accompanied

it's the end of the roll. 
are you going to change it?

yep, that's my question. 

after living in the miracle of last summer in my life, after awakening to the truth of my lack of surrender and finally surrendering, after basking in the relaxation and the "warmth" (for lack of a better word) that is His presence,  i've reached a new "end of myself" with Him.  it differs tremendously  from the painful experience of last summer's initial surrender.  this one feels more matter of fact and less emotional - there's no other choice but to change it.  and while it's not a comfortable change, it is something i want to do.

have you reached a point in your life when you said to yourself, "it's do or die."  you felt the pressing of the Spirit, perhaps the conviction or the questioning, the true reflecting of your life which requires change.  you have left the sermon, the quiet time, the recently read book, or an intense conversation challenged to change.  you sensed the unsettling in your soul that kept you awake at night and greeted you again in the morning.  although, in the morning the greeting is quieter.  and given a couple days you can silence it all together.

with the passage of time and the distractions of life, what at one time felt like a "must" starts to feel like maybe a passing idea and eventually is forgotten all together.

i fear that with the current stirrings in my heart...   that's why i am wholeheartedly pursing the path less traveled in my life.  i'm changing the roll because i don't ever want to be satisfied with something less than full.

full life.  abundant life.  do you have it?  it's not only a truth for eternity beyond this experience in the world, it's for now.  it's worth the change.  it's worth the surrender.  truly experiencing Him and genuinely knowing Him is worth the commitment and risk of doing what is now's "must".  don't delay and miss the "must" that pulls you into the abundance that Christ promised.  hold me accountable in the same; i beg you.

I have come that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly. John 10:10

so the chapter was on forgiveness. 

and i tried very hard to be o-so humble in my heart because, well, i just don't have a hard time forgiving brad.  ...do you sense my humility there?

the truth is, he is fairly easy to forgive because he really is a GREAT guy.  couple that with the fact that i have needed him to forgive me for some major stuff keeps me in check.  i'm so grateful to him.  he's definitely owed some grace.

where the line started to blur for me was as i prayerfully analyzed my daily life.  it's not the we're-going-to-get-married-so-let-me-lay-out-all-my-baggage-for-you-and-see-if-you-still-want-me kind of grace.  we've been there.  our answer was obviously yes.

and it's not the i-know-i-screwed-up-royally-and-i-don't-know-if-you-will-still-say-yes kind of grace.  our answer has always been yes.  8 years of yeses.

it's the kind of forgiving that is required on a daily basis that i am cloudy on.  do i really forgive or do i just get distracted and forget?

and before i jump all over the forgetting part and promote myself with accolades of love, because i know that love covers a multitude of sins, i think i need to address my heart.  it's subtle and so easy to miss...

is it really covering the sin if i sweep it under the rug of my heart and move on?

or, is my heart revealed in the sweeping, in the avoiding nature of my heart?

instead of turning to God and working through my emotions and repenting for my own irritations which have started, i move on distracted by my day and, eventually, emotionally move on as well.

oops.

the forgiveness which the Lord stirs in my heart now is the forgiveness i need from Him.  being aware of my own sin in the midst of what may or may not be categorically brad's sinful decision, requires a level of reflection which i do not often practice.  to reflect requires energy from me.  self-discipline is also a must, accompanied by a genuine disdain for my own sin.

but hating brad's comes so much more naturally to me.

Lord, let your kindness lead me to repentance.
Romans 2:4

through these months of silence, i've experienced some of the deepest valleys of my emotional life.  i cannot compare my experience with those of others that i know personally who have also suffered much more than i have.  however, it was, for me, suffering all the same.

it was deep darkness.  it was complete isolation.  it was, at points, despair.

but God.

just when i doubted i could take another breath, i did.  and then somehow, God sustained my life for another... and then another. 

you know how people say all the time that "God is a gentleman" and "He won't barge His way in" and what not?  i can't subscribe to that theory as a Christian.  i suppose there is the proverbial door at which Christ stands and knocks (to the church in revelation 3) waiting for them to open it.  although, my question now is: was it meant as a light rap or as a pounding?

while it is true that God is a gentleman in the sense that He is gentle towards me, there has been little of what i wanted in my life of late and a whole lot of what He did.  that sounds more like Lord than a polite, mannerly acquaintance.

the past 8 months (and in retrospect, well before that) have been ones where God has completely pushed me into a corner and waited out my fight or flight reflex.  psychologically speaking, i had a process to go through as part of the work He was purposing in me. 

part in which was the complete act of surrender.  while i knew a lot about it and wholeheartedly believed in it, it was becoming clear to me (once shoved in the corner) that i wasn't.  i clung to any resemblance of normalcy and sprinkled the Word on top.  it wasn't intentional avoidance of surrender.  it was just me, being the best version of myself that i could, coping through the most difficult time in my life.

but God. 

the other part of the process was really believing with all my emotions what i believed intellectually about God.  my heart did not trust God or run to Hiim for help when life was troubled....  i created a response from my self-persevering, survival mode which did not embrace the bigness of God, the power of God, nor in reality the love of God.

but God.

so He backed me into the hardest corner of my life, stood right there the whole time saying to me, "there's another way to live," while i totally despaired because of my disbelief.  and finally, when emotionally, psychologically, physically i could stand it no longer in that corner, in that despair, in that pain, i said, "okay."

and though that may not sound very gentlemanly to you, it was the kindest thing He's ever done for me.  in that moment and in the weeks that have passed, my life has radically changed.  the pain is still there, but it is lessened in His brilliance.  as i stare in awe at the Author and Finisher of my faith, the One who gave His life, the Sustainer of my soul, there is more joy than sadness, more beauty than ashes, more life than death.

the joy is unspeakable and full of glory. 
no kidding.

and the "suffering" feels more like the light and momentary affliction paul talks about in corinthians.

i can't say it enough:  thanks, God, with all my heart. 


in this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials,  that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ,  whom having not seen you love.  though now you do not see Him, yet believing, you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, receiving the end of your faith—the salvation of your souls.  1 Peter 1:6-9

it hit me like a ton of bricks.  it must be some suppressed issue from a childhood incident, right?  or maybe some relational neglect or oppression...  or, maybe, just maybe, it's human nature.  and when it is left unchecked, unnoticed, unrestrained it becomes what i have: distrust.

it became perfectly clear to me on a recent trip to indianapolis. 

i was headed to a restaurant that i had been to once before, though not for a long time.  i knew the general vicinity, had snagged the address off the internet, and grabbed the garmin.  (yes, we finally jumped on the band wagon when presented at christmas time with the gadget.  now we are proud owners of what my so-non-gadget-husband swears we have always needed.)  i typed in the address and merrily pulled out of our garage listening to one of my favorite radio talk shows.

there weren't any "problems" until i got closer to my destination.  i was about 15 minutes away when i started wishing that i could see the whole map.  i found myself driving and attempting to figure out how to see more than just my next turn.   zoom in...  zoom out...  menu...  i was surprisingly uncomfortable not knowing a couple moves ahead.  and i laughed nervously out loud at myself and my discomfort and my distrust.

okay, you can wipe that smirk off your face now.  maybe you laugh because you know how to operate this sensational piece of equipment; and you are enjoying my complete, total ineptness.  perhaps that deserves a laugh.

or, maybe you shake your head because you know the secret of the abiding.  you have walked with God in tough spots and know unwaveringly in the deepest crevasses of your heart the confidence that comes in walking with Him.

i have abided too at times...  only unknowingly disconnecting myself from Him to try to control my situation.  but, i have to abide today - february 4, 2011.  it's been a different sort of challenge for me to trust him 2,500 some days into a disease than day one.

but, you know what?  i like it.   i like that 7 years calls me to uncover my embarrassing distrust, my ugly unbelief that can only truly be shown to me at this juncture.  when i can see the problem, i have the chance to know the depth of freedom, miraculous mercy, and  unending grace at work in my life.  that makes me want to wipe His feet with my tears of gratitude.  then, take a deep breath  - and trust again today.

i think it's normal.  it is at least for my preschooler. 

the incredible amount of repetition that i do with her is considerably less than a year ago, but still i do repeat.  and i am beginning to feel as though i too am in some type of endless toddler learning cycle regarding my reliance on God.  i know it must seem ridiculous, but it is a moment by moment surrender which half the time seems is a toss up as to what i will do at least initially.  i can't help but feel sorry for God as He continues to repeat Himself.

i know He's okay with it.  honestly, i don't think He would have started the process if He didn't know it was worth it.  Not only the process that He's taken on in me, but i mean the whole of humanity... from the beginning.  Knowing what He was getting into, knowing it would require His Son...  He still created. 

That to me is hopeful. 

knowing my potential to screw up my marriage, He still gave me brad.  realizing my great lack to parent, He still gifted me with amia.  considering my propensity to cause pain, He still called me to Himself and gave me the loving name "daughter".  understanding my wandering heart, He still linked His with mine forever.  I think He's committed not only so that i could emerge as a different person, but so that He could "emerge", to me, as my God.

and as the temptation to teeter right off the edge of trusting Him is always sneaking up on me, catching my eye, adorning itself so enticingly, i must go back to what God is repeating to me:  He is strong.  He is loving.  He is strong.  He is loving. 

He is strong.  He is loving.

and those two things being true compel me to trust Him with all my unknowns.

one thing God has spoken, two things i have heard: that You, o God, are strong, and that You, o Lord, are loving.  psalm 62:11,12

a year after our remodel there is still a problem.  in our gorgeous new fern green bathroom with white trim and a perfectly modern, yet simple sink hides a problem.  the typical visitor has no idea that the issue lives on.  i cannot forget that it's there.

we've really been using the space for less than a year which may not seem so long to some, but when your battling with "all but finishing up" part it's a long time.  at first i had to remind myself that we (well, my husband and father-in-law more accurately - i made sandwiches and watched our daughter) moved the pipes around.  i pestered my husband, "are you sure that's okay?"  i questioned my father-in-law, "is that normal?"  "yes" and "it will clear out" was always the reply, and yet it remains.

dirt.  down right yucky dirt in my clean, still new bathtub.  and my daughter loves to bathe there.  she's outgrown the sink and can seldom be lured into a shower.  each time i drain her water i flinch at what remains and swallow my desire to be angry at the old pipes or my husband who moved them.

and then the other day it dawned on me that that bathtub and those pipes illustrated my life.  as crazy as it sounds, it does.  God's been giving me a new way to think about Him and approach Him.  recently i feel the invitation to be a selfish, trusting child with Him that i never have allowed myself to be.  always over-spiritualizing my request.  always servicing the idea of surrender meanwhile convincing myself to maintain a sense of control.  and while i find myself in a new "bathroom" furnished with the semblance of childlike faith, dirt still comes out of my old cynical, controlling heart.

odd as that may be it's comforting.  at least i've got the tub.  that's a huge cry from where i started.  i am excited that God could fit me with new pipes somewhere in the depths of my walls.  i am relaxing again in the fact that this is a process... that this is my process. 

i intellectually understand that God can and is meeting me in this place.  emotionally, my heart is still playing catch up.   i am again building that history with Him... the history of His faithfulness and His genuine nearness to me.  so as i continue to walk on this road with my nemesis (aka Brad's disease), i am learning again that God really does walk with me, that His rod and His staff do comfort me, and He does prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies.

shake me, Lord.  let me see what's there and repent.  and then please give me the brand new waterways.

create in me a clean heart, o God.  psalm 51:12

thursday was a misunderstanding.  although looking like winter coming on, the fall day sounded like spring and felt like the mildness of either season.  and i smiled to myself... enjoying the ambiguity.  i closed my eyes and heard spring.  i opened them and saw fall.  bare trees and all.  the christmas songs in the stores felt acutely ill-timed.

yesterday, however, was decidedly winter trying to push its way in.  complete with the view of snowflakes falling outside and a fire going inside, mother nature reminded me that she will run her course.  and i again smiled to myself.  and i resisted the urge of playing my christmas playlist.

i welcome the changing of the seasons.  i don't know why i am not as comfortable with the changing seasons in my own heart and my emotional life sometimes.  but, i am ready to learn how.  i think it must have something to do with just relaxing and being a child before God.  (o!  that again!)

as my life weaves in and out of surprising disappointments or personal failed plans and pure joy in indescribably perfect, completely unplanned moments, i wonder around my own heart searching for some sort of balance.  as a planner, it seems that God challenges me by keeping the lights off.  and sometimes it seems that i hear spring, and when the light comes on i see fall in all of its glory and drabness. 

and i think - no, i know - that's just the way it's supposed to be... me not knowing; God working out His purposes.  and i think that each season - or dare i say for myself, each day - requires that i follow the ebb and flow of His seasons soaking in the perception of spring and finding the beauty of fall.

so thankful that He doesn't change His mind about me despite my response to His seasons. 

so very thankful.


We humans make plans, but the Lord has the final word.  Proverbs 16:1 (CEV)

have you ever been invited to drink from the refreshing truth of God by someone?  having been so parched for so long, surrounded by only the stagnant, familiar, disappointing water of self, and then suddenly someone reminds you that there's living water?

my sweet friend reminded me more than a month ago that God wants us to come to Him as a child.  it sounded so right.  it sounded so inviting.  knowing that i had been carrying a heavy burden of "self" preservation, i longed to shed it, but couldn't see how i could trust God with it. 

however, it was a result of that afternoon with her that i began to awaken as to how many "i'm an adult" prayers i uttered versus how many "i'm just a kid" prayers crossed my lips.  and i saw clearly that  if anyone approached God with their abilities and resources touting, it was me.

so i am in the process of turning over a new leaf.  slowly, returning to the richness of the satisfying, living water called surrender.  it feels good to have my thirst quenched.  i am not great at it yet.  i am a recovering self-preserver. 

i don't know a more acute way of channeling my thought process towards child-likeness than by observing my own interaction with my daughter.  she incessantly asks me, "why".  she is in training to first say, "yes, momma" and then, "why", but as with anything, repetition with these young ones is seemingly the eternal training ground.  however, in my own very mature, adult reasoning i bypass the, "yes, Lord," and have skipped straight to the, "why, Lord?" just as she is known to do.  it's not that i think God minds the "why".  it just that the trust is not there that says, "i know You know what You are doing even if i have NO idea."

so, my Daddy asks me to become like a child...  to trust Him as my very own daughter trusts me.  i guess i need just as much repetition.  backtracking is harder work than it sounds, even when it is the road to sweet rest and ineffable peace,  but i say... "yes, Lord."

After a long absence from this semi-vulnerable, yet completely genuine avenue of self-reflection, it's time to breathe again in the fresh air of expression.  All of us are given to some sort of expression, some sort of creative energy, some sort of extension of ourselves for the world, or at least those closest, to better know us.  Tonight I was reminded of that.  Tonight I begin again.

Lately, I've been mauling over the fact that I hold God completely responsible for all things good and all things bad in my life.  My cynical shield began regarding my husband's health, but it's moved on to other areas in my life.  Intellectually I believe and know what is true.  However, emotionally I can not cross the divide which keeps me from what I want most: peace. 

Not just any peace either.  The peace that carries you through the treacherous waters of a sustained illness.  The peace that wraps you in the cold winds of rumors and untruths.  The peace that reminds you who your Daddy is, and what your Daddy does, and how safe it is in His embrace.

The inviting idea of Him continues to knock at my heart, begging me to embrace my Father as a child.   He invites me closer to, as my three-year-old says, "get all snuggly."  I know she feels safe there.  I know I will too as I continue to shed my demands for answered questions and surrender to the idea that God is accountable to no one, most especially me, and that's a very good thing indeed.