That's What Friends Are For!

Two are better than one, because...if either of them falls down, one can help the other up.

Last night was a time of affirmation.  Let me rephrase that:  last night was a time of much-needed affirmation!

I’ve been in a rut lately and my soul has been burdened.  While it’s nice to be able to share these things with the hubby, I was able yesterday to speak with two folks who really got me.  I mean, they didn’t just nod their heads in understanding while looking for the nearest exit.  They not only confirmed my feelings but had nearly equal ones in response!  Do you know how good that feels--to know you aren’t crazy, to know that while your spouse agrees with you because, after all, you’ve been married so long that your thoughts often mirror the others’, and to know that all things work together for good?  If you don’t, my hope is that you will be able to go out on that limb and risk it.  Either you’ll break the tree because your weight is too much for it or you’ll find that when Christ is the vine and we are the branches, love covers all.  Rooted and grounded in Him, we can remain steadfast.

Let’s pray!

Dear Lord, thank You for brothers and sisters in Christ who are there when needed.  Thank You for the fellowship, the compassion, and the love You placed in our hearts towards each other, in spite of the world trying to convince us that we are on our own.  We aren’t.

Father?  My heart is still heavy and while it was nice to share, the answers weren’t there.  These friends didn’t have them, as they too were searching for the best avenue to take.  Will You help us--both individually and corporately--to keep seeking Your Word to find what we need?  Thanks.

Lastly, Lord, I pray for those out there who feel alone, uncared for, unheard.  I ask that You send someone their way to see their souls, to hear what’s not being said, and to respond to the cries for help that don’t make it past the eyes.  I ask these things in the name of Christ Jesus, my Redeemer and my Advocate.  Amen.

And the hits just keep comin'

Sigh.  It’s been another one of those...months.  You know what I mean?  It’s not just a day.  Not just a portion of time.  Rather, it seems to be an endless attack on my fragile self that often seems to be barely hanging on.  Remember how Steve likes to say “If you aren’t living on the edge then you’re taking up too much space?”  I think I could use a little more ground under my feet.

Now, I could whine, could grumble, and could go into great detail and list all the somebody-done-me-wrongs so that you would be fascinated and hanging on my every word, wondering why some of these trivial things have the power to even bother me (like a pesty gnat would) or perhaps you might marvel that I didn’t go off on one or two of the souls who really pushed all of those buttons that I left exposed rather than hidden.  However, I am not going to do that.  As my pastor quoted some other fella a couple of weeks ago, “It’s okay to groan but not to gripe.”

That stuck with me and reminded me of the Bible verse about this.  Romans 8:26 tells us “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.”  

Kind of also reminds me of the latest MercyMe song “Even If” when these words are sung:

They say it only takes a little faith
To move a mountain
Well good thing
A little faith is all I have, right now
But God, when You choose
To leave mountains unmovable
Oh give me the strength to be able to sing
It is well with my soul

A little faith.  

God, when You choose.  

Give me the strength.  

Make it well with my soul, Lord, is my heart’s cry to You right now.  In Jesus’ name I ask this.  Amen.

Who's Got Your Front?

I may have mentioned before that I enjoy listening to John Denver.  His songs show his relationship to nature and the things in his universe that bring him solace.  While I am unaware of his relationship with God, I do know that the lyrics he composed often allow me to reflect on Him and, as I am prone to do when I find something that applies mostly to me, I may often change a word or two to make it “mine.”  

Here’s an example from “Looking for Space” that I have changed:

And I'm looking for space
And to find out who I am
And I'm looking to know and understand
It's a sweet, sweet dream
Sometimes I'm almost there
Sometimes I fly like an eagle
And sometimes I'm deep in despair

In my version, the last line sings like this:  “Sometimes I fly like an eagle and sometimes I weep in despair.”  

Another of John’s classic songs I enjoy is “Sunshine on my Shoulders.”  On my shoulders, yes, the sun makes me happy.  But when it’s in my eyes?  When it’s shining on my face, blinding me, sometimes even burning me?  Then I tend to prefer it to stay behind me.  It can make me cry.

I pondered that as I took my morning stroll.  I could walk on and on and on if the sun was behind me.  Feeling its warmth--but not its heat!--I truly feel that my walks would last quite a bit longer.  However, in my ’hood, I tend to walk back and forth.  This means at one point I walk into the sun and when I get to my turnaround spot, then I walk to the other end of the road with my back towards it.  Knowing the sun is Christ, I contemplate on how well He takes care of me, how He’s there to pick me up when I stumble and/or fall.  I know His light allows me to stay upright and to bask in His glory.  It’s when I turn around though, and look straight into its face, into God’s face.  Like Moses, I cannot stand it!  It’s too much for me!  It burns my flesh.  It heats my body.  It blinds my eyes.  

I’m fair-skinned and blue-eyed.  Not a great combination for being in the great outdoors, huh?  That being said--and I’ll conclude with this--being in the direct sunshine is something I can only do in small doses.  I have the scars to prove it and my dermatologist will confirm that I have helped make the annual office budget stay in the black with my frequent visits.  But when I am on Jesus’ accounting books?  When the records reveal what the Son has in His plus column, His profit margins?  Sigh.  I shudder to think.

Jesus has my back.  He has my front as well but it’s awfully hard for me to walk in His light directly.  I fall short.  I cannot see all that He has prepared because my finite eyes just cannot take it in.  I cannot see His plans because they are not ready to be revealed just yet.  I sometimes take small steps where I can boldly step into the light and then...and then my eyes are filled with those annoying black dots that mar my vision because it’s just too much.  The passion of His call burns me as I contemplate if I can live up to it.  The shame of my failures heats my face to a red that is caused not by the sun’s rays but by the Son’s compassion.  But you see, even though I fall short and my race is not yet won?  Even though I can only get Jesus in small doses?  Even though His Word is a lamp unto my feet, it’s the darkness of life that I trod through and only He can brighten the way.  I get glimpses of His plan once in a while because that is all I am capable of handling.  He knows this.  He’s got me and is patient with my progress and yes, there are times when it all seems to be at a standstill.  Truthfully there are paths I have to go back down and re-walk because I bit off more than I could chew.  But through it all, God stays constant.  He’s my Sunshine.  He’s my Map.  He’s got my front.

Let’s pray!

Dear Lord, my analogies aren’t always succinct to those who may read my blog but hopefully through some of this mess, the message of You will shine forth.  

Lord?  Thank You for opportunities to learn more about You and to grow in Your truths.  There is so much of You to learn and I am so thankful that I will have eternity to learn the things that my tiny little brain just can’t handle right now.  

Thanks for having my front, God.  May I walk in You--even when it’s just baby steps--is my plan.  I purpose this in the name of Jesus Christ.  Amen!

From Sanctuary to Woodshed

My Pretty Purple Room is my haven.  It’s my go-to spot for when I want to relax, read, refresh, and reflect.  It’s where I do many of my Bible Studies, journaling, blogging, and enjoying my crafts.  It’s my sanctuary.

Not many folks are allowed in.  It’s sacred, in a sense, and must be enjoyed by those who enter into it.  It’s where I meet with God and feel closest to Him.

Imagine then, to my chagrin, when last night this place of beauty became one of beating.  My security nest became my courtroom and I was the one on trial.  

It all began innocently enough.  Steve had mentioned that he wanted to catch up with me on my studying on the Book of Proverbs so we verse by verse read and discussed Chapter 18.  We talked about many of the parallels we had noticed in biblical brothers and in a set of brothers we know fairly well.  And then, out of the blue, the conversation shifted and BAM!  Suddenly I was the brother.  I was the man with the broken spirit.  I was the offender.  In my tongue was the power of life and death--and death was what I was causing.

Oh so gently but with great compassion, my faults were laid out.  My transgressions that I had been unaware of were listed and brutal facts were bared as I realized what I thought was my place in actuality was not and the spankings began.  As each issue was confronted, I felt the sting of the chastening rod.  As my pride was dealt with, I reeled with the blows.  And as the lesson was explained, all I could do was cry hot tears of anger, frustration, and see that yes, indeed, I have been out of line, and the tears of guilt and shame flowed down my embarrassed cheeks.

I had no defense.  No excuses would cover my “crimes.”  No witnesses were called in to vouch for my character, for you see, my character had been already determined and found lacking.  The evidence of my behaviour was there in all its sad glory and I was found guilty.  And then came the sentencing stage.  My punishment was to...to change my ways.  To accept my mistakes and learn from them.  To be thankful for the opportunity to do better next time. And the next.  For you see, I am not held prisoner to a life-sentence of gloom and doom.  Instead, I am being released on my own recognizance.  

As I wrote in my thankful journal (the one I started the other day to write down one thing that brought me joy for each day), the tears of sorrow were tempered with joy because, you must understand, I realized that my God loves me.  My God loves me enough to chasten me, to correct me, to discipline me, to reprove me.  Reprove:  isn’t that a great word when read as re-prove?  It’s like one is given another opportunity to prove that s/he is worthy.

Here’s what I wrote.  Read it slowly, pausing after each phrase.  Feel my pain and then?  Experience my joy as again, I am reminded that God loves me, that my husband loves me enough to tell me the truth, and that between us all, hope arises for better.  Amen?

My PPR tonight became a woodshed experience.  So many hard truths were exposed and oh, how my flesh was...spanked?  No.  Torn apart?  Yeah.  Broken.  Cut.  Bruised.  

And I thank You, Lord God, that it was.  Yeah, it hurts but I know this discipline was necessary and I know I must let go of my desires and trust You for the greater good.  So, yes, thanks Lord for this woodshed experience.  May the wisdom taught to me tonight take root in my soul, be applied to my heart, and be exampled in my life is my prayer.  Amen.

The 3 Ms

Lately I have had three prayer requests for those who ask how they can pray for me.  Each begins with the letter m to help make it easier for them.  Mouth, mind, and motivation.  These are the key areas of my life in which I strongly and urgently need divine assistance from.

My mouth often gets me into trouble.  It speaks without hesitation at times.  It spouts off bitter words rather than the sweet ones for which it was designed.  It responds in anger when something has been said to me that my flesh did not like.  Because I am a writer, my mouth is connected too closely to my fingers and like my lips, they don't always know when to stop.

My mind thinks about all of this as it happens.  It wonders and wanders about the best response.  In the space of a millisecond, it can rationalize, argue, and draw on past memories to send it into one orbit or another universe, all while battling against itself for the rightful response.

And there's where motivation comes in.  I can please the flesh or I can please the Father.  I don't always choose correctly.

This morning while reading Proverbs 15, verse 28 stood out to me.  It reads likes this:  The heart of the righteous studies how to answer, But the mouth of the wicked pours forth evil.

A righteous heart is what I yearn for but too often have to contend with a self-righteous one instead.  Thus, my prayer request for the 3 Ms.  If my mouth will fall in line with my mind's thoughts--when they are seeking the good things, that is--my motivation for pleasing the Lord and reflecting a Christ-like attitude will all work together.  

Something happened yesterday and it really set me off.  I was in danger of losing control of my actions and fumed for quite a while.  The things I wrote and then deleted.  The thoughts I had that were filled with such meanness!  And let's not even talk about the self-recriminations for being so vile.

When my husband came home and we discussed our days, I of course had to share all of this with him.  Then, as he so often does, my hubby balmed my disquieted soul with this reminder from James:  Be angry and sin not.  

"Get mad," he said.  "Be furious!  God never said you couldn't be upset.  But tell Him.  Rant and rave to Him.  He can take it.  He can deal with your mean thoughts.  He can handle your unkind words.  They don't surprise Him and they don't lessen you in His eyes."  

Something like that.  Steve wasn't giving me a license to be Hate Goat Queen of the Year but he was validating my emotions and my right to them.  At the same time, he was reminding me that if I look for fault over one incident then I am probably going to have a wealth of material to draw from as I ruminate over the past mistakes of the one who infuriated me and before long an avalanche of bitterness may well up in me, taking me down a path that is not meant to be trod.  As I dwell on past infractions, my mind is filled with things that are not lovely, not good, and not Christlike.  

It's so easy for the devil to sidetrack me.  An innocent conversation can quickly turn into a place for him to stick his nasty foot and interrupt something good with insinuations, falsehoods, and damage my calm that was too easily blown away.  See why I need the 3 Ms prayed consistently and fervently for me?  Let's do that now, shall we, lest I ramble on and on?

Dear Lord, 

To begin with, I need to apologize to You for being such a late bloomer.  Things that have resonated with others for years I seem to have a harder time grasping and applying.  Controlling the tongue has been taught to me for years but somehow I keep failing the test.  You know how I strive to achieve success in this area but Father?  I keep faltering.

As I come to You now and ask for help with my mouth, my mind, and my motivation, I ask for You to implement Your Word more thoroughly into my life.  My aim is to be more like Jesus and when I miss the mark, Lord, it saddens me.  

Thank You for Your Word, Your mercy, and Your longsuffering as I continue this journey.  Thank You for the opportunities You place before me to do better.  May I do better today is my prayer.  Amen.

...even as I am fully known.

  

Sigh.  This just happened.  

A few moments ago I was looking through my latest pictures and adding them to the program I use, Picasa, for editing purposes.  Picasa has as one of its features an identifying tool, where it labels the people in each photograph.  Depending on if there has already been a name attached to that face, Picasa will ask you to confirm that identity, create a new one, or give it a label for someone it thinks is being depicted.  Sometimes it gets it right; other times it suggests someone closely related to that soul.  Other times it can be downright comical or plain out crazy when it thinks one looks like a certain so-and-so in a given picture.

This tool from Picasa is quite handy for keeping me organized.  Sometimes I need to make a special gift or use someone’s face for something I am working on.  Being able to go to my People Album and have all of these images to choose from in a timely manner is great!

However…

However, the downside to this tool is that it wants to give a name to each face that is recognized by it and when a name isn’t assigned, it can bog down my folder, leaving me with hundreds of unidentified folks that just happened to be randomly in my pictures, or occasional photo bombers that I will probably never know, strangers, or…

Gulp.

Or folks whom I no longer wish to associate with or be reminded of later.  Those perhaps who once were important to me but now only serve as distasteful reminders of happier times or times best left in the past.  

To combat this, I have assigned--collectively--a name to these that combines them all into a one-person folder so that they don’t clog up my collection.  The name I have given to it?  Unknown.  

For the most part, it’s true.  The ones who show up in my pictures where large crowds may be are unknown to me.  And the ones who often show up but I have no relationship to are also easier to be nameless, rather than having a repertoire of hundreds of folks that I really don’t wish to have a personal file on.  Does that make sense?

So, back to the premise of today’s blog. I was struck this morning by seeing several family members that I have relegated to my “Unknown” label.  Saddened, even.  I gazed at some of these faces Picasa was trying to give an identity to and just hurt in my soul that these cousins, siblings, and others were now unknown to me.  Whether we lost touch, weren’t that close after all, or...or...whatever.  To me, for my own sanity and well-being, I put them in the “Unknown” file and wondered:  is someone out there doing this same thing to me?  Am I now a stranger when once I was so much more?  What a sad, sad state of affairs.

I Corinthians 13:12 speaks of this.  Read it with me?  “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.”  

Friends, have you been fully known to someone who now is no longer a part of your world?  Or have you been cast aside as unworthy, no longer a vital part--or even a partial part, for that matter--of someone’s life?  Hurts, doesn’t it?  

Sigh.

Thankfully, though, we do have hope.  We have a promise.  One day, reconciliation will happen for those who are a part of the family of God.  The clouds will disappear.  The assumed and presumed will be made known, as will we.  No longer encumbered by the devil’s lies, we will know the truth and it will set us free.  Yes, I agree:  it is sad--it is maddening!!--that some of us are too stubborn and hard-hearted to get to realize these things on this side of eternity.  Too many of us have listened to the lies and the whispers that the devil spouts off, as he wreaks havoc in the lives of God’s children.  Oh the pain he has caused and still continues to maim us with!  But one day...one day, friends, we will know.  Face to face.  All will be revealed.

Until then?  Until then, we still will face hurt and we will still grieve over relationships and loved ones that prick our hearts at the most unexpected moments.  There will still be times that the devil uses these memories and Facebook postings from previous days to steal our joys.  I wish I had an answer for you for how to deal with this but it’s just different for each of us, right, the way that we handle haunts?  All I can do now is remind you again that as God’s children, one day this won’t be so.  One day all wrongs will be made right.  And as the song proclaims, what a day that will be!

Let’s pray!

Ahh, Father.  The marvels of technology continue to progress and we, Your children?  What do we do with these new-fangled “helps”?  Allow them to prick us and gouge at our already-tender hearts as we unknowingly, innocently even, go about a random act that suddenly turns into a minefield of emotions that we weren’t even aware of still existed in us?  

Lord, we have got to do better!  The devil is getting smarter and more conniving in his ways of stealing our joy so we have to be stronger and more proactive in our defense of self.  Using a tool like I just described is one way of self-preservation for me and hopefully it just might help another soul out there with hers.  Ultimately though, Lord, we know we need You to defend us, to preserve us, to save us.  When these fiery darts come out of the blue, I pray our shields of faith will be nearby to block them.  But when they aren’t, Father, will You please balm our wounds?  Will You remind us to seek You, Your Word, and talk to You about our injuries and find solace in Your care until that day, Lord, that day when we are set free?  I’d be ever so grateful if You did!

Thank You for being here for me, for my readers, for Your children.  We don’t always know how to express our feelings, God, but we thank You for the Holy Spirit Who intercedes for our groanings that are often too deep for words, as promised in Romans 8:26.  Thank You for Your Word, Father, and for Your love.  I love You too!

In the precious name of Christ Jesus I pray.  Amen!