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!