Marissa Henley

Encouraging weary women to hope in Christ alone

Smelling like crap

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I have a friend, Sarah, who recently adopted her son from Ethiopia. That sentence makes it sound like such a simple thing, but it was far from simple. Sarah and her husband spent two years trying to adopt a son–hitting dead ends at every turn and having to start over countless times. As the long, difficult months turned into years, they kept pursuing their son. Finally, last month, they brought him home. And he has diarrhea. The crazy diarrhea that most of us would only encounter in our worst nightmares. The covered-in-poop needing-a-bath-at-2-a.m. variety that I think should earn Sarah the Mom’s Medal of Honor.

Sarah said something to me last week that I loved. (And don’t worry, friends, I’ll always get your permission before quoting you by name on my blog.) Of course, Sarah is thrilled to have her son with her and loves him immensely in spite of their poop-filled nights. And she said that this experience with her son is a great illustration of the love that God our Father has for us. We smell like crap to Him, and He still pursues us and loves us as His children.

It might seem a little shocking that Sarah thinks we smell like crap to God. (Or smelled like crap, if we are in Christ.) But this passage from Romans backs up her statement:

Romans 8:6-11 (emphasis mine):

“For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Since, therefore, we have now been justified by his blood, much more shall we be saved by him from the wrath of God. For if while we were enemies we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.”

I’ve never noticed before how in this passage, it seems that Paul has to ease us into the truth of our relationship to God before Christ. We don’t want to hear this, do we? But we can get used to the idea that we were weak without Christ. Although we were weak, Christ died for us. But then Paul says we were a little worse than that–we were sinners. While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Then Paul hits us with this: we were enemies of God. Enemies?!? What could I have possibly done to be called an enemy of God? And yet, while we were enemies of God, Christ died for us.

If the only thing separating me from God was a little gossip and a dash of impatience with my children, maybe I could work that out on my own–somehow making myself righteous in God’s sight. But if I’m an enemy of God, how do I start to fix that? I can’t. It can only be done by the blood of Christ shed for me, reconciling me to God.

How does this apply to my struggles as a mom? Although it’s been awhile since we’ve had diarrhea around here, I often feel disgusted by my kids’ selfishness, exasperated by their disobedience, and exhausted by their constant neediness. However, I am called to love them as God has loved me. That is, I am called to love them when there is nothing about them that is lovely. I am called to love them sacrificially and lavish grace on them even though they have done nothing to deserve it.

How amazing that God would pursue me, reconcile me to Himself through the death of His own Son, and adopt me as His daughter when all I have to bring to the table is my status as an enemy of God who smells like crap.

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Contentment

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This is one of the biggest things I’ve been learning lately. I’m excited to write about it, embarrassed that I am just now understanding these things at 30, and humbled to realize that I’ll surely have to learn it over and over again.

I’ve always struggled with contentment. (Can I get an “Amen”?) I’m in an unusual situation when it comes to contentment with money and material things, because I’ve had to go without for a long time, but I’ve always known that a date was coming (Summer 2007) when things would change dramatically, and I could have at least some of the things I’d been lacking and desiring for so long. During all these struggles, I have defined contentment as being content with what I have right now because I know it is temporary, and someday I’ll have nice things and I won’t have to be discontent anymore. I wouldn’t have come out and said it that way, but that’s definitely the way I was looking at things. A temporary lesson in contentment. Because materialism is where I struggle the most with contentment, and of course, we all know that once you have more money, you are also more content with your marriage, kids, etc., right?!? (I hope you’re picking up on the sarcasm there.)

So the magic date when all my dreams come true is approaching–really, it is here. Several months ago, I sat down to do a budget for our new life with a “real doctor” paycheck. To be honest, I was excited to see how much more I’d get to spend on myself. Eating out, not buying the kids’ clothes at Once Upon A Child–the whole big dream world. I was devastated to find out that once we paid taxes, tithed, and had a slightly larger house, the rest of the budget pretty much the same as it always has. It’s embarrassing to admit, but it took me a couple of weeks to get over it. I was reading a book at the time, loaned to me by my friend Amy about 4 years ago (yup, she knew 4 years ago I should read it, and I stashed it in my nightstand because I didn’t want to), called God and Your Stuff. The title says it all. One thing God taught me through that book is that if I’m not content right now (at the time, that meant being content with very little), then I would never be content with more. I got the fact that I couldn’t just keep looking to the future to solve my contentment problems, because the future never would. So I tried to just keep mustering up contentment for the present.

Now, several months later, I think I’ve finally figured out why my attempts to be content weren’t truly working. I could muster up some contentment for awhile, try to be thankful for what I have because so many people have less, know God wants to teach me lessons about how to handle money, blah, blah, blah. But it wouldn’t last, and soon enough, I’d be envying someone else’s furniture and being certain that I’d be so much happier if the only designer in my closet wasn’t the guy from Target.

Recently, I was searching God’s Word on a totally unrelated subject, and I still don’t know how it happened, but I came across a series of verses that totally changed my perspective on contentment. The verses were:

Psalm 27:4–One thing have I asked of the LORD, that I will seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the LORD and to inquire in his temple.

Psalm 16:11–You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Philippians 4:19–And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.

I realized that I was discontent because I am seeking after the wrong things. Instead of trying to be content with less stuff, I need to take my eyes off the stuff and put them on Christ. I’m seeking comfort, approval from others, an easy life, beautiful things, less worry about money. Those things will never be enough, no matter how much money we have. But if I’m seeking the Lord, a more intimate relationship with Him, a greater knowledge of my heavenly Father, to see His beauty as I worship Him–He has promised to give me all of these things with a fullness of joy I’ve never imagined. If I desire Him, that desire will be fulfilled–completely and eternally. That is true contentment.

This is a work-in-progress in my life. I’m still way too excited about that first “real” paycheck, and it is hard to not get caught up in my new house and all the great things I’m getting to put in it. Please pray for me that I will be seeking Christ, and Him alone, and that the stuff that He gives us will be used for His glory and not my own.

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A brief note about marriage

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I was listening to a R.C. Sproul series on marriage today, and I was reminded of a lesson that apparently I’m going to have to learn and re-learn a thousand times. He was talking about the marriage relationship and how the two become one flesh. He said that marriage is to be a duality, not a dualism. A dualism is two things that are in inherent, relentless conflict with each other–good and evil, light and darkness, etc. The word duality, however, comes from the words dual (two) and unity. So a duality is a plurality becoming a unity. It struck me that I feel like a dualism with Noel much more than I feel like a duality. So often, I think it is me vs. his work, my interests vs. his interests, my free time vs. his free time. I’m constantly battling him, trying to extract from him the kind of love I think he should be giving me to meet all of my needs. What if God could transform my thinking so that I put my interests aside and joined Noel as a teammate, not striving for my own comfort and happiness, but working together with Noel for the glory of God and the good of our family??

So how do the two become one? R.C. went on to talk about the end of the story of the creation of Adam and Eve. Genesis 2:24-25: “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh. And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed. ” Now don’t be nervous, I’m not going to get into physical nakedness here. That’s what the verse is referring to, but I think the application goes beyond that. What if I were to be completely “naked” with Noel in the sense that I let him into every back corner, every bit of ugliness, every aspect of my emotional life, spiritual life, pain, guilt, and fear? As R.C. said, this kind of vulnerability is only possible when we stand before God clothed only in the righteousness of Christ. And that truth of who I am in Christ allows me to let Noel in, knowing that he’s promised not to leave no matter how ugly it gets. This is definitely an area for improvement in my life, even after almost 9 years of marriage. (9 years?!? Have I even been an adult that long? How bizarre.)

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Failure

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(A side note–these first few entries might seem like nice, neat little packages of ideas more than real struggles–that’s because there are a few issues I’ve been grappling with for about 6 months that I want to write about. After I’m done with those, I have no idea what will come to mind, so there might be some more unanswered questions.)

I’ll never forget a conversation I had with a dear friend one day. She’ll remain nameless unless she’d like to comment and admit speaking this awesome truth to me. (If she even remembers!) I was telling her how every time Christopher throws a tantrum, it makes me so upset, because I feel like a failure as a mom. Honestly, I was expecting some reassuring words. Instead, she said that I am a failure as a mom. Ouch. (I promise she’s a lot nicer than she sounds at the moment.)

She went on to remind me of the truth of the Gospel, and what I took from the conversation is this: I am a failure as a mom, because I am a sinner. I fail my kids and my husband every day. But Christ lived the life that I couldn’t live, and because His perfect record has been given to me, I don’t have to run from the fact that I am a failure, try to cover it up, ignore it, etc. This may sound strange, but it was such a freeing conversation for me. Because for most of my life, I have been going to great lengths to avoid being a failure, and even greater lengths to keep anyone else from seeing any failures that may occur. Instead, I should be admitting my failures to myself and others, letting those failures point to my need for Christ and increase my reliance upon His grace.

How does this play out in my every day life? Well, most of the time, it doesn’t. I still have the natural tendency to shy away from failure whenever possible. There are rare occasions, which I wish were more frequent, when I can use my failures to point myself and my sons to my need for Christ. For example, one day Christopher was losing it for absolutely no reason, and it really set me off. I yelled at him to go to his room, so both of us could calm down. A few minutes later, I went up to talk to him and found him sitting in his room, crying. When I opened the door, he looked up and said, “Mommy, do you forgive me?” I tell you, I felt like the most worthless piece-of-crap mom in the world. I held Christopher in my lap and repeated the words I have told him several times already: “Christopher, I forgive you, and I need you to forgive me. I was wrong to yell at you, and I’m sorry. I can’t be a good Mommy to you all by myself. I need Jesus to help me be a good Mommy. I wasn’t letting Jesus help me just now, and I’m sorry.” I can only pray that God will use my failures for the good of my kids, to point them to their own need for Christ for their salvation and their growing in Christ-likeness.

2 Corinthians 12:9-10: But he [the Lord] said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

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