My mom is a sweet lady, but man do I fear her! She comes in at 5 feet tall and maybe 100 pounds, but she’ll get ya. Mom was sweet when she needed to be, but she would bust that butt too. She had certain expectations, and one of those was to behave in church. SWEET LORD. When I was really young, we went to a Pentecostal church that was lively and happenin.’ The services were full of singin’, testifyin’, dancin’, and a good two-hour commitment, maybe longer. I would love that now, but as a little kid on Wednesday nights and Sunday mornings, I struggled to sit still. Mom packed a punch and she packed a wooden spoon in her purse for good measure. She would get the spoon out and just show it to me when she warned me the first couple of times. That spoon was as much psychological as it was force-ological. But if she got to the third time, it was lights out and a trip to the bathroom. Not only was she going to get me for the misbehavior, but for the embarrassment. I’m sure she came back into the sanctuary with that look in mom code world that other ladies understood and applauded. I am not sure what is worse- the actual spanking or the walk of shame on the way there when your wrist is clinched in your mother’s furious grip. I have never looked at wooden spoons the same way! As I got older, the wooden spoon got put away but mom got her point across in different ways. There were times when I got spanked on the spot, times that I had to wait until Dad got home (which is the worst), times I got grounded, times she took things away, and every time it was followed by “do you understand why this happened?”
I say this like I need inner healing, but I am seriously grateful that she loved me enough to discipline me. Love communicates boundaries, and my mom loved me too much to allow me to act some kind of way. She loved me enough to teach me right from wrong. And as an adult, I am fortunate that I had and have a mom like her. I understand and have a good recollection of earthly discipline. In this season, I am coming to understand and recognize the ways my heavenly father is disciplining me in the supernatural. When I started praying and asking God to move me into the place I am now, I do not think I realized what I was really asking… as Bill Johnson would say, most of us do not know what we are asking for when we plead with God for the big things. He goes on to say that when we ask him for the big things, we are actually asking to be changed. But for us to survive the answer, he has to change us. All of God’s disciplines are so we can survive his blessings. A good Father lovingly disciplines, just like mom.
It is becoming evident that it is a painful privilege to be put through discipline by the most loving father in the universe.
Jesus loves me too much to allow me to stay the way I am. He sees the beginning from the end, and he knows that the immaturity that I am most comfortable with cannot stay if where he is taking me requires a growing up. It’s hard. What I would normally hide behind, use as my martyrdom, and my excuse is gone. Right now, I want to put the professional cloak back on. Right now, I want to put the gainfully employed cloak back on. I knew how to do life with those cloaks on. I knew how to savor the weekends, savor the little time I had off of work, I knew how to caulk the wagon and wade stress. Right now, I am exposed. Right now, I have nothing to hide behind. Right now, my closet is being emptied out. Right now, I have a wide-open calendar and instead of that feeling like freedom, it feels suffocating. Right now, Jesus is singeing away pride. He is singeing away false identity and it is painful. At times, it feels embarrassing. At times, I would rather have a literal wooden spoon bathroom trip than to continue this way not knowing when it stops and how much more he will remove. I feel like I have been stripped down and Jesus has pressed the reset button.
There are factory settings that you and I are hard-wired with that can get lost. Jesus is asking me some hard questions. Suffering and discipline were never supposed to feel good, but the scary reality is as adults we avoid it. And then when it starts to happen, we are like "what the heck did I just do?" Promotion is connected to our ability to suffer. We skim over the parts that talk about suffering persecution. Since I said yes, there has been some turmoil and conflict. I rested on securities that were not Him, and he is removing them. Identity is something we have to be trained in, it’s not a one and done. And training for anything takes time. Identity in Christ is not always something that comes naturally. The singeing of pride hurts, but he cannot promote pride. As dearly loved children, we have our father’s resemblance and likeness.
The family resemblance is suffering.
“But with joy let us exult in our sufferings and rejoice in our hardships, knowing that hardship produces patient endurance; and endurance, proven character (spiritual maturity); and proven character, hope, and confident assurance” (Romans 3-4 AMP).
I have to laugh at God’s sense of humor in all of this. I am still getting disciplined at church. The little girl who couldn’t sit still is still having trouble with that. I want the answer now, and the fullness now but I do not want the process. We cannot get to the resurrection without the crucifixion. Am I willing to undergo the spiritual proverbial wooden spoon in the areas I need it? Can I allow the Holy Spirit to pull me aside and gently ask "do you understand why this needs to happen?"