I know it is our human nature to resist struggles and to know the end and thereby plan for it. But that is exactly what you do not want us to do; plan, that is. That is why you don't show us the end. This way you can guide us on a path that brings about the necessary change: a smoothing of some areas and a sharpening of others, to create in us a character that matches Christ. Your character "For he who has seen me has seen the Father, also"
When metal is put to the polishing wheel, sparks often fly out like sharp screams of pan. Likewise, our sharpening and smoothing is painful but necessary to remove the pain and hurt of the experiences of the work. I went to a psychologist once to get help and answers about my feeling with regard to my parents. After only two sessions she told me I should forgive my parent and get over it. It sounded so easy. but the problem was, forgive them of what? I had gone to see her partly because I couldn't remember much of my childhood and couldn't figure out why. And much of what I could remember wasn't pleasant. I needed something more, so I turned to God.
Over the next several years the Holy Spirit began leading me to Journal. I also began recounting my experiences and discussing my memories with my sister and brother. Each of them began filling in my missing pieces and showed me some memories I had altered. I had tried so hard to remember my mother in a 'June Cleaver' view, but what I began to see was a picture of neglect and verbal and emotional abuse.
Then, during a large family get together, I got a glimpse into my mother's childhood and the abuse she suffered at the hands of an overtly stern father and a passive mother. Now, I can forgive her and, now, I am at peace with my memories of her. I can honestly say, "I love you, Mom, and I forgive you. Please forgive me for all that I put you through." And I can say it because I found the best psychologist to be the Holy Spirit working through God's divine plan.
I still remember my mother in the fictional persona but I know this is a false memory. In my mother's absence, I placed her image over my sister's; the one who was always there for me.
Thank you, God for a great sister and an experience I can use to help others. Amen
Friday, July 2, 2010
Monday, May 31, 2010
Praying for You
"Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to have all of you, to sift you like wheat. But I have pleaded in prayer for you, Simon that your faith should not fail. So when you have repented and turned to me again, strengthen and build up your brothers." (Luke 22:31-32 NLT)
The setting is Jesus’ final Passover meal before His Crucifixion. Jesus has just proclaimed that one of the disciples will betray him. All the disciples began arguing who would betray Jesus and somehow this argument turned into who was the better disciple and who will be greater in the kingdom to come. Jesus explains their error and how it will be in the Kingdom of Heaven when he turns to Simon Peter and tells him He is praying that Simon would not lose his faith. I find it odd that He refers to him as Simon. Perhaps He was speaking to Simon's carnality or old nature. No matter how strong we are in Christ our sin nature is always a part of our physical bodies and the part of our will that is tied to it is continually in rebellion to God. It is this part of us that Satan uses as a door, attempting to open us up to sin. In the King James Version Satan "desires to have you" and in the New American Standard Satan "demands permission." This sounds a great deal like the book of Job where Satan comes before God and asks for the ability to test him. Like Simon and Job, Satan is requesting permission to sift us. Therefore, we should take great care to pray for each other that in times of distress and sifting, we don't lose our faith either.
It is important to note that Christ does not pray that Simon will not be tested, only that he will return to Christ again. He says, "so when you have repented and turned to me again" telling us that because God forgives us when we repent, we must forgive ourselves then we may return to our mission, our 'first love', to Christ Himself. He is waiting for us to come back ... always. No matter what you have done or how far away from Him you have strayed He is waiting for you to return. Only death can stop you from doing so.
The last section of this scripture Jesus tells Simon once he has returned to his faith, his belief and trust in Christ that he should "strengthen and build up his brothers." Because we don't really know who is a Christian and who isn't (only God knows the heart of man) I believe we should do our best to strengthen and build up everyone. We will go through trials and tests. And while everyone has different experiences, the trials and tribulations we endure will give us the insight to help others with their own struggles. We should always be prepared to use personal experiences to help others.
In circumstances it is difficult to keep believing that there is a God that loves you and wants the best for you. A young lady I know was laid off just days after signing the note on a car loan with a hefty monthly payment. A year later, she is still living with her parents and relying on their financial assistance. And while she has sent countless resumes and been on her fair share of interviews, the positions always went to others with more experience also out of work. It is difficult to encourage someone when you are working, so I try very hard to strengthen her faith and build her up. When I am down about something, she is also very good at strengthening and building up me. This is God's design.
I hope that somehow this has helped to strengthen and build up you. And that you can find a way to do the same to other. God Bless You in Your Journey.
The setting is Jesus’ final Passover meal before His Crucifixion. Jesus has just proclaimed that one of the disciples will betray him. All the disciples began arguing who would betray Jesus and somehow this argument turned into who was the better disciple and who will be greater in the kingdom to come. Jesus explains their error and how it will be in the Kingdom of Heaven when he turns to Simon Peter and tells him He is praying that Simon would not lose his faith. I find it odd that He refers to him as Simon. Perhaps He was speaking to Simon's carnality or old nature. No matter how strong we are in Christ our sin nature is always a part of our physical bodies and the part of our will that is tied to it is continually in rebellion to God. It is this part of us that Satan uses as a door, attempting to open us up to sin. In the King James Version Satan "desires to have you" and in the New American Standard Satan "demands permission." This sounds a great deal like the book of Job where Satan comes before God and asks for the ability to test him. Like Simon and Job, Satan is requesting permission to sift us. Therefore, we should take great care to pray for each other that in times of distress and sifting, we don't lose our faith either.
It is important to note that Christ does not pray that Simon will not be tested, only that he will return to Christ again. He says, "so when you have repented and turned to me again" telling us that because God forgives us when we repent, we must forgive ourselves then we may return to our mission, our 'first love', to Christ Himself. He is waiting for us to come back ... always. No matter what you have done or how far away from Him you have strayed He is waiting for you to return. Only death can stop you from doing so.
The last section of this scripture Jesus tells Simon once he has returned to his faith, his belief and trust in Christ that he should "strengthen and build up his brothers." Because we don't really know who is a Christian and who isn't (only God knows the heart of man) I believe we should do our best to strengthen and build up everyone. We will go through trials and tests. And while everyone has different experiences, the trials and tribulations we endure will give us the insight to help others with their own struggles. We should always be prepared to use personal experiences to help others.
In circumstances it is difficult to keep believing that there is a God that loves you and wants the best for you. A young lady I know was laid off just days after signing the note on a car loan with a hefty monthly payment. A year later, she is still living with her parents and relying on their financial assistance. And while she has sent countless resumes and been on her fair share of interviews, the positions always went to others with more experience also out of work. It is difficult to encourage someone when you are working, so I try very hard to strengthen her faith and build her up. When I am down about something, she is also very good at strengthening and building up me. This is God's design.
I hope that somehow this has helped to strengthen and build up you. And that you can find a way to do the same to other. God Bless You in Your Journey.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Daniel and the Dragon's Den - Journal Entry One
I don't get it. The world has turned upside down. Just look at the news and see how everyone's priorities are all mixed up. We are more worried about what sex or race adopting parents are, then whether they are truly caring for their children. I look at this child. His legs are skinny and covered with bruises. His eyes are gaunt and darkened. His little 3 year old frame would be visible if he just weighed only a few ounces less. He isn't a child of Haiti or from some African nation. He isn't from another continent, nation, state or city. He isn't even from another street and he isn't the child next door. He is my own grandson.
I watch week after week and see his tiny little frame grow thinner and thinner. I weigh him on scales that often sing of far too many pounds on my own frame. Yet, another six months goes by and his weight drops from 40 pounds to 38 and now to 36. His father and grandfather stand over 6 feet. His half-sister is even tall for her age, but he remains on the short side of the ruler, gaining in height only a half inch from Christmas to Easter. There are two times in a child's life when growth jumps like a grasshopper; before the age of 5 and at puberty. His growth nearly stands still.
When he comes to visit he seems more and more distant to us, his grandparents, and clings to his father more tightly. Why is that? Tonight he bore bruises on both legs and confessed a tale of a step-father's discipline, or rather abusive attack. Please understand, I am all for discipline; "spare the rod and spoil the child" kind. But if it leaves a bruise, it's abuse. And where there is physical abuse, I can guarantee you there is verbal and mental abuse as well. But none of that matters because we are the grandparents. But not just the grandparents, we are the parents of the father. The only one in this scenario with less clout than us is our son.
The discussion, what little there can be around the child, reveals fear and a perception that no one cares. No one cares if he loves his son. No one cares if he is a better parent. No one cares that he has never struck his son and never left a mark. No one cares that the mother has left numerous marks and now the step-dad does as well. No one cares that she has learned to manipulate the system and everyone around her. This child was beaten because he had an accident in his pants at the age of 3 years and 4 months. ‘He should know better, they've been potty training since he was 12 months old’. That's the age when she delivered my grandson for the first time without diapers. “He’s so big; he went to the potty by himself.” She turned and left; and he wet the floor. And every time we mentioned going to the potty, he screamed as in terror. But then no one else seemed to really care.
I watch week after week and see his tiny little frame grow thinner and thinner. I weigh him on scales that often sing of far too many pounds on my own frame. Yet, another six months goes by and his weight drops from 40 pounds to 38 and now to 36. His father and grandfather stand over 6 feet. His half-sister is even tall for her age, but he remains on the short side of the ruler, gaining in height only a half inch from Christmas to Easter. There are two times in a child's life when growth jumps like a grasshopper; before the age of 5 and at puberty. His growth nearly stands still.
When he comes to visit he seems more and more distant to us, his grandparents, and clings to his father more tightly. Why is that? Tonight he bore bruises on both legs and confessed a tale of a step-father's discipline, or rather abusive attack. Please understand, I am all for discipline; "spare the rod and spoil the child" kind. But if it leaves a bruise, it's abuse. And where there is physical abuse, I can guarantee you there is verbal and mental abuse as well. But none of that matters because we are the grandparents. But not just the grandparents, we are the parents of the father. The only one in this scenario with less clout than us is our son.
The discussion, what little there can be around the child, reveals fear and a perception that no one cares. No one cares if he loves his son. No one cares if he is a better parent. No one cares that he has never struck his son and never left a mark. No one cares that the mother has left numerous marks and now the step-dad does as well. No one cares that she has learned to manipulate the system and everyone around her. This child was beaten because he had an accident in his pants at the age of 3 years and 4 months. ‘He should know better, they've been potty training since he was 12 months old’. That's the age when she delivered my grandson for the first time without diapers. “He’s so big; he went to the potty by himself.” She turned and left; and he wet the floor. And every time we mentioned going to the potty, he screamed as in terror. But then no one else seemed to really care.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
THE PROMISE
Originally written: 10-24-03
The clock read 9:45 am. I awoke late this morning, the blessing of a daughter who can now drive herself to school. I had not meant to sleep this late. Going to bed early and sleeping late was a rarity for me. Actually, the getting up early was the exception; I often went to bed late, getting only 5 or 6 hours of sleep. But last night I slept almost 12 hours and still felt like I had only slept 5 or 6. I 'm sure I would have slept longer but the sound of my husband ‘banging’ the cabinet doors in the bathroom suggested it was time to start the day. Tired as I was, it seemed I had something important to do but I just couldn’t remember what it was.
As I entered the bathroom, my husband handed me a little rubber dot. It was one of those tabs they put on cabinet doors and drawers to keep them from banging when they are shut with natural inertia; or any other time when you don’t shut them gently with your hand. So I hopped … ok, walked stiffly … downstairs to retrieve the super glue. I noticed my bible sitting on the kitchen cupboard as I passed between it and the table on the way to the laundry room where the glue box is stored. This bible is a wonderful translation that makes reading it a joy. Whenever its passages seemed to say something I have never understood before or just something I thought I had never heard I would grab my latest King James Version and check it out. Even though their words were different, their messages were always the same. The colorful cover showed a wear not reflected by the pages inside. I carry it with me to church and often carry it around the house, trying to find the right place to store it, something that would make it easy for me to see and thereby read every day.
I felt something within me and words rose up from my heart. “Yes, Lord, we had talked last night about me spending more time with you each morning. The preacher on TV had talked about our need to be warriors. He had said Elisha was chosen because he had a sword and reminded us your word is a two edged sword. And the main use of the bible is to read it. But first let me fix this tab. Come with me it will only take a few minutes. I promise.” I walked into the kitchen and noticed the green light on the dishwasher door. I opened it and pulled out the bottom rack. No, wait, ‘THE GLUE!’
High on the shelves in the laundry room sat the various clear plastic shoeboxes containing everything from batteries to glitter to tea-lite candles, beads, feathers, acrylic paint, light bulbs and…glue! I pulled the top box down, lifted the blue lid and dug for the tiny tube of super glue; there it was, at the bottom backside of the box. I laid the box on the dryer and retreated from the laundry room, passing the bible and headed up the stairs to the master bath. I found the most appropriate door for the tab and as I was applying the glue to the tab I caught a glimpse of a small drop falling toward the floor. “Dang!” And, yes, that is what I thought. I didn’t say it aloud because my husband was out of sight but not out of hearing. He would not have appreciated the glue on the rug and would have spent hours trying to find it and clean it up.
I shut the cabinet door carefully and felt nothing wet or sticky on the rug in front of it. On the way to returning the glue to its safe haven for finding it next time, I passed my bible, still sitting on the cupboard. “Yes, Lord, let me eat breakfast and get a cup of coffee. I will be more at peace to hear you then. Just a moment, I promise.” Just past the cupboard I glanced into the kitchen and saw the open dishwasher. “Oh, yeah!” The glue put back I turned to the kitchen and began to vacate the clean dishes from the dishwasher chipping one of my new plates on the side of the kitchen cabinet. “Oh, shoot!” That chore accomplished revealed an empty dishwasher and the remainder of last nights dishes on the counter and table. That would not do. After moving the dirty dishes to the dishwasher and wiping down the Formica with a Clorox cleanup towel, I remembered breakfast.
I hit the remote and the TV came on with a familiar voice exclaiming how God wanted a relationship with us. “Me, too,” I said softly. I put coffee grounds in the basket of the coffee maker and pulled some pancakes I had made a few days ago out of the freezer, popping them into the microwave. Pressing the number one on the solid key pad brought the microwave to life with a soft hum and a bright glow that lit the plate of pancakes turning around slowly inside like a miniature carousel. My tongue slid across my teeth and I realized, with disgust, I had not brushed my teeth this morning. Up the stairs I went passing the Bible again. “Hi, Jesus! You wouldn’t want me distracted by this yucky taste in my mouth now would you? Be back in a minute, I promise!”
I kissed my husband goodbye as we passed in the hallway and he headed off to work. In the bathroom I reached for the cabinet door I had just glued the tab to earlier and prayed I had not glued it shut. It came open without effort. “Thank you, Lord Jesus.” The soft bang of it closing reverberated through the bathroom and master bedroom when I let it shut by itself. I now had a fresh mouth and was ready for my first cup of coffee.
Downstairs, passing the cupboard I saw my bible again. I turned to the breakfast room table and noticed some of last night’s dinner infused into the tablecloth, evident only after the last of the dishes had been removed to the dishwasher. That will stain. The microwave was calling my attention with reminder beeps every minute to let me know that my pancakes were done. I walked to the microwave, opened the door, and moved the bottom pancake to the top, then reset the microwave for 30 seconds. It came to life and the soft hum and glow revealed the carousel turning the opposite direction.
As I removed the sugar bowl, napkins and salt and pepper containers to the counter I heard the TV preacher (a different one than before, this one a lady) shout, “GOD IS A JEALOUS GOD!” Suddenly, I felt bad and glanced at my bible, but the tablecloth had to go. Scooping it up in my arms I stuffed it into the washing machine, filled the machine with soap and turned it on. The microwave was calling again. I put the plate on the bare table, grabbed the syrup from the pantry, poured some on the plate and returned the bottle to its home. The cupboard sat next to the pantry door and on it laid my bible and the memory of a promise. “Yes, Lord, I remember.” I moved the bible to the table behind my plate and turned to the kitchen for that first cup of coffee. Between the coffee and the table I spied my pill holder where I keep my daily vitamin regimen and I placed that on the table next to my plate along with a fork. And, I had to have something to take my vitamins with because I just can’t take them with hot coffee.
I ate my breakfast, took my vitamins, and drank most of my coffee. The plate went to the dishwasher along with the fork and small drinking glass that held juice for taking my vitamins. The pill holder was returned to its home behind the microwave and I returned to the table. The TV preacher’s voice resounded, “HE DESIRES TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU!” I love listening to the various pastors on the TV and their messages, many of which have been very meaningful to me, but is it really that necessary for them to yell at their congregations and us? “ASK HIM TO DRAW YOU NEAR AND TO SHOW YOU HOW MUCH HE LOVES YOU AND HOW MUCH YOU MEAN TO HIM.” I grabbed the bookmark in my bible and open it to John, Chapter 18. Today’s reading covered the sacrifice Jesus Christ made for us. Had I made any sacrifices for Him lately? I couldn’t think of any. I remembered how special we all are to him. “REMEMBER HE WILL LIFT YOU UP YOU JUST HAVE TO SIT BACK AND LET HIM DO IT!” I hit the mute button on the remote.
Suddenly I had a desire to write down the thoughts running through my head. I used to keep a little journal book with my Bible for writing down inspirations I received while reading my Bible, where had I placed that book? “Lord, I can’t wait for the day I will get my act together and stop making all these stupid mistakes!” Suddenly, I felt quietness all around me, inside and out. Then slowly, from somewhere deep inside me, a place that I didn’t recognize at first, I felt…. something…something soft…a sound…no…a feeling…like…a.…a. … a chuckle! Then it grew to laughter. Suddenly, I couldn’t help laughing either. It filled me to the point of tears. “I’m so glad, Lord, I could make you laugh today.” I understood the humor, no, insanity of what I had said. I am human; it is the way God made me. I alone can never ‘get my act together’; only my willingness to allow God to change me will come close to accomplishing that. I will probably never stop making mistakes but God can use these mistakes to help me come closer to ‘getting my act together’. Suddenly the events of the morning had become fun, from that still small voice I heard, “Write it down and share.” I returned to the table with my prayer journal and began to write the story of my wonderful morning. Soon it became difficult to stay up with the story as it formed on the pages, so I began to use only every other line but I was trying to write fast and my handwriting was becoming illegible. I grabbed the journal and headed to my computer, booted it up, opened Microsoft Word and began to type my story.
It is now past noon and I remember that my Bible remains on my kitchen table open to John 18; the sword removed from the sheath, unused. Forgive me, but I have a promise to keep.
The clock read 9:45 am. I awoke late this morning, the blessing of a daughter who can now drive herself to school. I had not meant to sleep this late. Going to bed early and sleeping late was a rarity for me. Actually, the getting up early was the exception; I often went to bed late, getting only 5 or 6 hours of sleep. But last night I slept almost 12 hours and still felt like I had only slept 5 or 6. I 'm sure I would have slept longer but the sound of my husband ‘banging’ the cabinet doors in the bathroom suggested it was time to start the day. Tired as I was, it seemed I had something important to do but I just couldn’t remember what it was.
As I entered the bathroom, my husband handed me a little rubber dot. It was one of those tabs they put on cabinet doors and drawers to keep them from banging when they are shut with natural inertia; or any other time when you don’t shut them gently with your hand. So I hopped … ok, walked stiffly … downstairs to retrieve the super glue. I noticed my bible sitting on the kitchen cupboard as I passed between it and the table on the way to the laundry room where the glue box is stored. This bible is a wonderful translation that makes reading it a joy. Whenever its passages seemed to say something I have never understood before or just something I thought I had never heard I would grab my latest King James Version and check it out. Even though their words were different, their messages were always the same. The colorful cover showed a wear not reflected by the pages inside. I carry it with me to church and often carry it around the house, trying to find the right place to store it, something that would make it easy for me to see and thereby read every day.
I felt something within me and words rose up from my heart. “Yes, Lord, we had talked last night about me spending more time with you each morning. The preacher on TV had talked about our need to be warriors. He had said Elisha was chosen because he had a sword and reminded us your word is a two edged sword. And the main use of the bible is to read it. But first let me fix this tab. Come with me it will only take a few minutes. I promise.” I walked into the kitchen and noticed the green light on the dishwasher door. I opened it and pulled out the bottom rack. No, wait, ‘THE GLUE!’
High on the shelves in the laundry room sat the various clear plastic shoeboxes containing everything from batteries to glitter to tea-lite candles, beads, feathers, acrylic paint, light bulbs and…glue! I pulled the top box down, lifted the blue lid and dug for the tiny tube of super glue; there it was, at the bottom backside of the box. I laid the box on the dryer and retreated from the laundry room, passing the bible and headed up the stairs to the master bath. I found the most appropriate door for the tab and as I was applying the glue to the tab I caught a glimpse of a small drop falling toward the floor. “Dang!” And, yes, that is what I thought. I didn’t say it aloud because my husband was out of sight but not out of hearing. He would not have appreciated the glue on the rug and would have spent hours trying to find it and clean it up.
I shut the cabinet door carefully and felt nothing wet or sticky on the rug in front of it. On the way to returning the glue to its safe haven for finding it next time, I passed my bible, still sitting on the cupboard. “Yes, Lord, let me eat breakfast and get a cup of coffee. I will be more at peace to hear you then. Just a moment, I promise.” Just past the cupboard I glanced into the kitchen and saw the open dishwasher. “Oh, yeah!” The glue put back I turned to the kitchen and began to vacate the clean dishes from the dishwasher chipping one of my new plates on the side of the kitchen cabinet. “Oh, shoot!” That chore accomplished revealed an empty dishwasher and the remainder of last nights dishes on the counter and table. That would not do. After moving the dirty dishes to the dishwasher and wiping down the Formica with a Clorox cleanup towel, I remembered breakfast.
I hit the remote and the TV came on with a familiar voice exclaiming how God wanted a relationship with us. “Me, too,” I said softly. I put coffee grounds in the basket of the coffee maker and pulled some pancakes I had made a few days ago out of the freezer, popping them into the microwave. Pressing the number one on the solid key pad brought the microwave to life with a soft hum and a bright glow that lit the plate of pancakes turning around slowly inside like a miniature carousel. My tongue slid across my teeth and I realized, with disgust, I had not brushed my teeth this morning. Up the stairs I went passing the Bible again. “Hi, Jesus! You wouldn’t want me distracted by this yucky taste in my mouth now would you? Be back in a minute, I promise!”
I kissed my husband goodbye as we passed in the hallway and he headed off to work. In the bathroom I reached for the cabinet door I had just glued the tab to earlier and prayed I had not glued it shut. It came open without effort. “Thank you, Lord Jesus.” The soft bang of it closing reverberated through the bathroom and master bedroom when I let it shut by itself. I now had a fresh mouth and was ready for my first cup of coffee.
Downstairs, passing the cupboard I saw my bible again. I turned to the breakfast room table and noticed some of last night’s dinner infused into the tablecloth, evident only after the last of the dishes had been removed to the dishwasher. That will stain. The microwave was calling my attention with reminder beeps every minute to let me know that my pancakes were done. I walked to the microwave, opened the door, and moved the bottom pancake to the top, then reset the microwave for 30 seconds. It came to life and the soft hum and glow revealed the carousel turning the opposite direction.
As I removed the sugar bowl, napkins and salt and pepper containers to the counter I heard the TV preacher (a different one than before, this one a lady) shout, “GOD IS A JEALOUS GOD!” Suddenly, I felt bad and glanced at my bible, but the tablecloth had to go. Scooping it up in my arms I stuffed it into the washing machine, filled the machine with soap and turned it on. The microwave was calling again. I put the plate on the bare table, grabbed the syrup from the pantry, poured some on the plate and returned the bottle to its home. The cupboard sat next to the pantry door and on it laid my bible and the memory of a promise. “Yes, Lord, I remember.” I moved the bible to the table behind my plate and turned to the kitchen for that first cup of coffee. Between the coffee and the table I spied my pill holder where I keep my daily vitamin regimen and I placed that on the table next to my plate along with a fork. And, I had to have something to take my vitamins with because I just can’t take them with hot coffee.
I ate my breakfast, took my vitamins, and drank most of my coffee. The plate went to the dishwasher along with the fork and small drinking glass that held juice for taking my vitamins. The pill holder was returned to its home behind the microwave and I returned to the table. The TV preacher’s voice resounded, “HE DESIRES TO SPEND TIME WITH YOU!” I love listening to the various pastors on the TV and their messages, many of which have been very meaningful to me, but is it really that necessary for them to yell at their congregations and us? “ASK HIM TO DRAW YOU NEAR AND TO SHOW YOU HOW MUCH HE LOVES YOU AND HOW MUCH YOU MEAN TO HIM.” I grabbed the bookmark in my bible and open it to John, Chapter 18. Today’s reading covered the sacrifice Jesus Christ made for us. Had I made any sacrifices for Him lately? I couldn’t think of any. I remembered how special we all are to him. “REMEMBER HE WILL LIFT YOU UP YOU JUST HAVE TO SIT BACK AND LET HIM DO IT!” I hit the mute button on the remote.
Suddenly I had a desire to write down the thoughts running through my head. I used to keep a little journal book with my Bible for writing down inspirations I received while reading my Bible, where had I placed that book? “Lord, I can’t wait for the day I will get my act together and stop making all these stupid mistakes!” Suddenly, I felt quietness all around me, inside and out. Then slowly, from somewhere deep inside me, a place that I didn’t recognize at first, I felt…. something…something soft…a sound…no…a feeling…like…a.…a. … a chuckle! Then it grew to laughter. Suddenly, I couldn’t help laughing either. It filled me to the point of tears. “I’m so glad, Lord, I could make you laugh today.” I understood the humor, no, insanity of what I had said. I am human; it is the way God made me. I alone can never ‘get my act together’; only my willingness to allow God to change me will come close to accomplishing that. I will probably never stop making mistakes but God can use these mistakes to help me come closer to ‘getting my act together’. Suddenly the events of the morning had become fun, from that still small voice I heard, “Write it down and share.” I returned to the table with my prayer journal and began to write the story of my wonderful morning. Soon it became difficult to stay up with the story as it formed on the pages, so I began to use only every other line but I was trying to write fast and my handwriting was becoming illegible. I grabbed the journal and headed to my computer, booted it up, opened Microsoft Word and began to type my story.
It is now past noon and I remember that my Bible remains on my kitchen table open to John 18; the sword removed from the sheath, unused. Forgive me, but I have a promise to keep.
Monday, August 3, 2009
The Point at the End of My Wits
I don't know why I keep coming here. I know what I can do. I want to believe in myself. But far too often I find myself here once more, feeling lost and worthless. I don't know where to go or which direction to take. Maybe it's hypo-glycemia, I don't know. Its the reason I have difficulty staying on a diet or doing anything else. I want it now, results now. I want to be, I'm tired of becoming. Some times It's not about the journey, its about accomplishments and those seem so far apart. With every new step I feel less successful, less sure. Thank God I can't quit. Its too important to me. It means far too much to me to stop now. So I press on and ignore the feelings of defeat and brokenness inside. I move forward on my own not listening to the depression of others. Their fatigue is mirrored in me and I can't stand it anymore. God help me. Let me begin with sleep. Good night! Now, where's that sleeping pill anyway.
Friday, July 17, 2009
At The Point of Prayer
Life is not what they tell us growing up. We begin with expectations of the possibilities of a well lived life and spend our years attempting to become what we believe we can be. And despite what the world claims, it applies its energy toward making us believe our dreams are too high or we aren't really capable of fullfilling them. From the first moment we allow ourselves to dream we are fighting an uphill battle. "Put your feet on the ground!" I can remember from early on my mother telling me I could be anything I wanted to be and I believed her in my heart. As a young child I, like so many others, watched the idyllic life of Star Trek and dared to dream I could have a place in that near perfect world. So, at the age of 6, I wanted to be an astronaut, to explore space and "go where no man had gone before." Back then the local TV station ran a Saturday Morning Show called, KiTiRiK. They came up with the name by inserting an 'i' between each of the stations call letters (KTRK). The host, named 'KiTiRiK', of course, was a nice looking woman dressed in black furry leotards and a cap with black pointy cats ears. I also remember whiskers painted on her cheeks. It was a popular show for the kids of Houston Texas to come on for their birthday and I dreamed of being on the KiTiRiK Show and riding the birthday carousel. One birthday came and my mom got me and a couple of my friends on the show. I even got to ride the carousel with all the other birthday kids. The carousel would turn and stop at each child and KiTiRiK would ask each one what they wanted to be when they grew up. As I awaited my turn I rehearsed in my head over and over, "astronaut, astronaut, astronaut." When I finally reached the front and the nice lady in the cat costume asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I opened my mouth and uttered, "a nurse." Such has been my life, full of big dreams and even bigger fears.
That was a few years ago. Don't ask how many, I won't tell. But I have learned over time not to be afraid of the world around me. Well, at least not as much. I still have that small little voice telling me "I'm not good enough", "no one believes you can do that", "you aren't as smart as you think you are". . . . . and the biggest is. . . . . ."you are such a liar and they know it". The problem with all these comments is that I don't want to lie or cheat people. I want to believe that I have God given talents and capabilities. I am good enough and if no one believes me, I just need to rely on God to show them or show me what I need to change. Matthew:19:26 states, "But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible." Somehow I know that God will lead me and show me the correct way to go. And while, it may not be the direction I think I should be headed, as long as I allow Him a say in it, it will be the right one.
"Thank you Lord for your devine instruction and daily measure of faith."
That was a few years ago. Don't ask how many, I won't tell. But I have learned over time not to be afraid of the world around me. Well, at least not as much. I still have that small little voice telling me "I'm not good enough", "no one believes you can do that", "you aren't as smart as you think you are". . . . . and the biggest is. . . . . ."you are such a liar and they know it". The problem with all these comments is that I don't want to lie or cheat people. I want to believe that I have God given talents and capabilities. I am good enough and if no one believes me, I just need to rely on God to show them or show me what I need to change. Matthew:19:26 states, "But Jesus beheld them, and said unto them, With men this is impossible; but with God all things are possible." Somehow I know that God will lead me and show me the correct way to go. And while, it may not be the direction I think I should be headed, as long as I allow Him a say in it, it will be the right one.
"Thank you Lord for your devine instruction and daily measure of faith."
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