"let go and release the person to God."
You hear it all the time . . .
. . . to do it and feel the peace afterwards is unexplainable in words.
my journey to forgiveness with a particular individual was a long one.
And God was okay with it . . .
. . . He is in the healing business, you see.
every hurt, God saw. Every pain, God felt. Every injustice act, God understood on both sides.
To know this was so freeing . . .
. . . it was only then that I could share with Him my heart.
Who wants a life of bitterness? Who wants a life of anger? Who wants a life of pain?
I never did, but I lived it . . .
. . . When I finally got to forgiveness, years of healing had taken place by God.
There's so much that's said to us by people who mean well, who don't understand.
When the course of your life is altered by one person's action, or inaction . . .
. . . when the essence of who you are created to be is murdered . . .
. . . this is when forgiveness is a journey.
"Forgive and forget, like God."
those words used to cut me like a knife. . . .
. . . hearing them meant I was a failure.
Then, God opened my eyes to His character.
God knows all things forever . . .
. . . but forgets my shortcomings quicker than a blink of my eye.
How can I be like that?
it is impossible to be all knowing . . .
. . . striving to do so is in vain.
What I do know I can surrender.
I get let go of the hurt, the pain, and the memories . . .
. . . this was the beginning of the journey to being like Him.
When the heart would stir the pain, I had a choice.
I could own the pain forever and we'd remain friends . . .
. . . or I could look deeper into the wound, apply medicine, bandages, and heal it.
Every memory holds a false belief.
I could believe it to be truth . . .
. . . or I could excavate the ground beneath it to find its root and destroy it.
Forgetting is remembering without the pain.
It is choosing to see the events objectively . . .
. . . admitting how they affected you without seeking to destroy.
God remembers everything about me, but He still loves me anyway.
It is in this place that He died on the cross for me . . .
. . . it is in this place that He adopted me as His own.
I can forget like this.
I can have my memories of tragedy . . .
. . . and still choose to love you and still choose to see you with God's eyes alone.
My forgiveness journey was marked by my tears.
Grieving for who the person, the offender, would never be . . .
. . . and for their lack of ignorance to my pain and denial of their offence.
There's a river full of tears which God has numbered.
I don't need to make the person see them . . .
. . . the only One who truly matters has them stored in a bottle.
There's also a trail of blood a long the path I had to trod.
I used to believe it was my blood, from the wounds on my heart . . .
. . . to learn my wounds were also carried on the cross freed me from myself.
When we only see our pain and agony, we only see the darkness.
I was ineffective and purposeless for God . . .
. . . unable to share His love, His redemption, and His grace with others.
Prayer was the way to forgiveness.
It was the only key that could unlock that door . . .
. . . it was not an action I had to do, words I had to say.
Praying is communication with the Only One who matters.
All I had to do was talk it through . . .
. . . participate in a simple conversation.
There was no magical words or phrases I had to say.
I just had to open my mouth and speak . . .
. . . and open my hands in surrender.
There were these knots in my back for decades.
They sat behind my shoulder blades and weighed me down . . .
. . . nothing would make them go away, or the pain they caused to lessen.
After I prayed and forgave this person, they were gone.
The weight has been lifted. . .
. . . the physical ache is no more.
The power of forgiveness and prayer . . .
. . . it is beyond anything I have ever experienced.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Stand in the Rain . . .
A long time ago, I came to realize I had a lot of crap to overcome. There's lots of abuses in my background, lots of lies I was told in my past, lots of heartaches, and lots of tears that have been shed. I remember thinking at one point if I just prayed harder, or saw my therapist the prescribed number of times that I would be over "it" . . . on the other side of normal. Then, God shook me and woke me up to His plan for my healing.
In 2 Kings 5, we read the story of Naaman who had leprosy. The king tore his robes in disgrace that Naaman got this dreadful disease. Elisha confronted the king and summoned for him to send Naaman for healing. Naaman is headed to Elisha when he sends one of his messengers with Elisha's instructions: Go wash seven times in the Jordan River. Naaman reacts in anger because Elisha didn't just show up, touch him, speak a word or two and heal him. No doubt Elisha could have! Instead, another person speaks for Elisha and tells Naaman to go do something first in order for healing to come. Naaman, eventually is convinced to do what Elisha says and received healing.
**Quick pause**
Many people will argue that healing is not for today, but a miraculous sign that Jesus only gave to his first Apostles to be used to advance the church. I will ruffle your feathers by saying that was just one purpose for healing. Furthermore, if healing was only for that time period, then this story in 2 Kings would not have ever occurred. Additionally, I will ask one question: If a bone breaks and you put it into a cast for 6-8 weeks, what happens? The answer is, "It heals!" Therefore, proof healing actually is for today and is not controlled by the boundaries we want to set for it. Let's move on . . .
When it came to my past, around 19 everything was coming up to the surface. Maybe it was the fact I was in a community, surrounded by Christians for the very first time in my whole life that caused it to come? Maybe everything messed up inside me was coming out because I had stuff it for so long, thinking I had nothing wrong and was not affected by it? I don't know the answers for certain, but I do know that God allowed it to bubble to the surface and be seen by myself and every single person I came into contact with. It wasn't pretty. I was mean. I was angry. I hated people. I didn't trust a soul. I was also terrified. I couldn't sit in class without horrible images coming to mind of my past. I would lay down at night unable to shut off my brain. I would sleep all day if I could because anything else took so much effort. I struggled to take a shower, to brush my teeth, or to even go to work. Thankfully, I had a boss who understood and was very helpful if the anxiety showed up at work. There was a point when in a four hour shift at JoAnn Fabrics & Craft, I had to take 4 15 minute breaks because I was shaking so hard! I found a counselor, started an anti-anxiety and an anti-depressant, and I gave myself 3 months to beat this. 3 months came and I still felt horrible and I was on my 4th therapist! It was at this point I moved away from my college town and back to my hometown.
There's one thing I absolutely hate about small towns--the rumor mill. By the time I moved, stayed with a family for a couple months, and then moved to my own apartment, there was so much I was feeling. I was approached by someone who said, "Here's my number. Call me when you get those thoughts again." And I realized one popular rumor was I left college because I was suicidal, not true but depression typically goes with suicide so I couldn't be angry. I went to church once and I was met by someone who sat with me during donuts and coffee and she said, "Emily, you are using everything to just get attention. Even your laugh is your way of getting noticed in a crowd. We've all be talking about how you are just attention-seeking and think it is time you quit it." Regardless of whether her statement was literally true, I immediately swore of church and started thinking about swearing off "organized religion" all together. I pictured the church gathered together on Sunday for a sermon and the pastor pausing to have this "Emily-Bash" and it prevented me from trusting Christians for a very long time, like 4 years.
By 2004, I had started going to church again and found a Christian counselor. For the next four years we worked through a lot of things, but the biggest thing was the Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder Workbook. This workbook was my cure for the intense PTSD that I had that started back when I was in college. After this, I once again thought: I'm HEALED! I'm GREAT! Woohoo!!!
During these years, my counselor and I realized I had developed an eating disorder back in the 5th grade called Binge Eating Disorder (BED). BED was just getting recognized by the psychology world and not many treatment centers for eating disorders had programs for it specifically. As a result of this, my therapist suggested we table it and focus on the PTSD stuff first. In 2008, when my time with this came to an end, my BED was at its peak. It was how I dealt with every single thing that happened in life. At one point, I had a food for every emotion. Unfortunately, I was doing well otherwise, so I thought no counseling was needed. I decided it would be better for me to go back to dieting.
I started my first diet as a Junior in high school. It consisted of skipping breakfast, eating half of my school lunch, and drinking water only. I tried Weight Watchers next in college, after being convinced the only way I could lose the amount of weight I needed to was to pay for it. When that didn't work, I decided paying to gain weight was stupid, so I quit that too. Then, I tried this faith-based program that someone paid for me and again....I didn't do well and quit. Since this I have tried gluten/casein free diet, Mediterranean Diet, Atkins Diet, ADA/exchanges diet, and calorie counting. Nothing every worked! I remember the scale climbing and every time I saw the number, I saw who I was and it was horrible.
Three years ago, I went to Melrose Institute for eating disorder treatment. It was an out-patient program, so I could still work because my team decided that, although I really qualified for admission to the in-patient program, it could disrupt a lot that was going on in my life. I went to a group session for 3 hours every week, saw my dietician weekly, and saw a therapist again weekly as well. This was my life for nine months. It was the hardest thing I think I have ever done in my life so far. I'm happy to report that Thanksgiving 2016 will be my Two Year recovery date! 24 months free of binge eating! To clarify, my binges were 1500-3500 calories in a sitting, after my normal 1500 calorie intake for the day. I had done this for 22 years!
It was in the middle of treatment, God showed me another part of my healing journey in John 9. Here the blind man begged for healing. People who knew of him and his family blamed the sins of his parents, his sins, and were convinced he was blind as punishment for their sins. Jesus shows up and rebukes this and says, "He was blind so I can show you who I am." (Loose paraphrase) Then, Jesus spits in the dirt, makes mud pies, and puts them on the blind man's eyes. You know what is mind-blowing to me? Besides the fact Jesus made mud pies and rendered them holy by doing so, He destroyed the idea that physical ailments are a form of punishment. Instead, they could be present to help people see who Jesus is! WOW! So at this point, the blind man with the mud pies was probably confused. I mean, he believed Jesus would heal him and I'm convinced this wasn't the first time he positioned himself to be ready for Jesus. This blind guy knew who Jesus was, knew His healing powers, and kept showing up. He heard blind people seeing. He heard paralyzed people leaping and dancing in laughter. Now it was his turn and he's got mud pies made of SPIT on his eyes! Instead of getting up and walking away in disgust, he still sat there ready for what Jesus was gonna do next! Jesus tells him, "Go wash in the pool of Siloam." This guy did that and went home seeing. I read this story and remembered the 2 Kings 5 story and I wept!
Like these men, I had to do something to receive my healing. Their healing was a journey too and it took effort. They couldn't just use any water. They couldn't just go through the motions. Their healing wasn't in an instant, but required a process. They had to choose to follow through with the process, or it wouldn't have happened.
Here I am now, still dealing with pieces of the junk that is yet to be fully gone. I always knew this journey was necessary, but I never knew when it would end for me. Instead, I just kept walking and doing my part. I kept washing in my well year after year, waiting for Jesus to show up and say, "YES! Look at what I did!"
I have an amazing therapist again who is such an ally. At the same time, the discipleship school has turned into this place where the balm of Gilead gets poured out over me every single week. Every time I get washed in this balm, a new wound is healed. I was not expecting this at all! It's painful, exhausting, and sometimes it's scary because I am not in control and I do not know what is coming. I just know I'm supposed to do my part.
Today God spoke something powerful: This is the year of completion. Twenty-five years of suffering and agony. A fifteen years long journey. This is the year of completion.
When I was five years into this journey, a powerful song came out that I play regularly for myself. The rainstorm has been intense and I have felt the rain like needles most days. The wind in the storm has knocked me over, but I have stood up again and again. Now, I'm firmly standing and hearing from the Weatherman the system is dissipating! I just gotta stand there a little longer . . .
Friday, September 25, 2015
Who Am I?
Over the past two weeks I have really been hit hard with the reality that I have no idea who I am in the eyes of God, or even other people. One of my deepest struggles is my self-worth and self-hatred, which both have been struggles since I was a little kid. Both of these struggles played a huge role in the development of my eating disorder as well.
For homework, we read Victory Over the Darkness, by Dr. Neil Anderson of Freedom in Christ Ministries. I've read the book previously, but this time it just rings true and seems to be exactly what I need. There's so much Truth in this book that I highly recommend it for anyone, but especially new Christians.
This week in class we spent some time learning and understanding how to "Tend Your Heart" which is just a fancy phrase for "Let God Work on You." haha! We had opportunities to really listen to the Lord and find out what He thinks. The practical lessons were so amazing! I am so thankful for them.
As I sought the Lord about what I have been learning, it became very clear that it is very important I start working on believing who I am in Christ. It is so easy to look to people, your job, your family, your friends, objects, money, status, or success to have a sense of worth. Modern psychology says you need to look within yourself, which is something I have never understood. I mean, if I think I'm worthless and hate myself, the last place I should go for a deeper sense of worth and love for myself would be myself! I just don't get the whole "you have the power" and "you control your destiny" ideals, but that's just me. Thankfully, as a Christian, we have a far greater source than ourselves to look to and be redefined!
I have decided to daily declare the truths of who I am in Christ before I leave my bedroom each day. We learned in class the importance of declaring aloud the Truth found in God's Word and what an important tool that is in the area of spiritual warfare. It's something I have never really done regularly before, mostly because I don't want to be "noticed" or "rude" or thought of as "obnoxious" . . . silly me! As I will be declaring these aloud, it is both me acknowledging it to myself and declaring it to Satan and immediately setting the stage for the day. As I step out the bedroom door, I will be stepping into who I am and walking in that throughout my day. I know there won't be a magical change overnight, but I believe doing this will help me to grow deeper in my faith journey.
For homework, we read Victory Over the Darkness, by Dr. Neil Anderson of Freedom in Christ Ministries. I've read the book previously, but this time it just rings true and seems to be exactly what I need. There's so much Truth in this book that I highly recommend it for anyone, but especially new Christians.
This week in class we spent some time learning and understanding how to "Tend Your Heart" which is just a fancy phrase for "Let God Work on You." haha! We had opportunities to really listen to the Lord and find out what He thinks. The practical lessons were so amazing! I am so thankful for them.
As I sought the Lord about what I have been learning, it became very clear that it is very important I start working on believing who I am in Christ. It is so easy to look to people, your job, your family, your friends, objects, money, status, or success to have a sense of worth. Modern psychology says you need to look within yourself, which is something I have never understood. I mean, if I think I'm worthless and hate myself, the last place I should go for a deeper sense of worth and love for myself would be myself! I just don't get the whole "you have the power" and "you control your destiny" ideals, but that's just me. Thankfully, as a Christian, we have a far greater source than ourselves to look to and be redefined!
I have decided to daily declare the truths of who I am in Christ before I leave my bedroom each day. We learned in class the importance of declaring aloud the Truth found in God's Word and what an important tool that is in the area of spiritual warfare. It's something I have never really done regularly before, mostly because I don't want to be "noticed" or "rude" or thought of as "obnoxious" . . . silly me! As I will be declaring these aloud, it is both me acknowledging it to myself and declaring it to Satan and immediately setting the stage for the day. As I step out the bedroom door, I will be stepping into who I am and walking in that throughout my day. I know there won't be a magical change overnight, but I believe doing this will help me to grow deeper in my faith journey.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
Not Your Normal Education
I love the fact that I didn't know much about Antioch Discipleship School before I decided to come. By knowing very little, I was able to come into this year with no expectations except one: to learn. Well, we are two weeks in as of today and I have learned so much than I ever imagined. The thing is, this isn't your normal school. It isn't your normal education.
It's hard to describe to you my first lesson because I have never learned it before. My first lesson came in the midst of a worship time at the retreat we went on. I was doing my art during worship time and I felt the Holy Spirit rain down on our room. Yeah, I know it sounds crazy to you--it was crazy witnessing it! There was freedom felt by one classmate who had never felt such freedom before. There were several who felt the healing hand of God upon them in ways He had never touched before. And there were those in the room who had never encountered Holy Spirit like that before, ever. I laid down that night and prayed to God, "You are SO much bigger than I could have ever imagined! You are so GREAT!"
Another lesson came when the staff members rattled off their expectations of us. The first week was full of "rules and regulations" and making the expectations known clearly so that we can succeed. I have had my share of "first week of school" experiences. There's been teachers and professors who have all laid out their own rules and expectations. I fully expected this to be a repeat, but it wasn't. Instead, I was met with people who loved, whose faces shined the image of God, and who wanted to help us students get there. It's different than a teacher who loves their job. It's different than a professor who wants you to take ownership of your education. It was more like a group of people cheering for you as you run your first 5K, or marathon. They were motivating as much as they were igniting a determination within you.
A huge lesson for me has been realizing the lies I have been believing about God and about myself. There's so much I could say and so many I could list, but this is not the point. The point is that I spent an entire two weeks reading about the ways I believed lies, how they effected me, and why I am stuck in this spot--it's like quicksand. I was making progress, but every now and then I'd sink a little deeper. It's a place between the chains of my past and the freedom to walk out on the water to Jesus. I hate being stuck there! Knowing the lies is the beginning of winning the battle, here everything shifts.
Hearing the phrase, "The Father Heart of God," was so foreign to me. I had never heard of it before. My first reaction was to resist it, push it away, and deny it existed. The time I have spent understanding this Truth has been almost as powerful as the day my friend Kelly explained the Gospel to me. There's so much I still don't know about it, but I am finally pressing into it and am willing to learn. I'm not fighting it, not denying it, and definitely not doubting it.
One other lesson I have had is on knowing that God wants to have an intimate relationship with me that is active and open. There's this belief that God doesn't talk or doesn't have anything to say to us, but it's so wrong! Learning to hear His voice amongst the chaos of this world is something I am so thankful to experience.
I'm not learning math, science, or english. I'm not learning how to do a specific trade well. I'm learning what it means to be a child of God, what it means to be loved by God, what it means to be a part of the body of Christ, and I'm learning how to walk in my faith. These are all things I thought I knew--was convinced I knew! Oh, but there's so much more to learn this side of Heaven! I don't think I'll ever be able to say, "There it is! I got it! I'm done learning!" I am thankful for this journey as hard as it has been already.
It's hard to describe to you my first lesson because I have never learned it before. My first lesson came in the midst of a worship time at the retreat we went on. I was doing my art during worship time and I felt the Holy Spirit rain down on our room. Yeah, I know it sounds crazy to you--it was crazy witnessing it! There was freedom felt by one classmate who had never felt such freedom before. There were several who felt the healing hand of God upon them in ways He had never touched before. And there were those in the room who had never encountered Holy Spirit like that before, ever. I laid down that night and prayed to God, "You are SO much bigger than I could have ever imagined! You are so GREAT!"
Another lesson came when the staff members rattled off their expectations of us. The first week was full of "rules and regulations" and making the expectations known clearly so that we can succeed. I have had my share of "first week of school" experiences. There's been teachers and professors who have all laid out their own rules and expectations. I fully expected this to be a repeat, but it wasn't. Instead, I was met with people who loved, whose faces shined the image of God, and who wanted to help us students get there. It's different than a teacher who loves their job. It's different than a professor who wants you to take ownership of your education. It was more like a group of people cheering for you as you run your first 5K, or marathon. They were motivating as much as they were igniting a determination within you.
A huge lesson for me has been realizing the lies I have been believing about God and about myself. There's so much I could say and so many I could list, but this is not the point. The point is that I spent an entire two weeks reading about the ways I believed lies, how they effected me, and why I am stuck in this spot--it's like quicksand. I was making progress, but every now and then I'd sink a little deeper. It's a place between the chains of my past and the freedom to walk out on the water to Jesus. I hate being stuck there! Knowing the lies is the beginning of winning the battle, here everything shifts.
Hearing the phrase, "The Father Heart of God," was so foreign to me. I had never heard of it before. My first reaction was to resist it, push it away, and deny it existed. The time I have spent understanding this Truth has been almost as powerful as the day my friend Kelly explained the Gospel to me. There's so much I still don't know about it, but I am finally pressing into it and am willing to learn. I'm not fighting it, not denying it, and definitely not doubting it.
One other lesson I have had is on knowing that God wants to have an intimate relationship with me that is active and open. There's this belief that God doesn't talk or doesn't have anything to say to us, but it's so wrong! Learning to hear His voice amongst the chaos of this world is something I am so thankful to experience.
I'm not learning math, science, or english. I'm not learning how to do a specific trade well. I'm learning what it means to be a child of God, what it means to be loved by God, what it means to be a part of the body of Christ, and I'm learning how to walk in my faith. These are all things I thought I knew--was convinced I knew! Oh, but there's so much more to learn this side of Heaven! I don't think I'll ever be able to say, "There it is! I got it! I'm done learning!" I am thankful for this journey as hard as it has been already.
Monday, September 14, 2015
The Hidden Places and Dark Spaces
"We are going to go on a journey together. We are going to go to into the house of your heart. We are going to go into the house and see what God has for us there."
What if someone told you this? What if someone was going to take you on this journey with them? What would your response be? Did you even know your heart has a house, is like a house, or even has rooms? Why would you be asked to go there? Why would you be asked to go into that house? What would God have for you there? Why? Who cares?
Valid questions. I have asked every single one of them. I don't really have answers to them. Honestly, I'm more screaming the questions out, hoping to never get answers. I silently hope I won't have to go into that house, let alone peek in. There's a fear that wells up inside of me when I think about it.
I picture the house of my heart being really, really old. My house served a purpose in its day, but maybe not the most noble of one. Picture an early 1900's profitable estate. Over the centuries, the land gets sectioned off to make a city. Estates get deeded to the city in death, or in the event debts are unpaid. One estate could have multiple buildings, especially in the south where slavery was once popular. I feel like my house is back, behind the main estate. Maybe the roof is a bit leaky, the exterior paint is chipping away; there's a cracked window or two as well. Inside the heat keeps the bitter cold away, but you still need to wrap under a heavy blanket to feel warm; you see your breath at night. There's places in that house I have never been, never seen, and never looked at. I have never had to before, so why should I now?
The hidden places inside our hearts are the places only we knew once existed and places we have only been in once, but we were alone and never want to go back to. What happened is different for all of us and it doesn't have to be traumatic, just challenging. Maybe your hidden places are moments that defined a "should not" for you? For example, maybe you were grounded for an entire summer for talking back to your mother, but you were really trying to ask questions to understand because you are a deep thinker. A hidden place for you may be where you learned, "I should not ask questions." Perhaps your hidden place is where you learned how you "should be." I had a friend in college who was raised by a great, Christian single man. Whenever her or her siblings did something wrong, he corrected them by making them read the Bible and memorize a portion of Scripture. Nothing is wrong with this type of parenting style, except that she was exasperated by this once. After she said a curse word, her father grounded her until she had memorized the entire chapter of James 3. Now she was in college, convinced that "she should be" great at this Christian college education process because she had entire chapters of the Bible memorized. When she got a lower mark on a paper, she was astounded and her world was crumbling. Neither of these hidden places were created out of anything extremely painful, but they were seeds to a false identity and a false belief in who the person was meant to be.
The dark places of our hearts are those that are easily accessible, but cannot be clearly seen without an intentional motion and a source of light. As I kid, I hated cleaning my room. (And I guess, as an adult I hate it too!) I remember I would stuff as much under the bed as I could without being obvious, so that no one would be led to think there was anything under there. I had an art for knowing the cut off, but one day I was over-confident. My mom sent my oldest sister to check my side of the room for her. There's just something about your siblings knowledge of you that can be frustrating, especially when you're trying to hide something from your parents! My sister said, "This looks good, Em, but what if I were to bend down and look under your bed? Would anything be there?" My siblings all knew I couldn't lie and they knew the faces I would make and the body language I would have that screamed louder than my silence ever could. Without me even saying a word, she looked under the bed, got up, left the room, and shouted to mom, "Nah, she's not done cleaning yet!" The dark places of our hearts are those kind of places, the places we stuff things to deal with later, or the places we can't quite reach with the duster.
I know we shouldn't be afraid to go there, but I am. I have been on my healing journey long enough to know healing is painful and brings floodgates of tears. I just don't want to deal with the emotions and would rather not feel, but feeling is all I can do. I don't know what to do with the feelings, especially since stuffing them is not an option for me anymore. For now, they just exist and, sometimes, overwhelm me. I know I need to go there and I know I need to discover these places and clean up my house, but I'm too tired, other things are too important, and not going there is far easier and less painful.
Then, I see Him. His gentle hand reaches out to me again. He says to me sweetly, "We are going to go on a journey together. We are going to go to into the house of your heart. We are going to go into the house and see what our Father-God has for us there." Without thinking twice, I grasp ahold of His hand.
What if someone told you this? What if someone was going to take you on this journey with them? What would your response be? Did you even know your heart has a house, is like a house, or even has rooms? Why would you be asked to go there? Why would you be asked to go into that house? What would God have for you there? Why? Who cares?
Valid questions. I have asked every single one of them. I don't really have answers to them. Honestly, I'm more screaming the questions out, hoping to never get answers. I silently hope I won't have to go into that house, let alone peek in. There's a fear that wells up inside of me when I think about it.
I picture the house of my heart being really, really old. My house served a purpose in its day, but maybe not the most noble of one. Picture an early 1900's profitable estate. Over the centuries, the land gets sectioned off to make a city. Estates get deeded to the city in death, or in the event debts are unpaid. One estate could have multiple buildings, especially in the south where slavery was once popular. I feel like my house is back, behind the main estate. Maybe the roof is a bit leaky, the exterior paint is chipping away; there's a cracked window or two as well. Inside the heat keeps the bitter cold away, but you still need to wrap under a heavy blanket to feel warm; you see your breath at night. There's places in that house I have never been, never seen, and never looked at. I have never had to before, so why should I now?
The hidden places inside our hearts are the places only we knew once existed and places we have only been in once, but we were alone and never want to go back to. What happened is different for all of us and it doesn't have to be traumatic, just challenging. Maybe your hidden places are moments that defined a "should not" for you? For example, maybe you were grounded for an entire summer for talking back to your mother, but you were really trying to ask questions to understand because you are a deep thinker. A hidden place for you may be where you learned, "I should not ask questions." Perhaps your hidden place is where you learned how you "should be." I had a friend in college who was raised by a great, Christian single man. Whenever her or her siblings did something wrong, he corrected them by making them read the Bible and memorize a portion of Scripture. Nothing is wrong with this type of parenting style, except that she was exasperated by this once. After she said a curse word, her father grounded her until she had memorized the entire chapter of James 3. Now she was in college, convinced that "she should be" great at this Christian college education process because she had entire chapters of the Bible memorized. When she got a lower mark on a paper, she was astounded and her world was crumbling. Neither of these hidden places were created out of anything extremely painful, but they were seeds to a false identity and a false belief in who the person was meant to be.
The dark places of our hearts are those that are easily accessible, but cannot be clearly seen without an intentional motion and a source of light. As I kid, I hated cleaning my room. (And I guess, as an adult I hate it too!) I remember I would stuff as much under the bed as I could without being obvious, so that no one would be led to think there was anything under there. I had an art for knowing the cut off, but one day I was over-confident. My mom sent my oldest sister to check my side of the room for her. There's just something about your siblings knowledge of you that can be frustrating, especially when you're trying to hide something from your parents! My sister said, "This looks good, Em, but what if I were to bend down and look under your bed? Would anything be there?" My siblings all knew I couldn't lie and they knew the faces I would make and the body language I would have that screamed louder than my silence ever could. Without me even saying a word, she looked under the bed, got up, left the room, and shouted to mom, "Nah, she's not done cleaning yet!" The dark places of our hearts are those kind of places, the places we stuff things to deal with later, or the places we can't quite reach with the duster.
I know we shouldn't be afraid to go there, but I am. I have been on my healing journey long enough to know healing is painful and brings floodgates of tears. I just don't want to deal with the emotions and would rather not feel, but feeling is all I can do. I don't know what to do with the feelings, especially since stuffing them is not an option for me anymore. For now, they just exist and, sometimes, overwhelm me. I know I need to go there and I know I need to discover these places and clean up my house, but I'm too tired, other things are too important, and not going there is far easier and less painful.
Then, I see Him. His gentle hand reaches out to me again. He says to me sweetly, "We are going to go on a journey together. We are going to go to into the house of your heart. We are going to go into the house and see what our Father-God has for us there." Without thinking twice, I grasp ahold of His hand.
Friday, September 11, 2015
Another Book on the Bookshelf
I was finally able to unpack my books a few weeks ago. As I was placing them on the bookshelf, I was grouping them into sections. I looked at each book I decided to take with me to Texas and read each individual title. I would think, "oh, yep, that's why I brought this one." And others, "Hooray! I kept it!" I love books and how you can read them over and over, getting something new out of it every time.
This is how it is with God's Word too. As I unpacked my ultimate, favorite Bible I was compelled to flip through the pages. I could see ways I wrote in it, quotes in the intro and back pages from various sermons over the years, and the highlights of some key verses. It had this crisp, new feel to it though since I haven't opened it for awhile. I have been using my Journaling Bible more and more for my Quiet Time, but I felt led to dig this Bible out and use it for my year at Discipleship School.
As I cracked it open and felt the pages, it occurred to me how so many times the Bible is just another book on the bookshelf. We may go in waves of reading it, but really can't say, "I have read through the entire Bible." I can't even say that! Now, there's quick access with Bibles on our smartphones and apps, but I feel like you lose so much out of the crinkle sound of the physical copy. I still can't say I have read it all the way cover to cover.
This is one part of Discipleship School I'm actually really excited for! We are reading several books, already tackling our 2nd book. Soon we will start our Scripture Memory and our Bible Reading Plan too. I am excited to read the Bible cover to cover for the first time in my life! I am excited for the new things I will learn and the new ways God will speak to me.
Have you read the Bible? Have you ever read it cover to cover? I'd love for you to join me! Start now!
This is how it is with God's Word too. As I unpacked my ultimate, favorite Bible I was compelled to flip through the pages. I could see ways I wrote in it, quotes in the intro and back pages from various sermons over the years, and the highlights of some key verses. It had this crisp, new feel to it though since I haven't opened it for awhile. I have been using my Journaling Bible more and more for my Quiet Time, but I felt led to dig this Bible out and use it for my year at Discipleship School.
As I cracked it open and felt the pages, it occurred to me how so many times the Bible is just another book on the bookshelf. We may go in waves of reading it, but really can't say, "I have read through the entire Bible." I can't even say that! Now, there's quick access with Bibles on our smartphones and apps, but I feel like you lose so much out of the crinkle sound of the physical copy. I still can't say I have read it all the way cover to cover.
This is one part of Discipleship School I'm actually really excited for! We are reading several books, already tackling our 2nd book. Soon we will start our Scripture Memory and our Bible Reading Plan too. I am excited to read the Bible cover to cover for the first time in my life! I am excited for the new things I will learn and the new ways God will speak to me.
Have you read the Bible? Have you ever read it cover to cover? I'd love for you to join me! Start now!
Saturday, September 5, 2015
The Beauty of Vulnerability
My therapist in Texas challenged me with the concept that being vulnerable was a good thing the very first session I had with her. I remember thinking she was nuts, but most therapists are a little nuts when you first meet them, at least in my experience. I mean they all have this outside-the-box way of thinking mixed with a crazy high they get from seeing someone have an ah-ha moment . . . so they're nuts basically! (haha!) All kidding aside, after thinking she was nuts I was terrified.
My therapist parallels our sessions with the wisdom of Dr. Brene Brown who is like the vulnerability guru I have learned. She had this great TedTalk on the power of vulnerability (youtube it, you're gonna have your mind BLOWN). My first homework assignment was to watch this clip and come back with any thought I had on the subject.
I remember thinking, "If vulnerability is so great, why is it so terrifying?" I think the answer is different for everyone, but the core of every answer is vulnerability is a risk and trust test all rolled into one. It's a risk of the relationship for you to give up various details of yourself, your story, your past, or anything really all to hope the receiving person will be strong enough and wise enough to respond back in a healthy way, equally as vulnerable. So many people can't do it. There's the element of trust that comes in then. My therapist talks about a jar of marbles as a parallel. The marbles represent pieces of your heart and your story. It's not really helpful to pour out all your marbles at once, it's safer to do a couple marbles at a time, or even one. Then, see what the person does with it. If that went well, maybe next time you see them you give them a few more, etc. A person who lives in the world of vulnerability doesn't hesitate to give their marbles away in bigger chunks at a time. This is terrifying!
I am not a vulnerable or transparent person. You may be able to look at me and have a better idea than I do about how I'm doing because I'm emotionally ignorant, but take the time to ask me why I am feeling that way and I'll clam up! This week I went with my fellow Day DTS classmates on our retreat. It was basically a crash-course of vulnerability. It really reminded me of the meals I'd eat together with my groupies in my out-patient eating disorder program at Park Nicollet-Melrose Institute back in Minnesota. We'd have exposure therapy to food together and talk about the food struggles and what to do about it. Gathering 8 people with the same exact eating disorder for a meal to talk about how your feeling, why you're feeling it, and what to do differently was intense, trust me on that one! This week was no different.
I haven't even been able to process it all yet. I have thought of a couple things as I've been back, but I feel like the biggest lesson I have learned is there really is a certain beauty within vulnerability. To be fair, we were not forced to share our hearts with each other, we chose to. We were not forced to care and be compassionate with each other, we chose to do that too. And we surely were not forced to respond in a caring, supportive, and encouraging way, but we all chose to. I only had one single interaction that was unsettling and confusing, which the parties involved and myself talked about it immediately as soon as we were able to and totally resolved it head on. It turned out to be 3 people assuming what the other was thinking, because the other didn't communicate something. Even in this misunderstanding, there was a vulnerability that was shared, but we chose that one too. I think that is the heart of vulnerability--choice. No one can force it or make it happen. You can cultivate a perfect environment for it to occur, reassure safety and confidentiality, but at the end of the day all parties have to choose to be vulnerable. Every single one of us did exactly that during the retreat.
I got to share my testimony multiple times, but not sugar-coat it so it is more palatable or more "church appropriate" but really share it. One person actually encouraged me and shared that God wants us to share our entire testimony with others because every single piece of our story has a purpose for those who hear it. Not sharing your entire faith story limits God and what he will do. It also limits how the person hearing it can respond, which is just as bad as limiting God! This really broadened my scope of the ways we can stifle the Holy Spirit! Here I was doing that for many, many years and not even knowing it.
I also was able to hear so many stories of people hearing from God, obeying God, and stepping out in faith. A majority of the class is college students, either in the middle of their degrees or freshly graduated. I would listen to these 20 somethings and the whole time, think back to when I was 20. Sure, I was pursuing God . . . sorta. I was so caught in my Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder that I had flunked a semester and had to quit for a time! I was not at all waiting and listening to the Lord! There's some who are fresh out of high school even--HIGH SCHOOL! These are like my youth group kids back in Minnesota, suddenly at a crossroads and feeling the pressure to declare a major, a college, find a job, move away, and live apart from your family---5 HUGE major stressors for any other adult, but it's just expected of the 18 or 19 yr old babies in the USA! These kids felt that pressure and they turned to God and said, "I got NO idea! Holy cow! Lord, you tell me what to do!" God spoke and said, "Go to Waco, Texas." And they said, "Well, okay. I'll go because I want to obey you!" Many of them put their lives on hold for the next year, just so they can go deeper in their faith journey. It blows my mind that kids in their 20's would do this! Wow! How encouraging to see in today's generation! Their vulnerability and sharing their hearts with me was so beautiful, so honourable, and such a delight. It made me so proud of each one of them.
We got to also share our struggles with one another. This is where living vulnerably often turns ugly in Christian circles. How many times has someone come up to you with their measuring stick to measure your faith in God, or your Bible knowledge, or your ability to defend your stand on the eschatology, or measure your giftedness in prayers out loud? It's happened to me a lot. Instead of judgement and criticism, we each embraced each other and supported each other in prayer. It was such a beautiful thing that I hope I never forget seeing and experiencing.
As I shared this with my therapist today she said, "How healing for you and how beautiful. What a perfect picture of what the body of Christ really should be. There's such beauty in vulnerability." I wish I could paint the beauty I saw and felt this week. It would be a masterpiece.
My therapist parallels our sessions with the wisdom of Dr. Brene Brown who is like the vulnerability guru I have learned. She had this great TedTalk on the power of vulnerability (youtube it, you're gonna have your mind BLOWN). My first homework assignment was to watch this clip and come back with any thought I had on the subject.
I remember thinking, "If vulnerability is so great, why is it so terrifying?" I think the answer is different for everyone, but the core of every answer is vulnerability is a risk and trust test all rolled into one. It's a risk of the relationship for you to give up various details of yourself, your story, your past, or anything really all to hope the receiving person will be strong enough and wise enough to respond back in a healthy way, equally as vulnerable. So many people can't do it. There's the element of trust that comes in then. My therapist talks about a jar of marbles as a parallel. The marbles represent pieces of your heart and your story. It's not really helpful to pour out all your marbles at once, it's safer to do a couple marbles at a time, or even one. Then, see what the person does with it. If that went well, maybe next time you see them you give them a few more, etc. A person who lives in the world of vulnerability doesn't hesitate to give their marbles away in bigger chunks at a time. This is terrifying!
I am not a vulnerable or transparent person. You may be able to look at me and have a better idea than I do about how I'm doing because I'm emotionally ignorant, but take the time to ask me why I am feeling that way and I'll clam up! This week I went with my fellow Day DTS classmates on our retreat. It was basically a crash-course of vulnerability. It really reminded me of the meals I'd eat together with my groupies in my out-patient eating disorder program at Park Nicollet-Melrose Institute back in Minnesota. We'd have exposure therapy to food together and talk about the food struggles and what to do about it. Gathering 8 people with the same exact eating disorder for a meal to talk about how your feeling, why you're feeling it, and what to do differently was intense, trust me on that one! This week was no different.
I haven't even been able to process it all yet. I have thought of a couple things as I've been back, but I feel like the biggest lesson I have learned is there really is a certain beauty within vulnerability. To be fair, we were not forced to share our hearts with each other, we chose to. We were not forced to care and be compassionate with each other, we chose to do that too. And we surely were not forced to respond in a caring, supportive, and encouraging way, but we all chose to. I only had one single interaction that was unsettling and confusing, which the parties involved and myself talked about it immediately as soon as we were able to and totally resolved it head on. It turned out to be 3 people assuming what the other was thinking, because the other didn't communicate something. Even in this misunderstanding, there was a vulnerability that was shared, but we chose that one too. I think that is the heart of vulnerability--choice. No one can force it or make it happen. You can cultivate a perfect environment for it to occur, reassure safety and confidentiality, but at the end of the day all parties have to choose to be vulnerable. Every single one of us did exactly that during the retreat.
I got to share my testimony multiple times, but not sugar-coat it so it is more palatable or more "church appropriate" but really share it. One person actually encouraged me and shared that God wants us to share our entire testimony with others because every single piece of our story has a purpose for those who hear it. Not sharing your entire faith story limits God and what he will do. It also limits how the person hearing it can respond, which is just as bad as limiting God! This really broadened my scope of the ways we can stifle the Holy Spirit! Here I was doing that for many, many years and not even knowing it.
I also was able to hear so many stories of people hearing from God, obeying God, and stepping out in faith. A majority of the class is college students, either in the middle of their degrees or freshly graduated. I would listen to these 20 somethings and the whole time, think back to when I was 20. Sure, I was pursuing God . . . sorta. I was so caught in my Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and Major Depressive Disorder that I had flunked a semester and had to quit for a time! I was not at all waiting and listening to the Lord! There's some who are fresh out of high school even--HIGH SCHOOL! These are like my youth group kids back in Minnesota, suddenly at a crossroads and feeling the pressure to declare a major, a college, find a job, move away, and live apart from your family---5 HUGE major stressors for any other adult, but it's just expected of the 18 or 19 yr old babies in the USA! These kids felt that pressure and they turned to God and said, "I got NO idea! Holy cow! Lord, you tell me what to do!" God spoke and said, "Go to Waco, Texas." And they said, "Well, okay. I'll go because I want to obey you!" Many of them put their lives on hold for the next year, just so they can go deeper in their faith journey. It blows my mind that kids in their 20's would do this! Wow! How encouraging to see in today's generation! Their vulnerability and sharing their hearts with me was so beautiful, so honourable, and such a delight. It made me so proud of each one of them.
We got to also share our struggles with one another. This is where living vulnerably often turns ugly in Christian circles. How many times has someone come up to you with their measuring stick to measure your faith in God, or your Bible knowledge, or your ability to defend your stand on the eschatology, or measure your giftedness in prayers out loud? It's happened to me a lot. Instead of judgement and criticism, we each embraced each other and supported each other in prayer. It was such a beautiful thing that I hope I never forget seeing and experiencing.
As I shared this with my therapist today she said, "How healing for you and how beautiful. What a perfect picture of what the body of Christ really should be. There's such beauty in vulnerability." I wish I could paint the beauty I saw and felt this week. It would be a masterpiece.
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