Okay - jumping the gun a bit, but I figured this was a good "thank you" for the New Year. I wrote this about ten years ago and sent it to my mom after she'd had a particularly bad year. It was found when we were cleaning out her house.
January, 2001
It's that time of year again, a time to ponder all of the wonderful miraculous blessings that we have received for yet another year. Sometimes it's difficult to separate one year from another. Time flies so swiftly, and we forget that what was so troublesome to us last year has now become a distant memory at best. That's how quickly God can and does change things in our lives.
Sometimes I find myself neglecting to remember just how much God has answered my prayers. At these moments I truly realize how ungrateful I am. So God, please forgive me, and help me to remember:
Help me to remember the sore throat that went away, the toothache that never came, the car bill that wasn't mine to pay, the accident that never happened, the roommates and apartment that were mine to share, the extra money that helped me go on that trip, the doctor's visit that proved everything was A-OK.
The extra long smile from my brand new niece, the surprise week off from school, the long visit with my mom, a hug from a friend that changed my whole day, the Word of Life teaching my soul, the extra soft pillow on my bed at night, the stars shining brightly in the sky, the electricity we never lost, the rainbow reminding us that You keep your promises.
The newborn babies I got to hold, the Saturday nights we spent with friends, the Sunday morning trips to church, the cows in the meadow and the grass in the field, and every other single blessing I've received so ungratefully from such a gracious hand as yours.
Amen.
P.S. Help me to have a better memory next year.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Love is as Strong as Death
Wow! Stare at a blank page and wonder if any words will come to explain what’s happening. As the verse in scripture goes the Spirit intercedes for us when we know not how or what to pray. So here I am wordlessly praying that something good, even beautiful, will come out of all the pain that’s stored up in my heart.
Having her so close to death during the Holiday season is certainly no fun. It makes me wonder if this time of year will ever be celebratory again for my family and me.
Lately, I have wondered in my heart why God would allow my mother’s last days to happen during a season that is supposed to be filled with hope, joy, and peace. Is this some cruel twist of irony? I have to say that as I watch her walk through this final struggle I almost feel angry with God. What kind of God would do this to us? Why should the holiday season be forever tainted by this loss?
But the other day as I drove up to be with her, I played Christmas music. Don’t’ ask me why. It just seemed to be the right thing to do at the time. And though my stony heart rebelled against the joy, the hope, the peace of the music, in time it became perfectly clear to me why losing mom during this Christmas Season is a beautiful thing. God has made everything beautiful in its time. Ecclesiastes 3:11a (NIV)
I know it sounds crazy and that losing her now means that the holiday season will always be bittersweet. But it is the season we are in now that gives me hope. There is a passage in the bible that reminds me of something. It reminds me that while my mom will be leaving her earthly body soon there is something that is even stronger than death. The verse comes from Song of Songs:
6 Place me like a seal over your heart,
like a seal on your arm.
For love is as strong as death,
its jealousy[c] as enduring as the grave.[d]
Love flashes like fire,
the brightest kind of flame.
7 Many waters cannot quench love,
nor can rivers drown it.
If a man tried to buy love
with all his wealth,
his offer would be utterly scorned. (NLT)
like a seal on your arm.
For love is as strong as death,
its jealousy[c] as enduring as the grave.[d]
Love flashes like fire,
the brightest kind of flame.
7 Many waters cannot quench love,
nor can rivers drown it.
If a man tried to buy love
with all his wealth,
his offer would be utterly scorned. (NLT)
The phrase that caught my attention? “Love is as strong as death.” I’ve been thinking about it and reflecting on it. It all ties together with a moment when everything clicked for me.
A few weeks ago, I called Mom to check in on her. At that point she was still feeling relatively well - more like her “old self”. At the end of every phone conversation we always express our love to one another, but at the end of this phone call mom uttered an addendum to the normal “I love you.” Her three simple words, “Never forget that,” were a benediction of sorts - a memory that will burn in my heart for years to come
Since that conversation her health has continued to deteriorate, and, while I know that when she passes life will go on for the rest us, there is a part of me that will never be the same. But even in the midst of this loss, there is hope. Though the grave may take her from us, for now, – the love more powerful than death will hold us in an inseparable bond – mother, daughter now and always. And no death is going to rob me of that joy – not ever. 1 Corinthians 13:12, 13 Now we see but a poor refection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known. And now these three things remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love. (NIV)
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Is God a republican?
I've been thinking a little bit lately about how much we judge a book by its cover in many areas of life - especially when it comes to judging people. We try to stuff a person into a box as if they are only one dimensional in their personality, character, looks, beliefs. Oh he's a conservative that must mean that he has no appreciation for preserving nature, no inclination to reach out to the poor and needy assisting in any way possible. Or that liberal must not be a Christian based on their beliefs.
I remember in 2008 when Obama was running against McCain I watched a debate that was mediated by Rick Warren. One of the points of hosting the event, Warren explained, was to engage people in a civilized debate - a debate that would pave the way for understanding rather then "demonizing" the other side. And aren't we really good at that - demonizing the "other side".
But you know what when I think about it I really don't fit every stereotype that one might label me as a Conservative Republican. I do care about the environment. I don't believe the rich should get richer while the poor get poorer. I think it's important to be socially responsible to all people regardless of creed, color, or beliefs.
Some might say that if God were on earth he would be a republican. But really, really do we think that God takes sides when it comes to politics? Personally, I don't think he does. Rather, I believe that He's above the fray, the debates, the indignation that some feel towards the other party.
You might wonder why I came to that conclusion. Well, part of it stems from how Jesus responded to "politics" when he walked on the earth. Over and over again he told the people that his kingdom is not of this world. Rather it is an eternal one. It is a kingdom of people not of politics. It's about individuals - individuals he loves and would die to save - people he would sacrifice anything for to bring back home.
There's a story in the old testament that intrigues me when it comes to this idea of taking sides. It's the story of when the Israelites were getting ready to march into the promised land. They know that to inherit the land they will have to defeat many of the peoples who have established civilizations there. Joshua is to be the leader of the armies of God. So before they enter one such city - Jericho, Joshua scouts out the land and the city itself to make a battle plan. On his way to do this he comes across a "man" who is brandishing a sword. Here's what happenes:
Joshua 5:13 Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked "Are you for us or for our enemies?"
"Neither," [the angel] replied "but as commander of the army of the Lord I have now come." (NIV)
What?! He's not going to take sides? The Israelites are God's chosen people. The ones he led out of Egypt and guided through the wilderness to bring them to the land he promised to their ancestors. He's made a covenant with them; He is their God, they are his people. When I read this verse out of the book of Joshua, I was stunned by the angel's response. If he was sent by God wouldn't you expect him to say something like, "I'm all for ya brother, cmon on lets go kick some Jericho butt." But he didn't answer that way. So the question is if God doesn't pick sides then who are we really fighting against in this battle of life?
Ephesions 6:12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
Who are we really fighting against when we take sides, snub our noses at, or put others in boxes? It's Satan, the liar, the one who loves to create division among people, particularly God's people. So maybe the next time you feel tempted to put someone in a box, or look at them in a one dimensional way you should remember who the real enemy is. Reach out and try to understand the person you despise, disgust, loathe - the one you consider your enemy. Rather than creating more division maybe we can learn to civilly disagree, and in that understanding live without demonizing the other person or side.
I remember in 2008 when Obama was running against McCain I watched a debate that was mediated by Rick Warren. One of the points of hosting the event, Warren explained, was to engage people in a civilized debate - a debate that would pave the way for understanding rather then "demonizing" the other side. And aren't we really good at that - demonizing the "other side".
But you know what when I think about it I really don't fit every stereotype that one might label me as a Conservative Republican. I do care about the environment. I don't believe the rich should get richer while the poor get poorer. I think it's important to be socially responsible to all people regardless of creed, color, or beliefs.
Some might say that if God were on earth he would be a republican. But really, really do we think that God takes sides when it comes to politics? Personally, I don't think he does. Rather, I believe that He's above the fray, the debates, the indignation that some feel towards the other party.
You might wonder why I came to that conclusion. Well, part of it stems from how Jesus responded to "politics" when he walked on the earth. Over and over again he told the people that his kingdom is not of this world. Rather it is an eternal one. It is a kingdom of people not of politics. It's about individuals - individuals he loves and would die to save - people he would sacrifice anything for to bring back home.
There's a story in the old testament that intrigues me when it comes to this idea of taking sides. It's the story of when the Israelites were getting ready to march into the promised land. They know that to inherit the land they will have to defeat many of the peoples who have established civilizations there. Joshua is to be the leader of the armies of God. So before they enter one such city - Jericho, Joshua scouts out the land and the city itself to make a battle plan. On his way to do this he comes across a "man" who is brandishing a sword. Here's what happenes:
Joshua 5:13 Now when Joshua was near Jericho, he looked up and saw a man standing in front of him with a drawn sword in his hand. Joshua went up to him and asked "Are you for us or for our enemies?"
"Neither," [the angel] replied "but as commander of the army of the Lord I have now come." (NIV)
What?! He's not going to take sides? The Israelites are God's chosen people. The ones he led out of Egypt and guided through the wilderness to bring them to the land he promised to their ancestors. He's made a covenant with them; He is their God, they are his people. When I read this verse out of the book of Joshua, I was stunned by the angel's response. If he was sent by God wouldn't you expect him to say something like, "I'm all for ya brother, cmon on lets go kick some Jericho butt." But he didn't answer that way. So the question is if God doesn't pick sides then who are we really fighting against in this battle of life?
Ephesions 6:12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.
Who are we really fighting against when we take sides, snub our noses at, or put others in boxes? It's Satan, the liar, the one who loves to create division among people, particularly God's people. So maybe the next time you feel tempted to put someone in a box, or look at them in a one dimensional way you should remember who the real enemy is. Reach out and try to understand the person you despise, disgust, loathe - the one you consider your enemy. Rather than creating more division maybe we can learn to civilly disagree, and in that understanding live without demonizing the other person or side.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Last weekend my family and I went up to South Dakota for Thanksgiving. We were there to celebrate, of course, but we also had some work to do. Mom's house has been sold, and we were there to clean out the storage room. A few boxes of mine were in that room, and as I sifted through them, all of these memories came flooding back.
One item that particularly interested me was a box filled with letters from my grade school years up to high school. It was so fun to read about the good old days. I was amazed at the friends I had back then - how good they were to me, how much we cared about each other, the fun times we experienced together. Looking back to those days made me remember something very important; life is precious.
It's easy to trudge through our days taking them for granted, thinking that nothing ever changes, nothing ever will. But that is so untrue. Life does change. We change. Our circumstances change. The problem is that in the midst of the monotony of everyday life we forget that.
So how do we stop taking our days for granted? How do we live each day to the fullest making each day count? I think one way we can do this is by realizing that whatever a day brings to us, whether it's craziness, sadness, loneliness, satisfaction, peace, or joy; it will be a day that we can never reclaim. I don't know about you, but I want to live my life without regrets; no looking back, no wishing to revisit the past. Who knows but that tomorrow will bring an unexpected curve in the road, or even a dead end. Who knows what's waiting just around the corner? Only God does.
As the saying goes, "Time marches on and waits for no man." May we all march in a way that brings glory to God - a way that we can look back and say, "Yes we lived each day as if it were our last."
All of this reminds me of a quote I once came across. It's a quote that helps me to remember to find the miracle in the monotony of everyday life.
God works out his own high purposes, slowly as it seems oftentimes, but surely and with unerring wisdom, until all things being done, the end is sudden, dramatic, complete. ~Cynthia Heald
Our lives are strung together day by day. Each one has meaning. Each one has purpose. All of the little days of life are leading us to an end that will be sudden, dramatic, complete. So as we go along day by day, may we march joyfully to the beat of the drum of time looking back with no regrets.
One item that particularly interested me was a box filled with letters from my grade school years up to high school. It was so fun to read about the good old days. I was amazed at the friends I had back then - how good they were to me, how much we cared about each other, the fun times we experienced together. Looking back to those days made me remember something very important; life is precious.
It's easy to trudge through our days taking them for granted, thinking that nothing ever changes, nothing ever will. But that is so untrue. Life does change. We change. Our circumstances change. The problem is that in the midst of the monotony of everyday life we forget that.
So how do we stop taking our days for granted? How do we live each day to the fullest making each day count? I think one way we can do this is by realizing that whatever a day brings to us, whether it's craziness, sadness, loneliness, satisfaction, peace, or joy; it will be a day that we can never reclaim. I don't know about you, but I want to live my life without regrets; no looking back, no wishing to revisit the past. Who knows but that tomorrow will bring an unexpected curve in the road, or even a dead end. Who knows what's waiting just around the corner? Only God does.
As the saying goes, "Time marches on and waits for no man." May we all march in a way that brings glory to God - a way that we can look back and say, "Yes we lived each day as if it were our last."
All of this reminds me of a quote I once came across. It's a quote that helps me to remember to find the miracle in the monotony of everyday life.
God works out his own high purposes, slowly as it seems oftentimes, but surely and with unerring wisdom, until all things being done, the end is sudden, dramatic, complete. ~Cynthia Heald
Our lives are strung together day by day. Each one has meaning. Each one has purpose. All of the little days of life are leading us to an end that will be sudden, dramatic, complete. So as we go along day by day, may we march joyfully to the beat of the drum of time looking back with no regrets.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Loving the Giver more than the Gifts
So, with Thanksgiving fast approaching I thought it would be appropriate to write about what being thankful means to me. I have to admit that there have been many times in my life when I have not been thankful. Whether in plenty or in want- sometimes it's too easy to keep my focus on things; what I have, what I don't have. In fact, sometimes I become so obsessed with my "things" that I forget about the One who gave them to me.
I will always remember a prayer that my aunt prayed one Thanksgiving; "Dear Lord, help us to love you the Giver more than we love the gifts you give." That powerful petition has stuck with me to this day. So, here's a list of just some of the things I am so thankful for:
the sweet scent of spring
the smell of a newly mowed lawn
a bright, blue sky on a warm, sunshiney day
my kids' laughter
my husband's love
family and friends who are there through good times and bad
my bed (Oh, how I love to sleep)
my dog (Well, unless he's barking which, when I think about it, takes up a good portion of the day.)
happy and healthy kids
Jesus
the many posessions I have - most of which are wants more than needs
A Creator
A beautiful crystal clear lake just right for dipping toes in
Breathtaking sunsets
And the list goes on and on and on . . .
I remember before I was diagnosed bipolar coming across a verse that reminded me about what is truly important - the Giver, not the gifts. It struck me as such a powerful verse that I journaled about it that day. Here's an excerpt of what I wrote:
Psalm 62:10b Though your riches increase, do not set your heart on them.(NIV)
When I underlined this verse, I felt as though God was sending me a message: 'When things get better, when you enter your own "Promised Land", don't forget about me'. But, I must admit, in the midst of prosperity it's so easy to forget about God . . . '
Since being diagnosed, my riches have increased. The first and most important way has been in my well- being - both of body and mind. I feel really good most days. I'm not bogged down by the despair that comes with depression, and, with the right meds, my mania is very manageable. On top of all that I have a wonderful family who supports and encourages me. So yea, life is really, REALLY good for me. So much so, that I guess you could say I've entered my own 'Promised Land'. All of this reminds me of a strict warning that God gave to the Israelites before they came into their Promised Land -a land flowing with milk and honey.
Deutoronomy 6:10 When the Lord your God brings you into the land he swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Issac and Jacob, to give you - a land with large, flourishing cities you did not build, houses filled with all kinds of good things you did not provide, wells you did not dig, and vineyards and olive groves you did not plant - then when you eat and are satisfied, be careful that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. (NIV)
So, if you are living in your own 'promised land' and, in the midst of your prosperity, you're tempted to forget about God, I have a little encouragement for you. On this sacred week of thanks -make your own list of gifts. Keep the list handy, and each day whisper a prayer of thanksgiving to the One who has given us so much. Most important of all, keep your heart close to Him; the One who showers us with blessings too numerous to count.
I will always remember a prayer that my aunt prayed one Thanksgiving; "Dear Lord, help us to love you the Giver more than we love the gifts you give." That powerful petition has stuck with me to this day. So, here's a list of just some of the things I am so thankful for:
the sweet scent of spring
the smell of a newly mowed lawn
a bright, blue sky on a warm, sunshiney day
my kids' laughter
my husband's love
family and friends who are there through good times and bad
my bed (Oh, how I love to sleep)
my dog (Well, unless he's barking which, when I think about it, takes up a good portion of the day.)
happy and healthy kids
Jesus
the many posessions I have - most of which are wants more than needs
A Creator
A beautiful crystal clear lake just right for dipping toes in
Breathtaking sunsets
And the list goes on and on and on . . .
I remember before I was diagnosed bipolar coming across a verse that reminded me about what is truly important - the Giver, not the gifts. It struck me as such a powerful verse that I journaled about it that day. Here's an excerpt of what I wrote:
Psalm 62:10b Though your riches increase, do not set your heart on them.(NIV)
When I underlined this verse, I felt as though God was sending me a message: 'When things get better, when you enter your own "Promised Land", don't forget about me'. But, I must admit, in the midst of prosperity it's so easy to forget about God . . . '
Since being diagnosed, my riches have increased. The first and most important way has been in my well- being - both of body and mind. I feel really good most days. I'm not bogged down by the despair that comes with depression, and, with the right meds, my mania is very manageable. On top of all that I have a wonderful family who supports and encourages me. So yea, life is really, REALLY good for me. So much so, that I guess you could say I've entered my own 'Promised Land'. All of this reminds me of a strict warning that God gave to the Israelites before they came into their Promised Land -a land flowing with milk and honey.
Deutoronomy 6:10 When the Lord your God brings you into the land he swore to your fathers, to Abraham, Issac and Jacob, to give you - a land with large, flourishing cities you did not build, houses filled with all kinds of good things you did not provide, wells you did not dig, and vineyards and olive groves you did not plant - then when you eat and are satisfied, be careful that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery. (NIV)
So, if you are living in your own 'promised land' and, in the midst of your prosperity, you're tempted to forget about God, I have a little encouragement for you. On this sacred week of thanks -make your own list of gifts. Keep the list handy, and each day whisper a prayer of thanksgiving to the One who has given us so much. Most important of all, keep your heart close to Him; the One who showers us with blessings too numerous to count.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
A Rock Star
So I was running today, and I was thinking about rock stars. You know the ones we idolize, adore, would- give-anything-to meet kind of rock stars. I have to admit that I'm starting to get out of the loop when it comes to knowing who's popular these days. Take, for instance, Justin Bieber. When I first heard about him, I thought his last name was Beaver. And I thought to myself 'that is a really strange name for a rock star'.
All this thinking about rock stars made me think about something else. Something that may sound silly, but I wondered about it nonetheless. Why don't we as believers love Jesus and treat him as our rock star? Yea, yea I know - Jesus as a rock star - how crazy can you get? But think about it for a second. Why do we love celebrities? It 's not like they do anything for us, they only know us as one of the masses who love and adore them. And I seriously doubt that any one of them would be willing to give up their life for me.
But Jesus did. He gave up his life for me. I'm not just one of the masses to him. He knows me intimately and personally. He is, in every sense of the word, a true rock star. So why don't I jump up and down when I think about him? Why am I embarassed to even mention his name in cetain crowds? My rock star, Jesus.
Nope, I sure don't treat him like one.
And for now, maybe that's all right. He knows my weaknesses. He understands that I'm just dust and bones. And, most importantly, he's not ashamed of me. So I figure I shouldn't be ashamed of him either. In the church I grew up in we used to sing a hymn about this - about being ashamed of Jesus. Wish you could hear the tune- it's quite catchy. But, for now, take note of the lyrics, and try not to forget who the ultimate rock star is.
"Jesus! And Shall It Ever Be"by Joseph Grigg, c. 1722-1768
Altered by Benjamin Francis, 1734-1799
1. Jesus! and shall it ever be
A mortal man ashamed of Thee?
Ashamed of Thee, whom angels praise,
Whose glories shine through endless days?
2. Ashamed of Jesus? Sooner far
Let evening blush to own a star.
He sheds the beams of light divine
O'er this benighted soul of mine.
3. Ashamed of Jesus? Just as soon
Let midnight be ashamed of noon.
'Tis midnight with my soul till He,
Bright Morning Star, bids darkness flee.
4. Ashamed of Jesus, that dear Friend
On whom my hopes of heaven depend?
No; when I blush, be this my shame,
That I no more revere His name.
5. Ashamed of Jesus? Yes, I may
When I've no guilt to wash away,
No tear to wipe, no joy to crave,
No fears to quell, no soul to save.
6. Till then--nor is the boasting vain--
Till then I boast a Savior slain.
And oh, may this my portion be,
That Christ is not ashamed of me!
All this thinking about rock stars made me think about something else. Something that may sound silly, but I wondered about it nonetheless. Why don't we as believers love Jesus and treat him as our rock star? Yea, yea I know - Jesus as a rock star - how crazy can you get? But think about it for a second. Why do we love celebrities? It 's not like they do anything for us, they only know us as one of the masses who love and adore them. And I seriously doubt that any one of them would be willing to give up their life for me.
But Jesus did. He gave up his life for me. I'm not just one of the masses to him. He knows me intimately and personally. He is, in every sense of the word, a true rock star. So why don't I jump up and down when I think about him? Why am I embarassed to even mention his name in cetain crowds? My rock star, Jesus.
Nope, I sure don't treat him like one.
And for now, maybe that's all right. He knows my weaknesses. He understands that I'm just dust and bones. And, most importantly, he's not ashamed of me. So I figure I shouldn't be ashamed of him either. In the church I grew up in we used to sing a hymn about this - about being ashamed of Jesus. Wish you could hear the tune- it's quite catchy. But, for now, take note of the lyrics, and try not to forget who the ultimate rock star is.
"Jesus! And Shall It Ever Be"by Joseph Grigg, c. 1722-1768
Altered by Benjamin Francis, 1734-1799
1. Jesus! and shall it ever be
A mortal man ashamed of Thee?
Ashamed of Thee, whom angels praise,
Whose glories shine through endless days?
2. Ashamed of Jesus? Sooner far
Let evening blush to own a star.
He sheds the beams of light divine
O'er this benighted soul of mine.
3. Ashamed of Jesus? Just as soon
Let midnight be ashamed of noon.
'Tis midnight with my soul till He,
Bright Morning Star, bids darkness flee.
4. Ashamed of Jesus, that dear Friend
On whom my hopes of heaven depend?
No; when I blush, be this my shame,
That I no more revere His name.
5. Ashamed of Jesus? Yes, I may
When I've no guilt to wash away,
No tear to wipe, no joy to crave,
No fears to quell, no soul to save.
6. Till then--nor is the boasting vain--
Till then I boast a Savior slain.
And oh, may this my portion be,
That Christ is not ashamed of me!
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
trees, tree, and more trees.
Thank you so much for all the prayers, love, and support. I am a lot more at peace with what's happening to mom. I know that is a direct result of prayers sent up on my family's behalf - so thanks again. Keep up the good work.:) Another reason I feel much more at peace comes from a verse I found in Isaiah.
Isaiah 61:3 . . . and provide for those who grieve in Zion to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor. (NIV)
Love that analogy - God's people as oaks; big, strong, difficult-to-bring-down oaks. There are a couple of psalms that I've noticed compare believers to trees. And while we're on the topic of trees, have you ever noticed how often a reference to trees is made in the bible? Okay, well it's not a lot. But it's significant enough that I thought I'd use it for today's entry.
Genesis 3:22 And the Lord God said, "The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.(NIV)
My husband is really into a show called The Living Dead. Basically, it's about zombies, but it's much more complex than that. Anyway, after he'd explained the plot to me I thought about what it would be like to live like that forever. All of us the "walking dead", which, when you think about it, that's what we are apart from Christ. All of us moaning, groaning, and walking around with no end in sight. And all I can say is - not me. No way would I want to live like that forever - in my imperfect body, with my imperfect bipolar brain. No, when I really think about it, I get why God wouldn't allow us to live forever in this state - the walking dead. Which leads me to the next verse about trees, or specifically about a tree - the one that changed everything.
Acts 5:30 The God of our fathers raised Jesus from the dead - whom you had killed by hanging him on a tree. (NIV)
Interesting that it all started with a tree - the tree of the knowledge of good and evil - the one no one was supposed to eat from. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After all, God has a way of taking something that's cursed and turning it into a thing of beauty - just like that tree that Jesus hung on. The tree that kept us from becoming the eternal "walking dead".
Fortunately for us, that's not the end of all this talk about trees. You see, there is a tree of life waiting for us. One that we will be able to eat from. (Revelation 2:7) One that will heal not only our bodies but also our souls. And the best part of eating from this tree of life? We'll be spending eternity in a perfect place, our paradise; no more dying, no more crying, no more pain, no more walking dead. What's more, this tree of life's leaves will be used to heal us like no one and nothing else can.
Rev 22:2-3 . . . On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any
curse . . . (NIV)
Yup, it all started with a tree, and, I guess you might say it all ended with one too. God has a way of using evil and turning it for good. So when I think about my mom, I feel a sense of peace. Yes, she's really suffering, yes, she has pain. But it will be temporary. And, because of Jesus she will spend her eternity not in a place of suffering, but in the beauty of paradise. So ends the story of the three trees, the tree that condemned us, the tree that redeemed us, and the tree that will give us eternal life - not the walking dead kind, but the joyful living kind. No more zombies. No more moaning and groaning. Which makes me happy, because, quite frankly, zombies have always given me the creeps.
Isaiah 61:3 . . . and provide for those who grieve in Zion to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the Lord for the display of his splendor. (NIV)
Love that analogy - God's people as oaks; big, strong, difficult-to-bring-down oaks. There are a couple of psalms that I've noticed compare believers to trees. And while we're on the topic of trees, have you ever noticed how often a reference to trees is made in the bible? Okay, well it's not a lot. But it's significant enough that I thought I'd use it for today's entry.
Genesis 3:22 And the Lord God said, "The man has now become like one of us, knowing good and evil. He must not be allowed to reach out his hand and take also from the tree of life and eat, and live forever.(NIV)
My husband is really into a show called The Living Dead. Basically, it's about zombies, but it's much more complex than that. Anyway, after he'd explained the plot to me I thought about what it would be like to live like that forever. All of us the "walking dead", which, when you think about it, that's what we are apart from Christ. All of us moaning, groaning, and walking around with no end in sight. And all I can say is - not me. No way would I want to live like that forever - in my imperfect body, with my imperfect bipolar brain. No, when I really think about it, I get why God wouldn't allow us to live forever in this state - the walking dead. Which leads me to the next verse about trees, or specifically about a tree - the one that changed everything.
Acts 5:30 The God of our fathers raised Jesus from the dead - whom you had killed by hanging him on a tree. (NIV)
Interesting that it all started with a tree - the tree of the knowledge of good and evil - the one no one was supposed to eat from. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. After all, God has a way of taking something that's cursed and turning it into a thing of beauty - just like that tree that Jesus hung on. The tree that kept us from becoming the eternal "walking dead".
Fortunately for us, that's not the end of all this talk about trees. You see, there is a tree of life waiting for us. One that we will be able to eat from. (Revelation 2:7) One that will heal not only our bodies but also our souls. And the best part of eating from this tree of life? We'll be spending eternity in a perfect place, our paradise; no more dying, no more crying, no more pain, no more walking dead. What's more, this tree of life's leaves will be used to heal us like no one and nothing else can.
Rev 22:2-3 . . . On each side of the river stood the tree of life, bearing twelve crops of fruit, yielding its fruit every month. And the leaves of the tree are for the healing of the nations. No longer will there be any
curse . . . (NIV)
Yup, it all started with a tree, and, I guess you might say it all ended with one too. God has a way of using evil and turning it for good. So when I think about my mom, I feel a sense of peace. Yes, she's really suffering, yes, she has pain. But it will be temporary. And, because of Jesus she will spend her eternity not in a place of suffering, but in the beauty of paradise. So ends the story of the three trees, the tree that condemned us, the tree that redeemed us, and the tree that will give us eternal life - not the walking dead kind, but the joyful living kind. No more zombies. No more moaning and groaning. Which makes me happy, because, quite frankly, zombies have always given me the creeps.
Monday, October 31, 2011
From a distance . . .
The Spirit of the sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners . . . Isaiah 61:1 (NIV)
So Mom is in a pretty bad place right now. She's struggling, she's suffering, she's ready to be done with life - at least this life. And it is so hard to watch her go through all of this. My prayers lately have been that God would take her quickly because I hate that she's hurting so much.
Today, as I was pondering these things, I came across the above verse. And I wondered to myself - Mom is brokenhearted, she is held captive by her sickness, she resides in a prison of pain, so what about her - why haven't any of these promises been fulfilled in her life? And I found my faith inclining towards doubt. I don't "see" God binding up my mother's broken heart, freeing her from captivity, or releasing her from darkness.
Why God, why becomes the prayer of my heart. I don't understand this and I just want it to stop - for her, for myself, for my family. But in the midst of all this pain, I remember something that Jesus once said. It's a kind of rallying cry for all of his saints.
In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. (John 16:33 NIV)
A big promise from a Man who knew struggle and suffering like no one else - who gave up his very life to bring an end to all of our struggles. But not yet . . . and that's the hard part isn't it. Waiting in faith to "see" this promise of captives being freed , prisoners being released, broken hearts being bound up. Yes, it all comes down to faith.
One of my favorite chapters of the Bible that addresses the faith that we must live by for now, the faith that helps us to "see" and believe what seems impossible is found in the book of Hebrews.
All these faithful ones died without receiving what God had promised them, but they saw it all from a distance and welcomed the promises of God. (Hebrews 11:13 NIV)
Our ancestors of faith didn't see the fulfillment of these promises while they walked upon this earth. They struggled. They suffered. They hurt. But, they kept the faith, and today, we are called upon to do the same. Believe in what we can't see, believe that the impossible is possible for our God. Believe that God truly loves us, truly has our best interests at heart - even when it all seems like a fraud.
I like to call it seeing with the "eyes" of faith. The faith that is sure of what it hopes for, certain of what it doesn't see. Life is a struggle, there's no question about it. But in the midst of our struggles let us keep our eyes of faith wide open. And when everything around is obscured by darkness, let us look to the Light of the World and press on to keep the faith.
So Mom is in a pretty bad place right now. She's struggling, she's suffering, she's ready to be done with life - at least this life. And it is so hard to watch her go through all of this. My prayers lately have been that God would take her quickly because I hate that she's hurting so much.
Today, as I was pondering these things, I came across the above verse. And I wondered to myself - Mom is brokenhearted, she is held captive by her sickness, she resides in a prison of pain, so what about her - why haven't any of these promises been fulfilled in her life? And I found my faith inclining towards doubt. I don't "see" God binding up my mother's broken heart, freeing her from captivity, or releasing her from darkness.
Why God, why becomes the prayer of my heart. I don't understand this and I just want it to stop - for her, for myself, for my family. But in the midst of all this pain, I remember something that Jesus once said. It's a kind of rallying cry for all of his saints.
In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. (John 16:33 NIV)
A big promise from a Man who knew struggle and suffering like no one else - who gave up his very life to bring an end to all of our struggles. But not yet . . . and that's the hard part isn't it. Waiting in faith to "see" this promise of captives being freed , prisoners being released, broken hearts being bound up. Yes, it all comes down to faith.
One of my favorite chapters of the Bible that addresses the faith that we must live by for now, the faith that helps us to "see" and believe what seems impossible is found in the book of Hebrews.
All these faithful ones died without receiving what God had promised them, but they saw it all from a distance and welcomed the promises of God. (Hebrews 11:13 NIV)
Our ancestors of faith didn't see the fulfillment of these promises while they walked upon this earth. They struggled. They suffered. They hurt. But, they kept the faith, and today, we are called upon to do the same. Believe in what we can't see, believe that the impossible is possible for our God. Believe that God truly loves us, truly has our best interests at heart - even when it all seems like a fraud.
I like to call it seeing with the "eyes" of faith. The faith that is sure of what it hopes for, certain of what it doesn't see. Life is a struggle, there's no question about it. But in the midst of our struggles let us keep our eyes of faith wide open. And when everything around is obscured by darkness, let us look to the Light of the World and press on to keep the faith.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Simplicity
sim·plic·i·ty
noun, plural -ties.
ɪ2. freedom from complexity, intricacy, or division into parts: an organism of great simplicity.
Found a great song that was once one of my favorites called Simple Heart by Geoff Moore. Been thinking about it a lot lately. Namely because, in this complicated world, it's good to remember what really matters.
And life in 2011 is pretty complicated, isn't it? Cell phones, ipads, internet, 24 hour news channels, activities galore, 40+ hour work weeks. Juggling all of it has become quite a challenge. And with the holidays just around the corner, life is about to get even more complicated.
John and I started a small group at our church. It's been a wonderful thing for us to be involved in. As we've tried to gain new members though, we've noticed something. A lot of families are so busy that giving up even two nights a month is too much to ask. People just feel overcommitted, and, when you're feeling that way, it's easy to forget what's really important.
I think Jesus understood the demands of a comlex world. Even in his time there were ways to make life a little bit more complicated then it needed to be. Look at poor Martha. (Luke 10: 38-42). All she wanted to do was serve a great meal to honor and provide for Jesus and his followers. Her heart was in the right place. But while she was working hard, she noticed something. Her sister, Mary, wasn't doing a thing to help. Good old Mary, just sitting at Jesus' feet listening to what he taught. How annoying! How unfair! Well, Martha knew that if anyone could set her sister straight it was going to be Jesus.
Luke 11: 40 . . . Martha was worrying over over the big dinner she was preparing. She came to Jesus and said, "Lord, doesn't it seem unfair to you that my sister just sits here while I do all the work? Tell her to come and help me." (NLT)
Jesus' answer?
vs. 41 My dear Martha, you are so upset over all these details! There is really only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it - and I won't take it away from her."
I know I've shared the Mary/Martha story before, but I think its worth repeating especially with the holidays coming on. From finding the perfect gift for everyone, to baking all the Christmas goodies, to mailing out the Christmas cards on time, the month of December can be a cruel taskmaster. It's like trying to stuff eleven months of work into 25 days.
But does it really have to be so complex? In the grand scheme of things, does it really matter if I give Uncle Herman a green tie or a blue one? Do I have to stand in line for hours ensuring that my kids get the latest video game? Do I have to have a four course meal on the most important day of the year.? All of these things are nice, yes. But are they necessary, really necessary?
Here's my encouragement and challenge for the upcoming season. Do some things, your favorite things, but find a way to simplify a bit more. Find a way to let your heart be quiet for awhile. Make time to read the story that all this hub-bub of Christmas is supposed to be about. Find a way to make this holiday season just a little bit less complex, a little more simple.
sim·ple (s
m
p
l) adj. sim·pler, sim·plest
1. Having or composed of only one thing, element, or part.
After all, the most important part of Christmas, the simple part, has nothing to do with meals, presents, parties, or letters. No, the most important part has to do with that tiny baby lying in a manger. He is the "thing, element, part" of the season that will never be taken from us. Mary had discovered it. Maybe it's time we discover it too.
After all, the most important part of Christmas, the simple part, has nothing to do with meals, presents, parties, or letters. No, the most important part has to do with that tiny baby lying in a manger. He is the "thing, element, part" of the season that will never be taken from us. Mary had discovered it. Maybe it's time we discover it too.
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
crazy bunny trails
So mom's settled in her new home. Although it's not what she's used to, she did admit to me one day that she understands now why she had to make the move. But why did she wait so long to move to this place; a place she would have enjoyed so much better when she was healthier. Well, you can chalk it up to one thing - stubborness. And the only reason I can say that is because the stubborn gene lies dormant in my heart as well. It comes out and rears its ugly head now and again, and, when it does, my husband gleefully points out that I'm 'being just as hard headed as the rest of my family.' Boy, I hate it when he's right.
Stubborness does have its bad points I will admit. Holding on tightly, clinging to the way life is now. Resisting the change that might make all the difference in the world - that might, if you let it, actually be a good thing - even a great thing in your life.
I HATE change. My resistance to it is demonstrated in many ways. I always order the same drink when I go to Starbucks - tall caramel machiatto - decaff, with whip cream on top. When I see a seasonal drink like a pumpkin spice latte, I don't even bat an eye. Why mess with a good thing? I shop at the same grocery store every week - weaving the same path in and out of the aisles; vegetables at the front, bread and cereal in the middle, ice cream at the very back. In fact, when the store makes changes, I get a bit miffed. Don't mess with my routine - you might regret it.
My husband is so the opposite of me. Sometimes it frustrates me when he decides to take a shortcut through a neighborhood - a deviation from the same walking trail I follow every day, or when he takes a different route home from church. 'What are you doing?' I ask, 'This isn't the way home?' On more than one occassion, I've had the humbling experience of realizing that life doesn't always have to follow my "normal". Changing things up a bit can be kinda fun, and, sometimes, even necessary.
After my husband began his new job, we started looking at houses that would be closer to his workplace. In fact, we began thinking about building a new home. So, one weekend we met with a realtor to begin the process. He had an estimate all laid out for us, we talked about features we wanted, and discussed the costs involved. We were on the verge of signing a deal. But, for some reason, we decided not to do it that day. After we'd met with the guy, my husband mentioned that he wanted to look at some existing houses.
On the drive over, I made the comment that I wished he would 'stop taking us on all these little bunny trails.' We'd made our decision, right? Why change things up now? Well, I choked on every word when we stepped into the house that was to become ours. We fell in love with it on the spot - both of us. And let me tell you, my husband did not hesitate to point out that following this bunny trail hadn't been such a bad idea.
So sometimes, I guess, change is a good thing. And maybe following those bunny trails every once in awhile is good for me. I do hafta admit that it gets boring ordering the same drink, walking the same trail, shopping at the same store week after week. Sometimes, things gotta get mixed up. So, I'll try a different latte next week. And maybe I'll deviate from my walking trail every few days. I might even dare to go to a new grocery store this week. Who knows, I might find myself enjoying the change of scenery. Darn, bunny trails . . .
Ecc 3:11 [God] has made everything (even change) beautiful in its time.
Stubborness does have its bad points I will admit. Holding on tightly, clinging to the way life is now. Resisting the change that might make all the difference in the world - that might, if you let it, actually be a good thing - even a great thing in your life.
I HATE change. My resistance to it is demonstrated in many ways. I always order the same drink when I go to Starbucks - tall caramel machiatto - decaff, with whip cream on top. When I see a seasonal drink like a pumpkin spice latte, I don't even bat an eye. Why mess with a good thing? I shop at the same grocery store every week - weaving the same path in and out of the aisles; vegetables at the front, bread and cereal in the middle, ice cream at the very back. In fact, when the store makes changes, I get a bit miffed. Don't mess with my routine - you might regret it.
My husband is so the opposite of me. Sometimes it frustrates me when he decides to take a shortcut through a neighborhood - a deviation from the same walking trail I follow every day, or when he takes a different route home from church. 'What are you doing?' I ask, 'This isn't the way home?' On more than one occassion, I've had the humbling experience of realizing that life doesn't always have to follow my "normal". Changing things up a bit can be kinda fun, and, sometimes, even necessary.
After my husband began his new job, we started looking at houses that would be closer to his workplace. In fact, we began thinking about building a new home. So, one weekend we met with a realtor to begin the process. He had an estimate all laid out for us, we talked about features we wanted, and discussed the costs involved. We were on the verge of signing a deal. But, for some reason, we decided not to do it that day. After we'd met with the guy, my husband mentioned that he wanted to look at some existing houses.
On the drive over, I made the comment that I wished he would 'stop taking us on all these little bunny trails.' We'd made our decision, right? Why change things up now? Well, I choked on every word when we stepped into the house that was to become ours. We fell in love with it on the spot - both of us. And let me tell you, my husband did not hesitate to point out that following this bunny trail hadn't been such a bad idea.
So sometimes, I guess, change is a good thing. And maybe following those bunny trails every once in awhile is good for me. I do hafta admit that it gets boring ordering the same drink, walking the same trail, shopping at the same store week after week. Sometimes, things gotta get mixed up. So, I'll try a different latte next week. And maybe I'll deviate from my walking trail every few days. I might even dare to go to a new grocery store this week. Who knows, I might find myself enjoying the change of scenery. Darn, bunny trails . . .
Ecc 3:11 [God] has made everything (even change) beautiful in its time.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
a little bit of crying
Watching my little boy ride his bike without training wheels took me back today. There he was riding down the street, his dad right beside him cheering him on. Seems like just yesterday that child learning to ride without training wheels was me. I still remember my dad running behind me holding me up until I learned to balance on my own. In fact, without my knowledge, he let go as soon as he thought I "had" it. I kept pedaling right along and when I looked back for just a moment he was gone. I was doing it!
Family has been a big focus of my heart lately. As I've shared my mom's kidney is failing and she may decide to forego dialysis. She's tired she tells us - in every true sense of the word. She's been so sick for so long - I think she's ready to be done with all of it. While I hate the fact that we will lose her more quickly, I completely understand her reasoning. This woman has had quite the life - too much of it spent in hospitals, with doctor's poking and prodding her, taking more medications than your average person. She's ready to go home - to her real home - the one where she won't hurt, suffer, feel sick again. And I can't say I blame her.
But that means losing my other parent - the one who in some way's has become my best friend. Up until recently, we talked on the phone nearly every day. Now, she barely has the energy to get out of her pajamas and get herself "ready". I've been thinking lately about how she'll soon be gone, and what will I do then. Who will I call to tell about my day? Who will be there to listen to my joys and struggles as a mom? There to complain to? To celebrate with? To offer words of wisdom and encouragement?
Having my own family does help ease this burden of sadness. I have my little ones to think of, to spend time with, to take care of. They are my family and in so many ways I see the connection to my past in their little faces, mannerisms, looks, ideas. They are my connection to my mom, my dad, grandparents, uncles, aunts cousins. What a miracle that they are their own individual beings, and yet, they have little bits of family etched all over them. They are mirrors into my past - a glimpse of what was and will always be real to me - my family then, and my family now.
It's fun to see my son laugh, and in that laugh see my dad's smile. Or to cuddle with my sick daughter and tell her what my mom used to do to make me feel better. Fun to tell stories to my little ones about the times I got in trouble, or the vacations we took, or the fun we had together as a family. My children love to hear these stories, and I love to tell them - in fact I need to tell them.
My childhood home is on the market. This week I go back to my hometown to help clean the house out and move my mom to an elderly living center. It's hard to say goodbye when I have so many good memories of that house. It's even more difficult to watch my mom say goodbye to the only home she felt was truly her home.
Forgive me for rambling. Today I just needed to write down my feelings without hesitation or reservation. Today, I needed to let my soul do a little bit of crying.
Family has been a big focus of my heart lately. As I've shared my mom's kidney is failing and she may decide to forego dialysis. She's tired she tells us - in every true sense of the word. She's been so sick for so long - I think she's ready to be done with all of it. While I hate the fact that we will lose her more quickly, I completely understand her reasoning. This woman has had quite the life - too much of it spent in hospitals, with doctor's poking and prodding her, taking more medications than your average person. She's ready to go home - to her real home - the one where she won't hurt, suffer, feel sick again. And I can't say I blame her.
But that means losing my other parent - the one who in some way's has become my best friend. Up until recently, we talked on the phone nearly every day. Now, she barely has the energy to get out of her pajamas and get herself "ready". I've been thinking lately about how she'll soon be gone, and what will I do then. Who will I call to tell about my day? Who will be there to listen to my joys and struggles as a mom? There to complain to? To celebrate with? To offer words of wisdom and encouragement?
Having my own family does help ease this burden of sadness. I have my little ones to think of, to spend time with, to take care of. They are my family and in so many ways I see the connection to my past in their little faces, mannerisms, looks, ideas. They are my connection to my mom, my dad, grandparents, uncles, aunts cousins. What a miracle that they are their own individual beings, and yet, they have little bits of family etched all over them. They are mirrors into my past - a glimpse of what was and will always be real to me - my family then, and my family now.
It's fun to see my son laugh, and in that laugh see my dad's smile. Or to cuddle with my sick daughter and tell her what my mom used to do to make me feel better. Fun to tell stories to my little ones about the times I got in trouble, or the vacations we took, or the fun we had together as a family. My children love to hear these stories, and I love to tell them - in fact I need to tell them.
My childhood home is on the market. This week I go back to my hometown to help clean the house out and move my mom to an elderly living center. It's hard to say goodbye when I have so many good memories of that house. It's even more difficult to watch my mom say goodbye to the only home she felt was truly her home.
Forgive me for rambling. Today I just needed to write down my feelings without hesitation or reservation. Today, I needed to let my soul do a little bit of crying.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
forgiveness is a tough thing to live out
Thinking about my dad today. He died of a massive heart attack over five years ago. When I think back to my childhood and early and late teens - Dad was my hero. I wanted to follow him wherever he went. Whether that was going to the hospital where he worked, or helping him do a special project around the house, or even going out to a field at 5am in the morning to hunt doves. Yes sir, Dad was mighty great in my eyes. I even told him that when I grew up I wanted to be a man like him.
Some of my best memories of Dad are when I would go with him to the hospital on weekends. Dad was a physical therapist, and his office had so many cool "toys". These included crutches and wheelchairs just to name a few. Playing with the equipment wasn't even the best part. No, the best part was watching my dad interact with his patients. He had this way of joking around with them, putting them at ease. He was so personable, so friendly, people couldn't help but like him.
A memory I have that isn't quite as pleasant is the time I went hunting with him. It was dove hunting season and, for some reason, when dad asked me to go, I decided it would be fun. Well, if you can call laying in a field at 5am in the morning, peeing behind trees every 30 minutes, (hey, I had to drink something to stay warm) and watching poor helpless birds fall from the sky then yes, I had fun. But my sensitive side couldn't take the carnage that was happening all around me. I even had this fleeting thought that I should try mouth to beak CPR to resuscitate one of the poor things. Needless to say, I never went hunting with my dad again.
Yes, I have many good memories of my dad. Unfortunately, things changed quickly once I was out of the house. A few years after I graduated from high school, my dad left my mom. He had formed a relationship with another woman. I was heartbroken. How could my dad, my hero, leave my mom like that?
One of the first holidays we "celebrated" after he'd left the house was Easter. It was just my mom and me so the house felt really quiet and empty. Hoping to pass the time, I decided to look through some of our old family photos. Taking time to go through them, sifting through old memories and pictures, was a lot of fun. Until I came to a photo of my family and me. It had been taken my junior year of high school. When I saw the picture, I was overcome with grief and began to cry. Mom came into the room and all I could choke out was "Why did he leave us, Mom? Why did he leave us?" She just held me tightly as we cried together over the loss of our family.
After that, I spent a lot of time stewing over what had happened. I was very bitter towards my dad and I wasn't afraid to tell him exactly what I thought of him and his new "girlfriend". His relationship with this woman ended rather quickly. But the bitterness I felt in my heart lived on. Until one day I realized that what I was struggling with wasn't hurting him as much as it was me. From that point on, I made up my mind to forgive my dad. I even wrote him a letter telling him as much. But the funny thing about forgiveness is that sometimes it takes time til you really mean it. Yes, I had made the conscious effort to let go of my feelings of anger. But, it was a daily battle to forgive in the truest sense of the word. It didn't come all at once.
Once I was married, I found that even though I'd forgiven my dad, I hadn't really worked at choosing to love him. To work on having a relationship that was relatively healthy was difficult for me. There were times when he would talk about a new woman in his life. Whenever that topic came up, I usually left my poor husband holding the phone. My dad would wonder why I wasn't talking, and my husband would have to explain that I'd left the room.
After my dad passed away I did struggle with some regret. I had forgiven him, yes, but I hadn't worked on having a relationship with him. In some ways, I was still really angry with him. When he talked about other women in his life, I just couldn't bear to hear it. Looking back, I know that I had forgiven my dad on some levels. But when it came right down to it, I didn't let that forgiveness guide me back into having a relationship with him.
The thing is, now it's too late. And I guess the biggest reason I'm writing this is to encourage you, any of you, to forgive when you have the chance - before it's too late and you can't reclaim the relationship you once had. One final thought. This comes from a facebook friend, Betty Hansen. She posted some advice her mother once gave her, "The vessel that holds the acid is eaten on worse than the vessel it is poured upon." 'My mother was a very wise woman.' Indeed.
Some of my best memories of Dad are when I would go with him to the hospital on weekends. Dad was a physical therapist, and his office had so many cool "toys". These included crutches and wheelchairs just to name a few. Playing with the equipment wasn't even the best part. No, the best part was watching my dad interact with his patients. He had this way of joking around with them, putting them at ease. He was so personable, so friendly, people couldn't help but like him.
A memory I have that isn't quite as pleasant is the time I went hunting with him. It was dove hunting season and, for some reason, when dad asked me to go, I decided it would be fun. Well, if you can call laying in a field at 5am in the morning, peeing behind trees every 30 minutes, (hey, I had to drink something to stay warm) and watching poor helpless birds fall from the sky then yes, I had fun. But my sensitive side couldn't take the carnage that was happening all around me. I even had this fleeting thought that I should try mouth to beak CPR to resuscitate one of the poor things. Needless to say, I never went hunting with my dad again.
Yes, I have many good memories of my dad. Unfortunately, things changed quickly once I was out of the house. A few years after I graduated from high school, my dad left my mom. He had formed a relationship with another woman. I was heartbroken. How could my dad, my hero, leave my mom like that?
One of the first holidays we "celebrated" after he'd left the house was Easter. It was just my mom and me so the house felt really quiet and empty. Hoping to pass the time, I decided to look through some of our old family photos. Taking time to go through them, sifting through old memories and pictures, was a lot of fun. Until I came to a photo of my family and me. It had been taken my junior year of high school. When I saw the picture, I was overcome with grief and began to cry. Mom came into the room and all I could choke out was "Why did he leave us, Mom? Why did he leave us?" She just held me tightly as we cried together over the loss of our family.
After that, I spent a lot of time stewing over what had happened. I was very bitter towards my dad and I wasn't afraid to tell him exactly what I thought of him and his new "girlfriend". His relationship with this woman ended rather quickly. But the bitterness I felt in my heart lived on. Until one day I realized that what I was struggling with wasn't hurting him as much as it was me. From that point on, I made up my mind to forgive my dad. I even wrote him a letter telling him as much. But the funny thing about forgiveness is that sometimes it takes time til you really mean it. Yes, I had made the conscious effort to let go of my feelings of anger. But, it was a daily battle to forgive in the truest sense of the word. It didn't come all at once.
Once I was married, I found that even though I'd forgiven my dad, I hadn't really worked at choosing to love him. To work on having a relationship that was relatively healthy was difficult for me. There were times when he would talk about a new woman in his life. Whenever that topic came up, I usually left my poor husband holding the phone. My dad would wonder why I wasn't talking, and my husband would have to explain that I'd left the room.
After my dad passed away I did struggle with some regret. I had forgiven him, yes, but I hadn't worked on having a relationship with him. In some ways, I was still really angry with him. When he talked about other women in his life, I just couldn't bear to hear it. Looking back, I know that I had forgiven my dad on some levels. But when it came right down to it, I didn't let that forgiveness guide me back into having a relationship with him.
The thing is, now it's too late. And I guess the biggest reason I'm writing this is to encourage you, any of you, to forgive when you have the chance - before it's too late and you can't reclaim the relationship you once had. One final thought. This comes from a facebook friend, Betty Hansen. She posted some advice her mother once gave her, "The vessel that holds the acid is eaten on worse than the vessel it is poured upon." 'My mother was a very wise woman.' Indeed.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
what's really safe . . .
Wanted to write about my mom today but couldn't find the quote I was going to start out with. So, I'll save that topic for another day. Just had a cousin of John's stay with us for a couple of days. He's a great guy. We had lots of fun and conversations about life, ourselves, and how we fit into the grand scheme of things.
Which brings me to today's topic. I wanted to share one of the analogies that Lysa Terkeurst makes in the book Becoming More than a Good Bible Study Girl. It was one of the best parts of the lesson for me because it was simple yet powerful.
Think about your life as the planting of a seed . We all know that, eventually, a seed grows up and becomes something lovely. But the process of becoming that beautiful flower, or plant, or shrub is oftentimes painful. Like when the seed gets pulled out of its safe little package and is pushed down into the muck and mire - to a deep dark place where it's not even noticed. Then, horror of horrors, the seed is watered and begins to disintegrate. Seems like the end of everything for that poor little seed, or is it?
John 12:24 The truth is, a kernel of wheat must be planted in the soil - Unless it dies it will be alone-a single seed. But its death will produce many new kernels - a plentiful harvest of new lives. (NLT)
Slowly but surely what pops up out of the soil is the beginning of something beautiful. A flowering plant, or tree, or flower rising up out of the death of something else.
Even though the "safe place" for the seed was its packet, think of how much it would have missed if it would have stayed where it felt secure. Granted, it would have survived if it remained there. But, it would never have felt the soil or received the water to grown and blossom into what it was always meant to be.
So, I guess what I came away with from this study was to be more bold - less afraid. Pray for things to be hard, and, in that difficulty, blossom and flower into the girl I was meant to be.
What about you? What's your "safe" place? Is it holding you back from being all that you were created to be? Yes, playing it safe, seems, well, safe. But if you don't experience the dark places or the nourishing rains, you will never know the joy of bursting out of the ground, basking in the sun, and growing to be so much more than you ever expected to be.
Which brings me to today's topic. I wanted to share one of the analogies that Lysa Terkeurst makes in the book Becoming More than a Good Bible Study Girl. It was one of the best parts of the lesson for me because it was simple yet powerful.
Think about your life as the planting of a seed . We all know that, eventually, a seed grows up and becomes something lovely. But the process of becoming that beautiful flower, or plant, or shrub is oftentimes painful. Like when the seed gets pulled out of its safe little package and is pushed down into the muck and mire - to a deep dark place where it's not even noticed. Then, horror of horrors, the seed is watered and begins to disintegrate. Seems like the end of everything for that poor little seed, or is it?
John 12:24 The truth is, a kernel of wheat must be planted in the soil - Unless it dies it will be alone-a single seed. But its death will produce many new kernels - a plentiful harvest of new lives. (NLT)
Slowly but surely what pops up out of the soil is the beginning of something beautiful. A flowering plant, or tree, or flower rising up out of the death of something else.
Even though the "safe place" for the seed was its packet, think of how much it would have missed if it would have stayed where it felt secure. Granted, it would have survived if it remained there. But, it would never have felt the soil or received the water to grown and blossom into what it was always meant to be.
So, I guess what I came away with from this study was to be more bold - less afraid. Pray for things to be hard, and, in that difficulty, blossom and flower into the girl I was meant to be.
What about you? What's your "safe" place? Is it holding you back from being all that you were created to be? Yes, playing it safe, seems, well, safe. But if you don't experience the dark places or the nourishing rains, you will never know the joy of bursting out of the ground, basking in the sun, and growing to be so much more than you ever expected to be.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
crazy stuff
I bought a shirt not too long ago. It was perfect, exactly what I'd been looking for. Took it home, wore it a couple of times and, to my dismay, splattered tomato sauce all over it one day while I was canning. I put stainwash on it, put it through the washer a few times, and, lo and behold, the stain did not come out. Bummer. I hate it when that happens - particularly to clothes that are my favorites.
Have you ever had that happen to you? You buy something that's brand new, and, without fail it gets dinged up, or scratched, or it falls in the toilet, or gets stains on it that just won't come out. Why does that have to happen to all of our stuff? I don't know about you, but I hate it that most of my stuff, okay, all of it eventually turns into junk.
The older I get the more I begin to realize something - nothing on this earth is going to last forever. Nothing. Not my favorite shirt, not our big screen tv, our mixer, our washer, dryer whatever it is that I treasure, none of it will last. Eventually, even my favorites, are destined to be another big pile of junk in the nearest landfill.
So why do I bring this up? Well, I'm glad you asked, because I'll share my thoughts about all of our stuff - the stuff that doesn't last. Jesus knew a little bit about "stuff". Knowing that our treasures are important to us, he preached a pretty good sermon on the topic. But, he didn't tell us to buy a lifetime warranty for our favorite things. He didn't tell us to stick our treasures in a sealed container. Nor did he tell us to keep our couches covered, our carpets cleaned, and set 24 four hour surveilance on all of our things. No, this is what Jesus had to say about all of our worldly goods.
Do not store up for yourselves treasure on earth where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasure in heaven where moth and rust do not destroy and where thieves do not break in and steal. Matthew 6: 19-20 (NIV)
I guess Jesus did know a thing or two about our stuff. So what exactly are we supposed to store up? Treasures in heaven; what are those? Well, I know it ain't my favorite chair; pretty sure I won't be taking that to heaven.
So what lasts? Here's what I think. The stuff that lasts are the treasures that are invisible to the human eye. Want some examples? The love between a dad and his son. The sacrifice a soldier makes to defend his country. The bake sale funds that are donated to a local food bank. The conversations I have with my mom over the phone. These are the treasures I should be storing up. Because all of these have something in common - they demonstrate the most important treasure of all - love.
Loving my neighbor, my family, my friends, those are treasures that last. I can always go out and buy a new shirt, but how many more times will I get to chat with my mom on the phone? I could clean the house til it's immaculate, but how many more times will my three year old ask me to play ponies with her. Those kind words, those deeds that go unnoticed, those memories - all of them are lasting treasures. Real ones. Treasures that you can take to the bank.
Stuff is nice. But if you're only storing up treasure on earth, not only will you eventually lose it all, but you'll have missed out on the most important treasures. The ones that last.
Have you ever had that happen to you? You buy something that's brand new, and, without fail it gets dinged up, or scratched, or it falls in the toilet, or gets stains on it that just won't come out. Why does that have to happen to all of our stuff? I don't know about you, but I hate it that most of my stuff, okay, all of it eventually turns into junk.
The older I get the more I begin to realize something - nothing on this earth is going to last forever. Nothing. Not my favorite shirt, not our big screen tv, our mixer, our washer, dryer whatever it is that I treasure, none of it will last. Eventually, even my favorites, are destined to be another big pile of junk in the nearest landfill.
So why do I bring this up? Well, I'm glad you asked, because I'll share my thoughts about all of our stuff - the stuff that doesn't last. Jesus knew a little bit about "stuff". Knowing that our treasures are important to us, he preached a pretty good sermon on the topic. But, he didn't tell us to buy a lifetime warranty for our favorite things. He didn't tell us to stick our treasures in a sealed container. Nor did he tell us to keep our couches covered, our carpets cleaned, and set 24 four hour surveilance on all of our things. No, this is what Jesus had to say about all of our worldly goods.
Do not store up for yourselves treasure on earth where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasure in heaven where moth and rust do not destroy and where thieves do not break in and steal. Matthew 6: 19-20 (NIV)
I guess Jesus did know a thing or two about our stuff. So what exactly are we supposed to store up? Treasures in heaven; what are those? Well, I know it ain't my favorite chair; pretty sure I won't be taking that to heaven.
So what lasts? Here's what I think. The stuff that lasts are the treasures that are invisible to the human eye. Want some examples? The love between a dad and his son. The sacrifice a soldier makes to defend his country. The bake sale funds that are donated to a local food bank. The conversations I have with my mom over the phone. These are the treasures I should be storing up. Because all of these have something in common - they demonstrate the most important treasure of all - love.
Loving my neighbor, my family, my friends, those are treasures that last. I can always go out and buy a new shirt, but how many more times will I get to chat with my mom on the phone? I could clean the house til it's immaculate, but how many more times will my three year old ask me to play ponies with her. Those kind words, those deeds that go unnoticed, those memories - all of them are lasting treasures. Real ones. Treasures that you can take to the bank.
Stuff is nice. But if you're only storing up treasure on earth, not only will you eventually lose it all, but you'll have missed out on the most important treasures. The ones that last.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
There is a fundamental need inside most girls to be liked. We want some people of the female variety to totally get us and walk away thinking we are pretty neat.
~Lysa Terkeurst from Becoming More Than a Good Bible Study Girl
I can completely relate to what this author is saying. I find my identity in what people think about me. If I can tell a really good joke, or write a good story, or cook the perfect dinner then I'm worthwhile. After all, what others think of me is sooo much more important than what God thinks. Hmmmm, does something seem wrong with this picture? Believing I'm only as good as what I can accomplish, or what others think of me, falls pretty far short of the way God wants me to view myself.
Remember the kids' book by Max Lucado; You are Special. The creatures in this story are called Wemmicks. The Wemmicks like to give out stickers, and their "system" of giving them out works like this; if you've done something special, something amazing then other Wemmick's give you star stickers. However, like the character Punchinello, if you're a complete dud at mostly everything you do, you get dot stickers, lots and lots of them. One day Punchinello meets someone who doesn't have any stickers - dots or stars. Punchinello is completely fascinated by this Wemmick. Why don't the stickers stick to her? Her response is simple and sweet. She has learned to care more about what the Maker thinks of her. What other Wemmicks think about her simply doesn't matter.
The story goes on and one day Punchinello decides to visit the Maker for himself. At first when he enters the workshop Punchinello is scared. The Maker is very big and powerful. What will he think of such a failure? But the Maker welcomes Punchinello warmly - telling him how much he's been hoping to see him. During their visit, the Maker goes on to tell Punchinello that he loves him dearly, and, that his opinion of Punchinello is the only one that matters. When Punchinello leaves the workshop that day he says to himself, 'I think the Maker really means what he's saying. And, just in that moment, a dot sticker falls off of him.
Okay, so how does this relate to our lives? Well, there just so happens to be the perfect psalm to address the issue of what really makes us worthy. Psalm 139, one of my favorites, tells us that we are valued and treasured by God, not because of how much other people like us, or because of what we can do. On the contrary, God loves us because we are his prized creation. He loves us because he made us, and, God don't make junk.
Psalm 139:13-14 You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous-and how well I know it. (NLT)
A great psalm, worth reading the whole thing. So, I guess what I'm learning can best be summed up in the words of Lysa Terkeurst, "No amount of worldly achievement whisks away insecurities and that fundamental desire to be accepted. I know. I've tried." I think I'll quit trying to gain acceptance from others and focus on the One who loves me unconditionally. After all, He knows me better than anyone else; He's the One who made me.
~Lysa Terkeurst from Becoming More Than a Good Bible Study Girl
I can completely relate to what this author is saying. I find my identity in what people think about me. If I can tell a really good joke, or write a good story, or cook the perfect dinner then I'm worthwhile. After all, what others think of me is sooo much more important than what God thinks. Hmmmm, does something seem wrong with this picture? Believing I'm only as good as what I can accomplish, or what others think of me, falls pretty far short of the way God wants me to view myself.
Remember the kids' book by Max Lucado; You are Special. The creatures in this story are called Wemmicks. The Wemmicks like to give out stickers, and their "system" of giving them out works like this; if you've done something special, something amazing then other Wemmick's give you star stickers. However, like the character Punchinello, if you're a complete dud at mostly everything you do, you get dot stickers, lots and lots of them. One day Punchinello meets someone who doesn't have any stickers - dots or stars. Punchinello is completely fascinated by this Wemmick. Why don't the stickers stick to her? Her response is simple and sweet. She has learned to care more about what the Maker thinks of her. What other Wemmicks think about her simply doesn't matter.
The story goes on and one day Punchinello decides to visit the Maker for himself. At first when he enters the workshop Punchinello is scared. The Maker is very big and powerful. What will he think of such a failure? But the Maker welcomes Punchinello warmly - telling him how much he's been hoping to see him. During their visit, the Maker goes on to tell Punchinello that he loves him dearly, and, that his opinion of Punchinello is the only one that matters. When Punchinello leaves the workshop that day he says to himself, 'I think the Maker really means what he's saying. And, just in that moment, a dot sticker falls off of him.
Okay, so how does this relate to our lives? Well, there just so happens to be the perfect psalm to address the issue of what really makes us worthy. Psalm 139, one of my favorites, tells us that we are valued and treasured by God, not because of how much other people like us, or because of what we can do. On the contrary, God loves us because we are his prized creation. He loves us because he made us, and, God don't make junk.
Psalm 139:13-14 You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body and knit me together in my mother's womb. Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex! Your workmanship is marvelous-and how well I know it. (NLT)
A great psalm, worth reading the whole thing. So, I guess what I'm learning can best be summed up in the words of Lysa Terkeurst, "No amount of worldly achievement whisks away insecurities and that fundamental desire to be accepted. I know. I've tried." I think I'll quit trying to gain acceptance from others and focus on the One who loves me unconditionally. After all, He knows me better than anyone else; He's the One who made me.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Entanglement
Hebrews 12:1 Therefore . . . let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.
When I used to read the above verse from Hebrews, I thought that to "throw off sin" meant to avoid sinning altogether. And, I think that, to a degree, that is what the above verse is saying. But, I am also thinking there may be a deeper meaning to it. Another picture comes to mind. I'm wearing a heavy coat, the "coat of guilt" and I can't seem to shake it off. The problem is that even when I've confessed a sin, I keep "wearing" the guilt. Much like a winter coat, it is heavy and cumbersome. I struggle to get it off, but it entangles me to the point that I can barely walk, let alone run.
Hebrews 12:2 Let us fix our eyes on Jesus the author and perfecter of our faith . . .
The good news is that when I take my eyes off of my guilt and shame, when I look up, I see Jesus leading me. "Fix your eyes on me," he seems to be saying. "Let the sin go. Let the shame go. Let the guilt go. Because of the price I paid, your sins are forgiven. Live out that truth." These words encourage me to take off my "coat of guilt." It's much too heavy to be running in anyway.
When I used to read the above verse from Hebrews, I thought that to "throw off sin" meant to avoid sinning altogether. And, I think that, to a degree, that is what the above verse is saying. But, I am also thinking there may be a deeper meaning to it. Another picture comes to mind. I'm wearing a heavy coat, the "coat of guilt" and I can't seem to shake it off. The problem is that even when I've confessed a sin, I keep "wearing" the guilt. Much like a winter coat, it is heavy and cumbersome. I struggle to get it off, but it entangles me to the point that I can barely walk, let alone run.
Hebrews 12:2 Let us fix our eyes on Jesus the author and perfecter of our faith . . .
The good news is that when I take my eyes off of my guilt and shame, when I look up, I see Jesus leading me. "Fix your eyes on me," he seems to be saying. "Let the sin go. Let the shame go. Let the guilt go. Because of the price I paid, your sins are forgiven. Live out that truth." These words encourage me to take off my "coat of guilt." It's much too heavy to be running in anyway.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
crazy honesty
Can I just say that I do not feel like writing today? It's one of those "ball-and-chain" days. Everytime I go to do something, I feel that weight of depression bringing me down. Anyway, since I'm not that interested in writing today this post may be a total flop. Oh well, such is life.
On a side note I wanted to thank all of you for giving me so much encouragement. It really means a lot to hear that what I've written has helped you, or given you courage, or reminded you that you are not alone.
Something I've been thinking about lately - I am terrible at being frank with a person even if they ask me to be totally honest. I'm afraid that if I speak my mind, I'll hurt their feelings, or they won't like me anymore. Sounds pretty junior high-ish, I know. But it's a real problem for me; one that I wish I could overcome.
Proverbs 27:6 Faithful are the wounds of a friend but an enemy multiplies kisses. (NLT)
I love this proverb. It reminds me that if I am truly going to be a good friend, then I need to be honest in my relationships. Telling a friend what I think they want to hear doesn't do any good. And, according to the above verse, it actually makes me an enemy. After all, if a good friend was about ready to jump off a cliff, I'd stop them in a heartbeat. Why is it so hard to be honest with them when they're figuratively "jumping of a cliff?"
Proverbs 27:17 As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another. (NIV)
According to the Bible, this is how a relationship is supposed to work. Like iron sharpening iron, true friends should be there not only to encourage and love one another, but also to intervene when one of them seems to be heading down the wrong path. If we go on pretending like everything is great, we're bound to be less than honest with the person we call "friend." The few times I've been completely transparent with someone, I've found that our relationship becomes stronger, more authentic, more honest.
But I fall far short of this charge to be honest. When you've been a people pleaser like I have for most of my life, changing your ways doesn't come easy. But I truly want to get there, and I know that only God can sanctify me in this area of life. I think if I stopped being afraid of hurting someone's feelings I might actually be able to do something good for them; not crushing their spirit, but gently pointing the way that I, as their friend, know they should go.
On a side note I wanted to thank all of you for giving me so much encouragement. It really means a lot to hear that what I've written has helped you, or given you courage, or reminded you that you are not alone.
Something I've been thinking about lately - I am terrible at being frank with a person even if they ask me to be totally honest. I'm afraid that if I speak my mind, I'll hurt their feelings, or they won't like me anymore. Sounds pretty junior high-ish, I know. But it's a real problem for me; one that I wish I could overcome.
Proverbs 27:6 Faithful are the wounds of a friend but an enemy multiplies kisses. (NLT)
I love this proverb. It reminds me that if I am truly going to be a good friend, then I need to be honest in my relationships. Telling a friend what I think they want to hear doesn't do any good. And, according to the above verse, it actually makes me an enemy. After all, if a good friend was about ready to jump off a cliff, I'd stop them in a heartbeat. Why is it so hard to be honest with them when they're figuratively "jumping of a cliff?"
Proverbs 27:17 As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another. (NIV)
According to the Bible, this is how a relationship is supposed to work. Like iron sharpening iron, true friends should be there not only to encourage and love one another, but also to intervene when one of them seems to be heading down the wrong path. If we go on pretending like everything is great, we're bound to be less than honest with the person we call "friend." The few times I've been completely transparent with someone, I've found that our relationship becomes stronger, more authentic, more honest.
But I fall far short of this charge to be honest. When you've been a people pleaser like I have for most of my life, changing your ways doesn't come easy. But I truly want to get there, and I know that only God can sanctify me in this area of life. I think if I stopped being afraid of hurting someone's feelings I might actually be able to do something good for them; not crushing their spirit, but gently pointing the way that I, as their friend, know they should go.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
finding the defendant not guilty
Raise your hand if you are continually plagued by the guilty bug. Okay, well you don't really have to raise your hand because, obviously, I can't see you. But you may be wondering, what is the guilty bug? The guilty bug is the one that sits on your shoulders, and, the moment you do something "wrong" whispers in your ears, "You're guilty." You know those cartoons that show a devil sitting on one shoulder and an angel on the other. Well, how often do you listen to the Liar rather than focusing on the Truth? The truth that we are forgiven - that we are a new creation in Christ. Why is it so much easier to hold on to the guilt rather than to be washed clean in grace? I am especially guilty of this. Guilty of feeling guilty and dragging that guilt around with me wherever I go.
I have been reading a book by C.S. Lewis called The Screwtape Letters. It's a bit deep for me in some places, but, I've found that there are some good bits of wisdom to glean from it. Without going into too much detail, I'll share the premise of the book. Screwtape is a demon who is training his nephew, Wormwood, in the finer points of temptation - namely how to mislead and guide a soul away from God. It's a little confusing at first because, in the book, the devil is referred to as "Our Father," and the "Enemy" is God. Here's a quote that touches on where God wants our hearts to be when it comes to guilt.
Even of [our] sins the Enemy (God) does not want [us] to think too much: once they are repented, the sooner [we] turn [our] attention outward, the better the Enemy (God) is pleased.
I have to admit that I have been more motivated in my life by guilt than by grace. I've carried guilt around 'til it becomes a burden that is much too heavy to bear. There is hope, though, I believe.
By grace I can learn to let go of the guilt and find an easier "yoke" to bear - the one Christ offers.
Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28-30
Rest from guilt. Is it even possible? I'm beginning to believe that, once we've repented of a sin, God wants us to let go of our shame and hold onto his hand of grace. What makes you feel guilty? What weighs you down with an unbearable sense of shame? Maybe it's time to let it go. Maybe it's time to believe that God's grace is bigger than our sins. That, in Christ, He truly has removed them as far as the east is from the west.
Psalm 103:12 As far as the east is from the west so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
You are free. Now go and live like it.
I have been reading a book by C.S. Lewis called The Screwtape Letters. It's a bit deep for me in some places, but, I've found that there are some good bits of wisdom to glean from it. Without going into too much detail, I'll share the premise of the book. Screwtape is a demon who is training his nephew, Wormwood, in the finer points of temptation - namely how to mislead and guide a soul away from God. It's a little confusing at first because, in the book, the devil is referred to as "Our Father," and the "Enemy" is God. Here's a quote that touches on where God wants our hearts to be when it comes to guilt.
Even of [our] sins the Enemy (God) does not want [us] to think too much: once they are repented, the sooner [we] turn [our] attention outward, the better the Enemy (God) is pleased.
I have to admit that I have been more motivated in my life by guilt than by grace. I've carried guilt around 'til it becomes a burden that is much too heavy to bear. There is hope, though, I believe.
By grace I can learn to let go of the guilt and find an easier "yoke" to bear - the one Christ offers.
Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Matthew 11:28-30
Rest from guilt. Is it even possible? I'm beginning to believe that, once we've repented of a sin, God wants us to let go of our shame and hold onto his hand of grace. What makes you feel guilty? What weighs you down with an unbearable sense of shame? Maybe it's time to let it go. Maybe it's time to believe that God's grace is bigger than our sins. That, in Christ, He truly has removed them as far as the east is from the west.
Psalm 103:12 As far as the east is from the west so far has he removed our transgressions from us.
You are free. Now go and live like it.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Lies, Lies, and More Lies
He [the devil] was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native tongue, for he is a liar and the father of lies. John 8:44
Kind of an interesting verse to start out with, huh? It's one that's been on my mind lately. Mostly because I've begun to have this awareness that I tend to listen more to the lies of the devil than I do the truths of God. It is so easy to become entangled by lies. They're so much easier to fall for, so much easier to believe. With every fiber of my being I fight to hold on to the truth, but it is not always an easy thing to do.
What are some of the lies I believe? That God is dissapointed in me. That he just barely tolerates me. That I'm stupid, incapable, a simpleton. These are just a few of the lies that I've fallen for throughout the course of my life.
The thief [the devil] comes only to kill and destroy; I have come that [you] may have life and have it to the full. (John 10:10).
So the devil is a liar and a thief. Why then do I want to listen to and believe in what he has to say? Well , in some ways, I feel like my brain has to be reprogrammed. Since I was little I've been lied to, and, what's worse, I've believed most of the lies. It is a daily battle to hold on to the truth. Paul knew this when he penned this charge to the Ephesians;
Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist. Ephesians 6:14
So here's my challenge to you over the next several days. (Yes, now I'm making you do homework.) Think about the lies that you've listened to and believed most of your life. Lies about yourself, lies about others, lies about God. Ask God to show you what some of those lies are, and, by his Spirit, begin to replace them with the truth - the truth that sets us free. (John 8:32). God's blessings upon your endeavor.
Kind of an interesting verse to start out with, huh? It's one that's been on my mind lately. Mostly because I've begun to have this awareness that I tend to listen more to the lies of the devil than I do the truths of God. It is so easy to become entangled by lies. They're so much easier to fall for, so much easier to believe. With every fiber of my being I fight to hold on to the truth, but it is not always an easy thing to do.
What are some of the lies I believe? That God is dissapointed in me. That he just barely tolerates me. That I'm stupid, incapable, a simpleton. These are just a few of the lies that I've fallen for throughout the course of my life.
The thief [the devil] comes only to kill and destroy; I have come that [you] may have life and have it to the full. (John 10:10).
So the devil is a liar and a thief. Why then do I want to listen to and believe in what he has to say? Well , in some ways, I feel like my brain has to be reprogrammed. Since I was little I've been lied to, and, what's worse, I've believed most of the lies. It is a daily battle to hold on to the truth. Paul knew this when he penned this charge to the Ephesians;
Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist. Ephesians 6:14
So here's my challenge to you over the next several days. (Yes, now I'm making you do homework.) Think about the lies that you've listened to and believed most of your life. Lies about yourself, lies about others, lies about God. Ask God to show you what some of those lies are, and, by his Spirit, begin to replace them with the truth - the truth that sets us free. (John 8:32). God's blessings upon your endeavor.
Monday, August 8, 2011
crazy thorns
Having a hard time coming up with something to write about today. One thing I worry about with this blog is that I'll run out of things to write about. I remember before I was diagnosed bipolar, I was able to write nonstop and felt like my creativity was really, well, bursting at the seams. After I got the diagnosis and was put on medications, I feared that the creative side of my brain would be forever changed - if not ruined.
In fact, one night I said to my husband, "I don't think I'll be as good a writer as I was." He related a story about a certain opera singer who lost a ton of weight. When she slimmed down, she was asked if it affected her performance. Her comment? I have to work twice as hard now as I did then. I guess that story struck a chord with me. Writing maybe doesn't come as naturally for me anymore. But I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing - I've just learned to work harder at it. And in some ways I think I'm a better person because of it.
On a slightly different note, I am really struggling with depression today. I guess I should have seen it coming. For the last few weeks I've felt really good (usually a sign that I'm a bit manic), but, inevitably the lows caught up with me and brought along my favorite friend - depression. When I get depressed everything is more difficult for me. For one thing, I don't even want to get out of bed. It takes all the self-control I can muster just to stay on my feet and do what needs to be done. If I could have my way, I'd take the mania over the depression anyday. Being manic is so much more fun.
Nope bipolar is no fun. It is most definitely my "thorn in the flesh" - my greatest weakness. The Apostle Paul addressed the issue of weaknesses in one of his letters to Corinth.
(2 Corinthians 12:7) To keep me from becoming conceited . . . there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.
Pretty depressing if you ask me. But that wasn't the end of of things. The letter goes on to say that Paul pleaded three times with the Lord to take the "thorn" away. God's response?
(verse 9) [H]e said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.
So I guess I'll ask, what's your "thorn in the flesh?" What keeps you from being all that you want to be? Even though my thorn may be completely different from yours, I can relate to some of the pain you go through.
I don't know about you, but I hate my thorn. I want to be free of the daily, weakly, monthly highs and lows that come along with my illness. It's not easy to accept our thorns. But, truth be told, I don't think we'll ever be completely rid of them until we reach our heavenly home. So, in the meanwhile, we may as well go ahead and accept them; accept them and believe that, in the grand scheme of things, they must serve a higher purpose .
Leave you with this thought - from 2 Corinthians 4:7
[we] have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.
No matter how much that stupid thorn may be irritating you, take heart. God's power is made perfect in your weakness.
In fact, one night I said to my husband, "I don't think I'll be as good a writer as I was." He related a story about a certain opera singer who lost a ton of weight. When she slimmed down, she was asked if it affected her performance. Her comment? I have to work twice as hard now as I did then. I guess that story struck a chord with me. Writing maybe doesn't come as naturally for me anymore. But I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing - I've just learned to work harder at it. And in some ways I think I'm a better person because of it.
On a slightly different note, I am really struggling with depression today. I guess I should have seen it coming. For the last few weeks I've felt really good (usually a sign that I'm a bit manic), but, inevitably the lows caught up with me and brought along my favorite friend - depression. When I get depressed everything is more difficult for me. For one thing, I don't even want to get out of bed. It takes all the self-control I can muster just to stay on my feet and do what needs to be done. If I could have my way, I'd take the mania over the depression anyday. Being manic is so much more fun.
Nope bipolar is no fun. It is most definitely my "thorn in the flesh" - my greatest weakness. The Apostle Paul addressed the issue of weaknesses in one of his letters to Corinth.
(2 Corinthians 12:7) To keep me from becoming conceited . . . there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me.
Pretty depressing if you ask me. But that wasn't the end of of things. The letter goes on to say that Paul pleaded three times with the Lord to take the "thorn" away. God's response?
(verse 9) [H]e said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.
So I guess I'll ask, what's your "thorn in the flesh?" What keeps you from being all that you want to be? Even though my thorn may be completely different from yours, I can relate to some of the pain you go through.
I don't know about you, but I hate my thorn. I want to be free of the daily, weakly, monthly highs and lows that come along with my illness. It's not easy to accept our thorns. But, truth be told, I don't think we'll ever be completely rid of them until we reach our heavenly home. So, in the meanwhile, we may as well go ahead and accept them; accept them and believe that, in the grand scheme of things, they must serve a higher purpose .
Leave you with this thought - from 2 Corinthians 4:7
[we] have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.
No matter how much that stupid thorn may be irritating you, take heart. God's power is made perfect in your weakness.
Monday, August 1, 2011
the promise in a double rainbow
Saw a double rainbow the other night. Actually, the kids discovered it first and pointed it out to me. I've always loved rainbows - the reminder that God keeps his promises. John, for his part, is scared to death of them. The reason being is that first time we saw a double one was the night that I went psychotic and had to be hospitalized.
Personally, I think God was reminding me that he was with me and had a plan for my life. I clung to that thought in the midst of some of the most awful moments of my life. Here's a description of what happened when I was put in the Crisis Center that first night. There were two guys there who I talked to a few times. One was pretty much still living in a dream state. The older of the two was possibly the one person who kept me believing that God was good. Here's a description from Pools of Blessing about what happened the day I was released from the Crisis Center.
Personally, I think God was reminding me that he was with me and had a plan for my life. I clung to that thought in the midst of some of the most awful moments of my life. Here's a description of what happened when I was put in the Crisis Center that first night. There were two guys there who I talked to a few times. One was pretty much still living in a dream state. The older of the two was possibly the one person who kept me believing that God was good. Here's a description from Pools of Blessing about what happened the day I was released from the Crisis Center.
There were a handful of people in the Crisis Center with me. I really don’t recall having too much contact with anyone, but I do remember two people in particular. They were both older men who seemed to be as confused as I was. One of the guys pulled out a Bible and started talking to me about the “code.” He opened to a page that was a reference about numbers. At that point I could have continued to sink deeper and deeper into my psychotic state, but, for some reason, right at that moment, I made a conscious decision to ignore him. I think it was God’s Spirit pointing the way out of the state I was in.
The other guy, a dear man, had an obvious connection with God. He didn’t talk about any codes, he just sang hymns, and talked to me a little bit about his faith. At this point, my faith was being sorely tested. I was beginning to realize that all of the delusions I was having about God, faith, religion, were just that, delusions. There was a part of me, maybe most of me, that was ready to give up on faith all together. How could God allow this horrible thing to happen? How could he use religion, my faith, against me? So when I was leaving I asked this guy whose name I don’t even know, but whose face I will never forget, to sing “Rock of Ages,” for me. Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
let me hide myself in thee;
let the water and the blood,
from thy wounded side which flowed,
be of sin the double cure;
save from wrath and make me pure.
There were tears streaming down my face as I left the Crisis Center that day. The words from “Rock of Ages” followed me down that long corridor leading me to a future that was so uncertain, so scary because I had no idea what it held for me. From that point on I made the decision to keep putting my faith in God, to keep trusting him, believing that even through this, he was going to be my “rock.” As I began to get better, I clung to the words from that hymn. “Rock of Ages cleft for me. Let me hide myself in Thee.”
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Crazy Worries
What to write, what to write. The best advice I ever received about writing addressed the issue of writer's block. Basically, if you'll allow me to paraphrase, it goes something like this. 'If you're having a difficult time coming up with things to write about, lower your standards and keep on writing.' Very sensible, valuable advice. So without further ado . . . here is today's blog entry. (Standards lowered, but hoping it still comes out all right.)
A fly has been hanging around our kitchen for quite some time. Well, I guess it could be a number of different flies. I HATE flies - hate them. My biggest problem with them? I'm never able to kill them. I have terrible aim when it comes to fly swatters. Maybe I overthink it - make it a bigger deal than it has to be. Wham, missed again. Doggone flies.
So writing that, I just thought of a different sort of fly in my ointment. The worry kind. I worry about this, worry about that. Pretty soon my worries are buzzing around inside my head. And, there are so many of them I don't know which one to tackle first. Consequently, when I aim to get rid of one - wham, missed again.
Is anyone out there as much of a worrier as I am? Seems like I'm constantly up in arms about something. Did I make the kids brush their teeth this morning? Oh no, I forgot. Wham, missed it. Is that guy behind me unhappy with this minivan driving mama? Wham! Yup, he probably is because I'm driving too slow. Wham, my desk is too messy. Wham, I forgot to get the mail today. Wham, I yelled at the kids when I should have been more patient.
See what I'm getting at? Worry, upon worry, upon worry builds up in my head until I'm practically paralyzed. And for what? Did a single worry make anything better? Did the worries buzzing around inside my brain fix anything? No, they didn't. It was like swatting aimlessly at flies - missed one after the other after the other. What's more, if anything, the worry kept me from being productive 'cause all I could concentrate on was how bad everything was.
Jesus addressed the issue of worrying when talking to a crowd of people up on a hill;
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? (Matthew 6:25 NIV)
I guess I paraphrased what Jesus already taught. No, my worries can not add a single hour to my life. In fact, what they do is they take the joy out of my days. I'm so focused on what can go wrong that I forget about everything that's right.
Uh oh, here comes another one of those pesky worries . . . Are the kids really still sleeping? Maybe something's wrong. I should go check on them. On second thought . . . nope not gonna go there, not gonna worry. Wham! Got it. See ya, you pesky thing!
A fly has been hanging around our kitchen for quite some time. Well, I guess it could be a number of different flies. I HATE flies - hate them. My biggest problem with them? I'm never able to kill them. I have terrible aim when it comes to fly swatters. Maybe I overthink it - make it a bigger deal than it has to be. Wham, missed again. Doggone flies.
So writing that, I just thought of a different sort of fly in my ointment. The worry kind. I worry about this, worry about that. Pretty soon my worries are buzzing around inside my head. And, there are so many of them I don't know which one to tackle first. Consequently, when I aim to get rid of one - wham, missed again.
Is anyone out there as much of a worrier as I am? Seems like I'm constantly up in arms about something. Did I make the kids brush their teeth this morning? Oh no, I forgot. Wham, missed it. Is that guy behind me unhappy with this minivan driving mama? Wham! Yup, he probably is because I'm driving too slow. Wham, my desk is too messy. Wham, I forgot to get the mail today. Wham, I yelled at the kids when I should have been more patient.
See what I'm getting at? Worry, upon worry, upon worry builds up in my head until I'm practically paralyzed. And for what? Did a single worry make anything better? Did the worries buzzing around inside my brain fix anything? No, they didn't. It was like swatting aimlessly at flies - missed one after the other after the other. What's more, if anything, the worry kept me from being productive 'cause all I could concentrate on was how bad everything was.
Jesus addressed the issue of worrying when talking to a crowd of people up on a hill;
Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life? (Matthew 6:25 NIV)
I guess I paraphrased what Jesus already taught. No, my worries can not add a single hour to my life. In fact, what they do is they take the joy out of my days. I'm so focused on what can go wrong that I forget about everything that's right.
Uh oh, here comes another one of those pesky worries . . . Are the kids really still sleeping? Maybe something's wrong. I should go check on them. On second thought . . . nope not gonna go there, not gonna worry. Wham! Got it. See ya, you pesky thing!
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
It's been ten days or so since I've written an entry. A lot has happened since then. Last week I spent some time visiting my mom up in my hometown. I was planning on coming back Wednesday morning. Unfortunately, things don't always go as planned.
Monday night, Mom and I went to a movie. When the movie was over and the credits were rolling, we got up to leave the theater. Unfortunately, mom lost her sense of balance in the dark, and, before I knew it, she had fallen to the floor. The fall was pretty hard, and I was almost certain she had broken a bone, maybe even her hip. The next morning I took her to the ER. After a couple of x-rays it was determined that she had not broken a single bone. What a relief.
I relate this story as I'm thinking about something that I struggle with in my life - surviving the bad days. When I was in my late teens/early twenties I used to dread having a good day. I know that sounds strange. But if I was having a good day, there was a part of me that figured the next day would certainly be bad. I spent half my day worrying about what bad thing was lurking just around the corner. Prediagnosis there were, of course, many bad days. And if I would have known what bad thing was coming, I would have pulled the covers over my head to avoid whatever catastrophe was imminent.
I have noticed that as I've gotten older, this fear of the future has become less crippling. In fact, I rarely dread the unknown. Of course, it doesn't hurt that many of my days are more good than bad. A verse that has meant a lot to me when it comes to facing an uncertain future is written in the front cover of my bible. Proverbs 31:25 She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs with no fear of the future.(NLT)
Did you catch that? In case you didn't I'll write it again, "she laughs with no fear of the future." That's the kind of gal I want to be, one who can laugh at the unknown - even the scary unknown. I don't know the future, but I do know the One who holds my future in his hands. So I guess ultimately I need to trust him.
I'll sign off with a second quote I have written on the same cover, "Lead kindly light . . . Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene; one step enough for me."
I know that, at any moment a bad thing could arrive, but it's not so scary when I think about facing it. I know that I'm not alone and that everything, even the worst of days, are worked together for my good. (Romans 8:28)
Monday night, Mom and I went to a movie. When the movie was over and the credits were rolling, we got up to leave the theater. Unfortunately, mom lost her sense of balance in the dark, and, before I knew it, she had fallen to the floor. The fall was pretty hard, and I was almost certain she had broken a bone, maybe even her hip. The next morning I took her to the ER. After a couple of x-rays it was determined that she had not broken a single bone. What a relief.
I relate this story as I'm thinking about something that I struggle with in my life - surviving the bad days. When I was in my late teens/early twenties I used to dread having a good day. I know that sounds strange. But if I was having a good day, there was a part of me that figured the next day would certainly be bad. I spent half my day worrying about what bad thing was lurking just around the corner. Prediagnosis there were, of course, many bad days. And if I would have known what bad thing was coming, I would have pulled the covers over my head to avoid whatever catastrophe was imminent.
I have noticed that as I've gotten older, this fear of the future has become less crippling. In fact, I rarely dread the unknown. Of course, it doesn't hurt that many of my days are more good than bad. A verse that has meant a lot to me when it comes to facing an uncertain future is written in the front cover of my bible. Proverbs 31:25 She is clothed with strength and dignity, and she laughs with no fear of the future.(NLT)
Did you catch that? In case you didn't I'll write it again, "she laughs with no fear of the future." That's the kind of gal I want to be, one who can laugh at the unknown - even the scary unknown. I don't know the future, but I do know the One who holds my future in his hands. So I guess ultimately I need to trust him.
I'll sign off with a second quote I have written on the same cover, "Lead kindly light . . . Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene; one step enough for me."
I know that, at any moment a bad thing could arrive, but it's not so scary when I think about facing it. I know that I'm not alone and that everything, even the worst of days, are worked together for my good. (Romans 8:28)
Friday, July 8, 2011
Found out some disheartening news today. Mom, who has done well with a kidney transplanted 12 or more years ago, has learned that the kidney is failing. My heart is breaking for her. And I guess this is where the rubber meets the road, so to speak. All the things that I've written about - they're easy to write, but now I need to put into action what I've often told others to do.
Mom's been a champion of faith as I've written about before. But now I see her struggling with this news -afraid, unsure. I know that she's questioning, 'Why me? Haven't I been through enough? What have I done to deserve this?' It's extremely difficult to watch and wait and wonder about what's going to happen next.
My heart is breaking - don't even know what to write. So, I'll share something I've written before and hope that I can put into practice what I preach.
Finishing the Race
Your heart is pounding.
Sweat is pouring down your face.
Your legs feel like stones and
You still have the last stretch to go.
The roar of the crowd is like
Distant thunder to you.
All you can focus on,
Think about,
Is how badly you want to stop.
The pain is immense.
But stopping now would mean
You didn't finish the race.
What victory would there be in that?
A race is worth nothing
If you don't cross the finish line.
Then all of that pain that you've endured
Would be wasted.
So, you know you must press on to finish.
Crossing the line becomes
Your utimate goal.
With all you have left in you,
You strive to make that goal a reality.
Our Lord calls us to that kind of race today.
'Finish the race,' he urges us on.
Young, old, rich, poor,
Fast, slow, beginner, or veteran.
We all have races to run,
Everyday,
Every single moment of our lives.
We are called to press on
To finish the race we have begun.
But there are moments
When the pain becomes unbearable
And we wonder, how we can go on?
Our legs feel like stones.
Sweat is pouring down our faces,
Dripping into our eyes,
And we still have the last stretch to go.
We can't hear the roar of the crowd,
Because pain dulls our senses.
But if we will strain with our eyes
To look to the Finish Line
We will see the Master there, calling to us
Urging us on.
And if we strain to listen,
We will hear his voice
Shouting encouragement,
'Press on. Press on.'
And if we only will,
We will find ourselves at last in his arms.
Being gathered together, held up, and spoken to
More tenderly than we could have ever imagined.
And we will find that crossing the Finish Line
was, indeed,
Worth all of the pain that we endured
in this race we call life.
Mom's been a champion of faith as I've written about before. But now I see her struggling with this news -afraid, unsure. I know that she's questioning, 'Why me? Haven't I been through enough? What have I done to deserve this?' It's extremely difficult to watch and wait and wonder about what's going to happen next.
My heart is breaking - don't even know what to write. So, I'll share something I've written before and hope that I can put into practice what I preach.
Finishing the Race
Your heart is pounding.
Sweat is pouring down your face.
Your legs feel like stones and
You still have the last stretch to go.
The roar of the crowd is like
Distant thunder to you.
All you can focus on,
Think about,
Is how badly you want to stop.
The pain is immense.
But stopping now would mean
You didn't finish the race.
What victory would there be in that?
A race is worth nothing
If you don't cross the finish line.
Then all of that pain that you've endured
Would be wasted.
So, you know you must press on to finish.
Crossing the line becomes
Your utimate goal.
With all you have left in you,
You strive to make that goal a reality.
Our Lord calls us to that kind of race today.
'Finish the race,' he urges us on.
Young, old, rich, poor,
Fast, slow, beginner, or veteran.
We all have races to run,
Everyday,
Every single moment of our lives.
We are called to press on
To finish the race we have begun.
But there are moments
When the pain becomes unbearable
And we wonder, how we can go on?
Our legs feel like stones.
Sweat is pouring down our faces,
Dripping into our eyes,
And we still have the last stretch to go.
We can't hear the roar of the crowd,
Because pain dulls our senses.
But if we will strain with our eyes
To look to the Finish Line
We will see the Master there, calling to us
Urging us on.
And if we strain to listen,
We will hear his voice
Shouting encouragement,
'Press on. Press on.'
And if we only will,
We will find ourselves at last in his arms.
Being gathered together, held up, and spoken to
More tenderly than we could have ever imagined.
And we will find that crossing the Finish Line
was, indeed,
Worth all of the pain that we endured
in this race we call life.
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