i have come to hate the #blessed. if you don't know what a hashtag (#) is... don't worry. Jesus still loves you. just not as much as he loves me #causeiamthequeenofthehashtag and #iamHisfavorite. except i am not so gung ho for that cursed #blessed hashtag. i see it mostly on photos of happy families. wonderfully sweet children. looking so perfect in their easter outfits (that match. oh, i remember those sweet days. so do my children. in their therapy sessions. and nightmares. hence their therapy sessions. enough said.) #butilovedthosedays. i felt so #blessed. so #gotitalltogether. so #bestmomever. standing in front of those easter crosses filled with flowers. sigh.
but maybe i have the wrong image of #blessed...
“They gave our Master a crown of thorns. Why do we hope for a crown of roses?” Martin Luther
maybe a bunch of us have the wrong image of what #blessed really looks like. standing in front of flowery crosses... because we aren't reading our Bible enough. (that is certainly my problem.)
here is what Jesus said was #blessed (in matthew chapter 5 from the message...)
You’re #blessed when you’re at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule.
You’re #blessed when you feel you’ve lost what is most dear to you. Only then can you be embraced by the One most dear to you.
You’re #blessed when you’re content with just who you are—no more, no less. That’s the moment you find yourselves proud owners of everything that can’t be bought.
You’re #blessed when you’ve worked up a good appetite for God. He’s food and drink in the best meal you’ll ever eat.
You’re #blessed when you care. At the moment of being ‘care-full,’ you find yourselves cared for.
You’re #blessed when you get your inside world—your mind and heart—put right. Then you can see God in the outside world.
You’re #blessed when you can show people how to cooperate instead of compete or fight. That’s when you discover who you really are, and your place in God’s family.
You’re #blessed when your commitment to God provokes persecution. The persecution drives you even deeper into God’s kingdom.
Not only that—count yourselves #blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit me.
i can only imagine the #blessed that would have come if there had been tweeting during the ancient ages...
@josephwithswagariificcloak: thrown in jail. for resisting potiphar's hot and hot to trot wife. and for indecent exposure. #notmyfault #blessed
@jobwizardofuz: all kids and livestock dead. fortune lost AND i got a nasty skin condition now. #itchy #blessed
@virginmary: pregnant. not married. a bit of a scandal. #blessed
@thejewformerlyknownassaul: shipwrecked again (how is there wifi?) but #blessed
@peterhatesroosters: in prison. again. hope someone is praying. #blessed
@silasandsaul: guess where we are? PRISON. singing loud and proud. #blessed #letitgo
@johnlovelocusts: herod isn't really digging my message. #blessed
@noahontheboat: i cannot believe all these rabbits. #blessed #theyshouldmakeamovieofthis
last easter when i had entered the house of mourning for a very close friend who had lost ANOTHER son (one died when he was three. this one was a college freshman driving home for his dad's birthday) the first person i saw was this friend's mother. the boys' grandmother. a woman who i had known my whole life. i had grown up eating navy bean soup in her kitchen EVERY time she made it. because her daughter would call me when she made it. #nowthatisfriendship i saw this woman, this grandmother, this mother, this friend and i hugged her and had no words. but she had words. she came close to my ear and whispered them in a voice so quiet that i almost couldn't hear them. that was all the strength she had. and all that she could manage to say was this...
"He must really love us. Jesus must really love us."
and something in me wanted to yell...
what kind of love is that? how do we call that #blessed? to mourn the life of a young man who had the world by its tail? everything to live for? what kind of #blessed is it to lose a son?
the absurdity of what i wanted to yell hit me hard then. it hits me hard now.
that is a question to ask only the God who counted it worthy Himself to lose a Son. who slayed His own flesh. for our #blessed. so we could stand in front of a cross of flowers in lovely dresses. because He hung on a thorny, dry, dusty splintered cross. naked.
i am #blessed. even when He is the God who gives and takes away. ESPECIALLY when He takes away i am #blessed. because it keeps me at His cross. clinging only to Him...
though He slay me. i am #blessed. THROUGH his slaying of me, i am #blessed.
that is the Good News. that is the Hard News. that is the Only News from me...
I come, God, I come
I return to the Lord
The one who's broken
The one who's torn me apart
You struck down to bind me up
You say You do it all in love
That I might know You in Your suffering
Though You slay me
Yet I will praise You
Though You take from me
I will bless Your name
Though You ruin me
Still I will worship
Sing a song to the one who's all I need
My heart and flesh may fail
The earth below give way
But with my eyes, with my eyes I'll see the Lord
Lifted high on that day
Behold, the Lamb that was slain
And I'll know every tear was worth it all
Though You slay me
Yet I will praise You
Though You take from me
I will bless Your name
Though You ruin me
Still I will worship
Sing a song to the one who's all I need
Though tonight I'm crying out
Let this cup pass from me now
You're still all that I need
You're enough for me
You're enough for me
Though You slay me
Yet I will praise You
Though You take from me
I will bless Your name
Though You ruin me
Still I will worship
Sing a song to the one who's all I need
Sing a song to the one who's all I need