Author: Suzanne

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‘Pride’ and ‘humility’ are concepts that are on my mind just now. That’s because I’m about to swallow my pride and send out a newsletter saying (in the words of Oliver Twist), “Please sir, I want some more.” More money, that is. Just a little more.

As part of an online book club for cross-cultural workers[1], I have also been reading the book ‘Humble Roots[2]’ recently. It is all about pride and humility. It seems that God has me undertaking a unit entitled ‘Pride and Humility’ in the divine syllabus of life.

As I read about ‘pride’ and ‘humility’, it occurs to me that the corresponding Chinese phrases depict these meanings visually and powerfully.

 

骄傲 (jiao’ao) – pride

The Chinese word for ‘pride’ is actually made up of two characters – 骄傲. Each word is made up of radicals, which are pictographs with their own meaning and sounds.

骄 – jiao – the first character in the Chinese word for ‘pride’ begins with the character for ‘horse’ – 马. In English, we may say to somebody who is full of their own importance, “Come down off your high horse”. It seems that this picture of pride has crossed cultural boundaries, being present in both English and Chinese. It is not insignificant that Jesus entered Jerusalem on the colt of a donkey on what we now call ‘Palm Sunday’ rather than on a ‘high horse’.

‘Being tall’ – 乔-is the second part of the first character in the Chinese word for pride. In her book, Humble Roots, the author cites Milton’s depiction of the temptation as including Adam and Eve reaching high for the fruit[3]. She says that reaching high is a way of getting as far from our humble roots – dirt – as possible[4]. The Tower of Babel is another expression of that, as are most towers that have been constructed in the world ever since, ranging from Asia’s pagodas to Europe’s castles to Dubai’s enormous tower, which is currently the tallest in the world.

The second character in the Chinese word for pride, 傲 – ao – also means ‘proud’. It begins with a picture of a person – 人. The top of the middle pictograph shows plenty – 丰. Beneath that is a character meaning ‘ten thousand’ – 万. On the right is a radical which, though rarely appearing on its own, means to rap or tap – 攴.

When we put the various pieces together, we see a picture of a man mounted high on a horse, all alone up there, decorated in finery suggesting riches unlimited. I imagine ‘mere mortals’ running along below, banging drums and cymbals, making a lot of noise along the way, as if to say, “Look at this great man on his tall horse!”

谦卑 (qian bei) – Humility

In contrast to the picture of pride, the characters for ‘humility’ reveal connection, mutual support, and close contact with the soil from which we are made.

‘Speech’ is how the first character begins, represented by the side radical 讠. This suggests that we are not alone, but interact with others. The second part of the first character, 兼, shows lots of mutual co-operation and interaction. See how there are two of just about everything in the pictograph? On its own, this character means to ‘unite’ or ‘combine’ or ‘connect’. Neither side is dominant – they almost (not quite) mirror each other.  Together, 谦 forms a character which means ‘modest’.

The second character in the word for ‘humility’, 卑, means ‘inferior’ when it stands alone. That is interesting considering that it is composed of three radicals, two of which suggest excellence. I like to break the radical down beyond even what Chinese dictionaries do. Up the top is a movement radical 丿which some say portrays the ‘breath of life’[5].  Under that comes the character 甲 which has a variety of meanings, including ‘the first in a list of things’.  Within that is a picture of a plowed field – 田. Below that, we see the number 10  十 which symbolizes perfection.

I like to think that the the field 田 in the second part of the character for humility 卑 reflects our humble beginnings from dirt.  In fact, the terms ‘human’ and ‘humus’ (soil) are related in English, just as they are in ancient Hebrew, where man is ‘Adam’, and soil is ‘adamah’. (See footnote 4.) In Chinese, too, the character for a man 男 also contains a field 田 as well as strength 力.

When we put all these pieces together, we get ‘humility’ – 谦卑. We see people communicating with one another through speech 讠, pulling together in mutuality 兼, as the breath of God 丿is blown into the field 田, restoring creation to perfection 十.

Jesus epitomizes humility. Though he had incredible glory and was in a very high place, he came down to earth and humbled himself even to death on a cross[6]. In doing this, he redeemed us and all of creation, restoring it to its perfect state[7]. In a mysterious way, we experience this in part now and look forward to seeing it fully in the future[8].

 

Am I reading too much into these Chinese characters? Perhaps. Yet there is no question that the meaning of ‘pride’ is vividly depicted in the Chinese characters 骄傲, just as the earthy and mutually dependent aspect of ‘humility’ is clearly depicted in 谦卑。

 

Here ends the theoretical part of the language lesson. And now, for me, comes the application part of the lesson.  I am about to send out a letter to current and potential future supporters which says, “I need your help.” If you’ve read this far, could you say a little prayer for me regarding the whole support-raising venture? Thanks so much.

 

 

 

[1] https://velvetashes.com/category/book-club/

[2] ‘Humble Roots: How Humility Grounds and Nourishes Your Soul’ by Hannah Anderson, Moody Publishers, 2016

[3] Anderson, ‘Humble Roots’, p.68 of 209 in the Kindle version of the book

[4] Anderson, ‘Humble Roots’, p.66 of 209 in the Kindle version of the book

[5] See, for example, http://www.icr.org/article/genesis-chinese-pictographs/ accessed 5 April 201

[6] Philippians 2:6-11

[7] Romans 8:19-22

[8] 1 Corinthians 13:12

I write this post looking at the computer screen through multi-focal lenses. Yes, needing glasses for the computer is a sign of age, but also, I like to think, of maturity.

 

As a child, I understood the profound truth which we commemorate on Good Friday through the lens of a guilt-innocence paradigm. Having lived in Asia for a long time, I have added a tinge of guilt-shame to my metaphorical glasses. As a modern Australian woman, there is now a distinct element of pain-pleasure in my perspective on life. And although I haven’t yet spent enough time immersed in an animistic culture to have a significant fear-power worldview, the events we remember on Good Friday are wonderfully powerful for those who do. (See footnote [1] to learn more about these ways of interpreting the world around us.)

 

Guilt-Innocence

That very first Easter, Jesus died for my sins. The Bible says so. And I am incredibly grateful.

I had broken the rules of what my conscience knows to be right. As such, I had rebelled against the Great Judge and deserved death. I was guilty.

Through faith, I have already been declared innocent because Jesus took the punishment I deserve when he went to the cross. Yet the ‘old me’ and the ‘new me’ still struggle to live according to God’s rules. One day I shall stand before him perfectly pure.

“But now … the righteousness of God has been made known … This righteousness is given through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe…. for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus.”  Romans 3:21-24 NIV

 

Shame-Honour

That very first Easter, Jesus embraced my shame. The Bible says so. And I am incredibly grateful.

I had not honoured Almighty God. He is emperor – king – Creator – and yet I had treated him with contempt. I could never approach him in my own right because of the shame my community has brought on itself.

Yet Jesus embraced our shame when he willingly went to the cross. Through Jesus Christ, we can already come into the presence of the Creator and King of kings. It’s true that I still dishonour him when I fail to live according to his ways. But oh, how I look forward to the day we shall stand before him in glory and worship wholeheartedly.

“As Scripture says, “Anyone who believes in him will never be put to shame.” Romans 10:11 NIV

 

Pain-Pleasure

That very first Easter, Jesus took upon himself the pain that is mine. The Bible says so. And I am incredibly grateful.

We endure pain because of the curse placed on the world. Painful toil of the land was part of the curse given to the man, and pain in childbirth was part of the curse placed on the woman. I was unable to be in relationship with the powerful one who holds everything together, and relationships with those around me suffered too.

When Jesus died on the cross, he endured the pain of a broken relationship with God that should be mine. I already experience the joy that comes from being reconciled to God through Jesus. Yet I still live in a sin-afflicted world and endure the pain of broken relationships, unfulfilled hopes and decay. But one day, Jesus will destroy all pain.

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” Revelation 21:4  NIV

 

Fear-Power

That very first Easter, Jesus defeated the powers of evil that afflict all creation. The Bible says so. And I am incredibly grateful.

We live in a world temporarily ruled by a prince of evil whom Christians call Satan. I think of animistic homes I have visited where amulets, statues, bowls and deer heads abound, all intended to ward off evil spirits. They don’t know the name ‘Satan’, but they know what it means to fear powerful evil spirits.

I already experience freedom from fear of the evil one because Jesus overcame the devil on the cross. Yet our enemy still has limited power and gives me no end of grief in terms of temptations and trials. One day, Satan and his followers shall be destroyed and then we shall know freedom in all its fullness.

“And having disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross.” Colossians 2:15 NIV

 

 

Whatever lens or combination of lenses we use as we remember the events of that first Easter, Jesus Christ has rescued us from a fate worse than death. He took our punishment, embraced our shame, suffered our pain and powerfully overcame evil. In a mysterious way, it is not just we individuals he has saved, but all of creation will be redeemed.

That is GOOD news. And we are incredibly grateful.

 

 

[1] There are good resources available on the three dominant worldviews – guilt-innocence, shame-honour and fear-power. See, for example, the very readable book ‘The 3D Gospel’ by Jayson Georges. The idea of a fourth worldview – pain-pleasure – is new. You can listen to an excellent presentation from a CMS conference early in 2018 introducing this pain-pleasure worldview here: https://soundcloud.com/user-648016639/summer-days-afternoon-talk-2-david-williams-the-promise-of-suffering-and-glory

 

I’m not advocating lazing around all day, sipping coffee and nibbling crackers and cheese. In fact, it sometimes takes real discipline to rest rather than stress. As I write, my diary contains more tasks than I can realistically achieve. That’s not what Jesus called us to when he said “… I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me” (Matthew 11:28b-29a).

God has been gently enabling me to take on his yoke rather than my own this past week. It’s been a crazy patch, but thoroughly enjoyable. And that, I suspect, is part of what Jesus was talking about when he promised ‘rest’ even as he spoke about taking on his ‘yoke’.

Unprepared

I had intended to review my Tibetan lessons earlier. But it hadn’t happened. I only had two hours to cram before class. I sat down, spread out my books … and a knock sounded at the door.

It was a neighbour. For the past 2 ½ years, I’ve been saying to her, “Drop in for a cuppa.” And she chose NOW?!

I checked with a little internal voice. Then made coffee. My neighbour poured out her heart. All too soon, I had to walk out the door with her, say goodbye, and hurry off to class. Unprepared.

As it turned out, had I not confessed my lack of preparation to my teacher, I would have gotten away with it.

Changed deadlines

I had two big deadlines this week.  The first was to read and reflect upon a most excellent but rather thick book (and the reflection would be assessed) before a class on Wednesday. The second was a translation project of over 4000 words due on Thursday. Although I’d been alternating between translation and reading for a while, late last week, a sixth sense told me to just work on the reading. I was looking forward to a friend’s arrival on Sunday – she would stay for a couple of days. I finished the reading before she came. As for the translation, I convinced myself that I would use every spare moment this week and then pull an all-nighter if necessary.

It was not necessary. On Monday, an email appeared in my inbox. “Due to the German Diakonie’s visit, I won’t need that translation until March 18th.”  God bless the German Diakonie! It turns out they represent the social service arm of the German Protestant church, and so I say even more warmly – God bless them.

Listening to that little internal voice telling me to work on the reading first saved me a lot of stress. I even had time to go for a short walk with my visitor in a favourite spot in the hills nearby. And I suspect that God thinks I can’t pull and all nighter anymore anyway.

Broken tools

My printer was second-hand when I bought it last year in an effort to use up my stash of ink cartridges after the printer before that stopped working. I’ve been expecting its demise. But why did it have to fail on Wednesday evening?

On Thursday morning, I had a small group in the morning followed by a presentation to some influential people. I hadn’t prepared as well as I could have for either, but I had prepared. Yet when I went to print out my notes on Wednesday night, the printer skipped lines all over the page.

Because I didn’t have printed materials to follow, I was more flexible than usual. We had some special sharing in the small group. And I had sent through power point slides for the presentation, so it wasn’t entirely without structure.

 

The purpose of this week’s meandering is not to justify myself. Having reliable equipment is important. Preparation should be done early enough to swing with unscheduled changes. I need to set realistic goals and allow adequate time to achieve them.

The purpose of this blog post is to remind myself (and share with you, if you are reading along) that participation in God’s work is what matters. It’s not about ticking tasks off my ‘to do’ list. When I discipline my mind to remember this truth – when I take on Jesus’ yoke rather than get caught up in the angst of the moment – I am able to rest. Even in the midst of all the activity.

Just the same, I’m glad it is the weekend.

I started my half day retreat with my journal and a chai latte. A spindly tree, devoid of leaves and white as bleached bones caught my eye.

Then I headed into the bush where I meandered and meditated.

Forest

It’s one thing when a great old tree comes to the end of its days, with scores or even hundreds of rings exposed once the fallen giant is cut. But it’s sad when a young tree dies.

I wandered amongst the gorgeous tall gums, many with ribbons of red bark hanging off silver trunks. I listened to squawking cockatoos, cackling kookaburras and the ‘toot toot’ of Puffing Billy, the distant steam train. A gentle breeze in the canopy above me rustled the leaves, though down below the air was still. And then, around a bend, I would be confronted with another dead tree.

 

Why do trees die before their time? Perhaps there are environmental problems, such as strong winds and wet soil combined with root systems that are too small to keep a tree upright during a storm. Perhaps the tree is diseased, infected by insect, fungus or some other pathogen. Perhaps it has been strangled by vines.

Does nobody love these trees? Why has nothing been done to protect them?

Discipline

“My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline,
and do not lose heart when he rebukes you,
 because the Lord disciplines the one he loves,
and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.”

(Proverbs 3:11-12, quoted also in Hebrews 12:5-6)

As I meandered through the forest, stopping to admire tiny birds which flitted across the path and butterflies which danced in a beam of late afternoon sunlight, I also kept my eyes peeled for lyre birds and kangaroos which I’ve seen here before. And I quietly whistled the tune of the prayer-song, “Search me, O God….”

Towards the end of my retreat afternoon, I sat with a takeaway bowl of Pad Thai by a path running behind homes. The sun, now low in the sky, highlighted scars on a tree. The tree had clearly had some branches removed. It had obviously had vines wrapped around its trunk at some point. But all that was history. The tree is now flourishing. Somebody has cared for it. Somebody loves it.

Loved

At home this past week, I arranged to have a diseased branch cut off a gorgeous Japanese maple which graces my front window each year with its autumnal display. I was loath to have the branch removed, but it was diseased. I was concerned that the rest of the tree would die if I didn’t act quickly. I love that tree.

How much more, then, does God loves us? He loves us too much to let us grow too tall for our root systems to support, to let vines wrap around us and eventually strangle us or to allow the fungus or insect infestation of unconfessed sin to destroy us. Pruning hurts, but it is for our good.

Suffering isn’t all about discipline. Reasons for suffering are usually complex and can rarely be summed up with a simple ‘cause and effect’ statement. Nevertheless, the message of Hebrews 12:4-12 is to accept hardship as divine discipline and to take courage in the midst of it. That’s easy to say when you’re enjoying a glorious afternoon in a gorgeous forest.

 

As I write, I am grinning after an uneventful physical check-up last week, follow-up from some serious physical ‘pruning’ a couple of years back. Today, God reminded me afresh of the importance of remaining spiritually healthy too, and that means having regular spiritual examinations to nip any problems in the bud.

Speaking of buds, what I’d really like to be in God’s great garden is a rose bush. A fragrant, gorgeous, flourishing rose bush.

But what am I saying? Roses do best with annual pruning!

This blog post is NOT an appeal for funds. That won’t appear on this website. This is simply the meandering thoughts of a Christian worker about support-raising.

 

“I’m a beggar. A charity case. A drain on the resources of God’s people.” That’s what some of us think but never say when it comes to asking for financial support.

I know the theory. It’s partnership development – not charity work.  Support raising involves giving others the privilege of giving. ‘Friend-raising’ rather than ‘fund-raising’ is the focus. I can wax eloquent about giving generally so that kingdom workers can focus on kingdom work. But my pride takes a whack when it comes to asking for financial support for my own work.

 

Gratitude

I’ve been living on the kindness of God’s people for about 23 of the last 25 years now. I am very grateful to those individuals and churches who support me. Back in 1995, many people rose to the challenge of giving $1 a day … $365 a year … amounting to $8395 up to this point in time, and it will be over $10,000 in a few more years … incredible. I could explain how that money has been used, showing that it was a good investment in kingdom-building, but that is a topic for another time. Suffice to say I’m very grateful.

Many of those who started out giving regularly to my work in 1995 were early retirees. Now, one by one, those kind souls are moving on to heaven. On top of that, inflation means that what $100 could buy in Australia in 1995 now costs $171.34. And finally, my costs have increased, as I have moved from Asia back to Australia.  All these factors make for a perfectly reasonable argument for raising more support. But I am still reticent to ask for more money.

 

A sense of shame

I want to be the great provider, a source of strength and support for those I serve. I want to have all the answers. But the kingdom of God has ‘upside-down values’. The weak become strong in God’s kingdom, the least important are honoured as the most important and we enter God’s kingdom like a child. I suppose I should be grateful for the frequent lessons in humility that come with having to raise support.

Is what I do worth the investment? There are others who have a far more effective role in building up God’s kingdom. Supporting national workers is an excellent use of resources and one in which I actively invest myself. Aid and development work puts kingdom principles into action, resulting in the transformation of lives and even communities.

My contribution to building up God’s kingdom is often a step back from these front line roles. Last week’s blog touched on God’s gentle affirmation of the part I play, though I long for more hands-on action and do what I can to experience it. I am somewhat ashamed to ask people to support my work when there are so many other projects that their money could go to.

Yet the fact remains that I can’t be devoted to the work I do without an income. It’s not that I can’t earn money, but that I’m unwilling to spend the time to do so. I could go back to teaching and/or secular translation work. That has value, but isn’t what I feel God would have me focus during this current chapter of life.

 

Tentmaking vs relying on the kindness of others

Paul was a tentmaker, and so we refer to those who do ministry through or in addition to their paid work as ‘tentmakers’. This is a valuable model for many types of ministry. Non-local Christians are only able to live in some communities by working in a secular role. Some Christian workers come from communities which are unable to support them financially, and so are forced to be bi-vocational. I admire these people.

Paul was a tentmaker, but only some of the time. His costs were also supplemented by gifts from God’s people, and at times that was all he lived on. It was as part of a ‘thank you letter’ for such support that we get such oft-quoted verses as “I have learned to be content in all circumstances” (Philippians 4:12), “I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:13) and “My God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:19).

There are other Biblical characters, too, who lived on the kindness of God’s people. Jesus himself did, as did his disciples both during Jesus’ time on earth and, at least for some of them, later. Many of the prophets and all the priests were supported by the community, though their focus was usually on God’s people rather than beyond their own community. The same is true for church workers under Pastor Timothy (see 1 Timothy 5:17-18) who were encouraged to draw a salary from the early church.

Tentmaking is an important concept in Christian work. But living on the support of others has Biblical precedents too.

God’s economy

Over and over, I am reminded that God’s concept of ‘economy’ isn’t the same as ours. From our limited perspective, we look for value for money, and for returns for investments. From God’s perspective, what is money? As the children’s song goes, “He owns the cattle on a thousand hills, the wealth in every mine; He owns the rivers and the rocks and rills, the stars and sun that shine….” (The song, written by John Peterson, is based on Psalm 50.)

And so the time has come to swallow my pride and ask for more money so that I can focus fully on the tasks I believe God has given me at this point in time. I have some ideas – challenging people to consider giving a regular gym-membership-equivalent contribution, for example. I am intrigued by the way the Biblical character David ‘raised support’ for himself and his band of followers before he became king of Israel and after he had abruptly finished his time of employment by King Saul. Sometimes, supplies were freely given, while at other times they were gained by means akin to banditry. 1 Samuel 25 would make an interesting text for teaching about support-raising. In that story, David gained both provisions and a wife!

 

As I approach this humbling task of asking for more support, I am reassured by a line of poetry from King David. It is as relevant for us today as it was for him 3000 years ago, because we serve an unchanging eternal God.

I say to the LORD, “You are my Lord; apart from you I have no good thing.” (Psalm 16:2)

Through writing down these meandering thoughts, I am encouraged … given courage … to put together my own updated support card, write up a page of facts and figures, and send them out to current and potential supporters. God provides, and very often that provision comes through the people of God. I still don’t like asking for money, but I will. Stay tuned……

Does God speak within the myriad of details of the lives of countless people, both today and across the ages? Is it self-centred to think that the Almighty would have anything particular for me, an ordinary Australian Christian woman, right here and now?

When I’m sitting in the quiet of my own little backyard, I feel ‘special’ to God. But when I travel the world, I realize afresh just how little I am. My story is one of billions, and the stories of today are only a flicker amongst the stories of people across all time.

 

Spacious places

Air travel is incredible. Imagine squeezing 400+ people into a narrow metal tube and propelling it halfway across the world. Just after midnight on Monday morning, I boarded a flight bound for Malaysia, after which I would go on to Thailand.

It was a good flight. Even so, stretching my legs in the spacious airport at Kuala Lumpur was lovely. I had six hours in transit and so, being a good Christian woman, sat down to read God’s word and pray. Over coffee, of course.

The fragrant drink was just what I needed to help me focus. To my right, a westerner sat in a lotus position, hands resting on her knees, palms up, index finger and thumb joined and eyes closed. The table in front of me was occupied by a Muslim couple, the woman covered from head to toe except for her round face and hands, which showed. They were enjoying toasted sandwiches. I offered a prayer as I got underway.

“Thank you, Lord, that you are here.” I opened the Bible app on my iPad. A particular prayer jumped out of the screen at me, or so it seemed.  ‘You brought me out into spacious places.’ (This is in both Psalm 31:8 and 2 Samuel 22:20 – I read it in Psalm 31 then used the cross-reference feature of the app to read the prayer in 2 Samuel too.) Did this ‘spacious places’ prayer feel significant because I had just spent a night in a cramped airplane, or was there more to it? Could it be a particular message for me right here right now?

Being a well-educated Christian woman, I know that ‘a text without a context is a pretext’. (I wish I could credit that quote but have forgotten where I heard it.)  In both cases, the ‘spacious places’ phrase came in the context of King David having been rescued from difficult times by an all-powerful God.

This trip is special to me in that I have just formally returned to being part of a particular community of cross-cultural workers focused on one part of Asia. I’m on my way to join colleagues for our annual gathering. Could God be saying to this little Australian woman seated in a coffee shop in Asia, preparing for a fresh chapter of service, “I have brought you out into spacious places”? Oh, I hope so. I dare not take that verse out of context, but if God were to communicate that message in other ways, that would be just fine.

 

An unusual and unwanted discipline

Rewind 2 ½ years. I was sitting in a doctor’s waiting room – one of many times of waiting during a difficult period of life in which I underwent cancer treatment. Another passage jumped off the page at me that day, not from the Bible, but from a book written by a man of God. I took it as God’s gentle touch.

One of the disciplines to which the Lord calls us is the willingness, from time to time, not to be used in significant ministry…. Imagine, now, a devoted and gifted Christian woman, whose ministry has been precious to her, finding that for quite a long period the Lord sidelines her so that her potential is not being used. … It is … a lesson in Christ’s school of holiness. The Lord is reminding her that her life does not depend on her finding that people need her. The prime source of her joy must always be the knowledge of God’s love for her…. Regarding her ministry, what matters is that she should be available to Him. Then He will decide when and how to put her to service again and she should leave that with Him.

J.I. Packer, Rediscovering Holiness, pp.199-200 Servant Publications, 1994

I feel as if I have been ‘treading water’ in terms of ministry these past couple of years. Yes, I’ve been involved in interesting and useful things, and I hope that I have been a good steward of the resources invested in me. But I have also consciously worked at not being busy. Becoming healthy again after a fairly significant ‘whack’ from surgery, radiation and chemotherapy as well as a couple of nasty infections has been my primary focus.

I was reminded of ‘the discipline not to be used in significant ministry for a time’ in the Kuala Lumpur airport because of another blog post (in the Velvet Ashes community) which I read while there. I hunted about for the J.I. Packer quote to share with women in that online community. Even as I did so, I wondered about the relationship between it and my ‘spacious places’ reading. Could it possibly be that the time has come for God to put me back into significant service again? If that is so, I am determined to remember that my identity must be in being part of his kingdom and not in my work.

 

‘A word’

The day after receiving the ‘spacious places’ insight in the Kuala Lumpur airport, I was walking in a magnificent tropical garden with a good friend. We were somewhat lost when we met the random American. We weren’t worried, but we were ready for some refreshments.

We stood at a lakeside coffee bar, looking at the menu board. The young man was sitting on a bench, sipping coconut milk from a whole coconut with the top cut off. In front of him was an open Bible and a notebook.  “Excuse me,” he said, “but can I just say that God’s Spirit is on you?”

It turns out that he was staying at the same hotel and had seen us at breakfast. I hadn’t noticed him, but my friend had. He had been looking at us quite intently, she later told me. The young man had sensed that God had a message for him to give us, but he wasn’t confident enough to approach us at the time. And here we were again, just two hours later. He took this ‘coincidence’ as a divine nudge.

“You are a well where others can go to be replenished. You are also a mobilizer for prayer. You build up God’s people. Does that make sense?”  I was both reassured and slightly dismayed. I want to do ‘frontline work’ during this chapter of life. In my 20+ years of cross-cultural work, time and time again, after serious prayer, I end up supporting other believers. Those roles have included member care, language learning support, mobilization, training, hosting short-term workers, discipleship and more. Mind you, getting people to pray for God’s kingdom to come to places where it is currently unknown is something I am convinced is God’s particular commission for me right now. That line was encouraging. And I’ve recently agreed to serve my team in a couple of other behind-the-scene roles. Perhaps this IS God’s role for me right now, rather than just an added extra.

The random American went on to share a message for my friend that was very much in line with other things she has been hearing recently. Then he spoke about our friendship – a special friendship that is divinely ordained (another story) – and he was spot on. Do his words have the same authority as Scripture? Of course not. But it does seem like he has been given ‘words of knowledge’ for us. How special.

Within a day of receiving these words, I received three affirmations from women I have somehow influenced by words or example. I’m honoured and humbled at the same time. Who am I, an ordinary middle-aged Australian woman, to be used by Holy God to build up his people?

Could it be that the timing of these kind words is God’s way of confirming this word passed on by a random young man? ‘You are a well where others can go to be replenished,” he had said. “You build up God’s people.”

 

What next?

I ardently hope that the season of life in which I was metaphorically squished into a cramped corner is over. I’m thinking of the past couple of years as I recovered from treatment and focused on getting healthy again. I would be delighted to move now into a season of ‘spacious places’.

If the random American is right, God wants to use me to build up his people and to mobilize prayer. A little bit of front line action would be nice, and I’m already enjoying a taste of that. At the same time, as J.I. Packer pointed out, how and when God chooses to use me is his call.

I have more than a sneaking suspicion that a new season is ahead – a season of spacious places.

Watch this space.

 

 

It’s Monday morning. It’s lovely to sit on my back porch after a couple of weeks away. (As for why and where I went, it is a long and irrelevant story – all is well, and I loved having friends staying here.) I came back to my little unit last night. I haven’t yet unpacked, but am determined to stick to my 2018 resolution of ‘Writing is my priority’. Mondays, in particular, are for writing, according to my guidelines for the year. And so, I picked up my bright yellow ‘first draft’ notebook, ready to draft this week’s blog post.

 

A cuppa sounded like a good way to get the creative juices flowing. I went to the kitchen, put the kettle on, then back out to the porch again to write in the comparative cool of the morning. That’s when I realized that I didn’t have my writing notebook with me. How could I have lost it? I pulled out everything that I’d taken away with me, making more of a mess than I had already created last night when I dumped tubs of stuff in my home office. I was so sure I had held that notebook in my hands just minutes earlier. Was I going mad?

 

I could use other paper, I knew, though I do like my writing notebook. I reluctantly grabbed a boring old notepad and once again sat down to write. But a cuppa would be a nice way to get started. I went to put the kettle on, only to find that the water was already piping hot. And there, sitting on the kitchen counter, was my writing notebook! Oh dear – what a start to the day.

I made a cup of Indian chai (though it wasn’t authentic – I used a tea bag), and toasted half a gluten-free hot cross bun, topping it with cheese. I would have appreciated the flavours more had I not been feeling so hassled. At last, I sat down to write my first draft of this blog post.

The first draft

 

I have just finished a helpful book that relates to today’s experience. ‘Rising Strong,’ by researcher-storyteller Dr Brené Brown, is a secular book. It was recommended for people who struggle with perfectionism – that came from a short writing course I took recently. It was a good recommendation. Dr Brené teaches about wholeheartedness – something to which I aspire. She uses the phrase ‘Let’s rumble’ to describe the way we explore and recognize a story we’re telling ourselves – usually one that we are hardly aware of while in the midst of it. I wrote a ‘first draft’ about today’s 糊里糊涂 incident. (糊里糊涂 – hulihutu – is a Chinese phrase meaning ‘muddle-headed’.  糊里糊涂 looks so much more scatter-brained and the pronunciation – hulihutu – sounds so much more confused than the English equivalent, don’t you think?!) This is what I wrote.

 

“You idiot. Can’t you even keep track of a simple notebook? You’re hopeless. You shouldn’t even try to be a writer … or a cross-cultural worker … or a graduate student. You clearly don’t have the ability to juggle even a notebook and a cup of tea. And as for that hot cross bun with cheese – whatever were you thinking, you great drongo? Or rather, clearly, you were NOT thinking. Carbohydrates for a SNACK?! You bought that bun for a special treat AFTER a workout, not just any old time. You’re hopeless – why pay for accountability and support for diet and exercise when you sabotage it all with bread? And a hot cross bun in January – what sort of Christian are you? Easter commemorates something sacred and you’re eating hot cross buns without even thinking about their meaning?!”

 

My first draft sounds extreme. It shocked me when I wrote it down as a part of drafting this blog post. I would NEVER speak like that to someone I love … or even to someone I barely know. Dr Brené suggests in her book that we write up the ‘first drafts’ of our stories so that we can see what we’re thinking. It was a shock to me when I did so this morning. But a helpful shock.

 

‘Take every thought captive’

 

A couple of weeks ago, I blogged about ‘lies we believe’. As you can see, I continue to wrestle with this issue – the lies have left entrenched ruts in my mind which will take time to fill in. Writing the first draft of the story above helped me to identify my thoughts. I am reminded of the Bible verse: ‘… we take every thought captive to make it obedient to Christ’ (2 Corinthians 10:5 NIV). This verse comes in the context of an admonition to live by God’s standards. Paul, the writer, goes on to integrate the topic of spiritual warfare and the importance of our obedience to God, capturing our thoughts and making them obedient to Christ in the process. I appreciate the fresh way Eugene Peterson explains it. He writes, “We use our powerful God-tools for … fitting every loose thought and emotion and impulse into the structure of life shaped by Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5 MSG).

 

It’s easy to write about ‘taking every thought captive’, but challenging to do it moment-by-moment. Thankfully, we are not expected to be perfect right away, though we are in the process of being transformed. My transformation process includes the ‘coincidence’ of the ‘Ready to Rumble’ headline in the paper just days after finishing a book in which the phrase ‘Let’s rumble’ was an important concept, and sensing that inner prod to blog on the topic.

 

Prayer is a powerful way of ‘rumbling’ before a perfect and empowering God. Writing out at least part of my prayers is primarily for my own benefit. God already know me better than I know myself. When I come to him in prayer about particular situations, he often helps me to realign my thoughts with reality. Prayer helps a lot when it comes to reworking my story.

 

The reworked story

 

I’m not making excuses here. I know I have a tendency to be scatter-brained. But if I were talking to somebody else who was in my shoes, this is what I would say:

 

“You’re tired. It’s been a busy couple of weeks. The weather has been nasty these last few days – so hot and humid – and that means you don’t sleep well. You don’t roll with the punches like you did when you were a university student thirty years ago, the first time round. Your hulihutu (muddle-headed) behaviour comes out of being tired, not out of being bad. It would be nice if you could have the day off, but you have a lot to get done this week, so that’s not going to happen. You do, however, need to show yourself a little grace.  Just stop what you’re doing and take some time to restore order to the air-conditioned living room and the kitchen. You can tackle the bedroom and office tomorrow when the weather is cooler. You know that an ordered environment helps you focus. As for that half a hot cross bun, just move on. Yes, it was a poor choice for an early morning tea, but it’s not the end of the world. Just choose more nutritious foods for the rest of the day. Of course you can still enjoy the other half of that festive bun – at an appropriate time. You don’t need to wait until Easter – it’s just bread – there is nothing holy about it. And make sure you savour it next time.”

 

It’s easier to say that to somebody else than to myself. It’s crazy, but there you have it. This is all part of the rumble – recognizing the story and reworking it to reflect reality.

 

Ready to rumble

 

That was my little rumble this morning. If I had time and space to write up some of my other first drafts of stories from various times in life, I would include lines such as “Calling a friend would be seen by them as an unpleasant interruption to their day,” “That colleague doesn’t like me or my work,” “She is just a jerk,” “Those people have no sense of decency,” and “People who misuse apostrophes don’t deserve my respect.” It’s shocking, I know, when you see your unspoken thoughts in black and white.

 

Life is complex. People are complicated. As Christians, we want to live well. We want to reflect our Lord in our interactions with those around us. We want to be mature in Christ.

 

The apostle Paul wrote about his desire to “present everyone fully mature in Christ” (Colossians 1:28b NIV). He was working to build up others in Jesus, but of course, there is work to be done in ourselves too. The effort needed to bring about maturity comes both from within ourselves and also from our Lord whose Spirit lives in us. Paul wrote, “To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me” (Colossians 1:29NIV).

 

In the words of Paul, I want to be ‘mature in Christ’. In the words of Dr Brené Brown, I want to be ‘wholehearted’ in how I live. They’re both describing the same thing in different ways when it comes to my own story.

 

And so … let’s rumble.

 

 

“Nehemiah, build that wall….” This song from my childhood has been playing in my head all week. That’s because I started off the week helping a teenager with her Christian Studies homework on the book of Nehemiah. I hope it was helpful for her. I know that God spoke to me through it.

 

I have also been taking a refresher class at the Melbourne School of Theology on how to do good research this week. It’s been helpful and has definitely built my confidence as I embark on a b-i-g project (well, big for me) focused on the Muya people in Asia. It is right to feel ill-equipped and overwhelmed. Seeking the extra training was appropriate. At the same time, it would be wrong to be crippled by that sense of inadequacy. That’s a topic I blogged about a couple of weeks ago.

 

Gems gleaned from thinking about the story of Nehemiah intersected with jewels of wisdom received from the research methods class. In particular, we started and ended the course by thinking about research as a spiritual discipline. It has been a good way to ‘set the scene’ for the year ahead.

 

Nehemiah’s peer on the Indian sub-continent

Although I learned about Nehemiah as a child, hence having that catchy song in my head still today, it was only this week that I realized that Nehemiah lived about the same time as Siddharta Gautama, the founder of Buddhism. Nehemiah worked in service for the Babylonian king in the city of Susa, situated in what is modern-day Iran, though the project for which he is remembered, of course, was leading the wall-building project of Jerusalem in Israel. Siddharta Gautama spent his life further east, in the area through which the border between Nepal and India now runs.

 

Both men were greatly distressed by the state of affairs in their homelands. Nehemiah looked to God for divine intervention and later led many of his fellow Jews in bringing about God’s will for them – the reestablishment of their nation, symbolized by a city wall around Jerusalem. Siddharta Gautama didn’t know the Creator God. He responded to the suffering he saw about him by meditating and seeking ‘truth’. The insights he gained have been passed from generation to generation in various forms ever since. That was the beginning of Buddhism.

 

The contrast between Nehemiah and Gautama reflects what I see as the importance of looking to God rather than looking within ourselves. As you probably know, I’m very interested in Christian meditation. It involves a degree of introspection, to be sure, but primarily Christians should be looking to God in our times of focused silence.

 

As I meditated on God as he is revealed in the book of Nehemiah, three things stood out to me. I hope and expect to apply these to my work and life in 2018.

 

Look for what God is doing and participate in his work

The Jews’ return to their homeland from exile after they had repented and turned back to God had been prophesied long before the events recorded in the book of Nehemiah occurred. Rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem and establishing the people back in their homeland was primarily God’s work. Nehemiah did, however, have a significant role in bringing about what God had in mind.

 

My research project this year will focus on the Muya people in Asia (God willing). There are a number of cross-cultural workers focused on this group right now. Several people I know believe that this is God’s time for the Muya to come to know him. I have sensed a ‘call’ to focus on them for over five years but it is only this year that I am finally in a position to do more than promote prayer for them.  I am excited to think that I can make a contribution to what God is doing right now. My role will hopefully involve academic research, making regular visits to the area and mobilizing people like you to pray for them. The privilege of participating in God’s work motivates me to do my very best.

 

Bathe the work in prayer

Nehemiah integrated prayer into everything he did. For four months before he had the opportunity to raise the possibility of his leading the rebuilding project with the king of the empire, he fasted and prayed. Confession on behalf of his people was a major part of his prayers. He also reminded God … and himself, as he prayed … of God’s attributes and promises. It seems that prayer was a regular part of his day. Several of the prayers he offered are recorded in Scripture.

 

As I finally approach undertaking a research project on the Muya people, it is my intention that prayer will be an integral part of my work. This will include confession, a focus on God’s attributes and promises, frequent requests for help to focus and good connections with key Muya people, and for creativity in writing up what I learn in academic and other formats.

 

Work hard – very hard

Nehemiah worked very, very hard. The team he led completed the building project in just 52 days despite setbacks. He later returned to Jerusalem to deal with other problems which emerged within the community. He faced plenty of discouragement, fear and disappointments. Through it all, he stayed focused, dealing with each incident as it arose.

 

I don’t know what 2018 will bring. I hope for happiness, harmony and good health, but that isn’t assured. Regardless of what is ahead, is my intention to work hard – very hard. Reaching the Muya is God’s work but that doesn’t mean that my role in it will be easy.

 

 

“Nehemiah, build that wall!” I sang this song often as a child and have sung it again plenty this past week, some forty years after first learning it.  The same God who listened to Nehemiah’s prayers and enabled Nehemiah to participate in his work almost 2500 years ago still listens to prayers today.  May we achieve what God has in store for us this year, whether it be building a physical wall, undertaking a thorough research project on a particular people group, or something else entirely.

An ordered life is something to which I aspire. I admire those people who almost never seem harried but just set out quietly to work towards their goals, and who achieve plenty as a result.  I, on the other hand, seem to leap from one mini-crisis to the next. I react to imminent deadlines with focus and dedication, resulting in efficient though sporadic ‘busy patches’ in life. Goals that don’t come with deadlines, however, may never be met, even though they’re important.

 

Busy

‘Busy’ has been part of my identity for many years – most of my life, in fact. A ‘balanced lifestyle’ is what I aim for these days. Health professionals advise that ‘extraneous stress’ (I had to look up the word ‘extraneous’ in the dictionary!), as well as poor nutrition and excess weight, are risk factors for recurrence of the endometrial cancer that I had in 2015. So I’m extra motivated to live well.

 

I determined that this year I would enjoy an ordered life with a different focus each weekday so that I will make steady progress overall and won’t panic from deadline to deadline. Mondays are for writing, Tuesdays are for academic study, Wednesdays are for administrative and miscellaneous other matters, Thursdays are for teaching and learning (I teach English and learn Tibetan both that day) and Fridays are for translation. This didn’t apply to week one of 2018, since I was on annual leave until January 4th, then started the year off by writing up my PMP (Personal Ministry Plan) as required by my agency. Week two went really well. And now it is week three.

 

Three sets of colleagues and friends are visiting from three different states this week – how fun. In addition to spending time with these good people, I’ve been blessed with a couple of other 难得的机会 (opportunities that are not easily come by and too good to be missed – how do we say that in English?). Next week, I have four full days of classes at the Melbourne School of Theology. Next month is team conference and I’m going early to spend time with some dear friends in Asia. As I look at the calendar, I realize that there will likely only be one more ‘normal’ week between now and week eight of 2018.  That’s a 25% compliance rate in January and February when it comes to sticking to my plan for an ordered work schedule, resulting in productivity without panic.

 

This is neither a complaint nor a boast. I realize that most of us could tell similar stories, though with different details. How can we not only survive but also thrive in the various activities that fill our lives? I want to achieve plenty but to avoid having a ‘busy’ mindset in the midst of abundance.

 

Jesus’ example

As a good Christian woman, I prayed about the dilemma of how to enjoy all this activity without being frazzled. “Lord Jesus, your days were full when you walked our earth, and you knew the limitations of humanity back then. You quite literally had the task of saving the world. You were constantly harangued by people wanting this or that. I want to learn from you. Please show me how to live well.”

 

As I reflected on incidents from Jesus’ time on earth, it became obvious that Jesus had a very strong sense of who he was and what he was about. This was reflected in how he prioritized his activities. Remember the Samaritan woman who met Jesus by Jacob’s well? Jesus spent three days with her and her community – it seemed like he had all the time in the world for them. Yet he barely gave the time of day to those he considered religious hypocrites.

 

Jesus illustrated well what I want for myself – a clear sense of person and purpose. Jesus wasn’t limited by a schedule, though in a sense there was ‘a time’ for all that he did – his youth, discipleship, teaching and healing, and of course the crucifixion and resurrection. He is God incarnate, though, so of course Jesus got the balance right at any point in time. Why should I think that this clear sense of person and purpose is attainable for me, an ordinary Christian woman?

 

It’s all in the mind

Jesus’ spirit lives in us! (See Romans 8:11 and following.) This indwelling spirit is described as a spirit not of fear but “… of power, and of love, and of a sound mind” (2 Tim 1:7 KJV). Modern translations often use the term ‘discipline’ or ‘self-discipline’ where the King James version talks of ‘a sound mind’.  Now I’m not saying that faith in Jesus automatically means that we ‘have it all together’, but as we grow in our faith, so ‘soundness of mind’ will develop.  As the apostle Paul wrote elsewhere, ‘we have the mind of Christ’ (1 Corinthians 2:16). He also instructed believers to ‘be transformed by the renewing of your mind’ (Rom 12:2).

 

As I scribble this post in a big yellow notebook during a very full week, sitting in a café with terrible coffee but a quiet corner and air-conditioning, I am asking God to step up his work of transformation in me. I want my thoughts and attitudes to honour Jesus. A harried state of mind is neither godly nor healthy. In particular, I am asking God for two things.

 

First, I am asking that God’s spirit will enable me to be self-disciplined. This applies both to how I use my time as well as my thought life. God has given us ‘a spirit of … self-discipline’. Self-discipline means that I will maximize little pockets of time rather than twiddle away precious moments on things such as excess social media or mindless TV. (Mind you, social media and television shows have their place – they just need to be kept in their place.) Even a single minute here and there can be put to good use by using the Tibetan learning app on my phone or by taking a brisk one-minute walk for fitness’ sake.

 

Second, I am asking that God will grant me a clear sense of my person and purpose. Jesus was able to respond appropriately to the many opportunities – including those not-to-be-missed, hard-to-come-by opportunities. He knew who he was and what he was about. He didn’t work hard at pleasing people just because it felt good … something I am wont to do. He wasn’t afraid of missing the mark. He maintained healthy boundaries which flexed as appropriate. He didn’t get caught up in the busyness of each day and so lose focus. He prioritized prayer even and especially during the most intense days of his life on earth.

 

May his spirit, which lives in us, enable us to do likewise.

 

‘Busyness’ isn’t an occasional hiccup in life to be overcome. It’s a normal part of life – a life which I thoroughly enjoy in part because my schedule is full of interesting and varied activities. I want to embrace this life God has given me without experiencing ‘extraneous stress’. Healthy boundaries, realistic expectations, pushing on towards health and fitness goals – these are all important to maintain in the midst of a full programme, and that is a topic for another day. Today, though, as I navigate my way through a week rich with people and activities, I am choosing to reject a ‘busy’ mindset. I want to embrace the spirit of power, of love, and of a sound mind. Life is abundant indeed.

 

Postscript:  I wrote this blog post by hand on Tuesday. As I type it up on Saturday, I can attest to God’s kindness. It was a good week. I have enjoyed quality time with special people. I didn’t follow my plans when it came to activities for each day but what needed to get done all got done and much more besides. Having a ‘not-busy’ mindset is fabulous. Long may it last!

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Save me, O LORD, from lying lips and from deceitful tongues.”  Psalm 120:2

‘That’s a lie!’

I don’t usually confront people with this accusation, but there are times I would do well to confront myself with it.

This prayer for salvation from ‘lying lips and deceitful tongues’ was what I meditated upon this morning. I was challenged by Selwyn Hugues, the writer of a devotional I’m using these days, to recognize and renounce lies spoken into us by our culture. Such lies include us being masters of our own fate, of luxuries being necessities and of many of our perceived ‘rights’.  There are other lies I believe too, if only I stop and think about it rationally and prayerfully.

These ponderings brought to mind another great Bible teacher who challenged me, not once but twice, about a particular lie I believe too readily. Rev. David Cook was the principal of SMBC when I studied there. At our final chapel service in 1993, as we were on the brink of launching into the interesting lives for which our training had prepared us, our principal challenged us to think of ourselves with sober judgement – not more highly than we ought but neither paralyzed by a sense of inadequacy (Romans 12:1-8). That’s how I remember the sermon, anyhow.

Sometimes I am quick to believe that I am incapable of taking on significant roles in life and ministry. My so-called ‘humility’ gets in the way of exuberantly living the life to which God has called me. Yes, we are all generally inadequate in our own strength, but we serve a powerful God who has saved us through the cross, is transforming us, and uses us, even now, in his kingdom work.

That was the first time I remember David challenging me about this lie of inadequacy. The second time came a few years after I had moved to China. I used to get cassette tapes – yes, I’m showing my age! – of the sermons from Principal’s Hour at SMBC. (Now I subscribe to them as podcasts.)  One day, I was listening to such a sermon as I cleaned my sixth-floor unit. At the time, I was exceptionally frustrated by my lack of fluency in Chinese and feeling more than a little inadequate for the tasks ahead having recently finished full-time language study. David was preaching about Satan’s role as ‘the accuser of the brethren’ (Revelation 12:10). He challenged us to avoid assisting the enemy by accusing one another in inappropriate ways, or even accusing ourselves in ways that paralyze us with a sense of inadequacy. He reminded us that we are ‘marked with the cross of Christ’, and not with the mark of the beast. As I mopped my tiled floor, I confessed that I had once again fallen into the trap of believing a lie. And yet at the same time, in the spirit of that lie, I prayed that God would “drum this truth into my thick skull.” I remember those words distinctly because of what happened later that evening.

Having finished the cleaning, I then took my brand-new Walkman and that cassette (nowadays I listen on my phone), and headed to the hairdresser. After getting a good trim, I plugged in my earphones and purposefully strode out to get some exercise while listening to that sermon again. It was almost dark, although there was plenty of artificial light about, and lots of people were outside enjoying the coolness of the early evening. I passed a building site – one of many in that bustling Asian city – where a thick drainage hose took wastewater from the construction to a drain by the side of the road. I didn’t see the hose, but I sure felt it. As I tripped, I instinctively clutched my new Walkman to my chest so as to protect it, and let my head take the brunt of the fall.

Dazed, I clambered to my feet, amidst the concerned gasps of onlookers. “Mei shi, mei shi” (‘No problem’), I assured them. I headed home, head pounding. There really wasn’t a problem – my Walkman had sustained a scratch but was still working. Fancy valuing a piece of equipment more than my head! After climbing the 96 steps to my apartment, I went straight to the mirror to inspect the damage. A graze in the shape of a cross on my forehead startled me. Hadn’t I asked God to “drum the truth of being marked with the cross into my thick skull”? The next morning, the mark was even more pronounced, as it was mounted on a shiny red bump. With a fresh haircut, there was no hiding it.

Fast forward twenty years. Today I mopped and vacuumed the floor of my little haven here in Australia while meditating on my reading earlier this morning. “Save me, O LORD, from lying lips and from deceitful tongues” (Psalm 120:2). What are the lies I believe today?

It is the beginning of the year and so I am currently working on my personal ministry plan, as required by my agency. A sense of inadequacy looms over me as I prayerfully consider what should fill my days in 2018. Who am I, to think that I can achieve anything of significance? In this context, I was reminded of a powerful lesson learned in the past and which I am reviewing right now, in part by writing this blog post. I breathe a prayer of thanks for the reminder that I am a child of God, marked with the cross.

“I am inadequate – I can’t do it,” is a lie. Like most effective lies, it contains an element of truth, for in my own strength, I am inadequate. However, I am not living in my own strength. I have been marked with the cross, sealed by God’s Spirit, and am in the midst of a process of divine transformation and reformation. As I contemplate the year ahead, with God’s help, I will not think of myself more highly than I ought, but will think of myself with sober judgement. With this in mind, I can confidently get on with the business of fulfilling my role within the body of Christ (see Romans 12:1-8).

 

“Save me, O LORD, from lying lips and from deceitful tongues.” (Psalm 120:2)