualization, is success, no matter the observable, measurable results. It’s when we lose sight of this truth that bad things happen.
The practice of perfectionism in my own life, rather than making me better like one might assume, really brings out the ugly, stealing my joy and fanning into bright flame guilt, fear, anxiety, self-hatred, dishonesty, suspicion, mistrust, and a critical spirit. It keeps me from resting, enjoying what I have, investing, being present in the moment, extending hospitality, serving, savoring milestones, giving thanks, practicing contentment, rejoicing with others, receiving praise or instruction, inspiring, forming deep friendships, trying new things, being productive, or developing my spiritual gifts. It sets a bad example for my children and leads others to believe that I expect perfection from them when nothing could be further from the truth.
And that’s the short list! (Please, feel free to add to it from your own experience in the comments below! Let’s learn from each other.)
All things considered, hyper-focusing on personal perfection is not only futile; it’s counterproductive, especially for those who seek to please the Father, build up the Body of Christ, and advance the Gospel.
That’s why I am letting go of perfect.
I hesitate to say so because it’s only been a few weeks, and I’m not very good at it yet–Oh, the irony!–but I’m learning as I go. The road to Perspective is a long one, for sure, but there’s freedom in every step.
by Angela Sanders | Nov 19, 2015
It’s been a rough couple of weeks, maybe not as some people would define rough, but rough in my book. The pain and struggles of family members immediate and extended and the tragedies abroad have left me mentally tired and emotionally spent, and although the leaves have turned and the temperature has chilled, it still doesn’t feel like Thanksgiving to me. There’s just too much going on.
I wish things were different. My heart literally aches to express gratitude to the Father with enthusiasm, but my brain won’t hush up long enough to let me focus on the task, much less muster up the appropriate emotion. Like a baby’s cry, it jangles my nerves at the most unexpected and inopportune moments, jerking my focus back to present circumstances, raising my heart rate, and killing my calm.
Maddening.
So, what am I going to do? Give up.
In my experience, counting blessings, no matter how long the list may be, does little to ease the ache of human existence when it’s intense, so I’m taking a different approach this year. Rather than focusing on what God has done for me, I’m going to focus on Who He is instead.
Here are just a few of His attributes:
- God is infinite (1 Kings 8:27, Acts 17:28). He has no end.
- God is eternal (Genesis 21:33, Psalm 90:2). He is not bound to or by time.
- God is immutable (James 1:17). He does not change and is not changeable.
- God is omnipresent (Psalm 139:7-12). He is everywhere (but not in everything).
- God is sovereign (Ephesians 1). He is ruler over all.
- God is omniscient (Matthew 11:21). He knows all things, both what is and what is possible.
- God is omnipotent (Revelation 19:6). He is all-powerful.
- God is just (Acts 17:31). He is fair and shows no favoritism.
- God is love (Ephesians 2:4-5). He extends grace and mercy.
- God is true (John 14:6). He is consistent with all that He represents.
- God is holy (1 John 1:5). He is righteous.
The truth is, had He never done a single thing for me as an individual, God would still be worthy of my worship and praise.
But He did.
Long ago, God sent His Son Jesus to ransom my soul so that I could call Him Daddy, and because I belong to Him, the Truth of Who He is affects me. It doesn’t take away the hurt or soothe the sting of being human, but it changes the dynamics of what I go through. His glory defines my purpose and gives meaning to my experience. Even if nothing ever gets easier or better from my limited perspective, the very fact that God is Who He is comforts my heart, quiets my mind, and gives me hope. For this, I am always and truly thankful.
by Angela Sanders | Nov 5, 2015
Parenting older children can be painful, not just because of present struggles and circumstances, but because only when our children are older are we able to look back on the path we’ve paved and survey the quality of our work.
Sometimes, what we see makes us smile. Other times, what we see makes us cringe. Casting a furtive glance in all directions to be sure no one has been watching, we back up and course correct before it’s too late.
Once in a while, though, what we see stops us in our tracks. Sure that the product of our mistakes will be and probably already has been noticed by passers-by, we hang our heads in embarrassment, convinced that the bright yellow paint of imprudent parenting we’ve spilled and splashed all over our children’s lives is indelible and will cause them to swerve, stumble, and stall forever.
This is where I find myself today, and it stinks.
You see, I did the one thing I swore I would never, ever do. I spoiled my kids. Only in some ways and only sometimes, but I did. Claiming grace, I gave too much. Arguing mercy, I melted, and now, bar God’s gracious intervention and their willingness to self-assess and course correct, things I often under-estimate, my kids will pay the price.
The line between love and indulgence is fine. Trust me. So, how do you know when you’ve crossed it? For what it’s worth, here’s what I’ve learned.
Devotion deteriorates into something detrimental when the way that you choose to parent does any or all of the following:
- Stops, hinders, or discourages the normal progression or rate of spiritual, emotional, or social growth of your children.
- Costs others that which they have not offered and what is rightfully theirs, including resources, time, security, peace of mind, dignity, etc.
- Warps or skews their Biblical perspective of self in relationship to God, authority figures, and others.
- Encourages self-glorification.
- Excuses or rationalizes disobedience to the Truth of God’s Word.
- Presumes upon the grace and mercy of others.
- Fails to teach proper Biblical stewardship of talents, abilities, and/or resources.
To “spoil” is to ruin. While I’ve never known a parent who set out to ruin what God entrusted to their care, many, like me, have gotten so caught up in the pressure of the present that they’ve temporarily lost sight of the future, sacrificing what could and ought to be in favor of peace and quiet in the moment, praise, thanks, affection, or rest. It’s a cheap trade.
To those in the early stages of parenting or right in the thick of it, I urge you to learn from the mistakes of those who have gone before rather than using them as an excuse for your own poor choices. We make poor measuring sticks.
Show us up instead!
Keep your focus. Stay the course. Spare yourself regret by esteeming God’s purposes over self-preservation, and your children will thank you. Eventually.
by Angela Sanders | Oct 26, 2015
“Here, let me introduce you to my pastor (youth minister, music minister, children’s minister, church administrator, etc.)…”
To the one being introduced, few words are as affirming and intimidating as these, for vocational ministers know the title they bear carries with it both the divine responsibility they knew about from the first and a certain amount of human expectation that they have learned to consider. Those with any degree of experience know that the latter is sometimes more difficult to satisfy than the first. All too often, in the hearts of these dedicated men and women, the joy of obedient service is squelched, at least in part, by the nagging suspicion that they have, in spite of their best and most passionate efforts to serve the Church faithfully, let someone down.
Want to ease their burden? In honor of Pastor (Church Staff) Appreciation Month, give them a gift, the best gift they could ever receive: Remember they are human. Don’t just know it on an intellectual level. Think about it. Let the truth sink in until it changes your expectations of and informs your interactions with them.
Remember, just like you, vocational ministers
- Mean well. The media loves fallen ministers and makes much of them, but the truth is ministers who harbor evil intent or wield their influence carelessly are few and far between. Most feel the weight of the calling they have received and, laboring under it, do their very best to carry out their responsibilities in a way that glorifies the Father. Their methodology might differ from yours, but they have the health and wellbeing of the Church in mind. Give them the benefit of the doubt until you have a valid reason not to. Even then, focus on restoration of church unity and the spiritual healing of individual rather than on proving who was right, who was wrong, and/or what should have been done differently.
- Make mistakes. Sanctification is a process that begins the moment a person surrenders their life to Christ and ends only when that person reaches Heaven. That means, no matter who we are, how hard we work, or how much progress we make, we are going to make mistakes from time to time. Imagine making all of yours, big and small, in the fish bowl of vocational ministry, where ripples and whispers are far-reaching. Yikes! Be patient. Forgive as you hope to be forgiven. Forgive as the Father has forgiven you.
- Crave fellowship. Although their job descriptions often require vocational ministers to spend a significant amount of time interacting with church members, much of that time is spent solving problems, taking the burdens of others upon themselves, casting vision, and motivating or inspiring others, all of which can be very taxing. A week or two of such interactions is all it takes to leave a minister feeling flat, discouraged, and half-starved for the kind of mutual edification and encouragement that other church members seem to enjoy as a matter of course. For the good of your church, make sure that you encourage and invest in your ministers as much as you lean on them.
- Need rest. Vocational ministry is a marathon, not a sprint. To run their race well, ministers must discipline themselves to rest, refuel, and set a sustainable pace, things that are particularly difficult for passionate people-pleasers to do. Help them by recognizing the potential for and warning signs of fatigue in them. Help them establish healthy habits by encouraging them to delegate responsibility, allowing them enough time alone with their families and closest friends, and requiring them to take the time off they are allowed so they can “kick it in” when circumstances call for it.
- Want to please the Father. only way do this is to study His Word diligently, pray faithfully, and obey the Holy Spirit’s leading, disciplines you would expect to be at the top of every vocational minister’s to-do list. They are, but natural disasters often creep up in the Body and demand their attention, grassfires of gossip, financial freeze, infestations of immorality, avalanches of apathy, quakes of competition, pandemics of pride, and the like. In those moments, importance is trumped by urgency, leaving vocational ministers vulnerable to spiritual fatigue, fluctuating emotion, and human opinion. Help them maintain their focus by doing your part to prevent and curb those natural disasters in their early stages, pursuing those disciplines yourself and encouraging others to do the same, and allowing vocational ministers at least as much time as you need to pursue the Father with excellence.
To love someone is to extend mercy and grace, and Jesus said, “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matt 22:39). That shouldn’t be so hard in this case, should it, considering all we have in common?