The Master Status

The status set.

In the field of sociology, one way of defining people is by the different statuses they hold. A status is simply a social position that a person holds. I, for example, am a student, a daughter, a Christian, a sister, a youth director, a roommate, a woman, and so on. All of these things fall into my status set.

From a person's status set, one status is considered to be that person's master status. The master status is an individual's primary characteristic. It is the most important part of a person's identity. Because of its primacy, the master status affects all areas of a person's life.

It's like this.

I think the relationship between my master status and my other statuses looks like a cross section of okra. 

If you are not familiar with okra, it is an edible plant and you probably would not like it. Unless you know somebody who makes a mean gumbo. Or unless you like eating loogies. Okra is a slimy food that grows as a long green capsule containing many white seeds.

We have statuses. A lot of statuses. They are the white seeds contained in each capsule of okra. But there is one status that is not like the other statuses. The master status is the green capsule. All the other statuses fall within its boundaries. The other statuses are structured around the master status.

What's mine?

I bear the name of Jesus Christ. I call myself a Christian. A follower of Jesus. If I let anything else claim the title of master status, if I do not let my identity in Christ the most important thing about me, then I am doing something wrong. All of my statuses need to exist in light of the worthy Savior whose name I claim.

When I look at my status set, I am convicted. I know what my master status ought to be and I know that sometimes I let other things overshadow it. When I let something other than God define who I am, I am stuck in idolatry. God is jealous for us. He is not satisfied when we only allow him to occupy specific segments of our lives. God's love is so amazing, so divine. It demands our souls, our lives, our all.


May God be the green capsule of our okra-like lives.

Connecting Dots

Ursa Major

Asterism.

The Big Dipper is probably the most recognizable chunk of the night sky. Discounting the moon, of course. The moon is neat, but a stargazer does not always appreciate the light our planet's natural satellite reflects.

Interestingly, the famous array of stars known as The Big Dipper is not a constellation. It is an asterism, which means that it is a part of a constellation. Specifically, it is a part of the Ursa Major constellation. The Great Bear. Personally, I think they should have named this constellation after an animal with a longer tail.

Bigness.

Looking at the stars is something I have found joy in for many years. It is an incomparable way of experiencing God's bigness. It is approximated that over 2,000 stars are visible to the naked eye in good conditions. There are hundreds of billions of stars we cannot see. That is big.

Over the past few months, I have let stargazing become something of a hobby (not that I needed anymore of those...). Instead of looking up at night and saying, "Ooh, pretty," I have adopted a more educational habit of glancing up and down between the sky and my book about stars.

The more I look at the night sky, the more I recognize it. And whenever I see a constellation that I recognize or remember the name of a specific star, I feel closer to the Creator God who put them there. I would love to sit and listen to God tell the story of how He placed the stars in the sky. I wonder if He has a constellation out there that looks more like a bear than Ursa Major. I wonder if He refers to Ursa Major as something more reasonable, like the Great Hyena.

Cue metaphor.

Whenever I start to learn something new, especially within a broad field like astronomy, I am reminded of how little I actually know, of how much there is to learn and, all the while, of the reality that I will in my lifetime barely scratch the surface of all there is to know. 

I have been actively getting to know God for over a decade now, yet my relationship with Him is a mere asterism in a constellation that is planted in a massive sky of stars. But, in getting to know Him, I start to recognize Him more and more in the details that make up life and also in the broader story I find myself in. I am slowly connecting dots and forming constellations out of the infinite abundance of good things that God is.

Vincent van Gogh's Starry Night Over the Rhone

I frowned at God

Brrr - cold tears.
This morning involved a car too cold to start and a subsequent emotional breakdown. I had my car plugged in overnight because it wouldn't start yesterday. It still wouldn't start this morning, so I had Sam try and jump-start me. No workey. And it's not even that cold yet.

So, as I often do nowadays, I started crying. Right there in my cold cold car. (I don't recommend crying outside when it is -15ºC.) It was all frustration. I worked hard at my crappy old job this summer to save up for a car that doesn't work in the cold. Living in Calgary, where it is cold for much of the year, this is frustrating. I can't get to school. Assignments are looming and I need to spend time in the library to complete them. Doesn't look like that's going to happen this week.

In my upset state this morning, I frowned at God and said, "What the heck?"

Accounting.
Job was facing trouble far worse than my own when he said,
     "If only I knew where to find him;
          if only I could go to his dwelling!
     I would state my case before him
          and fill my mouth with arguments.
     I would find out what he would answer me,
          and consider what he would say." (Job 23:3-5)

I often go to God feeling like I have a pretty good case for myself. It's easy to make myself out to be a hero. I worked hard to buy a car, so it should work. I put a lot of energy into school, so I should be able to succeed. If I could only find God's front door, I would knock on it and let Him know all of these things. Surely he would take my arguments into account and have something to say for Himself.

Right?

Well, no. It's not right. The reality is that God is not accountable to me. The all-knowing, all-powerful creator of the universe and author of my life does not owe me an explanation for anything. Who am I to discredit His justice? To condemn Him to justify myself (Job 40:8)? Am I adorned in glory and splendor, clothed in honor and majesty (40:10)? Heck no - I'm a filthy mess of a person.

Who I am not.
All around me are reminders that He is God and I am not. The mounting piles of snow outside my door, the big Rockies on the horizon, the holy book that currently sits on the counter. I do not understand all of the things of God; they are too wonderful for me (42:3). But I know that the simple truth of His goodness is worth putting my hope in.

When things come up and I find myself thinking, "What the heck?," I need to remember that He is God and I am not. He is perfectly good and I often just don't get it. It's OK, I don't have to get it. God gets it and He's working for my good. That is a good enough answer for me.

Today, something frustrated me and I reacted wrongly. I know that things can be much worse than having a stubborn vehicle in the morning, and I know that my reactions in worse situations tend to be proportionately bad. But, if I can learn to react to the little things in a way that rightly shows who God is, then maybe I will be able to react to the big things in similar fashion.

In sum, God is good.