When There are no Words

Many years ago, I went to therapy for an eating disorder. My therapist handed me a music CD filled with songs about eating disorders that was produced by Music for the Soul. She asked me to listen to it so we could talk about it at our next appointment. The next week she asked me what I thought of the CD and I told her it provided me with words that I hadn't had before to express what it was like living with a disorder. From the music, I realized I had developed my disorder as a way of speaking when I didn't know how to express what I needed to be said. I also realized later that it also expressed my heart's desire to fully embrace my Creator's design of me and to learn to live in peace as I saw myself and my life through His eyes. I remember feeling so thankful for the artists and the production team at Music for the Soul for helping me find a way to communicate what was going on so I could find the healing I desperately wanted. 

Then this summer our church went through songs of lament form the Psalms. This post would be way too long, if I tried to recap everything I learned about lamenting from our team of pastors. I want to share that as the series is winding down. I have been experiencing the familiar feelings of gratefulness I had experienced when I listened to the CD. I am overwhelmed at the goodness and grace of our great God who at different times in my life provided words for me when I did not have the words to express my experience and overwhelming emotions at a time I most needed to connect with God. 

We mostly covered David's Psalms of Lament, in which he articulated feelings of abandonment, sorrow, fear, doubts, despair, and guilt in unfiltered honesty. A good example of this honesty is found in Psalm 13:1-2, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?  How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?"   

David's Psalms also contained an element of pleading with God, which I love. Psalm 13:3-4 shows this beautifully. "Consider and answer me, O Lord my God: light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death, lest my enemy say, "I have prevailed over him, lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken." 

Then David ends his Psalms with a commitment to faith as shown in Psalm 13:5-6, "But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me." 

When I look back on my life, especially when it felt hard, I realized what helped me get through it was practicing these three steps of getting radically honest and expressing raw emotion to God, desperately pleading for help and deeper connection to Him, and remembering His faithfulness and previous work in my life.

I have read and used the Psalms during different times of my life. When I experienced fear after I woke up to an intruder I camped on Psalm 4, especially the 8th verse, "In peace, I will both lie down and sleep, for you alone have made me dwell in safety." In times of failure, I have camped on David's words and pleas for forgiveness and freedom from shame. I camped on Psalm 64 and 109 during a time I felt like I was being attacked. Leaning to look in the Scriptures for words helped me learn to engage with my Abba in unfiltered honesty. As I became more honest my questions changed, turning from prideful protests to a humble desire to see God in the middle of the hard stuff. 

It is my prayer that every person dealing with a past of victimization can turn to the Psalms to find the honest unfiltered words they need to take their pain and questions to God. It is my prayer that every parent who is hovering over the bed of a child in ICU or NICU or standing over a freshly dug grave would spend time in the Psalms find the words to honestly express their fear, deep longings, and the courage to lean to their faith and into their God. It is my prayer that those facing diagnoses and surgeries and treatments that are harsh on the body will find Words in the Psalm that will help them cry out in radical honesty to the Healer. And it is my prayer that both wounded and fallen soldier's families would find the words to cry out and lean into the Comforter. in their deep grief.   

What a grace we have been gifted by our God who gave us a book of Psalms full of words for when there are no words to describe the deep anguish we may feel, the overwhelming fear that may cause us to forget the powerful God we serve, the stinging isolation of feeling forgotten or unseen by the all-knowing, ever-present God, and the overwhelming shame that comes with besetting sin that can only be overcome by abiding in His grace. 

What I Wish I Knew When I First Got Married

For months I have been wanting to write a post on marriage. I attempted it and just could not write it. Then I saw a real posted by TBN on Facebook that opened my eyes and my heart to what God might have me say. So, I changed my topic to what I wish I knew when I first got married.  

The reel I saw was of a panel of women where Kristi Mcclelland was sharing that the first two words used to describe a woman is found in Genisis 2:18, a verse that I was very familiar with. It says, "I will make a helper suitable for him." What I didn't know what that the words in Hebrew for "helper suitable" is "ezer kenegdo" In our culture a helper is often seen as a person of less importance, lower status, less educated, and who has less ability than the one who is being aided. In other words, a subservient person. But "ezer" in Hebrew means helper, aide, strength. Kristi shared that ezer is a strong word, carrying the connotation of strengthening someone in ways that they cannot strengthen themselves. She also shared that the word "ezer" has also been used by God to describe himself in His relationship to Israel. I love that because we would never describe God as subservient to Israel. God did help, aid, and strengthen Israel in ways that Israel could not do for herself. 

Had my husband and I known that the first word God used to describe a woman was a word that God used to describe Himself, I believe we would have approached marriage in a different way. I believe my husband would have come into our marriage understanding that God never meant for him even as a leader to feel the full weight of making our marriage work. If he had understood that God was providing a person to help, aide, or strengthen him in ways he could not do himself, he might not have struggled with feelings shame when life, marriage, family life, or job left him feeling powerless. Maybe he would have been more open to letting me in on the hard he was faced with. 

Had I understood this concept myself, I would have protected my heart to focus on this role. I believe I would have used my voice more confidently to encourage my husband, instead of second guessing my right to speak. Had I fully understood God's calling, I might have trusted the wisdom He was giving me and looked for gentle loving ways to impart that to man. When I look back at some of the times my husband was facing hard stuff, I realize I missed opportunities to provide what he could not provide for himself, especially when my husband was being reviled for good and moral decisions he made. 

Josh Howerton, Senior Pastor, of Lakepointe Church, shared a story from his marriage that reflects what I am trying to convey. Josh, as s conservative pastor, has a strong social media presence. and he shared he had really big feelings the first time he got "cancelled" because he had spoken ttruth and he wondered if he would be able to support his family and continue his ministry. When he came into his house that evening, he was greeted by his children at the door who loved on him. Then as he entered the kitchen, he could see candles lit and the table beautifully set. He could smell his favorite meal cooking and asked his wife what was going on. She quoted Matthew 5:11, "Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is in heaven, for so the persecuted the prophets who were before you."  She then grinned at him and said, "Tonight we are celebrating!" Josh's wife provided encouragement, comfort, and aide to her husband in the same way God did Israel. 

I also believe that had I understood early in our marriage this crucial role to which I was called, I would have been more focused on fulfilling that role than judging how my husband was leading our family. I have a learned over the years that when I feel afraid, unsafe, or uncertain, my natural tendency is to become hypercritical of people or situations and believe that included my husband. Understanding God's design of the "ezer kenegdo" role, would have helped me overcome feelings of powerlessness from which that' critical spirit protected me and allow me the freedom to proactively look for ways to aid, support, and build up my husband in ways he could not do for himself. That would have allowed him to better lead and navigate the hard situations he faced.

Had I understood the "ezer kenegdo" role early in our marriage, I might have embraced more fully the reality of the messiness of marriage relationships. In every place we have lived we have been blessed with people who rooted for our marriage in the same way we rooted for theirs. Yet, I wonder if the fear of the messiness sometimes steered us at times to care more about the appearances of good marriages, than honestly doing the rewarding work it takes to build marriages God desires for us. Oh, that we would all become people who recognize we can through an "ezer knegdo" role encourage, aid, and support others in ways they can't do for themselves. And in that we can help one another build marriages that don't just last; they satisfy souls and reflect to the world the Father's heart towards us.

The "what I wish I knew when I first got married" leaves me curious about why I didn't discover the meaning of "helper suitable" earlier in life. But long ago I learned to trust God's wisdom and love and wonder if maybe He revealed these things to this gray-haired soul specifically at this time when so many people have such distorted views of our God and of the beauty of Christian marriages. I can't help but love how God's goodness always shines through His truth.   

  

When a Nation Grieves

Many years ago, my family attended a church for a year. There though we learned a lot about living out our faith. They taught us that our mission would be defined by several different things like our spiritual gifts, specific passions God places in our hearts, and by the natural talents God instilled in us as He created us. This week, as I watched in shock the assassination of Charlie Kirk, my heart felt a crushing blow for his young wife, his small children, and his parents. As my social media feed was flooded by clips of Charlie's videos and testimonies of people whom he had impacted, I realized he was a perfect example of what that church had taught us. 

Charlie and his wife Erika had a deep relationship with Christ. Their number one goal was to make heaven crowded by sharing their faith. Another goal they had was to challenge the direction of our country by going onto college campuses and engaging students in public civil discourse. He invited students to the mike, usually starting with those that disagreed vehemently with him and his beliefs. He was respectfully relentless with the truth on all sorts of topics. He encouraged students to learn critical thinking skills, to research the words they were spouting, but could not define. He was so gentle with the seekers, using compassion to avoid shaming them. Most importantly, He shared the gospel and the values of His God, telling students that godly marriage and raising children is good and honorable. In his last week he spoke of the senseless death of Irena Zarutska and in his last speech he, spoke of His God. 

In the aftermath, we have come to understand that Charlie and Erika had received many death threats, and they did not let that deter them from what they knew to be a calling of God on their lives. I believe Charlie's presence and willingness to face those that considered him an enemy resulted in many campuses having revivals in the last few years. And they faced any fear they may have experienced with such joy and light. We have been given a glimpse of his impact on the lives of many young people who are being emboldened to engage in political discussions and who are choosing to live out loud a faith that is settled on a Savior who redeemed them from their sin. In addition, we were given a glimpse of a young grieving wife and mother leaning into her God and her faith to stand firm in their calling.  

I have realized that the bullet, which was used to silence Charlie, was meant for us all and that feels a little scary. As a wife, mom and a grandmother, I don't just fear for myself, I fear for the people in my family that I love so deeply. So how can I reconcile the callings God has placed on our lives? That question has brought two passages to mind that encourage me. The first passage is Daniel 3, and the second passage is Hebrews 11.

In Daniel 3, King Nebuchadnezzar had a huge gold statue placed in Babylon and gave out this order, "You are commanded, O peoples, nations, and languages, that when you hear the sound of the horn, pipe, lyre, trigon, harp, bagpipe, and every kind of music, you are to fall down and worship the golden image that King Nebuchadnezzar had set up. And whoever does not fall down, and worship shall immediately be cast into a burning fiery furnace." 

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego replied to the king saying, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in the matter. If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up."  This is the kind of faith and mindset that we want to develop to live fully for Jesus in these days filled with hatred and violence. 

In this narrative, the king had had the furnace heated so high that the five men throwing the three friends in were instantly killed. But when the king looked into the furnace there was a fourth "man" in the furnace standing with them. The king then went to the door of the furnace and called them out and out the three came, not a hair singed, not a burn mark on their clothing, and no smell of smoke wafting from their bodies. And the king praised their God.  

The other passage is Hebrews 11, which is a chapter about men and women who had an abiding faith. I want to skip to the Hebrews 33-38, "who through faith conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight. Women received back their dead by resurrection. Some were tortured, refusing to accept release, so that they might rise again to a better life. Others suffered mocking and flogging, and even chains and imprisonment. They were stoned, they were sawn in two, they were killed with the sword. they were about in skins of sheep and goats, destitute, afflicted, mistreated--of whom the world was not worthy--wandering about in deserts and mountains and in dens and caves of the earth." 

It is so helpful to see that it wasn't just people who accomplished miraculous things for Jesus that were listed, but it was also those who suffered, were imprisoned, impoverished, and who were brutally martyred as well. It was hard not seeing our prayers for Charlie's life to be spared be answered. Yet we can rest assured that Charlie's faith mattered to our God and that in Charlie's death many people's faith will be matured. These verses tell us that no matter how God chooses to answer, what mattered to God was Charlie's faith. 

While we all fully understand that Jesus alone is the Savior, could it be that God is using Charlie's fearless preaching in the face of death threats coupled with Charlie's brutal death to stir the hearts of people to trust Jesus as their Savior and to cause us, who are believers, to live our faith more out loud just as Charlie and the men and women in Hebrews did? Let's unite with Erika in trying to make heaven crowded.

 

 

The Battles we Fight

On Sunday our church sang a song the music group Shane & Shane recorded called "You Have Already Won." There is a line in the song that always raises goosebumps of feels when I hear it. "I am fighting a battle that you have already won." This reaction is because it reminds me of one of the most important lessons I learned in my recovery from an eating disorder. To help you understand why it is so impactful for me, I need to describe a little bit of what my life was like living with an untreated eating disorder.

I started developing my eating disorder around the time I hit puberty, which was before eating disorders were being discussed. My disorder moved back and forth between anorexia, bulimia, and compulsive overeating. It also contained other components like compulsive exercise and self-contempt that ran to the core. It even included years of reading every new diet book that came out and labeling foods as either good or bad, and sadly the bad list grew to the point that my "ok" diet was very limited. Because the bad list was so big, consumption of foods on it created guilt and shame even if the food was perfectly healthy foods. That shame it ran deep and my thoughts about it were all my walking hours. During one of my anorexic phases I became so physically weak that I realized my heart muscle was probably being impacted and I frankly was tired of trying so I began to seek help. I eventually landed in a Christian therapist's office and found out that there were many layers to recovery. 

At times we worked on the root causes of my eating disorder and that lead me to work on some hard areas to deal with past events that had been traumatic and hurtful, allowing God and others into those areas that needed healing. We also looked at how the eating disorder served me, getting me to the place to understand that not only was it sinful, but it was also a maladaptive way of trying to protect myself from more trauma and from experiencing painful feelings of both the past and the present.  We also looked at how the disorder had impacted my relationships with God, myself, and others and began to picture what ways those relationships could be different. I could write whole books about the things I leaned in all of those areas, but what I want to focus on in this post is what I learned about fighting battles.

During the time I was in therapy, I often walked after my quiet time in the mornings. While walking, I would play worship music and pray. Some of those prayers were for others and some of those prayers were me processing with God the things we were working on in therapy. There was one morning I was struggling with the guilt and shame of believing I had blown it in some big way with food the night before, which could have been a binge or simply taking a bite of cookie not on my food plan. I was praying about my perceived failure and passed a lady I had never seen in my neighborhood.

After I passed her, I heard her yell out. I turned around, taking my earphones off and she said to me, "Girl, that battle you are fighting, your God has already won!" I know my mouth dropped open and she smiled and just waved me on.  

When I first started working with my therapist and dietician, the eating disorder behaviors were so automatic I didn't know what was behind them. I was so consumed by the disorder that I was surprised to hear others could go through the day planning meals, shopping for groceries, cooking, and eating without experiencing great amounts of anxiety, guilt, and shame. Over time it became apparent that to do some of the emotional trauma work I had to learn to pause the behaviors of the disorder to find out what emotions, triggers, and/or memories were underneath the strong drives.  

I was desperate because I wanted to be as close to God as I could be, but thought I had to get this all worked out to do so. My therapist began to plant the idea that God wanted me to call on Him for help, but in the moments, I felt the most tempted to use disorder behaviors I couldn't even think about Him. In one visit she suggested when I start struggling that I remove myself from the temptations and go outside and go for slow gentle walks, using my senses to notice things like flowers and smells and sounds. To be honest, I didn't think much of the idea, but luckily the suggestion made it into my brain. 

 

Not long after that, I was cooking dinner and resisting the temptation to start binging was so hard that I was shaking. I remembered her suggestion and turned off the stove and stepped outside to look for relief. I slowly started walking around the block, not realizing the connection of my outdoor walks to my prayer and worship life and soon found my mind was calmed enough that I could connect to God. I began praying, but they were not the prayers of asking for an instantaneous healing, they were desperate prayers of asking God to give me His power in my weakness to have victory over this single moment of temptation that felt bigger that the mountains surrounding the valley I live in. When I got home, I still had to face cooking dinner for my family and the temptations I was experiencing were crazy strong. Yet, I knew I was not alone in the moment and was determined to hold on tight to the Lord for the victory I desperately wanted. It was not until the next morning that the temptations had completely subsided, and I realized that I had been previously fighting battles in my own strength thinking Abba was far off because I was experiencing temptation. I now understood what the lady in the neighborhood meant and that it was in the battles I could grow closer to Abba. That closeness I gained came from a shared experience. 

That experience and that principle changed my healing journey. It took the shame out of admitting my weaknesses and my need for God's help. I called on God when adding an apple to an eating plan scared me so much, I cried. I called on God to help me forgive unforgiveable things others had done to me and the things I had done to myself to protect my disorder, and the things I had done to others. I called on God to help me face the emotions I thought would be too big and too deep for me to feel that needed to be felt and moved through to heal. I called on God to help me find the courage to confront things that needed to change, allowing Him to be a part of hard conversations I needed to have. I called on God when I needed to confront the self-contempt that ruled my life, driving my disorder. I called on God for the courage to allow God into the shameful places that needed to be healed and loved. I called on God to help me replace the lies I had believed about Him and myself that were so engrained they had been strongholds. I called on God, to find my voice to not only help myself, but others as well.

We can all recognize the battles between good and evil when they are big and see believers have guns held to their heads, while being ordered to renounce their faith. We probably recognize the battles being raged when we are witnessing to someone, and Satan is doing everything he can to blind him or her to the truth of who Jesus is. We may recognize the battles between good and evil when we see people calling lies truth and the truth lies. We recognize battles when people use lies to support their own agenda and those agendas are harmful to the most innocent or needy people. 

However, I am not sure that we understand our personal struggles or those struggles we see other's going though are also significant battles. How often we set time limits on each other to "get better" or to be cured.  And if it isn't in our timeline then they must not be repentant or be trying hard enough. I think sometimes in church circles we want Jesus to be "enough" so hard that we don't recognize the different things He might use in a person's life to bring about healing and that healing might look different than we think. It might even a lifetime of depending on God to get us through one temptation after another. 

I for one needed Jesus in the form of care givers to break through the layers of denial that eating disorders have. I needed personal conversations with them to sort out the misunderstandings I had of the God of the Scripture. I needed someone to walk with me though the dark places that were unknowingly impacting how I viewed God, myself, and life. And most of all I needed one brave woman I had never met to stop me and prophesy the truth that the battle I was fighting was already won.  

(2 Cor. 12:9, Ephesians 3:16, Phil. 4:13, Col. 1:1, I Peter 5:10)

       

  

 

Oh, Those Faithful Waiters

Our church recently started a study on the book of Luke. In the first two chapters there are three people mentioned that brought to mind a struggle I used to have with waiting. First, there was Zechariah who was a priest. Him and his wife Elizabeth were righteous in the sight of God and faithfully observed the Lord's commands and decrees. They were, in God's own words, very old and childless, which in those days carried great shame as people in their culture assumed being barren was a result of God withholding blessing from a couple because of sin. In spite of their childlessness and all that would come with that, they remained faithful for years and years. 

Second, there was a man named Simeon who was living in Jerusalem. He was waiting faithfully for the consolation of Israel. That would be the equivalent of believers like us living with an expectation and a longing for Jesus's return. Simeon was filled with the Holy Spirit, who had revealed to him that he would not die before he had seen the Messiah. 

Third, there a prophet named Anna. She, like Simeon and Zechariah, was very old. She had not had an easy life. She had the joy of getting married, but her husband had only lived for seven years after the wedding. She was a widow for eighty-four years and had never left the temple after he died. She was someone who worshipped night and day, and someone who fasted and prayed. Before I tell you more about these people, I want to tell you why I am so drawn to and in awe of them. 

For years I had struggled with the waits we all have in this Christian life we live. When I prayed for something, I could easily accept yes or no answers. But it was the waits that would cause me to spiral into a funk and I didn't know why. Then one night at our couple's Bible Study the pastor said that instead of our usual discussion he wanted to talk about waiting on God. After he opened us in prayer, he asked us what was hard about waiting. Everyone was giving great answers, but I couldn't identify what was so difficult about it for me. As he progressed through the Bible Study, he shared a verse from Psalms that says that God has His ear turned to those who wait on Him. I immediately blurted out that's it! The pastor asked what I meant. I told him, that whenever I prayed for something or discovered a promise that had a wait attached to it, I often felt unheard, overlooked, maybe even invisible. I am an extreme extrovert and as a young person if I made a request or asked for something and no one responded I believed I didn't matter enough for others to meet the needs and didn't matter enough to make the request more assertively. 

That night I realized that if God had His ears turned towards me in the waiting that it was an open invitation to keep asking. It was also an invitation to keep talking to Him until all the lies I had believed about Him or myself , had been replaced by truth. It was an invitation to keep talking until all the unbelief with which I struggled had been identified and replaced by a much deeper faith and until I had expressed to Him any pain experienced and let Him melt it away with the soothing balm of His perfect, extravagant love. I admit I haven't always been as faithful as Zechariah, Simeon, or Anna, but I am getting better at it. 

Let's look at the results of our faithful trio of waiters. In Zechariah's faithful waiting he got to meet an angel at the altar of incense. The angel told him he and his wife would have son named John who would bring great joy to them and be filled with the Holy Spirit while still in his mother's womb. John's job was going to be to call Israel to return to the Lord after 400 long years of silence and He would pave the way for our Jesus. Because of Zechariah's faithfulness, John, leapt in his mother's womb, immediately recognizing Jesus in Mary's womb. John wrote beautiful words, declaring that the God of Israel had visited and redeemed his people by raising up a horn of salvation for them and that they might be able to serve him without fear, in holiness and righteousness and that his son as a prophet would give knowledge of salvation to his people for the forgiveness of their sins. 

Simeon in his faithful waiting, was able to take Jesus into His arms and bless Him who he had been faithfully looking for, declaring that he would be able to depart this world in peace for he had seen with his own eyes God's salvation prepared in the presence of all people as a light for Gentiles and the gory of God's people the Israelites. 

And then sweet Anna, who as a widow faithfully served in the temple. She, like Simeon, was in the temple when they brought the baby Jesus for the purification ceremony and immediately recognized the Christ and gave thanks to God and began speaking of Him to all who were waiting for the redemption of Israel. declared for all to hear. 

And there are others we know who experienced long waits. Abraham and Sarah waited a long time for a child, Israel waited a long time for a land for His people, and the host of faithful people listed in Hebrews 11, many of which waited for God to save them. Some of them suffered and died in their waiting. They were tortured, refused to accept release, knowing in the resurrection they would have a better life. Some were stoned, some sawn in two, some killed by the sword, and some were destitute, afflicted, and mistreated. And God, Himself, commended their faith and declared that this world was not worthy of them and that they had been made perfect. 

It was important that I shared that not every faithful waiter has the same outcome in this life as Zechariah, Simeon, and Anna because so often we are a people who attempt to bargain with our God, believing that if we serve Him, if we attend church every week, if we have quiet times built into our lives, if we pray often enough, and a host of other religious activities that God is obligated to answer our prayers as we want him to. 

What if it is the waiting that purifies our faith and takes us from a people who are content with God's benefits to a people who are not satisfied by anything but Him?  That is what we see in the faithful waiters described at the end of Hebrews 11 of the people who were found faithful even unto death. 

     

Snapshots of Cindy Lou

We have lived in California for about 35 years. About 31 years ago we attended a small floundering church. It was there I met a really sweet lady named Cindy Jones. Her sweet family and mine went to church together until we all decided that it was time for this little church to close its doors. We went to a church on our side of town and the Jones went to a church across town near their home. Occasionally we came across Cindy's kids when our churches combined for youth activities. Then about twenty years ago, I was invited to give my testimony to a group of people in our church. I was surprised to find Cindy and her husband there. We visited a little after the class and I found Cindy to be the same sweet lady I had remembered when our children were young. I also found this longing to know Cindy better resurfacing, but we still went to different churches and both of our lives were full at the time, so I simply prayed for a connection to come about. A few years later after I had developed a healing ministry at my church Cindy joined our ranks ad served faithfully in our ministry for over ten years. 

Her daughter recently contacted me and told me her sweet mom was very ill and asked if I would ask her "tribe" of women to be praying for her and pray we did. Cindy was soon diagnosed with stage four cancer and put on hospice and quickly passed away. Her daughter asked people who had pictures of her to send them to her and when she asked, so many pictures of Cindy popped into my head that I thought I would have a bunch. Yet, when I went through my pictures, I only found two pictures. I was so confused, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense, because Cindy often chose to be a behind the scenes person. So, in this writing I thought I would paint a picture of Cindy through the snapshots that are in my mind. 

Cindy was an amazing woman of God who loved God's word and served in Bible Study Fellowship. Through conversations I had with her, I knew from the first time we met, that she was not only a student of the Word, but she was also a whole-hearted doer of the Word. This played out in so many ways. 

She and her husband Roger were married for 51 years and that's a whole lot of iron-sharpening-iron living. Even though I never once heard her speak evil of her husband, I know they traveled in groups that encouraged deep soul searching, transparent accountability, and extravagant grace giving. I suspect they learned early on to keep short accounts and to not let the sun set on their anger. The reason I believe this was true of them was because whenever I saw them together, I never sensed the unspoken tension that resides in marriages where either one or both hold grudges and/or struggle with forgiveness. 

Even though Cindy held several different types of jobs, all of which involved caring and serving others which she did so well. She was very creative wife and took great pride in her home and raised her family with what I would call a fierce love. When her kids were little, I remembered her being very loving and kind to them, but correcting them when needed. When things went well, she was right there with them and when things were difficult as they sometimes are for all of us, she leaned in and loved even more fiercely. She loved being a wife, a mom, and a grandma and loved nothing more than their family get togethers.

What I saw of Cindy in our ministry were snap shots of her as she showed a deep abiding compassion for both the ladies we serve and the ladies who served on our leader team. Her presence in ministry groups was calming, especially for women who had often lived with chaos as their compass. She could listen and listen and listen some more. And the stories she heard in groups she lead, were held close to her heart and in the strictest confidence. I never heard her gossip and never in this case really means never. 

Even though she had a quiet spirit, she also had an ability to speak truth into situations with both a bold sense of authority and a lavish grace that was beautifully blended. At our leader's retreats I can still see snap shots of her in so many different conversations with different ladies--the ones she knew well and the once's she barely knew but chose to get to know better. I saw her listening intently. I saw her empathiine big. I saw her speaking words of hope into many women's lives. I saw her praying over the women she spoke to. 

I was also a recipient of her love and encouragement. I am not sure she understood how valuable she was to me and to our leader team, but we all knew. At the retreats I got to see a few mom moments that I cherish so much. I got to see her beaming face as her daughter lead us in worship, as she created a beautiful pictures for craft time, or as she witnessed her using her voice to impart wisdom and truth to our group. As her husband shared at her memorial, Cindy was a prayer warrior. And I know I was on the receiving end of those power-filled prayers. 

There was only one little snag in our relationship...Cindy had a hearing problem, and I have an autoimmune disease that dries out my mouth and throat and makes it difficult for me to speak loudly without my voice hurting and cracking. Her children posted amazing tributes to their mom, which described her delight at being Mimi to her grandchildren. But her son shared something that spoke to my heart about our snag...In death Cindy was not afraid to join her Savior and that she is "whole once more and with her hearing restored, she hears the roar of Aslan. I haven't even seen that picture yet, but God has placed a living snapshot of it in my brain.  And it makes me smile. 

Context Always Matters

 A few years ago, I was in a Christian recovery group to gain support as I worked to overcome an eating disorder.  A guy, who was new to the Christian scene, started coming to group to deal with some issues.  One night as the pastor shared a devotional that included the gospel, the man blurted out, "That's crazy!" The pastor was not thrown by the gentleman's sudden outburst. He simply said something like, "Yes, God's love is crazy." He encouraged the man to express his thoughts and reactions freely, enabling him to understand exactly where the man was in his faith. I went home that night thinking of the times I, too, had found God's word confusing and had thought, "That's crazy." The first time it happened I was a ten-year-old who asked a Sunday male school who was teaching the class the Christmas story what a virgin was. I don't remember his answer, but I do remember his red face and discomfort with my question. 

Later on, I was a young mom when my husband and I were in an adult Sunday school class that was studying the Old Testament, and the circumcision of Abraham was discussed. I remember asking the teacher of that class why God would choose something like circumcision to be a sign of God's covenant to Abraham. Once again, I sensed great discomfort in the room at asking the question. And from that time the story of Abraham seemed to be a story that was shrouded in great mystery and the Bible continued to seem like a book with a bunch of disjointed stories in it.

But over the years, I have learned that context--the background and the culture--of the stories are what bring to light the continuity of the Scriptures and the rich truths contained in them. To explain what I mean, I will use Abraham's story, which when read out of context of culture and time period has some really crazy parts in it. When I was in the class as that young mom, I didn't know much about the culture Abraham and Sarah had grown up in. They came from the Ur of the Chaldees, which was a hot bed for polytheistic worship. One of the gods the region worshiped was a fertility god and acts of worship included sacrifices of children on alters. Just finding out these two things give a lot of clarity to their story.

When God introduces us to Abraham and Sarah, they are an old couple who had never been able to have children living in a society that placed a high value on fertility. It was in that state of infertility that God called them out of Ur and told them if they would relocate to a land He would provide, He would give them a child. They left Ur, believing God would provide them an heir. They didn't realize that God's plan for them included a season of waiting, which when one is already elderly did not make sense. In their waiting Abraham and Sarah had few lapses of faith, in which Sarah and Abraham began to try to figure out how to make God's promise come true. First, they thought it might be a young relative traveling with them and God said, "NO!" Then later Sarah offered Abraham her handmaiden so she could birth a child for them as was customary in those days. This complicated their lives, the lives of the child and his mother, and the generations that came after them. God visited them again and renewed His promise to Abraham and Sarah. Sarah laughed. Maybe she laughed at the absurdity of having a baby long after her menses had ceased or maybe she laughed because she had already waited so long, and nothing happened. Yet, God gave her grace and reiterated His promise as He challenged her laughter. And within the year she birthed a boy she delightfully named "Laughter" -- a reminder of both her unbelief and her joy that came through God's faithfulness.  

I understood the promise of the Messiah coming through the Abrahamic covenant a long time ago. But the question on my mind was, why did the Lord wait so long to give them a child? I wrestled with the question and overtime I came to believe that the answer lied in the context--the backdrop of their story. After the fall, people had moved away from the living God and had created many gods of their own and they offered sacrifices to those idols in an effort to gain things or to quench the anger of the gods when blessings were withheld. God, in His mercy, called Abraham and Sarah out of Ur to reveal to them the truth that He and He alone is the living God, the author of all life. By delaying Sarah's childbearing to a time that she was reproductively dead He was able to reveal to her and Abraham that He alone had the power to create life. And when we understand the details of their story it doesn't seem so odd that God would choose circumcision to be a sign of His covenant with Abraham. For with circumcision, Abraham was reminded every time he and Sarah were intimate that God is not only a covenant keeping God, and He is a life-giving God, 

The context, the backdrop of their story, also takes the mystery and confusion out of God telling Abraham to sacrifice Isaac. I understood early on the testing of Abraham's faith, but I struggled with the why of it. Going back to the polytheistic religions Abraham and Sarah left, I came to believe God was giving Abraham a physical spiritual lesson by asking Abraham to do something with which he was familiar as child sacrifices were offered in his homeland. But the beauty of it was how God stopped him and provided him a lamb to sacrifice, pointing to Jesus who would be the ultimate sacrifice for us all. God introduced Abraham to grace by showing Him that His wrath for sin would be dissolved through the sacrifice He himself provided. Abraham and Sarah would be able to rest joyfully in God's promises and grace, not fearfully sacrificing their child to appease angry stone gods or to gain favor to have a long-longed for child. I love how God used the known to reveal what was not known to them.

Context often answers the questions of why about the stories written in a different time and a different culture. I can't help but wonder, if we miss some of the life lessons God might be trying to teach us by ignoring the context of our own stories--stories that He is penning. I also wonder if sometimes we might misapply what God says in one situation by not understanding the context of His direction. I love that we have a relationship with a God who walks with us, bringing to life His truth and grace through life lessons, which we can test against His written word. When the stories He tells in His Word or the events of our own lives seem disjointed and confusing, we would do well to remember that context always matters.          

         

The Gift of Friendships

 This summer our church is doing a sermon series on topics from the book of Proverbs. One of the sermons was on the wisdom of having Godly friendships. Ironically at the time of this sermon one of my dearest friends is in the process of moving. We have chosen to lean into change this will bring to not only us, but to the many who call her friend. Not only has she been a friend, but she has also been a partner in the ministry that we serve in together. We recently had a going away party and I am going to share some of the thoughts I shared with her at that party. Her name is Tanna and I started by sharing adjectives for the letters of her name

T -- tactful, talented, thoughtful, trustworthy, tenacious

A -- admirable, ambitious, affectionate, adventurous

N -- natty, natural, nectarous, neighborly, nurturer

N -- noteworthy, noble, nourisher, nice, nifty

A -- altruistic, approachable, amiable, amazing, awesome

The emotions I have felt about Tanna leaving have been big. I am experiencing a big sadness that there will be so much physical space between us, that her face won't be seen at our Monday night groups, Sad that coffee and lunch dates will be so far apart, that our plans of a long-term partnership in ministry have ultimately been changed by our good and loving Abba.  

I am experiencing a big anger that the timing of her move is out of my hands as it should be. For we both truly want to follow hard after our God. 

I am experiencing big anxiety for her and all the new she will experience and anxiety for me as I have come to rely heavily on her wisdom, stability, encouragement, and ability to see things my emotions sometimes keep me from seeing accurately, and her validation of the things I sense and the emotions that at times still feel crazy to me. 

I am experiencing big fear that her new people at first might not recognize all the beauty, wisdom, and intelligence she brings to the table, which I know doesn't make sense cause those attributes are so pronounced in her. I also am experiencing fear in wondering if I can keep doing what I do with this huge gaping hole her absence will create in our beautiful ministry "family." 

Over the last few weeks, the most dominate emotions that keeps bubbling to the surface is gratitude. 

Gratitude that we have gotten to be in each other's lives for the last 16 years. Because of this I have had the privilege of watching her grow from a a young lady who could barely make eye contact and who often shook her head "NO," as if she didn't believe her own words to the confident princess-warrior she is now. She continues daily to fight for her own growth, her family's growth, and the growth of every woman who has been in one of her groups or who has simply crossed her path as friends.

Gratitude that she and God allowed me to be her prayer director as she walked through a healing prayer. It allowed me to hear more of her story and enabled me to recognize the miraculous growth God has done in her life. 

Gratitude for her sweet friendship and encouraging words and patience big enough to hear the same stories over and over when events trigger that pesky old stuff. Gratitude for the many times you have seen attitudes or heard things said with a sting and quietly and unassumingly let me know you saw it and reminded me it wasn't something I made up in my head, but a heart issue in another's soul.     

Gratitude that Tanna have been such an excellent sounding board for meeting and retreat prep, for writing that felt so vulnerable that it needed to be said out loud, and a willingness to listen to my blog posts, especially the most prophetic ones or the more vulnerable ones that tell more of my story to the world, as those felt a bit too scary to post.

Gratitude that her partnership in ministry changed from me being her mentor to having a mutual friend who became as a friend and cheerleader to our other ministry leaders. Gratitude that she has always be able to readily see others' strengths and point out how they can best fit into the ministry we do. Gratitude that she can see past all of our weaknesses and see where God is taking us. Gratitude that many have found her to be a safe person and that she has been so proactive in building relationships and offering rich encouragement to our team.

The things I desire for Tanny are many. I desire she go in the adventurous spirit of God's princess-warrior to wherever God leads her. I desire for her to be brave even when she might feel scared, unsure, confused, or invalidated, I desire for her to continue to use her beautiful strong voice to bring healing truth to the lives of women she has yet to meet. I desire for her to foster the same types of friendships in her new location that she fostered here--cause those ladies need Jesus with skin on, too. I desire for her to continue to look to our great God for help as she has been doing. I desire for her to continue doing the hard work of fostering healthy relationships with her family because that is what bondage breakers do.

Lastly, I most strongly desire her to continue to shine ever so bright as spending time with Tanna has been spending time with Jeus with skin on. As I have watched her navigate this move, I have seen her lean in to the hard with a willingness to experience both the big painful and the sweet joyful emotions. I have seen her align her thinking with God's truth, and because of that she has represented her Abba well.

So, Tanna girl, continue to grow and continue to represent Jesus well and you will do for others what you have done so well for us. You were one of the most surprising gifts God gave me in a move I drug my feet on.      

   

Love One Another

"This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you."

John 15:12

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. 

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.

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. 

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.  

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.

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. 

(Adapted from Glimpses of God 11, Loving from a Pure Heart, by Wendy J. Mahill and Nancy Keller, Xulon Press) 

Acceptance the Road to Perseverance

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. 

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.  

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. 

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. 

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." 

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. 

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.   

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. 

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.

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! 

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.         

   

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Oh, Those Pesky Birthdays

 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.  

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.   

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. 

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. 

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. 

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.

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?

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.

  

Houston, we have a Humanitarian Problem

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. 

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.

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. 

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.

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. 

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.  

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."  

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.

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. 

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. 

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?  

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. 

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. 

Just Trying Harder No More

I've been pondering something for the last six weeks or so. I could not remember a time that just try harder 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. 

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. 

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. 

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.

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?

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!

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.  

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

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. 

But this gal is just trying harder no more, I am training and practicing.

Messy Churches are Growing Churches

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. 

Many years later, I read Mike Yaconelli's Messy Spirituality: God's Annoying Love for Imperfect People, 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. 

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.

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.  

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. 

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. 

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! 

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.