I was using an object lesson with my kids the other day, one I read about in a book. It seemed to make sense, and I thought I'd try it out as a way to help them understand why there are rules and why they have to follow them. The basic lesson is this: parents are like an umbrella, and the rain is bad things happening. As long as you follow the rules and stay under the umbrella of your parent's protection, then you, for the most part, will stay dry and safe. But when you disobey and step outside of the protetction of the umbrella, you are opening yourself up to the rain- the consequences- the negative in the world. Well... you know how God works in my heart. For every lesson I think I'm teaching my children, God throws at least one back in my heart.
You see, as I was drawing the picture of the umbrella, the rain, and the kids standing safely under cover, it decided I had to draw another, bigger umbrella above the one that I had first drawn. I had to draw the "God" umbrella, because parents are accountable to and protected by Him. It made sense, and the kids seemed to get the idea. But God wrote it more deeply on my heart. You see, He will protect us, and He will keep us safe. We, as Christians, just need to draw near to Him, stay under the umbrella of His protection and obey His laws and He will keep us from getting soaked in the rainstorms of life. There WILL be storms, rain WILL come, difficult times WILL appear. And sometimes, even if we are under the umbrella, the hems of our pants may get a little damp. But the closer we draw to Him, the one holding the handle of the umbrella, the less the waters of the worlds' crisis will soak us. Conversely, if we decide to step out from under His cover, we run the risk of getting hosed.
It may not seem bad at first. It may be a bright sunny day without a cloud in sight. We may think it is okay to just push the envelope a little, peek out from under the edge, enjoy the warm, sunny weather. And honestly, it may be nice out there in the sun. The warmth of sunshine may feel good on our skin, the breeze more refreshing on our faces without that umbrella in the way. So we start walking along, still near to His will, but not quite in it. We can see exactly how He would like us to stay close, right up against Him, but we're having fun out here in the sun! We still know He's there, and we're not even too far away. But suddenly, the storm hits. The rain comes without warning, and the clouds darken the sky. We're left standing on our own- soaking wet, not able to clearly see the umbrella past the torrents of rain between us. We run around, searching for that safety, wishing we hadn't stepped outside of that protection to begin with, crying for Him to save us.
And He is good. He is still there, and His umbrella always has room for us to come running back. He will take us back into his arms, brush our wet hair from our eyes, and dry us with his mercy. Sure, He wishes that we never left to begin with. But the miracle of his gift of salvation is that He offers it over and over to anyone who will take it. But for me, I'm tired of the mayhem of running in the rain. Sure, the sun is fun to play in, but the safety of being in His arms during the storms is worth missing out on any earthly pleasure I can imagine. So I make it my goal to ignore the temptations of the world, to turn my eyes to Him, even when the world seems sunny. To keep my focus on staying at His side, so that when the rains come, I need just jump into his arms, right at the center of the umbrella.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Monday, August 24, 2009
Letting go
I am a very forgiving person. I don't typically hold grudges, and I am usually very quick to forgive and forget. I even avoid confrontation and just let things slide off of me rather than seething or grumbling about them repeatedly. But sometimes, every once in a while, something gets to me. It hadn't happened in a while, fortunately, and I didn't really have any one person or event that came to mind when asked "what is bugging you?" But right now... there is something. Well, I guess I should say: recently, there was something. Because I pray that God has truly changed my heart about this and helped me let it go for good.
You see, there once was a girl who I got to know. Not a "best friend" by any means, but someone I began to chat with, relate to, and even trust in many ways. We had a lot in common, and shared similar views on some things. We helped each other out and I even began to enjoy having the chance to be around this girl. At one point during our growing friendship she made me a promise. A promise that I believed, as I had seen her keep the same promise to someone else. Somewhere along the way she decided that it was okay to break this promise. And she did. And when she did it left me feeling used, betrayed, and disrespected. I felt like my feelings, my life was so unimportant to her that she could just walk away from this promise without a second thought. It hurt, and I won't deny it. And the emotional impact of her decision was far worse than the undelivered goods of the promise. It was no longer about what I didn't get, it was suddenly about what I meant (or didn't mean) to her. And that hurt.
This promise was broken quite some time ago. Way longer ago than I care to admit, even to myself. But the pain is still there. And every once in a while, like these past few days, the pain resurfaces- usually because of a comment or an action that remind me of my unimportance in her world. I struggled horribly this weekend. I let anger seethe in my heart. I let my soul wrench with the repeated experience of the pain of betrayal. I let my heart ache, once again, over hurts that should have long since been healed. I cried, I yelled, and I cried some more, begging God to take away these destructive, rotting feelings in my heart. Little by little I started feeling it loosen up, I started feeling the iceberg melt, started letting the anger subside. But at the core, the pain was still there. Until today. I was reading a book about parenting and discipline and teaching to the very heart of our children. I was thumbing through a section filled with scripture that is useful for speaking God's will to their hearts, for adding validity to the rules and expectations our discipline is to enforce. And just when I thought I was trying to be a better parent to my kids, God once again reminded me that becoming a better mother is as much about becoming a better ME. Scriptures began assaulting the anger in my heart. I was flooded with Proverbs 11:24, Luke 6:30-31, Ephesians 4: 26-27, Proverbs 19:11, Romans 12:18, and most importantly, Proverbs: 20:22 : Do not say, 'I'll pay you back for this wrong!' Wait for the Lord, and He will deliver you.
I was overcome by God's grace, filled with His love, and assaulted with His convicting words. I pray that He continues to use these words to soften my heart, to help me find that (usually so freely available) forgiveness that He expects from me, to end the bitterness that this situation has brought to my life. For only He can heal me. Only He can give peace to my heart. And ultimately, only He can judge.
You see, there once was a girl who I got to know. Not a "best friend" by any means, but someone I began to chat with, relate to, and even trust in many ways. We had a lot in common, and shared similar views on some things. We helped each other out and I even began to enjoy having the chance to be around this girl. At one point during our growing friendship she made me a promise. A promise that I believed, as I had seen her keep the same promise to someone else. Somewhere along the way she decided that it was okay to break this promise. And she did. And when she did it left me feeling used, betrayed, and disrespected. I felt like my feelings, my life was so unimportant to her that she could just walk away from this promise without a second thought. It hurt, and I won't deny it. And the emotional impact of her decision was far worse than the undelivered goods of the promise. It was no longer about what I didn't get, it was suddenly about what I meant (or didn't mean) to her. And that hurt.
This promise was broken quite some time ago. Way longer ago than I care to admit, even to myself. But the pain is still there. And every once in a while, like these past few days, the pain resurfaces- usually because of a comment or an action that remind me of my unimportance in her world. I struggled horribly this weekend. I let anger seethe in my heart. I let my soul wrench with the repeated experience of the pain of betrayal. I let my heart ache, once again, over hurts that should have long since been healed. I cried, I yelled, and I cried some more, begging God to take away these destructive, rotting feelings in my heart. Little by little I started feeling it loosen up, I started feeling the iceberg melt, started letting the anger subside. But at the core, the pain was still there. Until today. I was reading a book about parenting and discipline and teaching to the very heart of our children. I was thumbing through a section filled with scripture that is useful for speaking God's will to their hearts, for adding validity to the rules and expectations our discipline is to enforce. And just when I thought I was trying to be a better parent to my kids, God once again reminded me that becoming a better mother is as much about becoming a better ME. Scriptures began assaulting the anger in my heart. I was flooded with Proverbs 11:24, Luke 6:30-31, Ephesians 4: 26-27, Proverbs 19:11, Romans 12:18, and most importantly, Proverbs: 20:22 : Do not say, 'I'll pay you back for this wrong!' Wait for the Lord, and He will deliver you.
I was overcome by God's grace, filled with His love, and assaulted with His convicting words. I pray that He continues to use these words to soften my heart, to help me find that (usually so freely available) forgiveness that He expects from me, to end the bitterness that this situation has brought to my life. For only He can heal me. Only He can give peace to my heart. And ultimately, only He can judge.
Friday, August 21, 2009
The Potter
"Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand." Jeremiah 18:6
I have struggled over the years with my faults. Accepting myself for who, what, and how I am. I can list many "flaws," too many to even begin to start laying out. I have been frustrated with my emotional weaknessess, discouraged by my physical imperfections, and embarrased by my social shortcomings. I have often wished to be more. More beautiful, more intelligent, more graceful, more cheerful, more intentional, more likeable. If I allow myself to be, I will inevitably be my own worst critic. I will wish that my flaws would just melt away, and that I could be more "ideal." I have even found myself weeping over what I see as an impossible fault. But God doesn't see it that way. He doesn't ever shed a tear about any aspect of who I am. He doesn't look at me with disappointment or discouragement over what He made me to be.
God made me this way. He put dimples in the surface of my heart. He put ridges in the contour of my emotions, gave shape to the intricacies of my unique personality. He built my body, bones, flesh, and all, exactly how He intended. He is the Potter, and He had a unique, specific purpose in mind when He shaped me. He knew exactly what my life would hold, how it may be a reservoir of hope, a vessel of courage, a basin of belief to the world around me. He knows every aspect of my life, even the ones I label "flawed" or "imperfect" or "irregular." But He doesn't agree. His hand shaped each of those places in my life, and He purposefully designed each and every one. I am starting to get the feeling that He is heartbroken when He hears me discounting and despairing over my imperfections. That He hopes I can someday see the amazing purpose that He had in mind when He uniquely and fearfully made ME. me. I get so excited at that possibility.
I have struggled over the years with my faults. Accepting myself for who, what, and how I am. I can list many "flaws," too many to even begin to start laying out. I have been frustrated with my emotional weaknessess, discouraged by my physical imperfections, and embarrased by my social shortcomings. I have often wished to be more. More beautiful, more intelligent, more graceful, more cheerful, more intentional, more likeable. If I allow myself to be, I will inevitably be my own worst critic. I will wish that my flaws would just melt away, and that I could be more "ideal." I have even found myself weeping over what I see as an impossible fault. But God doesn't see it that way. He doesn't ever shed a tear about any aspect of who I am. He doesn't look at me with disappointment or discouragement over what He made me to be.
God made me this way. He put dimples in the surface of my heart. He put ridges in the contour of my emotions, gave shape to the intricacies of my unique personality. He built my body, bones, flesh, and all, exactly how He intended. He is the Potter, and He had a unique, specific purpose in mind when He shaped me. He knew exactly what my life would hold, how it may be a reservoir of hope, a vessel of courage, a basin of belief to the world around me. He knows every aspect of my life, even the ones I label "flawed" or "imperfect" or "irregular." But He doesn't agree. His hand shaped each of those places in my life, and He purposefully designed each and every one. I am starting to get the feeling that He is heartbroken when He hears me discounting and despairing over my imperfections. That He hopes I can someday see the amazing purpose that He had in mind when He uniquely and fearfully made ME. me. I get so excited at that possibility.
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Temper tantrums
I just love how God meets me right when I need him.
I had one of those mornings today. You know the kind- somehow you don't get enough coffee on board quite early enough, everyone seems to have their own agenda, none of which mesh well together, and several tired, impatient people end up with miscommunications and miffed feelings. So I was driving to church, alone in my car, with my family in the van in front of me. I was feeling mad, I was feeling hurt, I was feeling self righteous indignation about who knows what. I had let frustration creep in and convince me that I was unloved, unimportant, and disrespected. I was vaccillating between tears and anger, screaming harsh words as loud as I could, so much that my throat got sore. I wallowed in self pity, in anger, and in my own selfishness. I was in the midst of a full blown temper tantrum. And I didn't want out. I wanted apologies. I didn't want God to soften my heart, ease my pain- not at all. I wanted groveling, foot kissing, "I'm wrong" spouting apologies, and furthermore I wanted doting appreciation for everything I had done all week- no- all month long.
Well. God knew better. He knew that I didn't need that. He knew that if I started getting that kind of treatment, then I would start thinking I deserved it. And honestly, the impatience and the griping and the misunderstandings of the morning were as much my fault as anyone elses. I started to feel my anger simmering down, my heart softening like butter set on a warm stovetop. Wait a second! No way! Not this time. My anger flared up again and I wrestled with God. Come on! I've come so far! I'm so much less selfish these days. My expectations are so much fewer and I really do try hard all the time to serve, to love, to act for everyone except me... doesn't that earn me a day of moping. Doesn't that buy me at least one groveling apology!?!? I shook my fists in my mind and stomped my feet like a 2 year old. I could just see in my mind's eye how my heart must have looked to God. Do you remember the troll dolls with the wild hair in bright neon colors? I bet right then God looked at my heart and saw a pink-haired troll doll, shaking her fists and stomping her feet, yelling, "Me me me me me!!!"
But God is good. And He knows what we need, even when it isn't what we think we need. I wanted an earthly apology. I wanted appreciation and acknowledgement from people- people who, like me, are imperfect and incapable of meeting my every desire or need. My radio suddenly became quite clearly audible, as Third Day sang Call My Name loudly through the speakers of my car.
"It's been so long since you felt like you were loved
so what went wrong
but do you know there's a place where you belong
here in my arms
when you feel like you're alone in your sadness
it seems like no one else in this whole world cares
and you want to get away from the madness
you just call my name and i'll be there
you just call my name and i'll be there
the pain inside has erased your hope for love
soon you will find
that i'll give you all that your heart could ever want
and so much more."
My temper tantrum soon turned to tears. At first they were tears of frustration, that once again the things I swore I deserved and would hold onto in anger until I received... once again these things were melting away in importance. Once again God was softening my heart and I would be the one to give in. But the frustration over these realities soon turned to praise. To elation that God is so good that He can fill me up with His love and His presence, that He can meet my every need in a way that is so much deeper than words spoken by earthly lips can ever match. To tears of overwhelming thanks, that God could use words I have heard sung dozens of times to reach into a lonely part of my heart and fill me up with what He knew I needed. My temper tantrum was over. I didn't like letting go of the selfish, angry, indignation that my mind had so neatly justified. But the fullness that God put in it's place was so much sweeter, so much more comforting, and so much more lasting. And the peace it brings will never fail me. His love will sustain me, despite my tantrums.
I had one of those mornings today. You know the kind- somehow you don't get enough coffee on board quite early enough, everyone seems to have their own agenda, none of which mesh well together, and several tired, impatient people end up with miscommunications and miffed feelings. So I was driving to church, alone in my car, with my family in the van in front of me. I was feeling mad, I was feeling hurt, I was feeling self righteous indignation about who knows what. I had let frustration creep in and convince me that I was unloved, unimportant, and disrespected. I was vaccillating between tears and anger, screaming harsh words as loud as I could, so much that my throat got sore. I wallowed in self pity, in anger, and in my own selfishness. I was in the midst of a full blown temper tantrum. And I didn't want out. I wanted apologies. I didn't want God to soften my heart, ease my pain- not at all. I wanted groveling, foot kissing, "I'm wrong" spouting apologies, and furthermore I wanted doting appreciation for everything I had done all week- no- all month long.
Well. God knew better. He knew that I didn't need that. He knew that if I started getting that kind of treatment, then I would start thinking I deserved it. And honestly, the impatience and the griping and the misunderstandings of the morning were as much my fault as anyone elses. I started to feel my anger simmering down, my heart softening like butter set on a warm stovetop. Wait a second! No way! Not this time. My anger flared up again and I wrestled with God. Come on! I've come so far! I'm so much less selfish these days. My expectations are so much fewer and I really do try hard all the time to serve, to love, to act for everyone except me... doesn't that earn me a day of moping. Doesn't that buy me at least one groveling apology!?!? I shook my fists in my mind and stomped my feet like a 2 year old. I could just see in my mind's eye how my heart must have looked to God. Do you remember the troll dolls with the wild hair in bright neon colors? I bet right then God looked at my heart and saw a pink-haired troll doll, shaking her fists and stomping her feet, yelling, "Me me me me me!!!"
But God is good. And He knows what we need, even when it isn't what we think we need. I wanted an earthly apology. I wanted appreciation and acknowledgement from people- people who, like me, are imperfect and incapable of meeting my every desire or need. My radio suddenly became quite clearly audible, as Third Day sang Call My Name loudly through the speakers of my car.
"It's been so long since you felt like you were loved
so what went wrong
but do you know there's a place where you belong
here in my arms
when you feel like you're alone in your sadness
it seems like no one else in this whole world cares
and you want to get away from the madness
you just call my name and i'll be there
you just call my name and i'll be there
the pain inside has erased your hope for love
soon you will find
that i'll give you all that your heart could ever want
and so much more."
My temper tantrum soon turned to tears. At first they were tears of frustration, that once again the things I swore I deserved and would hold onto in anger until I received... once again these things were melting away in importance. Once again God was softening my heart and I would be the one to give in. But the frustration over these realities soon turned to praise. To elation that God is so good that He can fill me up with His love and His presence, that He can meet my every need in a way that is so much deeper than words spoken by earthly lips can ever match. To tears of overwhelming thanks, that God could use words I have heard sung dozens of times to reach into a lonely part of my heart and fill me up with what He knew I needed. My temper tantrum was over. I didn't like letting go of the selfish, angry, indignation that my mind had so neatly justified. But the fullness that God put in it's place was so much sweeter, so much more comforting, and so much more lasting. And the peace it brings will never fail me. His love will sustain me, despite my tantrums.
Friday, August 14, 2009
Perspective
It is funny how something can really feel so very different depending on what your perspective is when you approach it. Looking at something with a doubtful, negative eye can really make it hard to accept or appreciate. But seeing the good in the same situation and making the best of what is left can really change the way you feel about it.
For instance, there was recently an opportunity for some career changes around here. The hope was that they would improve our financial situation, give us more flexibility in our family schedule, and relieve a little frustration that currently exists. The possibility was very good that this change would happen, and we allowed ourselves to dream a little and get quite excited about what it would mean for us. As with anything, there were some "cons" (if you will) to this opportunity, but while we were dreaming those weren't as apparent. Well, the opportunity didn't end up becoming all we had hoped for, and the change won't be coming anytime soon. At first it was a tough blow, we were both disappointed, let down, even a little angry that our hopes had been yanked from us. But after a few days, a lot of prayer, and a little hindsight it is easy to see that things as they are right now are still pretty good. We have both accepted fully that the change wasn't meant to be, and we have an amazing peace about it. Now it would be easy to focus on the lost dreams, the things we were looking forward to that now won't become reality, to pout about missed opportunities. There was a time in my life that I would have gotten stuck there, probably for quite some time, and I would have moped around for days, miffed that it fell through. But God has changed my heart, and He truly helps me accept that His ways are higher than my ways. And when I look at the things of this earth with my own eyes, they sometimes might not make sense. But God can see so much more. He can see the whole picture, the missing pieces that He has yet to drop into place. He knows the plans He has for us, and He will carry them through. So I'm trying to look at things from God's perspective. Sometimes that means I may not be able to see where I'm going or what is coming.
Like last night, when I got called into work. It was 11pm and I was heading into the ER instead of sleeping soundly in my bed. I was thrown together, my contacts at home in their case, and my glasses sported sleepily on the bridge of my nose. I stepped out of my air-conditioned car into the muggy, humid night and headed for the door of the ER. Within seconds the moisture in the air completely fogged up my lenses. I couldn't see more than shadows and movements, barely able to see anything beyond the inch between my eyeballs and my glasses. But I knew where the ER was and I trusted that it would still be there. So I kept walking. It was a bit disconcerting, trekking along in the dark parking lot, unable to really see where I was going, relying on the noises around me to tell me if the ambulance I spotted on the way in was moving towards me or still parked in my path. But I knew that the ER would be right where I last knew it to be. I knew where the curbs in the parking lot were, and where the access panel to the doors is mounted. So I kept walking, and eventually I made it through the doors and into the familiar walls of the ER. Sometimes it is like that with God. I know He is there, I know He will take me down the path that He designed for my life. I just have to trust and walk, using His word and the reassurance of the many fulfilled promises He has already blessed me with as my guide. And when the humidity fogs my lenses and I can't see more than glimpses and shadows of what is in front of me, I can keep walking, knowing that He never moves, He never changes, and He will never let me down.
So I praise Him, for this ever growing ability to stop looking at my life circumstances through flawed, shielded, earthly eyes. I praise Him for the way He is continually growing and stretching my ability to see things with a God perspective- even when that means I can't see more than an inch in front of my face. I praise Him for the peace that He brings me and the trust that grows through these perspectives.
For instance, there was recently an opportunity for some career changes around here. The hope was that they would improve our financial situation, give us more flexibility in our family schedule, and relieve a little frustration that currently exists. The possibility was very good that this change would happen, and we allowed ourselves to dream a little and get quite excited about what it would mean for us. As with anything, there were some "cons" (if you will) to this opportunity, but while we were dreaming those weren't as apparent. Well, the opportunity didn't end up becoming all we had hoped for, and the change won't be coming anytime soon. At first it was a tough blow, we were both disappointed, let down, even a little angry that our hopes had been yanked from us. But after a few days, a lot of prayer, and a little hindsight it is easy to see that things as they are right now are still pretty good. We have both accepted fully that the change wasn't meant to be, and we have an amazing peace about it. Now it would be easy to focus on the lost dreams, the things we were looking forward to that now won't become reality, to pout about missed opportunities. There was a time in my life that I would have gotten stuck there, probably for quite some time, and I would have moped around for days, miffed that it fell through. But God has changed my heart, and He truly helps me accept that His ways are higher than my ways. And when I look at the things of this earth with my own eyes, they sometimes might not make sense. But God can see so much more. He can see the whole picture, the missing pieces that He has yet to drop into place. He knows the plans He has for us, and He will carry them through. So I'm trying to look at things from God's perspective. Sometimes that means I may not be able to see where I'm going or what is coming.
Like last night, when I got called into work. It was 11pm and I was heading into the ER instead of sleeping soundly in my bed. I was thrown together, my contacts at home in their case, and my glasses sported sleepily on the bridge of my nose. I stepped out of my air-conditioned car into the muggy, humid night and headed for the door of the ER. Within seconds the moisture in the air completely fogged up my lenses. I couldn't see more than shadows and movements, barely able to see anything beyond the inch between my eyeballs and my glasses. But I knew where the ER was and I trusted that it would still be there. So I kept walking. It was a bit disconcerting, trekking along in the dark parking lot, unable to really see where I was going, relying on the noises around me to tell me if the ambulance I spotted on the way in was moving towards me or still parked in my path. But I knew that the ER would be right where I last knew it to be. I knew where the curbs in the parking lot were, and where the access panel to the doors is mounted. So I kept walking, and eventually I made it through the doors and into the familiar walls of the ER. Sometimes it is like that with God. I know He is there, I know He will take me down the path that He designed for my life. I just have to trust and walk, using His word and the reassurance of the many fulfilled promises He has already blessed me with as my guide. And when the humidity fogs my lenses and I can't see more than glimpses and shadows of what is in front of me, I can keep walking, knowing that He never moves, He never changes, and He will never let me down.
So I praise Him, for this ever growing ability to stop looking at my life circumstances through flawed, shielded, earthly eyes. I praise Him for the way He is continually growing and stretching my ability to see things with a God perspective- even when that means I can't see more than an inch in front of my face. I praise Him for the peace that He brings me and the trust that grows through these perspectives.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Busy...
So life seems to just be running on without my consent. Every day I turn around and something else has found it's way onto my calendar. I feel like I can't even keep up some days. The good news is that most of it is fun, happy, rewarding stuff. The bad news is that I'm exhausted. I need a break, yet again. And the possibility that loomed just ahead that may have offered that break... well, it isn't happening. So onward I plug. Back to more of the same.
I'm just going to have to start writing more. It usually keeps me sane ;)
I'm just going to have to start writing more. It usually keeps me sane ;)
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