Parable in the form of ornaments

I have bee working on these ornaments I am making to raise money for Bringlove.in. They ended up being much more popular than I thought they would be. Because of their popularity I have ended up spending a lot of time making them over the last month or so. As I have been making them, God has shown me different lessons.

The first lesson that came to my heart involved the materials they ornaments are made out of. They are made out of scraps of material woven into latch hook grid material. The idea for the ornaments came from a book, so the original idea was not mine. I just took the concept and made it my own. All the materials I have used with the exception of the grid are recycled materials. I have a hard time throwing much of anything away b/c I know almost anything has the potential to be made into art. I have a drawer that I have been throwing material scraps into since I started sewing. I didn't have any idea what I would do with it, but I just couldn't bring myself to throw it away. Now it's so funny that what most people would have sees as rejected, useless fabric has become beautiful in the hands of the artist. Trash has become art. It occurred to me as I was working on ornaments that this is what God does so many times. I know in the case of me, no one else really saw anything of value when they looked at me. What people saw was a dirty, homeless punk rock girl. God picked up the trash and turned it into art. He took something that seemed to have no value and wove it into something beautiful. How often do we overlook unseen potential in a person or even a situation b/c we don't take time to change perspectives. Maybe what we are looking at just needs to be woven into something different, something bigger-like the church.

Five Minute Friday: Color

This will be my first time to participate in this exercise. I have been following, but never get around to doing it.

So Here Goes.

Color is beautiful. I love bright colors. I love combinations so complementary colors. For so many years I wore only black with maybe a splash of red. I spent years working in the makeup and hair industry and found that to be a perfect excuse to wear only black. I tended to toward a more gothic type style and so black and red worked for me. That also bled into my art. It was very dark, black, red and gray color schemes.

What color represents in my life now is the healing of God in my heart. I have begun to phase the blacks out and slowly add color. My wardrobe is changing slowly. What is really changing is my art. My art has become so lively, bright. So outside of the box. I am becoming so much more adventurous. The timidity of being scared of the artist in me and scared of failing has been so stripped away and healed. My art is life and color and a stunning example of God's power to heal and change and restore.

Stop!!

That wasn't very long. and it also wasn't very hard. Maybe if I would commit to this every Friday I could find more time to use the gift of writing God has given me.

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.

Just a little something...

This is something I wrote one day after wrestling in prayer over the things that break my heart and cause me to shutter and sometimes cry; in the midst of those times of wrestling, I sometimes doubt that my prayers even make a difference. Sometimes, I don't even know how to pray and I just say, "Lord, please do something. I don't know how to pray, but you do. Please turn my petitions into something that is meaningful and makes a difference." Then I am reminded of Romans 8:26
If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. (Message translation).


Beautiful God, I love you
Beautiful God, I trust you
Then I find myself asking
"What can we do?"

How can we just sit
Idly by doing nothing
But what can we do
O Lord, have mercy
O Lord, do something

For you have been so good to me
You have dealt so bountifully with me
But how can my soul return to rest
When there is so much suffering
When children are hungry
When mothers are grieving
When war and famine wreak destruction
When restless masses have no where to call home

I want to trust you
But when, O Lord,
When we will the oppressed go free
When will children have parents
When will the hungry be fed
When will the broken know healing
When will we love and care and give and hear.

Confession time

I have never thought that I could be addicted to pain pills. I am not saying that I judge those who are or have been addicted to them. I am an addict of a different kind. I am an alcoholic and and a speed freak. That is why I have never really been able to see myself with a pain pill problem. When I have surgery or some reason to need them, I get the prescription filled, take what I need and them leave the remainder in a bottle somewhere in my house. I just don't like the way they make me feel. I have spent so much of my life feeling tired and groggy that I don't like that feeling that vicodin gives me... usually. I like to feel speedy and get lots of things done. Most of the people who know me know that I hate to sleep and resent the fact that I am required to eat or sleep.

Well I had major dental work done on Tuesday. I was in a lot of pain; I took my pills and went to sleep. I got up and took some ibuprofen the next morning. After being awake a couple hours I took a pain pill and went to work. This is the first time I have had to take pain pills and work. Usually I take them and go to sleep; by the time I have to function normally, I am usually done taking them. In order to combat the grogginess I drank one of my extra stout white mocha drinks. When the ibuprofen wore off and the pain started again, I took another pain pill (not realizing that really the ibuprofen is what made the pain stop). It was at that point I started to feel really good. It was somewhat reminiscent of my speed ball days (heroin and cocaine together), only not quite as intense. I was so relaxed, but wired from the coffee. Wow!!! I thought. I came home and later made the connection that is was the ibuprofen actually made my mouth stop hurting. It seems to me the vicodin doesn't take the pain away; it just makes you not care about it. The ibuprofen actually eased the discomfort. That night (Wednesday)I told myself that I didn't need to take anymore of those pills; I just needed to take my ibuprofen. The problem was when I got up Thursday I wanted to take the vicodin even though I had taken ibuprofen and knew it would take away the discomfort. I wanted to take a couple and go drink coffee so I could feel relaxed and wired at the same time. "Alarms starting going off all over my head." I am so grateful for the grace of God that sent the Holy Spirit to live inside of me and lead me and speak to me. I am so grateful for the grace of God that gives me a willing heart to hear His voice and deep desire to obey and fear losing the walk He has given me each day. I now see how easy it would be for me to fall into that addiction. I gave the pills to my husband and asked him to hide them.

I am so grateful for the glimpse into how susceptible I still am to falling into a new addiction and now much my flesh still yearns for an escape. I am so grateful that God is bigger than my addictive personality and that He loves me enough to warn me and give me the ability to catch it before it gets out of hand. I am grateful that its okay to be tempted and to struggle; and I am grateful that He allows me this platform to share and hopefully impact others.