My Troublesome Self

Friends, when life gets really difficult, don’t jump to the conclusion that God isn’t on the job. Instead, be glad that you are in the very thick of what Christ experienced. This is a spiritual refining process, with glory just around the corner.  1 Peter 4:12-13

Greetings from Asheville, North Carolina!

Asheville is up in the Blue Ridge Mountains, and Bellavista, Mom’s retirement residence, is built into the side of a hill.  Because of its placement in the hillside, parking is frequently an issue, especially during holidays when family members come to visit.

When I’m in the US, I live here at Bellavista with Mom, which is a very good arrangement for both of us.  There are a lot of nice people at Bellavista.  In fact, the majority of the people here are very nice, indeed, and Mom and I are friends with almost all of them.  But there are also a few cranks.

One in particular is always crabbing at me for this or that.  Yesterday he accosted me in the dining room and told me: “You parked in my parking place!  You’re young and healthy, and you should park at the top of the hill and leave these parking places for the people who don’t get around so well.”

The management has said again and again that there are no assigned parking spaces here, and of course, I hadn’t parked in a handicapped space.  I often drive Mom’s car, but I never park in a handicapped space if she is not in the car with me.  Plus this man walks without assistance, not even a cane, so mobility is not the real issue for him.  But rather than point that out to him, I just said, “Sorry, I didn’t know that it was your space.”

This man’s crankiness is famous throughout Bellavista.  Mom and another friend sat at a table by the fireplace in the dining room once, and he told her: “We always sit here.”  Knowing that there are no assigned tables, Mom smiled and said, “Well, have a seat!”  That, of course, made him furious and he went to sit at another table

When I told her about the parking thing, Mom went and asked the director for clarification.  The director confirmed that there are no assigned parking spaces, but that priority goes to residents—of which I am one.  Mom turned to me and said: “We’re not moving the car!”  So the car stayed where it was, close to the front door, overnight.

When I woke up this morning, my spirit spoke to me about what Jesus would do in this situation.  I knew:  Jesus would have parked at the top of the hill to begin with, being always considerate of others.  But I don’t want it to look like I’m catering to his bossy demands.  I knew that I should immediately move the car, but I didn’t want him to get that parking spot, hoping that someone else would get it, instead.

As I struggled with myself, I realized that the problem isn’t the cranky old man.  The problem is me.  Two years ago when I was back in Milan after a three year absence, I quickly became reacquainted with how rude people in the big city can be.  In particular, it seemed like more and more people were pushing to get onto buses and subway cars, without first letting passengers get off.  So I started gently pushing people out of my way when they tried to get on while I was getting off, grumbling to myself all the while.  Then the Holy Spirit told me: “It’s not your job to teach people manners.  You need to be an Ambassador of Christ, even in these situations.”

Remembering that lesson from Milan, I realized that it’s also not my job to teach manners to this man, but to be an Ambassador of Christ.  And what that means is to die to self.  The trouble with self is that I’ve lived with myself for such a long time.  I like myself.  I like getting my own way.  But getting my own way is often in direct conflict with obedience.

Obedience requires that I die to myself, pick up my cross daily and follow Jesus Christ.  I’ve been a Christian for 45 years, and I still struggle with selfish desires.  After all these years, I know that self dies hard.  Self dies one of those opera deaths—you know, the kind that keeps singing for another ten minutes, flopping and flailing about on the stage.  And just when you think it’s really dead, it comes back for an encore and another ten minute song.

 

Getting Over Myself

One of the hardest things to do when I pray, especially Centering Prayer, is getting over myself.  I wrote about Centering Prayer (also called Contemplative Prayer or Christian Meditation) in my recent post, Prayerlife Revolution: https://europeanfaithmissions.wordpress.com/2012/07/10/prayerlife-revolution/.  God showed me a handy tool, a place to put those pesky thoughts about myself that intrude when I’m trying to focus on Him.  This tool is The Table.

I wrote about The Table in the likewise named post: https://europeanfaithmissions.wordpress.com/2012/07/11/the-table/.  But in that post I didn’t give the full history of The Table.  I’ve actually seen The Table, or at least a description of it.  If you follow this link and scroll to the bottom of the last page, you can see a drawing of what The Table looks like:

EZEKIELS_TEMP25

The Table came to my attention as a rhema word that God had given me many years ago.  [A rhema word is a word from the Bible specifically for you.]  At that time my son was living on his own and experiencing many difficulties including losing his job and losing his apartment.  Without an apartment, he also didn’t have a phone where we could call him.  After not hearing from him for a couple of months, worry plagued me so badly that I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t function.

Early one morning after another sleepless night I was having my regular Bible and prayer time.  At the time I was reading through the Bible for the sixth or seventh time, so that day’s passage was one I had read before.  It was in Ezekiel, where the angel is leading Ezekiel through the Temple in Heaven.  The angel is measuring and explaining everything, and Ezekiel is writing it all down.  Then in chapter 41 they enter the Holy of Holies where there is a wooden altar.  In verse 22 the angel says to Ezekiel, “This is the table that is before the Lord.”  Those words jumped off the page, and God told me: “Put him on The Table and leave him with Me.”

It sounds easy to do, but relinquishing control like that is actually pretty hard, and in those days (about 17 years ago) my faith was still in its young phase.  When I finally did put him on The Table, I released him so completely to God that I literally left him there for dead.

Instantly, peace flooded my heart.  Every time I started to worry again, I put him back on The Table.  A few days later, he finally called, with the news that he had gotten a job and found a place to live.

The Table has become my place to put those things that plague me: worries, people I love, and all the things that are out of my control.  When I have thoughts that pester me and try to draw my attention away from God, I do two things simultaneously:

1. I softly sing the chorus to “I stand in Awe of You” (http://www.lyricstime.com/hillsong-i-stand-in-awe-of-you-lyrics.html), which helps get my focus back to God
2. I put the distracting thought on The Table

Distracting thoughts are almost always focused on myself.  Lately, I’ve gotten a few prophecies from various sources, saying the same thing: get over yourself.  If you want to receive more from God, get over yourself.

I don’t just want to receive more from God, I want it ALL.  The Table is full of blessings, healing, renewed relationships, guidance, provision, etc.  God is in each gift that is on The Table.  He is on The Table.  We are invited to come take whatever we need from The Table.  And The Table is also a place where we can leave those worries, people, and thoughts that trouble us—a place to get over ourselves.  So for me, The Table is also where I can get over myself.

God is good!