All I Need Is Jesus and a Good Pair of Jeans: The Tired Supergirl's Search for Grace (13 page)

We get to be different than the kings and tyrants in the world who make themselves feel big by making others feel small. Whoever wants to lead needs to serve. Whoever wants to be like me will endure suffering.

Now this is not necessarily what we supergirls want to hear. We are following Jesus, and we would like some perks. We would like the perfect marriage, the good job, the wellbehaved children, and some financial stability. We would like for our relationships with God and others to come easily. We would like to live tragedy free in a world without chaos, bad traffic, or bad hair. We will continue to follow Jesus, but we are a little anxious about the perks. Jesus is not so concerned about the perks that we think we deserve. The perks Jesus values are not the same as the ones we long for, such as a life without any hard things in it.

The perks in our journey with Christ do not include getting to the end of this life without having to struggle. The perk in our journey is that because of our trials and hardships, because we love others like Jesus did, because we choose to serve others instead of promoting ourselves, we get to be more like Jesus.

Paul puts it two ways. First in 2 Corinthians 4:8–10, he says,

We are pressed on every side by troubles, but we are not crushed and broken. We are perplexed, but we don’t give up and quit. We are hunted down, but God never abandons us. We get knocked down, but we get up again and keep going. Through suffering, these bodies of ours constantly share in the death of Jesus so that the life of Jesus may also be seen in our bodies.

This blows Mr. Lack-of-Reality Man’s theories out of the water. Life will be hard. In fact, because it is not easy, other people get to see Jesus in us. That is perk number one.

In Romans 8:16–19, Paul looks at our suffering another way:

For his Holy Spirit speaks to us deep in our hearts and tells us that we are God’s children. And since we are his children, we will share his treasures—for everything God gives to his Son, Christ, is ours, too. But if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering.

Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will give us later. For all creation is waiting eagerly for that future day when God will reveal who his children really are.”

Perk number two may be hard to fathom because it means we have to focus on something other than the here and now.

We have to realize that we are living our lives out in the light of eternity. Our reality is that this life will be difficult. That is not something we supergirls like to think about. But our other
other
reality is that when we follow Jesus, when we give up our lives to live the life he has created for us, we get to be a part of his family. Forever. On top of that, we get to share his treasures. Perk number three.

For God has reserved a priceless inheritance for his children. It is kept in heaven for you, pure and undefiled, beyond the reach of change and decay. And God, in his mighty power, will protect you until you receive this salvation, because you are trusting him. It will be revealed on the last day for all to see. So be truly glad! There is wonderful joy ahead, even though it is necessary for you to endure many trials for a while.

1 Peter 1:4–6

This life may not look the way we want it to look. It may not be full of comfort and ease. But Jesus offers us something we can’t get here on earth. We are going to have to hold out and hold on to him through all the crazy hard times until we reach his glorious kingdom. We may not get to sit in the fancy chairs right next to Jesus; that’s up to God. But priceless inheritance? Salvation? Wonderful joy? Those are some perks a tired supergirl can look forward to.

16

I DON’T LIKE
TO ADMIT I AM WRONG

I
know a lot of mindless trivia. Many fascinating details and dates, historical facts, and gossipy tidbits reside in the gray matter in my head. I enjoy sharing them with others, even if they may not particularly enjoy hearing them. I know that “tatonka” means “buffalo” in the Sioux language. I know this because I saw
Dances
with Wolves
six times when it came out. I had a thing for Wind in His Hair, one of the Indian warriors. (This was all pre-hubby, of course.) I know that in Iceland people get their last name from their father’s first name. My name would have been Susanna Richardsdottir (daughter) if I had been born in Reykjavik. My brother would have been Christopher Richardson. Interesting, isn’t it? I know that the Aztecs used cacao beans as currency, and their kings drank a chocolate drink that was thought to be from the gods. I, too, think that chocolate is one of God’s greatest gifts. These were smart people. I have many more nuggets of knowledge tucked away in my tired superbrain.

I am very sure of all of these bits of information. Pit me against anyone in a game of trivial knowledge, and I will spew obscure facts like a fountain. I will exult in it because I love being right. I love knowing that I have the correct answer hidden somewhere within me and I can trumpet forth with it at any moment. Now, if by chance, I get it wrong, which has been known to happen, I have a terrible time admitting that I am wrong. I don’t like saying those words, “I’m wrong!”

It comes much more naturally to say, “Yippee! I am right! I win! I win! I win!”

And even if you have proved me wrong, that there is another answer than the one I have given that is printed on the backside of the card you are quizzing me with, or you drag me to the computer and search seventeen different websites say that you are right and I am wrong, I still may doubt you. I still may feel that inside I am right and that even though you have the power of the entire World Wide Web on your side, you are still wrong. If by chance you convince me that you are right and I am wrong, I will probably want to throw something at you. Like that card you are waving in my face with the right answer on it. So once you have proven me wrong, you may want to hide yourself away for a few months. I don’t know why it is so hard for me to admit I am wrong, but it is. That’s just me. I guess I’m a teensy bit stubborn.

It’s no different when someone comes to me with an issue they have with me. Telling me that I’ve hurt them or questioning my motives for a certain action. It’s no different when I make a mistake with my little guys or do something that hurts Scott, not loving them the way I should. I don’t want to admit I am wrong. I don’t want to say that I blew it and I need forgiveness. Even when the Holy Spirit brings to mind an area of my life that needs working on or a relationship that needs reconciling, I would prefer he butt out. Really. I prefer to turn a blind eye to my sin. Then I just pretend I am right anyway. It’s so much easier than humbling myself, asking for forgiveness, and letting God shape me into the person he wants me to become.

We tired supergirls like to be right. We certainly don’t want anyone telling us how to live our lives. And if we have spent our lives thinking one way, we don’t want anyone telling us we are wrong. Really we don’t. We are not hankering after the truth at all costs. We would simply like to be left alone to do things our own way, even if how we are doing things will lead us to failure or heartache or mayhem. Even if you think you can convince us supergirls that you are right and we are wrong, we don’t want to hear it. We like things the way they are. And if you insist on proving you are right, we might throw things at you.

This is in part because of our love affair with Miss Right. We like her so much because she is always telling us how right we are.

“You are absolutely right to be angry with your husband. He made a mistake. You were right. Doesn’t it feel good to be right?”

Or, “They may think you are wrong. Maybe in their minds you are wrong. But really you are right. You are always right. Don’t admit anything. Stand firm in your rightness.”

Or, “Whatever you do, don’t examine your own motives or your heart. Even if you think you are wrong, you need to put up a strong front. If you admit you are wrong, they will just use it against you.”

More than anything, the Pharisees loved being right. They loved their traditions, their laws, and their sacred practices. They loved the Sabbath a whole lot. They went out of their way to never violate the Sabbath. And then Jesus came along and started healing people on the Sabbath, for goodness’ sake. Right out in the open, he healed people. The Pharisees even suggested he heal people some other day of the week. Jesus offended their law-abiding sensibilities. It came to a head when Jesus healed a man who had been blind from birth. His friends took him to see the Pharisees. And it just so happened that Jesus had healed him on, you guessed it, the Sabbath.

The Pharisees asked the man all about it. So he told them, “He smoothed the mud over my eyes, and when it was washed away, I could see!”

Some of the Pharisees said, “This man Jesus is not from God, for he is working on the Sabbath.” Others said, “But how could an ordinary sinner do such miraculous signs?” So there was a deep division of opinion among them.

Then the Pharisees once again questioned the man who had been blind and demanded, “This man who opened your eyes—who do you say he is?”

The man replied, “I think he must be a prophet.”

The Jewish leaders wouldn’t believe he had been blind, so they called in his parents. They asked them, “Is this your son? Was he born blind? If so, how can he see?”

His parents replied, “We know this is our son and that he was born blind, but we don’t know how he can see or who healed him. He is old enough to speak for himself. Ask him.” They said this because they were afraid of the Jewish leaders, who had announced that anyone saying Jesus was the Messiah would be expelled from the synagogue. That’s why they said, “He is old enough to speak for himself. Ask him.”

So for the second time they called in the man who had been blind and told him, “Give glory to God by telling the truth, because we know Jesus is a sinner.”

“I don’t know whether he is a sinner,” the man replied. “But I know this: I was blind, and now I can see!”

“But what did he do?” they asked. “How did he heal you?”

“Look!” the man exclaimed. “I told you once. Didn’t you listen? Why do you want to hear it again? Do you want to become his disciples, too?”

Then they cursed him and said, “You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. We know God spoke to Moses, but as for this man, we don’t know anything about him.”

“Why, that’s very strange!” the man replied. “He healed my eyes, and yet you don’t know anything about him! Well, God doesn’t listen to sinners, but he is ready to hear those who worship him and do his will. Never since the world began has anyone been able to open the eyes of someone born blind. If this man were not from God, he couldn’t do it.”

“You were born in sin!” they answered. “Are you trying to teach us?” And they threw him out of the synagogue.

John 9:15–34

The Pharisees loved Miss Right. She was their best friend ever. They didn’t want to admit that there was the slightest possibility that Jesus could be sent from God. Here was this blind man, healed, standing before them, a testimony of Jesus’s amazing grace, and they refused to believe Jesus was the real thing. They didn’t want to believe this man would see. Except that he could see and he was schooling them in the things of God. He even mocked them, asking them if they wanted to be Jesus’s disciples too. You know they wanted to throw something at him. Instead they got so mad they threw him out of the synagogue.

Throughout Scripture, Jesus talks about the destructive behavior of the Pharisees. How they are blind, how they are like tombs full of dead bones, how they will be held accountable for their wrongdoing. Because their actions mean nothing without the soft heart for God to back them up.

They were all empty action and no heart. They were more interested in keeping the law than loving the world. And that went against all Jesus came to do.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. God did not send his Son into the world to condemn it, but to save it.

John 3:16–17

The Pharisees would rather pretend to be righteous than admit the fact that Jesus was right. And because they couldn’t trap Jesus or prove him wrong or make him act the way they wanted him to, they decided to kill him. Murder is always a good alternative to being wrong, right?

When we tired supergirls close our hearts to God’s truth, to his prodding, to his Holy Spirit bringing things into the light, we kill Jesus all over again. We go the way of the Pharisee, blinding ourselves to his truth. We kill his grace that lives in our hearts, we kill his ability to forgive us, we kill his willingness to move in our hearts and change us. We become just like those religious folk who say all the right stuff and do all the right things, but inside we become hard and dead and, of course, blind. Because when we are blind we can’t see what God is trying to reveal to us. If we can’t see, we have no idea where we are going. And if we don’t know where we are going, we supergirls can’t be following Jesus. And that’s no good. So it is our job to give Miss Right her walking papers. Admit we are wrong, humble ourselves, and ask Jesus to give us new eyes. And the best thing is, he will. It is what he is longing to do. When we admit we are wrong and say that Jesus is right, we give him the chance to breathe into us. To bring life into our dead rituals, our stubbornness, our longing to be right. We are given a second chance at living. We don’t have to be like the Pharisees. And just like the blind man who was healed, we get to sing Jesus’s praises, and with a super shout say, “I may not be right about a whole lot of things, but I know this: I was blind and now I see!”