Just What I Needed

Have you ever attended a church service and felt that God was using it to tell you everything you needed to hear -- good and bad?  That God had maybe even designed the service with you in mind -- giving the music team specific songs to sing and the pastor specific words to say just because He knew that you would be sitting in the congregation that morning?

Well, that was me this past Sunday.

First off, let me just say that it is always a joy for me return to NOVA and worship in my home church.  McLean Pres has had such a formative role in my spiritual growth and holds a very special place in my heart.  Worship there is always so genuine and joyous.  The joy of the congregation is literally palpable -- there are times that I can't help smiling, it's so infectious.  Coming back to McLean always feels like coming home.

Sunday, from the moment I scanned through the bulletin at the start of service, I knew that God had intended for me to be sitting there.  From the song selection to the title of the sermon, "Humble Joy," I knew God was snapping His fingers and saying Jessica, look right here.  Singing the following hymn brought tears to my eyes as the words so perfectly encouraged my healing heart of the Lord's endless provision and sustaining comfort:

Though dark be my way, since He is my guide, 'tis mine to obey, and His to provide;

though cisterns be broken, and creatures all fail,

the Word He has spoken will surely prevail.

Why should I complain, of want or distress, temptation or pain?

He told me no less:  the heirs of salvation, I know from His Word

through much tribulation must follow their Lord.

Since all that I meet will work for my good, the bitter is sweet, the medicine food;

though painful at present will cease before long,

And then, O how glorious, the conqueror's song!

(John Newton; Kevin Twit)

As I've been thinking over the events of the last few weeks and my subsequent emotional state, I've come to realize that it would be only too easy for me to console myself with pride:  "He's completely in the wrong, and I deserve better," "Well it's his loss" -- implying that I will always be the better catch.  And while all of these thoughts may or may not be true, it certainly makes me feel better to think them.  They stoke my ego and stroke my wounded pride, building up this idea that I am "better" and deserve "better."  My heart has been wrestling with how to avoid and subdue this false sense of pride.  Its such an easy pattern to fall into, and one that I am desperate to avoid.

So, you can imagine how fitting it was to open the bulletin and find that the sermon was on humility.  It was almost like God whispering to me, I know what you need to hear, dear one.  During the sermon, our pastor walked us through a series of possible indicators of pride, and with each one, I made a mental check mark of yup, that's me.  What a stark look at just how prideful I really am.  As my heart continues to heal, I wonder why pride was one of my default emotional defense mechanisms.  Did I really think that I was such a great catch that he would love me forever, despite my heart moving on?  If I have no desire to date him again, then I certainly cannot expect that he would pine away after me.  How unfair of me is it to wish that I had started dating again first!  And I cannot justify my own healing process to myself as being the better, more mature, more responsible method.  I am not better than him.  Or her.  And as such, I have no right to judge either of them, even when judgement feels so easy and seems so.....deserving. 

Do not judge, or you too will be judged.  For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. 

Matthew 7:1-2

I can no longer keep telling myself that I am in the right.  Because I'm not.  Yes, what he did hurt, angered, saddened, and frustrated me.  BUT.  I, in turn, have not responded graciously, letting myself succumb to pride and feelings of superiority, especially in regards to her.  And in my pride, I judge them both.  Certainly this is not the model of love and humility that Christ has laid out for us.  Certainly the very least I could leave him in parting is forgiveness and compassion, and an apology for my ungracious, un-Christian behavior.  Compassion.  What if that had been my natural reflex in this situation instead of anger?  For me to realize that something must have been going on with him for this to happen and to actually care what that something was -- instead of immediately focusing on my hurt, my anger, me me me me.  Even if hurt and anger are justified, they do not negate the need for compassion and empathy.

If you are reading this, please accept this as my apology.