I'm
looking around at these incredible young people (and some not so young)
that I am privileged to walk alongside in discipleship, and I am seeing
some things. This is a generation that wants to rise up and put action
to its faith, to live a life set apart, to live with consistency to its
beliefs, willing to do the hard things to see wrongs righted, with
hearts full of justice. They've witnessed firsthand the pain of
divorce, abuse, war, poverty, hatred. And I am from the generation that
has been impacted personally by a lot of these tragedies. I have been abused. I am divorced. And I have been guilty of parenting out of fear, of wanting to protect my daughter from pain, from the pain I experienced. So
I trained her to make wise choices, to avoid foolishness, to reject the
worlds way of doing things, to stay in the highest tower, separated
from a world that surely would tear her apart irreparably, to protect
her heart above all else. To avoid risk.
These are good things. They are born of a pure desire. There is wisdom in this counsel. But...
We
are living only half a life. A life shaded in sepia tones, not full
color. I see a generation that wants to rise up and say 'no, I trust
GOD, He is my protector - not me, not you. I trust Him with my heart. I
will risk, I will walk in transparency, I will be vulnerable.' They
are teaching me.
And
yet there are many who are afraid. Frozen in fear. Literally.
Frozen. Passive. They get encouraged and step out, but within a few
days, fall back into fear. It's maddening, it's frustrating, it's part
of the process of growing. Oh Lord, how patient You are with us.
I
think we, the Church, the elders, are to blame. We've partnered with
Fear as we've counseled and discipled these earnest young people. We've
taken the purity of God's word, of Fear of the Lord, of wisdom - and
we've mixed it with fear of hurt, of pain, of mistakes. We have sold
them the message that if they can just live out perfect wisdom, they can
live a life without regret, without needless pain. A mixture. A bit
of truth, a bit of fear...we've been sold a bill of goods and we've
turned around and sold it again. Say what!??
I'm
staring at it in the face, right now, as we speak. Love. Surely it
can't be something simple, such a big decision. There's so much
pressure - a coffee date becomes the equivalent of saying 'I
do'...really? Can't we just enjoy one another's company? When did we
get so freaked out about a boy and a girl spending time together? I
confess I was there. No more!
I
am a huge proponent of purity - sexual and otherwise. But I'm seeing
that we've preached this word from a place of fear. Instead of teaching
our kids how to STEWARD their sexuality in healthy ways, we've
essentially taught them to cut it off, to pretend it doesn't exist. On
their marriage night, apparently it's just supposed to magically turn on
- a simple flip of the switch, and it all comes together. So our kids
are left defenseless - either they can't do that and live in the shame
of having made mistakes or they shut it down and throw away the key.
How do either of these scenarios glorify God, who gave us our sexuality
as an incredible gift? Yet we didn't learn how to steward it, and we
live in the regret of poor choices, so we teach our kids to live by a
thousand rules so they don't find themselves in a place of temptation.
Don't be alone with a boy. Keep yourself covered up. Don't touch.
Don't look. Shut down any thoughts about them.
Here's
a shocker. What if we taught them well about the temptations, gave
them tools to walk with integrity and courage, and then released them to
learn? What if we trusted them, and more importantly, trusted God with
them? What if? Are we so afraid, so convinced of their fallibility,
that we refuse to do this? Again, it starts in a pure place, but look
at how it spirals out of control if we are not watching. The enemy
twists it and makes it ridiculous. A spirit of religion, a spirit of
fear. Lord, rescue us from ourselves! Oh wait, you already did. Lord,
give us the strength and wisdom and discernment to cut down these lies
and to separate Your truth from them! To untangle this big ball of
string!