"Don't even knock," I say firmly, shutting my bedroom door and locking it. Sometimes a mom just can't. I curl up on the bed for a moment to escape another emotional outburst of today's two brokenhearted girls.
2 Comments
It was a wobbly start even though my six-year-old looked confident as she
picked up her bike. A breeze whipped her hair across her face as she looked over her shoulder to throw me a smile and to make sure I was there, watching. She had protestingly donned jeans, ever my skirt wearer. Last year, she had finished the best part of bike season fairly proficient. We had even biked together, though a little precariously, in the addition where we live. Now, at her first attempt this year, she expected the best. However, the bike wobbled under her as her muscle memory geared up for the first time in months. She fell over several times. It actually took a couple of days for her, but soon she was riding confidently and feeling rather happy, I would say. My bike wobbled too as my friend told me they were headed back to the hospital with her little girl. I was walking along just fine when God asked me to start riding again. I too glanced over my shoulder to make sure He was there. I got out my bible and let truth sink into my heart from passages that had sustained my life more than once in storms. A couple of the pages seemed to fall open to these deep, life-preserving verses. Others stayed hidden deep in my own rusty "muscle memory". A slightly easier season of life had allowed my muscles to weaken a bit as I focused on other things. Now my heart demanded them to do their job. I found myself reminded of my desperate need of Jesus. So with It is Well playing in the background, I got on my bike. I flexed my memory, "Is it first Corinthians four or second Corinthians?" I checked both and reread, "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal." I climbed back up on the bike and unsteadily rode toward Jesus. The process of surrender and trust is a wobbly one at times, at least for me. The drive for me to encourage my friend with life-giving truth and not just kind words makes me get back up when I fall. However, I gained strength and momentum in the riding. Paul reminded me of my aim in Philippians 3, "that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and may share His sufferings, becoming like Him in his death." The courage God gave to the early disciples in Acts 14 gave courage to me, "strengthening the souls of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God." Jesus' life itself begets strength in Hebrews 5, "Although He (Jesus) was a son, He learned obedience through what He suffered." I continued reading reminding myself of our sovereign God, our great treasure. As I focus my mind willfully on who He is, my heart fills with love, adoration, and gratefulness. When the God of the universe promises Himself as Abraham's very own shield (Genesis 15), when He guarantees the priestly tribe of the Levites the inheritance of Himself (Deuteronomy 18), I find myself saying, "Lord, I want You as my shield and inheritance!" "You are my portion and my cup...indeed I have a beautiful inheritance," Psalm 16 declares. "May all who seek You rejoice and be glad in You! May those who love Your salvation say evermore, 'God is great!'" Psalm 70:4 sings. "You are good and do good; teach me Your statutes," Psalm 119:68 reminds. I am biking hard now in hot pursuit of God instead of my own understanding, and there is indeed the fullness of joy in His presence. Seeking out a quiet moment, a quiet corner in the bustling hotel lobby for reflection. Desiring not only quiet for my ears, but a quiet for my heart as well. The past month has seemed in many ways like a bad dream. Trouble upon trouble seemed to be heaped upon those we love.
Sometimes words just don't suffice.
My heart is heavy and even the most carefully chosen, thoughtfully descriptive words cannot convey the its emotion today. I've many times thought about narratives from the Bible - how much unrecorded agony (and joy) are left to be imagined by the readers. Years passed with Joseph in prison, long agonizing hours of Christ on the cross, hundreds of years as slaves in Egypt - summed up in mere sentences. As several dear families in our life live through their own valleys, I carry a burden for them. A burden to be heard and understood, to not be forgotten. To not have their sorrows be a short sentence in our life at present. I remember an amazing moment years ago when I was sharing with a dear friend some of the struggles that we were going through with Brad's health at the time. She stopped and asked me to wait as she imagined what it was like to be me. She validated the gravity of my emotions, the stress of my life, and attempted to put herself in my place. That was a monumental moment. Many people offered sympathies or encouraging words at appropriate times. But, she tried to walk with me. And in a time when I was convinced I needed to be strong, it felt good to be weak and needy. She wept with one who was weeping inside. I would ask you to pray for my nephew, my cousin, my dear friend's daughter, my tornado victim friends if God reminds you.... but I also know that you have your own friends with their own needs. Church, our brothers and sisters around us are in desperate need for support. Body of Christ, the lost and dying world is in desperate need of love and hope. As hard as we may look for the perfect Christmas gift this month, let us look even more dedicated for those in need and then lay our lives down to love. Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth. 1 John 3:18 Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep. Romans 12:15 nobody knows exactly how long joseph was in prison. it's something like more than 2 years and less than 13. i recently googled the history of joseph and found that it is contained in about 23 chapters in genesis. however, the actual account of his time is jail is a little less than 2 and a half chapters and that hits very specific highlights.
i look at that and think to myself, even only 2 years of prison time deserves more space. what was going on in those years? that intrigues me about reading history. lapsed years are indicated by a few words. we've lived here for almost 3 months. sometimes i feel i need to justify that we are not starting some sort of ministry yet or giving more at established ministries. and you know, maybe nobody puts that expectation on us, but i have. until recently. somehow my heart has begun to really embrace what we are called to at this season. i want to trust in God's timing, not in my expectations or what i think others are expecting of me. i want to embrace this deep and meaningful work that God is indeed doing in me. i want to rejoice and enjoy the changes i watch in brad daily. i want to embrace the passage of time in our lives when someone else would look in and maybe record little in our biography, but we would know. because we experience the calling to the Word. we see the passions stirring in us. we encounter the lesson that only God can suffice in today's need. we learn the value in the process of patiently cultivating relationships. we dream often about reaching out to our world in ways we haven't yet. but it seems to be God's desire for us to wait and grow in us patience, hunger for Him, dependence on Him. and that is deep, meaningful, important work that i don't want to rush through for the sake of answering my own or others' expectations. that would be idolatry. my soul, wait silently for God alone, for my expectation is from Him. psalm 62:5 as i look around our new space, i smile. i like it. it's simple. it's easy to care for. i LOVE that because i don't love cleaning but want things clean.
the temptation of early morning entertainment of FB, email, TV shows and news headlines has been eliminated by the placement of our computer. i LOVE that because i enjoy entertaining myself (uninterrupted while munchkin sleeps) but tend to overindulge. it's small. we got rid of lots of stuff so we could fit in this space and not rent a storage unit. i LOVE that because i always thought i could get by on less, and now i know i can. and yet, to be perfectly honest, there's a temptation to take my eyes off Jesus and compare myself to cultural norms. there is a pull inside of me to give amia certain things, portray myself in a certain way, relate to my friends in a particular habit. i have the shameful ability to attempt to honor myself instead my Lord. it's sneaky - often completely indiscernible to me. i miss the skewed motivation in my heart. my head convinces me that all is well. it's the dilemma of those infamous 18 inches. moving knowledge from my head into my heart is assuredly astronomically above my natural ability. that is supernatural work for my supernatural God. as i struggle in the discipline of seeking Him in His Word, i find the miracle of my heart creeping towards Him. whom i look at (Jesus) from which position (head or heart) matters. God, please make these 18 inches on the short side, i just want more of You. Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and who is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. Hebrews 12:1,2 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. |
Authoremily... just plain emily.  Archives
April 2017
Categories
All
|
| accompanied |
|
RSS Feed
