Impatience

This morning I revisited a previous post, "Plugging Leaks & Overflowing".   I've been thinking about my current state of mind... self-perception... my current "in-look" if you will.  Here, in part, is what I shared in that earlier post:

I also believe that God does continue to pursue our hearts to draw us ever deeper into a loving, healing, grace-filled relationship with Him. I believe that He heals our wounded hearts, plugging up the holes left behind by the battering that it’s taken over the years, thereby rendering it capable of retaining the love He pours into it. I believe that He pours and pours until we are full to overflowing and that it is that overflow that we cannot help but extend to others! His love, His grace, His joy, His peace, His comfort… anything and everything that He gives us, He first fills us… and we overflow and share all of His gifts with others! Therefore, I also believe that we have a responsibility to participate in our own healing so that we may have restored whole hearts capable of being filled without leaking. I also believe that we have a responsibility to respond to His healing touch and seek to move closer to Him and desire, pray for the change to come, that we will have the desire to share His love, His grace, His comfort, His peace… all of His gifts with others!

I know, now, that I first must trust Him to fill my heart, allow Him to fill my heart… and that He will most certainly finish healing my heart so that it will stop leaking, so that it will fill to overflowing…

I have an incomplete thought.  It has to do with the leaking of one's heart and God healing and filling that heart.  It's something I haven't quite put my finger on, but it pertains to something that happens when one's heart is still leaking.  Because, what I noticed is that my heart has been leaking for the past several weeks and it's interesting to me to look at that now and realize that during the time that I stopped taking spiritual nourishment, I resorted back to my previous ways of thinking and processing; most of which were quite negative and very accusatory towards self.  I haven't hammered it all out, yet.  But for now, I am aware that my heart has again been leaking and I do believe I have a responsibility to participate in my own healing.
While I do enjoy being on the receiving end of so many rich and wonderful blessings from God, I strongly desire to mature and be a giver myself!  I need to let go of my disappointment and frustration of not being where I want to be and focus on participating in God leading me there! 
I wish I hadn't been so quick to delete my emails after reading them.  I read my verse of the day from Heartlight Magazine and its message reminded me of how we are incapable of transforming ourselves - that is the work of the Holy Spirit.  It's true.  I am reminded that I need to be patient with myself and continue to trust Him.  He is the Leader, not me.  I am the follower.

Forgiving Self

This morning, as I was driving to work, I heard a song that had a line which asked, "would you recognized His face if He came to take you home?"  I imagined that scenario.  I imagined looking up and seeing Him standing there looking at me.  I didn't have to ask myself how I would respond.  I instantly felt overcome with emotion at seeing Him face to face!  The love in His eyes, unmistakable!  That look, telling me that it's time to go home, to be with Him - overwhelming! 
I so want to please Him.  I so want Him to be as happy to see me as I feel I would be to see Him.  The thing of it is, what I do know about Him, and as happy as I would be to see Him, I know He will still be even happier to see me!  There is no measure of His love, of His compassion, of His passion for us!  But, what I mean is, I am so tired of disappointing myself... and thereby, feeling I am disappointing Him.  I am so tired of my sense of 'failing'. 
I know that the book, "The Shack" is controversial.  But I have read that book twice; once to myself, and once aloud to my Daughter and Son-in-law (about a year to a year and a half separated the two times I read that book).  Reading it out loud did so much more for me than reading it silently to myself.  There is a section in that book that caused me to have to just pause and absorb it's message!  The section about the difference between expectation and expectancy.  We live in expectation.  God lives in expectancy.  Expectation carries with it that sense of hope, but has a tinge of doubt or fear of failure.  Expectancy has the sense of knowing the outcome and that it's going to be good!  The author stated that when we fail, we tend to beat ourselves up and... well, feel much as I have been feeling for the past several weeks... as though I am a disappointment to God because I feel I'm a disappointment to myself.  God, on the other hand, knows how many times we're going to stumble and fall before we get past a particular obstacle and lives in expectancy of our success!  I believe that is true!  I believe that is consistant with what we know of God through the Scriptures!  Whatever you may feel or believe about the book, "The Shack", please don't overlook the many wonderful truths of it's message - which, I believe is simply illustrating the abounding love and compassion of God, not trying to make any kind of theological pronouncement. 
Reminding myself of that particular section of the book has already made me feel better.  This compells me to quickly address something else - despite appearances through my posts, I do not believe that our relationship with God is based on 'feelings' but on truth.  Nor do I believe that a sound relationship with Him means one must be devoid of feeling.  I do believe that as in my case, forgetting or misperceiving a truth can adversely affect how one feels about his or her relationship with God; or how he or she believes that God sees that one.
I believe that God is much more forgiving than we are - of others and of ourselves.  I believe that the deeper we absorb this truth, the more forgiving we will be - of others and of ourselves.  So, now when I entertain the scenario of Him coming to take me home - I am still overcome with emotion, but I am also laughing and crying with so much joy and love!

There's Hope

We proclaim him, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone fully mature in Christ. To this end I strenuously contend with all the energy Christ so powerfully works in me.
   -- Colossians 1:28-29 tniv

I know I haven't posted in a while.  I still receive my Heartlight subscriptions daily - and this is the verse of the day that I received this morning.  I wasn't going to read it, actually.  But, then I couldn't bring myself to delete it or even archive it without reading it - and I am so glad that I did give in and read it!  This verse gives me hope... renews my hope!  Some day, I will be mature in Christ - which means, I must continue to grow.
This doesn't cause me to want to wait until that happens.  No, on the contrary, this gives me the hope, the strength and the motivation to keep trying; to hang in there, don't give up!
I tend to get disgusted or at the very least, frustrated with myself and what I perceive to be a lack of progress.  It is so fascinating and comforting to look at this verse and to realize; God knew before I did how I've been feeling.  He knew I would need this verse!  It came in my Heartlight subscription today, as my verse of the day!  I embrace it with gratitude!

What's Your Caption?

As so many others, I have an account on facebook.  Today, a friend of mine posted a video, “Paradigm Shift”.  I was compelled to watch it because after another friend had apparently viewed it, she commented, “Wow”.  As I watched, I was touched, inspired, moved, convicted in my soul, among other responses.  I could not help but wonder about my own caption.  I wondered what my caption would say.  As I considered the issues that have been on my mind and weighing on my heart for the past several months, I concluded that my caption would likely read, “afraid to reach out”. 

It’s safe, you see, to share in this manner.  I’m on this side of the screen and you can’t see me, nor can I see you.  I can imagine anything I desire regarding the helpfulness of my posts or the type of responses of my readers.  Truthfully, though, there is not interaction this way.  What is missing here is the heart.  If I sat down with you and saw your eyes, would I ramble on to you as I do in these posts?  I have no idea about your needs!  This, at least at first, fulfilled my need – my need to share. 

I come to the realization that what I interpreted as my need to share is actually, my need to reach out.  That is difficult for me.  Talk about something out of my comfort zone!  But I really found motivation and inspiration in the video, so I have decided to share it with you.  Please do watch it!  My hope is that it will cause you to think about your own caption and what you may need to do to overcome it as well as looking at others and realizing that everyone has a caption.  I don’t suggest trying to ‘guess’ the captions of others, but getting a little closer and… well, reaching out, may help to reveal their caption… or actually, their need.

Paradigm Shift

Something's Shaking!

Let’s review: For several months I have been praying that God would move me out of my comfort zone, outside of myself, teach me and help me to live my faith out loud, so to speak.  Sunday, we had a class on prayer, the type of prayer we pray – striving to have the mentality of praying for rain and carrying an umbrella.  Monday was a Monday filled with more Monday than the typical Monday.  I attended an event at church – something outside my comfort zone.  But I enjoyed it – I was nervous and a little uncomfortable – still, I enjoyed it.  Today, I plan to attend another event there as well.  Today is eerily like yesterday.  There were a couple of stress-filled situations that happened before lunch – much like yesterday.   

Last night I tried to get into my home computer and discovered it would not come on.  I tried everything I could think of, including unplugging it for a while; all to no avail.  I tried again this morning and then went into overload mode – I must confess, I may be a little dramatic when I’m in overload mode.  I rocked in my chair, my face in my hands, asking myself over and over, “what am I going to do?  What am I going to do?” while attempting to fight off the emotion trying to flood from my eyes.  I got up from my chair to get ready for work and resolved to myself, “I am going to pray!  That’s what I’m going to do!”

As I was ironing my top, I prayed.  But then I noticed that I was praying a ‘white-knuckle’, ‘gritted teeth’ sort of prayer.  I stopped.  I made the deliberate decision to pray as though I was praying for rain and carrying an umbrella.  Now it was after this change in prayer that I experienced the uncomfortable, stress-filled situations at work.  I went home for lunch and shared all of these factors with my Daughter and Son-in-law.  I came to the conclusion that in the past, satan had been successful in stopping me in my tracks when he was able to elevate my stress level.  I would cut back on my usual activities, so forget about adding any new activities! 

My computer is in the shop, I still do not know the outcome.  I had to tell my current client that his show is on hold until I can get my computer woes resolved.  I still plan on attending the event tonight, even though I’ve been stressing about running out of gas before my next pay day.  I see these factors as both an attempt on satan’s part to stop me in my efforts to stretch and grow and live my faith outside myself and also as an opportunity to pray with the kind of faith of such characters as Daniel. 

It feels as though my world is shaking!  It feels a little intense to me.  Remember, I’m an introverted person; this sort of thing is very uncomfortable for me!  But I was also sharing all of this with my Sister, Barb, and she told me of a phrase that someone told her that made her feel better (I’ll have to paraphrase); The uncomfortable place that is outside your comfort zone today, will be inside your comfort zone tomorrow.  I look forward to that happening as I continue to move and grow! 

So Real

We were talking about prayer.  Though no one actually said this, we were discussing the mentality of praying for rain and carrying an umbrella.  We did talk about how those first Christians had prayed for Peter’s release from prison and then didn’t believe he was at the door.  We talked about how sometimes God will withhold doing even what He desires to do while waiting on us to ask Him.  Someone challenged us to explain why sometimes he doesn’t get what he prayed for, though it was something he needed, he had prayed fervently, it would benefit more than just him – playing the devil’s advocate until someone finally stated that it was not God’s will to answer that prayer affirmatively. 

But what really touched me, moved me, inspired me; what I truly recognized as so real was when one shared how he had prayed for the life of his son.  His son died.  Yet he could go to The One Who had lost His Son for our sake.  We are never alone, we have One Who does understand and is full of compassion for us. 

This is real.  What he shared, not just his prayer, but his faith when the prayer wasn’t answered the way his heart so desperately desired.  Even such faith is a gift from God.

I believe that the more we use the faith He gives us, the more faith He gives us to use to honor and glorify Him.  I say this because I look back at my own time of relying on His gift of faith when faced with an answer to prayer that was not as I so desperately desired.  I had prayed for my marriage to be saved – believing that it would be because I knew that God hated divorce.  I had to struggle with what I believed about God answering prayers during and after my divorce.  I had been so confident that He would save my marriage that I refused to file for divorce, even though I had the scriptural grounds to file.  I was unrepresented at the proceedings.  I didn’t even attend the proceedings.  Sometimes I wonder what would have happened had I showed up and contested the divorce.  I’m getting away from my point, however, so to refocus – I can see how much my faith has grown since I questioned and worried about why He didn’t answer my prayer the way I was confident that He would.  It’s been a long process for me to get from there to where I am today – and I hope to not stay where I am today!  How we pray reveals the depth of our faith and also can increase our faith.  Not the act of praying, but rather His responses to our prayers and then in turn, our responses to His answers. 

I believe that we should share these experiences with one another because you never know just how or who you may touch with your personal experience with God’s response to your prayers.  I believe that this is what people need to hear.  And as I saw the tears glistening in his eyes as he shared this glimpse into his personal prayer life and faith, I thought how people need to see something so real in us as we relate our stories to inspire them.   This is real. 

Never Alone

Sometimes it’s so quiet in my soul; it seems I am all alone.  Sometimes it’s so still in my spirit; I yearn for it to stir within me.  Sometimes it feels my ears are straining so hard to hear His whisper that I can hear them struggle for the sound. 

There was a time when I would experience this that I felt panicked, wondering why it seemed that He had disappeared.  I would review the days or weeks during which it felt that He was gone to see if I had done anything that would have offended or angered Him, to make Him distance Himself from me.  This time, I cannot pinpoint the beginning of the silence, but I suspect it’s been a couple of weeks, maybe more.  I’m not concerned, however.  I see this as a time to reflect on all that He’s done for me.  I see this as a time to search Him out in His Word (not difficult, as His Word is all about Him) and seek out a new or a deeper truth that I may learn more about Him.  No need to panic.  He has promised that He will never leave us or forsake us.  By now, I have heard, seen, and experienced enough to truly believe that His promises are true.  He is faithful.  His presence in my life is not contingent on me ‘feeling’ His presence.  I know He’s there.  This gives me peace, assurance, and joy.

What If

Today I stand on the precipice, wondering what’s next.  I feel as though I am on the precipice of change.  I have prayed for change for several months.  I have asked God to take me outside myself.  I have asked for a heart like His, that I may have compassion for others, a generous, giving heart full of grace and love and mercy.  I want so much to learn to live outside myself!  At the same time, I find it rather scary.  All of the usual ‘what-ifs’ plague my thoughts!  What if people don’t have a favorable response?  What if I fall flat on my face?  What if I make a mistake that costs someone heartache?  What if someone frowns at me?  All the ‘what-ifs’ direct me inward again; or, at least these ‘what-ifs’ do.

So, what if I change the ‘what-ifs’?  What if I refocus them?  Instead of, “what if people don’t have a favorable response” – what if they like what I do?  Instead of, “what if I fall flat on my face” – what if I am successful at my endeavors?  Instead of, “what if I make a mistake…” – what if I do it right?  Instead of, “what if someone frowns at me” – what if they smile?  Or what about this ‘what-if’ – What if I ignore all of the ‘what-ifs’ and just trust Him to give me the courage and the ability to do what ever He chooses to call me to do?  Maybe it’s like Peter walking on the water – as long as I stay focused on Him and looking at Him; I don’t have to worry about any of the ‘what-ifs’.  Once I look down or at myself, however, I risk the entire negative set of ‘what-ifs’ and then some, coming true.  Maybe I need to refocus my attention away from any and all 'what-ifs' because even the positive 'what-ifs' are still self-focused. 

I don’t know what He’s going to do with this introverted person or how.  But I trust it will be like a poster I’ve seen; “God doesn’t call the qualified, He qualifies the called”. 

Call me, Oh Lord, and qualify me to Your calling!

Through His Eyes

Did you forget Me yesterday?  Each day I make the sun to rise and set on you.  Each night the moon and the stars are envious of you because in My eyes, their splendor cannot compare to yours.  I cannot help but touch your cheek, your hair with My breeze.  I whisper beauty into your life with an array of flowers and charm you with the songs of My birds.  When you are sad, I sit by you with My arms around you – do you not feel Me?  I sing and rejoice over you when you celebrate your accomplishments.  

I love to hear you pray to Me, I listen with rapt attention and am moved by the love in your heart and your compassion for others.  My Spirit moves to calm you when your heart lacks love and compassion for others.  I collect the tears that fill your eyes, whether sorrow, joy, or just overwhelmed with love.  When you sleep I watch your dreams and listen to your heart, for it speaks those things you may forget to say through out your day.  When you remember Me and sing to Me, My heart is overjoyed!  All of this and so much more I do for you each day, just to let you know how much I love you.  I miss you when you forget Me.  Please don’t forget Me today.

Mama's Legacy

Today my Mama is on my mind more than usual.  We would have loved to have celebrated her 79^th birthday with her today.  The last time I saw my Mama, I was three – since my birthday is so close to the end of the year, I had not yet turned four years old. 

I was raised by another woman – no relation.  She was unable to have children of her own.  She acquired a red-headed, freckle-faced boy from Ohio.  Later, she… acquired me from Alaska.  The things I witnessed this woman do to that red-headed boy… it was a blessing that she was unable to bear children – she had no business raising children.  Eddie, the red-headed, freckle-faced boy left – he ran away.  Then it was my turn, and eventually, I ran away as well and continued doing so until the state made me a ward.

I bounced around from foster family to foster family until I eventually was placed in a faith-based children’s home where I finished high school (or nearly, I actually left the home before graduation day, but still stayed in the area and graduated).  I moved to central Texas where I met and married my husband – with whom I stayed happily married until my past caught up with me in the form of a depression (I wrote on this in my post “Something More”).  While in the throes of that depression, I attempted to reason my way out and sought counseling as a desperate attempt to escape.  One counselor began telling me how I had the characteristics of an adult child of an alcoholic.  He gave me a book to read between sessions.  I took the book home and began reading that very day.  I only made it as far as the second page.  I angrily tossed the book and seriously considered burning it in our trash barrel (we were dairy-farmers and burned our trash rather than hauling it approximately 20 miles to the landfill).  Instead, I returned the book the following week and told my counselor that I refused to read the book.  When he asked why, I explained that I would not blame my mother for the choices she made that launched in motion the chain of events that led me to where I was that day. 

Despite my objections, my thoughts occasionally dwelled on the point the counselor and the book attempted to make to me.  My mother’s choices, my mother’s alcoholism that took her at such a young age – she was 37 when she died a horrible death from alcohol poisoning.  I was 11 at the time, just three months till my 12^th birthday.  But, I was completely unaware of what she was going through or that she was dying.  I was being raised by another alcoholic in another state (it was still two years away from the parade of foster homes and then the children’s home). 

When I found my biological family in 1980, I learned details of my mother’s life that explained a number of the choices she made and what led up to her alcoholism.  I mourned for her and her sad life, her apparent sense of hopelessness, and helplessness.  I grieved that she had found nothing or no one to cling to that offered her peace or hope.  It wasn’t until after my divorce that I first felt anger and resentment towards her – not because of the resulting life I led but because she didn’t believe, because she didn’t find the hope to keep her going until all of her children looked for her; because we all did look for her and found her grave.  I needed her.  Her grave did not suffice.  

Years passed, including the year that saw me attending the four sessions with the young Christian counselor in Dallas who was the catalyst that launched me on my journey to healing.  As my thoughts returned again and again to my Mama, I found myself asking, what do I still need from her?  Why do I yet sense that I am still looking, waiting, hoping to get something from her?  I heard a preacher ask what we wanted to leave as our legacy to our children.  Instead of thinking of my own legacy to my children, I immediately thought about my mother’s legacy to me; to her children.  The world sees the events I just shared with you as my Mama’s legacy.   It’s been 18 years since I sat in the young Christian counselor’s office for the fourth and final time.  The journey has been long, sometimes slow, sometimes arduous, sometimes quite exciting, even exhilarating!  One of the many things I learned sometime during the past 18 years is my Mama’s legacy.  I know what she left behind for me.  Precious memories; scant, but memories that continue to reveal her to me.

I’ll share one now that, when I first dwelt on it, revealed her love to me. 

Remember, I had to have been younger than three – or at the most three years old.  There were a number of children at our house, playing in the back yard.  We were each given a bowl of strawberries.  One boy, who knew I had a fascination with magic, told me that he could turn strawberries into onions.  The trick had to be accomplished with the aid of the refrigerator and without my supervision.  I went off to play after placing my precious bowl of strawberries on a shelf in the fridge and left the boy and the appliance to work their magic.  As supper time neared and hunger gnawed at my tummy, I remembered my delicious bowl of strawberries.  I dashed into the kitchen and peered into the fridge – sure enough, there in my bowl was a nice pile of chopped onions.  I was absolutely impressed and delighted – until I told him to change them back and I was informed that onions could not turn into strawberries.

Now, at this age, I was exceptionally accomplished at sulking!  So, I sat on the back step and sulked.  My Mama saw me sulking and inquired about my refusal to play and have a good time with the others.  I explained the horrendous plot that robbed me of my strawberries, and if possible, stuck my lower lip out even farther.  She sat beside me for a moment, I sensed, feeling my pain.  She looked around and spied a green pop bottle sitting in a wooden crate in the corner.  She instructed me to retrieve the green bottle for her and made a show of secretly taking the empty bottle into the kitchen.  Of course, I had to follow her to see what she was doing with the green bottle.  I watched with rapt attention and curiosity as she filled the bottle with water, placed her thumb over the opening and shook it vigorously.  Then she showed me the little bubbles and how it truly appeared that there was soda pop in the bottle.  As though telling me a grand secret, she enthusiastically told me how to sit and watch the other children playing and at just the right time, shake it and appear to drink it.  I had no experience pulling off this type of deception, so it didn’t last long for me; but it lasted long enough to cause all the others to crowd around and I had their undivided attention for several seconds.  How pleased I felt when my Mama came out to sit with me, placing her arm around me while I held my green bottle of water and watched the others continue playing.  As we sat there watching, we shared a bond as partners in deception and all felt right with the world. 

I have more jewels that I may share as the opportunity arises.  But this one will serve the purpose intended for this post.  I stated that when I first began dwelling on this event, it revealed her love to me.  I still see her love in this story.  In addition, I see patience.  I see gentleness.  I see compassion and understanding.  I see her playfulness.  I see her ingenuity.  One memory such as this can reveal so much about a person.  This one certainly has for me!  These little glimpses of her scattered in my earliest memories reveal who she truly was in the depths of her core.  That is her true legacy!  That is what I celebrate, today, on her 79^th birthday!

Positive Disappointment

Something positive can come even from disappointments.  Case and point: I didn’t make it to Wednesday night Bible study last night.  I had looked forward to it all day, prior to Wednesday, even.  But when the time came, I gave in to my extreme tiredness and some physical discomfort I was experiencing.  I ended up going to bed early last night.

Only to awaken this morning and feel a strong sense of disappointment that I didn’t make it to class last night.  Through my morning routine, my mind continued to focus on my disappointment.  Finally, my morning routine was complete and I sat in my chair, ready for work, sipping my coffee and thinking about how disappointed I felt.  Suddenly, it struck me!  I was indeed disappointed about not attending last night, but not because I felt a sense of obligation or concern that someone would put a black mark by my name in a log somewhere.  I was disappointed because I have grown to love and care for those with whom I worship and study.  I truly wanted to see them and be with them as we studied more of God’s Word.  I wasn’t there.  The disappointment I felt was from a different perspective than I had experienced before; this can only mean that I am growing!  This must be evidence of God at work in my life, in my heart, answering my prayers to teach me to love as He loves.  While I do still feel disappointed about my absence, I am pleased with what it demonstrates to me.  It is encouraging and a relief to know that God is busy in my heart, transforming me into the likeness of my Savior, His Son. 

So, maybe not all disappointments are indicative of a failure but can possibly serve as evidence of something wonderful going on in your heart!

This is Peace

This is peace.  This is contentment.  This… this is life at its best!  There’s nothing like the very first sip of coffee in the morning.  I have two of the Granddaughters and their Nana has a Granddaughter and the Grandson while their parents are enjoying an out of town outing.  The girls are watching their Saturday morning programs in the other room.  Gigi’s kittens are sleeping peacefully while Gigi bathes in the middle of the living room floor after her breakfast.  Mogli has already gone outside.

I have finished reading my Heartlight subscriptions filling my first thoughts of the day of God and His daily gifts and blessings.  Fall photos are on my screensaver, the scenes whispering to my spirit of the changing seasons.  For the moment, I’m not thinking about chores or all of the busy things that will happen as the day progresses.  This is a rare moment of peace, quiet, contentment, unencumbered by planning, or schedules.  Soon the washer will rumble in the background, the sound drowned out by the hustle and bustle of life in the rest of the house.  Soon chores will be assigned, initiating the daily melody of complaints and noise will over take the calm of the house as those chores are accomplished. 

But for now, for this moment, the aroma of coffee fills me as its warmth radiates from my core.  Quietness claims my mind and peace embraces my heart.

No Joke!

Yesterday, something amazing happened after class!  My Daughter, her husband and family received a remarkable gift – a Buick LeSabre!  No, not my Buick LeSabre and not from me!  I knew nothing about it!  It was an anonymous gift given to the church, which in turn, gave it to my Daughter and her family! 

I am still reeling from this astonishing event!  I haven’t fully recovered from the receipt of my Buick LeSabre!  Now there’s Another Buick LeSabre in the family?!  This is why I posted earlier this morning, “No Words”.  Such a blessing is simply beyond words! 

It is their blessing that has all the evidence of it coming from God!  What are the odds – if you’ve read my White Car story which is about my Buick LeSabre (“Living Out Loud” post), then you can easily see why I cannot deem this a mere coincidence!  As I stated, this is their blessing, not mine… but I write about it because I receive a message through this blessing! 

It’s difficult being a single mother, even a single mother of grown children.  There are so many things I worry about concerning them and have felt burdened trying to help them alone.  Through this blessing, I hear God say to my heart – I am not alone.  He has them in His hands, in His care.  I can trust Him with my life, so then I can most certainly trust Him with their lives!  I can let go and let Him provide for them as He has provided for me!  I can trust Him to teach them as He has taught me!  I can partner with Him for as long as He allows breath in my body, but He is The One, not me!  He is their teacher, their guide, their provider!  There are no better hands for a parent to entrust their children than in the hands of The Loving, Gracious Father! 

So, though I have sort of already posted today, I intentionally left, “No Words” blank – for emphasis.  I now post this one because the “No Words” was No Joke.  I want you to know why I was speechless.

No Words!

Clueless

Ever have one of those days that felt heavy?  There's no sense of depression or blues.  Nothing out of the ordinary is going on; the day just feels heavy.  That's where I am today.  Almost as though I have too much input and not enough output (to empty some of what's going in). 
I also have the feeling that I need to get something accomplished - something specific.  Yet, it's almost the feeling of having no idea what that specific thing might be.  Therefore, I sense that the specific something has not even been initiated. 
I have to probe through everything, being of the analytical nature, trying to determine the cause of this... heaviness.  That, in itself, can feel heavy!  I weigh this and that and look here and there, trying to find something that will make me go, "Aha!  This is the culprit!"  Nothing yet. 
So I thought, maybe if I try another approach; maybe if I ask myself what I would rather do today.  That didn't work either.  I'm content with what I'm doing today.  Oh sure, it would be nice to go visit a family member up north.  It would be nice to spend a leisurely day in the mountains or at a lake.  It would be nice to visit an obscure village in France!  But none of these things are causing that feeling. 
So, I suppose I'll just go ahead with my regular, daily routine.  Maybe I will figure it out later, maybe not - who knows.  Right now, I'd like to just sit and meditate on a verse I looked up this morning:
Zepheniah 3:17 - The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save.  He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.

Living Out Loud

Today is rather quiet and almost mundane.  So I will take this opportunity to share an older story of something that happened recently, over a period of three months and what God had to teach me through these experiences.

My Daughter and Grandson were in my Ford Focus when they were hit by another car and the Focus was totaled.  Fortunately, no one was injured – in either car.  Still, I was stressing.  I was so afraid that I wouldn’t get enough for that ’01 Focus to be able to buy a decent car out right and I knew I couldn’t afford to make payments on a car or to carry full coverage (which would be required by law while paying on a car).  Well, the first blessing from God is the insurance settlement.  I expected around $2,200, because I had gone online and checked the Blue Book value of the car.  Instead, the insurance company settled with me for $4,794!  Isn’t that amazing! 

Amazing as that was, however, I still was concerned that I wouldn’t be able to even replace what I had – that I would have to settle for a lesser car – because I also checked online and all the used cars that I looked at that were in my price range had over 100,000 miles of them… my Focus had had only 56,000.  When I searched out cars with 56,000 on them… or at least below 100,000 miles, they were priced at twice the amount for which I had settled!  I was really stressing.

So, the guys at church asked me what I needed.  Well, they had picked us up in the church van every week since the accident.  Therefore, I felt duty-bound to look for something large enough to seat all seven in my family.  However, on the other hand, I felt I should only replace what I had and let the kids (namely, my Daughter and Son-in-law) provide their own transportation this time (the van I provided them with a few years ago was totaled).  As I attempted to relate this to the guys from church, they cut me off, not to be rude, but in their enthusiasm to help.  I had hoped for their advice as they listened to my dilemma.  But, they immediately jumped to the conclusion that I needed a mini van.  So, then I stressed and fretted over that for several weeks which grew into months.  Finally, I did go to God with the issue and I felt He guided me to a decision that I did not need a mini van; that I only needed to replace my car.  So, the very next Wednesday, I went to class intending to tell the car salesman of my decision… well, I didn’t see him before class.  After class, I headed towards the foyer and I heard him call my name behind me.  I turned and heard him say, “I decided that you don’t need a mini van!  You need a car!”  I scarcely had time to celebrate God’s goodness in his coming to that conclusion when I heard him say, “And I found you the perfect car!  It’s a white, 2003 Buick LeSabre!”  I cringed, for two reasons.  I wouldn’t have known a LeSabre if one had hit me.  But, I was familiar with the name “Buick”.  I thought, “Oh no!  I won’t be able to afford it!”  And the other reason, I decided, was too petty to tell anyone about; he had said that the car was white.  Without questioning my response or delving into it at all, I pushed the thought about the color out of my mind.  There were more pressing issues with which to deal.

Issues like, we had dipped into the car money and even though he said that the car was only $4,000 plus tax, title and license (will tell you why so cheap in a minute) I knew that we wouldn’t have enough to cover it.  I was embarrassed to tell him that I no longer had enough!  He had gone through so much trouble, and it really did sound like a good deal!  It was a one owner car and even though I would go to the dealership at which he worked (in a nearby town) to get the car, I wasn’t actually buying it from the dealership.  That’s how they were able to keep the price so low!  But, even with the car that low, as I said, we had dipped into the insurance money to pay bills, so I didn’t have enough money.

Now then, he had also told me about a car that he had that he would be willing to sell me if the deal with the Buick didn’t work out.  He had a Honda Accord.  It had 133,000 miles on it.  He said that the Buick would be a much better car for me as it only had 84,000 miles on it, it was a newer car than the Accord and it was just a better car.  I, however, was leaning towards the Accord because he had said that he would sell me the Accord for $3,250.  I knew I had enough to cover that and would still have some padding left over to keep in the account.  I asked him if I had to make a decision that Wednesday or if I could go home and pray about it.  He agreed that we should each go home and pray about it and see which car God wanted for me.

Thursday came and left - no call about either car.  Friday, he called and asked me what my schedule was that day.  I told him that I worked until 4:00.  He asked me what my schedule was like for Saturday.  I told him that I was off on Saturday.  He asked if I would like to come and pick up my new car.  I asked him which one I was getting.  He answered, “The Buick, of course!”  I cringed… immediately remembering the color (then quickly pushing that out of my mind and focusing on the more urgent issue) I could not afford the car. 

So, I immediately went to my bosses secretary (who comes in one day a week, and not always the same day, but “happened” to be there that particular day!) and asked her if she thought that my boss would be willing to advance me $250 which I would repay at $50 per week until I’d repaid it all.  She said that she would ask him.  As I was leaving her office, he walked in, so she asked him immediately!  Moments later, she appeared at my desk with an extra check (I’d already received my pay check) for $250.  And as it “happened” a woman with an office in here was going to the side of town on which I bank, so since I still didn’t have transportation, she took my pay check and the extra $250 and deposited it for me. 

I got a ride to get my car early Saturday morning.  We stopped in a grocery store parking lot to pray about the transaction.  Then she dropped me off and went on.  I saw the car… or what I assumed was the car (because as I stated earlier, I wouldn’t have known a LeSabre if one had hit me) for the first time… I had to walk around it until I found “LeSabre” on it so I was fairly certain that I was looking at the right car.  I peered in the window.  My first thought (which I quickly pushed out of my head) was, “It’s white!”  My second thought, which I later joked about was “Oh no!  I am officially middle-aged!”  I was not accustomed to having so large or so nice a car!  It was to be my very first luxury car!  I tried not to look disappointed as I stepped back and eyed the car, staring at its white color… shaking it off, ignoring a foreboding feeling and went in to sign the papers and write my check for the car.

Now at this point, I think it important to point out, I was committed to buying this car without having ever seen it; I really didn’t know what I was getting and despite my initial reaction about the car being white!

I got in the car and started back to Brownwood.  Every mile I put on the car changed my heart towards it.  The ride was so smooth!  It had so many bells and whistles – I felt I could ignore the fact that it seemed too ‘old’ a car for me… meaning; I felt that a middle-aged person would pick out something like this, but not me!  I was falling in love with my car!

The next week, the boss’s secretary was in on a Thursday and brought my pay check to me a day early.  I was anticipating the check to be $50 short, due to my agreement.  When I looked at it, however, it was for the full amount!  When I questioned the secretary about it, she informed me that the boss had decided to not have me repay the $250!!!  I was astounded!  I was beside myself!  All I could do was cry tears of gratitude!

The next week, I was stunned to find myself staring at the car through the office window and struggling with the fact that the car was white!   I refused to give much thought to the issue, it seemed so petty!  Therefore, I also refused to take the issue to God!

I tried to deal with the issue as best as I could, posting photos of the car on facebook and discussing the color of the car as not really being a true white! 

Then, one day, sitting at my work computer, I decided to go on webshots.com and search out some photos for my screen saver and compulsively decided to look for photos of Alaska.  One of my older Sisters got on Messenger and we chatted; I told her about my white car.  She asked me why there was an issue about the car being white.  I hadn’t really thought about ‘why’ until she asked and I answered that I suspected that it looked like the type of car that “JeNene” (the name given to me by my ‘adopted’ mother… she named me – as she put it – after herself… she was Jean).  My Sister was a bit surprised by that… not the concept of associating separate tastes and preferences by my various names (Jenney – birth name; JeNene – ‘adopted’ name; and Donna – legal name) but that the car looked like something JeNene would have preferred and that Jenney or Donna would not.  (I’m not saying I have split personalities…. It’s just certain things are associated with each name.) 

That night, I pondered the situation but still considered it too petty to take to God.  The next day, again at work and going through photos on webshots, this time I compulsively went through photos from Colorado!  Seemed like such a good idea at the time!  I found a lot of photos of familiar sites.  But, I also found a lot of painful memories.  The woman who ‘adopted’ me was probably responsible for about 95% of the abuse I suffered as a child.  Memories flooded my mind as I looked at photos from Colorado Springs.  Pain flooded my heart; confusion flooded my spirit.  Finally it was significant enough to take to God.  In taking it to Him, I realized things I had not really realized prior to taking it to Him.  One was that I was now angry with Him.  For, I reasoned, that He, Who knew all things knew how I would respond to the car being white!  Why did He give me a white car?!  He knew that the memories and pain would flood me and that I would feel confused, wondering why He would want me to go through all of that again!  As I prayed, I realized that the issue with the white car was in that she had always insisted on all of her cars being white!  I had never known it to be an issue for me because I had never considered buying a white car!  It wasn’t until a white car had been given to me that I realized that I even had an issue with owning a white car!

I prayed, as was my custom, in my journal while at the office.  Typically, my praying is interrupted with answering six different lines or handling walk-ins for eight different businesses.  But this particular morning, the phone didn’t ring once, nor was there even one walk-in.  Good thing, too, because I could not keep from weeping as I prayed!  I asked Him, “Is this about her?  Because You know that I have tried to find her.  I’ve looked for her house and couldn’t even find her street!  Besides, I can’t forgive her to her face.  She doesn’t believe that she’s done anything requiring my forgiveness!”  My anger was becoming stronger.  Even so, I finished the prayer with telling Him that I knew that He loves me and that I cling to Him!  Even in my hurt and confusion and being angry with Him, I clung to Him!

The next day, it was as though there was never an issue about the car being white!  I glanced at it through the window and there was no sense of foreboding or disappointment… nothing negative!  When I told my Daughter about this at home she mentioned that it was interesting how I’d had the car for a couple of weeks before the color became an issue.  I told her that it was an issue before I ever saw the car because I had been told that the car was white!  I just felt it was too petty to tell anyone about, not even God!  The next day, I thought about all of this as I was getting read for work.  I realized that throughout my life there have been a number of times I had refused to tell God about something because I feared the issue to be too petty to bother Him.  I also feared that since I had an issue with the color that would demonstrate a lack of gratitude on my part for such a grand gift!  I had been thinking Ford Focus or Honda Accord and obviously God thought, Buick LeSabre; demonstrating that He truly does bless us far beyond what we could ever dream or imagine!  I didn’t want to appear ungrateful, so I attempted to stifle the issue.  It was just too petty.

Finally, I realized that all of this served to remind me of what I had been studying recently that had appeared through several sources, and that is, “God so loves us that He pursues us like a lover”!  That concept was uncomfortable to me at first.  But the more I read about it from more than a couple of sources, the more it gradually began to sink in!  I thought how, like a lover, God desires us to bring Everything to Him!  Even, or perhaps even especially those things we consider, too petty!

All I could do again is weep tears of joy and gratitude for what He had just taught me!  It is a lesson I will not soon forget!!!!  A powerful lesson!  An amazing lesson!

If you have read my older posts, you have seen that I mention “Captivating” by John and Staci Eldredge on more than one occasion.  One thing that I recall marveling at is that God will bring us back to past experiences to demonstrate that He was there, even then.  This is what He did in my ‘white car experience’.  I share this today because I have recently ‘lived out loud’ my struggle with forgiveness and mercy for someone towards whom I did not want to show forgiveness or mercy.  I have recently ‘lived out loud’ my struggle regarding my need to repent for a particular letter written to the same individual.  I feel that the letter and my need to repent for writing it, was put upon my heart last Wednesday night in class because God wanted 1) me to repent 2) to realize that I did not handle that situation properly – I failed to turn it over to Him and 3) to cause me to look for Him, His presence in that situation.  And perhaps 4) He has me share it all here… for you.

Stunning Realization

I feel I am moving into another... phase of this... struggle.  I am very sorry I disappointed God, My Father.  I am very sorry I dishonored Him.  I am grieved about it through and through.  Maybe it's splitting hairs, but, I am still struggling with forgiveness and mercy toward her.  I admit, I know it's the right thing to do - to forgive her and show her mercy.
Maybe I am holding out because I feel I need acknowledgment that what she did was wrong - and while she deserved what I said to her in that letter, she didn't deserve it from me - or perhaps better phrased, it wasn't my place.  That's it!  It wasn't my place. Oh.
I get it, now... or perhaps better phrased, I accept it now.  It was not my place.  So I was wrong.
The issue of the 'continual', what about that now?  I do with that what I should have done in the first place instead of writing that letter; I place it in His hands and let it go.  Once it's in His hands, it's His to do with as He sees fit.  I cannot tell Him what to do with it. 
I don't know how He's going to handle that issue, but what I do know is that I trust Him.  He has done nothing but good for me in every situation of my life!  As for me, what now, what do I do with me and my hurting heart?  I lay in His arms and let Him console me while I heal and He gives me the strength and courage to forgive her and show her mercy.  I'm not there yet (the forgiveness and mercy), but I'm closer.  I know He will bring this about and His timing is perfect.  The healing begins.

Still No Mercy

My thoughts are consumed with this issue of ‘the letter’.  I search and weigh every angle.  I have prayed, I have grieved, and I have prayed some more.  I felt angry and resentful, and resisted extending forgiveness and mercy to the recipient of that letter.  I reason, how can I extend something I do not have in my heart for her?  How can I force my heart to feel something for her that I do not feel or even want to feel for her?  This is a person who continues to slander my Daughter with the same lies she told of her 16 years ago.  This is about an issue that is not over.  She shows no remorse, has never admitted any wrong doing… Wait.  I can’t do this.  I cannot plead my case against her without her present to defend herself.  Under the circumstances, that seems an inappropriate thing to do – to initiate communication to try to get this issue resolved once and for all. 

Had I known then what I know now – had I had the relationship with God then that I enjoy now, I would have taken this to Him rather than taking matters in my own hands as I did with that letter.  I would like to believe that I would have taken it to Him.  It’s all hypothetical now.  It’s easy for me to say that’s what I would have done.  I hope I would have done so.  Perhaps that is what He is laying on my heart to repent of; taking matters in my own hands.  That I can do.  I still feel, however, that along with that, He wants me to forgive her and be merciful toward her.  I cannot offer what I do not feel.   I do not know how.  I do not know how He will bring me to where He wants me, but I trust Him.  Somehow, He will accomplish even this – for I cannot.

No Mercy

Class last night brought out some things that are very troubling to me.  I realize that I live my faith inside myself.  Oh sure, I blog.  I have files of notes from personal Bible studies, notes for classes I’ve taught, notes from books I’ve read, etc.  I have three Bibles, one of which is filled with notes in the margins.  No, come to think of it, I have about five Bibles.  I have a prayer journal – a box full actually.  I attend worship, I sing, I pray.  Where is any of that outside myself?  Where is any of that an outward faith?  Where is that actually doing something for someone else?  My class notes from classes I’ve actually taught?  Sure, okay.  But I don’t teach every Sunday, every Wednesday, every quarter or even every year.  If my sporadic teaching is the extent of my giving to others… need I say more?

But that’s not exactly what the lesson was about; who is my neighbor was the thrust of the lesson.  We modernized the parable of the Good Samaritan.  You would need to understand the significance of a Samaritan as the one who showed mercy in the story to fully grasp what Jesus intended for the one asking the original question and for us today.  I’m not going to reiterate the lesson here.  I will just say that bringing it closer in, the one to whom I would find it most difficult to show mercy would be my ex-husband’s second wife.  As of this month – as of last week, actually – it’s been 18 years since my divorce.  Five years ago I was divorced from him as long as I was married to him.  Over the years I have grappled with and struggled earnestly with resentment, anger, jealousy, betrayal – a gamut of emotions and responses.  I have prayed for her.  I have sat down and talked with her face to face.  I have written her letters of encouragement, assuring her of God’s love for her; all of which I undid the year my first Grandchild was expected.  I wrote a long, nasty letter letting her know that she would not be the Grandmother of the child and that she was not welcome at the hospital.  Now I feel convicted for that letter.  It’s been nearly ten years since I wrote that horrible letter.  Not once have I felt remorse, until now.  In fact, every time I’ve thought about it, I felt justified and glad that I wrote it. 

Now, however, I’m struggling, even as I type this out, with my feelings about my remorse for the letter.  I sense that God wants me to repent for writing that letter.  That makes me feel angry.  I don’t want to repent for writing the letter.  What I did to her was a far cry less than what she did to me and to my children!  But, it’s not about that.  It’s not about me.  It’s not about her role in what happened to my children.  It’s about what God wants and what pleases Him.

I have prayed and struggled through all those feelings before and believed I had put it all behind me.  I believed that I was completely healed.  That letter is evidence that the healing was not complete.  Angry, resentful tears blur my eyes as I try to convey all of this today in this post.  So, it’s time.  It’s time for me to put my easy faith to the test – put it into practice.  I have to pray the hard prayer.  I have to ask God to heal my heart and let me be completely healed so that I may completely forgive her and be able to truly show her mercy.  I’m not going to write her another letter.  I think that the damage I did with that one letter will overshadow anything I could say to her now.  It wouldn’t matter how sincere I may be, I don’t anticipate it to be received in the manner intended.  Besides, if I was to write it today, I wouldn’t mean it.  It wouldn’t be sincere.

I have to be honest – it’s been 18 years.  I don’t want to revisit all that pain.  I don’t want to work through any more anger.  I don’t want to fight to overcome any more resentment.  I don’t want to deal with this anymore!  I have to continually stop and blot the tears from my eyes as I write.  What do I want?  Right this minute – justice! 

Father,

I do not have a heart of mercy toward her.  Every new stage of life feels like more that she is trying to rob from me!  That’s why I wrote that letter nearly 10 years ago – she already had my husband, my home, my life… for a while, she had my children and You know what a fiasco that turned out to be!  I refused to let her be any part of my Grandchildren, too. 

But in class last night, You convicted me that the letter was wrong.  It undid any good I may have done with the other letters before that one.  It just feels like the pain of those selfish decisions 18 years ago are continuing to inflict pain, continuing to steal what was rightfully mine had she not interfered with our marriage! 

Now, Father, it feels as though, any healing I may have experienced in the past has been undone.  It feels as though I have to start over.  Father, I don’t want to start over!  I’m so full of anger and bitterness and resentment toward her. 

But Father, I love You!  I cannot be this way toward her and please You – and I deeply desire to please You!  Past experience has taught me, it will not just go away.  To heal, I have to allow You to take me through a process.  You know I don’t want to, but Father, I do want to do it for You.  Please, forgive me of my refusal to show her mercy.  Please, Father, let’s begin again.  Please let me have the strength and courage to see it through to completion.  I’m tired of feeling these feelings toward her, Father.  I am not demonstrating the mercy that You have shown me.  I very much want to please You.  So, let the healing begin.

Help me to truly repent of the letter, Father.  Help me to see how You want me to truly show her mercy.  I'm not ready for the mercy, Father.  Because I want to be completely sincere in whatever I do for You!  I need to be free of all of these feelings toward her that produces the lack of mercy I have toward her.

Thank You, Father.  I'm not looking forward to this, but I know that You will be with me, as always! 

In the Perfect Name of Jesus,

Love,

Your

Daughter

First Impressions

Today I splurged and picked up a taco salad on my way home for lunch.  I have been spoiled to my Daughter and her family living with me (she usually has a sandwich or soup or leftovers from the evening meal of the day before for me every day) so when she called to let me know that she would be out of pocket, I immediately opted for the taco salad.  Sitting in my comfortable chair, ‘doctoring’ my salad with the packets of sauce, salsa and sour cream, I could not help but remember what someone told me regarding someone else’s first impression of sour cream; which soured that one on ever eating sour cream or anything known to contain sour cream.

Then my thoughts turned to the “Stoic Joy” post of yesterday and how ‘first impressions’ related to that post.  From there, my thoughts went on to Dr. Timothy Young in the Dallas area and how, with only four sessions, he helped me with my ‘first impressions’ that had been causing a problem in my life.  He told me that his job was to help me to let God rewrite my dictionary and redefine words like; love, family, Donna and ultimately, God.  So I realized that ‘first impressions’ can truly cause a lot of trouble in one’s life! 

A bad ‘first impression’ can keep one from enjoying sour cream.  Or worse, a bad ‘first impression’ can cause someone to look for love in all the wrong ways, in all the wrong places.  A faulty ‘first impression’ can cause someone to have unrealistic expectations of family, which in turn can cause heartaches and broken relationships with one’s own family!  An unrealistic ‘first impression’ of self, as given to one by one’s own family, can cause one to be precluded from living an abundant life full of love, joy, peace; God’s blessings in general.  An erroneous ‘first impression’ can cause one to be so far off base regarding God that He is feared and avoided – feared, not in a reverent way, but in a way as a child fears an abusive parent.  Fear is not the only response generated from the various, erroneous ‘first impressions’ one can have about God; some ‘first impressions’ result in harsh judgment of God.  Some people’s ‘first impressions’ of God result in false accusations of God as tyrant, or a puppeteer, or a cruel task master, etc. 

It is good that we desire to make good ‘first impressions’ whenever we meet anyone new.  Just a glance over my life reveals to me the tenacity with which I clung to my ‘first impressions’ as a child or even a teen… well, as a young adult, for that matter!  How much I missed out on by clinging stubbornly to my ‘first impressions’!  Sometimes it will take a lot of work to overcome a bad ‘first impression’.  Had I not overcome the bad ‘first impressions’ of my early life, if I were even here at all, I would not live a life enjoying the blessing of a God I did not trust!

I was taught, at an early age, that God did not have to prove anything to me!  His Word is sufficient!  Jesus dying on the cross is sufficient!  To even desire any more than that was disrespectful, irreverent and even sinful.  I am here to tell you that we do not love and serve an ancient God who is detached and out of touch with the modern world.  We love and serve a God who desires that we love Him as Abba, Father!  We love and serve a God who seeks daily communion with us!  We love and serve a God who will pursue our hearts until we finally see Him through clearer eyes – who will demonstrate His passion for us daily, proving to us again and again, that He is trustworthy!  I would have missed all of this had I not struggled to overcome my ‘first impression’ of Him!

What are some ‘first impressions’ you need to overcome?  You could be enjoying sour cream!  You could be basking in love again.  You could be repairing old tears in the fabric of your family.  You could be allowing yourself to live a joy-filled life that in turn, fills the lives of others with joy!  You could be realizing the blessings God desires to lavish on you today and every day – if you would but overcome some of your ‘first impressions’!

Stoic Joy

I find it interesting, how people perceive one another; sometimes being right on target, other times, so far off base.  Take me, for instance.  I am half Tsimshian Indian… yeah, see, the Spell Check flagged it already.  Not many have heard of Tsimshian Indians.  Tsimshians are a northwest coastal tribe that survived, primarily from the ocean and rivers.  The villages of the Tsimshians stretched from Northern California all the way up to the Yukon Territory.  We were a tribe of hunters, gatherers and fishermen with villages scattered throughout our territory.  Well, I didn’t intend to give you a lesson on Tsimshian history or culture – so suffice it to say, it has been in my nature to be rather, shall we say, stoic?  Consequently, I have been described as very serious, angry, always scowling, or just generally unhappy.  I must confess I do have a tendency to be somewhat analytical.  I am interested in knowledge and thrive on probing questions to dig deeper into a topic.  There are other factors which contributed to my nature being that of silence, contemplative, and perhaps a tad philosophical that is for another post, another time.

It is on rare occasions when someone who has known me for years, will see me ‘let my hair down’ and show my fun-side in public.  My family is aware of the rarely seen side of me, but not many of even my closest friends have seen that side.  So it is that when my fun side reveals itself, it takes people by surprise; mostly pleasantly, thank goodness!  This has been a source of concern for me through out the years; enough so that I have been praying that God would allow me to be free to reveal my heart of joy to others that I may bring joy into their lives.  Such as this morning on my way to work – well, perhaps not this morning because I was driving at the time, but I was listening to the radio and feeling my heart so full of joy and happiness that I just felt like lifting my hands to the sky and spinning joyfully around like a little girl twirling her skirt!  I felt myself smile as I pictured myself doing that – then immediately became acutely aware of my physical appearance; in actuality, I was not smiling.  I felt as though I was smiling, I felt the joy, and I could even feel the sparkle dancing in my eyes.  But there was no smile on my face.  I realize that my Tsimshian nature and personality traits that present me as primarily stoic, is evidence that the absence of a smile on someone’s face does not constitute the absence of joy in one’s heart.  However, that’s not how joy is shared.  And that is my interest; sharing joy! 

I cannot picture myself busting out in song every time I feel my spirit soar with joy.  I cannot picture myself dancing to my car to celebrate time to return home to my family in the evening.  I cannot even picture my giggle box getting stuck in the on position even in the delight of watching the discovery my Grandchildren experience or the antics that our pet kitties perform!  Still, I want to learn to share joy with others – the joy that God gives me and fills my heart to overflowing.  This is going to be a challenge for me!  I’m going to have to step out of my comfort zone in order to accomplish this feat. 

In an effort to reveal some of the joyful things I experience within, I will share a prayer I prayed in my journal, last Friday (I pray in my journal most every day, once – the rest of my prayers are private, between God and me). 

Righteous Father,

How I love You and adore You!  You are my All, my Everything!  You are Wonderful to me!  You are the air that I breathe – I cannot live without You!  You are all the beauty in my life!  You are the song in my heart!  You are the dance in my spirit!  You are the beat of my heart!  You are that excellent sensation that fills me up and overflows in love-tears from my eyes!

I love You, Father!  Please teach me to love You more!  Take hold of my heart and bring every part of my life under Your will!  Because you are Excellent and worthy of praise and adoration!  I love You, Father!  How I love You!  Please teach me to love You more!

In the Precious Name of Jesus, my loving Savior,

Love,

Your

Daughter 

To Imprecatory or Not to Imprecatory

I Googled ‘imprecatory Psalms’ and noted the links that provided a thumbnail of the contents stated primarily negative comments regarding the general consensus of the imprecatory Psalms.  One stated that C.S. Lewis hated the Psalms, period.  One link contained a warning about the disturbing content of the imprecatory Psalms.  One link (which intrigued me) was regarding the debate of whether the imprecatory Psalms should be contained in the Canon of Scripture.  The following was copied off the internet – it is an excerpt from "The Springfielder” July 1975 – Volume 39, Number 3 from the “ctsfw.net” website. 

[A LISTING OF THOSE PASSAGES IN THE PSALMS THAT CONTAIN MALEDICTIONS AND CURSES

In the passages that will be listed it should be noted that all five books of the Psalter:

1-41

42-72

73-89

107-150 contain imprecations, maledictions and curses.

5 -10

6 – 10

7 - 9-16

10 – 15

17 -13

18 - 40-42

18 – 47

26 - 4-5

28 – 4

31 – 17-18

35 - 3-8

40 – 14

54

55 – 9-19

56 – 7

58 - 6-10

59 - ll-15

68 – 2

69 (most of the psalm)

70 - 2-3

71 – 13

79 – 6-12

83 - 9-17

104 -35

109 -6-20

129

137 - 7-9

140 - 8-11

141- 10

143 – 12

149 - 6-9

The Psalms that are singled out for special censure by the critics of the Imprecatory Psalms are the fifty-fifth, sixty-ninth, one hundred and ninth, and one hundred and thirty-seventh. These psalms have been under such fire that many have revised the Psalter and removed these passages, which, in their reasoning, are unfit to be read by Christian eyes, much less uttered by Christian lips.]

Interesting.  I know I struggled with the nature of the imprecatory Psalms when I began my study in earnest last week.  However, I strongly believe in the power of God.  I therefore believe that those in the power of authority regarding the Canon of Scripture may have believed that they were making the decision regarding which books and letters and scriptures to include in the Canon, but I believe that the final outcome was according to the will of God.  I cannot believe that He would allow something to have been included that would have been contrary to His will or harmful to us; not in a book to be delivered to the world as His Holy Word!

Therefore, my conclusion stands as previously stated.  I believe that God allowed the imprecatory Psalms to be included in His Holy Word because of what we can learn from them.  An excerpt from my blog post, “Straining Toward Conclusion”;

I conclude that imprecatory prayers were, in fact, acts of obedience to God that vengeance was His, He would repay.  Since David was the primary author of the imprecatory Psalms, I conclude that David emptied the vengeance from his heart, turned it over to God and left it in His hands.  I believe that David did not concern himself with whether God answered such prayers in the manner that David requested or if He elected to show mercy.  Perhaps David remembered the words that God spoke to Moses; “I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.”  Perhaps imprecatory prayers served the same purpose as forgiveness – benefiting the one uttering the prayer by emptying out that one’s heart of the desire for vengeance as forgiveness empties the heart of the forgiver of the same thing, the desire for vengeance or justice or even the acknowledgment of wrong-doing by the offender.

Personally, I see no reason to exclude the imprecatory Psalms from Scripture or even the imprecatory verses from an otherwise praise Psalm.  I feel they serve as a wonderful and encouraging example that not only does God desire us to pour out our hearts to Him but He provides a way to help us in our desire to please Him and refrain from sinning – even in the midst of our anger, pain, anguish or urge to seek revenge.  To have the kind of relationship with God that I see depicted by the Psalmists of imprecatory Psalms is still a desire of mine.

Something More

While I am not absolutely certain that I have an accurate understanding of imprecatory Psalms, I do believe that those who prayed such prayers were likely doing so in obedience to God’s decree, “Vengeance is Mine, I will repay”.  I believe that those that prayed such prayers were likely very close to God.  I believe that they must have had an enviable relationship with Him that they utterly trusted Him and they delighted in pleasing Him and delighted in communing with Him.  I believe that those that prayed such prayers likely communed with Him frequently.  I imagine that God was as real to such people as someone standing next to them wearing flesh and bones.  I have decided I want that type of relationship with Him!  I want that solid of a faith in Him!  I prayed about this very thing this morning.  Then something amazing happened!  I received something that I wasn’t looking for, but am so grateful for this affirmation! 

As I prayed, the memory of something very intense came to the forefront of my mind.  Something I had not thought about in at least a year if not longer; something that I refer to as, “My D Day”; my day of decision.  It’s probably a good sign that I have forgotten the specific day this occurred, but I still remember the month and the year; it was May of 1986.  I had everything I had ever dreamed of and more.  I had a loving, Christian husband and two wonderful children.  I had love, security, acceptance… I had peace.  I became a Christian, deliberately, in August of 1984.  I say ‘deliberately’ because when it was beneficial, I was baptized as a young girl, as a teen… several times, actually.  Almost every time I changed foster families I would end up being baptized again.  I had quickly learned that every time I did that, it not only pleased my new foster parents, but it put me in good standing and out of trouble for a period of time.  At least until they realized that the decision was not a decision of the heart.  Oh, I didn’t know that at the time.  I didn’t realize I was manipulative and worked what ever I could to my advantage.  I was as sincere as I knew how to be. 

I married in 1977 and my personal struggle with faith began before I started ‘attending church’, before I became a Christian.  I started my first journal in 1982 – when I began searching for answers; what did it mean to be a Christian.  How does one know what to believe, who to believe – there were so many faiths from which to choose.  The Children’s Home had engrained in me the belief that there was only one way to God… what if I chose the wrong way?   Could I rely on the Bible to reveal the right way to me?  Could I trust the Bible to truly be The Word of God?  All of these questions and likely some I’ve forgotten, plagued me for a couple years before I made that deliberate decision in 1984. 

Suffice it to say, the decision had been made and I was actively involved; teaching the two and three year olds, teaching VBS, participating in “Prayer Sisters”, going to Lectureships and Ladies Retreats.  I was happy.  Life was good!  No, life was great!  And then it hit.  The deepest, darkest depression I’d ever experienced and hope never to again!  My troubled and abused childhood flooded my memory, accusing me of being unworthy of the blessed and happy life I was living, robbing me of my joy… of my peace.  Events that I had experienced and forgotten about were now flooding the majority of my thoughts.  I became more and more dysfunctional; getting lost in the fears of my childhood of failure, of being abandoned again, of being unwanted, unloved, unneeded… unnecessary.  Depression loomed darker and heavier with each passing day.  Thoughts of suicide were never far from my mind.  I just wanted the fear and pain in my heart to go away.  My husband never knew from one day to the next if he would come home to find me… well, dead.  I knew I was making him miserable and that made me even more miserable and only affirmed the accusations in my mind of my inadequacies and unworthiness.  It culminated in what I refer to as, “My D Day”. (See more about my 'D Day' in The Journey Begins) 

The memories are so vivid.  I walked out into the pasture behind the dairy on which there was a stock tank.  I felt as though I would explode.  I felt rage, fear, desperation, and confusion – all of it spiraling out of control.  I saw my husband watching me walk that direction, I heard him call to me.  I didn’t answer.  I was on my way to do something, but I didn’t know what I intended to do.  I knew I wanted it all to end and end now.  I took nothing with me.  With empty hands and a full heart of turmoil, I walked until I reached the stock tank.  I stood there, my eyes blurred from hot, angry tears.  I was shaking.  I was so desperate and chastised myself for not bringing a knife or a gun… something to use to get the deed over with quickly.  I looked at the water in the tank and watched it respond to the breeze that was blowing that day.  I saw the reflection of the clouds in the water which caused me to look up, which in turn, caused me to think about God.  Suddenly, I had a target at which to direct my anger.  I raged at Him.  I cringed while doing so, but still I raged on.  I circled the tank a few times, I think I was stomping around it because it seemed the more I emptied my heart out to God (no, I did not realize that’s what I was doing) the more intense I felt the rage.  At one point I looked up and saw my husband in the distance, watching me.  I knew what he was thinking, I’d seen the look in his eyes every day when he left the house – what was I going to do?  Would he need to dash out to me to save me from myself?  This only intensified my anger.  I hated what I was feeling and I hated what I was putting him through!  I hurled all of this at God.  At times, it almost felt as though I wanted to make Him mad, mad enough to respond to me.  ‘Look at me!  I am here!  I am in pain!’  I knew I had a Savior who had saved me from my sins.  I needed a Savior who could save me from the turmoil, anguish, and despair churning within me.  And I was demanding that He come to save me, right now.

I had reached my limit.  I could handle no more.  Even though all that I ‘knew’ about faith had me feeling as though I was treading on thin ice, talking to God the way I was, I continued raging at Him.  I feared I was being ungrateful for the sacrifice Jesus made on the cross for me.  I feared I was being ungrateful to God for sending His Son to die for my sins.  I do not remember everything I said to Him that day.  But I do recall saying that I did appreciate that He gave Jesus to save me, but as bad as it sounded, it wasn’t enough.  Going to worship, studying the Bible, teaching class, performing my Christian duties – something was missing.  I didn’t know what it was, but I was certain that if I had it, I would not be struggling with the decision of whether or not to end my life.  At one point, I accused God of holding out on me.  I said that there had to be something more!  This can’t be it.  And while I didn’t intend for it to be a threat, I can see how it would sound like one; I said that I realized I was taking a risk, talking to Him the way I did.  I told Him that I realized that if He wanted to strike me down, He could, and I said that I wouldn’t care if He did, that He would be doing me a favor.  I said that one way or another, the intense turmoil that kept me having to make the decision day to day, to live or die had to come to an end.  I either needed to die and get it over with so that my family could move on, or I needed it put behind me once and for all and move on with living.  But where I was did not constitute living.  It was a pathetic existence that I could no longer tolerate.  ‘Either let me live, or let me die.  Don’t leave me here!’

I finally talked out all of my rage.  I was empty.  I stood for a while, then sat on that gravelly bank and watched the water, wondering what would happen next.  And that’s what people always asked me, for years afterwards when I would tell of my D Day.  “What happened next?”  I always felt disappointed that I had nothing to tell them.  I didn’t know what happened next.  All I knew is that somehow, I found the strength to get up from that bank and walk home, ready to continue looking for the answers – not knowing, at the time, that I still had to find the right questions.  I answered, “What happened next?” by saying that soon, a process began that continued over several years.  That process took me from that struggling, dysfunctional state to one of a growing faith in Him. 

This brings us to today and the prayer I was praying, starting out about the imprecatory Psalms.  Remember what I stated?  ‘I want that type of relationship with Him!  I want that solid of a faith in Him!’  I told Him this in prayer and it was at that point that my D Day came to my mind.  Do I think this a coincidence?  No.  Do I think it was triggered by something else going on relative to that day?  I definitely do not.  I think that God brought the memory of my D Day to my mind to demonstrate something to me, and while He was at it, He answered a question – He answered, ‘what happened next’ so that I would have an answer ready the next time someone asks.  He laid His hand on my heart to let peace replace the turmoil and to give me strength to continue searching for the answers.  I didn’t know it at the time, but I was looking for Him.  The ‘something more’ I insisted existed somewhere, was Him!  I wanted an intimate, personal relationship with my Creator, my God, my Lord and my Savior.  I didn’t want a set of do’s and don’ts.  I didn’t want a formula, a recipe, or a new Christian project in which to get involved.  I wanted Him.  I needed Him!  It would take several more years before I began asking the right questions.  But eventually, the right questions were asked and He answered… just as He answered me today… demonstrating to me that I am closer to Him than I was on that day of decision back in 1986.  My faith is not perfect, it is not complete.  My relationship with Him needs improvement.  But today I received affirmation – He caused me to look back at how far I’ve come since that turning point in my life, My D Day.