I don't know who needs to hear this, but someone does; so I will be obedient to what I feel.
I went for a bike ride this afternoon. I wasn't sure if I even really wanted to, but I knew that if I didn't and the weather was bad for the next few days, I would be really mad at myself for not going riding. The ride out was really hard; the wind was blowing so hard against me as I rode. I could only go about 10 miles an hour (I am usually going about 20 to 22 on average). So, my pace was half what I am used to. Also, it takes a lot more work and hurts more to ride into to wind. I just kept reminding myself that the same wind that was blowing against me was going to blow behind me on the way back. The wind serves to make you stronger. It was a metaphor that God was painting for me. Sometimes in life that wind seems to blow so strong against us. It seems like we are making no progress at all and could possibly being blown backward. It seems like we aren't going to make it. I can be so frustrating, exhausting and seem hopeless. As I got to the end of the trail and turned to come back home, I felt exhilarated. I felt re-energized knowing that the wind was about to be my friend. I began to pedal and I could feel the wind behind me blowing. After pushing so hard to make such slow progress the ride home seemed so amazing. I just kept feeling like saying "blow me home, Lord." I was almost in tears with joy thinking about how the same wind that blows against us to make us strong, can turn, blow behind us and make the progress seem unreal and so effortless. It was as if I was flying (22 or 23 miles an hour).
So hear is the message, though I don't know who it's for. The wind is there to make you strong. Hang on, keep pushing. You can make it; He will make sure you make it. And when the wind has done it's job and you have build the strength you need to build during this season, the wind will turn. It will blow behind you and you will get to fly. The wind is not forever. That same wind will blow you right home. The wind is good. The wind is your friend. Just hang tight; it's turning soon. The ride home is worth the ride out!!!
Seems so trivial and silly now in print. But I have decided to obey Him even when I feel like it could make me look foolish, b/c I value His opinion more than the opinion of anyone else. It seemed really silly to be tickled to tears over the wind blowing behind me so I could feel like I was flying, but it was cool. Only a cyclist can probably appreciate that feeling of a tail wind, but it is amazing and fun.
Friday, December 31, 2010
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
Presence
Everywhere I turn the message to me seems to be "stay in the moment, be present". I have never been very good at that and I am not sure that I even totally understand what that means. I do know that I have a loving, gracious heavenly Father who is willing and in the process of teaching me what that means and how to do it. Jesus was always in the moment, fully engaged and available. Now, being in the moment is not something that we, as Americans, are very good at. To further complicate that matter for me is the survival mechanism I learned from a very early age to keep myself alive. I spend the first 20 years of my life escaping in my mind, detaching myself from whatever abuse I might be experiencing at the moment. I lived most of my life in a very compartmentalized manner. I would keep things in boxes and closets in my mind. It has taken the last 18 years of my life to learn not to disassociate from what was going on around me. But, for the majority of my life I felt like I lived inside a plexiglass box that no one else could see. I could see and be seen, communicate and appear to be involved, but there was a thick sheet of plexiglass between me and everyone else. This left me feeling isolated and alone. Now this compartmentalization and detachment served me well in my early years. Without that coping strategy I am not sure I would have been able to survive the things I have survived, however, I cannot keep living my life that way, nor can I use the abuse as an excuse to stay disconnected. For one thing, that kind of live is not truly alive; it is a hollow, empty, dead existence. We are called out of death and into life. We are called to depth, abundance and richness. In the last 18 months I have learned, for the first time in my life to connect with people. I have learned to allow people into my space and let them become important enough to me that they aren't dispensable. I have learned to feel empathy for others, to feel their pain and joy, to share in the experience of humanity. I have learned to not shut down when I feel emotions for myself or for others. I have learned to show people how broken I am; I have learned to expose my weaknesses and struggles, to trust people with the holes in my armor and even begin to tear down the fortress that has kept me safe, but isolated. This process has been a learning process and a healing process. It has been allowing God to talk to me and expose the roots and then give me the courage to reach out and open up. It has been such a tremendous and amazing experience. I have so many really wonderful people in my life. I have so many deep connections.
Now I feel like God is saying it's time to take it a step further. I don't really live too much in the past. The past is over; God has forgiven me and healed me of so much. What I did not realize was that I have been living in the future more than that presence. I am realizing that I have missed out on the fullness of so many experiences and so much love and beauty in my life b/c I was always striving to make things better. I have been so driven for so many years to get us in a "better financial situation". I have always wanted my children to have more than we did. I wanted to take them on vacations, pay for them to go to college. I wanted to be able to give them lessons/sports/or whatever they wanted to participate in. I wanted to be able to give them braces, buy them a car when they were old enough to drive. I didn't want them to feel like we were poor. (Not that we are poor in comparison to the rest of the world.) I am not talking filthy rich just comfortable. What I am now realizing is that we are still pretty much in the same financial situation that we have been in for the last decade, so that striving and discontentment have not moved us forward at all. What it has done is make me miss out on really being present for the life we have lived in the moments we have lived it. It's not like I am saying that I wasn't around. I just missed out on really just enjoying the moments and resting in exactly the place we were in. I was discontent and striving, obsessed with this idea that if we had more, if I could give the kids what I didn't have that they would be happier and turn out better. I realize now that I could have taught them the beauty of contentment in the Lord. I could have taught them the beauty of God's provision and delighting in unexpected blessings instead of teaching them that "tomorrow when we have more then we can really live." I have not taught them to rest and be thankful for the little things. I have not stopped to smell the roses, or taste the sweetness of the fruit, or look at the beauty all around us, b/c I was in too big a hurry to get to some "ideal destination". Who needs Disneyland when you have woods and bugs, creeks and fish, stars and lightning bugs?
I guess my point is (I hope I have conveyed my heart) that the moments and experiences I could have had with my children and husband were not fully experienced as they could have been b/c I was too busy being discontent and thinking that I would enjoy life when I "arrived" at the "destination". I have heard a lot that life is a journey not a destination, but I think I just now really understand what that means. The bumps, struggles, and tests are part of the beauty as are the moments of laughter, good food and just sitting under the stars.
That being said, I cannot go back and change any of that. I also cannot live in regret or condemnation. What I can do is start today learning to be present. I can start to be aware of things around me and in me. I can begin to indulge the senses that God gave me and enjoy all that is around me. I can be in the moments I am given and trust the the next moments will come by God's grace without me having to fret or help them along. I can take moment to kiss my husband and tell him every day several times a day how much I love him and how grateful I am that he loves me and that I get to share life with him. I can stop and listen to Chloe's stories about her day. I can allow my children to help me cook and sew or whatever they are interested in participating with me. I can listen to the music Stephen wants to share with me. I can gaze at the incredible beauty that Ally has grown into. I can experience the smell of the coffee at work and connect with each of my customers with genuine appreciation that they have come to see me. I can stop and slowly chew and taste my food. I can be aware of how songs move me or art inspires me. I can be aware of my breath going in and out as I run. I can smell the food cooking and anticipate the taste in my mouth. I can let myself touch the textures all around me. I can stop to feel the wind and smell the scents it carries to me. I can walk in the grass barefoot, jump on the trampoline, listen to my husband breath as he sleeps. I can allow myself time to create just for the sake of creating. The list is endless. I will live in this moment. It will take practice. I am sure there is so much more to this that God will need to teach me, but today I will begin the journey of embracing the journey. I will let the destination take care of itself. I have ended up in so many places different from where I thought I would be. I don't know exactly all the places this path God has me one will lead to, but I do know that I can enjoy the walk and experience it deeply instead of trying to get to where I am going "quickly".
Now I feel like God is saying it's time to take it a step further. I don't really live too much in the past. The past is over; God has forgiven me and healed me of so much. What I did not realize was that I have been living in the future more than that presence. I am realizing that I have missed out on the fullness of so many experiences and so much love and beauty in my life b/c I was always striving to make things better. I have been so driven for so many years to get us in a "better financial situation". I have always wanted my children to have more than we did. I wanted to take them on vacations, pay for them to go to college. I wanted to be able to give them lessons/sports/or whatever they wanted to participate in. I wanted to be able to give them braces, buy them a car when they were old enough to drive. I didn't want them to feel like we were poor. (Not that we are poor in comparison to the rest of the world.) I am not talking filthy rich just comfortable. What I am now realizing is that we are still pretty much in the same financial situation that we have been in for the last decade, so that striving and discontentment have not moved us forward at all. What it has done is make me miss out on really being present for the life we have lived in the moments we have lived it. It's not like I am saying that I wasn't around. I just missed out on really just enjoying the moments and resting in exactly the place we were in. I was discontent and striving, obsessed with this idea that if we had more, if I could give the kids what I didn't have that they would be happier and turn out better. I realize now that I could have taught them the beauty of contentment in the Lord. I could have taught them the beauty of God's provision and delighting in unexpected blessings instead of teaching them that "tomorrow when we have more then we can really live." I have not taught them to rest and be thankful for the little things. I have not stopped to smell the roses, or taste the sweetness of the fruit, or look at the beauty all around us, b/c I was in too big a hurry to get to some "ideal destination". Who needs Disneyland when you have woods and bugs, creeks and fish, stars and lightning bugs?
I guess my point is (I hope I have conveyed my heart) that the moments and experiences I could have had with my children and husband were not fully experienced as they could have been b/c I was too busy being discontent and thinking that I would enjoy life when I "arrived" at the "destination". I have heard a lot that life is a journey not a destination, but I think I just now really understand what that means. The bumps, struggles, and tests are part of the beauty as are the moments of laughter, good food and just sitting under the stars.
That being said, I cannot go back and change any of that. I also cannot live in regret or condemnation. What I can do is start today learning to be present. I can start to be aware of things around me and in me. I can begin to indulge the senses that God gave me and enjoy all that is around me. I can be in the moments I am given and trust the the next moments will come by God's grace without me having to fret or help them along. I can take moment to kiss my husband and tell him every day several times a day how much I love him and how grateful I am that he loves me and that I get to share life with him. I can stop and listen to Chloe's stories about her day. I can allow my children to help me cook and sew or whatever they are interested in participating with me. I can listen to the music Stephen wants to share with me. I can gaze at the incredible beauty that Ally has grown into. I can experience the smell of the coffee at work and connect with each of my customers with genuine appreciation that they have come to see me. I can stop and slowly chew and taste my food. I can be aware of how songs move me or art inspires me. I can be aware of my breath going in and out as I run. I can smell the food cooking and anticipate the taste in my mouth. I can let myself touch the textures all around me. I can stop to feel the wind and smell the scents it carries to me. I can walk in the grass barefoot, jump on the trampoline, listen to my husband breath as he sleeps. I can allow myself time to create just for the sake of creating. The list is endless. I will live in this moment. It will take practice. I am sure there is so much more to this that God will need to teach me, but today I will begin the journey of embracing the journey. I will let the destination take care of itself. I have ended up in so many places different from where I thought I would be. I don't know exactly all the places this path God has me one will lead to, but I do know that I can enjoy the walk and experience it deeply instead of trying to get to where I am going "quickly".
Sunday, November 28, 2010
Rest for the Soul
As I talked about on my last post, I took a class that recently ended called "Renovation of the Heart." It has a tremendous impact on me and is continuing to have an impact on my as I attempt to continue walking in the spiritual disciplines that I developed through the class. The last couple weeks of the class ended up being very, very busy for me, so I have taken the couple weeks since it ended to slowly go through the last 3 chapters. One of the exercises that I went back and did from chapter 11 in the book had really impacted me the last couple weeks. I didn't really think it impacted me so much at the time I did it; I undertook the exercise b/c I wanted to be faithful to finish the class strong and not skimp out on the end of it. I have realized over the last couple weeks that it did impact my thinking.
I was to have Psalm 23 read out loud to me once through, then read again slowly pausing between each verse. ( I read it to myself). The I was to ask the Lord these two questions: 1)What needed to happen for my soul to be restored? 2) What is the first thing I need to do to find rest in you? I sat for quite a while asking and trying to be quiet and listen for the answers. Quite honestly, I was also dozing off a bit b/c I was really tired that day. I felt very impressed that the area of my life that I did not have rest in my soul was my children. I feel pretty much at peace, trusting and restful in most other areas of my life. I was not at rest in regard to my children. My lack of rest is a little different than one might think.
I trust the Lord with my children, or so I think. I do not trust myself, though, with my children. I feel like I have made so many mistakes raising them. I feel like I will realize later that I have continued to make mistakes with them. I try to do right by them. I try to make wise decision in regard to them, but, if I am being brutally honest, I feel like a failure in the area of parenting so much of the time. I didn't have much a role model growing up, and my role models when I started having children were extremely imbalanced. I am old enough to have seen the kids of the church I attended when I first met the Lord and had Ally grow to adults. There was a lot of hurt and mess they all had to work through due to the disciplinary measures and environments they grew up in. So I have tried to strike a balance between the uber discipline of that system and the lack of discipline I grew up in. I sure don't have it figured out and I am so grateful for God's grace and mercy. I have tried to be honest with my children about my weaknesses and struggles. I have tried to keep open communication and not be so dogmatic about what I thought that they wouldn't feel like they could talk to me. I try to apologize when I am wrong and take responsibility. I try to see things from their perspective and not see "different" as "wrong". I never wanted to be one of those moms who put down the kids music and acted like the music from my childhood was so much better. I try to remember how frustrating it was when my parents hated my music, so I listen to their music with them and find that I actually end up like a lot of it. I try not to get overly wrapped up in how they dress, what they do to their hair, etc; I try to encourage the dreams or interests they have and not force my expectations or dreams for their lives on them. I have tried to do the best I can...
But I know that I am not always easy to deal with. I can be irritable. I put way too much pressure on poor Alexandra when she was younger. I have drug them from church to church and only in the last year have put down roots. I have not raised them in an environment to really learn what the Word of God says or how to walk with Jesus. We don't eat dinner as a family and never have. We don't pray together like we should or read the bible as a family. They watched me struggle and lose the battle with alcohol for quite a while. They have grown up in an environment where we have struggled with money their whole lives. Things could definitely be worse, but they haven't gotten to travel or go on vacations. They don't get a lot of extra stuff. They have had to wear worn out clothes or what ever we were given. All this material stuff may sound silly to most, but I just always wanted them to be able to do more than I was able to do. I wanted them to see other parts of the world. I wanted them to be able to do sports, or art, or dance, or whatever. We just have not really been able to do that very much. I was always so busy when they were babies. I didn't learn how to play as a child, so I wasn't very good at just sitting down to play games with them or pretend. I didn't do crafts and fun stuff. Sometimes I wish that I could have them as children now b/c I didn't really appreciate the time I had with them. I wasn't good at being silly with them.
Anyway, enough of that. The point is... I am very aware of the mistakes that I have made. I know that no one is perfect, but I don't really feel like I did as good of a job as I could have. Not that it is all over. I still have years to invest, love and impact them. I just feel like some of the more formative years could have been better. So, I have really struggled with fear that I have messed up my children. I have been afraid that I have damaged them and that they will have a harder life b/c of me or maybe even not serve God b/c of me. Like I said, I trust God, but I have not trusted myself. I have felt like maybe someone else could have done better or maybe I could have done a better job if I had started later in life. What God showed me is that the root of not trusting myself really boils down to not trusting Him.
He gently, over the weeks after asking Him to show me what needed to happen for me to find "soul rest" in Him in regard to my children, started to peel back layers and give me a realistic picture of the truth. I have peace in my life over every thing that happened to me growing up and all the pain. I am at peace with that fact that His grace has carried me throughout my entire life. He knew everything that would happen and how I would react to it and the outcome of it all. He knew when I would walk into that church where I accepted Him as my Creator and Savior. He prepared my heart so that the words of David Fees would penetrate my heart and bring me to my knees. He opened my heart and eyes to set me on the path of the Kingdom. He even chose my parents to be who they are knowing how broken and incapable they were.....
Now, if that is the case for me. If He loves me and His grace carried me and brought me to exactly the place to have my whole world turned upside down and put me on the path of serving Him. Then the same is the case for each of my children. He loves them more than I will ever be able to comprehend. He chose me as their mother. He chose the timing that each of them would be conceived and born. He chose Ally's genetic father. He chose Larry as Stephens father and chose the timing that he would be conceived. He chose Larry to be Ally's father and ordained that they would love each other beyond any genetic differences. God chose me to be mother to each of the three, Ally, Stephen, and Chloe knowing every struggle I have, knowing every mistake I would make raising them, and knowing the outcome of it all. Nothing I have done has been a surprise to Him or thrown a kink into His plan for them. A friend wisely said to me, "Do you think you are powerful enough to mess up God's plan?" Even after that I still struggled with really resting in God's grace for me and my children. But, when God broke it down so intricately, I finally got it. He chose me, knowing how hard it would be for me to raise them and how many mistakes I would make and He actually wove into the fabric of each of their lives and His plan for them all of those variables. It all comes together for good. It all works out. Just as my temperament and environment would shape me into exactly what would balance my husband and how his temperament and environment would shape him to bring about one beautiful union and person out of two.
I have found soul rest. I pray for my children every day and ask God to be merciful and call them to himself. I ask him to set into motion those things that need to be to bring them to where he wants them to be and to do whatever it takes to bring about the most eternal significance and the most authentic and sincere relationship possible. I trust Him to bring that to pass. Salvation belongs to the Lord. I cannot save my children; I cannot make them serve God. I cannot control or protect them enough to guarantee they will have not pain or turn their hearts to God. We all need God's grace and mercy to come to know Him and all we can call upon in regard to our children is His grace and mercy. They will only serve Him if He opens their hearts to serve Him. We can plant seeds, put the kindling around their hearts and model the kingdom, but only God can light the fire. I will continue to seek to be faithful to my children, pray for my children and love them, but I won't fret and worry anymore, b/c He knows all and took all into account.
Below is a really neat scene from a movie I saw a while back that I think illustrates so beautifully how God can set into motion a chain of events that will place us where we need to be when we need to be there.
Stop the Flow
I was to have Psalm 23 read out loud to me once through, then read again slowly pausing between each verse. ( I read it to myself). The I was to ask the Lord these two questions: 1)What needed to happen for my soul to be restored? 2) What is the first thing I need to do to find rest in you? I sat for quite a while asking and trying to be quiet and listen for the answers. Quite honestly, I was also dozing off a bit b/c I was really tired that day. I felt very impressed that the area of my life that I did not have rest in my soul was my children. I feel pretty much at peace, trusting and restful in most other areas of my life. I was not at rest in regard to my children. My lack of rest is a little different than one might think.
I trust the Lord with my children, or so I think. I do not trust myself, though, with my children. I feel like I have made so many mistakes raising them. I feel like I will realize later that I have continued to make mistakes with them. I try to do right by them. I try to make wise decision in regard to them, but, if I am being brutally honest, I feel like a failure in the area of parenting so much of the time. I didn't have much a role model growing up, and my role models when I started having children were extremely imbalanced. I am old enough to have seen the kids of the church I attended when I first met the Lord and had Ally grow to adults. There was a lot of hurt and mess they all had to work through due to the disciplinary measures and environments they grew up in. So I have tried to strike a balance between the uber discipline of that system and the lack of discipline I grew up in. I sure don't have it figured out and I am so grateful for God's grace and mercy. I have tried to be honest with my children about my weaknesses and struggles. I have tried to keep open communication and not be so dogmatic about what I thought that they wouldn't feel like they could talk to me. I try to apologize when I am wrong and take responsibility. I try to see things from their perspective and not see "different" as "wrong". I never wanted to be one of those moms who put down the kids music and acted like the music from my childhood was so much better. I try to remember how frustrating it was when my parents hated my music, so I listen to their music with them and find that I actually end up like a lot of it. I try not to get overly wrapped up in how they dress, what they do to their hair, etc; I try to encourage the dreams or interests they have and not force my expectations or dreams for their lives on them. I have tried to do the best I can...
But I know that I am not always easy to deal with. I can be irritable. I put way too much pressure on poor Alexandra when she was younger. I have drug them from church to church and only in the last year have put down roots. I have not raised them in an environment to really learn what the Word of God says or how to walk with Jesus. We don't eat dinner as a family and never have. We don't pray together like we should or read the bible as a family. They watched me struggle and lose the battle with alcohol for quite a while. They have grown up in an environment where we have struggled with money their whole lives. Things could definitely be worse, but they haven't gotten to travel or go on vacations. They don't get a lot of extra stuff. They have had to wear worn out clothes or what ever we were given. All this material stuff may sound silly to most, but I just always wanted them to be able to do more than I was able to do. I wanted them to see other parts of the world. I wanted them to be able to do sports, or art, or dance, or whatever. We just have not really been able to do that very much. I was always so busy when they were babies. I didn't learn how to play as a child, so I wasn't very good at just sitting down to play games with them or pretend. I didn't do crafts and fun stuff. Sometimes I wish that I could have them as children now b/c I didn't really appreciate the time I had with them. I wasn't good at being silly with them.
Anyway, enough of that. The point is... I am very aware of the mistakes that I have made. I know that no one is perfect, but I don't really feel like I did as good of a job as I could have. Not that it is all over. I still have years to invest, love and impact them. I just feel like some of the more formative years could have been better. So, I have really struggled with fear that I have messed up my children. I have been afraid that I have damaged them and that they will have a harder life b/c of me or maybe even not serve God b/c of me. Like I said, I trust God, but I have not trusted myself. I have felt like maybe someone else could have done better or maybe I could have done a better job if I had started later in life. What God showed me is that the root of not trusting myself really boils down to not trusting Him.
He gently, over the weeks after asking Him to show me what needed to happen for me to find "soul rest" in Him in regard to my children, started to peel back layers and give me a realistic picture of the truth. I have peace in my life over every thing that happened to me growing up and all the pain. I am at peace with that fact that His grace has carried me throughout my entire life. He knew everything that would happen and how I would react to it and the outcome of it all. He knew when I would walk into that church where I accepted Him as my Creator and Savior. He prepared my heart so that the words of David Fees would penetrate my heart and bring me to my knees. He opened my heart and eyes to set me on the path of the Kingdom. He even chose my parents to be who they are knowing how broken and incapable they were.....
Now, if that is the case for me. If He loves me and His grace carried me and brought me to exactly the place to have my whole world turned upside down and put me on the path of serving Him. Then the same is the case for each of my children. He loves them more than I will ever be able to comprehend. He chose me as their mother. He chose the timing that each of them would be conceived and born. He chose Ally's genetic father. He chose Larry as Stephens father and chose the timing that he would be conceived. He chose Larry to be Ally's father and ordained that they would love each other beyond any genetic differences. God chose me to be mother to each of the three, Ally, Stephen, and Chloe knowing every struggle I have, knowing every mistake I would make raising them, and knowing the outcome of it all. Nothing I have done has been a surprise to Him or thrown a kink into His plan for them. A friend wisely said to me, "Do you think you are powerful enough to mess up God's plan?" Even after that I still struggled with really resting in God's grace for me and my children. But, when God broke it down so intricately, I finally got it. He chose me, knowing how hard it would be for me to raise them and how many mistakes I would make and He actually wove into the fabric of each of their lives and His plan for them all of those variables. It all comes together for good. It all works out. Just as my temperament and environment would shape me into exactly what would balance my husband and how his temperament and environment would shape him to bring about one beautiful union and person out of two.
I have found soul rest. I pray for my children every day and ask God to be merciful and call them to himself. I ask him to set into motion those things that need to be to bring them to where he wants them to be and to do whatever it takes to bring about the most eternal significance and the most authentic and sincere relationship possible. I trust Him to bring that to pass. Salvation belongs to the Lord. I cannot save my children; I cannot make them serve God. I cannot control or protect them enough to guarantee they will have not pain or turn their hearts to God. We all need God's grace and mercy to come to know Him and all we can call upon in regard to our children is His grace and mercy. They will only serve Him if He opens their hearts to serve Him. We can plant seeds, put the kindling around their hearts and model the kingdom, but only God can light the fire. I will continue to seek to be faithful to my children, pray for my children and love them, but I won't fret and worry anymore, b/c He knows all and took all into account.
Below is a really neat scene from a movie I saw a while back that I think illustrates so beautifully how God can set into motion a chain of events that will place us where we need to be when we need to be there.
Stop the Flow
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
A lesson in cleaning toilets
This is a post that has been simmering in my head for a few weeks. It is another from the Fright Fest month; I have just been waiting for the time to type it.
Just a little background. I have been taking a class over the last 3 months or so called Renovation of the Heart; the book is written by Dallas Willard. It is about building spiritual disciplines into your life and allowing Christ to reshape you into His image. That has been a theme in my life over the last few months anyway. Everywhere I look God sends some situation, person or resource to point me in that direction. I highly recommend the book. It is not an easy process to begin; the digging can be uncomfortable if not painful, but as Christians that is what we are called to. We are not called to pray a prayer and then live however we want. That is not what the Gospel is about. It is about being totally and radically changed from the inside out. We are called to be disciples (apprentices) of Christ and to live our lives the way He lived. He left us His example to follow. The trick is that it is totally impossible to do on our own and in our own power. Only in total surrender to Christ and His will, Spirit and power can we be remade in His image. The equally tricky side of the coin is that He will not force us to change. He will empower us and even do the work in us, but not if we don't desire it. So it becomes what has been coined grace driven effort. While we cannot do it without Him, He will not force it upon us if we don't desire it. Now we could go really deep and say that really the desire comes from Him as well. If you don't have the desire to have your life renovated and become like Christ, ask Him for the desire and He will be faithful to give it to you. Believe me I have seen it in my life so many times. I knew that I should desire something, but I did not desire it so I would ask Him and He has always been faithful to answer those kind of prayers. The biggest example of that in my life lately has been dealing with my alcohol addiction (read about that here Alcoholic and More on Alcoholism ) So this book is really great about digging really deep and breaking down all the different areas that need to be renovated. It will change your life for the better, but it won't be comfortable.
Because of this class, I was spending a lot of time praying and digging into my junk. I have so much ugliness still inside of me. If I'm not careful it can be disheartening. I have to remember to look backwards at how far I have come on this journey because when I just look forward it seems like I am making no progress. God is so gracious to remind me all the time that I have not "made it"; there is still so far to go; I don't look like Christ even 10% of the time. I am grateful that God uses situation in my life every day to remind me that I can't do this on my own; I cannot boast about the progress that has been made in my life. It is Christ and Christ alone that justifies and sanctifies me.
On to my point in this post. This season at Fright Fest the Saloon (where we handle costumes and makeup for the characters) toilet was on the fritz. It ended up needing the plumbers out every weekend if not all three days of the weekend. After the plumbers would come, then the cleaning crew would come to make sure the bathroom was clean for us to use. The majority of the time it was this same young man who would come to clean. I didn't really pay much mind to what was going on b/c usually I was doing makeup or on my way out to go check out how everyone looked at their posts. One particular day near the end of the season, I needed to use the restroom before I went out so I was waiting on the guy to clean it. I was standing near the door and ended up having a conversation with the young man. When I say young man, I mean he was probably under 25. He was cleaning the bathroom with a smile on his face and talking to me. I mentioned that he must be tired of having to come and clean our bathroom for us. He stated that it wasn't a big deal; the restrooms in the whole park are really old so he is always having to go all over the park cleaning up after the plumber. I was struck by how much pride he took in his job. He really did a good job; he didn't slop through. He was not grumbling or ashamed. He looked me in the face and talked about how it was his job to make sure the bathrooms were in clean condition after plumbing problems. This was a normal, very intelligent, well mannered, nice looking young man. As I waited I was cut so deep in my heart. I don't think that I could take so much pride in being the person who cleans the toilets. I felt so ashamed of my arrogance and ego. I felt the Holy Spirit speak so clearly that Jesus would clean the toilets with nothing but love in His heart for the person who was going to use it. He would not have felt like it was below Him; He would do it with such humility, beauty and love. If I am called to be like Christ, then that is what He calls me to do. I had to ask myself, "If that was my job, could I do it 'heartily unto the Lord' could I take pride in being the person who makes sure that the toilets are lovingly clean for people to sit on?" If I was like Christ, the answer to those questions would be yes; I could not honestly say that I could do that. Honestly, I am still sometimes ashamed to admit I work at Starbucks. That is not meant to put anyone down or make anyone feel bad. That statement is an honest assessment of how far off my heart is from where Christ wants it to be. I know that I could not look at someone in the eyes and say that I clean toilets and do it with pride in my work and worship in my heart. That is a glaring reflection of the pride, arrogance and ego that still lives in my heart. Oh, how ugly I can be on the inside.
I was so convicted. I have since begun praying that God would change my heart and perspective on my job. He gave me the job; He calls me to work at Starbucks and expects me to do it "heartily unto Him". He expects me to make coffee and take orders with love and humility in my heart. I am the one who has taken the gift God has given me in putting me in my job and minimized it to "just coffee". There are no jobs that are meaningless. Every job that every follower of Christ has should be infused with worship. Every job is a solemn and beautiful call to worship our Creator and Savior with our hands. Every moment of our lives is meant to be infused with worship. This is something that was and is very important in a practicing Jewish persons life. A Jewish person sees worship of the Creator God is woven into the fabric of life. In Jesus time that would have been a very prevalent way of life. We seem to have lost this idea. We so compartmentalize life that we cannot see that every thing we do is worship. We aren't called to do God things on Sunday and non God things the rest of the time. Every moment of our lives should be infused with and driven by worship of the Lord Jesus Christ. He wants everything, every moment, thought, and little piece of our hearts. If I could just get my heart wrapped around that idea the toilet guy would not have struck me so strongly. I would have understood that it is just as it should be that he takes such pride in his work and feels so positively about what he does.
Ugh!! I still am filled with so much ego and entitlement. Thank God that His love for me is not dependent on my heart or actions. Thank God that I am saved by grace and grace alone. Thank Jesus that I don't have to clean up my heart. He does it for me.
Just a little background. I have been taking a class over the last 3 months or so called Renovation of the Heart; the book is written by Dallas Willard. It is about building spiritual disciplines into your life and allowing Christ to reshape you into His image. That has been a theme in my life over the last few months anyway. Everywhere I look God sends some situation, person or resource to point me in that direction. I highly recommend the book. It is not an easy process to begin; the digging can be uncomfortable if not painful, but as Christians that is what we are called to. We are not called to pray a prayer and then live however we want. That is not what the Gospel is about. It is about being totally and radically changed from the inside out. We are called to be disciples (apprentices) of Christ and to live our lives the way He lived. He left us His example to follow. The trick is that it is totally impossible to do on our own and in our own power. Only in total surrender to Christ and His will, Spirit and power can we be remade in His image. The equally tricky side of the coin is that He will not force us to change. He will empower us and even do the work in us, but not if we don't desire it. So it becomes what has been coined grace driven effort. While we cannot do it without Him, He will not force it upon us if we don't desire it. Now we could go really deep and say that really the desire comes from Him as well. If you don't have the desire to have your life renovated and become like Christ, ask Him for the desire and He will be faithful to give it to you. Believe me I have seen it in my life so many times. I knew that I should desire something, but I did not desire it so I would ask Him and He has always been faithful to answer those kind of prayers. The biggest example of that in my life lately has been dealing with my alcohol addiction (read about that here Alcoholic and More on Alcoholism ) So this book is really great about digging really deep and breaking down all the different areas that need to be renovated. It will change your life for the better, but it won't be comfortable.
Because of this class, I was spending a lot of time praying and digging into my junk. I have so much ugliness still inside of me. If I'm not careful it can be disheartening. I have to remember to look backwards at how far I have come on this journey because when I just look forward it seems like I am making no progress. God is so gracious to remind me all the time that I have not "made it"; there is still so far to go; I don't look like Christ even 10% of the time. I am grateful that God uses situation in my life every day to remind me that I can't do this on my own; I cannot boast about the progress that has been made in my life. It is Christ and Christ alone that justifies and sanctifies me.
On to my point in this post. This season at Fright Fest the Saloon (where we handle costumes and makeup for the characters) toilet was on the fritz. It ended up needing the plumbers out every weekend if not all three days of the weekend. After the plumbers would come, then the cleaning crew would come to make sure the bathroom was clean for us to use. The majority of the time it was this same young man who would come to clean. I didn't really pay much mind to what was going on b/c usually I was doing makeup or on my way out to go check out how everyone looked at their posts. One particular day near the end of the season, I needed to use the restroom before I went out so I was waiting on the guy to clean it. I was standing near the door and ended up having a conversation with the young man. When I say young man, I mean he was probably under 25. He was cleaning the bathroom with a smile on his face and talking to me. I mentioned that he must be tired of having to come and clean our bathroom for us. He stated that it wasn't a big deal; the restrooms in the whole park are really old so he is always having to go all over the park cleaning up after the plumber. I was struck by how much pride he took in his job. He really did a good job; he didn't slop through. He was not grumbling or ashamed. He looked me in the face and talked about how it was his job to make sure the bathrooms were in clean condition after plumbing problems. This was a normal, very intelligent, well mannered, nice looking young man. As I waited I was cut so deep in my heart. I don't think that I could take so much pride in being the person who cleans the toilets. I felt so ashamed of my arrogance and ego. I felt the Holy Spirit speak so clearly that Jesus would clean the toilets with nothing but love in His heart for the person who was going to use it. He would not have felt like it was below Him; He would do it with such humility, beauty and love. If I am called to be like Christ, then that is what He calls me to do. I had to ask myself, "If that was my job, could I do it 'heartily unto the Lord' could I take pride in being the person who makes sure that the toilets are lovingly clean for people to sit on?" If I was like Christ, the answer to those questions would be yes; I could not honestly say that I could do that. Honestly, I am still sometimes ashamed to admit I work at Starbucks. That is not meant to put anyone down or make anyone feel bad. That statement is an honest assessment of how far off my heart is from where Christ wants it to be. I know that I could not look at someone in the eyes and say that I clean toilets and do it with pride in my work and worship in my heart. That is a glaring reflection of the pride, arrogance and ego that still lives in my heart. Oh, how ugly I can be on the inside.
I was so convicted. I have since begun praying that God would change my heart and perspective on my job. He gave me the job; He calls me to work at Starbucks and expects me to do it "heartily unto Him". He expects me to make coffee and take orders with love and humility in my heart. I am the one who has taken the gift God has given me in putting me in my job and minimized it to "just coffee". There are no jobs that are meaningless. Every job that every follower of Christ has should be infused with worship. Every job is a solemn and beautiful call to worship our Creator and Savior with our hands. Every moment of our lives is meant to be infused with worship. This is something that was and is very important in a practicing Jewish persons life. A Jewish person sees worship of the Creator God is woven into the fabric of life. In Jesus time that would have been a very prevalent way of life. We seem to have lost this idea. We so compartmentalize life that we cannot see that every thing we do is worship. We aren't called to do God things on Sunday and non God things the rest of the time. Every moment of our lives should be infused with and driven by worship of the Lord Jesus Christ. He wants everything, every moment, thought, and little piece of our hearts. If I could just get my heart wrapped around that idea the toilet guy would not have struck me so strongly. I would have understood that it is just as it should be that he takes such pride in his work and feels so positively about what he does.
Ugh!! I still am filled with so much ego and entitlement. Thank God that His love for me is not dependent on my heart or actions. Thank God that I am saved by grace and grace alone. Thank Jesus that I don't have to clean up my heart. He does it for me.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Baby Boy
Yes, again it has been a very long time since I wrote. October was a very long month. I was intending to only work my yearly Fright Fest job doing makeup out at Six Flags, but things did not go quite as planned. I ended up needing to have a surgical biopsy done which meant that I needed to keep my Starbucks job and insurance. That complication led to me working two jobs; it was a pretty exhausting run. Then in the midst of that I had surgery to have lymph node removed and biopsied. Praise God, the lymph node ended up not being cancerous. Oddly enough, it was filled with blue black tattoo pigment. I didn't even know that was possible. Google it if you are skeptical. I was and I did and it does happen. It is not harmful; it just mimics cancer b/c it causes a very suspicious looking calcification. It was a day surgery which I thought I would quickly recover from, but, as it turned out, now three weeks later, it still hurts. The combination of the above really kind of kept me in survival mode leaving no time to blog. Not that I needed all that as an excuse b/c sometimes I go longer for no good reason. This post, though, has been rolling around in my mind for literally 3 or 4 weeks.
I love working Fright Fest. It is my favorite job of the year. I begin to get excited about July knowing that as we head into fall we will begin planning for the season to begin. I have so much fun working Fright Fest. There are a lot of reason for this. I love Halloween. I love zombies and gore. I love the creativity I get to exhibit making different characters and wounds. Most of all, though, I love the kids and people I get to work with. I become very attached to them over the month of October. However, I realized coming home the second weekend of Fright Fest that I wasn't having nearly as much fun as I usually do. I began to think and wonder, "what is going on with me?" "Why is this just not as fun as it usually is?" I have had to work Fright Fest and another job before, so that wasn't it. As I thought about it and analyzed myself, it hit me what it was. My son, Stephen, had not been coming out. He was what was missing. He made Fright Fest fun for me. I didn't even realize how much joy he brought to the job. It wasn't until he wasn't around that I realized that he was a major part of what Fright Fest was to me. Fright Fest was, "our thing". Because I home schooled him for 2 and half years, he was basically with me every day around the clock for those almost 3 years. We would begin to get excited together and count down the months prior to Fright Fest starting. As it would get closer the excitement would build and even make it hard for him to focus on school. He would stop about every 5 minutes to ask about something or talk about some aspect of the upcoming season. Then it would start and we would begin planning and getting ready every Thursday. We would try to get ahead on school so that Fridays work would be light. We would get up on Friday morning and start packing and prepare to leave. We would drive together in the car, most of the time just him and me. We would listen to music really loud and drive the 45 minute drive into Arlington. The weekend would be exhausting and exhilarating. Friday, Saturday and Sunday I would do makeup and he would watch and wait for time to go to the haunted house to scare the patrons. He would scare from open to close with no break; he would often go without eating all day long and he did all this for free (no pay, just for the joy of doing it). He would come even if he was sick; he never wanted to miss a moment of it. So, it was Stephen; he made Fright Fest so much fun; his excitement was contagious. It was not the same without him.
Over the last few weeks being at work at Fright Fest and especially driving home, I would think about how much I was missing Stephen being with me. Everyone else missed him as well. He is such a fun and energetic force to be around. I began to realize that I was grieving over the loss of that experience. I would sometimes come close to crying as I realize that my little boy is very quickly growing up. He is becoming more independent and needing me less. This year it has really hit me that the time we get to spend with our children is so short. It is over before we know it. They will always be our children, but it changes. When your in the middle of the day to day living, day to day fun, day to day fighting, you think it will last forever. It did not occur to me last year to cling to those moments with Stephen; I did not take time to relish the energy and excitement that we had together. When it ended, I just thought, "we'll do this again next year." last year was really the last year for that. I never get to go back to that. I have the memories, but that season will never be again. People always told me to cherish those moments you get, b/c they are gone before you know it, but I didn't believe them. Now I get to be the one telling people who won't listen to beware b/c in a flash it is over. This year I went from spending every day with Stephen (more time than I thought I really wanted to spend with him) to him going back to school, not attending Fright Fest with me, and pretty much pulling away from me very quickly. He doesn't have much time for me and for the most part finds me to be pretty annoying. I just figured he would always be my little boy. I realize now that I did not stop nearly enough to "nuggle" with him when he asked. He won't even hug me right now. There has always been so many other things I needed to do when the kids were wanting my attention. Those things seem so stupid and unimportant now.
Now, I am absolutely stupid about getting his attention. If I have a moment that he will give me the time of day I will do almost anything from enduring wrestling and arm punching to listening to any and every song that he wants to share with me. If he stops to tell me something or says hey listen to this song mom, I am there b/c I know that those moments will continue to become less and less at least for the next couple years. His latest obsession is Kid Cudi so guess who is newly a fan of Kid Cudi. I don't always appreciate the language, but I do appreciate the opportunity to share something with my son. Stephen also introduced me to T.I. (talk about language). When I hear those songs, though, they remind me of the moments I get to share with Stephen.
Maybe what I really want to share with everyone is take the moments when you can get them. There are so many more when they are young, but remember they don't last forever. Grab up every moment they will give you. When they get older, you may have to share moments in a way different than you may want to or think about. I may not appreciate all the music Stephen appreciates, but if I just forbid it then he will listen to it elsewhere without me. At least if we are listening to it together, we get to share it and I have to opportunity to talk to him about it and maybe give him some perspective on what is being talked about. Just remember there comes a time that you don't get as much control over the moments; you can either try to be picky and miss moments or you can relax a bit and have more moments; they may be different moments than you would choose, but they will be moments none-the-less.
I love working Fright Fest. It is my favorite job of the year. I begin to get excited about July knowing that as we head into fall we will begin planning for the season to begin. I have so much fun working Fright Fest. There are a lot of reason for this. I love Halloween. I love zombies and gore. I love the creativity I get to exhibit making different characters and wounds. Most of all, though, I love the kids and people I get to work with. I become very attached to them over the month of October. However, I realized coming home the second weekend of Fright Fest that I wasn't having nearly as much fun as I usually do. I began to think and wonder, "what is going on with me?" "Why is this just not as fun as it usually is?" I have had to work Fright Fest and another job before, so that wasn't it. As I thought about it and analyzed myself, it hit me what it was. My son, Stephen, had not been coming out. He was what was missing. He made Fright Fest fun for me. I didn't even realize how much joy he brought to the job. It wasn't until he wasn't around that I realized that he was a major part of what Fright Fest was to me. Fright Fest was, "our thing". Because I home schooled him for 2 and half years, he was basically with me every day around the clock for those almost 3 years. We would begin to get excited together and count down the months prior to Fright Fest starting. As it would get closer the excitement would build and even make it hard for him to focus on school. He would stop about every 5 minutes to ask about something or talk about some aspect of the upcoming season. Then it would start and we would begin planning and getting ready every Thursday. We would try to get ahead on school so that Fridays work would be light. We would get up on Friday morning and start packing and prepare to leave. We would drive together in the car, most of the time just him and me. We would listen to music really loud and drive the 45 minute drive into Arlington. The weekend would be exhausting and exhilarating. Friday, Saturday and Sunday I would do makeup and he would watch and wait for time to go to the haunted house to scare the patrons. He would scare from open to close with no break; he would often go without eating all day long and he did all this for free (no pay, just for the joy of doing it). He would come even if he was sick; he never wanted to miss a moment of it. So, it was Stephen; he made Fright Fest so much fun; his excitement was contagious. It was not the same without him.
Over the last few weeks being at work at Fright Fest and especially driving home, I would think about how much I was missing Stephen being with me. Everyone else missed him as well. He is such a fun and energetic force to be around. I began to realize that I was grieving over the loss of that experience. I would sometimes come close to crying as I realize that my little boy is very quickly growing up. He is becoming more independent and needing me less. This year it has really hit me that the time we get to spend with our children is so short. It is over before we know it. They will always be our children, but it changes. When your in the middle of the day to day living, day to day fun, day to day fighting, you think it will last forever. It did not occur to me last year to cling to those moments with Stephen; I did not take time to relish the energy and excitement that we had together. When it ended, I just thought, "we'll do this again next year." last year was really the last year for that. I never get to go back to that. I have the memories, but that season will never be again. People always told me to cherish those moments you get, b/c they are gone before you know it, but I didn't believe them. Now I get to be the one telling people who won't listen to beware b/c in a flash it is over. This year I went from spending every day with Stephen (more time than I thought I really wanted to spend with him) to him going back to school, not attending Fright Fest with me, and pretty much pulling away from me very quickly. He doesn't have much time for me and for the most part finds me to be pretty annoying. I just figured he would always be my little boy. I realize now that I did not stop nearly enough to "nuggle" with him when he asked. He won't even hug me right now. There has always been so many other things I needed to do when the kids were wanting my attention. Those things seem so stupid and unimportant now.
Now, I am absolutely stupid about getting his attention. If I have a moment that he will give me the time of day I will do almost anything from enduring wrestling and arm punching to listening to any and every song that he wants to share with me. If he stops to tell me something or says hey listen to this song mom, I am there b/c I know that those moments will continue to become less and less at least for the next couple years. His latest obsession is Kid Cudi so guess who is newly a fan of Kid Cudi. I don't always appreciate the language, but I do appreciate the opportunity to share something with my son. Stephen also introduced me to T.I. (talk about language). When I hear those songs, though, they remind me of the moments I get to share with Stephen.
Maybe what I really want to share with everyone is take the moments when you can get them. There are so many more when they are young, but remember they don't last forever. Grab up every moment they will give you. When they get older, you may have to share moments in a way different than you may want to or think about. I may not appreciate all the music Stephen appreciates, but if I just forbid it then he will listen to it elsewhere without me. At least if we are listening to it together, we get to share it and I have to opportunity to talk to him about it and maybe give him some perspective on what is being talked about. Just remember there comes a time that you don't get as much control over the moments; you can either try to be picky and miss moments or you can relax a bit and have more moments; they may be different moments than you would choose, but they will be moments none-the-less.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Our Gifts are a grace from God
As anyone who knows me or follows my blog knows I grew up in a pretty hard situation. Growing up was not pleasant, easy, or fun. There was a lot of abuse, disappointment, and massive amounts of confusion. What I did come to understand at a very early age was that the more independent I was the better off I would be. I learned pretty early to take care of what needed to be taken care of myself and to have no need for anyone. I learned to be very responsible at a very early age and to even take care of many other people in my life including the adults who were "theoretically" supposed to care for me. My point in all of that is to say that one of the biggest struggles in my life is independence and a sense of self sufficiency.
On a side note, I can see that I have raised my oldest daughter to be the same way. She is such a tremendous blessing; she is beautiful and strong and very capable of doing what she needs to do and not really needing anyone to help her. The self sufficient part of me is so proud; then there is the part of me that is being restored and changed that knows I have done her a disservice. She will have to come to the realization that she is totally dependent on God and that we are all created to need people and be dependent. I can only repent of my sinful mistakes and pray that God will be gentle and gracious as He brings her to the realization of her need and true dependence.
Anyway, if something needs to be done, I just do it. If I don't really want to do something that needs to be done, I am very capable of making myself do it anyway. Many times I can and do push myself further than is healthy. I put unreasonable expectations on myself and make myself take care of things on my own. (To be fair, I am getting better about this as God heals me.)
The strength, independence and sufficiency in me that many people admire and think of in a positive manner is truly my Achilles heal, the weak spot in my armor. I have such a hard time asking for help or allowing people to come along side me because I don't want to be weak. The funny thing is that very tendency is the weakest spot in me. It's like the wondering sheep; I am "strong" and stand up, but it isolates me from the fold and allows the enemy to attack without having to contend with my fellow sheep. Now, I do in a sense realize my dependence on God, but that is not so hard for me because I trust Him. I don't, on the other hand so much trust people. That, though, also stems back to not truly trusting God. If I truly trust God, then I trust Him to put those people in my life that need to be there as well as trusting Him inside of them.
As I was reading this morning I came across a verse that really stuck out to me. I began to meditate upon it and ask God to speak to me. It struck the nerve of this very tendency in me.
I Corinthians 4:7
For who makes you differ from one another? And what do you have that you did not receive? Now if you did indeed receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?
I began to think of my attitude about where I am compared to where I started out. I have this attitude (which is a very prevalent American attitude) that I have picked myself up by my boot straps. I have said out of my mouth, "I started out this life in a gutter and have clawed and fought to get to where I am today." I have used this especially in dealing with other people who have not had to start out as far below ground zero as I did. "Don't compare my progress in life to someone who has started out in a loving family, who got to have enough resources to survive, go to college, etc." While there is some truth to that statement, I cannot even take credit for the progress. Coming from being a homeless drug addict, with nothing and eating my dinner out of dumpsters does give somewhat of a disadvantage over a supportive home, encouragement, a church background, college, etc. The problem in this whole line of thinking is that "I" have brought myself this far.
What do I have that I was not given? Do I have room to boast of my progress? God called me out of darkness. God has given me to grace to take each step I took out of the gutter and each step I continue to take away from that gutter. Not only did He give me the grace, but He took the steps inside me. Even having started out in the gutter is a gift that God has given me. He has allowed me to know Him in a very special way and to have a very deep sense of appreciation for what I have. That is a gift. When you have always had a bed to sleep in, you might not stop to consider what a blessing it is each day to wake up in a bed. I once owned 1 pair of underwear, 1 shirt, 1 pair of jeans, 1 skirt, 1 pair of Doc Martins, and a leather jacket. Man, am I grateful for my closet full of clothes. I only have to wear my underwear one time in between washings; I could even change them mid day if I should so feel inclined. That is a gift. Most people might not stop to be grateful for their underwear. I didn't teach myself to be grateful for these things. God, in His beautiful grace and mercy, allowed me to have the environment to foster that kind of gratitude. When asked how my day is, I will often respond with ,"It is a good day because I woke up with air in my lungs today." I really mean that. I am not saying I don't ever struggle with my attitude because I do at times. But, there were many days before Christ that I did not want to wake up; there were many days that I should not have woken up (I am sure there are more of those than I am even close to realizing). No one promises me tomorrow, so when I roll over in bed awake, it is a gift I have been given. It is another day to walk this earth and serve my Lord who created me, died to redeem me, kept me alive when I should have died over and over, called me out of darkness, and graciously leads me, heals me, changes me, and uses me each day.
My life mantra, the phrase that usually passed into my mind and heart at least once a day is...
Everything I have You gave me; everything I am You made me; Everything I ever hope to be is tied up in You!!
What do I have that I did not receive? How can I boast about anything? He has graciously given me everything. I did not carry myself out of the gutter. He carried me out of the gutter. I cannot take credit; I cannot boast. I have been dependent on Him for every breath I have taken since me first.
Psalm 71:6
From birth I have relied on you; you brought me forth from my mother's womb. I will ever praise you.
That was my scripture reading on Northumbria Community for the day. http://www.northumbriacommunity.org/
It goes right along with the theme for the day. God continues to faithfully chip away at that self sufficiency, independence and pride. He reminds me that I did not give myself anything; I daily borrow life from Him. I am so glad that He does not hold my pride and arrogance against me; He just gently reminds me, loves me, and graciously teaches me more about my dependence on Him. I have come light years from where I started out, but it has been Him bringing me, not me bringing myself.
Thank you, Lord Jesus, creator of the universe, redeemer of man kind and lover of my soul.
On a side note, I can see that I have raised my oldest daughter to be the same way. She is such a tremendous blessing; she is beautiful and strong and very capable of doing what she needs to do and not really needing anyone to help her. The self sufficient part of me is so proud; then there is the part of me that is being restored and changed that knows I have done her a disservice. She will have to come to the realization that she is totally dependent on God and that we are all created to need people and be dependent. I can only repent of my sinful mistakes and pray that God will be gentle and gracious as He brings her to the realization of her need and true dependence.
Anyway, if something needs to be done, I just do it. If I don't really want to do something that needs to be done, I am very capable of making myself do it anyway. Many times I can and do push myself further than is healthy. I put unreasonable expectations on myself and make myself take care of things on my own. (To be fair, I am getting better about this as God heals me.)
The strength, independence and sufficiency in me that many people admire and think of in a positive manner is truly my Achilles heal, the weak spot in my armor. I have such a hard time asking for help or allowing people to come along side me because I don't want to be weak. The funny thing is that very tendency is the weakest spot in me. It's like the wondering sheep; I am "strong" and stand up, but it isolates me from the fold and allows the enemy to attack without having to contend with my fellow sheep. Now, I do in a sense realize my dependence on God, but that is not so hard for me because I trust Him. I don't, on the other hand so much trust people. That, though, also stems back to not truly trusting God. If I truly trust God, then I trust Him to put those people in my life that need to be there as well as trusting Him inside of them.
As I was reading this morning I came across a verse that really stuck out to me. I began to meditate upon it and ask God to speak to me. It struck the nerve of this very tendency in me.
I Corinthians 4:7
For who makes you differ from one another? And what do you have that you did not receive? Now if you did indeed receive it, why do you boast as if you had not received it?
I began to think of my attitude about where I am compared to where I started out. I have this attitude (which is a very prevalent American attitude) that I have picked myself up by my boot straps. I have said out of my mouth, "I started out this life in a gutter and have clawed and fought to get to where I am today." I have used this especially in dealing with other people who have not had to start out as far below ground zero as I did. "Don't compare my progress in life to someone who has started out in a loving family, who got to have enough resources to survive, go to college, etc." While there is some truth to that statement, I cannot even take credit for the progress. Coming from being a homeless drug addict, with nothing and eating my dinner out of dumpsters does give somewhat of a disadvantage over a supportive home, encouragement, a church background, college, etc. The problem in this whole line of thinking is that "I" have brought myself this far.
What do I have that I was not given? Do I have room to boast of my progress? God called me out of darkness. God has given me to grace to take each step I took out of the gutter and each step I continue to take away from that gutter. Not only did He give me the grace, but He took the steps inside me. Even having started out in the gutter is a gift that God has given me. He has allowed me to know Him in a very special way and to have a very deep sense of appreciation for what I have. That is a gift. When you have always had a bed to sleep in, you might not stop to consider what a blessing it is each day to wake up in a bed. I once owned 1 pair of underwear, 1 shirt, 1 pair of jeans, 1 skirt, 1 pair of Doc Martins, and a leather jacket. Man, am I grateful for my closet full of clothes. I only have to wear my underwear one time in between washings; I could even change them mid day if I should so feel inclined. That is a gift. Most people might not stop to be grateful for their underwear. I didn't teach myself to be grateful for these things. God, in His beautiful grace and mercy, allowed me to have the environment to foster that kind of gratitude. When asked how my day is, I will often respond with ,"It is a good day because I woke up with air in my lungs today." I really mean that. I am not saying I don't ever struggle with my attitude because I do at times. But, there were many days before Christ that I did not want to wake up; there were many days that I should not have woken up (I am sure there are more of those than I am even close to realizing). No one promises me tomorrow, so when I roll over in bed awake, it is a gift I have been given. It is another day to walk this earth and serve my Lord who created me, died to redeem me, kept me alive when I should have died over and over, called me out of darkness, and graciously leads me, heals me, changes me, and uses me each day.
My life mantra, the phrase that usually passed into my mind and heart at least once a day is...
Everything I have You gave me; everything I am You made me; Everything I ever hope to be is tied up in You!!
What do I have that I did not receive? How can I boast about anything? He has graciously given me everything. I did not carry myself out of the gutter. He carried me out of the gutter. I cannot take credit; I cannot boast. I have been dependent on Him for every breath I have taken since me first.
Psalm 71:6
From birth I have relied on you; you brought me forth from my mother's womb. I will ever praise you.
That was my scripture reading on Northumbria Community for the day. http://www.northumbriacommunity.org/
It goes right along with the theme for the day. God continues to faithfully chip away at that self sufficiency, independence and pride. He reminds me that I did not give myself anything; I daily borrow life from Him. I am so glad that He does not hold my pride and arrogance against me; He just gently reminds me, loves me, and graciously teaches me more about my dependence on Him. I have come light years from where I started out, but it has been Him bringing me, not me bringing myself.
Thank you, Lord Jesus, creator of the universe, redeemer of man kind and lover of my soul.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Thoughts on Grace
I have so many thoughts on grace. My understanding of grace has changed and grown more than can even be measured over the years. For me, learning about grace has taken so long. I have a feeling, that stems from experience, that I will look back in ten years and see how little I really understood this mystery of grace today. I certainly had no understanding of grace in the years I first began to walk with Christ. I heard a lot about grace and I knew we were saved by grace, but I didn't really have any understanding of what that meant. When I look back to 15 years ago, 10 years ago, 5 years ago, 1 year ago, I can see how far I have come in my understanding of God's immeasurable, consuming grace.
This post is in response to an opportunity to share thoughts in grace that my friend and author, Hillary McFarland (Quivering Daughters Hope and Healing for the Daughters of patriarchy), posted on her blog, http://www.quiveringdaughters.com/.
To talk about my experience with grace, first I must give some history. Those who already follow my blog know much of this history, but for new explorers I will give the short version. For the more extensive version look back to http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-beginning-start-of-this-path-im-on.html; then look for part 2, 3, etc.
I began my life in a very dysfunctional and abusive house which was pretty non religious. My mother was clinically depressed and estranged from her mother. My grandfather (mom's father) had sexually abused all the children in the family from the time of my mother's childhood up to when we completely separated ourselves from the family when I was 15. There some strange religious undertones relating to the grandparents, but there is not enough time to breach that subject today. I began to do drugs pretty heavily at 13, spent many years locked up in rehabs and psychiatric hospitals, and repeatedly ran away, attempted suicide, and practiced self mutilation. I finally ended up living on the streets. At 19 years old I became pregnant; I continued to do drugs and attempted to procure an abortion (thankfully that did not work out). At about 4 months gestation, while very high on LSD and inhalants, I had the experience of going to hell. My mother had previously met Jesus and had been praying for me for several years. When the hell experience happened, I called her. I told her what had happened and asked her what I should do about it. I didn't think I believed in God, but, when I came back from "Hell", I had a sense that I did not ever want to go to that place again and that if I ever did find myself there again, I would not be allowed to leave again. God, being the amazing, gracious Father that He is, put the perfect answer in my mother's mouth. She said to me, "This is what I would say to do; pray and say, 'God if you are real, reveal yourself to me,' if He does then you will know, and if He doesn't then you haven't lost anything and no one even has to know that you prayed that prayer." So I secretly started praying that prayer. About 3 months later I called my mother and asked to go to a Friday night church service with her. She was very surprised, but of course, picked me up and took me. That night, as I stood in the service, I felt the presence of God, but I did not know what it was. I kept having tears flow down my face (which I kept wiping away in frustration). I met Jesus that night and was never the same. I had never felt loved; when I was told that Jesus loved me as I was enough to die for me, it transformed me forever.
What I did not realize was that as I began to learn about Jesus in the church I met Him in, I was taught about rules and striving to please Him. I very quickly learned that He did not love me as I was. I needed to clean up or at least put the ugly broken parts of me away so that I could make the church look good. I was a "trophy". "Look at what we did in her life." I loved Him so much and wanted to please Him however I could. I wanted to be clean and right for Him, but there were so many parts of me that were so broken. Broken is an understatement. There were parts of me that were crushed into finely ground powder. I didn't even know what wholeness was supposed to look like. I wanted to not struggle and walk in habitual sin. I wanted to be free. I was taught that if I just had enough faith, I wouldn't struggle with the pain and sin anymore. I prayed so hard for more faith. I tried to figure out the rules and to be good girl.
I have to interject that I have one of those really structured temperaments that was also conditioned toward a pretty severe Obsessive Compulsive tendency by my childhood environment. I still tend to put things into my life and brain in the framework of boxes and rules. So the legalistic environment fit into the way I tended to experience the world. I wanted rules about how long I was supposed to pray, how many chapters to read in my Bible; if the church doors were open I had to be there. There were a lot of do's and don't in my mind and world. I still tend to be one of those people that others say is "disciplined". What that really equates is my compulsive structure habits. I can get caught in what I call "loops" of behavior; it may be how long I have to work out, or eating habits, or binge drinking. Once I hit a "loop" it can be hard to find my way out of it. It gets easier the longer I walk with Christ and learn to walk in his "unforced rhythms of grace". There were lots of those "loops" in the beginning of my walk.
The Compulsive tendencies of my personality combined with the "charismatic legalism" that I was spiritually developing in did not equal much understanding of grace. I never felt good enough; I felt driven to pray more, read more, do more and compare myself to others. I would judge and condemn constantly. I had no concept of grace or mercy. I was not kind or loving, b/c I did not really feel loved. I had to hide the black sin that still strangled me like an orangutan on my back. Some of those deep wounds inside of me have just begun to stop bleeding 18 years after meeting Jesus. I was not in an environment in the first years that I could be honest about the devastation and brokenness inside of me so that I could have help baring those burdens and find healing.
My first real brush with the grace of God came out of a pretty big situation of sin.
The church I was in did not believe in dating; we practiced courtship. The courtship, though, really needed "elder approval" to be smiled upon. I had learned that if I rebelled against church leadership, i was rebelling against God b/c He had put them in authority over me. I was supposed to follow what the leadership of the church said, "the Lord wanted." Prophecy was a means of controlling those who would allow themselves to be controlled (my mother and I were very much willing to be controlled). I was engaged to a young man when I had been walking with God about 2 years. We were very careful not to be alone (in the beginning at least). We did not even kiss one another. He was not, however, one that would be controlled. He had many questions about the way the church was being run and the control I was allowing them to have over me. We met in the church through a singles group. He started attending the church, but did not buy into many aspects of the church. This led to many arguments between us, b/c I just wanted him to be "submissive" to the leadership. I was afraid he and I would fall out of favor with God if he wouldn't submit. All of this finally culminated in one of the elders telling me that God said I had to break up the relationship (this was 9 months into courtship and 3 months before the wedding was to be). This broke my heart. I was told, though, that "the heart was deceitfully wicked above all things" and "that he would be a weight to me and would keep me from fulfilling the call of God on my life". When it was presented to me that way, I felt like I had no choice but to submit. I loved Jesus with all my heart and would not choose a man over my Savior. I cried every day for 6 months; sometimes I cried to the point of almost throwing up. I would beg God to help me not love Larry. I wanted to obey God, but it hurt so bad and I could not stop loving him. He was my best friend. He loved me even though he knew about all of the ugly scarred devastated parts of me. I had never loved anyone or been loved by anyone the way he loved me. It ripped both of our hearts out.
After six months of grieving and trying to forget, in a moment of weakness, I went back to him. Being with around him was like being home. At that point, we crossed to line of being involved physically. In the three days we were back together, I conceived my son. Then I was drawn back into the church where I was told to cut ties with him. When I realized, 6 weeks later, that I was pregnant, I was told that God still did not want me to marry him. I also stood before the church to confess my sin. I felt so ashamed; I had let the church down; God was disappointed in me.
As a result, of my perception of God, I thought that God was going to punish me. I was so excited to be pregnant. I wanted another baby. Certain leaders in the church tried to pressure me to put the baby up for adoption and to go as far as lying to Larry about losing the baby so I could leave for the rest of my pregnancy and give the baby up with his permission. I refused. B/c of my sin and my refusal to cave to the pressure to give up the baby, I waited daily to lose the baby. I thought that was how God was going to punish me for me sin of fornication. I would go into the bathroom every time expecting to see signs of miscarriage. I really thought that God allowed me to get pregnant so He could take the baby away to hurt me and punish me. I think I was pretty detached from the baby for most of my pregnancy b/c I was waiting to have him taken away from me. It wasn't until I held him in my arms that I believed that God wasn't going to take him away from me. Through the pregnancy and birth God showed me about grace. As I held him in my arms it was as if God whispered in my ear, "look I gave this treasure to you in spite of your choice". He didn't give me the baby so He could take it away from me. He gave me the pregnancy to show me His grace and mercy. He blessed me with an amazing gift in spite of my sin. That was the beginning of seeing God loves me just b/c He chooses to. I cannot get Him to love me any more or any less. He loves me apart from my behavior and in spite of my wicked heart. B/c He first loved me, I can love Him. That baby is now my amazing and handsome 14 year old son, Stephen. Stephen Isaac (meaning crowned with laughter) is my baby of grace. God used him to teach me about His amazing grace. God would also used baby Stephen to keep me connected to the young man who would eventually ( 3 or so years later) become my husband in spite of the manipulation of the church. Today, September 2, 2010, we celebrated 11 years of beautiful marriage. He is still my best friend and I love him more today than the day I married him. We have an amazing commitment and resilience to our marriage b/c of the path we had to walk to end up together. There are more details on how we ended up together at these posts http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-1.html , http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-2.html , http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-3.html
I have so many more thoughts on grace, but I have taken up enough time today. I will share more another time. I just wanted to start with the first major brush with grace in my walk.
This post is in response to an opportunity to share thoughts in grace that my friend and author, Hillary McFarland (Quivering Daughters Hope and Healing for the Daughters of patriarchy), posted on her blog, http://www.quiveringdaughters.com/.
To talk about my experience with grace, first I must give some history. Those who already follow my blog know much of this history, but for new explorers I will give the short version. For the more extensive version look back to http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-beginning-start-of-this-path-im-on.html; then look for part 2, 3, etc.
I began my life in a very dysfunctional and abusive house which was pretty non religious. My mother was clinically depressed and estranged from her mother. My grandfather (mom's father) had sexually abused all the children in the family from the time of my mother's childhood up to when we completely separated ourselves from the family when I was 15. There some strange religious undertones relating to the grandparents, but there is not enough time to breach that subject today. I began to do drugs pretty heavily at 13, spent many years locked up in rehabs and psychiatric hospitals, and repeatedly ran away, attempted suicide, and practiced self mutilation. I finally ended up living on the streets. At 19 years old I became pregnant; I continued to do drugs and attempted to procure an abortion (thankfully that did not work out). At about 4 months gestation, while very high on LSD and inhalants, I had the experience of going to hell. My mother had previously met Jesus and had been praying for me for several years. When the hell experience happened, I called her. I told her what had happened and asked her what I should do about it. I didn't think I believed in God, but, when I came back from "Hell", I had a sense that I did not ever want to go to that place again and that if I ever did find myself there again, I would not be allowed to leave again. God, being the amazing, gracious Father that He is, put the perfect answer in my mother's mouth. She said to me, "This is what I would say to do; pray and say, 'God if you are real, reveal yourself to me,' if He does then you will know, and if He doesn't then you haven't lost anything and no one even has to know that you prayed that prayer." So I secretly started praying that prayer. About 3 months later I called my mother and asked to go to a Friday night church service with her. She was very surprised, but of course, picked me up and took me. That night, as I stood in the service, I felt the presence of God, but I did not know what it was. I kept having tears flow down my face (which I kept wiping away in frustration). I met Jesus that night and was never the same. I had never felt loved; when I was told that Jesus loved me as I was enough to die for me, it transformed me forever.
What I did not realize was that as I began to learn about Jesus in the church I met Him in, I was taught about rules and striving to please Him. I very quickly learned that He did not love me as I was. I needed to clean up or at least put the ugly broken parts of me away so that I could make the church look good. I was a "trophy". "Look at what we did in her life." I loved Him so much and wanted to please Him however I could. I wanted to be clean and right for Him, but there were so many parts of me that were so broken. Broken is an understatement. There were parts of me that were crushed into finely ground powder. I didn't even know what wholeness was supposed to look like. I wanted to not struggle and walk in habitual sin. I wanted to be free. I was taught that if I just had enough faith, I wouldn't struggle with the pain and sin anymore. I prayed so hard for more faith. I tried to figure out the rules and to be good girl.
I have to interject that I have one of those really structured temperaments that was also conditioned toward a pretty severe Obsessive Compulsive tendency by my childhood environment. I still tend to put things into my life and brain in the framework of boxes and rules. So the legalistic environment fit into the way I tended to experience the world. I wanted rules about how long I was supposed to pray, how many chapters to read in my Bible; if the church doors were open I had to be there. There were a lot of do's and don't in my mind and world. I still tend to be one of those people that others say is "disciplined". What that really equates is my compulsive structure habits. I can get caught in what I call "loops" of behavior; it may be how long I have to work out, or eating habits, or binge drinking. Once I hit a "loop" it can be hard to find my way out of it. It gets easier the longer I walk with Christ and learn to walk in his "unforced rhythms of grace". There were lots of those "loops" in the beginning of my walk.
The Compulsive tendencies of my personality combined with the "charismatic legalism" that I was spiritually developing in did not equal much understanding of grace. I never felt good enough; I felt driven to pray more, read more, do more and compare myself to others. I would judge and condemn constantly. I had no concept of grace or mercy. I was not kind or loving, b/c I did not really feel loved. I had to hide the black sin that still strangled me like an orangutan on my back. Some of those deep wounds inside of me have just begun to stop bleeding 18 years after meeting Jesus. I was not in an environment in the first years that I could be honest about the devastation and brokenness inside of me so that I could have help baring those burdens and find healing.
My first real brush with the grace of God came out of a pretty big situation of sin.
The church I was in did not believe in dating; we practiced courtship. The courtship, though, really needed "elder approval" to be smiled upon. I had learned that if I rebelled against church leadership, i was rebelling against God b/c He had put them in authority over me. I was supposed to follow what the leadership of the church said, "the Lord wanted." Prophecy was a means of controlling those who would allow themselves to be controlled (my mother and I were very much willing to be controlled). I was engaged to a young man when I had been walking with God about 2 years. We were very careful not to be alone (in the beginning at least). We did not even kiss one another. He was not, however, one that would be controlled. He had many questions about the way the church was being run and the control I was allowing them to have over me. We met in the church through a singles group. He started attending the church, but did not buy into many aspects of the church. This led to many arguments between us, b/c I just wanted him to be "submissive" to the leadership. I was afraid he and I would fall out of favor with God if he wouldn't submit. All of this finally culminated in one of the elders telling me that God said I had to break up the relationship (this was 9 months into courtship and 3 months before the wedding was to be). This broke my heart. I was told, though, that "the heart was deceitfully wicked above all things" and "that he would be a weight to me and would keep me from fulfilling the call of God on my life". When it was presented to me that way, I felt like I had no choice but to submit. I loved Jesus with all my heart and would not choose a man over my Savior. I cried every day for 6 months; sometimes I cried to the point of almost throwing up. I would beg God to help me not love Larry. I wanted to obey God, but it hurt so bad and I could not stop loving him. He was my best friend. He loved me even though he knew about all of the ugly scarred devastated parts of me. I had never loved anyone or been loved by anyone the way he loved me. It ripped both of our hearts out.
After six months of grieving and trying to forget, in a moment of weakness, I went back to him. Being with around him was like being home. At that point, we crossed to line of being involved physically. In the three days we were back together, I conceived my son. Then I was drawn back into the church where I was told to cut ties with him. When I realized, 6 weeks later, that I was pregnant, I was told that God still did not want me to marry him. I also stood before the church to confess my sin. I felt so ashamed; I had let the church down; God was disappointed in me.
As a result, of my perception of God, I thought that God was going to punish me. I was so excited to be pregnant. I wanted another baby. Certain leaders in the church tried to pressure me to put the baby up for adoption and to go as far as lying to Larry about losing the baby so I could leave for the rest of my pregnancy and give the baby up with his permission. I refused. B/c of my sin and my refusal to cave to the pressure to give up the baby, I waited daily to lose the baby. I thought that was how God was going to punish me for me sin of fornication. I would go into the bathroom every time expecting to see signs of miscarriage. I really thought that God allowed me to get pregnant so He could take the baby away to hurt me and punish me. I think I was pretty detached from the baby for most of my pregnancy b/c I was waiting to have him taken away from me. It wasn't until I held him in my arms that I believed that God wasn't going to take him away from me. Through the pregnancy and birth God showed me about grace. As I held him in my arms it was as if God whispered in my ear, "look I gave this treasure to you in spite of your choice". He didn't give me the baby so He could take it away from me. He gave me the pregnancy to show me His grace and mercy. He blessed me with an amazing gift in spite of my sin. That was the beginning of seeing God loves me just b/c He chooses to. I cannot get Him to love me any more or any less. He loves me apart from my behavior and in spite of my wicked heart. B/c He first loved me, I can love Him. That baby is now my amazing and handsome 14 year old son, Stephen. Stephen Isaac (meaning crowned with laughter) is my baby of grace. God used him to teach me about His amazing grace. God would also used baby Stephen to keep me connected to the young man who would eventually ( 3 or so years later) become my husband in spite of the manipulation of the church. Today, September 2, 2010, we celebrated 11 years of beautiful marriage. He is still my best friend and I love him more today than the day I married him. We have an amazing commitment and resilience to our marriage b/c of the path we had to walk to end up together. There are more details on how we ended up together at these posts http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-1.html , http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-2.html , http://searchingforaplacetobelong.blogspot.com/2009/12/love-story-part-3.html
I have so many more thoughts on grace, but I have taken up enough time today. I will share more another time. I just wanted to start with the first major brush with grace in my walk.
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