Far Reaching

It hits hard.  Some days more than others.
The regrets.  The shame.  The "if only's."

Yesterday I felt the weight, the burden, the reality of sin.

The sting of sin.  The consequences of sin.  The fact that there are no do-overs. 
It had me on the floor, grieving in such a way I couldn't catch my breath.  The cry that you don't want anyone to see.

I sat in the reality that we sinned, regretted it, and still face the consequences years later.

We looked at each other this morning - one weary with crying and one just weary.

So many things, we said.  So many things that we wish could be undone.

And yet, they can't.  It has rightly been said, "It is what it is."

Yes and no.

It is what it is because of sin, because of the brokenness that has existed from the first disobedience.
It is not what it should be but shall one day be again.  Jesus comes back.

All ready he has risen victorious.  All ready he has defeated sin and the grave.

He has bore my shame and iniquity.

There are no do-overs in this thing called life.  That hurts more than you can imagine at this moment.

Yet, I have to put my focus on the Lord and speak his truth to my broken heart.

Psalm 119:68

For you, O God, are good and you do good.

Pain, Still

It's been 4 years.

4 years of grieving.
4 years of hurting.
4 years of much sorrow.

Mother's Day came and went with reminders of what has been taken.  What has been lost.

A season of sin led to a decision that has birthed many regrets.

Asked by our pastor - in the midst of teaching through Ephesians - what do we need to be reminded of that Jesus is over.

Ephesians 1:21 reads, "far above all rule and authority and power and dominion..."

He asked us to write down the words, "Jesus is over."

He then asked asked us to list underneath what it is we're struggling with and to see that Jesus is over it all.

I want to say I'm healed.  I want to say it doesn't affect me.
4 years is 4 years is 4 years and it's time to move on.

Yet...
Today, writing my list, good things, hard things and just plain painful things led me to write longing.

A longing that has not been realized and won't be realized.
A longing that is putting distance between the very relationship that needs healing.

I'm grateful that in the midst of the sorrow, there is joy.  Deep-rooted joy that is steadfast and unwavering.

Grateful that I have a high priest who sympathizes with me and gives me grace and mercy in my time of need.

Because, God knows, I am desperately needy.  And he alone can fill the need.

Hebrews 4:16

Since then we have a great high priest has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession.  For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin.  Let us then with confidence, draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Weary Rejoicing

Last night at dinner,  my little one ddn't like what was presented.
He said his piece was "too burnt."

The husband, in an act of compassion, got up to get him another piece.

After literally turning up his nose at what his father gave him, my sweet six year old "harumphed" and turned the other way.
Jesus spoke to my convicted heart.

I'm in a season of abundance.
I'm learning.
I'm growing.
I'm being stretched.
I'm writing.
I'm teaching.
I'm forming new relationships.
I'm seeing massive changes through the works of my hands.

And yet... some days I'm turning up my nose and walking away.

I'm tired of the meetings.
I'm tired of the trainings.
I'm tired of standing up in front of people.
I'm tired of the to-do lists about what I have to-do.
I'm tired of having to respond to people on a daily basis.

In this, the Lord reminds me he gave me a gift.  He has knitted in me talents.  He has bestowed upon me abilities.  He has answered many cries, prayers and pleadings.

Why, then, do I turn up my nose at these things, and ultimately... him?

As I reminded my boy, the Lord was reminding me:

Rejoice!  Again, I will say it, rejoice. 
Receive this gift, sweetheart and tell your daddy thank-you.
Even if it's not what you think you want.

The Road

This road I travel.  Week after week.  Mile after mile.
The bridge that links our town to the next... Where our church exists, where our community is.

Yet the drive has become far more than my foot pushing the pedal and staying the line.

At the bend, not one, but two signs glare against the East Texas sky, marring the beauty of the ribbon that lays before me.

Simple.  And so gut-wrenchingly complex.

XXX.

Two.  As though one were not enough to contain enough darkness to soothe the soul that trucks by.

Realizing this would be the path I would take over and over, I have asked the Lord over and over to strike them down.  To render them useless.  To heal the brokenness that exists within the walls.  To have beauty come from ashes.

One night... One is unlit.  No lights within.  The darkness had fully take it over, yet it was a victorious darkness.  No more business, no more lostness except innocence.

The other, I still pass.  Asking the Lord what I might do besides plead with him.

He answered, but unexpectedly so.
 A man, hauling out the trash.  Pressed slacks, ironed button up.  The keeper.

Does he know Jesus?  Has he ever heard the gospel?  Oh, how beautiful the feet of those who bring good news!

And to bring the good news to him would take entering in.  Lowering.  To cross the threshold that so deeply divides my world from his.  To literally put myself in the middle of black-hearted filth so that he might hear of a glorious light.

I wrestle with this.  Could I?  Should I?  But if not I, who?

And the Lord whispers... Jesus. 

To bring the glorious light, he left the heavenly for the dastardly.

Not only for me, but for him.
Jesus entered my world.  Saw my hardened heart.  Knew my wicked thoughts.

How can I not, knowing what all he has done for me?

Food War

This is an untangling of sorts. A confession of thoughts from the past year that recently hit home.

 Food as a struggle now when it never has been.
 I know I’m in the minority with the things I’m about to say below, so raise your eyebrows and move on.


I’ve never struggled with weight, with counting calories, with loving/loathing food. I don’t own a scale and couldn’t tell you what my size is.
I have never had an eating disorder, never felt “guilty” for eating dessert and have never made a resolution to eat better.


I know – with all my “nevers” my pendulum is so far on the other side, my clock isn’t even working properly.



All that said, I’m coming to a place where food is becoming a source of contention; burdensome… Where I feel judged and where I don’t feel joy or enjoyment.



The cares and trials of this world, i.e. the trends, are hitting hard and I’m watching several close to me fall in line with what the world would tell them is good and right.
And it is draining the very joy out of what God tells me to do to his glory.



All too often, the conversations that surround me are about what non-bread tastes most like bread, how your kids shouldn’t have dairy or soy, how caffeine is killing us all and on and on I could go.



We add “free” onto the end of a word as though gluten-free and sugar-free has set this captive free. In reality, it’s only causing us to fall back into slavery.

 Think about it. The more boundaries you build, the more fences you erect, the more lines you draw, the less space you have. 
The less space there is to run free, to revel and frolic, the more your worship suffers.


 Why?                                                                                                                                                   
Self-imposed rules never bring joy.

Why?                                                                                                                                            
Because when we rely on culture and ourselves to tell us how to live our life best, we ignore the Creator, Sustainer and Life Giver who truly does know best and for freedom has set us free.



Hear me. Going back to the basics is grand.
Becoming not so reliant on stores can be a good thing.
Personally, I have high hopes of doing many things myself, right off my own land. (Nigerian goats and 10% butterfat anyone?!).



But, if my endeavors cause me to become prideful or judgmental or adopt a “my way is the best way and I can’t BELIEVE you don’t do it…” attitude, then I need to pause.

 

Reflect.


Realize the idols I have set in my heart and repent so that I might glorify God in all I do rather than myself.



Truth be told, here is where my assurance lies:
When I stand before the Lord, his concern is not whether I gave my kids organic strawberries or not; whether I drank coffee or not even whether I heated up my leftovers in the microwave or oven.


His concern will be for how I lived my life according to HIS will, doing HIS kingdom minded business here on earth.



So for me personally, that means choosing the non-organic strawberries so my financial resources can go further to someone literally dying for a piece of bread – gluten-free or not.

And for me personally, a cup of coffee, leftovers heated up in the microwave, or pizza picked up from the local Italian restaurant can be a form of worship for me, stirring my affections deeply for the Lord.



Those things can make me stop and just praise a God who is so amazingly good.

And that because of his goodness, despite my badness, had His one and only Son bear my sin and shame so that I might have eternity in heaven with Him.




So for encouragement for the weak hearted and the judgmental:
Spend some honest time with the Lord. Read through Romans 13 and 14 and lay your life over those verses.

Ask yourself some hard questions. What boundaries does the Lord give regarding eating? How are we to view other people and the choices they make eating? How do our choices in food and eating reflect the freedom we have if we are found in Christ?



For some of you, there might need to be some change. You might need to take away some things from your daily intake and some of you might need to add some things to your daily intake.

For me, I'll continue pushing back the world I feel so heavily weighing in.
I'll continue to give thanks to a Father who created all the smells and tastes and sights that accompany a good meal and seek him on what I may do best to make much of him - no matter if it is a store bought cupcake, frozen chicken nuggets or homemade enchiladas.



Whether it is this or that - keep in mind it is for his glory and your good. And his grace is unending.



                                        Matthew 15:11 and 18

                                        Hear and understand:
                it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person,
                          but what comes out of the mouth...
                what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart
                                  and this defiles a person.

Atheism

Can I be honest?

As God-fearing as I am, as passionate as I am about Jesus Christ, I love reading articles written by atheists.

Why? 
They scare me.
They scare me to think that they have valid points.  That what they are writing makes sense.  That I can understand why they came to the conclusion that God is pretend.

But for the grace of God, there go I.

It pushes me. 
It pushes me to examine my beliefs.  It pushes me to to not take what I'm taught at face value.  It pushes me to pray harder that I would not fall away, that I would not be overtaken by the cares and trials of this world.

More than all those things, it pushes me to be honest with my kids.

To tell them to doubt.  To tell them to question.  To tell them to seek.

To tell them God is not offended or surprised by their questions.
And to remind them that when they have those moments of confusion, they will simply be loved.


It's not up to me to save my kids but I have been called to teach and to train them.
So I will give them truth as it is revealed to me.  Truth that has stood for thousands of years as the trends of this world change minutely.

It's not a one-size-fits-all and God most certainly does not fit in a box.

So, as a challenge to the unbeliever, read the Bible.  The Holy Bible.  In it's entirety, in context and see if maybe, just maybe, the god you've read about in articles and heard opinions on is nowhere close to the God of the Bible.

And, as a challenge to the believer, read the Bible.  The Holy Bible.  In it's entirety, in context and ask the Lord to reveal more of Himself.  Stop using it to puff yourself up and start using it as a tool to learn how to engage the disengaged.  Jesus can teach you.

Fear

Words have impact, even when they are little.

They especially have impact when an assumption is made or an expectation is in place.

The saying goes, when you assume, you make the first three letters of the word out of you and me.
And when expectations don't happen, there is a huge letdown.

But, what if your assumption and expectation was legitimate?  What if you thought a + b = c?

Only then to find out, in this case, no, no it doesn't.  And the pain hits like a sledgehammer.

And then that pain gives birth to a different type of pain which reminds you of the fear you've been suppressing which reminds you of the burden you're carrying which reminds you of the pain.
It's a cycle, a vicious one at that.

In the days that followed sending in the application for Jake's job, if I dwelt on it, really dwelt on the fact that if he was selected for the job, he would be gone, I felt as though the bottom of my world had fallen out.

I learned quickly to not even think on the next month or the next week or even the next day.  Today was the day I was in and I would focus on that.

When I shared my feelings of despair with my sister in law, she so wisely stated, "Yes, this should be hard.  The two of you are one.  It is a separating of your union."

Yes, indeed, a tearing of sorts.

There are many times a day I have to remind myself to breathe.  To stop, count ten seconds in and ten seconds out.

I will come home with the boys from being out and not realize I've been operating in high stress mode, near panic only to walk into what we know, what we've shared with Jake, and have comfort and peace wash over me.

As the boys started articulating their fears over bad things happening because their daddy is gone, I got to a place where I was frustrated and did not deal with them compassionately or gently.

Yes, their daddy is gone.  Yes, it's for a long time.  Yes, this is our reality right now, so can we move on please?

The Lord gently started revealing the anxiety I was walking in with my husband gone.  He brought me to a place where I had to acknowledge that yes, I was scared.  Yes, I didn't feel safe.  Yes, my heart hurts.


And the boys needed to see it is ok.  That they are not struggling alone and their fears are valid.

The other night, an expectation, a hope I had came crashing down.
 An event, a very important one that is happening; an event that because of Jake's absence is going to be awkward, emotional and just plain difficult.

And now, because I made an assumption of certain roles and was kindly told "Nope" what would have been painful anyways has now been compounded with what feels like rejection.

Can I be honest?  When those seven words popped up on my phone being preceded by a "try to make you feel better before I drop the bombshell", I felt dumbfounded and stupid.

The stupid that makes your heart hurt.

So, I've gone into protection mode.  My protection mode is to retreat.  To roll up into a ball.
I want to set my pride aside, I really do.

But in the midst of this pain, all the other pains that I have been dealing with superficially - going to church, prayer, loss of community, safety, leadership, large groups, having to tell someone my husband isn't here - have hit me like a ton of bricks. 

Something so closely knit, the separation has been heavily felt.

Lamentations 3:21-28

But this I call to mind,

and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,

his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

great is your faithfulness.

"The Lord is my portion," says my soul,

"therefore I will hope in him."

The Lord is good to those who wait for him,

to the soul who seeks him.

It is good that one should wait quietly

for the salvation of the Lord.