Life as I knew it changed with my entrance onto the Threshing Floor. This special place exists in cyberspace and is where my mentor group shares, cares, bleeds, and dissects each other's writing. It's where we get threshed and the chaff blown away so that what's left is useful and good. That process is sometimes fun, often times painful. It hurts to have people look at a piece of your work that you're proud of and tell you it needs to change.
But a good writer listens. A great writer learns. An outstanding writer? Well, you'd have to meet my crit partners to see one of those. ;-) I hope to grow up and be that kind of writer someday.
Life changed for me again with my first book contract. In the letter at the front of my first novel, I equate writing a book with carrying and delivering a baby. One thing I didn't put in there was that my first response to learning I was pregnant and when I found out I'd been offered a book contract were identical.
I threw up.
Yep. Feeling overwhelmed, coupled with fear and a whole host of other emotions drop kicked my abs and continued to do so for the entire nine months of each pregnancy and for most of this past year as I've worked on getting my first story ready for the bookstore shelves. All of my babies were worth the pain of the nine months they spent inside me. And just last night as I finished another round of edits, I caught a proud glimpse of my book baby and had to smile. God is so good.
Yesterday I listened to an amazing sermon on worship. What does that have to do with writing? Everything. When I write it's long been my prayer that it would be an act of worship. I've often felt like the runner Eric Liddell when he spoke of feeling God's pleasure when he ran. That's how I feel when I write.
But the pastor asked, “What does worship cost you?” Because true worship is costly. Like the perfume Mary of Bethany poured over Jesus where the disciples clamored against her act of worship, saying “Why this waste?”
Many times this year I’ve said those same words to myself, feeling like I’ve wasted so much to pursue this dream called writing. I’ve felt like I disappointed so many people and had to pass on so many good things because there were not enough hours in the day to do all I or others wanted me to do. So just in case I missed the point that worship is costly and that what Jesus said of Mary, He says of all of His children, the pastor talked a number of times about Jesus’ response to Mary’s worship. Jesus told the disciples to leave Mary alone. “She has done a beautiful thing to me.”
My heart filled at those words that the pastor spoke to the crowd, but that Jesus spoke to my heart. No matter what others have thought of the time I’ve spent writing, Jesus hasn’t despised my offering.
Neither should I.
But I have. There were times this year I wanted to throw it all away and never write again. It hurt. I felt like my writing would never be good enough, never carry the message the Lord put on my heart that I keep trying to get on paper. I’ve feared, still do sometimes, the rejection of bad reviews or people who have unkind things to say about my novel. I’ve cried over times I didn’t get to spend with my husband and children. The physical cost of writing so much has worn me down too. Carpel tunnel and cubital tunnel, as well as nights and nights of too little sleep.
As I was thinking about all this, the pastor shared another scripture. I had to laugh at first because it’s the exact place where the name of my mentor group came from. It’s where King David is talking to the owner of a threshing floor about buying the man’s land to build an altar. The man wanted to give it to the king, but David said this…
"I will not sacrifice to the LORD my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing." (2 Samuel 24:24)
Me either.
And so I put that verse on my computer to challenge and remind me.
True worship is costly.
But I will not give to the Lord that which cost me nothing. And He will not despise my worship. In fact, He whispers His approval. To the enemy of my soul who’d like nothing more than to have me believe his lies about the worthlessness or waste of my worship, Jesus answers loud and clear: “Leave her alone. She has done a beautiful thing to me.”
I pray you’ll join me in pouring your vile of worship over Jesus. He’ll receive it. And its aroma, like Mary’s perfume, will fill the room and bring glory to His name.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
THE ELECTION
THE ELECTION by Jerome Teel
They seek ultimate power.
Nothing can stand in their way.
Ed Burke has waited a lifetime to become president of the United States. He's not about to let his nemesis, Mac Foster, stop him now...especially when he's sold his soul for the Oval Office.
Claudia Duval has lived a rough life. And finally, things have turned around for her after meeting the wealthy Hudson Kinney. But is all what it seems?
When a prominent citizen is murdered in Jackson, Tennessee, attorney Jake Reed doesn't want to know the truth. He just wants to get his client off. But as he investigates, he uncovers a sinister scheme. A scheme that would undermine the very democracy of America...and the freedom of the entire world.
The Election, by Jerome Teel, is a fast-paced, highly readable mystery filled with suspense, intrigue, and political conspiracy. Teel skillfully weaves together themes of faith, family, suffering, and providence in a way that not only compels, but enlightens."
David S. Dockery-President, Union University
Sunday, October 22, 2006
"You don't love me!"
That's what my youngest daughter yelled at me the other day when I wouldn't let her go outside because she was sick and needed to rest. Boy, did her words sting. I've never heard that phrase come out of any of my children's mouths and it stunned me silent.
A pretty incredible feat.
I stammered something about that being a lie and that I truly do love her and was only trying to take care of her. Then I wiped her nose and shortly thereafter put her to bed at naptime.
But those words kept ricocheting around my brain.
“You don’t love me!”
How many times have I yelled the same thing at God? Truth be told, far more times than I’d like to admit. My daughter’s words made that reality impossible to ignore. So here I am again, working out my salvation by typing on the computer.
I think the most startling thing I’ve realized is that unlike me, God isn’t stunned silent or pierced to the heart by angry words. He doesn’t get angry back or scold me for not remembering the infinite times He’s lavished His love on me.
He just keeps on loving me.
And I keep on realizing how much growing up I have yet to do.
But that’s a good place to be because I’m finding the more I recognize God’s amazing grace toward me, the more willing I am extend that grace to those around me. As well as the more and more sensitive I’m growing to the fact that praising God is far more appropriate than railing at Him.
Not quite there yet with praise as my first response, but I’m stepping in that direction. I read an email from a dear friend who has just fought with cancer and is thanking God for his mercy in early detection rather than spewing about having a kidney removed.
That humbled me.
Now, I love this friend dearly and she is truly an amazing woman. Even so, I would guess she’s struggled with things. But what we hear from her is praise.
Not two-year-old wailings about, “You don’t love me!”
Or thirty-something wailings about how tough life is and how God must not love me very much.
Praise God for Philippians 1:6: “He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ.”
Amen.
My littlest princess came back to me later and said, “I love you, Mommy!” I asked her if she knew that I loved her too. Her response? “You love me sooooo much!”
Yep, I sure do. I’m glad she says that far more than she says otherwise. I’m praying to get to that place with God, too. He’s already promised to complete the good work He’s begun.
Guess that’s proof positive You sure DO love us, huh, Daddy?
:-)
A pretty incredible feat.
I stammered something about that being a lie and that I truly do love her and was only trying to take care of her. Then I wiped her nose and shortly thereafter put her to bed at naptime.
But those words kept ricocheting around my brain.
“You don’t love me!”
How many times have I yelled the same thing at God? Truth be told, far more times than I’d like to admit. My daughter’s words made that reality impossible to ignore. So here I am again, working out my salvation by typing on the computer.
I think the most startling thing I’ve realized is that unlike me, God isn’t stunned silent or pierced to the heart by angry words. He doesn’t get angry back or scold me for not remembering the infinite times He’s lavished His love on me.
He just keeps on loving me.
And I keep on realizing how much growing up I have yet to do.
But that’s a good place to be because I’m finding the more I recognize God’s amazing grace toward me, the more willing I am extend that grace to those around me. As well as the more and more sensitive I’m growing to the fact that praising God is far more appropriate than railing at Him.
Not quite there yet with praise as my first response, but I’m stepping in that direction. I read an email from a dear friend who has just fought with cancer and is thanking God for his mercy in early detection rather than spewing about having a kidney removed.
That humbled me.
Now, I love this friend dearly and she is truly an amazing woman. Even so, I would guess she’s struggled with things. But what we hear from her is praise.
Not two-year-old wailings about, “You don’t love me!”
Or thirty-something wailings about how tough life is and how God must not love me very much.
Praise God for Philippians 1:6: “He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ.”
Amen.
My littlest princess came back to me later and said, “I love you, Mommy!” I asked her if she knew that I loved her too. Her response? “You love me sooooo much!”
Yep, I sure do. I’m glad she says that far more than she says otherwise. I’m praying to get to that place with God, too. He’s already promised to complete the good work He’s begun.
Guess that’s proof positive You sure DO love us, huh, Daddy?
:-)
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Like Dandelion Dust
A PEACEFUL TOWN...
AN IDYLLIC FAMILY...
A PHONE CALL THAT THREATENS THEM ALL.
Jack and Molly Campbell enjoyed an idyllic life in their small hometown outside Atlanta with their adopted 4-year-old, Joey. Then they receive the phone call that shatters their world: a social worker delivers the news that Joey's biological father has been released from prison and is ready to start life over with his son.
When a judge rules that Joey must be returned to his father, the Campbells, in a silent haze of grief and utter disbelief, watch their son pick a dandelion and blow the feathery seeds into the wind. Struggling with the dilemma of following the law, their hearts, and what they know to be morally right, the Campbells find that desperation leads to dangerous thoughts. What if they can devise a plan? Take Joey and simply disappear....LIKE DANDELION DUST.
About the Author:
USA Today and New York Times bestselling author Karen Kingsbury is America's #1 inspirational novelist. There are nearly 5 million copies of her award-winning books in print, including more than two million copies sold in the past year. Karen has written more than 30 novels, nine of which have hit #1 on national lists, including award-winning Oceans Apart, One Tuesday Morning, Beyond Tuesday Morning, the Redemption Series and Firstborn Series, and several other bestsellers, one of which was the basis for a CBS Movie-of-the-Week and Gideon's Gift, which is currently in production as a major theatrical release for Christmas 2007. Karen lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband, Don, and their six children, three of whom are adopted from Haiti.
Amy here... if you haven't read a Karen Kingsbury novel, you're missing some great Christian fiction. The characters Karen crafts are alive with depth and conflict and the stories explore the gamut of human emotion. My only caution is that a box of Kleenex is a good thing to have on hand!
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Help, I've been tagged
My good friend Heather tagged me with this. Not sure I'm doing this right, but here goes...
1. Favorite memory of your mother?
One of my favorite memories related to my mom would be my ninth or tenth Christmas when my "big" gift was a huge stuffed teddy bear. Coming down to the dark living room with only seventies multi-color tree lights blinking, that big teddy bear sitting in a chair with my name on it and a bow on top was awesome! And knowing that my mom gave it to me just because she knew I loved teddy bears is a great memory.
I still have that bear. Only now it belongs to my oldest who is following in her mommy's footsteps and curling up to read in Ted D. Bear's big lap. (creative bear names weren't my thing as a kid... LOL)
2. Favorite memory of your father?
My step-dad is the only dad I've ever known and I love him dearly. My favorite memory with my dad is when he'd go to church with me and everyone would say how much we looked alike. We'd just smile and say, "Thanks." Knowing my dad chose me and remembering how his eyes would twinkle because someone said I looked like him is a great memory.
3. What one skill would you like to wake up tomorrow and be able to do (though you'd never learned it)?
I'd like to wake up tomorrow with the abilities of an astronaut and a shuttle mission to go on. My family and I watched this incredible DVD titled INDESCRIBABLE by Louie Giglio. Within this amazing DVD are images from the Hubble Space Telescope. Please check out this link for a real treat... “X” structure at the core of the Whirlpool Galaxy. The heavens truly declare the glory of God.
4. Which one of your dreams has come true?
For the last four years it's been my dream to see my first novel published. I'm living that dream right now with an April 07 release date for Ransomed Dreams.
It's an awesome privilege to live a dream, one God created you for. But that's only part of it. Living out a dream is one way to bring glory to God. Just like the stars declare God's glory by just being, so do we. Walking with God and glorifying Him by enjoying Him. That's a dream every one of us can experience.
I'm tagging: Jen and Staci.
1. Favorite memory of your mother?
One of my favorite memories related to my mom would be my ninth or tenth Christmas when my "big" gift was a huge stuffed teddy bear. Coming down to the dark living room with only seventies multi-color tree lights blinking, that big teddy bear sitting in a chair with my name on it and a bow on top was awesome! And knowing that my mom gave it to me just because she knew I loved teddy bears is a great memory.
I still have that bear. Only now it belongs to my oldest who is following in her mommy's footsteps and curling up to read in Ted D. Bear's big lap. (creative bear names weren't my thing as a kid... LOL)
2. Favorite memory of your father?
My step-dad is the only dad I've ever known and I love him dearly. My favorite memory with my dad is when he'd go to church with me and everyone would say how much we looked alike. We'd just smile and say, "Thanks." Knowing my dad chose me and remembering how his eyes would twinkle because someone said I looked like him is a great memory.
3. What one skill would you like to wake up tomorrow and be able to do (though you'd never learned it)?
I'd like to wake up tomorrow with the abilities of an astronaut and a shuttle mission to go on. My family and I watched this incredible DVD titled INDESCRIBABLE by Louie Giglio. Within this amazing DVD are images from the Hubble Space Telescope. Please check out this link for a real treat... “X” structure at the core of the Whirlpool Galaxy. The heavens truly declare the glory of God.
4. Which one of your dreams has come true?
For the last four years it's been my dream to see my first novel published. I'm living that dream right now with an April 07 release date for Ransomed Dreams.
It's an awesome privilege to live a dream, one God created you for. But that's only part of it. Living out a dream is one way to bring glory to God. Just like the stars declare God's glory by just being, so do we. Walking with God and glorifying Him by enjoying Him. That's a dream every one of us can experience.
I'm tagging: Jen and Staci.
Friday, October 13, 2006
A poem of Truth~ can you relate?
Christians - By Maya Angelou
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'."
I'm whispering "I was lost,
Now I'm found and forgiven."
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
And need Christ to be my guide.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak
And need His strength to carry on.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed
And need God to clean my mess.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible
But, God believes I am worth it.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain.
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon His name.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not holier than thou,
I'm just a simple sinner
Who received God's good grace, somehow!
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'."
I'm whispering "I was lost,
Now I'm found and forgiven."
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
And need Christ to be my guide.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak
And need His strength to carry on.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed
And need God to clean my mess.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect,
My flaws are far too visible
But, God believes I am worth it.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain.
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon His name.
When I say... "I am a Christian"
I'm not holier than thou,
I'm just a simple sinner
Who received God's good grace, somehow!
Violette Between
Don't miss Violette Between by Alison Strobel!
BETWEEN HERE AND THE PAST, THERE LIES A PLACE...a place of longing for what has been rather than hoping for what could be!
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1578567947
http://alisonstrobel.com/
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Doing a new thing
I'm doing a new blogging thing at least once a week~ taking part in some awesome blog tours. I hope you'll be blessed and encouraged as you take a dip into the great world of Christian fiction!BETWEEN HERE AND THE PAST, THERE LIES A PLACE...a place of longing for what has been rather than hoping for what could be!
This week's tour is a fascinating women's fiction novel entitled Violette Between written by Alison Stroble
Violette Between is a poignant story of a true artist. When the love of Violette's life, Saul, suddenly dies, she dies too. Climbing back into life after her loss, she meets Christian, a psychologist who not only understands her struggles but offers safety and his heart. As Violette and Christian begin to feel something they both thought impossible, tragedy strikes again.
Christian holds a vigil at Violette's bedside, where she is in a coma, begging her to come back to him. While in a coma, Violette becomes trapped in a place of past memories–and she finds that she may not want to come back.
What would it be like to choose a place between the past and the present?
Violette Between is a powerful character study of a woman finally relinquishing the past to move on, only to be thrust into the quandary of reliving that life and needing to make a choice. For Christians, this will definitely make you think about heaven and the consequences of eternal life.
"Delving into the underside of complicated relationships, Alison Strobel takes readers to unexpected places, but doesn't hesitate to deliver redemption when needed."---Melody Carlson, author of Finding Alice
About the author: Alison graduated with a degree in elementary education, and in the summer of 2000 she moved from Chicago to southern California where she taught elementary school for three years. It was in Orange County that she met her husband, Daniel Morrow, and the story developed for her first novel, Worlds Collide.
http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1578567947
http://alisonstrobel.com/
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Glass houses and feeling invisible
You know you're a writer when the best way to work out your salvation and frustration is to write or type away on a keyboard. So that's what I'm doing today.
I’ve been home from the American Christian Fiction Writers conference in Dallas, TX for three days now and I can’t shake a word phrase I shared with a few friends in describing my conference experience.
A glass house.
That’s a pretty apt description of the way I feel about most things in my life. I feel like I’m alone outside a huge glass house in which all my friends and other people are having a great time. I can see them. Talk to them. But I can’t really touch or been seen by them.
Please don’t get me wrong, the ACFW conference was incredible. It’s just my gift from God this year came in the form of haunting worship and deep conviction in my heart. Conviction that I’ve chosen this glass house and remain the reason for my own loneliness.
The big question for me is why? And, as is often the case, just getting my thoughts in print helps me to answer that question easily.
Fear.
I think that’s why I stay outside the glass house and grumble about feeling invisible. Even if I long to be invited inside, it’s somehow “safer” to remain on the outside looking in from a distance.
Outside I don’t worry about making a fool of myself or being rejected. As if that hurts more than pervasive loneliness.
Since the ACFW conference, I’m beginning to wonder if that’s true. After listening to and reading about other writers’ stories on what an awesome conference experience they had, I’m starting to think I missed out because I let fear win.
That’s not to say I didn’t have some wonderful moments. Hanging out with my best friend Saturday and laughing with a few precious people Saturday night was awesome. The worship at ACFW was incredible too. As was listening to Liz Curtis Higgs and hearing the Lord speak straight to my heart.
But in truth all those things only illuminated the glass house feeling and made me see this is a theme in my life. Not a glorious realization.
Actually it’s a pretty painful one.
And one I have no idea how to fix or change.
But just in writing this, I feel a stirring in my heart. God is at work there. Doing His painful but fruitful pruning. Poking on the wounds that lies have made and asking me to bring them to Him.
Lies like I’m invisible. Which when I live like that lie is true, I create self-inflicted wounds of fearful living. Loneliness. Missed opportunities to reach out to others and love well. Those wounds spiral downward to create “proof” that I really am invisible. And so the cycle continues.
Until God says, “Peace. Be still.”
It’s scary to be still in front of a holy God who knows every thought of my heart. It seems easier to hide and pretend it’s someone else’s fault I feel alone.
But it’s not. Hiding and blame don’t change anything or help anyone.
And God’s not letting me get away with it this year. It’s been a tough year that feels like everything I’ve touched has gone up in smoke. But there is one thing that remains.
God.
My holy, perfect, all-knowing Daddy. Who in the midst of my toddleresque blame game and hiding still reaches out His hand and draws me to Him.
One thing Liz Curtis Higgs asked us to do during one of her amazing keynote addresses at ACFW was to look in the mirror, stretch out our arms, see ourselves as God sees us, and proclaim: “Ta-da!”
I didn’t do it. Not in my heart.
And I still couldn’t even when I crawled into the safe surroundings of my family who love me so well. But God used them to keep me unsettled—their smiles and their words of love all touched that “I’m alone” lie.
My girls were so excited when I came home and declared over and over that I am the best mommy… EVER! I smiled and shook my head knowing so well that I don’t deserve that title.
But then while writing this, God brought to mind my daughters’ genuine declarations of love, my husband’s eyes that mirror his loving words, and the words and emails of friends who really do see me and really do like me.
Maybe I’m not living outside that glass house after all.
Maybe I’m not invisible.
Then God settles the “maybe” question and whispers to my heart, “I AM the God who sees. I have called you by name. You are Mine.”
That truth is true for all of us who are followers of Christ. We are seen. We are loved. Perfectly. Completely. Even when we don’t feel it.
Does hearing those words change everything? Not exactly. This year has still been hard. I still have a lot of growing up to do. But listening to the Spirit whisper to my heart that I do belong… to Him…that changes the most important thing.
My heart.
So instead of dwelling on my mistakes, misconceptions, or hiding behind glass house living, I’m going to choose to tell myself the truth. I’m going to listen to the Truth.
God says we are wonderfully made. Totally loved. Fully forgiven. His.
I think I’m ready to follow Liz’s instructions. I hope you’ll join me.
Take a long look in the mirror…
Remember Who created you and how He smiles at you…
Lift up your hands…
Agree with your heavenly Daddy and say…
“TA-DA!”
I’ve been home from the American Christian Fiction Writers conference in Dallas, TX for three days now and I can’t shake a word phrase I shared with a few friends in describing my conference experience.
A glass house.
That’s a pretty apt description of the way I feel about most things in my life. I feel like I’m alone outside a huge glass house in which all my friends and other people are having a great time. I can see them. Talk to them. But I can’t really touch or been seen by them.
Please don’t get me wrong, the ACFW conference was incredible. It’s just my gift from God this year came in the form of haunting worship and deep conviction in my heart. Conviction that I’ve chosen this glass house and remain the reason for my own loneliness.
The big question for me is why? And, as is often the case, just getting my thoughts in print helps me to answer that question easily.
Fear.
I think that’s why I stay outside the glass house and grumble about feeling invisible. Even if I long to be invited inside, it’s somehow “safer” to remain on the outside looking in from a distance.
Outside I don’t worry about making a fool of myself or being rejected. As if that hurts more than pervasive loneliness.
Since the ACFW conference, I’m beginning to wonder if that’s true. After listening to and reading about other writers’ stories on what an awesome conference experience they had, I’m starting to think I missed out because I let fear win.
That’s not to say I didn’t have some wonderful moments. Hanging out with my best friend Saturday and laughing with a few precious people Saturday night was awesome. The worship at ACFW was incredible too. As was listening to Liz Curtis Higgs and hearing the Lord speak straight to my heart.
But in truth all those things only illuminated the glass house feeling and made me see this is a theme in my life. Not a glorious realization.
Actually it’s a pretty painful one.
And one I have no idea how to fix or change.
But just in writing this, I feel a stirring in my heart. God is at work there. Doing His painful but fruitful pruning. Poking on the wounds that lies have made and asking me to bring them to Him.
Lies like I’m invisible. Which when I live like that lie is true, I create self-inflicted wounds of fearful living. Loneliness. Missed opportunities to reach out to others and love well. Those wounds spiral downward to create “proof” that I really am invisible. And so the cycle continues.
Until God says, “Peace. Be still.”
It’s scary to be still in front of a holy God who knows every thought of my heart. It seems easier to hide and pretend it’s someone else’s fault I feel alone.
But it’s not. Hiding and blame don’t change anything or help anyone.
And God’s not letting me get away with it this year. It’s been a tough year that feels like everything I’ve touched has gone up in smoke. But there is one thing that remains.
God.
My holy, perfect, all-knowing Daddy. Who in the midst of my toddleresque blame game and hiding still reaches out His hand and draws me to Him.
One thing Liz Curtis Higgs asked us to do during one of her amazing keynote addresses at ACFW was to look in the mirror, stretch out our arms, see ourselves as God sees us, and proclaim: “Ta-da!”
I didn’t do it. Not in my heart.
And I still couldn’t even when I crawled into the safe surroundings of my family who love me so well. But God used them to keep me unsettled—their smiles and their words of love all touched that “I’m alone” lie.
My girls were so excited when I came home and declared over and over that I am the best mommy… EVER! I smiled and shook my head knowing so well that I don’t deserve that title.
But then while writing this, God brought to mind my daughters’ genuine declarations of love, my husband’s eyes that mirror his loving words, and the words and emails of friends who really do see me and really do like me.
Maybe I’m not living outside that glass house after all.
Maybe I’m not invisible.
Then God settles the “maybe” question and whispers to my heart, “I AM the God who sees. I have called you by name. You are Mine.”
That truth is true for all of us who are followers of Christ. We are seen. We are loved. Perfectly. Completely. Even when we don’t feel it.
Does hearing those words change everything? Not exactly. This year has still been hard. I still have a lot of growing up to do. But listening to the Spirit whisper to my heart that I do belong… to Him…that changes the most important thing.
My heart.
So instead of dwelling on my mistakes, misconceptions, or hiding behind glass house living, I’m going to choose to tell myself the truth. I’m going to listen to the Truth.
God says we are wonderfully made. Totally loved. Fully forgiven. His.
I think I’m ready to follow Liz’s instructions. I hope you’ll join me.
Take a long look in the mirror…
Remember Who created you and how He smiles at you…
Lift up your hands…
Agree with your heavenly Daddy and say…
“TA-DA!”
Thursday, September 14, 2006
The Way Back
A few days ago my best friend and I talked about "the distinguishable presence of God." Her awesome pastor had posed this question in a recent sermon: "Would you even know if the presence of God was missing from your life?"
My answer was a resounding, "YES!" Because that distinguishable presence had been missing for a while and the absence was becoming more and more painful.
That question and our resulting conversation helped me take a baby step back towards God. It helped me identify the gaping hole in my heart and put words to my huge but hazy longings.
Then came my husband’s email with an awesome devotional link and the awesome comments to my “life in the pain lane” blog. Another step came when I was teaching my fourth grader grammar. Please note teaching grammar is not on my “love to do list” but I’ve learned as much as my firstborn. On this particular day we were talking about the wisdom of journaling and how to start her school journal for this year. I said something that hit me upside my head and got me thinking. “Journaling is how I work things out. When I put words on paper, that helps me to see more clearly the things I’m struggling with. It helps me hear God.”
One more baby step back.
The next step isn’t one I am proud of. It was a huge fight my husband and I got into long distance that bled into an awful attitude towards my children. But I woke up this morning knowing I couldn’t go on like this. Living over a week without God’s presence was like going a week without water. I was parched. And I knew what I had to do.
I journaled. Not just my thoughts, but also my sins. I knew I’d blown it big time with my girls and my husband yesterday. I didn’t want a repeat performance. The only way I knew not to was to run to God.
So I did.
I confessed my sins and the lies I’d been listening to for months now. Lies like I’m a failure as a writer, a wife, and a parent. Lies like God doesn’t love me because if He did I wouldn’t be in this much pain.
Those lies might sound silly in the light. But let me tell you, they’re powerful in the dark just buzzing around in the background of life.
I quickly rejected those lies and stood against the one who provoked the discord between my family and me. What the enemy obviously meant for evil, God clearly meant for good.
It was my path back into His presence.
God knows me so well. He knew I couldn’t teach my daughters well or sit before my students on Sunday and teach about a God I wasn’t talking to or trusting. So He reminded me of that and offered His full attention as I poured out my heart.
Then He spoke. A few short whispers to my heart. Two Bible verses. One about Him being with me always and the other about why my sin didn’t surprise Him. You know that verse about how there’s none of us righteous, no not one? Well, me in my sheep-likeness had wondered far from that truth.
I’d acted as though I deserved God’s forgiveness and had dismissed my sin being part of the problem ~ not exactly calling it righteous anger, but understandable anger that anyone would feel given the awful circumstances I was in. I’d also thought I could demand His healing because I’m His child.
So He had to remind me that HE is the Father and I, being His CHILD, have SO MUCH to learn.
God also reminded me that His smile is on me too.
I cried and cried. In the midst of the tears, I savored His presence return to my life.
I later talked things through with my husband and children and sought their forgiveness. They are so amazing to be so quick to forgive me and love me.
Then I blew it again with one of my girls over some schoolwork.
But I could sense God’s presence and I cut my words off before another fight kicked into overdrive. I prayed with my girls and talked with the one I’d been harsh toward. Afterwards we both agreed that had gone better and we’d resolved it far quicker than times in the past. We’re both growing. I wish I grew faster. And I wish I’d never feel anger again.
But I’m a sheep. So says God’s Word. I don’t care for being equated with a dumb, forgetful animal. But the analogy fits. I’m just thankful I have a Good Shepherd who knows the paths I travel and when I falter, He’s there to lead me home.
My prayers are still for relief from the pain and for circumstances to work out the way I’d like. But with the return of God’s presence, I’ve experience something I haven’t done in many months…
Rest.
And my prayers are slowly turning onto a little different trail. More along the lines of, “Keep me walking close to You, Daddy. Help me remember.”
My answer was a resounding, "YES!" Because that distinguishable presence had been missing for a while and the absence was becoming more and more painful.
That question and our resulting conversation helped me take a baby step back towards God. It helped me identify the gaping hole in my heart and put words to my huge but hazy longings.
Then came my husband’s email with an awesome devotional link and the awesome comments to my “life in the pain lane” blog. Another step came when I was teaching my fourth grader grammar. Please note teaching grammar is not on my “love to do list” but I’ve learned as much as my firstborn. On this particular day we were talking about the wisdom of journaling and how to start her school journal for this year. I said something that hit me upside my head and got me thinking. “Journaling is how I work things out. When I put words on paper, that helps me to see more clearly the things I’m struggling with. It helps me hear God.”
One more baby step back.
The next step isn’t one I am proud of. It was a huge fight my husband and I got into long distance that bled into an awful attitude towards my children. But I woke up this morning knowing I couldn’t go on like this. Living over a week without God’s presence was like going a week without water. I was parched. And I knew what I had to do.
I journaled. Not just my thoughts, but also my sins. I knew I’d blown it big time with my girls and my husband yesterday. I didn’t want a repeat performance. The only way I knew not to was to run to God.
So I did.
I confessed my sins and the lies I’d been listening to for months now. Lies like I’m a failure as a writer, a wife, and a parent. Lies like God doesn’t love me because if He did I wouldn’t be in this much pain.
Those lies might sound silly in the light. But let me tell you, they’re powerful in the dark just buzzing around in the background of life.
I quickly rejected those lies and stood against the one who provoked the discord between my family and me. What the enemy obviously meant for evil, God clearly meant for good.
It was my path back into His presence.
God knows me so well. He knew I couldn’t teach my daughters well or sit before my students on Sunday and teach about a God I wasn’t talking to or trusting. So He reminded me of that and offered His full attention as I poured out my heart.
Then He spoke. A few short whispers to my heart. Two Bible verses. One about Him being with me always and the other about why my sin didn’t surprise Him. You know that verse about how there’s none of us righteous, no not one? Well, me in my sheep-likeness had wondered far from that truth.
I’d acted as though I deserved God’s forgiveness and had dismissed my sin being part of the problem ~ not exactly calling it righteous anger, but understandable anger that anyone would feel given the awful circumstances I was in. I’d also thought I could demand His healing because I’m His child.
So He had to remind me that HE is the Father and I, being His CHILD, have SO MUCH to learn.
God also reminded me that His smile is on me too.
I cried and cried. In the midst of the tears, I savored His presence return to my life.
I later talked things through with my husband and children and sought their forgiveness. They are so amazing to be so quick to forgive me and love me.
Then I blew it again with one of my girls over some schoolwork.
But I could sense God’s presence and I cut my words off before another fight kicked into overdrive. I prayed with my girls and talked with the one I’d been harsh toward. Afterwards we both agreed that had gone better and we’d resolved it far quicker than times in the past. We’re both growing. I wish I grew faster. And I wish I’d never feel anger again.
But I’m a sheep. So says God’s Word. I don’t care for being equated with a dumb, forgetful animal. But the analogy fits. I’m just thankful I have a Good Shepherd who knows the paths I travel and when I falter, He’s there to lead me home.
My prayers are still for relief from the pain and for circumstances to work out the way I’d like. But with the return of God’s presence, I’ve experience something I haven’t done in many months…
Rest.
And my prayers are slowly turning onto a little different trail. More along the lines of, “Keep me walking close to You, Daddy. Help me remember.”
Tuesday, September 12, 2006
Pain lane comments
I have read and reread the amazing comments posted to my last blog. Coupled with an Oswald Chambers devotion my husband sent me today, I’m starting to gain some footing.
The title of the Oswald Chambers devotion was “Going Through Spiritual Confusion.” Pretty appropriate for where I am.
“There are times in your spiritual life when there is confusion, and the way out of it is not simply to say that you should not be confused. It is not a matter of right and wrong, but a matter of God taking you through a way that you temporarily do not understand. And it is only by going through the spiritual confusion that you will come to the understanding of what God wants for you…Stand firm in the faith, believing that what Jesus said is true, although in the meantime you do not understand what God is doing.”~ September 12 My Utmost for His Highest
Maybe what has me at a better place is just the permission to “be” from this devotion and loving friends’ words. That alone is gold. But it’s also the realization that I’m not alone in the experience of pain and the spiritual confusion that has followed.
Knowing that I’m not alone in making it to the other side is also huge.
I’m not on that “other side” yet. It doesn’t feel like I’ll get there soon either. But for today, right this moment, I can say I’m okay because I know I’m loved. I’m prayed for. And even though God feels distant, I know He is not.
Special thanks go out to…
My husband~ thanks for loving me when I’m acting far from loveable. Your prayers, words, and emails are helping chip away at the walls I’ve allowed to surround my heart in recent months.
Kirstin~ your honest openness blows me away. I do remember when you couldn’t sing “Jesus Loves Me” and when someone showed up at your door with that money order. Remembering those times brought tears to my eyes… something I haven’t experienced lately. It felt good to feel again. Thank you. Knowing you know well where I am right now and that you are an awesome example of “God’s grace is sufficient” gives me hope. Something I needed very much.
Sally~ I’m honored to be in such good company. Thank you for your prayers and your words borne of understanding and deep faith. Remembering that God Himself is interceding for me and that my Daddy’s lap is never closed to me were words I needed to hear.
Hannah~ your wisdom and grace far exceed your years. Thank you for reminding me “it’s okay!” and that being real is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Heather~ your hugs and prayers have spanned the miles between us. Thank you!
Sharon~ your post was one of those tangible reminders of His love that you are praying for. Thank you. You’ve listened to me spout off about life and writing stress and returned to me abundant grace and encouragement. God is most definitely in your words.
Kaye~ thank you for permission to do the very things that so many think are “unspiritual” but are in truth total honesty. I love Job and appreciated the reminder that Job’s honesty before God was commended. God knows our hearts anyway and trying to hide that helps no one.
Even without answers or a reprieve from the pain that I’ve been hoping would come sooner than later, just typing those thank you’s reminds me of how much I’ve been given.
Thank you.
For the prayers.
For reading here on this blog.
And for caring.
Not only that, but also for being living stones of remembrance, a gift of encouragement. How powerful are good words spoken at just the right moment!
The title of the Oswald Chambers devotion was “Going Through Spiritual Confusion.” Pretty appropriate for where I am.
“There are times in your spiritual life when there is confusion, and the way out of it is not simply to say that you should not be confused. It is not a matter of right and wrong, but a matter of God taking you through a way that you temporarily do not understand. And it is only by going through the spiritual confusion that you will come to the understanding of what God wants for you…Stand firm in the faith, believing that what Jesus said is true, although in the meantime you do not understand what God is doing.”~ September 12 My Utmost for His Highest
Maybe what has me at a better place is just the permission to “be” from this devotion and loving friends’ words. That alone is gold. But it’s also the realization that I’m not alone in the experience of pain and the spiritual confusion that has followed.
Knowing that I’m not alone in making it to the other side is also huge.
I’m not on that “other side” yet. It doesn’t feel like I’ll get there soon either. But for today, right this moment, I can say I’m okay because I know I’m loved. I’m prayed for. And even though God feels distant, I know He is not.
Special thanks go out to…
My husband~ thanks for loving me when I’m acting far from loveable. Your prayers, words, and emails are helping chip away at the walls I’ve allowed to surround my heart in recent months.
Kirstin~ your honest openness blows me away. I do remember when you couldn’t sing “Jesus Loves Me” and when someone showed up at your door with that money order. Remembering those times brought tears to my eyes… something I haven’t experienced lately. It felt good to feel again. Thank you. Knowing you know well where I am right now and that you are an awesome example of “God’s grace is sufficient” gives me hope. Something I needed very much.
Sally~ I’m honored to be in such good company. Thank you for your prayers and your words borne of understanding and deep faith. Remembering that God Himself is interceding for me and that my Daddy’s lap is never closed to me were words I needed to hear.
Hannah~ your wisdom and grace far exceed your years. Thank you for reminding me “it’s okay!” and that being real is exactly where I’m supposed to be.
Heather~ your hugs and prayers have spanned the miles between us. Thank you!
Sharon~ your post was one of those tangible reminders of His love that you are praying for. Thank you. You’ve listened to me spout off about life and writing stress and returned to me abundant grace and encouragement. God is most definitely in your words.
Kaye~ thank you for permission to do the very things that so many think are “unspiritual” but are in truth total honesty. I love Job and appreciated the reminder that Job’s honesty before God was commended. God knows our hearts anyway and trying to hide that helps no one.
Even without answers or a reprieve from the pain that I’ve been hoping would come sooner than later, just typing those thank you’s reminds me of how much I’ve been given.
Thank you.
For the prayers.
For reading here on this blog.
And for caring.
Not only that, but also for being living stones of remembrance, a gift of encouragement. How powerful are good words spoken at just the right moment!
Saturday, September 09, 2006
Life in the pain lane
Okay, goofy title, but a pretty apt description of how I see life right now. And it’s not just physical pain either, but something much deeper. Something that goes down to the roots of my religious thinking.
I'm starting to doubt God. Not His existence. But His goodness.
It didn’t bother me much to question God when I was a teenager. Or even as a young adult. I’d spout off my doubts to anyone who would listen and engage in an array of conversations, often coming away thinking I’d learned enough to make me feel okay.
But now my circle of influence grows larger than the student crowd at a university college. I’m a wife, mom, teacher, writer, and leader in community and writing groups. Were I to spout off the venom I feel growing inside, I’d do more hurt than I want to imagine.
Responsibility and years of Bible reading press in on me. But it doesn’t change the pain in my heart. And in all honesty, I don’t really want to talk it over with God. I know that’s the only place to find peace.
But He’s also the One allowing a whole host of painful things in my life.
Career challenges for both my husband and me. The great unknown with enough to know things could get rocky fast. Financial stress. Marital struggles under all the pressure. On top of that, in the past month I’ve been through a host of what I thought were “old people” tests to see why I’m falling apart at the seams. From EKG’s to x-rays to being zapped and bleeding from an EMG that tested the nerves in my arms and hands, I feel like crying “UNCLE” and not waking up until all of this pain is gone.
Which won’t be gone unless God decides I’ve had enough and starts healing the things I’ve begged Him for years to heal. I wish I could say with Job “Though He slay me, yet I will trust in Him.” Or that I could agree with the apostle Paul’s outlook and rejoice in my weaknesses.
But I’m not.
Some days I can’t even think straight because my blood sugars are so out of whack and I’m exhausted from not sleeping well. Usually I journal or type through my foggy mental state or questions about God, but now that’s another painful reminder of why I’m struggling with God’s goodness.
How is it good that my arms and hands are numb and painful because of carpal tunnel and cubital tunnel and I struggle to do the simplest of things I know I’ve been called to do? How is it good that I have yet another chronic illness that makes eating or not eating like a volcano erupting in my abdomen?
Maybe those are the wrong questions.
But my heart can’t get past them right now. Especially when I consider that my flawed genetics are going to set my kids up for serious physical issues in the future.
I know we live in a fallen world. I’m just struggling with how hard that world is falling on me right now.
I wish I had some insight to share or even a line of wisdom. But I’m empty.
The few people I’ve talked to about all this have repeated to me words I’ve said to other discouraged folks. “Run to God.” “God is a perfect Comforter and will heal your heart when you turn to Him.” I felt those words as truth when I said it and I’m sure my friends did too.
But those sentiments are hitting brick walls of confusion and doubt.
Then I think about my daughters. How will I teach them about God’s love if I don’t believe in it? How will I teach my seniors at church the Truth of God’s Word when I don’t even want to open it right now?
In typing that I recognize the stirring within me. I can’t teach if I don’t believe. And teaching is so much a part of who I am I can’t imagine not doing it. I love my girls too much to really consider walking away from God and leading them down a very wrong path.
God designed me that way. He gave me my children and my class of students knowing I’d come crashing into this construction area time of life. He also made me love the truth so much that I can’t escape it or put on a “Christian mask” until I “get over” this struggle.
So what do I do? I suppose in writing this and posting it, I’m taking the first tentative step out of what feels like a gaping black hole in the road.
I’m admitting my struggle. And I’m asking for prayer.
Last night my older two daughters hugged me before going to bed and said, “I’m praying for you.”
Then my youngest daughter crawled into my lap and looked at my red eyes. “You sad?” she asked.
“Yes” I said swiping at my tears.
She looked straight in my eyes and sighed, “I sorry, Mommy. I love you.”
Thinking back on that now I’m wondering if that’s not the key out of this quagmire of doubt.
To remember I’m loved. Not just by my kids, but by God.
Even if what He’s allowing in my life is beyond what I want to bear, His Word says He loves me. Maybe that’s what I should ponder instead of questions without answers.
God sees the end from the beginning. Maybe, just maybe, there is a good reason He’s allowing all this pain. Construction? Tearing down everything so that only what is immovable remains?
Maybe. The Bible sure says to expect that from life. Not sure why it’s so hard for me to wrap my mind around sometimes. Or to willingly accept.
Pray for me, will you? That I’ll have ears to hear and a heart open to whatever God says is best for my life.
I’ll pray that for you, too.
Hopefully together we can remind each other to hang on to the Truth. No matter what God’s “best” brings.
I'm starting to doubt God. Not His existence. But His goodness.
It didn’t bother me much to question God when I was a teenager. Or even as a young adult. I’d spout off my doubts to anyone who would listen and engage in an array of conversations, often coming away thinking I’d learned enough to make me feel okay.
But now my circle of influence grows larger than the student crowd at a university college. I’m a wife, mom, teacher, writer, and leader in community and writing groups. Were I to spout off the venom I feel growing inside, I’d do more hurt than I want to imagine.
Responsibility and years of Bible reading press in on me. But it doesn’t change the pain in my heart. And in all honesty, I don’t really want to talk it over with God. I know that’s the only place to find peace.
But He’s also the One allowing a whole host of painful things in my life.
Career challenges for both my husband and me. The great unknown with enough to know things could get rocky fast. Financial stress. Marital struggles under all the pressure. On top of that, in the past month I’ve been through a host of what I thought were “old people” tests to see why I’m falling apart at the seams. From EKG’s to x-rays to being zapped and bleeding from an EMG that tested the nerves in my arms and hands, I feel like crying “UNCLE” and not waking up until all of this pain is gone.
Which won’t be gone unless God decides I’ve had enough and starts healing the things I’ve begged Him for years to heal. I wish I could say with Job “Though He slay me, yet I will trust in Him.” Or that I could agree with the apostle Paul’s outlook and rejoice in my weaknesses.
But I’m not.
Some days I can’t even think straight because my blood sugars are so out of whack and I’m exhausted from not sleeping well. Usually I journal or type through my foggy mental state or questions about God, but now that’s another painful reminder of why I’m struggling with God’s goodness.
How is it good that my arms and hands are numb and painful because of carpal tunnel and cubital tunnel and I struggle to do the simplest of things I know I’ve been called to do? How is it good that I have yet another chronic illness that makes eating or not eating like a volcano erupting in my abdomen?
Maybe those are the wrong questions.
But my heart can’t get past them right now. Especially when I consider that my flawed genetics are going to set my kids up for serious physical issues in the future.
I know we live in a fallen world. I’m just struggling with how hard that world is falling on me right now.
I wish I had some insight to share or even a line of wisdom. But I’m empty.
The few people I’ve talked to about all this have repeated to me words I’ve said to other discouraged folks. “Run to God.” “God is a perfect Comforter and will heal your heart when you turn to Him.” I felt those words as truth when I said it and I’m sure my friends did too.
But those sentiments are hitting brick walls of confusion and doubt.
Then I think about my daughters. How will I teach them about God’s love if I don’t believe in it? How will I teach my seniors at church the Truth of God’s Word when I don’t even want to open it right now?
In typing that I recognize the stirring within me. I can’t teach if I don’t believe. And teaching is so much a part of who I am I can’t imagine not doing it. I love my girls too much to really consider walking away from God and leading them down a very wrong path.
God designed me that way. He gave me my children and my class of students knowing I’d come crashing into this construction area time of life. He also made me love the truth so much that I can’t escape it or put on a “Christian mask” until I “get over” this struggle.
So what do I do? I suppose in writing this and posting it, I’m taking the first tentative step out of what feels like a gaping black hole in the road.
I’m admitting my struggle. And I’m asking for prayer.
Last night my older two daughters hugged me before going to bed and said, “I’m praying for you.”
Then my youngest daughter crawled into my lap and looked at my red eyes. “You sad?” she asked.
“Yes” I said swiping at my tears.
She looked straight in my eyes and sighed, “I sorry, Mommy. I love you.”
Thinking back on that now I’m wondering if that’s not the key out of this quagmire of doubt.
To remember I’m loved. Not just by my kids, but by God.
Even if what He’s allowing in my life is beyond what I want to bear, His Word says He loves me. Maybe that’s what I should ponder instead of questions without answers.
God sees the end from the beginning. Maybe, just maybe, there is a good reason He’s allowing all this pain. Construction? Tearing down everything so that only what is immovable remains?
Maybe. The Bible sure says to expect that from life. Not sure why it’s so hard for me to wrap my mind around sometimes. Or to willingly accept.
Pray for me, will you? That I’ll have ears to hear and a heart open to whatever God says is best for my life.
I’ll pray that for you, too.
Hopefully together we can remind each other to hang on to the Truth. No matter what God’s “best” brings.
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Learning from little ones
I'm the very proud mommy of three amazing little girls. My oldest is turning nine this Saturday and is often heard singing around the house, "I'm going to be a PRE-TEEN!" I'm so not ready for that. ;-)
Besides already being eight going on thirty, she's an awesome little girl. My name for her is my Sweet Song. Her smile and who she is deep inside have always been music to my heart. Not only that, but this little jewel reads circles around her mommy and can converse with the best of them on so many topics it makes my head spin. What makes me smile even more than her silly jokes is that she's a lot like her mommy in the desire to learn and grow and become more like Jesus. She runs rings around me there many days too~ especially in memorizing Scripture. But more on that later...
My oldest daughter's often-said prayer is, "Thank You for spending time together." Every time I hear her say it I'm reminded how precious the minutes I spend with my girls are. They are the most precious investment of my time. And the rewards are over the top wonderful.
Most days. ;-) I had to throw that in there because any prophet worth his or her salt strives to be totally honest. And in honor of total truth, there are days I’m almost crying for Calgon to take me away.
But back to the good stuff… I said earlier that my oldest is blowing me away with her Scripture memory. She just joined a class at church called the Just Girls class. Among teaching so many cool things straight out of Proverbs 31, they are memorizing these verses.
These very same verses that many women ~ me included~ run screaming away from. At least I did until recently.
My oldest has been reciting the 12 verses she’s committed to memory in the last week as she’s getting ready in the morning and any other time it pops into her mind~ which is often. What’s cool about that is her little sisters are listening and that’s causing all three to smile, sing along with the verses, and learn from each other.
Mommy included.
But the thing that made me begin to embrace this Proverbs 31 woman was something my middle child, my total prophet kid, said the other day. On a day when I was struggling with thoughts of being the worst parent ever and not getting the million things on my to-do list done, my second-born spoke straight to my heart.
She said, “Mommy, what she’s memorizing is about you!”
Those simple words said with little understanding of their impact still make me cry. My girls scampered off to play, but those words rang in my mind often for the rest of the day. And beyond.
I have no idea what she sees in me that prompted her to say that. But I have a good suspicion she was looking with her Heavenly Father’s eyes and seeing the me I seldom see. The one God looks down on and smiles about as He says, “This is my beloved child, in whom I am well pleased.”
I’m so thankful to God for all three of my awesome daughters. My youngest often surprises me with words that are more of God’s special kisses. Words like I heard her singing to herself the other day, “I have a fwend (friend) named Mommy.”
Not only do these words make me realize how desperately I need God to love my girls as well as they love me, but they also make me see how much I can learn from my children…
Their honesty.
Their ability to see beyond the faults to the heart.
And their unashamed expressions of joy and delight.
Jesus spoke such awesomely wise words when He said to come to Him like little children. And so I come, relearning how to skip for the fun of it, sing because I like to, and love with words and actions because my daughters are teaching me all over again what joy looks like.
My prayer in sharing my sweet girls with you all is that God will awaken or strengthen your desire to come like little children too. There are so many ripples of good that we can start by sharing unhindered words of love and acceptance into our circle of friends and family.
So sing, skip, love well…and learn from little ones.
Besides already being eight going on thirty, she's an awesome little girl. My name for her is my Sweet Song. Her smile and who she is deep inside have always been music to my heart. Not only that, but this little jewel reads circles around her mommy and can converse with the best of them on so many topics it makes my head spin. What makes me smile even more than her silly jokes is that she's a lot like her mommy in the desire to learn and grow and become more like Jesus. She runs rings around me there many days too~ especially in memorizing Scripture. But more on that later...
My oldest daughter's often-said prayer is, "Thank You for spending time together." Every time I hear her say it I'm reminded how precious the minutes I spend with my girls are. They are the most precious investment of my time. And the rewards are over the top wonderful.
Most days. ;-) I had to throw that in there because any prophet worth his or her salt strives to be totally honest. And in honor of total truth, there are days I’m almost crying for Calgon to take me away.
But back to the good stuff… I said earlier that my oldest is blowing me away with her Scripture memory. She just joined a class at church called the Just Girls class. Among teaching so many cool things straight out of Proverbs 31, they are memorizing these verses.
These very same verses that many women ~ me included~ run screaming away from. At least I did until recently.
My oldest has been reciting the 12 verses she’s committed to memory in the last week as she’s getting ready in the morning and any other time it pops into her mind~ which is often. What’s cool about that is her little sisters are listening and that’s causing all three to smile, sing along with the verses, and learn from each other.
Mommy included.
But the thing that made me begin to embrace this Proverbs 31 woman was something my middle child, my total prophet kid, said the other day. On a day when I was struggling with thoughts of being the worst parent ever and not getting the million things on my to-do list done, my second-born spoke straight to my heart.
She said, “Mommy, what she’s memorizing is about you!”
Those simple words said with little understanding of their impact still make me cry. My girls scampered off to play, but those words rang in my mind often for the rest of the day. And beyond.
I have no idea what she sees in me that prompted her to say that. But I have a good suspicion she was looking with her Heavenly Father’s eyes and seeing the me I seldom see. The one God looks down on and smiles about as He says, “This is my beloved child, in whom I am well pleased.”
I’m so thankful to God for all three of my awesome daughters. My youngest often surprises me with words that are more of God’s special kisses. Words like I heard her singing to herself the other day, “I have a fwend (friend) named Mommy.”
Not only do these words make me realize how desperately I need God to love my girls as well as they love me, but they also make me see how much I can learn from my children…
Their honesty.
Their ability to see beyond the faults to the heart.
And their unashamed expressions of joy and delight.
Jesus spoke such awesomely wise words when He said to come to Him like little children. And so I come, relearning how to skip for the fun of it, sing because I like to, and love with words and actions because my daughters are teaching me all over again what joy looks like.
My prayer in sharing my sweet girls with you all is that God will awaken or strengthen your desire to come like little children too. There are so many ripples of good that we can start by sharing unhindered words of love and acceptance into our circle of friends and family.
So sing, skip, love well…and learn from little ones.
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
Ransomed Dreams
I'm so excited to share with you all the cover of my debut novel, Ransomed Dreams!!! A cool inside story is that my wonderful web designer husband created a mock up cover to help me communicate with my publisher about my vision for the cover. Because he knows me so well and is so awesome at what he does, half of his design was utilized by the great folks at Multnomah.So seeing Ransomed Dreams make it into book form has been a family effort every step of the way. ;-)
Another "fun fact" about the cover was discovered by my oldest daughter. She was looking at a printed version and said, "Hey, that looks just like our van!" Yep. Part of the painful realism of the prologue was achieved by using little facts about my life including the type of van I drive.
Stay tuned for more fun announcements and trivia about Ransomed Dreams. Soon we'll have a website just for the Defenders of Hope series and on it there'll be some cool polls to test your inside knowledge about me, Ransomed Dreams, and fun facts about my awesome cast of characters.
My family and I would so appreciate your continued prayers as I finish the race with the three Defenders of Hope novels. Please join us in praying that God would be glorified and people drawn to Him through these stories.
Thursday, August 03, 2006
A unique Thursday Thirteen
In honor of a great friend and fantasic writer, I'm directing you all over to Staci Wilder's blog GLIMPSES to enjoy a very cool Thursday Thirteen that I had a blast participating in.
Here's a taste of what you'll find at Staci's awesome blog...
"Here are thirteen inspirational writers/authors who warmly invite you to visit their writing space. Grab a cup of coffee, herbal tea, or a Diet Coke ('cause, hey, we've got ours!) and then sit with us as we tell you a little bit about the spaces we go to be inspired and - hopefully - to inspire!"
God's best to you all!!!
Here's a taste of what you'll find at Staci's awesome blog...
"Here are thirteen inspirational writers/authors who warmly invite you to visit their writing space. Grab a cup of coffee, herbal tea, or a Diet Coke ('cause, hey, we've got ours!) and then sit with us as we tell you a little bit about the spaces we go to be inspired and - hopefully - to inspire!"
God's best to you all!!!
Saturday, July 29, 2006
ENJOY
2006 started out with a high-flying fireworks kind of bang. I'd just received my first "big break" in the form of a three-book contract with my dream publisher, I'd sold three articles that I was very proud of, we were out of debt for the first time in our marriage, and life felt pretty good.
So it was no surprise to me when I started praying about a word for the coming year that would define something God was going to teach me, that He gave me “enjoy.” I was pretty excited about what the new year would hold.
Come to find out that was sort of like praying for patience…
Watch out! ;-)
In previous posts I’ve shared the plethora of things God put in my life that seemed at the time to contradict my idea of what “enjoy” would mean.
Back to back physical illnesses. Out of control diabetes. My oldest daughter in the ER. Me in the ER. My computer designer husband’s wrist injuries. Cars dying. Marital stress. Extended family stress. Major rewrites. Deadlines.
All of that within a two-month period of time.
To say I was unprepared is a huge understatement.
It was hard to understand how the painful things May and June ushered into my life would teach me about the word enjoy.
Since then I’ve finished two full novels and in the midst of my rejoicing also grieved for two close friends who delivered babies not into a doctor’s hands, but straight to into Jesus’ arms.
I remember that experience well. We named our tiniest one Jordan. His or her silver memorial tear hangs on my Christmas tree every year and Jordan’s name is heard often in our home.
After three years, my arms still long to hold that little one. But the place where tears once reigned, now a different emotion resides.
Joy.
Not the feeling of total happiness and “isn’t the world great?” euphoria. But I think the very thing God had in mind to teach me this year. It took reliving past pain and experiencing fresh wounds and faith-shaking questions for me to see that God was and is teaching me what the verb “to enjoy” really means.
It didn’t come as I expected.
But God’s lesson is taking root in my heart.
Because it’s all about God. Not how well I handle my circumstance. Not how much or how little I smile. Not the big exciting good things that are happening in my life or the major tough issues right alongside.
But I’m learning that “enjoy” is all about how to wrap up in and savor His presence in the midst of life’s ups and downs. The heart-pounding thrills. The gut-wrenching grief. The everyday in betweens.
It’s about hanging out in my Heavenly Daddy’s arms and allowing the unanswered questions and longings of my heart to be quieted by His soft whispers of love.
Enjoy is a much quieter word than I’d originally thought.
It’s also a much more powerful one too.
Isn’t it so like God to take something we think we understand and turn it on its head to show us what He knew we needed to learn?
In the novel I just finished today there’s a minor character that plays a major role in my fiction world as much as my real life. He’s based on a real person whose life was a physical picture of joy.
His love for kids.
His passion for sharing Jesus.
His three-year battle with cancer.
One of the things I have my fictional character say that so reminds me of Ken fits well with my musings about what “enjoy” really means.
He talks about how for better or worse, we need to hold on tight to the truth. Because God is still on His throne. And He is good. Always.
My version of my fictional character’s words: Hang on tight. Love deeply. Slip into Jesus’ arms often.
And enjoy.
So it was no surprise to me when I started praying about a word for the coming year that would define something God was going to teach me, that He gave me “enjoy.” I was pretty excited about what the new year would hold.
Come to find out that was sort of like praying for patience…
Watch out! ;-)
In previous posts I’ve shared the plethora of things God put in my life that seemed at the time to contradict my idea of what “enjoy” would mean.
Back to back physical illnesses. Out of control diabetes. My oldest daughter in the ER. Me in the ER. My computer designer husband’s wrist injuries. Cars dying. Marital stress. Extended family stress. Major rewrites. Deadlines.
All of that within a two-month period of time.
To say I was unprepared is a huge understatement.
It was hard to understand how the painful things May and June ushered into my life would teach me about the word enjoy.
Since then I’ve finished two full novels and in the midst of my rejoicing also grieved for two close friends who delivered babies not into a doctor’s hands, but straight to into Jesus’ arms.
I remember that experience well. We named our tiniest one Jordan. His or her silver memorial tear hangs on my Christmas tree every year and Jordan’s name is heard often in our home.
After three years, my arms still long to hold that little one. But the place where tears once reigned, now a different emotion resides.
Joy.
Not the feeling of total happiness and “isn’t the world great?” euphoria. But I think the very thing God had in mind to teach me this year. It took reliving past pain and experiencing fresh wounds and faith-shaking questions for me to see that God was and is teaching me what the verb “to enjoy” really means.
It didn’t come as I expected.
But God’s lesson is taking root in my heart.
Because it’s all about God. Not how well I handle my circumstance. Not how much or how little I smile. Not the big exciting good things that are happening in my life or the major tough issues right alongside.
But I’m learning that “enjoy” is all about how to wrap up in and savor His presence in the midst of life’s ups and downs. The heart-pounding thrills. The gut-wrenching grief. The everyday in betweens.
It’s about hanging out in my Heavenly Daddy’s arms and allowing the unanswered questions and longings of my heart to be quieted by His soft whispers of love.
Enjoy is a much quieter word than I’d originally thought.
It’s also a much more powerful one too.
Isn’t it so like God to take something we think we understand and turn it on its head to show us what He knew we needed to learn?
In the novel I just finished today there’s a minor character that plays a major role in my fiction world as much as my real life. He’s based on a real person whose life was a physical picture of joy.
His love for kids.
His passion for sharing Jesus.
His three-year battle with cancer.
One of the things I have my fictional character say that so reminds me of Ken fits well with my musings about what “enjoy” really means.
He talks about how for better or worse, we need to hold on tight to the truth. Because God is still on His throne. And He is good. Always.
My version of my fictional character’s words: Hang on tight. Love deeply. Slip into Jesus’ arms often.
And enjoy.
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Thursday Thirteen
 |
1. A wonderful husband who is my biggest fan 2. Three awesome daughters~ one of which just turned 6 3. Ransomed Dreams is complete and turned in on time!!! 4. An awesome cover the team at Multnomah designed for Ransomed Dreams 5. My husband's participation in designing my cover 6. I love writing again~ Thank You, Lord! 7. I'm almost done with book 2 8. An awesome dinner with my critique partner Meg as thanks for all her help 9. My family's good health 10. My daughters' wonderful horse lessons 11. Beautiful summer days that taste like freedom 12. Cruising in my SC2 with my new James Taylor CD cranked 13. Living my dream and finding moments to actually enjoy it! |
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
The color purple
It never ceases to amaze me that when I get honest before the Lord, He always shows up! ;-) My last blog entry detailing some of the stresses of life and feeling a slight bit like Job opened up some real and painful dialogue with God.
Which at times has left me feeling like Job~ not all my questions answered, but with my hand over my mouth and my heart crying out “You alone are God!” and “You alone are in control!” Add to that a healthy dose of humility in the face of shaking my fist at heaven and questioning His love and goodness.
I’m so glad God doesn’t anger at my questions or shy away from them. He shows up. And in some ways, He does answer.
I’ve gotten a real kick telling my recent story of God showing up because as a writer, if I put this into a fiction novel people would shake their fingers about the implausibility of it all.
No matter. I was there. I saw God and He left an indelible reminder of His grace…in the grape shade of purple…
After my blog post a few Saturdays ago, God stepped in pretty fast to answer one of my immediate needs~ transportation to church. A neighbor of ours~ a little girl we’ve watched grow into an amazing young woman~ heard my husband talking to her mom about car stuff and she offered us her car so we could go to church. I was humbled as we climbed in and then enjoyed being with other believers knowing that God Himself had carried us there with a special wink and a whisper to trust Him.
Then He promptly closed every available or even slightly possible door for our getting another car. But my mother-in-law let us borrow her car on Monday so that my husband could run to his office and gather more work to do at home until God provided a vehicle. God also allowed me to borrow that car to go to a place that’s become a special invitation for refreshment and renewal. I went to the Healing Rooms and the prayer team that prayed with me and over me was so perfectly chosen by God that I cried and felt God release some deep “stuff” in my heart. One thing they challenged me to do after our time together was to ask my husband to pray with me through our house and seek His direction together.
Given that my husband and I have been struggling some with our communication, I wasn’t sure how this would go over. But God had already gone before me ~ why I’m still surprised at this I don’t know~ and my husband was excited about what the prayer team had suggested. That night we spent a very long time praying together and I have to say God opened my eyes even wider to the gift my husband is. He’s a fallible and imperfect human, just like me, who loves God too. He prayed with such power and confidence that I was in awe. God whispered to my heart, “I’ve got this covered too.” And God does. We’re still working at this tough and wonderful journey of marriage, but God showed up there once again and breathed new life, His life, over us.
Then Tuesday we received a call about a possible car. Not really wanting to get my hopes up, I listened to the specifics and agreed it was worth looking into. So my husband called the guy about his Saturn and agreed to meet him. The man with the Saturn also asked my husband to bring our van because his neighbor~ also a mechanic~ works specifically on Town and Country vans. Just like ours.
Much longer story a little shorter… the two mechanics were gifts from God. Both neat guys, they managed to fix our van for under $200 (when our regular mechanic had declared it dying) and tell us that we have 100,000 miles of good life left in my daughters’ favorite car.
Plus, the Saturn was one of the cutest cars we’ve ever considered and the guy sold it to us for exactly what we had to spend. Not only that but he took our very dying Corsica and slashed $200 off the cost of the Saturn. That ~ with a gift from a wonderful co-worker of my husband’s ~ and we were the proud owners of two “new” cars with absolutely no debt.
Can’t forget to mention our Saturn has a sunroof, a kicking stereo system, and leather seats. I feel like a teenager’s dream of summer every time I slide behind the wheel.
Add to that my mouth ulcers are finally gone~ praise God! And I’m loving my writing again. I’m 12 chapters shy of finishing this awesome story that God has given me new eyes for and a new appreciation of what it means to trust Him and leave the results in His hands.
Did I mention the adorable paint job on our “new” Saturn???
It’s the grace shade of purple.
What an awesome God we serve!
Which at times has left me feeling like Job~ not all my questions answered, but with my hand over my mouth and my heart crying out “You alone are God!” and “You alone are in control!” Add to that a healthy dose of humility in the face of shaking my fist at heaven and questioning His love and goodness.
I’m so glad God doesn’t anger at my questions or shy away from them. He shows up. And in some ways, He does answer.
I’ve gotten a real kick telling my recent story of God showing up because as a writer, if I put this into a fiction novel people would shake their fingers about the implausibility of it all.
No matter. I was there. I saw God and He left an indelible reminder of His grace…in the grape shade of purple…
After my blog post a few Saturdays ago, God stepped in pretty fast to answer one of my immediate needs~ transportation to church. A neighbor of ours~ a little girl we’ve watched grow into an amazing young woman~ heard my husband talking to her mom about car stuff and she offered us her car so we could go to church. I was humbled as we climbed in and then enjoyed being with other believers knowing that God Himself had carried us there with a special wink and a whisper to trust Him.
Then He promptly closed every available or even slightly possible door for our getting another car. But my mother-in-law let us borrow her car on Monday so that my husband could run to his office and gather more work to do at home until God provided a vehicle. God also allowed me to borrow that car to go to a place that’s become a special invitation for refreshment and renewal. I went to the Healing Rooms and the prayer team that prayed with me and over me was so perfectly chosen by God that I cried and felt God release some deep “stuff” in my heart. One thing they challenged me to do after our time together was to ask my husband to pray with me through our house and seek His direction together.
Given that my husband and I have been struggling some with our communication, I wasn’t sure how this would go over. But God had already gone before me ~ why I’m still surprised at this I don’t know~ and my husband was excited about what the prayer team had suggested. That night we spent a very long time praying together and I have to say God opened my eyes even wider to the gift my husband is. He’s a fallible and imperfect human, just like me, who loves God too. He prayed with such power and confidence that I was in awe. God whispered to my heart, “I’ve got this covered too.” And God does. We’re still working at this tough and wonderful journey of marriage, but God showed up there once again and breathed new life, His life, over us.
Then Tuesday we received a call about a possible car. Not really wanting to get my hopes up, I listened to the specifics and agreed it was worth looking into. So my husband called the guy about his Saturn and agreed to meet him. The man with the Saturn also asked my husband to bring our van because his neighbor~ also a mechanic~ works specifically on Town and Country vans. Just like ours.
Much longer story a little shorter… the two mechanics were gifts from God. Both neat guys, they managed to fix our van for under $200 (when our regular mechanic had declared it dying) and tell us that we have 100,000 miles of good life left in my daughters’ favorite car.
Plus, the Saturn was one of the cutest cars we’ve ever considered and the guy sold it to us for exactly what we had to spend. Not only that but he took our very dying Corsica and slashed $200 off the cost of the Saturn. That ~ with a gift from a wonderful co-worker of my husband’s ~ and we were the proud owners of two “new” cars with absolutely no debt.
Can’t forget to mention our Saturn has a sunroof, a kicking stereo system, and leather seats. I feel like a teenager’s dream of summer every time I slide behind the wheel.
Add to that my mouth ulcers are finally gone~ praise God! And I’m loving my writing again. I’m 12 chapters shy of finishing this awesome story that God has given me new eyes for and a new appreciation of what it means to trust Him and leave the results in His hands.
Did I mention the adorable paint job on our “new” Saturn???
It’s the grace shade of purple.
What an awesome God we serve!
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Life as I know it
Life has become a real-time study in the book of Job. I don’t say that lightly. Thankfully, the Lord saw fit to skip over the losing my children and my barns part. But the rest? Well, let’s just say it’s still crashing around me.
I don’t know how long Job had to deal with painful sores, unanswered heart cries, and more than painful accusations from friends. But I’m sitting in the dust and asking God some of the same questions. What’s the purpose in all this?
Why was I in the ER twice on my vacation? Why did I miss the one place where I go to rest because the pain was and is again almost unbearable? Why have both our cars died right before we were going to give our daughters a taste of their childhood dreams? Why is my husband’s job at risk because a mysterious injury is causing him so much pain? Why is my marriage still stretched to the breaking point? Why is writing a painful exercise in failure right now? With all the work my husband and I do, why can’t we even afford a basic used car? And why do I hurt so much?
Where are You, God?
Many of these questions have been dogging my heels most of my waking moments for the better part of three years. Some, like the intense physical pain and mysterious injuries, are newer. But the deep questions are the same. God, don’t You care that I hurt? What am I doing wrong that so much bad continues? Where is the healing?
I do know I have tons of blessings to count. I have my precious girls, a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food in my belly. For that I’m richer than I deserve. I know that. But sometimes that doesn’t stop the deep spiritual pain of unanswered questions.
Why doesn’t my mom love me?
Why doesn’t my marriage heal?
Why do I feel like a failure ~ unimportant, unappreciated, unseen?
Last night, after a horrid writing day and an unrelenting deadline looming…with my mouth full of ulcers…life and pain got the best of me and I had a mommy tantrum in front of my family. My eldest and her father sat in as Job’s well-meaning friends with things like, “Maybe God is trying to teach you something.” Yeah, and I keep missing it? How does that help me? I probably would have screamed if they’d asked me about sin in my life and religious-sounding hypotheses about if I’d just pray more or believe more or confess more.
They didn’t have to though. I had already been doing all that to myself.
And I still had no answers. I’ve tried to pray. Asked others to pray. Confessed my complaining, unappreciative attitude and my plethora of other sins as well. Tried to write through it, pray through it, believe through it. And my favorite~ not “stress” through it. Like that’s a simple choice I make and all is better.
Then today God sent me an angel in the form of an email. Don’t laugh. If God can use a burning bush or a talking donkey, He can use email. ;-) This email was from a new friend asking about my writing and a fear we had in common. As I replied to her, I started to cry. Something I haven’t let myself do in a long time. Then I started to write my heart. Something I haven’t done much since I haven’t been blogging like I used to.
And God showed up.
Actually, He had never left. I’d just closed my eyes.
Here’s what I shared with my friend…
She’d asked if I had ever written as a form of therapy. Boxes of journals and pages upon pages of blog posts answer a resounding “yes.” But that’s when I realized I haven’t done the heart writing that used to sear my soul with truth. The writing where God talks back to me and I get it. I see. I miss that. Today, my hurting heart is showing up. And trusting God to speak.
As I started to write in the hopes of encouraging my friend in dealing with a fear of hers, that’s when my tears started to break free. Here’s what God illuminated to my heart…
“For me, I know the fear is about failure. If I do this (write a book or try to work with my husband on some painful issues) and it's awful, then I'm a failure and ultimately not worthy of being loved. Sounds silly when I type it out. But the emotions are the most basic we have and the most powerful desire I think all humans share. To be loved. To be known and respected. To be important, valued. What I'm realizing again as I type ~ for probably the hundredth time ~ is that for me to walk in the truth, I have to believe the truth. I am loved. Whether this book is a failure or not. Whether I flub a talk or not. Whether or not my marriage ever heals. That's the truth I know I've been running from and it took your email for me to listen. Thank you. What I just typed in this paragraph is the core of who I am and what I feel like God has called me to do~ teach the truth about rejecting lies and believing truth. And I was just reminded that my writing is what has given me the most opportunity to do that. To share with you and with others what God is always in the process of doing~ loving us. Teaching us truth. Healing us. Calling us to join Him in His work. To see we were created for a purpose and plan far greater than we could ever ask or imagine.
"This believing lies or truth is so hard to wrap my mind around and so easy it seems to forget. But I think that's one reason God created us to be part of a Body~ to remember. To encourage each other to hang on to the truth when the enemy blasts his fiery darts and they hurt.”
When life hurts. Which, right now, is life as I know it. Life as so many of us know it. Where are God’s healing miracles? Where is God when life hurts?
A lot of the time I feel like the paralytic in John 5 who sat for decades not getting into the pool to receive a healing. When Jesus asked him, "Do you want to get well?” He replied, "Sir, I have no one to help me.”
Or we can add our own version of the words, “But Lord, I hurt too much.” Or “But Lord, I don’t understand.” Or “But Lord, I’m not this, that or the other.” Or mine as of late, “But Lord, I’m terrified of failing.”
Today, I finally looked up as Jesus asked me the same question as the paralytic. “Do you want to get well?” Uhm, yes? At least I know I want to lose the pain and the heartache and make my circumstances feel better.
So Jesus asked again. “Do you want to get well?” And then He extended His hand in the form of an email. When I stopped to listen and look into His face, I felt His answer for me.
The Holy Spirit brought to mind two verses…
2 Timothy 1:8-9 “God has saved us and called us with a holy calling—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time…”
John 6:29 “Jesus answered, ‘The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.’”
I think because I’m so slow to let go of what I want to happen, God added this…His spoken words to my heart.
“Fear not, Amy. I have called you by name. You are Mine.”
God’s healing miracles are working themselves through my heart as I turn to Him and listen.
I still don’t have a car for church tomorrow.
I still have a mouth full of ulcers.
My marriage still has a lot of healing needed.
I still have a looming deadline.
I still live in a painful, fallen world.
Some of my questions remain unanswered.
But I have put my hand in the Hand of the One who made the universe. And I’m standing again. In truth.
I am loved.
He has a purpose and plan for me that’s beyond all I can imagine.
He promises He will complete His work.
And for now, that’s enough for me to walk again. With Him.
I don’t know how long Job had to deal with painful sores, unanswered heart cries, and more than painful accusations from friends. But I’m sitting in the dust and asking God some of the same questions. What’s the purpose in all this?
Why was I in the ER twice on my vacation? Why did I miss the one place where I go to rest because the pain was and is again almost unbearable? Why have both our cars died right before we were going to give our daughters a taste of their childhood dreams? Why is my husband’s job at risk because a mysterious injury is causing him so much pain? Why is my marriage still stretched to the breaking point? Why is writing a painful exercise in failure right now? With all the work my husband and I do, why can’t we even afford a basic used car? And why do I hurt so much?
Where are You, God?
Many of these questions have been dogging my heels most of my waking moments for the better part of three years. Some, like the intense physical pain and mysterious injuries, are newer. But the deep questions are the same. God, don’t You care that I hurt? What am I doing wrong that so much bad continues? Where is the healing?
I do know I have tons of blessings to count. I have my precious girls, a roof over my head, clothes on my back, and food in my belly. For that I’m richer than I deserve. I know that. But sometimes that doesn’t stop the deep spiritual pain of unanswered questions.
Why doesn’t my mom love me?
Why doesn’t my marriage heal?
Why do I feel like a failure ~ unimportant, unappreciated, unseen?
Last night, after a horrid writing day and an unrelenting deadline looming…with my mouth full of ulcers…life and pain got the best of me and I had a mommy tantrum in front of my family. My eldest and her father sat in as Job’s well-meaning friends with things like, “Maybe God is trying to teach you something.” Yeah, and I keep missing it? How does that help me? I probably would have screamed if they’d asked me about sin in my life and religious-sounding hypotheses about if I’d just pray more or believe more or confess more.
They didn’t have to though. I had already been doing all that to myself.
And I still had no answers. I’ve tried to pray. Asked others to pray. Confessed my complaining, unappreciative attitude and my plethora of other sins as well. Tried to write through it, pray through it, believe through it. And my favorite~ not “stress” through it. Like that’s a simple choice I make and all is better.
Then today God sent me an angel in the form of an email. Don’t laugh. If God can use a burning bush or a talking donkey, He can use email. ;-) This email was from a new friend asking about my writing and a fear we had in common. As I replied to her, I started to cry. Something I haven’t let myself do in a long time. Then I started to write my heart. Something I haven’t done much since I haven’t been blogging like I used to.
And God showed up.
Actually, He had never left. I’d just closed my eyes.
Here’s what I shared with my friend…
She’d asked if I had ever written as a form of therapy. Boxes of journals and pages upon pages of blog posts answer a resounding “yes.” But that’s when I realized I haven’t done the heart writing that used to sear my soul with truth. The writing where God talks back to me and I get it. I see. I miss that. Today, my hurting heart is showing up. And trusting God to speak.
As I started to write in the hopes of encouraging my friend in dealing with a fear of hers, that’s when my tears started to break free. Here’s what God illuminated to my heart…
“For me, I know the fear is about failure. If I do this (write a book or try to work with my husband on some painful issues) and it's awful, then I'm a failure and ultimately not worthy of being loved. Sounds silly when I type it out. But the emotions are the most basic we have and the most powerful desire I think all humans share. To be loved. To be known and respected. To be important, valued. What I'm realizing again as I type ~ for probably the hundredth time ~ is that for me to walk in the truth, I have to believe the truth. I am loved. Whether this book is a failure or not. Whether I flub a talk or not. Whether or not my marriage ever heals. That's the truth I know I've been running from and it took your email for me to listen. Thank you. What I just typed in this paragraph is the core of who I am and what I feel like God has called me to do~ teach the truth about rejecting lies and believing truth. And I was just reminded that my writing is what has given me the most opportunity to do that. To share with you and with others what God is always in the process of doing~ loving us. Teaching us truth. Healing us. Calling us to join Him in His work. To see we were created for a purpose and plan far greater than we could ever ask or imagine.
"This believing lies or truth is so hard to wrap my mind around and so easy it seems to forget. But I think that's one reason God created us to be part of a Body~ to remember. To encourage each other to hang on to the truth when the enemy blasts his fiery darts and they hurt.”
When life hurts. Which, right now, is life as I know it. Life as so many of us know it. Where are God’s healing miracles? Where is God when life hurts?
A lot of the time I feel like the paralytic in John 5 who sat for decades not getting into the pool to receive a healing. When Jesus asked him, "Do you want to get well?” He replied, "Sir, I have no one to help me.”
Or we can add our own version of the words, “But Lord, I hurt too much.” Or “But Lord, I don’t understand.” Or “But Lord, I’m not this, that or the other.” Or mine as of late, “But Lord, I’m terrified of failing.”
Today, I finally looked up as Jesus asked me the same question as the paralytic. “Do you want to get well?” Uhm, yes? At least I know I want to lose the pain and the heartache and make my circumstances feel better.
So Jesus asked again. “Do you want to get well?” And then He extended His hand in the form of an email. When I stopped to listen and look into His face, I felt His answer for me.
The Holy Spirit brought to mind two verses…
2 Timothy 1:8-9 “God has saved us and called us with a holy calling—not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This grace was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time…”
John 6:29 “Jesus answered, ‘The work of God is this: to believe in the one he has sent.’”
I think because I’m so slow to let go of what I want to happen, God added this…His spoken words to my heart.
“Fear not, Amy. I have called you by name. You are Mine.”
God’s healing miracles are working themselves through my heart as I turn to Him and listen.
I still don’t have a car for church tomorrow.
I still have a mouth full of ulcers.
My marriage still has a lot of healing needed.
I still have a looming deadline.
I still live in a painful, fallen world.
Some of my questions remain unanswered.
But I have put my hand in the Hand of the One who made the universe. And I’m standing again. In truth.
I am loved.
He has a purpose and plan for me that’s beyond all I can imagine.
He promises He will complete His work.
And for now, that’s enough for me to walk again. With Him.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Happy Memorial Day!
There's a poem I've read a number of years in a row about Memorial Day that never fails to bring tears. I don't know who to give a writing credit to, but as you read, I pray you will remember our Veterans and the men and women who are serving our country right now.
My daddy is a Veteran and proudly served our country. To him and to all the men and women who have served and are serving us well...THANK YOU!
Remember Our Veterans
It is the VETERAN, not the preacher,
who has given us freedom of religion.
It is the VETERAN, not the reporter,
who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the VETERAN, not the poet,
who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the VETERAN, not the campus organizer,
who has given us freedom to assemble.
It is the VETERAN, not the lawyer,
who has given us the right to a fair trial.
It is the VETERAN, not the politician,
Who has given us the right to vote.
It is the VETERAN,
who salutes the Flag,
It is the VETERAN,
who serves under the Flag.
Please remember to pray for our VETERANS today!
My daddy is a Veteran and proudly served our country. To him and to all the men and women who have served and are serving us well...THANK YOU!
Remember Our Veterans
It is the VETERAN, not the preacher,
who has given us freedom of religion.
It is the VETERAN, not the reporter,
who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the VETERAN, not the poet,
who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the VETERAN, not the campus organizer,
who has given us freedom to assemble.
It is the VETERAN, not the lawyer,
who has given us the right to a fair trial.
It is the VETERAN, not the politician,
Who has given us the right to vote.
It is the VETERAN,
who salutes the Flag,
It is the VETERAN,
who serves under the Flag.
Please remember to pray for our VETERANS today!
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