Not So Excited: When I Didn't Walk the Talk

Tonight I take my latest essay for my church newsletter and share it with you, my blog readers. If you are one and the same, I apologize for the preview, but I wanted to get this message out. I need to hear it - again - tonight - and perhaps every night for a while as I go through some very dark nights of the soul. 

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Not So Excited: When I Didn't Walk the Talk (for my church newsletter, May 2013)

I was growing desperate for this month’s Visionotes essay topic and when I listened to Pastor's sermon tonight, I knew what to do. I knew when he finished speaking that I wanted to write about the amazing love Jesus had, first, for us.  

“Amazing love…how can it be…that You, my King, should die for me…” (Amazing Love, lyrics by Billy James Foote)

Oh, the moment was palpably exciting. I sat in the sanctuary dreaming of an essay that perfectly painted the marvelous love of Jesus Christ, with words so poetic and touching that the pained and hardened hearts would be set free and realize the Gospel truth of Jesus’ unfathomable love for us. Yes, I got goose-bumps imagining how magnificent this would all be.

And then I came home.

And I failed. Epically.

I lost my cool, spoke sharp daggers at loved ones in a moment of mounting stress.

It was as if all the truth I had just absorbed at church leaked out of me like a sieve and all that remained was a puddled mess of tears.

So did the truth leave me or was God giving me an opportunity to live out this truth?

Tonight, beloved family pressed all my buttons, my nerves felt raw and exposed, the moment slammed me to a shattered halt and all I did was epically fail at loving.

I was so ashamed of my behavior that I hid in my bedroom, not unlike my cat after she pukes on the living room carpet. You just know when you've done wrong.

But upon reflection (and suitable apologies to loved ones) I wonder if – through my failure – the truth of Jesus’ love didn't shine all the more. Because look:

I am now writing about a very real instance of a very real failing and a very real God loving me in a way that only God can.

“What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?” - Romans 8:31

And so we come full circle to me excitedly telling you about Jesus’ marvelous love. Only… I just got off my knees from being in the dirt instead of a place of happily writing at my kitchen table, pen dancing merrily across paper with precise poetry and literary greatness.

Instead, I broke.

Brokenness intrigues and baffles me. I long to read and write about it, for us all to take off our well-positioned masks and reveal just how in need of a Savior we really are.

Brokenness excites me.

But not my brokenness.

Know the feeling?

The topic of the world’s broken pieces fascinates me, but put me in my bedroom hiding from my guilt and shame, and I’m not so eager.

But these essays are meant to be a sharing of the footsteps I follow and the prints I leave behind. And if I can’t fall down, believe I am still worthy of this Love, and get back up with repentance and gratitude, how can I tell you to do such a thing?

I can’t tie this essay up in a pretty bow. Speaking as a writer, there will be no “concluding paragraph” because there is nothing “concluding” about my human failure, frailty, and need.

So I said I wanted to write an essay that softened the pained and hard-hearted.

God has made this piece of paper my mirror.

gettyimages.com

How the Title of My Story Is Not Mine

(written Friday, February 8, 2013)

I've always liked naming things

When I was a writer-child and delving deep into 7-year-old-plot lines about magic mirrors and orphan girls banding together to esce evil, I deeply cared about my characters' names as well as the places they lived.

The title of my stories were the most important, of course. The title could tell you the entire story, itself.

Or so I thought. I relied on my titles to express what I was going through at such a tender age.

Well, now I am a few months shy of my 35th birthday and I have a different story to tell. But, much like my child-writer-self, I depend on that title, that name, to define what my story is.

When all along...it is His story...not mine. And He names it. Not me.

Three or so years ago, I remember getting a pain in the vicinity of my abdomen.

Two years ago I noticed a very specific pain in my right lower abdomen. I remember having to stand, hunched over. It came and went and I knew why they call pain "waves."

Then, in January of 2012, I began having issues that sent me to my doctor, then to urgent care, and then, in February, to the first of what would become a few emergency room visits in one year.

Throughout 2012, I baffled everyone. I'd attend an appointment or sit on the ER bed in tears over the amount of pain I was in. Nurses drew blood, doctors peered down at results; all told me I was normal.

But I knew something wasn't right.

I went to see an "expert" and he, with the help of his assistant, prescribed an unusual diet and an even more unusual regime in which I did not feel comfortable.

I was nervous about their orders, but when I tried to ask questions, they batted them away like irritating flies and the "expert" actually walked out on me, saying, "You'll do fine, fine..."

I was not doing fine and no one would listen to me. No professional doctor, anyway.

Home life was becoming increasingly stressful in 2012 in ways I cannot nor should I go into. But my stress did play a part in my worsening symptoms.

Also playing a part were the nurses telling me it was all in my head, that I was just too anxious, that I had too much stress.

I felt unacknowledged, unheard, invalidated.

During this time, my daily life was a push against the fleshly instincts of wanting to exert control on my life - or the lives around me. If I couldn't control my own life, I'd clamp around others' My temper flared. I spit red anger at kids for the smallest things. And I fell into a pit of despair around the Fall of 2012 going into early January of '13.

I was exhausted. I had had numerous procedures, one too painful to want to remember, and still no answer.

But I knew that whatever I was walking around with that God was beside me. I could feel His Presence, but I wasn't sure what He was telling me.

Until today in the car after an appointment that I thought would give me the title to my story.

A few days ago I found out that, unbeknownst to me, my mother had Endometriosis in her early 40s as well as fibroid cysts and, ultimately, had to have a hysterectomy.

I went to my doctor with this new genetic possibility...and, besides, it fit my pain so well. It had all the descriptions, it had all the correct verbs and adjectives. I found my character in the book of Endometriosis.

And when my general practitioner gave me an exam and said she thought she felt something...that could be Endo...I grasped onto that name, that diagnosis, that title, and ran as though my life depended on it.

I wanted to shout it from the roof - or at least out my car windows: I have Endometriosis! I have a name for it! I can tell you what it is and what they are going to do and when I will get better!

And there is a certain understandable element to clutching onto a diagnosis after years of unnameable pain.

Yet...I feel ashamed now looking at how I proclaimed and gun-jumped regarding the maybe-diagnosis.

Today I felt foolish as I visited the doctor who said I very well might have Endo, but that all my pain was most likely not caused by this illness.

I felt like the wind was knocked out of me.

I felt like my cover was torn off of my story.

And then, after the angry tears and words in the car, I felt the Lord's hand on my shoulder and the Lord's heart speak directly to mine:

Do you think that you can't give Me glory by getting through exactly this? Do you think that you need a specific sign above your heard that advertises your ailments? Those on-lookers at Golgotha had no clue why My Son truly cried out in pain. Jesus had "King of the Jews" as the sign above him and even that was man's folly. You don't need a sign, child. You don't need to prove to anyone that you hurt. All my children hurt in some way; that is just the way, isn't it. You are not so different. How you can be Kingdom-different...and bring Me glory... is to praise Me even when your body hurts, even when you are angry and sad and confused. Bring all of that to Me. Do not rest your idolizing on doctors or family. They can't validate you the way I can. They can't name you. 

Child, I can name you. I did name you:

Chosen. Beloved. Heir. Holy and faithful. Forgiven. Loved. 

Do you need more names? Because I have them all - in Scripture. 

Child, open that Bible to get your title. Don't expect a doctor to give it to you. Don't hope for something that many people dread. I named you before you were even born.

I was astonished. Had I actually been...hoping?

And am I actually writing all this...now? To you, the public?

Yes, I am. I do not hide behind my computer screen very well. I know I sometimes have flawed boundaries, but I also know that with that flaw comes the deep need to live with a healthy dose of transparency so that I can admit when thoughts have shaped wrong and life has gone askew.

And...yes...life has gone askew.

I thought that if I had a diagnosis of some illness, then I could battle through it by relying on God's strength within me, go through my "valley of the shadow," for sure, but then come out the other side with more bolstering faith than I'd know what to do with.

Many of my favorite authors and radio hosts have that kind of story. They've endured horrific things: abuse, illness, atrocity. And yet here they are now, with books or programs or ministries - all serving God in such honorable ways.

So did I think I had to do it that way?

I really did.

I sigh a big sigh right now. It is sad and shameful to know that I thought that way.

That I really believed I had to let the world name me in order to serve God.

The suffering I endured for much of my life has been nameless and general. Some doctors tried to link my severe depression in my teens and 20s to more specific things like bipolar or borderline personality disorder.

But, truly, my entire life was in dis-order. I didn't know whether I was coming or going until I fell onto the floor in 2010 and saw the Lord before me and that Great Whoosh came upon me and I changed, I grew, I stretched, and I made the best decision of my life.

Jesus never promised us easy. He promised His Presence during the hard (John 16:33) so why did I think that my story would be like others'?

My confession, my prayer, with head bowed is this:

Lord, I confess to you my sin of comparison. You created me to be unique and special unto You and I must believe that I am. I must believe what Your Word says of me and because of those promises I come to You seeking forgiveness for wanting the doctors to give me a title to my story, a name to my pain. I was trying to be the Author and not letting you work through me. I think and write all the time about the concept of "letting go." I write and read and think about the concept of gratitude all the time - and yet all this writing, reading, and thinking has not brought me to a true understanding of ...

"Be still and know that I am God." 
~ Psalm 46:10a

Such a simple-sounding and oft-used verse, but I studied it in some detail and You revealed it to me and I thank you. Help me to cease striving. Help me to stop trying to be my own Author and to live the life You have written for me. I know You are not done yet and so I remain Your servant, a child who loves You and wants to glorify You in the love and strength and faith that I carry with me every day. Help my honest outpourings in this blog illuminate some truth for some person. Let someone understand better what took me much pain to learn - and which I am still learning. 

I thank you for my body that can walk and talk and move and pump blood and work as well as it does. I know there are so many who do not have that. I pray for all who suffer - in mind, body, and spirit. I pray that they would seek You and know You to be the God of all Comforts and find rest and peace in that truth. 

Continue to grow me, Lord. Continue to draw me closer to You and to write my story. 

I think the best title, the best name I can think of is:

Yours. 

I belong to the Lord. 

I am Yours.

In Your Holy Name I pray,
Amen.

And so I stumble upon this verse and chuckle:

"What do people get for all the toil and anxious striving with which they labor under the sun? All their days their work is grief and pain; even at night their minds do not rest. This too is meaningless."

~ Ecclesiastes 2:22-23

For hasn't all my anxiety and worry been toil and meaningless? I bathed in grief and pain and yes, even at night, this mind did not rest.

And then I think of the God of All Comforts verse in 2 Cortinthians 1:3-5 (ESV):

" Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort,  who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too."

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February 12, 2013

Friends, since the days since I drafted this blog entry out, much more has been revealed, particularly about the rest of 2 Corinthians 1 which adds so much to my story. 

While it is a difficult journey to allow God to name me and to not be lured in by false names, I am dedicated as I walk this road. 

I thank you for reading my words, bare and naked, and hope that you give mercy and forgiveness for this one's naivety. 

Thank you for such grace. 

May you be blessed as you walk with the Lord this week and always.

American Awakened: Part Three - A Pause for Mess

I clicked a friend's link to a link to a link and came across this blog entry by Dan King, who is social media editor for thehighcalling.org, blogger at bibledude.net. co-founder and media director for the activistfaith.org movement, and social media director for help on now.

Mr. King writes about the Haitian mud left on his shoes from his time spent helping the local people with various needs.

I can't help but remember the shoes I wore while in Honduras. They became quite a mess. I waded up to my knees while dirty water soaked into them, creating that oh-so-unpleasant gushing feeling when walking. They were expensive and waterproof - yes, but only up to the laces. I did not intend on going caving. Or hiking upriver through water and rock.

But the boots did more than go on adventures. The boots walked down dusty, dirty roads and helped me kneel to take pictures for Paramedics for Children. The boots took me around Daniela's school. The boots gave me a solid foundation to stand on when my emotions quietly got the best of me and I felt like I was going to quake so much I might collapse.

I tossed those boots in the wash the first day I returned home. They made a huge clunkety-clunk that drove us mad, but I wanted that old-water, horrible, smelly smell out.

I read Mr. King's blog about his Haitian mud and now I want my Honduran dirt back.

Why did I want to wash it off? What was wrong with it?

Did it not fit in with my clean house? Was I afraid I would taint my hardwood floors? Get grime on my comforter?

I'm a very nostalgic person, always have been. I still have the box of candy a boy gave me in the 4th grade (the box, people, not the candy!). I am very nostalgic about things. I kept all my plane ticket stubs from my trip. I kept audio recordings of our guide talking. I think I might have taken a sugar packet home.

Yet I had to get rid of that dirt.

I am ashamed.

And yes, you can tell me not to be so hard on myself. But I need to be.

I am not beating my head with a hammer, but I am realizing that I could have taken a lot more away from my time in Honduras. I could have felt a lot less comfortable.

Ironically, it is now, back home, where I am feeling the most uncomfortable. I hear this is normal, that it makes sense.

Please, tell me how.

I'm back to my comfortable Americana; I'm back to writing Daniela letters, sending her pictures. I have a second sponsor child I write to as well: Selpia in Indonesia. It's been a year with her. We are just getting to know each other.

I wonder what her mess is like.

I wonder if it is as beautiful and as horrible as the things I saw in Honduras.

I wonder if, should I ever visit her in Indonesia, I will come home and slip off my worn and traveled shoes and opt for my plush couch...

or if I will scrape off some of that stuff and slip it into an envelope.

Terra firma of another world that I am called to love.

It is Good

Have you ever had a guilty conscience? I know I have. Have you sinned? I know I have.

Imagine now being Adam or Eve. The first to sin, the first to betray, the first to break God's heart.
I invite you to watch the amazing song, "Good," performed by Matthew West and Leigh Nash from the CD, "The Story" - an amazing CD of songs inspired by Biblical characters. This is the song for Adam and Eve. The lyrics are below. But do watch the video; the animation is stunning.

http://youtu.be/iQ9rG73SKd8

If I could, I’d rewrite history
I’d choose differently; if I could, I would
I’d leave out the part where I broke Your heart
In the garden’s shade, fix the mess I made
If I could, I would

If I could, close my eyes and then
Dance around again; if I could, I would
Be who You adored, why did I need more?
When beauty was not trained to hide behind my shame
If I could, I would.

Can You hear us cry?
Wishing we could turn back time
To feel Your breath when branches move
Take one more sunset walk with You
Must each tomorrow hold
Such brokenness untold?
Can’t imagine how You could
See all of me and say it’s good

If I could hold one memory
It would surely be how You walked with us
I’d go back in time, untell my first lie
And let love’s injury heal in spite of me

Can You hear us cry?
Wishing we could turn back time
To feel Your breath when branches move
Take one more sunset walk with You
Must each tomorrow hold
Such brokenness untold?
Can’t imagine how You could
See all of me and say it’s good
Say it’s good

It is good. It is good.
You still love us more than we believed You could
Could there be something more?
Will it ever be the way it was before?

Can You hear us cry?
Wishing we could turn back time
To feel Your breath when branches move
Take one more sunset walk with You
Must each tomorrow hold
Such brokenness untold?
Can’t imagine how You could
See all of me and say it’s good

Ponder that refrain: "Can't imagine how You could / See all of me and say it's good."
He does see all of us and say we are good. He forgives.
Can't you just hear the longing and regret in the voices in this song?

In the beginning, it was all beautiful. Can you imagine it? Such an unfiltered relationship with the Lord? Can you imagine the sunset walks with Him, talking with Him, communing with Him?

But then, they who were adored "needed more."

We all want more when what we have is so wonderful to begin with. I suppose that is free will, isn't it.
Well, they wanted to be like God - as powerful, as mighty.
And they broke His heart.

But

He still loved them "more than we believed You could."

I am certain that God hears their cry. I am sure God hears our cry when we cry out to him in pain, in need, in confusion. We all wish we could turn back time, don't we. To undo the mess we made. But we can't. All we can do is live with the consequences and that is what humankind has done for eons since the Fall that broke us away from God.

What is redeeming is that we are redeemable. What is comforting is that He loves us anyway!
We break His heart every day and He is still there, loving us.

Have you every hurt someone? Have you broken their heart and now there is a severed relationship because of it? I am sorry; I know that pain.

But look - God can never be severed from you!

Look - if He can forgive His first children, Adam and Eve, His first human creations, if He can love them DESPITE, even love them BECAUSE...

just imagine how much He can love YOU.

I pray this entry and this song can be of some comfort to you.

Can we go around sinning and hurting others and get away with it? Of course not.

But there IS love for you. There IS forgiveness.

You ARE good.

When You are Overwhelmed with the Need of the World

Charity.
What do you think of when you hear that word?
Giving.
What do you think of when you hear that word?

Do you feel excited and full of potential, ready to give? Or do you feel overwhelmed at all the need in this world?

Do you feel jaded by all the commercials over the decades that paste poverty-stricken children on the television screen and do you think to yourself, "oh, they're just getting the worst-looking kid to pose and they just want my money - my money won't actually reach them."

Are you thinking, "somebody else will take care of them?"

Maybe you feel guilty when you hear 2 Corinthians 9:7:

"Each man should give what he has decided in his heart to give, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver."

Are you not exactly a cheerful giver? Please. Do not feel guilty. I have thought long and hard and have had it placed on my heart: God does not want you to feel guilty. Let me explain further.

Right now, a number of my favorite Christian writers are blogging from the Compassion International trip to Ecuador. You can read the many inspirational and heart-touching blogs and stories here.

I'm reading Ann Voskamp's blog posts the most because she speaks to my poet's heart. In her November 10th post, she writes about meeting one of her sponsor children, Lidia, in Ecuador. Ann writes,


"All poverty is first poverty of a relationship." 

And who is that relationship with? She continues:

"Falling out of relationship with God was our first fall into poverty  — and into conflict and sin and hardship.  And all subsequent poverty —- All poverty stems more from an absence of right relationships than a right resources. Anything that takes the place of the primacy of the Christ-relationship leads to a place of poverty."


Tears spilled over as I read her 11-10-11 post, as she marvels at how she "fritters" away $38 a month when this child, Lidia, has waited THREE YEARS to find a sponsor. Or rather, for a sponsor to choose her. I looked at my bank account and felt ashamed at all the menial purchases when so many children are abroad, sick, starving, dying. 


And then I felt what you might feel: complete ovewhelm. I can't do it all, God! I cried. I CAN'T! How can I help them? Do I go on a missionary trip and lend my services? I wondered if I could make a quick phone call, drum up some money, and join Ann, Shaun, and their friends at Compassion and quickly go there and lend my aid. 


Then I realized I am a wife and a stepmother who is dearly needed at home. What was I to do?


Then...something else came to mind. I remembered an interview Susie Larson had done on "Live the Promise" with a family who had sold all their possessions (after learning that riches did not cause true happiness) and bought and R.V. and began their ministry, Passion to Action. You can hear their amazing interview here.  (particularly important is the talk at 32 minutes and 40 seconds and on).

To fully understand the connections I am trying to make, I urge you to look at these links I am giving you. Listen to the podcast of the husband and wife's interview on Live the Promise. 


Jay and Beth Loecken packed their 4 kids up and took an R.V. and decided to bring their family on the road to serve and love others. They say a lot about serving others and focusing right in our own community. They are not saying to disregard the needs in third world countries, but they made the point that there are needy people right next door to us. 


And that made me think. What does God call us to do? I looked at Scripture:


"Be careful not to do your 'acts of righteousness' before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven "So when you give to the needy, do not announce it with trumpets, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be honored by men. I tell you the truth, they have received their reward in full. But when you give to the needy, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing, so that your giving may be in secret. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you." Matthew 6:1-4

He calls us to give, but to give quietly, without "trumpets" and fanfare. Basically, do not give for your own glory, but for His. 

And then I read 1 John 3:17:

"If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth."

So for the love of God to be in you, you must think of those in need. To have a heart for the needy, is to have a heart for Jesus. 

But what about all of us who feel guilty/overwhelmed/jaded by all the need that is in the world? Whether we don't actually believe that much is out there (I don't believe that) or whether we think that we can't possibly make a dent in this world...

Well, you know what? Yes, you. You. YOU can help. YOU are called to help. 

BUT...God does not call you to do anything that He has not equipped you with. 

So... do we do the BIG and go be a missionary for Compassion International? 

Or do we serve our own communities? Do we bring a casserole to the recently-widowed woman down the street? Do we offer babysitting to a family whose parents are overstressed and burdened (that recently was blessed upon me)? Not that that kind of serving is "little," but it isn't as BIG-SOUNDING as the above mentioned example? 

Big or little? Far or near? This or that? 

I don't want to judge one or the other - the point is that you need to ACT. Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth (1 John 3:17 once again). 

Yes, I understand there are so many cries for help. So many men, women, children, abroad and in our own country, state, town, street. Where ought we put our focus? 

Do we need to worry so much on the Where? On the How? Ought we just focus on the DOING of something? 

Stay with me here. 

What if EVERY ABLE person donated money to either a sponsorship program or money to a program that helps the poverty-stricken? Or what if EVERY ABLE person donated time at local soup kitchens, hospitals, or cooking dinners for that sick neighbor...

does God care about the HOW? He helps makes things happen.  But we have to make the WHAT. We need to make the first step. The ACTION. God will make the HOW of our steps. He will use us to do His good if we allow Him to. 

Now listen to this:

Our God is a God of HOW. He needs us to do the WHAT. He will direct us, guide us, if we let him.  

Do you feel a little less overwhelmed? When I realized this - that I didn't have to fret over how my help was directed - just that I had to make that step to help...when I realized that God would take my help and use it for His glory and good, I felt so much lighter. 

We all try to be God once in a while, don't we?

But God is God and we are human. Flawed humans who sometimes don't know what to do with all of our privileges, yet at the same time some of us don't know how to ask for help for what we need. 

Let God be God and let us do what we need to do: take action. 

I feel so passionate about this, folks. I was explaining this whole concept to my husband in the car and I was almost crying. I was so grateful to God for laying these thoughts and realizations on my heart because I feel it's so important to share. 

You don't need to feel guilty or overwhelmed or jaded or think you can't possibly make a difference. The TV may make you think you have an obligation to this or that in a foreign country. And maybe you do. Is that something that calls to you? For some, it is. And God bless their souls and acts!

But maybe you feel called to help out locally - for the homeless or needy families in town. 

The point is, my lovely friends who have stuck with me and are still reading this long blog post, is that you must first do something in order for the glory to go to God. 

If I may digress a little, let me say that I am the first to admit that I am a bit selfish at times. I want to do my thing the way I want to do it. But I am tired of the selfishness. And I do feel called to go abroad and place myself in a country that is in desperate need. I want to force myself to serve others. Am I going to book the tickets next week? No, I know that trip will have to wait until God provides. 

BUT I know I can work on that selfish nature by looking around in my own neighborhood. There is a woman at church who is in the hospital for a brain aneurism. She is such a sweet soul and I want to check up on her. And God has called me to serve my stepchildren. They are broken in their own ways. They have food, clothing, shelter, but they are very needy in emotion. They crave love and I need to make myself available to them. That sounds easy, but trust me - for me, it isn't. 

So what I am trying so hard to say is...

just act. Don't worry about the HOW and just do the WHAT. 

God is a mighty God, God is an awesome God. He is a mover and a shaker. 

Trust in Him. Act. Be His vessel. Glorify Him with your good deeds and kindnesses. Look outside of your own personal box and make yourself aware of the needs around you. 

In giving, we receive. 

My dears,

Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience.  

 Colossians 3:12


May God bless you with ideas and passion and may He work your work, may he make your WHAT glorify Him and what Christianity is all about and may He work a miraculous HOW through your efforts.


Now, enjoy this song that has the lyrics that talk about what I've been talking about:
Steven Curtis Chapman's "Do Everything."