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In which Christ Desires Mercy, not Sacrifice

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Walking through grainfields

Jesus was always getting himself into trouble with the Pharisees, the stern keepers of the law, for his common sense and practicality.

 When his disciples were hungry on the Sabbath, he let them glean. (Matthew 12 :1). When he saw a man with a shrivelled hand in the synagogue on Sunday, he healed him.

Furiously accused for doing what was unlawful on the Sabbath, he answers simply, “ If you had known what these words mean, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice,’ you would not have condemned the innocent. For the Son of Man is Lord of the Sabbath.”

“I desire mercy not sacrifice,” God says. He would, wouldn’t he? He does not need our sacrifices, for the cattle on a thousand hills are his.

What he does covet is our hearts, because he loves us.

He wants our hearts to be soft and gentle, because that is what his heart is like.

I desire mercy, God says.

* * *

I am becoming increasingly aware that the real battleground is within. Follow Christ becomes a joy as we increasingly win  interior battles against grumpiness, against meanness, against unforgiveness, against revenge.

On the days when I have woken up too early and am tired, I am astonished at how swiftly my inner stream of thoughts can turn to negativity. I tell Roy, “I need to be alone a bit. I am feeling negative,” to ensure I do not sin, and do harm with my words.

And then, I have to consciously turn that stream of thoughts to praise and thanksgiving.

* * *

It’s October now, autumn in England, and the leaves are falling. But we have clematis still in bloom in our garden, three rose bushes, one yellow buddleia, butterfly bush, a lone cyclamen, and a stray hellebore.

Always beauty, always something to thank God for, though the days grow shorter, and the nights longer.

And if my negative stream of thoughts turn towards other people rather than towards my own failures and struggles, then, Holy Spirit within me, remind me that God desires mercy, not sacrifice. Help me think of other people mercifully, with the same mercy the Lord God Almighty shows me, his child.

One Novelist’s Long Journey to Publication: A Guest Post by Rachel Allord

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When my son was born fourteen years ago, I loved being a stay at home mom. Truly I did. And yet at the same time, something inside of me felt restless, like my creativity was slowly drying up. I figured out how to nurse with one hand and hold a book in the other and, consequently, read a lot of novels the first year of my baby’s life.

In time, I also rediscovered another longstanding yet neglected love of mine: writing.

One evening I caught a news story on TV about a high school girl who gave birth in the bathroom during a school dance, hid the baby somewhere, and then went out to dance again. The birth experience still fresh in my mind, this startling story prompted a lot of what if questions—a great place to start for a writer:

What if the baby hadn’t died?

What if the baby had been adopted?

What if the birth mother—thinking that her baby was dead—unknowingly met the baby’s adoptive mother? What if the two became friends? What if the truth came out? 

And bannered above all other questions was:

Is God’s grace sufficient to remove the guilt of even this sin?

* * *

Head swimming, I naively began to draft out what would become Mother of My Son. While my own baby napped, and while I could have been (should have been?) scrubbing my floors, I poured out my story, and it was so fun, so satisfying, and at the end of about six months I had a…. skeleton. The beginnings of what could be a great story.

After sending out my manuscript to garner a few rejections, I bit the bullet and went to a writer’s conference to “find out what those experts know” where I learned, as far as novel-writing goes (in spite of my English degree) I really had no idea what I was doing. So I went home, reworked scenes, fleshed out characters, asked for honest feedback, prayed for wisdom, got a few articles published, read a ton on the craft, and seriously considered quitting before I was in too deep.

* * *

Ironically, adoption wasn’t even a blink on my radar when I began writing Mother of My Son. But life can be funny. My husband and I encountered secondary infertility and ultimately flew to China to adopt the sweetest baby girl ever. Life was full and wonderful and I set my story aside and didn’t look at it for three years.

But I missed it.

I missed the discovery—what will these half-baked characters of mine do next? I missed creating. Especially now since I was bolstered with experiences to flavor my story, and clarity that only comes with time.

So in the nooks and crannies of motherhood and ministry, I rolled up my sleeves and quietly went back to work, letting our family’s adoption story flavor my work. Mother of My Son is not autobiographical but it does contain a big chunk of my heart. Some of my characters seemed far removed from me, like Amber, who leaves her newborn beside a dumpster. I had not walked in her shoes. So I got really quiet and listened, to her and to women who’d tread similar dark and desperate places. And I prayed and prayed and prayed for understanding and discovered that I was not so far removed from her as I had thought- we’ve all felt desperate at one time or another. We all have things in our past we wish we could undo.

Life carried on. My children grew. I kept writing. I studied my favorite authors. I sought feedback. I quit. A week later I unquit.

And as I plodded on, I realized a hard truth: getting my book published was my goal, not a promise from God. I didn’t want to be consumed with this crazy pipe-dream and get stuck in the what ifs and if only. I didn’t want to miss out on moments of my life while I was pining away for something that might never be. Was I “only” supposed to write for my church, my community, and magazines? And if so, would that be enough?

Yes!

I did not arrive there easily but yes; it would be enough. If that were what God had for my writing and no more, it would be enough. I pressed in harder to the Author of all grace and unclenched my fist. I learned how to hold the dream loosely and move forward.

And then one day, twelve years after starting, after what felt like a hailstorm of no’s, I got a sweet yes. Yes, Pelican Book Group would like to publish my novel.

It’s delightful to have a long time goal realized, to hold my book in my hands, to hear readers say they, too, love my imaginary friends but all things—even good things this side of heaven—come with a flip side. Even happy endings include complications and frustrations and disappointments. This is life on earth after all and the stuff of this life cannot fill us up. God, The Creator who’s created us to create, is our sole soul satisfier.

Dreams clutched too tightly die and beautiful hands are open hands, open to the surprises in store for us, and to receive and pour out grace upon grace.

 

Rachel Allord

Rachel Allord

Rachel Allord grew up as a pastor’s kid, vowed never to marry a pastor, and has been contentedly married to her husband, a worship pastor, for eighteen years. She holds a B.A. in English education and is privileged to be both a biological and adoptive mother. Her stories and articles have appeared in MomSense, Chicken Soup for the Soul, and various other publications. Mother of My Son, her debut novel, released in May 2013 through Pelican Book Group. She resides in Wisconsin where she avidly consumes coffee, sushi, and novels– preferably at the same time. Connect with her at rachelallord.com.

Here’s a synopsis of Rachel’s novel

Mother of My Son: College student Amber Swansen gives birth alone. In desperation, she abandons the newborn, buries her secret, and attempts to get on with her life. No matter how far she runs, she can’t escape the guilt. Years later and still haunted by her past, Amber meets Beth Dilinger. Friendship blossoms between the two women, but Beth’s son is a constant, painful reminder to Amber of the child she abandoned. When heartache hits, causing Amber to grapple with the answers to life’s deeper questions, Beth stands by her side. Yet just when peace seems to be within Amber’s grasp, the truth of her past and the parentage of Beth’s son comes to light and threatens to shatter not only their worlds, but the life of the teenager they both love.

 

I Will Not Let You Go Unless You Bless Me

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I saw you in the middle of the night,

in the middle of my failure.

For twenty years had I striven with my foes,

seven years of hard work for Rachel…

but I was deceitfully given Leah,

whom I did not want. Another seven for Rachel.

Fourteen years, with nothing to show for them,

and then, six years of success

against all odds: Laban’s cheats,

his sons’ cheats, their animosity.

A most unlikely place to make a fortune,

and yet, I did.

 

And I escaped,

and Laban saw that You were with me,

and let me go.

* * *

 And now my brother, my enemy, Esau,

comes against me with four hundred men.

And he has good reason.

I have provoked his anger with my trickery.

I do confess it.

 

On what grounds then, can I ask you to protect me?

 

None, really, save your goodness.

* * *

 How I have wrestled for blessing with Esau, with Laban.

But one cannot trick for blessing, exploit, extort, or manipulate.

You are the giver of blessing,

And you give it freely.

 

I will not let you go, unless you bless me.

I will not take no for an answer.

 

Bless me, bless me indeed,

for that is what I have wanted all my life,

what I have wanted above everything:

Your blessing

 

Then the man said, “You have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome.”

 

Then he blessed him there.

 

 So Jacob called the place Peniel saying, “It is because I saw God face to face, and yet my life was spared.” (Genesis 31) 

How Circling Prayer can Convert a Vicious Circle to a Virtuous Circle

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Have you ever experienced a vicious circle?

You know: Feel sad. Eat chocolate or sugary treats. Feel hyper or aggressive. It wears off. Feel sad. And grumpy and defeated about the weight gain. Eat chocolate to help you feel better. And then…

Or: Get stressed and tired. Let things lie where they fall. House gets messy. You get too stressed and low-spirited to pick it up. Things get lost and replaced. You feel bad about the mess and the waste of money, and that it would take too much energy to invite your friends over. Tidying would barely make a dent in the mess, so you don’t, and mess grows. And …

Or: Wake late, keep looking at the time. The day is slipping away without much getting done, feel depressed and defeated. Drink coffee, get a second wind, stay up late, aimlessly surfing Facebook, blogs, twitter, newspapers. So can’t wake early the next day. And so…sense defeat through the day.

Very, very sadly, I have slipped into each of these circles for years, even decades of my life!! I do confess it. Thankfully, though, I am not in any of these vicious circles at the moment!

Drawing Prayer Circles: Ways to change a vicious circle to a virtuous one

 I am reading Mark Batterson’s The Circle-Maker. Mark talks about drawing figurative circles around your Jericho, the one dream you have longed for all your life, the dream your life has always tended towards, and pray bold, fervent, consistent prayers over it. Powerful prayers need to be specific, he says, just as powerful writing does.

I recently read a fascinating book called The Power of Habit by Charles Duhigg which mentions keystone habits, which set up a cascade of positive changes in one’s life. One of these is exercise, which is scientifically proven to make you feel better through the release of endorphins, so that you sleep better, work better, feel happier, and have better relationships. Other keystone habits, unsurprisingly, are waking early, and domestic order.

* * *

So one way to change a vicious circle to a virtuous one is to circle it in prayer–pray circles around it. The habit you want to change will be uppermost in your mind, and grace will be given you to make the tiny necessary changes, which will start a virtuous circle in place of the vicious one.

I have started circling many areas of my life in prayer— my husband, children, memoir, blog, writing plans, weight, home, garden, career, finances, love of travel etc.

And in each of these I am praying for a virtuous circle—where each action creates momentum and leverage, making the next virtuous action easier.

My Personal Jericho

Can you put a due date on the walls of Jericho crumbling? In Joshua 6, it was on the seventh day.

I’ve set a date for my Jericho to collapse—September 29th, 2016. It would be the day I first arrived in England, full of dreams and hopes and ambition, which have not been fulfilled, but life is long, and sometimes, God prioritises changes in you before he lets your dreams come true.

So these are the walls of Jericho which I would like to collapse by September 29th, 2016.

1)   I would like to finish my memoir, which is now in a polished second draft (while not neglecting my blog).

2)    I would like to get healthy. I am currently 84 pounds overweight, and I would like to get to a healthy weight

3)   I would like to get the house decluttered, with everything in its place, and everything not beautiful or useful donated or chucked. (We’ve been tidying and decluttering weekly since summer 2008, so have made huge progress on this).

4)   I would like to wake at 5 a.m.

Am I biting off more than I can chew? Who knows, but with God’s help, I believe the walls of this Jericho will crumble.

* * *

Synergy

And I hope these goals are synergistic, and will set up a virtuous circle in my life

1 Exercise will help me sleep better, be clear-headed for writing, and feel happy. It will, also, God willing, build up muscles which will boost my metabolism.

I am planning to continue losing weight through Dr. Furhman’s Eat to Live diet as a template (with some deviations), and have already lost 18 pounds on it. It is a nutritarian diet, so, God willing, I will continue to rarely be ill, and to have high levels of energy.

2) Waking early will give me more time to exercise, to tidy the house, and to write, and will give me an increased sense of well-being and shalom.

3) Keeping the house orderly and tidy will increase my shalom and mental wealth. And increase focus for writing.

4) Writing–well that’s in a category in itself! The way it could help my other goals would be through the happiness it gives me. Though Julia Cameron suggests that writing down your words daily helps you lose weight.

So that’s it. That’s the Jericho I am praying around. If you think of me, pray for me, please?

“More Beautiful than the Honey Locust Tree Are the Words of the Lord” by Mary Oliver

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1

In the household of God, I have stumbled in recitation,

and in my mind I have wandered.

I have interrupted worship with discussion.

Once I extinguished the Gospel candle after all the others.

But never held the cup to my mouth lagging in gratitude.

2.

The Lord forgives many things,

so I have heard..

3.

The deer came into the field.

I saw her peaceful face and heard the shuffle of her breath.

She was sweetened by merriment and not afraid,

but bold to say

whose field she was crossing: spoke the tap of her foot:

It is God’s and mine.”

But only that she was born into the poem that God made, and

called the world….

6.

It’s close to hopeless,

for what I want to say the red-bird

has said already, and better, in a thousand trees.

The white bear, lifting one enormous paw, has said it better.

You cannot cross one hummock or furrow but it is

His holy ground.

7.

I had such a longing for virtue, for company.

I wanted Christ to be as close as the cross I wear.

I wanted to read and serve, to touch the altar linen.

 

Instead I went back to the woods where not a single tree

turns its face away.

 

Instead I prayed, oh Lord, let me be something

useful and unpretentious.

Even the chimney swift sings.

Even the cobblestones have a task to do, and do it well.

 

Lord, let me be a flower, even a tare; or a sparrow.

Or the smallest bright stone in a ring worn by someone

brave and kind, whose name I will never know.

 

Lord, when I sleep I feel you near.

When I wake, and you are already wiping the stars away,

I rise quickly, hoping to be like your wild child

the rose, the honey-maker the honey-vine:

a bird shouting its joy as it floats

through the gift you have given us: another day.

 

 

 

 

The Beatitudes, mostly, are things we do, rather than things we are. There’s hope in that!

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The Beatitudes are the blazing heart of everything Jesus taught. Once you’ve got them, once you’re living them, then you’ve begun to  “get” Jesus and the way he thinks.

And I am only beginning to!

For the Beatitudes to travel the longest journey in the world, from the head to the heart, is a life-long endeavour, a matter of stumbling, and getting up again, and I am just learning. I am a disciple, learning cognitively, emotionally, and experientially.

* * *

Mercifully, however, the Beatitudes are not ontological statements of reality. It’s not blessed are the beautiful; blessed are the brilliant; blessed are the bronze-skinned, which you either are, or are not.

Instead, it is blessed are the meek; blessed are the merciful; blessed are the pure-hearted, and these are things we choose to be and become through a series of noble choices.

We become gentle by choosing gentleness, again and again.

We become merciful by choosing to be merciful, again and again.

We develop the purity of heart which helps us see God by repenting of our sin, again and again.

Tiny step by step, we inch towards promised land where the meek inherit the earth, and we are shown mercy, and we see God.

* * *

How practically do we enter the blessedness promised in the Beatitudes? I guess it’s behavioural modification. If we are not merciful, we behave as if we are merciful. If we are not meek, we behave as if we are meek.

Blessed are the merciful for they shall be shown mercy, Jesus says. Tempted not to leave the tip after harried service? Leave it anyway. Tempted to let rip on anonymous feedback. Be merciful. Store up credit, and God, the great mathematician, will ensure that you will have mercy in your time of need.

I shopped at Amazon for years before I ever thought of selling there, and, often, voluntarily removed bad feedback I’d impetuously left, thinking, “Blessed are the merciful.”

When we started our publishing business, with just 1 title, then 5, then, 10,  too few to outsource all customer service (as we now do, of course), I personally sold books on Amazon, and often had to email to get negatives or neutrals removed. My success rate was amazing—as if the Universe, or God remembered all the times I was merciful, realising that mom and pop in their back bedroom wouldn’t be as efficient as Amazon, so why rate them that way. The mercy came back to me.

The Beatitudes are true, objective statements of reality, whether we realise them or not.

 

 

 

In which Jesus Promises Rest to the Meek

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I like Jesus’ great invitation at the end of Matthew 11:“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

I like that fact that Jesus suggests we learn meekness by observing and studying him. So, obviously, meekness is not a natural character trait like being sanguine, phlegmatic, melancholic or choleric, but a learned behaviour.

I have various mantras, what Gretchen Rubin calls “splendid truths.” (One of these, adopted from her, calms me down: “There is only love.”) I need to add one more: “I will learn how to be meek and humble of heart from Jesus.” Since, obviously, it does not come naturally!!

* * *

Why would one want to be humble of heart? Because pride is silly, narrow and self-centred. We are not focused on anything important, anything worth having, but merely on self, on how others perceive us, and treat us.

Why would one want to be meek? Because being gentle is the best way to be, rather than being proud and aggressive.

And besides, the meek inherit the earth: The value of meekness, even in regard to worldly property and success in life, is often exhibited in the Scriptures. It is also seen in common life that a meek, patient, mild man is the most prospered. An impatient and quarrelsome man raises up enemies; often loses property in lawsuits; spends his time in disputes and broils rather than in sober, honest industry; and is harassed, vexed, and unsuccessful in all that he does. (Barnes Notes on the Bible.)

* * *

So how does one learn to be meek? Practice. Practice meek practices.

So that is what I am training myself to do.

Let others have the last word. If someone puts you down, let them.

Overlook lots of things. Blow things away with the breath of kindness. When spoken to harshly, you don’t need to retort in kind.   Return a gentle answer or none at all when someone gets irrational through tiredness. This is particularly useful in family life: the blind eye and the deaf ear so that one can get on with one’s work.

Ignore negativity directed at you on social media as much as possible. Block repeat offenders.

Practice, practice, practice, one step after another, until all this becomes second nature!

* * *

Learn from Jesus how to be gentle and humble, and the prize is the rest we seek, as we work–as we sleep–as we relax–as we live.

Our souls are as rested when we work, or hang out at home, as they are after a week of beach and mountain walks, because we are choosing meekness which obviates conflict, and we are choosing humility, daily defining all our grand ambitions, and then placing them in his hands to grant–or not.