Will the Real Prodigals Please Stand Up -- Part II

"It was fitting to celebrate and be glad,

for this your brother was dead, and is alive:

he was lost, and is found."

Luke 15:32



I recently had the privilege of reconnecting with my uncle after many years. He was still living at home with my grandparents when the first of us grandchildren came on the scene. My folks lived out in the country and we came to town for our check ups and vaccinations. My uncle said on one of those trips  that my brother received a shot in his rear and was quite upset about it. He also said that I tended to have a lot of jealousy and I piped up after my brother complained of the pain he was experiencing,  "Well, my bottom hurts worse than your bottom."

We laughed when he told us the story, but when I came home I thought back to my preschool years. I remembered being jealous and comparing my life with that of my siblings. If their shoes wore out, I thought I should get new shoes as well. They both had dark hair and I had blond at the time and was frustrated by that. I even remembered trying to count the number of spankings we each had gotten. I was sure I got more than either one of them did, but when I said that to my mom, she told me that was far from the truth because they could just say my name and I toed the line. I don't fully understand what drove me to make the comparisons and to feel slighted so early in life. But I do know that sibling rivalry has been around since the fall, beginning with Adam and Eve's kids. Reading through the old testament we can see it happened over and over and over.

Because God is a relational God, there is a familial spiritual bond among believers and plenty of jealousy. That familial connection may have been why Jesus chose to tell the religious leaders a parable of two brothers to make His point when the religious leaders resented His relationships with the publicans, the tax collectors, the ill, the demon possessed, and those that were counted as sinners.

In Part I we looked at the first part of the parable that concerned the prodigal who left home, squandered his inheritance on immoral living, and eventually ended up slopping pigs for a living. While slopping pigs, he realized they were eating better than he was, spurring a longing for home. And home he went, humbly asking for the position of a servant, only to be met with a warm welcome and restored to the position of a chosen son.

In this latter part of the parable, the older brother comes in from the fields to hear the sounds of a great celebration taking place. He calls one of the servants over and asks what the celebration is about. The servant tells him that his younger brother had returned safe and sound. I think these words reflect the servant's understanding of the father's heart who had scanned the horizon, hoping for the return of his son. The older son becomes angry and refuses to go in.

The first time I read this story, I thought maybe his anger was out of a protectiveness of his father who was obviously hurt by the child that left home in that manner. But when the father came out and talked to the son, we get a clearer picture of the state of the older son's heart. He is angry because the son who left and squandered the inheritance and lived an immoral life style is being celebrated and he wasn't. He reminds his father of how He stayed and of all the work he has done for him and ends his statement with a complaint that no party had ever been thrown for him. 

Man, I sort of wish he were angry because of his loyalty to his father. For, I am a loyal person and I could relate to that and it would still look sort of righteous. But, I must confess that I do relate to the brother because of his comparisons of his life to his brothers. I relate to his judgments. I wish I could say I didn't, but I can't. There have been times I have worked my heart out, and not been given the accolades I hoped for, only to have someone new come along and do one one project and receive all sorts of praise for what they did. I resented it a little, maybe even a lot.

For a long time I even prided myself on being a nonjudgmental person. But then at some point, a sweet Christian lady said to me, "We all make judgments, Wendy, every single day. Sometimes the judgments help us make good decisions and sometimes they don't and they are sinful." I was uncomfortable with her statement so I paid close attention to the thoughts that run through my head for a few weeks, hoping to prove her wrong.

After a few weeks I came to the conclusion that what she said was true, especially in regard to myself. I made judgments about food when I classified them as good and bad.

I made judgments about clothing. Sometimes those judgments were appropriate and helped me buy modest pretty clothes and sometimes I ended up judging a person's heart by what they were wearing.

I judged myself harshly for having normal feelings and for being human, not perfect. And I found that frequently I called myself very negative judgmental words--words like stupid idiot and dumb.

Walking through stores, I found myself judging women by their clothing, their size, the cleavage they showed, the kinds of tattoos adorning their arms, and their hair styles.

I judged parents by how they handled their children in public. That one bothered me because I was a mom of five kids in eight years and I know first hand the facts. One day they could be perfectly behaved and people would compliment me. Then the very next cat I was paying for the chocolate bar snatched and eaten when I wasn't looking, hiding in clothing racks and scaring people, and constantly begging for something not on the shopping list...and I at times was that parent impatiently berating a screaming toddler, more concerned about what others thought than about the heart of my child.

I also judged a homeless person without even knowing his story. I stepped around him and looked away not even giving him the dignity of a smile or eye contact that every human craves.

I judged someone's words without even letting them finish their statements, something I hate done to me.

It grieved my heart to find myself to be exactly what I prided myself in not being. To put it bluntly, there was a whole lot more Pharisee in me than I ever wanted to admit. But to face the truth and pay attention to my thoughts instead of pushing them aside had its rewards. It helped me to move towards a purer humility and helped me come to grips with my daily need for God's mercy and grace. It helped me realize there was the potential to see the face of God in every one of His image bearers -- even those I once thought the most unlikely.

I looked back on my life and realized I often chose the churches I attended by how at home I felt. By that, I don't mean they were extra friendly. I mean that most of the people looked just like me, had the same educational back ground I had,  believed most of the same doctrines I believed, dressed like me, and acted a whole kit like I act.

Around the time I had the conversation with my friend, a therapist suggested I find a support group for eating disorders and there wasn't one in my community at the time. She referred me to a ministry called Truth Ministry that ministered to those struggling with addictions and codependency. When I first walked in, I noticed judgments were screaming in my head and I was so stressed by it that my disordered behaviors actually increased. I looked for reasons to quit and my therapist said it was my choice, but she thought I should talk to the pastor running the ministry so I could take ownership of my decision. He was awesome and helped me sort out my feelings and identify changeable problems, calming my anxiety enough that I stayed at Truth for quite awhile.

While there, I heard stories that melted my prideful heart allowing God to fill it with more compassion and love. While there, I saw hardened hearts softened and saw people extending grace at the same time they were holding each other accountable in such a beautifully balanced and loving way. I even shared my story one night and when the pastor prayed for me at the end I heard a bunch of sniffles.  I had expected a few ladies to cry, but it was the biggest burliest guys who made me nervous crying! Afterwards they came up to rejoice over what God has done in my life and shared their stories with me and I began to see them through God's eyes. I began to recognize His image in these people who were so broken by their addictions. They were so honest and so transparent. They were so hungry for God and His Word.

It hit me that all the years I had spent in church, I had been working hard to earn God's love and to cover up things like my pride, my sin, and my self-centeredness, and my judgments, all the while hoping I would be celebrated. I loved that group because it was there that I realized that God loved them just like they were. And God had loved me just like I was all along. There was nothing I could do to earn more love and nothing I could do to lose it. The business of trying to earn His love was put to rest...and that felt so good. There I began to believe bit by bit that I was being celebrated daily by God.

While at Truth Ministry, I bumped into a friend I hadn't seen in awhile. She came with another gal who was covered in tattoos and seemed like a tough gal. The friend introduced her as her sister, April, and believe me those pesky judgments were screaming loud and clear. Over time I got to know April and her great big heart, driving home the lesson that we are all equal in our desperate need of grace.

A few years later April became ill and passed away. Her funeral was exactly what I desire all churches to be, and what I imagine heaven already is -- a mixture of people from all walks of life. A place where addicts sit next to the church people who seen to have it all together. A place where the poor are seated among the rich. A place where the tattooed are sprinkled among those conservatively dressed. A place where those with nose rings and all sorts of piercings are scattered among those with traditional jewelry. A place where the wounded are actually tended to, a place where differences are celebrated, and a place where every prodigal is rejoiced over for being restored fully to his or her place at the King's table.

It became obvious that those at the funeral had one thing in common. When a friend began to sing, their  eyes leaked as they grieved the loss of their friend and contemplated all God had done in April's life and in the lives of those she loved and served.

I know the church can be a place that draws people in with grace and helps them grow into the people that God created them to be. The church can look a lot more like that motely crowd at April's funeral because we all have Jesus in common. But, we must recognize and acknowledge the older brother's heart that tends to dwell in us. If we acknowledge the Pharisaical tendencies, God can pull us back into His grace where we can return to joy.

For me, moving past judgment took my recognizing my desire to be loved, acknowledged, and accepted was something that was written on my heart by my Creator and then accepting His truth. The truth that God has lavishly and consistently met those needs through Christ! It is accepting that He truly celebrates me with open arms every time I come to Him. It is in understanding of those things, that I don't tend to wander back into being a spiritual prodigal like the older brother who remained judgmental, resentful, fearful, and jealous.

So if I were sitting in church as I do almost every Sunday and heard the pastor say in his invitation, "Will the Real Prodigals Please Stand Up!" I would be standing both with the younger brother who strayed and with the older brother who stayed. I wonder if you would be standing with me?         

Will the Real Prodigals Please Stand Up -- Part 1

"Now the tax collectors and sinners were all gathering

around to hear Jesus. But the Pharisees and the

and the teachers of the law muttered,

"This man welcomes sinners and eats with them."

Luke 15:1-2

 

I have always loved the story of the prodigal son. So often we take these stories out of context and use them to make a point. Most of the time the point is valid and true to Scripture, but when we take them out of context, we sometimes miss the original message the Lord was trying to convey. The first two verses of Luke 15 gives us the context of the story and its intended audience. Jesus addressed this audience in three parables, the last being the prodigal son, which is the parable I will focus on. 

 

The Parable of the Prodigal starts out, "There was a man who had two sons..." I remember as a child mainly hearing the story of the prodigal son, but because the story begins with the fact that the man had two sons, I want to look at both of the sons. This week we will look at the younger son who is called the prodigal and then next week we will look at the part of  the parable that tells us about the older son. 

 

The younger son approached his dad with an unusual request. He asked his dad to give him his portion of the inheritance. The oldest son would be given a double portion meaning the younger one would receive one third of his father's property unless there were other sons or daughters. The father complied and within a few days of getting his inheritance, the younger son packs up all that he has and leaves home for a far away country.

 

While there, the son squandered his money and spent it on immoral, reckless living until all of his money was spent. He didn't make poor decisions or lose it in a business deal, he simply wasted it on things that brought him pleasure. At least that is what he thought at the time. While there in his sin, his money ran out and he began to experience poverty. Then a famine came making it impossible for him to get food. So he looked for work and all he could get was a job feeding pigs. Now to a Jew this is a cursed position as pigs were considered unclean animals by Jewish law. I don't know if you know anything about raising pigs but our son did that in high school. It was a really stinky, dirty business. The young brother's job seemed to really reflect his sad spiritual state...both reeking. As a result he was reduced to having a job no Jew would ever want.

 

As food became more scarce, he began to experience deep hunger. As he slopped the pigs and watched them eat their fill, his hunger continued to grow. Yet, no one would give him food to eat and more than likely the slop wasn't fit for his consumption. He realized even pigs ate while he starved. I wonder if he was experiencing some heart hunger with that physical hunger -- hunger for the human kindness that had met his needs in the past, hunger for the love of his father that he had taken for granted, hunger for the familiar home and community that didn't stink. Rebellion has the potential to lead us away from what the heart wants most, we just don't realize it at the time. 

 

In the midst of hunger pains, he reflects on home and experiences a heart change. He realizes his father's servants eat better than him. He heads for home and on the long journey home, he rehearses the confession he will make to his dad -- a confession of sin and a request for acceptance as a servant. 

 

Little did he know that his father constantly gazed the horizon hoping to see him. When he spotted his son, the father's compassionate heart compelled him to run, which is not something that most men of that culture did. He ran! He embraced him! He kissed him. I can't help but wonder if the son expected a lecture, a cold shoulder, or even rejection. When I think of that scene, I also think of what my son smelled like when he came home from the pig barn with the stench of pigs wafting clear across the room. The last thing I would have done was embrace him. Yet the dad did just that. 

 

I often ask myself how I might relate to the person in the story...and to be honest it isn't hard to relate to the younger son. The Word tells me that while I was still in my sin, Christ loved me and died for me. That means God loved me with the stench of my sin still on me -- the stench of my pride, the stench of my lust, the stench of my selfishness, the stench of my self-centeredness, the stench of my independent heart that often chooses to do life apart from God, and the stench of trying to fill my God hunger with things of the world. Yeah, I can relate to him. I wish I couldn't, but I can. How about you? Can your relate? 

 

In response to the son's confession, the father calls his servants to bring a robe, a ring, and shoes. These are not the clothes of a servant, they are the clothing of a chosen son! He asks the servants to prepare a banquet so that he can celebrate the return of his son -- the son who was lost is found, the son who was dead is now alive. 

 

The father in the story shows us the Heavenly Father's heart. There are a lot of us who for a variety of reasons walked away from God and His fold after having made declarations of faith. Maybe we were wounded by legalism or by people in the church. Maybe we simply rebelled wanting something more. Maybe we slipped so gradually into sin that shame sent us running away from God and His people lest they find out. Maybe, we have reached a point that we believe the stench of what we have done will never be forgiven or washed away. But this story spoken by Christ Himself tells us the truth. God is always scanning the horizon for the return of  his prodigals. It tells us that God's love and compassion would compel Him to run towards us at the first sign of our return. No matter how bad we have blown it, no matter how deeply the stench is ground into our pours, God clothes us as sons and daughters washing away our stench and our shame and He throws a party to celebrate our return. We can let go of the shame because maybe, just maybe, we needed to ere to come to the end of ourselves and to the end of our pride in order to recognize God for who He really is -- our Redeemer, our Restorer, our Reconciler, our Healer, our Satisfaction, and the author of our redemption story. We may have needed a pig-pen experience to come to fully understand His grace and His mercy. There is nothing we experience that isn't filtered through love scarred hands. Do you see Him? He is there scanning the horizon for you and for me. 

 

 

 

 

He Gives Strength

...The Lord is the everlasting God,

The Creator of the ends of the earth.

He does not faint or grow weary;

His understanding is unsearchable.

He gives power to the faint,

and to him who has no might He increases strength.

Even youths shall faint and be weary,

and young men shall fall exhausted;

But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;

they shall mount up with wings like eagles;

they shall run and not be weary;

they shall walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:28-31

 

When I blog, it is because something I have learned about God has really excited me, I am wrestling with a truth and trying to let it seep into my heart, or because a common theme seems to be swirling around me in this thing we call life. This morning it is the later. I chose to write on this passage today because I know people who are in need of some hope.  

 

I have several friends who are struggling with chronic illnesses. Some have been given answers and others are looking for answers so they know what is going on and how to manage symptoms. They are in pain and/or totally exhausted. They are reminded daily that their bodies aren't well. They have a host of unanswered questions that usually go unspoken. They live with frustration, longing for the energy to live life the way they want to live it. I can relate as I spent a year recovering from a severe break and then with a two year bout with CMV and anemia that seems to have forever altered my energy level. When I say these gals are exhausted, they don't just need a nap. They are bone tired...the kind of tired that can make you wonder if you have the energy to even breath.

 

I've know several young moms, who are sleep deprived and struggling with postpartum depression like I did which can leave a woman totally exhausted and wondering if she can make it through one more day and one more night and one more feeding. 

 

I have friends who, like me, are overcoming eating disorders, addictions, or recovering from past traumas. They've grown in huge ways and been set free, but occasionally something triggers them and they will have to work hard to renounce lies, shut down old defense mechanisms, and withstand strong temptations and compulsions in order to walk in the freedom that God has called them to. Addictions and eating disorders are often hard persistent battles fought on a daily basis. We long for total freedom but learned our recover is a day by day, moment by moment walk.  

 

I have friends who have a two year old grandson fighting a very grown up battle with liver cancer. God has been answering many of their prayers and given them opportunities to share Christ. Yet, their family is working hard to walk this precious little guy through this battle. With this type of battle, not only is the little guy exhausted, but so is his parents who are walking this scary valley with him.  

Our church family is grieving with parents who lost a teenage daughter last week. My heart aches for them and know they are going to be going through the grief process for a long time...and those of us who have experienced grief know that it is an exhausting work. At the same time my husbands company is grieving the loss of a lady who was killed in a horrible car accident.

Our grandsons who lost a puppy a couple of years ago in an accidental drowning, are now facing the fact that another little loving dog is struggling with seizures and have to meet with the vet today to see how to treat. Their little tender hearts have begun to shed tears as they are once again faced with the truth that life is fragile.

Then there is the whole issue of sin we struggle with...you know the struggle Paul talks about in Romans...the one where he says he does the things he doesn't want to do and doesn't do the things he wants to do. I know at the end of the day I often shake my head because I did something I thought I was so over doing, or I failed to do something God has called me to again because it is out of my comfort zone. Then there are the things I commit to in the morning and fail to do by evening. The words that wounded or the lack of words that didn't get spoken to encourage.

Life in this fallen world is painful, scary, and exhausting. As a result, we can be prone to despair and hopelessness unless we remember God. In our weakest moments we can remember He is an everlasting God, the Creator who has the power to speak the universe into place. We can remember that He never grows weary or faint.

We can remember His understanding is unsearchable. He understands how frustrating it is when illness robs us of energy and when pain exhausts us and depletes us of energy. He understands when fever hits and fear rises up within a parent's heart. He understands when grief is overwhelming and we can do nothing but shed heart wrenching tears. He understands our anxiousness when we wait for tests results and the questions floating around in our minds that we are either too afraid or too ashamed to ask. And as the Creator, He even understands how our temperaments color how we respond to life's struggles. As the Healer, He understands how our past trauma can still impact our ability to deal with life in the here and now.

When life is hard, the Enemy wants us to believe Jesus doesn't care or has deserted us. But the enemy is a deceiver. As believers, we can choose to refute his lies and embrace the truth of these verses. So, when we are emotionally, physically, or even spiritually exhausted it doesn't mean that we are abandoned. It means we are in a position to experience Him, His power, His strength, and His faithfulness.

His Word says that if we wait on Him He will renew our strength and we will mount up with wings like eagles. We will not grow faint and will not grow weary. Over the years my perspective of what it means to have wings has changed. It used to just mean doing huge things for God. Now I believe that sometimes the rising up is more about Him giving us strength to do what He has called us to do, even what we might consider the mundane tasks of this life. For a new mom, it might mean He gives her the strength to get up six times in one night to sooth a sick teething baby. There is no more important work to do. For in the faithful work of feeding and nurturing a baby a bonding process takes place that gives the baby the ability to love as an adult. For grieving parents, giving them the strength to cry a few more tears and get through one more day shows others that God is in the comforting business and creates in each of us a desire for our true home.  To the eating disordered or addicted, it may be just enough strength to call an accountability partner and walk in victory for the next hour. There is nothing more powerful that saying "NO!" to urges that are as strong as physical appetites gone awry. To a couple who is struggling, it may be just enough strength to reach past their anger and embrace just long enough to rekindle the spark of love that the enemy almost extinguished.  It might be just enough strength to silence a biting tongue and offer grace instead. To the chronically ill, it may be just enough strength and hope to keep the doctor appointment and to ask others to pray. In that strength comes the connection and community that can instill hope and allow us to love one another.

Could it be that our discouragement is in part from wrongly categorizing things to which God calls us into categories of significant and insignificant? God sees us and what we are experiencing from a whole perspective that we do not have. He sees the lives impacted by even the smallest step of faith. He sees the lives impacted by the testimonies of ones who weren't sure that they had it in them to make it one more day, one more hour, or maybe even one more moment. Oh that we would be a people who remind each other that God never promised us storm free lives...He promised to give us wings like eagles....wings that rise above the storm and strengthen us to accomplish what it is He has willed us to do.

Living Loved and Loving It

"We love because He first loved  us."

1 John 4:19

 

 

Last week our church started a sermon series called #forfamily. We've had fun with the title of the series, because many in the church have not kept up with social media. As a result, some had never seen a hash tag used in the context of a title. Some of us have seen it, but still weren't exactly clear on how to use it correctly. Our pastor has done a great job explaining the use of the hash tag and many of us are now dangerously armed with just enough information to cause our children to cringe when we use it incorrectly. In spite of the trendy title, the first two sermons in the series were meaty and have given me a lot to chew on in regard to relationships, especially those within the family. The pastor has given me permission to blog about his sermon. So, some of the thoughts I will share originated with him, but kind of exploded in my mind. I encourage you to take a listen to his sermons at this link: http://www.riverlakeschurch.org/index.php/watch-and-listen/sermons That way you can identify more clearly my rambling and his well thought out sermons.  

 

Those of us who have been in Christian circles for awhile have heard that we are created by God in His image. I have to confess that when I don't take time to really process biblical truth I don't always grasp the ramifications of some of the great truths found in God's word. One of those truths is that we are created in God's image.

To more fully understand what it means to be created in His image, I must understand some things about God. First and foremost is the fact that He is a triune God. That means He is one God who exists in three persons. Now, I accept  it as truth. I totally am fascinated by the concept, but it is really beyond my comprehension to fully explain it. In a nut shell, it means that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit are one, yet three persons. They are one in essence which means all three have always existed and have always been in a perfect relationship. I conclude that God is a relational God and to be created in His image must mean we were created to be relational beings. That means first that we were created to have a relationship with God. Second, it means that we were created to be in relationships with other humans.

If the trinity was already in a complete, perfect relationship then we can know some things for certain about our God. He didn't create man because He was lonely, He had a completely satisfying relationship within the trinity. We know He didn't create man to meet His needs, because He is completely self-sufficient and self-sustaining. He didn't need us to survive. We can also know that He didn't create man because He needed someone to love Him, because He by His very nature love, so there was an infinite amount of love flowing between the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. He didn't need my measly efforts at loving to feel loved.

He simply created us because He is a creative God and because it is in His very nature to love. He created us and then He invited us into an already existing perfect relationship--the pre-existing relationship of the trinity.

Further more, Jesus life, as portrayed in the gospels, gives us a picture of what God intended love to look like. First, it looks like initiation--John 3:16 makes it clear that it was because God loved that He sent His Son. He didn't just sit up in heaven and wait on others to love Him first. He sent His Son to demonstrate His love when we were still trapped in our sin and often unlovable--His love remained ever loving, ever inviting.

Second, through His teaching, we see that the love of God looked like self-disclosure. As Jesus walked, talked, taught privately, taught publically, and lived out His true self in front of His disciples, man was give a clear picture of the love that the with in the trinity.

Third, His love looked like service. He saw the physical needs and fed the multitudes. He saw when His disciples needed rest and He incorporated that into their busy schedule. He saw the sick and He healed them. He saw those bound by demons and He set them free. He, who was worshipped and anointed, sat down and washed His disciples feet the last night, knowing the last thing they would see of Him was that He served.

Fourth, His love was self-sacrificing. He left His heavenly home and He came to earth to rub shoulders with those He created. He gave of His time. He gave of His energy. He gave of His heart. He gave of His emotions through His expressions of anger, grief, and the passion with which He preached. He sacrificed His own life to make a way for us to return to the perfect relationship with the trinity--that relationship for which we were created.

Maybe to be created in His image means that we are to be lovers. I don't know about you, but when I look back on my life, I spent a lot of time trying to get love instead of loving. One of my earliest memories was being in a social setting with my family and a bunch of other families. I remember grabbing a microphone that was sitting there and belting out some song. Now, I am not much of a singer, but it was a way of seeking attention and love. Later on, I developed a strong tendency towards perfectionism thinking if I could just be good enough God would love me, my parents would adore me, my teachers would dote on me, and all of the kids at school would want to be my friend. Then I eventually got married thinking that the deep hunger in my heart would finally be satisfied,. but it didn't happen that way.

What did happen was that two very needy young adults got married, each of us thinking that the other would love us in a way that would fulfill a deep craving for love that we each had. We pushed and we pulled and we each tried to extract that love from the other by demanding it and manipulating each other for it. The more we tried to get the love, the emptier we both felt until we landed in a Christian counselor's office. Over time I began to really grasp that I had needs, my husband had needs, and our marriage had needs. Then I wrote a curriculum for our co-dependency support group and by the end of the curriculum I had come to a conclusion about marriage and why marriages so often fail. Maybe it is because two broken, needy people come together and begin to look to each other, to fix them, to heal past pain, to meet the deep love needs that were written on our hearts by God Himself. But in our case we were both so needy, neither one of us could fulfill what the other needed.

Then one tough week my husband went out of town. We had a water sky trip with our youth group. Then that night while we were at a pot luck at church one of the girls came up and tearfully told me her brother and his wife had just found out their baby had died in the womb and would be still born that night. Her brother was one of my son's best friends. So, when my son got to the dinner, I told him and he headed up to their house on his motorcycle. I had no sooner gotten home from the dinner when the phone rang. The girl told me that her brother and his wife had headed to the hospital and that I needed to meet her and my son at the emergency room because our son had had an accident on his motorcycle. No bones were broken, but he was so badly scraped up that they wanted to bandage him and watch him for awhile. He asked me to go check on his friends. His friend's parents had gone to get her mom so they asked me to stay with them. I did stay with them until the baby was born. We wept, then I went down stairs to take our son home and had to take him back to the hospital for bandage changes over the next few days. We also got a call that my step dad had died. I couldn't go, because I was tending to my son. Then Sunday evening came, and I left to help at a Christian camp. I remember sitting in chapel the first night and telling God I had absolutely nothing left to give. As I was praying, I was filled with an overwhelming feeling of being loved and found in that love the strength to grieve and to continue to minister to others. It ended up being one of the best weeks.  

As I look back I realize there was a time in which I felt the most loved and close to my husband. Ironically it didn't have anything to do with him. It was during the time that our youth had a small group of prayer warriors that we would take up to the mountains to pray. We would pray for about three hours solo and then come back together and share what we were learning and pray as a group. During that time I not only felt close to God, but I had a deep desire to love my husband and he was more loving toward me as well. We experienced a peace in our relationship and at that time our needs were filled by God and we were able to turn our expectations and demands into desires. Through counseling we also learned to communicate what we desired, without demanding it, letting the other off the hook for our happiness. It sounds easy, but it wasn't. It took a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to get there. To be perfectly honest, we are both still working on letting God be the one who fills our hearts with love so that we can love each other well.

Our pastor loves to teach about marriage and his way of putting it is that marriage is about sanctification and personal responsibility. I used to get angry when I heard him say that, but I have come to believe it whole heartedly. Because marriage is an intimate relationship it exposes our selfishness, self-centeredness, sinfulness, and brokenness and to be honest I kind of wanted to blame all of that on my spouse. But I also think that marriage exposed something more that I found terrifying at first. It exposed a deep craving for love that never felt filled. I realize it had always been there. As a child I looked to my parents for that love and then my friends and then eventually transferred that need and expectation to my mate. The exposure of that need was painful, because I feared it would never be filled. And it wouldn't be if I kept trying to extract that love from my spouse. It was a craving written on my heart by God, but it was also a craving only God could fill.

I wonder, how different our marriages, our families, out church families, and our communities would be if we empty, broken people quit trying to excise love we so desperately and legitimately need from other empty, broken people and begin to really believe and to live as ones who are already loved. Maybe we could really grasp the truth of the verse that says we to because He first loved us. In this crazy culture we will have to make time to sit before Him and let His love fill us. We will have to assume our personal responsibility to love--to initiate, to disclose, to serve and to sacrifice. So, I confess, that I am a needy person struggling to fully learn to live loved, and I am loving it! 

 

The God of the Impossible

I am weary with my crying out;

My throat is parched.

My eyes grow dim with waiting for my God.

 

Psalm 69:3

 

 

Those of us who have been apart of Christian circles for awhile, have heard that there are three answers to prayer. "Yes," "No," and "Wait." I have always been able to handle the "yes" and "no" answers, because they are immediate and the matter at hand feels settled. There is very little confusion in clear cut answers. It feels like I have been heard, and I know that I had been answered in a way that is best for me. 

 

On the other hand, the wait answers are hard. For a long while I wasn't sure why. Then our small group did a Bible study on the concept of waiting on God. The pastor opened the study by having each one of us share what we found difficult about waiting on God. Everyone gave that made sense, but in my heart of hearts I couldn't put my finger on why I found it so hard to wait. Later he shared a verse that essentially said that God has His ears turned to those who are waiting on Him. That really resonated with me and helped me see what was hard about waiting on God. When God didn't answer my prayers, I had been assuming that He didn't see me and that He chose not to hear me. If it was something I felt very passionate about, I would sometimes even envision myself climbing to a mountain top and crying out to Him in hopes of being seen and being heard.  

 

I realized for the first time that night that God's waits were an invitation for me to keep on talking to Him, not a sign that I had been neglected by God. His waits were not a reason to withdraw and gravitate to the lies that I am invisible and not worth listening to. His waits have been and continue to be an invitation to keep on talking...

 

   ...talking until any pain in my heart is turned to joy

   ...talking until the lies I believe are exposed and replaced with His truth 

   ...talking until my unbelief is transformed into belief

   ...talking until my desire for God is greater than my desire for His benefits

   ...talking until my will is perfectly aligned with His

   ...talking until by mustard seed-sized faith is big enough to move mountains

 

I now realize the waits don't mean I am neglected; they are periods of times that are designed by the wise Creator to mature and sanctify my oh so human heart.  

 

As I have been thinking about waiting, I realize that waiting on God to answer prayers isn't the only waiting to which we are called. There are times we wait for God to fulfill His promises. One of the most powerful examples of this found in the story of Abram and Sarai who were barren and unfortunately living in the midst of a people who worshiped fertility gods.   

 

Jehovah called Abram and Sarai out of that situation to a new land, promising to make them a great nation, which implied to them that they would become parents. That promise must have been like music to their ears. They left and were blessed abundantly with material possession...but, for a child they waited... and they waited...and then they waited some more.

 

During their long wait they had a few missteps and a few lapses of faith in which Abram lied about Sarai being his wife for fear he would be killed. In Genesis 15 we even get a glimpse of Abram trying to make sense of God's promise and the lack of it being filled promptly when he asks God if maybe his relative Eliezer was to be his heir. God restated His promise as a covenant contract with Abram trying to reassure Abram that He meant business. 

 

Later, Sarai tries to help God out as well. She gives Abram her handmaiden to raise up children for them, causing all sorts of problems. As Abram turns 99 and Sarai 90, God not only visits again and restates His promise, He changes their names. Abram became Abraham which means exalted Father and Sarai became Sarah meaning princess because kings would come out of her line. Then they waited some more. The Lord visits again and this time Sarah laughs when she hears the promise. If she is anything like me, the laughter probably wasn't born out of joy, but out of cynicism.    

 

I found that as I tried to put myself in their sandals for a bit I became less judgmental. I realize they were living a story as it was being penned and couldn't see the ending like I can. In the context of their story, their questions, their scheming, their actions, and even Sarai's laughter make sense because they're so human, just like me. Month after month, their hopes would rise and fall with her menstrual cycle. It probably even felt as if God were dangling their hearts' desire in their faces and then every month pulling it back.

 

Man, hadn't they already born the shame of infertility in a culture that idolized fertility? Hadn't they stepped out in faith and obeyed God by going to a new land? Hadn't a part of the promise been fulfilled in their amassed wealth? Why not it all?

 

So, the offer to help God out makes sense to me. In all honesty there are times that I do the same thing. When I am going through something that in my human mind doesn't seem match up to what I understand of God's Word, I try to reason it out to make it make sense. I really can't blame Sarai and Abram, for wondering, for misunderstanding, or for offering God solutions in how He could bring His promise to reality in their old age. Maybe they were trying to help God because they saw the situation as impossible. Yes, their view of God may have been small and they may have lacked spiritual understanding. But, sometimes my view is small, too.  

 

During the wait they experienced things that gave them a bigger and more accurate picture of their God. They saw Sodom judged and destroyed and Lot's life spared. They experienced God's intervention and protection when they told lies out of fear. They met King Melchizedek--the priest of the most High and defeated armies. 

 

Ironically, the couple who had been promised a child lived long enough for her life blood Sarah to cease and for all to know Abraham and Sarah's bodies were incapable of reproduction. They lived long enough for their unbelief to be exposed through her laughter...then and only then the God of grace acted. And in His acting God showed Himself to be the one true God, the Creator, and the Author of life. 

 

Hebrews 11 tells us that Sarah came to believe and because she believed she was able to conceive. Maybe a part of the wait served to purify their faith so that they could believe the unbelievable and maybe a part of the wait served to show them that Jehovah is the God of the Impossible! God resurrected their sexually dead bodies and gave them a child in old age, turning their grief to laughter and their scoffing to faith.

 

In acting God also reconnected their sexuality to their spirituality. For the chiasm between the later two happened during the fall and it had grown wider by man's  establishment of false religions that idolized fertility and sacrificed young girls as temple prostitutes. By His actions, God reestablished the purity of the marriage bed and the sanctity of the marriage covenant sealed spiritually by the sexual relationship. 

 

The story of Abraham and Sarah gives me such hope with all that is going on in this world --wars,  earthquakes, droughts, famines, tsunamis, persecutions. I know that Jesus promised to return and when things heat up in this world I find myself wondering just like the early church if God has forgotten his promise. But 2 Peter 3:9 says, "The Lord is not slow to fulfill His promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance."

 

It is so important to accept that the waits are intentionally designed by His love-scarred hands. My job during the waits is three fold. First, I am to be prayerful--pouring out my heart so that all that stands in the way of my faith is exposed and removed. Second, I am to be patient, believing that God is working both in the world and in the spiritual realms in ways that my human mind cannot understand. Third, I am  to be a promise seeker who diligently pours over His Words because they remind me of who He is and give me hope.

 

His Word says, "His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature, having escaped from the corruption that is in the world because of sinful desire." (2Peter 1:3-4). His promises are precious and they are great. He gives them to me so that I can become more like Him. The enemy will try to convince me that God is not listening. But the truth is His ears are always turned to those who belong to Him. There is no greater time to display faith to a dying world than when I am waiting for God to answer prayer or waiting for God to fulfill His promises. 

 

So, how are you doing at being prayerful, patient, and a promise seeker during the times that you are waiting on God? Some times I falter, but I am trying. I would love you to share what you have learned as you have waited on God! What did you learn about Him? What did you learn about yourself? And what did you learn about life? 

 

 

 

God Meets us in our Deepest Pain

"He was despised and rejected by men;

a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief;

and as one from who men hide their faces

He was despised, and we esteemed Him not."

Isaiah 53:3



The recent death of Robin Williams touched my heart deeply because he was able to touch our human hearts at a deep level with both laughter and tears. He always presented himself as a kind and decent person in interviews that he granted in the midst of the crazy Hollywood culture. The death of someone so well known triggers grief in each of us even though we didn't have a personal relationship with him and that is OK. Because his death was classified as suicide, the grief is more complicated, leaving us with all sorts of questions and all sorts of judgments.

As saddened as I was by his death, I was more impacted by the responses of believers who blogged expressing thoughts and opinions. Some of the blog posts were full of compassion and hope as was Ann Voskamp's. Her blog gave me a lot to think about, brought up parts of my own story I hadn't thought about in a while. She talked about things I too had experienced within the church and I was sad that she had experienced those, too. It was a good sadness because it reminded me of how to respond in a godly way to hurting people.

Others bloggers, like Matt Walsh, wrote posts about William's death that made me cringe and grieved my heart. Ironically, it is because he reminded me of the same things Ann had. The difference was that Ann pointed out those things from her personal experience and she imparted hope and a challenge to love as Jesus loves. Matt wrote from a critical perspective that sounded judgmental and shaming, which didn't offer hope and my fear is that it will silence those who are hurting and don't want to be judged.

I became deeply acquainted with depression after the birth of my third child. The pregnancy was tough because a man broke into our home in the middle of the night. I woke up with him touching my night clothes. Even though my husband woke up and the man ran, it did trigger PTSD which kept me from sleeping through the rest of the pregnancy. If I did fall asleep, I would awaken my two preschoolers and my husband by screaming when I was dreaming or having flashbacks of traumas I previously experienced. During the day, when one of my little ones approached me from behind, I would screamed in terror instead of turning and sweeping them up playfully in my arms. We sold that home and moved right before the baby was born. I was excited and thought the move would solve everything. But the fear I felt wasn't a fear of a certain place, it was a fear of being unsafe in my own skin.

After the baby was born, my husband was studying at the college and I walked into our home and put the kids to bed after church one night and I sat down and started crying and couldn't stop. I was confused and kept telling myself I had everything I wanted--a relationship with God, a great husband, three beautiful children, a new home, and yet somehow I couldn't shake the dark feeling of dread and fear I lived with for several years.

I visited the church library at one point and found a book called Happiness is a Choice.  A few things  helped a little, but try as hard as I could, I couldn't resolve the darkness I experienced and felt even more ashamed because I even failed at choosing happiness. After another pregnancy, I told two doctors and one corrected nutritional deficiencies and one corrected a minor thyroid problem which helped a lot. I also began to run, boosting my brain chemistry and felt hopeful. God also put some key people in my life that listened to me and encouraged me as a mom, a believer, and gave me the gifts of friendship and fellowship centered around God.

After the birth of another child and two moves across the country, I went through another season of pain and darkness I thought would never end. No amount of trying to choose happiness worked. I tried to silence dark thoughts and I functioned, but I hurt down to the deepest parts of my soul. In addition to the depression I was experiencing broken relationships, two things I thought Christians weren't supposed to have. I struggled with an eating disorder in which I bounced back and forth from anorexia to obesity and back again and the thoughts were as dark as the self-loathing was deep. I believed my family would be better off without me and construed plans that would lessen their pain. One wise friend I confided in told me honestly he didn't know how to help me, but believed God wanted to help me through counseling. After a couple of years of wrestling with the shame attached to going to counseling, I did seek it. I began to find some relief and hope in the office of Christian counselors. Sadly, I heard many negative comments about believers who sought counseling from Christian leaders. I even had one person shove a Bible in my face and tell me if I spent more time in it I wouldn't have depression or an eating disorder. I was reading, praying, and attending church. I was hurting and wondering why this God thing seemed to work for everyone but me. I hated the fact that as I woke up day after day, pleading God to either heal me or take me home. I hated that I could love another and care about them so deeply, while the loathing of myself was destroying my heart.

I want to make it clear that even though I had some bad experiences during the dark time, I did have some people in my life who were believers who spent hours encouraging me in the work I was doing with counselors. Some may have wanted me to get done quicker, but others were patient and understood depressed wounded people are suffering and their minds move slowly. I didn't choose to be happy anymore, but I did choose to quit trying to please the critics and allowed the healing process to be what it was--slow steps and tiny victories overshadowed by slips and grief. I chose therapists that understood I believed Jesus was the healer and I chose to dive in and work hard, because I knew for me it was a matter of life or death.

The counseling office was the first place I shared the hurts of the past that drove my disorder as well as the hurts I was presently experiencing. I expected to hear the Christian admonition to forgive, but what I experienced was compassion and having someone enter the trenches and cry with me, get angry over the sin perpetrated against me, and then rejoice with me as I began to move forward. I had the gift of someone who listened to the words I needed to say to get well and someone who made it safe to cry tears I needed to cry.

I also learned the difference in being self-centered and self-aware so I can take care of myself and love others in healthier ways. I learned to confront in godly ways so I didn't live as a human doormat. I learned to forgive from my heart, acknowledging events, pain, and grief rather than living in denial and stuffing pain.

I was encouraged to spend time in the Word especially Psalms so I could learn to express emotions and thoughts to God in the way the man after God's own heart did. I filled journals with letters I wrote to God, processing traumatic events and painful emotions as well as the goodness of God. I also chose to spend a time studying the names and characteristics of God and found that some of those names were ascribed to Him by hurting people just like me. I began to explore in minute detail the gospels and gained glimpses of how Jesus talked to people and how He treated them. He never shamed broken people, but He confronted harshly those who thought they weren't. I learned that He experienced and expressed all the same emotions I felt, but stuffed. I came to realize that unbelief isn't just not believing what the Word says about God, it is also not believing what God says about me.

During the time of counseling I wasn't shamed for my concerns, but taught to cast my cares upon God by naming them to Him rather than pretending they didn't exist. I learned that the person who told me tears were a sign of weakness was wrong and herself deceived. I learned that I could face the past and that God was big enough to heal it and to hear my questions, thoughts, and emotions about it. I learned all emotions are God-given and serve as a good indicator that I am alive. I learned to read the messages the emotions tell me and to manage them. I found a courage in the midst of my fear that I didn't know I had.

I've said all of that to say, I am deeply saddened when someone takes their own life. I understand first hand  the desire to end the dark feelings of hopelessness, despair, and shame. I understand the desire to end the pain I believed would never end. I feel sad that people have written things in the Christian community that is so judgmental. I believe God is the author of life, but also believe there is a huge difference in being sad for a few days or grieving for a season and in suffering clinical depression that is debilitating and clouds one's perceptions and decisions making processes in the same way drugs or alcohol can. I believe it is only by the grace of God that I didn't take my life. I know some have sought every kind of help possible and didn't make it. Rather than judging them I will simply acknowledge that I don't know why. I refuse to judge the validity of another's salvation, another's strength or lack there of, or another's character at a time like this.

I want you to know I found great joy and purpose in doing the work I did to overcome depression and trauma. While, I will never be like someone who hasn't had those experiences, I have found in facing the pain of those experiences I have had the joy of seeing God intricately involved in my journey and experienced first hand His comfort. I have experienced His strength in my weakest moments. I have experienced the truth of His Word taking form in my heart through the wrestling I've done with God.

Most importantly, as I read through the Gospels I realized Jesus experienced every emotion I have felt, even sorrowing unto the point of feeling He would die from it. He was abused, lied about, misunderstood, falsely accused, hated, rejected, and yet He loved and He obeyed God by taking on my sin. I began to find solace in the truth that the Savior I had embraced so long ago was a traumatized Savior, a man troubled deeply by sorrow. The scene of Him in the garden shows He understood the struggle, the sorrow, the aloneness, and even the despair. The scene also taught me to hang on to God knowing that what looks bad is often the vehicle through which His goodness, grace, and mercy are delivered. As I came out of that dark season, I began to grasp the truth that my story as painful and ugly as it was at times is a beautiful story of redemption, restoration, and healing. Out of the ashes, He has given me a ministry of comforting other women who have been deeply wounded and I can say today, that the joy in watching precious ladies find Jesus in their pain is overwhelming and the privilege of seeing them leave our groups as women no longer defined by their pain and their pasts is indescribably rewarding.

I learned so many beautiful and powerful things about Christ from my dark season. I have come out of it finding profound joy. I think of the cross and what that must have looked like to the world. It grew dark, the ground shook, the Savior died, and the flock scattered. It looked like the end. But what they could not see at the time was that during the darkness, human sin was overcome by God's righteousness. Hatred was defeated by God's love, The Deceiver was silenced by the Truth. Death was overcome and the light shone through the darkness erasing every nook and cranny. I fear the  tendency we have as a church to judge those who take their own lives or who struggle will emotional pain will keep us from being transparent, compassionate, and loving. I fear it will keep us from being the hands and feet and voice of Jesus to those in pain. I fear it will leave us stuck in our miserable pride rather than foster humility.

I know when I find myself judging another I am experiencing fear, struggling with insecurity, avoiding pain, am uncomfortable with something or someone, or am trying to fit God into a box so He and His ways make sense and feels comfortable and safe to me. But to be honest, I want a God who is bigger than comfortable. I want a God who is bigger than my perception of safe. I want a God who refuses to be boxed in by my simple human mind. I hope we, as believers, use Williams' death to do some soul searching and heart correcting so we love as He loves. Maybe compassion and a willingness to understand the mind of someone in so much pain can teach us to love in tangible real ways and to speak God's hope into a heart filled with despair. Shame only causes their pain to be intensified and then buried deeper where it festers.

Thank you, Robin, for making me laugh and making me cry and making me think. Thank you for talking so transparently about your struggles. Your death and its circumstances deserve to be treated with dignity and compassion...its the least we can do for one who has impacted us in such profound ways.

Forgiveness Part 3--The Power of Prayer in Forgiveness

"Blessed are those whose lawless deeds are forgiven,

and whose sins are covered."

Romans 8:4

 

The more I researched the topic of forgiveness, the more I realize how complicated a subject it is. It's complicated because of the way we define forgiveness and the way we take verses out of context without considering the whole counsel of the Word of God as we formulate our views on forgiveness. Some material says we forgive only if a person repents, apologizes, or changes their behavior. Some material says we have to forgive for God to forgive us. 

 

Some of the confusion comes from intimately lacing restoration and reconciliation with forgiveness. Some of the confusion comes from emphasizing the need to forgive without emphasizing the need to do work to rebuild trust and a healthy relationships after betrayal occurs. Some relationship shouldn't be restored because restoration prevents a person from experiencing painful consequences that may lead him or her to repentance. Sometimes restoration without repentance places us or loved ones in danger and that is never okay. Some of the confusion comes from seeing forgiveness as the sole "fix" for our wounded hearts. Forgiveness doesn't release us from pain, just from the compulsive replaying of offenses and the seeking of revenge. Some confusion may even come from the church using forgiveness as a way of avoiding confrontation and the living with the consequences of sinful choices. 

 

I recently attended a marriage conference with several workshops and plenary speakers, many of which touched on forgiveness. As I listened, I realized that forgiveness alone doesn't take away our pain. Forgiveness requires humility and a relinquishing of our desire to get even, to hurt another as much as we have been hurt, and to see justice done our way in our timing. Forgiveness doesn't automatically grant restoration and reconciliation. Repentance and a willingness to do what ever it takes to take responsibility for one's actions is required for that. Forgiveness doesn't erase the past, it gives us a way to live with it without letting it control our present or our future. Forgiveness isn't saying what happened doesn't matter, it saying I trust God with this person and with my pain. Forgiveness isn't easy, it requires great faith and a work of God's Spirit in us.

 

So, the question we often find ourselves wrestling with is, "How do I reach the place I can forgive, when it feels impossible?" In a nut shell, the answer is prayer. I know, it sounds like a religious platitude, but please bear with me as I explain what I mean by it.

 

Because God wants us to be radically honest with Him, I believe we need to be honest with Him where we are at in regard to pain and forgiveness, trusting that He will meet us there. If we don't want to forgive, we can begin by asking Him to give us the willingness to forgive. If we are willing, but don't know if we are capable of forgiving a particular offense, we can ask Him how we can get to that point. If we are willing and believe we have reached a place of forgiveness, we can then ask Him what does forgiveness look like in that relationship and if He wants us to confront or to consider reconciliation or restoration or simply to release the person and get out of the way so God can do His work. 

 

So, what do we do with all of the messy feelings that get in the way of our choosing to forgive? There are two types of prayers that help us work through our feelings and enable forgiveness. The first is to talk to God about the person. Be like a child and tattletale to God to your hearts content. David did this type of thing in many of the psalms. Tell God what happened, how it impacted your life, your heart, and your relationship with the person. Tell God what you had needed and wanted from the relationship. Try to be emotionally honest with God, naming the emotions you are experiencing, the why's you have on the tip of your tongue, and how you are feeling about God's call to forgive.

 

Don't be tricked by the tempter to stay at the anger stage. Look under the anger and identify hurt, disappointment, sadness, and frustration.  Write out lies you believe and vows you may have made to protect your heart from more pain and come back to the truth of who you are in Christ and to the truth that the offender, is a broken image bearer.

 

Check for distortions in thinking--are you embracing all or nothing thinking? Are you employing catastrophic thinking? Is a past hurt being triggered by the present hurt?  Are you personalizing things that aren't really about you? Then ask God to show you the truth of the situation and His work in it. I did a lot of this kind of work with a Christian therapist. I wrote out the process letters and read them and processed them and prayed over them in her office. It was a freeing work because I was encouraged to be radically honest and as a result realized God didn't zap people because they were angry or hurt. It was also freeing to me to have someone hear the garbage in my heart and head and display God's grace to me in the midst of anger and frustration and sadness. This helped me see that the ugly parts, the weak parts, and the wounded parts could be seen and heard and treated with dignity, kindness, respect, and grace. I think God must hate the pretense of pretending everything is fine when it isn't...yet so often we require that of other and of ourselves. What if the way out of the pain and anger is a process that frees us to let go and embrace our humanness and the humanness of others who bear the image of our Creator?.   

 

Secondly, as your emotions began to heal, we can love the person we consider to be our enemy by praying for the person. I often use Scripture so that I am not just praying my judgments of the person. If the person is a nonbeliever, I pray for their salvation and God's mercy to be fulfilled in them. If the person hasn't repented I pray for that, so that they can be set free form the bondage of their sin. If a person is a believer, I pray through Scriptures like the ones found in Paul's letters that outline the characteristics God wants for them. For example, if I were wounded by gossip, I might pray that God will help the person speak words that build up the hearer. If I were robbed, I might pray that God would help the person become a giver. I would maybe even write their initials in a prayer journal with the reference for the verse. I also pray any other verses that come to light as God's Spirit prompts me. After praying for a person who had harmed me, I felt God's Spirit impress on my heart that no one had ever prayed for the person before. What a privilege to be the one who did!

 

In closing, I know some of you are probably thinking if she only knew my story. I know life is painful and that we live in a sin-filled world and that the Enemy would do anything he could to convince God's people that the wrong they have suffered is beyond forgivable. I have even cried out to God for precious friends who have had to forgive what in my mind and my heart seemed unforgiveable and then be privileged to watch them work through the issues that needed forgiving. It wasn't easy and it wasn't fun, but it was so freeing for them and they were filled with love and joy that most people never ever possess because they were obedient and willing to see God work. When we accept that boundaries are okay for safety and repentance can be required for restoration, we can let go of fear and began to seek God in order to heal and to forgive. When we don't short change the process of forgiveness by excluding the work of confrontation and the work of building godly relationships, we allow God to turn ugly situations in to beauty. When we let God meet us in our pain, we will recognize the works of grace and forgiveness are actually opportunities in disguise to pour love into others' messy lives in the same way that God, Himself, has poured into our. Maybe, just maybe, our ability to forgive is intimately tied with how big our faith is...and God is in the faith-growing business. 

 

See Beth Moore's book, Praying God's Word for more help on forgiving!