Meet Me in St. Louis - Part Three

Ready for Part Three? After all, the best stories always come in threes, don’t they? Part One of this silly story was about my discovery that the writing workshop I was attending was in St. Louis and not Seward, NE. Part Two was about what I experienced on my flight to St. Louis. So without further ado, the much anticipated Part Three of Meet Me in St. Louis.

Ever since my adventures in St. Louis, I’ve realized something about myself. I am a worrier. Well, actually I’ve always realized this, but it became even more clear once I’d returned home from my travels. You see, while I was in St. Louis it was a step-by-step thing. I was already so overwhelmed by being there in the first place that I had to take it one moment at a time.

From the beginning of this crazy adventure, I leaned on God like I hadn’t for a long time. When I was still a swinging single, I was used to doing things on my own. I was much more independent with a “ready for anything” kind of attitude. That’s the way it was because that’s the way it had to be. Since becoming a stay-at-home mom, my boundaries and my carefree spirit have shrunk considerably. I feel secure in my home with my kids and the routine that I’ve established. A routine that is so familiar, so safe, so comfortable. Problem is, when I’m in my comfort zone, it’s easy to forget what it’s like to depend on God for everything.

So you might say that this trip gave me a little kick in the pants. That’s okay. It was a kick in the pants that I needed. Depending on God throughout this adventure was the only way I could deal with how overwhelmed I felt. And just to set the record straight - God did not disappoint.

When I got off the plane, I faced my first challenge – finding a cab. Turns out it was pretty easy. It doesn’t hurt that I have a husband who travels to St. Louis frequently. He gave me tips to make the journey as painless as possible. Things like writing down the address for the driver. Asking if he took credit cards. Yup, didn’t hurt that my hubby had gone this route a few times.

When I arrived on campus, my first task was to find a place to eat. Knowing nothing about the area, I thought it would be best to eat at the school’s cafeteria. Problem being, who would I sit by? I walked into the cafeteria praying for a place to sit that wouldn’t make me feel so conspicuous. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the seating area and looked around. There were several groups of people sitting together, but there was one man sitting alone. I felt a prompting to go sit by him, but the chicken in me didn’t want to take the risk. Then, aaaw, what the heck. I’m already way out of my comfort zone why not take another step? So I sat down across the table from him and introduced myself. While we made small talk, I couldn’t help noticing that he had a name tag on. Out of curiousity I asked him what he was on campus for. Even before he responded, I knew what he was going to say, he was here for the same faith and writing workshop that I was.

Coincidence? I think not. From then on, this pastor and I became friends. Since I had no idea how to get to the class, he led the way to the building and room where it was being held. Once we reached the classroom, he offered me the use of his extension cord which in my flurry of packing, I’d forgotten.

On the last night before the workshop ended, he told me a story. He had prayed to find a friend at the workshop - someone he could chat with, especially about writing. Turns out I was the answer to that prayer. Just think, if I hadn’t gone over and sat by him, the story would have turned out much differently.

From the moment I sat down for lunch next to a complete stranger, until I got back on that plane home, I did my best to following the promptings of God. And you know what? It was an amazing adventure. From finding this little café a block away from campus where they made a mean fruit and yogurt parfait (fresh mint in it – remarkable), to sitting next to one of the sweetest woman I’ve ever known, to getting the chance to visit an amazing family that I’ve known for many years; God provided. And the thing is, I could relax because God being God, I didn’t need to worry that he wouldn’t take care of my needs.

You know what I discovered - the really cool part of the whole trip? God was as faithful then as he’d been when I was single. And it made me wonder - how had I managed to forget this one important fact; that God is faithful. My theory? I don’t need God in the everyday, ordinary things of life. I’m in control. I get through my days just fine on my own. No help needed.

Only problem is, that’s not exactly true. It doesn’t matter if I’m sitting in a Faith and Writing Workshop in St. Louis, or cooking dinner in my small town Nebraska home - God is always God. And, whether I recognize it or not, God is faithful. Always. Everyday. No matter what.

So I’ll wrap up my trilogy here. The biggest lesson I learned from this whole experience? Just because I know my way around town, or get all my food needs met at the grocery store, or live the same routine day after day doesn’t mean God isn’t working wonders in my life. And it’s not his fault if I fail to recognize them for what they are. So, maybe I’ll step out of my comfort zone a little more realizing that God is working his “little miracles” in my life everyday. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll remember to be oh-so-grateful that he is.

Trapped

O to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be.

Let Thy goodness like a fetter bind my wandering heart to Thee. 

Prone to wander Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.

 Here’s my heart oh take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above.

 

Why I’m writing this hasn’t yet become clear to me. I have a story that I’d like to share and maybe someday it will find its way into the hands of others who might benefit from some of the things that I’ve learned. I don’t claim to be a theologian. Far from it. But these are some simple truths that God has pressed against my heart and I feel compelled to share them. 

I love the ending verse to the hymn “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.”  The opening verse is just as beautiful:

 

Come thou fount of every blessing.  Tune my heart to sing thy grace.

Streams of mercy never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise.

Teach me some melodious sonnet sung by flaming tongues above

Praise his name I’m fixed upon it, the name of God’s redeeming love.

 

The line that has the most impact on me is the first, “Come Thou fount of every blessing.” Fount of every blessing, that’s what God is.  He is the fount of all things physical, and all things spiritual.  And, yet, while it is easy to say that God has bountifully blessed us with all things physical, the water becomes a bit more murky when we begin to talk about God blessing us with all things spiritual. 

 Why is not as easy to say that God has given us faith, redemption, security, as it is to say that he has given us grass, water, and trees.  Until recently, I was a good Christian girl who knew that Jesus was her Savior and that He died and rose again for her.  But from there I thought the rest was up to me.  I knew I was saved, but being saved now meant being good, living a good life, being a good Christian. 

Romans 7:18 I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.

 I feel the Apostle Paul’s pain in the above verses. In verse 18-19, he goes on to say exactly the same things I think to myself nearly every day.

 “For what I do is not the good I want to do: no, the evil I do not want to do – this I keep on doing.” (vs19)

The problem is that even though in my heart I want to be good, I want to follow Christ, I want to live a life that is God pleasing, I just can’t.  It is as spiritually impossible for me to be good down to the depths of my soul, as it is physically impossible for me to change the color of my eyes. A leopard can’t change its spots.  I am what I am.  And what I am is a Christian trapped inside a body of death. 

 “When I want to do good evil is right there with me,” wrote the Apostle Paul. (vs 21)

 Just recently I’ve come to understand what he was speaking about when he penned these words by the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Here’s how the story begins.  Or more appropriately where, for me, it all ended.

 I’m a critical person by nature.  If I told that to most people who knew me they’d say “Oh no you’re not, You’re a great person, a patient person, an understanding and sympathetic person.  I’ve never known you to be critical at all.”

 The problem is - even though it might make me feel better; I know that deep down inside  what they might say isn’t true.  It just isn’t.  When I say that I’m a critical person, I’m not saying that I tend to be critical, or that I sometimes am critical; I’m saying that critical is what I am.  It’s part of my nature.  In other words, I can’t separate myself from it. 

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had the first big argument we’ve had since being married.  What it was about doesn’t really matter as much as what happened when it was over.  It seemed to end on a positive note; we both apologized for the things we’d said and done that were wrong.  But all week long after the fight, I felt like a dark and gloomy cloud was hanging over my head.  It seemed that even though the fight was over, something still hadn’t been resolved.  I felt awful.  I felt hollow inside.  I felt lost. 

Then one night in bed, we began to talk about the fight, and how we both felt like something was still wrong between us.  I didn’t want to say I was sorry.  I thought at the time that I didn’t need to apologize. But the truth of the matter, the heart of it, was the fact that I didn’t want to apologize because if I did it would mean that I would have to change.  I would have to stop being so critical. 

But you see, I’d tried to stop being critical.  I honestly had.  Every time I felt the least bit critical of him, I’d resolved to stop.  I tried to beat my critical nature into submission.  The problem was - I couldn’t.  Oh, sometimes I was fairly successful.  I bit my tongue, or  ignored, or even sometimes bent over backwards to be nice when I wasn’t feeling so nice inside.  But the critical thoughts were still there.  It was like a poison that I couldn’t get out of my system.

Romans 7:24 What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death?

Yup, Paul summed it up pretty nicely for me. I didn’t want to be critical, but there it was I just couldn’t help myself.  Reflecting on these things even as we talked I finally confessed to my husband in a despondent voice, “Listen. I know that I’m too critical of you, but I don’t know how to change it.  I’ve tried. But it’s like I’m caught in a cycle that I can’t find my way out of.”  (When I want to do good evil is right there with me).

Spoken straight from my heart, these were the truest words that had ever come out of my mouth.  In saying this to my husband, there was a sense of release for me.  I had come to the end of myself.  Do you know what I mean when I say that?  For me, it was like an epiphany.  I was a Christian, I trusted completely in Christ for my salvation.  But did I trust him for the rest, for sanctification and the good works that should be flowing out of this saved sinner’s soul?  It was as if God were waiting for me to come to the same conclusion that he already had: I was a Christian trapped in a body of death.  I needed him, not only for salvation, but for all the rest as well. 

What I love about the above verses penned by the Apostle Paul is that they have a happy ending. In the muck and mire of what he’d written, Paul seemed so despondent. And he was. He was trapped in a body of death and could find no way out. Finally, as I had to, as we all have to, Paul came to the end of himself. In his despondency, he turned to the right One, Jesus Christ. And though the beginning verses of his Struggling With Sin chapter are all about despair, the verse that packs the biggest punch is tucked neatly away at the end of the chapter.

Romans 7:25 What a wretched man I am. Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God – through Jesus Christ our Lord!

 I can’t think of a better way to end this entry. So, I won’t even try.

please, don't be crazy

In light of the tragedy in a Colorado movie theater and the recent news story about Jared Lee Loughner, the man who shot congresswoman, Gabby Giffords, injured twelve others, and killed six, I feel that there is an issue, an ensuing crisis in our country that needs to be addressed. I believe it’s a crisis of magnificent proportions and, unless we take action now, all signs indicate that this crisis is only going to get worse. My views on these recent shootings may not be popular but here goes.

 The event that spurred me to write this entry was the court proceedings that took place this past week in which Loughner appeared before a judge and pleaded guilty to nineteen of the forty-nine crimes he was charged with. For the most part this decision was favorably received because it meant that the victims and their families would be spared an agonizing trial. Gabby Giffords and her husband, Mark Kelly, said in a statement that , "[they] were satisfied with the proposed plea agreement.”

 This hearing was much different than the one that took place in May, 2011. On that day, Loughner was removed from court after an outburst in which the Arizona Republic quoted him as saying, “Thank you for the free kill. She died in front of me. Your cheesiness.” At this point Loughner still believed he had killed Giffords.

But on this August day, 2012 the Judge presiding, Larry A. Burns had this to say about the change in Loughner’s manner and presence, “He is a different person in his appearance and his effect than when I first laid eyes on him.”

 Clearly something had changed. The federal psychologist appointed to this case, Dr. Christina Pietz, commented on these changes. “Loughner is severely mentally ill, one of the worst I’ve treated. But I believe he can function in the general population.” What was the change?  Medication. In fact, Loughner’s treatment was stopped at one point to ensure that he was not being forcibly medicated. But after another incident in July 2011, prison officials decided to require the medication again. This time the 9^th circuit court upheld the decision to medicate him.

 Pietz saw Loughner nearly every day and described the changes that had taken place, “At first he thought he had killed Giffords. However, after time, Loughner began to express remorse.” ‘I especially cried about the child,’  Pietz quoted him as saying about Christina-Taylor Green. Loughner told Pietz that he “deserved the death penalty and that he realized the consequences of his actions.”

 There were signs that Loughner struggled with mental illness long before the shooting incident. Based on his journal, Pietz concluded that he had shown signs of depression since 2006 and may have developed symptoms of schizophrenia in his junior year of high school. Classmates at Pima Community College described him as a strange and eccentric student; professors spoke of his “disorganized thought process,” Dr. Pietz said.

 The NY Times reported that Loughner’s parents testified that at one point he asked them if they could hear the same voices he had been hearing. In written answers to her questions, his parents told Pietz they were worried he would kill himself. In videos he made, Mr. Loughner said that, he, “felt depressed, and that he had the urge to kill someone.”

 Clearly, Loughner was struggling with both schizophrenia and depression, but once he began a treatment, he was a completely different person. You may be thinking that all I’m doing in this entry is defending a horrible monster. In actuality, I’m not. I’m remembering those who were victims of his rampage.

 You see, I was a person who was capable of doing horrific things in a state of undiagnosis. I've shared often that pre-diagnosis I frequently considered suicide, but that's not the whole story. The night I was hospitalized I went psychotic and, in that state, who knows what I might have done. But for the grace of God maybe that jail cell could have been mine.

 Which leads me to a question. Why do you suppose so many people who commit crimes of this magnitude are known to have struggled with some form of mental illness? It’s not coincidence, folks. It’s a pattern; one that’s occurring all too often. Locking the mentally ill up after the crime has been committed may be a short-term solution, but in the long run wouldn’t it be better to get these people help before it’s too late. Randy Gardner, who was one of Loughner’s victims decried the lack of mental-health care for people like Loughner saying, “We really have to be our brother’s keeper here and reach out and get them help.”

 I couldn’t agree more. I believe that many crimes such as these are preventable. I can say this with confidence because medication has literally saved my life. Much like Judge Burns described Loughner as being “a different person,” that is how I feel about myself. For me going off meds isn't even an option. I know what my life was like before I took them. It was awful, horrible, a dark place that I NEVER want to go back to.

 Here’s the deal, folks; mental illness is real. It is ugly. And, unless it’s dealt with beforehand, it can be lethal. In the end it’s about being our brother’s keeper; getting help for the mentally ill, but it’s also about ensuring that there will be no more innocent victims like Christina-Taylor Green.

Meet Me in St. Louis - Part 2

Psalm 137:23-24 The steps of the godly are directed by the Lord. He delights in every detail of their lives.

Have you ever had a fleeting feeling that the stuff you believe about God might not be true, might not be real? I have to admit I’ve had those thoughts. Sometimes it’s a real struggle to believe in a God you can’t see. But if there has ever been proof that God exists, I can testify to it by telling you a simple story; what happened on my flight to St. Louis. If you missed Meet me in St. Louis - Part I, I’ll give you a quick run-down. Number one; Girl signs up for Faith and Writing Workshop. Number two; Girl realizes a day before she leaves that the workshop is in St. Louis not Seward, NE. Number three; Girl gets on a plane and leaves for a few days adventure.

In Part I, I wrote about how overwhelmed I felt leaving the comfort of my little Nebraska town to travel to a city I’d never been to. But from the get-go, I realized God had something special planned for this trip. Maybe, more than anything, it was a chance to experience the realness that is God. To not only believe, but to encounter His nearness, His faithfulness, His I-care-about-every-detail-of-your-life type of thing.

Let’s start from where I left off. My husband had dropped me off at the airport. The moment I walked in, my heart began beating faster. I saw the line for security, and it was long. Would I make it to my gate on time? Then I remembered, I was taking this trip one moment at a time. Taking a deep breath I tried to calm myself. Things would be fine, I told myself. Just fine. The line did move rather quickly and, before I knew it, I was at my gate waiting to board the plane. It was packed. Since I’d just booked my flight the day before I would be in the last group to board. Sighing, I dropped into my seat. I was about ready to get out my Nook for some pleasure reading when a gal around my age asked if she could sit next to me. We chit-chatted very briefly.

Before we took off I needed to go to the restroom, but I didn’t want to drag all of my stuff with me. This girl next to me seemed pleasant enough. I asked if she would watch my things while I was gone, and she agreed. I hurried off to find a bathroom. Maybe I was being naïve trusting this stranger. On the other hand, maybe God had placed this person in my path for a reason.

When I returned I found that the passengers were beginning to board. Since I’d never flown Southwest, I was a little confused about the process. Thinking that this girl seemed to know what she was doing, I asked her for a few tips. She must have sensed my amateurishness because she offered to save a seat for me on the plane. I readily accepted. Once I’d found her, I breathed a sigh of relief and sunk into my seat. I’d made it thus far without any major catastrophes. So far. So good.

As the plane took off, I asked my neighbor what she did. “I’m a writer.” she responded. Eagerly, I turned to her and told her that I was also a writer. I explained that I would be attending a Faith and Writing Workshop in St. Louis. We chatted more, and I discovered that she had self-published a few books. During the flight, we discussed the advantages of self-publishing versus conventional. She gave me some good tips and pointers about self-publishing.

The flight went by rather quickly. Just as we were landing, she handed me her card. “Here. Feel free to contact me if you have any more questions.” As we were leaving the plane she turned to me and said, “You know, I never talk to anyone when I fly. It was really unusual for me to even sit by you in the airport.” I, of course, had to give credit where credit was due, “Yea, guess it was meant to be,” I hesitated, “a God-thing you might say.” Smiling and nodding, she hurried off the plane to catch her connecting flight.

I guess my question for you is this; Do you see the ‘God moments’ in your own life? If your answer is, “No,” my question is, “Why not?” Because if you do stop and search for those ‘God moments’ you’ll realize just how much He cares about every detail of your life. Every detail. Even the seemingly insignificant ones.

So I guess I’ll bring this around full circle. When I’m tempted to think that all this ‘God stuff’ is just foolishness, I’ll remember my flight to St. Louis. Every part. And smiling as I did when I was walking off the plane that day, I’ll remember this; God is real, and, more importantly, God is good.

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