I Got It, Dad. I Got It

                                                                                           Reflections on 1 John 2:15

“Do not love the world nor the things in the world.

If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.

1 John 2:15

He wakes up at 4:00 in the morning and looks at his bedside clock. The ache in his stomach swells and he knows he’ll never get back to sleep. It happens nearly every day now. He doesn’t want to go to work.

He slips out of bed and quietly goes down to the kitchen to make some coffee, not wanting to wake the family. He sits at the breakfast table and stares out the window. His mind is already entangled by recent events at the office. For the last six months, his life has been hell. They’re after him and he knows it.

 

He feels so trapped.

He can’t leave. They need the money. They’ve got too much debt as it is, plus his job carries health benefits, not his wife’s. Even as he puts out his resume now, it’ll take weeks – months – to get a new job. With one in college and another two years away, they’d fall too far back to ever catch up.

But he can’t stay.

Six months ago, his boss took him aside and told him there’d be changes. Turns out, nearly half his department had been in secret meetings to reorg the company and he knew nothing about it. The message was loud and clear: “I don’t care if you’ve been here ten years, you’re either with us or you’re gone.” After hearing the plan, he knew exactly why his boss had kept him in the dark.

“You know I can’t do this,” he pleaded back then. “It’ll tear the company apart. People who work here are going to get hurt. We’ll lose our client base.”

“Well then, sounds like you’ve got a choice to make,” his boss threatened.

Weeks passed, months passed, and he’s barely hanging on by a thread. Even though a few changes were already being implemented, he knew the secret meetings were still going on behind his back. He knew they’d already chosen his replacement. It was a matter of time before the company broke into pieces.

“What are you going to do?” a co-worker asked last week.

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen anything like it,” he said. “Why would anybody destroy the very thing they’ve spent a lifetime building? It doesn’t make any sense to me. I’m a nervous wreck. I’ve just started getting my resume out.”

“Me too. There’s a bunch of us.”

 He remembers the conversation as he makes his morning commute. He thinks about all those who’ve loved working at the company, believed they were making a difference in people’s lives, and would soon be tossed on the street.

And then, almost out of nowhere, he thinks about his dad. He’d do anything right now just to hear his voice, tell him the story, and get his counsel.

Dad, his heart wanted to cry out, I don’t know what to do.

*       *       *

“Do not love the world nor the things in the world.

If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.

1 John 2:15

After work, as he was driving home, just after he safely merged onto the highway, he called his father.

“Dad, this is Mark. How are you doing, Dad?”

“Who’s this?”

“It’s Mark, Dad. How’s the day going for you?”

“It’s Mark, honey,” he heard his mom say in the background. “It’s Mark.”

“Oh Mark, I’m doing fine today, doing fine. How’s your family, Mark? Is everybody well?” he said, his voice the same as Mark had always known.

Everything inside him wanted to lay out the story, piece by piece, play by play, with every last detail. He knew his Dad would see something he couldn’t see. He’d say something, that perfect something, that would calm his heart and ease his mind. But he couldn’t. For the last five years he couldn’t.

Not since he was diagnosed with an early onset of dementia. The last year or so, it’s gotten worse. Sometimes his dad remembers him. Sometimes he doesn’t. But always, just the sound of his Dad’s voice gave him courage.

“I love you, Dad, you know that, right?”

“Me too, son. Me too.”

*       *       *

“Do not love the world nor the things in the world.

If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.

1 John 2:15

He clicked off his phone and, for whatever reason, his mind drifted back ten years – ten years almost to the month. He’d just received the offer to come join the company and he leapt at it. He was ready to quit his old job immediately and called his dad to tell him the good news. He couldn’t wait to tell him.

“You’re not going to believe it!” Mark said as he told him about the job – a real promotion with a senior level title – and a huge jump in salary and benefits.

“So Mark, you’ll take some time and pray about this with Laurie, right?” his Dad said half way through the conversation.

“What’s there to pray about? This is everything we’ve ever hoped for, Dad.”

“Not so fast son,” said his father. “You know the hard lessons I’ve learned in life. We never say ‘yes’ until we take it to the Lord. He has the final say, not us. And you know His kingdom doesn’t revolve around titles and positions, money and big benefit packages. The world lusts for that – we don’t.”

“Yeah, Dad, I know. Laurie and I will pray about it first -- promise.”

And he did, to please his Dad. But there was no way he was going to turn this offer down. He left his other company, took the job, and the rest was history. But then, three months later, it was like he hit a wall. It was the first time he saw something in his boss that just wasn’t right.

“I can’t put my finger on it, Dad,” Mark told his father. “He uses people to get what he wants. And then he tells us one story while others – the people getting fired -- are telling us the exact opposite. It’s not adding up.”

“So what are you going to do, Mark?” his Dad asked.

“I’m going to soldier on, Dad. I’m loyal to a fault, you know that.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Mark replied.

“I’m asking -- what are you going to do when it happens to you?”

*       *       *

“Do not love the world nor the things in the world.

If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.

1 John 2:15

Mark pulled in the driveway and turned off the engine. To this day, he remembers what his father said. It was the perfect advice back then and it was the perfect advice now.

“Mark, we’re not people who belong to this world. I think you know what I’m talking about when I say that.  I know you’ve got an important job. I know you’re a talented young man. I know the pay is beyond what you and Laurie ever imagined in life. But, I’m going to ask you to be careful, son.

“If this pattern continues with your boss, then what’s happening around you will happen to you one day. You’re going to be faced with a choice, hard choice, that will bring you back to the only question that matters in life. Does your heart belong to the world, son? Or does it belong to your Father in heaven? Which is it? And it can’t be both.

“You may think you know the answer right now. But it’s a lot harder when the pressure’s on – when people are talking behind your back – when you’re not sure where the next pay check is coming from. You know I know what I’m talking about here. It’s not easy son. It’s not easy. So I’m asking you to be careful, Mark. Be real careful.”

“I got it, Dad. I got it,” Mark said out loud, though no one was there to hear him. For the first time in six months, with tears streaming down his face, Mark knew exactly what his Dad – his heavenly Dad -- wanted him to do.

Sing It Again and Again

                                              Reflections on 1 John 2:12-14

                        “I am writing to you, little children,

       because your sins have been forgiven you for His name's sake.

I am writing to you, fathers,

       because you know Him who has been from the beginning.

I am writing to you, young men,

       because you have overcome the evil one.”

1 John 2:12-13

 She first wrote this poem in her journal in her senior year at college. Then again, after her second daughter was born. And now, in her mid-thirties, she writes it again. It never seems to go away.

     I have the greatest gift 

         a woman could ever dream

    A host of people who love me strong 

        and hold me tight.

    But a song in my head, 

       buried deep in my heart

    Somehow always steals it from my sight.

    “You never get it right, little girl. You never get it right.”

    As my daddy closed the bedroom door every night.

She and her husband have three children now. They vowed, while their first was still in the womb, to never do what her father did to her. They’d sing blessing over their children, night after night, and Jesus to be theirs forever. They’d lift them up and not push them down. Help them and not harm them.

Every night, a song. A prayer. Before the lights went out.

                                                                *       *       *

It confuses her every time. Why can’t she get passed it?

Two months ago, she put a report on her boss’ desk, two days before it was due. It was bold, innovative, risky and shot straight. A week later she was gently reprimanded – in front of three of her colleagues no less. She was told to do it again but this time, just facts. No editorials.

Not good enough, she thought to herself. Never good enough.

Then three weeks ago, she and her husband had a teacher’s meeting. Their second child, Madison, had fallen behind in her schoolwork and wasn’t behaving well with some of her classmates. It came as a total surprise. She’d thought her sweet Madison was doing so well at school. She seemed so happy.

“It’s my fault”, she blurted out to the third grade teacher. “I’ll work harder with her at home. This won’t happen again, promise.”

Then, last Saturday, it came to a head. The kids were out playing in the yard when her husband wandered into the kitchen and quietly whispered, “Honey, you’ve got to back off on the kids. You’re pushing them too hard.”

“I am not!” she thundered back.

“I think you know that’s not true,” he volleyed.

She came strong against her husband. The last thing she needed was one more person telling her she wasn’t good enough – how she raised her kids wasn’t good enough – how she did her work at the office wasn’t good enough. She was doing her best and if her best wasn’t good enough – tough. It was all she had.

I’m not backing down, she vowed to herself. I can’t. I won’t.

The conversation ended abruptly. But late that night, she couldn’t sleep. She went and sat in the bedroom chair, turned on the night light over her head, grabbed her Bible and journal, and began to write. But all she could write, over and over again, was the song screeching in her head, buried in her heart.

“You never get it right, 

  little girl. 

  You never get it right.”

  As my daddy closed 

  the bedroom door 

  every night.

*       *       *

It’s hard to hear the songs in the Bible. We read the lyrics but when the lyrics have lost the melody, the harmonies, the sound of the voices and the passions behind the voices, the mystery of the song is lost and the gift of music missed.

Songs were meant to be sung and sung again. Repeated and repeated again until they dig deep into every fiber of who we are and take root, marking our soul, shaping our lives, building our character, impacting our choices.

And this is exactly what the Apostle John did.

The moment the church was in trouble – being attacked by an enemy gospel and leaders who brought confusion, division, arrogance and pride into the heart of the Christian community – John wrote and in writing began to sing.

                      “I am writing to you, little children,

       because your sins have been forgiven you for His name's sake.

I am writing to you, fathers,

       because you know Him who has been from the beginning.

I am writing to you, young men,

       because you have overcome the evil one.

I have written to you, children,

       because you know the Father.

I have written to you, fathers,

       because you know Him who has been from the beginning.

I have written to you, young men,

       because you are strong,

       and the word of God abides in you,

       and you have overcome the evil one.”

                                                                        1 John 2:12-14

Read it fast and you’ll miss it.

Sing it once, sing it twice. Sing it until you know it and then sing it again. Sing it until the song leaps from the mind to the heart, the heart to the soul, and then do it for a week, a year, a decade, a lifetime. And when the time comes and you know the song is true, really true for you, you’ll know in the Lord, by His strong and mighty hand, a new freedom has come.

Because all the songs that came before it will have finally, forever…

Disappeared.

*       *       *

She cried when she first read it. When the movie came out, she cried again. It struck too close to home. It’s exactly what she didn’t have growing up and it’s exactly what she vowed she’d give her children until the day she dies.

A song, simple and clear, written on their heart.

                    “You is kind. You is smart. You is important.” ¹

It’s why she signed up to teach the children at Sunday school. It’s why she’s part of a weekly Bible study. She’s learning to sing the “songs of Zion.” ²  She’s taking the promises of God to her heart. And the more time passes, the louder these songs are becoming inside her as a person, as a woman.

“I know, I believe,” she writes in her journal, “the song the Apostle John sang.”

…my sins have been forgiven me

                        …I have overcome the evil one

                        …I know the Father

                        …I know I am strong

                        …I know the word of God abides in me…

But still it confuses her.

The moment crisis happens on any front – work, home, relationships…the instant she doesn’t perform to her standard or the standard someone else sets for her…and God-forbid she has a bad day, tired, irritable, sick, overstressed, pushed to the max and pushed again...whether it’s big things or small things, whatever trips her out of the God-zone and into the me-zone…

The old song comes back, haunting her.

Making her see her husband, children, friends, herself, her boss, through a negative, critical eye because nothing is ever right. Nothing ever perfect. And she suddenly finds herself insisting, demanding perfection.

Because that’s what the song says.

                        “You never get it right, little girl. You never get it right.”

                        As my daddy closed the bedroom door every night.

And she wonders when the Lord will let freedom come to her soul. When that song will have played for the last time and finally, forever…

Disappear.

¹ Kathryn Stockett, The Help, Amy Einhorn Books, G. P. Putnam’s sons, New York, 2009. p. 443

² Psalm 137:3