Life Happens…Especially in Exile

Originally posted at Living in Exile.

Dear faithful listeners,

Life has happened to your podcasters. I write to you from Middle-of-Nowhere, Kansas, as my David and I drive the final 300 miles of our move to Denver. A. J. will be sporadically checking his social media from Ohio, where his mother is very ill. We hope to be back to broadcasting next Friday . . . but life may “happen” again.

You expected to hear us tie up our exegesis of Ezra-Nehemiah today, so I’ll give you a couple of teasers:

  1. As soon as Nehemiah (cat) is away, the Israelites (mice) play.
  2. Nehemiah (cat) comes “back, the very next day. They thought he was a goner, but . . . he wouldn’t stay away.”

In chapter 13, Nehemiah has finished his mission in Jerusalem and returned to working in the Persian court when he learns that the Israelites are up to their old sins. He again drops everything to run to the next life-crisis.

2010 Nashville Flood in Amanda’s Neighborhood

In our fallen world, crises happen. In exile, we Christians do our best to plan our lives–be dedicated workers and loving family members–but sometimes life happens. I would hazard that those “happenings” are often God’s way of putting us back on His track and reminding us that He is the one in control.

This week, as you anxiously await the conclusion of Nehemiah’s memoir, ask yourself if your personal plans are aiding or inhibiting God’s kingdom work. Are you willing to drop everything and run back to “Jerusalem” where His people need you?

Moving on up–to the Fourth Floor

We’re officially moving West!

Remember last spring, when I told you David and I had decided to stay in our house? As usual God had other plans.

On January 2, we were told to sell the house and get ourselves permanently settled in our 4th-floor Denver apartment by February 1. As I’m sure you can imagine, this is not an easy task; and my work time is currently consumed by real-estate agents, stagers, photographers, nosy neighbors, and (eventually) buyers. After hours I’m touching up paint, shampooing carpets, moving furniture, packing boxes, and crying a lot.

The moving trucks roll in on January 22 to take us to Denver. Do you think we can sell the house in 14 days? I’ll take bets in the comments section below.

I Choose Heaven

The last time my David and I were in Nashville, my best friend loaned me 4 books–The Hunger Games Trilogy and The Devil and Miss Prym. Melinda’s words to me regarding the Paulo Coelho book were, “Just make it through the first chapters. I promise it’s worth it.” Knowing I was more likely to read the possibly-boring Coelho book if I did it before I launched into the certainly-entertaining Hunger Games, I opened it that night.

I was on a plane in my usual corner when I finished it. I’d spent a good part of the flight tapping David on the shoulder and demanding he read a poignant line here and there; his first moment of peace was when I closed the book and sat in awed silence for a good 20 minutes. I don’t know that any book has ever had that effect on me. It was both thought-provoking and affirmative, simple and deep.

The plot–a man comes to a sleepy village and offers gold to anyone who will kill an innocent person–is reminiscent of Shirley Jackson’s short story, “The Lottery.” But where her story reflects on the dangers of mob mentality, Coelho studies the effects of injustice on an individual. It probes the popular question, why do bad things happen to good people? He ultimately argues that the why doesn’t matter; we decide for ourselves how to react in all situations: we can be happy in “hell” or miserable in “heaven.” I agree with this overall sentiment. How many people choose a woe-is-me attitude in the best of circumstances? How many others choose to find joy in misery?

“Your problem hasn’t to do with God’s justice…it’s more the fact that you always choose to be a victim of circumstance” (The Devil and Miss Prym, 123).

The perennial example of this dichotomy is Job, whom Coelho references in his story. Coelho argues that in the Scripture, Job curses God for his misery and that God is okay with being cursed because He sins against us as well. With this interpretation I disagree wholeheartedly. God does not sin against us; it is impossible for pure Righteousness to sin. In Job’s story I look past the flawed arguments of all four of Job’s “friends” and see that there is no logical, rhetorical answer to the human question of why bad things happen. If ever God had an opportunity to answer that question once and for all, this was it. But He chose not to. Instead He reminded Job–in great detail–of His glorious and unique creation (Job 38–41).

Would you go so far as to call into question My judgment?
Would you imagine Me guilty merely in order to justify yourself?
Do you have an arm just as powerful as God’s
and does your voice thunder as His does? (Job 40:8-9, The Voice).

Literarily, God’s answer to Job is a non sequitur: He circumvents the question why? by saying, “I’m the Creator. I’m the Greatest.” Theologically, God’s response makes perfect sense. You want to know why? Then you have to know God.

As we grow closer to God and walk in lock-step with the Spirit, God reveals more about Himself to us and we can see His righteousness even in our pain. The Holy Spirit then molds our attitudes toward the injustices in our lives, turning personal misery into joy. When we choose to know God, we choose to be in “heaven” no matter what we are experiencing.

Do you think I’ll find The Hunger Games so thought-provoking?