Listen to What I am Saying

I got sick last week, and over the weekend I lost my voice.  And in doing so, I found out a little bit more about my heart.

You see with an energetic four year old around, I have to use my voice a good deal.  And sometimes, even with complete calmness and control, I find that I need to put a little "steel" in my tone and increase my volume to be sure that Parker is giving me his full attention.

What I didn't realize, (until I couldn't do it any more!) is how often my tone and volume are not dictated by calmness and parental good intent.  Instead my black heart bubbles up in frustration, or anger, or just plain selfishness, and I verbally take it out on the littlest guy in the room.  It isn't (usually) a long, screaming tirade that takes place.  But there is enough volume to communicate the heat of my sin.  

So over the weekend as Parker and I made Brunswick Stew, and mixed cornbread, and went to Chestnut Hill to get coffee and croissants, and ran to pick up a few things at the store, I continually found myself trying to raise my voice with irritation and anger, only to sound like an asthmatic, squeak toy.

The weakness of my voice, was again leading me to see the weakness of my heart.  Instead of being able to lash out at Parker verbally to make my point, I had to get up, draw close to him and really communicate.  And because I was so up close and face to face with him, I could easily see the reproach in his deep, dark eyes every time my frustration boiled over onto him.  The pain in those little eyes did what my willpower never does--it broke my heart anew over the breadth of my sin.  I was truly stunned by the ease with which I normally steamroll over the little man with my need for his instant obedience, and submission to me.

Jesus wisely tells us that our mouths are a window into our souls; they reveal what is hidden within.  That's true even when the words being spoken can't be uttered any louder than a whisper.

Would you continue to pray for us this week that we would see the depth of our sin as parents, so that we can help Parker know the depth of God's love and grace to those who can't fix themselves?

Sonship Week Vignette 2--I Need an Interpreter

Every day during Sonship Week the staff would gather for a staff meeting and prayer while the conference participants were in one of their small groups.  Even at the best of times, I hate going to meetings.  And the only thing worse that going to a meeting is having to lead a meeting.

Everyone else gets to laugh and joke and relax.  I on the other hand am furiously scribbling notes for things to remember to mention, watching the clock so that we have enough time to pray and then get down to lunch before the lines get too long, and generally trying to figure out how to lead a group of folks who are all generally a good deal older than I am.  Even without the stresses of the week, I'd be pretty close to over my head in that sort of situation.  I like calm.  I like order.  I like having enough time to carefully consider things.  Sonship Week staff meetings (by their very nature) have none of those things.

At one meeting, I introduced a topic that needed a decision, listened for about .8 seconds and then moved on mentally to the next thing I needed to remember to say.  As the discussion swirled around me, I was lost in my own little world, and when the conversation finally came to a halt, I summarized the group's decision.  Except that I didn't.

As I was moving on to the next topic, Jennifer kindly placed one hand on my knee and said, "Patric, I don't think you were really listening to what the group was saying."  (Uncanny how she was able to spot this so quickly, since I never fail to listen to her while she is talking!)  Indeed, I had gotten the gist of the conversation exactly wrong, and without Jennifer's kind intervention I would have continued to tromp straight ahead with my own plans and agenda.  The group had a good laugh and several folks asked if Jennifer could come to all of our meetings back in Philadelphia to interpret for me.

It's amazing to me how that scenario so closely resembles so much of my prayer life.  It isn't that I don't talk to God.  I talk all the time.  But like the guy who is running a staff meeting, I simply move through my list, being sure that I mention what I think is so needful, and very rarely pausing for a response, let alone sitting still long enough to listen.  The funny thing is that I always think rushing more quickly will provide the space and time my soul craves and it never does.  When it comes to our spiritual lives (or even just leading meetings) velocity is antithetical to relationship, and most of the time it feels like my life is all about the velocity.

  

Sonship Week Vignette 1--On Time Righteousness

This year at Sonship Week we tried a few new things.  One of them was an attempt to have a better integration between worship and the teaching that we were providing.  Like every collaborative effort, working with a lot of moving parts takes a fair bit of co-ordination.  In this case, this meant that we were asking our speakers to finish their talks promptly, so that there would be enough space and time for our worship and times of response.

As the leader of the week, the responsibility for keeping us on schedule largely fell to me, and I must say the teaching team really did a remarkable job of working hard to finish their talks on time.  And of course, in my own desire to lead by example (1%), serve the rest of the team well (1%) and prove just how possible it was to deliver an excellent talk and finish right on time since I'm such and "old pro" at it (98%), I again saw just how much I need the gospel.

On Thursday AM, I gave a talk about how we need to have daily intimacy with our Father for the gospel to grow in our lives.  To be honest, even though I had thoroughly timed out the talk, and written my stop time (9:10) on the top of all my notes, I was totally lost in the moment.  I felt free!  I felt alive!  I felt like I was really connecting with the audience!!  And when I sat down, I finally remembered to look at my watch.  And...  it said 9:10 on the dot!!!

Are you ready for the fall?  My immediate response was, "Yeah!  All right!  I did it just right.  I said what I wanted, the way I wanted and I finished right on time.  I'm worthy of the team's respect."  And then, what do you think I noticed?  I noticed that on the timed schedule for the day, that my finish time was actually 9:05 and not 9:10.  My immediate response was, "Oh crap!  I really blew it.  I didn't perform the way I needed to, and no matter what I said or how well I said it, this talk is failure.  I'm a failure."

You can see the problem here can't you?  My righteousness and reputation before God does not improve even if I do everything right, or even if I do everything wrong.  Both of those swings of emotion revealed to me that even in the midst of hearing the gospel at Sonship Week, I'm still always striving to establish my own righteousness--a self-righteousness that is based on my merit and performance (even when that merit is trivial!!).

Of course the story gets worse.  After sitting there in despair for a few minutes and pondering the unbelief that each of the reactions evidenced, I then remembered that we had started the session 5 minutes late... So I was on time after all!  And right in that moment, even after having just seen how greedy my heart was for my own reputation and repenting of it, I again ran right back to my  "on time righteousness" as my defining identity.  

Sheesh... I thought Sonship Week was going to fix all of that!