Idols of the Heart

I just came to the shocking discovery that I have an idol in my heart. There is a situation in a family member’s life that I have wept over, prayed over, fasted over and lost sleep over. I’m not saying it’s wrong to weep, pray, fast or even lose sleep over a situation that needs God’s attention, but I caught myself in the middle of a thought that jarred my spirit: “My life would be perfect, if only [this situation was different]” I’ll spare you the unnecessary details.

I didn’t instantly recognize that thought as idolatry, but I did realize that it was an unhealthy thought. I began to journal furiously, trying to get to the root of it. I realized that this thought was not just about me loving this family member and wanting what's best for him, but that it revealed a problem in me. Every now and then I almost get a glimpse of deliverance, but the minute it begins to come into focus, I find myself frantic, desperately pleading for God to intervene in my family member’s life.

It’s like there are two voices in my head. One is offering deliverance and peace. The other saying, “You’re just using Psalm 46:10 and Romans 8:28 as a cop out. You’re shirking your responsibility. You can never be happy because this is all your fault.”

One day, when I complained to my dear, sweet spiritual mentor that I felt I had done everything wrong in this situation, she said to me, “There is therefore now NO CONDEMNATION…!” I knew in my spirit that this was a message from God to me.

Then I read a little book by Timothy Keller called, The Freedom of Self-Forgetfulness. It was a free download for Kindle and I really like the author, so I got it and began reading it. Here’s a portion of what I read:

In Christianity, the moment we believe, God says, ‘This is my beloved son in whom I am well pleased.’ Or take Romans 8:1, which says, ‘Therefore there is now NO CONDEMNATION for those who are in Christ Jesus.’ In Christianity, the moment we believe, God imputes Christ’s perfect performance to us as if it were our own, and adopts us into His family. In other words, God can say to us just as He once said to Christ, “You are my son whom I love, with you I am well pleased."

The very next day, a friend posted a quote on facebook from, you guessed it, Timothy Keller. I had no idea this friend was reading a Tim Keller book and he had no idea that I was either. Here’s the quote my friend posted:

Each day Jesus says to us, ‘You are my beloved child. I am well pleased in you. Now live that way.’ Satan, on the other hand says, ‘Look at you. Look at the condition of your circumstances. Look how poorly you’re living. There is no way you are God’s beloved child.’ Which voice are you going to believe?

This evening the conviction went even deeper, revealing my idol. When I began to suspect that I had made this family member and his situation an idol, I started researching idols of the heart. Guess who has studied and written volumes about idols of the heart. Yep, Tim Keller.

Here’s what he says, “Why do we lie, or fail to love or break our promises, or live selfishly?” In my case, why am I depressed, sluggish and jealous? Why do I eat to comfort myself?  “…there is something besides Jesus Christ that we feel we must have to be happy,” (My life would be perfect if only…) “something that is more important to our heart than God, something that is enslaving our heart through inordinate desires. The key to change (and even to self understanding) is therefore to identify the idols of the heart.”

Idols of the heart start out as good things! My family member who I have lost so much sleep over is an incredibly valuable person to God. I know that God wants much more for him than he is allowing God to give him. But I have become obsessed with him and his situation. I struggle to hear the voice of God over the condemning one that shouts accusations at me about this situation. God has clearly told me to be still and know that He is God. He has impressed Romans 8:28 on my heart that all things work together for good for those who are called and who love God. I know that there are many more factors involved than me. Yet, even after quoting those verses and others, I hear the shouts that I am responsible for this situation and that I cannot truly be happy until it changes. The guilt and regret begin to suffocate the very Word of God in my heart.

What is happening here? I am exchanging the truth of God for a lie! According to Romans 1:25, that is idolatry. When I choose to believe the voice of the enemy over the voice of God, I am committing idolatry, a violation of the very first of the Ten Commandments.

Keller goes on to list a whole slew of categories of idolatry, one of them being Family Idolatry. His example goes like this: “Life only has meaning if my [family members] are happy and happy with me.” Sounds very similar to, “My life would be perfect if only my family member’s situation were different.”

Wow, unbeknownst to him, my heart has made this dear, precious family member an idol. God forgive me. Deliver me, I pray. Just maybe if I can truly let go, and place him in Our Father’s very capable hands, God will be more free to work in his life. Lord, help me do that.

Why Ask Why?

There are so many things that happen in life that cause us to ask, “Why?” Sometimes, at the top of our lungs we want to scream, “Why?” We want to shake our fist at God and say, “Why me?” “Why now?” “Why her?” “Why this again?!”

I have a friend who has cancer. She’s not asking, “Why?” She’s asking, “Why not?” We live on planet earth. This is our temporary home. We won’t be perfect and whole until heaven. There’s no reason to think that some of us won’t get cancer. I love her response early on when she first received her diagnosis. When people tried to treat her like she was knocking on death’s door, I remember her saying, “I’m not dying, I’m living!” She has not slowed down enough to ask, “Why.” She is busy doing ministry and caring for other people. She knows there may come a time when she will have to slow down physically, but as long as she has the strength and energy, she intends to allow God to use her to do whatever He’s calling her to do.

Lysa TerKeurst, in her book, Becoming More Than a Good Bible Study Girl, says, “Asking why isn’t unspiritual. However, if asking this question pushes us farther from God rather than drawing us closer to Him, it is the wrong question.”

We’ve all had life situations when we were tempted to ask, “Why?”

•          Why did our son get mixed up in drugs?
•          Why have relationships between family members gotten so strained?
•          Why does life have to be so hard?
•          Why is there so much grief in the world?
•         Why must people suffer?
•          Why must children go hungry?

The list could go on and on. The problem with asking, “Why?” is, it causes me to get stuck in an endless loop and wallow in my grief and guilt. I begin to ask questions like,

•          Why did I let my daughter get into a car with a 16-year-old driver?
•          Why didn’t God intervene as he does with so many others who miraculously survive car accidents?
•          Why wasn’t I a better mom to my son?
•          Why didn’t I see that he was sliding down a slippery slope?
•          Why didn’t I do more to protect my kids?
•          Why hasn’t God “shown up” for my son?

Just typing those words makes my blood pressure rise. But asking those questions gets me nowhere. It does no one any good. It doesn’t bring my daughter back and it doesn’t help my son with his addictions. I can’t do anything to change the past, I can only change my future.

Lysa TerKeurst says the more appropriate question is, “What?” I remember when we lost our daughter in a car accident, I didn’t care why. It didn’t matter why. Knowing why wouldn’t bring her back, so who cares? I did, however, need to know what. What do I do with this? What do You want me to do, Lord? What next? I had planned to focus on her for the next three years. I wanted to help her make the transition to our new community and get through high school. I knew after that, it was likely that I would have a lot less time to spend with her. I thought I had three years. But I didn’t. So, now that the whole focal point of my life was gone, what was I supposed to do?

I’ve been seeking the answer to that question for seven years now, and somehow, I think I’ll be on this quest as long as I live on planet earth. As long as I’m growing, learning and changing, the answer to the “What next?” question changes as well. We’ve had several other major transitions in life since our daughter was killed, and with those situations, I’ve been more tempted to ask, “Why?” But God continues to remind me to ask, “What?” instead.

So today, in what situations are You asking God, “Why?” How would asking, “What?” change how you approach that situation? Once you begin to ask God, “What?” better buckle up and hold on tight! You may be in for the ride of your life!

Has Anyone Seen My Passion?

Has anyone seen my passion? How about my drive or ambition? My positivity? My energy? I seem to have lost them. As I silently asked these questions last Friday, I wallowed in all the unfairness of life, pinpointing whose fault it is (certainly not mine!) I desperately asked God what I was doing wrong! “Do You want me to quit my job? Step down from my position in Women’s Ministry? What? What do You want me to do?!”


Yesterday, our pastor preached the second sermon in his series, entitled, “The Hole in Our Gospel,” based on World Vision’s CEO, Rich Stearns’ book by the same name. Our pastor’s sermon title was, “The Hole in Me.” By communion time, I was in tears. I have a hole in me! There is no hole in The Gospel, but there is a hole in My Gospel—the way I live it out.

As I received communion on Sunday, I knew there was a hole in me. I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I knew God was getting ready to reveal it. My pastor said that the two big holes are the hole of Faith and the hole of Submission. I realized my hole was one of submission. There was something I was holding onto and not submitting to God.

As I continued pondering and praying as I went about my morning, I began to see my sin. I have dealt with this sin before—many times. How could I have missed it—again?! So, I confessed it—again. I journaled about it. I began to see how it has sapped my energy and drive—again. But you know what? I wrote a very short, simple prayer of confession, and the minute I looked up from my journal, the world around me seemed brighter. My chest felt lighter! I could breathe better. A tension was gone. It is amazing what such a simple prayer can do!

As I continued through my day, another hole in me started to come into focus. For over ten years, I have wrestled with God over some huge family issues—a rebellious child, the death of my second child, and the long, painful process of adopting another child. I have been steeped in guilt, grief, crisis and an uncertain future for years! My firstborn is still not living the life that I have always dreamed for him, but he’s too old for me to tell him what to do. My second born is safe and secure in the arms of God, and the adoption of our 3-year-old has been finalized. I have no monstrous goal looming on my horizon, I have worked through my grief, and my firstborn is not in my control. And now God is asking me to lay all that down. I have allowed those things to define me long enough.

When you live in the midst of grief and crisis for so long, you begin find a sick kind of comfort there. You begin to think that it somehow makes you special. Without the crisis, I’m just an average person. Forgive me, but I’ve never wanted to be average.

I remember hearing Joyce Meyer saying that God can’t bring beauty from ashes until you give them to Him. I have to let go of my ashes. I want beauty in place of them, but I’ll never get it until I give them up. My ashes must no longer define me, they must not consume my prayer time or my thought life. It’s time for me to give them up. Somehow that’s scary for me. I can’t explain it, but I do find comfort in my ashes like a germ-ridden, worn out velveteen rabbit. Even though it may be making me sick, I don’t want to give it up, whether it represents my sin or my grief, it’s hard to let go. But until I do, it will continue to sap my strength, my energy, my passion, and my drive.

It takes a step of faith to let them go to you, Lord. Can I trust You with them? Tonight, with trembling hands, I reluctantly turn my ashes over to you. Please treat them gently, they are a part of me. They are precious, they are sacred.