These Broken Vessels 2 Corinthians 4:7 "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us."

     Nearly nine years ago, we welcomed Liam into the world. He was our first baby and we were absolutely smitten. Every sound, each expression, all of the movements that he made became occasions for celebration, our own private wonders over which to marvel. My feelings for this precious little boy were so tremendous that they overwhelmed my heart, my love so fierce that I seemed to stagger underneath its weight. I carry a memory around with me from that period in our lives: I am sitting on our drab, olive green futon, the sun slanting through the windows, bathing me in its glow. As Liam slumbers in the crook of my arm, I gaze at him in wonder and awe, and it seems that my heart is not large enough to contain the emotion that threatens to spill over. The size of my heart is inadequate, and I think that the passions within might eventually burst forth and shatter their feeble encasement into a million tiny pieces. This is when the realization nearly topples me over. It occurs to me that, in making the decision to have a baby, I have, in the process, offered myself up as a sacrifice. The love that I have for this baby has rendered me so vulnerable that it could very well be my undoing; for we live in a fallen world, and I can think of many things that could happen to this little life, many choices he could make as he grows, many different people he could become that would destroy me. My heart is in his hands.

     I had no idea at that time that my fears would be realized so early on in the journey of parenthood. As Liam approached the age of two, I began to suspect that many of his extreme behaviors were indicative of a problem. Fits of rage, meltdowns that lasted for hours, uncontrollable hyperactivity, wandering around the house at all hours of the night, a total inability to be redirected...these are only a few of the completely disruptive behaviors that began to prevent any of us in the home from living normal lives. We desperately searched for answers, met with specialists, read book after book, all in an effort to find explanations and parenting methods that would alleviate the torment that all of us, Liam especially, were suffering. The next three years were grueling. Going out in public became increasingly difficult due to the nature and length of Liam's daily meltdowns; his behavior created an extremely unhealthy environment in the home; we had very little emotional support; and, worst of all, we were helpless in the face of our son's agonizing pain and distress. There was nothing we could do to bring him relief. After three years of what seemed like constant hysterical screaming, little sleep, and dealing with so many of our own emotions, we were exhausted, drained, totally spent.

     Diagnosing mental illness can be very difficult, especially in children. So many behaviors overlap from one illness to the next, and there is no such thing as a test that can give definitive answers; much of it feels like guess work. Although Autism, Oppositional Defiant Disorder, and Early Onset Bipolar Disorder were seriously considered, after three excruciating years of pleading for help, Liam was diagnosed at the age of five with Tourettes Syndrome, ADHD, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. We made the very difficult decision to put Liam on medication, praying that quality of life would be improved for him, for his siblings, and for us. Over the course of a year, we tried several different medications, adjusting dosages and types, until we finally settled on an anti-depressant (for anxiety), an anti-psychotic (for the stabilization of moods), and a blood pressure medication that is effective in treating Liam's impulsive actions and hyperactivity.

     Although Liam's diagnoses continue to make life more difficult than it could be--there are always prescriptions to pick up and administer, trips to the psychiatrist, phone calls to insurance companies, meetings at his school, not to mention the multiple and creative ways that the illnesses persist in presenting themselves through my little boy--we have managed, during the last two years, to finally find some peace and stability. I have thoroughly enjoyed getting to know my son, the real boy who had become so lost in the maze of his mind that I had only been allowed small and fleeting glimpses of his beauty. He is compassionate, extremely curious, funny, highly intelligent, enthusiastic, a deep thinker, loyal; I call him my little old soul.

     I am so grateful for the precious time with Liam that these medications have afforded us. Even so, I worry about the long term damage that they could be doing to his body; I worry that, as he continues to rely on medication in order to function in this world, he is unable to learn how to cope with real life; more than anything, perhaps, I worry that he was incorrectly diagnosed and that we have needlessly been giving him potentially damaging medication for no reason at all; I wonder if, as he has no doubt matured over the last couple of years, he could now live a normal life without the use of medication. I hope and pray with every fiber of my being that he can. I convince myself that he has been cured.

     After discussing some of the previous concerns with the psychiatrist and then developing a plan, Tom and I made the decision that, as soon as school ended and summer vacation commenced, we would begin to wean Liam from one of his medications. Unfortunately, three to four weeks after the weaning process was initiated, Liam is once again taking his regular dosages. Upon removal of the anti-psychotic (risperidone) alone, many of the old behaviors exploded in full force: combativeness, meltdowns of extreme intensity and duration, anger, obsessive thinking... Considering that I had initially implemented the tapering of medication with such high hopes, I now found myself in state of grief once again over the loss of what I had dreamed could be.

     As I pondered the tremendous differences between Liam on medication and Liam in his natural state, I began to consider the differences between who I am when I allow God to control my mind, and who I am when I allow my natural mind to take charge. At nearly nine years of age, Liam is dependent upon medication for the emergence of his true self from the convoluted labyrinth of his mind; I have to rely on God and His control over my mind in order for my true self in Christ to shine forth.

      "Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God--this is your spiritual act of worship. Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--his good, pleasing and perfect will." Romans 12:1-2   Metamorpho is the original Greek term from which the English word transform is rendered and, according to Vine's Dictionary, indicates undergoing "a complete change which, under the power of God, will find expression in character and conduct."  It is powerful to note that this Greek word metamopho is also used in Matthew 17:2 to describe Jesus' mountaintop transfiguration before the eyes of Peter, James, and John. "There he was transfigured before them. His face shone like the sun, and his clothes became as white as the light."  The scene that enfolds is truly one of supernatural proportions: Moses and Elijah appear, a bright cloud envelopes the men, and the voice of God resounds from the cloud that enshrouds them. The word used to describe Jesus putting on His heavenly glory is the very same word used in reference to us and the transformation which we undergo in Christ. This knowledge nearly causes me to tremble. Those of us that have been washed in the blood of the lamb are truly new creatures; we are walking miracles.

     "You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its sinful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness." Ephesians 4:22-24 When we receive Christ as our Savior, the Holy Spirit enters us, taking up permanent residence and sealing us for the day of redemption. However, His indwelling does not signify our perfection as we continue to live out our existences here on earth. On the contrary, there now exists a battle inside between the new self and the old self. Our natural minds have a bent or an attitude that is hostile to the supreme authority of God; His way of thinking and being is alien to us.  When left to its own devices, I fear that the old self, or the natural mind, will win the battle every time. Pride, greed, and selfishness will take control, wielding their power over our minds, and our attitudes and actions will reflect what is nourished therein.  For this reason, it is imperative that we begin the process of dying to sin more and more as we also live to righteousness more and more.

     The Holy Spirit is required for the renewal of our minds. The Greek word that is used for renewal in Romans 12:1-2 is used in only one other passage:  "...He saved us, not because of righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He saved us through the washing of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit..." Titus 3:5  According to Vine's, this renewal is not a "fresh bestowment of the Spirit, but a revival of His power, developing the Christian life; this passage stresses the continual operation of of the indwelling Spirit of God." The Holy Spirit is alive and active in our hearts. He speaks to us, convicts us, illuminates Scripture, allows us to behold the glory of the Lord in our ordinary lives...We are utterly dependent upon the Holy Spirit for the renewal of our minds that so transforms our lives and makes us more like Christ.


     And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit." 2 Corinthians 3:18 The deepest desire of my heart is to reflect the glory of my Lord. Although I will not fully attain this goal until I meet Him face to face, I am encouraged to read that I am being transformed. Whereas I am a child of God, unblemished in His sight, true transformation is a process, a journey. I am dependent upon the Holy Spirit to accomplish this work in me but, at the same time, there must be a willing response on my part. To paraphrase Romans 12:1,  I have now been set apart for holy use and, as such, I must surrender my body and soul and make the display of His glory the aim of my life's work. The display of His glory in my every action becomes more and more natural as I pursue the renewal of my mind...through the reading of my Bible, through precious time spent conversing with God in prayer, through fellowship with those who also yearn to worship God with their lives, through loving and humble service to others, through the willful attempt to take my thoughts captive and make them obedient to Christ. 2 Corinthians 10:5b The more we gaze upon His face through this manner of living, the more we will reflect Him as we continually yield ourselves to His will and allow Him to renew our minds.

     During this past month, as we attempted to wean Liam from the medication upon which he relies to help him live as the best version of himself, I watched him regress and slip back into old patterns and behaviors. This former way of living is destructive to him; it is devastating to his relationships; it is poisonous. The differences between Liam on medication and Liam in his natural state are vast and plentiful, and this knowledge makes my heart ache. How much more does it anguish our Father's heart to see us falling short of the people that He knows we could be if we would just fully submit our lives to Him, if we would chase after Him wholeheartedly every moment of every day? Oh, that my mind's renewal would become of the utmost importance to me! "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart." Jeremiah 29:13


My Father, I thank you for your awesome redemption plan. I thank you for giving up your Son for me. I am in awe of the fact that your Holy Spirit is living inside of me, that He speaks to me, guides me, and reveals Your glory to me through Your Holy Word, through the people that You created, through this world that You designed. I am so grateful that Your Holy Spirit is continually at work in my heart and that He is in the process of transforming me. I pray that You would continue to give me the desire to pursue you without ceasing; that, more and more, my life would be a reflection of You as I surrender my heart, abandon my old self, and allow, no beg, you to renew my mind moment by moment. 




     

    
    

     Now that our busy week of Vacation Bible School is over and we've had a couple of days to recuperate from the hectic schedule presented by the undertaking of such a feat, I've had a little bit of time to reflect on some of the different encounters that I had with a few of the children. As my mind travels through the collection of sweet little faces and voices, one boy in particular continues to emerge over and over. He made quite an impression.

     It was the second night of VBS and I was standing in the gym, chatting with a few friends. Out of nowhere, it seemed, I was nearly knocked to the ground by this little blond guy who tackled me with a rather extreme vigor. With the aid of a running start, he had catapulted his body right at me and, upon landing, had wrapped his arms and legs around my trunk like a little monkey. There he hung, looking up into my face with an expression of total admiration. "You're pretty...I saw you looking at me last night when you were singing," he trumpeted. As I am currently the owner of a fairly serious back injury, one of my friends had to pry my new companion off of me and, acting as a makeshift bodyguard,  protect me from further advances the rest of the night. However, she was unable to prevent him from leaping up on me one last time and planting a fat, wet kiss on the corner of my mouth.

     As one might imagine, that interaction between me and my tiny admirer provoked a bit of laughter among some of the staff. My introduction to him was surprising and funny; none of us had expected to witness or be the recipient of such an overt display of affection. We discussed, in a lighthearted manner, what kind of adolescent this little boy might become, surmising that the pursuit of young ladies could very well grow to be one of his favorite hobbies. Although this fellow's ardor provided the impetus for some amusing conversation, I couldn't help but be moved by what seemed to be an almost desperate desire on his part for some love and attention. He was not going to be satisfied with a mere hug or kiss; he also needed to know that I had noticed him during the previous night's worship, that I had singled him out in my mind, that he was special to me. I think the little guy just wanted to be loved.

     My heart ached as I contemplated the yearning that I had observed in my new friend. His craving to be loved is a need, I believe, that is common to all of humanity. We all want to be loved, admired, and highly regarded. But sometimes this hunger can become a driving force in our lives. We supplant a healthy need, a need that God has placed in our hearts, a need that only He can meet, with an unhealthy obsession. We become consumed with trying to find meaning and fulfillment in any number of relationships and activities, many of which are not necessarily bad unto themselves, some of which aren't particularly edifying. Before long, if we're fortunate, we can recognize that the original desire to be loved and admired has metamorphosed into a hectic scramble to cultivate identities for ourselves. Maybe some of us become so wrapped up in our jobs, our roles at home, how much money we make, the toys that we own, our appearances, even the ministries that we perform, that we identify more with those personas, relationships, and activities than we do with our Lord. These identities are false.

     Conversely, maybe some of us have histories that we have allowed to define us. Perhaps some of us have committed sins for which we want to believe that God has forgiven us but, deep in the most hidden depths of our hearts, we don't really claim that belief as truth. Instead, we live each day under the heavy burden of that darkness, never quite able to claw our way out from underneath the oppressive load. These identities are also false.

     We know that, if we have believed in Jesus Christ and the sacrifice of his life on the cross, a redeeming work that only he could complete, we are God's children. "Yet to all who received him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God--children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband's will, but born of God." John 1:12-13 Can you even begin to imagine? This God is huge enough to have created the magnificent seas and mountains, the vastness of space, the mighty winds of a hurricane or tornado, the thrilling sight of the most stunning sunset; this God is also huge enough to have created the intricate workings of the eye, the delicate, papery wings of a butterfly, the exquisite beauty of an orchid, the feathery eyelashes of a newborn. This God is my father; I am His child. This is my identity. 

     "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." Psalms 139:13-16  God knit me together in my mother's womb. Not only did he create every physical detail of my body, but He created every aspect of my personality. He made me unique. He knows me and He knows me intimately. Every detail of the person that I am is subject to God's sovereignty and creativity. This is my identity.

     "And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge--that you may be filled to the measure of the fulness of God." Ephesians 3:17b-19. In reference to this passage, Matthew Henry says, "By the breadth of it we may understand the extent of it to all ages, nations, and ranks of men; by the length of it, its continuance from everlasting to everlasting; by the depth of it, its stooping to the lowest condition, with a design to relieve and save those who have sunk into the depths of sin and misery; by its height, its entitling and raising us up to the heavenly happiness and glory." God's love for His children is infinite, unconfined by boundaries of any kind. I am loved by God. This is my identity.

     We know that God loved us enough to sacrifice His son on the cross, but I think that sometimes we forget that He delights in us, that He loves to love us. "The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing." Zephaniah 3:17 As a parent, this verse reminds me of the countless times I have held one of my children in my arms and quieted them with murmurings of love as they cried over a cut, hurt feelings, or even a broken heart. I am reminded, as well, of the countless times that I have crept into the bedrooms of my sleeping children in the still of night. I can see the rise and fall of their chests as they slumber deeply after a hard day; I can smell the sweat; I can hear the fluttering of their breath; I can feel the baby softness of their skin. They are unaware of these precious moments, but oh how my heart swells with joy! It is a joy that is intertwined with tenderness, gratefulness, fear even...but it is joy nonetheless. And it is an emotion that has compelled me at times to cry, to sing, to pray. I know the power of these emotions that are provoked by my children, but I only know them on a human level. I have to believe that we can't even begin to comprehend the strength of emotion that God must feel for us as He rejoices over us with singing. I am in awe of being cherished by God. This, too, is my identity.

     Whether you are someone who finds your worth in your job, your role as a parent, your appearance, your money and toys, your abilities; whether you are a person who finds your worth in the sordid details of your past; or whether you are someone who finds your worth in both your successes and your failures...if you are a child of God, none of these successes and failures define you. Your identity is in Christ and you are defined by his death, by his loving and creative sovereignty over you,  by your relationship to him, by his adoration of you. Sometimes it's difficult to live as if we believe these truths. But I refuse to cheapen who God is and what He has done for me by trying to construct an identity for myself that is not born of Him. "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!" 2 Corinthians 5:17


My Holy Father, I praise you for your many beautiful demonstrations of love. I thank you for your sacrifice on the cross, for the creativity with which you created this world, for the grace and gentleness that you have shown me time and time again. I am so grateful that I can call you Father and that you know me as your daughter. I pray that every day, in every situation, you would impress upon my heart the knowledge of my true identity; I belong to you and I am so thankful!
  

     Five years ago we planted a cherry tree in our yard. We planted it with love and hope, anticipating the fruit that it would eventually bear, and thinking occasionally of the ways it might bring joy to our young family of four: sun-warmed cherries right from the tree, tart cherry pies tasting of brightness and life, memories of moments spent on ladder rungs harvesting what had been planted with so many dreams...We are now a family of six and, although our tree has grown in stature over the last five years, it has failed to produce any fruit.

     This evening, my husband took the kids outside to do some work in the yard while I prepared dinner. As I chopped and stirred and thought, the music of my children's laughter and shrieking provided a lovely accompaniment...until the front door burst open, slamming into the wall, and all four of them stampeded into the house. "Mom! Mom! There are cherries on the tree! We have cherries! Dad's getting the ladder!" The sheer intensity of their excitement sparked my desire to behold the fruit-laden tree, so I followed them outside. "See, Mom? Look, do you see them?" And right there, years from the day that it was planted, stood our tree, bearing clusters of deep-red cherries with a sheen that enticed. They were absolutely beautiful.

     Mama that I am, I certainly had to memorialize this special event by dragging out the camera and capturing a few moments: the tree and cherries themselves; the children all together in a group, looking up expectantly as Dad plucks the cherries one-by-one and drops them into a bowl; each individual child, cherry in hand, anticipating that first mouthful. A celebratory feeling enveloped our hearts as we came together in unity to share those first bites of soft sweetness that had been kissed by the sun. We were proud of our tree, and filled with a sense of accomplishment at having endured our wait with a patience that was finally to be rewarded. For me, this cherry tree was a symbol of life, growth, and the passage of time. I felt full.

    That feeling of satiety was to be short-lived. The contentment that had flooded my heart only moments before was quickly replaced by sadness. Due to circumstances over which we have had no control, we will be moving out of our home in the very near future. We do not know the location; nor do we know the timing; we do know, however, that this newly fruitful cherry tree is not really ours. In due time it will belong to someone else. An occasion that should have inspired rejoicing was now the cause of bitterness as I pondered the ironic injustice of our circumstances.

     I stood there in my kitchen, awash with heavy feelings of despair. And then I began to view that tree in a different light. Instead of thinking of it as our possession, as something that my family deserved, I began to think of the tree as one of the abundant gifts with which God blesses us every day. Oh the numerous and varying ways that He blesses us! No matter the circumstances in which I find myself at any given time, I have always been able to depend on God to bless me with a beautiful sunset, a smile from one of my children, food on my table, music that touches the depths of my soul...His blessings also take the form of certain abilities and character traits.  I began to relate the cherries on that tree to the many gifts, talents, and aptitudes with which God endows us. After all, "every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father..." (James 1:17) Every single positive attribute and honed skill that I possess, every pleasing aspect of my personality, they are all gifts from God; I cannot ask for, expect, or receive the glory for any of these blessings; all of the glory and honor must be accorded to  God and God alone.

      Furthermore, God did not endow us with gifts that we might please ourselves. "Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms." (1 Peter 4:10)  We are not the masters or owners of these abilities, talents, and character traits. We are stewards of these gifts with which God has entrusted us and, as such, we are to use them in ministry and service. This call to service should not merely stimulate us to act, but should also resound in our hearts so that the outcome is ministry that overflows from love. "If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing." (1 Corinthians 13:1-3)

     If I am serving in the church with the wrong motivations, then I am not truly serving God, nor am I serving my brothers and sisters in Christ; I am serving myself. I can only really use my gifts to the extent that I am removed from the giving. If my desires, pride, and expectations are entangled in the service I am undertaking, then I have become self-serving and, in the end, I am actually doing myself a disservice.  I am not the point. It is not about me. To God be the glory!

     "Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others." (Romans 12:4-5)  We belong to one another! If we are living out God's love in selfless sacrifice, serving one another with no thought for ourselves, the body of Christ can truly be a beautiful sight to behold. If  I am in intimate relationship with God, I am being prepared to nourish others from the bounty I am receiving on a daily basis. If I am giving to you with no thought of how that particular contribution affects me, I am truly giving. And, in the end, if you belong to me and I belong to you, I will probably be blessed more than I would have had I given selfishly or not given at all. How beautiful is the body of Christ!

     Yes, the cherry tree sent me off on a bit of a tangent! But I'm glad that it inspired me to think about the importance of the gifts God gives us, as well as the importance of how we use those gifts...not just that we are using them in service, but that the heart behind our contributions is genuinely loving and selfless. I do believe that, when the time comes, I will give my cherry tree away with joy; it was never my cherry tree to begin with, but was given to me as a gift. I will pray for whoever becomes the new owner and I will love him, her, or them. Likewise, the next time I sing at church, share a verse or some encouragement with a friend, tithe, sign up to help with a church event (and the list goes on), my prayer will be that all of me is stripped away, that there is no remnant left of my desires and my pride, that all that remains is my adoration of God and my love for those to whom I am ministering.

Dear God, my desire is that you, and you alone, would be glorified in my life. I ask you to reach into the deepest corners and recesses of my soul and strip away everything that is not pleasing, everything that is not of you, everything that is my Self. I pray that you would pour your love into my heart, so that it becomes the motivation for every service that I undertake. Impress upon me the knowledge of my ineptitude without you. For, without you, I would have no gifts to offer ; I would be worthless. I thank you for the way that you created me and I give my life to you in service. Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior!