Cheap Grace

My one home treatment for BPPV, or vertigo, had been very effective, but there was still a lingering nausea. Just a teeny weeny bit. So I decided I needed a second treatment. After all, the literature said that I was to do the procedure 5 times in each set, three times a day till the symptoms were gone. I had only done it 3 times in one set, because it caused temporary increase in nausea and at heart, I am a wimp. But, feeling almost within grasp of total normalcy, I decided to risk the temporary discomfort for the permanent blessing that would ensue.

According to the literature, I had a choice of two treatment techniques. One was gentler, but not quite as effective. One was described as intense, but highly effective. I am an extremist, thus guess which one I chose? I followed the set requirements to the t this time. (What does it mean "to the T"? T is not the end...Z is. Why don't we follow it to the Z?) As it turns out, I didn't follow it to the Z. I could only get 4 sets in before I felt so violently nauseous that I decided to terminate treatment immediately and abandon ship. I struggled to the recliner where my worried husband found me and suggested I drink gatorade. He is a good man, and indeed Gatorade is highly desired when one's electrolyte balance is off. However, when one has just screwed up the semicircular canals in the vestibular system, there is no magic drink that will solve the issue.

 "I should've done the gentler treatment," I groaned. I then developed a splitting headache, and photophobia. I thought perhaps I had misdiagnosed myself and I had the flu or a brain tumor. I went on line and discovered that the technique I had used can set off migraines. Best to use the gentler technique called the Epley technique. Then I read how the technique is reversed depending on which ear the little errant crystal is bobbing around loose in the vestibular system. OOPs. I knew the errant ear was the left ear, but I had done the treatment on the right ear. You can tell which ear is the culprit as the dizziness is most severe when you lay on the bad ear side. So, I decided to go for broke. I took instructions for the Epley gentler maneuver and did it for the correct ear. This time, the nausea subsided, and today, I feel fine.

I thought about how similar all of life is to this little vignette, this snapshot of my day.  Life is often glorious, but none of us get through it without at times, extreme discomfort. We sometimes settle for quick fixes,  that don't really address the malady...or even make it worse! We look to the wrong cure to get out of the mess quickly, but we don't find the source of eternal health. At least I do. Friedrich Bonhoeffer called this tendency in the spiritual life, "cheap grace."  We want the blessing, but we don't want the sacrifice or work that comes with it.
Our worship becomes perfunctory, and as quick as possible so we can feel virtuous without putting in too much effort. Our prayers become rote. Our passion becomes lukewarm.

Guilty, I admit, shaking my head sadly.
Ooops, don't shake too hard or you will undo all that treatment to put the floating crystal back where it belongs.

2 Samuel 24:23-25

²³ Your Majesty, Araunah gives all this to the king.” Araunah also said to him, “May the LORD your God accept you.”
 ²⁴ But the king replied to Araunah, “No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the LORD my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing.”
   So David bought the threshing floor and the oxen and paid fifty shekel of silver for them. ²⁵ David built an altar to the LORD there and sacrificed burnt offerings and fellowship offerings. Then the LORD answered his prayer in behalf of the land, and the plague on Israel was stopped.

Good Intentions

As I listened to the Gavel Club member, a little 11 year old giving her speech about the wonderful life she had, I was squirming in my seat. Her parents punctuate each day with a special meal, a special tradition. Every Sunday is French Toast and bacon. Every Friday eve, the dad takes the daughter out alone to a special meal. Every day, the kids harvest the garden they planted to make a fresh grown lunch for the family. She spent a long time talking about how wonderful those Sunday meals of French Toast were, and how she couldn't wait for Sunday.

I don't know about you, but I am really good at comparing myself with others and falling short. I know we are always counseled not to do this, but sometimes a little reality check is not a bad thing. I almost never make the kids breakfast. We have a breakfast food closet, and they learned from a young age to rummage there. I rarely bake wonderful goodies, and truth be told, I am not very fond of cooking. I eat to live, but I don't live to eat. Food just isn't very high on my priority list. As I listened to the little girl, however, I realized that I needed to be making more of an effort to make memories of a home filled with the smells of a loving mother making cookies, and french toast.

I think God was already preparing my spirit for this message. A week ago, I made a huge batch of cookies to send to Matt and his lovely new wife, Karissa. I made a second batch for my son Anders, who had just moved into a new apartment in Boston. And then I made a third batch for Asherel.  It was nice to have the house smell like something other than dogs.

But after the little girl's speech, I knew a once every 6 month batch of cookies was not sufficient.
Asherel came out of her room to start school. She headed to the breakfast food rummage closet.
"Do you want me to make French Toast?:" I asked.
"Sure..." she said, a little confused, her voice trailing off in suspicion.
"What for?" she asked finally.
"You like French Toast, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Well, then I am making you some."
 She watched me a little warily out of the corner of her eye as she gathered her Bible study books.

I was surprised how I could still remember how to make French Toast. As I whipped up the eggs, I marveled at how wonderful the vanilla smelled and how lovely the golden color of milk swirling with the beaten eggs looked. The butter sizzled. Even the dogs' noses were twitching as they trolled for food, swarming like sharks in the kitchen. I plopped the French Toast in the pan, and hurried over to the computer to check my email, while that side cooked.

Oh no. Every morning I wake up to a disaster, sent me courtesy of the world wide web. I began typing my response, wondering how the world existed without my input in the days before email.

"I'm getting hungry, Mom," said Asherel, "When will the French Toast be done?"
The French Toast!
I leaped from the computer and raced to the blackened French Toast. I flipped them quickly. One side was perfect. The other was a bit dark...like charcoal. Would she notice? I quickly placed them burnt side down on the plate and smothered them with syrup.

"Looks yum!" she said, "Thanks!"
She was absorbed in her reading (thank God!) and didn't look too closely.
"How's the French Toast?" I called over, as I cleaned the scorched pan.
"It's good," she said. Like a starving dog, my children have learned that when it comes to food in our house, best to not be terribly discriminating.

Now in my defense, I do build memories of wonderful places, travels, adventures. Cooking has never been my forte...but nonetheless, I am feeling convicted that if I do offer up my cooking, it should be Fragrant...and not burnt.
God makes a big deal about memories in the Bible. He commands the Israelites throughout the Book of Leviticus to make fragrant "memorial offerings" to the Lord. I am always intrigued by that use of the word "fragrant". We are not supposed to offer up foul smelling memorials to God. They are to be "fragrant". I thought of my half burnt toast that my daughter happily ate. It was filled with good intention, but was it a "fragrant" offering? (I suspect not as fragrant as she would have ideally preferred.)

And do you know what was foreshadowed by the fragrant offering of the Bible ? God always operates at least on two levels- a physical and a spiritual. My guess is that the sweet smelling memorials and sacrifices were not just so He could freshen the air of Heaven with some good cooking scents. He tells us that ultimately, the sacrificial atonement by the death of Jesus on the cross would be a "fragrant sacrifice". It would be the best that He could give, and its fragrance was one of complete and total submission to the will and desires of the Creator.

I carefully watched the second batch and they came out perfectly. The exact golden brown they should be with crisp edges. I carefully covered them with saran wrap and put them on a plate for Asherel's breakfast tomorrow.
"Tomorrow's French Toast will be really good," I called out to her.

Leviticus 2:1-3

 ¹ “‘When anyone brings a grain offering to the LORD, their offering is to be of the finest flour. They are to pour olive oil on it, put incense on it ² and take it to Aaron’s sons the priests. The priest shall take a handful of the flour and oil, together with all the incense, and burn this as a memorial  portion on the altar, a food offering, an aroma pleasing to the LORD. ³ The rest of the grain offering belongs to Aaron and his sons; it is a most holy part of the food offerings presented to the LORD.

Ephesians 5:2

² and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.