This summer has been a very trying season for me. Some of this relates to the fact that much of my childhood trauma happened during the summer. I have never had a fondness for this season so a slightly unsettled feeling is common but this is something more. Summer is also family time, picnics, reunions, vacations, weekend outings, barbecues, everything about this season focuses on family. What is it about family that makes me so unsettled?
Maybe it is the fact that it has been almost a year since Kate and the kids left for India, that sad day when a piece of my heart was ripped out and taken far away. That void is still as raw and fresh today as it was the day they left. Even though I have other children and two other beautiful, wonderful grandchildren, I still find myself with holes that a few phone conversations a month and a week or two of face-to-face time doesn’t seem to come close to filling. Worldly solutions, other people or things don’t work.
I am learning that to truly love someone means that forever there will be a place in the heart that only they can fill, specially fitted and designed just for them. The heart expands to allow more people to have a place there in your heart but these new people never replace or fill in the voids left by another’s absence. I believe my lesson in this season is to see that the Father’s love flows into those voids, if I allow it, not to cover up, deny their existence or to fill them with something else but to keep the voids there, to keep that special place reserved and ready, to keep the heart soft and pliable and to keep it from shrinking down to a hard shriveled pile of nothingness.
The tension of this season is continuing to live a full life with a heart that often feels more full of holes than substance rather than live in a constant state of grief and mourning. To love new people even though the risk of another void is a definite outcome when it would be easier to shut oneself off to the possibility of any new relationships and protect oneself from any new holes. To remain in relationship with the people who are absent, to allow them back into the void, even if it is only for a brief encounter, a phone call or occasional visit, instead of closing oneself off from them and eliminating any possibility of further pain. To allow the Father’s love, His grace and peace to flow in and fill every gap and crack and to choose to live with hope and joy, with the faith that He will never leave, that He came to fill hearts, to keep them soft and pliable. I have learned that God never promised to keep all holes and voids out of our hearts, but He did promise to always fill us so that we can continue on our walk. He never meant for us to deal with those holes on our own, with our own strength, power or ability. That is His job and He is so much better suited for it, if we will only let Him.
The holes I carry with me may never again be filled with those special people in which they were created but my life is becoming a living testimony that one can continue to grow and thrive when one allows God to be the thing that fills our heart, holes and all.
What holes or voids to do you have in your heart? With what have you filled them? Maybe it is time to let God in. Take it from someone who has tried a lot of other ways, He is the only way that works.
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
New wine in old wineskins
“Nor do people put new wine into old wineskins; otherwise the wineskins burst, and the wine pours out and the wineskins are ruined; but they put new wine into fresh wineskins, and both are preserved.” (Matt. 9:17)
I love word pictures, don’t you? The parables are amazing teaching tools and allow complex concepts and new ideas to be presented in a manner that even the young or uneducated can understand. I was amazed and overwhelmed that this word picture given so long ago by Jesus to His disciples about the resistance He was encountering from the scribes and Pharisees could bring such clarity to an entirely different situation in my own life.
When I was struggling to deal with the issues from my childhood, frustrated by the tediousness of the process and the snail’s pace it felt I was moving, discouraged by the lack of progress, tired from the pain, totally depleted and drained, all these feelings made sense in light of the work I was doing to clean out the debris packed in my heart. Now on the other side of this, being out of the pit, feet firmly planted above ground, heart expanded and full of truth, these same feelings take me by surprise. What am I supposed to do with frustration, disappointment, depletion, discouragement? After everything I have been through and the freedom I have found, why are these feelings still hanging around and will they be part of me forever? Life out of the pit shouldn’t include these feelings, should it? I thought the whole idea of going through all that pain and suffering to climb out was to rid myself of those feelings, was it all for naught?
This teaching by Jesus about new wine in old wineskins was an “aha” moment and I immediately saw my internal struggle and where these feelings were coming from. My new heart full of truth and promise is the new wine. My life and circumstances are the old wineskin. Even though I have been remodeled from the inside out, I am still residing in the same life as before. I am different but the situation isn’t. I am still married to the same man, have the same parents, siblings, children and grandchildren and still live in the same place. My formal education level didn’t increase because of my struggle to be free, no initials were added after my name to reflect this newly attained status (Lori Dumler, FCNF, Former Captive Now Free). Living above ground hasn’t instantly given me a mindful of dreams and aspirations or a direction for my future. Certain areas of my life have actually been harmed by my years in the pit and the struggle to be freed, my career or lack of it, my bank balance, my health, my prospects of ever figuring out what I want to be when I grow up and then living long enough to achieve it.
Now that I am free and have endless possibilities in front of me, I must now choose what to do with this new freedom and which possibilities to pursue. Part of me embraces this freedom. Another part is terrified by it. The part of me where dreams, desires, and playing were supposed to be nurtured, grow and bloom has been dead for so long and has only recently come back to life that I’m not sure how to do any of these things. I can encourage others to do them but never had the chance or learned to do them for myself. My kids and I have had many conversations recently on being too old to learn to play. Most days I think that goes for dreaming too.
What do I do with this new freedom and all the choices? How much elasticity and stretch can I get out of my old wineskin? At this point in my life, are my dreams and desires constrained by what will fit in the old wineskin? Or am I allowed to put some of my life into a new wineskin and, if so, which parts?
As I read back over what I have written, I see the cause of my frustration and the struggle I am having with my old wineskin. I am looking at this through my old eyes, the eyes that can only see the circumstances and the outcomes that I am able to manipulate or control. My heart has been remodeled but my eyes still wander to myself, me, my circumstances, me, me, me!! I have taken my eyes off the One who is really in control, the One who was able to soften up this hard bitter heart and restore it to a new heart, the God of the impossible. I see that I am not only struggling with the confinement of the old, stiff wineskin, I have brought Him in there with me and constrained Him by my circumstances, given up hope that He can or will do anything about them, and in the process I have become resentful that I am not getting what I feel I deserve. I am not so different from Peter when he wanted to walk on water. He had enough faith to start walking but when Peter noticed his circumstances and focused on them, he began to sink. (Matt. 14: 28-31) Our hearts are good but our eyes, when they switch from focusing on Jesus to our circumstances, lead us into doubt and confusion.
If God could change my heart, do I believe He could do the same thing with the circumstances of my life, my old wineskin, and give me the grace and peace I need to deal with the things that can’t be changed? Of course I do. I also believe He will do that as soon as I turn my gaze back on Him instead of focusing on myself and the things that are constraining me. If God did such an amazing work in me, what can He do with my circumstances if I will only give him the chance? My circumstances instead of being a stumbling block are now an opportunity for God to move and for His glory to be revealed in another area of my life. The possibilities are endless, my choices are limited only by my ability to dream them. If He can empower Peter to walk on water, He can certainly teach me to play and dream if I will only ask Him.
I love word pictures, don’t you? The parables are amazing teaching tools and allow complex concepts and new ideas to be presented in a manner that even the young or uneducated can understand. I was amazed and overwhelmed that this word picture given so long ago by Jesus to His disciples about the resistance He was encountering from the scribes and Pharisees could bring such clarity to an entirely different situation in my own life.
When I was struggling to deal with the issues from my childhood, frustrated by the tediousness of the process and the snail’s pace it felt I was moving, discouraged by the lack of progress, tired from the pain, totally depleted and drained, all these feelings made sense in light of the work I was doing to clean out the debris packed in my heart. Now on the other side of this, being out of the pit, feet firmly planted above ground, heart expanded and full of truth, these same feelings take me by surprise. What am I supposed to do with frustration, disappointment, depletion, discouragement? After everything I have been through and the freedom I have found, why are these feelings still hanging around and will they be part of me forever? Life out of the pit shouldn’t include these feelings, should it? I thought the whole idea of going through all that pain and suffering to climb out was to rid myself of those feelings, was it all for naught?
This teaching by Jesus about new wine in old wineskins was an “aha” moment and I immediately saw my internal struggle and where these feelings were coming from. My new heart full of truth and promise is the new wine. My life and circumstances are the old wineskin. Even though I have been remodeled from the inside out, I am still residing in the same life as before. I am different but the situation isn’t. I am still married to the same man, have the same parents, siblings, children and grandchildren and still live in the same place. My formal education level didn’t increase because of my struggle to be free, no initials were added after my name to reflect this newly attained status (Lori Dumler, FCNF, Former Captive Now Free). Living above ground hasn’t instantly given me a mindful of dreams and aspirations or a direction for my future. Certain areas of my life have actually been harmed by my years in the pit and the struggle to be freed, my career or lack of it, my bank balance, my health, my prospects of ever figuring out what I want to be when I grow up and then living long enough to achieve it.
Now that I am free and have endless possibilities in front of me, I must now choose what to do with this new freedom and which possibilities to pursue. Part of me embraces this freedom. Another part is terrified by it. The part of me where dreams, desires, and playing were supposed to be nurtured, grow and bloom has been dead for so long and has only recently come back to life that I’m not sure how to do any of these things. I can encourage others to do them but never had the chance or learned to do them for myself. My kids and I have had many conversations recently on being too old to learn to play. Most days I think that goes for dreaming too.
What do I do with this new freedom and all the choices? How much elasticity and stretch can I get out of my old wineskin? At this point in my life, are my dreams and desires constrained by what will fit in the old wineskin? Or am I allowed to put some of my life into a new wineskin and, if so, which parts?
As I read back over what I have written, I see the cause of my frustration and the struggle I am having with my old wineskin. I am looking at this through my old eyes, the eyes that can only see the circumstances and the outcomes that I am able to manipulate or control. My heart has been remodeled but my eyes still wander to myself, me, my circumstances, me, me, me!! I have taken my eyes off the One who is really in control, the One who was able to soften up this hard bitter heart and restore it to a new heart, the God of the impossible. I see that I am not only struggling with the confinement of the old, stiff wineskin, I have brought Him in there with me and constrained Him by my circumstances, given up hope that He can or will do anything about them, and in the process I have become resentful that I am not getting what I feel I deserve. I am not so different from Peter when he wanted to walk on water. He had enough faith to start walking but when Peter noticed his circumstances and focused on them, he began to sink. (Matt. 14: 28-31) Our hearts are good but our eyes, when they switch from focusing on Jesus to our circumstances, lead us into doubt and confusion.
If God could change my heart, do I believe He could do the same thing with the circumstances of my life, my old wineskin, and give me the grace and peace I need to deal with the things that can’t be changed? Of course I do. I also believe He will do that as soon as I turn my gaze back on Him instead of focusing on myself and the things that are constraining me. If God did such an amazing work in me, what can He do with my circumstances if I will only give him the chance? My circumstances instead of being a stumbling block are now an opportunity for God to move and for His glory to be revealed in another area of my life. The possibilities are endless, my choices are limited only by my ability to dream them. If He can empower Peter to walk on water, He can certainly teach me to play and dream if I will only ask Him.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
My Own Shack
One of my favorite books of all times is “The Shack” by Paul Young. It is about a man who returned to the place where his “great sadness” began and what and who he finds while he is there. I returned recently to my own shack and “great sadness”, the place where childhood innocence was sacrificed for perversions, lies became truth, dreams died without ever being given a chance, guilt and shame were born, and coping patterns were adopted that insured survival but would later lead down a path so dark and fearful that death seemed like a better alternative. The trip back to this place held an element of anticipation, to finally have it behind me, to face the place where so much damage and pain happened as a child. Even though I was returning as an adult and I knew this place held no more danger for me, I wasn’t sure how I would react or feel. The one thing I had learned by experience was when one turns to face the past the fear and pain are as real and frightening this second time as they were the first time. This was the last piece in the process of healing and by returning and facing this place and the memories I could finally untie them and let them fall away, once and for all. I was ready to take the risk, to finally be loosened from this place that once held me captive to so much darkness and pain.
It would be a lie to say I went there absolutely fearless. Along with the feeling of anticipation for the freedom this trip would bring was a slight feeling of dread and apprehension. The “what ifs” began running through my head as we boarded the plane and started the journey back. What if I wasn’t as healed from my past as I thought I was? What if I relapsed and the voices, nightmares, and panic attacks started again? What if I had to go through all that again? What if I couldn’t do it this time? My restoration seemed so apparent and my life was finally starting to feel like living instead of merely survival while I was one thousand miles away but would it feel the same at ground zero? In spite of this doubt and fear, I knew that it was time to return and face whatever it was I found back there if I truly wanted to be free.
The setting for my “great sadness” is a small Midwestern town, once a booming oil town where money flowed as freely as the oil, but now stands as a victim of dwindling oil reserves and falling oil prices that left it a mere shell of it’s once former glory. The main streets that were once lined with expensive clothing, jewelry and furniture stores, car dealerships and banks are now mostly empty buildings with ugly, bare windows and old, faded signs. The few businesses in town that seem to be surviving are flower stores and mortuaries. Empty, abandoned houses are noticeable everywhere one drives. Neighborhoods that were once filled with families are quiet. A few new homes have been built but look eerily out of place next to the neglected and run down houses in the surrounding areas. The town appears to be more dead than alive but one gets the feeling that the remaining people don’t know where else to go so they stay. I’m not sure if it is my bad memories from this place or if this place really does have a sense of sadness about it that I never felt before. Did I bring the sadness with me or was it always there?
The exact site of much of my childhood wounding is on a quiet side street, much like most of the other neighborhoods in the town. The house was much different though than I remembered it. It was much smaller than I had realized. The outside now was rundown, paint peeling, wood exposed. The yard was overgrown with tall weeds and grass. The flower gardens were neglected and full of weeds. It wasn’t shrouded in mist or covered by creepy veins like one sees in horror movies but as a child it felt like it should have been. Even though it wasn’t the creepy castle from a horror movie, this place, now in a state of disrepair and neglect had an aura of ugliness about it that seemed more fitting to my memories of what had transpired under that roof so many years ago. To me it was a place of such pain and feelings of abandonment and betrayal that those memories were locked away for over forty years, left in the darkness of my heart to imprison me and alter the course of my life. The outside of the house now mirrored the ugliness of what had happened inside, the façade was gone. The lies were exposed.
At first, my return to this place felt very stifling to my newly opened, expanded heart. It felt like trying to stuff a size 20 body into a size 2 pair of jeans. I felt such a pressure to compress my heart, to accept the lies, to let the darkness back in, to undo all that God and I had done together over the last few years so that it would fit neatly and tidily into that tiny, hard, deadening box that it resided in since my earliest childhood memories. Although I have been told by so many people who know me, that my fresh, new, expanded heart is so evident and I am so different, it was not acknowledged or even noticed by those who have known me the longest. As I write the word “known”, I see the problem. Had they really “known” ME? Or did they only see the person they needed me to be, the one they shaped me to be, the quiet child, the good student, the keeper of family secrets, an avoider of all conflicts who never brought anything like that home, a child that demanded nothing and expected even less and never dared to hope for more. I could see there was no place in that world and still wasn’t, for the person I really am, for my needs, dreams, desires. Those feelings of being worthless, unloved, unlovable, unprotected were not born out of the vain imaginings of a child but were the reality of my life as a child. Even though I had found the truth and it had set me free, I was standing in the center of the same lies. I had changed but they hadn’t. What would I do with this?
Fortunately for me, the Jesus who pursued me relentlessly for years, following me as I moved from coast to coast, ran down so many dark and thorny paths full of detours and dead ends and finally loving me enough to let me break into a thousand little pieces when I couldn’t run any more, gave me the Truth. I was deeply loved, even cherished, that I always had been and always would be but not because of what I did but because of who I was, a daughter of the King of Kings. I was the much loved child of my Heavenly Father, Abba. I couldn’t buy His love, couldn’t earn it and couldn’t change it. I had always been a much loved Daughter and He had always been my Father, even during the darkest days of my childhood, only the lies and sin, both mine and of others, clouded and distorted that truth and kept me from seeing it. Jesus used that truth and with His gentle healing hands restored me and shaped me into the woman I was created to be. That new woman was standing now on the threshold of a decision, to resist the pressure and fight the lies and deception or to once again accept the lies as truth and let her heart shrivel up until it fit in that tiny, little, dead box that was born in this place of darkness.
It would have made a better story to say I wrestled with this choice, struggled with the decision for days, travailed in anguish about it but it wasn’t like that. It didn’t take me long at all to realize and acknowledge once again that I was free and that what Jesus has set free is free indeed! I didn’t need to accept those lies, let my heart shrivel up, become the person I used to be just because I was in that place. Just because the place hadn’t changed didn’t mean I couldn’t. That freedom I had found in Oregon extended all the way back to this place and especially in this place. It was mine I didn’t have to give it up, not even here, at the place of my “great sadness”. It now belonged to me to take with me wherever I went. I realized it was up to me to stand my ground, not compromise, and to allow my heart to stay open and soft, full of dreams and desires with complete trust that Truth wins in the end, He already had. Jesus paid a heavy price for that freedom but He once again reminded me that the choice was always mine, had always been mine and would continue to be. That day I chose to walk in Truth everywhere I go, especially when I return to places of darkness and lies. The last tie to my broken past had been loosed and it fell away…..once and for all.
It would be a lie to say I went there absolutely fearless. Along with the feeling of anticipation for the freedom this trip would bring was a slight feeling of dread and apprehension. The “what ifs” began running through my head as we boarded the plane and started the journey back. What if I wasn’t as healed from my past as I thought I was? What if I relapsed and the voices, nightmares, and panic attacks started again? What if I had to go through all that again? What if I couldn’t do it this time? My restoration seemed so apparent and my life was finally starting to feel like living instead of merely survival while I was one thousand miles away but would it feel the same at ground zero? In spite of this doubt and fear, I knew that it was time to return and face whatever it was I found back there if I truly wanted to be free.
The setting for my “great sadness” is a small Midwestern town, once a booming oil town where money flowed as freely as the oil, but now stands as a victim of dwindling oil reserves and falling oil prices that left it a mere shell of it’s once former glory. The main streets that were once lined with expensive clothing, jewelry and furniture stores, car dealerships and banks are now mostly empty buildings with ugly, bare windows and old, faded signs. The few businesses in town that seem to be surviving are flower stores and mortuaries. Empty, abandoned houses are noticeable everywhere one drives. Neighborhoods that were once filled with families are quiet. A few new homes have been built but look eerily out of place next to the neglected and run down houses in the surrounding areas. The town appears to be more dead than alive but one gets the feeling that the remaining people don’t know where else to go so they stay. I’m not sure if it is my bad memories from this place or if this place really does have a sense of sadness about it that I never felt before. Did I bring the sadness with me or was it always there?
The exact site of much of my childhood wounding is on a quiet side street, much like most of the other neighborhoods in the town. The house was much different though than I remembered it. It was much smaller than I had realized. The outside now was rundown, paint peeling, wood exposed. The yard was overgrown with tall weeds and grass. The flower gardens were neglected and full of weeds. It wasn’t shrouded in mist or covered by creepy veins like one sees in horror movies but as a child it felt like it should have been. Even though it wasn’t the creepy castle from a horror movie, this place, now in a state of disrepair and neglect had an aura of ugliness about it that seemed more fitting to my memories of what had transpired under that roof so many years ago. To me it was a place of such pain and feelings of abandonment and betrayal that those memories were locked away for over forty years, left in the darkness of my heart to imprison me and alter the course of my life. The outside of the house now mirrored the ugliness of what had happened inside, the façade was gone. The lies were exposed.
At first, my return to this place felt very stifling to my newly opened, expanded heart. It felt like trying to stuff a size 20 body into a size 2 pair of jeans. I felt such a pressure to compress my heart, to accept the lies, to let the darkness back in, to undo all that God and I had done together over the last few years so that it would fit neatly and tidily into that tiny, hard, deadening box that it resided in since my earliest childhood memories. Although I have been told by so many people who know me, that my fresh, new, expanded heart is so evident and I am so different, it was not acknowledged or even noticed by those who have known me the longest. As I write the word “known”, I see the problem. Had they really “known” ME? Or did they only see the person they needed me to be, the one they shaped me to be, the quiet child, the good student, the keeper of family secrets, an avoider of all conflicts who never brought anything like that home, a child that demanded nothing and expected even less and never dared to hope for more. I could see there was no place in that world and still wasn’t, for the person I really am, for my needs, dreams, desires. Those feelings of being worthless, unloved, unlovable, unprotected were not born out of the vain imaginings of a child but were the reality of my life as a child. Even though I had found the truth and it had set me free, I was standing in the center of the same lies. I had changed but they hadn’t. What would I do with this?
Fortunately for me, the Jesus who pursued me relentlessly for years, following me as I moved from coast to coast, ran down so many dark and thorny paths full of detours and dead ends and finally loving me enough to let me break into a thousand little pieces when I couldn’t run any more, gave me the Truth. I was deeply loved, even cherished, that I always had been and always would be but not because of what I did but because of who I was, a daughter of the King of Kings. I was the much loved child of my Heavenly Father, Abba. I couldn’t buy His love, couldn’t earn it and couldn’t change it. I had always been a much loved Daughter and He had always been my Father, even during the darkest days of my childhood, only the lies and sin, both mine and of others, clouded and distorted that truth and kept me from seeing it. Jesus used that truth and with His gentle healing hands restored me and shaped me into the woman I was created to be. That new woman was standing now on the threshold of a decision, to resist the pressure and fight the lies and deception or to once again accept the lies as truth and let her heart shrivel up until it fit in that tiny, little, dead box that was born in this place of darkness.
It would have made a better story to say I wrestled with this choice, struggled with the decision for days, travailed in anguish about it but it wasn’t like that. It didn’t take me long at all to realize and acknowledge once again that I was free and that what Jesus has set free is free indeed! I didn’t need to accept those lies, let my heart shrivel up, become the person I used to be just because I was in that place. Just because the place hadn’t changed didn’t mean I couldn’t. That freedom I had found in Oregon extended all the way back to this place and especially in this place. It was mine I didn’t have to give it up, not even here, at the place of my “great sadness”. It now belonged to me to take with me wherever I went. I realized it was up to me to stand my ground, not compromise, and to allow my heart to stay open and soft, full of dreams and desires with complete trust that Truth wins in the end, He already had. Jesus paid a heavy price for that freedom but He once again reminded me that the choice was always mine, had always been mine and would continue to be. That day I chose to walk in Truth everywhere I go, especially when I return to places of darkness and lies. The last tie to my broken past had been loosed and it fell away…..once and for all.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Stepping onto His stage
Childhood abuse… sex trafficking…same sex marriages…legal abortions…cloning… financial crisis…unemployment…homelessness…divorce…worldwide terrorism…
Where is God? Has He forgotten us? Why does He allow this evil, chaos, and sin? Doesn’t He care?
God created all things and reigns over His kingdom. This is truth. The earth is full of sin and becoming more evil and depraved daily. This is also truth. Our confusion comes when we forget who is controlling the kingdom of earth where this sin and violence is occurring. Until the fullness of time when God sends Jesus back to claim His bride and reclaims the earth, He promises not to interfere with our freewill or to alter His plan of salvation for His children. We live in a world ruled by powers of darkness. Is it any wonder then that in our day the darkness is increasing?
God has the power to stop all this with a mere breath if He desired but He has a different plan with different purposes. Out of His overwhelming love for us and His ultimate desire that all would come to a saving knowledge of Him, God chooses to work through His children, flawed and imperfect as we are, allowing us the opportunity to see and experience His power and might, His love and compassion, His justice and mercy as we call upon and allow Him to enter into the confusion and pain of this earth. He allows us to “taste and see” the Kingdom of God while here on earth. God chooses to use our hands and feet, our voices, our prayers, even our doubts, limitations, and failings to break bonds, set captives free, heal, restore and save His children living in this dark, sin filled world.
God’s story is a grand narrative of love and redemption. It is a story of the relentless pursuit of a father for prodigal, rebellious children and the unbridled passion and longing of a bridegroom for his bride. The story of God and His Kingdom began before time as we know it and will continue into eternity. If we are believers we should not be sitting in the audience watching this epic unfold before our eyes, full of fear and confusion about the turn the story has taken as is the rest of the audience. We know how the story ends and who claims the final victory. As believers, we are called to be performers on the stage and to step out of the audience and onto the stage, into the pain and darkness unfolding around us, not as victims but as victors. God asks us, but never forces us, to take this step into His story, to claim the unique part He created for us before we were born. He asks us to accept His invitation to experience His Kingdom here on earth, to witness and participate in miracles, to be instruments used for freedom, to apply salve used for comfort, to do the impossible. He draws and woos us with His love and compassion to step onto the stage and accept our role.
There is no small part in His story and no prior experience is required, only a willing heart, an obedient spirit and ears to hear the voice of the Great Director. No one needs to fear or question their ability to perform since all personal strengths and abilities are left behind as we step onto the stage. One need not fear that they will forget their lines or ruin the plot because the Director is more concerned with the willingness to perform than the actual performance and can use even the most flawed or feeble attempt to bear fruit for His Kingdom. It is a grand story, His story, always about Him, never about us.
The Kingdom of God was before time, is here on earth now if we are willing to step into it, and will continue on forever, long after we are gone. The characters will change, the setting and background may vary, but the story line remains the same. That is God’s promise to us and His word is true. Maybe instead of asking “Where is God?” we should be asking ourselves “Where are we?” Are we seated comfortably in the audience watching the drama unfold around us or are we on the stage, engaging the darkness, and living out the role for which we were created?
Join me on the stage, anyone?
Where is God? Has He forgotten us? Why does He allow this evil, chaos, and sin? Doesn’t He care?
God created all things and reigns over His kingdom. This is truth. The earth is full of sin and becoming more evil and depraved daily. This is also truth. Our confusion comes when we forget who is controlling the kingdom of earth where this sin and violence is occurring. Until the fullness of time when God sends Jesus back to claim His bride and reclaims the earth, He promises not to interfere with our freewill or to alter His plan of salvation for His children. We live in a world ruled by powers of darkness. Is it any wonder then that in our day the darkness is increasing?
God has the power to stop all this with a mere breath if He desired but He has a different plan with different purposes. Out of His overwhelming love for us and His ultimate desire that all would come to a saving knowledge of Him, God chooses to work through His children, flawed and imperfect as we are, allowing us the opportunity to see and experience His power and might, His love and compassion, His justice and mercy as we call upon and allow Him to enter into the confusion and pain of this earth. He allows us to “taste and see” the Kingdom of God while here on earth. God chooses to use our hands and feet, our voices, our prayers, even our doubts, limitations, and failings to break bonds, set captives free, heal, restore and save His children living in this dark, sin filled world.
God’s story is a grand narrative of love and redemption. It is a story of the relentless pursuit of a father for prodigal, rebellious children and the unbridled passion and longing of a bridegroom for his bride. The story of God and His Kingdom began before time as we know it and will continue into eternity. If we are believers we should not be sitting in the audience watching this epic unfold before our eyes, full of fear and confusion about the turn the story has taken as is the rest of the audience. We know how the story ends and who claims the final victory. As believers, we are called to be performers on the stage and to step out of the audience and onto the stage, into the pain and darkness unfolding around us, not as victims but as victors. God asks us, but never forces us, to take this step into His story, to claim the unique part He created for us before we were born. He asks us to accept His invitation to experience His Kingdom here on earth, to witness and participate in miracles, to be instruments used for freedom, to apply salve used for comfort, to do the impossible. He draws and woos us with His love and compassion to step onto the stage and accept our role.
There is no small part in His story and no prior experience is required, only a willing heart, an obedient spirit and ears to hear the voice of the Great Director. No one needs to fear or question their ability to perform since all personal strengths and abilities are left behind as we step onto the stage. One need not fear that they will forget their lines or ruin the plot because the Director is more concerned with the willingness to perform than the actual performance and can use even the most flawed or feeble attempt to bear fruit for His Kingdom. It is a grand story, His story, always about Him, never about us.
The Kingdom of God was before time, is here on earth now if we are willing to step into it, and will continue on forever, long after we are gone. The characters will change, the setting and background may vary, but the story line remains the same. That is God’s promise to us and His word is true. Maybe instead of asking “Where is God?” we should be asking ourselves “Where are we?” Are we seated comfortably in the audience watching the drama unfold around us or are we on the stage, engaging the darkness, and living out the role for which we were created?
Join me on the stage, anyone?
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Happy Anniversary?
It was one year ago today that the memory of my childhood sexual abuse surfaced and along with it the realization of what my childhood had actually been like. That day was the start of a long, slow crawl out of a very dark, depressing pit I had lived in for most of my life. I must admit to being a little confused as to how to treat this day. Do I mourn? Do I celebrate? I think what God wants me to do is a little of both.
What am I mourning on this day? I am grieving the loss of innocence that was taken away at a very early age. I am remembering the death of my childlike faith in a safe and nurturing world. I am feeling the hole that was created by the lack of protection and my loss of any sense of security. I am missing the memories of being cared for, cherished, and protected by people who love me. I am saddened by the feelings of fear, utter hopelessness and helplessness that are more a part of my childhood than any feelings of laughter, joy, and hope for the future. I am mourning for the life I could have had, the dreams I could have fulfilled, the joy and laughter I could have experienced had my past been different.
I don’t like to spend much time on these types of remembrances. My days out of the pit are far fewer than my days living in there. The lure of the pit becomes very tempting when I focus on the damage done, what lies were planted in my heart, and the experiences of my life that were distorted and corrupted, and the other people’s lives who were affected by my wounding. I begin to think about things like what it must feel like to be safe, deeply loved, and protected as a child and realize that I will never know those feelings. I ponder what it might have been like to marry for the right reasons instead of out of panic and despair and as a means of escaping an overwhelming situation. I can only guess at what raising children might have been like if I had not turned off my ability to feel so many years ago. How much did the selfish perverted acts of my uncle, the denial and the absence of adequate nurturing and protection by my parents cost me, my husband, my children and even my grandchildren? This is one of those questions for which I will never have an answer. I drive myself crazy with the “what ifs” when I allow these thoughts to creep into my head. God has shown me that I will never have a suitable answer for these questions this side of heaven and the only way to handle them is to give them to Him. He knows there isn’t an answer that will satisfy a wounded heart but He has shown me that He can satisfy my heart which makes the answer to those questions no longer important.
So much for the mourning on this day, what am I celebrating? I am celebrating true freedom from chains and bondage that were as real to me as any prison walls or bars. I am celebrating the change in my heart and my ability to feel all feelings, joy and pain. Yes, I am celebrating being able to feel pain because now the feelings of pain are appropriate to the wound or hurt and not distorted or magnified by lies and past damage. I am celebrating hope and the possibility of a victorious, abundant life and the awakening of a calling in my life to tell my story to other wounded people who are looking for a way out of their pit. Most of all, I am celebrating the knowledge of being a deeply loved and cherished daughter of the King of Kings. By facing and walking through the wounds of my past, I have been able to find my Savior and make Him my Lord. My life will never be the same. I guess I may even be celebrating the wound and the path I walked with my Savior to rescue and restore the damaged, overwhelmed, emotionally dead little girl that I had locked away so many years ago. Would I have found my way to Jesus without this wounding? I’m not sure but I do know that because of it, I did find Him and for that I will be eternally thankful. I can’t explain this and I won’t even try because I have learned that God’s way often don’t and never have to make sense. He is God and we’re not and that is enough for me.
What am I mourning on this day? I am grieving the loss of innocence that was taken away at a very early age. I am remembering the death of my childlike faith in a safe and nurturing world. I am feeling the hole that was created by the lack of protection and my loss of any sense of security. I am missing the memories of being cared for, cherished, and protected by people who love me. I am saddened by the feelings of fear, utter hopelessness and helplessness that are more a part of my childhood than any feelings of laughter, joy, and hope for the future. I am mourning for the life I could have had, the dreams I could have fulfilled, the joy and laughter I could have experienced had my past been different.
I don’t like to spend much time on these types of remembrances. My days out of the pit are far fewer than my days living in there. The lure of the pit becomes very tempting when I focus on the damage done, what lies were planted in my heart, and the experiences of my life that were distorted and corrupted, and the other people’s lives who were affected by my wounding. I begin to think about things like what it must feel like to be safe, deeply loved, and protected as a child and realize that I will never know those feelings. I ponder what it might have been like to marry for the right reasons instead of out of panic and despair and as a means of escaping an overwhelming situation. I can only guess at what raising children might have been like if I had not turned off my ability to feel so many years ago. How much did the selfish perverted acts of my uncle, the denial and the absence of adequate nurturing and protection by my parents cost me, my husband, my children and even my grandchildren? This is one of those questions for which I will never have an answer. I drive myself crazy with the “what ifs” when I allow these thoughts to creep into my head. God has shown me that I will never have a suitable answer for these questions this side of heaven and the only way to handle them is to give them to Him. He knows there isn’t an answer that will satisfy a wounded heart but He has shown me that He can satisfy my heart which makes the answer to those questions no longer important.
So much for the mourning on this day, what am I celebrating? I am celebrating true freedom from chains and bondage that were as real to me as any prison walls or bars. I am celebrating the change in my heart and my ability to feel all feelings, joy and pain. Yes, I am celebrating being able to feel pain because now the feelings of pain are appropriate to the wound or hurt and not distorted or magnified by lies and past damage. I am celebrating hope and the possibility of a victorious, abundant life and the awakening of a calling in my life to tell my story to other wounded people who are looking for a way out of their pit. Most of all, I am celebrating the knowledge of being a deeply loved and cherished daughter of the King of Kings. By facing and walking through the wounds of my past, I have been able to find my Savior and make Him my Lord. My life will never be the same. I guess I may even be celebrating the wound and the path I walked with my Savior to rescue and restore the damaged, overwhelmed, emotionally dead little girl that I had locked away so many years ago. Would I have found my way to Jesus without this wounding? I’m not sure but I do know that because of it, I did find Him and for that I will be eternally thankful. I can’t explain this and I won’t even try because I have learned that God’s way often don’t and never have to make sense. He is God and we’re not and that is enough for me.
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
What I learned about sin from potato chips
I recently had the privilege of spending ten days with my husband in Hawaii. It was a great trip in many ways but in some ways it was one of the hardest trips I have ever done, even harder than the three mission trips to third world countries. It was great because I was able to wear a two piece swimming suit with my stomach showing for the first time in more years than I can count. The low carb diet, diabetic medicines and insulin have melted off enough weight that I can be an “uncovered”. You might be wondering what an “uncovered” is so I will explain. When my daughters and I went to Cabo for my fiftieth birthday we stayed at a resort that was pretty much a party resort. We classified the people there as either “uncovereds” meaning they wore tiny string bikinis with almost nothing left to the imagination or they were “covereds” like us who wore suits that showed no more skin than necessary. Actually in Hawaii I was only a semi-uncovered since my two piece suit still left a lot of skin covered but at least my stomach did see some sun! I guess that counts.
The hard part about this trip was the same thing that made it possible for me to become an “uncovered”, the low carb diet. Have you ever gone to a tropical paradise and tried to find something to eat that wasn’t crusted in coconut, dripping with pineapple or papaya, covered in mangos and macadamia nuts? It almost doesn’t exist. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that doesn’t serve a large side of some type of starch as the main portion of the meal? For a former carb addict it was extremely difficult to watch as everyone else enjoyed the fresh tropical fruit and coconut and to smell the French fries, potato chips, rice, fresh baked bread and pastries. How many different ways can you make eggs and not have it all taste the same?
(As I am writing this I am convicted how selfish this sounds. I know there are starving people in the world who would love to know they could have eggs every morning for breakfast. Bear with me though and overlook my selfishness because there really will be a point to this.)
After about ten days of watching my husband and my friends enjoy the bounty of the tropical paradise, nosh on fish and chips every day, enjoy the appetizers at the bar every evening I had had about all I could stand. One morning I couldn’t even make myself go to breakfast with them. I could not gag down one more egg while they were eating macadamia nut waffles dripping in pineapple syrup. I had reached the end of my resistance. My constant exposure to carbs was more than this carb addict could take. That afternoon I ordered a hamburger for lunch and it was served with fresh made potato chips, which was one of my favorite carbs. (Even to write this makes my mouth water.) I fought it for a few minutes but finally I gave in and ate a small handful of chips. My husband looked on in shocked disbelief and tried to take them away from me. Of course, he had a French fry sticking out of his mouth as he was trying to wrestle my chips away. I realized at that moment what it is like to willfully sin, to know the right thing to do, the thing that is best for you, but to willfully choose to do what is not good for you and has the potential to do significant harm. In that moment it didn’t matter, long term consequences were the farthest thing from my mind. All I wanted was the momentary satisfaction of eating those chips. I feel a little silly writing about this but it was such a vivid picture of sin in our lives I felt I needed to share it. God showed me several things through this experience.
1. If you put yourself in situations where you are tempted to sin, one day in a weak moment, you will probably sin. Willpower only lasts so long and you can only be so strong. Potato chips taught me how weak my self control can be when overwhelmed and tired. I am well aware of the consequences of uncontrolled diabetes. My grandmother lost both of her legs from complications of this disease yet I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it, even at the cost of my health….or legs. How many times do we put ourselves in situations we know could cause us to stumble and we allow ourselves to be tempted, often beyond what we can withstand? How often do we choose momentary pleasure or satisfaction even when we know it has the potential for some serious, long term consequences? Our good intentions are no match for the lure of the forbidden.
2. We can lead people into sin by the things we bring into their lives or putting them in situations where they are tempted. My husband felt almost worse about the potato chip incident than I did because he realized how careless he had been in selecting the places we ate and eating “forbidden food” so freely in front of me. Do you consider the needs of your brother or sister and what things might cause them to stumble? Are you someone who helps them fight a good fight or are you someone who brings temptation into their lives because it isn’t a problem for you? If so, are you really a friend?
3. It is much easier to live the life you were intended to live when you keep yourself separate from the things in the world that are snares for you. At home, I don’t keep anything in the house that I can’t eat, temptation is almost non-existent. Any passing food craving is quickly dispelled. The time and trouble it would be to go to the store gives me the time and space to fight the craving or find something I can eat that will satisfy my hunger. I also don’t feel deprived or like I am missing something when I eat at home. I have several great cookbooks adapted for this diet which allow me to enjoy a large variety of foods and satisfy my need for different tastes. It is only when I go to the grocery store or go out to a restaurant that I am reminded of all the things that are forbidden on this diet. This reminder can quickly send me into victim mode and start the food cravings. My focus quickly turns from all the good things I can eat to all the things that I can no longer have. I can very easily lose sight of all the benefits of eating this way and can see only the things I am missing. This sounds like an endorsement for living a sanctified life to me. If we constantly expose ourselves to things we shouldn’t be around like foul language, R and X rated movies, pornography, racy TV shows, drugs, alcohol, unhealthy relationships or whatever else causes us to stumble, we begin to look more like the world and less like a reflection of Jesus. The pull of the world and all it offers is so powerful that it can quickly change our focus and where we are focused is the path we will take. I understand why Paul gave so many warnings about the things of the world and the harm that they do to our walk and ultimately our witness.
I am happy to report that the small handful of chips I ate that day didn’t send my blood sugar through the ceiling nor did I become a hardcore carb addict again. I have only stumbled a few times since then and am still firmly resolved to follow this diet. My husband is paying much more attention about his diet and what he eats around me and where he takes me out to dinner. We both learned some valuable lessons that day on the beach in Hawaii about potato chips…..and sin.
The hard part about this trip was the same thing that made it possible for me to become an “uncovered”, the low carb diet. Have you ever gone to a tropical paradise and tried to find something to eat that wasn’t crusted in coconut, dripping with pineapple or papaya, covered in mangos and macadamia nuts? It almost doesn’t exist. Do you know how hard it is to find a restaurant that doesn’t serve a large side of some type of starch as the main portion of the meal? For a former carb addict it was extremely difficult to watch as everyone else enjoyed the fresh tropical fruit and coconut and to smell the French fries, potato chips, rice, fresh baked bread and pastries. How many different ways can you make eggs and not have it all taste the same?
(As I am writing this I am convicted how selfish this sounds. I know there are starving people in the world who would love to know they could have eggs every morning for breakfast. Bear with me though and overlook my selfishness because there really will be a point to this.)
After about ten days of watching my husband and my friends enjoy the bounty of the tropical paradise, nosh on fish and chips every day, enjoy the appetizers at the bar every evening I had had about all I could stand. One morning I couldn’t even make myself go to breakfast with them. I could not gag down one more egg while they were eating macadamia nut waffles dripping in pineapple syrup. I had reached the end of my resistance. My constant exposure to carbs was more than this carb addict could take. That afternoon I ordered a hamburger for lunch and it was served with fresh made potato chips, which was one of my favorite carbs. (Even to write this makes my mouth water.) I fought it for a few minutes but finally I gave in and ate a small handful of chips. My husband looked on in shocked disbelief and tried to take them away from me. Of course, he had a French fry sticking out of his mouth as he was trying to wrestle my chips away. I realized at that moment what it is like to willfully sin, to know the right thing to do, the thing that is best for you, but to willfully choose to do what is not good for you and has the potential to do significant harm. In that moment it didn’t matter, long term consequences were the farthest thing from my mind. All I wanted was the momentary satisfaction of eating those chips. I feel a little silly writing about this but it was such a vivid picture of sin in our lives I felt I needed to share it. God showed me several things through this experience.
1. If you put yourself in situations where you are tempted to sin, one day in a weak moment, you will probably sin. Willpower only lasts so long and you can only be so strong. Potato chips taught me how weak my self control can be when overwhelmed and tired. I am well aware of the consequences of uncontrolled diabetes. My grandmother lost both of her legs from complications of this disease yet I wanted what I wanted when I wanted it, even at the cost of my health….or legs. How many times do we put ourselves in situations we know could cause us to stumble and we allow ourselves to be tempted, often beyond what we can withstand? How often do we choose momentary pleasure or satisfaction even when we know it has the potential for some serious, long term consequences? Our good intentions are no match for the lure of the forbidden.
2. We can lead people into sin by the things we bring into their lives or putting them in situations where they are tempted. My husband felt almost worse about the potato chip incident than I did because he realized how careless he had been in selecting the places we ate and eating “forbidden food” so freely in front of me. Do you consider the needs of your brother or sister and what things might cause them to stumble? Are you someone who helps them fight a good fight or are you someone who brings temptation into their lives because it isn’t a problem for you? If so, are you really a friend?
3. It is much easier to live the life you were intended to live when you keep yourself separate from the things in the world that are snares for you. At home, I don’t keep anything in the house that I can’t eat, temptation is almost non-existent. Any passing food craving is quickly dispelled. The time and trouble it would be to go to the store gives me the time and space to fight the craving or find something I can eat that will satisfy my hunger. I also don’t feel deprived or like I am missing something when I eat at home. I have several great cookbooks adapted for this diet which allow me to enjoy a large variety of foods and satisfy my need for different tastes. It is only when I go to the grocery store or go out to a restaurant that I am reminded of all the things that are forbidden on this diet. This reminder can quickly send me into victim mode and start the food cravings. My focus quickly turns from all the good things I can eat to all the things that I can no longer have. I can very easily lose sight of all the benefits of eating this way and can see only the things I am missing. This sounds like an endorsement for living a sanctified life to me. If we constantly expose ourselves to things we shouldn’t be around like foul language, R and X rated movies, pornography, racy TV shows, drugs, alcohol, unhealthy relationships or whatever else causes us to stumble, we begin to look more like the world and less like a reflection of Jesus. The pull of the world and all it offers is so powerful that it can quickly change our focus and where we are focused is the path we will take. I understand why Paul gave so many warnings about the things of the world and the harm that they do to our walk and ultimately our witness.
I am happy to report that the small handful of chips I ate that day didn’t send my blood sugar through the ceiling nor did I become a hardcore carb addict again. I have only stumbled a few times since then and am still firmly resolved to follow this diet. My husband is paying much more attention about his diet and what he eats around me and where he takes me out to dinner. We both learned some valuable lessons that day on the beach in Hawaii about potato chips…..and sin.
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