Knock~Knock

A few weeks back as I found myself the passenger in a truck that was driving the inner city streets to hand out lunches to the homeless, I heard it.

Knock~Knock.

As I moved through this past week, having learned a story is playing out, extending grace to said story, along with the people in it, I hear it.

Knock~Knock.

Self-righteousness.

Smug and proud.

I don’t do any of this. It’s not me who lives, but Christ in me. So where do I get off thinkin’ I’m all that and a bag o’ chips?

Because I’m human.

It’s my default position.

“Look at all these people driving around, living their lives, as if no one around them is in need.”

“And look at me and how I’m giving and serving my God in preparing and handing out these lunches.”

“I know this story is going to bring out judgement and criticism, along with drudging up the past.”

“But not me! NO WAY! God has done such a work in me that I’ve taken the higher road on this one!”

In all honesty writing this out makes my stomach turn. I have to acknowledge it though. Call it out in the open.

The old me would most defintely not be handing out lunches to homeless people. They’re a bunch of addicts who chose to do the drug, or drink the booze and lost everything in the meantime. They just need to pull themselves together. I mean really, just look at them.

The old me would most definitely not be extending grace. For one, I personally don’t believe you can offer someone something that you don’t already possess. I would have been trying to control the situation with all of my judgemental wisdom. I mean really, just look at the past if you want to know how it’s going to pan out.

Stomach churning. Again.

Knock~Knock.

Who’s there?

Self-righteousness.

Jesus, can you get the door!

 

 

A Glimpse of Heaven?

 If what we call love
doesn’t take us beyond
ourselves, it is not
really love.
If we have the idea
… that love is characterized
as:
cautious,
wise,
sensible,
shrewd,
and never taken to
extremes…….
we have missed
the true meaning!

Oswald Chambers

Love ~ I heard last week that it’s not hearts and roses and sunshine, but it’s messy and hard and controversial.

I think Hallmark and Hollywood have done us a grave disservice as to what love is. And maybe it’s wrong to blame a company? After all, human beings are behind the company. And we don’t like hard things. Or messy things. We prefer neat, tidy and perfect! You know, the impossible to attain way!

My perception of my Heavenly Father is that of a God who had a crazy plan for His creation. His lost and weary and sinful and stubborn and far away creation. That plan was hard, messy and continues to be highly controversial.

Why did He do it?

Love ~

He didn’t hold back. He didn’t protect Himself in sending His Son to us. He went all out. He gave all. He went to the ends of the earth to bring us back to Him. Knowing ahead of time that many would reject Him, He gave anyway. He gives anyway. The sun shining and the rain falling on the just and the unjust.

So what does that mean for us, as men and women living here on the earth, claiming the name of Jesus Christ, in the variety of relationships we are in every day?

Someone wrongs us and we shut them out?

Someone hurts us and we turn them away?

Someone fails and we close the door?

One more strike and your out?

No more soup for you! You been here for hour! (sorry, an old Seinfeld joke)

Are we not called to live differently? Are we to sound like the rest of the world?

Or are we called to be salt and light? Were we told this would be easy? Or was it compared to a narrow road?

If I reach out to another human being in love, by the love I first received from God, and that person hurts me, what do I do? Let them have it? Close my heart off to them? Carry grudges, resentment, bitterness and hatred?

What if God did that?

Where would I be?

Where would you be?

What if I reach out to another human being in love, by the love I first received from God, and that person hurts me, and I forgive them? Because their words and actions are unable to take from me what God has so freely given to me in Christ. And I am so connected to my Heavenly Father that I do what He wants me to do. And in doing so another human being catches a glimpse of heaven?

(This post is about a scandalous love, I’m not talking here about boundaries that are needed for the safety of another in violent situations, I hope this was taken in the context of which it was written.)

God’s Curve

“I don’t think the way you think.

The way you work isn’t the way I work.” God’s Decree. Isaiah 55:8 MSG 

One day last week I was driving a particular section of road that brought back a vivid memory and in an instant ~ a revelation. Dontchya just love it when that happens!

Back in November of 1997 my family and I moved from a small college town in Northern Colorado to the big metropolis of Denver. I was scared outta my ever lovin’ mind! I’d never driven on the interstate and now here we all were, the caravan of cars and trucks packed to the gill with every thing we owned.

In the town I grew up in there was a limit to the city. There would come a time if you were driving long enough (which back in the day wasn’t all that long) the buildings, shopping centers, and fast food joints started to get few and far between. That’s when you knew the country was on the horizon. There would be no more convenience stores to fill ‘er up.

I don’t recall how long we had lived in Denver, but not long, and I was out looking for a McDonald’s, when I came upon this particular section of road that was massive. The street was so wide across, the car dealership was so far off the street compared to the compact and cozy feel to my former town. I was driving a curve and could see nothing ahead, I distinctly remember thinking I must have hit the “city limits” and would need to turn around because I would find nothing else.

Turns out that curve opened up to a whole new stretch of city. And yes, I did find a McDonald’s that day! If you ever have the priviledge of visiting Denver, Colorado and can make it up to Green Mountain at night time to check out the city lights of this beautiful city……you won’t be disappointed!

So last week as I’m flooded with the memory I see how much our life of faith is like this. Of course, it could just be my life of faith, but as unique as I like to think I am……I know I’m not. 

We come to God, in all the numerous and diverse ways we do, but our minds have limits and we naturally, but ignorantly, stick those on Him. Like my small town mind in a big city. Maybe we wake up on day to find our life circumstances on a curve, we can see nothing ahead, maybe we’ve hit His limit and we will need to turn back. Because there is no way we will find anything.

Whoa Nelly, not so fast! We are in the metropolis of God now, that curve in your life is about to open up to a whole new stretch of Him and His goodness, faithfulness and love.

I’m sure now I’ll see God’s goodness in the exuberant earth.

Stay with God! Take heart. Don’t quit. I’ll say it again: Stay with God. Psalm 27:13, 14 MSG

From My Wounded Story To His Bigger One

“….she progressively came to grasp that her painful inner experience was an essential part of living out her mission.” 1

In recent weeks I have become emotional at the overwhelming evidence that the whole of my past experiences are beginning to make sense in how God has prepared me for this very time. Between amazing conversations, the timely reading of a book I’ve known about for a year, and people crossing my life path in ways only God could bring them, a veil is being lifted from the eyes of my heart.

“He (Jesus) tells you that this moment couldn’t have been forced or rushed or manipulated to come one second sooner.” 2

I can’t go back and describe in detail the when’s, why’s and where’s, but I can tell you that most of my life I have felt like (and been) the rebel, as well as received the label from others. Always the one fighting the establishment, whichever “establishment” it happened to be at the time; be it church, school, or corporate america.  I haven’t “fit in”, even when I tried (which wasn’t often). Honestly, there have been times I’ve relished the label, but mostly because I didn’t fit in, so I felt there was no other way. Fitting in was and continues to go against my grain.

But you see all these years, in the deepest crevices of my soul, I presumed that those “establishments” with their standards, rules, policies and whatever else I was rebelling against, was to ultimately be my end result as well.  When I came back to Christ, I carried these presumptions with me, along with lots of other unsightly baggage. I won’t go into all the stories, but every time I tried to “fit in” a door was SLAMMED shut in my face. I’ve had many an angst filled talks with God about why it wasn’t working for me; me and and all my preconceived notions as to what it looks like walking this Christian life out.

“You call yourself a free spirit, a “wild thing”, and you’re terrified someone’s gonna stick you in a cage. Well baby, you’re already in that cage! You built it yourself….Because no matter where you run, you just end up running into yourself.” Breakfast at Tiffany’s 

My preconceived notions of what God, myself and others expected of me kept me caged. I would force myself onto the paths of my preconception, only to have doors slammed in my face. Thoughts of, “I wasn’t made for this life” filled my heart.  And at the slamming of each door I would overflow with guilt. Lots and lots of guilt. Amidst the guilt though, there were prayers. Lots and lots of prayers. From what I thought were desires stemming from my own wounded story, I prayed, “Lord here am I, send me”, to the hurting, hopeless, running and scared. I would pray one way (my desire) and then force another way (the preconception). It’s no wonder I spent many a day in fear, confusion and weariness.

In these recent days God is bringing me people……hurting, hopeless, running and scared people. People who would not seek solace in the stained glass buildings, for fear of their looks and tones of judgement. The sign out front says, “come as you are”, but they know, based on past experience, it’s a lie. It won’t be long before the “come as you are” crowd turns on them and becomes the “you ought to” crowd. When I’m faced with the opportunity to pour grace on these people exactly where they are in their life and let the love of God come through this cracked vessel I am, not only aware of my utter need for Him, but charged with an energy that can only come when a dream that has been formed for decades is now getting to be lived out.

“God dearly longs for the day when he gets to hand you the ticket, smile and whisper into your ear, “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hand this to you. Have a blast! I’ve already seen what you get to do. It’s better than you could have dreamed. Now hurry up and get on that train. A whole lot of folk are waiting for you to walk into your destiny and into their lives.” 2

1 -  Written about Mother Teresa in the book, Come Be My Light

2 – From the book TrueFaced written by Bill Thrall, Bruce McNicol and John Lynch

The “God-Bless-You” Man & Steve

“The one thing, on which we can all agree,
is that God is with the vulnerable and poor.
God is in the slums and in the cardboard boxes
where the poor play house.
God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives,
and God is with us if we are with them” – Bono

As my husband, Bryan, and I were handing out lunches last weekend, there was one particular man standing on the corner, I rolled down my window as we pulled up and handed him the bag and water. He had dried snot on his upper lip and dried tears around his eyes. He was not wrapped up in appearances, his life was about survival and when you’re life is about survival, the snot can stay. He looked at me, I could see sadness and shame in his face, and he said to me, “God bless you.” My overwhelming emotions were lodged in my throat as we pulled away. I tear up now thinking back on the memory of this man, this, “God-bless-you” man.

And then there was the group of folks sitting up against the building on East Colfax, opposite the lane we were driving, so we drove a little further and seeing no one, turned around to go back. Bryan pulled into the alley next to them, rolled his window down and hollered out, “You guys hungry?” “YEAH!” “Well I’ve got some lunches here to pass out!” The lady in the bunch, with drunken glazed eyes stumbles towards us with an, “Are you serious with this?” Maybe she hadn’t eaten in a couple days and we were the timely angels to her alcoholic binge that kept her from remembering how hungry she was, on every level. The rest of them got up, smiles on their faces, walked towards us. Hungry, on every level.

The leader of the pack spoke up, “Hi, my name is Steve!” and stuck his hand into the opening of the driver side window for Bryan to shake it. I wanted in on some of that, so I reached across Bryan’s chest, hand extended, to shake Steve’s hand too. He starts in with his story, happy to have someone new to talk to:

“I have a bucket over there – he points - lots of people ask me why I keep my bucket, you wanna know what I got in my bucket?”

“What’s that?”

“My Bible. I love my Bible, I read it every day. I’m reading Matthew now.”

“I’m reading Matthew too!” I say with a big grin.

“Every night I go to sleep, I’m homeless you know, I ask Jesus to wake me up in the morning. And when I do, I wake up with p.m.a., do you know what p.m.a. is?”

I try to guess with, “Prayer mightily answered?” Thinking, if he woke up, his prayer was answered, right?  Hey, it was kind of a crappy guess, but this is what I come up with on the spot.

“Nope. Positive mental attitude. When your life goes into the negative, you gotta take it to a positive. I’m a math major.”

I’ve thought alot about Steve since. I don’t know his story, but something has taken him to the streets and I come away with 2 things:

1.) He had a more positive attitude ( even if he did have a little help from the bottle) than some Christians I know who get to sleep indoors and eat 3 squares a day. Myself included.

2.) I can’t wait to see this guy in Heaven one day! We can chat about our first meeting and he can tell me about all the times Jesus woke him up the next day and the next and the next.

As a final note, I’ll say that I think I fell in love with Jesus a little bit more that day. Any time Jesus proves Himself  to be bigger than the box so many place Him in, I get all giddy and excited! As I envision Steve, dirty and cold, laying his head down to sleep somewhere outside, possibly in a drunken stupor, talking to Jesus, asking Him to wake him in the morning. He’s not in a church pew, not signing up for a Bible study, or going on a mission to a third world country (this situation is his third world country). But I know, without a single, solitary doubt in my mind that Jesus is with that man.

And that, my blog readers, is outstanding!

OUTSTANDING!

Brown Bags Of Grace ~ Part II

You might want to catch up here if you haven’t read Part I yet.

The great thing about God is that He knows. He knows you. He knows me. He knows our lives, our wounds, our stories, and He knows how He made us. I’ve been getting the hint lately that maybe He’s had me in all the places I’ve been thus far to push me outside the comfort zone. I’ve always wanted to live out my faith differently than that which I’ve seen. Something I wasn’t always aware of, I was too busy running.

If you lined up a group of 20 people, in front of me, I would pick out the dirtiest, most tattooed, pierced and foul mouthed one in the bunch. And I’d be stuck for life. It’s kind of been a theme, if you look back on my life. I used to think it was me being rebellious and it could have been partly that. But, I’m beginning to wonder if it was God’s idea for me all along. When I tried to fit in with the popular, pretty and pompus people, I was miserable. Mind you this is wisdom I have only in looking back.  

“I was hungry and you fed me,

I was thirsty and you gave me a drink,

I was homeless and you gave me a room,

I was shivering and you gave me clothes,

I was sick and you stopped to visit,

I was in prison and you came to me.

I’m telling you the solemn truth: Whenever you did one of these things to someone overlooked or ignored, that was me – you did it to me.” Jesus speaking in Matthew 25: 35, 36 and 40 in the Message.

As I wrote in Part I, I’m not so sure any of this was my idea. I don’t have that great of a memory. I don’t like to say, “God told me to do it.” That just sounds strange. But, I will say I’m simply doing what I believe God wants me to do right now in my life. And so, here we are.

In December it was shredded BBQ sandwiches wrapped in foil, a banana, a candy cane, a packet of hot hands that you can stick in your gloves to keep your hands warm for up to 12 hours, and a bottle of water.

This time around:

 

 

Ham, turkey and cheese sandwiches, mayo and mustard packets (free from 7-11), a pickle, bag of chips, packet of valentine candy hearts, 2 coupons for a free meal through Step 13 (a program here in Denver to help get homeless addicts back on their feet), chapstick and a bottle of water.

To say it was pure joy putting it all together would be an understatement. My mother told me that it was a good thing I did, that I could have used that money on something else. To which I replied, “I’ve spent years spending money on “something else” and it got me nowhere.” Time to do somethin’ different with what I’ve been given. After all, isn’t that the point?

Both in December and this weekend, my husband was the driver. It’s not safe for a woman to go handing out bags of food in the inner city alone. I don’t want to be afraid, but I also don’t wish to be stupid either. The need is great, the men and women are everywhere, I’m only one person (well 2 if you count my husband) and I (we) only had 12 bags. I love looking these people in the eyes, seeing their absolute gratitude. Gratitude unknown to most of us, we’re such complainers! The interactions are mere seconds, but there were two men that stood out to me. One was Steve, the other I’ve named “God-bless-you man”. I will write about them tomorrow.

I’ve already decided it will be breakfast burritos next time.

I really struggled with whether I should share all of this or not, I don’t wish to brag, simply bring some inspiration to you and those whose lives you touch.

 

Brown Bags Of Grace ~ Part I

Classic rock was playing low through the truck speakers.  The warmth below ground hitting the freezing temperature above brought billowing steam out of the storm grates. We drove by parking lots with piles of snow that must have reached 12 feet into the sky. The north side of buildings constructed icicles that were more like long swords of ice. The days temp didn’t get out of the teens.

We wound our way through the inner city surrounded by Mercedes Benz’s and Cadillac’s; trendy eating spots and run down holes in the wall; gated high rises with banners advertising their price tags from $400,000 to upwards of $2 million and some old brick houses that had more character than $2 million could ever buy. There were those walking with their fancy scarves covering their faces, trendy knee high boots, arm in arm with their signficant other. And those in clothes that haven’t been washed in weeks, months maybe. Dirty and unshaven. Many of the men having the appearance close to what we assume Jesus looked like. 

I am reminded of the interview I had last August with the Denver Rescue Mission. In need of a job and wanting to finally make a difference with the work I do, I was excited at the prospect of being employed there. My excitement bubble was burst quite violently when a pre-requisite to employment was church membership and/or regular attendance. I would cry big, fat tears on my drive home that day. I had not been prepared to be attacked or have to defend my faith in Jesus based soley on my lack of church attendance. It also left me feeling like I’d never be able to make a difference. Every thing, every place, and every one I’d met in these recent years wanted to define, not just the difference I could make for me, but also my faith. They wanted to restrict the ways I loved Jesus or could be involved in helping others. I’ve heard lots of you-have-to’s and you-must’s, a non-comformist’s least favorite phrases, by the way!

The idea actually came to me around Christmastime 2009. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s a great idea.” Fast forward to Christmastime 2010 and here comes the same idea. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, that really is a great idea.” Now, we’re at Christmastime 2011, just a couple months ago. “Hmmmm. I wonder if this is even my idea, I don’t have a very good memory. Okay. Yes. Absolutely. I’ll do it.”

The weekend of December 14th and 15th was our first trek out. I’d been having tooth pain and reactions to the pain medications. When it was all said and done I said, “I’ll be doing THAT again and I won’t wait till Christmas 2012! Maybe every other month!”

And I started thinking on all the ways I could do this.

Which brings me to this weekend, almost 2 months later.

To be continued…….

 

Prove It!

The train of thought that began the idea of this post started a couple of weeks ago when someone spoke directly, albeit unknowingly, to my shame. I’ll get to that in a moment. I am reading an incredible book called “Into the Depths of God” by Calvin Miller and read the following doozy:

“We shall have Him in our hearts. We will then need no Christian jewelry to tell the world of our cravings. They will see beyond jewelry into our lives.”

Sometimes words can  jump off their page and slap me clean across the face. This was one of those times.

Why are we, in general, so obsessed with proving our faith, externally? Do we lack the trust in the One who is quite capable of making the change internally at first? Are we afraid that if we don’t prove our faith, externally, we aren’t really what we say we are? Or what we hope we are? Talk is cheap, as they say. The proof is in the pudding. I don’t really know what that means, it only makes me hungry and want dessert.

Anyone can purchase Christian jewelry. Anyone can wear a cross necklace. Doesn’t prove a thing, just shows they may or may not have good taste in jewelry. And by some of the cross necklaces I’ve seen, whether they have money or not.

As I’ve journeyed through these last four plus years, I’ve been guilty of trying to prove that this former rebel is now a Jesus lover. Gotta make sure everyone knows, wouldn’t want anyone thinking I’m still the old me. God forbid, right?

Which brings me to the words spoken to my shame; in front of me, about me, but to someone else, “She had a mouth on her.”

Yup. That’s me. Remind me again. Please. I haven’t heard it often enough these last 42 years. Ugh.

Afterwards the cries of my heart were full of questions like, “Can You redeem me?”, “Why do I have to be like this?”, “Will I always be this way?”, and “Will You ever use my mouth for Your glory?”

In the days that followed I felt the urgent need to prove myself, externally and by all means, with my mouth (or keyboard). Maybe by proving myself, my shame would disappear. But who am I living for? God? Or others? I am not responsible for others perception of me! And furthermore, God redeemed me. It’s done. My redemption is complete. I rest in that. Not in someone else’s words of me. Wow! There’s a life changer for this people pleaser/approval addict!

Yesterday I had a conversation with a woman I’ve never met face to face, a 2 1/2 hour conversation. She spoke a new and fresh perspective into my world. I still feel lighter, my soul was lifted. I am grateful. I am not a rebel. And I do not have to prove to you, or anyone else for that matter, that I am not. I immediately started changing my facebook profile info, my “about” page on this blog and another one I have.

As a former rebel and present Jesus lover, I don’t have to push my old rebel reputation or shove Jesus into your face (which is never appealing). I simply have to trust Him to live through me. God alive, dwelling inside of me. He is the proof.

Do you know that this feels like?

It feels like freedom.

Do you know how it tastes?

Scrumptious!

Motion Sickness, Claustrophobia & Faith

Two weeks ago I rode along with my husband into the foothills west of our home for a craigslist purchase. It was after he had returned home from work, so it was dark. We weren’t into the windy and unlit roads too long before I got dizzy.  He took a wrong turn and all I see is the pavement illuminated by his truck lights.

The dark sides of the mountain just outside my window and the darkness coming from his side started to feel like they were closing in on me. My brain was rattling inside my head, the truck kept weaving back to the left, forth to the right. Ugh. If I’d had dinner it probably would have considered returning.

I’ve never had a panic or anxiety attack, but I started freaking out inside of myself. Like I wanted to start screaming, flailing my hands around and break through the darkness. I could sense my eyes wanting desperately to see more than they were able. Maybe then I wouldn’t feel so badly? Maybe then I would start to settle down? All the while I was wondering how long before my husband turns back around? If he thinks he took  a wrong turn, then correct it already! I’m freaking out here! And that’s when it hit me……..

This closely resembles my walk with God lately. And lately as in the last 4+ years, lately.

There was nothing I could do to control the truck, the darkness, or how long we’d be there. The battle ensued within me, I didn’t want this. I wanted more. More light. I want to see!!! Oh please, more light! And stop weaving and winding and turning and spinning. I beg you. “GET ME OUTTA HERE”!, my soul seemed to be crying out. Not being in control is icky. Not knowing is even ickier. Yes, ickier. It’s a word.

If you asked God, He’d tell you I’ve said very similar things to Him in these 4+ years. Then He would smile and tell you how often I’ve also asked Him to work out His will in me and my life.

As some of you may already know, my life took a turn when I handed over control in late 2007 and even now when I write in my journal almost daily, “My life is not my own, I am Yours.”

Doors, closed.

Roads, blocked.

Windows, well, some of those are opened. Whew!

He doesn’t light my path any further than that which I need to see. Just like my husband’s truck lights on that dark mountain road a couple weeks back.

I admit that one of my biggest weaknesses is others approval and affirmation of me, my choices, changes, journey, etc. If I’m not receiving those things, I feel I’m headed in the wrong direction. If I do receive those things, well, all is good in my faith. Did you notice anything missing in the previous sentences? Like, God, maybe? Imagine a follower of Christ seeking His wisdom, His affirmation and His encouragement! Weird, huh?

I have example after example after example of my not receiving approval and affirmation. Seems kinda perfect for Him to hold that out of my life so it doesn’t get fed, don’t ya think? Yeah. Me, too.

About a week ago I was lamenting to Him, “You’re trying to “kill” me, aren’t you?” Meaning, death to the flesh. No more Rebekah. No more idols of others approval. Just Him through me. Nothing else matters. Only Him. That makes sense, but it ain’t easy! I’ve lived most of my life wanting what I want when I want it. Releasing my white knuckled grip on that has been a battle, and at times a fierce one.

Just yesterday I read in Oswald Chamber’s, My Utmost for His Highest, “…..once someone begins to hear that call, a suffering worthy of Christ is produced. Suddenly, every ambition, every desire of life, and every outlook is completely blotted out and extinguished. Only one thing remains…..”

Reading that and looking at my life since late 2007, many things started to come into focus. I’m not saying that I’ve suffered in a manner worthy of Christ……but every ambition, every desire of life and every outlook has been completely blotted out and extinguished. Taking in these last 4 years as a whole I can see for certain that one thing remains.

I hope you have a rockin’ blessed weekend!

P.S. My husband and I have already come to the conclusion that I will no longer be riding along for anything unless it’s day time and in the city. And yes, that makes my rattling brain happy.

 

God In The Checkout Lane

I walked into the grocery store for a few specific items. A quick in and out. But I noticed on my phone that I had missed a call from my oldest daughter, so I returned her call and proceeded to chat away with her as I meandered through the aisles.

I could NOT for the life of me find the frozen strawberries. Why is it so danged hard to find certain things in the grocery store? So you get lost and find more food you can buy compulsively? Yeah, I thought so. Although I wanted to be bad and get me some pop-tarts but forgot them. I was not sad about that fact until this morning when they would have tasted scrumptious with my coffee. And yes, I am a grown adult, why do you ask? 

There was more talking and walking. My quick in and out turned out to be not so much. Finally we get off the phone and I head to the checkout. Normally when I have just a handful of items I do the self-checkout, but this time I was buying some dog bones from the meat department and wasn’t sure what kind of tag they use for it, as I’ve never purchased them before. So I went to the fast lane. I was next. I LOVE being next!!!

She rings up my items, I pay and as I’m still standing there putting the receipt in my wallet the lady in line behind me places her little hand held basket up onto the counter and says to the checker, “I just realized I left my wallet at home so I’ll need to go home and come back.” She and the checker continue with a question/answer period and I feel a strong sense to help this poor lady out.

I would be so frustrated if that were me. I live in a big city and driving anywhere is kind of a chore. She was going to leave after doing her shopping and now here, in the checkout lane, about done. Ugh. But, I don’t want to interrupt. And I don’t want to butt in. And I don’t want to embarrass her. And I don’t want to offend or belittle her. As much as my insecurities and fear tried to talk me out of it, I couldn’t shake the strong urge to just speak up, “Good grief Rebekah…..SAY SOMETHING!”

Obviously all of this is taking place in a matter of minutes and while I’m trying to talk myself out of it, I’m checking out her basket. Maybe 7-10 things in there? So, I speak up:

“How much you got in there? Maybe $25?”

“Oh not even that!”

“Well then let me just help you out here, there’s no need for you to go all the way home.”

Enter shock. Awkward pause.

“Umm, may I have your name and address so I can pay you back?”

“Oh my goodness no! It’s what we do, we help each other.”

Enter shock. Both the woman I am helping and the checker.

My heart is smiling. I’ve always loved to shock people.

The items are rung up. The balance is $14.53.

The woman says, “Thank you so much!”

The checker says, “That was really nice of you!” Twice.

I’m trying to dumb it down a bit. Gotta stay humble, this wasn’t my idea. And there’s no need to make a big deal out of it. I mean goodness sakes, has this country gotten so selfish and self centered, stressed out and busy that doing something like this is cause for two….TWO…..”that-was-really-nice-of-you’s”?

I told the woman, “You are very welcome! Just pay it forward when you get a minute.”

And I walked out.

On cloud nine.

Telling God how awesome He is.

And how fun it is to be in on His comings and goings.

As I’ve thought back on it these last 20 hours(ish), I see how timely it all was. When we speak of God being sovereign over all the earth, I think we may view it in much too big a way. Kind of nebulous and far off. But He was in this detail. He had it in the bag all day. Heck, He had this worked out before the foundation of the world. Mind boggling, eh?

God….in the checkout lane.

Awesome stuff folks!

Choosing & Going

Today I am choosing to:

be quiet.

find rest.

be filled.

let go.

Today I am going to:

seek Him.

get away with Him.

walk with Him.

learn from Him.

So many things came at me these last few weeks. I’m not passive (mostly, haha), I kind of attack things. I’m a give-it-all-my-ghusto kind of gal. Tenacious.

As I sat on my couch last night devouring a book written by Max Lucado, by the way, have you read any of his books? Worth your time and money. Any of them. I promise. Anyhoo, where was I? Oh yes, sitting and devouring…..that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks……exhaustion. Like someone pulled the plug and everything I had, the energy I’d been using for all these things, left me in one fell swoop.

*sigh*

I awakened at 5:30 this morning, having slept all through the night, no waking and thinking; waking and praying; waking and worrying…..and I still felt tired. The bones are tired kind of tired. Weary.

One of my favortist verses in the Bible is Matthew 11:28-30, I’ll give you the Message translation:

Are you tired? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me ~ watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.

I believe that Jesus was not only inviting us into this irreligous rest on a forever kind of basis, but on an any time we need it basis as well.  He knew…..He knows, that life and all it entails can take it out of us. I’ve tried many a way; I’ve travelled many a road to find the free and light life. None of them worked. I’m grateful for that knowledge of myself and the way I live by default, the way I choose that comes naturally….because it is in that when I know it’s time to stop and seek Him out. For He has the Life I need today. He has the rest, the freedom and the light that my soul is aching for today.

So if you come looking for me today, I’ll be at Jesus’ feet, learning all about His unforced rhythms of grace so I’m better prepared for the next turn in the road that no one can see but Him.

Grace be to each of you today. And always.

 

What A Ride!

I don’t know if it’s learned behavior, a habit, my own way of self-protecting, or all of the above. But, my first instinct is to run and hide. Not only is it my first instinct, I have plenty of scenarios where I could tell you I did just that. Ran and hid.

When I first got onto facebook last summer and was filling out my profile information I put in there, “I’ve been known to run from my past, but I’m finding out that if God wants you to face something you will, but He won’t make you do it alone.”

The last 2 weeks has taken my faith into places I wanted to run and hide from. Uncomfortable places. Stinky places. Scary places. Places I would have preferred not go or have to face. Ever.

All my life I’ve had this yearning, a deep and soulful yearning, to walk the walk not just talk the talk. I’ve missed that mark on more than one occasion, believe me. Yet those moments make up the woman I am today. Imperfect but compassionate. Street smart but humble. Goofy with a deep heart.

When I hide I become stagnant, unmoved and unchanged. I become quite comfortable talking the talk within the protective wall of my own making and in that I become paralyzed and unable to live out anything I’m talking about. My desire is NOT to do that. My natural instinct is to do JUST that.

Enter – the last 2 weeks. Nearly every day of these last 2 weeks. I’m not talking about some random event that took place for an hour and then it passed. In my face, not letting up, almost as if life was asking me, “Okay, what are you gonna do with this?”

I’m not going to pretend I know if it was life asking me, God asking me, or the devil himself. But the question was posed and I was faced with a dilemma…….

Am I going to hide? Self-protect? Keep talking the talk? Or am I gonna do this? Like for real do this?

In each instance it forced me to seek out the Father. If you don’t know by now, I really suck at making good decisions. Left to my own devises I’ll screw it up. Every. Single. Time. I’m impatient and selfish…..those traits serve me and my purposes only. Nothing and no one else.

The most recent incident made me want to crawl down in a hole, curl up in a fetal position and come out when Jesus returns. Seriously. The negative talk I can speak to myself is uncanny and so comfortable. But wait……

Is this what Jesus came for? Did Jesus die on the cross for my sins (and yours) so I could be scared? Scared of others, scared of myself and my past?

You should probably close your ears for this one: NO HE DID NOT!!!

Holla!

So I seek Him, again, and I walk out onto that limb. It’s surrounded by prickly branches of my past. They hurt, but I must face this thing head on. I speak my peace, in love, and I walk away feeling like I was stretched. Whew. Breathe.

A couple hours later I’m pondering it all –  I was asked to face something reminiscent of sins I’d rather have tossed into the depths of the ocean never to rear their nasty head in my life again. I saught out Papa and He walked me through the right thing. The honorable thing. There was no hiding, no ignoring, no self-protecting and no running. 

On the other side I am finding wide open spaces I never would have found otherwise.

No shame….only peace.

No fear….only love.

No hiding….only freedom.  

What a ride!

 

 

 

Entering Into

In recent days I find myself smack dab in the middle of something I have no idea how to handle and am not sure I ever will.

Perfect.

That’s exactly where He would have me, eh? Nudging me ever so closer to His Heart when I don’t have a clue. Keeps me off my high horse when I must seek Him to take the next step or speak the next word.

I’ve wanted this. I’ve asked for it. I’ve prayed for it with words and I’ve prayed for it in groans only the Spirit can understand (unbeknownst to me). There have been moments when I have cried out to the Father that He allow me, at some point, the priviledge and the honor, to be to someone else what He has been for me. I don’t think this blog allows a post large enough to write out what all that entails, but love is a biggie and grace….oh His grace!!

At some point in this post I should mention something about my desire, as a human being, to stay clean and comfortable. And how I have been known to stay that way at all costs. Keeping at bay all things that have been known to make a mess. Which includes muddy shoes in a kitchen and people with emotional baggage.

God Almighty Himself entered into the unlcean and uncomfortable. I’ve tried to imagine what it meant to leave eternity and enter the bounds of time and be surrounded by the falleness of this earth and all its shattered people. But He did it. And He did it all for love. He didn’t keep Himself at arms length for fear of what our stench may do to Him. He came rushing and embraced us as the leftovers of the pig-pen dripped from our ragged clothes and dirty limbs.

I’ve not lived a religious life. Nor have I lived a life accepted by the Christian culture at large. As I journey on I find that I’m less and less inclined to do either. I’m unorthodox through and through. I haven’t fit into mainstream churches, schools, or corporations. The battle has been fierce in my mind and heart as to the how-come’s and what-for’s about it all, as I wonder if the point was to just force myself into the box handed out.

But now. This. 

A conversation a day. Monday. Tuesday. Today. This friend reaching out across the phone lines. Reaching out with the pig-pen dripping now from their raggedy life and stinky limbs. Asking the big questions. Does God exist? And if He does, why this? And what about that? I’m angry. I’m sad. Nothing makes sense.

I listen to the stories. I respect the anger. I validate the ache. I honor the honest questions. And we laugh together. Real and deep pain without some laughter hurts too much.

“I had a comin’-to-Jesus meeting.”

“Really, with who?”

“God.”

“Great!”

This is exactly where you should be. Letting it all hang out. Giving voice to pain is the first step to finding some healing in it all.

However, their questions are making me face my own beliefs, doubts, struggles, story and it brings an increasingly pressing discomfort. As I sit on the phone I can literally feel my own faith stretching beyond its available limits and I’m stunned that I’m being asked to do this. I don’t have any religious experience to help here, or Bible verses memorized to attach to this person’s questions. But I want more than anything, have wanted, and have lived a life that will help walk this out with them.

The thing I’m most surprised by is how I’m naturally inclined to want to fix it, slap a band-aid on it and make it all nice. Ahh there, don’t you feel better? Cuz I know I do. Your pain makes me uncomfortable so I want to give you a few verses, some cliche’s, and ask you to take those and call me in the morning. No sitting with them in it, just get better already! Will ya?!?! 

In the intro to Job in the Message translation it reads: …..”instead of focusing on preventing suffering, perhaps we should begin entering the suffering, participating insofar as we are able – entering the mystery and looking around for God……we gain hope, not from the darkness of our suffering, not from pat answers from books, but from the God who sees our suffering and shares our pain.“

So if you come looking for me I’ll be somewhere in the midst of a friend’s suffering, sharing their pain. Like God did and continues to do for us. For love and by grace…..oh His grace!

Wheredya Get Your Fruit?

Have you ever had your mind made up then read something entirely different in the Bible and had to ask God, “Are you sure?”

I found myself reading on the fruit of the Spirit over the weekend based on something Oswald Chambers had written: “The bearing of fruit is always shown in Scripture to be the visible result of an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ.”

Those words grabbed me like someone trying to get my attention. A hand on shoulder, gently but firmly, standing me still to look into their eyes as they were speaking words so important they shouldn’t be missed. “Did you catch that? Bearing fruit is always shown in Scripture to be the visible result of an intimate relationship with Me. Bearing fruit. Do you need to go back and see what fruit that is? Go ahead, I’ll wait.”

Love ~ Joy ~ Peace ~ Patience ~ Kindness ~ Goodness ~ Faithfulness ~ Gentleness ~ and Self-Control.

I confess I am stuck much of the time. Can you visualize a car being stuck in a rut? Try as you might the wheel just spins in the rut, spitting out mud, rock and dirt. You think you’ve about got it, the wheel is coming up out of the rut, oooohhh—nope, the rut sucked the wheel back in.

I don’t want to speak blame or responsibility anywhere, life has been what life has been and I have taken from it what I have taken from it. But this thing, this idea, this rut in my mind tells me fruit ain’t it. Having an intimate relationship with Jesus bears church attendance, verse memorization, a whole Scripture study and knowledge henceforth, etc. But fruit? Nah. Couldn’t be.

Recently I have come across some words of a man who uses Scripture brilliantly, so much so that I couldn’t carry on a normal conversation with him. Why? Because I don’t know Scripture well enough to use it brilliantly. Which always brings condemnation…..my lack of knowledge regarding anything always brings a negative flow of words on my life. And yet the flip side is I am not the least bit interested in learning Scripture that well. Why? Because too often I’ve seen it come with arrogance, cruelty, criticism, judgement, hostility, anger, and division. Ick. Who wants that? Once you’ve had a taste just the smell hanging in the air is enough to make your stomach churn.

This man who claims to be smack dab in the middle of God’s will and plan for his life and his families life called a self-confessed ex-evangelical athiest a piece of trash.

Seriously? Who says that?

A piece of trash? I can’t even begin to reconcile that! A man who claims himself to have received information from the Holy of Holies, knows the Bible inside out, claims having the edge on God’s will, calls another human being trash.

If that’s what holy, sanctified and righteous looks like, I don’t want any of it. And I’ll bet my life that ex-evangelical athiest had painfully similar experiences, so they left the building. I’m with ya pal….I’ll stand on the sidewalk with you any day of my life.

It’s the brain child of my summed up life experiences that tell me this is what happens when you follow the religious leaders and their ten-steps-to-a-holy-life list. It has NOT been common for me to meet someone claiming to be a follower of Jesus Christ, be well versed in the Bible and have them exude love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, or self-control. 

Sad but true.

The commentary on Galations 5:22,23 says……”If we want the fruit of the Spirit to grow in us, we must join our life to his (see John 15:4, 5)……..”

“join our life to his”

John 15:4, 5 Is Jesus speaking and it reads: Remain in me, and I will remain in you. For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine, and you cannot be fruitful apart from me. Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.

“you cannot be fruitful apart from me”

“apart from me you can do nothing”

If a person consistently displays fruit that is in direct opposition to the fruit of the Spirit, it’s gotta make ya stop and think……. 

As for me, I’m praying my life be joined to His by His grace. It’s the only way any of this will make any sense. I desire His fruit. Nothing else will do.

A Prayer For Prodigals Everywhere

If you’ve been around any length of time you know that I decided to quit writing here and go write elsewhere. And now you know I’m back. I can’t shake the prodigal story, the relentless call of our Father to the lost, the leaving and the left already. His astounding patience and closeness to us while we’re wandering, walking and wounded creates in me a desire to do kart-wheels, which I can totally rock by the way.

Since I began this blog back in the fall of 2010 I’ve had parents of kids who bailed and don’t want a thing to do with any of it, contact me with their story and requesting prayer. I have a deep understanding of their struggle and I love those kids. I have a ripped corner of a larger piece of paper with names, dates and ages of these “kids” that I use as a bookmark in one of my devotionals. At one time I considered starting my own special journal for these prodigals and their families that I meet or hear about. But that consideration lay dorment. Until this past Wednesday.

Standing in line at the post office, which I wasn’t going to stop off at first, I comment to the lady behind me that I thought Christmas was over based on the length of the line. To which she replies Christmas should be all year and I agree. Pausing to think that those words sounded like they came from a fellow Christ follower. After a few more random banters, we go back to silently standing in line. A few moments later she asks me, “How long have you had your prodigal tattoo?”

My prodigal tattoo is noticeable in most shirts I wear. It’s located just below the base of my neck on my back. I had it placed there for a very specific reason. One – it was my way of defining me (the term prodigal is my story and the verse listed of Luke 15:20, 24 is God’s story) and Two – I hoped to start conversations with it. I got this tattoo on a very meaningful date back in 2009, 2 years after my return Home. Not one person has asked me about it. Until now.

We carry on a discussion, she tells me of her brother who is a prodigal. Immediately I feel bonded to him in some respect. Part of me wants to meet him. I ask for his name. Our conversation is cut short when I’m called to the counter.

I want to give her my contact information, if for nothing else but to show love across the boundaries of two strangers who have something in common and my deep hearts desire for those like her brother, who remind me of myself. So I find a scrap of paper in my purse, which is a feat in and of itself because I’m far too O.C.D. to have anything unecessary in there! Ha! But I find one and I scribble my info down, finish my business at the post office counter, turn back to where she is, hand it to her with the invitation, “Anytime!” She thanks me. I walk away.

I don’t want to make a friend to tell her all that is wrong with how her family has treated her brother, followed by book, chapter and verse. I don’t want to make a friend in hopes of converting her brother. I won’t ever be that person who connives her way into the hearts and lives of people only to drop kick ’em and give them the how-come and what-for, explaining all the reasons why you need to be in church this Sunday. I don’t even know how well I can communicate this on paper, but I love to help, encourage and offer hope. That’s the extent of it. Any other motive is pure assumption on your part. Or theirs. Whoever “they” might be.

As I continued on with my errands I found myself sitting in a parking lot weeping over the whole thing. My life. My path. My stubborness. My giving God the finger for nearly 3 decades. And now.  They were not tears of sadness, or regret……gratitiude. Yes, that’s it. I cried tears of gratitude that He can and will. Oh can He ever! 

In the tearfest I decided I would buy a journal that very day. It would be my way of chatting with the Big Guy and His Kid about those He so desires to return Home. Not to rules, regulations, lists of requirements a mile-long, or any specification that you-better-get-it-right-this-time-buddy-or-else. But to the Father who is awaiting their return with anticiation and hope, filled with compassion and love. To come home to the Embrace. Ahhhhh. Feel the warmth baby!

So if you are reading this and know you’ve communicated with me your child or family members struggle, their name is written in my Prodigal Prayer Journal. If you are reading this and wish to have me pray for someone you know, anyone, it doesn’t have to be a family member, you can reply at the bottom of this post, or send me a private e-mail at: graceandgiggles@comcast.net

I don’t think I have any special prayer powers. I don’t think that God listens to me anymore than He does you or anyone else. It’s just another way I can offer love, help, encouragement and hope. I am honored to be part of this Bigger Story!

 

 

The Walking Wounded

They are everywhere.

Sitting at the desk in the next cubicle.

Driving behind us in traffic.

Walking their dogs on our neighborhood streets.

Serving us latte’s and mocha’s at our local coffee shop.

Eating dinner with us around the family table.

And even lying right next to us in bed every night.

They are the walking wounded and they carry with them anger and hurt over broken dreams, failed success, and God.

The words I am about to say come through the lens of my own experience. I can speak no other words. Not everyone has felt the exact same way I have, but there are similarities. The suggestions I give come from the desires unfulfilled in my own heart and life.

I was a very angry girl and it came out in all kinds of ways. The way I dressed, the music I listened to and the words I spoke. Initially it was a way of rebelling against the strict rules of conformation, that’s how I saw it, and I went in the polar opposite direction. Trying to find out what was real and what was not. Most teenagers get into that phase where they are trying to find out who they are outside of their parents, their beliefs and examples. It happens in the homes of most families, Christian or not.

The stories I have come across and the families I have known, there seems to be a death grip of fear in the Christian home when a child decides to choose a different path than the one laid out before them. In recent months I have read numerous books on the story of the prodigal son, found in Luke chapter 15. I never cease to be amazed at the willingness of the father to let the son go. No lecture, no questions asked, no discipline. He just gave him the money and watched him leave.

There are, no doubt, a million reasons why Christians families fear their children’s choice, but what if it all came down to trust? Can God be trusted with your child’s life? Go ahead, ask yourself that question, I’ll wait……

Can our Heavenly Father be trusted with your child? Or your loved one?

The Almighty who sent His only Son into this broken and filthy world?

The Great I AM who broke the barriers of eternity to lay, as a helpless baby, in the messy manger?

The Alpha and Omega who left His Heavenly home to be wrapped in skin and live within the confines of this earth?

Doing all of that out of a desperate desire and faithful love to bring His children, His loved ones, back home to Him!

Can He be trusted with the one you fear for?

My answer is a loud and resounding….YES! A thousand times….YES!

If you have a wounded one in your midst, love them. Ask God for His love to flow through you like sands through the hour glass. Ask God to keep you out of it and do His thing with you, your words, your life, towards that walking wounded.

Don’t ask them questions. Trust God.

Take your questions, your anxiety, to Him in prayer. Not to the walking wounded. Seek Him and allow Him to calm, comfort and encourage your heart.

Upon the prodigal’s return home, he had his speech all planned out, he was hungry and wanted a good meal. His return to his father, initally, looked selfish and self-serving. After he speaks, the father has no response, no reprimand, no list of expectations, or specifications for the boy. Only love. He calls out for the robe, the ring, and the sandals. In that culture, the best robe in the house would have been the father’s. The boy wearing it would have been a sign to all that he had been welcomed back into the family. And for what? What did the boy DO to deserve being part of the family again? Nothing. That’s the point.

The walking wounded that you pray for.  The walking wounded that you fear for. The walking wounded you think might be too far gone. Lay no expectations at their feet, memorized Scripture to their ears, and toss no cliche’s at their wounds. Love them. If you need to create a boundary, pray for wisdom to do that. If you want to create a closer relationship with them, pray for guidance to do that and…..

I read a profound statement this morning that I’ll end with…..

Remind God of His entire responsibility.

2011…..A Reflection

What in the world happened to 2011? Weren’t we just celebrating New Years? I think time starts to really fly the older we get. But here we are bringing 2011 to a close and preparing to welcome 2012 with all its uncharted territory and upcoming adventures. 

On December 29, 2010 I had no idea that the coming year would bring what it did. So often I felt like the kid in the red flyer wagon being pulled along by Someone bigger, stronger, and more capable than I. At times I was giddy with laughter, other times I was begging for them to stop. I love having fun, but I despise feeling out of control.

2011 brought with it changes unseen, changes unmade, connections anew, connections of old, loss of dear friends,  and the beginnings of a healing that’s had it’s time and place for much of my life.

On January 30, 2011 we received the phone call that our long time and dear friend Jeff had passed away. He was 45 years old. A heart attack. It was and continues to be a shock, though time has its way with heartache. He was the guy who was always welcome in our home, and he knew it. Life gets crazy and unstable and he knew he could call us for a room and the door was open. He was the guy my husband could call with anything and he’d be there to lend his ear. We miss and love you Jeffrey!

It was shortly thereafter that 6 years of self-employment became too burdensome and the hole Jeff left in his company brought with it a stable job for my husband. Thank you Jeff! For paving the way for Bryan, unbeknownst to you how it would all play out. Your compliments and praise of Bryan had him already known with many. Life sure can be funny that way!

Both of my daughters had huge, life altering changes this year. I am so incredibly proud of both of them. I love you girls!

A short trip this summer to see some friend’s opened the tidal wave of old friendships renewed and refreshed that continue to bless my days. Angi Oestrich is one of the many gifts God gives that validates His workings down to the tiniest detail of life. I love you Ang!

From that reunion my attitude changed towards signing up for facebook. I’d been so shamed. So scared. So isolated. My past haunted me and made my decisions for me daily. This year catapulted me out of that way of thinking. I can only hope 2012 is more of the same. I am not defined by my past. Sheesh, could you hear all that baggage crumble to the ground? Ahhhh, feels much better!

The doors that would open because of facebook were not expected. Some good, some not so good. All very necessary though. So many friends from nearly 30 years ago and still living in the town I grew up in. I just HAD to see them. So a reunion was planned. I called my dad to see if it was possible to stay with he and his wife during my 3 day trip. When out of nowhere the words came……

“I could leave early that Sunday morning and come see you preach.”

I hadn’t thought about it, analyzed it, feared it, or even second guessed my words once they were spoken. It was the peace I had that I knew it was time……

More on that in a minute.

Now that I was on facebook there was this one girl whom I had lost touch with that I needed to find.  Looking back on life she was “that” friend. I searched and sent out crazy stalker like messages to people I didn’t even know looking for her. No response from anyone until a few days before my trip. It was her husband, we needed to talk, he gave me his phone number, I called him immediately. The news was unexpected, as it usually is, but she had passed away back in March 2007. Damn those emotional mack trucks. I was stunned. How could that be? We were the same age and I’m still alive?!?! Life has a funny way of bringing perspective through heartache.

During my visit and reunion to my hometown (September) I met up with her widow and son, as well as, her mom and dad. Thrilled to bits to see them all! I loved them way back when and I love them now.

Which brings me to this past weekend. My husband and I were invited to her widow, Kevin’s house, along with other family I hadn’t seen in decades. Since we were going to be so close I wanted to see my dad preach again, being Christmas and all.

Bryan and I sat in the 100 year old pews and I watched my dad interact with people as I said to my husband, “It’s good for me to see him, I need this, it’s all very therapeautic and healing.”

 

 

I don’t pretend to understand much but there is a purpose in it all. I couldn’t have done any of the things I did in 2011 until it was time, until I was ready. Seeing my dad preach is the Mount Everest of my life and I accomplished it. Twice! Though not alone, Someone was pulling that little red flyer wagon I was sitting in. Every single thing prior to each moment prepared me. And so it is with life and with you. Some people try to push, prod, and manipulate you into being someone you aren’t; into walking a journey you aren’t yet ready for, don’t let them. Be also gracious enough to allow others the freedom to be their own person and walk their own path. There’s a purpose in it all.

May 2012 be the year each of us trust our prepared moments in life and the God that can bring the best at the right time…..

To everything there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones,
and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate;
a time of war, and a time of peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Testing, testing 1-2-alright already

There in prison, they bruised his feet with fetters and placed his neck in an iron collar. Until the time came to fulfill his word, the LORD tested Joseph’s character.  Psalm 105:18,19

It’s hard to be kept in the background at a time of crisis.

Do not flinch from suffering; bear it silently, patiently, resignedly; and be sure that it is God’s way of infusing iron into your spiritual life. F.B. Meyer

Today marks another day of my needing deep and real encouragement in my soul and that’s what I read? I wasn’t given some straight path or open door, I was given those words instead. As if Papa was telling me, “My beloved, I AM here. I hear your heart and I know your struggle. This is where I have you for now and I will not be moved. This time is not wasted, though you do not understand.”

Honestly most of the time I feel neglected, ignored, unnecessary, and invisible. Which is hell on the flesh and my pride. In those very tangible moments the battle begins again down in my heart. The questioning, the bantering with Him. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer everything that’s in direct opposition: I want to be heard, noticed, necessary and seen. There have been so many times in the past 6 months it’s become downright comical! No matter if I sense His leading in my doing, saying, reaching out, or caring for someone, or if they are my ideas……those things don’t come. They will not come.

If God is infusing iron into my spiritual life something must be removed, or at the very least, redeemed first. You see I think it’s my bend towards rebellion that makes me believe I’ve missed the boat, the point and His Voice entirely. Another presumption is that when God calls you to do things. He blesses it, grows it, and opens the way.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart; do not depend on your own understanding. Seek his will in all you do, and he will direct your paths. Proverbs 3:5,6

I’ve already sharedin another post that I need convincing so I may trust God with all my heart. And rarely do I know how to NOT depend on my own understanding. Who of us really do? Or atleast don’t struggle with our understanding of things. I do my best, by His grace, to seek His will in all that I do. It’s His directing my paths that can get my goat.

Is He directing my path to not go anywhere? Did the Department of Transportation request all construction be halted? Often, too often frankly, I feel as if I’ve been commanded to sit down and the world around me is moving ahead at warp speed. Not to mention the questions I’ve been asked that I don’t know how to answer. God forbid I sound like a religious nut to the non-believers in my family/life when they ask me something and I answer with, “I’m trusting in God and not depending on my own understanding. I’m seeking His will in all that I do, so that He will direct my path.” I don’t wish for my inability to have an answer to keep me from others. I don’t wish for my lack of understanding to stain my life’s testimony. I don’t wish for my fear to isolate me from the people God ordained to be in my life. I believe God calls us to more than that.

In all of this He has His method. In all of this He has His design. In all of this He has His purpose. I want to be smack dab in the middle of His will for my life, yet on the flip side of that I want His will to look, be, and sound comfortable, wonderful, wealthy and glorious. When more often than not, it’s routine, mundane and short on cash.

You must accept whatever situation the Lord has put you in, and continue on as you were when God first called you. 1 Corinthians 7:17

But you will not mind the roughness nor the steepness of the way,

Nor the chill, unrested morning, nor the searness of the day;

And you will not take a turning to the left or the right, but go straight ahead,

nor tremble at the coming of the night,

For the road leads home. (Unknown)

With those words I close. For the road, the path, He is directing is leading me, leading us, home. Once again He closes my fretting mouth and encourages my heart!!

Setting Your Heart

How do you wake up in the mornings? Do you live a life of luxury and wake naturally around noon? Sounds wonderful! Or do you have lots to do with even less time and use an alarm clock? That’s more like it!

I mentioned in my last post that I was in need of convincing and we’re still working on that…..Papa and I. He is faithful and won’t let up until His beloved is convinced of His extravagant love.  I also mentioned in my last post how I lose “my game” when I hear an off-handed comment by others. Well…..it happened in the wee hours of yestermorning. I was determined to get God’s take on it, so I went to Him and asked Him to encourage my heart, I so desperately needed it.

I cannot recall the exact details of how I got there, aside from His guidance, but I was reading 1 John 3 in my Message Bible and came across verse 18-20……It’s also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there is something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves.

“Debilitating self-criticism”, That’s what I DO!

“God is greater than our worried hearts”, I loved that and wanted to know more.

I grabbed my Life Application NLT Bible and looked up the verses……Even if our hearts condemn us. For God is greater than our hearts, and he knows everything.

My heart knows all too well how to condemn itself and I’ve believed most of the enemies lies about me. Because of my need of convincing, when I hear off-handed comments that validate the condemnation being spoken on the inside of me, I come apart at the seams. BUT GOD……does something alltogether more amazing! He shows me in His Word that He, God, is greater than my heart and He knows everything! Saweet!

Then came the commentary……..”How do we escape the gnawing accusations of our consciences? Not by ignoring or rationalizing our behavior but by setting our hearts on God’s love.”

“Setting our hearts on God’s love” – So instead of setting my heart on the off-handed comments, the self-criticism and inner condemnation, I set my heart on God’s love? It’s like a whole new way of thinking (Romans 12:2) That set in motion the mental and heart course for my day.

“Setting my heart on God’s love”

Throughout the day my mind would go back to the off-handed comment and the condemnation I presumed was in it and my inner condemnation that surrounded it and I would tell myself, “No, don’t set your heart on that! Set your heart on God’s love. God loves you.”

It’s like the alarm clocks. We have to set them. We don’t just wish they would wake us up when we need, or tell them to wake us up on time. We set them. On purpose.

As we enter the weekend with all its activities as we celebrate Jesus’ birth, some of you may be reminded by not so gracious family members or friends of your past or your lack of meeting their expectations. Will you promise me something?

Remember this post…..these words from your Father…..and that you’re not alone in your struggle on this journey?

Set your heart on God’s love. On purpose.

Merry Christmas!

 

 

Are You Convinced?

It took place at a small table at Wendy’s last weekend. The conversation between my mom and I. She, telling me a story that had a verse to it:

That is why I am suffering as I am. Yet this is no cause for shame, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day. 2 Timothy 1:12

“I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him until that day”

This man, in her story, was convinced that God would do what God promised to do. Period.

My immediate response was, “That’s IT! That’s what I need! I need convincing!” To which my mom asked, “What do you mean?” And I say, “I’m not convinced that God is okay with me. I’m not convinced that Jesus loves me today, the way I am. I think that God being God depends on me and what I do, the choices I make, the person I am.”

Are you convinced?

Merriam-Webster’s online says this about convince:   to bring (as by argument) to belief, consent, or a course of action.

I’ve been doing alot of arguing with myself. Tee Hee. I must work out this belief in my soul. Otherwise it is shallow head knowledge.

Later that night, after the conversation, the story, the verse and the revelation, I was watching the movie Seven Days in Utopia, which by the way is a slow but overall good movie. Robert Duvall’s character is mentoring a young golfer who has alot to learn and he says this to the young man: “You’ve got to find some conviction, an off-handed comment will throw you off your game without it!”

There it was again. A revelation atop another revelation. Off-handed comments throw me off “my game” all the time. People and their comments have power over me because I don’t have a conviction that God is God. I am not convinced that I sit safely in the Father’s Arms right here where I am in life. I presume that you are right and must tell me what, where and when because I’m not conivnced God cares enough to do for me what I can’t do for myself.

It happens in real life. It happens online too. It’s happened right here on this blog a few months ago.

As the saying goes, “If you don’t stand for something, you’ll fall for anything.”

I don’t want to fall for anything. I want to be convinced that God is able to guard what I have entrusted to Him. And I’ve entrusted to Him my life. Now and for eternity. So then what?

Where does one go once they realize they need convincing? Where does one go for some conviction?

.

.

.

.

.

UP. That’s where. I’ve been praying for convincing. I want my soul to be convinced, no matter the circumstance or off-handed comments, that God is God and He will do what He says He’ll do. Period. No wavering. No wishy-washyness. Only Stability. On His firm Foundation. 

Nothing rattles me because I am convinced in Him, not in people and what they do or say or think I should be doing or saying.

I can follow Him, not people and what they do or say or think I should be doing or saying.

I can love all people because of Him not based on them and what they do or say or think I should be doing or saying.

Just because someone tells me this, that, or the other doesn’t bring my convincing or my conviction, the Holy Spirit does that. Others may be used in bringing a revelation, but they themselves don’t bring the convincing in our hearts and convictions in our souls.

Are you convinced? Do you want me to add your name along with my own in my prayers to the Father? 

I pray for His grace and strength to keep our eyes on Jesus whom our faith depends from start to finish (Hebrews 12:2).

Period.

 

 

 

Construction Zone

Hello! I’m baaaack!

A few months ago I thought I was done with the prodigal story, so I shut down here and headed over to a new and different blog.  Thank you to those who followed me there! Your presence, encouragement and support means alot to me.

There wasn’t much writing done at the other blog before I lost all motivation, desire and inspiration. Life got busy and my last post was written on November 18th.

A couple of weeks ago I was asking God what He wanted me to do, between this blog, my inSpire~inCourage~inHim blog and something I have going on over on facebook. Each time I felt He was leading me to begin each thing, though learning to discern the difference between His voice and mine is a daily prayer.

As I was recovering last week from 2 teeth extractions, I felt Him nudging me to come back here to change some things and begin fresh and new.

The prodigal story. It’s His story.

The prodigal story. It’s my story.

The prodigal story. It’s where my heart and my passion is.

How do I walk away from that?

As I continue to make some tweaks and changes, I encourage you to subscribe, if you aren’t already, you’ll find the sign up button on the right hand side of this page.  And share this blog with anyone else you may know who is dealing with their own prodigal story, a spouse, or a child.   

Thank you!

Rebekah

Floating With Guidance

Have you ever felt like you weren’t the one doing the doing in your life? Like you’re floating all wobbly like and Someone else is guiding you through the next step and the next decision? That’s how I’ve felt the past 3 months. I’ve been doing things, and making decisions I never thought I would. And doing it in a non-chalant kind of way too, like none of the things have ever bothered me, or freaked me out, or scared the bejeezus out of me at any point in my life.

I’m making a trek in a couple days, to my hometown, for a reunion of sorts with some old friends I haven’t seen since probably 1985. The day will start off with a doozey of an experience, I do not doubt, for the first time in, say, um, 34 or 35 years, I will sit in a pew and listen to my dad preach.

Yeah. Sit with that for a minute.

Okay, minutes over.

I made that decision over a month ago, without thinking about it, analyizing it, or worrying about it. Like the Nike commercial says, I just did it. Haven’t gone back and second guessed myself at all.

If you aren’t blown over by this, you don’t know me very well. I’ve harbored anger and resentment for most of my life. Doesn’t that sound productive? Well, it hasn’t been. Which brought to my heart the desire to find some kind of resolve or closure. Soooo……

I planned on hitting up the house I grew up in, as well as the church and school I attended. I wanted to spend a little time in each place to release the emotions and the lies I’ve believed all these years in order to allow the Lord to replace them with His truth. That was my plan and that was what I thought I would do with the few days I’ll be there.

And then something shifted.

Typical, eh?

Since I created a facebook page, I’ve gotten in touch with some dear old friends (hence this whole trip to my hometown) except for one. She and I had met in 7th grade and we were like the rebel sisters. Oh the memories. In all my life I would have to say she was the girl I was the closest to for the longest amount of time; from 7th grade into our late 20′s. I have been sending messages to people I thought might know where she was and one guy I thought was her husband. Finally, last night I got a reply from him with some numbers, so I called at 10pm.

She passed away March 24, 2007. She was 38. A heart attack in her sleep.

It was a mack truck like experience. Certainly not the update I was expecting. I’ve cried off and on since he and I got off the phone last night.

In all my wandering around today, both physically and mentally, I heard this in my heart:

“Don’t look back”

The verse in Isaiah 43 came to mind. I looked it up in my Message translation:

Forget about what’s happened; don’t keep going over old history. Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new. It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it? Isaiah 43: 18-19

 And that’s when I knew what I needed to do…….Listen.

All this floating, deciding and Guiding outside of myself and Bigger than myself is beyond my realm of understanding. I don’t have a clue what God’s doing with it all. But here’s the kicker…..

If I’m consumed with old history, how can I be alert and present in the life I have NOW? If God’s about to do a brand-new something, if that something is bursting out, I for one do not, I repeat, DO NOT want to miss it. Obviously.

I cancelled my plans and have decided to keep floating with Guidance. Life seems to work out better that way.

 

A Ragamuffin Prodigal

I love prodigals. It’s instantaneous. I don’t have to know them personally. I don’t have to think about it. Pray about it. Wonder if it’s the right or wrong reaction. It just happens. I’m sure there’s something more to my reaction than I know right now, but today, we’ll leave it at that.

I know some of you have prodigal children. I want you to know I pray for them (whatever that may mean for you). I have their names written on the tore up piece of paper I use as my bookmark in My Utmost for His Highest. I see their names every day. My heart is with them in ways I cannot explain. 

In Brennen Manning’s The Ragamuffin Gospel he writes on the prodigal son (daughter) and I’m going to share what he said with you here today. His words are in bold. My interruptions are not

When the prodigal son limped home from his lengthy binge of waste and wandering, boozing and womanizing, his motives were mixed at best (ahem, I can vouch for that). He said to himself, “How many of my father’s hired men have all the food they want and more, and here I am dying of hunger! The ragamuffin stomach was not churning with compunction because he had broken his father’s heart (ahem, another vouching on my part). He stumbled home simply to survive (okay, lemme just say this so I don’t have to contine vouching for this and vouching for that……Brennan Manning’s got it right on with the mindset of the returning prodigal. Back to the story). His sojourn in a far off country had left him bankrupt. The days of wine and roses had left him dazed and disillusioned. The wine soured and the roses withered. His declaration of independance had reaped unexpected harvest; not freedom, joy, and new life but bondage, gloom, and a brush with death. His fair weather friends had shifted their allegiance when his piggy bank emptied. Disenchanted with life, the wastrel weaved his way home, not from a burning desire to see his father, but just to stay alive.

Digression ~ That hurts. Reading this last week I knew how right he was. Looking back on my return, that infamous day at my dad’s house in late 2007, I wasn’t in repentance mode, I was in survival mode. Complete survival. I had gone and done it. Ruined everything. Something in me knew I needed to reach out to Someone else in order to survive. End of digression.

For me, the most touching verse in the entire Bible is the father’s response (I’m standing up, clapping, nodding my head in 100% agreement with Brennan on this point here. The fathers’ response continues to change my life): “While he was still a long way off, his father saw him and was moved with pity (the NLT says the father was filled with love and compassion). He ran to the boy, clasped him in his arms and kissed him” (Luke 15:20).

Excuse me, can I intervene for a moment? This parable that Jesus spoke of is a picture of us and the Heavenly Father. Picture it, please, for your child who is a prodigal. Or yourself if you’re one……”he ran to the boy”, “he ran”. Oh sweet Jesus, I’m moved by that word picture. For all the junk this boy (and I) did, that father ran to him. Tremendous. No, tremendous doesn’t cut it. Wow! What a God we have!! Okay, back to the story. Again.

I am moved that the father didn’t cross-examine the boy, bully him, lecture him on ingratitude, or insist on any high motivation. He was so overjoyed at the sight of his son that he ignored all the canons of prudence and parental discretion and simply welcomed him home. The father took him back just as he was.

Me again ~ “simply welcomed him home”. If I was in a place where the Bible was illegal and I could only carry one page, stuck away in some secret place, it would be this section of Scripture. Every time I read it I become overwhelmed with awe and gratitude. It’s life altering. For those of us who have viewed the father so big and bad, always waiting for us to screw up. This story soothes that ache from the misconception I’ve carried most of my life.

What a word of encouragement, consolation, and comfort! We don’t have to sift our heart and analyze our intentions before returning home. Abba just wants us to show up.  We don’t have to tarry at the tavern until purity of heart arrives (Ummm, that’s REALLY good news ya’ll!!). We don’t have to be shredded with sorrow or crushed with contrition (although I will say from personal experience that does come). We don’t have to be perfect or even very good before God will accept us. We don’t have to wallow in guilt, shame, remorse, and self-condemnation.

I think that’s worth another look:

 We don’t have to wallow in guilt, shame, remorse, and self-condemnation.

One more:

We don’t have to wallow in guilt, shame, remorse, and self-condemnation.

And again:

We don’t have to wallow in guilt, shame, remorse, and self-condemnation.

Okay, one last time:

We don’t have to wallow in guilt, shame, remorse, and self-condemnation.

Even if we still nurse a secret nostalgia for the far country, Abba falls on our neck and kisses us.

Ouch. How’d he know? I thought that secret nostalgia was just that, a secret! Oh man.

Even if we come back because we couldn’t make it on our own (duh), God will welcome us. He will seek no explanations about our sudden appearance. He is glad we are there and wants to give us all we desire.

Tug Of War

Did you know it’s possible to play tug of war and never even get off your couch? It’s true! I just did it last night, in the comfort of my own home, no one even knew I was playing. Well ‘cept for me and Papa.

One of the thoughts running through my mind this morning has been the incredible freedom God has brought into my life through taking things from me. And not in a “huge-hand-from-heaven-came-down-and-tore-it-from-my-white-knuckled-hands” kind of take from me. But, in circumstances and a slow change of heart.  Did I mention slow? Yeah, cuz it’s been sloooowwwwww.

The manner in which I lived was complete bondage only I didn’t know it at the time. I’ve never been accused of being the smartest kid on the bus! So busy was I. Trying to prove I was something other than who I assumed I was (not that I do that anymore. Nuh-uh, no sirree, not me.) All the stuff I was accumulating which I thought was showing my monetary gain (by credit cards mind you), my success (um, does fake plastic success count?), my worthiness to be accepted into the “popular” crowd (whoever they are!), I thought it was making me BE somebody. And isn’t that what we all want? If we’re honest? Is to BE somebody! And of course that somebody is totally opposite from all the negative labels we’ve ever had handed down to us by parents, siblings, teachers, bosses, our own mind chatter, and dare I say, pastors. Eeek! 

If you get past all the muck of my silliness, laughter, insecurities, and striving for the American Dream through materialistic thoughts and lifestyle, you’ll see that I’m aching, deeply, for something more. Always have been. That deep soul cry that only God could know. And know He did. So, He started a work in me long before I even cared to notice Him. It’s okay that I say that He already knows how long I didn’t care, and I understand forgiveness has been mine all along, I only had to enter into it. But, as usual, I digress.

As I was walking this morning, I felt this urge to lift my feet up and rise above, literally, like floating, because I was being lifted up and out of. And I thought about the Israelites, man we talk about them alot don’t we? They were being taken out of bondage and guided into freedom. But nooooooooo, they wanted to go back to what they knew; what was familiar. Wah, wah, wah. I relate to “wah-wah-wah”.  Too many times to count have I thought, “If only I could have ___________ back, I’d feel a little better about ___________” Usually cars, clothes……paychecks. It’s all just me wanting familiar, wanting what I knew, because the unknown, following the Unseen is scary. So stinkin’ scary. But the freedom is uncanny. The weight of the world coming off my shoulders is undescribable. I’m fickle. I know.

I’ve often considered what I would take with me if suddenly I was told to evacuate my home due to fire, flood, tornado, etc. What really matters in my surroundings? In this nearly 1,800 square foot, 35 year old house, that I didn’t want to buy because I was too good for it (I told you I relate to wah-wah-wah)…..what matters? In an evacuation situation you aren’t certain you’ll have anything to come back to, so what are you gonna take?

My cat.

My safe with important documents.

My purse with personal identification and bank cards.

My cell phone. And because of articles I’ve read, my cell phone charger!

My Bible.

And the clothes on my back, whatever they are at the moment.

Of all the things I have around me, right now, as I sit here and type this, those things listed above our what matters. Nothing else in this house matters. Holy crap ya’ll!

I’m reading a book titled Ruthless Trust by Brennen Manning. I started it yesterday afternoon around 4:30pm and by bedtime I was more than halfway through it. Devouring it like the famished soul that I am. He writes this chapter on humble confidence and I’m blown away. Blown. Away.

 Here are a few snippets I read in that chapter:

~ Following Jesus, the humble in heart waste little time in introspection, navel-gazing, looking in the mirror, and being anxious about their spiritual growth. Their self-acceptance without self-concern is anchored in the acceptance of Jesus in their struggle to be faithful. They fasten their attention on God.

~ The humble woman is grateful for her successes but not discouraged  by her failures. She enjoys her gifts and readily admits her mistakes. She maintains a sense of humor, whether the news from Wall Street is giddy or glum. She faces her character defects without getting discouraged.

~ The spiritual woman does not fret and flap over opportunites missed, does not hammer herself for not working hard enough, and does not have a panic attack wondering whether she has received grace in vain. She lives in quiet confidence that God is working in her by day and by night.

So there I sat, on my couch, in the comfort of my own home, aching to ask God for humility because I know I need it, I want it. I was made for humility, not pride. But, scared out of my ever lovin’ mind, as the tug of war started between my flesh and my spirit…..

“Oh how I want this!”

“But, what is He going to take from you to get you there?”

“It doesn’t matter!”

“Sure, you say that now, but what if He takes something that you need?”

On and on it went. On and on it still goes. I believe that the deep cry of my soul will be answered. Why? Because it’s what He does. He comes to set the captives free. He knows my bondage before I do. So far, in my 42 years, He is the only One who has been able to free me, and though it hurts in the moment, it doesn’t hurt me.

Ya’ll, that’s just amazin’!!

 

 

The Mask

 

Is it because of fear that we mask
who we really are?
Are we afraid that someone will see
that we haven’t come very far?

Maybe we don’t know how to be real,
so we hide our hearts and conceal
all the mixed emotions that we feel.

Why such false images do we create?
Can’t we see how our hiding can isolate?
For to a perfect person, few can relate.
Marie Scott

A couple of weeks ago when I received the comment here that threw me for a loop, a thought came to my mind as I was reading it ,

“It really is no wonder we wear masks!”

I’ve struggled with writing ever since.

My blog, though it is not private, is a space similar to my own home. It’s where I am who I am. When I’m here, at home, I am what I am. I don’t try to appease my walls or please my furniture. I don’t go around trying to prove myself to my cat. I’m just moving and breathing through my day as I am. Some days are filled with utter glee. Other days, not so much. It’s human. And I’m human. I know, I know…..shocker, eh?

The person’s words have created in me a fear of how I’m coming across to you all. And if my fear, doubt and angst is too much. But then, what if it is? This isn’t your church, you’re free to leave the building, as it were. Why do I sit down in the comfort of my own home, to write on a blog that I created to share this roller coaster of a journey and wonder if I should be honest or not? If I were to write here with all the “sugar and spice and everything nice”, I couldn’t stand myself and if I were in your position I’d have to stop reading it.

As a little girl, my mother would tell my brothers and I, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” I’m surprised I ever spoke :)

Have you ever heard that we often give to others that which we want to receive? Coming from my side of the street, having been the prodigal who was angry with…….alot, I prefer honest bantering in regards to this faith journey. I can’t stick around when the conversation is shallow and wrapped with a nice little bow on top.  So, I give that which I hope to receive in return, a real and authentic expression of the journey. No masks. To share the astonishing things Jesus has done in me, as well as the things He has yet to dredge up and heal that I still carry with me, like a ton of bricks. But don’t worry, He will. As the verse goes, He makes everything beautiful in His time. HIS TIME. That beauty includes me. And you. Of course. Cool, yes? Yes.

So there it is, my desire to be maskless. And real and authentic about who I am and where I am. On any given day, with any given person.

Enter yesterday morning……

I had to contact a ministry I give to in order to change our bank account information. I’m on the phone with the gentleman, of whom I’ve never spoken to or met, and we are doing the idle chit-chat, changing numbers, etc. The business at hand is completed, I’m getting ready to tell him, “thank you and  have a nice day”, when he comes at me with this loaded question:

“is there anything we can pray for?”

Huh? Excuse me? When? Now? Where? What? I don’t understand! Are you talking to me? I don’t know you! Do you know me? Do you have any idea how messed up so many things and people are in the circle of my life? How much time you got sir? I mean really!

So in all my masklessness and authenticity I answer him:

“Uh, well, um, God’s actually been very good to us. And. Um. Well, no. I don’t think so, huh-uh. But, um, thank you.”

Nice one Beck.

Throughout the day I went back to that conversation in my head and reeled from the fact that I must have sounded like a complete dill weed. No, I have nothing I need prayer for. Life is just dandy. And peachy. And wrapped up with a nice little bow on top.

 

 

 

 

 

Music Monday

It’s been awhile since I posted a Music Monday. But, because I had a tremendous Saturday with 2 of my favorite girls in the world, I had to share here!

Some of my readers here are my friends on facebook so they’ve already heard the news and seen the pictures, but for the rest of you…….

I was chosen to replace a bailing friend and attend the Rascal Flatts concert here in Denver with my youngest daughter, in an open air amphitheatre. The weather was perfect. The music was awesome. The company was a blessing.

As I sat at my house waiting for her to pick me up, my other daughter called. She had just gotten a call from her boss, wanted to know if she could go with her to the concert.

What a hoot!!!!

It was a great time!!!

I’ll start with a picture and then an inspiring Rascal Flatts song about love.

That’s me on the left (obviously), Tiffany Marie is in the middle (25) and Brianna Michelle on the right (22). Love them to pieces!

uh-oh

It started last night sometime, the negativity and complaints rolling around inside my head. It’s not like I was talking to God……wait a minute…..yes I was. In my spirit, I was being that whiny kid. And as usual, what you lay down with, you wake up with. Yay!

I was feeling unimportant. Unvalidated. Unassured. Unloved. Unneeded. Unwanted. I’m that person who thrives on feedback. No, that’s a lie. My very breathe is dependant on someone, anyone, stroking my ego, feeding my pride, filling my empty spots. I don’t know if I’m loved unless you tell me how completely and totally amazing I am. Or how proud you are of me. Or what a miracle God has been performing in my life. How am I supposed to know I’m on the right path unless you reassure me. Constantly.

My husband and I, in the beginning of our marriage, a hundred years ago, used to get into arguments because, as he would say, “You always need to be patted on the back. For every little thing you do.” Ugh, don’t ya hate it when they’re right? I do. But, alas…..he was. I think I’ll tell him so when he gets home tonight, oughta make his Monday!

If I reach out to someone and don’t get a response, I take it personal. If I encourage you and I don’t get a reaction, I take it personal. If I…..wah, wah, wah!

You get the point.

Last week, as I was deep into the Ragamuffin Gospel, I underlined these words:

“when the craving for reassurances is stifled, trust happens”

A line that immediately brought conviction, awareness and comfort. The conviction of knowing I crave reassurance; an awareness that tells me this space I’ve been in is stifling it; and a comfort knowing that, though it may be hard pressed to see right now, trust is happening.

As I sit down to have my quiet time this morning, I was lamenting, still, in my soul, over a few things imparticular. Asking God for some kind of validation. I was not prepared for what He had coming. I never am.

In My Utmost for His Highest (from September 11th) I read these words:

“notice the kind of people that God brings around you, and you will be humiliated once you realize that this is actually His way of revealing to you the kind of person you have been to Him”

uh-oh.

Sometimes I feel like some people don’t actually MAKE time for me.

uh-oh.

Sometimes I feel like my words of praise, encouragement, or love fall on deaf ears.

uh-oh.

Sometimes I feel like no matter what I do or say, some people will never change.

uh-oh.

Are ya’ll seeing a pattern here?

Ahhh, but it gets worse. These words came next:

“now He says we should exhibit to those around us exactly what He has exhibited to us”

Webster tells me that exactly is: in every respect, altogether, entirely.

uh-oh.

He has exhibited to me, always, patience, forgiveness, faithfulness, trustworthiness, mercy, grace, and love. I said always, because I know that today, but upon this prodigals return, I didn’t know that. And what did He exhibit to me then? Well, read Luke 15, it’ll knock your socks off. But in the meantimes I’ll tell you in one word what He exhibited to me (to all of us)…..embrace.

Ya wanna know what Webster has to say about embrace? You sure? Okay then…..

~ to take up especially readily or gladly

So, when someone treats me the way I treated and still can treat the Father, I’m to exhibit a willingness to take them up readily and gladly? Showing them patience, forgiveness, faithfullness, trustworthiness, mercy, grace and love?

uh-oh.

I was watching a program yesterday on the 9/11 Memorial at ground zero, after which I decided I must fly there ASAP to see it. But, I digress. Chris Ward, the Executive Director for the Port Authority of NY/NJ made this comment (regarding once the construction finally began in 2006), “that led to a period of time with people saying, “What’s going on down there?” When so much had to be done where people couldn’t see, below grade, to get that foundation in place. And now you’re seeing the incredible tangible result of that hard work.”

As he spoke those words I saw the spiritual angle of it immediately. Below grade, under ground, in our hearts, no one can see it. Getting the foundation put in place is hidden, but it doesn’t mean there isn’t anything happening.

It’s His slow work, as I wrote last week. In me. In you. In all of us. Even the prodigals you know personally.

Can you imagine if we understood, I mean really understood, what He has exhibited with each of us personally and individually, and exhibiting that, exactly, to those around us?

uh-oh. hell just shook.

A Love Reception

You saw me before I was born.
Every day of my life was recorded in your book.
Every moment was laid out
before a single day had passed. Psalm 139:16

I had read Psalm 139 and then read some other things before proceeding to write in my prayer journal. If it weren’t for my prayer journal, I don’t think I’d know how to talk to God. The journal started out of ignorance and fear, and it turned into the best way, for me, to be myself with the Father. Not someone else’s me or their idea of what I ought to be, just me. And Papa. Love that Guy!

Anyhow, I pray alot for His help in preparing me to hear Him and His convictions. It’s like I’m such a bad person, and I’m so prone to doing the rebellious, stubborn, and defiant thing, that if I’m not sensitive to His promptings I’ll just screw it up. You can’t trust me, I’m going down the wrong road and I’m going full speed ahead. That’s my perception of me anyway. So, there I am writing, praying and in my head I’m thinking I’m about to write, “Father, prepare me to receive Your convictions today”, but instead I write, “Father prepare me to receive Your love”, Huh? I stop. I lay my pen down. I stare at the words that were just written. And I think about them.

Prepare me to receive Your love.

Prepare me to receive Your love.

Wow! Who wrote that???

He loves me. He loves me. He loves me? He loves ME? Wait, let me go back to that Psalm…….He saw me before I was born, before a single day had passed, every moment was laid out. Knowing all that AND HE LOVES ME???

WHOA Nelly!! Let’s think about this for a minute….

The Creator of this astounding world we live in, the Father of Jesus Christ loves US? Knowing full well every day of our life, and He loves us? I don’t know about you all, but I haven’t been all that loveable. I mean, hey – I’m just sayin’! I’ve not only done some rotten things, I’ve said some even rottener things. And if that isn’t bad enough, I’ve thought far worse things. Ugh! AND HE KNOWS THIS STUFF? AND LOVES ME ANYWAY? AND WANTS ME TO RECEIVE HIS LOVE?

*deep breathe*

I want that. I want to receive His love. I want to be filled to the brim with His love. So much so that every single solitary thing about me, my life and my relationships stem from having received His love. Can you imagine the ripple effects in my circle of influence for my having received God’s love? Good gravy!

I haven’t been able to get it off my mind since. And of course I’m getting it from every direction. Just this morning I was reading in a book and I come across these 3 words: “receive His love”. Again? Wow! Someone’s trying to tell me something, eh? Shortly thereafter, I’m sitting in a parking lot, doing some waiting and I’m scanning my radio stations (I do this a lot, something better might be on another channel) and I stop on a sermon, which I rarely do and I hear this: “genuine love is anchored in Christ”.

Holy frijoles moly! That’s profound! If I’m anchored to Christ, everything I do comes out of that. No matter who I come across I can love them because it’s not me trying to love, it’s Christ, Who I’m anchored to, loving through me. You guys, this is crazy revelation time!! Maybe this is old hat to you, but this is life altering stuff for a prodigal rebel who despises legalism, rules, standards and lists! Anything that points me to Christ gets my attention lickity split! Hey – I’m just sayin’!

Receive His love!

Anchored to Christ!

He knew it all before a single day had passed. Before I was even born, He knew I was gonna bail. And not just bail a tiny bit…..cuz I don’t do tiny ya’ll, I do big. And I bailed big! Not for 2 or 3 years either, we’re talkin’ decades folks…..DECADES! He knew and He let me be born anyway. AND HE LOVES ME! Would it be strange if I said good gravy twice in one post? No? Good.

Good gravy!!

But that’s not the end, oh no……I was reading while I was eating my lunch this afternoon and la-la-la, reading away, nice stories, warm your heart kind of stuff and then……WHAM!

“we discover our true selves in love”

SHUT-UP!

I know, right?

For all the stinkin’ years I spent out in the world trying to be whatever it was I was trying to be. Spending an ungodly amount of money on crap I didn’t need. You know the quote….”spending money I don’t have, on things I don’t need, to impress people I don’t like:”, yeah, that could have been on my tombstone, had I died earlier, which of course, I’m glad I didn’t. Trying to find my niche somewhere, acting like the chameleon to whatever the surrounding circumstance and/or people required so I could be loved, accepted, needed, and important. Ugh.

But now……NOW…..

I receive His love, become anchored to Christ and find my true self.

This journey….it’s a real kick in the pants!

Oh and P.S…..this is for you too! I’m just sharin’ my crazy life here! But God wants you to receive His love, You being anchored to Christ will bring out genuine love in your life and you will find your true self in His love. I really felt I needed to say that. Okay, I said it. G’bye now

Some Thoughts On Lines

I’ve got a few books I’m currently working on. I love reading. I didn’t read for years and years, raising kids doesn’t beckon you to hunker down with a good book and lose yourself in the story or the words. Ya get a little busy, I’m just sayin’!

I can read one line and it’ll stick with me. I want to share some lines with you and thoughts that come from them. Now my subject line makes sense, eh?

“Trust in the slow work of God.” Tattoos on the Heart – Gregory Boyle

Maybe it’s my prodigal story? Or maybe it’s my great distaste of the evangelical world that rushes to save souls and loses compassion (and sometimes common sense) in the process? Or maybe it’s because that sentence goes against everything we are, us human beings…..errrr, human doings. Right?

Slow work? We don’t want slow! We want right now! Or 5 minutes ago would actually work best for me, I’m kind of in a hurry.

Could you imagine believing that the slow work of God is His choosing, in whatever situation, and how your life, our life, my life, would be radically different if we would only trust it?

Do you have a family member you’ve been praying would accept Christ? Or a child who is running, full speed ahead, away from all that you reared them with in the faith? Are you, or have you fallen completely off your rocker from fear that it will end horribly? Or maybe you’ve had some not so nice conversation with those people, out of fear and angst because they NEED Jesus, if only they would see. And you forgot to let Jesus be seen through you because you were freaking out on them?

How would your relationship with that family member or that child change if you trusted the slow work of God? Life altering, I’m bettin’!

*****

“functional atheism – the belief that nothing is happening unless we are making it happen.” Brennen Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel

This goes right along with what I shared above. If we stopped trying to make things happen and believed, fully and wholly believed, that things are happening because the God of the universe is making things happen, how would that change our perspective? Our relationships? Our very lives? If I set my heart on the foundation that God has made my life this way, right here and right now, I can rest. Rest in trusting Him. No more anxiety. No more depression. No more running around like a chicken with my head cut off. No more fear.

As I sit in the midst of a circumstance I can’t change, no matter how much I’ve tried to make things happen, nothing changes. Outwardly. Inside…….fugheaboutit! It may look lazy, and it no doubt looks like I could try harder. But, what if something is happening when I’m not trying to make it happen? Isn’t that faith? The unseen? I’ve been living with this heavy guilt and shame of my unemployment. Long story short,if I hadn’t quit my corporate job, I wouldn’t be in the spot I’m in. And yet, if I hadn’t quit my corporate job……..I wouldn’t be in the spot I’m in. A paradox of relief and failure. It took my leaving to bring major, massive, mountainous change. How could something I’m so incredibly grateful for make me feel so guilty and ashamed? Pride. Duh.

Just last night, I decided…..or maybe He asked me, that I’m done. I give Him the job, employment, lack of it all and the outcome of anything. This running around chasing my tail has run it’s course. And all I got was tired and a tad insecure

I don’t want to be a functional atheist, claiming Christ with my mouth, while shunning Him with my actions and life. How about you?

***

I’ll end with another poem that wraps itself around what I’ve said here. Tagore, an Indian poet wrote this:

No, it is not yours to open buds into blossoms.
Shake the bud, strike it; it is beyond your power to make it blossom.
Your touch soils it, you tear it’s petals to pieces and strew them in the dust.
But no colours appear, and no perfume.
Ah! It is not for you to open the bud into blossom.

He who can open the bud does it so simply.
He gives it a glance, and the life-sap stirs through its veins.
At his breath, the flower spreads its wings and flutters in the wind.
Colours flush out like heart-longings, the perfume betrays a sweet secret.
He who can open the bud does it so simply.

 

Five Words

As we lay our heads down tonight, let’s meditate on the simplicity of these five words:

“What Jesus did was sufficient”

G’nite!