Blue Like Jazz

I'm reading this book called Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller, and once again, I am struck by how God is just present in everything I do.


I've been going to Bible study with my mom on Wednesdays, and it's a study of the book of Esther led by that lady Beth Moore. Now I don't exactly like Beth Moore. I think she acts too much, like she tries too hard to be so witty and cute and fashionable and everything else she's trying to hard to be. However, I am very much enjoying the study. I never knew Esther, never knew anything about her, and never knew the story surrounding her life. The study is broken up into weeks, and each week has a different lesson. Last week's lesson was: If you remain silent. It's all about how Mordecai became this person no one knew him as when Haman sent out the decree that all Jews in the provinces would be obliterated. Everyone had known Mordecai as this staid, quiet kind of fellow who simply acted as one of the gate-keepers. Even when he refused to bow to Haman, no one was quite as shocked as when Mordecai got the decree and proceeded to tear his clothing and weep and wail in the streets. Then he urged Esther to step out of her self, to quit being the queen of Persia and to be Hadassah, the little Jewess orphan, who was obviously set in that situation to help do the Lord's work. The point of the lesson was that they weren't supposed to go on living the lives they thought was theirs. God had other plans for them.


How often do we step outside of our selves to let the Lord do His work? In the ensuing discussion about Mordecai and Esther having a choice to remain silent, the ladies at the table, Lord bless and help them, proceeded to discuss how homeless people made them feel. I'm pretty sure it's safe to say that we don't like being uncomfortable, don't like that sense of pity or need or discomfort disrupting the lives we have set up for ourselves. When we see people grieving or in need, we have the temptation to rush through our help, or even to withhold our help simply because of our own judgments and assumptions. There's always that thought that the guy on the corner is probably just going to go spend my money on alcohol, so why should I contribute to his addiction?


I had trouble with that day's lesson because it seemed like these ladies weren't even applying the lesson to themselves. The Lord had lain it on my heart that I should speak up (after all, the lesson was "Lest ye be silent"), and here I was scared to step out of my usual quiet and shy self because I didn't want to be rude or impertinent to these ladies. But my heart was screaming, "How are you so sure of yourself, so confident in the person you have molded, that you can't even realize that homeless person was put in your life at that moment to teach you a lesson?" They were so sure of their attitudes and assumptions that they didn't even stop to think that they were the ones who needed a lesson.

The point of this post is to point out how much of a lesson I myself need to learn. The Lord has gone out of His way to make sure I learn this lesson, probably because of how selfish and self-centered I am. I have been struggling recently with the most self-deprecating thoughts about how ugly my attitude, and in turn my heart, is. I look back at most moments in my life, and I am ashamed at how I have acted or not acted. I have come to a turning point in my life where I can now begin to understand what it means to think of others. How sad that it's coming, to me, so "late" in life. But it is coming, nonetheless. I hear my mind thinking thoughts like, "What about me? Why can't mean people realize how hurtful they are to me? Why do I have to be the one to act right when she's going to get away with her ugly behavior?" And it took me a very long while to realize that I need to stop worrying about how others act and concentrate on how I act. My brother told me once that God doesn't like ugly, and as obnoxious as he was being to me, it's true. I have had an ugly heart, and as quick as I have been to find it in others, I have been entirely too slow to see it in myself. God sent me that Bible study, He laid it on my heart to think about it, He sent me an email (through the same obnoxious brother) about praying for the people who frustrate me because I don't know their situations, He sent me this book to read for my schooling because it's all about living a Christian life and really believing, not just saying and acting like we are, and He continues to send me a reminder of the lesson every day so far. When I get sad about the move to Austin, I only have to remember that I can't be so selfish. Sure, I've just started to blossom in the friends department, and am just starting to venture out with people I've met here, and it's kind of sad that now I'm leaving when I just started making friends. Sure, I have a family that I missed every day of the decade I was gone from home the first time, and I can cry myself to drowning if I think about missing out on Kaleb's school days or Matt's games or Bubba's school projects or Belle Belle's kisses. Sure, I could think about everything I would be missing when we move to Austin. But where is there room in those selfish thoughts for Brian, and more importantly, for God? Where am I giving Brian the chance to really do what he wants to do if I tell him how miserable I will be in Austin? How can I think that the life I have become comfortable with here in Lubbock is the only way to live? How selfish of me to think that this is not an opportunity, sent by the Lord Himself, to give me a chance to do His work? It's been two days and a half since that Bible study, and already, I've been given close to ten reminders of the lesson.


What I want to say is, isn't God amazing? No matter how insignificant I think I am in this world, working at my little job here in Lubbock, with my tiny dreams of writing a really good essay here and there, the silent member of the family who feels overlooked and left out most times, He still knows the questions and doubts in my heart, and He works for me. It's like I'm the biggest priority on His list, every moment, because no matter the fear or the question I have in my heart, no matter how silent I remain about them, He knows, and He answers. He always answers. The Lord is faithful, indeed.