Five Minute Friday: Story

We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST every Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag #FMFParty (short for Five Minute Friday party). In fact, starting at around 10pm EST on Thursday you’ll find a lot of writers hanging out and chatting on Twitter with this hashtag.

No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.

Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

- See more at: http://lisajobaker.com/2013/08/five-minute-friday-story/#comment-114442


Start:

Story is a funny thing; for me, everything has a story.  Every situation is a narrative.  I love to hear people's stories.  I love to hear where they have come from; what makes them tick.  I love to pick into peoples lives and put together the puzzles which explains why they are how they are.

I think often times that is what is missing in so much of todays society.  No body seems to want to stop and understand one another.  No one seems to want to investigate the mystery of who those we encounter are.

Sometimes it takes work.  Sometimes people don't want to let you in.  You have to creep about like a little spider outside the house of who they are and find a crack.  You ask questions, talk about safe things, push buttons until you find the one that lights up their eyes.  Once the light goes on in the house, then it takes just a little more effort to get them to open the door.

It's like a game to me.  I like to see how long it takes to get someone to open up and let me inside.  My husband says he loves to watch me go to work, picking and poking, joking and commenting until I get the door open.  Someone may not want to let me inside, but it is a gift the Lord has given me to be able to untangle the barbed wire that keeps everyone else out and get inside.

Everyone has a story to tell, and each of them are unique and beautiful and gives us another piece of the puzzle of who God is and what He is about on this earth and how He is bringing the Kingdom of Heaven to earth.

Everyone has a story to tell.  Will you stop and listen?  Will you be intentional and genuine and interested to get to the story even if it takes some effort, or will you stay consumed with yourself and miss the story God wants to tell you through the people you encounter today.

Five Minute Friday: See

So, here’s the skinny: I’ve been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.

No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation. Just painting with words. Finger-painting even.

So now on Fridays over here a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

Your words. This shared feast.

A Five Minute Writing Challenge <—click to tweet this!

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking
2. Link back here and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..

OK, are you ready? Please give me your best five minutes on:

::

See…

Start

See

What do I see?

Well, I guess it depends on what spectacles I choose to put on today.

Does my vision depend on what my eyes see or what my heart sees?  Do I walk by faith or by sight?

Do I see through the lenses of what the world values and tells me how to interpret, or do I see through the lenses of eternity?  Do I see from God's perspective?  or at least try and see what He wants me to see?

I can look at the situations I encounter each day as road blocks, or opportunities to take a path I would not have otherwise chosen.

I can look at the people I encounter as annoyances or as people the Lord has sent me to love and serve. I can choose to make this moment about me or learn to forget about me.

I love the part of the prayer of Saint Francis of Assisi: 

Lord grant that I might seek to comfort rather than be comforted, to love than to be loved, to understand than to be understood.

Stop

Putting away lying

I flipped open my bible to Ephesians and began to read. It always amazes me that I can choose what I think is a random passage to read and God will illuminate and speak so clearly to me. I know it shouldn't surprise me by now, but it still evokes a sense of awe in me. As I read I came to Ephesians 4:25 " Therefore putting away lying, "Let each of you speak truth with his neighbor," for we are members of one another. It really struck me so I stopped and began to ponder.

I have read this book of the Bible a thousand times, and have read this verse over and over, but two things struck me about it. Every other time I have read this verse I have really concentrated on the not lying to one another part. I really make every effort to tell the truth and not shade it or lie. When I realize that I have misrepresented something I am pretty quick to go back, admit what I have done and ask for forgiveness. My children used to really make fun of the fact that mom wouldn't even tell a white lie. I have gotten the attitude at times from people that this is a fault my refusal to tell any type of lie. I feel like it is what God wants me to do. I find sometimes that b/c I am so careful to tell the truth I also generally assume that people are sincerely telling me the truth. Then I am really surprised and hurt when I find out someone has lied to me.

Anyway, enough about that. What I had never really pondered was the last half of the verse. For we are members of one another. I know that the body of Christ is considered members of one another, but I didn't read don't lie to fellow believers b/c we are members of one another, it read don't lie to your neighbor. So I went on a search to see if anyone else had the same thought process that I had. Was this verse saying that we are all in fact members of one another?

I found a lot of reverences to the Body of Christ, but I did also find those that pointed to all of humanity being members of one another. We are, as humans, part of the same race of created beings. We all came from the same original set of parents: Adam and Eve. What we do and say to one another effects us all. So how does that effect how we should interact with everyone. We are told not to lie to anyone. Do we misrepresent? Do we exaggerate? Do we take advantage of people's trust? Do we excuse not being completely honest and transparent in our dealings with people outside of the church, justifying that they are not a part of the family of God? But aren't they they family of God? Isn't every human being created in the image of God? Whether they choose to glorify Him or not, each and every person is an image bearer. Is there ever a reason to deceive anyone? What if we made a point to be totally truthful at all time not matter the cost?

Then Romans 13:10 came to my mind. "Love does no harm to a neighbor; therefore love is the fulfillment of the law." Deceiving anyone is harming them. If we are out for the good of everyone else, even over ourselves we have no need to lie or harm.

This lead me to the following list of verses about how to treat people:

Galatians 6:10

¹⁰ So then, ^(A)as we have opportunity, let us ^(B)do good to everyone, and especially to those who are ^(C)of the household of faith.

Proverbs 3:27

English Standard Version (ESV)

^{27 (A)}Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due,^[a]
when it is in your power to do it.

1 Thessalonians 5:15

English Standard Version (ESV)

¹⁵ See that ^(A)no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always ^(B)seek to do good to one another and to everyone.

Romans 12:10

English Standard Version (ESV)

^{10 (A)}Love one another with brotherly affection. ^(B)Outdo one another in showing honor.

Philippians 2:3

English Standard Version (ESV)

³ Do nothing from ^(A)selfish ambition or ^(B)conceit, but in ^(C)humility count others more significant than yourselves.

1 Peter 5:5-6

English Standard Version (ESV)

⁵ Likewise, you who are younger, be subject to the elders. ^(A)Clothe yourselves, all of you, with humility toward one another, for ^(B)“God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”

1 Peter 4:9

English Standard Version (ESV)

^{9 (A)}Show hospitality to one another without grumbling

Galatians 6:2

English Standard Version (ESV)

^{2 (A)}Bear one another's burdens, and ^(B)so fulfill ^(C)the law of Christ.

1 Thessalonians 5:11

English Standard Version (ESV)

¹¹ Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing.

Ephesians 4:32

English Standard Version (ESV)

^{32 (A)}Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, ^(B)forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

Romans 12:16

English Standard Version (ESV)

^{16 (A)}Live in harmony with one another. ^(B)Do not be haughty, but associate with the lowly.^{[a] (C)}Never be wise in your own sight.

John 13:34-35

English Standard Version (ESV)

^{34 (A)}A new commandment ^(B)I give to you, ^(C)that you love one another: ^(D)just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. ^{35 (E)}By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

I John 3:11

1 For ^(A)this is the message that you have heard from the beginning, ^(B)that we should love one another.

1 John 4:12

English Standard Version (ESV)

^{12 (A)}No one has ever seen God; if we love one another, God abides in us and ^(B)his love is perfected in us.

1 Peter 4:8

English Standard Version (ESV)

⁸ Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since ^(A)love covers a multitude of sins.


I know that is a long list of scriptures. I guess the point I wanted to make is that we are to love everyone and put their needs above ours. We are to prefer them over ourselves and refuse to do any harm to anyone. That includes deceiving, gossiping, ignoring or looking down upon. Galatians says to do good to everyone and especially the household of faith, but lets not rush into the household of faith part ignoring the do good to EVERYONE. Just like we wouldn't intentionally harm our own bodies, since everyone is a member of everyone, we are to care for, bless, nourish, cherish and do no harm to anyone.

Very quickly the other things that stuck out to me was that the "Let each of you speak truth with his neighbor," in the verse is a quote b/c in the verse it is in parenthesis. So I went on a search for where is was being quoted from. I found it in Zechariah 8:16 "There are these things which you should do: speak the truth to one another; judge with truth and judgement for peace in your gates."

How much peace would there be internally and relationally if we simply always strive to tell the truth and do no harm to our neighbor no matter the cost to us or what we might have to let go of gaining for ourselves.

The nagging Question in my mind

There is a haunting question that constantly rattles around in my head. It's not a small thing that just pops up every so often. At times it can become an obsession to me. It is a somber melody that plays at the back of everything I do. It plays when I rise in the morning and pray. It sweeps into my days as I live and attempt to give thanks to God each day. It plays when I meditate on His goodness and all that He has done for me and given me. It become a roar as I read about struggle and lack and hardship for others all over the world.

Job 1:9-11

⁹Then Satan answered the LORD and said, "Does Job fear God for no reason? ¹⁰Have you not put^(A) a hedge around him and his house and all that he has, on every side? You have^(B) blessed the work of his hands, and his possessions have increased in the land. ¹¹But^(C) stretch out your hand and^(D) touch all that he has, and he will^(E) curse you^(F) to your face."

This passage is always at the back of my mind. It is not b/c I am afraid that God will give me Job's treatment. It isn't a question of justice or God's right to do such. It isn't even about understanding why.

It is this thought. Do I love and serve God because He has blessed me beyond measure? Do I delight in His will and grace because in my life His will is easy and His grace is pleasant?

You see I am sooooooo blessed. He has given me so much. He took that broken, hateful, confused, lost little punk girl off the streets and over the last 19 years has dramatically changed me. He has healed me of more than I will ever even really comprehend. And far more than most of the people I know can begin to grasp. He has untangled layer upon layer upon layer of lies, confusion, programming, fears, insecurity, self loathing, anger, hopelessness, abuse, addiction. I could go on for the rest of the year and not run out of things that He has lovingly stripped me of and removed. He has taken a high school drop out and given her a degree, several professional licenses and the opportunity to now become a nurse. He took the fatherless, extended family-less girl who felt like an orphan and given her an amazing family with her in-laws who who loves and accepts the small broken family that she has. He gave me the love of the most amazing husband ever created. He is kind, gentle, faithful, patient, committed, calm in the storm, and ever devoted to our family. He took a broken womb which should have never been able to conceive and brought forth 3 beautiful, amazing children. He has healed me so that I could mother them without continuing the cycle of abuse. I have a house, a job, food, clothes. I can read, and go to school and even be given money from the government so I can attend school. I have never had to hold a child who is starving to death and wonder how I was going to feed it. I don't have AIDS, hepatitis, TB or any of the other diseases that my drug addiction would very well have given me. Nor do I have a child who is sick because I gave them one of those diseases. We have two cars, 3 sewing machines, 2 refrigerators, a microwave, an expensive bike, a stove to cook on, heat, hot running water, AC in the summer, I have legs, eyes, ears, lungs that work, a heart that beats, a brain that sends nerve signals down my spinal cord to all my extremities. God made me creative and intelligent, driven and passionate.

I think I have made my point. I am no where near finished. I could keep going on and on and on. But I think everyone gets it.

He has been so good to me. I am blessed beyond measure and every day the blessings are multiplied. Every day He makes me more like Himself. Everyday, He faithfully meets me in my bathtub, listens to my prayers, and speaks life, hope, and unspeakable delight and joy into my heart. How could I not rejoice in His will and grace? What choice do I have but to be overwhelmed and brought to me knees before His grace and glory. He loves me, protects me and fills me with Himself. I contain all the riches of heaven. He is everything I need and more than enough. He is my greatest good, my highest joy.

So back to my question. Do I love Him because of His goodness, blessing and protection? What if everything I love was removed? What if life became harder for me? What if His grace became a hard grace as opposed to this beautiful grace I know that is blessing beyond all measure? Would I still love Him? Would I still serve Him with all of my being? Would I still trust and delight in His will no matter what it looks like?

Or is the grace I know cheap grace? Grace is so easy to believe in and delight in when it is what you want and how you want and free of tests and trials. What if grace suddenly became hard grace for me? Would I still be hopelessly in love with Him? Would I continue to rejoice in Him and attempt to shun evil? or, if the hedge was taken away and I lost it all, would I curse God to His face?

This is the haunting question always at the back of my mind. It is a melody that ebbs and flows and moves through me.

Back in the saddle again

It's been about six months since I wrote on my blog. It has been such a busy and crazy few months. I would like to start writing again and record this journey toward the goal God has put in my heart. Then as I go to school to be a nurse practitioner and eventually work to provide medical care for the desperately poor in Ethiopia, this blog can serve as a place to deposit the lessons, thoughts, and hopes along to way.

In an effort to try and keep myself on track writing I am committing to myself to write at least one day a week, and to keep myself from saying I am too busy I will commit to set a timer for an hour one day a week and write then post what I wrote. If I have other time to post then I can be free to post more, but this way at least one day a week I am committed to write and not use the excuse that I don't have time. I can set aside at least an hour and guard that time as time that I have committed to share the journey.

For today, here is what has been rattling around in my heart. It has been such a hard month for me due to overburdening myself with commitment. Working at Starbucks, Six Flags, and going to school have been more than I really thought it would be. Going back to school has not been easy on me. There have been times I have thought to myself, "what am I doing?" The work hasn't been too bad; school comes pretty easy for me. Statistics has been pretty challenging, but again not too bad. What has been hard for me is losing free time to do the things I love. I miss reading. I have traded reading books that shape my soul and make me more like Jesus for books on Biology and Statistics. Now, don't get me wrong, I love Biology and enjoy learning about it tremendously. I just miss being able to read other books. I miss having time to sit and journal my thoughts and meditate on the Word listening to what the Lord would say to me with no real pressure to hurry and cut it short; just enjoying the leisure of being with Him and my journal. I really miss being able to be creative; I miss sewing and painting and the process of seeing an expression come to life.

It seems like the pressure is always there that something needs to be done. Sometimes I would like to go back to just going to work at Starbucks and coming home to do whatever I felt like doing that day (cleaning, cooking, creating, etc.). Part of me thinks this is too hard; this a lot to undertake. Life was so much simpler when I wasn't in school trying to become a nurse. The thought of this pressure and limit on my time for the next 8 years makes me cringe somewhat. This is a long journey I am on; this is a pressured and challenging journey I am on. The rhythm of my life has changed dramatically.

I pray and ask God to help me be faithful and glorify Him while I am on this journey. I pray for His grace to carry me through. I pray for His help to understand and learn the concepts. I pray for Him to help me not get to focused on the end destination that I forget to make the most of the journey. I pray and ask Him are you sure that this is what you want me to do? Why not just go to Ethiopia and love the orphans now? Why are you asking me to do this long process before I get to go? You see I have no problem leaving everything I have here, moving my family and serving Him by serving them. I would pack up tomorrow if He would say, "Go now." The problem is that He has asked me to do this other thing first. He has asked me to give up my free time and become a nurse, so I can do more than just love on them. He has asked a little more of me. He wants me on His terms, His way, not mine.

So as I have struggled and basically tread water for the last month, wondering what in the world possessed me to say yes, He sent me a reminder as to why.

I woke up early last Sunday morning before time to get ready for the day at Six Flags and decided to peruse the blogs I follow (another area that has suffered at the hands of school; I have not been able to keep up with the blogs I normally read faithfully- there are quite a few.). I came across this one and God reminded me why He asked me to do this. He helped me remember what this was all about. If I was just trying to get a new career so I could make more money and we could live more comfortably, I don't think I would be able to keep going. I think it would be easy to just stick to the status quo. The way life was before He asked me to be a nurse and I said yes, was so much easier and so much less complicated. Because, however, this is not about a new job and more money, giving up is not so easy and not really an option. Because my Father gave me a brain that learns so easy and a drive that helps me go places that others might not want to push themselves to go and ordained for me to live in a country where school is an overabundant option, He in turn asks me to take all those privileges and gifts and use them to obey Him and say yes. He sent me this blog to break my heart yet again and remind me that I am on this journey b/c there are children and mothers who desperately need for me to say yes and finish this part of the journey so I can give them medical so they can live, have health and become what He has called them to become. That is the part of this beautiful tapestry of the Kingdom of God that He has asked me play. Read the post below and maybe you can see where I am going and why; and maybe, just maybe, He will use it to ask you to play a part in this beautiful tapestry. Your part may well be difficult too, but the rewards He is offering far outweigh the cost.

http://servinghischildreninuganda.blogspot.com/2011/10/patricia.html

The Ugly Side of Grace

I haven't written in so long that I am not sure that anyone will even read this. I have been writing a lot in my journal which I think has lead to me not blogging at all. I need to find some kind of balance between the two, or I need to learn to pick out of the journal and blog about some of it. Today, though, I need to pour out some junk. I just feel like putting on the paper is not enough.

There is a great deal of angst inside of me. This angst has been rolling around in me for months, every since I found out that my brother had relapsed. So, I have plugged Seether into my ears and I am going to type until I feel like I have let it all out. I don't know how long it will be or what all I have to say. Hopefully, there is a bigger reason for me to type this than just to purge it out.

Just a little back ground. My brother has battled a crack addiction for the last 10 years. He has had good seasons and really bad seasons. Things have gotten really dark at times and at other times things were going so good that we thought the dark seasons were over. He ended up in jail a few years back which led to a long stretch of good with a couple minor relapses. He had a really great couple of years. There were some small rough spots, but the general direction was forward and up. He had a really great job that he absolutely loved; he had unbelievable favor with the bosses. He had his own apartment and was paying his bills, saving and giving a lot. He had really built up a great library of books and bible study tools, and was studying and learning a lot. He had even began to take responsibility for a lot of past mistakes, even making amends financially to people he had stolen from. He was beginning to admit the truth about a long list of lies he had lived by. During this last year we had really began to get close and be like a brother and sister instead of enemies. I spoke to him almost daily on the phone. He was at my house weekly. We shared what we were studying and struggling with. We had really moved into having a close relationship. I wasn't distant or annoyed by him anymore.

About 2 and half months ago, things came unraveled. They started to unravel slightly, but I just kept praying for him and believed that things were going to head back in the right direction. To my horror things did not go back; they continued to unravel very quickly and deeply. I had no idea that things were going to completely come unraveled. I was totally caught off guard b/c I really thought that we had gotten far enough down the road of recovery and restoration that he wouldn't turn back. The savings went, then the job went; slowly he sold all of his belongings off; then the apartment went. He stole from my mom out of my house; he totaled his girl's car; he was held captive and beaten by drug dealers. He is now homeless and had lost everything. He is sleeping in bus stations and behind grocery stores. I even found a rehab for him, which he left after just a couple days.

I have gone through all kinds of different stages during the last couple months. At first, I was just very angry. I felt angry that he would choose this path again. I felt totally shocked; I really can't understand why he went back to that. I have been hopeful, believing that he would grab a hold of the sides of the pit and stop the descent. I have been overwhelmed with fear that he would die. I have grieved the loss of our close friendship and despaired that it would be once again close. And I have cried and cried and cried. This has hurt so much worse this time than it ever has before. In the past, I could just write him off and feel nothing toward his stupid decisions. We weren't close. Now, I cannot do that. My heart is ripped in half. Sometimes, I walk around with a lump in my throat for days and it feels like the grief and fear are going to choke me. Then someone strikes the right nerve and the tears come hard and deep and cleansing. Sometimes I feel like my guts are hanging out dragging behind me. I literally have a stomach ache b/c the grief is too much for me to take.

He showed up at my house yesterday. My first gut response was anger. I was angry that he was at my door like that and I knew that he had no where to go and would be asking for money. I also knew that I couldn't let him in b/c then he wouldn't leave and would probably steal from my mother; he always steals from her if given the chance (when he is on crack that is). I didn't speak to him or go out. I sent my husband out to deal with him. I just felt angry and couldn't go talk to him. I didn't realize until this morning that the anger was only a cover for what I was really feeling. It is how I protect myself from the torrent that is really inside of me. He ended up going to Starbucks where there are many people who know and love him. They talked to him and fed him and did what they could for him. As I pulled into my Starbucks this morning to get my coffee and saw those who had seen him the day before, the torrent was released. I had seen a glimpse of him through the slit in the blinds that I looked through to see who was at the door. I cannot get the image out of my mind. My precious D, my beloved brother, emaciated, all his belongings on his back, defeated, overwhelmed, hot, tired, feeling completely alone and hopeless. This morning, as I pulled up and saw my fellow barista and lover of D, the look on her face broke me. The grief bubbled up out of me threatening to break into a tsunami totally out of control. I choked in back, though. " I can't talk about him, right now," I said moving passed them. I walked in to see my boss, also one who loves D fiercely; the cracks in the dam holding back the flood began to leak; the tears began to spill, but with some control. Then the next face, lover of D, approached knowing the my heart was broken and threatening to give way; the sweet friend who had spent the day before at the Starbucks with D, feeding him, trying to reason with him. As she hugged me, the dam broke; I gave way to the sobs and lost control. My heart split open lying on the floor for all to see. We had to walk out of the store b/c the dam had given way and control was no longer possible.

I feel so sad and so confused. Why go back? Why won't you do something, Lord? I know what you did for me. I didn't want to quit drinking. I told you that you were going to have to change my heart and make me want to stop- that I would keep drinking until you took it away. And then one day, you took it. One day, you made me want to be free and I took you hand; you have led me down this path of sobriety from alcohol for the last 2 years. You have kept me from falling when I was tempted and given me the desire to let you change my heart. It has nothing to do with me. You did that for me, Lord. Why won't you do that for D? Why won't you take it away and make him want you more than he wants the crack. When will it end? Surely, you won't let him die this way. I have cried and prayed and cried some more.

I know you are good, Lord. I know you love him immeasurable more than I could ever love him. I know that you are in control of the universe and that you have a plan. I know that none of this is a surprise to you.

Grace looks so pretty in my life. It is an easy thing for me to hold to your sovereignty and delight in your grace. Trusting you is easy for me, b/c my life has been far more blessed than I ever imagined it could be. You have poured grace upon grace upon grace in my life. I have not suffered loss. My children are healthy and well adjusted. My husband adores me and provides for me. My house has electricity and running water. We have two cars and far more food than we can eat in our house. Grace is easy for me. Being thankful is easy for me. But what about grace in the lives of others? What about mothers who have to bury their children or care for desperately ill ones? What about the widows who don't have food to eat? What about D? I don't like the way grace is packaged for him. I don't see beautiful grace in his life. I see devastation and suffering. I see a hurt, hopeless little boy who grew up without a dad and just wants someone to show him how to be a man, to hug him and tell him that he is loved and that they believe in him. Forgive me, Lord; I don't see it. I don't like it. I am eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, labeling things with no true knowledge of the whole picture. I know that I see such a limited view and you see the whole thing beginning to end. I want to stand in the place of creator and judge deciding what is grace and what is not grace.

Kisses from Katie says it so much better, this idea of eating from the tree. Read about it here.
http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/2011/03/i-am-so-old.html

I have grieved and struggled and all I know to do is to keep preaching the gospel truth to my self. We serve a loving God who knows all and can only give grace to us. We don't always like the package that grace comes in, but it is always a gift from God and it is good. He loves D and knew this was coming; it did not catch him by surprise. He knows how this all ends as well.

He used Elizabeth Elliot to say to me, "When it's finished, you'll see." We can't see the whole picture so we don't understand, but when it's finished, we will see.

I was singing in church this morning, "Savior, He can move the mountains, our God is mighty to save, mighty to save. Forever, author of salvation, He rose and conquered the grave, Jesus conquered the grave." As I sang, I heard Him, gently say to me, "I am writing his story. I am still writing his story." So no matter how the grace is packaged and no matter how much I dislike what it looks like. It is not my story to write. I am not writing this story. God is writing D's story. God is writing the story of Jesus in D.

And somehow, in His amazing faithfulness and providence, God is sanctifying me and changing me to make me more like Jesus through D's struggle and my struggle to walk through it. My loving Father is writing my story and D's story and weaving it together into a beautiful tapestry of grace. I can't see it with my eyes, but I choose to see it with my faith. The grief and pain are signs that He is healing me and causing me to be able to feel. The pain is a sign of life and growth and love. Being open to love means being open to pain and somehow that is also beautiful and it is grace.

July 18th, 2011

A little addition thanks to my great friend Sean who encouraged me by pointing out grace in my brother's life right now via text message.

"Grace is that, unlike several other addicts, he falls in direct sight of a Christian community that loves him. Grace is that he knows people that pray for him. Grace is that he is alive."

What comfort from a brother in Christ. It was just what I needed. Straight from the mouth of God to my ear through the mouth of a beloved brother- answer to the questions I prayed aloud in my blog.

Update : Dec 26th. God has moved in D's life. He has 4 months sober, a job, and lives at the 24 hour AA club downtown. He is on the mend, moving forward, pressing into God. He spent the first overnight at our house since the unraveling on Christmas Eve. Our relationship is on the mend. God is healing and showing us how His grace was and is woven into the whole situation.

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.

Waiting for God

I love God with all my heart and desire to serve Him faithfully; I do not, however, long for His coming. That is the honest truth. I strive to be honest and not put on pretense about my struggle or how I really am. So I have never felt a longing like I just wanted Him to come back. I know the famous Paulian scriptures, "For me to live is Christ, to die is gain," and others. I just could not honestly say that my heart was longing for His return. I want to walk with Him and talk with Him; I want to follow Him, but there is much work to do here on the earth. I have heard people saying they long for His return. It just always seemed like some sort of suicidal discontentment with life. Romans says that creation eagerly awaits the revealing of the sons of God, and groans to be delivered from the bondage of corruption. So I do long to see creation delivered from the bondage of sin and long to see the restoration of God's original perfection. I don't sit and groan for Him to come back. I usually don't really get the people who say they do. There are so many lost still in the world. I am not ready to leave yet, b/c I feel like there is work for me to do and more preparation needed to get me ready to do more work. I have children to raise, things to learn and I want to continue to be changed into His image b/c I sure have not arrived at the place where I resemble Christ.

That being said, now I get to my point.

I am a documentary junky. I am totally a dork about it. I watch them and watch them. I find them far more entertaining than regular movies. I like to learn and see other perspectives. I also like to be reminded of the evil and suffering in the world. It is so easy to close a deaf ear to suffering in our society b/c we are so blessed. We forget the so many in the world are desperately poor and oppressed. I feel like if I keep it fresh in my mind that, hopefully, it will influence decisions I make and effect how I spend my money. I watched a couple of really good ones in the last couple weeks that impacted me. I watched "The End of Poverty," and "Blue God: The World Water Wars." I was so sad and angry to see how our lifestyles feed into the poverty of the world. I was angry about big industry and how they get to operate without having to answer for the evil practices the continue in. The thought that a huge water conglomerate can make agreements with a government and buy a water source then charge so much for the water that the poor cannot afford to buy it sickens me. I also felt so helpless to do anything about the evils that I continue to remind myself are in the world. What can I do against a huge water monster to help give water back to the people who should have ownership of it anyway? What can I do to fight the agricultural practices that keep the poor in other countries from being able to feed themselves.

As I walked into church last week pondering these things and the apparent lack of solutions, I was struck for the first time in my walk with a longing for the return of Christ. I do not have an answer for the water crisis or the evil of extreme poverty, but when He comes back there will be no more water crisis, food crisis, or any suffering. I felt a longing to end the suffering. I do not suffer. I do not long for His return so that my situation will change. I did long for Him to come and end the suffering of so many who are totally powerless to make their situations better. I long for them to no longer be hungry and thirsty. I can do what I can for it, but what I have to offer is so small and can only impact such a small little corner of the problem. He, on the other hand, can end it all and bring peace, perfection, beauty and restoration. So, in my heart, I do long for Him to come and set things right, to fight for those who are oppressed and enslaved.

I don't know if I even articulated this in a manner which can be understood, but here it is. Thanks for reading.

I know... I have been so bad about writing

I really have so much to say and I want to say it so badly. It just took longer than I thought it would to settle into a rhythm of life after starting my job. I moved; then I started my job and I started training for my 100 mile ride. It just took me the last 3 months to develop a rhythm to this new schedule. I wanted it to happen faster, but it really took this long. I guess in retrospect, 3 months is not so long to settle after having a couple of major life changes. I have had so many things rattling around in me, but I just haven't been able to find time to let them out. I not only need the time, I also need the right environment with which to release it. I can't really get in the writing mind set of there is chaos around me. I am going to try to set some time at least once a week to write during the summer. I hope that once the children go back to school in the fall I can devote more time to writing during their school day. I also hope to be able to spend more time creating things.

That being said, I am also hoping to slow my pace of life. I find myself always in a hurry, always over committed, never able to just slow down and enjoy the moment. I have always been that way. My brain is always going ninety to nothing; I am onto the next task before I am even done with the task I am currently tending to. I see life as a never ending task list. Even those things that I should enjoy are just tasks to be checked off. Busy, busy, busy!! I have known this is a problem for a long time and have attempted at times to slow down, but never with success. I know part of it is our culture; if you free up time it immediately creates a time vacuum and something else takes its place. That is not an excuse, though. We are supposed to go against the current of society. Jesus calls us to a different kind of life. He was never in a hurry! Fortunately, those things He calls us to, he also helps us to do. I am praying over it and reading and meditating about scriptures that encourage me to slow down, be at peace, and rest.

"What has prompted this new found desire to slow down?" you may ask. Our pastor preached this weekend on this very thing and I felt like he was preaching directly at me. I am so tired; I am so rushed. I felt a sigh within my soul listening to the sermon. It's like inside I was saying, "yes, this is what I need." Almost like I needed permission to realize that I needed to slow down. I don't even take time to enjoy the days and the moments that I am given. I almost think the only way to do that would be to take my family totally out of the race, move to some other country and be missionaries. No, I am not planning to move off right now, but I am seeking God's hand, wisdom and the ability to slow down and not cave under the pressure to continue pushing so hard. Mark said that we all live daily in the fight or flight state of being. This is so true for me and I have made tremendous progress. I am in fight or flight now, so I don't know what you would call where I used to be. I was in a constant state of panicked motion. It was as if a bull dozier was behind me going 90 miles an hour and if I slowed down it would run me over. At one point during the sermon I said to my brother, "I never sit still b/c when I sit still I fall asleep." To which he replied, "Maybe if you sat still a little more often, you would get to the point that you did not fall asleep." Meaning if I could slow down over all, I wouldn't be so exhausted that sitting still induced sleep. I think for the first time in my life I am in the place where I can agree with him about that. He has tried many times to get me to see this point and I have never been in the place to be able to say, "you know, I think you may be right."

I have recently been trying to think about life from this perspective, "If I found out I had cancer, (something that I seem to be seeing a lot around me right now), what would I cut out? What would I want to spend my time doing?"

I put more pressure on myself than I would ever put on anyone else. I feel like I have to make the most of every moment that I have. Part of that is that I wasted so many years being destructive and doing drugs. I have so many things I want to experience. I feel bad if I take a whole day and do nothing, but watch movies and nap. I hate to feel like I have wasted a whole day. That is why I resent having to sleep. I feel like it is such a huge waste of time. There are so many other things I would rather be doing. That time could be used to accomplish so much more. That might be exactly the place I need to look at first. What is the root of the belief that sleeping is a waste of time? God says that rest is good; that we should rest in peace. I need to reprogram myself to believe that rest and sleep are good. I think that we are probably so much more productive when we don't cram every moment with tasks and activities. When we can disengage and relax there is probably better focus and passion to the things we do. I am only guessing b/c I don't disengage very well. I hope that I can learn to disengage and then be able to confirm that theory is in fact true.

It just seems the older I get that faster my life goes by. I don't stop to savor any of it. I don't savor meals, time with friends, time with my family, opportunities to play games. I don't really stop to think about the moments with my children that are passing me by. I only get to live this day one time. I only get to see them in this moment from this perspective one time. Do I stop and take time to breath in the moment? NO!! Ally will only be in our house a few more years, then she will move out and start her own family. Experience tells me that it is at that point we learn to slow down and enjoy the moments. Why do we have to get grand children to be able to embrace the moments children give us? We miss those moments with our children and grand children get the best of us. Stephen is a young man and quickly growing into man hood. When these moments are over, I will long for the day that he leans over and licks my face or punches my arm. Why do I find it so infuriating right now. He loves me and wants to show me affection in his way. Chloe is quickly approaching the awkward teenage years. If I don't learn to love her, speak softly to her and experience her on her terms, then I won't even be able to help her through the awkward years b/c she will have shut me out by then. Chloe is my baby. I don't have another one after her. As she grows up, I am experiencing some of these things for the last time. I pray that this time, I can take this wake up call to slow down serious enough that I can actually reorient my life and apply some breaks.

It seems like life is going by really so slow at some point then without you realizing it life begins to fly by at a dizzying warp speed. Years pass and they seem like days.

Little Easter Revelation

God has been working on this for a couple of days, but this morning He really drove the point home.

Many of my friends know of the ongoing drama of the "drug house" that we moved into. We have had several visitors that were hoping to find the former tenants. To explain the latest piece of the puzzle, I have to rewind to right before we moved in. A new kid started at my daughter's place of work. Through the course of conversation they figured out that he had just moved out of the house we were living in. It was a strangest sort of "coincidence". Then it got complicated as his apparently mentally ill girl friend decided that Ally was trying to steal her boyfriend. Ridiculous! She began calling repeatedly and hanging up. She would do this for hours straight, literally call hang up and immediately call again. Ally ended up on the phone with her some time at the beginning of this; the girl had been screaming at her boyfriend and asked to speak with Ally. When the girl accused Ally, Ally just laughed, said "Don't flatter yourself, I have a boyfriend and I have no interest in your boyfriend," then hung up. The calling went on and on. When Ally would answer the girl would call her a bitch or worse. Finally, the place of employment fired the boy and pressed charges on the girl. I was not too concerned about the matter, until she showed up at our house. We realized that they knew where we lived b/c they lived here before us. They also know where Ally works and leave after 10 pm on most nights. By God's grace, the two showed up when Ally, my mother and I were gone. Only Larry (my husband), Chloe (my youngest) and Larry's brother were home. I have to be honest, I would have taken that girl out and asked Jesus to forgive me later. Call it fleshly instinct, mother's instinct, or whatever. I am a short somewhat tiny girl, but I am strong and I lived on the streets almost 20 years ago. In case you aren't aware, I am not someone you want to really tangle with. Thankfully, I am generally a peace loving hippie type. Anyone who knows me at all, knows I just want everyone to get along and love each other, but deep inside of me that homeless punk girl still lives. I would have shown her crazy like she has never seen. She probably would have been horizontal before she even realized that I have made a move toward her. My husband said,"If I would have thought about it, I would have told her that Ally's mom used to be homeless and she is crazy as a loon." With my rooster hair and my sleeve,I am sure she might have been a little intimidated when she saw me. I am not really what most people expect when you say mom. Needless to say, I was livid. I was ready to kick that girl into next week. I did not care about being a Christian, or living a crucified life at all. She talked smack to Larry, who refused to engage her. He just kept saying "I don't care what you have to say about her, you better leave my daughter alone; I don't play games." He just kept repeating it like a broken record, so they finally left. I am so glad that I was not home. I would have reacted and probably landed myself in jail in the process.
By the next morning God was already at work in my heart. As I ran, I realized that I could not hate the girl or be angry at her. I had to pray for her. She was me. I was crazy jealous like that. I was a nut case before Jesus turned me into a pecan pie. I would have totally gone to some poor girls house and yelled at her. I actually would have probably started beating on her. How sad, b/c Ally really didn't do anything. She really" loves" her boyfriend; whatever that means at 17. But she does care about him and has no interest in this other kid. But had I been the girl I wouldn't have been reasonable either; I would have beaten up an innocent girl b/c I was threatened by her. I started praying for her and the girl with the rotten teeth to come to the Kingdom. I prayed for the Spirit to go ahead and prepare the way and make their hearts open to the gospel and for God to send authentic Christians into their lives to love them and show them the way home, but I was still angry about her.

I prayed the next day for the whole crew, dad, mom, son (boyfriend), girl friend, and the girl with the rotten teeth.

Then this morning as I ran and prayed, and I prayed for them b/c I committed in my heart to pray for them something deeper happened. I saw the whole thing in light of the last day, when we stand before the Lord. I saw the situation outside of my small little story and say it in light of the much bigger story being told. The story that began before I was born and will still, probably, be being told when I am gone. The story that I am in for only a moment; our time here is like the flicker of a lightning bug. We forget that next to eternity and even history, our time here on earth is so fleeting. I saw a much bigger story that I am blessed to be able to have minute in. All this "coincidence" could not possibly just be coincidence. Seriously, what are the chances of the boy being hired at my daughters place of employment. Of all the places, of all the stores in a chain, with the girl who is moving into his house, a house where drugs were dealt. No chance in my mind that this was a coincidental chain of events. God was in the middle of the whole big mess. He orchestrated the whole thing. He chose this house for us. He decided that we would move into a former drug house. The former drug addict, in a house that will quite possibly see many former customers at it's door. The crazy girl friend deciding she hated Ally and stalking her. God has a plan. He knows my heart and He knows what I do when someone does something to me. I get angry for a minute, then I begin to pray. And when I say I am praying for someone it is not with pretense. I am not one of those who says they will pray then walks away and forgets. If I say I am praying, you can take it to the bank. Once you get on my list, you will be there for a while. As a matter of fact, I have a really hard time removing people once they are on. My list just keeps getting longer and longer. Call it a twitch. I feel very responsible for the people on my list of prayer. Not responsible to fix them or something, but responsible to lift them up every morning. I am a creature of rhythm and habit. I pray every day, like I breath and eat. I am not trying to say I am something special or spiritual, or whatever. I am just stating that prayer is as much a part of my life as eating is. It is something I spend a lot of time doing every day. God has given me a gift of being able to develop habits and rhythms very easily and in that He has made prayer a very rhythmic part of my life. So, He purposefully, brought this situation and these people into our lives b/c He has them in mind for the Kingdom. He wants them to come into the Family of God, so He has assigned me to them to seek His face for them. I don't know everything about prayer; as a matter of fact, I don't know much about prayer except that it works, it is a mystery and it is something that beats inside me like my heart. So, I have no doubt that these people are coming to know God b/c I have been assigned like a prayer marine to storm the gates of hell until the shackles fall off of their hands and feet and they are welcomed into the arms of the one who died for them.

There is no coincidence only Providence.

Then when I read my devotional for this morning, God drove it home for good measure. Luke 23:34 says, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do." Jesus prayed for all those around Him. He prayed for the religious leaders, the Romans, the disciples who abandoned Him; he prayed for all of humanity, including this family who used to live in this house. If He can pray, "Father, forgive them, in regards to the ones who nailed Him to the tree, how can I do anything less for the girl who just yelled at my daughter. Haven't we all done at least that, yelled at someone.

I am quite sure that God probably raised up stealth bombers to pray for me. There is no telling how many people prayed for me to come into the Kingdom. I am so grateful that He loves me enough to assign people to pray for me. What a beautiful day it was on earth and in eternity when those prayers found fulfillment. What an amazing day when the "the girl with the mohawk" came to Jesus. Who know someone may have prayed for me just like that, just like I pray for the girl with the rotten teeth. I stole from so many people and did so many terrible things, who knows, God may have directed my destructive behavior to one of His prayer warrior just b/c He know, like He knew with me, that they would pray for me. What a good and gracious God we serve.

I would like to ask for all of my friends and followers to pray diligently for these individuals. God has eyes for them. Jesus loves them and we have no idea what amazing works God has for them to do.
Ephesians 2:1-10
And you He made alive, who were dead in trespasses and sins, in which you once walked according to the course of this world, according to the prince of the power of the air, the spirit who now works in the sons of disobedience, among whom also we all once conducted ourselves in the lusts of our flesh, fulfilling the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, just s the others. But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us, even when we dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved) and raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, that in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. FOR BY GRACE YOU HAVE BEEN SAVED THROUGH FAITH, AND THAT NOT OF YOURSELVES; IT IS THE GIFT OF GOD, NOT OF WORKS, LEST ANYONE SHOULD BOAST. FOR WE ARE HIS WORKMANSHIP, CREATED IN CHRIST JESUS FOR GOOD WORKS, WHICH GOD PREPARED BEFOREHAND THAT WE SHOULD WALK IN THEM.

Who knows what works He has for them to do. Pray for them. J and T (mom and dad), T and girlfriend, and girl with rotten teeth. I don't want to put their names out of respect for them. Please pray diligently for them. The enemy has them and wants to keep them, but we must pray for them and fight for their salvation. I don't want a pretense of prayer, but I pray that God puts passion and love in your heart for them and compassion for the suffering they are undergoing at the hand of a very cruel master.

I am praying for myself as well. I pray that God will break my heart and fill me with His Spirit, love and compassion so that if I am faced with them I will share my story and how Jesus changed my life in a way that is authentic and loving and impactful.

What a beautiful Resurrection gift. I am so glad that God does these things. He is so good to me and I love Him with all my heart.

In the beginning part 5

Ok, we are coming up on the best part of the whole story. Every one's eager anticipating of the great meeting has me motivated to try and plow through the last of the story.

So, I guess we stopped at moving in the guy. But wait, first. I just have to say, I love writing this blog and I love sharing my story. Sometimes, though, I feel so exposed. Sometimes it hits me that all my darkest secrets are on the World Wide Web for anyone to read. People that I see everyday and people I have never met know all my secrets. I mean, I love telling my story, sometimes, though, I just think, you are telling people things that any normal person would keep secret locked away in a vault. They say that you are only as sick as your secrets and that the power of a secret is in the fact that it is a secret. So, once they secrets are exposed to the light, it has no power any more. Don't make too much of this little rant. I don't regret sharing. I want to tell the whole world my story b/c it is such an amazing story of God's grace and redemption. I just sometimes have a moment where I think what an odd thing it is the my blackest deepest moments are in print for all the world to read.

I moved in with this guy. It was kind of an awkward situation b/c I was married to this Squid character (he wasn't dead yet); I was pregnant with Crab's baby, and I was living with this other guy. At the time, we were really into inhalants. We would frequently mix them with LSD. There was a lot of LSD floating around that place. I had just gotten back from Cali and the LSD was not very strong. I cannot really remember how long I have been staying there. I don't think it had been very long. We took like 6 hits of LSD (for Cali standard at the time, that wasn't much, normally that is quite a bit). It just so happened this was a point in time when there was really, really strong acid going around. So we took quite a roller coaster ride, all of us. The whole night was pretty insane. I was pretty out of touch. It wasn't the type of out of touch that I can't see what was really going on now, but at the time things were pretty weird. I can say, I am not sure why I took so much LSD when I was doing drugs b/c I have very few good trips. Most of the time, I was miserable. It caused me mind to be so paranoid and weird. Everyone used to think I was so cute when I was tripping b/c I would keep one hand in my mouth with a big smile on my face. I was really actually scared out of my mind most of the time. I usually thought that Satan was after me or that someone was trying to kill me. Now tell me, why would someone want to repeatedly put themselves in the position to be that scared, but I did it hundreds of times over my drug career. I couldn't tell you how many times I did it. So it was a pretty strange night. At one point, I kept hearing this strange noise in the living room; we were in the bedroom hanging out. I thought that my boyfriends room mate was cooking the cat in the microwave (what I really heard was the hippy beads hanging between the living room and dining room every time some one passed through them- of course I did not realize that until we had come down). At another point, I became convinced that my best friend and boyfriend thought I had stolen something from them, so I cleaned out my pockets and told them to take anything that belonged to them (of course they looked at me like I had two heads). Then while laughing I caught sight of one of the boyfriends knives laying beside the bed and was convinced that they were plotting to kill me. That really freaked me out. Of course, in my paranoid state I did not share what I was thinking b/c I didn't want them to know I knew what was going on.

I must share the religious views represented in the house that night to give you a framework of what was about to happen. I was a proclaimed Atheist (my mom had met Jesus a couple years before and I thought she was crazy). My best friend was an agnostic. The boyfriend and his roommate were proclaimed Satanists who like stealing tombstones from the graveyard (they were all over the house). The boyfriend had been raised a Christian in a Charismatic church and turned away. I have a sense that he wasn't shown a very authentic Christianity. Then there was this one guys who claimed to be a Christian.

We were trying to just chill and the Christian (who was tripping too, was our LSD dealer and was huffing carburetor cleaner) kept coming in bringing up God. He is the one who started us on the religious talk. We all ended up in the living room tripping and huffing every kind of huffable chemical you can imagine. At one point me and Star were on the porch huffing Glade and watching the "sun rise" only to be told it was 10 pm so whatever we were looking at was not possibly the sun rise. There was starting fluid we huffed a bit. Then the Freon came out. Now, lest you forget, I am about 5 months pregnant with Ally at this point. Thank God, for His grace and mercy, b/c she is perfectly normal, super smart and a tremendous blessing in my life.

We were all huffing stuff and arguing over religion. I was calling all of them idiots for believing in anything. I said, "You guys are stupid, there is no God, no Satan, no heaven, no hell. You are all going to rot in the ground and feel stupid for believing in all this non sense." Then I took a huge gulp of Freon. Now, this part of the story must be told in two different perspectives. The first perspective is mine. I heard a deep guttural voice come from out of the floor that said, "Go get her boys." Imagine the voice a movie would give a demon or Satan; that is the voice. Immediately, I fell through the floor and fell for a couple minutes. When my feel landed I was in Hell. I will do my best to describe what I saw, but I have trouble putting it into even verbal words. There were flames all around me, but they were sort of transparent. I felt this horrible feeling inside of me that I came to realize after I met Jesus was total separation from God. Then I realized that there were demons all around me pointing and laughing at me. I knew that they were mocking me as if to say, "ha!! we tricked you, we got you to not believe in us or God and now you are here and there is nothing you can do about it." I truly believe that every person that ends up in hell will experience this mockery as the hoards laugh in victory. Then came what I have called "the dooky monsters". I know that you probably LOL ed over that, but when I came out of the hallucination that is the only thing I could come up with to describe them. They looked like sleestaks from the old school Land of the Lost, only they had glowing grids on them like the old Tron game. The walked kind of like sleestaks too. As they got closer to me, they jumped at me and then I was inside of them. It was like I was inside thick gelatin. Then I sort of flashed from scene to scene in hell. I was retarded for a minute, then some other places I don't really remember. The next think I knew I was back in the trailer, one of the guys had a hold of my arms and the door to the trailer was knocked off the hinges.

Now, the perspective of the observers. I took my big hit if Freon, then suddenly I was screaming bloody murder, stomping on the guy that was laying on the ground beside where I was standing while I tried to get something off of my arms. The guys said that they had never heard anyone scream like I screamed before. It was blood curdling as they said. The guys had to grab me to keep me from stomping the other ones face in. And I was still going so crazy I knocked him into the door and knocked it off of its hinges.

As I came too, everyone was staring at me wide eyed like, "what the hell, just happened?" I was like, "wow, what the hell was that?" Then I said, "I don't know what just happened. I don't know where I just was, but I don't think I am an atheist anymore. I don't know what I believe, but I feel like if I ever end up in that place again, I will not be able to leave it. and...I don't want to go back." I was pretty flipped out the rest of the night. To this day, the group of friends that I hung out with at the time says that I had a bad trip and went religious.

So, the next day, I called my mom. I knew she would be able to help me understand what had happened b/c she was into this religious thing.

Now stop for a minute and really think about what you have read in the previous parts so you can really see the miracle here and really see the power of God. Forgive me for becoming an evangelist for a minute. This is the girl who used to kick in peoples wind shields. This is the gutter punk who stole and conned, manipulated and attacked people. This is the drug addict who just wanted to die in a numb overdose. Hopeless, angry, bitter, broken, and done with life. Who do you know, that is a hopeless case? Who have you just given up on? Who is the person that you have spoken over and over to only to have them reject or even laugh in your face? What is the situation that you despair has an end, an answer, a hope? Think about in a minute.

Don't cheat!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Stop!!!!!!!!!!! Think!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Find it in your mind!!!!


Now, you can read on. That girl who wasn't even looking for God, that angry girl who would have stolen your wedding ring right off of you finger, and spit in your face while she did it, God reached from eternity and grabbed her by the shoulders, shook her, and said "here is what you are choosing for eternity, wouldn't you like to have something better?" There is NO HOPELESS SITUATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! God is the God of Hope. He is the God of redemption! He is the only one who can change us. He is hope for the hopeless, healing for the bleeding, salve for the wounded, peace for the tormented, joy for the sorrowful. He loves, forgives, and restores.

Now back to my story. I called mom and I said,"mom, I know you don't approve of me doing drugs while I am pregnant, but something happened last night and I need to talk to you about it." I told her the story and asked her what I should do about it. I said, "I am not sure I believe in God, but I am afraid to take the chance on going back to that place. I don't want to spend eternity there." Her response was the wisdom if our loving Father in Heaven. I believe that He told her exactly what to say. She said, "This is what I would tell you to do. Pray and say, 'God if you are real show yourself to me.' If He is real, He will show you. If He is not, you haven't lost anything and no one ever even has to know that you prayed that prayer." So I started praying that day. I prayed it every night for a couple months. I broke up with the boy and the adoption agency I was talking to about having my baby adopted helped me get an apartment. I was working the night shift at Whataburger.

Then one night when I was about 7 months pregnant, I called me mom and said I want to go to church with you tonight. It was a Friday night (the church she went to had Friday night services). She was a little shocked, but said she would pick me up. I walked into that church that night 7 months pregnant (huge belly), in a tiny little mini dress, Doc Martins, leather jacket, bright red mohawk (standing straight up). They started doing Praise and Worship and as I looked around everyone seemed so happy and they seemed to be really into the God thing. Tears kept streaming out of my eyes. I kept wiping them away and I was so annoyed that they wouldn't stop. (I never cried, ever!!) I think the tears were b/c I could feel the presence of God around me. I have no idea what was preached that night. At the end of the service a man named David Fees stood me up and began to "prophesy" as they called it. He spoke right to my heart. It was like he cut through every layer of denial, hurt and fear I had and got right into my true heart. He said to me, "The Lord wants you to know that He loves you and that He has seen your tears." I still get tears in my eyes and chills every time I say or write that. I began to weep uncontrollably. No one had ever loved me. My mother and father didn't even love me. She does now and she really did when I was a child as well. She just didn't know how to love b/c she was so broken and devastated herself. I had never felt loved by anyone. I had never felt like anyone valued me at all. But then David spoke to me and told me that someone did love me and that someone loved me enough to die on a cross for me. Well, really he died on the cross for all of humanity, but that is a whole theological discussion for another day. David asked if I wanted to ask Jesus into my heart to be my savior and I did pray and I was never the same.

My transformation was immediate. It was like night and day. There was nothing gradual about any part of it. I did a 180 and hit the ground running. I even went to hang out with some of my old friends that night and began to tell them about this Jesus who loved me. I didn't really know anything at all about Him or the Bible or anything, but I knew that He loved me and I loved him. I knew that I prayed and I felt His presence. I had prayed and asked , "if you are real, show yourself to me" and He showed up and He showed himself to me. I knew I would never be the same. It didn't matter who believed me or who mocked me. No one could change my mind Jesus loved me and no one else really mattered to me anymore. I have never done drugs since that night. It was actually a few weeks before that night, but I count my drug sobriety date as that night b/c that is when I knew I never wanted drugs again. Jesus was so much better!!! That was July 17, 1992. At that point, I was intending to give the baby up for adoption and they had no idea about the drugs.

I am going to stop for now and pick up more on that later. But for all of you who have been eagerly awaiting this part of the story, there you go. Thanks for reading. I love to tell this story, it is so good, He is so good.