Day 13. One of
the challenges of writing this series on my mom’s response to the Purpose
Driven Life is that I must try to filter what she emphasized through the life
that I remember. That is like seeing the
tip of an iceberg and assuming that it is like an ice cube when it is really
like a mountain floating in the sea. All
you can see it the pinnacle. There is so
much more that remains unseen. I must
resist the temptation of imagining in lieu of knowing. So, as I scan the pages of the book, I wait
for something to catch hold of a memory.
"There is nothing, absolutely nothing, more important than developing a
friendship with God.” (p99 note) I remember after coming back from
Vietnam, I stayed at the house for a while.
Recall, I returned to a transformed house. A place that honored God first and
foremost. Well, I returned with some habits
that were consistent with Mom and Don’s old life, but not their new one. The music I listened to. Some of the music used God’s name in
vain. Racy for the 1970’s. I would bring beer into the house and Mom
would toss it in the trash. I would
smoke cigarettes in the house. All these things that had once been “acceptable”
were no more. I was disrespecting my parents,
but I really didn’t care.
I drank excessively after I returned from Vietnam. Alcohol was the “drug of choice” for
generations of veterans coping with PTSD after returning from war. It was not any different for me. One day, I
was in the truck on a delivery with Don.
He said “Your mom packed your bags and put them on the porch. You will have to find some place to live.” I
knew that I deserved it. I called one of
my sisters and she helped me find an apartment, that day.
I am convinced that mom’s decision was a difficult one for her. And yet, she chose to honor God even if it
meant rejecting me, my life choices really.
We are faced with decisions like that every day. If there are children, brothers and sisters, friends
that contend for your devotion, that demand that you choose them over God, I
want you to know that it is normal. And
it is difficult.
Your heart may say “embrace your children.” No matter what. Even if it means embracing their sin and rejecting
God’s truth. Mom and I never talked about that day. We didn’t need to. So what would have happened
if she had tolerated it? I would have
continued to disrespect them and their new way of life. I might even have represented a temptation in my doing the very things that were no longer part of their lives. I really don’t know. But I do know that it is a lesson I will not
forget. It is a lesson that has shaped
me and helped me understand that we will have to make difficult choices. Choices that require putting God ahead of our
hearts.
(Luke 9:59-62) “He [Jesus] said
to another man, “Follow me.” But he replied, Lord, first let me go and bury my
father.” Jesus said to him, “Let the dead bury their own dead, but you go and
proclaim the kingdom of God.” Still another said, “I will follow you, Lord; but
first let me go back and say goodbye to my family.” Jesus replied, “No one who
puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of
God.”
There will always be a tension created by the demands between our old and
new natures. Listening to someone you love tell you that you are not a good
person, even a good Christian, if you choose God over them can be heart wrenching. Like Lot’s wife who
looked back to Sodom after God sent them away from the city to spare their
lives. Her heart never left the
city. To live our new life requires
faith in God. Don’t expect the world, even your family, to rejoice when you say
“no” to them and “yes” to God. Mom was
willing to make that choice. Over the
years, Martie and I have had to make that choice. Was it easy? No. Was it necessary? Absolutely. Will they like you for it? Probably not. Will it cause division? Perhaps. Can you do it? Yes, but it requires spiritual
discernment and the power of God in your life which results from your choosing
God above all else. Thanks you Mom! Thank you Jesus!
Note: Taken from The Purpose Driven Life by Rick
Warren Copyright © 2002 by Rick Warren. Use by permission of Zondervan.