Living in the Ampersand

Several years ago, I was involved in a ministry that asked me to write for them. At the time, the ministry had a gal in it who had a communications background. She and I sat down and went over some things I wrote and she pointed out some things I did. For example, when I started a note of appreciation with something like, I just want to tell you..., it sounded like I wanted to tell someone something, but may or may not tell them. I also used words like that, just, and really repetitively. In addition, I often softened my opinions and thoughts with the words, I feel...., when in actuality what I was saying wasn't a feeling at all. It was a thought or an opinion I was afraid to own. 

After I entered counseling, I realized I used words in ways that influenced my feelings and belied the fact that I had personal power and could make personal choices that would help me develop a happier state of mind. Some of the words I used often were, I have to, I can't...., or I must. I learned to reframe those kinds of phrases with phrases that expressed the choices I did have and found I felt more powerful and less stressed. I realized I could fully own the decisions I made and I felt more content with them. So, over time, I must became I desire to or I want to. I can't became I won't. I have to became my goal (desire) is to. 

A couple of years ago, a sweet friend of mine gave me an ampersand that sits on my desk where I can see it. The ampersand has special meaning in the counseling world and recently I realized it has become quite a popular cultural symbol. Some people get tattoos of it and others buy one and use it as a decoration. Right now they come in all sorts of colors and mediums--wood, plastic, clay, and metal.

Over the last few weeks I've been contemplating how the ampersand has impacted my life. As a child, I developed a Black-and-White way of thinking, which impacted just about every area of my life. It impacted my relationship with God, but I was too full of shame over the questions and confusion that arose out of that thinking to discuss them with others. You know, the questions that roll around in the mind about God and His goodness, His power, and His will in the face of great suffering. The Black-and-White Thinking also carried over into my relationships with others. People were either all good or all bad. They could be good for a while and then become bad when they hurt me. That thinking also carried over into how I viewed myself and my recovery from an eating disorder. One slip with an eating disordered behavior and I was a total loser, failure, defective person--even though I had made it through weeks without using an unhealthy behavior. It carried over into how I viewed life. Life was either really good when it was easy or it was really bad when I was going through something hard.  

In recovery, I began to realize things really aren't so Black and White! By that I don't mean I don't view sin as sin, I mean that I don't view things as all good or all bad. The word that I first began to use in my head was, "But." It came in the form of things like "My friend is suffering, but God is still good." "My husband hurt my feelings, but I find I still love him." "I ate a cookie and feel like a failure, but I am still a child of God." "This trial is really tough, but I hope to grow through it." I realized for me the word "but" is a bit of an expression of resistance and a little bit of protest and left me feeling unsettled. That may not be true for everyone but it was for me. 

It was okay for a season, but I wasn't content to live in the “buts.” I wanted more. To get the more I often had to journal and talk about the “buts.” The first time I did it I wanted desperately to forgive an abuser. I started out writing:

I forgive_________for__________, but they hurt me. I simply repeated the exercise over and over until I had run out of buts! I hate to admit it, but it was quite a long list! In that exercise I went from wishing I could forgive to being able to say "The abuser hurt me, but I forgave him." 

That was okay at the time, but to be honest it still didn't feel finished. It felt I was forgiving because I had to, but reserving the right to protest a little that it happened. It felt like I was forgiving, because I wanted to minimize the impact that it had on me. It also felt like I was forgiving, because I wanted others to think I was okay. As I am writing now, I glanced at the ampersand on my desk and I find myself smiling because I realize over time the something more I wanted was found in the "and!". When I say my abuser hurt me and I forgave him I feel this sense of peace wash over me. The "and" means to me that two things are equally true. The "and" doesn't minimize either truth and for some reason, for me, the "and" doesn't minimize the feelings on either side of it. The "and" is like a picket fence that allows me to see the past and not be controlled by it!!!

The "and" has helped me view God, the gospel, and redemption more accurately. Jesus is all powerful and Jesus is meek. Jesus is the Lion of Judah and Jesus is the Lamb of God. Jesus is merciful and Jesus is just. Jesus is God and spoke the universe into being and Jesus became a man rubbing shoulders with His creation. Jesus spoke and His words pricked stubborn hearts, calmed turbulent seas, cast out demons, healed broken bodies, forgave sin, caused soldiers to fall back and Jesus remained silent in the face of illegal trials to lay down His life for us. 

The center stage of the gospel is at the cross. It was the place where His holiness shone the brightest and it was a place where man's sin was its ugliest. It was the place where man's hatred screamed loudest and it was the place where God's love was most fully demonstrated. It was the place where sin in all of its ugliness was imputed to Jesus and it was the place where His goodness in all of its beauty was imputed to us. It was the place that resulted in death and it was a place that resulted in eternal life. Jesus was God and Jesus was man. Jesus died and Jesus was raised. 

Ah! Those "ands"--they even trickle down to me. I am a sinner and I am saved by grace through faith. I was an enemy of God and I am now His child seated at His table. I was in bondage to sin and I am now a bond servant to the living God. I was wounded and I am continuously being healed by the Wounded Healer. 

The ampersand--it seemed to remove the shame I experienced over being human and the shame I felt for being in the throes of living a redemption story that in the beginning was characterized by sin, woundedness, and fear. It seemed to relieve the shame I bore for living with both the flesh that craves to do wrong and the spirit that desperately wants to live victoriously close to God. It also relieved the shame of having believed I was too much, not enough, and unworthy of being loved and being captured by His love that ran deeper than the deepest wounds in my heart. I still believe the "but" was an important step of my journey, but I like living in the ampersand where two seemingly conflicting truths can co-exist and can open my heart more fully so I can trust God who is bigger and more complex than my mind can grasp and who loves with a love so deep my heart will never be able to fully comprehend it in this life I am living. 

Christ's Compassion in the Face of Shame

It was a warm day and Jesus and His disciples were walking through a crowd. A rich religious leader abruptly pushed through the crowd, falling at Jesus' feet, imploring Him to come heal his dying twelve-year-old daughter. Jesus knew the man risked his position, his power, and his influence in the community by coming to Him. The desperate dad, risked it all and Jesus agreed to go. As they headed towards his home the crowd pressed in and a woman who had been ill for as long as the man had been a dad came near. She wanted to see The Christ and in her desperate state forgot she, an unclean woman, wasn't supposed to be near others and wasn't supposed to interrupt a leader's hope for a miracle.   

She was as pale as pale could be with shades of gray circling her lifeless eyes. She had been bleeding for twelve years--years that felt like an eternity. She had spent all she had on doctors who didn't have the power or knowledge to heal her and she was left destitute with no choice but to live life as a beggar. According to Jewish law, she was ceremoniously unclean and she lived isolated. She couldn't do things we take for granted. She couldn't go to church, shop in the market, ask for a hug, have sex with a spouse, or bear children. She couldn't care for a home as everything she touched became unclean. She couldn't visit with friends or invite company to dinner. She was physically weak, listless, and tired, and left to deal with a heap of emotions common to the chronically ill--emotions like discouragement, despair, loneliness, confusion, and shame--shame that was born from being unable to function, unable to do the things women do, unable to engage in the social life of her community, and unable to join in public worship in the outer court. Shame that came from the belief that suffering is always due to sin that is hidden.  

           

When she saw that Jesus was heading to the leader's house, she was desperate to get as close as she could. As she drew closer, she was overwhelmed with the thought, "If only I can just touch His garment,.." She mustered up the energy to squeeze through the crowd, pressing closer and closer. Trembling, in fear and with a remanent of hope igniting within her, she stretched and stretched and stretched and hoped and hoped and hoped. She was stretching with the ache of longing for a dozen years until she touched His hem. And the loneliness running deep subsided in the single act of connection. And the senseless flow of  blood stopped and her pale cheeks glowed healthy. She straightened as the cramping dissipated and strength flowed from the top of her head to her tippy toes. Fatigue faded as Christ's as the realization that His power stopped the life flowing out of her, making her uncleanliness clean once again. 

Feeling unworthy, she turned to slip away, but He scanned the crowd, asking, "Who touched Me?" Fearfully she wanted to flee, but the healing gave her the courage to own what she had become done. After she finished speaking, she expected to be reproved and treated with the same disdain with which she had become familiar. But He looked at her with eyes full of compassion, and tenderly spoke, "Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace, and be well." When she heard the tenderness in His voice and the endearing term "daughter" she found the courage to lift her eyes and look into His, finding there both the love and the acceptance she craved. 

It was Christ’s compassion that compelled Him to give physical life to her body slowly dying. It was His compassion that caused Him to call her out. For, in the asking, He was inviting her to move out of shame to live in the light. He was also inviting her to a face-to-face encounter so she could experience acceptance and restoration. His love expressed in the word "Daughter" went straight to the heart, healing the shame born out of being unclean. It was that same word that healed the pain of loneliness she had endured for twelve years. She had come hoping for a miracle, but He gave her something more--He gave her relational connection that melted away her shame.  

It is interesting to note that the man came to Jesus both boldly and publicly to plea for his daughter's life while she came quietly and secretly, wanting to live. He was wealthy; she was destitute. He was a religious leader, she was rejected and declared unclean. His family was well respected, she was rejected and isolated. He faced the possible loss of a daughter. She had been facing death physically, emotionally, relationally, and spiritually since her illness began. Though their circumstances differed, they both came to Him in the midst of the hard, confessing their desperate needs. 

While we may not suffer with her physical ailment, we have the same shame sinking its talons into us--shame because we aren't the perfect Christians, wives, mom's, and employees we pretend to be. Shame that we aren't the perfect size, with perfectly manicured nails, and perfect skin. Shame that we don't always sing on pitch, don't always paint our pictures perfect, don't always dance perfectly to the beat, and do not cook perfect meals like a top chef. Shame that our bodies tire, that we leave tasks undone, and fail to show up to commitments on time. Shame that we get sick, and can't be what everyone wants us to be. Shame that we, at times, relate in ways that deeply wound those we love most. Shame that we have everything we could ever need, yet often feel dissatisfied and discontent. Shame that we, at times, feel both unloved and unloveable while at the same time knowing we so often fail to love well. Shame over the sin we hide, the idols we cling to, and the thoughts we are thankful no one can see. And then there is that persistent thought that maybe, just maybe we really are beyond redeeming. 

But, Jesus! He knows! He is calling each of us out and reminding us grace given depends on the Giver, not us the recipients. He is constantly inviting us to come out of shame and live by faith. And it is by faith we were saved and by faith we are growing in Him. It is by grace that we are called His, "Chosen," "Beloved," "Redeemed," "Reconciled," "Daughters." Because His love is outrageous we can know that His compassion is limitless and His grace sufficient.   

Shame and Unquenchable Thirst

When I began dealing with pain of my past, I came face to face with a core of shame that ran deep, That core explained why, as a believer, I had struggled with the desperate desire to experience deep connection with God while, at the same time, trying to hide parts of myself from Him. I knew I believed and belonged to Him, but I was plagued with fear that if He really knew me He would realize what a mistake it was to extend grace to a mess like me. I had a lot of knowledge about God and could always believe His promises for others, but often wondered if He could or would fulfill them for me and in me. This fear and doubt stemmed from that core of shame that had taken root from an early age. The core that led me to believe I was a bunch of  "toos"-- --too dirty, too bad, too stupid, too needy, too messy, too weak, too defective, too invisible, and too inadequate, each "too" hidden by a great big smile. It also left me wondering if I could be loved the way I knew God loves others. Over the next few weeks I want to share some of how I began to heal shame that is no longer mine to claim.

First, I found someone safe to share about the things that caused my shame to take root. I learned to recognize and acknowledged it as well as the lies that formed its roots. Next, I began to believe there was value in stories--both His story and mine and the relationship between the two. As I did that I began to view my story as a redemption story instead of resenting that it wasn't a perfect fairy tale. That helped me begin to accept both the positive and the negative I had lived. It helped me accept both my weaknesses and strengths and to embrace a life made messy by being in the process of sanctification instead of striving for perfection. I became more comfortable with the confusion of living in a fallen world while I desperately longed for the beauty of heaven untouched by sin. I began to believe that the hard wasn't an indication of a lack of power or love on Jesus' part any more that it was proof that I was beyond redemption.

I also developed a strong curiosity about how God relates to His people and began reading about His encounters with people in both the Old and New Testaments. I read more carefully and meditated on the stories, penning questions and thoughts as I went. I realized people in the Bible were not super heroes, they were simple humans like me--humans that sinned, humans that felt, humans that struggled. So, I tried to put myself in their shoes so I could connect with their stories at a heart level. My view of God and my relationship with Him began to evolve from a fear base to a love based one.

Over the next few weeks I will share what I learned from some of the stories. The first story is found in John 4. It's the story of Christ's encounter with a Samaritan woman. I learned Jewish leaders at that time avoided Samaria because they despised the mixed race that had grown out of the Assyrian captivity, But, Jesus! He wasn't like other religious leaders. He entered Samaria and stopped beside a well to rest because He knew a very thirsty soul was in need. He watched as one lone woman approach the well during the hottest part of day--a time in which she could avoid others who came to draw water as well. I imagine her approaching the well with purpose in her step, hoping to get her water and quickly leave. I also imagine her growing more cautious as she realized He was sitting there.

He surprised her when He asked her to give Him a drink and she responded by pointing out the obvious culture breaches, knowing full well He, as a Jew, would not want to drink from the vessel of an unclean, Samaritan woman like her. Surprisingly He continues to respectfully dialogue with her, pointing out that she didn't know who He was, didn't know that He was offering her living water, and that she didn't understand how she could receive it. I love that Jesus never memorized a script. He presented truth in terms familiar to each. He knew she came to the well physically thirsty and He used that thirst to expose deeper thirsts of her heart. She tried to keep the conversation where it felt safe, so it didn't stir up painful longings, didn't expose her unmet needs, and allowed her to keep her secrets well hidden.

But He knew! He knew He had what she needed most. So, He continued to steer the conversation to the real and to the spiritual. He asked her to bring her husband. It seemed like an odd request, but I imagine with her history her eyes dropped and her voice either softened or bristled depending on which contempt she used to silence her shame.

But He knew that the truth she needed to face was in the words she didn't speak and He used that truth to draw the surface her painful, unrequited thirsts of the soul. He gently acknowledged she was right in saying she didn't have a husband, and let her know she had five husbands and was now living with a man to whom she wasn't married.

He knew! He knew that a woman married five times was looking for someone to fill soul-thirst. But each marriage she entered was like drinking caffeinated drinks to dowse physical thirst. No man, could meet all the unmet needs of childhood and the failed marriages before him.

He knew! He knew that she was living with a heart deeply wounded by the humiliation and shame of rejection that comes with being drug to the town and declared an unfit wife. He knew with each rejection she suffered, her soul had grown more thirsty. He knew with each rejection, parts of her heart grew calloused. He knew with each rejection the belief that she wasn't enough dug itself deeper into the core of her being, causing her to doubt but unable to totally kill the longings. He knew she was a woman whose physical, emotional, relational, and spiritual needs were crying out to be met and He saw her and He heard the cries of her heart.

Through the discourse, her knowledge of Him grew from being a  Jew, to a prophet, to the Messiah. And the words He said to her had to be balm to a thirsty soul: "Believe me, woman, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem...Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks." I can't imagine the power those words held for her. By those words He included her and told her she is sought by the Father--she, the woman, the Samaritan, the ostracized, the defective, the inadequate, the unloved, the invisible, the abandoned is being sought by Jehovah.  

Her encounter with Jesus changed her. She left her water jar in the dust, going to the very people she avoided by her noontime water runs. She told them about Jesus and invited them to come and see for themselves if He was the Messiah. The painful hard the woman had endured and the painful hard the community experienced as a mixed-race culture, rejected and scorned, had given them a soul thirst so deep they knew only the Messiah could quench it. Many of the Samaritans of that community came to know Jesus was the Savior of the world!

There is never a thirst so deep Jesus can't fill it, but we often have to come to the end of ourselves to fully believe and embrace this truth. I also know there is never a shame that can run so deep that the Spirit of God and His truth can't dissolve it, replacing it with pure joy. For when the King of kings seeks us and then meets us by the wells we have dug in an attempt to quench our parched souls, we can finally drop all the pesky "toos" and know that by His blood we have been accepted, made whole, and declared good enough.

Do You Believe Me?

“Can any of you prove me guilty of sin?

If I am telling you the truth why don’t you believe me?”

John 8:46

A few years ago we baby sat a 7-month-old chocolate lab for one of our sons. She was a precious dog because she had a sensitive conscience. When we were gone for awhile and then came home, she would respond one of two ways. If she had been good, she would run to us and jumps up on us, putting her front paws on either side of our waists for hugs. It was a literal hug--we know this because when she saw my husband and I hug she pushed us apart and “hugged” each of us! If she had behaved badly, by unrolling a roll of toilet paper, dumping a trash over, or chewing on a shoe she would head to the back door when we walked in the front door with tail between her legs. She looked so pitiful with her head down. I have known people who had the same kind of conscience Hazel did. No one has to confront them, because they tell on themselves. I have also known a couple of people who were caught in sin and so guilty, but they could throw out words like the verse above and challenge any one who didn’t believe their lies. The above verse was spoken by Christ who invited people to examine His life to be He is who He says He is — both God and man.

Look at the first part of the statement. Christ invited the crowds who were against Him to prove Him guilty of sin? I don’t know about you, but the idea of saying that to someone causes me to cringe. Others would not have to try hard to find the sin in my life. If they followed me around, they could see just how often my motives are selfish. They would not have to wait long to hear an unkind word or gossip slip out of my mouth. They would not have to wait too long to see that I spend more time seeking love rather than giving it freely. They would not have to talk to me for long before some hint of a disrespectful attitude or doubtful spirit surfaced.

On the other hand, think about Christ who was perfect. Nothing He did was wrong. He never had to apologize for His actions or words. He did the right thing every time at the right time. There was not a word that came out of His mouth that was rude, crude, untruthful, slanderous, or backbiting. He never had to apologize for a word hastily spoken in anger and never had to feel the sting of regretting words he could not retract. He never related to others in sinful ways. He always loved them and treated even the most sinful and sick with dignity and respect. He was gentle and kind and went out of His way to offer forgiveness. Even though He spoke strongly to the Pharisees, He was forthright and had the authority to confront them because they were religious leaders who were keeping others in bondage with their burdensome rules. As a man, He never touched or looked at woman in a way that and made her feel uncomfortable or used. He showed women affection without any impropriety. He never had to confess adultery or lust. He never lashed out in anger. He never had to be thankful no one could read His thoughts. He never had to confess sin. He never had to ask forgiveness for breaking a promise or doing something late. He continued to persevere in love in the face of misunderstanding, face of slander being hurled at Him. He loved those who denied and betrayed Him. He loved in the face of hatred, facing His own death with courage. He laid down His life so He could reconcile us to the Father.

Since no one could prove Him guilty of sin, it is odd that sometimes we have difficulty believing His word. Think of some of His promises and invitations. Come boldly to throne of grace in your time of need.” How often do we wait because we are ashamed and we come timidly with our head hung down like our dog did? When I read the words “come boldly” I think of a little child who has been nurtured and is so confident in his parents’ love that no matter what he does he runs to them expecting acceptance and joy on his arrival. I knew a student that could not believe someone would not rejoice over him and everything he did. I always wondered if how I perceived him was accurate and if he knew he came across that way. Then when he shared his testimony he said that he thought He was the coolest person before he came to know the Lord and learned to recognize his sin. He shared that after coming to know Jesus, he knew he wasn't so cool, but He was loved sacrificially by God. We can approach God with that kind of confidence only when we are humble enough to recognize it is because of what Jesus did that we have access to Him. He meets us where we are at, not because we are “cool” but because He is faithful to His promises.

I have a really hard time wrapping my mind around Christ’s perfection. I don’t know how to even describe it. But, I know it helps me believe what He says in His word. I know He will never leave me or forsake me, because He doesn’t lie. He forgives me, because He said it is finished as He died in my place on the cross. I believe Him when He says I am a work in progress and He is not finished with me yet, because He is faithful. I believe Him when He says He delights in me and sings joyful songs over me!

I am thankful the sinless One took on my sin and died in my place, bearing the Father’s wrath for me. His actions tell me I am worth dying for. Have you examined His life through the gospels? Do you believe He is who He said He is? Do you rest in His great love and offer Him a sacrifice of praise? If you doubt, it is okay…examine the Word and allow it to strengthen your faith! He is trustworthy and true!

Prayer: Father we praise You for You holiness. We praise you because no word You spoke was ever
spoken in haste…always timely and appropriate. We praise You as the sinless one who loved in through Your actions and in the ways You related. You were bold in your love and in the way you confronted sin. By comparison we are sinful and rely solely on your grace. Thank you for taking our shame and giving us your righteousness. Please help us reflect your character. Thank You for the promise of completing what you have begun in us. Amen.