Should you "live your own truth?"

This past week, I heard a commencement speaker expound on the need to “live your own truth” instead of the truth assigned to you by others.  There was much in his speech with which I agreed.  I do believe you should not let other people define or limit you.  You should not allow others to emphasize your weaknesses and pigeon-hole you as someone who can only do this and not that.  It is healthy to enjoy your accomplishments and set goals which push you past previous limits.

But…

That is NOT the same thing as living your own truth.  How on earth do any of us figure out what our own truth is?  What if we are deluded?  What if our upbringing and prior experiences have impacted us in such subtle ways that we don’t even realize that our truth is really a composite of the truth of others?  As I was growing up, my father repeatedly told me I was fat and stupid.  I believe he loved me and that he had no idea how his words…which he thought were teasing…were affecting me.  I knew enough to reject the “stupid” part, since I had a habit of being at the top of my class, but I bought into the “fat” description.  I felt awkward about my body, insecure about the way I moved, and the way I looked.  It took me years away from home to get over that.  I didn’t even know I was living something other than my own truth.

The healing thing for me was the realization that I could live, not my own truth, but God’s truth about me.  I began relying on the fact that God has created each of us uniquely and specially, and that He loves us individually.  I’m not talking about “God loves mankind.”  I am talking about “God loves me.”  When I accepted Jesus into my life as my personal Savior, I became a child of the King.  He has a plan for me.  As I seek to follow Him, He will give me an assignment…a job that I am better suited for than anyone else.  This is not an ego-trip which involves living my own truth.  This is absolute confidence in His love for me and His desire to see me fulfilled.  I want to live His TRUTH.  

Why would I short-change myself by living my own truth when I can live His?

Anticipation

In anticipation, I wait each spring.

A tree now covered with dull buds.

Holds a promise of brilliant color,

Pink and magenta soon to appear.

A few warm sunny days away,

I will stare in wonder at its beauty.

A thrilling transformation will dazzle,

And take my breath away.

In anticipation, I wait each day.

A world terribly broken,

Yet holds a promise of redemption,

A champion soon to appear.

A few days or years away,

Staring in wonder at His beauty,

I will be transformed into his likeness,

And breathe celestial air.

Don't Blame It on Science

I was thinking this morning that when an archeologist unearths the ruins of an ancient civilization, it would never occur to him to believe that it spontaneously grew there underground.  He careful digs and brushes back the layers of dirt and discovers tools, utensils, walls laid out in logical fashion, a way for water to be obtained by the village’s residents, artwork the occupants have created and much more.  He concludes that thinking human beings lived there.  He assesses their degree of sophistication and marvels at what they created.

How on earth can we look at the world around us, and specifically at the human body, and think that it arose spontaneously from a swirling cloud and an organic soup?  The earth is fine-tuned to support life.  The human body is the incredibly complex culmination of life.  In every cell and the way in which it relates to the whole, we see organization, function and artistry.  It screams, “This was planned by an intelligent being!”

Of course, the problem is that if we admit to an intelligent creator…that is, GOD, we might have to acknowledge that we are in some way responsible to him.  Ah…there is the rub.  It is NOT logic or science that prevents people from believing there is a God.  It is the unpleasantness of admitting that he may have something to say about our behavior.  People want to be self-determining.  They do not want limits placed on their conduct.  God may have some guidelines for us to follow.

Following those guidelines would be logical, because the creator might just have insight into what is best for his creation.  But this is where logic is abandoned.  For some ridiculous reason, humans persist in thinking they know better.  If you want to ignore God, declaring that he doesn’t exist makes it easier.

So if you want to be an atheist or even an agnostic, fine!  But don’t try to convince yourself and others that it has anything at all to do with logic or science.  Admit that it is because you don’t want God to meddle in your life and decisions.

Engraved on His Palms

“I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”   Isaiah 49:16

Carved deeply into flesh,

Written in blood,

Painfully etched,

My name.

Who made these wounds?

Punctured deep,

Penetrating beyond the surface

Into soul and spirit.

What caused the nails,

The rusty nails to be driven?

Was it the sin of the world?

Or was it mine?

His palm outstretched as promised,

Allowed the engraving,

Of my unworthy name

For my redemption.

Impending Doom

The evening before last I had a sensation of impending doom…that is, I had the sense that something awful was about to happen.  This has occurred to me on a handful of prior occasions.  I felt restless and anxious without any apparent reason.  Nothing I could identify had happened to trigger these feelings.  I just expected that something would happen.

Yesterday Notre Dame burned.  A tragedy impacting people around the world.

But also yesterday, somewhere…

*a sweet baby was aborted

*a child died because of abuse or neglect

*a young girl experienced genital mutilation

*a teen overdosed

*a young mother was killed by a drunk driver

*undignified, dehumanizing slavery was imposed on someone

*a loving heart was broken by infidelity

*gossip destroyed someone’s whole social support system

*a diagnosis of a terminal illness brought someone’s world crashing down

This is the week when Christ must have felt the weight of future horrors.  He knew he would die and how he would die.  He knew that he would bear the weight of the sins of all of us.  He also knew that after passing through this hell, he would be victorious over death itself.  He knew Notre Dame would be built and that it would one day burn.  He knew each of the awful things I have listed.  He knew.  He embraced death to redeem man.

Now he looks at the evil in our world and grieves.  Each and every person can, if they make the choice, come to him for salvation and mercy and strength to face each day.  Redemption is available.  If we turn our backs, we will one day burn.  All our accomplishments can be wiped out as easily as any human made structure, no matter how ornate and imposing, can be incinerated.

Today may be filled with agony, but the resurrection is coming. 

New life is coming. 

Dawn is breaking!

Even so, come Lord Jesus.

Treasured Possession

You yourselves have seen what I did…how I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself.  Now if you obey me fully…you will be my treasured possession.  Although the whole earth is mine, you will be for me…               from Exodus 19:4-6

Although these verses were spoken to the Israelites through Moses, I believe they apply equally to those who believe in Jesus as Savior and Lord.  I have snatched phrases out of the passage to increase the impact of this message for believers.

As I look back over 74 years of life, I have seen what he has done!  He has protected and preserved me.  He brought me to Himself.  At an early age, He spoke to my heart and mind, so that even as a child, I recognized that my need for Him was deep and undeniable.

Although I have at times struggled to obey Him, full obedience has always been my heart’s desire.  He recognizes my frailty…He remembers that we are dust and knows our hearts.  I am His treasured possession.  He purchased me at great price.  I am amazed that He would pay such a price, and that He values me.

Everything belongs to him.  Every life exists at His will.  Every breath of every person on earth is granted by Him.  He causes breath to cease on His timetable.  This applies to the most beautiful, the most talented, the most intelligent, the wealthiest, the most athletic, the most admired by others…and to the lowliest. 

I want to be for Him, and I believe that is what He has promised.

Making a Wastepaper Can

In the fall of 1964, I was a student at a hospital-based nursing program in a Chicago suburb.  It was my senior year.  One of the patients I cared for was a real character.  His diagnosis was “fever of unknown origin,” but there was clearly a secondary diagnosis of dementia.  He said and did things which made no sense at all.  I’m not sure the poor old guy had any idea where he was.  I never knew what they decided regarding the fever, and he was discharged.

A few weeks later, I was scheduled to spend six weeks at Cook County Tuberculosis Sanitarium in Hinsdale, Illinois, to learn about infectious disease as part of my nursing education. We all looked forward to that affiliation, because the sanitarium was in a lovely rural setting.  The grounds were beautiful, and the food served in the cafeteria was a cut above normal institutional food.    

One of my assignments was on a ward where things were pretty relaxed.  The patients did not have positive sputum cultures, and most were up and around their rooms and dressed in street clothes.  No isolation techniques were required, and there were no critically ill or surgical patients.  Lo and behold, my senile old friend was a patient there.  Apparently, they had determined that the unknown origin of his fever was tuberculosis.

In the room across the hall from senile Old Guy were two men in their 30s who had been partners in an undertaking business.  They had both contracted tuberculosis from a corpse with which they had not exercised proper precautions.  They were jokesters and a bit flirtatious with nurses.

One day I walked into the elderly man’s room and found him sitting in his chair.  He had the wastepaper can from his room between his knees, and he was carefully tearing small strips of newspaper and folding them over the edge of the can.  I asked him what he was doing.  He replied, “I’m making a wastepaper can.”

Next, I went in the room across the hall to check on the two guys over there.  They were craning their necks trying to see into Old Guy’s room and figure out what he was up to.

 “What is he doing?!” they asked.  

With a smile and a shrug, I explained that he said he was making a wastepaper can. 

They didn’t need anything, so I went on about my business with other patients.

Sometime later, I entered the room with the two careless undertakers again.  They were both sitting in their easy chairs with their wastebaskets between their knees, tearing strips of paper and folding them over the edge of the cans.

They looked at me gleefully.

I was speechless.  I hooted with laughter, spun around and left the room unable to say a word.

Raucous laughter from their room could be heard down the hall.

I guess when one is confined to a hospital for weeks or months, there are a variety of ways to amuse oneself and pass the time.