The Christian and the Atheist Agree: Nothing Matters

I'm an unapologetic, evangelical born-again Christian.  There are enough adjectives in that statement to let you know I'm serious about my faith.

I also happen to be very good friends with an unapologetic, militant atheist.  One who is as determined that his extreme position is correct as I am about mine.

He's a delightful person and we have incredibly stimulating conversations that leave my neurons buzzing for hours afterwards.

And we have more in common than you might think.
Here's the absolute truth that both of us believe.  (Although, ironically, he would argue here about the existence of absolute truth!)

Nothing matters.

That's it!  Two words we can wholeheartedly agree on at the end of the day.

His circumstances don't matter because he doesn't matter.  He's a conglomeration of cells that came together purely by chance and for no obvious purpose.  There's no moral imperative for him to behave by any set of rules other than the ones he determines matter.  He will live his life and die and turn into so much worm food; ashes to ashes and dust to dust and the world can continue turning, oblivious to his birth and his death and everything in between, as new little piles of ashes and dust are birthed into new people to take his place with no apparent purposes of their own.  In his worldview, nothing matters.


My circumstances don't matter, either, but for different reasons, all of them completely opposite of my friend's.  I was woven together in the secret place of my mother's womb and all of the days ordained for me were written down before one of them came to be.  God chose the time and place of my birth, my life, my death.  He numbers the hairs on my head and collects my tears in a jar.  He is familiar with all of my ways:  the words on my tongue before they're spoken; the thoughts of my mind; the motives of my heart.  He looks upon my inward being.  He created good works for me to do in advance and fills me with His Spirit and His power to complete them. My life is brimming with purpose and what I do in His name will last forever in His eternal kingdom. And the reason that my circumstances don't matter is that everything - EVERYTHING! - that comes my way is considered and approved and tempered by His will for my life.  Whether blissful or tragic, I can trust that the Creator of the Universe is working on my behalf, wasting nothing in His plans to finish the good work that He started in me the day I became His child.  Even death has lost its sting, because ultimately some tragic circumstance will steal the breath out of my lungs and use up my very last heartbeat.  On that day, my eyes will open to a more glorious reality than anything I've asked or imagined as I see my Heavenly Father face to face.

Nothing can thwart God's purposes for my life, so great is His love, His power, His grace towards me. This is why I can laugh during a biopsy, smile through tears at a funeral, face the endless tasks of the day with joy in my heart.  Because everything about my life matters to God, nothing that happens in this world has to matter all that much to me.  As I place my life, my hopes, my dreams, my circumstances under His lordship, I can also release my fears, doubts, and concerns for the future into His capable hands.  The more days that I walk in His light, the more quickly my heart settles into this restful mindset when circumstances spin out of my control.

When tragedy strikes on a random Thursday afternoon, my friend can only shake his head and consider that nothing really matters.

I can do the same, resting in the full assurance that God has everything under control.  I pray daily that my friend will eventually come to the same wonderful conclusion when he puts his faith in Jesus.

It's Puzzling

A 2000 piece puzzle and the big blocks of color are completed, leaving about 500 pieces that are all nuanced shades of grey, blue and green.  This is when the amateurs walk away from the table and I resign myself to finish the puzzle on my own. 

Any serious puzzler knows the logical steps:  perimeter, major colors, piece by piece sorting for the remainder of colors, then a second piece by piece sorting through what's left with even more stringent sorting criteria.  Every step results in piles, and every pile becomes more homogeneous until the final groupings are just shades of the last remaining color.

Even though the end seems to be the hardest part, by this time I'm so familiar with the boxtop picture, the colors, shapes, textures.... that I can basically reach in, pull out a piece and almost instantaneously know in what area it belongs.  I'm not sure if there's any better training in observation than this.  The concentration and skill required admittedly make me a bit arrogant, and I'll admit to feeling suspiciously wary of those flighty folks who can't sit still once the obvious pieces are settled in their place and things become more challenging.  I'll admit it:  I'm a bit of a puzzle snob.  The progress is slow but every time I walk by the table I stop and add a few pieces, and before long the gaps close in like slow forming ice in the wintertime.  I have the same feeling as when finishing a really good book -- I can't wait to be done but am saddened by the end of the journey at the same time.  

And finally there are random holes and 30 lonely pieces left and I'm ignoring everything but shapes.  This one has a big head and a downward right shoulder.  This is a four-legged; that has a shoulder and is right handed.  Occasionally there are more openings than pieces and I drop to the floor searching for what the cat might have knocked off the table these last few weeks.  Sometimes the last piece is hiding on a finished area of the puzzle itself, camouflaged by the shiny reflection and only found by running my hands over the surface, enjoying the contradictory smoothness and bumpiness under my fingers.  The last piece is deservedly placed with some fanfare, which in my house generally includes a long, slow arc with a fitting tune that ends in some kind of "Ta Dah!"  And another running of my hands over the glossy surface just to stretch out the sense of accomplishment.  Because it seems dismissive to immediately put them away, finished puzzles remain out for at least a day or two before I dismantle them, the perimeter first so they can be placed into a sealed bag on top of the rest of the pieces, a quick and easy start for the next time I pull out this particular box.  I know that some people view jigsaw puzzles as a waste of time, but for me they're a wonderful escape -- one of the few times my mind stops racing about all that needs to be done and I can lose track of To Do lists and the worries of the day.  So pull up a chair, Friend, and let's be puzzled together!

Neighbor, May I Please Have Your Earrings?

From Exodus 12:

35 Now the children of Israel had done according to the word of Moses, and they had asked from the Egyptians articles of silver, articles of gold, and clothing. 36 And the Lord had given the people favor in the sight of the Egyptians, so that they granted them what they requested.

I am feeling more and more like an Israelite as the July 1 moving day approaches.  An Israelite with the benefit of knowing the end of the Red Sea story, of course, but still.

I imagine the people thought Moses was crazy when he told them to go ask the Egyptians for their silver, gold and clothing.  Imagine!  Your God is bringing plague after plague upon these people because of their stubborn Pharaoh -- and none of the plagues are affecting you.  You and your people are slaves, and you're asking them to simply hand over their silver, gold and fine clothing?

Yes.  Yes, I am.  Because "....God had given the Israelites favor in the sight of the Egyptians."  I imagine the Egyptians realized how unjust Pharaoh had treated this group of people.  I imagine they saw the suffering and how the Israelites continued holding their heads high despite the mistreatment.  I imagine a few of the Egyptians were even secretly rooting for these downtrodden slaves to be liberated.

Just like my friends are rooting for me to be liberated from the bondage of the past 15 years.  My wish list doesn't include gold and silver, but I am putting together a list of household needs.  (Since I've determined to not take anything associated with bad memories, you can imagine I'm packing up very little.)  And of course on moving day I'm going to need a few friends with pickups and even more friends with muscles.  And friends who will carry small boxes and chat with the girls and help them deal with the stress of moving out of the only house they've ever known.  Friends who will notice my needs and say, "I can help you with that."

My needs aren't just for some furniture and appliances, though.  Check out my current prayer list regarding this move:

An apartment / condo that fits my very meager and laughable budget.

Which becomes available on July 1.

In the West Shore school district, just in case I have to pull the girls from their wonderful Christian school.

But praying to NOT pull the girls from their wonderful Christian school!

With at least two bedrooms and preferably three.

That allows us to take our menagerie: 1 BabyCat, 2 rats, 2 gerbils and 2 goldfish.

That moves us far enough away from the old house to give much-needed space, yet close enough to make custody drop-off convenient.

For a custody agreement to be made privately and amicably to avoid the court system as much as possible.

For peace and security to fill the hearts of my daughters throughout.

For financial blessings as I learn to live on a single income.

For a new and smaller car with low mileage and at the right price.

For wisdom as I make decisions I haven't had to think about for years -- phone service? internet? insurance? etc.

For a strong awareness of God's presence to combat my loneliness.

For the plans of the enemy (to steal, kill and destroy) to be completely thwarted throughout our move -- by the power of Jesus' blood that covers Faith, Abby and Sarah.

I know how ridiculous this list sounds, but that's the kind of faith I have in the amazing God we serve.

I imagine it also sounded pretty crazy when Moses told the people, "Ask your Egyptian neighbors for their gold, silver and clothes."  And even more insane when he said, "Get ready, we're going to cross the Red Sea shortly!"

Friends, I need your gold and silver.  No, not your jewelry or your money -- but something even more valuable to me:  your prayers and encouragement and support.  The Israelites weren't too proud to ask their Egyptian neighbors and neither am I.  Please lift the DelliGirlies before the throne of grace.  Pray through that list with me and ask the God who parts seas to open apartments and welcome pets and provide a vehicle and heal the hearts of little (and big) girls.

With Gratefulness for Your Love and Friendship,

Sarah