theROCK

Perfection and Mercy

I have always had really high standards, for myself and for others. I have lived my life demanding excellence because, as my father said growing up: “If you are going to do something, do it to the best of your ability or don’t do it at all.” With this mindset, I have lived a great deal of my life as a perfectionist.

Recently, however, I went through a really difficult stretch of life where I couldn’t be perfect, no matter how hard I tried. Due to a series of very unfortunate events all stacked on top of each other, I was actually just trying to make it out of bed every day and keep my family going. Perfection was replaced with survival.

It was in this time of darkness that God worked a wonderful work of healing within me. He showed me the depth of His mercy. That while He does desire Christ-like excellence from us, He sees our heart, the depth of our love for Him. He sees how hard we are trying. God is as merciful as He is exacting.

This tension, between God’s high standards and His mercy, is present in today’s Gospel. He, the King, is throwing a banquet and casting out invitations to everyone and anyone who wants to come. And yet, he casts out the person who showed up without the appropriate attire. Why? Because God doesn’t just want us to show up. He doesn’t want the bare minimum from us. He wants our best. And sometimes, our best is making it to Church in spit-up stained leggings and T-Shirt because we barely made it out the door. And sometimes our best is as close to perfection as a person can get on earth. He knows the circumstances of our lives. He knows the intention of our heart. He is deeply compassionate and merciful. But we also have to do more than just show up. We have to give Him our very best, whatever that may look like.

What Kind of World Do You Want to Build?

What kind of world do you want to build?

I posed this question to a woman I am currently mentoring in discipleship. It is a question I find myself pondering a lot. It guides much of the ministry work I do here and in my personal life. What kind of a world do I want for my kids? And how am I helping to build that?

The question was posed during a conversation we had regarding a T Shirt I recently made and started wearing around. The shirt says “Free Prayer – Honestly, please ask”. It was inspired by the buttons some of our parishioners wore at our summer festival, offering prayer to festival goers. One of the participants in the current Missionary Discipleship Training Group asked if the group thought there would be any takers if people wore those button out in public. To which I responded: “I don’t know. I’ll make a shirt and find out.”

The point of the shirt isn’t just a sociological experiment or a fun little challenge. It’s part of my answer to that initial question. What kind of world do I want to build?

I recently took a Target run to buy school supplies for my own kid for the first time. My little 5 year old, going off to school. Being the emotional mama that I am, I started crying. My baby girl. Going to K-4. Where has the time gone?! She’s basically got one foot out the door already! And as fellow school shoppers passed me by I got averted gazes and weirded-out looks. Not one person asked if I was okay or sympathized with what was obviously a young mother’s breakdown over her growing children.

What kind of world do I want to build? I want to build a world where we are constantly supporting each other with prayer. Where we reach out when we see someone in need, not pretend not to notice. Where people readily risk being awkward for the sake of being loving. Where seeing people pray for each other, right there in the Target aisle isn’t weird or unusual, but is in fact the norm. I want my kids to grow up feeling and believing that praying for strangers is perfectly normal and is in fact beautiful.

So I’ll keep wearing my T Shirt as one small step to build the world I want to live in, knowing I am taking many other such steps to improving this world with the love of Christ.

What kind of world do you want to build, dear reader? And how are you helping to build that?

A Still Small Voice

What do you hear when God speaks to you? What does the voice of God sound like to you? Do you know?

I frequently tell people stories that include phrases like: “and then God said to me…” or “I could feel the Holy Spirit nudging me…”. More often than not, if people say anything, they tell me God doesn’t speak to them. I know this to be impossible because there is absolutely nothing special about me. If God speaks to me, He speaks to you. He speaks to all of us.

I wonder if part of the problem is that we listen for His voice in the wrong places or ways. Like today’s first reading. The prophet Elijah is waiting “for the Lord to pass by” on Mount Horeb. Strong winds sweep the mountain, crushing stones.
But God is not in the wind. An earthquake shakes the very ground he stands on. But God is not in the earthquake. A fire breaks out upon the mountain, but God is not even in the fire. Instead, Elijah hears a whisper and bows before the Lord.

Don’t we often expect God’s voice to come to us in big, pronounced ways? Like our own burning bush moment or a James Earl Jones voiceover from the clouds. While God is certainly capable of big revelations like this, most often He speaks to us in that whisper—sometimes translated “a still, small voice” spoken in our hearts. We only need to be looking, listening, quiet, and calm enough to hear it.

 Instead of looking for God to set up a billboard for us, let us create that time and space to listen for His still, small voice speaking to us in our hearts.