The Truth about Fear

I can't remember where I heard this--whether it was in a church sermon or a book--but I can't get it off my mind.  It has to do with the same theme as my last post, so it seemed appropriate to share. 

The subject is the Israelites, as they are coming out of slavery in Egypt.  The tribe of Jacob (the Israelites) went to Egypt during a time of famine, when Joseph had become a high-ranking ruler in Egypt.  As generations passed, however, the Israelites multiplied numerously and the kings of Egypt forgot about Joseph, and out of fear of the Israelites' increasing numbers subjected them to slavery and hardship.  They were "oppressed with forced labor...they worked them ruthlessly....they made their lives bitter with hard labor..."  Doesn't sound like a very desirable situation; in fact, it sounds pretty desperate to me. 

And then the Egyptians started killing their baby boys.  Just as a mother, to have the joy of a new baby ripped away and replaced with horrifying fear--apart from the normal fears of healthy pregnancy and birth--that if my precious new baby so much as cried (which babies will do), someone might come and kill him mercilessly--that would do me in!  I feel like that alone would give me the courage to do whatever it took to gain freedom! 

But, Moses came along, and through a series of miracles and wonders, God delivered the Israelites from their oppression.  I'm sure it was hard work packing up their homes and doing all the preparation to leave for the long journey (they'd been in Egypt 430 years), but it's worth whatever it takes, right?

They got as far as the Red Sea...not really very far...when they met their first opposition: Pharaoh changed his mind and sent his army after them.  They had just witnessed a host of miraculous signs and wonders by the hand of God, and God's very presence had been traveling with them in a manifest form, so you would expect their faith to be strong.  But here's how they respond: "Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die?  What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt?  Didn't we say to you in Egypt, 'Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians'?  It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!" (Ex. 14:10-12, italics added)

WHAT??!!  Shocking, right?  It really seemed better to the Israelites to live under oppressive slavery under ruthless slavemasters without even the freedom to give birth...than to face freedom and become rulers of their own land with a loving, powerful God on their side?

In their defense, however, I've also experienced the other side.  The Israelites were obviously facing a significant amount of Fear, and Moses answers their complaints with an exhortation: "Do not be afraid. Stand firm."  I've recently started reading Max Lucado's book Fearless, and it's been astoundingly eye-opening.  I knew I had issues to deal with, but never, ever tied them back to fear; I never thought I was a fearful person, and in fact thought I was an exceptionally non-fearful person.  But Max Lucado explains how fear is the root of so many other issues in our lives (I highly recommend this book!):

• Fear corrodes our confidence in God's goodness and makes us question whether He really loves us.  It causes us to doubt, and makes our doubt turn to anger.
• Fear turns us into control freaks.  We become so insecure that we frantically try to control whatever we can: dieting, cleaning house, people, etc.
• Fear makes us get mean, because we feel threatened and cornered.  
• Fear makes us unable to love deeply, because love is risky.
• Fear makes us lose hope and give up.  It prevents us from dreaming wildly.
• Fear makes us forget the good things and the miracles God has worked in our lives.
• Fear sucks life out of our souls, steals joy, drains contentment, reverts us to an embryonic stage, creates numbing dread, paralyzes us with insecurity, makes safety our god and causes us to worship a risk-free life ("the easy life," perhaps?)

I just think of myself, and how my "Egyptians"--those battles I'm facing that seem so daunting and frightening--can scare me so badly that I forget the wonders and miracles God has done for me, I forget His goodness, and, instead of standing firm in faith, I angrily challenge God, "Why have you brought me here?  Do you not love me??"  As if it would really be better for me to hopelessly rot in my own slavery than to fight for freedom. 

I think, at least for myself, the slavery and bondage of where I am is familiar, and in that sense it is comfortable.  It's not comfortable in and of itself, and of course I would want change!  But freedom is unknown, it is expensive, it takes hard work, it is not predictable, and it doesn't allow us to sit around on our rear ends and mope.  So I keep thinking about the Israelites, and it brings perspective: Slavery, or Freedom?  The choice is obvious...*All it takes* is a face-down with that frightening monster named Fear.

Moses' words to the Israelites encourage me in my own situation: "Do not be afraid.  Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today.  [The Egyptians/ enter personal problem] you see today you will never see again.  The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still" (Ex. 14:13-14).  God is not asking me to single-handedly slay the dragon; He's simply asking me to not be afraid and trust Him to be strong.  And what a promise!  If I can be still enough to let God bring deliverance, I will never see this problem again!  Sure, there will be others, but that sounds pretty amazing. 

Lessons from a 2-year-old

A couple weeks ago, I’d had a crummy day and was complaining to Owen about it.  Jack (who is 2) was in earshot, and during a gasp-for-more-breath break on my part, he looked knowingly at Owen and said matter-of-factly, “Oh.  Mommy fussy.”  Of course, it threw me off track from my venting.  After I got over how cute and funny it was that he said that, it actually taught me a lesson.  And I’ve been ruminating over it ever since...

I know that I complain too much, but I don’t keep myself in check as well as I should because, frankly, sometimes I feel ENTITLED to be grumpy about my sub-par circumstances or the various annoyances I must endure from day to day.  To be honest, though, it’s not making me any happier to complain about it, nor anyone else, and what is it teaching my kids?  Is it okay for Mommy to fuss and whine even though it isn’t okay for them?  No.  It’s not.

After thinking about it more, I realized it's sad that I, or anyone, should ever feel entitled to be grumpy and unhappy.  Who wants to be that way anyway?  It's no fun!  And why, oh why, hold on to the terrible feeling as if it's an inalienable right?  The cause of the feeling is enough badness to endure, without prolonging it by way of grumpy attitude.  Of course, this is a basic concept that even a 2-year-old can understand.

Desert Wanderings (Part 1)

We rented a car this past weekend (sweet freedom!!), and frantically used every spare second of it.  Friday, we wandered the desert...probably my favorite geographical area in all of the Middle East (whether Israel side or Jordan side, both are equally amazing).  The desert...it reminds me of God, in that it cannot be captured or described, but its raw power leaves you gaping in awe and wonder, and its stunning beauty encompasses you in loving warmth so that all you can think about is its very self.  Words escape me for describing this amazing place; and unfortunately, words must escape the camera too, since it simply cannot capture the majesty. 

Here's an attempt, anyway.

Every time I visit the desert, I cannot help but ruminate over the ancient Israelites wandering around the very same region and what it must have been like for them.  Things are very different today, with roads and vehicles and frequent rest areas with food and refreshments.  I'm sure the landscape has changed some, too, but much of it also is similar to those long-past days.  I find the desert to be beautiful and welcoming, probably primarily because I know that I don't have to face its harshness: food and water are plentiful, I can travel by air-conditioned car, and when I am tired of it, I can return to my comfortable home.  I don't have to deal with inescapable, suffocatingly hot days, or worry about the lack of life-sustaining water, or the hazards of scorpions or snakes, or unwelcoming people groups, or the lack of food, or inhospitable environment, or any number of things they must have faced. 

Not to mention that they had left a rather comfortable home in Egypt where everything they could need or want was abundant, and out here, they were essentially homeless.  They had been in Egypt for 430 years--it was all they had ever known.  Sure, they were heading to the Promised Land, and sure, their extended wanderings were their own sinful fault...but I tend to think, if I were in their shoes, I would have complained just as severely.  Even though they were slaves in Egypt, they had gotten comfortable, and it's hard when you're comfortable (even if it's in a bad place) to have to move on to a new place.  While they traveled and wandered, they were aliens in a foreign land, so God reminded them frequently, "Do not oppress an alien; you yourselves know how it feels to be aliens..." (Ex. 23:9).  I myself have felt a deepened compassion for foreigners and immigrants in my own homeland after being one myself; it's hard to not belong.

So, that was a long introduction to get to my main thought...Along our drive we found a beautiful beach on the northern shore of the Dead Sea, and I wondered:  After wandering for generations through THIS...

 ...what must it have felt like to trudge over yet one more summit, and see THIS...

It must've felt too-good-to-be-true, life-saving, angels-singing-Hallelujah miraculous!  Even up close, doesn't the water just draw you in like the Sirens of ancient Greek lore?  I, for one, wanted to throw all to the wind and immerse myself in the crystal waters!  And then how their hearts must have sunk when they realized how brackish the water really is, and how it stings and burns any orifice.  Maybe it didn't happen like that, I'm just musing...but it reminds me of a similar story in Exodus 15:22ff. 

I have said too much, and only covered one stop along our travels.  More to come tomorrow...

The Lord is Risen!

He is risen, indeed.

Sunrise over Madaba

View from Mt. Nebo looking East

We rose bright and early at 4:30 am for a beautiful sunrise Easter service on the summit of Mt. Nebo, overlooking the Jordan Valley below and Israel beyond.  The kids, amazingly, awoke with sweet, happy smiles.  The view was spectacular, especially since the usual haze of late had mostly lifted. At the foot of Mt. Nebo is the geographical area referred to as the "Plains of Moab," the final Transjordan camping place of the Israelites before they entered the Promised Land to conquer Jericho (which can be seen directly across the valley).  The Plains of Moab are mentioned in Numbers 22ff, when the Moabites out of fear of the Israelites "hired" the prophet Balaam to put a curse on them.  Interestingly, some texts of Balaam son of Beor were found at the nearby site Deir-Alla.  You can read more about that here.  It was also on these plains where Moab seduced Israel into worshiping Baal and brought the Lord's punishment; and it was on these plains that God, via Moses, gave the Israelites one last "pep talk" and instructions for what they were to do upon entering the Promised Land (more discussion on the Promised Land in future posts--stay tuned!).  So much rich, interesting history to ponder while gazing at this landscape!

Plains of Moab: the flat, green area in the center of photo

People still camp out in the Plains to this day!

In the service, the message partially discussed the bronze snake of Numbers 21:4-9 as related to John 3:14-15.  Such a simple yet powerful and relevant story...To state it breifly: The Israelites behaved badly (sin), were punished (snake bites leading to death), repented, and were offered redemption (life!) if they looked in faith upon the bronze snake which Moses lifted up on a pole.  We, similarly, have behaved badly (sin), face punishment (death, both physical and spiritual), but if we repent are offered redemption (eternal life!) if we look in faith upon Jesus, who was lifted up on a tree when He died to pay the penalty for our sin.  To quote John: "Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the desert, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, that everyone who believes in Him may have eternal life."  Imagine if, way back then, someone was fatally bitten by a venomous snake, and had a chance to live, but needlessly died because they did not want to look at the exalted bronze serpent...How tragic!  Imagine if, today, we have a chance to live, but needlessly die because we do not want to look at the exalted Jesus...How tragic, indeed!

Jack, painting eggs

so pretty!

We had a fun egg hunt

The Easter basket I wove for Jack out of palm fronds

Happy Easter!

The Importance of Place

We are a nomadic family…living perpetually in a temporary state…not by choice, but rather by necessity, moving on with each new change of season.  Described like that, I guess we all are nomads, of sorts.  Life is fluid and changing, and we change with it, whether we want to or not.  As seasons change, so do life-sustaining sources, and we must forge ahead or be left wanting.  We all are nomads, especially as we believe that this world is not our ultimate home and we are only passing through.

This contemplation makes me think of the ancient Israelites passing through Transjordan: Why did 2 ½ tribes (Rueben, Gad, and the half tribe of Manasseh) choose to settle there along the journey and not continue to the Promised Land?  Was it strategic, to conquer more land?  Or were they tired of the nomadic life, and the land looked good for settling?  Numbers 32 seems to indicate the latter.  Did they miss out on God’s planned blessing by not continuing?

The logistics of our nomadic journey at the current stage look something like this: We lived in Buchanan, MI for 3 ½ years while Owen worked on the classwork and legwork of his dissertation (PhD in Ancient Near Eastern Archaeology & Anthropology).  We currently live in Amman, Jordan for 6 months while he continues to research, survey, and write under a fellowship with ACOR (American Center for Oriental Research).  When we leave here, we will live under the generosity of my family for an indefinite, temporary period of time while Owen finalizes his dissertation and defends (hurray!) and applies for jobs (double hurray!)…And then we wait…Trusting that God’s plan for us does indeed include a job for Owen.  At the point in which a job is procured, we will move to wherever in the world God happens to lead us.  In the field of archaeology, jobs are scarce, and first jobs often are not final positions but rather stepping stones—perhaps it’s the same in many professions.  As such, we anticipate a long future of uprooting and moving and re-settling. 

I am a roots-loving girl.  Roots are important for stability and nourishment.  I want my roots planted firmly in one location, and from there to spread deep and wide.  A good, solid, unchanging home seems quintessential to appreciating the rest of the world without feeling lost in it.  (I speak of my own experience; I know many solid, cultured people who had to move a lot in their youth.)  I feel so blessed that my parents were able to give this gift to me, and I still grieve that I will never be able to give this to my own children, geographically speaking.  I kind of love the tendency here in the Middle East for children to never leave home…once married with their own families, they simply add on to the family home rather than moving away.  The nomadic life is diametrically opposed to my inner make-up and preference in living.  There is something deeply comforting—vital, even—about having a place to belong, and where do you belong more than on the same plots of land your ancestors have habituated and toiled over for generations?  Memories radiate from every rock and tree and crevice of those places, from the very soil.  One would zealously do anything to not lose it or have it changed, because the land itself becomes like a part of your very self; it can be ripped away only as easily as your very soul.  It brings a deeper understanding of the tension in the Middle East, does it not?