JacQueline Vaughn Roe's Blog, page 5

Nothing Says the Love of Christ Like Someone Picking Your Nose

I feel as though I should have something very profound to say. Something meaningful, something that will encourage you to the depths of your being.

And I’m going to tell you about how my sister tried to pick my nose.

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First, you probably need to know that my sister, Joy, had a near-fatal drowning accident years ago while taking a group of students on a white water rafting trip on spring break in Costa Rica. She was a Spanish teacher helping broaden the minds of high schoolers. She was independent, she was beautiful, and she was witty. I don’t tell you this to make you sad, I tell you this so that you will understand that the lives we planned for ourselves are not the lives we are leading.

Joy now has no filter. Any of you who care for or know people with different cognitive issues probably relate to this. Nothing is off-limits and anything that passes through her mind will probably come out of her mouth. Remember how I said she was witty? She still is, though in a different way. If you follow me on FaceBook, you have likely laughed at one of our funny conversations, her literal interpretation of everything makes my life, as her caregiver, interesting.

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I’m so glad we can laugh together. And lately, with my debilitating migraines getting worse, I have needed to laugh.

In lacking a filter, Joy also struggles with seeing things that are out of place. Thus, the nose-picking. I have been sitting in church before when I can suddenly FEEL something coming. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her coming, her pink tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth as she concentrates and edges closer while the pastor preaches on the love of Christ. Perhaps I just have a smudge on me or — oh no! Is it a booger?? At church?! She’s coming closer and I must not make eye contact or she’ll start snort-laughing!

And it hits me, this is how Joy shows me she loves me. She is trying to fix me. (She doesn’t know how hopeless the cause is!) If she didn’t love me, she wouldn’t be working so hard to help me. So, strangely, her picking lint off my hiney or picking my nose is actually love.

Christ’s love is sometimes difficult to take, also. Sometimes it’s hard to spot. Like I said earlier, my migraines have increased in severity the last couple of weeks. I’m having a hard time getting out of the house at all and I’m tempted to despair, to give into depression. But I know better, I know I have to fix my eyes on Christ, he certainly knew what pain and hardship were and He continued forward, with joy of all things! (John 17, Hebrews 12:2)

[image error]You and I are loved so fully by God that He will allow us to endure hard things and become disciplined by them so that we will become more like Him. I want to say that I don’t need these lessons, these trials, these hardships, but I can’t say that and also state honestly that I trust God. Hebrews 12:3-17 exhorts you and I to not grow weary, even if we are in the midst of being disciplined. The Greek is actually discussing the development that must occur in order that a person can make right choices.[1] I have to tell you, in theory I want to make right choices, good choices, God-honoring choices. But . . . I don’t want to go through this. I’m sure you know what I mean, you probably have something in your own life that is difficult to endure, even if it is producing God-honoring character.

I want to want to be like Christ, but I don’t want to endure hardship to become more like Him. There, I said it.

But then, I think back to my sister: lovingly, hilariously reaching out to me to fix something because she loves me. I know it’s not the same thing as God reaching out, the analogy breaks down, but God uses funny pictures on this earth to express His love, to show how desperately He cares for us, to remind us of the cross and what it cost Him. I have asked Joy before why she does things like pick lint off of me, and she tells me, “Because I love you.” It is black and white to her, no room for ifs, ands, or buts. In her words and even the action of nose-picking, I can see the love of Christ.

Photo Credit: David Cohen, Mayur Gala, Ryan Whitlow

[1] William Arndt et al., A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2000), 749.

 

Growing in Hope

This world’s brokenness is near tonight. A misty rain has been falling as my prayer alarm reminds me to lift up a friend enduring hardships. I’ve just said “thank you” to another friend whose help has been imperative as I can’t leave the house to care for my family. Again. This pain seems endless. I know it will have an end, but it lingers and permeates everything.

I’m discouraged. I, the one who is about to self-publish an entire book on the need for hope.  Tears streak mascara across my blotchy skin and I wonder why I was never any good at pretty crying. In fact, I could win an #uglycrying contest. [image error]I remember how in the early days of our marriage I would hide my face from my husband so he wouldn’t see the reddened eyes, the quivering chin, the slobbery mouth, the snotty nose. But he would lovingly pull me to him, uncover my face so I could see his love and his hope for me. He wanted me to allow myself to be held.

Held by hope. Is there any such thing? In this rotten, foul world I can lose sight that God loves me. Sometimes I can’t see that He doesn’t want to just hold me, but is growing hope in me, a hope that won’t falter.

After expressing how we have been justified before God through Jesus, Paul wrote how we can persevere in faith, continue in grace, and how we can hope in God’s glory in this seemingly hopeless world:

. . . we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. Romans 5:3b-5 (ESV)

Though the apostle Paul was specifically talking about sufferings, or tribulations that were caused by persecution, the translation of the Greek is talking about trouble stemming from outer circumstances (William Arndt, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature). I feel most of us, even those of us not suffering persecution as the early church was, can learn a great deal from this passage so that we too can boast in the glory of God and allow Him to use difficult things He allows in our lives to produce endurance, which produces character, which produces hope.

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If I think of rejoicing as enjoying my suffering, I lose my way. If I think of rejoicing in my difficult circumstance as boasting in God, I start to see Him. The truth is, I don’t really know what these tears mean in view of eternity, I live right here and I can’t quite envision beyond now. I do know from past experience, there is something here, something bigger than what I can see. Even in my discouraged state, I feel urged on by the Holy Spirit to stand, to keep living and breathing and trusting. He is teaching me and so many of us endurance and character. As He does so, I have this confident expectation (sounds like faith, doesn’t it?) and that is the hope that doesn’t put us to shame, or doesn’t disappoint according to the New American Standard Bible.

I have a friend who uses her social media platform to constantly brag on God in the midst of her hard circumstances. I have another friend who uses the hard things she has gone through to be more compassionate to others and serve them better. I find myself praying more diligently, something I can do even when the pain is pressing in. I also find when I begin praying, I often begin confessing my fears, and praising His goodness. Suddenly, I am drawn to hope. Even though I can’t see it, I am sure of what is coming beyond this moment.

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I know. I know that whatever you are going through right now may feel difficult, but what if we choose to trust that He is doing something we can’t see (2 Corinthians 4:16-18) and start to hope in Him? What if we allow Him to work through us? What if we allow Him to show us how He is already working through us?

A precious friend of mine reached out to me the other day. She told me that God was already doing something, He was encouraging her through me. I was stunned, humbled. Her words reminded me to hope, to not give up. She encouraged me to endure. I pray you have someone to do this for you. I pray that together we will find a way to continue to hope.

Photo Credits: Arwan Suntanto, Manuel Barroso

Hoping in the God of Hope

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The tourniquet of pain tightens around my head as a fire engine shrieks past my mini-van. I begin praying aloud for God to help me safely make it to my next stop. Was I a fool to attempt to drive this morning? After days of being stuck inside, I felt slightly better. I knew I needed to fight against depression as well as the migraines, but was I wrong? Should I have cowered in a dark room or maybe stumbled around my house with my sunglasses on?

Hope can feel elusive when you are fighting what seems an endless battle. It’s easy to lose track of any advances you have made when you aren’t where you think you should be. I think a great deal of the New Testament was written by men who couldn’t believe where they were, who thought they should be somewhere else. The difference between them and me? I catch myself thinking I should be someplace better, they knew they deserved worse. How else could the apostle Paul (beaten, shipwrecked, left for dead, imprisoned — though not in that order) say that he had discovered how to be content in all circumstances? (see Philippians 4) How could he talk about hope with such assurance?

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Abound in hope? Will anyone looking at my weak faith say that I abound in hope? Lately, I find myself fighting against anger and bitterness, which feels ridiculous. I can see great improvements in this war against debilitating migraines compared to a few month ago, but I struggle with hoping that I will continue to get well. I struggle with how long I’ve been gaining and then losing ground. I have tried treatments, medications, even piercings, but nothing seems to help long-term. If I look to any of these things for my hope, I’m lost.

Over the last couple of years God has brought me back to my need to hope in Him alone. He has convicted me that He is the God of hope and if I will hope in Him, then no matter what circumstance I face He will hold me. I have to hope alone in Christ, knowing I may never get well, but that He is still good and in control.

I’ve written about this struggle and even now am preparing to publish Memoirs of a Headcase: Held by the God of Hope. I have wondered how I can share my story with you, I who falter and stumble? He has showed me that as I choose to hope, I am celebrating Him and what He can not only do in me, but what He can do in you and through you as well.

So, you find you are struggling with anger? Struggling with fear? Struggling with bitterness and wondering why God has you where He has you? You are not alone. I understand. He is teaching us here in this hard place. He has hope for us yet! Don’t give up, precious friend. He can teach us to be content and hope in Him.

If you would like an advanced copy of my upcoming book, please contact me at jacqueline@jacquelineroe.com

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Photo Credits: Aaron Burden, Fineas Gavre, Annie Spratt