Posted: July 20th, 2011 |
Filed under: life | Tags: grace, purpose |
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When you’re going though adolescence, you tend to focus on the flaws in your parents more than the things you clung to when you were little. A kid at that age separates him or herself from the things a child would do. Like, be silly with your mom in public, or want her to tuck you in at night. There was a time you used to beg her to stay. Then she suddenly embarrassed you and you wanted her to drop you off down the street. Most of us don’t appreciate our moms until we become moms.
I was adopted when I was 10, so I was never a little kid with my mom. She started out with me feeling embarrassed.
Their religion bothered me the most. It was the source of every “no” and every time I got in trouble. It embarrassed me, so I fought to let everyone know that I wasn’t like them.
I moved out and grew up a little bit, but my life was a car with no wheels. I reached out for God and ultimately caused me to reach out to her. I was 19, unmarried and pregnant. I became a Christian and that made me feel devastated about my obvious damage. The sin was too fresh and it kept bleeding through the bandages.
As religious as my mom was, she had the best understanding of grace and God’s sovereignty of anyone I knew. However, I did not see that at the time.
She would tell me that “it was God’s plan to bring my child here. God did not make a mistake when He made me a mom. He did it on purpose.”
I would dismiss her as “just being a mom.” Of course she’s going to say that.
“You can’t turn everything around so that it benefits me.” I’d argue.
I grew up a bit more and developed my own relationship with God. I moved further and further away from not feeling pure and eventually my sin scabbed over. I made sure that everyone knew that I was not who I was. I did not believe my mom’s version of grace because it was too easy. There wasn’t a cubby for it in my religion. You had to do it the hard way.
Then I found myself so far off track that I knew I could never make it back to where I was. I turned my life upside down in a ditch that fell through.
I didn’t know where I was. I reached out to my mom because I couldn’t bear to not hear love in my Father’s voice.
She would tell me that God never asked me to punish myself. That I am allowed to look forward with hope and trust in God’s forgiveness. She told me that she believes things happen for a reason and that God has a plan.
I was angry at her. I thought she didn’t get it. That was until I remembered a different time she stood by God’s sovereignty.
Before I was adopted, my parents tried to have their own children. They wanted six kids and a farm. That’s it. My mom was 19 when she had her little girl. She named her Kassandra (Sandy) and fell deeply in love with her and deeper with her husband. Around the time they were pregnant with their little boy, Jeremiah (Jeremy), they found out that something was wrong with Sandy. She wasn’t developing properly. A few years later, they found out that something was wrong with Jeremy, too. And his was a little bit worse. Their kids had an unexplainable disease. When they were trying to figure this out, they got pregnant with their third. My mom had two kids in wheelchairs and innumerable questions. The third baby died in her third trimester. Then my mom had a hysterectomy. A few years later, Sandy died. She was eight-years-old.
This was all before she was 30. This was all my parents’ marriage knew.
When Sandy died, Jeremy started to die.
My parents have always wanted six kids. So, they registered to adopt. Not long before that, my own mother gave me up for adoption. I was nine-years-old when I watched her sign the papers. I had a little sister and two little brothers beside me.
When my parents got the first phone call from the adoption agency, they jumped at it. They didn’t care that it was a group of four siblings. Upon meeting us, it wasn’t even a question of “Do you want them?” Why do you think they drove 4 hours?
I’ll never understand what they were thinking. My two little brothers were farting and fighting like feral children, my love-starved sister would not get off their laps, and I would not let go of my foster mom.
When we moved in, their son, Jeremy, started coming back to life. He loved my little brothers’ antics and my sister doted on him like he was hers.
He was seven when we joined his family. He was sicker than Sandy, but he outlived her by six years My mom swears it’s because of us. Not long after Jeremy died, my parents adopted a one-year-old and his infant brother.
Six kids in all.
One afternoon, my mom was telling me about the pain she went through when she lost her babies. I remember asking her how it was that she could trust God even though He took her babies from her. I couldn’t understand how she could believe it was God’s plan.
She answered my questions by saying, “God knew you needed a mommy.”
She wasn’t a one-sided grace server or biased in her faith. She trusted God’s grace and sovereignty even when it meant that she had to be ripped to pieces.
God always has reason. Remember that when it looks like the end. One day you’ll look back and shake your head in amazement because you’ll really get it.
Stories of grace always leave a hole somewhere that only Jesus can explain. If you just focus on the negative, it’s hard to see that the God we all know as good to allow something that goes against what we would call perfect and good. My parents didn’t know what God had planned for them. I think that if God showed us what it would take to get us to where we want to be, we’d have a hard time following Him through it. God gave my parents their dream of six kids and a farm. He just didn’t tell them how hard it would be to get there.
In my own life, it’s my worst experiences that have brought about the things I thank God for the most. Your faith has to be challenged before it can grow. Having your faith challenged is gut wrenching.
The following picture doesn’t have much to do with my message, but it made me laugh. 
Posted: July 12th, 2011 |
Filed under: God, life | Tags: grace, purpose |
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I love reading the Bible in different translations. Sometimes the older versions choose wording that is out of our culture’s vocabulary enough to bring new light to the meaning.
This particular set of scriptures has significant meaning to me because it is the only verse I dated in my Bible. I dated it the last time I read my Bible before I fell.
“Keep a cool head. Stay alert. The Devil is poised to pounce, and would like nothing better than to catch you napping. Keep your guard up. You’re not the only ones plunged into these hard times. It’s the same with Christians all over the world. So keep a firm grip on the faith. The suffering won’t last forever. It won’t be long before this generous God who has great plans for us in Christ—eternal and glorious plans they are!—will have you put together and on your feet for good. He gets the last word; yes, he does.” -1 Peter 5:8-11
I had no idea.
In the aftermath, I was brought back to these verses when I was searching for answers about my eternal fate. It told me:
- He knew.
- I wasn’t alone.
- “The suffering won’t last forever.”
- One day I would be okay and I would be okay forever.
- He’s in control.
These things are huge for someone who knows how bad they messed up. There are people who are there right now and they need hope, not condemnation. Condemnation is ripping them to pieces and you, as a believer, have to stop it. That should be the only thing you want to do. The truth about Jesus should be screaming from every pore on your body.
He knew about your sin before it happened. He understands where you are and what is happening to you in your spirit. He knows the forces against you and He hears every word they say. For whatever reason, this is important. This pain, torment, uncertainty, terror, anger, and the blood in your tears are doing something important. Remember the story of the threshing floor? Where the wheat was stripped of it’s outer shell? The seed died and was buried. He calls you ‘wheat’. You are the wheat and your outer shell is being ripped from you. You are dying in the dirt.
Why? Why would a seed need to be exposed and shoved in the dirt? What good can come from a thunderous rain that goes on and on?
New life.
That’s what this is all about. It’s a transformation and you needed to go through whatever would be the most effective for the overall purpose. It seems so cruel, but that is where the real decision comes in. Do you want Him? Do you trust Him? You have to die to fit through the Gate and He knows what will kill you. Life through death. You have to really understand doubt to understand faith.
Then, like a parent mouthing the words for their nervous little play actor, He tells you that you’re not alone. Everyone has to go through their own personal hell and the worst thing about it is that nobody can go with you. He lets this happen by using here-and-now things and circumstances. Nobody will understand you. Nobody will know what to say to you. Nobody will want to be around you. Nothing is without purpose. “It’s the same with Christians all over the world.”
Very soon, you will be able to believe it when He says that He’ll “have you put together and on your feet for good.”
Here are the same scriptures in a different translation:
“Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: Whom resist stedfast in the faith, knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in your brethren that are in the world. But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto his eternal glory by Christ Jesus, after that ye have suffered a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you.” -1 Peter 5:8-11 KJV
Resist giving up, that’s what the “adversary” is really after. Everyone not only is going through it, but they must go through it. You have been called, with grace, to eternal life, but you must “suffer for a while”. Then, He will establish you and make you stronger. He will settle you.
“He will settle you” takes on an immeasurable significance. Like an infant crying through the night. Like girl with no roots. He will “settle you.”
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Posted: June 29th, 2011 |
Filed under: God, life | Tags: grace, purpose |
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I’m for the underdogs, the given up on, the undeserving, and the torn apart. I’d rather sit and drink coffee with the heathen than with the out-of-touch leaders. I’d rather further someone else than spend time furthering my cause.
Grace isn’t something you can harness and make your slave. You don’t get to bridle it, domesticate it, and ride it like it’s yours. You swim in it, like an ocean. You sleep under it, like the stars. You live in it, like a Kingdom. You breathe it, like life.
They want to pray for the couple fighting to adopt the baby and I want to pray for the forgotten father fighting for a chance to be a dad. They want to encourage the parents with the unruly teen and I want to shower the kid with acceptance. They need help prosecuting the criminal and I want to find the criminal and tell her she still has a chance.
People sacrifice one for another, but I say that the sacrifice has been made so nobody has to be lost. It’s not about taking sides, but if sides are taken, I take the side of the blamed.
“What are we to do with her?” They question. “What a shame.” There is no shame, not in His Kingdom. There is no condemnation. Have they forgotten?
In what Kingdom do you live? Look around, do you see Jesus? Can you see Him in the man flipping you off? Can you see Him in the father sitting in jail? Can you see Jesus in the girl whose beer made her lose her shoes?
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. -Matthew 5:8 ESV
What you see is what you are. “The pure in heart” can see Him.
There is no shame where there is hope. How can you know Him and not hold out hope? How can you know Him and not see Him in them? There is no condemnation where Jesus is. Where are you? Is there condemnation where you are? Jesus is with us all, do you not know where you are?
Having purified your souls by your obedience to the truth for a sincere brotherly love, love one another earnestly from a pure heart… - 1 Peter 1:22 ESV
You have to know the truth to know where you are. “Sincere brotherly love”, even for the unloveable. Especially for them.
You get a pure heart from knowing the truth, the truth that leads to love and hope. You will be like Him when you can see Him. (1 John 3:2)
And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure. - 1 John 3:3 ESV
When you see them, look for Jesus and act accordingly.
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Posted: June 9th, 2011 |
Filed under: life | Tags: grace, purpose |
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Nights are the hardest, aren’t they? No distractions from the accusations. It’s worse when you think they’re coming from you. If only you could go back in time, wake up tomorrow and do it all different. Oh, but the horror of knowing you can’t.
At first it was denial. Time stopped for a second and let the shock set in.
And then, when you couldn’t deny it anymore, when life lost it’s color, you started to plead. “Please let me go back. You’re God, you can do anything. I’ve learned my lesson. Give me another chance.”
But He won’t. You wake up under a sun that shines on everyone but you. It’s still the same. You still did that. And your whole world is gathering together to mourn your loss, and talk about your secrets, and figure out life without you. You want to rip from yourself, to feel love again. You want someone to cry with you, to hold you, to feel what it is to be you.
No one will look you in the eye, though you beg for them to. “See me. See all the words I can’t find. See what is happening inside.”
Listen to me. You are mourning. Life is going to be different and you will get used to it. Every time you look for someone who is no longer there, you will be reminded like a volt of horrible shock to every part of your existence. And then you will wither at the knowledge that it’s all your fault. It’s part of it. When you feel like giving up, remind yourself that you need time to mourn the loss of who you were. It’s a process. It’s not the end.
Look up the stages of mourning. You’ll find where you are in the process. You know what may be hard to believe right now? You are dying the death that we all must die to really live. Isn’t that crazy? I’ve said this before, “They don’t call it death for dramatic flair.” It’s real, so real you doubt the hope of these words.
You are going to sprout something new from this. You’ll become what you were always supposed to become.
Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. - John 12:24
You are dying. You’ve said it yourself. Try to grasp what I am saying. This is a good thing. You are going to sprout and become part of something so much bigger than you. You know, this death to you is the only way you can get into The Kingdom. Did you know that? Think of every scripture you were taught and watch them all come to life. Feel the words blossom in your heart. Let the truth set you free.
Of course it was sin that got you here. Isn’t that the way it works? You have to know your own sin to really know the Savior. And, yes, I know you knew better. We all do. It’s written on our hearts. You can’t argue your way out of grace. You’re in a court room against a Judge who wants you free. He’s already signed your release.
Grace teaches more than anything else ever could. You see His hands in it, you can hear Him speak through it. It’s His very nature that you see in grace. Don’t doubt the implications, explore them. Balance them against scripture. Keep a journal, let Him write with your hand. Explore Him in your music. He’ll teach you the words.
It’s time for you to learn something new. It’s time for life to begin.
s
Are you out there? Are you searching for hope?
He heard you.
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Posted: May 27th, 2011 |
Filed under: life | Tags: grace, purpose |
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“Mom, I think Zoey went in the neighbor’s yard. I heard a dog screaming and it sounded like her.” - my 8-year-old daughter
I think she’s fine. My kids can be dramatic sometimes.
Zoey is our four-pound fur ball. She’s been a part of our family for almost five years. My five year old used to tuck her under her clumsy toddler arm and carry her everywhere. Zoey would just hang there, happy to be loved. She’s the enthusiastic greeter, the loyal couch cuddler, the equal opportunity lover.
“Mom, I climbed to look over the fence and I saw a white fluffy thing on the ground and two dogs standing over her.” -my 10-year-old daughter
I can tell when my kids are being dramatic. This isn’t one of those times. Her mind knew, but her eyes were begging me to reverse what she just saw.
“Are you serious?!” I knew she was, but maybe my eyes were begging her to reverse what she just said.
“Yes!” she wailed.
She wailed.
I screamed, “No!”. No. Because it wasn’t true. Zoey is not laying in our neighbors backyard. We don’t know him. He’s a single guy living in a rented house with two big dogs.
Zoey can catch flies with a snap of her teeth. She is a cuddler and will take turns cuddling with everyone in the house until the last person goes to bed. Then she sleeps with my ten-year-old. She’ll get up when my ten-year-old gets up and sleep with someone else until they get up. Four girls. Two adults. She’ll keep moving through the house, from bed to bed, until the last person gets up. And it’s usually me. She’s not laying on the ground in the neighbor’s backyard.
I wailed.
I pounded on the neighbor’s front door. He just moved there a couple of months ago. He could be a child molester. He could be social deviant. I pounded on the window next to the door. I pulsed the button to his doorbell until he opened it. His dogs were inside looking at me through the window.
“My dog!” I couldn’t breath. “Is in your backyard!”
Zoey was a 10th birthday present to my 15-year-old. She needed a bath.
“My dogs are inside.” - my confused neighbor
He’s older and in his pajamas. He doesn’t have very much furniture. His house looks bare and his dogs are wagging their tails.
“My dog is in your backyard!”
I wailed. I held myself up with my hand on his door frame.
Zoey used to let my five-year-old wrap her in a blanket and carry her like a baby. She would stay in the little doll bed until my five-year-old got her out.
I stood on my neighbor’s front porch waiting for him to come back from his backyard. His dogs were watching me through the window.
I couldn’t wait any longer. I ran to my backyard and climbed until I could see over the fence. I saw him standing over the white fluffy love on the ground.
Zoey.
“Is that her?!”
I knew the answer, but I wanted him to tell me I was wrong. I wanted that look in his eyes to go away.
I wailed.
My sobbing fifteen-year-old jumped the 6-foot fence. I ran around the houses to get in his yard.
“Can I come back there?” I screamed from the outside.
“Yes.”
I ran in his yard and saw her.
Zoey knew what time the school busses were supposed to get home. She would wait by the door until the girl’s opened it. She loved us so. One year, the girls were visiting family in California and were not coming home on the bus like they were supposed to. She stood by that door for an hour.
“NO!”
I was screaming.
I ran to her as though I could save her. She was laying on ground that wasn’t hers. On ground that her girls didn’t trample when they played. On ground that my husband didn’t cut for her. On ground that I never tread. She didn’t belong on that ground. I couldn’t stomach the thought of her dying on ground she didn’t know. Ground that could not cradle her with the familiar smells of love and home.
Lesson #1
When she crossed under the fence, did she know she would get in trouble? Or did she think she could check out the strange land and get back to safety? She found out she was in trouble when it was too late to turn back. Did she look, from the strange land, at her house, filled with her loves, and wish herself home? Can you wish yourself home?
You can’t wish yourself home. You can’t wish your poor decisions undone.
She needed me and I wasn’t there. I scooped her limp body into my arms and cradled her to my chest. She was still warm. Her eyes were open and gone. Was it my heart I felt beating? Was it my breath I felt against my chest?
“Zoey, I’m so sorry.”
I wailed.
“I didn’t understand what you meant. I’m so sorry.” - My distraught neighbor
I couldn’t hear him.
All I could think was: My daughter heard her screaming…
“Zoey, I’m so sorry.”
My children are crying. My heart is breaking.
I want my mom. No matter how old I get, I still want my mom when it hurts.
We drove to my parents house. We cradled her in our towel. We held her to our chests because we couldn’t let her go. We usually sing like an off-key pop version of the Von Trapp’s in the car. This time, our car was filled with the alternating silence of shock and and amplified sobs of mourning.
We made her pictures and wrote her letters and laid them in the burial box with her.
Her body grew cold. We couldn’t make her sweet eyes close. We buried her with our smells.
Lesson #2
I couldn’t stop thinking about our neighbor. He was new to our neighborhood and this was his first noticeable act.
My heart broke at the thought of him blaming himself. My heart broke at this wrench in his new beginning.
What in his life put him alone, with no belongings, in an expensive rental home? What kind of brokenness was he trying to dog-paddle? This man who goes to work in a fancy suit and a Lexus, but has no furniture, who is he?
I couldn’t stand the thought of what he was already going through, just to add to that….this. My heart ached. Like it was me.
I went to his house today…the day after.
“I just want you to know that I don’t blame you or your dogs.”
I couldn’t sleep last night thinking about the pain you might feel. The sense of responsibility for our pain that might rob your sleep.
He withered. “I couldn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t get the picture of your dog out of my head.”
I knew it.
Zoey could out-smart the girls when they ran in loops around the house to trick her. She didn’t mind always being ‘it’ in hide-and-seek.
He said, “They’ve never hurt anyone or anything before. I don’t know what happened.”
“They’re dogs.” I said.
They didn’t maul her. Just sunk their teeth into her side and shook her until her spine snapped. I didn’t understand it either.
“I know what it is to love a dog. To not think of them as dogs, but family. I can only imagine the pain in your house. I’m so sorry.” He said.
I knew he was. His whole body wilted at our forgiveness. His eyes were sad, but his manner was relieved.
What is it, sir, that this would have crushed in you? What battle are you fighting where this would have been the kill shot?
I don’t know his story, but I found out that he’s a prestigious figure in our local legal system. Maybe he’s going through a divorce where he gave his wife everything but his suit, his car, and his dogs. Maybe he is wracked from something in his life and this would have been too much.
I know that feeling. I know that when it rains, it pours. And, on my watch, I won’t let it rain on you. He needed to know his rain didn’t hurt us and our rain won’t hurt him. We’ve been there. We can’t stand by and let another drown in their own life.
I want to be a shelter that helps you find The Shelter. I want to be the soft place to land until you’re carried back home.
Oh, it hurts. It hurts so bad. But, the pain of a broken life can hurt so much worse.
Zoey would have jumped to welcome him if he ever came to our door. Zoey would have introduced him to our family and rolled over to let him rub her belly.
Sometimes we cross fences into territory we should never know. I know what that feels like. I can’t move forward knowing someone is stuck in their pain.
my 5-year-old's letter to Zoey "Stella never will see Zoey."
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Posted: May 25th, 2011 |
Filed under: life | Tags: love wins, purpose |
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You have a world of possibility and choices in front of you. You see lush life and the perfect fit between what you need and what you see. All you have to do is ram the staff of your flag into the ground and claim it as yours.
But, other people want it, too. Other people need the same things you need. You can muscle your way in, assert your right to happiness, and elbow to the front of the line, but is that the way it’s supposed to be done? In a space where God asks you to let Him guide you, it’s hard to not take the reigns and fight for the best acres of life.
Abraham and Lot were traveling with their families and belongings to find a place to settle and flourish. They came to a part of land where in one direction all they could see was lush beauty and promise and the other direction looked like second best.
Then Abram said to Lot, “Let there be no strife between you and me, and between your herdsmen and my herdsmen, for we are kinsmen. Is not the whole land before you? Separate yourself from me. If you take the left hand, then I will go to the right, or if you take the right hand, then I will go to the left.” -Genesis 13:9-10 ESV
God asks us to let our lives be ruled by love because He Is Love. Love doesn’t say, “me first.” Love gives the best and takes the left overs. If you live your life this way, it removes the control from your hands and lets God lead you.
But, most of the time it makes no sense. We are instinctually inclined to be guided by survival. ‘Survival of the fittest.’ Love doesn’t make sense.
“And Lot lifted up his eyes and saw that the Jordan Valley was well watered everywhere like the garden of the LORD, like the land of Egypt, in the direction of Zoar. (This was before the LORD destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah.) So Lot chose for himself all the Jordan Valley, and Lot journeyed east.” -Genesis 13:10-11 ESV
Abraham let Lot have the first pick and Lot chose the best piece of land. Abraham bid him farewell and headed in the direction of second best. He took each step knowing that God promised Him the best and it seemed that God’s promise was growing smaller behind his back.
When you let love guide your decisions, it releases God’s control in your life. You can’t see the future of what you think you want. You can’t see that the best piece of land was settled by something that could destroy you.
The best piece of land, the piece that Lot chose, was near Sodam and Gomorrah. It looked to be the best and to hold the most promise, but only God knew what lay ahead. Abraham chose to let love guide his steps and that made it possible for God to keep him far away from destruction.
God knows what He’s doing. Sometimes it may look like He’s forgotten you or He’s pouring out your promises on someone else. But, you have to know that things are not what they seem to be. There is so much that you want to do, places you want to go, lands you want to settle, but are, for whatever reason, stalled.
It is easy to get frustrated and impatient. Just remember that if you could see everything that God sees, you would trust Him without question. But, that’s where faith comes in. Faith that He has not forgotten you and that He will keep His promises to you. He’s given you a rope to hold on to while you’re wandering and waiting. That rope is love. Hold on to it and let Him work out the details.
Abraham eventually got the lush land, but He had to wait for God to get rid of the destruction first.
The LORD said to Abram, after Lot had separated from him, “Lift up your eyes and look from the place where you are, northward and southward and eastward and westward, for all the land that you see I will give to you and to your offspring forever. I will make your offspring as the dust of the earth, so that if one can count the dust of the earth, your offspring also can be counted. Arise, walk through the length and the breadth of the land, for I will give it to you.” -Genesis 13:14-17 ESV
Trust Him. He knows what He’s doing. He hasn’t forgotten you. If you have to wait, be glad. He’s making it perfect.
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Posted: May 5th, 2011 |
Filed under: life | Tags: purpose |
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By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was in the act of offering up his only son, of whom it was said, “Through Isaac shall your offspring be named.” - Hebrews 11:17-18 ESV
Being led by the Spirit means not being led by tradition. Abraham knew that God gave Isaac to him. It made no sense to sacrifice him, but he was listening to God and not his own understanding. He would have denied God if he did not obey.
Sometimes the things that are the hardest for us to do require the most inner strength and stubbornness to carry them out. People will object, your insides will twist, and you have to shut everything down to go into the spaces you have been told to go.
God may lead you somewhere for a purpose other than what you initially were told. Positioning, posturing, and inner strength can get you so far. However, if you shut all of your receptors off and stand in stubborn rigor, you will miss the Breath of life. Dead people stiffen right before they begin to decay.
Devotion to denominational or traditional belief will blind you in unbelief. Stubborn denial of something that contradicts your ideas will sear your conscience like a piece of meat on a grill. It will weld your heart behind an unrelenting and unrepenting fusion of steel. Your denial will be called ‘devotion’ and the discomfort will be seen as ‘testing’. You persevere in the wrong battle… the battle between you and God.
You know what God told you, and you’re right. He did tell you that. Just like He told Abraham to sacrifice Isaac.
If Abraham stuck to his own beliefs, if he stopped listening, he would have killed Isaac.
Who, by your own stubbornness, are you killing? Is it you? Are you in Spiritual rigor mortis?
If your heart has been seared shut, then it will have to be broken to be set free. Freedom becomes a prisoner to misguided beliefs. Freedom is the power behind compassion and love. Have you ever met someone so devout in their religion that they seem to be without a heart?
If you have been broken, whatever may have caused it, it’s a good thing. There is no room for mourning the loss of the old you when you see the purpose behind it. The seared seal over your heart has been split and now you can be dumped out to spill the wonderful you all over the place.
Posted: April 14th, 2011 |
Filed under: life | Tags: personal, purpose |
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Traylor Lavvorn of ‘Route1520: The Journey Home’ is hosting a week of stories from people whose ‘masks’ have been stripped away so that they can live in freedom. The series is titled ‘Unmasked’.
We always have an idea and a plan for our own lives, but it doesn’t take long before we learn that God has other ideas and plans. We all have a story and we don’t get to pick the parts that are used. More often that not, it’s the things we want to wish away that are the most potent.
What an amazing twist when our shame is brought out in the open and given a new name with a new purpose. Our weakness collides with His strength and there is nothing left but redemption. Our worst turned into a cause for praise.
You can read my story of being ‘Unmasked’ by clicking here. Be sure to check out the other stories this week. You may be able to identify with some of us and find hope for your journey from what you connect with on ours.
“God needed to strip away that thick layer of religion and reliance on anyone besides Him.” -Serena Woods: UNMASKED
Posted: March 19th, 2011 |
Filed under: life | Tags: grace, purpose |
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Unresolved damage from childhood can hide for years, only to resurface when you least expect it. Symptoms can surface in the form of repeating the damage or in the form of what the damage caused the child to believe.
Sin as an opportunity to examine a pattern of behavior leading up to the sin. You can follow that pattern backward and find the place where things went astray. When you are able to identify the sin as a symptom of something deeper, you can begin the healing process and weaken the chances of repeating that particular sin again.
When you look at it that way, you can thank God for showing you where you need to start focusing your attention.
Adults who were abused as children navigate life with the same survival tools they learned when they were being abused. Children of alcoholics tend to be people pleasers. Children who were sexually abused can either be promiscuous or uninterested. Children of violence can become violent. Emotionally abused children can grow up to be liars. Abandoned children can grow up to be co-dependant and unable to turn away love, in whatever form it shows up.
This is not always the case, but more often than not, it is. You don’t have to be a complete train wreck to be carrying around the residual affects of a bad childhood. People can be very talented at creating a reality for everyone else to see, while they stay hidden behind the photoshopped version of themselves. They are hurting and many of them are so used to the pain, they don’t even notice it’s there. But, if you get too close, they have their way of making you back off.
When a person suffers a major breakdown in character and discovers that the root is tangled up in something they thought they had buried for good, it will mess them up. A child is more resilient, but an adult dealing with childhood issues is a trauma. It’s like going back to the scene of a crime when nobody cleaned up the blood. In order to root out the sin, they have to unbury their worst nightmare. All the healing they thought they had done was just a pathetic bandaid. They resolved to never go back to that place, so now they’re faced with a crisis.
There are many people to whom God has given the ability to walk out of a fiery childhood without the seeds of it burrowing in their flesh and dropping from their pockets as they walk away. I was not one of them, but I know some of them.
None of this is an excuse, it’s a fact. It doesn’t mean that the person isn’t responsible for their sin, it means that they are in process. When sin blooms and becomes ripe, it may be the first time that person realized it was there. If this is their time to heal, then it will be the most excruciating time of their lives. But, if they can stick it out and work through it, they’ll be free. They need your tenderness, patience, and forgiveness. They need the love and grace that God pours into you to spill onto them. This is the chance for them to separate their identity from that sin, and no longer be controlled by it.
If your sin has shown it’s ugly face, it’s not the end of you. It’s the beginning of freedom. Trust that God knows what He’s doing. This isn’t meant to destroy you, it’s meant to destroy what is killing you. You’re going to make it. You may not be a child, but you’re His child and He wants you whole. He embraces every part of you, even your worst, so that you, every part of you, can embrace Him back.
Hang in there.
I will always show you where to go. I’ll give you a full life in the emptiest of places—firm muscles, strong bones. You’ll be like a well-watered garden, a gurgling spring that never runs dry. You’ll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew, rebuild the foundations from out of your past. -Isaiah 58:11-12
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Posted: March 16th, 2011 |
Filed under: life | Tags: grace, purpose |
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It’s hard to trust people with the depths of you. It’s hard to let them into the deep layers of failure and doubt. As we age, we learn the distance of safety and create protective boundaries. What lies within our walls is sacred, however flawed, it is who we are and we recognize the need to develop without being imprinted with misuse or stunted by being misunderstood. Only, we don’t realize we’re not developing and fear is what is stunting our growth. Boundaries are necessary, shutting everyone out isn’t.
I always kept people at a distance. I built my walls so that betrayal could never destroy me. I never let anyone in and I never came out. A symptom of my childhood. I was alone at the core of me, the depths that no one could understand without having walked in my shoes. I was the only one I could really trust.
I didn’t realize that keeping myself hidden away in soul deep isolation would become the ideal terrain for me to become prey to myself, my sin. An empty house with acres of seclusion became my prison when my flesh ripped separate and hunted what was left of my innocence… my, “I didn’t mean to.”
I became my enemy. I knew that no one would come and save me from myself. I wouldn’t have. Split in two with no desire to be joined with the ‘me’ in her, the self-hate was a bitter tongue.
Pushed to the wall, I called to God; from the wide open spaces, he answered. God’s now at my side and I’m not afraid; who would dare lay a hand on me? - Psalm 118:5-6
It was sheer desperation, a last resort, to run to the wall and open the door. I wanted the torment to be over and the only way out was to let the punishment in. Instead of running to me, He called out to ‘her’, the worst of me. Face to face with myself, who I hated, I had to forgive if I wanted to be with Him.
It took me a while to understand that by Him embracing my worst, I would never have to doubt Him again. I had to forgive myself so that I could understand what forgiveness was. I needed to know His love before I could love Him back.
I didn’t realize that I had kept Jesus at a distance. I trusted myself more than I trusted Him. When I betrayed my self-trust I was pushed to my walls clawing to get away from myself.
The tables have turned. He calls the shots. I no longer try to protect myself from Him because He protects me from me. Retrospect tells me that He knew that I wanted a relationship with Him, but I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know I didn’t know how. In order for me to learn, I needed to see my worst. If I clung to myself because of my self-trust, then it was my self-trust that needed to be shattered. Only when I couldn’t rely on myself, did I go running to Jesus. The only thing I hold on to now is Him because He promised that He’ll never let me go.
Every person the Father gives me eventually comes running to me. And once that person is with me, I hold on and don’t let go. – John 6:37
I don’t have to hide behind the walls of shame and fear. I trust Him and I trust what He did for me…for all of us. I went looking for Him, but He was already looking for me. With doors open and walls torn down, I know Who walks with me. Because of grace, I can live out in the open unashamed and drenched in in the tears of ‘thank you.’
By entering through faith into what God has always wanted to do for us—set us right with him, make us fit for him—we have it all together with God because of our Master Jesus. And that’s not all: We throw open our doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God’s grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise. - Romans 5:1-2
