The Unveiling…

Today, this Friday, September 16th, I unveil my new blog with a tribute to an amazing and Grace filled woman of God. She is Joy, in the flesh, and she’ll be going Home soon. Won’t you join me there?

When you are there, be sure to subscribe! :o)

It’s good to be back.

 

Prayer in the Middle

[I interrupt this sabbatical for a message from my Sponsor...]

Tucked into the middle of the swarming hallway of 650 women abuzz, the prayer room. The busy, the chaos, the excitement, the nerves, the information overload, the rushing from hither to yon; the prayer room in the middle.

Informed prior to arrival of the sacred space created special for us, school girl excitement welled up within; anticipation for what the Lord had for me there. Every woman prayed over and her name placed by His. Which of Him might He delight for me to know? Oh how the heart longs to be spoken to.

Shoes removed upon entrance; hallowed ground. Lights dimmed, overstuffed chairs, pillows scattered, candles burning, tissue boxes aplenty, delicate worship music sweetly drapes the air; the bread and the wine. Two tables with His names, 19 of them, with each woman’s name taped around who He is; how He wants her to know Him. Quick scanning each one to find the familiar double k. Nothing. Slow down; read each one slower. He wants to be known. Is He the One who sees me? Is He my Strong Tower? My Provider?

A second round; nothing. 

The mind starts to skitter around and the heart’s hopes begin to sink, they couldn’t have forgotten me. Could they? Should I ask someone? But…must I ask… to be remembered? Forgotten. Disregarded. The anticipation was for this; this right here, that God would have a name for me. Surely He wouldn’t let my name slip by…

A third time names scanned, s.l.o.w.l.y.; special attention to other words on the tables:

SIMPLIFY

BELIEVE

A deep breath in…slowly let out. Heart sinking. Forgotten. Lost in the crowd of so many others remembered.

One more time. It’s here. It has to be here. Slowly, praying desperately through 17 of the 19 and there…tucked in, but not hidden; overlooked by haste:

Jehovah-Rapha

The Lord Who Heals

God has provided the final cure for spiritual, physical and emotional sickness in Jesus Christ.

Tears from deep guttural places well up. Not forgotten. Thank you Jesus, that I’m not forgotten

He speaks more than His name. This,  in a prayer room tucked into the middle of the chaos, forced to slow down to see Him, is where healing begins.

 

Sabbatical

I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but think it’s actually time. Sabbatical; of sorts. A pause.

It has caused me some unease to consider it because I wonder if I’ll lose the few readers I do have. But…that’s one of the reasons I will do it… because I don’t want writing and sharing my heart to be about needing approval and validation. I don’t need an audience to do what I need to do. And what I need to do is write; no fear.

Other reasons for the pause are to find my voice; my real voice. The one that is not afraid. It’s there.

I want to pause so that I may come back refreshed. Renewed. I have plans to re-sculpt my blog… I’ve been all over the place up until now, but I desire focus and some relative form of structure to contain the words that want to pour out; that will pour out. I’m not sure yet what it will look like, but some down time and prayer will provide clarity; I’m certain.

In addition to the pause of writing, at least publicly, I’ll also be taking some much-needed time to take care of myself; my health. I’m going to stop making excuses. My daughter needs a healthy mama. This will require some strength of will and focus.

And…I’ll also be working on fund-raising for my next mission trips. I will be posting a few posts over here, if you’d like to see where I’m going next and keep up with me there. :)

I’m not sure how long I’ll be away…maybe a month or two. I will be reading your blogs and commenting. Y’all keep me inspired and are truly the reason for my being spurred on to the next level. Whatever that level may be. :)

Please stay tuned and if you are a praying folk, I’d be blessed to be held in yours.

I will return. :)

Promise.

Body Image

As I was getting dressed this morning, adorning a black dress with black over shirt with black shoes and black jewelry, I recall a comment made by someone a week or so ago at work,

“Why you wearing all black? You going to a funeral or something?”

And then my mind goes to the multitude of other comments made by various others over time…

“You should really keep your hair long.

“You could light a match with the stubble on your legs.”

“Everyone could stand to lose a few pounds…” in such a manner that was side stepping saying directly that *I* could stand to lose a few pounds.

“Your ankles are HUGE!”

“You’re tummy is looking flatter today…”

“You should really wear make up more often.”

“You always wear ‘safe’ clothes…”

“You’re getting too thin.”

“You’re clothes are fitting a bit snug.”

And…the arsenal of ‘you should’ and ‘your body and appearance don’t measure up’ statements goes on and on and on.

As I ponder these statements, I also recall the LIFETIME of discontent that I’ve had about my body and my appearance. And it suddenly occurs to me that my discontent is a reflection of others’ perceptions about the way my body and appearance should be. It’s ludicrous to think about… like I or anyone has ever had any control over the body that we were born into. Yes, I can control the length of my hair and whether or not I shave my legs and I can to some extent control my weight fluctuation, and I can control the clothes I put on my body… but to be constantly aware of my body and appearance because others find some authority to speak about the condition or state of my appearance according to their own lens at any given moment, is exhausting!

I was talking to my Mom last night and she was bludgeoning herself about her appearance and the weight that she’s gained, and the thought entered my mind,

Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God? 1 Cor 6:19

God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. Gen 1:27

The Creator of the universe also created fat cells and the shapes of our bodies. In His image. Who re-wrote the standard?

Once upon a time, man and woman walked in the garden, naked. Unashamed. Can you image being so free and so unencumbered? What must that be like not to be under the magnifying glass of imperfection and expectation? I so long for that freedom; to be accepted for every single thing that I am, not by all that I am not.

What if the focus was shifted to the attributes we HAVE been gifted with?

“I love your hair!”

“You have pretty eyes.”

“You are beautiful.”

“I love your style.”

“You’re so comfortable to be around.”

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things. Phil 4:8

I’d add to ’think’ about such things with ‘speak’ about such things; not just to others, but about ourselves, as well. No longer is it appropriate for me to shuffle through my closet and berate myself for having a ‘fat’ day. My body is going through a natural and normal hormonal fluctuation that requires a bit more room to accommodate it. So I wear a pretty black dress that is comfortable and accommodates my needs for that day. And if someone has something negative or contrary to say about it, I will reply back with a compliment; “I really like your shirt!” :)

Therefore, let’s keep on pursuing those things that bring peace and that lead to building up one another. Rom 14:19

Oswald Wisdom of the Day

It’s funny really…funny in a really cool, beyond coincidental, awesomely and impeccably timed sorta way… when the thing that’s been looming in my mind is confirmed and validated. :)

I love me some Oswald Chambers.

If your right hand causes you to sin, cut it off and cast it from you; for it is more profitable for you that one of your members perish, than for your whole body to be cast into hell —Matthew 5:30

Jesus did not say that everyone must cut off his right hand, but that “if your right hand causes you to sin” in your walk with Him, then it is better to “cut it off.” There are many things that are perfectly legitimate, but if you are going to concentrate on God you cannot do them. Your right hand is one of the best things you have, but Jesus says that if it hinders you in following His precepts, then “cut it off.” The principle taught here is the strictest discipline or lesson that ever hit humankind.

When God changes you through regeneration, giving you new life through spiritual rebirth, your life initially has the characteristic of being maimed. There are a hundred and one things that you dare not do— things that would be sin for you, and would be recognized as sin by those who really know you. But the unspiritual people around you will say, “What’s so wrong with doing that? How absurd you are!” There has never yet been a saint who has not lived a maimed life initially. Yet it is better to enter into life maimed but lovely in God’s sight than to appear lovely to man’s eyes but lame to God’s. At first, Jesus Christ through His Spirit has to restrain you from doing a great many things that may be perfectly right for everyone else but not right for you. Yet, see that you don’t use your restrictions to criticize someone else.

The Christian life is a maimed life initially, but in Matthew 5:48 Jesus gave us the picture of a perfectly well-rounded life— “You shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect.”

Is there anything you need to ‘cut off’ in order to strengthen your walk with Him?

Shame Off You (Part II)

Spring Term is over and while reviewing my grades something flashes across the screen of my mind…

…an interview I had for a job a few years ago.

The first round of the interview I felt I aced. The gal I’d be supporting (if I’d have gotten the job) and I clicked and I felt very confident that the second round would be equally as fluid. My confidence was shattered about 2.5 milliseconds into that second interview. The train wreck only took about 7 minutes before they sent me on my way. The gentleman I interviewed for the second round immediately placed my intelligence (measured by status and affluence) on the line to justify. What college did you attend? Is that even accredited? What was your G.P.A.? (Really? Who asks for G.P.A. anymore?) Turns out I was no match at all for this companies legal council.  It reminded me of another job I held where all the men I supported came from Ivy League and high status universities and when they asked where I went to college, I told them of the Community College I’d attended with intentions to eventually finish with a Bachelors someday… They all looked at me, paused as the air sucked out of the room, and then changed the subject. I’m not sure what it’s like having been raised with a silver spoon in my mouth and it was clear they had no idea how to conversate with someone from the other side of the tracks.

Is status and intelligence an adequate measure of worth?

I just finished a class that I was able to venture into the subject matter of Shame. I hit a jackpot and with the new information, I’m able to see things now that I couldn’t ever put my finger on before. Like…how completely stupid I felt after leaving that interview…because someone communicated with me in such a way that triggered a shame response. Perhaps he was asking a simple set of questions and it was the only way he knows how to quickly measure someone’s fit for the job, but non-verbal communication is also about 80 something percent of communication. His facial expressions spoke volumes more to my stuttering and stammering answers I was not prepared for the questions of, than the actual questions themselves.

Since this class, I’m coming into a deeper awareness that shame creates shame. Just like my post ‘Hurting People Hurt People’ it is from brokenness that brokenness comes. Being shamed by intelligence may seem trivial or trite compared to the multitudes of other things to be shamed by, but in reflection I wonder if this guy even wanted to be a lawyer. Maybe his Dad was broken and communicated as such by telling his son he wasn’t good enough unless he was a lawyer; or a  doctor. And because he’s angry or bitter enough, a lawyer is a fitting position to effectively scourge people with their words in an effort to substantiate his worth and climb out of the mire of his own feelings of shame. Maybe it was his mom that pushed that on him and any woman who comes into his path he has to put into their place. So…asking about G.P.A. is not something that sounds much like a scourging via words, but for a girl who felt ashamed of having come from the other side of the tracks, who never thought she’d ever go to college because she was poor and of no influence or skill to get a scholarship to begin with, the question implied (at least to me) that my intelligence measured by a number (which to be clear is of no relevance since my G.P.A. is almost 4.0) and the university from whence it came was more of an indicator of my worth than my 14 something years of building my skills to reach this place of ‘status’. However proud I was of having reached this level on a career ladder was completely shattered by a different measure…and a look of complete and utter disdain and repulsion on his face when I was shocked by the question and started to stammer over my words.

Shamed by a measure of intelligence. Because I grew up poor, even as a thirty something, it can still sting when worth is measured by money…and then is reflected on intelligence. I don’t understand the correlation, but it is so very real in our culture and particularly in Corporate America.

I’m so very grateful that there is a standard of measurement far superior than anything man can conjur up here; one that does not shame others in order to puff up or lift up.

Instead, God chose things the world considers foolish in order to shame those who think they are wise. And he chose things that are powerless to shame those who are powerful. 1 Cor 1:27

As the Scripture says, “Anyone who trusts in Him will never be put to shame.” Romans 10:11

As I ponder earthly understood levels of status and intelligence as a measure of worth, I quickly reflect on words I can trust that have been whispered to me that sink deeply into the well of my heart and soul… Ma’am … You’re Worth Far more than Rubies. He’ll never shame me for the earthly ‘treasures’ I have or don’t have. So long as my treasures’ source is of heavenly origination, I will not suffer shame or feel disgrace or humiliation. (Isaiah 54:4) The outide appearance of my life is not the measure, but the inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, that is of great worth… 1Peter 3:4

I Refuse

I was editing wedding photos last night and was overcome a bit by melancholy, the heart-strings of desire and longing for deep connection plucked upon by the radiance of newlyweded blissdom. Those wells of desire run deep and they’re not just attached to the longing for another human to skip through life with; they’re attached to the desire for real love and deep soul connection. I felt myself slipping a bit into pity for all that I don’t have and decided to turn the computer off and call it a night; restart again tomorrow. As I was on my way to my room, I realized that I have a choice in this feeling. And suddenly…I REFUSE! I refuse to give in to a melancholy that robs me of the joy of all that I DO have. I’m not half a person or incomplete or missing out on something because I’m not coupled up yet.

I realized this enemy that lurks…that robs us of joy and replaces it with the blues, feeling dejected, despondent, destroyed, disconsolate, dismal, dispirited, doleful, down and out, down in the dumps, down trodden, downcast, downhearted, dragged, droopy, gloomy, glum, grim, heavyhearted, in a blue funk, joyless, low, low-spirited, mirthless, miserable, moody, moony, mournful, pensive, saddened, somber, sorrowful, sorry, torn up, trite, unhappy, wistful, woebegone, woeful… Isn’t it incredible…the number of feelings and emotions that can replace one – JOY. Why do we feel this way? There are times when these feelings are appropriate and normal – life has a lot of big owies it throws our way. But when it’s about not having something… when we live in a culture that is flooded with commodity and things we MUST HAVE… Will I die without being married again? Probably not. Did my former marriages ’cure’ the deep yearnings in my heart? No. I have plenty of rich delicious relationships and I am not alone. We do need relationship, for sure. We’re hard-wired for it. Is relationship with a daughter less valuable than that of a spouse? Is relationship with a friend less valuable? With parents? Family? Acquaintance? Different, yes…but less valuable? No.

So what do we do when we’re feeling overcome with the swooning sometimes unrelenting unrequited desires of our heart? I’ve decided to just allow myself to feel it. Acknowledge it for what it is and be grateful that I do feel it. It means I’m alive and well and healthy. How often do we do that? Allow ourselves permission to feel. I’ve run away from my feelings for so long because I was so uncomfortable with feeling them, so I tried to distract myself with something in order to dissuade the feeling. I’ve learned that only heightens the agony of it all when the thing I tried to stuff into it didn’t work like I’d hoped; it left me feeling emptier. Then I started to acknowledge the feelings for what they are…yes, I have a very deep hole in my soul that yearns sometimes desperately for deeper connection. I’m human; it’s part of my condition.

He’s placed eternity in the hearts of men (Eph 3:11), which translates to connection with Him. Just as we feel the connection to our biological family because we are connected, we long to be connected to the One who created all things, including ourselves. In our broken world, that connection has been broken and we long for it be reconnected.

No singular person will fill that for me. It has to be filled with more of something else. If I choose to look around and see all that I am richly blessed with, the hole doesn’t feel so big and vast and deep. Joy starts to fill it for the beauty that is in this life. Is a flower less beautiful because it grows in the desert? It’s a choice we have…to focus on what we don’t have, or focus on what we do. If I saw that unbelievably beautiful flower in the desert, would I fail to see it because I am so distracted by the heat of the desert? Or stand in awe that something so beautiful can grow here? It’s the perpetual tension in life we must endure; beauty in the midst of discomfort.

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison 2 Cor 4:17