tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87750653608270726272024-03-12T18:35:36.201-07:00Meeting God in the Every DayWendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.comBlogger347125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-3161634047786230172024-03-12T18:34:00.000-07:002024-03-12T18:34:44.127-07:00Love One Another<p style="text-align: center;">"This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you."</p><p style="text-align: center;">John 15:12</p><p style="text-align: left;">According to the Old Testament, we are to love the Lord with all of our hearts, souls, minds, and might and to love our neighbors as ourselves. The commandment given in John 5:12 tells us how we can begin to fulfill the Old Testament command. Essentially, this verse is telling us to look at how Jesus loved and to use that as our standard for loving. It's clear from both His words and His actions that Jesus loved His heavenly Father, loved His friends, loved strangers, loved Himself, and even loved His enemies. </p><p style="text-align: left;">What did Jesus' love look like? It looked like spending time with His Father alone in prayer. It looked like trusting His Father even in the midst of storms, mistreatment, rejection, false accusations, and extremely difficult tasks. It looked like resisting the temptation Satan placed in front of Him. It looked like seeking out people and teaching, admonishing, and exhorting them. It looked like touching the untouchable and healing the sick, the lame, the blind, and the deaf. It looked like spending time with those who were deemed less than--the children, those in bondage to sin, and those who were outcasts from social circles. It looked like casting demons out of the souls of men. It looked like crossing the cultural, gender, economic, and spiritual boundaries to invite all who would come into a relationship with Him. At times it looked like being social and partying with friends at a wedding a grieving with those who lost a loved one. It looked like sharing openly His heart and seeking out others where they were. It looked like wrestling 's so hard emotionally that He sweat blood over God's will for Him to go to the cross in the face of His own desire to avoid it. It looked like choosing to obey His Father, even in that severe state of angst, just so that He could demonstrate God's great love and reconcile us to Himself. It looked like loving His enemies.</p><p style="text-align: left;">When we think of Jesus' enemies, we tend to think of Satan, the Pharisees, and those who put Him to death. But according to Romans 5:10, we were all enemies of God before we were reconciled to Him through Jesus. That's such a sobering thought. If Jesus considered us His enemies when He chose the cross on our behalf, what right do we have to refuse to love those we call enemies? If we're serious about loving the way He loves, we must identify and acknowledge our enemies and choose to love them. They're the people who aren't for us and the people who are proactively against us. They're the people who glare daggers at us every time they see us. They are the people who are nice to our faces, but speak ugly words about us behind our backs. They're the abusers who robbed us of our innocence or who left bruises on our bodies, and on our hearts as well. They're those who criticized us, wounding us to the core of our being with harsh words, untruths, and judgements. They're those who refused to see us, withholding their love and compassion. They're those who isolate us through slander, who kill our joy, or who rob our hope on a daily basis. They're those in positions of God-given authority who use their positions to harm us. Some might even consider God an enemy because He didn't protect them from the evil they experienced. But, sadly, for many of us, our worst enemies are ourselves. </p><p style="text-align: left;">Every person we hate is a person Jesus loved unto death. That same Spirit who loved us unto death indwells us and gives us the capacity to love when it's humanly impossible to do so. As we bask in His love, we are able to love with His love--and that's a love without limits. It's a love that offers the gospel to those we would deem the most undeserving. </p><p style="text-align: left;">To love as He loves, we must take an honest look at ourselves and the motives behind the words we speak, the actions we carry out, and our reactions to life. Sometimes our motives are loving and at other times our motives are selfish, self-serving, and/or driven by fear. We are capable of showing what looks like great kindness with a motive of hoping another will return the kindness. Some of us look like people who love well, but in truth we are people pleasers who are afraid to say "no" out of fear that someone would get angry with us, abandon us, or think that we are bad Christians. Sometimes we are serving others, hoping to earn favor with God. Sometimes we may serve compulsively to avoid dealing with the pain in our hearts, the anxiety we experience in our souls when things are out of control. Sometimes we keep the peace and refuse to rock the boat by speaking God's powerful truth into situations and relationships that desperately need it to be godly and healthy.</p><p style="text-align: left;">If we want to love as God loves, we need to understand the truth of 1 John 4:19, "We love because He first loved us." We can gain understanding of His love by spending time in the gospels and seeing how Jesus loved others and by seeing his Sacrifice for our sin. We can understand it even more by studying the attributes of God, gaining and understanding of how pure and holy God's love is. God's love pours from His character, not from a desire to get something from us. His love never rejoices in wrong and will always want what is best for us. His love is eternal, and it is based on His omniscience, which means there never was a time that He didn't love us and there will never be a time when He will cease loving us. His love is not dependent on our behaviors, thoughts, service, intelligence, or our appearance. It is only dependent on God and His Character. Our great God is a relational God and He desires us to be relational beings who love in ways that foster growth in us and in those we love. May the truth of His love compel us to love God with all that we are, to love others, and to love ourselves as well. </p><p style="text-align: left;">(Adapted from Glimpses of God 11, Loving from a Pure Heart, by Wendy J. Mahill and Nancy Keller, Xulon Press) </p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-77865295993742964622023-11-27T16:19:00.000-08:002023-12-05T13:29:50.559-08:00Acceptance the Road to Perseverance<p>In September I had the privilege of attending a world conference for counselors. The workshops are amazing, but I think for me the conversations about what we are learning are just as important for growth as both a person and a people helper. Brent, the pastor we were with, said that he believed acceptance played a huge part in peoples healing, I nodded in agreement and have continued to ruminate on the concept of acceptance these last couple of months. I wondered where I learned that concept and realized I had observed it both in others and in my own healing journey. </p><p>Over the years I have been a person that people have confided in. And there have been several times as someone has shared their story with me, that I found myself silently asking, "Lord, do you not see how much this person has already suffered and now they are facing this, too?" My question isn't an angry "how dare You" question, it is a plea for His compassion and love to be poured out on the suffering person speaking to me. I am going to share a couple of examples of people I have admired and learned from. </p><p>The first person was my dear friend, Millie, whom I met over forty years ago. She had already lost her parents when we met, and we quickly became family even though we initially were at different life stages--she was single and longing for a husband and I was married and popping out babies every 20 months. </p><p>After she got married, she was so excited when she got pregnant and then had a miscarriage. A couple of years later, she helped us move several states away, just as she found out she was pregnant again. When her baby was about six months old, he passed away. I went and stayed with her, and we grieved hard, and then I returned home knowing her grief would go on for some time. She got pregnant soon with twins and later in her pregnancy, she called to tell me she had lost one of the twins and was on bed rest in every effort to save the live baby. So, as she gave birth to twins, she was both celebrating the birth of a daughter and grieving hard the loss of her other daughter. She went on and had another little boy. </p><p>They came to see us when the kids were around five and three. The five-year-old, realized I had five kids and when her mom went to the bathroom, she came up to me and asked me if I knew her mama had five children, too. I told her I did and that I had met her older brother before he passed away and that he was funny, loved music like his mama, and that her parents loved all of their babies, even those in heaven. I sensed her mama in the hall listening and when she came out, she mouthed the words, "Thank you." </p><p>Because they were open with their kids about their story, we were able to have awesome eternal conversations about life and death and trusting God in the hard. Millie and I were graced with a four-hour phone conversation two days before she passed away. And one of the things she told me was, "I need you to know how much I have been blessed and how much I have enjoyed my kids. I believe that was partly because she embraced grief and reached acceptance and was free to love and experience joy even when she thought of her losses. Not going to sugar coat it...her grief was complicated and hard, but she moved through it, and it allowed her to persevere in her faith until the day she died. </p><p>The next person I am telling you about was a professor and a counselor, named Norm Wright. I took his Biola grief and trauma class, at our church a couple of times and then I had the privilege of assisting him in the class for several years. He and his first wife Joyce had two children. One was a boy who was born with severe mental handicap and health problems. Through acceptance he, could see Matthew's "little" accomplishments and enjoy him. Matthew lived several years and eventually passed away. Norm leaned into grief and learned all he could about it and before long he was a chaplain that went to places like New York after 9/11, churches or schools that had experienced mass shootings, and banks that had experienced robberies, debriefing people who had experienced trauma. He took his therapy dogs and served people well. His wife was diagnosed with a brain tumor and eventually passed away as a result. Then he lost his daughter and his son-in-law as well. He continued to show up and serve people in the face of so much loss. He went to GriefShare with us all and continued to go long after he probably needed it just so he could serve those who were suffering loss. I believe his acceptance of his story filled with losses caused him to persevere and to serve out of what he learned through his own grief. He, too, persevered in his faith until the day he died. </p><p>During the time I first met Norm, I was working with a therapist because I had not dealt with some trauma I had experienced early in life. I was afraid of strong emotions was using an eating disorder to avoid painful emotions that sometimes surfaced with memories. Several times she had me discuss a trauma and visualize the time and place as I closed my eyes. She would quietly count to a hundred so I would know I wasn't alone and if I started feeling intense emotions, I would know by the number how much longer I would sit in it. I think it was the third time that we did it, that I was committed to fulling sitting in all of the emotion and not running from it. About halfway through the exercise, I realized this memory we were processing was my story and I was okay. </p><p>As soon as we were through with the exercise, she asked me what happened at a certain number. I explained the best I could at the time, but realized later that what I had experienced was acceptance of the hard things I had experienced. I had not realized the fear of facing the real story had kept me stuck. Until then, I had not realized the fear of feeling was actually bigger than the grief and the righteous anger that was normal for what I experienced. Because I was able to experience acceptance of my story, I was able to persevere in my faith even when it was hard. Because of acceptance, I was able to experience God as a healer. Because of acceptance, I was able to write curriculum to help others navigate their trauma, work and to develop and run a ministry I had never ever imagined running.</p><p>God has been good to me, as there are many other stories I could have shared. There are many people he put in my path to teach me about trauma and its impact on us as humans and as believers. He put people in my life to model Jesus' compassion and others to speak or write out truths I needed to hear. One of the most significant things I have learned recently was penned by a speaker/counselor named Phil Monroe who said that one of the myths we face as sufferers or healers is, "Suffering is God's way of strengthening me." That myth is simply a minimization of the suffering we have experienced. It is true that God will be glorified when we seek Him in the face of suffering, and if we do the work necessary, we may even gain some strength as we process our trauma and its impact on us. But the truth is God's heart for the hurting tells us that suffering is not His master plan for growth. As Phil put it, "When suffering entered the world, God's master plan was to pursue lost people (Gen. 3:9, 21) and to care for them. Suffering is the result of evil and of living in a fallen world. And our God is not evil! HE is GOOD! </p><p>When I had the first conversation about acceptance at the conference, I sensed there was something missing that we weren't addressing. Then this week it hit me, the truth that a part of healing is acceptance was for me an incomplete thought. For me acceptance has also been the path to perseverance that has been what deepened my faith in Jesus and has given me rest in the Abba's arms. </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p>\ </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-42041972298952974392023-08-25T09:08:00.004-07:002023-08-25T09:08:58.159-07:00Oh, Those Pesky Birthdays<p> I recently had a conversation with an awesome group of friends when it came out that three of us have had birthdays this month. One friend expressed all the craziness she experienced around her birthday, leaving the rest of us amazed and relieved that someone had so adequately and so cutely verbalized what we have all been experiencing, but never acknowledged out loud. At one time or another we all had wished we were like those girls who got excited and announced from the mountain tops that it is their birthday month and celebrate loud and big all month, but we aren't. I can't remember her eloquent words exactly so I will simply try to express what has gone ion in my own heart and mind over the years when my birthday rolls around. </p><p>I have one birthday picture I love that my mom set me before she passed away. I have held on to it because it was before all of the crazy thoughts and feelings centered around birthdays started. It was my fourth birthday, and I am standing in front of my birthday cake in a beautiful pastel plaid dress that my mom had made. I am posed in front of the cake, holding the skirt of the dress out, with joy beaming though my smile and the excitement written on my face. Within a few years my reactions to birthdays grew more reserved as I began to experience ambivalence bubbling up inside of me whenever my birthday rolled around. </p><p>For me, that meant I wanted people to know my birthday was coming and at the same time I didn't want them to know. I wanted people to wish me a happy birthday and at the same time I was afraid they might acknowledge it. I wanted a birthday cake and at the same time I didn't want to have to have the cake placed in front of me, causing the attention to be squarely on me as I blew out the candles. I wanted people to sing Happy Birthday and at the same time I was petrified and knew my face would be beet red when they did, especially if we went to our favorite Mexican restaurant and the wait staff brought over the huge sombrero to don as the whole restaurant joined in lively song. And as I began to age, I also wrestled with not wanting others to know my age and at the same time wanting to grow old gracefully and learn to celebrate ever trip around our sun God gives me. </p><p>And then there came this whole social media thing. When I joined social media, I filled in the information, which included my birthday, not knowing everyone would wish me happy birthday. I was so overwhelmed as I read so many sweet messages. I soon deleted my birthdate from my page for a year and found myself thinking about those messages left the previous year. So, after some contemplation I added my birthdate back to my profile and thought it is time to try to lean into birthdays and figure out where all the crazy angst comes from. </p><p>As my friends and I were talking, I realized this was the first year that I can honestly say that much of the ambivalence around my birthday was gone. There are serval reasons for this. First by leaning into the birthdays through social media I have had the opportunity to read lots of birthday messages. That so many would take the time to acknowledge my birthdays floors me. And there are those that take the time every year to write beautiful affirmations, stating the things that they see and appreciate in me. Some have shared the way that I have impacted their lives, often in ways I didn't even realize as I know I have lived such an imperfect life. At times there has also been Bible verses left, speaking God's truth over my life. For example, Psalm 39-13-16 reminded me that I am fearfully and wonderfully made and that it was God who carefully perfectly knit me together in my mother's womb and that He knew my days before they even began. And there is Isaia 43:7 and Revelation 4:11 that remind me I was created for His glory. These verses all tell me I wasn't an accident, I was planned for and that there wasn't ever a time that I wasn't wanted by Him. And then Ephesians 2:10 reminds me I am God's workmanship. </p><p>This year as I read my birthday posts, I was so amazed at the people that God has put into my life over the years and the many different locations and life stages we have lived. As I read each message, God blessed me with sweet memories and kindnesses given by each person. One friend who was in band with me in junior high left a message and two other girls that were also her friends left messages directly under hers. It was perfect because the memory that pops into mind as I read their posts is of the three of them standing with me getting ready to perform in a concert. They were a year older than I was and as a junior higher I looked up to them. They were always so sweet to me and modeled such beauty and grace. I don't think they knew how much of an encouragement they were to me as an awkward junior higher. There were other messages from women who were in my life from grade school, high school, and when I was a young mom, all of whom modeled so many things for me. There were also beautifully written messages by people who have seen me at my worst and privy to my raw emotions that somehow still saw beauty and value in me as I live life. This 70-year-old is an extremely blessed birthday girl whose heart is so filled.</p><p>The other thing that has helped me get more comfortable with birthdays is that I have been blessed with grandchildren who celebrate birthdays big. I have gotten texts filled with balloons and confetti, funny birthday memes, bitmoji's of birthday hugs and even birthday songs left as messages on my phone. I have even been invited on birthday lunch dates at Chick Filet! Who could resist? A few years ago, my daughter who is an educator and was in the middle of starting her new year messaged me from work and said we needed to come up with a plan as her sons were blowing up her phone reminding her it was my birthday and they needed to celebrate me. Who am I to argue with grandchildren over who deserves to be celebrated?</p><p>I do wish I had learned these lessons earlier in life as I know I would have celebrated my husband, my children, my parents, my grandparents, and my friend's birthdays more consistently and in much bigger ways, recognizing they, too, deserve to be celebrated and rejoiced over even in the midst of some discomfort they might feel over birthdays. I am so thankful that those pesky birthdays have become reminders of the beautiful people God has placed in my life at just the right time to give me companionship, encouragement, comfort, love, and more joy than I could have ever asked for or dreamed of having. I encourage you to remember that it isn't selfish to celebrate your birthdays, God planned you, knitted you together, and has ordained your days just as He has mine! Don't believe the lies centered that feed the birthday angst. You worthy of celebration.</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-76586005146878656742023-08-13T19:21:00.004-07:002023-08-13T19:21:59.701-07:00Houston, we have a Humanitarian Problem<p>In 2012, I had the opportunity to watch a movie called Trade of Innocents and was awakened to the ugly truth of child sex trafficking. It started the conversation in our country but did not have as big of an impact as I hoped it would. I am so thankful another movie, The Sound of Freedom, has had a much larger impact and that more people are seeing this film and talking about it. However, I have been frustrated that some news casters have claimed the film is made up conspiracy theories. I suspect that is because they want to politicize the film, so they don't have to take an honest look at the human (both adult and child) trafficking being spawned by open borders and human smugglers. </p><p>Trafficking of humans and sexual abuse is not a conspiracy theory. Both have been around from the beginning of time. The Old Testament makes it clear that it was woven into various pagan religions when children were offered as human sacrifices and virgin daughters were sacrificed to priests who then used them as temple prostitutes. If we read through the Pentateuch and the prophetic books, we can see all sorts of ugly, horrendous actions perpetrated by mankind. The Bible tells stories that reveals that women were little more than property, not viewed as image bearers of the living God. It is clear that there were times wives and daughters were less important than men and not protected. I am going to share some stories from the Bible and encourage survivors to take care of yourself as you read.</p><p>The first story I want to talk about is found in Genesis 19. Lot and his wife and daughters had settled in Sodom and Gomorrah. Tso angels in human form came to warn Lot that God was going to destroy the cities because of their moral decline. Lot invited them into his home and soon the house was surrounded by men of all ages clamoring for Lot to deliver the men to them to gang rape. At first Lost seems like a good guy wanting to protect his guest, but things took an ugly turn when he stepped out to offer the crowd two virgin daughters to abuse instead. They tried to press past Lot to get the "men" and the angels reached out and pulled Lot inside and struck the whole group of men with blindness so that they could not get in the door. This is one place where the daughters had no agency over their bodies and lives and were seen more like property and less value than guests who were strangers. </p><p>Now we will skip to Genesis 34 and look at Dinah's life. She was the daughter of Jacob and Leah. A Hivite prince named Shechem thought he loved her and seized her and raped her and then decided he wanted her as his wife. She again had no agency over her body or her life and like some women in our day became a political pawn. Her brothers became angry and acted like the prince could marry her, if all the men in the Hivite community would get circumcised. So, they did. Then the brothers attacked and killed all the Hivite men on the third day of surgical recovery and plundered everything belonging to those they killed, including their wives and children.</p><p>Next, we will visit 2 Sammuel 11-12. This is the story of David and Bathsheba. Most of the things I learned about early in my faith was that she seduced him. The more I read this story and the more I learned of the culture of that day, I realized that isn't true. It was a case of power rape. David as the king was supposed to be out of town fighting battles and she was bathing as was customary after her period. He was walking around his roof and saw her and sent men to bring her to him, knowing her husband was at war. I don't believe she had a lot of choice, because in the story of Esther even a ruler's wife was at the mercy of her husband if she approached him uninvited. When Bathsheba got pregnant, David had her husband killed in battle so he could hide his sin and look like he was simply providing for her. The prophet Nathan came and confronted him and him alone, by exposing his predatory choice to take someone that did not belong to him. Nathan warned him that his secret actions that had so dishonored his God would be dealt with publicly. </p><p>The last story we will discuss is the story of Tamar found in 2 Samuel 13 and reveals an example of generational sin. David had a son named Amnon and a beautiful virgin daughter named Tamar. Amon thought he had fallen in love his half-sister and confided in one of his friends who crafted an ugly plan. Amnon followed the plan and pretended to be sick and had his dad send Tamar to bake him cakes. So, David sent her and when Tamar arrived at Amnon's house, he was lying down. She made the cakes in view of his sight and when she emptied the pan before him, he refused to get up to eat. He sent everyone else out of the home and told Tamar to bring the food into his chamber and feed him. She took the cakes to him and when she leaned over with a cake in hand, he told her to come lie with him. She said, "No, my brother, do not violate me, for such a thing is not done in Israel; do not do this outrageous thing." She went on to remind him of the shame she would bear and that he would be considered a fool. She suggested he talk to their father to see if they could marry. He took her by force and violated her and immediately Amnon hated her with a hatred way deeper that the "love" he had loved her with. He he told her to go, leaving filled with shame and grief she put ashes on her head, robe that signified her status as a virgin daughter. She wept hard and lived a desolate life in her brother Absalom's house. And even though David got angry when he heard about the rape, he asked Absalom to spare his life, offering Tamar no words of comfort with the lack of justice for her. </p><p>Even though these are Biblical Stories, the behaviors of the people involved do not reflect the heart of God. God cares about children. Matthew 18:10 says, "See that you do not despise one of these little ones. For I tell you that in heaven their angels always see the face of my Father who is in heaven." In addition, Jesus crossed the social norms of his day to serve children and women. Matthew 10:24 says, "And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward." Matthew 18:6 says, "But whoever causes one of these little ones who believes in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea." </p><p>Jesus actions crossed the social and cultural mores of his day. He healed two daughters in Mark 5:21-43. The first was a 12-year-old whose dad was Jarius, a leader of the synagogue. The second had been bleeding for the entire 12 years the other had been alive. Her bleeding wasn't an inconvenience, it was a matter of life and death and had left her poverty stricken and exiled from social activities. But for some reason she believed if she could touch His clothing, she would be well. She reached. She touched and she was healed and Jesus' words, "Daughter, your faith has made you well; go in peace and be healed of your disease," sweetly reestablished her socially into the community. Jesus then went to Jairus's home where is little girl lay, having passed away. He raised her from the dead and told them to give her something to eat. This passage of care is a powerful antidote to misogynistic tendencies of men in that day. It proves that women and children are not less valuable than men in God's eyes.</p><p>John 8:1-11 is the story of a woman who was caught in adultery. She was thrust at Jesus feet without the partner of the adulterous act. Jesus penned untold words in the sand and challenged those who were without sin to cast the first stones. And one by one the men turned and left, and Jesus tells looked her in the eye and said, "Neither do I condemn you." Jesus made it clear that church is to be a place of compassion and grace, even for women. He also made it clear that women were not to be expected to pay for the sins of the men in their life. </p><p>In John 4:1-30, Jesus crossed the barriers of gender, nationality, tribe, and religion when he conveniently sits by a well so that he can have a lengthy conversation with a Samaritan woman who had had five husbands and was now living with a man to whom she wasn't married. After touching on her life's story, the conversation turned into theological debate that resulted in her believing in Jesus and God used this socially ostracized daughter to bring her community to Himself. </p><p>In Luke 13:10-17 Jesus was confronted for healing a woman who had been suffering physically for 18 years on the Sabbath. He stood up to the religious leaders who condemned the healing on the Sabbath saying, "Ought not this woman, a daughter of Abraham who Satan bound for eighteen long years, be set free from this bondage on the Sabbath day? </p><p>And then in Mark 14:3-9 another woman poured costly ointment on Jesus' head, causing those in the vicinity to complain about the waist. Jesus again defended her for showing Him love in the way she did. He said, "Truly I tell you, wherever the good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her." He was defending and celebrating her lavish act of love in the anointing of His body and the fact that women are often the intuitive and compassionate ones to meet important needs. </p><p>With what I have shared I hope you can see that the stories of abuse are nothing new to this world. They are not conspiracy theories. They happen everywhere--both inside and outside the church. It happens in families, friend circles, in communities, in schools, in every people group across the world. When will we wake up as human beings and realize this is not a political issue, not made-up stories of hysterical women, it is a critical humanitarian crisis that needs immediate attention, Our God's heart is weeping for every victim, and the Lion of Judah--He is roaring to get our attention. How are we going to respond? What actions are we going to take. </p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-6258694688626397322023-07-01T22:20:00.004-07:002023-07-01T22:22:43.897-07:00Just Trying Harder No More<p>I've been pondering something for the last six weeks or so. I could not remember a time that <b>just try harder </b>wasn't my mantra. When I was trying to figure out when those words had become a part of my mind set, a childhood scene popped into my head. When I was 9, my parents were struggling in their marriage and brought us kids into the living room to tell us they were going to get a divorce. I remember crying and begging them to just try harder. They listened to us and they each took a short break from the family and each other and came back together and decided to try harder. And try they did. They managed to stay married until we were all out of the house. </p><p>In high school I tried hard at a lot of things and when I didn't feel like I did them well enough I would just try harder and harder. Whether I was drawing or writing or do schoolwork, it was not unusual for me to be up most of the night. It was during those years I developed an eating disorder. The way I tried to overcome the disorder was to confess it as sin and try harder. I spent years and years and years just trying harder. It didn't matter what phase I was in--the dieting/restricting phase, the binging phase, the compulsive exercising phase, or the self-condemning thoughts with which I struggled--trying harder was always my goal until I realized I was too exhausted to try anymore and that just trying harder and harder while doing the same thing over and over would never set me free. </p><p>There were also different areas of sin that I've dealt with over my lifetime and in the beginning my goal was again always to just try harder. And again, the trying harder didn't often get me freedom from besetting sins that tripped me up. The trying harder phase of life did not allow me to experience grace and give rise to consistent victory. And that increased shame, which often led back to sin. </p><p>And then there was my own relationship patterns that had plenty of bumps and bruises in them. I just tried harder as a wife, a mother, a friend, and ministry leader only to find myself exhausted and longing for better relationships, and yet doing and saying things that were detrimental to the relationships I valued. How I longed to be a blessing to others, not a burden; a giver, not a taker; an encourager, not a critic; a radical giver of love, not one sucking others dry; and a bold truth speaker, not a people pleaser, driven by fear.</p><p>As I was contemplating where the trying harder came from, the words from 1 Timothy 4:7b, 15 popped into my head, "Rather train yourself for godliness...practice these things immerse yourself in them, so that all may see your progress. (I know I skipped a few verses here and encourage you to read the whole chapter.) What if we deleted the words "just try harder" from our vocabulary and looked at growth through a lens of training and practicing?</p><p>If one is training for a sport or a job, there are things she might do. She might read training materials, attend classes, employ a life, professional, or sports coach to work with. After gaining head knowledge, she would then begin to put that knowledge into practice under the guidance of a coach, who could help her set reasonable goals that would enable her to grow in her skills, while at the same time not setting herself up for failure. When she fails or stumbles, the coach helps her reevaluate what she did in the moment and what she could do differently to get a different outcome without getting disheartened. It is in this way an athlete can earn medals, a teacher can become a master teacher, or a public speaker can capture an audience. This is applying the principles of 1 Timonthy 4!</p><p>I realize now that when I sought help from a Christian therapist for my eating disorder, I started therapy with the just try harder mindset. Before long my therapist began to provide education, trauma therapy, practical tools that I could practice using, and helped me set reasonable goals that were doable and helped me quit doing the same thing over and over, hoping for a different outcome. In addition, she allowed me to experience both truth and grace, giving me a safe place to be totally honest when I stumbled and helped me learn from the failures and move forward more quickly. I continued to try hard because I wanted to gain freedom, but I also learned to try smarter by applying the principles of training and practicing that are found in 1 Timonthy 4. The eating disorder work wasn't so black and white or all or nothing for me anymore. The disorder was complex, and I leaned to look for growth in a lot of different areas not just in the ability to rigidly adhere to a diet. </p><p>When my parents were struggling in their marriage, there was not a lot of good materials on marriage and their generation was more private. So, they didn't have anyone other than their kids begging them to try harder. But I have realized my husband and I have had concepts of training and practice built into our marriage. We spent years in a fellowship group reading and discussing books on marriage with other people who valued marriage and wanted to learn how to have godly marriages. Then we spent some time in a counselor's office talking more specifically about the weaknesses in our marriage and were able to gain some valuable education and tools and see healthier communication demonstrated for us. In addition, we have been a part of a lay counseling ministry and at times have had the privilege of educating, giving tools and encouragement, and reminders of the importance of practicing over and over what at times feels foreign to the couple and if we are honest to us as well. </p><p>When I look back at the times that I was trying to overcome besetting sin and growing in godliness, I was more successful and grew more when I applied the principles of training and practicing. A part of the education was saturating my mind with God's word and the truth about who He is and who am in relationship to Him. I also educated myself on what I was dealing with at the time and put into place accountability, mentoring, counseling, or coaching, with someone who could see the big picture and help me set reasonable goals that help set me up for success. </p><p>I wish every young-in-the-faith believer were taught the concepts of training in godliness and practicing the things that promote growth, rather than focusing on a list of sins to avoid or things to do to be a "good" Christian. </p><p>I wish that parents would begin to teach their children to be godly friends by applying training and practicing. They need to be taught about relationships and practicing the skills they need to navigate them when their relationships become hard. </p><p>I wish that every young couple getting married would go into it with an understanding of God's beautiful design of marriage and then gain the training they need to begin to build a godly marriage and then practice the things they learn over and over until they become second nature to them. I love how God loves us and gives us what we need to grow in godliness. </p><p>But this gal is just trying harder no more, I am training and practicing.</p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-10877107422956226292023-02-20T15:31:00.002-08:002023-02-20T15:31:42.329-08:00Messy Churches are Growing Churches<p>When I first started going to church, I did not know the church culture or church etiquette. My lack of knowledge caused me to be extremely self-conscious and hyper-vigilant. I tried to dress like everyone dressed and tried to act the way I saw others act at church. I remember sitting in the little church near my house on one of the first hot days of the year. I was in night grade, and I remember getting so hot that my face felt flushed, but I was afraid it would be wrong if I got up and opened a window. I sat there until someone in the choir motioned for me to open the window. I opened the window because an adult said to, but I felt awkward and embarrassed, thinking I was being a disruption. </p><p>Many years later, I read Mike Yaconelli's <i>Messy Spirituality: God's Annoying Love for Imperfect People, </i>which quickly became one of my favorite books. In it and some of his other writings he talks about the little church he pastored. He had a young gal in the church, who like me was not familiar with church culture, but she handled it way different than I did. If she had a question, she would not wait until the sermon was over, she would just blurt out her question. Mike said the first time she blurted out a question, he was taken back because we simply don't do that in church. But he grew to love her impulsivity, because it revealed her thirst for knowledge of God and he chose to give up his preconceived ideas of what his church "should look like." I admire her and wish I would have been more like her. I wanted to learn like she did, but as a youth I simply sat on my questions, afraid to even open a window to make the building more comfortable. </p><p>My husband and I have been a part of a large church for over twenty years. Even though I am a small-town-girl at heart, I've grown comfortable in the church and know when to stand, when to sit, when to bow, when to sing, and when to listen. Because of its size and location, our church tends to have people that are a lot like me in it. I am short in stature, easily distracted, and a relational person so I have convinced my husband to sit on the second row so I can see the pastor and worship leaders up close, which helps me stay more engaged and to feel connected to what is going on. Over the last couple of years, several different people our age who claimed the chairs directly in front of us have come and gone.</p><p>When our church opened up after covid, we quickly reclaimed our usual spot, and soon a young man named Travis started coming and sitting right in front of us. Travis is an exuberant person who has a learning disability and because of that he is not like the others who have owned the seat before him. He sings loud and he dancers big during worship, sometimes requiring my husband and I us to take a step back to avoid his moving arms. He blurts out things to lets the pastors know when he loves what they are teaching about Jesus. And he has made some connections with a person he feels safe with and sometimes turns around when he hears something in the sermon that he likes and loudly state his excitement to his safe friend. </p><p>I confess I was overwhelmed by Travis at first and have felt compelled to check my heart for the expectations I have of what I think church should look like. Thankfully, I have slowly developed an appreciation for our seat mate who sits so faithfully on the front row. I have grown to love his passion for the Word, His exuberant worship, his loud verbalizations where maybe Amen might be shouted from the congregation in a church more charismatic ours. I even appreciate his sweet desire to connect with his safe friend around the Truth because that is an eternal connection that will never die. </p><p>A couple of weeks ago, Travis was there and participating as big as ever in worship, but after worship he got up and left. When he left, I realized I was sad that he left. I was also quietly proud of myself for having adjusted and being able to appreciate him. The thought that maybe I had learned the lesson God wanted me to learn from Travis crossed my mind, but just as Travis exited down one aisle another man entered and walked all the way to the front and sat down in Travis' seat. He was an older gentleman, wearing tattered clothes that a homeless man might wear. He had a baseball cap with what I had thought was a handkerchief underneath the cap to cover his neck like farm workers often wear to protect their skin. I was okay until I turned my focus to the pastor who was starting to preach and noticed the scarf on his neck wasn't a scarf. It had a waist band and was fully visible on the side of his head. Realizing the scarf was boxer shorts, made me uncomfortable like I was seeing someone in their underwear. I didn't know where to look, because if I looked at the pastor, the underwear on his head that were in my line of sight. So, I tried to keep my vision on the large screens so I could focus on hearing the sermon, not the neck covering. When the sermon ended, much to my delight, the man sang the closing songs much like our Travis would. Loud, passionately, with lots of hand motions that accented the words of the song perfectly, and his voice cracking as he sang about Jesus calling him friend caused my eyes to leak a bit. </p><p>As I think about these two men James 2:1-6 comes to mind, "My brothers, show no partiality as you hold the faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory. For if a man wearing a gold ring and fine clothing comes into your assembly, and a poor man in shabby clothing also comes in, and if you pay attention to the one who wears the fine clothing and say, "You sit here in a good place," while you say to the poor man, "You stand over there," or "Sit down at my feet," have you not then made distinctions among yourselves and become judges with evil thoughts? Listen my beloved brothers, has not God chosen those who are poor in the world to be rich in faith and Heirs of the kingdom, which he has promised to those who love Him?" If Travis's and the gentleman's passionate worship and exuberant responses to the sermons is any indication of their faith, then they are both men who are way richer in faith than me! </p><p>I am hoping God will continue to bring more people like Travis and the stranger who took his sit for that one mourning. They will challenge us in good ways to love those who don't look, or sound like us. It will teach us to appreciate passion that causes some to listen loud, sing passionately, and dance big, and vocalize amens in a lot of different forms. This will free us to give the gospel to people who don't look like our churches look. I believe God is moving in our big church and I want to be someone who grows as a result of His movement. I hope our church becomes more and more messy as a result of God's movement because it is the messy churches that are growing churches. </p><p class="chapter-1" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px; line-height: 2.4rem; min-width: 0px;"><br /></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-18436840988409866832023-02-20T11:14:00.003-08:002023-02-20T11:14:41.727-08:00Building a Life upon the Rock<p>In Matthew 27:24-27 Jesus tells us that everyone who hears His words and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on a rock. That the house stood against the floods and the winds that beat on it. The house stood because it had been built on a solid foundation. He also tells us that everyone who hears His words and doesn't do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on sand. And that house on sand was not able to stand up against the floods and the winds that beat against it. As I think about the times we are living in, I think Jesus words are significant and deserve some deeper contemplation. </p><p>The foundation of our faith is built on the Word of God given to us through people of God's choosing. It includes history that tells us of creation and of our own origin. It tells us of the Fall of man and its consequences that have stretched down though all of human history. It tells us of God's promise to send a Saviour. It includes the Law of Moses, which continually pointed to a coming Messiah, who would save His people. That Messiah ended up being Jesus--the ultimate perfect, sacrificial Lamb of God. It includes the books of poetry that show how relational, how compassionate, and how loving our God is. It includes words of the prophets that pointed out Israel's repetitive failures that drew their hearts away from the very God who radically loved them. And sadly, we are no different than them. It includes the gospels that tell the story of a God who left glory, took on human flesh and rubbed shoulders with men and women in desperate need of grace and then who performed the ultimate act of love--the laying down of His life purchase our redemption. It includes the book of Acts which reveals what life looks like when God's people are indwelled, filled, and empowered by the Holy Spirit. It includes epistles written to believers, who needed reminders of who God is and what He has done so they could learn how to trust and obey Him and to lean into Him in the hard as they are being purified and built into building of believers. The believers who are living lives of growth as they are continually sanctified by His blood. It includes the book of Revelation that reveals to us bits of Heaven, encouraging us to live with our gaze on Jesus and our hearts set on eternity. </p><p>Lett's think about the foundation of a building for a minute. When builders lay foundations, they lay them to bear the full weight of all of the building materials. The ground must first be leveled and dug out so that footings can be spaced just right so that the building will not fall. There will be layers of rocks and wires and rebar placed in preparation for the concrete to be poured. With out these the foundation would not be strong enough to hold the building. Maybe the groundwork before the foundation could picture the Old Testament. </p><p>Then after the concrete is poured, it will need to be spread, smoothed, and pressed down so that it fills every nook and cranny of the prepared foundation. This will remove any bubbles and thin spots that might weaken it. It will then be tended to for several days so that it can set up perfectly and not become crumbly. No construction will be done until the foundation has completely set. The foundation is a great picture of our Lord, Jesus. As He walked this earth, Satan tried to tempt Him, offering Him counterfeit kingdoms. Satan tried to discourage Him by stirring throngs of crowds to persecute Him and spew hatred at Him. Satan also tried to stop God's plan through discouragement, which sent the Lord to the Garden of Gethsemane with a breaking heart where He pled for another way but the cross, while at the same time yielding Himself fully to His Father's will. And it was Jesus' resolve to yield that makes the foundation of our faith strong enough to build upon. </p><p>We sometimes forget our salvation rests solely on Jesus and His Word. Some of us think our good works, our kind words, our service has somehow helped us merit becoming a part of the house of God. But our good works are only as good as our worst work, our kind words are only as good as our most hurtful words spewed in anger, and our service...well that is only as good as the service we don't render to the one we didn't feel worthy enough to even glance at. A foundation built with any part of us in it is a shoddy foundation because we are a perfectly imperfect people. The foundation has to be built on Jesus and Jesus alone. He is the only one who perfect enough to have died and paid for sin--his resurrection proved that, and we enter into a relationship with Him by faith and faith alone.</p><p>The Word tells us that as we are saved so we shall live. That means we live daily, hourly, moment by moment by faith. If we, as individuals or as congregations, let stress, trials, temptations, business, hurt, or failure take our eyes off of Jesus it is like building a little shack on a massive, glorious foundation. But if we are intentional about keeping our eyes on Jesus, a glorious house will be built that will reflect the Saviour to a lost and dying world. </p><p>It is important to think about what a life of faith looks like. When stress comes, it means remembering who Jesus is and holding on to that so He can dispel the fear and the hesitation that grows so easily in our hearts. When trials come our way, it means remembering that the God who endured and overcame every kind of trial we could ever face indwells us and can strengthen and empower us if we trust Him. When temptations come, it means holding on to Him as long as it takes like Jacob did as He wrestled with God and his own the personal weaknesses. It means remembering that because of the sealing of the Holy Spirit, we are no longer slaves of sin, we are free to walk in victory. When business comes, it means spending time on our knees, asking Him to purify our hearts and motives and trusting Him to order our days so that the use of our gifts and passions are the most fruitful they can be. And when hurt comes it means, remembering that by Jesus' stripes we are healed. He sees what is done to us. He hears the things said to us. He notices the times we're overlooked, ignored, or pushed aside. And those stripes He bore in His body constantly remind us that He, too, suffered trauma in order to love us well. He is for us, and He is offering us Himself. And when failure comes (and it will because we are human) it means keeping our eyes on Jesus and leaning into Him through confession, knowing His blood alone is and always will be enough to cover our sin. The building will still stand in our imperfection because the foundation is perfectly strong--the foundation is a rock. </p><p>As we learn to live by faith, we will learn to live fully in His grace and that will enable us to learn to we learn to love as He loves, which will enable us to come together to build our lives upon the Rock. </p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-39984877583954827342023-01-23T14:54:00.000-08:002023-01-31T15:35:09.700-08:00You Are Essential to the Family of God<p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I was given an opportunity to speak to a beautiful group of ladies comprised of women who have been widowed, gone through divorce, or who were singles who have never been married. Our church calls them the Cheerleaders. I</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> have always viewed this group as a ministry of presence, caring, and perseverance as well as a ministry filled with great wisdom that comes from women walking with God together
through really hard stuff. In this post I am sharing with you, some of the words I shared with them. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">A
couple of years ago the world faced a pandemic that initially rocked us to the core.
Because there was so little known about it, it was presented to the public in terms
that would scare even the bravest of souls. People were only allowed to work if
their jobs were considered essential by the government. This hit hard at the
core need we all have of believing we are significant to our world. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">We
were told to stay home and isolate from anyone not living in
our home. We were told to wash our hands, to not touch our faces, and to wear masks if we went outside. We were told to socially distance at least six feet
when we passed someone. That meant we were to follow arrows in the grocery stores and
stand on little circles in lines to insure we didn’t contaminate one another other. We
were also told to wipe down our groceries when we were putting them away, creating a fear around the very things we needed to survive. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">In
the beginning, if we got covid we were told to go home with no treatment
and only come back if we couldn’t breathe. Families weren't allowed in the
hospital to be advocates for their loved ones and those who died in the
hospital, often died alone. And those who had loved ones that passed away found
that the normal healthy rituals of families gathering to bury their loved ones were
prohibited. Many were left feeling like there was no closure, no
final “goodbyes,” and there was no opportunity to share important memories with
fellow grievers. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">The
American Association of Christian Counselors has reported the pandemic caused a huge rise in people struggling with fear, anxiety, and depression.
There are many reasons for this. One of the biggest reasons is that in our
isolation our “friends” became the journalists giving us the crazy, scary news
updates. Over the last couple of years journalists have also started
sensationalizing stories to get more views. We no longer have winter storms, we
have bomb cyclones or atmospheric rivers. And now news on social media is presents as, “Breaking News!” or news that "broke the
internet." </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Experts have also found people who have had a history of trauma have
been more negatively impacted by covid and its shutdowns. Many have started
experiencing triggers and a resurgence of painful emotions from which they
had previously found healing. I would not be surprised if this is also true for
the women who are in a ministry like Cheerleaders. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">I
spent some years working with a Christian counselor who asked me at one point what word I would use to describe how I felt growing up. The word “invisible”
immediately came to my mind and we spent some time discussing where that might
have come from. I realized the feeling of invisibility can
come from many places. It can come from believing we are not being
heard by God, because of seemingly unanswered prayers. It can come from
believing we are not being heard by people who don’t listen to us, who don’t respond
to what we are saying, or who don’t acknowledge the requests we make. It can
come from believing we are being overlooked in the circles in which we live. It
can come from not being seen in our distress and ignored. And it can come from believing
we were not protected by God or others we viewed as potential protectors. And then
think about all the things we each went through during lockdowns. These are
things of which no one is aware. It just feels so lonely to think about it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">As
I was discussing invisibility with my counselor, I discovered Ann Spangler’s
book, </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Praying the Names of God</i><span style="font-family: inherit;">. In her book, Ann wrote a chapter that
radically spoke to my heart about this issue of invisibility. She shared the
story of Hagar that is found in Genesis 16. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">The Old Testament culture is so different from ours and it can be confusing to try
to understand the stories we read there. But if we just look at these two
ladies in this story as women who are just like us, we will see
they both had reasons to feel invisible. </span></p><p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The
infertile Sarai came out of a country known for its worship of fertility gods.
She was carrying the shame of infertility even in the face of God’s promise to give her
a child. And when years passed, and her menses ceased and still she had no child. She may have thought God wasn’t seeing her or maybe He had abandoned her. So, she
resorted to cultural ways of trying to bring God’s plan about, never considering
the emotional toil it would take on her or on her servant, Hagar. </span></p><p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Then there
was the servant girl who would not have had any rights who was given by her
mistress to a husband who was not her own to get pregnant with a baby that
would not be hers. She showed contempt towards her mistress when conceived, resulting in her being harshly treated. So, she ran. She sat down in
the desert all alone, feeling unseen. </span></p><p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">And God sees her and speaks to her, telling her to return and to submit to
her mistress. He also promised her that </span><b style="font-family: inherit;"><i>her</i></b><span style="font-family: inherit;"> son (Not
Sarai’s) would grow up and become a nation of many. She feels seen and, in her
gratefulness, she ascribes to God the name El Roi. El Roi in the Hebrew
Language means the God who sees, the God who sees me. As I began praying that
name of God, I began to believe I was and always have been seen—seen in the
good times, seen in the trying times, and seen in the hard, grief-filled times.</span></p>
<p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">We may
feel unseen in our circumstances, in our trials, in our relationships, in unresolved
conflicts, in our ministries, and in our isolation. And those who have experienced
the loss of a spouse through death or divorce or who never were married may also be feeling invisible
because we are living in a culture that is both youth and relationship driven.
Older women are often overlooked or looked down upon as they age. And those of you who have found themselves traveling through the messy journey of grief and
singleness again are wondering where you fit in. I want to remind you that you are
a part of an extended family, eternal family and that our
Abba, sees you. He has not abandoned you and He is not done with
you. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I want to remind you that your
wisdom and your gifts are still valuable to the body of Christ. If you are
still beathing, you are called to ministry. It may look different than it did once did and that is okay. </span></span></p><p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I encourage
you to monitor what you are listening to and what you are watching. If it
causes anxiety or fear, turn the channel. I also
encourage you to serve others by looking for everyday ways to love well. </span><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;"> Maybe a new widow needs your ministry. Maybe
she needs you to go with her to a scary doctor’s appointment. Maybe she needs you to share how to navigate paying her bills and
calling repairmen. Maybe she simply needs your ministry of presence as she
cries. You, who have walked this journey, know better than anyone the pain and the
longings she is experiencing, and you will have the wisdom
needed to know when and how to encourage her to take a needed step
in the grief journey without shaming her. </span></p><p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Maybe you can do something like the lady
in Shafter who was known as the “cookie lady.” She loved to bake cookies and met kids walking home from school at the sidewalk in front of her house with
fresh-baked cookies on a regular basis. I have heard her funeral was full of
people who remembered her and were touched by her loving kindness. </span></p><p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Maybe you can be like the lady who was
experiencing loneliness after loss who went to the college campus in her
community and put notices on bulletin boards, offering free tea and
conversation to college kids. Her home became a safe haven for many who passed
through, sharing tea and gaining wisdom and comfort needed to navigate college
years. Maybe you could contact the college director or youth director and see
if they can connect you to young people who would benefit from knowing
you.</span></p><span style="font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Maybe you can do like the couple in this very
church who used to invite a group of young people over regularly for dinner and
board games. They built relationships with those young people and walked them
into adulthood, discipling them through friendship. They were viewed as bonus
grandparents by the young adults and every one of those adults would tell you today
that they learned valuable lessons about life from their evenings with them.
They are also using their wisdom in their marriages, in raising their kids, and
in the ministries in which they serve. </span><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; text-indent: -0.25in;">Maybe you can love by becoming a prayer
warrior like the woman in the movie War Room. You have the power to defeat the
enemy and his lies by praying Scriptures over yourself, over your family, over
your church, and over your friends. You have the
power to renounce the horrific lies being perpetrated by our culture on our
children, our grandchildren, and our great grandchildren. Your voices are
needed in the heavenly realms where your prayers will become sweet incense
around the throne of God, lasting long after you and I are gone from this earth. A friend told me her
mother and her mother-in-law decided to pray together every day. She said how blessed
she was, knowing these two ladies daily bathed her family in prayer. You can do
this in person or on the phone or facetime. A prayer partner can be a neighbor, someone in your church, or someone in your
family. Set a time and be consistent. Together you can move mountains and gain
a sense of being a part of something bigger than this physical world and your own
grief.</span><div>
<p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">As far as this age thing goes, you are never too old to
disciple, teach, serve, or love well. The pastor I had as a young wife
and a mom over 40 years ago was a middle-aged man
named Nap. He had a small church but had a huge impact on the kingdom of God. I
lost track of the number men and women who went to Dallas Seminary and/or
became missionaries, pastors, elders, evangelists, teachers and servants
because of his ministry. </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">In his
early years, Nap started a camp for children and teenagers called Ikthoos Christian
Camp. He continued to have camp year after year. Over time some of the younger
men came along side of him and began to shoulder responsibilities,
but Nap refused to retire and continued to go and serve in the camp well into
his eighties. The kids we knew as campers grew up to serve as counselors, teachers,
rec directors, and worship leaders at the camp and now their kids are beginning to join their ranks. </span></p><p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Every year
when camp is in session, they post pictures and videos for parents and those of
us who pray for them. A couple of years ago one of our friends posted a picture
of a feeble Nap preaching and sharing a diagram he had always used to make the
gospel crystal clear. His daughters who were there then walked their aged daddy
back to his room and told him good night for the last time as Napper died in
his sleep. How fitting that his last night on earth was doing what he most loved in a place he considered most sacred because it was filled with children. </span></p><p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Nap was
faithful until the end of his life and his life was not an easy life. No matter
what happened, he kept on doing what he knew
God called him to do. The next morning when the campers and counselors were in
chapel talking to the students about his death, our friend took a picture of
what her young daughter was drawing. It was the very diagram Nap had drawn on
the overhead the night before. But this time it had added something new. She had
drawn a little figure on the heaven part of the diagram and had added his name to
it. Her mama was glad she had listened and understood his last sermon and that
she was finding comfort in the truth he had presented in his last sermon. </span></p>
<p class="chapter-2" style="background: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="color: black;">Nap and
his gifts were essential to the family of God until the day He died. His wife
and his daughters finished out the week of camp, knowing Nap would
have wanted that. Just as Nap and his gifts were essential to the body of
Christ, so are you and your gifts.</span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> God loves you with
a radical, unending love. He has always seen you; He sees you now right in the
midst of what you are going through today, and He will continue to see and care
about you with what tomorrow brings. Don’t ever forget that each of you is essential t</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">o the Family of God!</span></p></div></div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-79856519061856507132022-12-05T16:20:00.002-08:002022-12-05T23:22:31.856-08:00At This Table<p>Early in life I developed an eating disorder that expressed itself in many ways. When I realized my dieting was becoming dangerous and my control was out of control, I decided to get help. When I met with my first counselor, my denial system was pretty strong, and I told him I didn't think my disorder was impacting my family. The counselor smiled and explained that if he were doing family counseling with us, the first things he would do is ask my children to draw the family dinner table. He then asked what I thought they would draw. After a long pause, I admitted that they would have drawn the table with my place either empty or with a drink only. I realized in that session the dinner table could be as much about interaction as it was about food. I soon became fascinated by Bible passages that dealt with food and meals.</p><span></span><span>I had struggled with shame because of my crazy relationship with food. I hated how often my thoughts were consumed with food, dieting, the number on the scale, or the dress size I was wearing. I was also ashamed that food itself was the source of my struggle. As I searched the Bible for answers, I realized the very first sin ever committed was centered around food and that Adam and Eve's choice to eat the fruit was more about what Satan promised than the fruit itself. I also realized Satan's temptation stirred in them a desire the fruit didn't fulfill, and they ended up miserable as they longed for their redemption to be complete. </span><br /><span></span><br /><span>I could relate to Adam and Eve as I turned to food, mistaking relational or spiritual hunger for physical hunger. <span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">At times I searched frantically for the perfect food to satisfy a craving I couldn't even identify or satisfy.</span> I could relate to them when I thought I would be happier if only I had something more--more pounds lost, <span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: black; display: inline; float: none; font-family: inherit; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">more power over life or broken relationships, more freedom from besetting sin, more peace in the face of my perfection and anxious thoughts. Oh, there were momentary feelings of the "more's satisfied," </span>only to awaken to the same cravings again and again. </span><div><br /></div><div>I heard a sermon taught by Louis Giglio, called don't give the enemy a seat at your table. He developed the sermon from Psalm 23 and talked about how God prepares us a table in the presence of our enemies and explained that we can choose to give the enemy a seat or we can focus on the Lord and dine with Him, while ignoring the enemy and his plans. I realized food has never been the enemy, but Satan was as he whispered temptation after temptation in my ear. I didn't have to give into his voice, tempting me to starve or binge. I could accept each meal as a gift and focus on the Giver. When I did that, eating no longer felt like a shameful act and I could eat with a grateful heart, praising God for His provision. I could even walk with Him through disordered thoughts and temptations and see God's strength in my weakness. <div><span><br /></span></div><div>A few years into my recovery I was in a freak accident that left me with a noticeable limp. Over time I came to terms with the limp by embracing the story of Mephibosheth who was Jonathon's son and Saul's grandson. It would have been customary for Jonathon to become king when Saul died, but God appointed David instead. David faithfully served Saul as he waited his turn, but Saul became consumed with jealousy over David's God-given abilities, future kingship, and David's victory over Goliath. In that state of jealous rage, he tried to kill David and David realized he needed to leave because the king viewed him as an enemy. This grieved Jonathon and David who were close friends. Jonathon helped David escape, and David vowed to show Jonathon and his family mercy when he became king.</div><div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When Saul and Jonathon were killed, Jonathon's son's nurse fled with the young boy. She fell, injuring both of his legs, leaving him crippled. After David established his kingdom, he called a servant to find out if anyone from Saul's house was alive to which he could show mercy. The servant told him about the young, crippled Mephibosheth and David sent for him. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I imagine Mephibosheth was filled with fear when he was called to face the king his grandfather had tried to kill, and he humbly bowed before King David. David told him not to be afraid because he had summoned him to show him mercy. Mephibosheth offered himself as a servant, but David gave him a seat at his own table, which meant that he considered Mephibosheth a son. David gave him land so his servants could work and provide all that he needed, which gave the crippled Mephibosheth back his dignity. </span></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"></span><br /></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Because of my limp, I love this story and the invitation to eat at the king's table. Each one of us is Mephibosheth. We were born enemies of God and have been crippled by sin that we have committed and by sin perpetrated against us. Since the fall we have been crippled by all sorts of trauma, causing us to be crippled in our ability to do good, to manage emotions, to discern truth from lies, to love well, and in our ability to worship and honor God. Yet, like Mephibosheth, we have been invited to the palace of the King of kings and we come...limping to God's table with nothing to offer, finding mercy in Jesus just as Mephibosheth found in David. </span></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There are times my ankle gets sore and stiff, and my limp becomes more pronounced. There are times that something happens to trigger feelings of past trauma and I find myself walking with an invisible "limp" that feels as awkward and uncomfortable as my physical one. There are times I experience stress and old eating disordered thoughts and I find myself "limping" awkwardly through the day barely holding on to what is healthy and good, and I know I can either get frustrated and give in or I can choose to remember Mephibosheth, who came to the king's table, and cling to the truth that I, who was once God's enemy, am now seated at His table, forever belonging to His family. I am also reminded that through His divine power He has given me everything I need for a godly life through the knowledge of Him who has called us out of His goodness. </span></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The music group Selah just released the most beautiful song for Christmas titled, "At this Table!" (</span><a href="https://www.amazon.com/music/player/albums/B0BGPV77K6?_encoding=UTF8&qid=&sr=">At This Table by Selah on Amazon Music - Amazon.com</a>) The song, written by Idina Menzer, has such powerful words and I<span style="font-family: inherit;"> have listened to several times this week. Each time I am filled with peace and stand in awe of God's infinite kindness. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">How I long for my table to reflect the table of this song--a table where everyone is welcome, everyone is seen, and everyone matters. A table where everyone is noticed, no one is judged, and everyone is free to speak. A place where everyone is forgiven, no one is </span>invisible,<span style="font-family: inherit;"> and everyone feels like they belong. </span></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope, as God's crippled children, we remember each one of us comes hobbling to the table and yet we are met with lavish mercy and grace that we did nothing to earn. I hope we try our best to extend that to others for at His table we are forever covered with a love shown through Christ's brutal death and resurrection. Maybe, just maybe this is the holiday season that we can reflect that to others.</span></div></div></div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-8331557691058045032022-10-03T15:03:00.000-07:002022-10-03T15:03:20.579-07:00Prodigals and Pharisees Come Home<p>I have always loved the Parable of the Prodigal Son. It simply starts out with "There was a man who had two sons." I remember mostly hearing the story with the focus on the younger prodigal son. But the story is about two sons and there are lessons to be learned from both. </p><p>The younger son approached his dad, asking for his portion of his inheritance so that he could leave. The oldest son in those day would be given a double portion, meaning the younger son would receive a third of his father's property. The father complied and the younger son packed up and left for a far away country where he squandered his money, spending it all on immoral, reckless living. He didn't make poor decisions or lose it in business deals, he simply wasted it on things he thought would bring him fleshly pleasure. As a result, he experienced poverty for the first time. Soon a famine hit the land making it impossible to get food. He eventually got a job feeding pigs, which would have been a shameful position as a Jew. It was a stinky dirty job that seemed to reflect his spiritual state. </p><div align="left">As food became more scarce, he experienced gnawing hunger and began to eat the slop he fed the pigs. I can't help but wonder if it was then that he began to miss the lovingkindness of his dad who so faithfully met his needs. Could it be that rebellion tends to lead people away from what their hearts most want? In the midst of slurping down slop not fit for humans, he realized his father's servants were eating better than him. So, he headed home, rehearsing the confession he would make, hoping to be hired as a servant. Little did he know his father was constantly scanning the horizon, hoping to see him. And when he spotted his son, the father ran which was something dignified men didn't do. The father grabbed his son and held him in a tight embrace. When I think of that scene, I think of what my son smelled like when he came home from the pig barns with the stench of pig wafting across the room. The love of that father entered into the messy, stinky life of his son. </div><div align="left"> </div><div align="left">I can so relate to the younger son. The Word tells me while I was still in my sin, Christ loved me and died for me. That means God loved me with the stench of my sin still on me--the stench of pride, of lust, of selfishness, of self-centeredness, of an independent heart that often chose to quietly do life apart from Him, and of trying to fill this God-craving hunger with worldly things. Yeah, I can relate to him. I wish I couldn't, but I can. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">In response to the son's confession, the father calls his servants to bring a robe, a ring, and shoes. These are not the clothes of a servant, they are the clothing of a chosen son! He has servants prepare a banquet to celebrate the son who was lost , but no has been found, the son who was dead, but who is now relationally alive. This father reflects Our Abba! Some of us for a variety of reasons walked away from God and His fold after having made declarations of faith. Maybe we were wounded by legalism or by people in the church. Maybe we simply rebelled, wanting something more. Maybe we slipped so gradually into sin that shame sent us running from God and His people lest they find out. We may at some time have believed the stench of what we have done could never be cleaned. But this parable tells us the Abba is always scanning the horizon for prodigals and He runs at the first sight of their return. And no matter how deeply the stench has been ground into our pours, God embraces us and clothes us in the clothes of His chosen. God knows we must come to the end of ourselves to recognize Him as the perfect Redeemer, Restorer, Reconciler, Healer, our Satisfaction, and Father. </div><div align="left"><br /></div><div align="left">The other brother who came in from the fields to see the celebration taking place. A servant informed him that the celebration was in honor of the prodigal who had came home. The older son became angry and refused to go in. The first time I read this parable, I thought his anger was a protective anger toward his father who had been hurt by the child that left home in a manor that stated he considered his father dead to him. But when the father came out and talked to the older son, we see the state of the older son's heart. He was angry because the son who left and squandered the inheritance in an immoral lifestyle was being celebrated and while he who had remained wasn't. </div><br />The older son's attitude makes me uncomfortable, because I see me in him and can relate to his judgments. I wish didn't but I do. There have been times I've worked hard and was not noticed, only to have someone new come along and get praised for one project. I resented it a lot. I also used to pride myself on being nonjudgmental, but a sweet lady once told told me that we all make judgments every da and sometimes judgments help us make good decisions and sometimes they are sinful. <div><br /></div><div>I was uncomfortable with her statement, so I paid close attention to the thoughts that ran through my head for a few weeks and she was right. I made judgments about food as I classified it as either good or bad instead of thanking God for His provision. I made judgments about the hearts and the worth of others based on the clothing they wore. I judged myself harshly for having normal feelings and being human instead of perfect. I judged a parent by how she handled her kids in public and was convicted because at one time I was a mom of five littles and knew they could be perfectly behaved one day and then the next day I was red-faced, paying for chocolate bar snatched by little hands when I wasn't looking, I judged a homeless person without knowing his story, not even giving him the dignity of a smile or eye contact every human craves. I judged someone's words without letting them finish their thoughts, something I hate when its done to me. It grieved my heart to find there was a whole lot more Pharisee in me than I thought. But facing this truth humbled me and helped me come to grips with the truth that not all prodigals run physically, some of us run even in the staying. It helped me realize how desperately we (me in particular) need God's mercy and grace. <br /><br />I also realized I often chose churches because people in them looked like me. Around the time I had the above conversation with my friend, a therapist suggested I find a support group for eating disorders and there wasn't one in my community. She referred me to a ministry for those struggling with addictions and codependency. When I first walked in, judgments were screaming in my head. I wanted to run, but didn't. There I heard stories that melted my prideful heart, allowing God to fill it with compassion and love. There I saw hardened hearts softened and people extending grace while holding each other accountable in such a beautifully balanced ways. I shared my story one night and there were sniffles, the loudest being among the biggest burliest guys, who had originally scared me. I grew to love them because they were so honest, transparent, and hungry for God.<br /><br />There I realized the years I had spent in church, I had been trying to earn God's love and to cover up my sinful parts and my judgmental heart. I loved the recovery group because it was there I realized God's love was freely given. There was nothing I could do to earn it and nothing I could do to lose it. The fleshly business of trying to earn love was put to death. I also bumped into a friend there who introduced me to her sister, who was covered in tattoos. At first I judged her, but over time I came to love this gal and her big heart and even got a small tatt to remind myself not to judge. <br /><br />When this gal passed away. Her funeral was exactly what I have come to desire all churches to be, and what I imagine heaven already is--a mixture of people from all walks of life. A place where addicts sit next to the "church people who appear to have it all together." A place where the poor are seated among the rich. A place where the tattooed are sprinkled among the conservatively dressed. A place where those with nose rings and piercings are scattered among those with traditional jewelry. A place where the wounded are actually tended to, a place where the vulnerable find safety, a place where differences are celebrated, and a place where every prodigal is restored and rejoiced over. At that crowded funeral filled with prodigals we had one thing in common, our friend and when a song was sung all of our eyes were leaking for the one who had overcome big, big stuff and who had loved so big. To me, the people at her funeral represent the death of the conflict between prodigals and pharisaical siblings. </div><div><br /></div><div>For me, moving past judgment took my recognizing my own desire to be loved, acknowledged, and accepted was something written on my heart by my Creator and then accepting that God Himself has lavishly and consistently met those needs through Christ! When I rest in this truth I don't tend to wander like the prodigal or sit in judgment like the Pharisaical brother, Instead, I am free to relate to the One who fills my heart with all it needs so I can celebrate those around me. </div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-67163503524195284152022-07-19T13:43:00.002-07:002022-07-19T13:43:58.494-07:00From Fear to Faith<p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> In 2012 one of the pastors who had a huge impact on my life passed away. I wrote a note on Facebook called "From Fear to Faith" and thought I would edit it and share it here as we are living in times in which fear covered in anger is rampant. I hope that may someone struggling with fear might be comforted and find courage and peace in Jesus, just as I did. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">In January of 1977 my husband and I moved to Mississippi so he could get his doctorate from State. Oh, we were young and moving across the country while I was pregnant with our first child. The night we arrived in Starkville, it was freezing cold, and I was very sick with a kidney infection. We followed the hospital signs to get to the emergency room. The doctor kept me in the hospital for several days, leaving my husband to unpack the U-Haul. A guy he had met at a conference happened to drive and see Joel unloading the trailer. He </span></span><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">stopped and</span></span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> helped him and then invited him to dinner with some guys from his church. He got there and met their pastor, who was nicknamed Nap. For a year, we attended another church that had more young student couples and forged some great friendships, but after a year most of them were finished school and left. One of the men we knew told us that because I had such a thirst for Bible knowledge that Emmanuel Baptist Church would help me find the answers to the questions I had. We to the little Baptist Church, where Nap taught verse by verse at least four times a week and stayed there for seven years.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> When we first attended, I was very fearful, but if anyone would have asked if I was a believer I would have said yes. Maybe I was a believer, but if I was a believer, I was a terrified one. Every time I sinned or even thought I might have sinned, I confessed over and over and asked Jesus into my heart again and again and again. Right after we married, we had heard some preaching on the Book of </span></span><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Revelation,</span></span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and I woke up several times crying from nightmares about end times. When I arrived at Emmanuel, I was still fearful and trying desperately to be good, thinking I could earn God's love and bet to heaven. </span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">About the time I began to relax and enjoy our new church, Nap announced he would begin a series on the book of Revelation. I was struggling with my parent's divorce so I went in to talk to him about that and during that conversation I also told him about my fear of the Book of the Revelation and told him I wasn't sure I could handle the series. He suggested I read the little book, Come Lord, Jesus by Mark G. Cambron and then come talk to him. I began to see the grace of God in that little book on Revelation and how it matched what Nap was preaching on Sundays. We met many times and talked about the gospel and eternal security and a bunch about the love of God. Over time, I realized I believed what God said in His Word and that Christ's payment for sin was enough to secure my salvation. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I fell in love with Jesus during the time I spent at that church. I hungered and thirsted to know everything about Him and had to have driven Nap crazy with questions, but he was patient and loving and kind to this needy young believer. I loved his bear hugs as they were tight and purely given. I loved his love of the Savior. It never ever waned, no matter what came his way. I loved his love of God's grace and a pure gospel. I loved his style of teaching and answering the questions I and many others had, because his answers were never his thoughts or opinions, they were straight from the Word! I loved the consistency of his teaching; the truth never changing as he moved from book to book...it was always grace. </span></span><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">And</span></span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> h</span></span></span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">e lived out that grace even in the mundane parts of his life. He fiercely protected the flock with which God had </span></span><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">entrusted</span></span><span style="color: #050505; font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> him. His heart grieved as many of his flock were moved to other parts of the world, but he still considered us a part of his Emmanual family. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I remember one time he was preaching on the persecuted </span></span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">church,</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> I went up to him afterward and told him, "Nap, I don't have to worry about anyone persecuting me, because I always </span></span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">prostitute</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> myself." He responded with, "I know, Babe!" but his eyes were </span></span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">twinkling</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;"> like </span></span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">crazy. So, </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I quickly thought through what I had just said and got embarrassed. I screamed, "NO!" and he chuckled and said, "I didn't think you meant what you said." </span></span></span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #050505; font-family: inherit; letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I typed the bulletin for several years and I often made him special bulletins with funny announcements he could not read to the church. But I knew he saw them when he came out with twinkle in his eye and a great big smile on his face. </span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">The last week I lived in Starkville, I went by to see him one last time and I asked him some hard questions I had never voiced before about God's sovereignty over things like abuse. There were no glib answers give, but as I turned to leave, he called my name and I turned around, "Wendy, God is Good! Don't ever forget He is Good!" And I heard his voice say those same words over and over in my head when I went into counseling to recover from the pain in my past! Nap also listened to my pain when my best friend lost her babies then again when I lost her. I loved the sound of his voice when he taught. It was a slow southern drawl that calmed my anxious heart after someone broke into our home and comforted us as a church when we buried our loved ones. </span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">One more thing I loved about Nap was that He never said things like, "Jesus, is coming back, you better get ready." He simply lived His life always excitedly looking for our Jesus to </span></span><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">return</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">. He was faithful until the very end. Nap was at a camp preaching and sharing the gospel and passed away later in the evening. That very night I was in a worship service, here in California and we sang one of his favorite songs, "Nothing but the Blood of Jesus" and my heart was full of joy as it reminded me of Nap and his impact on my faith, not realizing our gracious God was orchestrating that moment in my life at the time He was welcoming him home. I love that Jesus has riches to share with His faithful servant that bore so much fruit in His life. </span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #050505;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="letter-spacing: -0.41px; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have lived in California with a contentment that is still slightly overshadowed by a homesickness for people who had become a loving spiritual family for this homesick, pregnant, scared wife. This last week I have seen a lot of pictures from Ikthoos, the Camp Nap and others started. The kids who were little campers when we lived there are all adults who are faithfully filling his footsteps as they love kids and teach them how to study the Word to lift their beautiful voices in praise. </span></span></span></span></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-27516786918837508332022-05-31T18:13:00.003-07:002022-06-02T08:53:27.565-07:00Still Showing up Differently<p><span style="font-family: inherit;">I recently read
the testimony of a man who was talking about his struggle with addiction. He said
he began his recovery the day he chose to show up differently in the world. The
words, “I chose to show up differently” deeply resonated with me when I first heard
them. That was because God had used several events to awaken deeply buried pain
caused by unresolved traumas I had experienced earlier in life.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">For years I had
masked pain from the traumas in different ways. I masked it with an eating
disorder that led me to sway between severe anorexia to compulsive eating. I
masked the shame I experienced over the traumas with a hyper-critical spirit
that served o focus others’ eyes away from the messiness of my life and soul
that could have potentially bubbled over at any given moment. Third. I masked
the fear of being hurt again with self-protective behaviors like defensiveness,
obsessing over real or imagined offenses, shutting down, or completely withdrawing.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">During an anorexic
phase of my disorder, I went to get a haircut and when the stylist finished
washing my hair, my neck muscles were so weak I couldn’t lift my head without
using my hands. The weakness jolted me into seeing my health was in jeapordy.
As I struggled, I also realized I was tired of living a life centered around
diets, exercise, and self-contempt. Friends and my church community didn’t know
how to help, so I made the brave decision in the face of the fear I was
experiencing to seek Christian counseling when it wasn’t a widely accepted
thing to do. Essentially, I was choosing to start showing up differently in my
world. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I entered
counseling, thinking there would be a quick fix. Maybe it would be the sharing of
the trauma that would set me free from the pain it caused. Maybe it would be
the confession of the severe self-contempt with which I was struggling that
would set me free. Maybe it would the acknowledgement of just how out of
control my disorder was as I was seeking control over my life, my emotions, and
my body. Maybe it would be the tears I eventually shed as I grieved the losses caused
by the trauma and the poor decisions that I had made in response to it. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Looking
back, I now realize I was looking for a magical decision like the decision to
show up differently to be the “cure all.” The “cure all” would be whatever
would helped me become like a person who had never been traumatized and who had
never developed an eating disorder. Over the course of my healing journey, I
grew to accept and then grew to embrace the truth that my recovery wasn’t about
a one-time decision to just show up differently in my world. I would have to
make the same decisions over and over on a daily, hourly, and sometimes moment
by moment basis. I will share a few of the decisions I have made. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I chose to talk honestly with my therapist about the different
traumas I had experienced as a child, as a teen, and as an adult, facing and
accepting the real story I had been living. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently every week when I was willing to grieve the life that I had
been wishing I had had instead of the one from which I was recovering. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I decided to face the truth of how serious the
disorder was and agreed to work with a doctor and a dietician to get my health
back. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I agreed to experience and sit in the pain that I had
buried instead of numbing it with eating disordered behaviors. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently every week when I participated in groups with others who
had experienced similar traumas and eating disorders instead of isolating. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I revealed to my therapist the depth of the self-contempt
I was experiencing and began to choose daily to believe I truly am who God says
I am. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I began to use my voice in relationships by asking directly
for what I needed, desired, or preferred and allowing others the freedom to
honor the requests or not. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to show
up differently when I quit trying to control everything and everyone around me through
co-dependent tendencies that I used to calm anxiety. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I began to explore and embrace emotions God created me
to feel and to manage them by identifying and changing cognitive distortions. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I had a dream in which every woman that I passed had
no mouth and dead eyes and woke up begging God to give women their voices and wrote
books to help others. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I began to ask the Lord in faith, to show me where He
was in all that I had experienced and began to see how truly beautiful and good
God was and is in the midst of the ugly horrific things experienced. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I began to rest in God’s love instead of trying to earn
the love that He had already sacrificially given to me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I realized I had been trying to elicit love from other
broken people who didn’t know how to love well and began to focus more on how I
can love well by letting Jesus’s love flow through me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I chose to
show up differently when I acknowledged the hard all around us every day and
chose to believe our God is bigger than the biggest mountain put in front of
me, His love stronger than the vilest hate swirling around us, and His spilt blood
is deeper than the sin I commit. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">To be
honest, this list is not exhaustive and is comprised of things that I have to
choose repeatedly day after day, moment after moment so that I can show up
differently, hoping to reflect the heart and the character of my God rather
than a wounded broken human. I remember getting angry when I realized there was
no quick or permanent fix. That anger makes me smile now because I know it is in
my weaknesses and in the having to choose again and again to show up
differently that I have come to experience God’s love and strength the most. </span><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-59093619265209759532022-03-08T11:53:00.003-08:002022-03-08T11:54:47.353-08:00Desperate Places Revisisted<p>As I have been watching the war in Ukraine unfold, I was reminded of a post I wrote about desperate places. I wrote it after one of our pastors preached a sermon on John 4:46-54. This is an account of an official who was so desperate to save his son's life that he walked a marathon to beg Jesus to come and heal him. Pastor Matt described the man as being in a desperate place--as we watch news stories about the people leaving Ukraine, sheltering in place, and fighting in the war, we can see that they are definitely people living in desperate places. Desperate places simply defined are the places where life, as we once knew it, has been turned upside down. The very places we sometimes find ourselves feeling like we are at the end of the proverbial rope, shocked, powerless, and unsteady. It is the place we know only our God can help. </p><p>I shared about a few of the desperate places I've been in. One of them being the day I turned ten. My family was planning on celebrating my birthday, but an unexpected phone call radically changed our plans. My mom's aunt, with whom we were close, had a serious stroke and was in intensive care in another town. Our celebration turned into several intense weeks as we traveled to the hospital that she was in. Because they did not let children visit patients, my siblings and I sat in the car or in the lobby waiting while my parents and grandmother visited my aunt and uncle. The first night we went, my uncle came downstairs to visit with us kids and he cried. It was the first time I had seen him cry and his emotional pain scared me. And each time the phone rang at our house, my mom feared the worst and ran to answer it, choking back sobs before she even answered the phone. </p><p>I experienced powerlessness as I watched the adults ride an emotional roller coaster full of ups and downs and scary turns. As a ten-year-old, I couldn't do anything to make my aunt get well and I couldn't do anything to take the pain away the adults were experiencing. All I could do was pray the simple prayers of a ten-year-old heart. I don't remember the prayers, but I do remember wanting her well and for things to be like they were before she got sick. I also remember desperately wanting God. I remember peace flowing through me as He met me in the fear of possible loss, the anxiety of seeing my caretakers hurting, and in my admitting couldn't fix it all. </p>The second desperate place that came to mind was when our son had an ATV accident. I met him at the hospital, and we were told his collar bone was broken in several places. He had told the triage nurse he felt like he was bleeding inside, and she noted it in his chart. However, the ER doctor dismissed it as radiating pain from his collar bone. They sent us home and several days later he came out of his room gray. This time an ER doctor discovered his ruptured spleen and his belly filled with blood. When they wheeled him away, we assured him we would see him when he woke up, secretly fearing the worst. I was desperate and knew there was nothing I could do to guarantee the outcome I wanted. I was drawn to God and afraid of Him at the same time as He had the power to heal him but might choose not to. I was too tied up in knots too pray eloquent prayers, but felt His presence growing bigger, reminding me He was with us. There were complications and the stay in ICU stretched to 12 days and the regular hospital floor another 4. I showered and walked during the nurses' shift changes. In the shower tears flowed and on walks the prayers flowed directly from my heart to God's and He was near. <div><br />The third desperate place was when my daughter-in-law was put in the hospital on bed rest during her pregnancy. She and my son were on the other side of the country, making daily decisions that no parents should ever have to make to get their child here safely. As my son kept me posted, I felt the same feelings of powerlessness I had felt as a child. All I could do was listen and tell him I was available anytime he needed me. I daily poured out my heart to God, telling Him everything I longed for in regard to my kids and their daughter. And God met me there in the middle of passionate prayers. We were at the beach when my son called with the news that they had no more choices left, but to deliver our granddaughter. She was three months early and a very sick little baby. Our son's voice was solemn as he gave us the news. My heart ached for them and I stayed up all night praying, asking God to intervene and let her live. Our son called back the next morning and said the x-rays that morning showed no sign of the infection that was there the night before. There was hope even though the next couple of months were critical for her. Our granddaughter was a fighter and held on and was soon thriving. <br /><br />When I watch the news, and see people fleeing, fathers saying goodbye to their families as they stay to fight, and the bombs being dropped, the desperate place over there seems so big for those people. Even though my desperate places haven't been as big in scale, I wonder if the lessons I learned might still speak some hope into their hearts. I learned that God can always be found in desperate places, but to find Him we must choose to lean into Him through radically honest prayers. I learned that desperate places were fertile soil for faith to grow exponentially as those places bring us face to face with what we believe about ourselves and what we believe about our God. <div><br /></div><div>I also learned there is a very real Enemy and if we don't continuously pray, he preys on us, trying to convince us that desperate places prove God doesn't love us. But the truth is that deep intimacy with God happens as we lean into Him in the hard, praising Him for who He is and what He has done, what He is doing, and what He will do in the future. I learned that faith is purified in the hard as it brings us face to face with our human limitations against the backdrop of His pure character and His powerful attributes. I learned desperate places purify our hearts as we have to decide if we really want Jesus or if we just want His benefits. I learned desperate places expose our tendency to make idols out of the things we desperately want and that idolatry is broken when we are put in a place we have to give the desires of our hearts to the Lord.<br /><br />When I think of desperate places of course the Ukranian people come to mind, but so do many others--people who have stood over child sized coffins weeping, people who have dealt with cancer that came in its ugliest forms, people who have suffered through horrendous abuses whose cries went unheard, people whose lives were turned upside down by someone's decision to drink and drive, people who watched their hometowns burn to the ground, people who watched homes being swept away by floods, and people who were suddenly laid off, wondering how they could feed their families in the face of a pandemic. I also think of people who are currently living long in desperate places--people with debilitating pain of chronic illnesses no one can see, people watching as their loved ones’ minds slip away, others watching loved ones with sharp minds whose bodies begin to cease functioning, those living with infertility and unfulfilled longings, and those who suffer in the aftermath of mass shootings with PTSD and flashbacks they cannot control. Did they lean into Jesus and find hope? </div><div><br />I also thought of those who will find themselves in desperate places this next year. Maybe they will be parents who will get that call from their soldier's commander because he won't be coming home because he or she sacrificed their life on the battlefield. Maybe it will be the woman whose doctor calls to say she has joined the community of those fighting cancer. Maybe it will be the parents of a student gone missing. Maybe it will be the businessman whose auditor tells him the only way out of debt is bankruptcy. Maybe it will be the couple whose marriage begins to crumble under the weight of betrayal, untreated mental illness, or self-destructive addictions. Will they lean into Jesus or will run from the very One who wants to minister to their heart? Will they see His infinite goodness, or will they believe the lies the enemy speaks? I am praying for them because I know that as much as I care, we have a Savior who cares infinitely more, longing to reveal Himself to them in ways they can't even imagine. Will they let Him instill hope into the desperate places?</div></div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-40233385016494097522022-02-01T14:47:00.000-08:002022-02-01T14:47:15.404-08:00A Man Named Joseph Our church has been going through Genesis and recently covered the story of Joseph. Even though I have written about him before, I thought I would revisit his story. Joseph's father was Jacob and his family, well they were one big hot mess. To start with Jacob had fallen in love with a woman and worked seven years to marry her. But his father-in-law substituted his older daughter for the bride Jacob had worked so hard for. So, Jacob had to work another seven years for the one he loved and ended up with two wives. For several years the loved wife was barren while the unloved wife was birthing sons. Eventually there were twelve sons in all--two from the loved one and 10 from the unloved one and the concubines the wives had given Jacob, each hoping to increase their family size in an effort to find favor with Jacob. <div><br />So, our man Joseph grew up in a family with two mother figures vying for his dad's affection. And his dad was a man who made some pretty serious parenting mistakes. First, he loved Joseph more than his other sons and he gifted him with a colorful coat, conveying his favoritism to the whole family of boys who were all longing for their father's favor. Second, when Jacob sent his older sons out to tend sheep, he sent Joseph out to check on them and the reports he gave Jacob were not always favorable. Needless to say, the brothers didn't grow any fonder of the tattle tale. <br /><br />Then there was a matter of dreams. God gave Joseph dreams that indicated his brothers would all bow in submission to him. Being 17, he did what teens would do--he bragged to the fam. In the midst of a family with two wives competing, a dad with rotten parenting skills, a son prone to bragging, and slew of sinful natures begam smoldering as they longed for their father's favor. The sibling rivalry grew into a great big, ugly hatred. <br /><br />After the coat giving, the dream bragging, and the hatred growing, Jacob sent Joseph once again to check on his brothers. When they saw him coming, they plotted to kill him and planned to tell their dad he had been killed by an animal. But one brother with a smidgen of integrity left suggested they throw Joseph in a cistern instead. When Joseph arrived, they stripped him of his identity as the favored one by stealing his coat. They threw him into a pit and calmly sat down to eat, which showed just how hard their hearts had become and how deeply rooted their hatred for Joseph was. By getting rid of him, they believed they might get what they craved the most--Jacob's favor. When a caravan traveling to Egypt came near, they pulled Joseph from the pit and sold him as a slave. They then showed his bloodied coat to their dad and Jacob grieved the deep grief parents grieve when they lose a child they love. <br /><br />That seems like enough hurt for one person to go through for a lifetime. But there was more suffering in the story God penned for Joseph to live. Joseph was bought by Potiphar and Potiphar realized God was with Joseph and put him over his whole house. Then Potiphar's wife tried to seduce Joseph, and he ran away as she grabbed his outer garment. Angered by Joseph's rejection, she claimed Joseph had attacked her and the lie she told landed Joseph in prison. </div><div><br /></div><div>Joseph rose to leadership within the prison population and despite his own circumstances he ruled with integrity over other prisoners. Two prisoners dreamed dreams that Joseph interpreted. One was released and promised to remember Joseph, but he did not and the other lost his life. It was not until Pharaoh dreamed dreams that no one in Egypt could interpret that Joseph was remembered by the freed prisoner. He told the Pharoah about Joseph and Joseph was summoned to interpret the dream that revealed seven years of plenty would be followed by seven years of famine. Pharaoh made Joseph a ruler and told him to prepare Egypt for the famine and he did.<br /><br />As I read, I wished the story were written by a woman because a woman would have told us what Joseph thought and what he felt. But initially the story makes Joseph seem almost superhuman. At first, we aren't told about the grief Joseph experienced and I wondered if it was because his grief was overshadowed by his need to survive. We also aren't told about the anger that would kindle in his human heart that had been betrayed by his own flesh and blood, the anger fueled by being falsely accused of rape and imprisoned, and the anger added by being forgotten and left in prison. Maybe he was in denial of the pain he felt or maybe he was doing his best to stay focused on the steadfast love of God and His blessings that were poured out on him in each circumstance he faced. </div><div><br /></div><div>Just like us, Joseph had choices to make. He could put his eyes on the injustices he had experienced and the suffering he had endured, or He could put them on God who was at work in His life. He could choose to focus on the people who did him wrong and grow a hatred in his own heart or he could focus on the God who was blessing him in a foreign land. He could choose to lie in bed at night and plot the revenge his brothers deserved or allow God to work in their hearts as He filled him with peace and grace. He could focus on the mistakes his dad made, showing favoritism and asking him to tattle or he could choose to forgive. He could focus on his dream-bragging ways and hate himself or he could focus on God's grace and the dreams that He let him interpret and grow humility that dissipated the pride that had once dwelled in his young heart. <br /><br />We eventually do get a glimpse of the pain Joseph endured. During the famine his hungry brothers came knocking on his door to buy grain. He recognized them, but they did not know it was him. Joseph devised a plan to get them to bring his youngest brother to him. When they returned, he invited them to a feast. When Joseph saw Benjamin, he was overcome by emotion that he ran from the room to weep. When he decided to tell his brothers, he was so overcome with emotion that he wept so loud the whole household of pharaoh heard him. He revealed his identity and his brothers returned home to bring their dad and their families to live in Egypt under Joseph's rule. Joseph extended them grace, telling them what they meant for evil, God meant for good. <br /><br />There are several things we can take from Joseph's story. First, God's plans will not be thwarted by man's schemes. The brothers did end up bowing to the very brother they sold. A modern story that also reflects this same truth is the Jim Elliot and Steve Saint story. God sent them to people as His witness and the people murdered them. But God wanted these people's hearts, and He sent their wives and their families back to the tribes and used them and their grace to win the people's hearts. That abuser. That user. That slanderer. That betrayer. That murderer. They cannot stop God's plans.<br /><br />Second, no matter what circumstances we find ourselves in God is a God who blesses. God blessed Joseph in Egypt. He blessed him in Potiphar's house. He blessed him in prison. When we take our eyes off of our circumstances, off those who wrong us, off those who hate us, off of the disease we have, off the broken relationship that pains us so much, off the jobs we unfairly lost, and put them on God we will be able to see God's blessings, too. <br /><br />Third, God may take us to some places we don't want to go, so He can bless people as He blesses us. Potiphar was blessed. The jailor was blessed. Joseph's family was blessed--all because God blessed Joseph. My friend Mary Esther was taken through a cancer battle with her two-year-old son and she kept her eyes on Jesus and experienced His blessings daily. As they sat with their son after surgery and through chemo, the medical staff, their friends, their church family also experienced the blessings with which God was blessing them. In addition, someone gave her a journaling Bible and she shares the pictures she began drawing during that dark time of their lives and her journaling has gone viral. More and more people are being blessed by their story. Just as Joseph's trust in God saved people, her trust is showing people the way they can be saved. <br /><br />Fourth, there is nothing wrong with grieving losses and expressing pain. Joseph held his pain close until he could contain it no more. I believe God brought those brothers at just the right time to force Joseph to face the facts of what had been done to Him. And it was then that he grieved long and hard right in front of his brothers. I have a hunch his pain did a lot more convicting than his anger could have ever done. His pain, the grief their father experienced, and their fear of retaliation may well have been the chisels God used to soften the stone-cold hearts of his brothers. <br /><br />Finally, there is no offense so big that a heart in the hand of God can't forgive it. Joseph was hated. Joseph was thrown into a pit. Joseph was stripped of his identity. Joseph was taken from the pit to be sold as a slave. Joseph was taken to a foreign land where he was falsely accused of rape, cast into prison, and forgotten by someone he had helped. Yet, he worked hard, rose to power, and saved lives, including his own family which was the blood line of Jesus.<br /><p>Suffering well allows God to do his work in us, in our families, in our church, in our community, and even in our nation. Suffering well allows us to experience God's love and blessing even in the hard. Suffering well allows us to see how God works in and through us. Suffering well produces patience, which produces endurance, which produces hope. I want to be like the man named Joseph, who learned to walk humbly with his God whose favor mattered the most. </p></div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-63691781557285843822021-12-13T16:55:00.002-08:002021-12-13T16:55:37.580-08:00Christmas Hope for Anxious Hearts Revisited<p> <i style="font-family: inherit;"><b>"Humble yourselves, therefore, </b></i><i style="font-family: inherit;"><b>under the mighty hand of God </b></i><i style="font-family: inherit;"><b>so that at the proper time He may exalt you, </b></i><i style="font-family: inherit;"><b>casting all your anxieties on Him </b></i><i style="font-family: inherit;"><b>because He cares for you." (</b></i><span style="font-family: inherit;"><b style="font-style: italic;">1 Peter 4:6-7) This </b>is one of my favorite verses even though I realize it often gets misused to shame anxious hearted people. With the holidays and covid looming in the background anxiety is increasing. So, today I am revisiting this post first published in 2020 on the topic of anxiety, hoping to speak encouragement into anxious hearts. </span></p><span>As I have shared in the past, a few years ago we were given a small maltipoo from our kids who moved oversees. Harley is a well-trained dog, who believes she's human. She was pretty anxious when she was dropped off. But at the time I had a viral infection that caused extreme fatigue, which meant she could spend the better part of a year sitting in my lap. This helped her attach to me, my husband, and a son who was staying with us at the time. Then movers came and once again she watched stuff get carried out the door and another person disappeared from her life as our son moved away. She once again grew anxious and wanted to be in someone's lap 24/7.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>When I put her down to clean house, she followed me from room to room and there were times I sat down with her and could feel her trembling, which is what she does when she thinks we are about to leave the house without her. Her anxiety still grieves my heart because she gets so anxious anticipating a possible abandonment that she doesn't enjoy the great amount of time she spends on my lap. In watching her, I realized I had a lot in common with her as I spent many years living with the same type of anticipatory anxiety that prevented me from fully enjoying my relationship with God. </span><div><span><br /></span><span>Let'</span>s be honest, anxiety is an experience common to us all. This is especially true during the holiday season, especially with Covid 19 numbers rising again. In the past rising numbers caused lockdowns, which has means we had to isolate more, increasing loneliness, depression, and anxiety. There is anxiety in the face of rising numbers and no lockdowns as we fear spreading it. There is still anxiety as people face job loss, devastating storms, closing businesses, and evictions right before the holidays. There is anxiety for those who are in the workforce who know they might be exposed to Covid and carry it home. </div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>There is also anxiety caused by biased newscasters and social media where key-board warriors spew hate-filled words. There is a higher threat of violence in my neck of the woods and a homeless population who step out into the roads in dark clothing at night. There is anxiety for those who have family members working in law enforcement who know spouses, parents or grandparents on the force may be targeted by violence for wearing a uniform. </span></div><div><span> </span></div><div>There is also anxiety that comes from wanting to have perfect Christmases with perfect gifts and perfect responses to the gifts we're given. There is anxiety in anticipating family dysfunction and family drama that can erupt when people with unresolved baggage come together. For believers, anxiety often leads to toxic shame as we tend to believe we aren't supposed to experience anxiousness. Yet, we do. We may try to either deny or hide it. When we do this, we are choosing to live a lie. It is more honest to acknowledge the hard that comes from living in a fallen world. </div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>Believers experience anxiety for many reasons. First, </span><span>we live in a fallen world and may have experienced painful or traumatic events. A normal healthy response to early trauma includes anxiety. Think of a child who experiences trauma at a young age who doesn't have the mental or emotional capacity to process it. Their body responds as it is designed to respond--surging chemicals flood their little systems and they flee, freeze, fight, or play dead to stay safe. Because they are too young to know how to use effectively use that energy, the anxiety of the experience gets imprinted in such a way it recurs when it gets triggered by things the mind remembers subconsciously through a smell, a sound, a season, holiday lights, etc. As they experience triggers as an adult their anxiety rises of its own accord. </span></div><div><span><br /></span><span>There are also anxiety-provoking things going on in the here and now. I think of those diagnosed with cancer. These people face mortality daily in ways most of us don't. They face difficult decisions about therapies that can potentially poison their bodies as they kill the cancer. They also face soaring medical bills and do battle with insurance companies who refuse to pay. Anxiety can also come from not being sure one can tolerate chemo, from wondering if their faith is strong enough to endure the illness and its painful treatments, and from wondering if they will suffer well and be a light to others or be able to sense God and His love, knowing full well that He can heal, but may choose not to. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>There is compounded anxiety when families deal with sick children during holidays. I follow the posts of mom's whose children were born with heart defects. A little girl named Charlie was born with half a heart and has gone through several open-heart surgeries. The road they travel is long and death will always be a very real possibility. They walk closely with God and the song they sing over her continually declares yes to God's will and yes to His ways. But there is anxiety to be reckoned with when Charlie faces the possibility of new surgeries or life-threatening bumps in the journey and fights to survive with half a heart that loves big. </span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>The other child is sweet Caleb who has already been given a new heart. But the new heart didn't stop the anxiety for his parents when drugs preventing rejection left his immune system compromised and vulnerable to both blood and eye cancers with which he's battled brave. I know his sweet mama personally and am a part of her tribe. I know she is experiencing even more anxiety this year with Covid numbers rising. She makes healthy choices for her child and trusts God in ways I can't even imagine. </span></div><div><span><br /></span><span>There is a lot of anxiety felt in families who have someone struggling with addictions, which often raise their ugly heads in holidays. Each person walks on eggshells, fearful they will say or do something that will cause a relapse...and the drinking, the drug use, or visits to porn sites will start up, leaving the house in chaos as wounding behaviors follow in the aftermath. There is also anxiety for the addict because holiday stress can trigger them and if they do not work their program they may drink, snort, shoot up, or return to the darkness of his or her infidelity through internet porn--the fixes that leave a family open to dark spiritual influences that can pass to future generations.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>There is anxiety in families in which mental illness dwells. Will this be the holiday depression gives way to suicide? Will mom, dad, or siblings be calm and happy, agitated and angry, depressed and unavailable, or on a mania high or a catatonic slow state? Will the fear instilled by the paranoid come to fruition? All the while the children are left trying to figure out if there is something they did to cause the confusing behaviors of those they love or if there is something they can do to bring stability to the instability--a responsibility way too big for little shoulders, birthing a debilitating storm of anxiety in a child's soul. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>There is anxiety in homes where marriages are broken as family members wonder if the next mistake made, the next thoughtless word spoken, the next problem experienced with the kids, the next financial setback might be the final trigger that ends the marriage, fracturing a family into two hurting pieces. Anxiety also comes to the children overhearing arguments and assuming responsibility to smooth things over so neither mom or dad leave. There is anxiety in kids whose families have already split as they travel between homes, hoping they won't be the source of conflict a</span><span>nd discomfort.</span></div><div><span><br /></span><span>There is anxiety caused by core beliefs developed at an early age--beliefs that impact thoughts, actions, reactions, and feelings. Some of my anxiety-inducing core beliefs were: "I am responsible for everyone's happiness." "My being loved depends on me being a perfect size, a perfect wife, a perfect mom, perfect daughter, or perfect believer." "My value and worth as a person comes from what I do." When I held those beliefs as true, my anxiety was tied to wanting to find the perfect present for everyone and wanting to respond perfectly to every gift received, which is hard for a reserved introvert. That perfectionism was complicated because having the perfect marriage, perfect family, and perfect holidays depends not just on me being perfect, but on others being perfect as well. I learned I've no right to project perfectionism and am simply called to love well, to extend grace, and to lovingly speak truth. </span></div><div><span><br /></span><span>I've learned things that have calmed my anxious heart. First, I learned God doesn't demand perfection. He desires us to be humble and to express anxious thoughts to safe, nonjudgmental friends. I am graced with such friends who listen well and friends who remind me they hear me and see me. This reminds me that my heavenly Father sees me as well. Sometimes my friends share truth about God's goodness, bigness, and graciousness in non-shaming ways, but most often they just listen, knowing I simply need to bring it to the light. Sometimes they offer to pray with me and give me the opportunity to cast my cares on God, because He cares for me. </span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>Secondly, I learned to choose wisely with whom I share my struggles. This was a hard lesson learned when I shared with people who were quick to judge and admonish rather than listen and encourage. I now share only with those who understand God's love and grace and who are more about transparency than appearances. They are the </span>ones whose gentle encouragement reminds me to continue believing our God is bigger than Covid, this conflicted world, and family dysfunction.</div><div><span><br /></span><span>Third, I've learned that when I feel panicked and anxious, I can talk freely to God about it because He isn't waiting to strike me with lighting because of a feeling I am experiencing. He's always inviting me to remember who He is and who I am in Him. Remembering God's character, strength, love, and grace helps me stay calm today just as it did through other anxiety evoking life events. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>Fourth, I have learned I can dissolve or manage anxiety that is caused or increased by lies I believe. I learned the lies from others who were misguided, from misinterpreting things I saw, and from The Enemy who seeks to squash faith by whispering lies in our ears in the face of the hard. His lies made me feel shame and stirred anxiety when he whispered things that caused me to doubt God, His character, His love, His goodness, and His faithfulness. My anxiety decreases when I confront lies with boldly declared truth. </span><br /><span><br /></span><span>The Enemy wants us to forget we are chosen, accepted, redeemed, beloved children who have been bought with the blood of God's own Son and sealed into His family by His own Spirit. Satan wants us to believe our circumstances prove we're bad, forgotten, unseen, or abandoned by God who calls us His own. The Enemy shames us because shame causes us to hide or deny our reality instead of casting it on God through prayer and thanksgiving. The Enemy uses shame to stir this form of pride that drives us to look "all together" while quaking at our core. It causes us to miss out on care and comfort of the God who gives it freely. The Enemy also uses shame to isolate us because he knows when we engage with others, we get out of our own heads and see the lies for what they are. The Enemy wants us to feel responsible for things over which we have no control--things like others' feelings, attitudes, choices, beliefs. and actions. He prompts us with the should of shame, the seduction of power, and reminder of sin already confessed.</span><br /><span><br /></span><span>I write all of this to remind us that Christmas is a Holy holiday, commemorating the birth of our Savior, the birth of our Shepherd who loves and seeks His sheep, and the birth of our King who had made us joint Heirs with Him. </span><span>The Enemy wants us to take our eyes off Jesus and put it on anxiety-provoking things like that impossible perfect Christmas, Covid, and unrest. Let's not buy into the lies he tells so we can rest in God-given peace and joy that come through knowing Him who died to redeems us. May our holiday goals be connection, loving well, acceptance of our perfectly imperfect selves, sweet conversations, and simple gifts that remind us of Jesus. </span></div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-47058593957586409952021-11-30T12:00:00.001-08:002021-11-30T12:00:46.861-08:00As Advent Begins, Let's Remember <p> This last Sunday was the beginning of the Advent Season; the season in which we all begin to anticipate Christmas. It is so easy to get focused on planning holiday meals, and decorating the house, shopping and gift wrapping. It is also easy to get focused on both the good and the hard of getting extended families together as we deal with different personalities, values, and dysfunction. And as we repeatedly hear the phrase, "Jesus is the reason for the season," we all try to contemplate the meaning of Christmas. </p><p>We find ourselves thinking about the angel telling a young girl she would bear the Son of God and the beautiful words she penned in response: </p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p style="text-align: left;"> "My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for He has looked on the humble estate of His servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name. And His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; He has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts; He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and exalted those of humble estate; He has filled the hungry with good things, and the rich He has sent away empty. He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy, as He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to His offspring."</p></blockquote><p>We find ourselves thinking about the virgin bride and the man betrothed to her, traveling far to pay their taxes. We think think about the virgin, heavy with child, being turned away and directed to rest where animals rest, giving birth in the dark of night. We think about the newborn babe lying in a manger, wrapped in swaddling clothes. We think about the irony of shepherds being surprised by an angel announcing the birth of the Lamb of God and their trek to Bethlehem to the beat of the angel Choir singing praises to God and we can envision those shepherds kneeling before the Lamb in the manger bed. </p><p>We think about the star-gazing Magi who believed in prophecies, recognizing the Christmas Star and following it all the way to Bethlehem, bearing gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh worshiping at the feet of the young King. </p><p>But the truth is, these are just part of the beautiful story we call Christmas. There are many other stories in the Bible which are just as much a part of the epic redemptive saga. The stories are like chapters in a book where each individual chapter is needed to grasp the fullness and the richness of the story.</p>Christmas is also about God fulfilling the promise He made in Eden to destroy the Enemy. We all know the Enemy for he is the one tempting and taunting us with blatant, ugly lies. He is the one seeking to destroy us through addictions, pornography, and other strongholds of sin that never satisfy and have a deep grip on the soul. He is the one trying to destroy our relationship with our Creator by drawing our attention away from the One who loves us completely, purely, and sacrificially. He is also the one trying to cast doubt on God's goodness by twisting His truth so it looks like rules of deprivation rather than the carefully crafted protection. He is trying to cast doubt on God's faithfulness by by convincing people that the hard we face in this life is proof of God's lack of care. He is trying to cast doubt on God's grace by adding all sorts of legalistic man-made rules to the gospel of grace. <br /><br />Christmas is also about God being a keeper of covenants. It is about Him keeping His covenant with Noah, promising to never again destroy all life with flood waters. It is also about God keeping his covenant with Abraham, promising to give him a son, land to call his own, and enough descendants to make a great nation through which all families of the earth would be blessed. Christmas is about God revealing and then fulfilling the dream of Jacob's ladder, providing mankind a gateway to the courts of heaven. It is about Him changing Jacob from being a deceiver and manipulator to one who wanted nothing more than to be blessed by God. <div><br />Christmas is about preserving the life of Joseph while he was living in Egypt so that He could preserve Israel through a famine. It is also about God then freeing Israel from the slavery that they were forced into. It is also about God walking them all the way back to the promised home land, drowning Pharaoh's army that was in hot pursuit.<br /><br />Christmas is about the prostitute Rahab being saved as she clung to the hope promised in a scarlet cord hanging from her window as the walls of Jericho came crumbling down around her. It is about her being taken from the life of prostitution and being placed into the family line of the Savior. <br /><br />Christmas is about Ruth finding grace in her mother-in-law's family, enabling her to give birth to the grandfather of David.<br /><br />Christmas is about the covenant God made with David, promising that through David a King would come whose throne would never end. It is about the King who would reign in righteousness, love, power, truth and grace unlike David who, though passionate in his pursuit of God, stumbled and fell. <br /><br />Christmas is about the fulfillment of prophesies given by the God who wants us to know His Son. He told us Jesus would be born to a virgin in Bethlehem. He told us He would be from the tribe of Judah. He told us He would be from the family of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and David, which in all honesty is a family as messy and dysfunctional as any one of ours. He told us Jesus would spend time in Egypt and Nazareth, while the enemy would slaughter many children in an attempt to kill Him. He told us Jesus would be called Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty Prince, and Emmanuel. </div><div><br /></div><div>The Father told us Jesus would be tempted by Satan and not give in. He told us Jesus would be rejected by His own country and He was as they accused Him of being crazy, the Spawn of Satan, and a liar. He told us Jesus would speak to crowds through parables and would heal the brokenhearted--the lady at the well, the woman with a bleeding issue, the adulteress cast at His feet, the lepers, the lame, the blind, the deaf, the demon possessed, the harlots--all people separated and marginalized by sin, deformities, or illnesses were made whole and brought into His fold. He told us Jesus would be betrayed for 30 pieces of silver, falsely accused, illegally tried, spat upon, hand-slapped, mocked, hated without cause, and crucified between criminals. His hands and feet were pierced and His side stabbed just as God said it would be. God also told us Jesus, the forsaken One who prays for His enemies, would be a sin offering and bear the wrath of God for each of us so by faith we could be imputed with His righteous.</div><div><ul></ul>Christmas is also about future prophesies. Our Jesus will return for His bride, the church--not as a the Lamb--but as the Lion of Judah. He will come on a white horse and be called Faithful and True. He will make war on evil as He judges in righteousness and truth. His eyes will be like flames of fire. On his head will be many crowns. He will be clothed in a robed that is dipped in blood and He will be called The Word of God, the King of kings, and the Lord of Lords. From His mouth will come a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations and He will rule them with a rod of iron. As He reigns, He will make all things new and there will be no more sickness, no more death. He will be the ultimate Comforter as He wipes away every tear from our eyes. Things that are evil will no longer be called good, lies will not longer be viewed as truth, love will overcome hate. Those made righteous by the blood of the Lamb will rule and reign with Him forever and ever. Death will be nor more. Sin will cease. Relationships will be ruled by love, not power and abuse. And addictions will be nor more. </div><div><br />And, this, all of this and so much more is Christmas. </div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-49889143162740546972021-11-10T15:28:00.003-08:002021-11-10T15:28:43.714-08:00Craving a Father's Blessing <p>Our church has been going through the book of Genesis and I love it. It is full of people's stories--people just like you and me. They displayed both strengths and weaknesses. They had moments in which their faith shone bright and moments when their their unbelief is on display for all to see. Their lives were a mixture of good deeds and moral failures. And in all of that are some very valuable lessons for us. </p><p>One of the stories I have meditated on is Jacob's story. The name Jacob means supplanter, which has been interpreted as one who deceives, seizes, circumvents, or usurps. When Rebekah became pregnant her tummy was so active that she asked the Lord what was happening and He told her she was carrying twins and the older would serve the younger. Jacob was given the name supplanter because when Esau was born, Jacob had a hold of his heal as if he were trying to supplant his brother's position as the first born. Esau was favored by his father because he was a man's man who loved to hunt and provided game. Jacob on the other hand was favored by his mom as he liked to work around the tents. </p><p>There came a day when Jacob was cooking stew and Esau came in from the countryside famished. He demanded Jacob give him some of the stew he was cooking. Jacob saw an opportunity and told him he could have some of his stew if he would sell him his birthright. Esau who gave into his catastrophic thinking said, "Look, I am about to die, what good is the birthright to me?" He then swore an oath to Jacob granting him the right of the first born--all for a bowl of lentil stew. </p><p>Several years later when Isaac was old and his eyes were weak, he called Esau to him and told him that because of his age he didn't know when his death would occur. He instructed him to go hunting and to make him a tasty stew from the game so that he could give him his blessing before he died. Little did he know that Rebekah was listening. She devised a plan and instructed Jacob to bring her two goats so she could prepare a tasty stew for Isaac to eat so Jacob could receive the blessing. She helped him dress so Isaac would think Jacob would was Esau. A lot of people think that just Rebekah and Jacob were wrong because they were deceptive. But I also think Isaac was culpable too for being deceptive. I can't imagine Rebekah not telling him what the Lord had told her about the twins she was carry and I can't imagine that the family hadn't at some point discussed the fact that Esau had sold his birthright to Jacob for a bowl of stew. Another question that troubles me is how Isaac lived twenty more years after claiming he was on his deathbed. </p><p>Jacob takes the food into his father, claiming to be Esau. When his father questions how he was able to find the game and cook it so quickly, Jacob told lies, telling him God gave him success in hunting. Isaac asked him to come close so he could feel for the hair on Esau's hands because he knew the voice sounded like Jacob's. When he felt the hair Rebekah had applied to his hand and arms he asked him if he was really Esau and Jacob claimed that he was. After eating the stew Isaac spoke the blessing of the first born over his second born son. </p><p>When Esau returns he is enraged to find Jacob had received the blessing and threatens to kill him as soon as his dad dies. So Jacob flees to his mother's family and there he experiences deceit and manipulation for twenty years at the hand of Laban, who had become his father-in-law. Eventually he leaves with his wives and children and livestock he had accumulated to return home. Fearing his brother's reaction, he sends gifts ahead and puts his family where he thinks they will be safe. All alone he enters a wrestling match with a Man. They wrestle all night and as day was about to break the Man touched the socket of Jacob's hip and displaced it. That touch revealed that the power in the Man had been held back with restraint until the Jacob was at the end of himself. The Man tells him to let him go and Jacob tells Him that he won't let Him go unless He blesses him. The Man asked Jacob his name and Jacob has to admit aloud that his name is supplanter, deceiver, seizer, circumventer, or usurper. I can't help but believe that as he experienced Laban's treatment, he realized how he lived up to his name and how his actions had impacted others. </p><p>The Man ascribed a new name to Jacob, "Your name will no longer be Jacob, but Israel, because you have struggled with God and with humans and have overcome." When Israel asked The Man his name, The Man simply asked him why he asked, indicating that Israel already knew who He was. Then He blessed him and through that blessing Jacob realized he was face to face with God and that God had chosen to spare his life even though he, like all of us, deserved death. </p><p>In our culture we don't often talk about a father's blessing, but I think most of us can relate to wanting a parent's approval or favor. In our support groups women often share the deep pain they have experienced when they have perceived that either one or both parents has failed to meet their physical, emotional, or spiritual needs. Some of them became extreme perfectionists trying to earn their parent's love and words of approval. Some of them hid horrible secrets of abuse, hoping that someday the parent abusing them would begin to love them love, approve of them, or favor them over a job, a sibling, a step family. Some of them acted out in all sorts of ways believing the negative attention they got was better than no attention at all. Others have shared that they were bullied in school and that they so longed for acceptance and approval from friends.</p><p>Even though we know our women by their given names, we know there are other names they are hearing in their heads. Some of our women have shared the negative nick names they received from bullies, harsh parents, cruel siblings, unkind teachers, or neighborhood kids. All of them eventually share the negative words, messages, or negative beliefs they have ascribed to themselves in response to early childhood neglect, harsh words spoken to them, abuses of all kinds they have endured, bullies actions and attitudes towards them. Oh, those words are heartbreaking in light of the beauty we see in the women sitting in front of us--words like dirty, ugly, stupid, inadequate, invisible, dumb, not good enough, too much and too little, trash, and unworthy. Some of them also carry shame because they, like Jacob, did all sorts of things they are not proud of to gain love and approval from anyone who would give it. </p><p>Over time, our women begin to understand, like Israel did, that the blessing of an earthy flawed and deeply wounded parent could never heal the deep wounds or satisfy what their heart craves like the blessing of the Savior who suffered in the ways they have suffered and who has died for their sin in their place. They begin to grasp that they are healed by Jesus stripes and that it is by faith that they have been given the Father's blessing and they, too, have had new names ascribed to them--names like Cherished, Beloved, Beautiful, Redeemed, Restored, Empowered, Gifted, Rescued, Qualified to receive His Inheritance, Sealed, Without Blemish, and Reconciled, Seen, Heard, And, there are so many more names to be discovered in His Word. </p><p>It is funny that as many times as I have read Jacob's story and as many times as I have heard sermons on his life, it was not until now that I really grasped that the father's blessing Jacob thought he craved did not satisfy his heart like he thought it would. It was only in the wrestling he did with God to reconcile what he saw in front of him and what He knew God had promised his mama long before that He realized the blessing He truly craved all along was the blessing that only God Himself could give. That's true for you and it is true for me. We don't have to manipulate, lie, supplant, to get what the heart really needs...for all all it really needs is Jesus. </p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px; line-height: 2.4rem; min-width: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px; line-height: 2.4rem; min-width: 0px;"><br /></p><p style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: system-ui, -apple-system, "Segoe UI", Roboto, Ubuntu, Cantarell, "Noto Sans", sans-serif, Arial; font-size: 16px; line-height: 2.4rem; min-width: 0px;"><br /></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-27502776853286314032021-09-28T14:25:00.000-07:002021-09-28T14:25:14.248-07:00God Didn't do It!<p>Over the years I have had many conversations in which people have said something like, "Why did God do this to me? "Why did God cause this to happen? Or, many different versions of these questions. Sometimes the person has been simply stating these types of questions as a protest for something difficult she is going through. I always want to be really sensitive to the pain being expressed and be available to process the grief she is feeling. . </p><p>At other times someone is asking these questions because she is upset at God because she is experiencing discomfort, which is the consequences experienced over choices they or their loved ones have or are making. At those times I have wanted to shout, "God didn't do this!" </p><p>God doesn't cause unplanned pregnancies. He doesn't cause people's addictions. He didn't lead someone to have an affair or to view porn. He didn't cause someone's divorce or a host of other things that are the result of the choices people are making. Some of these choices were made out of willful disobedience, but sadly some were made while trying to fill legitimate needs through illegitimate ways and some were the result of taking the bait Satan put in front of them during lonely, vulnerable, or difficult times. </p><p>I have always wondered what the best way to address these types of questions until I recently heard Gary Thomas speak at a conference. He said he was astounded at the things of which God is accused. He suggested we have them study the character of God and the character of the Enemy and then come back and talk about it. </p><p>So, today I thought I would explore both the character of Satan and the character of God. This is by no means an exhaustive study, but hopefully it will give us enough information we can better discern who is really behind some of the things coming at us or who is behind the behaviors of those who are hurting us.</p><p>The Bible tells us pretty specific things about the devil who is also called Satan or the Enemy. Satan: </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Was a murderer from the beginning and continues to be so</li><li>Is the father of lies whose native language is the Lie</li><li>Is the enemy of everything that is right</li><li>Is full of deceit and trickery</li><li>Perverts the right ways of the Lord which means he puts ugly, sinful spins on holy truth and ways </li><li>Holds the power of death, prowling around looking for someone to devour</li><li>Has people imprisoned and persecuted </li><li>Is filled with fury, knowing his days are numbered</li><li>Attempts to keep people from hearing, believing, trusting, or obeying God's word</li><li>Keeps people bound up for years in all kinds of infirmities</li><li>Tempts God's people to lie and hoard money</li><li>Masquerades as an angel of light</li><li>Torments believers in an effort to destroy their testimony</li><li>Blocks believers from going where they want to deliver the gospel </li><li>And uses all sorts of displays of power through signs and wonders that really serve his lies</li></ul><p></p><p>By contrast these are some facts about our God revealed through His names and His attributes that I read from <i>Praying the Names and Attributes of God</i>--a free E-resource available from Navigators. He is: </p><p></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li>Jehovah the One who possesses all authority</li><li>Jehovah-M'Kaddesh the One who sanctifies and sets us apart</li><li>Infinite, beyond measure, limitless, with no beginning or end </li><li>All-powerful and spoke all things into being and is now actively sustaining them </li><li>The embodiment of perfect goodness and kindness, continually pouring out His favor on us</li><li>The embodiment of perfect love, continually loving us in deeply personal ways as shown by Jesus's Sacrifice </li><li>Jehovah-jireh the One who provides more than we could ever ask or think</li><li>Jehovah-shalom the God of Peace that surpasses human understanding birthed in redemptions and sustained through learning to trust Him and live out our identity in Jesus </li><li>Immutable, ever perfect, and unchanging</li><li>Holy God who is utterly and supremely
untainted, unique, and incomprehensible</li><li>All-knowing with knowledge that encompasses the past, the present, and the future</li><li>Omnipresent fully present everywhere and will never abandon us </li><li>Merciful with mercy that never runs dry, having taken the judgment we deserved </li><li>Jehovah-nissi is our banner, signifying our victory over sin and death through Jesus</li><li>Perfectly wise, always acting for our good in His perfect time</li><li>Faithful, always keeping His word, honoring His covenants, and fulfilling His promises </li><li>Wrathful though He is never capricious, self-indulgent, or irritable, and His wrath governs the right and necessary reaction to moral evil </li><li>Full of grace, granting value where it is undeserved
and forgiving debt that is unrepayable </li><li>Comforter in all circumstances </li><li>El-Shaddai, the Lord Almighty sufficient and bountiful, the
source of all blessings</li><li>Abba Father is the Creator who chose to relate intimately to His creation as if we were each the only child </li><li>Intercessor who ever prays for us, fully knowing us, our trials, and our temptations </li><li>Elohim is the God of strength and power, jealously guarding His covenant relationship with us</li><li>Never tempts us with evil* </li></ul>When I look at these two lists side by side a thousand thoughts run through my head. But, I will only point our a couple of things. First, I think it is important to look back at the Fall and notice how Satan approached Adam and Eve because that is how he still operates. He still uses questions, half truths, and lies to cause us to question God's rightful sovereignty, His provisions toward us, and His love and goodness and favor He has towards us. We would be wise to view the thoughts we think and the choices we have before us through the lens of these two lists so we can be sure we are not being enticed, baited, or entrapped by the Enemy, keeping in mind he is the master of doubt-casting questions. <p></p><p>If we are hearing in our heads: Does God really care? Does God hear me? Is God really good? Why doesn't God want me to have fun? Satan is actively trying to turn our hearts away from our God. When we find our selves questioning God's authority, power, goodness, presence, mercy, faithfulness, love, care or any other attribute, we can be sure Satan has planted dangerous thoughts and those thoughts are not life giving, they are destructive. He can whisper these things subtly, causing us to believe the thoughts originated within us or he can use a person to speak his lies aloud. </p><p>Second, He will use the hard we face in this fallen world full of broken and needy people to try to entice us to turn our backs on God. He not only causes us to doubt God's character, He also tries to use our flaws, weaknesses, and sin as opportunities to shame us with a shame so toxic we begin to believe God can't really love us, save us, or change us. We would do well to remember it is Satan's voice that says God's mercy and grace are not big enough to cover all our failures--past, present, and future. </p><p>I have spent a lot of time reading and rereading Paul's epistles. The first half of his letters always tell us who our God is, who we are in Him, and what He has does to cultivate a living, loving relationship with us. In light of these magnificent truths, the last half of the letters call us to words, deeds, and actions that reflect those truths and protect us and our relationship with Him. </p><p>I hope as we navigate this life, we remember the differences in the Lord's character and Satan's. Because our great God is immutable, He will never ever act outside of His perfect moral character. On the other hand, Satan looks like a Saint one day and an hateful entity the next. He entices with all sorts of empty promises and then venomously shames us when we take his bait . God's perfect will and His directions always lead to life, and Satan's always lead to death. I hope we have the courage to gently remind a person struggling with hard stuff or hurtful people that our God was, is, and will forever be good and those things being blamed Him--He didn't do. </p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-78638201675333055712021-05-26T17:28:00.000-07:002021-05-26T17:28:40.026-07:00Why do we Judge Emotions so Harshly?<p>A friend recently posted that his daughter had to go back into the hospital and as a result he was experiencing some anxiety, My heart cringed when I read his post because it read like a confession, and I drew the conclusion that he thought the anxiety he was experiencing was a sin. I thought back to other similar posts and conversations I have had with people over the years who felt guilty because they, too, experienced uncomfortable emotions like fear, jealousy, anxiety, sadness, grief, or anger during difficult circumstances, on going trials, hurtful relationships, huge losses, traumatic events. Their guilt is conveyed through statements like: "I know I shouldn't feel this way," "I know I should be over this by now." "I know what I am feeling is wrong." </p><p>There are several reasons we tend to judge emotions or the people who experience them so harshly. First, our western culture tends to down play the importance of the emotions we experience. From early childhood on, we are told things like: "Oh, don't feel that way." "Oh, don't cry, just think happy thoughts!" "It's time to move on." Isn't it weird that we can bury parents, spouses, siblings, children, or best friends and then be expected to be "fine," feel happy, and go back to work asap. When we experience trauma's like rape, domestic abuse, and betrayal, everyone wants us to pick ourselves up by the proverbial boot straps, forgive, and move on as if nothing happened. It doesn't matter how big the losses, the trials, the hurt, or the trauma we are often admonished for the emotions we experience, causing us to experience guilt that comes when we have emotions lying just beneath the surface that we are expending enormous amounts of energy to push down. </p><p>Second, many churches demonize the uncomfortable emotions we tend to view as negative ones. These are emotions for which people are most often shamed. I have heard pastors even say things like, "We confess our sin, ungodly words, unkind actions, and feelings to you." I have heard people shamed in Christian circles for sharing they are experiencing fear in the face of a cancer diagnosis, grief a week after they buried a loved one, anxiety after someone broke into their home, anger experienced over the abuse of their child, hurt experienced in the betrayal of a spouse, or disappointment as dreams go unfulfilled due to infertility, job losses, broken relationships, or accidents or illnesses that leave us struggling. The shaming statements come in the form of: "Haven't you ever heard of forgiveness." "Good Christians don't feel anxious." "If I weren't so controlled by the Holy Spirit, I would be crying, too." "Christians are supposed to be joyful!" "Fear is wrong!" "If you trusted God more you wouldn't feel that way." </p><p> We, as humans created in the image of God, would do well to understand an emotion is simply a chemical reaction to an external stimulus designed to be messengers that can help us navigate life. For example, fear can tell us we are in danger and need to take action, freeze, or flee. Anger can tell us something harmful is in a relationship and needs attention to safeguard the relationship. Grief can tell us how much we love and /or value God, people, things, dreams, or concepts. Loneliness can tell us we need to reach out to others. Jealousy can motivate us to put boundaries in place and do the work necessary to safeguard our marriage. </p><p>It is also important to know the experience of an emotion is neither good or bad, it just is. However, since the fall, we have the tendency to misuse, misinterpret, and over think the emotions we experience. If an emotion rises and we simply observe it it will wash over us and quickly dissipate. But we often view an precipitating even through distorted lenses that cause us to magnify it or minimize the experience or compound it assumptions or with a ton of guilt. The experience of an emotion is not a sin, but the we use distorted thinking to interpret them and fuel them may lead us to sin. </p><p>It also is important to know the Enemy is continuously prowling around seeking who he can destroy. He is not a gentleman who sees us go through trauma, broken relationships, disappointments and thinks, "Poor thing, I will let her recover from this before I tempt or taunt her." Nope, he goes for broke, planting his lies and half truths in our minds when we are most vulnerable." </p><p>As I read through the Scriptures, I often wonder what the enemy was saying to people and what emotions were evoked. We know what Adam and Eve heard from the Enemy and I believe his words stirred dissatisfaction in their souls. That feeling didn't become sin, until they chose to eat and seek something apart from their God. They could have taken that dissatisfaction and the lies they were being to the Lord and worked through it with Him. That would have reminded them that the satisfaction they felt in God's presence was enough. </p><p>In the same way Cain's jealousy could have driven him to obey God's directive for worship the way Abel did so he might the same intimacy with God Abel had. </p><p>Twelve spies went to scout the Promise Land and saw a land flowing with milk and honey. They also men who were as big as giants. I bet all twelve felt an initial jolt of fear when they saw the men. In this case God had given them specific instructions and promised He would deliver the land to them. Ten forgot God and His promise as they nursed their fear and refused to enter the land and got the whole nation to agree with them. But there were two who remembered God and His promises and believed God would go before them and fight on their behalf, they tried to get people to follow them in, but no one would go. In the face of our emotions God can grant us godly wisdom to know when fear is legitimate and needs to be honored and listened to, when it is irrational and to be reframed through Truth, or when it is rational but something to be worked through fostering the growth of courage which enables us to do what God has instructed us to do in His strength.</p><p>The story of Naomi and Ruth gives us great insight in how two people can experience great losses and respond so differently to grief. Naomi, as a lifelong Jew, seemed to believe if people are good, they are blessed and protected from hard things. She feels deserted by God when she loses her husband and both of her sons. Her daughter-in-law, Ruth, new to the faith didn't have those misconceptions and she leaned into God and leaned into love and had compassion for Naomi and walked her home, embracing Naomi's God with all that she was. She then walked in faith into a loving relationship with a man whose own mother had been a foreigner, placing her into the direct, lineage of Christ. Later on we see Mary and Martha tale their grief over losing Lazarus directly to Jesus and he didn't reject them. They poured their hearts out to them and He wept with them. </p><p>We can look through Scriptures and see that Deuteronomy describes God as a jealous God, We also see that Jesus experienced frustration and/or irritation as the Sons of Thunder vied for the right to sit at His hand the ire He experienced motivated Him to confront them. When Jesus drew near to Jerusalem, He wept over it, saying, "Would that you, even you, had know on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes!" And as Jesus entered the Garden of Gethsemane to pray he said to His disciples, "My soul is very sorrowful, even to death!" </p><p>So, maybe instead of judging others or ourselves for the emotions we experience we should be curious about them. What has triggered the emotions we feel? Is the emotion rational or irrational? Is it magnified by hyper-focus or minimized by denial? What does the emotion tell us about our hearts, attitudes, and beliefs and do any of these need correction? Am I looking at the triggering events or people through Scriptural lenses? Am I letting my emotions drive me to my knees and the heart of my God or am I listening to the Enemy and running away? Is there something in another's story that will help me understand, validate, and empathize with their experience and how can I participate in walking them back into the Savior's arms? </p><p>Some of the deepest intimacy I've experienced with God occurred when I was radically honest with God about the emotions I was experiencing. When I was honest about the raging anger inside over the abuse I had experienced, He took me to the pain running under the anger and showed me His love was big enough to heal it. When I feared the potential loss of my two and a half pound granddaughter and cried out daily on her behalf, He was the source of peace that saw me through the emotional roller coaster ride that comes with loving a premie and her parents and feeling powerless to help. When I got honest with God about the fears I experienced when our sons went to war, I woke up daily wanting to talk to Him about them. living in the awe of the fact that prayers on this side of the world were being answered on the other side. By letting go of the tendency to harshly judge emotions and the people who have them we could form deeper heart connections that satisfy our souls and strengthen our faith. </p><p><br /></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-51846085044522206542021-05-13T12:41:00.004-07:002021-05-13T12:41:40.751-07:00How do you Measure God's Love? <p>I recently viewed a clip advertising a sermon in which a pastor asked, "How do you measure God's love?" The question stirred my heart and lead me to reflect on how I have measured God's love over the years. I must admit that there were were different times that I doubted God's love a lot. There were several different reasons for the doubt I had. </p><p>First, some of the doubt was connected to traumatic events I had experienced. At the time of these doubts I believed God would want to protect someone He loved and yet there were several times I experienced trauma from which He didn't protect me. </p><p>There were times that I doubted God's love because I had prayed important prayers and God did not answer with a "yes" or "no." Instead, He seemed to go silent at the times I believed I needed Him the most. Sometimes those prayers were about difficult situations I was facing, sometimes they were about the hurt a loved one was experiencing, or they were about very difficult relationships I had and I begged God to resolve or to heal and the silence along with the hurt seemed to never end. </p><p>There were other times I believed God loved me a little, but not as much as He loved others. At the time I had a habit of comparing my life and how God worked in it to the lives of others and to the way He worked in their circumstances. I also compared the blessings I noticed God bestowing on others, but not on me. Of course I realize now that I didn't really understand a lot about God and how He relates to His people. Because of that I had developed a nice neat little box that I tried to put God in. Now, I am so thankful that He refused to operate in the limited way I thought He should. </p><p>There was also a period of time in which the Enemy had convinced me I was unloved and unlovable. He whispered that in my mind every chance He got and over time that belief became a stronghold in my life and skewed my ability to see and recognize God's love, His blessings, and His continual work in my life.</p><p>Several years ago I heard a sermon on loving God with all of our heart, soul, and mind, I asked God to teach me how to do that and for the next year He bombarded me with sermons, music, and unsolicited notes of encouragement all speaking to the radical love God had for me. Towards the end of that year I realized I would never be able to love God the way I wanted to without believing in His immeasurable love for me. </p><p>Not long after that I was struggling with a besetting sin and was so discouraged. I confessed that sin and remember saying something like, "Lord, I want to get rid of this sin so that you can really love me!" As I was walking and praying I was listening to Christian music and a song about the cross started playing and in my mind I saw Jesus hanging on the cross with my sins etched into His skin. My eyes filled with tears and I glanced up at His face, expecting to see the same condemnation I was feeling towards myself. But instead I saw love and compassion in His eyes. That was when the truth of Romans 5:8 moved from my head to my heart. "But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." </p><p>I began to understand that the measure of God's love wasn't found in His protection from the hard we experience in this fallen world I so badly wanted to be paradise. It wasn't found in the timeliness of answered prayers as the waits themselves were an invitation to keep pouring my heart out to Him. The measure of God's love wasn't even in what I perceived as blessings at the time. For I have since learned that there is as much blessings in the wait as there is in the prayers that are answered with a "yes" or a "no." I have also learned that blessings come in many forms. They can be material, they can be relational. They can be timely words spoken that are like honey to a hungry soul. They can be loving confrontations that redirect me back to the path that God has laid out for me. They can be the Lord's words, jumping from the page to my heart in His perfect timing. They can be prayers answered yes, prayers answered no, and they can be prayers that are met with God's silence--a silence that drives me to my knees and into deeper trust with Him. </p><p>The measure of God love was, is, and always will be the cross. While I was His enemy, steeped in sin, selfish, and unloving, He sacrificed His life, taking my, rebellion, and selfish ways in His flesh so that He could impute to me His righteousness. When I understood that truth, it totally changed how I viewed my my relationship with God. I no longer spent enormous amounts of energy trying to measure or to earn God's love. Instead, I started looking for Him and His love in every situation I encounter. If it is a happy situation I find that He is there in the midst of it celebrating with me. If it is a hard and painful situation I find Him there with me, revealing more about Himself to me and He walks me through the hard. If it is a trying time, He is there lovingly stretching me so I can walk through it with my faith strengthened, my sinful parts exposed and whittled, and my my character molded to be more like Him. </p><p>Can I encourage you today to honestly look at your thoughts, actions, and reactions to life? Then ask yourself what these things reveal to you about how you are measuring God's love. If you have distanced yourself from God, it could be a sign that you are measuring His love by a faulty measuring stick. Acknowledge the disappoints and pain you have experienced and express to Him the confusion you may have over unanswered prayers and then camp on Romans 5:8 and let the truth of it sink into your heart. Then you can view those things through the truth of a Heart-shaped lens, which will free you to live loved. </p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-81380078158720464162021-05-09T08:34:00.000-07:002021-05-09T08:34:39.248-07:00When Mother's Day is Hard<span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">There are times that holidays like Mother's day are hard. I remember the sadness I experienced on Mother's Day after moving across the country. I was so used to spending it with my mom and I found myself overwhelmed and lonely in a new place. I felt a sense of loss even though she was still alive. </span></span><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">When I became a mom, my husband did his best to make it special, so I hid the sadness I experienced being so far away from my mom. It was years later that I faced the holiday with my Mom truly gone. It hurt as I realized I would no longer be able to hear her voice, buy her a card, or send her flowers. I was a bit more prepared because I had some friends who had shared the grief they experienced with me on Mother's Day. They had lost their mothers so early in life. Sadly, some of them were so young they had to tell teachers they didn't want to make a card because they didn't have a mom. They felt different and hated feeling that way. </span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This morning I still feel a sense of loss, especially since my sister passed away yesterday. My grief carries with it a feeling of compassion because of the painful stories others have shared with me and it drives me to my knees as God is the only one that can help those who hurt. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;">I pray for those for whom this holiday stirs up longings for relationships with moms that they know will never be fulfilled. It doesn't matter if their moms have died, if their moms have abandoned them, if their moms are too dysfunctional to relate to them in healthy ways, or if their moms betrayed them and didn't protect them. The pain of longing they feel is a pain that runs so deep. Some long to hear their mothers' voices speak words of affirmation, knowing they know most likely will never be spoken. Some long to hear much needed apologies for harsh words spoken in fits of rage, for loving so poorly, for failing to protect, or for leaving when life got hard. Some are longing for one more bear hug or for the hugs that will never be given. Some long for one more conversation or long for a conversation they know they will never have. Some long to hear their moms' laugh again or are left wondering what their laughs would have sounded like had depression not stolen them. Some long to hear their moms say they understand, realizing their moms won't hear their words and respect their perspectives. Some long to have moms who would have protected them from perpetrators instead of choosing to protect their family's reputations, their church, or the delusion that their families were healthy and happy. Some long for moms who were stable enough to calm fears instead of being the source of the fears. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;">I pray for those whose hearts feel empty on this Mother's Day. Maybe it is because they can't remember a time that they didn't long for a child and live with the realization they will never conceive. Their hearts grieve monthly, but even more on this day. They hurt not only for the unfulfilled longing, but because of the lack of empathy and the people who tell them to get over their grief or who admonish them to trust God more. What do they do with the longing the Creator has written on their hearts?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;">I pray for the ladies who were able to conceive but who lost children before they could breath their first breath. They grieve the loss of the baby they wanted but will never get to hold. And they grieve the loss of hopes and expectations they had for their child and themselves as parents. Many suffer in silence because those around them didn't recognize their loss and those that did are impatient with the grief they express. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;">I pray for the moms whose memories include abortion. No matter what their reasons were, they were deceived into believing it would make life easier. Yet, every year they remember and feel the loss that is shrouded in shame. They find themselves wondering about the child whose life ended because of the choices they made. I am thankful for those who have experienced God's grace and have been given a safe place to grieve and repent. And I pray for those who haven't repented, hoping they will do so, so they can freely grieve and confess the decision they made and learn to cling to the assurance of a heavenly reunion.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;">I pray for the moms who were fortunate enough to birth children and enjoy them for a season only to lose them way too soon. They have walked a grieving journey many of us will never walk. When this day rolls around, their hearts are both heavy and thankful as they remember past Mother's Days filled with and hand made cards, expressing childish sentiments. Even those with other children are painfully aware of the empty chair at the table. </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;">I pray for the moms who have children who are incarcerated or who have run away. The shame of wondering where they went wrong is sometimes too much to bear. The worry that comes from wondering if children are alive, safe, cold, hungry, or in harm's way is constant. They not only grieve the choices made by their children, they grieve the holes left in their family and the dashed hopes they once held dear for their kids.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;">I also pray for the moms and the children who lost their relationship through suicide. That death is a hard one to grieve because of all the unasked and unanswered questions. "Was it my fault?" "Could I have prevented it?" "Why did they want to die?" "Why did they prefer death over life?" "What signs did I miss?"</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;">One of my friends suddenly lost her mom several years ago in a tragic accident. She has shared that on the Saturday before Mother's day, she takes time to acknowledge, remember, and grieve the losses she experiences because of her mom's death--losses like her children never getting to know their grandmother, the words and notes of affirmation her mom was so good at giving, the godly wisdom she shared, and the hours she knew her mom was on her knees praying for her and her siblings. Setting this day apart for remembering her mom, has helped her be able to stay present with her kids and enjoy her mother's day. </span></div><div><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161;">I don't share this post to take away the celebration of this holiday as it's a holiday that deserves to be recognized, honored, and celebrated! My goal is simply to remind us that it is not always easy for others. I hope we can be empathetic and gracious as we rub shoulders with those whose experience today is not one of joy. Empathy might mean writing a note to a friend struggling with infertility. It might mean planting a rose bush with someone who's lost a child or a mom. It might mean having coffee with a friend and allowing her to talk about her loss without admonishing her to move on. It might mean doing something creative with a friend who has suffered a loss and wants to bless another. It might mean having lunch with someone spending their first Mother's Day alone, reminding them through your presence that you remember their loss with them. It might mean being willing to listen to a process letter written to a mother who was absent, distracted, unloving, or abusive and then helping them figure out ways to release the pain they feel and to forgive at a deeper level. The possibilities are endless, for when Mother's Day is hard, it offers us so many opportunities to love those who hurt in tangible ways.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #616161;" /></span><p><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></p></div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-46462986690091058122021-03-29T19:31:00.031-07:002021-03-30T19:16:23.445-07:00Look for the Grace<p> A couple of weeks ago our pastor covered the story of Abraham sacrificing Isaac. When he first started teaching the passage, I felt an uneasiness in the pit of my stomach just like I had every other time I read the story. As a mom of five children, I could not imagine being asked by God to sacrifice them on an alter. I began to pray as I listened to the sermon and God impressed upon my heart the words, "Look for the grace." </p><p>To see the grace that lies in this story, I thought back on Abraham's life and put it in its context. Abraham and Sarah had lived in a culture that worshiped fertility gods. While there, they struggled with infertility and any sacrifices they might have made to the stone fertility idols didn't result in any children. When Sarah was 65 and Abraham was 75 God called them to leave this culture and promised them a son and many offspring through him. They left for a new county, hoping in the child God promised. </p><p>On their journey Abraham lied about Sarah being his wife on two different occasions. He did this because he was afraid He would be killed rulers who might want to take Sarah as their wife. He justified the lies and his lack of protection over Sarah by pointing out that she was a half sister. Both times God extended them grace by stepping in to protect Sarah from the men who took her into their homes. </p><p>On their journey they grew tired of waiting on God to provide them with the promised child. First, Abraham wanted to adopt his nephew so his children could become his decedents. But, the Lord stepped in and graciously affirmed His promise again. The waiting grew long and Sarah, fearing she would never bear a child, took things into her own hands and offered her handmaiden to Abraham to conceive a child for them. Then when Hagar got pregnant, she treated Sarah with contempt. Sarah dealt harshly with her and had Abraham send her away. God graciously intervened for Hagar and sent her back to Abraham and Sarah and then once again affirmed His promise. </p><p>After eleven more years of waiting, God sent messengers to again affirm His promise to them. At this point Sarah was in her tent when she heard the promise spoken aloud. The post menopausal Sarah laughed in unbelief as she thought, "Shall I indeed bear a child, now that I am old?" The messengers confronted both her laughter and her thoughts, telling them within a year they would have a baby. She denied laughing because she was afraid and yet God showed them grace in the face of their lies, their missteps, their manipulation, their unbelief, and their denial>> He brought Sarah's body back to life and she conceived Abraham's child and birthed Isaac when she was 90 years old. </p><p>The waiting, as hard as it was had been God's grace at work. It had exposed their ungodly ways and had allowed them to become apart of God's story as He revealed that He alone is the author of life. He did what no stone idol could do, He created life in an impossible situation. </p><p>That brings us to the uncomfortable part of their story. God told Abraham to take his beloved Isaac to Moriah and offer him as a burnt offering. The request may not have seemed all that odd to a man who had deep roots in a culture that offered children as sacrifices. Yet, we know they deeply longed for and waited a lifetime of years for Isaac. To be honest, the first time I read this story I was a young mom and a part of me wanted Abraham to stand up and argue with God or to at least come up with an alternate plan as he had done many times before. But Abraham was now a changed man and he quietly and firmly resolved to obey God. Abraham and Isaac leave the next morning and travel for three days. </p><p>During that three days Abraham had lots of time to process and change his mind, but with every step he took he remained resolved to obey his God. Hebrews 11:17-19 gives us insight into his mindset, "By faith Abraham, when he was tested, offered up Isaac, and he who had received the promises was in the act of offering up his only son, of whom it was said, "Through Isaac shall your offspring be named." He considered that God was able even to raise him from the dead." It still had to have been a difficult journey.</p><p>When they came to the place to which God had instructed them, Abraham built the alter and took the wood from Isaac and laid it out. He then bound Isaac and laid him on the altar. He took his knife to slaughter his son, but the Lord intervened and said to Abraham, "Do not lay your hand on the boy or do anything to him, for now I know you fear God, seeing you have not withheld your son, your only son from me." As Abraham lifted his eyes he saw there was a ram caught in a thicket by his horns and he took the ram and offered it up as a burnt offering instead of his son. The Lord then tells Abraham, "...because you have done this and have not withheld your son, your only son, I will surly bless you, and I will multiply your offspring as the starts of heaven and the sand that is on the seashore. And your offspring shall possess the gate of his enemies, and in your offspring shall all the nations of the earth be blessed, because you have obeyed my voice." </p><p>I think the first time I read this, it seemed harsh, but as I look for the grace in the story, I find it a sweet and tender story. I realize that God was testing Abraham and that the test not was set to prove something to God. It was set to prove something to Abraham, to Isaac and to us. By having Abraham go though this test, God graciously showed Abraham that his once floundering faith that tended to disappear in the face of fear had now matured and stayed strong in the face of this hard task. Abraham's faith was now based firmly on the words of His God. He had grown a deep resolve to honor and obey God who had given him a son. This faith trip was also an opportunity to grow Isaac's faith. Isaac who was big enough to carry the wood could have pushed back when it came time to lie down on the altar, but he, too, had a firm resolve to obey. When God had Abraham's story written, all of the missteps, the unbelief , and the lies were written for all future generations to see. But, in the telling of this part of the story, God shows us Abraham's strong faith and the resolved will of a man who now deeply loved his God.</p><p>There is a grace that runs deeper still. And that grace is a glimpse of the Father's heart towards us. This story foreshadows Jesus's story as He lived a perfect life we could not live so that all of our lies, our missteps, our manipulating ways, our denial, our self-protective ways, and our sin could be covered by the blood of Jesus. It was the Father who showed Abraham what it felt like to sacrifice a Son and it was Jesus who stood in the place of Isaac as He lay down His life for us. That day so long ago at the altar God showed us His grace is relentless, flowing from a heart that continually pursues us until we are brave enough to lean into the hard that we face and look for the grace, </p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-78571091905289027272021-03-11T14:35:00.002-08:002021-03-11T14:35:22.856-08:00He is Not a Cookie-cutter God<p>A couple of years ago I stumbled upon a ministry known as People and Songs and have followed many of the musicians on Facebook and Instagram. Recently Crystal Yates who is one of the women in the group shared her testimony and a song she had written. I loved it. With her permission I will share her story in my words, but this is the link if you want to take a moment to stop and listen to her story in her own voice. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tF_AZBbU5k8">Crystal Yates- Leave Me Alone To Die - YouTube</a> </p><p>In her testimony she shared when she was five she often spent time with her granny who lived a couple of doors down from a little store. Her granny watched her as she walked to the store and picked out a treat and walked home. One day she went to the store for a jump rope and there were not any ropes. A stranger approached her and asked her what she was looking for and then offered to take her to another store to get one. She went with him. He snuck her out the backdoor of the store and headed to the woods with her. As they approached the woods, the man was beginning to disrobe and she sensed evil like she never had sensed it before. She became fearful and and remembered something her granny had taught her, "If you are ever in trouble or scared, say the name of Jesus." That little five year old girl began to cry out, "Jesus, help me!" The man immediately stopped and angrily said, "Do you want to go home?" She said, "Yes!" He immediately walked her to a clearing where she could see her house and she ran home.</p><p>I love Crystal's story. It shows her granny's faithfulness to teach her to call on Jesus and His power when she needed help. I love that the little girl spiritually discerned the evil presence guiding the man's actions. I love that she had the fortitude to cry out loud to Jesus and that he honored her plea. As I was listening to her testimony and the song she wrote I read through the comments people left on YouTube. Several women told her how much they appreciated the song and asked her to write one for those who weren't rescued. As a survivor I loved it that other survivors saw the beauty and the power of Jesus portrayed in this part of her story and as a result were drawn to it, even though their own stories were filled with trauma that wasn't stopped. </p><p>I direct a ministry that serves adult women who were victimized as children. As they begin to share their stories, we come across similar situations in group. Some women cried out to Jesus and were rescued in similar ways. Some cried out to Jesus and were still victimized. And some either didn't know Jesus at the time or felt too afraid, too dirty, or too ashamed to cry out. We try to begin our groups by asking participants to draw a picture of where Jesus was when they were being abused. Those pictures give us insight into how the group members interpreted the action or seemingly inaction of God towards them during their trauma. Some of the pictures show Jesus as a defender, some show Him watching with tears streaming down His face, some show Him as a distant being without arms, without eyes, or without a mouth. Some have drawn Him with His back turned towards them and said they did it because they believed God could not look on evil or that they were too dirty to be close to Him. </p><p>As stories are shared and women begin to talk more freely about their thoughts and feelings, they begin to uncover how they interpreted the events that took place in their life. Many of them assume that the evil they sensed and experienced was within them and that it caused the abuse to happen. They didn't realize the evil was attached to their perpetrators. As they do their work they begin to hand back the responsibility for the evil to those who harmed them and begin to more accurately interpret what has happened to them. Some of them assumed when they either asked Jesus to protect them or to stop their abusers that His lack of intervention proved they were guilty or were less loved by God than those who experienced God as Crystal and some of our ladies did. </p><p>When we first started the ministry, I was still doing my own work and found myself struggling to trust how God works in our lives. I questioned why He seemed to answer some prayers and not others. In that wrestling I reached a place that I told Jesus I was choosing to believe He was who the Scriptures said He was and I would no longer let my experiences, my feelings, my misinterpretations about my trauma define who I thought I was and who I thought He was. I began to accept that I am deeply loved and treasured by God and that what happened to me in no way proved I was less loved. I began to fully trust that Jesus was good and I became willing to accept His sovereignty over my life meant there was not anything that wasn't filtered through His love-scarred hands. </p><p>I saw a shift in my thinking, experienced my shame melt away, and I saw myself trusting God more with my life. I no longer believed I was an invisible second class member of God's family. The questions I voiced also changed. They were no longer protests disguised as questions, but were heart-felt questions driven by faith and a deep desire to know Jesus and His heart. Sometimes He answered questions though Scriptures, sometimes through spiritual insight during prayer times, and sometimes He answered them through people He provided to help me and to encourage me. Sometimes He answered questions right away and sometimes He waited to show me Truth and I learned to be comfortable with His timeline of answering. </p><p>I also began to ask Him where He was in the different traumatic events I experienced and He filled my mind with pictures of the events with Him there--each one different and unique to the situation. Now, when I think of those traumatic events, I think of Him there with me and those memories no longer bring the fear, the shame, or the terror with them. They bring peace and joy and a sense of being deeply loved through some really tough stuff. </p><p>One of the most important things I learned from the traumas I experienced was how deeply Jesus loves. As I worked with a counselor, I also studied Jesus' life, death, and resurrection. The more I studied His arrest, His trials, and His crucifixion the more I connected to His story and the more I believed He truly understood mine. Satan wants us to continue to believe we were so bad we caused our trauma, that we are still unlovable, and that God doesn't care about our suffering. However, Isaiah 52 and 53 reveal we have a traumatized Savior. He understands our pain, because He went through similar pain for us. He not only took on the sin of all men, but also God's wrath against it. He was stripped of His clothes and had people cast lots for them as He hung naked and exposed. He understands the pain of being physically wounded through violence and the emotional pain of having others blame Him for things for which He wasn't responsible. He understand heart-wrenching grief and sorrow of rejection. He understands what it is like to have those closest to Him turn their backs on Him when He was facing His worst pain and His greatest fears. He understands what it feels like to be misunderstood. He understands the feelings associated with being oppressed and suffering the pain and consequences of another's sin. He understands the feelings we have had when we say we feel forsaken by God who could have protected us, but chose not to, for on the cross He cried out, "My God, why have you forsaken me?" (Growing a Passionate Heart, by Wendy J. Mahill and Nancy Keller, LMFT, Available on Amazon.com) </p><p>During the beginning of my trauma work, I stayed busy so I couldn't feel the emotions and the presence of God in that area of my life. Then a freak accident caused me to be housebound with a severely broken ankle for most of a year. As I was on the way to the hospital, I sensed God saying the accident was for good and felt His love and peace wash over me. I spent time praying over my life story and reading out loud things I had written for my counselor. My tears began to flow freely and the love and peace of God overflowed and out of that overflow the Passionate Heart Ministry was born. I also learned when God, in His sovereignty, allows deep pain He invites us into a deeper knowledge of the fellowship of His suffering where we can begin to grasp that His love runs deeper than the pain residing in our hearts. I am so thankful for what the healing journey has taught me about God and HIs love. Trauma no longer controls me, my thoughts, my emotions, or my life. It is merely a tiny portion of the redemption story God has written for me to life. I have grown more comfortable and more excited to see all the different ways God works in the life of those He has called. He is not a cookie-cutter God. </p><p>In closing, Natalie Grant sang a song that impacted my healing journey. I hope you will take a listen here: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Idm7RlwrZVw">Natalie Grant - Clean (Performance Video) - YouTube</a> </p><p>If you have suffered sexual trauma I hope that you will lean into Jesus and keep getting help until you find peace, hope, and joy returning for it is by His stripes that we are healed. Please check our page www.passionateheartministry.com and our Facebook page <a href="https://www.facebook.com/passionateheartministry">Friends of Passionate Heart Ministry | Facebook</a>. We have resources and videos about our ministry at both places. </p><p><br /></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-8842981522656679062021-02-19T12:15:00.001-08:002021-02-19T12:15:13.682-08:00Those Red Sea Moments<p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Recently as I was reading Leviticus, I was reminded of some really cool things. First, I noticed that as Israel was fleeing from Pharaoh, they were not </span>haphazardly<span style="font-family: inherit;"> fleeing in a random direction just to get away from the Egyptian leader and his army. With every step they took, Israel was being led by God in a specific direction for a specific reason. Leviticus 13:18a says, </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">But God led the people around by the way of the wilderness toward the Red Sea.</i><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Then Lev. 14:1-4 gives us even more information, </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Then the Lord said to Moses, "Tell the people of Israel to turn back and encamp in front of Pihahiroth, between Migdol and the sea, in front of Baal-zephon; you shall encamp facing it, by the sea. For Pharaoh will say of the people of Israel, "they are wandering in the land; the wilderness has shut them in." And I will harden Pharaoh's heart, and he will pursue them, and I will get glory over Pharaoh and all his host and the Egyptians shall know that I am the Lord.</i></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">I had not read Leviticus in awhile and I had forgotten some of the details of this story. As I reread this chapter in particular I realized I had mistakenly formed a vision of Israel fleeing, wandering aimlessly, and getting trapped between the Egyptian army and the Red Sea, leaving God in the position to have to step in and rescue them. For some reason I remembered verse four where God told Moses He would be glorified, but I had forgotten the verses that described God purposefully leading them to the Red Sea and putting them into what looked like a hopeless situation. The Scriptures tell us that when the people of Israel saw the Egyptians approaching they were fearful and cried out to Moses, telling him that they wished he would have left them alone in Egypt as it would have been better for them to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Moses told them not to be afraid because they were going to see the salvation of the Lord that day. He also told them they didn't have to do anything as God, Himself, was going to fight for them. All they had to do was be quiet and behold the Lord's work. The Lord then instructed Moses to lift up his staff and stretch his hand out over the sea and when Moses did, the water divided and Israel was able to cross through the Sea on dry land. The Egyptian army pursued them and at just the right time the Lord closed the sea and drowning the army. </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">As I read this story, I realized when I have faced hard things, I had at times doubted my ability to follow God. I at times took the hard to mean I had failed, that something in my life was wrong and caused me to deserve the hard, or that I had misheard or misunderstood God's leading. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">As a newly growing believer, I remember having a conversation about my struggle with sin as a believer with a pastor. He reminded me of God's grace and mercy encouraged me to keep short accounts. By that he meant that when I sinned, I was not to run from God and wallow in shame, but to run towards Him in faith, confessing my sin and praising Him for His forgiveness and HIs grace. If I was doing that, I realized the hard isn't about punishing me for sin. In addition, if I remember the hard I experience is filtered through God's loving sovereignty then the hard is about strengthening my faith by giving me an opportunity to learn about God watch Him work on my behalf. And, because there is no hard that is too difficult for God, I can be sure that the hard is about God having the </span>opportunity<span style="font-family: inherit;"> to display His glory in ways that I can't even imagine. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have had a few "Red Sea" moments in my life, where I knew I was totally powerless and the only place I could look for help was up. Sometimes the moments were relational where conflicts were unending and could not be resolved. Sometimes they were within the work place when jobs were threatened and bosses were abusive. Sometimes they were health issues like being housebound with a severely broken ankle for a year, severe asthma attacks our son experienced as a little guy, the surgery and complications that occurred when our son's spleen ruptured, our granddaughter's three month premature birth, and my mother being put on hospice three states away as I was recovering from a broken knee. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">I can't help but think of things that others have faced that seem like they would be "Red Sea" moments. Maybe it was persistent infertility, multiple bouts with cancer, losing a spouse, children who walked away from their faith, abuses of all kinds, betrayal by someone we thought we could trust, or being rejected by those in the body that we thought we could trust. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">I hope when we are experiencing the hard and feeling pressed in on all sides that we will remember the Israelites plight as the Red Sea lie in front of them and the Egyptian army closed in from behind. What looked like an impossible situation wasn't an impossibility for God. It was an opportunity to show both the Israelites and the Egyptians army that Israel was God's chosen people and that He went to great lengths to reveal Himself to them as their protector, provider, and salvation. I hope we will lean into Him and in faith ask Him to display His power and His strength in the hard. I hope that in the hard we will be so focused on Him that we won't miss seeing His work and His glory on display. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: inherit;">Can I encourage you to think back on you life and identify "Red Sea" moments that you have experienced. Take time to notice how God intervened and reminded you that you were chosen. What did He reveal about Himself? Ask Him to show you what He was doing through the hard. We would do well to remember that God 's glory shines the brightest in what seems like the darkest and most impossible situations. When the hard comes, consider them a "Red Sea Moment" and remember our God is good. Let's run towards Him and behold His glory. </span></p>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8775065360827072627.post-21043692637565224212021-01-26T11:31:00.000-08:002021-01-26T11:32:08.258-08:00Life is Sacred<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">This time of year many churches talk about the sanctity of life. We take time to acknowledge the number of babies being killed by abortion every year. I have shared several times in this blog that when I read the Bible through for the first time, Matthew 2:18 left me feeling unsettled. </span><i style="color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><b>"A voice was heard in Ramah, weeping and loud lamentation, Rachel weeping for her children; she refused to be comforted, because they are no more."</b></i><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"> I </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">first associated this verse with Moses' time when Pharaoh ordered the midwives to kill Jewish babies and then with Christ's time when all boys under the age of two were to be put to death to make sure the new born "King" would not rise to power. </span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">I discovered this verse when I was having my own babies and I found myself frequently meditating on it. I could not wrap my mind around the brutal orders given by the men in authority that were responsible for the deaths of so many little ones. It became even more disturbing when I stood over a baby-sized coffin, weeping with my friend as she buried her six-month-old. My heart ached for every child lost and for every mama standing with like my friend, with empty arms and engorged breasts, weeping for a baby wanted. It hurt my heart to know those mamas could never hear their babies cry again. Never hear cute little belly laughs. Never hear them call, "Mama," after bad dreams. Never hear them sing or watch them dance. Never see them play tag, catch balls, or swim races. Never celebrate the milestones we often take for granted--first steps, birthdays, graduations, holidays, and marriages, and grandchildren. As my friend's baby was laid to rest, I could hear Rachel weeping with all the grieving Mamas. </p><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">As I read through the Old Testament, I saw some other things I believed might have caused Rachel to weep as well. As </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Israel moved into the Promised Land, some made unholy alliances with people who were steeped in pagan worship. P</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">agan religions were fear-based religions centered around idols representing angry gods. To appease angry gods people sacrificed virgin daughters who were taken to temples to be sexually abused and trafficked by temple priests. Some parents even offered babies to be burned before stone idols. It was common enough that God forbid the practice in His Law and required the death penalty for those who did such things in Israel. I believe as young daughters were taken and left with priests and when babies were placed on altars that Rachel could be heard weeping. </span><div style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"><br /></div><div style="background-color: white; color: #616161; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Its easy for us to judge those who sacrificed babies in pagan worship, but we are just as guilty of sacrificing children. Some sacrifice children by letting godless schools and daycare centers raise them and indoctrinate them with perverted confusing ideologies. Some sacrifice them by spending time on technology, leaving children feeling invisible, unheard, and unloved. Some sacrifice them when we vote for legislatures to go easy on those trafficking our sons and daughters. Some sacrifice their children when they protect families' or churches' reputations by covering horrific abuse going on. Some sacrifice children to the god of lust by bringing pornography into the home, leaving it in the bathroom or on computers where it randomly pops up for little eyes to see. <div><br /></div><div>Some sacrifice their children by having them literally sucked and scraped out of the womb for convenience sake. Our culture covers up the atrocities of abortion by blocking stories that talk about it in a truthful way. They cover it by calling abortion by different names. They call it "women's health care," but it has nothing to do with a woman's health. They have labeled it as "a woman's right to choose," while refusing to acknowledge that there are plenty of choices to be made before a child is conceived. They cover it up by calling a baby "a clump of cells." We may not be offering our children to gods of stone, but we are offering them to gods of ease, unbridled pleasure, selfishness, addiction, pride, and convenience. I believe Rachel can be heard weeping for children who need to be loved and protected. And when Cain killed Abel, God told Cain Abel's blood was crying out from the ground...if we could see the blood of all the aborted babies crying out, we would be swimming in it. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have heard the reasons women give for being proabortion. Some say it is needed because a pregnancy interrupts the education and careers of women. But I know women who have been moms and judges, and nurses, and teachers, and business owners, and architects, and Bible study leaders, and authors, and artists, and dancers, and musicians, and a host of other things. Some have stated that it is needed for rape victims, yet the abortion industry doesn't often report sexual abuse of minors that resulted in a pregnancy. And the number of abortions performed everyday and the number of women marching and saying they are proud of their abortions shows that abortion is no longer a somber decision, but a matter of birth control. I have seen posts where women were in favor of abortion they knew women who had more children than they believed they could handle or who were pressured by husbands who wanted to continue to have children until they got a preferred sex. Those are both very hard and serious marital and spiritual issues that can never be resolved through abortion. </div><div><br /></div><div>When Judge Barret was nominated for supreme court, women came out in droves wearing handmaiden costumes in protest of Barret's nomination and lifestyle. This showed how intolerant some are. My mom told me that as early as I could talk I wanted baby dolls and when asked me how many kids I wanted, I always wanted six. As an adult I still wanted six kids. When I got pregnant with my third, fourth, and fifth babies, some were happy for us but others made us the brunt of jokes and rude questions and comments. We chose to stop after our fifth baby, because I wasn't sure my body could carry another child and because I had suffered trauma at the hands of a brutal doctor during birth of my fifth child. It was a hard decision and one that I grieved deeply. Some don't understand that some women desire and enjoy children and want large families. The handmaiden's costumes, the media's judgmental posts, and those crying that her appointment sets women back a hundred years and the jokes and rude comments made to me and my husband prove proabortion people are not prochoice when the choice a woman or a couple makes is different than theirs. </div><div><br />I pray government will reverse laws that allow abortion. As I have prayed the period in which legal abortions can occur has been extended to the point that in one state it is up to full term and babies surviving are left to die. It hurts to see women who God made to be nurturers smiling and applauding the lives that have been brutally terminated. </div><div><br /></div><div>One year our church put up crosses on its lawn to represent lives lost every day to abortion. I know some people believe it is shaming, but I don't know any better way of making people aware of the number of babies that lose their lives and the number of women who are often left grieving with no help and support in the aftermath. <br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUaVA0lybDN0ZaarhXUm4K9q3h3QxxWnZXtdNBcJxvpNfHSv8HvrZymVwPk-uZTLnqC4UtRkpjVufBltpfuRLQVMSATPA1GQHPBmq6xWW6suzX5laaOAFYcmsM1c0xSuzWcdc5uxLoWC_/s1600/crosses+for+aborted+babies.jpg" style="color: #b23d22; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-decoration-line: none;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUaVA0lybDN0ZaarhXUm4K9q3h3QxxWnZXtdNBcJxvpNfHSv8HvrZymVwPk-uZTLnqC4UtRkpjVufBltpfuRLQVMSATPA1GQHPBmq6xWW6suzX5laaOAFYcmsM1c0xSuzWcdc5uxLoWC_/s320/crosses+for+aborted+babies.jpg" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; border-radius: 0px; border: 1px solid rgb(210, 210, 210); box-shadow: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0.2) 0px 0px 0px; padding: 8px; position: relative;" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">As I look at all of those crosses I can hear Rachel weeping for the children, can you? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;">As I sat by the incubator of our granddaughter born at 26 1/2 weeks, I prayed for her as I observed how perfectly she was formed. She had a head full of golden curly hair, was super active, fought hard for her life, and showed her spunky little personality when she would be woken up from a sound sleep for tests. I knew I was given a glimpses of life as it is in the womb and wondered how anyone could terminate it. They say that babies don't feel, but the NICU nurses gave us very careful instructions on how to touch her with out causing her pain. Those nerves in the thin skin of a premie are fully alive and near the surface. . </div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;">Children of church-going people have been sacrificed as well. It occurs when abuse is covered up to protect the abusers' and the churches' reputations. It occurs when church going women and teens get abortions to cover shame they feel over unplanned pregnancies. Sadly, terminating a life will never solve a sin or shame issue. In fact it increases the guilt, shame, depression, anxiety, and regret, causing grief over a lifetime. I am so thankful that churches in our area provide safe groups in which women can confess to one another the choice they made to obtain an abortion. They can come out of hiding and grieve openly the babies they terminated, and they can experience God's lavish grace in the context of real relationships. I am sure every year in those groups Rachel can be heard weeping with the ladies who have the courage to attend. </div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;">The psalmist wrote, "For you formed my inward parts, you knitted me in my mothers womb. I praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made...In your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there were none of them." We must understand our God is the giver of life and not equate choice with terminating life. God at times revealed his plans for people's children before they were even born. Issacs's parents were told. Samson's parents were told. Mary was told about Jesus role. John the Baptist's parents were told and amazingly, John recognized the Messiah Mary was carrying in her womb while in his own mama's womb. I believe he leapt for joy when Mary approached. </div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;">Sarah Purcel, who was on TV when I was young shared in an interview that she gave the birth mom of her adopted child a tape of her singing songs so she could play the music while pregnant. The birth mom complied and played those songs daily. When Sarah sang those songs in the delivery room, the baby quit crying and looked around for the one whose voice was familiar. Babies in the womb are not clumps of tissue growing that magically become babies after birth. They are humans fashioned by the living God. </div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;"><br /></div><div style="font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; margin: 0px;">I long for the day that Jesus reigns in perfect love and righteousness and all living beings consider life as sacred. I also long for the day that He will he wipe away every tear every "Rachel" has wept. </div></div></div>Wendyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02178220949195344583noreply@blogger.com0