forgiveness – Sheila Dougal

7 Thing Keeping Me Awake Tonight

I worked a twelve and half hour day on the acute rehab unit today. Made chili dogs for my sons when I got home and a bowl of sautéed veggies, brown rice and quinoa for myself with a glass of pinot grigo. Worked in my powerpoint presentation for my community health class. And listened to my two teenage sons decend into a legit fight downstairs when they were supposed to be going to bed. After the fight was broken up and they were all sleeping soundly from the let down of their pubescent male adrenaline rush, I sat here with another glass of pinot grigo to try and finish my powerpoint. I didn’t finish. I ended up squeaking out a wimpy prayer for help in raising these teenage sons of mine. I turned to my Bible. And then, I confess, got distracted by a notification from Twitter and started perusing tweets. I saw people’s posts about Rachel Denhollander’s victim impact statement at Larry Nassar’s sentencing hearing and the interview she gave to Morgan Lee at Christianity Today and sighed more moaning prayers of longing for Jesus to make things right. And then my mind flooded with concerns. Concerns for sons growing up in this culture. In this house. Concerns for the church in the U.S. Concerns for my marriage. And then I went back to scripture. Like coming up for air after a dive in the deep end of the pool. And I read this:

Genesis 22:1–2

[1] After these things God tested Abraham and said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” [2] He said, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” (ESV)

And then my tired brain punched out these seven thoughts like take-a-number tickets at the deli.

I get that God is teaching us something about trusting him through the story of Abraham and Isaac. And I even get that it foreshadows Christ, the only begotten Son of God, sacrificed for us. But I’ve always struggled with why God would have Abraham offer his son as a burnt offering.
I need wisdom to raise these sons. I’m tired and I just don’t know what to do most of the time.
God will take what he has given me, that I lay in obedience to him, even if it seems like I may loose the very thing he’s given me, and he will use it for his glory. Applies to my marriage. My sons. My life…
Eating vegan for the last month has been surprisingly pleasant. No fancy vegan frozen imitations of real meat dishes. Just lots and lots of fresh or sautéed veggies, quinoa, brown rice, oats, nuts and more veggies. It’s been good. I might just keep doing this.
There is a real confusion in the church about what mercy and forgiveness is and how it’s different than enabling and not dealing with or exposing sin and wickedness. I’ve seen this in my own life and marriage. I see it in the Rachel Denhollander’s story.
I’m going to feel so good when I don’t have a headache, jaw pain, sinus pain and a bunch of knots in my neck and back. After having injections in some of my facial muscles yesterday and metal rods jammed up my nose I see more injections and a root-rooter job on my sinuses in my near future. Ugh.
I have a job interview tomorrow… home health.

we need to listen. and shut our mouths.

The other day while driving to my oldest son’s baseball game, this story came on the radio. It’s about the producers memories of going on a tour of The National Great Blacks In Wax Museum in Baltimore, Maryland. She recalls with audible disturbance, the traumatic memory she has from her school tours through the museum which depicts lynchings and a slave ship as well as segregation and slavery. Its one of the few times everyone in the car was silent. Three white males in the car 47, 14, and 12. And myself a white woman. It really hit us all. My pubescent sons’ mouths were gaping and at one point my youngest announced, “This is horrible! Why would people do that?” I turned the volume down and asked the boys to imagine that they were born and raised in a country where in recent history white people were segregated, lynched, abused, treated like animals and made to be slaves? That’s the history that my black friends in the U.S. live with.

People like me and my husband and sons we have no idea what that feels like. That’s what “white privilege” means. It doesn’t me we get a hand out or hand up. It means we don’t live with a history of oppression against people who look like us in the country we call home.

I know folks are upset about NFL players taking a knee during the national anthem. And I know people are quick to defend police officers (so am I… I’m married to one). But we white folks need to listen. We need to listen to stories like this. And to the stories of our black neighbors and co-workers and friends. We need to listen. And shut our mouths. We may have good arguments. But especially those of us who call ourselves Christians need to put our hands over our mouths and listen.

I have nothing but respect and prayers for our veterans and military servants. I love my country. But my country has a history of sinful oppression of people of color. What we hear in the news and see on T.V. and post in our social media is not going to stop the blood of the slaves from crying out in their descendants. We need to lay down our lives and listen. We need to stop being Job’s friends to those who are bearing a bitter burden. We need to love our black neighbors. And give our lives for their restoration to wholeness.

This is the way of Christ, our God and Savior who wasn’t white. This is the way of the God who calls peoples of every tribe, tongue and nation to be his children. This is the way of Jesus, who drove out the proud money-changers and proclaimed, “Is it not written, ‘My house shall be a house of prayer for all nations”? And you have turned it into house of robbers!“

“For the love of Christ controls us, because we have concluded this: that one has died for all, therefore all have died; and he died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for him who for their sake died and was raised.” -2 For. 5:18-19

Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger… -James 1:19

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I don’t want to miss the point

Finally everyone is in bed and its quiet. I sit to reflect on the day and try to really live it again. The day was full of baseball, cleaning, spending time with the dad and husband who’s gone every Saturday, watching the 3rd game in the World Series, feeling really shocked that Detroit hasn’t done…anything. And now, as everyone’s finally in bed and the house is quiet (minus the washing machine finishing the spin cycle and the distant sounds of the mariachi band playing for the Day of the Dead somewhere in the vicinity) I’ve got a minute to record some of what I’ve been meditating on today:

If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O Lord, who could stand? But with you there is forgiveness, that you may be feared. I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope. My soul waits for the Lord more than watchmen for the morning, more than watchmen for the morning. -Psalm 130: 4-6

I used to work nights at a hospital. Waiting for the morning is waiting for rest. Finally. With anticipation and longing and fatigue.

I don’t work nights anymore, but I’m waiting for rest too. When I start to get bogged down in the weight of my fallenness, and the fallenness all around me, and get my eyes off the watch for the rest and on the trying to make rest out of the labor I’m in, I tend to loose sight of the point. The point isn’t my iniquities or anyone elses. The point is the tremendous mercy of the Son. The Son who I wait for to give me the rest from this struggle to stand. Who will rise like the dawn one day. With Him there is forgiveness. He is my only hope.

In studying Tamar, we marked her iniquity and wondered why the Lord didn’t. Didn’t she do something immoral and wrong? In studying Rahab, we marked her iniquity and wondered why the Lord didn’t. Didn’t she lie? We tried to figure out what to do with these women’s sins. But the point wasn’t their sin. Who hasn’t sinned? Who hasn’t lied? Who hasn’t manipulated? Who hasn’t acted or thought immorally? The point isn’t our sin. If that was the point God marked out on us, none of us would stand. The point was and is God’s mercy. The point is the greatness of God’s forgiveness.

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins… But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ–by grace you have been saved– so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. -Ephesians 2:1,4,5,7

One day, when I stand before Him, it’s not the mark of my iniquities that will stand out. Those will be totally washed out by the immeasurable riches of His grace. I won’t be pointing out the sins I see in others (but am so blind to in myself). I’ll be basking in the warmth of the rest of the mercy and grace that has saved me.

When I look at my sin and the requirements that I fail to meet and begin trying to make those less by doing more I miss the point. No doubt I fail, daily. No doubt you do too. No doubt none of us can say we have no wrong in us. None of us can say we have hit the mark of God’s glory with our lives. Our hope is not in being iniquity-free. Our hope is being forgiven. And with the Lord there is forgiveness.

I sat down to write out the theme and characters for the novel idea I have working in my head. I don’t know. This will most likely never be read by anyone other than my dear friend who will be kind enough to give it a read and let me know what she thinks in a very kind way. But, even if it’s never read and its a total lemon, I’m excited about it. So far I have characters and inspiration from A Christmas Carol, It’s a Wonderful Life, and The Family Man. And no, it’s not a Christmas-themed novel. It’s a get-a-little-perspective-themed novel. I think its self-therapy.

Quieted,

Sheila

Spent

Gonna keep this short. I was going to say, “…and sweet,” but it may just be short.

I’m spent. A good deal of energy goes into squatting from a 6 foot position to a kindergarten height to say:

Ok now, remember what I showed you in class yesterday? That’s what we’re going to do now. I’m going to point to the shapes and you tell me what they are.

Ok, let’s start here. What’s this shape? Yes, good. And this one? A box, yes, you can say box, or square. Ok, now what’s this one called? Yes, that’s right. Now what about this? What does this look like to you? Ok, a tooth is good. Some say it looks like a heart, some an apple, but you can call it a tooth if you want to. Ok good job. Now let’s look at the little ones. Ok what shapes are these? Good. Ok now cover one eye with your hand like this. Now don’t poke your eye, just cover it. Ok, what’s this shape? And this one? And this one? Good. Now take your hand off your eye and cover your other eye. No, now you can’t see with both eyes covered. Take one hand off and cover the other eye like this. Good, now what’s this shape? And this one? And this one? Good job! You did great!

Now come over here and sit down and you get to look in these magic glasses and see this cool E. Do you see that E right there? Now in one of these squares is an E that looks just like that but you can only see it with these special glasses on, so put these on and tell me which square you see the E in? Good! Yeah isn’t that neat!?

All right, now we get to play the hearing game? Remember what I showed you in class? Ok, well, I’m going to put these earphones on your ears, and you’re going to hear a quiet beeeeeep. When you hear that beep you have to raise your hand so Nurse Sheila knows you hear it. Show me what you’re going to do when you hear the beep. Ok good. Hear we go. Ok, are you ready? All right listen and raise your hand! (Pause. Push button. No response from student.) Did you hear that? (Child says, “Yes I heard it.”) Ok, when you hear it you have to raise your hand! Ok, let’s try again. (Pause. Push button.) Yes! Good job. Ok, keep listening and raising your hand when you hear it. (Repeat for 8 more tones). Great JOB!

Ok, let’s see how tall you are and how much you weigh. Stand on the scale over there….

Repeat for about 30 kindergarteners. At that point it was only 10:30 in the morning and I was sick of the sound of my own voice.

By the time I was on my way home at 4pm I was ready for a good nap. That didn’t happen. Picked up the kids from school. Got the usual, “It was good,” responses to, “How was your day?” Came home to check emails, go over long-division struggles, change into baseball practice clothes and off we went to practice.

Ryland was proud to get nailed in the lip with the bouncing grounder he caught with his mouth and glove because the coach praised him so much for being tough and catching the ball.

Connor was showing everyone his eyes to see if they could see his new contacts. Yep, my 9 year old has contacts. I don’t need vision correction so I really can’t speak to the issue, but I think the visual reflex of shutting one’s eyelid tightly to prevent foriegn objects from entering the eye is a good enough talking point for why one shouldn’t get contacts. But my husband, who does need vision correction, and wears contacts, thinks it good for a boy who is as on-the-move as Connor to have contacts and not glasses. So he’s got ’em.

I love these words:

Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit. For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,” and you forgave the iniquity of my sin. – Psalm 32:1-5

Quieted,

Sheila

A cupful of Niagara Falls

I feel like I’m trying to catch the lesson on forgiveness much like a person would feel who’s trying to catch a cup of water by holding a mug out under the Niagara Falls.

I know with my head that forgiveness is the crux of Christianity. But its taking me a good two years plus to get a cupful of what it looks like in my life.

I think some of what I’m hearing about forgiveness didn’t splash out of the cup today, or bowl me over on my backside. I think I managed to get a handle on a little of it.

Letting it go.
Running to the arms of the only One who really understands and letting go of being owed affection, protection, provision…love. Yes its owed. Yes it hurts. Yes its right. But let it go. The desire to jab back. The desire to expose and embarrass. Even the desire to be the one to convince and convict that a wrong was done.

Washing feet instead.
In place of those desires fill in some minimum wage-like service that isn’t deserved or paid. Clean something for them. Cook something for them.

Freeing yourself and the other from the bond of bitterness.
Bitterness may be a wicked bond, nevertheless it does bind two people together like shackles. Letting go of what is owed is the only way to break that bond. Other bonds may have to go with those bitter shackles. Good things. Friendships you wanted. Relationships you desired. Plans you had for the two of you. There may be scars. There may be a lack of closeness. But there can be freedom and peace.

Hold steady now Sheila. Drink in what you’ve got there. Let it soak in.

Quieted,

Sheila