When the Flesh Recoils and You Reach to the Eternal

I am fortunate that, in my adult life, I did not get hurt by many people.

I'm not talking about car-sliding-off-into-ditch-hurt. I'm talking of old relationships-gone-bad hurt. 

Things said without voice, arrows slung at the heart and piercing a past I thought I could hold onto forever. 

I don't often lose loved ones without them passing on by death.

But tonight showed me that I am going to have say goodbye to a significant relationship, one that was with me since toddler-hood and was a very deep tie to my beloved mother. 

Due to pain on both sides, our relationship has been strained and though I have tried to reach out in various ways, the reaching-back has become less and less to the point of his arm actually recoiling. 

I never thought the recoil could hurt so much. It's so...intentional. 

There's nothing intentional about the losses I've had that has hurt me to the quick:

my Gramma when I was 15, her dying of a random heart attack on an airplane while taking a nap. 

my dear mother who died of lung cancer 

Those two people have been the biggest losses of my life. They loved me here on earth and they departed this earth loving me. 

This person loved me then and now the love has stopped. Been recoiled. 

Or...even if the love has not been erased, the deciding to not engage at all with me hurts the most. 

And I am hurt. I am angry. .I feel like a branch that somehow kept me close to my mother has now been cut off. I cried and I flailed. 

And then I watched some home movies with my husband because I needed to hear (and remember) my mother's husky, Chicagoan voice. I needed to see her sun-scorched hair and crooked tooth. That beautiful smile, nonetheless. 

 I needed to remember that I am still her daughter, even if the relationship with the other person has withered away. 

Certain kinds of love don't leave. 

It reminds me of God's love for us. And I wouldn't have thought about that at all prior to two years ago when I became a Christian. I can't fathom going through this kind of grief without knowing that I am unconditionally loved by a God who can love me more than anyone else on this earth 

My therapist said this to me last Monday: God loves you more than your mother did. 

That puts it into real terms for me because I knew how much Mom loved me. I felt that love so acutely that I can still taste and smell it, it was that palpable. 

But God loves me more. 

So instead of being angry, vengeful, hurt over the recoiling of love that hurt me down to the quick, I am choosing to focus on God who is the God of All Comforts. 

He comforts those who grieve. He comforts those who are depressed. He comforts widows and orphans. 

"He has sent me to comfort the brokenhearted

and to proclaim that captives will be released

and prisoners will be freed.

He has sent me to tell those who mourn

that the time of the Lord's favor has come,

and with it, the day of God's anger against their enemies.

To all who mourn in Israel,

he will give a crown of beauty for ashes,

a joyous blessing instead of mourning,

festive praise instead of despair.

In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks

that the Lord has planted for his own glory."

~Isaiah 60:1-7 (NLT)

And my hope resides in Him, now and forevermore.

photo from http://www.flickr.com/people/a_gods_child/

Join Me: On My Knees and Ears Open

Be aware of what you ask for.

Did you read my last blog entry? I laid myself bare on the operating table, ready and willing for God to mold and change me. A wise reader commented how similar it sounded to the threshing floor process: dividing the carnal nature away from spirit so that God can impart more of His Spirit into you. Anonymous gave that definition in the comment from the last entry and it made a lot of sense.

I'm going to write about being on that floor. And I'm going to ask you to join me.

What? You're going to ask me go through that immense pain and suffering, you ask?

No, I'm going to ask you to open your ears to God's voice.

I was at the edge today. I've been at my edge at various times this week. Chaos and stress continue to pile on as though it has no care for my comfort. Is she overburdened? Oh, no matter. She's hunched over in pain both physically and emotionally? Oh, that's okay. She can handle a bit more. 

No, worldly chaos and stress don't much care for whether you are ready or even willing to take it on.

Looking back now, I can tell chaos and stress to keep their threats because my God promises:

No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.”

~ 1 Corinthians 10:13

However, from being at my edge today...and nearly succumbing to the lies of the enemy...and then seeking company and mentoring from a dear godly girlfriend...I know now that I need to do something before I can "stand up under it."

I need to get on my knees and I need to listen. 

I've spent too much time being my own little "god" and saying, "That's okay, God, I've got it."

I didn't consciously know that; it was all so subtle. I even told people.

"I don't have a savior complex, but I am trying to" x...y...z...

I told people I was not trying to save my loved ones...create peace in my home all by myself, using my own strength and resources...but I was. 

When we try to be God to other people, we miss God trying to be Himself to us.

And I'm not missing God anymore.

It might have taken my face to slam down on the floor - yet again - but I see now.

I bow to Him and I am on my knees and I am listening.

My friend gave me the idea today. She talked about her own stresses and troubles and I realized that while our situations were very different, what we had to do was the same. She worded it so wonderfully: she had to get on her knees and she was devoting this week to strictly listening for God's direction and provision.

And because I like projects...and goals...and God-homework...and I like being part of a group...

I told my friend that we ought to be accountable to each other and email each other how things are going throughout the week.

Then I thought, why not open this up to you?

Is there something you ought to be getting on your knees for? Have you not had your ears tuned to God lately? I know I haven't. I thought I did, but my eyes are open now. Yes, I was blind, but now I see. And I'll probably have to be blind again and be reminded again, but this is all a process, isn't it? And God realizes that. He is a God of so many chances. And if you are genuinely wanting to learn, God is so pleased.

So join me in this prayer, won't you?

Lord, I give myself to you. I bow low and open my ears to hear any and everything You might say to me. I recognize that You could speak through other people - my family or co-workers or even strangers. You might even speak through my worst enemy. No matter what form Your voice takes, I promise to listen closely. I can't do this on my own, Lord. I can't live this life without leaning completely on You and I apologize for trying to do it through my own efforts. I invite You into my life, Lord. I am stepping out of the way so You can move in my life. Thank You for loving me, Lord, even when I am stubborn and not listening. I am on my knees, Lord, and I am listening now. In Jesus' holy name, Amen. 

I invite you to join me in whatever way you wish. If you like having accountability and goals and being part of a group, post how you are doing in the comment box. If you'd like to keep it more private, I invite you to email me. I hope this can spark conversation and community.

Bless you.
Let this poem minister to you, given to me by my dear godly girlfriend whom I met with today:

Last night I took a journey
To a land across the seas.
I didn't go by ship or plane~
I traveled on my knees.

I saw so many people there
In bondage to their sin,
And Jesus told me I should go,
That there were souls to win.

But I said "Jesus, I can't go
To lands across the seas."
He answered quickly, "Yes, you can
By traveling on your knees."

He said "You pray, I'll meet the need.
You call, and I will hear.
It's up to you to be concerned
For lost souls far and near."

And so I did; knelt in prayer,
Gave up some hours of ease,
And with the Savior by my side,
I traveled on my knees.

As I prayed on, I saw souls saved
And twisted persons healed,
I saw God's workers strength renewed
While laboring in the field.

I said, "Yes Lord, I'll take the job.
Your heart I want to please.
I'll heed Your call and swiftly go
By traveling on my knees."

By Sandra Goodwin

Let this song, "Word of God Speak" by MercyMe be our theme song for this next week.

The Story Table: When All You Can Do is Lay There

[note: this took many days to write, so bare with me as it is now three or four days after this event]

I'm sprawled out on the operating table right now.

I have been split completely open by mess.

Things I have neglected kept building and building; my self-care had gone shamefully mismanaged and neglected. Things were not going well.

I am not saying things are perfect now, as I lie on the table. I mean, I see that God's hands are ready to mold me. Take me apart, squish me together again, reshape me, do all kinds of things.

I see that God is doing work in me.

And it's scary.

There have been nights - recent nights - where I have sobbed on the laundry room floor and cried out at God, not necessarily to Him - and said, "I don't want this call! I don't want to do what you want me to do."

I've gone to the brink of suffering and almost lost my footing and let myself be swallowed.

And today I was completely split open.

Thanks to a few trusted counselors and a friend, I'm gaining some perspective bit by bit. I'm realizing how I need to care for myself. I need to put my oxygen mask on before I can care for anybody.

And let me tell you - I've let my oxygen mask hang there like a tree ornament for years now.

Oh nevermind you, I'd say to myself. It's selfish to think of yourself.

(As God whispers His command: "love others as yourself")

Nevermind you, I've repeated for twenty-plus years. You aren't worth it.

But no more. I am not letting the enemy's lies dictate my worth. I will not rely on anyone but the Lord to tell me who I am.

So I have taken an R&R evening. I have had to force my mind not to dwell on whether she did all her homework or if that electric bill sitting on the counter is going to tip us into the red. I have had to walk away from a sink full of dishes.

This is not piously said.

I say this in shame because I had to force myself to say:

I am breaking. I need help. I need saving. If I don't change something now, I will be lost forever.

Lord, save me. Stop this. I am Yours.

So although the image of me on an operating table sounds completely helpless and vulnerable, I have complete confidence in the Almighty to make me into who He wants me to be.

Why am I sharing this with the blogosphere? And who, really, reads my blog, anyway?

Reading my dear internet-sister-in-Christ, Michele-Lyn's blog entry, "What is alifesurrendered.com?" I read many of my own mission statements.

I can't keep quiet. What happens inside this heart is important. Not because I am more important than anyone else, but because I know God is doing important things in me.

I am becoming stronger not by my own efforts, but because I lean on Christ to strengthen me (Philippians 4:13).

My life will be a testimony. It already is.

God will use my story to help others. He uses all of our stories if we let Him.

Our story is His story.

That is what I desire - for my story to reveal His story.

Great Physician, here I am on Your table. I want to be molded, changed. I know I am made new by my faith  (2 Corinthians 5:17) and I also know that I will continue to struggle (John 16:33) so I ask you that you humble me enough to listen to You always. I ask that you humble me so that I may carry out the immense calling that you have for me - to serve my family and model Your love. As much as my heart beats for Daniela in her village, for Compassion International, Food for the Hungry, WorldVision, Operation Baby Rescue, and so many wonderful organizations that help the needy...my mission field is my home. The needy children are my own stepchildren who God has placed in my life. And God placed me in their lives. It goes both ways.

And Lord, I'm sorry that I was getting so overwhelmed and upset and I wiggled and strained against Your guidance. Sometimes it is so hard, Lord. Sometimes, I admit, I don't want this call.

I admit it. I am human.

I heard on Susie Larson's "Live the Promise" show (yesterday? I forget) concerning God's calling, that, if your heart resists a bit when you hear God calling you to do something, then that usually means you know that is what you ought to do.

Why? Because it's probably hard. And we have a hard time with the hard stuff. 

Lord, I wrote a few days ago - bring it on.

And oh, you did.

You did so much that I found myself split open. I know you didn't cause this immense suffering these past weeks or months, but I know now that it needed to happen. I needed to be split open to see the light - Your light.

I needed to remember where I come from, Who I come from, where I must serve, and who I must serve.

I needed to remember who I am.

I am not anything or anyone defined by my childhood friends or current friends; I am not defined by roles placed on me by family. I am Yours, first.

I seek You, Lord. I seek to love others as I...

I am learning to love myself.

That is hard to type. I still hear echoes of ugly in my head.

But You ask me to love others as I love myself.

So...in order to love others perhaps I must dare to love myself.

Perhaps I must dare to let myself be split open and lay on that operating table and release my life into Your will.

And it says - your will is that I love myself.

And others.

And You.

Lord, help me love.

Help the ugly voices turn truthful.

Help the lies dissipate into steam on the mirror which quickly fades.

This I pray.

This I put out there in the blogosphere for Your glory and in hopes that someone might come along and read my story, Your story, and decide...

to love him/herself.

And to love others.

And to love You, Lord.

I chuckle as I look down at the necklace I wear every day. The abbreviated Bible verse has not felt personal until right now.

"Seek...to reflect Him"  2 Corinthians 

So Lord, I seek You and I lay upon the story table where You mold and move me. 

That's where the big stuff happens. That's where redemption is found. 

me and You

Sometimes

I have found

I am put in the Wilderness

just so I recognize

my need 

for God. 

Last night

thunder sounded

lightning struck

in the caverns

of my soul

leaving me to feel

empty

abandoned

completely forsaken

by everyone

and that is when

the enemy goads me

into thinking

You are alone

No one wants you around

You are a burden to everyone you love.

But God beckoned me out on the front porch last night

and I dialed multiple phone numbers

for help

to cry out to someone

whose voice I could hear,

whose prayer I could let settle over me

like the clouds I envision Him 

sitting upon. 

I finally got a hold of my pastor

(worrying about myself as burden

flared up the whole time)

and he prayed over me

and this house

for patience

for love

for many things

and, indeed,

I let the prayers settle over me

like the clouds I imagine God

sitting upon.

So the danger was over;

I felt the enemy flee

and while I sat there on the front porch

I took in the view.

The sky was dark from a before-rainstorm

and though night approached

the clouds began to stretch apart

from each other

to let some light in. 

And I saw

how very close

God was.

Not upon the clouds

way up high

far away

but very near

right beside me

in every moment. 

I felt very grateful for this. 

My mind, however, flipped back

like an old Rolodex

to things I needed to-do,

to-say,

to-think. 

My old habit of obsessive list-

making had resurfaced this month

and so I began thinking about

blogs I wanted to write

budgets I had to make

forms I had to fill out

questions I had to ask

obligations I had to fulfill

and how would I do those?

I thought about

how this or that would make a great essay

or photograph

but then I heard

No. 

No. 

This is about you and Me. 

No blog, no essay, no picture,

no budget, no human to talk to,

ask questions of,

no obligations, My child,

except you and Me,

sitting here

together.

And so I strove to put

those shirt-tug-thoughts

out of my mind

those annoying fruit-fly-thoughts

that return again and again

no matter how much you think

you've cleaned your soul out. 

I said,

Okay, God, 

days ago I prayed for a deeper relationship with you

I prayed for more intimacy and more intensity

More passion and more devotion. 

So here I am, God. 

No blog, no pictures, no essays, no lists.

Just me and You...

with trees swaying

wind stirring

light barely getting through.

I feel You, God. 

I did not think a prayer like I prayed

would have warranted such a 

wildernesstime

but I sat there

and every time one of those

fruit-fly-thoughts flew into view

I batted it away

and focused on God. 

I knew I was in God's presence

because I felt peace

love

and mercy. 

I sat there, transfixed, in awe,

desperately hoping, too,

that I could carry the peace with me

into the house

where all the commotion

began.

Songs went through my head:

"I Will Lift My Eyes" 

"Jesus, Hold Me Now"

"Let Me Rediscover You"

And I returned inside where everyone was already asleep. I entered the bedroom, knelt by the open patio door with the curtain dancing from the breeze - from the air that I felt God blow - that same breath I felt come into my own spirit. 

The Spirit of God has made me; the breath of the Almighty gives me life.

~ Job 33:4

By God's grace, I fell asleep with arms wrapped round me. 

I awoke this morning to a quiet house, the sky still hung low with dark clouds. I sat on that same porch and looked at that same wind decoration that Stepson5 had made, now hanging on the porch, swinging in the breeze, reminding me of God's breathing last night, the breath of life refueling me for another day in the wilderness -

yet not alone. 

I sat there and enjoyed the morning scent of wet grass, just-after-rain, fresh breeze. 

 

And while thoughts of today started buzzing around in my head

and, yes, as you can see I took picures

and, yes, as you can see I am writing this blog,

and, yes, as you might expect, I will probably make a list today...

I know God breathed life into me last night

and this morning

and will do so every day

and has done every day

I head out

feeling my Companion

so grateful

to have had 

my personal time

with Him

so grateful

that my Savior

certainly saved me

last night.

When Good is Maybe

I came home and wrote a hasty facebook update that said:

My hands are shaking from the amount of money the car guy told me we'll have to pay for my jeep to be fixed. I listened to faith radio all day today and they were pleading for child sponsorship. I ached to reach out to a 3rd child once more...decided to focus on the 2 I do sponsor and pour myself into that. But then the car. How do I reconcile all this lack and need with prosperity and having? And when my prosperity and having breaks down....and my hands shake due to fear of the not-enough....how do I reconcile all that?

 

I then heard the television on and turned my head to see the girls out in the backyard. Electricity on and nobody there to use it. Hot flashed to my face. Hands shook harder. I walked outside and asked them if they were out for good. The younger said yes. I told them what the problem was. And I faced my own problem.

You see, I wanted to cry out - not to them, but at them - I wanted to cry at them in fear and tell them how we had just lost a huge amount of money (in my mind) to my car being fixed and that we really can't afford to be throwing money out the window by leaving televisions and radios on when we are not using them. 

 And yet I also wanted to let them know that I believed and trusted God to provide. 

 And there was my problem: did I? Was I?

What came out was a paradox I am ashamed of which I said in haste and still-boiling irrational anger: 

"We just lost a lot of money in fixing my car and..... God will provide, we know...but what we do have we can't be throwing out the window by leaving the XBOX on while you are not even down there."

Older girl sighed sulky and younger looked down and mumbled, sorry. 

And as they walked back inside I had to look down in shame and mumble sorry because I had not said what I wanted to say, not modeled what I wanted to model. 

And Husband came in and I cried sad and shamed and leaned into his strength because I was too afraid to lean into His strength, too ashamed to even look up at my Father who I feared was so disappointed in me. 

 I let the world tell me my worth yet again. 

Husband listened and rubbed my temples, saying that maybe it is good for me to be wrestling with my trust in God. 

Because, he said, we have cars to worry about

and we have electricity that we can worry about wasting

and we have the ability to bring our car into a place right away should it break down

and we have a bank account of X amount of dollars to worry about it decreasing by Y amount. 

And I cried long and releasing as he continued to rub my temples lovingly. 

Speaking not in sharp, harsh tones, but in soft, gentle reminders to the girl lost in a current of doubt. 

I told him about the children I had heard about each time I got in my car and turned on the radio. How they lived in sub-sustaining conditions. They had no car, no electricity, no pet to worry about buying litter for. 

 How do I reconcile that? I asked him, tears rolling down cheeks easy. 

"Maybe it's good," Husband said...

And so I will sit here as Husband makes dinner and older girl asks to snack on ramen noodles and Husband answers, "but I'm making dinner right now" and he assures her that it won't be long and girl complains that she's hungry and I think about her lean frame and healthy weight and I think about too-thin, too-hungry children all around the world. 

How do we keep from playing the comparison game where we then feel guilty and burdened and then how do we accept the command to love the poor that Jesus has given us? 

  "Can I have a pickle? A teeny one?"

"Dinner will be ready as soon as I can make it."

"But Dad, I'm a growing teenager."

"And..."

"But..."

"And..."

"But..."

So I do not know how to end this post because there really is no end to the world's need, is there.

And I can imagine God thinking, "there is no end to my children's complaining, is there?"

And yet He loves us. And he continues to provide. 

We'll give thanks to You
With gratitude
For lessons learned in how to trust in You
That we are blessed beyond what we could ever dream
In abundance or in need
And if You never grant us peace
But Jesus, would You please . . .

~ "Gratitude" by Nichole Nordeman

 

 

Enough is Not Enough: A Prayer and Praise Realization

Life has been hard lately. Just when I thought we had enough, God gave us more. Who am I to judge what "enough" is?

"No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it."

~1 Corinthians 10:13 NIV

I think if I had it my way "enough" would be a very low standard as I am wont to be lazy.


Not so with our God.

But many times over the course of these past weeks, have I, for the first time, looked at the cross above our bed and uttered these words: "When are You going to stop this?"

I actually said that. I might have also said something like, "when will this end?"

Perhaps even a choked-out, "Why do You keep doing this to us?"

I see now that I was getting more desperate and more disillusioned by the moment.

The enemy loves to camp on disillusionment.

image from http://archive.brothersmcleod.co.uk/posts/show/23

I slept two hours last night into this morning. A lot of bad stuff went down. I prayed and cried for hours, knowing that, at 4:00 in the morning, I could not go back to sleep because I had to get up in two hours for work and I knew if I did go to sleep after my exhaustive crying and praying, it would be harder to wake myself back up.

So I took a shower and prayed. I turned on the radio softly and prayed. I pet my cat and prayed. Then I decided to just leave and get to work hideously early and pray.

I looked carefully at my Christian library and chose a few key books I thought might aid me in making it through the day should I have time to sit and read for a few moments.

One of those books was "Mercy in the Wilderness" by Susie Larson

image from susielarson.com

I can't begin to describe how intensely this book has ministered to me. Susie's story is take-your-breath-away-inspirational in that real-world kind of way, the kind of way that makes you want to reach out and hug her (I think I may email her anyway!) and thank her profusely.

When I read that, during years of constant trauma and one difficulty after another, she felt God tell her that this would get a lot harder before it got easier -- I knew I was hearing that, too, in my own battles.

God told me yesterday that my fire is coming.

This third I will bring into the fire; I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name and I will answer them; I will say, 'They are my people,' and they will say, 'The LORD is our God.'"

~ Zechariah 13:9

And as Beth Moore says, "There is no fire that can't refine you" (paraphrased from "Breaking Free").

I kept telling myself not to be afraid. We all go through valleys and as long as we know our Companion is there, we don't have to feel alone and abandoned.

In the wee hours of the morning, amidst desperate prayers, I looked up at the familiar "Footprints" poem on my wall.

"Carry me, Lord," I whispered. "I can't walk one step today without You."

As I sighed out that prayer, I rose and took my shower and left for work.

The day was a good one. I was with a favorite client at work and we shared smiles and laughter.

But coming home, that same groaning, ache in my stomach resurfaced. That fear that had come to be normal when thinking about returning to our downhome chaos and tension. Something destructive happening nearly every day.

I listened to my favorite worship music (lately it's been Nichole Nordeman, Nicole Serrano, and Christy Nockels)

and prayed more.

I wasn't praying for just myself, mind you. I prayed for my husband, my children, our family as a whole. I prayed for us to cling to God and for the enemy to not find a foothold to step on.

This morning God orchestrated Life 102.5  playlist as He often does for His listeners and as I emerged from the shower, "Praise You in this Storm" was on and while that song is often on, I knew it was a call for me to do just that.

I knew that God wanted me to know that things were going to get harder...

but He had not given me a spirit of fear

for God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.

~ 2 Timothy 1:7 (ESV)

No, He did not give me a spirit of fear...and I tried to let that fear wash away with every song I listened to on the way home.

My 40-ish minute drive home is a blessing on many days. I drive through rural countryside and the sun (when it is out) is a gift upon the land which my eyes feast on, sometimes even with tears.

Then Nichole Nordeman's song, "No More Chains" came on.An excerpt:

"How did I get locked up inside?
What's this that renders me paralyzed?
I lost myself in small pieces
It happened over time

I traded love for a heavy chain
Another link every other day
I pulled it up and down a mountain
It made me want to say?

No more chains
No more chains
Big and small, watch them fall away
No more chains
Big and small, watch them fall away"

And I said
Oh, Lord, take this bondage away. I long to be free from fear, anxieties, tension.

I pulled into the garage. I had no idea what I'd walk into. Would the younger two be screaming? Would Husband be so tense he could not even function? Would the teenager choose yet another deviant action?

I walked inside and Husband was lying on the couch, obviously exhausted. He said he had gotten 3 hours of sleep. I nodded. Two was my story.

We talked a bit. I shared some ideas about how we could help this family.

But we've tried so many things. How could we know this was not just the "next thing?"

I don't know, I answered. But how is doing what we are doing now going?

So I hope we can make more steps toward love and freedom in coming days, weeks, months, years.

The evening actually went very well. The teen had 2 friends over, the little ones were well-behaved and sweet. As the evening wore on, I sat on the couch and continued to read "Mercy in the Wilderness."

I came across this passage:

"When God opens the skies and provides a brief moment of relief from our circumstances, is this a cruel joke to tease and reminds us how tough things really are? No! I submit that it's a precious gift from a patient Father who wishes we were not so earth-bound." (p117)

I sat there dumbfounded. The younger two played outside, Husband was downstairs setting something up on the computer and the eldest was in her room playing a computer game.

Peace reigned in our home that night.

The evening was a miracle and I had let it go by unacknowledged.

I felt slapped upside the head. I immediately put my book down and raised my head, folded my hands. And I began the most humbling dialogue with God.

Forgive me, I said. How dare I pray every minute of the day on behalf of this family when we are in turmoil...and yet when those prayers get answered....when peace finally floods its way into our home, even for a few hours....I say nothing.

Do I really only go to God when it's hard? What about this "Praise You in This Storm" stuff?

"And I'll praise You in this storm and I will lift my hands
For You are who You are no matter where I am..."

Was I praising Him no matter where I was? Absolutely not!

Forgive me, Lord, I begged.  

How dare I! I let shameful tears fall. And I felt my Father lift my head and say

It is never too late to praise Me. 

 

So I did. I did with all my heart and I did with glorious tears. 

Husband came upstairs to find me in the middle of my befuddled realization and I hurry-told him all that I had realized. What a gift God had given us! And I was just going through the evening as though 

as luck would have it

we had a good night. 

And later that night God had yet another miracle to unveil. 

Earlier, during my car-prayertime, I had decided on the most important (to me) prayer of all. I prayed:

Lord, let Husband see You through me. 

And that night, Husband told me the following:

Seeing your spirituality tonight inspired me and because of that I feel closer to God than I have in a while.

My eyes just about bugged out.

How can we ever judge that "this is enough?" 

How can enough to us be enough to God?

Only God knows what is "enough" and He already promised not to pour upon us more than we can handle.  

It is a bit dangerous and radical when you pray to God what you really desire. 

Because, as I've written before, when you pray for patience...He will undoubtedly place people or situations in your life that will test your patience and thus mold you into a more patient person.

So when I pray for peace in this family I know what I may be getting myself into.

But our God is a Sovereign God and I trust in His wisdom and foreknowledge. 

That night was a big one - of humble realization, humility, celebration, praise. 

I know that not every day will be sunshiny and rosy. 

There will be storms. 

But I swear I will praise You, God, even in those storms because I know that You know there is a clear, blue sky just waiting for Your word. 

  

The Bedroom Addict

Even though "my bedroom" in the literal sense has now become "our bedroom," since I am now marriied, "the bedroom" has, for me, a history of being a dangerous and volatile place.

In my pre-teen and teenage years, I locked myself in my bedroom and cranked up the depressing music and sobbed in bed over some intense experience or another. In my bedroom I would cut my arms and other areas to release the pain. I knew no other language. In my bedroom I would hide from my mother, loving and supportive as she was; I don't think even the best mother in the world could have been "the good guy" in my life back then.

In college, my bedroom became more of a reclusive cave where self-destruction occurred. Out on my own, I didn't even have well-meaning-Mother knocking on my door asking if I was okay. I had a single dorm room and experienced the kind of depression that leaves you melting into the bed.

After college, after moving to a different state, moving in with my best friend, then moving in with my boyfriend-at-the-time, my bedroom still symbolized my hiding place, my place of unhealthy release and self-destruction.

Not until a few years ago after getting married and having my stepchildren live part-time with us did I realize the consequences of the bedroom and not until tonight did I realize I had a choice.

A few years back, Husband noted to me a couple of times that when I had difficult feelings I would hide in the bedroom for a while and that wasn't fair to him - or the kids. I thought this odd; no one had ever told me not to do this. Well, not since I was a teenager, but then I was self-injuring and it seemed obvious to me that I had an unhealthy habit. I knew, Mom knew. My therapists knew. My close friends knew. But I had stopped injuring years before and now my husband, who I loved more than anyone, told me that he wished I wouldn't hide so often.

I admit I felt angry. Who was he to take away my bedroom? Clearly, I couldn't break down in front of the kids, is that what he was asking me to do?

But as of last year, I worked diligently at not racing to the bedroom to sob and fall apart in the dark. And I even found myself comforting my husband, on occasion, who would do the same thing.

Tonight, I found myself in that old familiar place: the bedroom. And I found myself feeling those old familiar feelings. I looked around me and though the actual room was different, the feeling of hiding, the feeling of wanting to escape was the same. I felt ashamed. I was going through a rough time - today, it was brought on by the resurgence of a very bad medical condition that I thought I had under control. I was in a great amount of pain and on top of that, I felt angry. I wasn't sure who I was angry at so I just became angry at everything.

I felt angry that my body was in so much pain and no one could tell me how to feel better. I felt angry that I had kids and a husband out in the kitchen eating dinner even though Husband offered to take the helm of the ship and let me go in the bedroom and "rest" (I'm not sure Husband understands the metaphor of "the bedroom..." well, if he didn't, he does now after reading this).

But I did not rest. I laid there and cried quietly yet vehemently. I wanted my mom. I called my aunt, the closest thing to her, and talked with her for a while. My body pain calmed down and the conversation helped a little so I hung up the phone. I still felt bad, though.

And that was when this whole bedroom thing came into my head, how this has been a cycle since childhood.

And what have I just started listening to in the car? An audio Bible study by Beth Moore on "Breaking Free" from bondage of any kind - depression, addiction, anything.

Was my bedroom keeping me in slavery?

Suddenly, I felt a profound sense of sadness. Not angry-sadness geared at myself, but sadness over what God sees me doing.

I have been hiding from God.

Well, if you want to get technical, I've been hiding from "feeling better."

And the way to "feeling better" IS God, in my opinion.

Yet here I was, once again choosing the bedroom to hide in, to soak in my own self-pity and anger. How ungrateful I was.

I continued to lay there, but instead of ruminating inside of my head, I spoke aloud to God. I asked for his forgiveness for my ingratitude, my anger, my turning to old addictions such as secluding myself (yes, isolation can become an addiction).

I realized that even if we had 50/50 custody and even if each of the kids was 100% emotionally stable and even if their mom was on her feet and a positive influence in their lives and even if Husband and I rarely yelled or got angry and even if this...and that...

Even if...even if...

I'd still be complaining about something.

I go to church and approach the altar for the Lord's Supper with outstretched palms and head bowed in humility. Yet I live at home with a mixture of anxiety and anger and try to control everything and everybody and still resort to hiding in the bedroom.

Before I continue to put myself down, let me share the good news. The good news is that there is The Good News. And that is: God is in the dark places, too. He is in the bedroom, in every place of hiding. He is especially in the dark places. He was in my teenage bedroom watching sadly as I treated myself so wretchedly; He was in my college dorm room where I sobbed into the bed, and He was in my bedroom tonight, reminding me of His Word:

"For I can do everything through Christ, who gives me strength" (Philippians 4:!3)

And I thought of this song, In Me, by Casting Crowns. 

Cause when I'm weak, You make me strong
When I'm blind, You shine Your light on me
Cause I'll never get by living on my own ability



Isn't that how I've lived my life? Seeped in the New Age world, convinced that I could control everything, that I could make "good energy" surround me, that all power and ability were right in my hands.

How different I feel now. Yet, obviously, this newbie still needs reminding:

I will never get by living on my own ability.

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding" (Proverbs 3:5)

I thought about all the years I got by on my own, with no help from God (or so I thought). I thought of all the times He was there without me knowing it. I thought about all the times I fell and He brought me back up.

I chose the bedroom all those years.

As I lay in bed, seeped in the dark of the oncoming evening, I said, aloud:

"Lord, I choose You."

Lay It Down

Crying tonight. Tears for the broken ones in my home, tears for the brokenness within me. Tears for the inability to help any of it, to fix any of it, to control any of it.

Grieve for the one in my home who blames God, the girl who thinks she is too broken and that God is too cruel, thinks the sight of blood lets the inflating balloon sigh.

I know that thought. It is buried inside my box of youthful sins that I want to keep under the firm earth.

I am weary tonight. I wish I had a girlfriend to talk to right now, but I don't.

But I do have my God. And so we will be talking in a short while as I lie down to go to sleep.

But before that, I want to share this song with you. Click on the link:

"Lay It Down"

While I can't figure out how to embed actual videos in this new blog format, please do visit that song. Visit those images.

Maybe the both of us can lay down these burdens for a while.

Dog Spelled Backward is God

You know when you have to hurt someone even though you know you are doing the right thing? There will be tears and anguish in this house tonight. But as parents, Husband and I must keep things calm and reassuring.

How do you tell your kids that the dog they have come to love is leaving the next day?

I haven't talked about Sam a lot on this blog. He and God haven't really overlapped. But I find myself grieved this afternoon because I know that, tonight, we are telling the kids the news.

Husband and I have searched long and hard for a better home environment for him. Sam is a fearful dog who needs a much different home than we are able to give him.

For the past year, our home has been full of kids throwing tantrums which include throwing things, yelling, screaming, fighting, pretty scary stuff.

Sam is already an "issue" dog. Sadly, he became so much moreso after almost a year with us. He is simply not thriving with us and Husband and I see that and we finally found a wonderful couple to give him a new home. He leaves us tomorrow.

I see what is coming. I see tears, I see grief. I see anger at us and confusion.

I see a 5 year old not really getting it until later, I see an 8 year old getting it more at bedtime, and I see an already angst-ridden 13 year old completely breaking down and feeling like her whole world is being taken away from her.

How do you protect your kids from this kind of pain?

Maybe you can't at all. Maybe that's the point.

My mother tried to shelter me from any pain I didn't have to feel. In doing that, I grew up emotionally stunted and unable to take care of my emotional needs.

I can't keep pain from these children.

See? I can overlap this into God:

God does not promise us that he can remove all pain from our lives. He does not say that we will never hurt if we follow him, if we love him.

Being a Christian does not exempt us from struggle.

Christianity is not for those who claim they need no help. Who have it all together. Who are not broken and needy.

Christianity is for the broken, for the down-trodden, for the weak. For in our weakest moments, those times when we feel the most separated from God, we are actually the closest to God.

When we bow in pain
God lifts our chin
to look at him
and in God's strength,
God's promise,
we rise -
a new creation.

So in shielding these kids from the pain of what life can bring, isn't that stealing their own opportunity to bow in pain, bow to God?

I know the pain of tonight is going to happen. But Husband and I have to share the news in the right manner as well as lean on the strength of God to help us through.

Without God's hand to help us, we merely hop over obstacles; we never get through them. We hop over, we avoid, we distract.

But we never face it in the face. We never face the enemy in the face and say,
Get out of here. You do not tell me who I am; I know who I am. 


I am on God's team. 

The enemy tells us we can just hop over the tough times. We need not deal with it.

God holds our hands and urges us to walk through the obstacles...all the while knowing God's promise to never leave or forsake us.

So I say this prayer for my family tonight:

Lord,
I pray that Husband and I take your hand, O God, and that you lead us through this difficult time. We know if we teach the kids to simply hop over icky emotions and situations, they will never learn that you are their ever-present companion -- during the hard times and after.
I pray that 13 year old stepdaughter does not take this as another abandonment, another reason to pull back from us, from you, God, to retreat to her own bedroom and self-destruct.
This house is so full of pain; enter into it, enter into us and create in us a clean heart.
Infuse us with your presence, your comfort.
As a nurturing parent holds his or her child and coos,
"there, there....it's okay....this will pass...."
bring us close to you
and say those words. 

Amen.

Praise to the Provider (hint: it's not me)

Out of control.
I think that is the scariest phrase I am grappling with lately.

It has recently become clear to me that I have been trying to get control of everything.
When I can't control something, I get crabby and snippy and obsessive.
I make lists.
I can't sleep because I'm thinking of 10,000 things that I need to get done, that I need to tell person X, person Y, and person Z.
I make myself ill.
My stuttering problem has resurfaced. Usually it is so minor, compared to childhood, and only I notice it. But since the New Year started, the awful stammer that once plagued me so horribly has returned with a vengeance.
My temper is short.
My angry words are quick.
My eyes become teary at any moment.
I'm easily triggered by past difficult events.
I forget everything.

The train wreck started with losing my keys. It was the week I was horribly sick with stomach issues and went to two emergency doctor appointments, missed two days of work and went to the ER late one Thursday night. That weekend, while recovering, I realized I had lost my entire keychain; many important keys were on that ring.

The next thing to happen was my car accident, February 10th. I drove home from work on the sunny, cold afternoon (snowing a little) and, while driving down the rural highway, I slid on a patch of ice. My car spun and slid into the ditch and flipped on the left side. The car was totaled; I was spared.

That woke me up. I knew that God was telling me something. I knew that God was showing me something, pushing my face into something that I just couldn't grasp:

I couldn't grasp the concept that I had this insatiable need to grasp control.

Couldn't I notice the obsessive list-making I did every single day? I would make lists of things I wanted to get done, no matter if I knew I would get them done or not. Just seeing it written out on a piece of paper made me able to breathe again. The obsessive list-making was a comfort. Didn't I see that it was hurting me?

I hurry, hurry, hurried through the mornings, rushing the kids through the routine because I was afraid of being late for work - another out of control feeling. What had I written about hurrying? Didn't I remember that hurrying makes us hurt?

So the accident happened. I realized I had to wake up to what really mattered. I had to see how little I needed to really be happy. I needed my God, my family, my loved ones. I couldn't control everything in my life. Bad things happen to good people. Car accidents happen on the sunniest of days. Ice can appear on the driest of roads. Lives are saved in instances where they should've died.

But who dictates the should've? I've said that a lot while describing my accident: "Oh, I should've died in that accident; it was that bad. The car flipped on its side and was totaled. I shouldn't be alive."

Really? Am I the one who decides that? Is there a person somewhere with a list of who gets to live and who should die? Who should prosper and who should suffer? Do I actually think that I would be here if I wasn't supposed to be?

Do I actually think my surviving that accident is an accident, itself?

I'm coming to this realization as I write this, folks. It's a spontaneous learning experience. I do not call those shots. You don't, either. None of us do. You can see where I'm going with this...

The Almighty Father has the control. The "God of Parting Waters....God of Falling Bread" is in control. God is the one who calls the Shoulds, the Cans and the Great Is.

And the Great Is in my life is the fact that I am alive and I now see that God wanted that and that is why it is.

I also think God wants to use that experience as a wake-up call.

Well, maybe I need a bigger alarm clock...

In the days following the accident, Husband and I found out various horrible financial facts. A dozen things came down on us at once and the fact is is that we have to dish out a heck of a lot of money in the next few months and leading up to tax time.

After the weekend "high," coming off of the accident where I felt such gratitude and joy at my life being spared, feeling my faith renewed (or so I thought), I was hit in the face with these sudden debts that threatened our "secure" existence.

Husband became very discouraged at our circumstances and I joined him in the sorrow festival. Oh Lord, we cried together, why are you doing this? Haven't we been good? Don't you love us?

All right, maybe we didn't ask those exact questions, but I know that's what our deepest heart-parts echoed.

But the first work day after the accident - that Monday - I returned to my obsessive list-making. The new financial burdens made me write out various budgets in the five or ten free minute intervals I had during the work day. My lists started getting more detailed and refined. What was once to-do things became to-say things. I felt if I didn't write it down on paper, I would forget everything. It became so severe that I had anxiety attacks over not having that "magic notebook" containing those lists. And when we figured out one financial burden, another one kept popping its ugly head up and landing in our laps.

Really, Lord? I must have cried as I hunched over my tiny notebook, scribbling away. All these financial burdens, the fact of needing a new vehicle, all the insurance hoops, plus all the stress that comes with having three traumatized stepchildren going through a very difficult adaptation to living in a more stable home. Plus trying to rehome a fearful dog whom we love and adore, but know needs to be in a different home in order to thrive.

It's too much, I sobbed into my pillow one recent night. My body clenched, my fists clenched, my toes curled.

One morning last week, I sat in a Wendy's and I decided to journal about all the struggle I felt. I felt compelled to look up what Jesus said about worry in the book of Matthew:

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life^?
    “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own." (Matthew: 6:25-34 NIV).

I wrote the following in my prayer journal:

"Do we add a single hour to our life by worrying? No, we take AWAY hours of our lives by worrying. Hurry makes us hurt, says Ann Voskamp. Hurry makes haste which makes waste. I waste hours of my life by worrying. How can I doubt God's provisions for me? My LIFE was spared last Friday afternoon! 
Lisa, how much more important are YOU than an automobile! 
God saved ME - He will surely provide me with reliable transportation to and from the work He has appointed me to do. 
I feel a shift since pondering those Matthew verses. I was feeling very defeated with the money and now with the car and all the items I've lost over the past weeks...and doing all this, I know God is revealing to me my insistent, sinful need to CONTROL everything and everyone. 
Lord, I'm stopping the controlling. You are the One in control. I bow to Your will. 
I turned a corner while writing this, while reading what Jesus said about worry. Yes, I've read all those verses before, but they have new meaning now. 
May I never doubt. May I never forget the transformational power of God's Word."

That afternoon, things turned around. I was put in a difficult position at work and I intentionally let go of the need to control it and I went into it happily, relying on God to assist with the difficult parts. And I got through it with flying colors.

A few items I had lost were found the following afternoon. Not my coveted keychain with very important keys, but rather a phone battery I desperately needed as well as a rosary a friend gave me to give to a very special person (a story I have yet to tell on this blog - I will, promise! The draft is in the works).

As soon as I laid the gauntlet down; as soon as I unclenched my hands and held them out empty, the struggle lessened.

Did all our financial burdens disappear? Absolutely not. We are still in serious trouble.

BUT amazing blessings happened this past Friday, the week anniversary of the accident:

The rental car company I was dealing with had exceptional customer service and I had joyful interactions with the people there, ran into a woman who also lived in my small town and we found out we both have girls in 7th grade. We had a great talk. I also discovered through friendly conversation that she was trading in the very type of car that Husband and I were looking to purchase with the insurance money. I received good advice from her. The young Vietnamese man who drove me to my auto body shop to pick up the FREE rental car the owner was giving me (because he knew me and had worked with me a lot before - quite the blessing, yes?) was exceptionally polite and kind and we shared wonderful conversation, talking about our families, his coming to the United States not long ago, my writing, how I've come to the conclusion that struggle can be beautiful...we delved into deep topics for a 25 minute car ride in rush hour. I felt blessed to have such a soulful exchange and when I arrived at the auto body shop, I felt like I was bidding a friend goodbye. The auto body shop owner, as I said, gave me a free rental until I got my new car. I was overcome with astonishment at the blessings of that day. None of the icky things disappeared, but I opened my eyes, my heart, and my hands and I saw so much beauty and goodness.

I saw God is in control and He should be. I have no business trying to control everything around me.

I'm not saying I will simply coast through life making no decisions; I am saying that I no longer rely on my own understanding.
I do not have the power I thought I had. I'm not saying I am powerless, but I know now that God is the most powerful. He is the only provider I can count on.

"And God will generously provide all you need. Then you will always have everything you need and plenty left over to share with others" (2 Corinthians 9:8 NLT).  

Lord, it seems I must give my life to You over and over for I have not learned the lessons I need to learn. They come to me and then they leave. Realizations settle in, but I return to my prideful and ego-driven ways. I know the Truth of You and then I rest and believe the world's falsities  I am human, Father, and I know that You know that and love me despite and because. You knew I would get it wrong so often; Jesus knew we would get it wrong so often - that is why He died on the Cross.

"For God so loved your broken heart 
He sent His Son to where you are 
and He died to give a reason for the world.
So lift your sorrows to the One  
Whose plan for you has just begun...

Maybe the reason for the pain  
Is so we would pray for strength 
And maybe the reason for the strength 
Is so that we would not lose hope 
And maybe the reason for all hope 
Is so that we could face the world  
And the reason for the world 
Is to make us long for home "


("The Reason for the World" by Matthew West)

This long blog entry can be summed up in the following verse from 2 Corinthians 1:3: 

"All praise to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the source of every mercy and the God who comforts us. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When others are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us."(NLT)

That is what I want this winding, talkative blog entry to be to you: an account of how God comforts me in my trouble so that I can comfort others, so I can spread my story, these Dove Chronicles. Read the last line of that verse: when you are troubled, I want to give you the same comfort God has given me. Because this is real. I am a real person, living a real life, having real problems, and coming face to face with my own humanity and weaknesses -- yet in my belief in the Lord, I am made whole. 

Not sure about how you fit into this concept? 
Just look to His Word:

"May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God" (Ephesians 3:19 NLT). 


What else can I possibly add to that?