Category Archives: Faith

Seasons of Change

“…I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.” ~ Philippians 4:11-13

After holding a few lemonade stands in an effort to raise enough money to buy a pet, my daughter handed my husband a plastic bag heavy with coins and a few dollar bills in return for payment for her beloved creature.  He, in turn, bestowed upon me the honor of using said currency to buy our groceries since he would, reasonably, use bills to pay for the pet.  I was, in fact, left holding the bag.

This afternoon, my daughter and I went to the grocery store to pick up a few necessities.  At checkout, I pulled the plastic baggie from my purse, and she and I began to count out the coins.  The person behind me peered over the cash register, saw what I was doing, and abruptly changed lanes.  Who could blame her?  The next gentleman in line did the same thing.  Oh well.  I had coins to count.

The third person stayed in position, but stared at me – which by the way, makes me nervous…counting with someone looking over my shoulder.

My daughter and I worked quickly, and I remarked under my breath with a chuckle, I’m the person no one wants to be behind – trying to confront the elephant in the room.

The teenage cashier replied, Oh it’s okay.  You do what you have to do.  There’s been plenty of times my mama and I had to hunt the house looking for change to buy what we needed.  You take all the time you need.  I’m here until 10 o’clock. 

Hmm.

She was very kind, but she misread the situation.  However, I now felt compassion towards her because she had been in more than one circumstance when change is all her family had to get by.

As I handed her $26 dollars and 25 cents in jingling change, I pondered her perspective.  There has been a lot of change over the years – for better and worse.  There was a time when, in the very same grocery store, I had to buy my family’s groceries with food stamps.  They aren’t the small green stamps my mom used, rather an electronic debit card of sorts.  Still, one selects the EBT button on the payment machine just the same.

Our children were 5, 3 and 1 years old.  The company my husband worked for dissolved a week before September, 11, 2001 with no last paycheck, no severance, no insurance.  We were in a really bad way financially and occupationally.

Think back farther.  We live where we do because a company my husband worked for in another state merged with another company – leaving us very few options.

Think back farther.  We worked our way through college together.  We carefully considered every single penny.  Dinner was often nachos (tortilla chips, jarred salsa and cheddar cheese).  Our dates were always at lunch when restaurant meals are less expensive and we enjoyed blockbusters at matinee prices.  We were completely content.

Think back farther.  My husband asked me to marry him on my 18th birthday.  He previously asked my grandfather for my hand, and my grandparents joyfully agreed.  However, when I told them the big news the next morning, they were speechless.  They thought he meant after college.  Here he was, 22 and exiting the military service.  He had no job, no permanent address, no money.  They gave us their blessing nonetheless, but no financial help.  They loved us that much, as did his parents, and I thank them for it.

Over the years, we’ve weathered job loss, company mergers, relocation, temporary jobs, full-time work and freelance jobs.  We aren’t afraid to work hard, and we trust the Lord to take care of us.

I’ll admit that knowing what the cashier was thinking made me a little embarrassed.  It’s a shot to one’s dignity.  But, as fast as that feeling came, a smile grew across my face knowing that God has indeed been faithful no matter what our checking account balance has been.  I also smiled at life, thinking back on seasons of our marriage and affirming that hard times grow us closer together.

Tonight, as we gratefully ate the food those handfuls of coins bought us, I thought about our 22 years together and the change that has accompanied it –  both literally and proverbially.

My husband and I have the Lord, each other and our kids.  We have extended family who are priceless to us and friends who love us deeper than family.  We are blessed with good health.  Most of all, we have Christ as the center of our lives.  Everything in our entire lives revolves around Him – not the other way around.

We will go to sleep knowing we are loved by God and by each other, and because of that I feel like the richest girl in the world.

The Great Sendoff

As I have fallen off the grid lately, intentionally, I have stolen a few moments here and there to just check in to see where the world is at.  A brief glance at Facebook, and I am reminded why this is my least favorite time of year.

Here they come.  Posts of friends and their sons and daughters headed to college.  Packed cars, unpacked dorm rooms and, in a few words or more, posts stream in about how proud and happy and sad parents are.

This takes my breath away.

I have endured such traumatic loss in my lifetime, I cannot bear the thought of my kids leaving home.  Naturally, I want the best for them.  God’s best for them.  But, I know the road of loss – and apart from not walking with God – it is the most lonely road in the entire world.

I read the posts and admire the photos, then the lump in my throat swells.  Eyes sting with salty tears.  My heart sinks as if it were my turn to kiss my babies’ heads one more time before closing the car door and leaving them on the green campus of their new home.

I just can’t take it.

It’s a selfish feeling, not wanting them to ever leave.  But, it gives me very small solace in understanding my issues.  Loss is extremely and especially hard for me.  Change is even harder.  I am well-acquainted with “new normals” and “survival” and “perspective.”  I get it, but it doesn’t guarantee relief in every situation.

This time of year, I typically reflect on the summer and all the memories it generously offers.  I prepare as best I can for the new school year.  Then, another wave of friends sends their precious not-so-little children to college and a tsunami of guilt and sorrow floods my heart.

I should have done more with them.  The science experiment.  The makeover.  The board games, I lament.  This is the only summer my kids will ever be this age.

The balance of my heart and head swings like a sail blown wildly in the wind.  I tell myself to give me break.  To be thankful for what we did do together.  To know that one person cannot be everything to everyone.

Then more photos and stories roll in via FB, text or conversation.

I, praise God, have a few more years before it’s our turn to post stories and photos, and on one hand it helps me prepare to hear others as they work through their grief.  On the other hand, however, knowing this is such a tender subject for me, I lose myself in unnecessary grief at the moment.  It’s not my turn, and this premature grief is stealing the joy from the moments I have with my children now.  My babies are still home.

Everyone has scars.  Everyone has a story.  The epicenter of my story is loss, and what is so frustrating is that it is something that I cannot get away from.

Loss will continue whether I want it to or not.  Change brings change.  I can only continue to try to adapt.  My kids tell me that I am one of the most optimistic people they know.  I reply, “My mom always said, ‘If you have a choice to laugh or cry…laugh.'”

I’m enjoying every laugh now, and pray it will give me strength when the inevitable tears come.

At the end of the day, I remind myself that this earth is not my home.  God is preparing a place for me, and in that place there is no sorrow, tears or guilt or goodbyes.  There is freedom and joy and peace.  That promise is what rocks me to sleep.

Hugging my kids a little tighter tonight.

Don’t Forget to Breathe!

This morning, I followed my little ritual as I added chlorine to our pool –  bring bucket of chlorine to the skimmer.  Take off the lid to the skimmer of the pool, and set it aside.  Lean over and slightly unlatch the childproof locks on the canister.  Stop.  Close my eyes.  Take in one, deep breath very slowly.  Release.  Take a second breath in deeply, slowly.  Trying not to get dizzy, I take a third, very deep breath and hold it.  Frantically, all in one movement, I open my eyes, throw off the cover to the canister, scramble for the scoop, measure the scoops of chlorine into the skimmer, throw the skimmer lid back on, snap the canister lid back on, and take off running as fast as I can across the yard away from the whole thing.  When the air finally settled, I returned for the canister and carried it back to its place, walking calmly as if nothing ever happened.

Yes, I am sure I look ridiculous.  But, 100% chlorine is miserable to breathe in as its fumes sting my eyes, nose and throat.   I got a big dose once that taught me never to do it slowly again.  So, that’s my theatrical performance in the backyard when the pool needs chlorine.

However, I feel that is also my reaction to life when it spins faster than a toy top.  Ramping up for a new school year, with many changes happening for our family, I find myself neglecting to breathe.  Literally.  It seems when I get stressed, I shallow-breathe.  I went to the doctor once about tingling hands and feet.  She said it was caused from hyperventilating.

But, I’m not heaving deep breaths, nor am I all upset and worked up like some I’ve seen hyperventilate! I replied.

She explained that not breathing deep enough can cause the same malfunctioning circulation.  I had no idea.

Ever since she taught me this, I am intentional about breathing when currents pick up and waves rise.  Like adding chlorine to the pool, I try to remember to stop.  Close my eyes.  Breathe deeply.

Sometimes I forget.  That’s been the case the past couple of weeks.  It’s very easy to slowly let life control the ship, and the next thing I know my world is being rocked like a toy boat spinning in a bathtub drain.

God is the one who needs to remain in control of life.  He is, after all, the one with all the answers, the patience, the knowledge and time at His disposal; crafted by His hand for our good.  Even when life seems like it doesn’t make sense, He is good and sovereign.  When bad things happen in this fallen world, I have faith He is the God of redemption and NOTHING is beyond His reach of grace and glory.

But, some days I still forget to breathe.  I let the endless list of things to do, people to please, and pressuring priorities determine my day.  That’s so backwards.  Being intentional about breathing means:

1. Give the day to God first and let Him be captain and I be the skipper – not the other way around.

2. Pace myself and not get in a flurry and do too many things at once.  I’m going to buffer time into the day for the unexpected things – of which I’ve already encountered three times this morning!

3. Realize the day’s expectations are more than I can meet.  Some things must simply wait until tomorrow.

4. Move my body.  Too often, my brain muscle gets all the exercise while my body lies dormant. Balance is a good thing.

5. Understand I am NOT responsible for other people’s happiness.  They are.

6. Appreciate the small treasures buried along the journey’s path.  Stolen moments with my kids.  The smell of gardenias in the backyard.  Pondering the blessings God has given me by way of family, friends, a new day to discover, and a healing back. 🙂

7. Work hard.  There is no guilt when I fully know I’ve done the best job I can do.

8. Put my feet up – if only for a little while.  Physically, it’s good for the heart.  Mentally, it’s a priceless break from everything.

9. Use the Holy Spirit as my filter for my attitude and my answers.  When seeking God’s perspective on things, His response is usually different than my own.

10. Breathe.  Literally and metaphorically.  Whatever helps decompress.  I do intentionally take deep breaths throughout the day (my kids think it’s a sign of exasperation, but it’s not – it’s preservation!).  I also breathe in ways that give me the same rejuvenating benefit like writing this blog 🙂 playing with my dog, a conversation with my husband or friend, doing something for someone else and doing something for myself – be it work or play (because sometimes tackling a long-dreaded project feels as good as taking a walk or watching a favorite show on tv).

Fall hasn’t begun yet, so I refuse to let its pressures and strain begin now.  There are precious days of summer left, and perhaps by keeping these days in check it will help me do the same when new routines begin.  It’s all good stuff, and it should be acknowledged as such.  If I don’t want to hear my kids complain, then I shouldn’t either.  This was a nice, deep breathe.  I’m ready to tackle embrace the day.  Are you?

May today be a great day…and don’t forget to breathe!

Happy New Year of Life

All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. ~ Psalm 139:16

Last week, I began the week in so much pain from a recent back injury that I didn’t even realize my birthday was approaching.  After 4 doctors, 5 doctor appointments, a heating pad, a cold pack, pain medications and very little sleep sitting straight up in a chair for over a week, I wandered around in a dazed fog – unable to keep up with the days of the week – much less the date.  This is why I’ve been off the grid from posting.  I was just trying to get up and down out of chair. :O

However, I have an amazing family and awesome friends who would not let my birthday go unnoticed nor let the excruciating back pain spoil the fun.  I have a great, big God who went out of His way to show me He didn’t forget the day He began our love story decades ago.

My last post, Today, was the worst day of the pain.  Back pain so bad that my skin has broken out in hives all week where the injury occurred.  Doctors said it was my back’s way of relieving the stress from the pain.  I didn’t even know that was possible.  I jokingly said that I must be allergic to pain.  Not!  Three childbirths, 5 surgeries and 2 severe car accidents have proven otherwise.

Anyway, today I simply want to post a huge, sincere THANK YOU to everyone who made this year one of the most loving, special, memorable birthdays I have ever had in my life.

To my husband and children, thank you for making me smile and laugh (the back pain from laughing was totally worth it!) and taking the time to treat me like a queen.  Bruce, you work so hard for our family.  I know you wanted to be home with me, but what you do makes our family life possible.  Your card, flowers, balloons, gifts and mostly your calls and texts made me feel like you were right by my side all day.  I love you!

Kids – you guys rock.  You got up on your summer morning at 6:30am, voluntarily, to make me breakfast!  That was the best egg white omlette I’ve ever had; the little dude made out of toast and jam – complete with wings and feet – was delicious; the fruit salad – with its professional presentation – was perfect; and homemade chocolate milk, something I afford myself only on my birthday and Mother’s Day meant so much that you remembered.  What can I say about the hand-dipped chocolate covered strawberries?  For breakfast!  I am utterly spoiled, and they were scrumptious.  It was enough for all 5 of us!

On my way to the 5th doctor’s appointment, I received a text from one of my best friends telling me to go check my front door.  I did, and below is what I found!!!  What an incredibly nice surprise!!!!!!!!  Seeing as our country is in a helium shortage (weird, huh?), I can’t believe you guys found some.  Frances and Ann, your two families are family to us always and forever.  You know me well, and filled this basket with my favorite things – most touching was the cards signed be each and everyone of you.  Thank you guys so much!  Ya’ll are kind, generous and loving – and I want the world to know. 🙂

After the appointment, I was treated to lunch by not one, but two friends at a favorite Italian restaurant.  Their hugs, smiles and fun conversation was priceless time with women I think the world of.  Your gifts, cards and fellowship is more than I could ask for.  Pam and Renee, you are beautiful blessings to me.  Thank you for lunch and the tiaramisu.  It was delicious, but even better sharing it with you.

Renee, you surprised me with dinner the night before my birthday just to help out with my back, and completely surprised me with birthday cupcakes!  BUT, not just any cupcakes, made-from-scratch chocolate sunflower cupcakes!!! They were adorable!  Too cute to eat, but we managed. 😉  We enjoyed every last crumb.  You took so much time out of your day to do this special gift for me, and I am so thankful.  God had such a big surprise in store for me when He brought us together, and it feels like I’ve known you a lifetime.  Thank you, Friend.

Going out with my family last night  was such fun!  Bruce wanted to pull out all of the stops.  When we got home, we played family games and, one of the cutest surprises, was the musical arrangement the kids put on.  My daughter pulled popular songs from each decade of my life and we all danced (well, I swayed) to the music.  That was so creative!!

My Facebook, voicemail and email were absolutely flooded with birthday wishes from so many wonderful people from Kenya to Ukraine to the United States.  Oh my!  I never ever expected that.  I thought my heart would burst from feeling so loved and remembered.  I read and re-read each and every one.  I LOVE the way my sweet Ukrainian friend worded her message to me, Happy new year of your life.  Indeed, God makes all things new. 🙂  I just love that!  To me, a birthday message is priceless.  Someone I care about took the time to stop their day and think of me.  Wow.  Being remembered is a beautiful thing.

All day long, I loved hanging out with my kids, enjoying long face-to-face as well as phone conversations with friends, and anticipating celebrating with my man.  I’m not so much about gifts, though who doesn’t’ like to receive a present? 🙂 I deeply treasure time and things from the heart the most.  My cup was overflowing with both…and very thoughtful presents I might add!

All 3 children gave me precious cards – each special in their own way.  This is the card my sixteen year-old son made for me…

This is part of my youngest’s card.  It’s the signature picture he draws of us every year.  I love it!!!!

God knows us better than we know ourselves.  He meets us right where we are and in ways only He knows is in our best interest.  He is so good.  I have a story about one of the gifts God gave me for my birthday and would love to share it.

On Tuesday, as I mentioned above my worst pain day, a house guest came over.  I was hiding out in my pajamas upstairs.  Clear instructions were given by those downstairs not to touch my camera.  My nice, expensive one I use for ministry.  (I’m oblivious to all of this happening downstairs.)  I guess the temptation was too much and hands picked it up…and dropped it.  Dropped it so hard the filter cracked in half and lens busted.

When I found out the news hours later, I was deflated more than anything.  Just 3 months ago, different hands accidentally knocked my old camera off of a table onto concrete and killed it.  Now this one, my new replacement.  Are you kidding me?  I cannot be without my camera, and when traveling there isn’t always a place to pick up another lens if this broken lens doesn’t get fixed and stay fixed.

Warily, Wednesday afternoon I hobbled into a big box electronic store where I bought it and dreaded the whole waranttee process.  I know it well and it is long and laborious.

I explained the whole thing to the gentleman, shifting my weight to find a comfortable standing position, and he was unmoved to say the least.  Another employee stood silently on the sidelines.  He called up a third employee, and I explained the saga to her.  I had told my daughter when I parked the car I would need God’s self control to get through this because of the back pain and the fact that this was camera #2 that I was left to deal with.  An expensive problem.

Another employee, fixing someone’s hard drive nearby, chimed in and borderline lectured me on the warantee process and how I am not special and do not have a choice to repair or replace.  Yeah yeah yeah.  I got it.

I was now going to be without a camera for an indefinite amount of time for an upcoming trip and milestones like visiting family, the first day of school, etc.  The whole thing gave me a headache.

Suddenly, the woman who came over from a different department placed a box on the counter.  She opened it (while the other guy was lecturing me unsolicited)  and with four simple words then entire issue ended…Here’s your new camera.

What? I responded, completley baffled.

This is your new camera, enjoy it! 🙂

Seriously? I questioned.

Yes, she said as she packed up the box.

Just like that? I asked.

Just like that, she replied.

Really? I asked again.  I know the waranttee process and this isn’t typical by a long shot.

Yes, she simply replied.

I’m not one to cry in front of others, but it was hard to choke back the lump in my throat.

This is the nicest thing anyone has done for me in a long time.  You have no idea what a blessing this is, I said while the other employees stood by speechless.

This wasn’t your fault, and you shouldn’t have to bear the stress of it.  Photography is what you do, and you should be able to do it, she said.

I’ll be honest.  This is the first time using a large company to buy my camera, and I was wary about the follow-up customer service.

Maybe this will help, she smiled.

Yes, indeed it does! Do I need to do anything?  Sign anything? 

Nope.  Just enjoy it.

Just like that, I had a brand new camera, new lens and a new battery.  Life simply doesn’t resolve itself like that usually.  I was so discouraged one moment, and in an instant the problem vanished.  Done.

Tears streamed underneath my sunglasses as my daughter and I left the store.  I was mostly relieved to have a working camera in my hands so I can do what God calls me to do with it.  No wondering if the repaired lens will flake out on me overseas, or if the body was affected in a way that won’t show up for some time.  It was new.  A brand new camera.

As we walked to the car, God spoke to me and said, You see your life broken in many ways, much like your camera.  But, like this camera, I can fix anything.  I can fix you.  Your life.  I can.

I have to say, He unearthed doubt that had built up in my heart over some things.  I felt physically broken with my back, and emotionally, mentally and spiritually broken over some heart issues.

Driving home, I wondered why this whole thing happened with my camera.  It was so random and bizarre!  But, God showed me that He allowed this to happen to prove a point with me.  That nothing is irreparable with God.  All things are possible.  He can make a way where there is no way.  And sometimes, the process doesn’t have to be long and laborious.

He gave me hope.  Hope for my back and my heart.  He wrapped it in a camera and every time I pick this new one up, I see Him saying, I love you.  I see.  I know.  I hear.  I am at work for your best interest.  What a beautiful, generous birthday present.

I will never forget this birthday.  And, it’s not over yet.  I look forward to going out with one of my favorite friends, Lisa, soon.  And, we are partying on with more family very soon.  Everything we celebrate is only what God has done in my life – a sinner saved by grace.  His faithfulness, mercy, grace and love.  He is eternally good.  All years combined, the good, the bad and the ugly, I write today that God is sovereign.  He is beautiful.  He is worthy.  Here’s to as many more days on this earth that He allows – for His glory.

My heart is full.

Today

There are days when everything goes great.  Green lights, ear-to-ear smiles, and magical moments made to last a lifetime.  There are days that are not-so-great, but not the end of the world either.  Things go okay, just not scrapbook-worthy.  Then there are days when taking the next breath is hard.  When, no matter how much optimism I greet the day with; regardless of the effort I put into it; or how much I want to believe my own smile, life won’t play.

Today is that day.  Hard.  Lonely.  Hurting.  Exhausting.  Unsuccessful.  Stubborn.  Unforgiving.  Today can be mean.  Cruel.  It laughs at weakness and does not sympathize with what it has dropped in my lap.  I want today to leave and tomorrow to come, but time won’t play. It will sit there, arms folded, feet firmly planted, smirking, and count down each and every second until it allows tomorrow to enter and excuses today away.

In the midst of it all, I fall into the arms of my Savior, my God.  He is the only true respite.  He is kind.  Life is not.  He is good.  He is trustworthy.  He waits with me while we listen to the clock tick tock.  He even has a few pleasant surprises along this day’s journey to make it more bearable.

I won’t feel sorry for myself, but I will admit not every day is a party.  To act otherwise is shallow, and no one believes my smile either.

Some days we climb.  Some days we rest.  Some days we just hang on.  Hanging on…

Summer with teens and a tween

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Cool update!  A devotion of mine was posted today on the devotion website I write for.  Hope you can stop by and check it out! ~Kristi

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When my kids were younger, a good summer day involved any of the following:  digging up worms in the backyard, a dollar matinee, blowing bubbles, swimming in a small plastic pool with a layer of grass floating on the water’s surface, nap time, teddy bear picnics, playgroups, board games for hot days, pillow forts on rainy days, snuggling in bed with my little ones and watching Blues Clues or Dora; and mother’s morning out for me to run my errands and go to my appointments.  This sounds picturesque, and I am blessed to say it often was, but our younger years weren’t without the occasional tantrums over refusing a nap; the ever-stressful event of one of us needing to go to the bathroom while in Target with a cart full of sundries and three little ones in tow; continuous mopping of the kitchen floor over a new baby food rejected by said baby or a youngster convinced they can pour their own cup of milk; and the endless hours before my husband came home from work and the loneliness that accompanied those hours.  It was an era of teaching them to say please and thank you and the instruction to share.  I juggled being a wife and a stay-at-home mom while holding down a freelance job – all of which are a blessing.

When they got a little older, summer meant play dates with friends, bowling with gutter guards, teaching them how to mow the lawn, television limits, more board games, lemonade stands, and the ice cream truck.  They were a little more independent and toys like LEGOS and Barbies entered the scene.  Dress-up time was regular and my daughter wanted me to paint her nails in bright, glittery colors.  My boys wanted more road pieces for their Matchbox cars.  The basketball hoop got a little higher, and although they had outgrown naps, the also outgrew the fits that required them.  They learned how set a proper table, to hold the door for Mommy and others who needed help, and that sharing was a good idea after all as they learned the justice and injustices of right and wrong.  Life got a little busier, and I often fell into the trap of trying to provide too much fun for my kids.  I am certain it was some psychological righting of wrongs from my own dysfunctional childhood, and I became exhausted from trying to please everyone all the time.  But, I loved organizing birthday parties, baking cakes, and got used to our house guests growing in number as sleepovers became a normal thing – as did pancakes that accompanied them the next morning.

My kids are two teens and a tween now.  I am the one stealing an occasional afternoon nap.  My daughter has discovered stick-on fake nails (though she still likes me to paint hers) and her dress-up time has shifted to wanting to don stylish clothes and highlights in her hair.  My boys have all but forsaken tv and video games for Minecraft – though LEGOS are permanent family members.  All of them mow the grass in clean, straight lines; they sleep in a little later; they handle the laundry and dishes and other household work quite well; and reasonable bedtimes are antiquated as we stay up late – all 5 of us – watching movies as a family.  Social calendars are much busier, and for the first year my eldest went on his first job hunt and now drives me around town.  They water ski and whitewater raft and travel internationally on missions trips.  They get grounded until bedrooms are clean and have succumbed to their regular housework – though they’ve tried to pay each other to do their work (but they don’t have any money,  so that didn’t really work out!)

They have their own opinions about life and love the Lord and have their own faith.  Sharing one bathroom is a daily challenge for my kiddos, but they laugh together and love each other, so we try not to sweat the small stuff.  When sibling issues arise, I remind them one purpose of families are to prepare them for the real world of studying for hard college classes, enduring a boss they may not like, and how to manage their time and money and get along with their future spouses.  They are all great cooks, which will be a bonus when it’s time for marriage.  All of the years of cleaning up splatters from mixers gone crazy or measuring cups falling off the counters or bags of flour spilling onto the floor, practicing separating egg yolks from the whites and how to properly handle raw meat – were completely worth it as they maneuver their way well through the kitchen these days.

I want to miss the “old days” when they were little.  Everyone tells me I should.  They tell me that at this point in life I should be looking back on the days when the worst thing that happened all day to them was a skinned knee from a bike fall.  They tell me I should be lamenting about childhood naivety, simple schedules and unconditional, endless hugs.

Well, I do have those moments of mamma sadness when I see how much they have grown, but the excitement of watching them grow is awesome!  Just yesterday, I had one of the best hours with my oldest all summer.  He and I were alone for about an hour.  As he washed the dishes and I folded clothes, we talked about tough stuff.  He asked deeply spiritual questions and I silently prayed to the Lord for the right answers.  He and I talked about the world – what’s right and what’s wrong with it and how he feels about all of it.  It was priceless time with him.  He talked.  I talked.  We both listened as we did the housework.

This era of our lives is way too important to miss physically, mentally or emotionally…and most importantly, spiritually.  We stay busy, but I don’t want to be so busy that those special conversations never have an opportunity to blossom because we’re never in the same room at the same time.  I don’t want to be so wigged out about college financial aid or the car we need to buy as ours is quickly dying, daily woes, or anything else that I don’t hear the prompting from my kids when they want to talk to me – uninterrupted, about the tough stuff of life.  They are so much more independent now, I don’t want to take advantage of that and begin my “next chapter” too soon.  If I jump the gun of life with grown kids, I will miss being a part of them finishing growing up.

Parenting this age is exhausting and exhilarating.  Terrifying, trying  and terrific.  Sometimes all at once!

When I hear my youngest talk about what he wants to build as the cure for cancer, or my oldest discuss genetics, or my middle girl be loved on by so many small children who she sits for and volunteers with who adore her – my heart swells with gratitude.  It’s these summer days that I want to remember as much as the early ones.  Days when we take a long bike ride or indulge in our favorite frozen yogurt joint and the world’s problems take a backseat – if only for an hour, but preferably an afternoon.

Do politics and problems and worries roll around in the back of my mind?  Sure.  But, while my kids are still in my nest, I will tend it as best I can.  I love the fact that my daughter chooses me to go back-to-school shopping with.  I will absolutely go, and go with great joy, as I help her navigate her through the aisles and aisles of inappropriate clothes and find the hidden jewels – clothes that don’t compromise modesty for style – as I help her understand how far up the leg rips in the jeans should go, how low a neckline should be and why exposing bra straps is never an option.  We talk about how modesty is the most beautiful form of fashion, and it can be found in her favorite stores!

I like when my boys talk at length to me about a computer game or movie and I have the precious opportunity to talk about our family’s values and where God fits into video games and television and books.  No topic is taboo in our house, and my husband and I have found that oftentimes they want to talk when we are tired or distracted.  When I am tempted to sluff off an open door in the name of more sleep or a little mindless time on Facebook, the Holy Spirit prompts me that I should embrace those moments, moments that won’t always be here.  Like puppet shows behind the couch and wearing Halloween costumes to the grocery store just for fun, these are historical days that one day will be relieved only in our hearts and photographs.

Thankfully, some things never change.  We still flag down the ice cream truck, still like lazy Saturday mornings flipping pancakes, and I relish receiving endless hugs. The teen and tween years can be challenging as we all continue to grow individually and as a family, but they are priceless in their own right.

We will milk this summer for all its worth, and when the new school year begins, I will embrace that season with arms full of special memories, tender moments and kids that still want my hugs.

Repost: Is it okay to be angry with God?

In light of the tragedy in CO last night, I am reblogging this post. There was a different post planned, but when things happen that we can’t wrap our heads around, it can also shake our faith. I hope this post brings some level of comfort. We are praying for the family and friends who lost their loved ones. Psalm 34:18, “The LORD is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those crushed in spirit.” With my deepest sympathy, Kristi

Kristi's avatarReal. Deep. Stuff.

Recently, we stood helplessly by as we watched a dear family tragically lose their husband/father.  He had so many years left, but an accident took this hero’s life.  I’ve hugged his wife and children, and looked deeply into the eyes of his father – an older gentleman who said to me, He survived Afghanistan, but gets killed at home.  He died in action, serving his country, but where does that leave his family?  I held his father’s hand in both of mine and told him how sorry I was.  I assured him we were praying for strength and peace during this difficult time.  He looked into my eyes and said,  I’m trying to be as strong as I can.

There are so many circumstances in this world that bring us pain, sorrow and hurt.  Sometimes, the outcome is evident through long-suffering.  Sometimes, it comes in one phone call.  Whether it is…

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Is it okay to be angry with God?

Recently, we stood helplessly by as we watched a dear family tragically lose their husband/father.  He had so many years left, but an accident took this hero’s life.  I’ve hugged his wife and children, and looked deeply into the eyes of his father – an older gentleman who said to me, He survived Afghanistan, but gets killed at home.  He died in action, serving his country, but where does that leave his family?  I held his father’s hand in both of mine and told him how sorry I was.  I assured him we were praying for strength and peace during this difficult time.  He looked into my eyes and said,  I’m trying to be as strong as I can.

There are so many circumstances in this world that bring us pain, sorrow and hurt.  Sometimes, the outcome is evident through long-suffering.  Sometimes, it comes in one phone call.  Whether it is divorce, unemployment, rejection of endless degrees, a wayward child, victimization, losing a house, suffering from an illness or watching someone we love suffer, there are scores of reasons why this world is unfair.

When unfair comes knocking on our door, where can we hide?  Nowhere.  It finds us – try as we may to run.

God designed our bodies, minds, hearts and spirits with buffers.  In most times, if the enormity of a situation came at us 100% full-on, we probably couldn’t survive it.  As I spoke to my teen friend whose father died, I thought to myself (having suffered parent loss as a teen myself) You have no idea how this will affect your life – for the rest of your life.

To absorb the implications of what has happened all at once would overtake us, and we would wash away like a footprint in the sand.  Although God designed a perfect world, in His omnipotent knowledge He knew Adam and Eve would sin.  He knew before He created time that this world would need a Savior, and He knew that Savior would be His only Son.

Our spirits have eternal life through Christ when we accept Him as our Lord and receive forgiveness for our sins.  But, many of us still have lives to lead, unlike the thief on the cross who asked Jesus to remember him, and Jesus reassured the man he would be with Him in Paradise.  We, for better or worse, must still wrestle the 24/7 bestowed upon us.  It is at this point that brought me to write this post…the wrestling.

My family has prayed for our friends every day since their husband/father died.  However, one prayer caught my full attention.  One of my children prayed, Lord, please help them not to be angry. Being angry at You is wrong.  Please help them not sin by being angry.

Hmm. I wonder what train of thought brought this up?   God gave us a gift by allowing us to feel anger.

Anger is an emotion.  A feeling.  It is a release valve to the pressure, tension, and even confusion, we may feel during emotional or intense situations.  Anger is as normal as feeling happy or sad.  Our bodies physically feel the effects of circumstances, and like lightening, our anger is a channel in which to release adrenaline and chemicals in the brain so we don’t explode (well, not literally, but we may feel like we can sometimes!).

Emotionally, anger helps keeps feelings flowing.  It’s like a lubricant to gears.  When we stuff our natural emotion of anger down inside us, it rots.  When it rots, it becomes bitter and hardens our hearts.  Anger gives us the emotional courage to confront the situation, say what needs to be said, or do what needs to be done, in order to maintain a healthy relationship with the world and with ourselves.

I think what my child was getting at is something, I believe, is often misunderstood about the Bible.  Ephesians 4:26-27 says, “In your anger do not sin: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold.”

The first part of this passage, “In your anger do not sin” comes from Psalm 4:4, “In your anger do not sin; when you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent.  Selah”

David may simply be saying here, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.  After all, it’s better to be silent than say something we will regret.  And that is Paul’s point in Ephesians.  Anger is not the sin.  It’s what we do with it that gets us into trouble.  In action, word or thought, we have the choice to allow ourselves to be angry for a time, letting our physical bodies release, our minds decompress, and our emotions ride the waves – or act upon it in a sinful way albeit passively or aggressively.  Passively – by way of withholding communication (the silent treatment), withholding forgiveness when someone asks us for it of themselves, or any refusal on our part that denies progress in the situation because of bitterness, unforgiveness, hate, etc.  This doesn’t apply when people simply need time.  Of course, we are not vending machines that can produce upon demand.  We need time to heal.  It is when sin stands in the way of our progress that needs to be held accountable.

Take James 1:19-20.  It admonishes us, “My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.”

Before we cry foul, let’s look at what the anger means in this particular passage.  In Strong’s Greek Hebrew Dictionary (via www.mystudybible.com), the word anger comes from the Hebrew word orge and means “violent passion (ire, or [justifiable] abhorrence); by implication punishment :- anger, indignation, vengeance, wrath.”

But, the word anger in Psalm 4:4 is different. The Hebrew word orgizo comes from the word orge and means “to provoke or enrage; become exasperated.”

Holman New Testament Commentary Vol. 8 explains, “Sometimes a Christian may legitimately become angry.  Jesus became angry at times. In those times we must be extra careful how we act, for anger gives no excuse to sin.”

The Matthew Henry Concise Bible Commentary phrases Ephesians 4:26-27 this way, “Take heed of anger and ungoverned passions. If there is just occasion to express displeasure at what is wrong, and to reprove, see that it be without sin. We give place to the devil, when the first motions of sin are not grievous to our souls; when we consent to them; and when we repeat an evil deed. This teaches that as sin, if yielded unto, lets in the devil upon us, we are to resist it, keeping from all appearance of evil.”

Let’s compare two situations – Jonah and Lazarus.  Jonah was called by God to do something he didn’t want to do, with people he didn’t want to be anywhere near. He was stoking mad that God had compassion on this brood of ignorant souls.  Jonah was judgmental and hard-hearted and thought he knew better than God.  I’ll skip the story in its entirety for the sake of time, but it is fascinating.  This is the so-called dramatic ending of the four short chapters that make up the entire book…

Jonah chapter 4, “But Jonah was greatly displeased and became angry. 2 He prayed to the Lord, “O Lord, is this not what I said when I was still at home? That is why I was so quick to flee to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity. 3 Now, O Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live.”

4 But the Lord replied, “Have you any right to be angry?”

5 Jonah went out and sat down at a place east of the city. There he made himself a shelter, sat in its shade and waited to see what would happen to the city. 6 Then the Lord God provided a vine and made it grow up over Jonah to give shade for his head to ease his discomfort, and Jonah was very happy about the vine. 7 But at dawn the next day God provided a worm, which chewed the vine so that it withered. 8 When the sun rose, God provided a scorching east wind, and the sun blazed on Jonah’s head so that he grew faint. He wanted to die, and said, “It would be better for me to die than to live.”

9 But God said to Jonah, “Do you have a right to be angry about the vine?”

“I do,” he said. “I am angry enough to die.”

10 But the Lord said, “You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight. 11 But Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?”

The word anger used in this passage is from the Greek word hara.  Strong’s defines it as to glow or grow warm; figurative (usually) to blaze up, of anger, zeal, jealousy :- be angry, burn, be displeased, earnestly, fret self, grieve, be (wax) hot, be incensed, kindle, very, be wroth.”

I have always wondered what happened to Jonah.  We, by default, want a happy ending.  We look for it in movies, plays, books, and in our own lives.  We need closure and peace, and our moral bookends of the good guy wins and the bad guy gets what’s coming to him are what makes the story in between tolerable.  Here, Jonah’s account just fades off.  His last words recorded in the most complete account of history ever written were, “I am angry enough to die.” (verse 9)

That does not sound at all like Psalm 4:4 or Ephesians 4:26-27.  In fact, it sounds more like the Israelites in Hosea 7:6, “Their hearts are like an oven; they approach him with intrigue. Their passion smolders all night; in the morning it blazes like a flaming fire.”

Then there is Lazarus.  Brother of the well-known sisters, Mary and Martha.  In John 11, Lazarus died.  Jesus knows exactly what has happened and what will happen, but the details of this account twinge my heart because most, if not all of us, have either been Mary or Martha or both at some point in our lives when pain overcame us.

John 11 tells us that basically Jesus had more than enough time to get to Lazarus before Lazarus finally died.  Verses 18-19 even tell us this, “Bethany was less than two miles from Jerusalem, and many Jews had come to Martha and Mary to comfort them in the loss of their brother.”

What would be Jesus’ reason for His delay?  Verse 4 answers, “When he heard this, Jesus said, ‘This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God’s glory so that God’s Son may be glorified through it.’” And in verses 14-15, “So then he told them plainly, “Lazarus is dead, 15 and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him.’”

Okay…are you hanging with me?  We are at the heart of the point of this post. Read verses 20-21 slowly, “When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went out to meet him, but Mary stayed at home.  “Lord,” Martha said to Jesus, “if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

These two women are famous for their account of Martha being too busy to listen to Jesus, while Mary sat at His feet. Many of us can relate.  But, we can also relate to them now.

Mary, knowing full-well Jesus has arrived, doesn’t go out to meet Him.  The same woman who poured expensive perfume on Jesus’ feet and wiped them with her hair.  Did she love Jesus?  Yes.  So, why the silence now?

Martha, more spirited than her sister, met Jesus and confronted Him, if I may.

We’re going deeper now.  Jesus called for Mary personally.  Martha went to Mary and told her Jesus was asking for her.

Verses 29-32, “When Mary heard this, she got up quickly and went to him. 30 Now Jesus had not yet entered the village, but was still at the place where Martha had met him. 31 When the Jews who had been with Mary in the house, comforting her, noticed how quickly she got up and went out, they followed her, supposing she was going to the tomb to mourn there. 32 When Mary reached the place where Jesus was and saw him, she fell at his feet and said, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

Once she knew Jesus was asking for her, she ran to Him and was able to speak from her heart.

So how does this account relate to Jonah’s because nowhere does it say the words anger or angry.  Or does it?

How would you feel if Jesus were walking this earth today and your loved one needed life-or-death healing, and you texted, emailed and left a voicemail on Jesus’ iPhone asking Him to immediately come only a short distance – and He is a no-show.  Not only that, He doesn’t return your text, email or voicemail, and stays 2 more days where He is – just a short distance away. Then, your loved one dies.  He or she actually dies.  There is, at this point, no happy ending, the good guy (your loved one a.k.a. Lazarus) didn’t win and the bad guy (death) got his way.

How would we feel?

If we are gut-wrenchingly honest, we’d be angry at Jesus.  Right?  He knows us.  He knows the need.  He knows He can help.  But, He didn’t show up.  He didn’t heal.  He didn’t even return our phone call.

Mary sinks into herself and stays inside.  She can’t find it in herself to go meet Jesus.  We can probably fill in the adjectives she is feeling as we relate.

Martha makes no bones about it.  She didn’t even let Jesus get into the village.  On the contrary, she met Him outside the village and told Him outright how she felt.  However, she did with respect and reverence.  She never forgot who He is – Lord.  She followed up her emotional outburst with, “But I know that even now God will give you whatever you ask.” (Verse 22)

Mary, once told Jesus wanted to see her, ran to Him and told Him the same exact emotional eruption except she did it on her knees. Both women were thinking the same thing, but they went about it in different ways depending on their personalities.

How did Jesus react?  Did He shun them?  Did He smite them and banish them from heaven?  Did He lecture them on how to behave in their time of deepest grief?  Did He reject them and walk away?  Did He ignore them? Did He grow furious at them, point His finger at them, and call on God’s angels to punish them? Did He stop loving them?

How did Jesus feel over their words?  “When Jesus saw (Mary) weeping, and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping, he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.” (Verse 33)

How did Jesus react?  What did He do? “Jesus wept.” (Verse 35)

He wept.  He felt their pain.  Jesus was 100% man and 100% God.  He knew how the story would end, but in that moment, He willingly climbed down into their emotional pit and felt their pain with them.

Indeed, Jesus climbs down into our emotional pits so He can bring us out of them.

God is a gracious, loving God.  Jesus knows our sorrows – He’s been there.  He lived on this earth and felt natural emotions including happiness, sadness and yes, anger.

Hebrews 4:14-16 is one of the most comforting Scriptures in the Bible. “Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has gone through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. 15 For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are —yet was without sin. 16 Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

Anger.  It is one of the 5 responses in crisis and grief.  It is a God-given gift to be angry so we can channel the physical strain (headaches, digestive issues, heart issues, teeth clinching, nail biting, eyelash plucking, comfort eating, deliberate starving) pressure that happens when life deals us pain and suffering. Anger channels our adrenaline so we can sleep at night, keep our heads from spinning off into orbit, and gives us courage for self-preservation in overwhelming times.  It keeps emotions flowing as we wrestle with shock & denial, bargaining, depression and acceptance of a situation beyond our control.

Why would God create the emotion of anger for our physical, emotional and mental selves, but forbid it for our sprits which are eternal?  I believe the answer is in Psalm 4:4 – in your anger do not sin.  It never said not to be angry. It doesn’t promise we won’t ever be angry.  It says WHEN we are angry do not sin.

So why don’t we bring our anger to God?  Wow, that’s a whole other post, but suffice it to say our upbringing, personalities, life experience, and how we view God all affects how we interact with Him.

For me, I grew up in a house with a step father who did not tolerate anything from me and dictated a very unhealthy fear of male authority.  Is it easy for me to come to God with my anger?  No way!  It has taken me years to get to a point of God convincing me (through reading the Bible, His faithfulness to me and the testimonies of others) that I come before the throne and pour all of me out to Him – the good, the bad and the ugly.  The confidence Hebrews 11 speaks of is a work in progress in me, but God is a patient God who loves us with an everlasting love.

Do we think He can’t handle our anger?  That He isn’t strong enough?  That He doesn’t understand or care about our pain?  That we will be punished for being honest with Him?

Quite the opposite, Jesus intercedes on our behalf.  He could have gone to Bethany and healed Lazarus and left.  But, not only did He listen to Martha, but he called for Mary.  They were important to Him.  How they were doing was important to Him.  So are you.

Once, I was so upset about something, all the way home, as I drove alone, I yelled and cried and yelled some more to God.  Not at, but to Him (there is a difference).  I told Him how I felt and the whole nine yards.  I was ready to implode.  It was only after that did He bring a peace that passes my understanding about the circumstance.  He knew I needed to flush, to vent, to purge – and He allowed me grace and room and privacy to do so.  I did not sin in my anger, but I fully released how I was feeling.  It was one of the most healing experiences I’ve ever felt and that peace remains with me today.

God knows what we need, and He gave us a tool belt full of emotional equipment to help us survive, and thrive, in this broken world.  Anger is a tool, and used properly, it can bring us to closer intimacy with God.  Anger, managed properly and without sinning, keeps communication open.  Whether we are Martha who has no problem stating the issue, or Mary, who needs reassurance it’s okay, Jesus wants a close relationship with us – and He knows by personal experience how hard life on earth can be.

It’s our choice to be hard-hearted and bitter like Jonah and the Israelites in Hosea 7:6, but sure enough, circumstances in life will continue to make us angry.  Perhaps like Moses when he was asked by God to lead the Israelites although he had a speech impediment and felt like he couldn’t do the job; like Naomi when her husband and sons died leaving her no plan for provision; like Samuel when Israel demanded a king from him; like Nehemiah when he gazed upon the broken walls of his home – Jerusalem; like Dinah’s brothers when she was raped by a foreigner; like Joseph when his marriage plans to Mary took a left turn; or like Elijah as he, literally, ran for his life from Jezebel.

God looks at our hearts, our whole person.  He knows if we are shaking an angry, sinful fist at Him or using the tool of appropriate anger to uncover our hurt and pain that we desperately need healed.  He is gracious, but He is holy.  He deserves our respect, holy fear and reverence.  He is…God.

He is also Abba Father – Daddy.  He knows when we just can’t take it anymore and need a safe place to vent, to purge, to release.  He is a good listener. The best. He catches our tears of frustration in His hands and doesn’t use them against us. He is mercy. He is peace. He is rest.

1 Samuel 16:7, “…The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

1 Chronicles 28:9, “…acknowledge the God of your father, and serve him with wholehearted devotion and with a willing mind, for the Lord searches every heart and understands every motive behind the thoughts. If you seek him, he will be found by you…”

Anger.  It’s a tricky thing.  It can be helpful or hurtful.  Hindering or healing.  Understanding why we feel we can or cannot bring God our anger is a step closer to Him in itself.  Just keep walking.  Seek Him, and He will show you the way.

Rest for the Divided Heart

The calla lily in our backyard resembles a heart – very appropriate for today. 

Today, I am mixed with emotions.  It is the Sabbath.  God’s blessed day of rest.  However, my heart feels more restless than restful.  Our family begins the day with worship.  That’s typical for our Sundays.

However, the afternoon straddles an array of emotions as we attend the memorial service for a dear, young friend who suffered a tragic loss of his father and celebrate our oldest’s milestone birthday.

A birthday and a memorial service.  The recognition and honor of both life and death.  My heart is pulled in opposite directions.

In the midst of the vast spectrum of life, I am reminded of Ecclesiastes 3:1-8…

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.

Through laughter and tears, memories will be shared at both, and in every moment I seek God’s peace.  His selah.  His pause.  He is my tether. My anchor. The only One who can make sense of it all.

Thankful for selah,

Kristi

I Have to Tell You What Happened!

Okay, remember my post Really? written before taking our mission trip to Ukraine?  I read back through it today, and feel compelled to tell you the sequel to the saga.  If you haven’t read that post, I encourage you to or today’s post may not make much sense.

It’s been a month, and here we are teetering on the cliffhanger…what happened when I spoke to the ladies?  This is absolutely not about me, rather it’s about what God did.  This was a ladies-only event, but He bucked the system and showed up!   I am so glad He did.

It was time to face my Goliath in the privacy of just God, me and the issue at hand only hours before the event.  In an arm-wrestling battle with this giant that I’ve never won against, this time God grabbed my hand and slammed that monster’s knuckles to the table.  I was the winner, hands-down (pardon the pun).

What was different about this time, versus the thousands of other times I walked away from the table in defeat?  It’s so simple it’s complicated.  It’s so complicated it’s simple.  Ready?  I listened.

That’s it!  That’s all I did.

Listened to who?  God.

Who was I listening to before?  The world, the enemy and myself.

We are creatures of habit.  Habits produce patterns.  Patterns affect our way of thinking.  The way we think affects our beliefs – positively or negatively.  For 25 years, everything about me was negative in this area.  Reading back over the post Really?, I see a person so sick and tired of being defeated in an area of her life, that she would rather admit final defeat and taboo it from her life than allow herself to be vulnerable to what God had to say about it.

I had beat myself up so badly with negative thoughts and behavior, and allowed the enemy to do the same, that I became hypersensitive to the touch of my heart and couldn’t even fathom letting the hand of God heal me.   Self-hate set in.  A longtime battle that left me utterly exhausted.  This is not the same as self pity.  With self-hate comes a level of despising that is hard to describe into words.  However, the enemy found lots of words to speak in my ear to keep the hate spinning like a top in my head.

Because of God’s perfect will and timing, He chose this year to be the final, epic battle over me.  Why?  I don’t know.

He knows us best and knew it was time. I have been so humiliated for so long about this pattern of self-hate in my life, that my own embarrassment was easy harassment for the enemy.

It’s as though God stepped down from heaven, met me right where I was – in a dorm room in Ukraine – alone with only my Bible, and said to me, Just give me a chance.  You’ve been dooped for so long by so many people, including yourself, you’ve forgotten who you really are; who I made you to be; and most importantly, you’ve forgotten how I see you.  You see yourself as hopeless. I see you as helpless.  You see yourself as defeated.  I see you as wounded.  You see yourself as beyond the point of help.  I see you on the brink of a new beginning.  One thing we can both agree on is that you cannot do this alone.  But, can you trust Me that we can do this together?

That was the moment.  If a soundtrack had been running in tandem to the movie of my life, a simple heartbeat on the drum would have pounded.  It was a physical moment of spiritual decision.  I sat on the edge of the bed next to my closed Bible, and felt God literally wait on me for a  response.

I looked around the quiet room, fidgeted with my hands and shuffled my feet.  On the outside I was silent.  On the inside, I watched a flashback of all my years from the time my issue began.  I heard all of the hurtful words people have said to me about this over the years.  I saw their faces and felt the sting of pain as if it were the first time all over again.  I heard everything the enemy every told me about myself and I felt myself beginning to fold.

My chest was heavy and it was heard to breathe.  Palms sweating, the back of my neck prickly, and my heart beating fast, I was in a war over who to side with.  This was God’s work, but He required one thing from me.  An answer.

How did I get to that answer?  The ONLY thing that persuaded me to side with Him that day was this question God prompted within my heart…Who has God been to you, Kristi?  Over all of these years, who has He proven Himself to be to you?

When I began to recall His sovereignty, His power, His grace, His mercy, His love, His faithfulness, His tenderness, His discipline, His consistency, and His miraculous presence in every moment of my life, the tall, thick walls around my heart (which stay heavily guarded by the way), began to fracture.  A 25-year old wound is very sensitive.  It’s never stopped bleeding the pain of my issue.  I had built such heavy defenses around it that I didn’t even realize I had shut God out until that day I told my friend I didn’t want His redemption in this area of my life.  My plan was just to privately, secretly nurse this wound until I died.

I sat on the edge of the bed in a quandary.  Do I trust God, who has been completely faithful and loving my entire life, even through the darkest of times, or do I continue in a self-destructive pattern that I know is harming me inside and out?

Could I take that first step and say to God, Alright.  You can have a go at my heart.  I trust You.  Or, do I tell my mission teammates I cannot speak to the ladies and retreat further into myself than I ever had before – this time with the strong possibility of never following my bread crumb trail back to the surface.

Sometimes, when we are at our weakest, our darkest, and in our deepest pain, all God is asking of us is to trust Him.  We get tangled up thinking we have to do something courageous or smart or skillful.  We live in a world that tells us we are only what we can produce.  Well, when we cannot produce anything beneficial, then who are we?  Nothing.  And I had felt like that for 25 years.

God knows this.  In Psalm 103:13-14, David understood.  He said, As a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him; for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.

Even if our pit is one we dug ourselves, God will still search for us and reach down His hand to pull us out.  Will we take it?

Part of the difficulty I faced in that moment was realizing that a new pattern would be established.  Great, but I didn’t know how to do that.  I didn’t have the strength to push back this giant.  Again, trust.  Perhaps God will help me? I thought to myself.  After all, He promised to help Moses lead the exodus out of Egypt.  He promised to fight for the Israelites time and again from Joshua at Jericho to Nehemiah rebuilding the wall of Jerusalem to Mary & Joseph, Paul & Silas, Peter and so on.

Why would God help?  Isn’t He as frustrated about this as I am?  Hasn’t His patience run out?

2 Chronicles 16:9 – For the eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him… 

So God is actually searching for His children who lost their way be it in one area or many.  He searched for me and found me in a room alone in Ukraine.  He traversed the world and caught up to me.  I can almost see it.  Just as I am deciding whether or not to cancel the ladies event, a knock on the door.  I’m not expecting anyone.  Who could it be? I wonder to myself.  I stand up and slowly walk to the door.

Who is it? I ask.

It’s Me, comes a reply from the other side.  I gasp!  There is only One who sounds like that.  He is my Groom.  My Savior.  I turn the key and pull down on the handle.

What are you doing here? I ask in wonder.  Jesus’ face lights up when He sees me.  I just stand there, jaw agape in awe that He is actually here, on my doorstep in Ukraine.

May I come in? He asks with a broad smile, slightly out of breath from running up the 3 flights of stairs.

Oh, I’m sorry.  Yes!  Come in!  

Thanks, He replies.  I’m glad I caught up to you.

Why?

Because you are about to make a really big decision, and I want to be part of it if you’ll let Me.

But, why is this so important to You?

You are important to Me.

Why?

Because I love you.

But, I keep failing in this area.  How is that lovable?

You are lovable.  God the Father made you, and He made you lovely.

But, I’ve failed so many times before.  I have no confidence in myself with this anymore.

That’s okay.  Put your confidence in Me.

But, I am tired, Jesus.  I don’t want to, can’t, fight this anymore.

He takes my hands in His and sits down with me.  He looks at me with eyes that make time stop, heartbeats still, and breath shallow.  His love permeates the room.  I cannot hear anything else, see anything else, feel anything else, but his warm, tender, and gentle hands holding mine.

I love you with an everlasting love.  Don’t you see, it’s not about what you can or cannot do.  It’s not about who anyone, including yourself, has told you who you are.  Isn’t not about your track record.  It’s about who you are in Me.  I complete you.  When you asked me into your heart, I made you whole.  I make you strong.  I heal your hurts.  I am your breath.  I am life living in you.  You have, for so long, lived in defeat.  But, like every other time in your life when you leaned on Me, will you do it this time?  I’ve got your best interest at heart.  Our Father is always working for the good of those who love Him.  You are tired of listening to everyone else, including yourself, tell you who you are not.  Will you listen to Me tell you who you are?

A lump swells in my throat.  Tears stream down my face and my nose begins to run.  Eyes sting from salty tears, my bottom lip quivers at the thought of perhaps listening to my Savior, my best friend, my groom.

I furrow my brow in deep decision.  This is not easy.  Every ounce of self-hate has risen to the surface.  Every hurtful word is screaming at me.  The enemy is beside himself that Jesus has locked him out of the room.  I hear him furiously pounding on the door.

Christ leans and whispers so close I feel His breath.  His hands holding mine.  Will you listen to Me tell you who you are?

My head drops, and through stinging tears and a runny nose, I ever-so-slightly nod and utter beneath my sobbing, Yes.

He leans toward me even more, resting His forehead on mine, noses almost touching, and through tears of His own, He smiles and says, You are…My beloved.

I fall into His arms.  It is enough.  It is more than enough.  I breathed in those two words and they entered my body.  They shot straight to my heart, my spirit, and began their healing work.  Like a physician’s hands performing delicate surgery, those two words healed my heart from the inside out.

Did that encounter physically happen?  Yes and no.  No, Jesus did not come in tangible human form, but He did come by way of the Bible.  As I sat on the edge of the bed, I came to an answer.

Yes.  I would listen.  Yes.  I would open myself up, become vulnerable, and listen to what He had to say.  He led me to Scripture after Scripture telling me who I am to Him and in Him.  It was one of the most precious hours of my entire life.  With every verse, scars disappeared from my heart.  The voice of Truth eradicated the lies that have plagued me for over two decades.

No other god would, or could, do this.

I stood that night, before beautiful women and shared.  I shared from the depth of my soul words He had for them…and for me.  Their tears were my tears.  Their Truth was my Truth.

I returned from Ukraine a different person.  God asked me to leave all the hurt and pain with Him, and I did.  I left the self-hate, too.  I physically felt the weight of this lift from me.  Physically.  Crazy, huh?  I feel a peace from the inside out.  Peace that is not of this world.  My good moments before were only that – moments.  This is 24/7.  He healed me.  I am at peace with Him and with myself.  His words of who I am are the only sound I hear in this issue that no longer has a hold on me. I am free.

I am whole.  I am at rest.  I am victorious.  Because of Christ’s victory over death, we who follow Him are invited to have victory in our lives.  Our entire lives – every area.

I am eternally grateful He didn’t leave me in the pit in which I was trapped.  I am so humbled He sought me and deemed my problem worthy of His time and effort.  He did a mighty work in me and all He asked of me was to let Him do it.  I didn’t have to prove anything, be of eloquent speech or show my own strength.  I simply chose to trust Him.

God is on our side.  He is a good God.  He is faithful.  God is love.  Jesus, indeed You are the Prince of Peace.  Thank You.  I love You.