Monthly Archives: February 2013

The Watermelon Perspective

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On this rainy morning, I slipped into my faithful parka and baseball cap and turned on the van to warm it up.  My tween and his friend piled in and off we went to school.

On the way, my son said a math joke, Math is the only subject where when someone buys 20 watermelons no one asks why!  Really?  Twenty stinkin’ watermelons??  That’s crazy!

His friend chimed in, It’s so they can cut them up, put them in a tennis ball shooter and shoot them out for target practice! Ha!

All the while, my mind is contemplating another use for 20 watermelons – to sculpt them into pretty fruit baskets and fill them with delicious fruit.

One woman.  Two tweens.  Twenty watermelons.  Three different perspectives.

After dropping them off I drove home smiling at the prospect of what the world would be like if we all listened a little more to those around us instead of just hearing ourselves.  Personally, I never would have questioned why someone needed 20 watermelons in a math problem, nor would I have ever shot them out of a tennis ball shooter for target practice.

These silly guys made me think outside my box this morning and I love it!  (However, I decided not to bore them with my fruit basket idea. :))

Today, I’m going to focus on listening more to others around me and make an intentional effort to see things from a different point of view.

Not only will I never look at a tennis ball shooter the same way again, but I’ll not be able to help myself from questioning why someone needs 20 large fruits when doing a math problem.  But, I also learned more about how these guys think, therefore I learned something new about them – all because I stopped talking and listened by opening my ears to what they had to say.

If this short conversation had such interesting (and amusing) results, just think what could happen if we talked less and listened more in the big stuff of life.  It would rock our world!  I will stop writing now because…I’m listening.  What do you hear?

When I Can’t Be…

I was 10 years old when my great-grandmother put a 110 Instamatic camera in my hands for the first time, and a camera has been in my hands ever since.

When trying to explain my passion for photography, someone once framed it well for me – it’s how I see the world.

She was spot on.

Relationships are like lenses on my camera.  Every relationship needs its own lens from zooms to wide angles to panoramic to macros, each person in my life is seen through their own lens depending on who I am to them: wife, mother, relative, friend, coworker in volunteering, neighbor and even stranger.

Recently, my lens in one relationship has become blurred.  I’ve had lenses that have broken, and this feels the same way.  I can’t focus clearly nor remove the fog built up under the glass to see the image accurately.

Frustrated, I try to continue this relationship with a broken lens.  Even more frustrating, I don’t know how it broke?  All I know is that isn’t not working.

Last night, I drove home in tears over this relationship and my inability to fix any part of it.  It’s a very helpless feeling to look at who I am to someone and know full well on their end that it’s not enough.

Truly unaware of why my lens, my role in this relationship, is broken is perpetually discouraging.  Deflating.

I am not a quitter.  Never have been.  So, I do all I know to do – keep the camera steady and use a broken lens.  But, I know that doesn’t work.  The results are fuzzy, off center, distorted, under lit, over exposed, etc.

As I drove home in tears, hands proverbially weary from holding the camera in this relationship, I cried out to God – quite frankly I will add.  I can’t change the lens.  I am one person to this person, and can’t be anything else.  We all are.  We can’t be mothers to our husbands, fathers to wives, strangers to our children, bossy to our coworkers, etc.  Roles – lenses – are defined.  So when I realized my role isn’t working, I don’t know who else to be!

That’s when God answered me – in the rain and dark of night on the city streets.

Be Jesus, He said.

Wow, if we ever wonder if God is really listening to us, it can be in those moments He shows up in such a personal way there is no question He hears every word, every thought.  He heard me last night and responded.  However, my reply was flat.

God, I am trying to be Jesus to this person in my role to them.  I am trying!

No, just be Jesus.  No one else.

It’s like God came along side me, put His hand gently on my camera, grasped His other hand on the neck strap, lifted it from around my neck and carefully took the camera from me.

Now be Jesus in this relationship.

I will say that this is first time I’ve ever seen the world without a lens.  I didn’t realize just how many lenses we have for our lives and how much they influence how we think.  Whether I’ve been a wife, missionary overseas, a neighbor chatting on the street, a mother of 3, a daughter, an in-law, or employee, these lenses also come with filters of emotions, external factors, internal factors, past experience, and our general perspectives.

It’s no wonder I am utterly exhausted from trying to work with a broken lens.

Just be Jesus.  Hmm.  What does that look like?  I recalled different moments in Jesus’ life as He traversed this planet 2,000 years ago.  He exhibited an array of emotions and actions.  He laughed, cried, got righteously angry, worked hard, admonished, encouraged, was tired, got frustrated, healed, didn’t heal, taught, listened, suffered, was sad, disciplined, needed time alone, stood His ground, escaped, was powerful, strong, weak, attentive, dismissive, stern, gentle, was hated and was loved.

As I drove the wet streets, hand shaking and my spirit feeling faint, God prompted me to recall some of Jesus’ names: King of kings, Lord of lords, the Way, Savior, Healer, Friend, Brother, Emmanuel, Son of God, the Second (or Last) Adam, The Word, Messiah, Bridegroom, Lamb of God, our Shepherd, Bread of Life, the Branch, the Vine, Rose of Sharon, Bright and Morning Star, Horn of Salvation, Rock, Husband, Builder, God, Deliverer, Shield, Righteous Judge, Helper, Portion, Servant, and Prince of Peace to name a few.

Prince of Peace!  When those three words came out of my mouth my heart leapt in agreement.

God was asking me to put down my camera and see this relationship through the eyes of Jesus, our Prince of Peace.

I can’t tell you what that did to me in that moment.  I have been desperate for help to know the next step to take, but was so bound up in my role to this person that I felt caught in a house of mirrors – my role reflected everywhere I looked.

He removed all of the mirrors and there I sat, knowing exactly how to respond to this person.  Be peace.

There is a season for everything.  Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 can relate to relationships (with, of course, modification of appropriate boundaries and actions)…

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under heaven:

2     a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
3     a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
4     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
5     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
6     a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
7     a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
8     a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

God was prompting me to be peace to this person.  But, not through my relational lens. Be peace the way Jesus is peace.

My entire view of this person changed.  I saw them how He sees them.  To simply be Jesus to them, I was able to feel compassion, had a clear mind, and my hands stopped shaking.  My heart rate returned to normal.  My breathing slowed down.  A sense of calm washed over me like a warm bath.  I was in a complete state of peace, because for one thing I was emotionally released (if only for a time) from being locked into a certain role to this person.  I could lay that down and be Jesus to them.  Also, I was reminded that God is over all.  He sees everything, and nothing passes through His hands that He can’t use for His glory and our best interest.  This enabled me to look up to Him and not be trapped looking only at the circumstance that surrounds me.

So Jesus I will be to this person for as long as God says to.  No strings attached.  It’s a ministry opportunity and I welcome the prospect of being part of the solution and not part of the problem.

When I can’t be who my relationship defines I should be, I can be Jesus.

My camera usually stays within feet from me so I never miss a shot.  God has asked me to take this particular lens off and let Him repair it.  I gladly release it to Him.  I trust Him.

If you have a relationship in your life where you feel you’ve tried everything you know to be the right person, try being Jesus.  Just Jesus.  Not Jesus-husband, Jesus-wife, Jesus-friend, Jesus-relative, Jesus-father, Jesus-mother, Jesus-coworker.  Just…Jesus.

It’s an entirely different perspective – one I needed.  I see this person differently.  I see the world differently.  I see myself differently.  All of it laced with grace, truth and hope.

What do you see when you look at your life, your world, through the eyes of Jesus?

Diary of Thankfulness

Today I found myself saying, Thank You, Lord, throughout the day and want to write these moments down so as to not forget the blessings that make an ordinary day extraordinary.

I am thankful for the opportunity to stay home with my sick child.  I remember when I was his age, if I was sick I had to stay at my grandparents’ home for the day while my mom worked.  She wanted to be home with me, and I knew that even as a tween, but she had no choice.  My grandparents were wonderful people.  I loved them dearly.  But, no one fully replaces a mother’s touch.  She knows what your favorite drink is, television show is, and when you took your medicine last.  I got to be that to my sweet boy today.  With every cough, I winced in compassionate pain.  With every ringing of the thermometer, I said a prayer it wasn’t high.  I loved being able to put socks on his feet and kiss the bottoms of them, breathing in the smell of clean laundry.  I loved propping his pillows, filling his humidifier and stroking his hair.  I am blessed to be here for my family and there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

I am thankful that I had to park so far from the doors of Wal Mart this evening.  I trolled the parking lot in my van, like everyone else, hoping for a close spot.  It’s cold and wet outside – bleck – and I wanted to get inside asap.  But, no such space could be found.  Two blessings popped up in the parking lot aisle.  First, I was stuck behind a couple walking so slowly I thought I would go insane!  They never once cared that I was behind them.  They were intent on their conversation, pushing their cart and looking at each other while speaking.  Their gray hair and wrinkled skin were signs of many years together.  My frustration (because had they moved over a few feet I could have driven around them) turned into a longing that I hope to be old and gray, leaving the store with my man, and be so in love after all those years that I cared not who was around me as long as I was with him and listening to the sound of his voice and admiring the smile on his handsome face.

I am thankful for grace.  I am a rule follower, but not perfect by any stretch of the imagination.  After meandering around the super center (overwhelming!), I snaked my way to check out.  The endless checkouts were full of people.  My head spun.  I found a 20 items or less lane and dashed for it.  Once in line, I began to count my items.  Ug.  There were a few more than 20 hiding beneath the bulkier stuff that covered them.  I don’t care if someone with more than 20 is in front of me, but these days everyone keeps their panties in so much of a wad that I had no idea what society would do to me.  Trust me, I’ve had people say the weirdest things to me over the years for far less than 20+ items.  The cashier was just as friendly to me at the end of the sale as she was at the beginning – after ringing up said 20+ items.  I really appreciated her turning a blind eye.  And, for the woman behind me.  She could see into my cart – full view.  But, she said nothing.  I was late picking up my other kids, it was dark, hubby was at home with sick son waiting with dinner…I really just needed to check out and leave.  It’s as though God shushed everyone and let me pass.  If we are honest, we all need a pass sometimes.  That’s why I don’t freak out when I’m the one waiting in line behind said 20+ item customer.  It must be their turn for a pass.

I am thankful that I could go to the store and replace the empty bag of cough drops, a bottle of vitamin C and honey without fearing an overdraft in my account.

I am thankful for driving my teens all over town tonight to their activities because: it means they are healthy and can do a sport they love to do, we have a van to drive around in that is warm and reliable (and although it’s 6 years old it’s paid for!!!), and it creates stolen moments of time with my teens that lends itself to great conversation with a captive audience – and that goes both ways.  My son drives, so he gives me a break and the 3 of us get to shoot the breeze about our days.  It is precious time that is the fabric of our days.

I am thankful for a faithful husband and children who love me no matter what.  We are a motley crew of love, forgiveness and laughter all wrapped up into one ball of organized chaos and I love it.

I am thankful for my dog who always greets me at the door – every single time.  She thinks each of us hung the moon!  Everyone needs someone in their life who thinks they can do no wrong – even if that someone is furry and walks on all fours.

I am thankful for a hot meal and deeply spiritual conversation with the family tonight.  Good stuff.  Nothing taken for granted.

I am thankful for a moment tonight to reflect on some of the blessings of the day.  These are just a few.

I am thankful for the opportunity to pray for friends and family.  We are community and have each others’ backs.  What would I do without them?

I am thankful for praying over my children.  What an honor.  I love that my oldest son, in the nest for only a couple of more years, still comes to me at my computer late at night just to tell me he loves me one more time.  And for my daughter who asks me to help fix her hair.  For a teenage girl to ask her mom to help her with her hair – that’s a huge compliment!  I love how she and I have our own girl club here, being outnumbered by the guys and all.

People spend too much energy rating their blessings.  If it’s big, then it’s special and deserves praise.  I love the big blessings, but it’s the small ones that remind me how well God knows me – and that’s a big deal.  He finds ways to bless us that are so personal, so unique to just our lives, it makes me smile and shake my head in wonder.

I am thankful for His love, protection and hand of mercy that leaves its fingerprints all over my life.  When a believer begins to grasp the grace and mercy and unconditional love God has for us (and the whole world), then we can release all of our worries and fears and fully trust Him to work His plan in our lives.  That is true contentment, and I am going to sleep tonight feeling very content.  I hope you can, too.

Lastly, I am thankful for a healthy body that was able to do all of these things today.  Clarity of mind, physical strength and good health are far too often taken for granted.  I’ve watched loved ones suffer without one or more of these.  I’ve suffered without physical strength and good health.  When I lay down to go to sleep, it will be with a tired body that will know it’s a good tired because it was used in love and service to my family and community.

Tomorrow is another day, and I will look for the hidden blessings along the path God has willed for my life.  I pray the same for you.  Until then, here’s to being thankful for one of life’s sweetest, richest blessings…rest.  Ahh.

I prayed the wrong prayer

I’ve had missions on my mind heart and mind so much lately as sign-up deadlines approach.  In the post, An honest look at missions, I divulged some of the fears I’ve felt this year about returning to the global mission field.  In, The day I touched fear, I explored more deeply what those fears look like from the inside out.

Today, it’s a totally different story.  Just when I thought things were beginning to settle down in my mind, God had something unexpected prepared for last Thursday.

It began on Wednesday night.  We were at church for dinner before nightly activities began.  Serving the salad bar was a man I highly respect and admire (though I am not sure he knows it).  His and his wife have dedicated their retirement years to taking their grandchildren, one by one, on mission.  It is their gift to them.  I had never heard of this, but now, Lord willing, Bruce and I would love to do the same thing one day.  So my dear friend, Kermit, said Hello – always with a smile – when he saw me approach.  Hi Kermit!  I replied cheerfully, always happy to see him.

When I see him I think of one thing…Kenya.  He and his wife were part of our team in 2011 that went on mission to Kenya.  Let me just tell you that this man was incredible throughout the entire journey.  He never uttered a complaint, never said No, never looked tired, nothing!  He trucked on every day with whatever the agenda was.  Our team leaders, Don and Pat, also grandparents, as well as Kermit’s wife, Kay, were exactly the same way.  They have no idea how much I watched them work through every unexpected trial and celebrate every great moment.  Kenya was my first global mission trip as well as the first time I had ever left the States.  I was wide-eyed at the whole thing and loved every surreal moment.

Kermit was a mentor to me on that trip whether he realized it or not.  Whether it was sawing wood at an orphanage, washing feet at a children’s school on the side of the mountain, digging trenches for a foundation, or harvesting corn for an orphanage, his attitude was always an enthusiastic Yes.  At any given time you could find him quietly working – never for accolades, never bringing attention to himself.  He simply did what he came to do – serve.  And serve with a joyful heart he did.

Copyrighted photos for Real Deep Stuff - Page 194

Copyrighted photos for Real Deep Stuff - Page 195

He and his wife brought one of their grandsons with them who was graduating high school and wants to go into medicine.  He was able to observe surgeries at the only hospital in the entire area servicing 850,000 people.  So in addition to tireless efforts of physical work and long van rides across unbelievable bumpy roads, Kermit and Kay spent quality time with their grandson in the evenings encouraging him in his passion for medicine.

You can see why I am so taken back with them.  Role models.  Inspirational.

A few Sundays ago, when I was really struggling with feelings of fear of going on global mission, I stood with the congregation at church while everyone sang – but me.  Tears streamed down my cheeks.  I could not utter a word.  I was overwhlemed with emotion because in the choir stood men (including Kermit) and women who have been on mission all over the world, and yet they were able to stand and smile while singing Chris Tomlin’s song Whom Shall I Fear…

You hear me when I call, You are my morning song, Though darkness fills the night, It cannot hide the light…

Whom shall I fear?

You crush the enemy, Underneath my feet, You are my Sword and Shield, Though trouble lingers still…

Whom shall I fear?

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side.  The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

My strength is in Your name, For You alone can save, You will deliver me, Yours is the victory

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side.  The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

Whom shall I fear?  Whom shall I fear?

And nothing formed against me shall stand, You hold the whole world in your hands, I’m holding onto Your promises, You are faithful, You are faithful, You are faithful

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side. The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

I know Who goes before me, I know Who stands behind, The God of angel armies, Is always on my side. The One who reigns forever, He is a Friend of mine, The God of angel armies, Is always by my side…

The God of angel armies is always by my side.

(Read more: CHRIS TOMLIN – WHOM SHALL I FEAR (GOD OF ANGEL ARMIES) LYRICS)

 It has been people I know who have inspired me the most to take our family on mission.  Celebrities make headlines and win humanitarian awards, but far and away it is people who quietly go about the Lord’s business, sacrificing their hard-earned money and vacation time, who I look at and think, Maybe I can do it, too.

With that thought, an unexpected conversation came up between my husband and me.  I was sitting in the Wal-Mart parking lot with the bright morning sun beaming into the van last Thursday.  I called him to briefly chat about missions.  We’ve been so upside down and inside out about it that we seem to talk in circles.  Frustrating.

I told him that I felt a new passion to go back to Ukraine.  As for Kenya, that is still undecided.  I heard myself say to him with confidence and certainty, I’m going to Ukraine.  He basically said, Okay, but I’m not sure what I’m doing.

After the phone call, I sat silent in the van.  Something didn’t seem right.  Why wasn’t I excited that half of my decision for this year’s missions had been finally – at long last – decided?  I should’ve felt relieved, joyful and sure.  Instead, I felt very anti-climatic about the whole thing.

God spoke to me in the van and said, Why is this only about you?  Are you not half of a whole?

Immediately, my heart understood.

To know me is to know I’ve struggled my entire adult life trying to live a life of biblical submission to my husband.  It’s not how I was raised, as my biological father and step father both left my life at early ages.  I grew to be a headstrong, independent and self-reliant woman.  Partially out of mistrust of men, and partially because I never wanted to be hurt again and believed people will only let you down – especially those who are supposed to have your back.

I have such a stubborn, independent streak in me it is nearly impossible to ever ask for help of any kind from anyone.  It’s not a control thing.  It’s an I’m going to end up having to do it anyway so why go through the grueling process of involving others because they are only going to let me down thing.

So, without me even realizing it, missions had become yet another area where I took the ball and ran.  Rather than looking at these opportunities with my heart toward my husband, I was peering through the glasses of practicality and reasonability.

I had been praying the wrong prayer of God, where do You want to send me?  Instead of, God where do you want to send us?

I didn’t even realize I had morphed my independent nature into missions!  Bruce and I are different people with different passions.  But, we are two halves of a whole.  When we made a covenant oath at the altar almost 23 years ago, we were joined into one flesh.

Leaving consideration for him out of my prayer was selfish.  And it was the feeling of, I got my way, that I felt in the van that left me celebrating alone.

Despite my good intentions of doing God’s kingdom work here on earth, my carnal nature creeped into my thoughts.  Here’s why…the first two mission trips were very scary for me.  I am not a seasoned world traveler.  I am not bilingual.  I am not proficient in cultural differences around the world compared to my own – other than the obvious ones.

It was all of these I’m nots that kept me from feeling qualified or invited to go on mission for my entire life until now.  Fast forward – jumped those hurdles, but it still took more courage than I could muster up to commit, particularly because these mission trips involved taking our children which I take very seriously.  I needed Bruce to make the final call.  As the leader of our home, I needed him to say yes or no.  So for both trips, I passed the baton to him to decide.

This year, however, it felt very different for me.  I’ve been to both places, so there aren’t near as many unknowns.  I also understand more what is expected from me from the team.  I simply feel more prepared than before – as much as it is possible to feel.

Enter my stubborn independence.

I was ready to possibly take an entirely different mission trip from my husband, without ever hearing his final point-of-view…and God let me feel every last ounce of that loneliness.

There is a time and season for everything, and I am sure there will come a time when we do participate in different mission trips, but neither one of believe that time has come yet.  It was out of sheer self-reliance that I went ahead and told him what I was going to do.  Hmm.  Then God brought to mind our crazy life.  Between work, kids, and all of our commitments, we have to scratch and claw for anytime together.  It could always be worse, but it’s not ideal.  We know this is a season of life, and all too soon our house will be deafeningly quiet and I will mourn for the wonderful chaos that greets me in the morning and tucks me in at night.

Given that, why would I not bat an eye at the possibility of spending weeks apart?  I believed my own lie of being too independent.  God brought to mind my biological father and his wife.  You’ve never seen a closer couple.  They were best friends.  Inseparable.  Loving.  Considerate.  Two halves that made a beautiful whole.

I want that.

Watching her care for him in his last days, the intimacy they shared – the eye contact, touch, whispers, – was the result of many years of building a marriage that was committed.  Resolute.  I used to think it was a little over the top that they always had to sit together, go places together, etc.  Now that he is gone, I see that they were intentional about making the most of their time together.  There were their own persons, yes, but they never forgot they were two halves of a whole.

After pondering all of this, still sitting in the parking lot, I texted Bruce.  This is what I wrote, Hi Honey, I wanted to tell you that after giving it a lot of thought, I would rather go with you on mission to wherever than without you on mission to wherever.  I often think about Ray and Gail and their relationship.  They were inseparable.  They were best friends and did everything together.  I would like to see that for us in missions, so I concede to wherever it is you want to go just as long as we can be together or unless God says differently.  We are one flesh, one team, and I don’t want to break up the team.  Think about it and let me know.  I love you.

That text was surprisingly freeing for me!  I felt like my heart was finally in a place of peace.  Funny, the first two years I needed him to make the decision as to where to go. This year, I asked him to.  I may have felt my inner wild horse buck and kick, but my heart knew that missions isn’t one more thing I want to lead us on different paths.

Yesterday, a dear friend of mine (who went to Ukraine with us last year) asked me if we were going to sign-up for it this year.  With a calm, peaceful smile I was able to genuinely reply, I’m waiting on Bruce to make that call…and if so, I’m leaving it up to him to sign up us.

That, friends, is the work of the Holy Spirit because the independent woman writing this would normally take matters into her own hands.

She smiled at me and said, Oh, you’re working on the “s” word, huh?  I laughed because I knew what word she meant – submission.   Indeed I am.  Waiting for Bruce to write our names down is very important to me for whatever reason.  I suppose it shows his iniative after much prayer and discussion, though I haven’t told him this is my wish.

Last night, before we left to watch the Superbowl with some friends, Bruce casually told me as we gathered coats and a chocolate cake,  Oh by the way, earlier today I put our names down for Ukraine.

His words stopped me in my tracks in the middle of the kitchen.  Later, I circled back with him and inquired.  He agreed that this is the only option for our family to go on mission all together.  He feels a peace about it and we are all excited.  God knew my secret wish for Bruce to write our names down on any of the trips we take this year, and He directed Bruce to do so out of loving consideration for me.  God is the good God and knows our secret thoughts.  Incredible.

So, one decision down and one to go – Kenya.  God has given us much peace that this decision will come in His timing, not ours.  So be it.  For now, I look forward to going back to people we fell in love with in Eastern Europe; to work with a team we greatly admire; we get to take all of our kids; and…most of all…Bruce and I have the blessing of going on mission together.

God is good.  Actually, He is amazing!  Every year, the decisions we have made about missions have been completely unique to the trip.  This year is no different.  God’s ways are not our ways, and His timing certainly doesn’t hold itself to our society’s demand for instant information, but His ways are best.  Had He given us the answer early on, I would have missed a teachable moment to see that in this process, Bruce and I walked dangerously close to the line of separating our longitude and latitude, once again, for the good of the cause.  We do enough of that in our daily lives.

When the time comes to travel separately for missions, God will give us a peace about that and we will perfectly okay with it.  For now, I write to testify that Philippians 4:6-7 really works in and through all things – even with a strong-willed, autonomous person like myself. 😉

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

Today, and on mission, I won’t forget I am half of a whole.  Colossians 3:15 reminds us – Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.

Thankful, indeed.

The day I touched fear

Copyrighted photos for Real Deep Stuff - Page 193It was a hot, sunny day on the west coast of Florida.  I was with my husband and his family visiting his younger brother in college.  Beach-dwellers that we are, we embarked on a day of sun, sand and water.

I stood at the tide line and gazed out at the watery horizon.  We were planning to snorkel, not something I’m crazy about doing.  There just seems something really unnatural about breathing through a tube underwater.  I usually wind up semi-hyperventilating because I am unable to regulate my breathing.  I imagine all kinds of what-if scenarios:  a drop of water spilling into the snorkel causing my airway to close, a wave engulfing my snorkel with the same result, etc.  Let’s just say it, I don’t like to snorkel, but was willing to be a good sport and go along with the family plan.

A long, thick, dark line rippled in the water.  Squinting, I saw it was a large band of seaweed that stretched across the water in both directions as far as I could see.  To make matters worse, the seaweed began The Deep.  You know, where the tidal shelf drops into oblivion and  creatures of the sea play in their playground.

I love, love, love the sea and all that is in it.  From sharks to angler fish to sea urchins, I will never stop getting a kick out of God’s creativity, imagination and ingenuity that is so proudly displayed in the creatures of the sea.  But, I also know humans weren’t meant to live in it, and thus we enter their territory. I fully respect that it is their home and not mine.

Splashing around in shallow water is one thing.  Venturing into the deep, dark unknown is another.  I swallowed hard and felt my stomach turn.  I reasoned that as long as I didn’t touch the seaweed, I would be in the safer, shallow water.

Got it.  The seaweed is my marker.  It was the beginning of The Deep.  I will tolerate snorkeling as long as I don’t touch a thread of the nasty stuff.

Bruce, his brother and I waded out into waist-high water, fighting against the crashing waves and stubborn under toe.  They both dipped headfirst into the water with only the tips of their snorkels spouting up in the air and an occasional flipper kicking behind them.

My turn.

I took a deep breath then practiced a few normal breaths through the snorkel.  My chest was already heaving.

Just go already, I said to myself, not wanting to fall behind.

I leaned forward and fell face-first into the murky water.  Phase 1 complete.

I began to kick my flippers, swimming parallel to the beach as the current tried to pull me toward the shore.

Don’t touch the seaweed, Kristi.  Whatever you do, don’t touch the seaweed! I reminded myself over and over.  I didn’t want to be anywhere near the abyss that housed mysterious creatures lurking who knows how closely by.  Florida, after all, is home to some of the largest shark populations in the world.  Love them!!!!  But, I don’t need a close encounter with them unless its through a cage.

I tried to follow the shadowy figures of my husband and brother-in-law.  It was really hard to see in the water thick as pea soup.

All of a sudden, you guessed it, I felt the seaweed.  It brushed up against my left arm, then my left leg.  It tickled my stomach, and longer strands grazed my hair.

Before I knew it, I was completely tangled up in the mess of it!  It was all over me as if I were a small fly caught in an enormous spider web.  The more I struggled to break free, the worse it got.

Couple this moment with the fact that I’m definitely hyperventilating through the dumb snorkel and I can only imagine the show I must have given the sun worshipers on the sandy beach.  I probably looked like I was wrestling an alligator (which have been known to make an appearance!).

My body was flailing horizontally on the water’s surface as I struggled to remain clam.  Nope.  I was too far gone for that.  My lungs grew hot as I held my breath, not wanting any water to fill my snorkel, and my arms and legs were utterly caught in the disgusting seaweed.  I could no longer see my husband or brother-in-law and knew I had been separated from them.  I was in big trouble.  I had been pulled into the seaweed by the current and was in The Deep – alone.

Just don’t try to stand up, Kristi.  Then you’ll know how really deep you are and that will make matters worse, I counciled myself.

No such luck.  The will of self-preservation kicked in and I shot out of the water like a rocket, breathing a huge, obnoxious gulp of air with eyes bulging and body shaking.

To my surprise, and embarrassment, I nearly tackled my poor brother-in-law!  He was only about a foot in front of me, and I landed right in his face.  He had turned toward me in the same moment I sailed through the air like a swordfish with a sheer look of horror on my face.

When I landed, my feet plunged into the sand much sooner than I expected to in The Deep.

Well, that is because I wasn’t actually in The Deep.  I stood up and realized the water was barely to my waist.  There I stood, with seaweed draped on me like a swamp monster, heaving, snorkel floating nearby in the water, trembling with mouth agape at the whole escapade.

He looked with shock and bewilderment at the scene I had created.

I quickly gathered my composure (on the outside), gave a sheepish smile and apologized for my weird behavior and told him I was fine.

He gave me an Okay, but I don’t really believe you, you crazy woman glance, then turned around and continued snorkeling.

I, however, could only stand there and process what had happened.  I looked again at the band of seaweed, and from where I was standing in the water, it wasn’t drifting as far out to sea as it looked like from the shore.  Nor could I judge how deep the water was with sand in between my toes.

We were, in fact, a safe distance from The Deep.  Everything changed when I saw it from a different longitude and latitude.  Boy did I feel ridiculous!

That experience has never left me – nor the lesson it taught me.

I learned that fear is powerful.  Very powerful.  It can affect us mentally, emotionally and physically.  Fear of the unknown allows much room for us to fill in the blanks with worst-case scenarios.

What began as a fun day at the beach with my extended family turned into, in my mind, a life-or-death situation where I was being pulled out to sea and straight into the mouth of something much larger and stronger than me.

There were multiple layers of fear that day.  Fear of being separated from my family.  Fear of being alone.  Fear of not being able to control the situation.  Fear of what may have its eye on me.  Fear of just how deep the trouble I was in – way over my head.  Fear of not being able to breathe.  Fear of being helpless and being beyond help.  And fear that this horrible moment will never, ever end!

Were any of those fears real?  Well, some – to a point.

If I had been separated from my family, I guess I believed I would have been lost forever.  This stems from abandonment issues – 20 years later I am still working on courtesy of childhood scars.  The truth is, my family wouldn’t have left the beach without me.  They would have, at some point, noticed I was gone, and felt like I was worthy enough to come find me.

I don’t know many people who like being alone lonely.  Let me clarify that.  I love being alone, but have a very hard time handling loneliness   I had that in spades growing up, and if I never feel lonely again it would be too soon.  I thoroughly enjoy time by myself, but that’s not the same as being lonely.  Being lost in the ocean would have been the bad kind of being alone, but again, I didn’t believe at the time that I was worth searching for.  Enter lonely and afraid.

Fear of a lack of control.  Please raise your hand if you struggle with this, too!  Don’t we all want to be the captain of our ship in some way?  It’s our carnal nature to turn our compass in the direction we want to go.  And, if we could control the weather, the water, the sun and the moon so as to plan our trip, well, that would be even better.  In the moment of sheer panic in the ocean that day, trusting God for my safety was the last thing on my mind.  Was He not watching?  Seeing?  Still sovereign on His throne? (Psalm 121)  Does He not care for us all of the time? (Matthew 6:25-34)

And yes, anytime we venture into a world where we are the minority, the foreigner, there is risk.  Listen to survivors tell their stories of being lost in the Amazon, on the African plains, in ice caverns, etc.  When we are in these places – we play by the rules of nature there.  Sure, there could have been something in the water, but again, I had total amnesia as to God’s hand of protection or His plans for my life.  Even if I had been attacked by a shark, could God still not find a way to use it for my good and His glory?  He can…with our cooperation.

Sometimes we get into trouble over our head either by choice or by default.  I had lost sight of God as Rescuer either by the hand of a loved one or stranger, or any other creative means He may choose to save me.  I believed the situation was bigger than me and God.  That is wrong.  Lots of things are bigger than me, but nothing is bigger than God.  I never asked Him to save me.  That makes me sad.  He is my Good Father and I forgot to call on Him when I needed help.

Life feels suffocating sometimes.  We feel helpless.  This is a recipe for panic and anxiety.  God is God of peace and order.  He controls all, all the time.  Nothing happens to us that hasn’t passed through His hands first.  He can never be surprised, shocked or unprepared for what life may bring. We can be blindsided.  He never closes His eyes.  When we are at our worst, weakest and most helpless, He is our superhero, our Savior.

Ah.  The last fear – that the moment will never end.  That was a low blow from the enemy.  Nothing on this earth will last forever.  No, I take that back.  There are two things – God’s Word and our decision as to where to spend eternity.  Everything else will fade away (Matthew 24:35).  Everything.  When we are caught in a moment that feels like a downward spiral pulling us further from the oxygen we need so badly to get through a tough situation, it is easy to merely see the darkness enveloping around us.  But, broaden our lens and we see that even darkness is as light to God.  Nothing is hidden from Him (Psalm 139:12).

I’ve been thinking about this experience lately in regards to missions.  I’ve let fear take me hostage on a runaway train of imagination and exaggeration and have felt every fear that I did at the beach that day.  There are risks to missions, but there is risk walking to our mailbox, driving to work, and anything we do.  Anything.  When deciding what to do about missions this year, it would behoove us to deliberately, intentionally, boot fear to the curb.  It has no place in God’s calling.

What are you fearful about?  Have any big decisions weighing on you?

I think God understands we feel fear because He remembers we are made of dust (Psalm 103:13-14).  We aren’t superhuman like He is.  But, when we choose to see things from His longitude and latitude (a heavenly perspective, I might add), we are reminded of just how much He loves us and never takes His eyes off of us (Psalm 17:8).  And, the more we turn from our natural instinct to fear and choose to think like Him, the more we can see His divine plan at work in our lives.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. ~ Romans 12:2

Whether heading out for a fun day at the beach, or stepping out in faith on mission, there is one Truth that remains – and it is enough for all who call on Christ as Savior…

Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. ~ Joshua 1:9

Dear Lord, lead on.  Amen.