Irony Becomes Her

Diablog, Part III

On Having Heart

Hannah: Oh, hurray, hurray, you! You have got to love Reepicheep, and I have got to love that you've got his spirit. One of the nicest compliments your mother ever gave me (which I doubt she even remembers) is, "You know, you're a stout-hearted one." This was right before we moved to Spokane, and you remember how sick my brother was.

The thing is, I don't remember feeling all that stout-hearted at the time. I don't remember feeling faint-hearted either, it's just that I knew I was being provided for. I knew God was real. I knew he was with me. And I knew that made a difference. In a sense, I was pulling myself up by my own bootstraps, but in another sense, I was just accepting the help that was offered. It also made a difference that my parents believed in God. It helped my own belief to settle deep in my gut.

As an adult, I have known friends who didn't have parents who acted like they believed in God. Nominally, yes, but when disaster struck, they wrung their hands and created misery and drama for their children. And I have seen the negative impact on said friends' lives. I have also seen them accept the help God offers, and I have seen it slowly make a difference. The belief settles in the gut. Our gut impulses become better, or more in alignment with that truth we were talking about.

Doubt still creeps in, doesn't it? As an adult, I am no longer under the invisible umbrella of the belief of my parents. I stand vulnerable before God. Sometimes I whine before God, or throw little fits, or cry out, our ask why, or how long. And then I thank Him profusely for being real and hearing me. And I realize that all of this very closely resembles the Psalms. This makes me feel a little better, like maybe I'm on the right track. I don't know why it's so hard. Why is faith so hard if we are being provided for? We're asked to rely on the strength that is being given us, and it still feels as if we're doing it on our own. But we find Jesus saying in this world we will have trouble. He even says don't be surprised by this! He also says he will leave us this Comforter we keep talking about. So we bank on this. We dig deeper. We search the Scriptures that tell us about this strange God who is all powerful and yet humbled himself to the straw-filled feeding trough. My "adult" self doubts more than my child-like self ever did. But I see that in this, it is the child who is wiser.

Because that a small inkling of this faith we keep talking about really does make a difference in our lives. We find ourselves praying bigger prayers, doing more selfless things, being stout-hearted in the middle of all the mess of our lives. We give in to pride, or despair, or whatever, we confess it, receive forgiveness, and MOVE ON.

He lives, he lives, Salvation to impart
You ask me how I know he lives
He lives within my (and your) heart
A.H. Ackley

I see him. So dimly sometimes. But I see his good work in you and me.

Lynn: Yes, doubt creeps in. Every day. The “adult” self wants to hedge against all potential losses just in case this faith thing is a wash. Such hedging is in direct logical contradiction to what faith is.

But how -- under what conditions -- would we conclude faith is a wash? When we do that digging into Scripture that you’re talking about, we discover, in addition to Jesus’ guarantee that we’ll have trouble, that we must be faithful until death! (Revelation 2:10) What? No guarantees before that? None except for that Comforter’s presence with us until and beyond that end of ends.

Side note: I could go on and on about these letters to the churches at the beginning of Revelation, but in general it is so comforting to read how each is told, “I know your deeds.” Their faithfulness (or, in a couple cases, their failure to be faithful) does not go unnoticed, does not fall to the ground without effect. Some of these churches were tiny and brutally oppressed, but the one who is “the First and the Last, who died and came to life again” is intimately aware of the obstacles to and victories of their faith.

Anyway, I think many who have concluded faith is a wash have simply chosen not to carry it to the very end to find out. It takes a child’s complete abandon, complete disregard of risk, to do that – alongside the maturity of “having heart” to proceed when it’s hard.

But I think the point of having heart is kind of defeated when we notice how much heart we’re having, how strong our faith is. Like you said, the time you exhibited noticeable stout-heartedness was not when you felt particularly stout. We do start noticing those benefits you pointed out, but even after the victories we learn to MOVE ON. Somebody knows our deeds.

posted by Lynn @ 11:53 AM