Do Not Feed the Ducks!

   "Do not feed the ducks"  What?!?  I hate it when you are having a wonderful time with your kids, feeding the ducks little bread crumbs next to a beautiful lake when one of the kids spots the sign, "Do not feed the ducks."  Oh, come on!!!  I was happily tearing pieces of bread, laughing with the kids, making memories, not even thinking we may be "breaking the rules" when our ignorant bliss was interrupted by a child who put their reading skills to work.  Nuts!  This was a dilemma for a recovering-Pharisee who doesn't think it is good to break rules.  (I still twitch if we ENTER through the EXIT door at Walmart, but it's only a twitch instead of a full convulsion.  That's progress!)

This may be a simplistic example of the law and its power, but until the "law" is stated in black and white, how else do we know what rules we are breaking?  In Romans it says, "For I would not have known what coveting really was if the law had not said, 'Do not covet.'"  I'm going to agree with this statement, even when it comes to feeding the ducks.  Until we saw the sign, we had no idea we had done anything "wrong".  This story brings me to a fork in the road.

One path in the road would take us deeper into the story where I'd tell you how the story ended - how we responded to the sign and what lesson my kids and I talked about later than day.  It would expose whether we got "caught" ignoring the sign's warning.  Or maybe it would tell a simple, uneventful law abiding citizen's tale of heading home with half a bag of bread.  

But I want to take you down the other fork because it takes my thought the direction I want it to go. (I'll tell you what we chose to do at the end.)  I used to think being a law-abiding citizen was one of the most important things in life!  It was an obsession, especially in regards to my driving. Truly, I could not set my speedometer one iota above the limit without feeling guilty, so I would never do it.  But the toughest place to deal with Laws and Rules was with the spiritual rules that I thought were God's rules.  Some of you may have read my earlier blog Thou Shalt Not Chew Gum in Church.  Well, those were some of the rules I honestly thought were "laws".  And on top of all of that, I believed passionately that I needed to be perfect in them - not going beyond them one iota.  Like the verse says in Romans, the law (God's real law) was given so I would know I was a law breaker and see that I wasn't like Him -- perfect.  Oh, let me tell you, if anyone tried to be perfect, it was me!  And I totally couldn't do it.  As a little girl, I even remember sitting on my bed concentrating and determining to make NO mistakes that day.  Of course, I was bummed at the end of those days.  I couldn't even go one whole day without blowing it.

You see, I have started to learn that I can't begin to measure up and come out perfect when put next to the law.  But that's alright.  At least, it is since Jesus.  There is no way I could ever "measure up" to absolute perfection (aka holiness.)  So, he took my place since I couldn't do it on my own, paid all the "Fines" or "Judgments" the law had against me, and gave me His perfection.  He paid-in-full with His own blood - priceless!  This is what grace is!!!  Funny how it's still habit to want to stand next to the Righteousness Ruler and measure, somedays.  When I forget about his GRACE, this is when the guilt comes flooding in, because I go back to trying to "be perfect" on my own, and fail miserably. But just like the day I realized the perfectly folded laundry wasn't an evaluation of anything important, I have learned that God isn't measuring me at all that way anymore!  He isn't worried so much about whether I'm a law-abiding citizen as much as he wants me to be a Christ-abiding one.  GRACE...His grace, the saving grace I love!

And the ducks...they did get fed - well!  I'm sure those duck signs aren't "law", but more along the idea of what Captain Barbossa says in Pirates of the Caribbean, "...they're more like 'guidelines'". 

Guilt and Mismatched Socks

The number one emotion that dominated me while I still lived in the bondage of legalism was GUILT.  I felt guilty all the time!  Guilty for not being a better wife.  Guilty that I wasn't a perfect mom.  Guilt because I couldn't give more time and commitment to people and church stuff.  Guilt, that I wasn't more disciplined in everything from my health, reading, art, studying, cooking, yard work, flossing, cleaning...you name it, I was wallowing in guilt because I wasn't reaching perfection in any of these areas.

I didn't understand how much I'd let perfection rule me.  Even when I'd read a verse like, "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me," I'd hear that through the filter of guilt.  I'd hear these words rattle around in my head, "You can do this, you can do this, you can do this..."  and I totally left off the part the second half, "...through Christ!"  I expected to be able to do it all, to perfection.

The maxim "Nothing but Perfection" may be                                              spelled P A R A L Y S I S.                     -Winston Churchill


I believe part of the reason I had a hard time keeping my home neat and tidy was tied to this perfection. If I couldn't get it done to perfection, I'd just let it set because to leave it half way done was worse to me than just not starting it.  Paralysis.  My laundry would pile up because I assumed I needed to be able to wash and dry every load, fold them all-to perfection!-socks, underwear, shirts, all folded exactly the same size with no wrinkles, and tuck them away into perfectly organized drawer.  It was daunting.  Actually, it was paralyzing.

Daryl likes to keep "special things" in his top drawer and eventually, this became an issue, since his perfectly folded socks and underclothes didn't fit the way they were suppose to.  I told him that I wanted him to appreciate the nice job I did on his laundry.  He went on to say, very kindly (because that's just the way he is) that I don't fold socks and organize his drawer perfectly because it matters to him.  He said, "You do it because you like it that way.  You could just dump clean clothes into my drawers unfolded and it wouldn't bother me one bit."  I sat there with my mouth gaping, I'm sure, and my head spinning.  REALLY?

For the next week, I poured his unmatched socks and unfolded clothes directly into his drawers to prove to him that it was going to matter as soon as I wasn't  doing it nicely.  He never said anything!  He was right!  It didn't matter to him.  It was for me that I was doing all that!  Who knew that matching or unmatching socks could begin to show me that I had a problem with perfection.

I lived under constant condemnation from myself.  I wasn't measuring up.  But my laundry, yes my laundry, was the beginning to realize that I was measuring with a very obscure and improper tool.

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus..."  Rom. 8:1a

Refrigerator Blindness

"It's the little things that matter."  That kiss before leaving for work.  A timely phone call.  Sending a letter to a friend.  A smile. A cup of coffee while lending your ear.  Saying a simple "I love you."  All these small gestures add up to rich moments of  love. Definitely, kind things stack up and matter.  These little things are what make up everyday life.  But so are these little things.  Stomping down the stairs like a herd of elephants.  Not getting the dirty laundry into the basket.  Interrupting.  Nagging.  Nail biting.  Leaving lights on.  These, too, are all little things.

The sweet little things are sweet.  The other things... not so sweet.  It's those "other" little things that can steal away our everyday joy if we let them.  Why bring this up?  Once again - Grace.  Grace in the little things, well... it matters!  If something happened to Daryl tomorrow, would I really care which direction he had replaced the toilet paper roll or how he'd squeezed the toothpaste tube?  Nope.

The older I get, the less the nit-picky stuff matters.  I'll confess that one of the little things that used to drive me crazy was my family's Refrigerator Blindness.  They could stand at the fridge with the door wide open and ask, "Where's the ketchup?"  or  "Do we have any mayonnaise?"  I'd know it was right there, at the front of the shelf, in plain sight.  Yet, somehow, they just couldn't see it.  I'd sigh, roll my eyes, and say, "Really?  Just look.  I know it's in there!"  I would find that it irked me.  Not much.  Just a little.  But, remember, it's those little things that matter.

Need proof?

Chinese Water Torture!

Yep.  Chinese water torture is evidence that little things can drive a person insane!  When I let a little "drip" of something irritate me, it may not be a big deal...alone.  But if I let a lot of little things "drip" at me, it can bore a hole in my joy over time!  What's the solution then?  Decide it really doesn't matter in the long run and learn to laugh!  

A couple years back, I decided to turn the annoying Refrigerator Blindness of my Haidle crew into a joke so I could try laughing about it.  I started teasing my family that I was going to hide their Birthday and Christmas gifts in the fridge since they couldn't seem to see anything in there!  (Actually, Tate's 18th birthday is this weekend and I'm sure he hasn't seen the stack of presents I hid in the fridge because I put them on the top shelf, right next to the milk!)  

 For me, learning to laugh about this is one small "drip" that has turned from Chinese water torture to a "drip" that waters my growing love for my family.  This may be simplistic, but learning to laugh about the not-so-sweet little things has helped me be more gracious.  I know that if something happened to one of them, I'd miss their "blindness" and long to hear them ask once more, "Where's the milk?"  

Of course, stacking up lots of sweet little things is much more pleasant in the everyday.  Reality is the "other little things" will always be there, too.  It's the attitude we decide to have about them that matters.  I want to be gracious.  And besides, I need someone to laugh with! 

What is Grace?

In my opinion, GRACE is the toughest word in the world to define.  No, wait!  It's the most difficult word to explain.  There is a plethora of definitions out there, but let's face it, none of them do justice.  Let me expound on this thought through another example.  Kiss.  Define it.

Kiss-  to touch with the lips as an expression of affection, greeting, or respect

Challenge: married readers ONLY! (The rest of you...wait!!!)   Kiss your spouse when they get home today.  You already know, it will be a gazillion times better than what you just read!  Wow!  There's no comparison!  I can honestly say I don't long for another reading of that definition but I do long for Daryl's kisses.


Now, back to Grace.  Let's look at the definitions.

Grace-  1. the free and unmerited favor of God shown toward man
              2. elegance or beauty of form, manner, motion or action
              3. a charming or attractive trait or characteristic
              4. used as a title of address for a duke
              5. a short prayer at a meal asking a blessing or giving thanks
              6. a musical trill
Grace-  free gift

Challenge: (and you don't have to be married to do this one!)  Today, live with grace.  Show grace.  Enjoy God's grace.  Experience it!  Some of you may scratch your heads at this because, truly, this is not as easy for us to understand as the kiss.  I was there once too, and I certainly won't say that I am an expert on it.  Yet, I have gone from understanding the definition and quoting the verses "about" it, to experiencing it.  And like the kiss, having experienced grace, I long for it!  I love it!
     Grace must be pretty clear to God because it's all over scripture!  And there are so many places in the bible where an opening greeting is "Grace and peace to you from God our Father..."
Grace to you...   I look forward to writing more about my first understanding of real Grace!


What is Grace?  How do you explain it?  Can you put it into words?  If a child asked you to explain it, what would you say?
(Side note: Several people have sent emails mentioning that their "comments" on the blog have not come through.  I changed the settings so that anyone can comment now instead of just Google account members.  Thanks for the heads-up!)

Mad Flannel Graph Jesus

Have you ever held a baby in your arms, and had an argument with your spouse?  I have.  It surprised me when our baby's little bottom lip started to quiver and he quietly began crying.  My frustration hadn't been aimed at him, but he picked up on the tone of my voice, and it frightened him.

TONE MATTERS!  Tone matters.  Yes, our tone truly does matter. (sigh)

     The way we hear words deeply affects us.  When I listened to bible stories, I often heard Jesus' tone as very angry.  "Oh, you of little faith..." he'd say with arms crossed, shaking his head. That was the way my mind pictured him.  "If anyone loves me, he will obey my teaching," Jesus replied. (John 14:23)  Again, I felt as though his finger was shaking in my face while I read those words.  I don't know if it was my personality, strict household rules, church teachers who taught with harsh tone or all of the above, but I had a hard time not hearing Jesus sigh loudly, speaking with a "holy tolerance" only he could muster up after thousands of years of stupid people.  My sister and I have spoken about this many times over the years.  Why did we feel like we were always "busted" when we'd read God's Word.  Somehow, shame often showed up after reading it.  I discovered it was the tone with which I was reading it.  When the bible uses the words, "Jesus said," there is rarely any adverbs to tell us HOW he said it, so you hear his voice the way you perceive him.

 
    My imagination was fantastic!  I built butterfly cages out of wood and Saran wrap, had legions of animals that lived in my pretend world, and an invisible identical twin sister named Julie (she was the "good" sister).  But when it came to letting my mind conceive the truths and stories of the bible, I had already been told what it all looked like... Jesus was a flannel graph!
 

    He was stuck in the same position for practically every story.  You know the one, where it looks like he is preaching and pageant waving at the same time.  Now, I have to tell you, I chuckle as I write this because my mom loves flannel graph story telling.  Flannel graph is not an evil thing.  Actually, it can be a great tool.  But, I do think my imagination would have done a better job making my Savior seem more alive than "impersonal frozen statue Jesus."  Why is this part of my story?  Because many years of my impressionable childhood was filled with a strict, irritated, impersonal, posed version of Christ.  So when I was very little and would sing the song, "Oh be careful little hands what you do...for the Father up above is looking down in love, oh be careful little hands what you do," it scared me.  He didn't feel loving. I thought Jesus was tapping his sandal foot, holding his arm out and saying, "Behave Girl!"

Tone matters.  And this is frightening!

     Obviously, my story doesn't end there because I met God's Grace.  But many of us, for what ever reason, feel shame even after we are saved.  I know now, God isn't yelling at me through his Word.  Actually, I've met Jesus and his hand isn't stuck at all.  It has grabbed hold of mine, like a loving Father.

Candi... meet Grace

Free at last!  Free at last!  Thank God Almighty I'm free at last!  Once you've been set free from slavery, do you think anyone could pay you enough to EVER go back?  No way!!!  If someone offered me a million dollars today to live without grace, I would pass it up without a moments hesitation.  I am recovering from legalism... a reformed Pharisee...and have no desire to ever be a moralist again!

Moralist- n. 1. A teacher or student of morals or moral problems.
                   2. One who follows a system of moral principles.
                   3. One who is unduly concerned with the morals of others.
Legalism- n.  Strict adherence, or the principle of strict adherence, to law or
                     prescription, especially to the letter rather than the spirit.
Pharisee- n.  1. A member of an ancient Jewish sect that emphasized strict
                     interpretation and observation of the Mosaic law in both it oral
                     and written form.
                    2. A hypocritically self-righteous person.

I finally decided to start a blog about this journey that God is taking me on.  A road from Bondage to Freedom.  Law to Grace.  Why tell my story?  Because there is a chance that it may bring healing to someone who has been chained up by legalism or wounded by un-grace.  To give hope that there is real grace, love and freedom to be discovered!  I feel great risk in telling my story though.  To my "truth-wielding" friends, when you read words like this you right away assume I've gone off the deep end and that soon I'll be saying we should all hold hands, sing "We Are the World" and join one big universal church and toss out the bible.  And by saying this, my "liberal" friends may think I sound like I don't believe in God or absolute right or wrong anymore and that anything is acceptable since I've said I am "free".  I'm saying neither of these things.

But, I have discovered that TRUTH is to live with GRACE!  Because truth without grace, is law, legalism, external morality and chains.   Welcome to my story.  The story of how God set me free... twice!  Once from sin.  Once from slavery.