I sat down recently to watch the cinematic version Kathryn Stockett's novel "The Help". Set in Jackson, Mississippi in the 1960's, the film provides an account of the ignorant and hateful treatment of black maids working for white "homemakers" (term applied loosely). I found myself wishing that the portrayal was a fictional work, all the while knowing that these scars on the face of humanity were in fact historical.
My blog isn't a movie review website, but one of the scenes slapped me across the face with blunt truth so significantly that I can still feel the numbness. Towards the end of the film (semi-spoiler alert here), the main character, Aibileen Clark, one of the maids, is dismissed from her employment at the direction of the movie's caitiff, Hilly Holbrook. It is a moment when you find yourself longing for some type of judgment to be poured out against Hilly. A punch in the gut, a slap across the face, even hurtful words, something, anything that will hold Hilly accountable for the racially motivated hurt she had inflicted on so many. It is at that moment when Aibileen walks up to Hilly, looking into her soul while holding back the combination of tears and rage, simply says "Isn't you tired? Isn't you tired, Ms. Hilly?" before she leaves the house with flashes of pity for Hilly coming from her face.
Those words struck Hilly deeper than any physical blow could have. It was truth. The hatred, the sin, the constant concern with society's thoughts, the insecurities consumed every hour of every day of Ms. Hilly's life. Aibileen could see all of those elements bearing down on Hilly's soul. I don't know that Matthew 11:28-30 ever felt more real to me than when I watched that scene: "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
I know this blog doesn't have quite the impact if you haven't seen the movie. But even if you haven't seen it, you know that allowing insecurity, anxiety, addiction, hatred, loneliness or lies to occupy our minds is exhausting. I have been there. I know. The burden can seem unbearable. It is unbearable because we are trying, in vain, to accomplish something that we simply were not created to do-carry the burden of our sins.
FINAL THOUGHT. When our sins exhaust us, when we can't seem to get everything done, when we are worried about (insert anything) we have to remind ourselves that there is rest. When we take the yoke of Christ that is offered freely, when we study His ways, we will be filled with the gentleness of His love and the peace and relief as He carries our burdens for us. When we live that out, we simply aren't spiritually tired anymore.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Monday, January 9, 2012
Waiting...with a purpose
Once Christmas was over, we were "ready" for the new baby to come. We had made all the preparations. House was clean. Weather was great. My work was as caught up as it could be. Crib was set up. Timing couldn't have been better. Each morning I would wake up wondering if today was the day. Each day, for a long time, it wasn't.
I thought I was making all the necessary preparations, until I realized I wasn't. I was just waiting and being busy. Every day that went by after his due date, the anxiety grew. I tried to move past the lingering questions like "was the baby OK?" "was my wife OK?" and all the associated anxiety and fears. A few days past the due date, I finally realized that there was nothing that I could do to make sure everyone was safe, to make sure that everyone was OK, I simply wasn't the one in control. So I began making preparations of a different kind. The kind of preparations, that to be honest, had been lacking throughout most of my wife's pregnancy.
I was compelled by John 16:21-23 with Jesus' teaching to the disciples shortly before the High Priestly Prayer. The literal translation of the text is that "A woman who is giving birth has anxiety, but as soon as she has given birth, she no longer remembers the pressures because of her joy". When I read the text, I realized that there was no guarantee that everything was going to be "OK" by my standards, as I had been hoping for, but I knew that everything would be perfect, by God's plan, no matter what the next few days, weeks, or even years, had in store.
Jesus was using the story as an analogy for our lives on earth and the emotions we feel and the preparations we make. In the next sentence he tells us that the joy of a woman holding a newborn is a microcosm of the joy we will experience when we see Him again. The pain, the anxiety, the fear of life will be removed and we will rejoice with Him and that joy cannot be taken away from us. Ever. So I began to go through my days living as if Christ was truly my sole sufficiency, despite the anxiety. I began waiting for the new baby with a purpose.
Final Thought: I'm sitting in the hospital room right now as I write this looking at my beautiful (and over a week late) new sleeping baby boy and there is nothing but joy in my heart. My challenge now is to not forget the last two weeks and continue on with my life making the same kind of preparations for when I meet the King, as the time is unknown, but the occurrence is certain. Casting my fear, my anxiety, my hopes, my suffering and my dreams at the feet of His throne as I wait on that day with a purpose. All the while experiencing encouragement in knowing that the joy I feel today with this new wonderful creation of life next to me, doesn't even come close to the joy that awaits in heaven.
I thought I was making all the necessary preparations, until I realized I wasn't. I was just waiting and being busy. Every day that went by after his due date, the anxiety grew. I tried to move past the lingering questions like "was the baby OK?" "was my wife OK?" and all the associated anxiety and fears. A few days past the due date, I finally realized that there was nothing that I could do to make sure everyone was safe, to make sure that everyone was OK, I simply wasn't the one in control. So I began making preparations of a different kind. The kind of preparations, that to be honest, had been lacking throughout most of my wife's pregnancy.
I was compelled by John 16:21-23 with Jesus' teaching to the disciples shortly before the High Priestly Prayer. The literal translation of the text is that "A woman who is giving birth has anxiety, but as soon as she has given birth, she no longer remembers the pressures because of her joy". When I read the text, I realized that there was no guarantee that everything was going to be "OK" by my standards, as I had been hoping for, but I knew that everything would be perfect, by God's plan, no matter what the next few days, weeks, or even years, had in store.
Jesus was using the story as an analogy for our lives on earth and the emotions we feel and the preparations we make. In the next sentence he tells us that the joy of a woman holding a newborn is a microcosm of the joy we will experience when we see Him again. The pain, the anxiety, the fear of life will be removed and we will rejoice with Him and that joy cannot be taken away from us. Ever. So I began to go through my days living as if Christ was truly my sole sufficiency, despite the anxiety. I began waiting for the new baby with a purpose.
Final Thought: I'm sitting in the hospital room right now as I write this looking at my beautiful (and over a week late) new sleeping baby boy and there is nothing but joy in my heart. My challenge now is to not forget the last two weeks and continue on with my life making the same kind of preparations for when I meet the King, as the time is unknown, but the occurrence is certain. Casting my fear, my anxiety, my hopes, my suffering and my dreams at the feet of His throne as I wait on that day with a purpose. All the while experiencing encouragement in knowing that the joy I feel today with this new wonderful creation of life next to me, doesn't even come close to the joy that awaits in heaven.
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