Embracing Life’s Goodness

eagles” Bless the Living One, O my soul,

and do not forget all Their benefits—

… who satisfies you with good as long as you live

so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.”

As I reflect further on this Psalm, which fleshes out the meaning of the Divine name, Yahweh or Jehovah, which God gives to Moses in Exodus 3-4, I am struck by how picturesque the King James rendering of this verse is:

“Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things; so that thy youth is renewed like the eagle’s.”

To me that rendering gives the image of one sitting at a festive dinner table, say at Christmas or Thanksgiving, full and restful.  Their mouth is still savoring the delectable tastes which they have enjoyed.

dinner-table-lBoth renderings of the Psalms, though, identify the presence and working of this One who Lives, this source of true & abundant life, who is revealed to Moses in our experience of goodness and the good things in life.

This is interesting to me with the twin religious backgrounds that framed my own spiritual awakening.

As a child, my parents raised me in the Adventist sect known as the Church of God.   This group was an offshoot of the Seventh Day Adventists who believed in a strict adherence to what they saw the Bible describing.  So if it was in the Bible, we ought to try to do it.  If not, we ought to avoid it.  This practice meant as an early child, we had no birthday parties, no Christmas gifts, no Easter bunny.  These things, the preachers of the Church of God said, are not in the Bible.   Also, no pork at uncle John’s pig picking because – well, the Bible says if you eat pork, you become an abomination.  These were the tip of iceberg in regards to the challenging and different lifestyles my Church of God childhood called me to live out.

As you can imagine, to live out all the strict rules of the Church of God of my childhood required withdrawing from the world a bit.    As a child this strict type of living kept me from important family gatherings.   No Christmas parties, no gathering around the tree with grandma and grandpa or the cousins.   No pig-pickings and dancing that followed, at least not until high school. With that starting place, though much has improved, I still am not as close to cousins, aunts, and uncles as I wish I was even as an adult for, though each of us (even mom and dad) all in different ways abandoned the legalistic backgrounds I grew up in around the beginning of my teen years.

pig pickinThis withdrawal from the world affected relationships with school and what groups I could join.  I remember distinctly sitting outside, with a coloring book, hearing the other kids play and laugh to games at a Christmas party around the time I was 8, because mom and dad, following the dictums of the Adventist Church of God movement, sent a “keep Micah out of all things Christmas” note with me to school.  It was a lonely, rejected feeling to be outside of the fun and friendship occurring in the main school classroom.

I remember too, having to avoid sports groups, music, and events that went on from Friday night to Saturday sundown, since we were told that was the Sabbath and told there must be “no seeking after your own pleasures”.   I remember trying to understand why Cub Scouts, playing T-Ball, or going to a get-together with a friend was something I had to avoid, while feeling that isolating feeling of being like an outsider in my own community.

Religious language was used to justify these rules, with the deep distrust of the good things of this world they taught.   I can remember preachers quoting Revelation’s call for people to “Come out of her”, in reference to Babylon the great Whore, whom they viewed revelation whore of babylonas a symbol for all the deceptive ways the world and its pleasures could lead you astray.  In fact, some preachers would go so far and say this world was not God’s world but the devil’s world, since people were living without following the strict rules God gave.   They looked forward to a “world tomorrow” when Jesus returned, in which the good things could be enjoyed without threat of being contaminated and led astray by their deceptive temptations.

These calls to “come out” from the world were often linked to a repeated quoting of the book of Jeremiah, where the prophet warns us that the heart is deceitful above all things and exceedingly wicked, so who can trust it?   Such tradition taught me in my early years to distrust the good things as they emerge in my life, to expect that pleasure and comfort will come with painful cost.  It taught me too to mistrust my own heart, for it will surely deceive me if I listen to it and lead me astray.

Another major influence during my spiritual awakening in my teens was the charismatic movement, which fostered a radically different attitude toward goodness, pleasure, and enjoying the world that is in front of us.

My exposure to the charismatic movement was in my high school Christian club, a group revival-healingwhere my faith in many ways began to become my own. There I learned to be open to my emotions in prayer, to trust that it is in the very heart I had been taught to not listen to in my childhood Adventist experience that the Spirit moves and speaks.

Also, some charismatics I met came to believe that God wanted you to have here and now what made life good.  If you pray and trust, God can heal diseases.  God can give wealth.  God can give success.  God can lead you to that perfect spouse, that perfect family.

Just as there were excesses in my childhood experience of the Adventist movement’s take on this concept, so I witnessed excesses here.  I remember seeing people try so hard to have the faith for themselves or another to no longer experience a disease or struggle, only to have it escalate the more they tried to believe and pray.

The other night I talked with someone close to me who like me had their faith awaken among charismatics but also me now has also become deeply progressive in their theology.  We swapped stories about those close to us who we saw follow this sense of leading in their hearts they called Spirit yet which led to broken relationships, debt, falling into dangerous relationships, and all around heartache. We both had many examples.

As I return to this line from the Psalm, I wonder.  What does it mean to have the good things which God fills our life with be manifestations of God’s presence?

I think that a key is these good things are the things that renew our lives.

In truth, some things we long for and want may in fact not be good for us long term.  And it can be hard to see that in the short term.

letting-goLooking back, some of the experiences which in the moment I loved – certain jobs I worked, certain places I’ve lived, and especially certain relationships I’d been in – ultimately, long term, ended up being dead ends.  To stay in that place, to continue in that job, to remain in that relationship, would have meant becoming stuck, stagnant, and not living up to the fullness of who I can be.

And some painful experiences of loss – having a commitment I was in like a ministry or job fall apart around me, having a person I loved pass or a relationship I valued end, for instance – have been just what I needed to break me open so that I was able to grow, see the world with new eyes, and change.

Yet through it all, each of these experiences that brought me joy, relationships where I learned more about myself and others, jobs and projects where I made a difference, all brought some measure of life to me.  They helped shape me to be the person I’ve become.

We need to be open to the goodness before us, not feeling required to pull away from relationships, pleasures, joys, or good experiences as I learned to do in my childhood.  We also need to realize that there is also goodness in loss, suffering, pain, if we are open to the lessons those teach.

To look for the living God is to look for the good present both in pleasure and in moments of pain.   To stay open to where in each experience openings appear to allow you to become more full, alive, whole.

How have you lived this balance in your own life?

Your progressive redneck preacher,





One thought on “Embracing Life’s Goodness

  1. Thank you, Micah, for sharing parts of your story. A person’s story is not something to be critiqued by me or any person. So I will just reflect on our two stories and make some comparisons and contrasts.

    Your quote in the last graphic was interesting: “Sometimes letting things go is an act of far greater power than defending or hanging on.” In Letter 6 of “Love Letters to a Rainbow Group” I describe why I stayed in the WCG so long and why I defended the WCG way. My personality and profession is that of a teacher, and I always tried to have the “right answer” and lead people to know the “right answer” as I knew it. For me I needed the one-decade transition between HWA’s death in ’86 and the definite break from WCG theology in ’95. I still like having the “right answer” but the “right answer” requires words, and words are part of our physical reality. So describing spiritual reality or “knowing God” with words will always be an approximation. I guess that’s why John calls Jesus “the Word”. Knowing Jesus is knowing God and describing spiritual reality.

    You said, “…my faith in many ways began to become my own.” Yes, that is the way our relationship with God moves – or at least should move. I recall that this idea was discussed in a seminary class titled “Family Systems”. One text said that we start out by assuming the faith of our parents. Some passages from “Stages of Faith” by James Fowler were cited. I have not read the book – it’s out of print now – but it can be found in libraries. At the beginning of Letter 6 I gave this explanation of my zigzag spiritual journey:

    “When we are children we assume the faith of our parents and those around us. [For me that was Lutheran church, Sunday School, and Confirmation teaching.] As we enter teen age we must write our own personal creed while still having many questions and doubts. Some leave the faith their childhood and figure out life on their own. Some of those come back to a faith similar to their childhood faith; some don’t. Some find a faith that seems surer in an effort to cling to a faith that offers fewer unanswered questions and doubts. I was in that last category, only to find out at age 50 that my answers were mostly wrong and my doubts were still very real.”

    At age 71, my story continues, and so does yours.


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