Tag: Healing

reality

False Encouragement

jem

I think we all have well-meaning people in our lives. You know the ones that are quick to redirect our honest, heartfelt, deep moments of transparency, into something that makes them feel more comfortable.

The ones that think they know us well enough to correct us.

But reality is— they just don’t get us at all.

They don’t realize the wall they are putting up, or the signals they send.

Maybe this is why God is often the only One I feel comfort in, or safe confiding in.

God has never left me feeling like something is wrong with me.

He never leaves me feeling like I’m stupid, or over-sensitive, or misunderstanding His Word or calling on my life.

He never tells me to push myself farther than I know is too much for me.

He tells me to lean on Him, that He is my strength.

Not that I have to do things in my own strength or because it’s what people are expecting me to do or be like.

God has never made me feel like I don’t know what I’m talking about.

God never makes me feel like I’m a burden.

I am often confronted with things I see others have that I just don’t have.

Relationships I’ve just never had access to, for whatever reason.

I’ve spent my life working to be for others what I’ve wished I had.

Someone who hasn’t been in my shoes can’t understand my perspective.

That doesn’t mean my perspective is wrong.

That doesn’t make me a target for mocking and sarcastic opinions.

That makes me normal.

I have been broken.

God has chosen to repair some things, but He has also— for His reasons— chosen to not repair other things.

Relationships.

Giving my life to Christ has not fixed anything about me to perfection.

I have been conditioned to feel ashamed, to feel “less than” everyone else.

But Not by God.

God has been working deeply in me to re-condition me. To fix ungodly beliefs about me being deserving of nothing more than being under the feet of others. Ungodly beliefs that I deserve to be the scapegoat carrying the shame of others.

That is not what God has created me to be.

I have grown children, and I’m still struggling with a belief system imposed on me as a child— the belief that things would be better if I just weren’t born. Belief that I’m supposed to take the blame for things others have done.

Belief that my reputation, my feelings— my life— don’t matter like everyone else’s does.

Undeserving of the life God chose to give to me.

Those are lies of the enemy of God that people who claim to be Christians have imposed upon me.

It’s not often, anymore, that I reflect upon these things.

As I do now, I recognize God’s Hand upon my life.

God moved me away. He has provided for me and nurtured me.

As The Potter, He has been deep at work reshaping the ungodly beliefs others have bestowed upon me. People I have striven to impress, to gain the attention and affection of.

Even today, decades later, the striving is in vain.

It’s exhausting being the only one that cares about nurturing relationships I’ve wanted to desperately hang on to.

I am exhausted.

So— I am letting them go.

I’m not expecting the same effort I put in. In fact— I’ve already experienced the evidence that I can fade off into the distance, and just be gossip, but no relationship.

Experience has taught me I’m not someone others will put that effort into.

Emotionally it has always been a taxing thing for me. It has caused anxiety, stress— worry…

Physically I am just as weak as I am emotionally, now.

My reaction wants to be to just not care.

But that’s not how God made me.

God made me to not only care— He made me to empathize with others who have similar experiences.

There are those I’ve tried to share things with that will tell me to calm down, that I’m too sensitive, that what I’m feeling or understanding isn’t real.

Those people are wrong.

And I’m done hitting the walls they put up out of intolerance for what is just me.

God placed them in my life. I don’t believe they are fulfilling God’s calling for them in my life, and I do think God cares.

Often my spirit feels weighted down with a sense of grieving. That is just fact.

It’s not depression.

It’s not self-esteem issues.

It’s grief.

Grief over the ones who helped instill those ungodly beliefs God is working to fix my understanding of.

Grief as He calls attention to them, as He focuses on making sure I recognize each one of them, and He shows me what His Truth about each one is.

People are fallible.

I just want to be malleable under His Hand as He works out all of those mars and lumps.

NF – All I Have Lyrics excerpts “All I ever wanted was somebody to hear me
And all I ever wanted was somebody to feel me
And everybody wanna tell me that I’m out of my head…”
“And you better get ready cause you might find
I’m from a different place and my kind
It’s a little bit different than yours is…”
“I don’t live for the world
I live for the King, I live for the King, focus
Wrote this with emotion
You do what you wanted but you can’t contain me…”

Don’t tell me that this isn’t real, don’t tell me it’s not how I feel…”

“All I ever wanted was somebody to get this…”
“I stand behind these words. I’m a Christian but I’m not perfect
Don’t tell me to calm down. I’m calm now,…”
“Yeah it might take a minute to get it but once you get it everything will be crystal clear
I don’t think they see my vision here. I don’t think they see my vision here!
Don’t tell me that this isn’t real
Don’t tell me this ain’t how I feel
This is all I have. All I have.”

NF – All I Have



introspection, reality, The Past

Translucent— Paralyzed (Do You See Me Down Here, Oh Lord?)

jem

Merriam-Webster defines translucent as:

“permitting the passage of light:

: transmitting and diffusing light so that objects beyond cannot be seen clearly

Clear, transparent

translucent water

: free from disguise or falseness”

I guess if I had a “theme” for my blog posts, this might be a defining term I’m aiming for.

I’ve been working my way through more NF songs, lately. Today, I have two on my heart.

The first one, I think it’s a deeply important one to address— “Paralyzed”. The second is the chorus from “Oh Lord”. (I think both can be a great mash-up.)

As the “Paralyzed” lyrics flow, they hit sensitive areas in my past that I buried or forgot about.

Oh, my God, thank You— he has described this lack of just everything— that I could never put a name to!!

I still have moments of this numb feeling, in certain social situations, I get struck with this— paralysis— NF has given it a name! I can define it! You have no idea how impactful and healing that is for me. If the “spotlight” focus of attention is on me— I still sometimes freeze up! When I leave social meetings, I sometimes have this weird ache— almost like that feeling when the numbness wears off at the dentist— in my chest. I feel vulnerable,

exposed.

I spent many of my youthful days going through the motions, disconnected from my emotions.

These lyrics transcend just words for me— they overwhelm my spirit with… I don’t really know what. Understanding, maybe? Relief?

I didn’t think anyone could ever understand. No one around me ever seemed to. But then— I was afraid to even ask, to talk about anything.

I just thought I was alone.

And then— I remember someone telling me they struggled with the same kind of eating issues that I did— and they gave it a name— Anorexia. I thought I had a friend I could identify with, that understood me. But— friendship with me wasn’t something she was interested in. In fact— she seemed annoyed that I had those problems too.

I was alone.

My whole life, all I ever wanted was to feel included, wanted, appreciated— valued.

Absorbing the lyrics from the NF song “Paralyzed”— they took me right back to those moments. Only, as I again felt them, I was also standing outside of it all, looking at it from a perspective of having been healed, or delivered, from the damage and circumstances that rendered me

detached.

I remember walking through my middle school hallways, realizing— I couldn’t feel anything.

I was emotionally numb.

I think that was when the self harm started for me.

I spent years hiding the scars on my arms and legs. They have faded, can’t be seen easily anymore, but I know exactly where they are.

When I wrote poems, I marveled over where the words even came from. I didn’t write thoughts I was meditating on, inspiration didn’t come from outer sources, dreams or conversations. I would wake up in the middle of the night, and I just had to write.

“Can You see us down here, Oh Lord?”

I wonder what I look like to God? I know all the encouraging words of Scripture— and I believe them.

I also know God sees what we can’t see or understand.

I think as the lyrics from “Paralyzed” grab my heart, make me catch my breath from overwhelming remembrance, understanding— and emotions I’m no longer detached from, flood all my senses— I see that God is outside of things, but He somehow still feels what we feel, He sees what we see— and so much more.

My world felt impossibly dark and devastating.

But God.

God’s Light has diffused the darkness my soul was held captive in. His Holy Light came into my life, and all that nasty darkness fled— Jesus set this captive free. He healed my heart and my life.

He restores my soul.

Daily.

As much as we often believe our childhood shapes and defines us— it’s not permanent. I believe that.

The damning, torturous grip that once had its hold on me, has been released.

God broke the fingers of that stronghold over my perception, that affected my decisions.

There are some who are in a similar place to where I was.

It can get better. Most often, circumstances aren’t permanent. There is nothing God cannot change, heal, repair, restore or improve.

You are not alone.

Nothing is too difficult for God.

“Intro:]
When did I become so numb?
When did I lose myself?
All the words that leave my tongue
Feel like they came from someone else

I’m paralyzed (Do You see me down here, oh Lord?) (Yeah, I’m just so paralyzed)
Where are my feelings? (Don’t You see me down here, oh Lord?) (Yeah, I’m just so paralyzed)
I no longer feel things (I have no feelings)
I know I should (Can You see me down here, oh Lord?) (Oh. How come I’m not moving? Why aren’t I moving? Ay yeah)
I’m paralyzed
Where is the real me? (Can’t You see me down here, oh Lord??) (Where is the real me?)
I’m lost and it kills me – inside (I’m paralyzed)

[Verse 1:]
When did I become so cold?
When did I become ashamed? (Ooh)
Where’s the person that I know?
They must have left
They must have left
With all my faith

[Verse 2:]
I’m paralyzed (Do You see me down here, oh Lord?)
I’m scared to live but I’m scared to die
And if life is pain then I buried mine a long time ago
But it’s still alive
And it’s taking over me – where am I? (Don’t You see me down here, oh Lord?)
I wanna feel something, I’m numb inside
But I feel nothing, I wonder why
And on the race of life time passes by
Look
I sit back and I watch it, hands in my pockets
Waves come crashing over me but I just watch ’em (Can You see me down here, oh Lord?)
I just watch ’em
I’m under water but I feel like I’m on top of it
I’m at the bottom and I don’t know what the problem is
I’m in a box (Can’t You see me down here, oh Lord?)
But I’m the one who locked me in
Suffocating and I’m running out of oxygen

[Outro]
Do You see us down here? Oh Lord
Can You see us down here? Oh Lord
Oh Lord, oh Lord
Can You see us? Can’t You see us?down here? Oh Lord
Oh Lord, oh Lord
Can You see us? Can’t You see us?”

Walking With God

Keeping It 100– Real

jem

My youngest has become a superfan of NF. My whole family, I think, is a fan at some level, but my youngest, who is 11, surprises us sometimes by his choice in ringtones (Leave Me Alone!— NF song 😅), and what he has stored on his flip phone— mostly NF songs. The other day, he chose Therapy Session to play through the car radio. I asked him if he related to the words and felt like he needed therapy because of me, lol. He said “No.”

As I absorbed the impact of the words in the song, once again I was drawn into just how much they reflect my own heart. One phrase is “I was talking to fans
And one of them pulled me aside and said
“We never met but I swear that you know who I am
I been through a lot
I don’t know how to express it to people, don’t think that I can…”

Well, that’s me, for sure. I could have been that fan!

Another phrase jumped out at me, and has been bouncing around in my thoughts. It’s actually the inspiration for this post.

“This music” (my blog) “is not just for people who sit in the pews and pray at the churches
I’ve been rejected
I don’t expect everyone to respect it
I don’t expect you to get my perspective
What you expect from a therapy session, huh?”

“I mean, I think sometimes people they confuse what I’m doing
I write about life, I write about things that I’m actually dealing with
Something that I’m actually experiencing, this is real for me
Like this is something that personally helps me as well
I’m not confused about who gave me the gift
God gave me the gift, and he gave me the ability to do this…”

“And he also gave me this as an outlet…”

This is me here—

The experiences NF has shared in his music are NOT the same as mine— the reactions, emotions, and scarred-over-wounds— they often are the same.

You don’t walk away, sometimes run away, from the things I’ve lived through and some things I have done, without wounds— some very, very deep wounds. Most are now scars— but

even scars hurt sometimes.

While this is sometimes my type of therapy, I am open and honest in sharing here to possibly reach out to maybe even one person who needs soneone to step up along side them, and show someone really does understand.

That is always my intent here.

Always.

So, I am going to be misunderstood.

I am going to be “corrected”.

I am still going to be told I should write about “happy, positive things”.

I am going to be given advice I don’t need.

I am going to make some people uncomfortable.

I want to apologize, because that’s in my nature, but I won’t. Because this is how God made me.

I don’t need a therapist— I have God. God’s Holy Spirit is my counselor. His Word is my “self-help” book.

I have this blog to sort out things. To help me see things, to work through them.

I get it all out or my head and my heart, sometimes here, sometimes in prayer privately.

I have learned that how to let things go, to give them to God, is to NOT try to lock them in a dark closet, or sweep them under a rug.

To get them out into the open, to look at them fully, to examine the roots as much as possible, to confront them— to surrender them to Jesus.

And then I move on.

Sometimes I bring others into my process through my blog posts— but not always.

Sometimes it’s just between God and me.

But— you, whoever and wherever you are, are always welcome to look here to find understanding and hopefully some degree of God’s healing.

Everyone needs to be heard, to be understood— to be identified with.

That’s my intention— always.

I am not the perfect writer. I am not perfect in any way— ever.

I am just real.

Because that’s how God has made me to be.

http://www.absolutelyrics.com/lyrics/view/nf/therapy_session

“Yeah, I gotta say like a month ago
I was talking to fans
And one of them pulled me aside and said
“We never met but I swear that you know who I am
I been through a lot
I don’t know how to express it to people
Don’t think that I can but I got that mansion CD on rotation
That’s real for me Nate, you do not understand”
It’s crazy for me
Kids hit me up, say they slitting they wrists on the daily
This music is more than you think
Don’t book me for just entertainment, it’s entertaining
Hearing these parents, they telling their kids
My music is violent, you gotta be kidding me
I guess that your definition of violence and mine
Is something that we look at differently
How do you picture me ah?
Want me to smile, you want me to laugh
You want me to walk in the stage with a smile on my face
When I’m mad and put on a mask, for real though
I mean, what you expect from me?
I’m tryna do this respectfully
They say that life is a race
I know my problems’ll probably catch up eventually
I do my best to be calm
How you gon’ write me and tell me you slaughter my family?
That’s just a glimpse to the stuff that get sent to me
These the parts of my life that’ll never see, woo
I am aware it’s aggressive
I am not here for acceptance
I don’t know what you expect here
But what you expect when you walk in a therapy session?

Therapy, therapy session
Therapy, therapy session

This girl at the show looked me in the face
And told me her life’s full of drama
Said that her dad is abusive
Apparently he likes to beat on her mama
I got so angry inside
I wanted to tell her to give me his number
But what you gon’ do with it right?
You gon’ hit him up then he’ll start hitting her harder
That’s real
These kids, they come to my shows
With tears in they eyes
Imagine someone looking at you
And saying your music’s the reason that they are alive
Sometimes, I don’t know how to handle it
This type of life isn’t glamorous
This ain’t an act for the cameras
You see me walk on these stages but have no idea what I’m dealing with after it
I put it all in the open
This is the way that I cope with all my emotion
I’m taking pictures with thousands of people
But honestly, I feel like nobody knows me
I’m trying to deal with depression
I’m trying to deal with the pressure
How you gon’ tell me my music does not have a message
When I’m looking out at this crowd full of people I know I affected?
Ah, I got some things in my life, I know I should let ’em go
Let me jot it down, let me take a mental note
I put it all in this microphone, think about that for a minute
What is the point of this song, I’m just venting but what you expect from a therapy session?

Therapy, therapy session
Therapy, therapy session

What you think about me
That doesn’t worry me
I know I handle some things immaturely
I know that I need to grow in maturity
I ain’t gon’ walk on these stages in front of these people
And act like I live my life perfectly
That doesn’t work for me
Christian is not the definition of a perfect me, woo
I ain’t the type to be quiet
I ain’t gon’ sit here in silence
If I wouldn’t say what I say to your face
Then I promise you I wouldn’t say it in private
I am not lying
People go off on my page and I’m trying to quit the replying
But this is ridiculous
I’m passionate man, I really mean what I’m writing
You want me to keep it 100? Okay, I’ll keep it 100
I see a whole lot of talking on socials
But honestly, I don’t see nothing in public
I kinda love it, yeah
“Why don’t you write us some happy raps?
That would be awesome
All your music is moody and dark, Nate”
Don’t get me started
You wanna know what it’s like if you met me in person?
Listen to my verses
This music is not just for people
Who sit in the pews and pray at the churches
I won’t reject it
I don’t expect everyone to respect it
I don’t expect you to get my perspective
What you expect from a therapy session?

I mean, I think sometimes people they confuse what I’m doing
I write about life, I write about things that I’m actually dealing with
Something that I’m actually experiencing, this is real for me
Like this is something that personally helps me as well
I’m not confused about who gave me the gift
God gave me the gift and he gave me the ability to do this
And he also gave me this as an outlet
And that’s what music is for me
When I feel something, whether it’s anger
Um, it’s a passion about something, or frustration
Like this is where I go, this is, that’s the whole nfrealmusic thing man
This is real for me, I need this, this is a therapy for me”

introspection

Adopted As His, Restored For His Glory, Used For His Purpose— For Our Good

jem

I struggle with something that has been medically defined as “body dysmorphia”, from an eating disorder I developed as a child. As a result— my view of myself and others physically is often pretty off.

Thankfully, God has been deeply at work healing me, in every way possible.

As God has been changing my perspective to match His, I have learned I just can’t rely on what I see, or what “feels” obvious.

I have traveled a long way from where I used to be. Physically in location, but also in many other ways. My reflex reactions to things, my understanding of what I see visually has been so skewed, I find I rely on other things to help me feel my way through life. I try to read people’s reactions, to gauge their acceptance of me through their words.

As a result, I don’t often see things the way others do and seem to expect me to.

It catches me off guard when others miss the heart of things I share, and get offended or misinterpret me.

I have always looked at myself as though something must be wrong with me.

God has been at work at how I see me. He has refined some things, He has changed how I focus, He has shown me that what I naturally am tempted to focus on doesn’t match up with what He accurately sees at all.

I have sensitivities others don’t seem to. The way many appear to respond or react has said to me that I am the problem.

Lately though, God has revealed to me that sometimes He’s highlighting what’s wrong with others.

He has fixed me not for the world’s acceptance, but for His purposes.

He reveals broken areas for me to be used to pray for them, to demonstrate His grace, His mercy, His kindness— His love.

His ways are, sadly, definitely not my own.

So He has been humbling me. Not to be mean or cruel, but so I will be of use to Him.

So I can join Him where He is at work.

My flesh still wants to resist, to be prideful, to reject what is uncomfortable.

But to reject that is to reject His purpose for what He’s changing in me.

If that makes me look peculiar— even to other Christians— I have to live with that.

He has been weeding out some very ugly things that have taken root and grown strongly in the garden of my understanding and my heart, that have become my focal points.

He has planted seeds that are just beginning to grow the fruit of His Holy Spirit that lives within very imperfect me. His fruit is becoming my offerings of sacrifice as I give up the old me and allow God to direct the new me He is still bringing about.

So many very ugly things are always being plucked out of me to make more room for the fruit God loves.

I have been adopted by Him, changed by Him, groomed for His purposes.

Nothing else matters.

My focal point has to be Jesus. Everything that blocks Jesus from my view has to be adjusted, fixed, or removed.

Walking With God

What If I Just Can’t Thank Him For The Trials?

jem

I’ve heard many people, throughout my lifetime, tell me I should thank God for the difficult things.

This has never sat well with me.

Just like I’ve heard some say that everything that happens is because God wants it to happen.

The God I serve doesn’t make bad things happen.

The God I serve allows bad things to happen.

These are not one and the same.

The God I serve made sure His faithful servants, Shaddrach, Meshach and Abednego were protected in the fiery furnace.

God did not put them inside of the furnace. He did not light the fire.

God did not make Joseph’s brothers sell him into slavery, and make it appear to their dad that he was dead. God knew before it happened, He warned and encouraged Joseph. God then led Joseph, He protected Joseph, He raised Joseph up to a place where he demonstrated God’s mercy, His forgiveness and His provision for some of those people who made the bad things happen to Joseph.

God restored.

God tested Abraham’s faithfulness with his promised son’s life. God provided Abraham with another way— He gave him a ram to sacrifice, and through his obedience Abraham proved to God that He trusted Him, Isaac proved that he trusted God through his father. God proved He is trustworthy.

Paul was warned that bad things were going to happen to him by someone who worried for his safety. Bad things happened to him— but God did not make the bad things happen. God led Paul through every situation.

As I’m thinking about Paul, before God renamed him, I do remember God inflicting him with blindness. Why? Because He needed to get Paul’s (then Saul of Tarsus) attention. As Saul, he was persecuting severely—to the death— God’s chosen people doing God’s chosen work. Through the blindness Paul was inflicted with, God showed him that he was behaving as an enemy of God— no matter how “righteous” and pure-of-heart his intentions were. He humbled him, made sure he was able to hear, to see, the truth about Jesus and everyone preaching that Jesus was the promised Messiah.

I realize God can do whatever God wants, whenever God wants, and He doesn’t ever have to make sure any of us understand why.

But.

I believe He has gone to great lengths to do just that.

Everything we ever need to understand God’s unchanging character is written for us to study.

Before I knew I needed to follow the example and words of Jesus, I did things and said things that most likely made me God’s enemy.

I can’t think of even one bad situation I believe God ever made happen in my life.

Even at my worst!

I will never believe God made people hurt me in the multiple ways I’ve been hurt.

Many of those situations I walked right into, eyes wide open, and it was people— not God— that hurt me.

But God was with me in every single situation.

He made sure the right things happened, the right people of His choice helped me.

He has been right there, protecting me— undeserving, frustrating, mis-guided me— every time.

All of the time.

There is not one bad thing in my life that I can ever thank God for.

I don’t believe Scripture teaches us to blame the bad things on God in order to then thank Him to glorify Him.

I just can’t do that.

My God is Good.

My God is kind.

My God is understanding.

My God is my comfort.

My God is my Healer.

My God protects me.

My God never forsakes me.

In every fire, every troubling situation— He is my Rock.

The Rock that those hard places try to crush me against— He shields me, never crushes me.

No matter how much I have deserved to be crushed.

I can always thank God for turning bad things around for my good, His Glory, because I love Him deeply and I am called according to His purpose.

He does not start the fires.

He makes sure they don’t burn me.

For that I will forever thank Him. Eternally.

God's Heart, Walking With God, What life has taught me

Communication— Let’s Talk About It

jem

1 Cor 13:11-13 “When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully, just as I also have been fully known. But now faith, hope, and love remain, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

The struggle is real.

Effective communication is a skill we Americans have lost.

This information age has severe relational consequences.

Personality clashes are enhanced by our lack in effective communication skills.

We are all at a disadvantage.

We all behave like children, at times, insisting on getting our own way while not hearing what others have to say.

And, we avoid. Unfortunately, avoiding dealing with things — that never resolves anything.

But, head-on resolution isn’t what most feel comfortable with.

Where is that middle ground?

Many years ago, I was included in an uncomfortable confrontation about me. God’s Spirit spoke to my spirit, and told me to not let myself get pulled into it. My character was attacked, and what did I do? I let myself get pulled into it, which backed me into a corner of having to defend myself.

It was ugly.

Over the years I’ve heard God’s Spirit tell me to not get pulled into the middle of situations where I’m left having to defend myself. Situations where I instinctively want to fight back, to attack. I’ve learned to remove myself from the “line of fire”. Sonetimes I have to ask Him—How??

How do I stop myself from being dragged in?

I’ve found directly confronting issues is the most effective way to resolve conflicts.

Sadly, in some situations, no matter how I try to confront issues, the people involved react as though I’m attacking them. There seems to be no separation of issue vs personal attack, no matter how I try to explain things. And I’ll find myself, again, backed into that corner of having to defend myself.

I don’t attack people.

I confront issues.

I wish communication was this easy thing.

When I was newly married, pregnant with my first child, I was given some wonderful, Godly advice I still strive very hard to stick to.

When in the tug-of-war of an argument, lay down my end.

As soon as I feel defensive, I know— I need to stop tugging. God never intended us to exert our own strength against one another in our relationships. Jesus should be our strength.

Sometimes laying down my end includes walking away. Sonetimes it means just waitng for the dust to settle so calm, rational resolution can happen.

Sometimes it means I don’t return fire with an argument— instead I tell my husband I love him, and I kiss him. (True story.)

Sometimes it means I have to pray through the uncomfortable inability to get resolution.

In the end, when I stand before Jesus, I want so much to be able to say I valued the relationships—the people— He has given me more than I valued appearances of being “right”.

I’d like for others to value me the same! Not to be directed by opinions of me or past mistakes, or infused by reactions to things misunderstood— with no option or ability for my clarification.

Situations throughout my life have evolved instead because the focused value was placed more on a mistake or failure than on me as a person! I have a failed first marriage that exhibits that! I’ve had to block people, or shut them out of my life, because where I failed or misstepped is their valued focus. I am not. How I feel or what I am going through is not.

That weight can be crushing.

I think that’s what makes my road with Jesus so very narrow— maneuvering the snares and pitfalls Satan loads into situations where God’s instructions for us through His Word and His Spirit (as well as Jesus’ example for us) aren’t closely adhered to.

Unfortunate things happen all the time. Misunderstandings happen all the time.

Confronting issues should be the focus, I believe.

Attacking one another should not.

What would Jesus do?

How would Jesus respond?

Would He allow Himself to be backed into a corner, and just be attacked?

He removed Himself, went off by Himself. Except when it was time for Him to pay the world’s sin’s cost.

Jesus valued the relationships He built up with His disciples— His family, His friends.

He valued people.

I’ve never seen in Scripture where Jesus quickly jumped to conclusions. I’ve never seen Him react, close off listening, and just do whatever was easiest and quickest.

Oh— but I sure do that!

I am woefully deficient in behaving like Jesus. Thankfully I can talk with Him— about everything (no matter how difficult, embarrassing, self-loathing, or angering it is!!). I can resolve things, and I can walk steadier— in His strength— on my narrow road.

God’s Will is the goal— live as peacefully as possible with others.

Ultimately peace through God’s grace and Jesus’ strength, is my goal.

That peace that surpasses all of my understanding.

God turns everything around for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.

The stuff that He turns around shouldn’t be the focus, it’s what trips me up every time.

Jesus should always, at all times, be my focus.

Treating others the way Jesus treats me should always, at all times, be the focus of my intentions, at the center of my heart.

People are so important to Jesus that He died for us all!

People need to be that important to us, as well.

introspection

Be Anxious For Nothing— But How??

jem

I feel stressed.

While this isn’t a new thing, the intensity of this feeling is more than usual.

So, while I know the Bible instructs me to “Be anxious for nothing…” I am struggling right now with that very issue.

Circumstances far beyond my control.

Worry over family and friends.

Plowing a new course for my future career.

Weight loss and emotional healing bringing old buried memories and reactions to the overly-sensitive surface…

Anxiety hasn’t been an obstacle to me in decades. But there it is, staring me down.

Deep breath in, let it out slowwwww…

God is already there, plowing my path for me.

He’s got me.

He’s always got me.

I can do this.

One step at a time.

Breathing through the waves of panic that threaten to soak through my resolve.

“Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:6-7 NKJ

Instead of giving in to anxiety, frustration or fear, I will pray. I will thank God for everything, because without Him, I couldn’t appreciate the good that comes from painful, hard times.

God has a purpose, God has a plan— for me. He will never fail me, He will never abandon me.

My first prayer is for God to help me surrender all that anxiety and everything tangled up in it, to Him.

All of it.

There is no sense holding on to that. It does not contribute anything beneficial to my life or my emotions.

Time to step away from the anxiety, and let God’s peace flood my mind, my heart, my body and my spirit.

🎵 “All to Jesus, I surrender all to Him I freely give;
I will ever love and trust him,
in his presence daily live.
I surrender all, I surrender all,
all to thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.“🎵

Walking With God

My Testimony

jem

I’m stepping out of my comfort zone to share my story of what God has done, and is still accomplishing in me. I’ll be honest— I’m recognizing a deep, breath-constricting anxiety as I set out to share this here. I have family that won’t want me to talk about it, some who still don’t even believe what I experienced. Fear or worry about what they think or feeling like I have to defend myself, have been my boundaries in the past. Being called a liar, or treated like a liar has been an anxiety-riddled prison. So much so, that just speaking in normal settings about everyday things triggers an anxiety that I “talked too much”.

If you’ve read any of my previous posts here, or if you know me personally, you may already know bits and pieces— or large chunks— of the circumstances that started out as my mold. The mold that God broke when I surrendered it all to Him as I finally hit my rock bottom, and circumstances, mistakes, and unGodly beliefs tried to crush me.

The picture I chose above is significant to me. So many things I can glean from it that describe my personal experiences. The water can represent so many things, but I see it as God wearing through the hard places to forge a path forward for me to follow. My path has been rocky, twists and turns threatening to cause me to get lost or stuck, or even follow a wrong path. Before God— it was just rock. No path. No safe place for me to set my feet, no clear guidance. No water.

My story starts with me as a child. Let me preface this with— this is not in anyway a “bash” attempt. Things happened that were out of my control— like everyone has had happen to some degree. For me, mine were devastating. Through them God made me a strong person, deep rooted in Him. He has proven Himself to me over and over, so many times.

He is trustworthy.

He is Worthy to take the reigns of my life and be in control.

As a child, I don’t remember much. There are so many “holes” in my memory.

My dad struggled with mental illness, sometimes mis-diagnosed or misunderstood as he was a guinea pig of the VA. Had they understood more and accurately diagnosed him, maybe things wouldn’t have been as bad as they were.

Parts of my childhood are like memories of terrifying nightmares. Not all of it. We had fun family times, with lots of laughing and fun family vacation times.

Over the years I have gotten to where the nightmare things are being forgotten. I find myself wanting to cling to the good things.

I’m not going to get into the ptsd-invoking events, except to say I was in an abusive environment. My dad was a bit of a Jekyll-Hyde type— either angry/enraged, or joking and fun. He had bouts of depression, in there as well.

I never felt that security of stability with him. I was terrified of making him angry, or being spanked by him. I never felt loving type of discipline from him— he beat me.

At some point the sexual abuse started, but I can’t remember much about when. There are things he told me, and things he never told me. The most recent time he addressed it, about 15 years ago, he told not me, but everyone else in a mental hospital community room. Things I did not know. My husband heard it.

I was beyond devastated. Embarrassed and humiliated.

My mom tried to say what he said probably wasn’t true— but no way either of us could know for sure. That feeling of not even knowing what happened to me, or for how many years, is crushing. My dad saying those things about me— proudly— to strangers and my husband isn’t something she could even begin to understand.

That night I went back to my parent’s house and at the prompting of The Holy Spirit, I wrote my dad a letter, telling him that I forgave him.

When I think back, age 10 is where most of the memories start.

That’s when the eating disorder began.

We started spending summers living with my mom’s parents. My grandma poured her love into everything meal or dessert she made.

I needed love.

I ate so much “love”, I gained a bunch of weight the summer before. My dad made fun of me. We already had a dysfunctional relationship— making fun of me was salt in my deep emotional and mental wounds.

He was so vocal about women.

So, determined to not be made fun of or noticed, really, food became a type of poison, and my RN grandma had a poster on her bathroom door for what to do if I ate something poisonous— throw it up.

It started out once or twice a day. Then turned into food avoidance.

Over the next 10 years it developed into all-consuming rituals, every meal, every time I ate.

I am not going to regress back into describing in detail those rituals.

God has delivered me from those rituals, and from that “poisoned” mentality.

After a couple of years, it developed into more of a Bulimia, as God brought someone into my life that helped encourage me to eat.

By the time I turned 20, I was purging so much I started throwing up significant amounts of blood.

One particularly bad time, I called the ER and told the nurse I threw up blood. In the discussion, I mentioned making myself do that, and she said to me, “ Stop doing that!”

Let me tell you— that was so powerful!

In all those years, I never considered I could just choose to stop.

So, I stopped.

I never did it again.

In that time-frame, I was assaulted. Then I married someone who abused me, neglected me then raped me in my sleep.

And so, while the purging and rituals had stopped, my binging habits had not. Reaction to trauma made that all worse.

I gained weight.

Most would view that as bad. But here’s where I believe God’s deliverance began—

Fat did not kill me!

It was not the worst thing that could happen to me.

In fact, I began to find a comfort in men not paying attention to me.

My husband didn’t like that I gained weight. He was mean. He made humiliating jokes about me to our families. He did things that threatened my life. Then, he divorced me.

Devastated as I was— God saved my life, and then my soul through that divorce.

I turned to God.

I had missteps. My mind was still very much in the world, I didn’t understand God’s ways being different, or transforming.

Eventually I walked away from everything and every person I knew. After seeking God for His direction for my life, for weeks, I became convinced He was making a way for me by joining the military.

I enlisted, I traded my first military assignment to move overseas.

I completely left everything, and put my trust in God.

That was 28 years ago.

He provided me with a new husband. He promised and provided me with a beautiful daughter. He gave me 3 sons.

I never returned to the rituals of eating disorders.

I did however become a food and sugar addict.

God is in the process of both delivering and healing me from this, while raising me up to help others walk in His freedom.

It’s been a long time since I’ve felt hope or excitement.

I have all hope, and I am so excited for the future path God is continuously carving out for me now.

My feet are on The Rock.

http://www.public-domain-image.com (public domain image)
Walking With God

Change— What’s In My “Pocket” Of Life

jem

If you could see my spirit, it might very well look a lot like this.

I think mostly scars now, not so many cracks.

So many scars are evidence of where God has healed me throughout my lifetime. Wounds that used to fester have been healed by His Word, His kept promises, His love.

My view has been changing over my life. I used to wish for things during the painful times. I couldn’t see any sort of horizon, or even light at the end of a tunnel. I was crushed down, my spirit and mind beaten down with words of hatefulness and destruction.

My mirror was the opinions, the words, the treatment of those I loved and trusted.

That taught me I should hate myself. I was less than nothing.

Less than nothing.

All throughout my life, God has whispered into my spirit that He loves me.

That became my strength, my grounding.

God created me. He loves me!

He helped me find my pathway forward, walking with Him.

He has never left me, never forsaken me, never turned His back on me.

No matter how much I thought, or actually may have, deserved it.

One careful step at a time. Each step slowly gaining confidence— not in myself, but that I can fully trust Him.

No person on this earth can compare to what God has done.

He provides through people, more now than ever in my past.

But He provides. He is my source.

Looking at the picture above, it’s easy to think I’m weak and about to fall apart.

Those scars where God has healed me— those strengthen the cracks.

I have physical scars, some have faded, some have not.

In my weakness, often caused at the hands/mouths/actions of those I’ve loved and trusted, Jesus has become my strength.

Each time He begins leading me down a new narrow path, I start out cautiously, and then my confidence in Him grows stronger as I continue on the path with Him.

God used this song so many years ago, the words wrapped so perfectly around my life and my heart. He used this to breathe life into me where fear would try to suffocate me.

Even when I feel alone, or I actually am physically alone dealing with awful things— I know I am never alone. He never lacks understanding, compassion, gentleness, patience— never.

He is all I need! He chooses where He provides through, He picks the people in my life, He has never let me down.

Because I understand His ways are higher and better than any other way— I can always be at peace in my heart. I can demonstrate compassion, even when my humanness tries to get in the way. I can demonstrate patience, because I understand just how freeing that is as He has continuously covered me with His patience.

I can stand strong in Him, even when the world only sees my weaknesses and failings.

I am walking a newer path with him. I have demons to face down, and fear that will again try to suffocate me. But He is my Rock. He is my Confidante— sometimes my only confidante.

Things are looking up as I continue to look up.

Walking With God

My Year Evaluation

jem

Happy New Year— 2022!!!

This past year has been a year of lots of t-words for me— transcendence, transition, transformation, timing, and now here is my testimony.

There were so many difficulties last year, and I had moments of overwhelming stress.

There are things I and others have been seeking God for, on my behalf, for more than a decade!

Things in my own personal world seemed upside down, far from where I believe God wants them to be.

My oldest son moved far away, I don’t think I have even fully processed that yet.

Then all of a sudden God provided the exact help I needed when I had nearly given up hope.

The heaviest burdens, after a time of working through them, were fully lifted off of me!!

I had seriously all but given up that God would ever help me with what felt like a crushing weight on my mind, my heart, my body and my strength.

I am now in the middle of a transformation that I do believe happened transcendentally, in God’s perfect transitional timing.

It is not completed— yet.

Stages are complete.

Step by step, in increments some may not even recognize as “progress”— I am continuously moving forward.

I am never, ever going back.

Never.

My mind is made up.

My heart knows what it wants.

God’s Spirit is leading me.

I have packed up my baggage and donated or thrown it out.

I am embracing the newness God has flung the door open wide to.

There is no walking back— there is only moving ahead— sometimes at my own pace, sometimes with a gentle nudge from God that encourages me out of my comfort zone.

I thank God. Without Him, I’d still be where I was this time last year— or worse.

Purpose of Church, Walking With God

Grace and Forgiveness— My Expectations of ALL Christians

jem

Have you ever dealt with a Christian who refuses to demonstrate Grace, refuses to extend forgiveness?

I have.

That sting is worse than the death of a loved one.

Jesus was so clear when He told the Disciples that if we don’t forgive others, Father God will not forgive us.

This is such a big deal for our Salvation.

Enormous.

Eternal Life altering.

I believe this is the main obstacle causing the need for us to walk in fear and trembling down our narrow road towards our Salvation.

The two defining trademarks of Christianity are Grace and Forgiveness.

Grace and Forgiveness are the refreshing water our spirits thirst for. They cut through the hardest of hearts like water cuts through and wears down the hardest, sharpest of rocks.

No other religion practices those two things. When practiced carefully, they create this amazing domino effect of all the other attributes of Christ becoming part of our spiritual growth to become more like Him.

For ALL have fallen short— God forgives everyone who becomes appreciative and accepting of His forgiveness through the death, resurrection, and then Ascendance of Jesus.

God Forgives.

God demonstrates Grace.

Who are we that we would refuse to do the same?

I will not remain where Grace and Forgiveness are not freely demonstrated towards me from anyone claiming to be Saved.

Why?

Because that is so toxic, that puts my own Salvation at risk. That affects my relationship with God— because in my anger I may fall into that same sin of unforgiveness.

I choose to walk in Grace.

I choose to walk in Forgiveness.

I know my true brothers and sisters by their own fruit of Grace and Forgiveness.

Not vindictiveness.

Not hardness of heart.

Not mean spiritedness.

Grace.

Forgiveness.

There is a sin that grieves the Holy Spirit.

I believe that sin is Unforgiveness.

It sure grieves my own spirit.

As much as someone has hurt me, and i have had many, many opportunities to practice forgiveness to unforgiving, ungracious Nonbelievers— but lack of Grace and Forgiveness from a Believer is what I willfully choose to walk away from.

When Grace and Forgiveness are extended to me in a Christlike manner, I will return. Until then— I have to protect my own Salvation with fear and trembling to keep myself from my own heart hardening in Unforgiveness.

Then that peace that passes by all earthly understanding of how peace is even possible, will flood my soul.

I pray that same peace will flood their soul, cut through hardness of heart, wash away jealousy and disappointment— and heal what I believe God wants to make beautiful.

🎵”I walk Salvation’s road, with fear and trembling Your way borne as my own As Christ is formed in me If ever I should lose my way If ever I deny Your grace Remind me of the price You paid Hallelujah I’ll live in remembrance…”🎵 Remembrance— Hillsong

Purpose of Church

Believers Meetings

jem

What is the purpose of “church”?

I’ve heard church described as a group of sinners. Saved by grace, yes, but emphasis on sinners.

If we are people who claim to follow after Jesus, shouldn’t we instead refer to ourselves as repentant sinners saved by grace?

Repentant.

Having turned away from the sin that has affected every person ever on earth— except for Jesus— God in the flesh.

This is why someone still blinded and bound by sin shouldn’t be a role model in a Believers Meeting. Because it’s meant to be for repentant followers of Jesus. That’s not to say everyone shouldn’t be welcomed. But, there has to be an open repentance standard for role models and leadership.

We may not like it, but God’s House needs to have strong Believers who choose Him and turn away from the sin that caused Him so much pain and anguish in our place.

He died the death we deserved, and then He provided the way to turn away from that sin, and is offering each one of us Eternal Llfe— with Him.

We lack God’s love.

We lack compassion.

We lack surrendering to accountability to one another.

We lack so many Godly things explained to us in Scripture.

Every person falls short, and messes up. But— isn’t the entire point that we are repentant, and we turn away from the sin that plagues us?

If we embrace the actual sin, what is the purpose?

Loving individuals who are still bound up by sin **should be** the natural actions of repentant Believers.

But— loving them doesn’t mean we should embrace and cater to the sinfulness.

It also doesn’t mean we exact judgement against anyone. If anything, true repentance should humble us, while reminding us of the sinful muck and mire God dragged us out of.

God’s Word specifically tells us Jesus came to set the captives— those held captive by sin— free. He came to seek and to Save the lost.

He did not come to condemn the world, but to Save it.

God so loved the world that He gave us His one and only Son…

Harsh judgment is going to come at us from people who don’t agree, but it’s not our place to reflect judgment in return.

We won’t win souls for Jesus if we don’t treat others as God expects.

The first step is humbling ourselves in repentance and acknowledging that there is nothing new under the sun.

God is not surprised by anything.

Nor is He ashamed of the lost.

Neither should we be ashamed.

Here’s the thing— since Jesus died on the cross, was buried, and rose again— conquering both sin and death— why do we focus so much on sin?

Kindness, compassion, gentleness— praying for someone bound in sin is the fruit of a repentant heart.

Our focal point needs to be Jesus.

Not any specific sin.

By the same token, anyone who calls themself a Believer and Saved, needs to repent of everything Jesus conquered through His death on the cross.

For the Believer, church is about becoming more like Jesus— sinless. The only way to achieve that is by rejecting the sin that we sometimes try or want to justify.

There is a difference in the life and heart of someone who **turns sin away**, and tells it “No! Jesus has a better way for me, better plans for my life! I can do ALL things through Christ Jesus, Who is my strength.”

Believers Meetings are for empowering us to do that.

What life has taught me

God’s Will?? I Think Not!

jem

Apparently there is this school of thought, some believe supported by Scripture, that being the unfortunate victim of abuse is “God’s Will”.

Obviously they don’t understand how wrong of a conclusion they have come to. Nor do they get the depth abuse reaches into the spirit, the soul and the foundation of someone deeply traumatized by abuse.

Never once was I drawn to God because of a comparison between my earthly abuser and my Creator.

Never.

No, it was not God’s Will for my dad to psychologically abuse me! I am, to this very day, still dealing with the affects of him telling me he hated me and wished I’d never been born, coupled with how I was just always in the way.

No, it was not God’s Will for my dad to physically, sexually abuse me. I despise what he did, so much, I developed eating disorders to try to purge it out of my system! He violated my trust, my innocence— my body!

No, it was not God’s Will to witness his guinea-pigged drugged-up confused mindset that had him convinced he was like God, and loved my mom so much he had to kill her— tried to kill her.

No.

My God does not Will sin’s ugliness into anyone’s life.

God does not willfully direct sin to deeply traumatize people.

God allows many things, but He does not Will them to happen.

I have never had a healthy relationship with my dad, or any kind of redeeming father-like relationship with anyone.

In my life I have felt a desperate need for someone to accept me and just be part of my life as a mom, dad or sibling type.

That hasn’t been something anyone has been willing to do.

That has been what has driven me closer to God.

Not the abuse, not a comparison.

The lack of those relationships.

I have given up on anyone within the church stepping into that kind of role in my life.

I have never given up knowing God will fill that lack with His love, His acceptance, His delight in me.

His Character is defined all throughout Scripture. And, while He has directed harsh judgement against some by directing those obedient to Him to carry out that judgement in Old Testament times—

Never once do I see Him telling a father to molest his daughter.

Never once do I see Him telling a father to tell his children how much he hates them and wishes God never created them.

Never once.

Reality Check, Strong Woman

Managed

jem

My eyes are opening.

At least, they are trying to open.

They’ve started to open before, but then I shut them. Again.

Everything on the surface looks fine, looks good even.

But then something happens, and they start to open again.

In the past, just as they are beginning to focus, to recognize…

I am lulled back to sleep.

This time, I’m staying awake. I’m rubbing my blurry eyes so I can focus more clearly.

I’m making out a shape with some color..

I see…

I see control.

I am recognizing when I make any kind of decision without it being discussed and approved, I provoke the frustration and anger that guard control.

When I start to walk in my own decision making, and I begin to feel like my “old” self again, it creates an unbalance in the control system.

As soon as I begin to relax, to just enjoy, being refreshed and confident naturally— the beast begins to wake up, cranky from lack of control.

I see it now. Clearly. With eyes that are awake.

I recognize it.

I see the prison it has created.

It’s not unpleasant.

I’m not unprovided for.

But I’m not free.

My confidence is challenged.

I’m not encouraged to be at my best.

In fact, I recognize I am actually encouraged to not be my best.

I am often alone.

I am often drained of “will” power, exhausted, by reactions.

This is my own doing, for allowing this to overcome me.

The things that energize me are discouraged— subtly, yet effectively.

Being able to just relax and be myself is subverted by the lag of distraction, and the oh so subtle injection of unresponsive disapproval .

A hesitancy to respond.

An obvious attempt to squelch anticipation or even excitement.

Like a bug being squished as it’s headed in a specific direction with an intended purpose.

That’s my ability to make plans without lengthy discussion, or simply do something spontaneously and un-dissected.

My abilities are bogged down by lack of attention or acknowledgement.

My accomplishments are overlooked, or even torn down.

I have taken the path with the least friction, and just laid everything down— because— what’s the point?

But now I have my focus on it.

I see it.

The beast of control will be challenged, openly.

I want my “me” back.

I want my confidence back.

I want all of the appreciation, encouragement, and full support I’ve poured in to now be reciprocated.

I’m not ok with being managed.

Not anymore.

Ephesians 5:13-14 “But all things become visible when they are exposed by the light, for everything that becomes visible is light. For this reason it says, “Awake, sleeper, And arise from the dead, And Christ will shine on you.”

God's Heart, The Past

You Saw Me First

jem

If I could describe my life as a mash-up with how God has always been there, it would go something like the following:

Accidents, mishaps and hospital ER trips— Your protective Hand was covering me, keeping me safe from far worse.

Deepest loneliness, hurts and deep-seated rejections— You’ve always accepted me, held me close to Your heart of hearts.

You are the only One Who has truly loved me. The only One Who has consistently been there through everything.

There in my happiest times, rejoicing with me.

With me in the sad times— comforting me in Your arms of perfect Love.

My northern star, the compass of my heart…. You are the voice that calms the storm inside me
Castle walls that stand around me
All this time, my guardian was You It’s Always Been You Phil Wickham Who stood with me in the fire?
It was You, it was always You
Who pulled me out of the water?
It was You, it was always You
And who carried me on their shoulders?
It was You, I know it’s You, You

You have never born false witness against me, have always encouraged me through Your Word and that still small voice speaking to my heart of hearts.

You have lifted me up, You have had my back. You have been my Guide to get out of the muck and the mire threatening to suffocate the life out of me, draining me of the will to fight, the will to live.

It’s Always Been You.

It’s only been You.

So Will I Hillsong United. You chased down my heart
Through all of my failure and pride
On a hill You created
The light of the world
Abandoned in darkness to die.

If the stars were made to worship so will I
If the mountains bow in reverence so will I
If the oceans roar Your greatness so will I
For if everything exists to lift You high so will I
If the wind goes where You send it so will I
If the rocks cry out in silence so will I
If the sum of all our praises still falls shy
Then we’ll sing again a hundred billion times

The sum of my life is simply— You’re the One who never leaves the one behind.

4 Luke 15:4-7 “What man among you, if he has a hundred sheep and has lost one of them, does not leave the other ninety-nine in the open pasture and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it?5 And when he has found it, he puts it on his shoulders, rejoicing. 6 And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, because I have found my sheep that was lost!’ 7 I tell you that in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous people who have no need of repentance.

I am that one.

Christian Thoughts, Walking With God

He’s With Me Through It All

jem

Imagine this is a picture of God’s hand— catching all of our tears (Psalm 56:8), Holding our hand (Isaiah 41:13), pouring His grace, His mercy out over us (1 Timothy 1:12-17)— within our reach, in His grasp (Acts 17:27).

Imagine His hand designing every part of us, every cell’s information center, every detail from the tiniest strands of Laminin to the color of our hair and eyes. (Jeremiah 18:6), (Isaiah 64:8) (Isaiah 66:2)

His hand— that shelters us (Ezra 8:21-23), heals us as He applies His perfect Heavenly healing balm upon our hearts (2 Chronicles 30:12), our eyes (Matthew 26:64), our wounds… (Revelation 1:17) (Exodus 15:26) (Psalm 107:20) (Jeremiah 30:17) (Jeremiah 17:14)

His hand places us (Ezekiel 37:1), directs us ( (139:10), supports us (Psalm 18:35), it beckons us towards Him (John 14:6) fulfilling His purpose for us (Psalm 138:8) (Jeremiah 29:11), warns us to stop what we are doing and turn back to Him. (Psalm 31:15) (1Chronicles 4:10) (Daniel 9:15)

It’s His hand that holds us (Isaiah 41:13-14) (Ecclesiastes 9:1) and keeps us safe (Isaiah 41:13) and keeps us from being snatched from Him. (John 10:28-29)

His hand gives us the opportunity to humble ourselves so in His timing He might exalt us. (1Peter 5:6-7)

It’s His hand that upholds us. (Isaiah 41:10) (Psalms 63:8)

His hand delivers us. (Psalm 138:7)

He has us inscribed on the palms of His hands! (Isaiah 49:16) Regardless of where you stand in the tattoo debate— think about this culture of tattoos, all the pretty (or not so pretty), creative designs humans come up with and want to display on their bodies— for all the world to see. God— Who created everything— has us inscribed on His hands!

All throughout Scripture we read about His hand executing justice on the behalf of very imperfect people. (Ezra 8:21-23)

And that’s just His hand(s)!

Along with His hand, is His attention. His focus. His love.

We have the attention of The Creator of every universe, every planet, every living being!

The imagination of our loving God is on full manifested display for us to witness, across the sky, and across our world!

The One Who’s thoughts are so much higher than we can ever reach or attain, has His thoughts on us, even shares them with us.

Being reminded of these things is humbling.

How is it possible to forget He’s holding me in the shadow of His hand? When I’m overwhelmed by the enormity of circumstances affecting, over-shadowing my life, there is something that is far greater in size and strength.

God’s hand.

He is with me through it all.

Even when I am aware of my unworthiness. Even when I think what I’ve said or done— or not done— makes me unqualified for His protective, loving hand.

All of us have experienced the same things, in differing degrees, the past year. Add to that individual, unique experiences— it’s overwhelming when our focus rests on that.

Much like those pictures with a hidden picture we can only see when we let go of focusing on what we recognize— God’s hand comes into focus when we stop looking at everything else.

God's Heart, Walking With God

I Remember Who I Was

jem

Have you ever watched someone restore a damaged painting? I find it fascinating, the level of dedication, determination and affection the one restoring it demonstrates. The knowledge of every painted stroke, the understanding of what and how— tedious work, for sure.

Have you ever heard a song that grabs your soul’s focus almost immediately?

This song, Thank You Jesus For The Blood , has done that to me, from the very first line.

“I was a wretch. I remember who I was. I was lost, I was blind, I was running out of time.”

I instantly remembered.

In the midst of everything I have going on in my life, everything I am struggling with, all I am endeavoring to push through and overcome, I was instantly transferred right back to that moment my soul heard Him call my name and tell me to turn and follow Him.

My life was the messiest of messes. I was being crushed against my rock-bottom.

He saw me. He reached into my soul, He called my name. My name. He knew my name.

He gently helped me to my feet. He patiently cleaned off all the smudges, He worked out all the mars in the clay of my foundation. He tended carefully, lovingly to the tears, the worn spots from the misuse, the abuse, of others who didn’t know how to properly care for me.

He looked into the depth of my soul, found all that is of value to my Creator. He applied the Blood to every detail.

He Saved me for Eternity, He rescued me with the redemptive relationship no one on earth deserves.

I haven’t deserved such Divine, Perfect attention.

He gave it to me freely, liberally— permanently.

I never have to go back. I have continuously walked forward. Sometimes I’ve crawled, and at times I have danced with Him.

My beautiful Savior.

It’s beyond just His love for me.

He sees me— all of me. He knows me better than anyone ever can.

introspection, Reality Check, Walking With God

Puppet Strings— Opinions Of Others

jem

We all have some point where we worry about the opinion of someone else— to some degree.

The affects of that worry can be debilitating! How do we react to negative comments from those we value the opinion of?

Because of our documented-through-the-ages reactions to opinions— the enemy of our soul uses this to create stumbling blocks in our intended path. When I intentionally go in a specific direction, especially if it’s to bring honor to God, there is sometimes a stumbling block that causes me to trip, lose my balance, stub my toe, stumble, and sometimes, to fall.

Often we are so caught up in appearances, as well as our reactions of embarrassment, shock, and/or anger, we miss that this is a device and tactic employed by God’s enemy, the same enemy of humanity. We all know who that is. The serpent, and all the names attached throughout history to identify this evil entity.

What we don’t often understand is, we can be set free from the manipulation. We can cut the puppet strings. We don’t have to live in the tangled web of fear of opinions of others.

When something happens that causes fear to rise up— say this with me— “So What?” “Who Cares?” “Why Should I Let This Stop Me?” “God, Show Me The Truth.”

This is how we stand back up, brush the dust off of ourselves— those tiny, weightless particles of the opinions of others, with the chameleon affect of feeling heavy—brush that dust off, and start walking again. With purpose. With intention. Letting the fiery darts meant to burn us up and out, bounce off instead.

Because the only opinion that actually matters is God’s. In fact— His opinion is just that— fact. Truth. With no distortions. Since He fearfully and wonderfully formed us within our mothers, in secret, then we are His garden of fearfully, wonderfully made blooms.

This is why the enemy of our souls, the enemy of God, tries desperately to plant seeds of doubt, skepticism, fear, concern, worry, hatred— everything contrary to the fruit and nature of our loving Gardener, into the soil of our paths and the garden of our life. Because God tends to us and we bloom into beauty and life only He can create— empowered with His Spirit, nurtured and cleansed by the very, Holy blood of His one and only Son— Jesus. Our enemy wants to crowd that out, to infest us with doubts, skepticism and fear.

We are all His creation, made carefully, delicately, lovingly— by His hand, nurtured and protected by His hand, watered by His Spirit, cleansed by the blood of Jesus that sin can never corrupt. Ever. It is forever, eternally, so powerfully clean of sin— it actually washes sin away into nonexistence because of forgiveness and grace.

So— we can walk— puppet string free— from everything contrary to God’s Word. His Word is alive, His Word lives within us and has always dwelt amongst us. Always.

Isaiah 40:30-31 Though youths grow weary and tired, And vigorous young men stumble badly, Yet those who wait for the LORD Will gain new strength; They will mount up with wings like eagles, They will run and not get tired, They will walk and not become weary. NASB

This blog post was inspired by https://cheriewhite.blog/2020/10/16/a-letter-to-my-teenage-self-2/ parts 1,2 and 3.

Strong Woman, Walking With God

Cycle of Frustration

jem

The human ability to adapt to most situations and changes, is astounding. Even more-so is the ability to overcome— to beat, win, conquer overwhelming circumstances.

There are an infinite number of human-interest stories about people who beat the odds— and often God is credited for a person’s ability to do what our minds consider to be impossible.

I personally believe God should always be credited. God created every individual with the ability to focus with determination. God often allows us to be in situations where that is necessary. He put within every form of His creation the instinct to survive— to fight to live.

We see that all throughout nature. Butterflies struggle to be released from their chrysalis womb. It’s often been noted that if a human feels compassion and tries to help them get out, they can get damaged and even die. Human compassion most often lacks understanding of the necessary process for their survival.

Birds push their young from their nests to activate their instinct to fly.

Humans often feel the same sort of desire towards our offspring, but the difference lies in the dynamic of personal relationship between adult and young adult, as well as extenuating circumstances. Every situation is unique within the human relationship system. Background extending through generations, environments, financial situations, educational opportunities, personal experiences, directional purpose… an endless number of variables and belief systems.

The enemy to personal achievement is getting ourselves stuck in a perpetual cycle of frustration. Once we get into that, it can seem impossible to get out. Sometimes we stumble into that, sometimes we’re born into or placed into it, completely outside of our control. So, we adapt. We do what we believe becomes necessary for our survival.

Fight, or flight.

Sometimes the hard decision is to stand our ground and fight.

Sometimes we “feel” the need to fight, but we’re misdirecting our energy towards what looks very much like it should be our target focus. But, like trying to box against our own shadow, it ends up exhausting and depleting us of necessary energy, even robbing us of relationships.

Many marriages break apart in divorce because one or both individuals feel directed towards fighting against one another. Many marriages could be salvaged if only each person realized their spouse is not their enemy. Many marriages could become stronger, if instead all that energy being used in fighting each other could instead be directed towards fighting the invisible enemy breaking them apart.

The definition of invisible enemy is unique to every marriage (though I believe the exact same force is behind it)— but the result is often the same thing— trying to inflict as much pain through anger and disappointment as possible.

Marriages become blurred “friendly fire” zones, convincing spouses each other has become the enemy. Fight or flight is often activated. Instead of fighting to protect the union of two individual souls— nasty destructive anger becomes a sharpened arrow that penetrates the bone and marrow of the marriage.

It’s not only marriages where this happens. Families step into this quicksand-type trap. Brothers and sisters, parents and children, cousins against cousins. Family is messy. It’s a solid ground for forgiveness to be planted and nurtured. Unfortunately the personal nature instead often turns it into a battleground.

I’ve found myself stuck in an awful, exhausting cycle of frustration. There have been occasional outside distractions of conflict— especially lately. There has been the threat of my own marriage becoming a battleground of destructive distractions and fiery darts.

It’s not been easy to lay down my own types of weapons, and surrender everything to God to “please help.” I’m not the same person, deep within my core, that I used to be. My instinct used to be to fight against anything that threatened to hurt me, and not flee from it, but to turn my back and walk away.

God has changed me. He’s opened up my understanding that His way has not been my way. His way is forgiveness, surrendering the hard stuff to Him, and allowing Him to bring the healing.

His way is far better than my way.

At the beginning of my year, on my birthday, I felt God speak into my spirit that He will strengthen me this year. If anyone reading this knows the history of me at all, you could understand that I believed He meant with my physical health. Since the birth of our last child, I’ve dealt with a weakness in my legs, I believe came about because in a moment of personal weakness I chose to have an epidural. Since the birth of my first child, 21 years ago, I’ve fought an increasingly tough battle against other health issues that doctors haven’t found a solid, treatable cause for.

Imagine my surprise that instead of my physical health being strengthened, the very foundation of my life nearly crumbled apart. Many things I had believed turned out to be far different.

God is strengthening me in ways I was so clueless about. But first— I had to ask Him to be my strength, to help me walk because my path was all but gone. Life blinded me, I needed Him to be my sight. I’m still trying to adjust my sight to what feels at times like this blinding darkness— you know, like when you’re eyes are used to some kind of lighting, and then suddenly it all gets shut down— and there is only an absence of light.

My understanding has a new grasp of Jesus being the Light of the world. I now better understand what it feels like to need Jesus to be my Strength. He’s taken my arm and is guiding me through, safely. He is my Shield. God’s Spirit gives me a comfort no other source ever could.

Now I am enabled to walk in a forgiveness that comes from outside of myself. A complete, and all-encompassing forgiveness that spreads a healing balm in every direction that it walks.

Love covers a multitude of sins.

Not covers-up. Not pretending the offense hasn’t been real or caused damage.

Covers. With a healing balm.

Throughout my lifetime, so far, I’ve been given ample opportunities to forgive some very deep-seated wounds.

I have been sinned-against, many times, in personally physical and emotional ways. Others I care deeply about have been sinned-against, and it’s been in my “nature” to want to pick up their offense.

Again I get to practice walking in forgiveness that the world tells me I shouldn’t extend.

I don’t belong to the world any longer.

I belong to Jesus.

His ways are far above what the world would have me practice.

People fail me. I thank God that He continues to never fail me.

1Cor 13:12– “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.”

Christian Thoughts, God's Heart, Walking With God

In The Way

jem

I was often told I was “in the way” by people who’s opinion mattered deeply to me, for a significant portion of my life. I had no reason to not believe them. So, I did all I could to move out of the way, whether physically or otherwise.

I assumed everyone thought this about me. I have lived most of my life trying to not be in anyone’s way.

My foundational understanding of myself has been flawed by believing that I’m just always in the way.

I was once told by one of my pastor’s that I was in God’s way and I needed to move out of it. You have no idea how that affected how I saw God at that point.

I still don’t trust anyone to “pastor” me.

Over the years I’ve thought about this phrase, and with God’s help, I’ve begun to turn it around into a positive.

The Way is what Believers in the past have called their group. Jesus is the way, the truth and the life. Jesus lives in me. I am in the way. But– I am not in the way, as being an obstacle.

The pastor who said that to me did not see me in my time alone with God, often prone before God, surrendering my life and my choices to Him.

That pastor was wrong.

In all those years before I accepted that he was wrong, I saw everything that I did or said as being in God’s way. I had no idea how to get out of God’s way, or what that even looked like.

I never felt like I could fit in anywhere, because no matter what I was blind to somehow being in the way.

I reacted by just removing myself. I can’t be in the way if I’m not there, right?

I was then told by that same pastor that I was in sin because I wasn’t at church everytime the doors were open– I was forsaking the gathering together of the saints…

How does one ever please someone who just sees what they think you are doing wrong?

God moved me out of that pastor’s way, relocating me to another area. But that criticism stuck.

How can I possibly ever get out of God’s way when He is everywhere?

Over the years, God has revealed that He does not see that about me. He has shown me that I have, in fact, been in His way. Going out of my way to obey His word, to demonstrate grace and forgiveness, to show compassion and love– I’m trying to do things in His way.

It’s amazing how much healing and reatoration can be released when God corrects wrong thinking.

Now I know– I am exactly where I need to be– in His way.

2 COR 10:5 “We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.”

God's Heart

Giving God What’s Broken

jem

In our culture of Christianity, it’s become easy to sing our promises and confessions of faith.

Do we follow through? When the service is over, do we reflect on the weighty words we’ve sung in praise, adoration and promise to our God?

I can’t say, with a clear conscience, that I have.

When I sing about surrendering it all to God, and beg Him in song to “take it all”, do I really know what I’m asking of Him— what I’m giving to Him?

Lately I have been playing Animal Crossing with my kids and husband. I have this neighbor— Buck— the “neigh”bor that annoys me the most. He’s brash, loud, yells in my character’s face, and he sneezed on her. I mean— the nerve! Lol! In real life, I wouldn’t want a neighbor like that. So, I’ve been trying to get him to want to move away. I give him boots, which he always hands back, saying he doesn’t want my trash.

My point in sharing that is— God *does* want our trash. He wants the worst parts of us— the things we dislike about ourselves, the stuff we hide from everyone else.

He wants our broken hearts. He wants our ugly, horrible thoughts. He wants that anger that seemingly comes out of nowhere. He wants those feelings that cause us to do exactly what we hate…

He wants our trash.

Because then He can make us better. He can make us stronger. He can repair the broken pieces of our hearts and lives. He can calm the storm that rages in our emotions. He can help us see things clearly, without worry, fear or distortion.

But, we have to freely give them to Him. He won’t just take them. He is never forceful with us.

He just wants to make us the best us we can be.

🎶All to Jesus I surrender

All to Him I freely give;

I will ever love and trust Him

In His presence daily live

I surrender all

I surrender all

All to Thee

My blessed Savior

I surrender all

All to Jesus I surrender

Make me, Savior, wholly Thine;

Let me feel Thy Holy Spirit

Truly knowing that Thou art mine

I surrender all

I surrender all

All to Thee

My blessed Savior

I surrender all

All to Jesus I surrender

Lord, I give myself to Thee;

Fill me with Thy love and power

Let Thy blessing fall on me🎶

introspection

Tough As Sand

jem

In the past, I thought of myself as a kind of diamond in the rough. But here lately, I realize I’m more a lump of soft coal that wishes it could be a diamond. Coal that is under the heaviest of pressure can, in part, become a diamond. In the past I’ve compared my life’s hardships as what coal experiences as it then becomes one of the very hardest substances known to mankind. Hard circumstances formed a hardened heart within me and a toughened, hardened exterior. I thought that was what I needed to protect myself, to make sure I could withstand more pressure from circumstances outside of my control.

Today I realized what I believed about myself may not even be the case— if it ever really was. God softened my hardened heart after I met my husband. He chipped away at that outer layer of toughness, like an emotional callous, and He took down the walls I had built up, brick by brick.

Nothing I do will protect me like God does. Walls trap the yuck inside, and keep the positive new things out. Before God fixed my old hardened heart, it could have easily been one of the rocks that praises God when people fail to.

It was that hard.

Today, I talked with someone about something I haven’t really thought deeply about in years! I’m not sure what I expected, but I left that conversation feeling as though all that hardness I still managed to cling to is crumbling away into dust. A trauma I experienced as a child re-emerged into my memories, and God has been so deeply at work within me, my reactions are different. My walls are gone. My heart feels soft, crushable and exposed.

I had myself so figured out before, I had every one of my reactions to my history carefully planned out. And now— I let go of my control. I feel like I’m just going to completely crumble as I now deal with old trauma mixed in with something new that was unexpected.

Maybe my life is a series of diamonds made from my spirit being crushed, over and over again. Maybe it’s all still just a lump of coal that has been broken into so many pieces, it more resembles charcoal powder. Maybe it’s a piece of coal used to keep the fire of difficult circumstances stoked at it’s hottest. Maybe it’s more like the ashes and residue left over.

I don’t know.

What I do know is— I am not the same person I started on this journey as. I thought situations had helped shape me. Turns out, maybe God has handled me differently than I believed He had, and maybe my opinions kept me blind to that. No trauma I have or ever will experience could possibly match what Jesus endured on the way to, and on, the cross. He was wounded for our (my) transgressions.

My walls and self protection have to crumble in order to allow His healing process to be thorough in me.

By His wounds I am healed.

Isaiah 53:5 “But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.”

introspection, reality

Forgive Them? Why??

jem

This is a recurring theme in my life, it seems. And not just little things— really big, hard issues. When things start to finally relax, suddenly it becomes necessary to exercise my forgiveness muscles again. I have lifted some of the heaviest issues with these muscles. I don’t see a need to flex them for vanity purposes— these are the necessary muscles for living a life that keeps me close to Jesus. They are the strength that is unseen, coming from an unseen force— Jesus, Who is my Mediator, my Intercessor— my reason for living. He keeps me continually moving forward.

I’ve been dealt some difficult cards throughout my life so far, most seem to fall under the category of betrayal. I don’t know if I can even categorize them all. The one thing they have in common, besides intense pain, is an attack on trust.

When the burden of offense against me is so heavy— a crushing weight, God reminds me that forgiveness lifts that burden off of me and puts it at the foot of the cross.

We can’t take anything with us when it’s our time to move on from earth— that includes the offenses and hurts from others. When we surrender them to Jesus, Who bore the crushing weight of every offense, past, present and future— we walk in the truest form of Grace and Mercy.

When we come face to face with the knowledge that Jesus said, while being crushed by all of the sins of this world— “Father, forgive them because they don’t understand”, we then have the tiniest of glimpses into what Jesus endured on that cross, in our place. He willingly surrendered to every betrayal we’ll ever experience.

That is why we forgive. Again. And again. And again…

“Then Peter came and said to Him, “Lord, how often shall my brother sin against me and I forgive him? Up to seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you, up to seven times, but up to seventy times seven…” Matt 18:21-22

An Honest Perspective

Back To My First Love

jem

Lately my time, one-on-one with God has been a spontaneous thing, which becomes steered by intention.

Something within me has changed. My perspective, or I guess my realization of the reliability— the consistent stability— of God with me. I never question His willingness to make sure I am taken care of. He has never wavered— though I know it’s certainly not because of anything I’ve earned nor do I dare think I deserve it.

This idea of “first love” is tumbling around in my brain today. Meditating in His Presence, saturating my spirit in the beautiful song Nothing Else, this idea of being taken back to my first love opens up a whole new reservoir of understanding for me.

“Take me back, take me back, take me back to my first love…” Can I say God has ever been my first love? I mean— honestly. Because, of course in “Christianese” that’s what we profess— that God is our first love.

As I just meditate on what that means to me, and question how exactly to get back to my first love when I cannot say that was God, I recognize what I need is to get back to the first recognition of my love for Him, and my first realization of His love for me.

My first time knowing this unique, soul-filling love that heals me, that refreshes me— that holds me close to Him.

“Take me back to my first love…” Take me back to that first moment the veil was torn from my understanding, that first glimpse my spirit had of You.

Take my heart back to being satisfied by sitting in Your Presence, back when things were simplified— back to the safety and comfort, like a newborn babe resting on its daddy’s chest— near to Your heartbeat. Because “Only You satisfy my heart… Nothing else will do— I just want You”

God's Heart

Inward Brokenness

jem

There is nothing like brokenness of spirit and a broken heart to open or change your view of things for previously unnoticed perceptions.

Like the words to songs. As I relived some memory lane through songs I haven’t heard since my most recent bout with brokenness, I realized I’m seeing things differently. Where before I sang them with the confidence of being enveloped by the Love of Christ, this time that same Love permeated into the chasm coated with reactionary numbness that tries to dull the pain. It caused a different reaction, a realization that now I understand more than before, and perspective that grants revelation to a new depth of understanding.

“Clothe me in white, so I won’t be ashamed…” has a deeper meaning to me now. In order for God to clothe me in white, my soul is bare before Him. He sees everything— nothing is hidden from Him. In the past I’ve known this. Now I more than know it— I experience what it really means— He sees me. He sees my deepest shame, my pain, where I have been abused and cast aside. He’s taking the outer garments I thought I had to wear that I believed covered me, but instead caused rejection of me— and He has clothed me in His acceptance. He’s thrown-out the old garments of being shamed, and He’s covered me in His forgiveness, His righteousness, His approval!! And though people may attempt to shame me— I will not be ashamed because I know Who I belong to— no matter what. The not being ashamed, that’s for me to live out. It has nothing to do with how anyone treats me or talks about me— I am not ashamed of who I am, because of Jesus.

When I sing “set a fire down in my soul, that I can’t contain, that I can’t control— I want more of You God, I need more of You God…” and I tell Him through singing that I want Him “…to pour it out…“ I understand that I need to be intentional about what I am asking Him to do— because He will give me more.

What will I do with the more that He gives to me?

When I sing about how “ I will dance, I will sing, to be mad (not angry FYI) for my King, and I will become even more undignified than this…” Baring my naked soul with unskilled dancing is the most vulnerable thing that I could do. I can boldly approach God’s throne of Grace in this manner— it should be an easy decision— casting off everything that weighs me down.

This is the way we should all be with Jesus. It’s a process we each get to face as individuals.

“…that, in reference to your former manner of life, you lay aside the old self, which is being corrupted in accordance with the lusts of deceit, and that you be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth.” Eph. 4:22-24

The likeness of God, is Salvation through Jesus. We have the promise of eternal life with God through Christ Jesus. As we lay aside the old life and choices, we begin to understand the why’s concerning God and His Word. The why’s are important, because without that understanding, we will never be able to really lay aside our opinions that don’t line up with Scripture, or forgive the person who may actually be trying to sin against us 7×77 times daily.

Strong Woman

Disadvantaged And Broken

jem

The shock is wearing off now. The sting of the jolt that rocked me is beginning to fade. Numbness that covered me fully, almost like a protective layer of clothing from the elements of harsh weather, is beginning to peel away now.

Ow!

It’s tempting to pull back from some of the most intense, penetrating pain I have ever experienced. But, I’m forcing myself to do what I have always tried to do– lean into it. Soon it will intensify to its strongest point, and then I’ll know the level I need to rise to to move beyond it.

I saw a storm coming, but to be honest– I expected a much different storm, in much different territory. This storm is familiar, but the territory is unexplored.

I’m at a disadvantage– probably more so than I have ever been. I don’t know if it’s the result of being cursed by those I should have been able to trust from a young age, or God just designed me and my personality to be much saltier and independently confident than many others. All I know is– support has almost never been something I could rely on. I’ve dealt with some of the most devastating things alone– often one-on-one with God but never much human support or understanding counsel. For a time I tried to fight for that, but realized it was an exhausting battle with little to no reward for all of my efforts.

As a result, now I find myself in this place where I wish I could have 1 solid person who can or will just walk with me through all the stages, emotions, and healing I will be pushing through as I continue to lean into the pain.

I’ve experienced first hand what so many often try to advise me of. I’m not one who can just settle under opinion or scrutiny, no matter how well-meaning the one doing it is.

I find myself looking for an equal. Not a counselor. Not a Pastor. Not a mentor. Not an advisor. Someone who doesn’t view me as a project or someone who needs their help. Because I know. I’ve already lived it. I’ve already made it to the other side. I’ve heard the voice of God calling out to me, directing my steps. I’ve experienced Jesus strengthening me.

I know how to get through this to that other side where healing will fully embrace me and restore– once again– what the locusts have destroyed.

I am confident in my direction, though I don’t see my path clearly yet. That will come into focus as I take each step forward. I’m not going to fall back– not with Jesus as my strength.

I just need/want someone who can and will walk with me, step with me– listen and respect me and my way of going through a process that I have already gone through successfully more than once. Someone proven that I can fully trust. That’s all. A trusted equal who has leaned into their own painful, devastating situations successfully.

For now, it will be me and Jesus, walking forward with steady, firm, intentional steps. Maybe God will provide me with a spiritual walking partner, too. But if He chooses not to– I’ll be ok. He’ll hold me up just as He always has.

“A Song of Ascents. I will lift up my eyes to the mountains; From where shall my help come? My help comes from the LORD, Who made heaven and earth. Behold, He who keeps Israel Will neither slumber nor sleep.” Psalm 121:1-4 NASB

Christian Thoughts, Purpose of Church

Christian Music VS All Music

jem

There is this notion embedded in our society that Christian music isn’t really good unless it fits in perfectly with what is currently popular. If you can tell it’s Christian then it’s cheesy, it’s less valued than anything not Christian.

What??

I have given in to this in the past, believing I should be embarrassed by any music not accepted by the “in” crowds of the world.

I have pondered this for awhile now, and here is the conclusion I have come to–

Christian music isn’t supposed to sound like everything else.

Christian music has a different focus and purpose. It has a different origin, and if it is written correctly– a completely different target audience of One.

It should always be excellence strived for, but most importantly– it should be Jesus-focused.

That’s why it’s Christian.

If we are embarrassed about a song those who don’t accept Jesus make fun of– are we also embarrassed about Jesus? Are we afraid or ashamed of being His follower– a Christian?

Christian music is supposed to be different. It’s supposed to stand out. It has infused power that no other music can match. It reaches the senses of our Creator– it teaches truth, it can break bondages, and God releases His healing through it. He illuminates truth through it. The music is inspired by Him and directed at pleasing Him.

We aren’t meant to mimic what is “acceptable” and try to fit in– we need to stand out! Shouldn’t our music, as well? So what if someone makes fun of it? There is a deeper, hidden meaning from those who reject the wisdom often injected into the lyrics. The music is inspired from a different area of our hearts and minds– an area only Christians can tap into– experience with God.

For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. Romans 1:16 NASB

reality

Expectation Meet-Up

jem

I’ve failed. Again. No big surprise. I’ve gotten pretty good at recognizing the game by now. I show up, with all of my imperfections– which are easily recognized at first glance– and I fail the test. You know– the test– where I do, or behave, or look like the labeled box I “should” just fit right in to. Where I “fall in line” with how everyone just is or just does– just sayin’…

The expectation test.

Although, I must admit, the anger I seem to detect lately is a new twist. I mean, surely I deserve whatever reaction the opinion of unmet expectations metes out, right? Surely I have no right to react or respond, or– heaven forbid– show any sort of weakness emotionally or physically.

I see the looks behind your eyes, I am aware of the reactions, and all it does is push me farther away.

Humanity has been such a disappointment to me most of my life– other than my own family. See there? You didn’t meet my expectations, either. I’ve expected grace, kindness, but have most often been meet with coldness, disappointment or indifference.

Thank God for Jesus.

Jesus didn’t meet most people’s expectations, either. In Him I find my own identity. In Him I find acceptance, and peace– comfort in all of my times of need. Where I am weak, He is strong. Where I am found lacking, He provides everything I need. When life just makes me more tired, when my body fights itself leaving me exhausted and frustrated– He carries me, He ministers to my spirit– giving me rest.

God made us to need other people. For myself– that remains to be a double-edged sword.

This is what has been on my heart this week.

Maybe God will choose to heal me this year. Maybe He will enable me to better fight back against that invisible enemy that attacks my body. Maybe He will just continue to draw me nearer to Him. I have learned to be content with where I am, no matter how He answers my prayers and needs– have you?

If I’m not angry about my personal fight, what gives anyone the right to be angry with me about how I manage my personal fight?

After nearly 51 years of life, I’m tired.

Be kind. Pray. Don’t put expectations onto me–I will never be able to meet them. You have not walked my path, experienced the things I have, or fought the fight I deal with daily. Maybe you’ve heard things about me, taken out of context. If so, you are adding opinion to heresay.

How is that Godly?

I expect to receive the grace of Christ from my fellow Believers.

Are my expectations too high for you?

An Honest Perspective

Vlogging- Venting Blog

jem

So– I know this will be shocking, but–

I have a pet peeve.

Actually, I have a few.

But the one I am being pounced on by right now is– well– I’ll call it flabbergasted.

I am biting my proverbial tongue pretty hard right now, in all honesty.

The ignorant gall of some people brings me to a boiling point I absolutely have to surrender to God.

First off, I will point out that as Christians, I believe it must be apparent we actually follow the example Jesus set before us. My focus now is on His example and His definition of being a friend.

The greatest lack I see today is selflessness. We have “self-awareness“, “self-assuredness“, “self-esteem“, “selfie“, “self-confidence“, “self-identification“– but not much selflessness.

When a husband returns from the memorial of their recently passed-away dad– that is NOT the time a wife should decide to pack up and move out– as an example of what my pet-peeve is ticked off about.

I don’t understand how when someone needs support the most, a helpmate can turn a cold shoulder and just walk away.

It looks exactly like what the enemy of our God and our soul would convince someone to do– especially in a marriage. Friendship- nurturing is at the root of that lack.

Maybe that’s just the appearance.

I really hope that’s the case.

Someone needs to write a book about the Art of Friendship Within Marriage.

introspection

Inside the Broken

jem

I’ve had this post bouncing around inside my head all day, wanting to just get out.

As a kid, I remember waking up in the middle of the night with a sudden inspiration for writing. It was usually a poem. I recall just looking at the words I had written down, marveling at the picture they painted–amazed that they had come out of me! I wasn’t a clever person. I wasn’t anything special. I was just a kid, a pre-teen, with no special writing training.

I was inspired. I believe, by God. He gave me what to write. No way I could come up with all those phrases and word pictures all by myself.

So, as a child, I was inspired.

I also suffered from PTSD. As a child.

Everyone has hardships in their life. Everyone has obstacles to overcome, people who don’t believe in them– situations beyond their control to push through.

Not everyone has the same things, situations– people– to push through.

For instance– not everyone has survived a cougar planting its teeth in their skull. I have survived this. I’ve lived to tell that story.

That’s a story I can freely share, an injury I can point to that people show interest in hearing about.

Those scars can be seen by anyone, even felt by someone who cannot see. Those scars filled in what was broken, they made it stronger, tougher. But, even though I’ve been healed, which is what produced my scars– the scars still ache sometimes, reminding me that where they provide more protection than the skin surrounding them, there is still weakness within them.

What’s broken is not the same as it was before, after it’s fixed or repaired.

That got me to thinking about the word “whole”. How it has the appearance of being complete. But– inside of the word “whole”, is hole. The word itself defies its own definition.

On the outside, we appear whole. In reality, we might be broken.

My hair hides my cougar bite scars.

I recently heard someone speak on healing, and he shared what I’ve known personally for quite some time. Our physical issues can be the fruit of having been wounded in our spirit, but never getting full healing.

Outside, we give the appearance of being whole. Inside– there is a hole that needs God’s healing touch.

Outside defies the reality of what’s inside. Because it’s not seen with eyes, or felt with physical touch.

Except– it is.

It’s often what is rejected, abhorred, resisted, and can cause hard-heartedness.

It can be defined as quirky, character flaws, or just out right unacceptable. It exposes the lack of compassion of a dying world.

I’ve sometimes wondered what we look like to God, Who sees all, knows all, and is everywhere all the time.

He sees what the appearance of wholeness attempts to hide or disguise.

He sees the brokenness.

Like the doctor who examined my wounds and wrapped my head to stop the bleeding and protect my wounds from infection. God has done this for my spirit.

But, that doesn’t mean there is no sensitivity to what caused the brokenness.

I don’t go out of my way to seek out mountain lions to embrace, to face my apprehension of cougars.

I don’t go out of my way to seek people who are abusive, who break the spirits of others, to form relationships with. And trust me– there are far too many of those types out there!

I have, for years, openly sought out the people who would not do that. In my doing so, I’ve found very few that make the time or effort to look past my quirks, personality deficiencies and obvious flaws. I don’t form friendships easily– never have, I’m guessing never will.

I have scars on the outside of my head, and scars on the inside of my head.

Sometimes they both ache.

Walking With God

Heart Strings

jem

I love rainbows. Besides being beautiful, they fascinate me. The origin and history are intriguing.

Besides the colorful streams that invoke a feeling of warmth, to me they are one of the many wonders of our world.

Rainbows and I also have a history. My very first memory in our shared history is seeing one outside my bedroom window. Inside my room, inside of my heart, it was raining– tears of sadness. I don’t remember the cause, maybe I’ve blocked it, maybe I was too young. But I remember that rainbow. I remember crying because I didn’t think anyone loved me, or liked me. I remember, fairly vividly, seeing that rainbow and feeling the voice of God inside my heart tell me that He loves me.

I knew He had made a promise to mankind that He wouldn’t destroy all of mankind by flood again. I remember a kept promise being a deeply important thing to me.

That is my first memory of connecting with God. Through that rainbow, having known about that characteristic of God, He brought His Word to life and breathed life into my spiritual lungs. I was about 7 or 8.

When I was 8 I began to learn to play the violin. I don’t think I took learning it seriously until I was 9 or 10. I had a wonderful teacher who took the time to help me find a sincere love for playing it. That’s when I began to practice. I started practicing everyday during the news– I hated the boring news back then!

As I grew in my ability to play, I also grew in my affection for it. At times it became the extension of my inner secrets, those things I couldn’t give voice or words to, things I didn’t understand.

I struggled with learning certain techniques, and I began to practice hours at a time because I wanted to be the best I could be– I wanted to be 1st chair. You see– that violin sounded scratchy no matter how much I practiced. I had to work extra, extra hard to get the scratchiness to not be noticeable.

My parents were kind, they didn’t complain about what must have been awful sounds at times. They didn’t have much money, and that violin was a rent-to-own. It was what they could afford. They gave me something far more than just a musical instrument to learn. They gave me what I needed to succeed, to survive, to feel. I had a way to access a depth and passion I would not have otherwise.

Without that, I’m not sure I would be here today. My violin became my best friend. It was the tool that I could use to help bring healing into my soul. It was the tool that allowed confidence and accomplishment to be poured into my spirit.

As that rainbow I first recall observing became a vehicle for God to reach into those inward places only He has access to, so became my violin. So much so that when, during my first military duty assignment, my dorm room got so hot from the heater I could not adjust, the glue melted and my best friend literally fell apart.

It was as though I lost my right arm.

I think I was in shock that I didn’t have it anymore.

A few months later, after making payments with my meager A1C salary, I brought home a new violin.

Then my dad bought me a special one, that I sincerely believe God set aside just for me. Someday I’ll tell that story, I’ve gotten myself side-tracked.

As I continued to play, a new passion stirred up in my heart, a desire to serve God while playing, an intense need/want to help bring God closer to other people’s hearts. Sometimes it’s so overwhelming, it feels like my breath is taken away, hoping I can be His vessel to pour healing and life through.

Rainbows, to me, are a visual of how God reaches into our inner recesses through music, through His Word, through prayer– through His Spirit.

I’ve been meditating on the song Remembrance all morning, and as I’ve been writing this. There is so much in this simple, short song. The music is nice and it gets intense. The words are nice and they get intense. My memory gets intense as I internalize, absorb, soak in every note and word– saturating my soul. Communion is deeply personal for me, the words remind me to not just take it but to remember Him as Christ is formed in me– continuously, as I take Communion and live my life for Him. He has been so, so good to me– oh the things He has delivered me from, and protected me from. No matter how bad things ever got– they could have been so much worse.

The rainbow seems like an illusion, but science has proven it’s absolutely real. Just like God in our lives. To others He appears to be an illusion to us, but through our personal experiences with Him interacting with us, we know beyond any shadow of any doubt that He is more real than any problem we face. In fact– the problem becomes the illusion and dissipates completely as He takes it and deals with it in His timing and His way.

Yes– He has been so so Good to me. Unworthy as I am, as I have always been– He has not withheld His goodness from me– I would have. He has provided me with all I need, He gave me a husband who reminds me of Him in how he treats me and loves me. I don’t know what He sees in me, but I am Eternally grateful that He does.

I owe Him everything. I have nothing of worth to pay Him back, He has accepted my life. My life.

My life.

Some days I do need Him to remind me that He’s not finished yet. I don’t understand why he has not given up on me at times.

I would give up on me.

My life is no longer my own, it belongs to Jesus.

Limited as it is, He still finds ways to use it as a catalyst for His healing Spirit.

“Until I see You face to face, Until at last I’ve won my race– remind me You’re not finished yet. Hallelujah…”

Here’s another link to the song– Remembrance– Hillsong Worship

Reality Check, What life has taught me

Words Matter– Spoken and Unspoken

jem

Have you ever stood out on the beach and just yelled into the wind? Did anyone hear you?

Social Media traffic is the online wind, tainted by “deboosting”, “algorithms”, “shadowbanning” and the bias of those enforcing them.

That’s a part of what I’m thinking of as I type this on my Social Media platform.

But, it’s more than that.

For me there has been a recurring theme of a sense of being unheard, undervalued, even unseen.

I found at times I could use that to my advantage in a defensive/protective kind of way– I could leave a room and not be missed. I could stay quiet and no one notices or tries to talk with me.

I can’t begin to describe that deep lonliness I’ve just learned to live with.

Why don’t some people want to hear me?

Some are so engrossed with what they want to say, others are lost under the clutter of words, ideas and opinions.

Writing has been my out-source. Sometimes I feel free to say whatever I want to say.

Except I’m not.

Because what if someone reads something they find offensive or hurtful?

It’s always about everyone else.

What about me? Do I ever get to just talk and be heard?

When can I openly share my heart and concerns?

I could tell some crazy and awesome stories!

I could even share bits of wisdom from firsthand experiences.

I think I’m pretty funny. (Don’t ask my husband though, lol!)

I’m pretty creative.

My topics of passion and pet peeves have “evolved” through experiences, trials and life lessons learned from that popular school of “hard knocks”.

One thing has always gotten me through the silent times, the emptiness, and the “I don’t quite fit ins”.

Answered prayer.

Because when no one sees me, hears me, or values my input or presence– God always has. And He has always let me know.

I’ve seen Him transform lives. I’ve seen Him heal people– He even healed me! I’ve seen miracles!

It’s sad that some will just never know what God has done because they won’t stop talking and listen to others.

Talking has always been a struggle for me. The anxiety after talking in a group setting is suffocating. Did I say too much? Did I talk too long? Did what I say make any sort of a difference to anyone? My spirit feels anxious, restless, even worried.

I know this problem is not with others– not most of it.

It’s how I react, how I relate, how I believe I’ll be received.

Or rejected.

Having been told I was “in God’s way” from someone who’s opinion I deeply valued has had an almost crippling affect on my life.

Having been told that I’m “poor in spirit” has stuck with me through decades of church relationships and church leadership. I think that’s because I’ve heard so little to counter-balance and cancel that out.

Where Scripture has admonished us to build up one another– I’m not a “one another” worthy of that, it appears to me.

Tearing down is for strongholds, not for people. Not ever for people.

I’m guilty of having torn others down in my past.

I guess it’s taken feeling like that outcast that helped me wisen up and learn the necessity of speaking life– and life abundantly– to one another.

This is my invisible enemy that fights me often. I wrestle not with flesh and blood– I know this too well.

I have people I do talk to, though my list is growing smaller by the year.

There will, however, always be One on that list. That is in no way a sad or depressing thing. I have the ear and attention of God attuned towards me. That is humbling– so very humbling.

Reality Check

Square Person in a “Well-rounded” World

jem

That’s me there– the square one. You’d think I’d be the well-rounded one with all my experiences and whatnot, but that’s not how it really works.

Words that have been used to describe me by others over the years–

Intense.

Intimidating.

Too sensitive.

Angry-faced.

Project.

Beautiful.

Tenacious.

Words I wish I heard about me–

Compassionate.

Loving.

Kind

Giving.

True friend.

Loyal.

Honest.

Beautiful.

Generous.

Acceptable.

That last one is probably the most coveted by me. There seems to always be something people want me to change in order to “fit” their box for me and change the label they’ve put on me.

It’s not going to happen.

I’ll never again be happy-go-lucky. I’ve experienced too much first hand.

I’ll never be the perfect cook or housekeeper. I just won’t.

I’ll never perform the way anyone thinks I should. I have no desire to jump through “social norm” hoops.

Life has filed down my rounded edges into sharp corners with precise edging.

I can’t go back to being ignorant of pain and suffering.

I can’t heal the wounds others can’t see or make the invisible scars actually disappear for good.

I can’t become someone I have not been designed or conformed through life experiences to be. I can’t, and I won’t.

I am not my outer appearance.

I’m not my experiences.

I’m not maleable to people’s whims and wishes.

I am who God has made me to be, and who He continues to shape– as He kneads the mars and scars.

I am misunderstood and misread, as well as overlooked and undervalued.

Somedays I am only loved by God.

But– I am always loved by God, and that is what makes the difference to me.

I have demonstrated my love for others through acts of service in the past– serving my country, using my gifts and talents for the Body of Christ.

Right now I’m in a season of rest and retreat.

I’ve lived for 1/2 a century. I’ve seen and experienced so many things in those years, sometimes it overwhelms my heart, my mind and my spirit.

I’ve been looking for the miracles of God in people’s situations and lives. I’ve seen some in my life, in my circumstances, and God has caused my own life to do a 180 turn. Miracles are not always evident, but if you can catch just a glimpse of one, you are seeing the evidence of God in action.

I could chip away at the edges, but I’d be leaving off what God has carefully shaped. While that might please the well-roundeds, it would not please God.

So, I don’t mind being a squared person in a well-rounded world.

Because that’s the shape God has formed me into.

introspection

Caught In The Middle

jem

I just caught a live sermon from Elevation Worship about transitioning. As I listened, it hit me– that’s what I’m going through!

I’m in such a weird place right now.

I don’t mean physically, or emotionally. Not really mentally– just in life in general.

I’m not young anymore, but not old. In my heart I feel maybe 15-20 years younger, but in my body I feel way older than I am. Maybe that’s part of that thing I was diagnosed of years ago.

Maybe not.

I’ve got two grown kids, and two at home. I’ve been a spouse and home educating mom for so many years now– much of that kind of isolated.

I think I’ve grown up now. Transitioning into a different mindset, a newly focused one– who did I grow up to become?

I’ve been defined by what I do for far too long now. I’m not satisfied with definitions and labels deciding who I am for me.

I’m caught in the middle of a transition.

And, sometimes that makes me a bit weepy. Sometimes I feel impatient for it to just be finished so I can step into the newness of being transformed into a better, wiser person.

Being caught in the middle feels chaotic, tumultuous– even ugly.

Looking through pictures to post here about transitioning, I found some interesting ones that helped me change my own perspective on being caught in the middle of a transition.

Like this dandelion caught in the middle of transitioning from a wildflower to seeds carried off by the wind.

Or the transition of day into night, with the sun captured, creating a breathtaking view– caught in the middle of the daily transition.

There is always a lot going on in the middle of a transition, but even if it feels awful, when we surrender our control– or lack of control– to God, He makes it a beautiful thing, with a beautiful change.

So, while I’m in this place that feels weird and lonely, often designated as the listener with nothing of value to say– God sees beauty in the process, and hopefully in me.

introspection, Uncategorized

Transformed By Transcendence

jem

I used to hold the collateral damage in

Stuff it way down deep

Keep it out of sight

Like it was nothing but a junk heap.

I used to care about

What people thought

But then I woke up

I’m different– so what？

I’ve lived an intense life

There are depths I know

Created through strife

I’ve been embarassed to show.

When I began to embrace

The pain and emotions

The trials and the breaks

The personal notions–

I realized others were in need!

I could share what God’s done!

How He’s made that difference

I’m thankful He’s the Healing One.

You see, rejection and I

We go way back– years!

We’ve been intertwined

Tied with dread and fears.

I used to surrender

Just accept the defeat

Now my spirit is strengthened

I forced it to retreat.

Oh, it still pops up

Tries to drag me back down to submission

But I know it’s a lie

I know it’s a fake prison.

I walked away

And found my acceptance

I have risen above, no longer blind

Transformed by transcendence.

I’ve embraced my purpose

I accept it’s about more than just me

Others need my experience

To identify with their need.

My pain, my wounds

My steep pile of stuff

Belongs to other

Diamonds in the rough.

I don’t matter to many

It’s ok, I accept it

Those lives most affected

Are puzzles my life fits with.

My views are intense

I embrace pain till it runs it’s course

Ignoring it seals it in

Confronting it gets to the source.

I thought I had to apologize

For being more sensitive than most

Yet, I owe no person anything

Except to the encroached.

My life has been open

My story a book for the broken

No more apologies

My understanding is now awoken.

Strong Woman

Loved Of God, Called By God

jem

“And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28 NASV

As a child until young adulthood, I didn’t expect anything good to happen for me. When it did, I would brace myself for it to be ripped away from me, because then I wouldn’t feel disappointment– because I just “knew” *I* didn’t deserve good things like everyone else did.

I carried that belief with me until I made the decision to stop just letting things happen *to* me.

I had been rejected, abused, trash-talked and the butt of family member’s and some “friends” jokes my whole life. I was convinced I was stupid, good for nothing– worthless– because I was told I was by people I thought knew me best. I thought I had to believe them.

Someone even told me they wished I had never been born. Everyday it was confirmed that I “was just in the way.”

Inner wounds and scars are tricky things. People react with compassion and understanding to outer wounds and scars, but fail to recognize that some behaviors are more than likely the evidence of inner wounds, of deep scars only God Himself can see and heal.

And He does heal them.

This is what Romans 8:28 reminds me everytime I hear it. For me, it’s deeply personal.

It’s evidence of God reaching out for me– to me– because I’m not in the way of His plans and purposes– I am a part of them.

He took my life, and He repurposed it. He refashioned it, reshaped it into something He can use. He has taken all of my bads and made them into part of His continuous story within my life.

He takes all of the bad, and uses it to help others know that He is Jehovah Rapha– The Lord Who heals.

I used to worry that people said things to me because that was how God saw me, but the more I learn His Word, the more I can see He has always had compassion for me, has always accepted me. He carefully made me, and where abuse and rejection had trounced and marred me– He picked me up, reshaped me around all of those circumstances, and He reminds me that if those bad things hadn’t happened, I could never understand the depth of His love for me, and His forgiveness towards me. He helped me forgive those who have acted with selfish ambitions– with little or no concern for how it has affected me.

I still have “people trust” issues.

What I no longer have is God trust issues. He has proven Himself reliable.

The Past

My Shoes

jem

Nobody says, “I wonder what it would be like to walk in their shoes?” about abused children.

No one daydreams about being yelled at, called names– or worse.

No one envies the child with the broken spirit, no one celebrates their choice to fight to survive.

One of the strongest memories of my dad was the time I walked into our living room and he just started yelling at me about how much he hated me, how I was just in the way– how he wished I were dead and had never been born.

I reacted to that, at first, by contemplating ways to take myself out of the way. Then– I called my best friend.

She helped me realize the best way to help myself would be to remove myself from the situation. So– I planned a vacation, where I could strengthen my will to continue to live.

I was in high school at the time. I planned for a two week vacation from my life. I took time off from my job, I arranged for a place to stay, and I told no one except the person I stayed with where I would be.

That saved my life.

It was inconvenient for others, I know. Some worried– and they should have. They should have been worried more about my state of mind before I took my time-out, than the fact that I left.

I only used a week of that planned two weeks.

I was introduced to a life I had never known before that, but it was just enough to realize– that also was not the kind of life I wanted to live.

I woke up to some harsh realities, and I walked away from some permanent options that would have become permanent mistakes– had I chosen to take them.

I had always had a secret life of envying others who had dads that were loving, kind, and healthy. Dads who’s hugs were not dangerous, where insults were not the “norm”– ones that cherished their daughters.

My dad, he had a rough childhood. He probably had a secret envy life, as well.

I forgave my dad for his failings, years ago.

I made sure my own children had what I envied of others (God made sure too) because I knew what I had missed. I don’t blame my mom for my dad’s issues. It’s never been her fault.

I love my friends who have had wonderful, nurturing and healthy relationships with their fathers. But, it’s like bumping an unseen bruise to know that that’s something I will never get to know firsthand.

I’m old enough that I’ve forgotten many things I’ve experienced. That ache at what I was robbed of is always there, though, silently throbbing under the surface.

I’m so very happy for others, but my heart silently envies and daydreams about what their lives must have been like.

I’ve attempted to try on their shoes, but my callouses and bruises keep them from fitting comfortably, I’ve never been able to walk in them.

I’ve heard more often than I can count, that God is my Father. True– He is. He is a good father.

As awesome as God is, I still have a lack in my heart for a loving, mentally healthy, earthly dad. That’s my reality. Acceptance from God has been more healing than anything anyone could offer. This is why more mentally healthy, accountable-to-others, Christian men need to step up inside the church. There are people of all ages missing healthy relationships. We are so quick to just expect God to mysteriously fill every void and heal every affliction, when God gave us to one another.

Jesus made sure his own mother had someone to step in to fill the void He was leaving. What an amazing example of compassion and understanding! We lack nurturing, healthy relationships inside our church families. Our own members are hurting from devastating wounds and circumstances, and we busy ourselves with programs, not recognizing the deep needs right in front of us.

God help us to be what our own family-in-Christ needs us to be– what You call us to be.

God has given us shoes to wear. Shoes of the Gospel of Peace. Shouldn’t we wear them at all times, starting inside the Church? And if we don’t wear them there, if we take Abaraham’s burning bush approach and take them off on Holy Ground– Jesus made it abundantly clear the need to wash one another’s feet.

In other words– we need to look after one-another, with the same intimacy as close, healthy, loving family.

We need to get this right so we can effectively affect and reach the world around us with God’s gift of Hope, Love, and relationship with Him through Jesus.

Reality Check

Home

jem

Home- Chris Tomlin

As a kid, when my Grandma yelled “Kids! Dinner!”, I stopped what I was doing, dropped everything, turned towards her voice and house, and raced home as fast as my legs would move me.

Before that, I was so involved in whatever I was doing or playing like “ice cream truck” with my tricycle upside down and the pedals spinning, (not sure how exactly that made it an ice cream truck, but– it was the best game to play!), or burying m&m’s and pennies hoping for very special trees to grow quickly– nothing else mattered!

Important things, right?

As I Watched the video linked above, I had this mental picture of Jesus in the distance, and then of me just freed from wrist shackles– throwing off the weight of the world that ties me to this place, taking off at a full dead-on run, pushing my legs hard to get to Jesus.

All those things I’ve been focused on asking for God to bring His Kingdom here on earth– Jesus is His Kingdom.

Jesus is His promise.

There is no one else I want to be as close to as possible, besides my husband– and even he takes a backseat to my Jesus. My Rescuer. My Holy Hero.

There is some ugliness in the world that is not going to let the healing, transformative Light and Life of Jesus into it. Ever. It will burn in that lake of fire with the enemy of God and our souls.

I want to be as close to Jesus as I possibly can be. Here on earth, in Heaven. Everywhere.

This song has reminded my spirit. There is nothing more important than closeness with Jesus.

Nothing.

No matter where I am, when I am close with Jesus– I am Home.

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.” Psalm 23:4 NASB

His rod and staff can only comfort me when I am close to Him. This Psalm is a picture of walking close to Jesus.

Purpose of Church

Believer’s Meeting

jem

9:00 am, Sunday morning eyes close, hearts open– cue the perfect opening song, chosen because it’s upbeat, uplifting, and it gets the blood pumping. Energy surges. Those who practice loudly in their cars are ready to join in corporate Praise and Worship of Jesus, right?

Except, “I” and “me” are used far more often than His name.

“It’s all about You, Jesus and how much You have done for me, how much I have been changed, how much You love me, how You’ve made a way for me…”

Song one finishes. Cue songs 2 and 3, in similar keys and subject so they can flow into each other smoothly. Hearts and minds are focused on all Jesus has done for “me“.

Cue song 4 for the offering, something catchy and convicting to encourage Believers to give to God freely…

Song 5 helps transition right into the sermon, getting hearts and minds prepared to receive the Word of the Lord and the Preacher’s sermon.

The sermon is deep, convicting, full of Truth and equipping Believers to make it through another week until it can all start over again.

A closing song extending the sermon message, inviting people to let down their personal guard so they can receive personal ministry to help them overcome the things holding them back, keeping them from fully embracing Jesus, God’s healing and deliverance…

And… we’re done.

It’s a set, a church service proven to be a smooth and embraceable formula that the majority of American Church models follow now.

What’s the fruit? Happy people, a love for deep, powerful music, a new determined focus to meet the challenges and difficulties of a week focused around “me”.

Mid-week, there used to be Wednesday night Believer’s Meetings to help get us past the dragging down of our spirits, and re-focus in putting Jesus first and foremost in hearts and minds. It seems many churches have instead poured their entire focus on that Sunday morning gathering. Which is fine, Wednesday night sometimes just adds into another thing that keeps us busy and exhausted.

Which songs in church help equip Believers in how to treat others? How many prepare Believers for interacting with those hurting, abused, or abusive outside of the Church bubble?

What church service songs encourage us to help rescue others from the spiritual muck and mire that acts like quicksand, holding and pulling people farther from freedom through Jesus.

We hear the words “help the dying and lost” so often, we’ve gotten numb to their meaning and impact.

The world that has not embraced the Salvation, Grace and Mercy of God through Jesus– it’s not a friendly, warm place. There are people who hate Christians, hate everything about God. Are we ever prepared to walk in the empowerment of God to not only deal with people that hate us, but also show them Jesus?

We lack transformative power, most often, because I believe we are stuck in a “me me me” rut.

Me filters everything– how does this song minister to me? How does this affect me?

All fingers are pointed at me. I’ve recently been confronted with my own boundaries of keeping the ugliness of the world out of my perception and eyesight-hearing range.

Choosing what I allow my understanding to be exposed to is a luxury.

The hurting, lost and spiritually dying don’t have that luxury. They don’t have Jesus, the necessity for us all, to protect them, to shield them, to deliver them from the cold, dark world of animosity towards all God has created– which includes them.

I had forgotten where I had come from. But– God reminded me. How can I not go back and help others ? Did Jesus rescue me so that I could become cold-hearted towards others who need Him to rescue them as well?

Jesus told us to go, share the Good News with the world that hates Him, and by proxy– hates us. Share the Good News that they don’t have to serve hatred any longer, they can have His free gift of Eternal Salvation. Before meeting Jesus, after allowing Jesus to give freedom is like night and day. It’s like shackles and freedom, caged and free, oppressed and… free.

Free.

No price.

No bondage.

No entrapment.

Free.

Mind-blowing, am I right? The human mind cannot even fathom what that means, and so many reject it because it sounds far-fetched and unbelievable.

We need God to empower us to demonstrate that reality of Jesus.

Where does the neat and tidy American church service infuse that empowerment?

We will never find that power on our own, within ourselves, to reach out to a torture victim. Because they do exist– in America.

How can we help rescue someone’s mind who has been trapped in human slavery– because, again, that exists inside of America.

Jesus left Heaven to be born as a human to walk with us, so He could rescue us– heart, mind and soul. Not just our soul. Not just physical and heart healing.

Our minds.

Our emotions.

He came to set the captives free.

Where are we most held captive?

In our minds.

How can we ever be ready to help people get free from the ugly hatred of the world if we stay focused on “what Jesus has done for me“? Those trapped don’t care what He has done for me. They need Him to help them, and they need us to stand in the gap while He sets them free.

“For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him.” John 3:17 (NASB)

“So if the Son makes you free, you will be free indeed.” John 8:36

introspection

Wound’s Protector— The Scar

jem

I’ve mentioned a few times that I have scars on my scalp from a “friendly” domesticated adolescent cougar “playing” with my head as his chew toy. I’m thinking about that today because they hurt. Kinda bad.

So that got me to thinking– if my physical scars hurt so badly at times, what about those deep emotional scars? Sure I’ve gone through all those rituals of forgiveness, repentance for my part in some things, and trust in God for healing. And He has healed me– so much! (I’ve even felt Him heal my esophagus as I praised Him through singing– what an amazing, warm, wonderful feeling that was!) I wouldn’t be married again if God had not done major surgery on my mind and my heart. We just celebrated 20 awe-inspiring years!

Those of us operating in the American mindset think we have everything all figured out. We put things in neatly labeled boxes, organized by category, decorated prettily with descriptions, definitions and diagnosis.

But what if we’re wrong?

What if we take a box out of the organized line-up, sort through it and realize it really isn’t the way we believed it to be?

What if emotional pain is not always as explained? What if it’s the manifestation of pain from emotional scarring?

The tough thing about emotional scars is no one can see them. Only the person who lived the experience can feel and remember.

Incidentally– that’s exactly the experience of Christianity. Only the person who has experienced Divine interactions can feel them and experience their reality. That does not invalidate that person or experience, just like it does not invalidate one who has emotional scars. The experiences did happen, they did have an impact on the person they happened to. Jesus did Save the Christian, His actions and the Holy Spirit interactions continuously impact the Believer, though it’s deeply personal.

Do emotions exist? Do memories represent past experiences? Does pain from emotional wounds and scars ever manifest in our reactions, responses, emotions and beliefs?

I think maybe the “professionals” are really just guessing– and maybe they have guessed wrong in some things.

Maybe we look at mental health the wrong way. I don’t think PHD’s have all the answers because I don’t think they have been asking the right questions– many times they are just masking the symptoms, not getting to the core and root of what they diagnose– not looking for a healing solution.

Only God has all the answers, only God knows all things, sees all things and understands the “why” of all things. He has promised in His Word that we can call all to Him and He will answer us– He’ll show us great things we don’t know. Do we believe that?

I think I do. Sometimes. When we step away from the bindings of what has been explained to us with human understanding, and seek Divine understanding, God will show us, Jesus sent us the Holy Spirit to teach us, to comfort us, to empower us.

How much of that have we stepped out in faith to embrace?

We cling to our diagnosis, definitions and descriptions as though those have life for us. The One Who holds all knowledge is life. My desire is to cling to Him.

I fall short.

Do my emotional scars manifest sadness through their pain? Anger? A desire to be comforted? A lack of trust in others?

I honestly think maybe they do. Maybe that’s part of their intended function as God has designed them to protect where we once were wounded.

God's Heart

Hello Plank, How’d You Get In My Eye?

jem

I have a view. An opinion. About everything. I have a view about that opinion I have of everything— I’m right. Of course I’m right! Can’t you see that? What do you mean you look at things differently? There’s only one way to see things– my way!

I think if we’re all honest, we’ve fit that description at least at some point in our lives. The one where we measure everything against our own perspective, and toss away everything that doesn’t line up.

When I’m sitting in a movie theater, and a tall person sits in front of me, I adjust so I can look around them to see the screen, or I change seats. When I’m driving somewhere and there is road construction, I find a way around it.

When I have an opinion about something, or a judgement– a plank– I look around the log in my eye instead of directly at it. I don’t recognize it as a log, or an obstacle in my view. I accept it as part of the reality I “see”. I make excuses for it being there– “That’s just the way I am…”

God is doing something in me. It feels kind of weird, I’m seeing people different than I ever have.

Tonight I met unfiltered guy. I saw the speck in his eye. Then God showed me the log in mine.

God’s Word clearly tells us to come to Him as we are. As we are. Not “clean yourself up, behave with societal ‘normal’ behavior– you know– fit in perfectly!” Nope.

Come as you are.

Broken.

Discouraged.

Bitter.

Judgmental.

Hurt.

Offended.

Offensive.

Homeless.

Rich.

Weak.

‘Perfect’.

Intelligent.

Ignorant.

Annoying.

Pleasant.

____________. (fill in the blank)

“Come as you are.”

“Those who are weary will find rest.”

“Those who are hungry will be fed.”

“You who are lost will be found.”

“The hurting will find comfort.”

Come.

As

you are…

If God extends that to everyone, shouldn’t we as well?

God can handle it. With God working through us, so can we.

Walking With God, What life has taught me

One Size Fits… Um No

jem

I confess– I have a tendency to be a serial unasked-for advice giver. I can’t help it. I know others can glean from my experience-gained wisdom. Right?

Except that’s never how it’s taken.

If I’m honest, it’s also not how I take it from others, either, even though I try to be polite and respectful.

The old cliche’ about judging a book by its cover fits here well. How often do we hear or read something someone says and opine that we know the solution to their problem? After all– it worked for us, so it will work 1000000% for all– right?

Well, no. It won’t.

Nothing about me or my life is ever a one-size-fits-all fit.

Even Scripture is not a one-size-fits-all life application. I mean– it is– but it applies in endless ways. Some Scripture is the same for everyone. Like John 3:16-17. And most Scripture will help us achieve the same outcome as others, but it applies individually and uniquely over every life it touches.

Because it’s the Living Word of God.

It’s not a one-size-fits-most bandaid or covering. It’s the healing/repair balm uniquely designed to fit our specific needs.

God’s Word is not reactionary to us, it’s designed for us to respond to it.

Unlike our random acts of unasked-for advice-giving.

I have so much more to learn about letting God love others through me.

His ways are so much better than mine.

Strong Woman

Your Discomfort Is Not My Responsibility

jem

hair-in-sunrise-2513x1670_18986

When we started dating, my husband, bless his heart, listened to so many stories from my past. He was my true friend– still is. He didn’t live through the same kinds of pain, and maybe he didn’t really want to hear what I was telling him about– but he did. I know he did, because he can still tell me things I told him about back then. He listened, and he remembers.

There are moments when I’m reminded just how separated from most people my experiences have shaped me to be. While I no longer hold onto anger, grudges or the pain of most, those experiences are still very important parts of who I am and why I am the way I am. But– why have I had to have so many of them? I have too much to add to some conversations, and nothing to add to most. Small talk is easier now, but it used to be impossible.

How I wish I didn’t have so much to say about some very difficult things. Most people have one or two, maybe three tough life experiences. If I stopped to count, I could name at least 8– ranging from spirit-breaking to devastating to near-death.

I’ve met very few that could honestly say the same, to the same degree as my own.

This causes me to realize just how alone I really am.

Certain songwriters’ lyrics speak to issues and express feelings I haven’t been able to give my own words to. I was surprised to hear Plumb’s story recently. I thought for sure she must have lived through similar devastating life circumstances to my own, because her words reach down into depths I had forgotten existed in my own past. What she has experienced are not light matters, it just wasn’t what I expected because of the impact her music has had on me. NF is another one that has a few songs that reach the depths of my spirit and my painful past, sometimes so deeply I have to stop listening to it. Through his music, I would guess he’s at a place in his healing that I’ve already passed through in much of mine, so sometimes his lyrics cause me to go back to the negative view of things God has already visited and healed in me.

My point in writing this is– I know I will never “fit in”.  I’m ok with that, now, I just recognize it for what it is. I recognize and I now just accept that if I mention or blog about something that nearly broke me in my past, a rare few stop to listen/read.

They don’t hear what God claims as victory in me.

I think some would rather I stay silent about those uncomfortable things because they don’t have to acknowledge them. Some think I haven’t moved past things if I bring them up. Some feel uncomfortable if others hear.

It happened to me.

It happened. To me.

Don’t they think I feel uncomfortable having to live with those memories, and the shame attached to them?

But– as long as I go out of my way to make everyone else feel comfortable by never mentioning publicly what has been constantly uncomfortable for me– it’s ok. Because they aren’t uncomfortable, and it’s got to be all about me making sure no one feels any discomfort around me because of circumstances outside of my control. That happened. To me.

I try very hard to be gentle in what I share. But to remain silent about it because of the expectations of others feels like I’m being shoved into that box I’m not meant to go into.

The comfort of others is not my responsibility, and it never should have been something anyone has expected me to go out of my way to ensure for others.

The subjects that were the main theme of my past are more than anyone was meant to carry. I’m not carrying that burden of protecting everyone from knowing what happened to me, anymore. That is not my calling. Because to not be upfront about what God has had to do in my life to help me be a normal, functioning woman, is to suppress the glory and praise God alone deserves. The discomfort or embarrassment others experience at hearing about what I have had to survive is not my responsibility.

I’m not going to be silenced by silent or verbal disapproval.

If they care at all about me, they will instead rejoice at what God has done and is still doing in my life– every time I mention it. They would praise and thank God for working unseen from most so that I am still alive, instead of them wishing, maybe, that I weren’t. If someone is embarrassed by something that happened to me because I mention it, the problem is with them, not with me.

People have to know what happened to me so they can praise and thank God for what He did when He rescued me.

And, He has rescued me. More than once.

If you have a broken limb, everyone sees the cast, and most will ask what happened. I’ve had a broken life, and if people were paying attention, they would have seen that. Since the things that broke my spirit are hidden, people want them to remain hidden so they don’t have to be inconvenienced by knowing.

I see that as a problem, never a solution.

That whole #MeToo campaign gave me hope that finally victims would be able to speak out, and be received with hearts of compassion. How disappointing that it’s become a mockery to victims, and I do not mean the fake ones paid to lie to ruin reputations! That needs to be exposed! Where is justice for the real victims of sexual assault? Not the “He said I look pretty.” garbage!

I am a survivor of real sexual abuse, who can claim victory. #MeToo #VictimToVictor #TheTruthHasSetMeFree

Those who don’t want me to speak out can #GetOverIt.

 

 

 

 

 

Reality Check, The Past

Suppression

jem

With all the recent scandals from Hollywood and politicians, I’m again thinking about my own past of sexual abuse, and different reactions I’ve experienced about how I do/don’t do things.

First, I’ll share some of my background.

I was molested by my dad as a young girl. That in and of itself is still a humiliating experience for me. I’m still emotionally sensitive at times and in different situations. It’s just the first abusive situation I experienced, but it’s the foundation of abuse in my history, so it’s my focus today.

Bringing it up now and admitting my emotions can still be affected by the memories– at times, the nightmares– does not mean I’m not healed, that I haven’t forgiven him or that I am stuck in the past. These are some of the reactions I can count on getting nearly every time I mention it.

No matter the reasoning behind my dad’s actions against me– it still happened.

So, when I see and hear things people say to others, it frustrates me. Things like– “Pick up the broken pieces, and move on.”

Well– start where in picking them up? To me, this is like telling a person with 2 broken legs to just stand up and walk away.

Everything about me was broken. I say was, because God picked up my broken pieces, and He helped me move forward– towards Him.

But, you know who didn’t? People. The Body of Christ didn’t. Once when I asked for special counseling from a Pastor’s wife, she blamed me for causing problems with my reactions to having been hurt!

Much of my life I have fought to be heard. Most of my childhood I struggled with being seen and learning how to fit in. All of my victim-hood I’ve fought to survive.

You won’t believe the attacks of my mind, my heart and my body that I experienced as a result of what was done TO me. I fought to get away. I tried to run away. I tried to make it stop by taking my own life away from it– physically– forever. Thankfully God intervened and had Compassion for me.

These were my wrong reactions and thought-processes growing up– I cut because I was numb and that made me feel something. I starved myself because I deserved to be punished because I must have been an awful person for that to have happened to me. I clung too tightly to guys I just wanted to love me– I just wanted to be loved and valued. I thought if I removed myself, I would no longer cause problems for my dad– because he told me that.

My mom did all she could to protect me and handle an impossibly difficult situation. She sent me where she knew I would be safe during the summer years of my childhood– to her parents. I don’t know what they knew, I only know I was told to never ever talk to anyone about things. You see– I didn’t even know that my mom knew. I thought I was completely alone, and had to fend for myself all alone. But, she was looking out for me.

“Pick up the pieces and move on…”

When you’re self-perception has been damaged through the mental abuse of someone else that should be trusted to protect and build you up– how do you move forward? Where is forward? Which way is up? Because everything I knew was filtered through that experience and how others reacted to me.

It’s by the Grace of God and my mom that I survived my childhood years.

I am not hanging onto what happened. Talking about it doesn’t mean I’m hanging on to it. Hopefully talking about it will extend a lifeline to someone else who may need someone to look out for and reach out to them.

God has brought me through it, to the other side. I don’t need pity of the stuff of feeling sorry for me, or counseling.

My purpose for writing this is– those “encouraging” sayings do not help real people with real needs.

Picking up the broken pieces for me, at that time, meant the equivalent of picking them up and then walking barefoot through more broken, sharp pieces. I saw no clear path, until God in His Mercy reached out to me and pulled me out of it.

He had to carry me, because I was far too broken to walk on my own.

For those who are broken– you can Trust God. I promise! His ways are gentle and kind– and always perfect.

For those who are unbroken observers– Please– Allow God to work through you to reach out and help the broken with more than cute sayings that often feel more like salt poured into open wounds than healing balm.

Pray at all times, without ceasing, giving thanks to God above for one another. Especially those that you just don’t understand. Don’t turn a cold shoulder, don’t be short or abrupt– that helps no one, but instead often feels like condemnation poured-out on those who might be crushed under the weight of it. God is not in that.

Love is Patient. Love is Kind. Love does not dishonor others. Love is not self-seeking– Love does not prefer its own opinion over the needs of others.

What life has taught me

What I Wish Some Understood About Sexual Abuse Survivors

jem

We live in a world full of people with as many backgrounds as there are people. No two are completely alike. In this mix, there are abusers, abuse survivors and the unaware.

The category I fit into is abuse survivor. I was molested as a child, harassed as a teen and young adult, and raped as an adult by someone I believed I could trust.

It’s been quite a few years since it all happened to me, and it surprises me to see how it still affects my thinking of myself. 

So, I’m going to address some of those things that I’ve learned, and some of the attitudes I’ve dealt with.

1) Rape and sexual harassment is never funny to a survivor. It’s never a light topic, it’s not something to be joked about. Words do matter— they conjure up memories— sometimes traumatic ones with deep emotions attached.

2) No, we can’t just get over it. Something was stolen from us, trust was violated, our spirit has been bruised. Healing over time happens but, often invisible to the natural eye, emotional scars remain. 

3) We grieve over the robbery of our innocence. 

4) Our body was attacked, and our bodies react to that— often through eating disorders, or even gaining weight in an attempt to self-protect. Stop the body shaming, they probably have some history of sexual abuse! 

5) We are often more sensitive to criticism because many of us have an unconscious belief there must be something wrong with us for someone to hurt us so badly.

As a Christian I rely on God to be my Comfort and my Strength, but sometimes I wish I could rely on my brothers and sisters in Christ more. Relationships aren’t often easy for me to form because I still, even after so many years of God restoring what the locusts had eaten, I still have trust cautions. 

All I hope to get across through this post is to encourage others to become aware. Be kind and sensitive. Hold back on criticisms. 

God's Heart, Uncategorized

My Open Letter To Pastors Everywhere– You Need To Get This

jem


Dear Pastors,

Over the past 20 years I have been moved from place to place, sometimes by God, sometimes for personal reasons. 

That is why I’m writing this.
I am no one special. I have no title, no grand purpose or calling. I am like many within your flock, under your care– part of your Divine calling and purpose.

I am a member of the Body of Christ, and that means something more to me than merely being a member of a local church.

I have been given talents by God, and I strive to use them to help further His Kingdom purpose.  I have been given a heart of flesh that longs to please God. I love people, I love Jesus, and I love serving God as He calls me to.

I have seen where church leadership has some blindspots. I am asking you, humbly, as one who loves God and people–  please– drop all defensiveness and listen.

I believe that God has called Pastors and all church leaders to love His people as He loves His people, not to just instruct us about the Word of God. Not one of us is in the same part of the narrow road, nor have we walked with the same steps or strides. In fact, there are some who are crawling, there are some who are stopped– waiting on God to give them clear direction– direction that oftentimes comes through you.

Every Pastor wants the congregants who are running the race perfectly, with all the energy necessary to carry out the plans and purposes of the ministries churches offer. There are people who are called and able to fulfill those Pastoral dreams. 

I want to tell you, many simply are not. Many are trying to work out their Salvation with fear and trembling. Some want to please church leadership, but they are burnt out by doing so. Some feel weighted down by life. Some have been crippled by life’s circumstances, and they can’t “perform” as is often necessary. These are the people you are leaving behind. These are the ones you are hurting. Some of these equate how you treat them with how God wants them to be treated– and that is breaking God’s heart.

I want to encourage you to look at every person as the individual that God has created them to be.

We are all brothers and sisters in Christ, and God has entrusted you with the loving care to help nurture and grow even the most unloveable Christian.

I believe God wants to release His healing within His Body. Hurts caused by our own family in Christ. Reconciliations. Letting go of offenses. Repentance for how we all treat one another.

I believe He wants to begin from the top of the leadership down through the entire congregation.

What does this look like? More ministries for congregants, not just opportunities to serve. Listening more carefully. Being approachable, a healthy relationship attainable outside of jumping through specific hoops to prove worthiness of your time, attention and appreciation. 

Removal of any “hierarchy” mindset that in any way belittles your congregants in your eyes.

There are millions of Pastors, and every one of you is a unique individual created by God, just like all of your congregants are. 

I pray you will read this, that you will seek God concerning this. Not because I am asking, but because God’s Judgment begins in the House of The Lord. We all need to be far more sensitive to God’s Spirit than we are to the opinions of ourselves and others.

God’s love is not tough, it’s full of compassion, patience and deep understanding.

So should we all be towards one another.

Sincerely,

Your Sister In Christ

An Honest Perspective, Walking With God, What life has taught me

Fighting An Invisible Enemy

jem

girl-blowing-glitter

 

I have an invisible enemy. I’ve fought against it for as long as I can remember. This enemy does not fight fair. It hides in the shadows. I have exhausted myself many times throughout my lifetime trying to fight back, but it dodges every retaliatory jab.

My enemy catches me off-guard, though less often now. It strikes with the intention of crippling my efforts. It dismantles my credibility. Mocks my accomplishments, experience and concerns, rendering them invaluable– useless. It attempts to define me as “too emotional”, “uneducated”, “ridiculous” or “ignorant”. It laughs at me, or rolls its eyes with a sarcastic dismissal of my importance.

It steals my confidence– tries to steal my joy.

I’ve learned to stand back and just observe how this enemy attacks and come to recognize that part of its victory over me has been through the use of decoys. It’s as though I am blindfolded, and I think I know its location through a sound or a movement. But, when I attempt to retaliate, I punch through thin air, exhausting– even injuring– myself in the process.

It’s impossible to fight this enemy.

In an effort of self-protection, I surround myself with people who have proven their trustworthiness to me over time. People who value me and don’t laugh at my creativity, experience, or blow off my concerns. Sometimes those people disappoint me.

I have begun to realize, the best way to defeat this enemy is to guard myself during its assailment and then assess the damage.

The damage hardest to overcome or heal from is the friendly fire. I know my visible enemies will not care about or recognize the truth over their opinion of me, so their words no longer hurt me. But, those closest to me– their opinion becomes the fiery darts my enemy uses to go straight to my heart.

When I remember to hide in the shadow of God’s wings, the damage is minimal, often non-existent.  Psalm 63:7 reminds me: “For You have been my help, And in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy”. Hosea 14:7 encourages me that:  “Those who live in his shadow Will again raise grain, And they will blossom like the vine. His renown will be like the wine of Lebanon”.

Then I know, the only thing that ever matters is God. He sees all, knows all, and He’s with me every step of the way, guiding me with the light of His Word, working through me regardless of how useless or unimportant any person believes me to be.

God is my strength, and He helps me defeat the intentions of my invisible enemy, by praying and believing God’s Word– His promises. Every time.

Christian Thoughts, God's Heart, The Past, Walking With God, What life has taught me

The Spiritual Damage Of Anorexia

jem

I’m a former anorexic and bulimic, reformed through Christ. This post has been a long time coming.

To look at me now you can’t tell I was near death at one point from practicing anorexia.

The Spiritual consequence is what I want to get into with this post. I don’t think I’ve ever read anything about that before.

Fasting is an important part of our growing relationship with God. When we fast unto God, we deny our flesh to set aside our physical wants and needs temporarily to focus on seeking God. We fast to repent, seek God, grow in our faith and understanding, and to actively put Him completely first. The focus is God, not our body, not the avoidance of food.

Anorexia is a tool the devil uses to corrupt that. Fasting not only becomes an obsessive practice of focus on ourselves. Opportunities open for the demonic to gain footholds in our lives, choices, beliefs, vision, perspective and practices. The devil sells us the idea we can obtain perfection.

When Jesus is our Lord and Savior, God sees us as perfect because Christ is in us.

Through the practice of Anorexia, the devil causes deformity within our spirits and our understanding. The devil clouds our vision, and converts our perception to a distorted view and belief system– the belief that our body is the enemy we need to fight against.

The Bible is clear that our battle is not against flesh and blood. We are transformed through the renewing of our minds, new creations through Christ Jesus.

Striving for perfection, we work hard for acceptance and approval of the world. But like a small kid in a game of Keep Away, or Monkey In The Middle, we never lay hold of it. The constant effort steals focus, energy, confidence– reality. The bar gets raised higher. It’s always just… out of…

Reach

God accepts and approves of us because of Jesus. We don’t have to prove our worth to Him because Jesus showed us how much He values us by dying on the cross, and rising up again. We are wanted, welcomed by God.

Jesus made it possible to have acceptance from our Creator. We can have a relationship with Perfection Himself, and He is working to make us the best version of ourselves– for His glory.

We have a choice: We can work really hard for a distorted version of perfection that’s never within reach. Or we can rest in God’s approval and meet Him in the changes He makes as He perfects us His way.

I have experienced both. I prefer God’s way.

The Past, Walking With God

Scars– Survivor’s Thick Skin

jem

I have scars.

Some are easily seen. Like the one on my hand where I got stitches from grabbing a knife out of a distressed friend’s hand. He was threatening self-harm.

Tonka The Mountain Lion

Some are hidden. I have scars in my scalp from an attack by a playful young mountain lion my aunt kept and adopted from a hunting trip. When my fingers locate the indented bite marks my hair now hides, it seems as though the scars remember the trauma– the pain. All that blood… I can still almost taste the metallic flavor as it as  gushed out of the fresh wounds, covering my face. The rush of fear– I had no idea how to get away from Tonka cougar’s implanted teeth in my scalp. The tears. The shock as my aunt just stood there, watching, with what I remember as being a curious and possibly slightly amused look on her face. Her husband grabbed a towel and somehow got my head out of Tonka’s clenched jaw. I don’t remember being separated from my new “friend’s” grasp. I vaguely remember being in the ER, having my head bandaged. The rest is hidden in my memory, deep beneath those still sensitive-to-touch scars.

There is a Proverb that says– “Wounds from a friend can be trusted, but an enemy multiplies kisses.” (Proverbs 27:6) I’m not sure I can apply this one to what happened with Tonka.

Then there are inner scars that no one person see. The ones that form over our emotions. The ones that guard our hearts. They cover our memories, stretching over wounds as a protective layer. They remind us to avoid people and situations that cause us pain. They encourage research into preventative measures. They might even be what makes us want to build up protective walls– to keep similar pain out.

Maybe they are the walls…

I have hidden scars. From an abusive childhood. From people who called themselves my friends, but never really followed through. From a devastating first marriage.

I have other scars I call regrets. Wow did I do stupid things! I had no self worth. I was beat down by the words of my dad on a regular basis, convinced what he said about me was how everyone saw me. Worthless. Good for nothing. In the way. Why was I even born?

I am thankful that God swooped down and rescued me the times I almost gave in and gave up.

He was my Comforter. He was my  Rescuer. My Protector. In later years He also became my Shield.

He brought people, one at a time, into my life. He worked through them to help me. He helped me find the path to trust and healing.

My list of traumatic life experiences is longer than many people’s. I hate that so much! Not because I would ever want anyone to experience more. Because each situation where the scars have sealed-off painful memories, is horrible.

I have fought a tremendous uphill battle just to be normal. I fought to have a healthy mind. I’m fighting to have a healthy body.

I have hated my life for most of my existence. Except where God made the changes that delivered me from being bitter, hate-filled and angry. I love that He has healed and transformed me to the me I am now. Believe me– I was beyond  repair. Consumed by anger for my dad. Filled with hatred for my neglectful, abusive, rapist-coward of an ex-husband.

I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that God is real. I look at who I was before I allowed Him to walk with me, and I feel a sense of shock that He didn’t just have me removed from the face of the earth.

He healed me. He revealed a deeper love for me than anyone had ever shown to me.

All I ever really wanted was to be loved, to be welcomed– to be wanted.

God has given that to me.

The scars remind me.

One of my scars is sadness. You can’t walk through all I have and not still be affected in some ways by it all. God healing me does not erase those circumstances or all of the emotions still attached. I was still robbed of a healthy relationship with my dad. I remember the horrible words he said to me, how he hurt me in so many ways– physically, emotionally, mentally, even spiritually.

It all still happened.

It all no longer defines who I am.

Jesus has scars. Crucified on a cross. Nails the size of small railroad stakes pounded into His wrists and feet. Scars on His scalp from the crown of thorns. Scars on His back as His flesh was ripped apart by a whip called the “cat of nine tails.” He endured that for me. His scars remind me that His love and compassion are so deep, He willingly went through everything He did for me. I couldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t have been able to look at my abusers and say to God the Father, “Father. Forgive them, for they know not what they have done.”
Jesus did that.

His scars remind me.

An Honest Perspective, The Past

What You See Isn’t Always What You Get

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We live in a timeline of illusions. Photoshop and other apps often help us give the appearance of faked perfection. Movies and tv shows take us to other times, places, worlds, universes, and realms of perception. Even Reality shows are not very “real”.

We are so caught up in a culture of perfection that the imperfect, as defined by popular societal opinion, is often thrown by the wayside.

We measure others by a set of standards we’ve been told everyone should just fit into, or else they are wrong.

Worse– we measure others by the standards we have set for ourselves, and that our parents or spouse have set for us.

If we are honest, we can admit: anyone who doesn’t conform is wrong and not worthy of our time.

In Christian circles, I see so much of this “Put your pretty face forward” junk. “Think Positive!” “Focus on the prosperity God wants to give to you!” “Be happy! The joy of the Lord is your strength!”

I’m caught in the middle of imperfection. I used to be able to fit into an appearance of perfection. Now I have way too many openly apparent flaws. I’m ok with that, but a lot of people are not. If some things were suddenly reversed, I’d have it made! Like, if being overweight were looked at as a trophy of having carried and cared for 4 children, for instance. I’d fit right in there!

My imperfections on the outside are right there for everyone to see.

My imperfections on the inside aren’t easy for anyone to see unless I draw attention to them. Like I’m about to do. But, it’s going to get ugly. Because some of my memories just can’t be prettified. They can’t be made into happy ones. There is no prosperity to be gained from them.

I have found it difficult over the years to find people who can, or want to take time to try to identify with me. My life has never been average, but I rarely invite anyone in to look at it.

These days we are drawn to dark things, but not the kind of dark that I have faced– the kind of dark that makes you beg for the Light.

It’s intense. That’s not my fault. I didn’t author my life.

I’ve just survived it.

I don’t know how anyone else would have lived through– survived– the kinds of things I have had no choice about. I suspect they might treat other imperfect people with more compassion and understanding.

I’m drawing this out because I don’t want to write about the dark memory that’s been on my mind.

When a bone is broken, there is something on the outside to make that apparent. Lots of pain. Bruising. Swelling. It can be x-rayed, set or fixed with surgery and put into a cast until it heals.

When something happens in our lives that causes us to be broken inside, there are no x-rays, no setting or fixing, no doctor that puts a cast on it until it heals.

Yes, God heals us. But, that’s not what this is about.

There is no bandage that is able to heal the memories of what I have seen and experienced as a child with an abusive, mentally ill parent. The legacy I have been left by my dad is painful memories. There is no amount of  “Put on your pretty face and be happy because the joy of the Lord is your strength” that I can apply like a balm of Gilead.

Happy is not the same thing as joy.

I have an inner joy because Jesus Christ has given me eternal Salvation. I have an inner sadness because something has been stolen from me that has not and can not be replaced: my dad. Even while he was still alive, things could never be repaired into a normal, healthy relationship. Because he wasn’t normal or healthy.

He was broken.

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No medicine could fix him. In fact, for years, it made things even worse.

Sure, talking with a counselor often helps with inner healing. But, let’s be honest: what’s been seen can not be unseen. And the darkest memory I have fits into that category. I don’t really think about it often. I remember that it happened but I don’t actually look at the memory.

Because it’s the crippling kind of painful.

I feel an anger and a sadness I don’t want to acknowledge. It makes me feel like crying, but the tears are stuck somewhere deep.

It’s the horrifying picture of when my dad tried to kill my mom on Mother’s Day of 1980. I witnessed it. I might have even helped stop it. But, what I remember is that nothing I said, or yelled in desperation seemed to have actually been heard by my dad. I heard my dad shouting early on that morning, and I opened my bedroom door to find my mom lying on her side, under our dining room table– under my dad– curled up in the fetal position. My dad was pounding his fist against the side of her head. She was crying, trying to get him to stop.

I nearly lost my mom that day.

When I stop to really think about what happened that day, Mother’s Day is not a happy day for me.

When I gloss over it and instead think about how I am now a mom of 4 amazing miracles, there is happiness.

So, is the answer to just gloss over it all the time, and never really remember? I don’t think it is.

I can’t change the fact that it happened. I can ignore it, but it’s going to pop up in other areas.

That deep anger creeps into my interactions and reactions.

The sadness tries to take over as depression, but I don’t usually let it.

There is a gratefulness that we didn’t lose my mom that day, to God and the family member that made my dad stop before it was too late.

I don’t think I’ve let myself think about the full impact of that.

My mom was almost taken from us in a horrifying way.

There is nothing to make that memory “pretty” or happy. That day impacted me deeply. It’s a thread sown into the tapestry of my life. I can’t remove it, or ignore it forever.

It caused something in me to break. No x-ray machine will show where the breaks are, or help anyone diagnose how to help it heal.

I can’t explain how it’s made me want someone to reach out to me. I can’t talk about it. The rare times I’ve tried to, people get put off because they don’t know how to react to it. It’s not the kind of thing that societal advice applies to, there is no Joel Osteen quick fix.

It’s not pretty. It’s not happy. It’s not the popular kind of “dark” or traumatic.

There is no box my life fits into comfortably, without trying to conform me to some unrealistic expectation.

I once asked a Pastor to counsel me, and she told me I didn’t need to be counseled. She finally agreed, but ended up she blaming me for reacting badly to things– like crying and irritating my dad when I was a baby.  I was told I need to just “let go and let God.”  I have done that, and I still hurt when I remember. I still feel angry.

I forgave my dad. I moved on.

But it still happened.

I appreciate my mom’s strength. She never divorced my dad because she made a covenant with God when she married him– For Better Or For Worse. Many marriages end with things less worse than what my mom endured. She stayed with my dad because if she had left him, he would have no one. She felt compassion for someone who behaved like a monster to her. In this day and age of impatience and perfection– who does that??

My mom is a brilliant example of loving someone unconditionally.

Am I advocating for someone to stay in a marriage they are not safe in? NO. Absolutely not! I can’t tell you how much I wished she would divorce him throughout my childhood.

God protected us all as she honored Him. I believe that. I’ve seen proof of that more than once.

Before my dad died 3 years ago, my oldest son wanted to make sure he was Saved. My dad said to tell my son that he loved Jesus. I’m sure he had to work out his Salvation with fear and trembling because there were still some ugly things that had a hold of my dad’s understanding.

But, isn’t it good that God has made Salvation so simple “that if you confess with your mouth Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved; for with the heart a person believes, resulting in righteousness, and with the mouth he confesses, resulting in salvation.” (Romans 10:9-10 NASB) We like to make it more complicated.

Mother’s Day is coming up. This year it will be tough for me to not remember that day so many years ago.

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I’ll try to acknowledge and embrace my inner devastated, heart-broken, frightened child as I also embrace my beautiful children who are like the sunlight lighting up that darkness.

I understand what I’ve survived God has used to make me stronger, but the scars will always remind me of the brokenness I’ve suffered and what God has brought me through.