Beauty For Ashes

Houston, We Have a Problem

2013-11-10T18:06:00.001-08:00

You know that thing where you feel completely at peace about an old conflict? You are ok about it now. You’ve forgiven. Been forgiven. Phew! Maturity and peace at last! It’s totally done, right?..

Until you run into that person unexpectedly and your stomach squeezes up, your expression sours, and you maniacally duck behind cars in a parking lot and hide until the person you had no idea you still had venom in your heart for finally leaves? And, all the while you’re thinking What in the blue blazes is wrong with me? What am I — 12?

Or, if the situation cannot be avoided and you have to have a polite interaction with this unfortunate old friend and you realize you suddenly feel the urge to bite them — hard? And, all the while you’re thinking I could totally do that right now and it would feel so stinkin’ awesome! What am I — in preschool?

I had a dream the other night that fully displayed the ugliness in my heart. I dreamt of a circumstance where I was at a social gathering and unexpectedly saw a person who has consistently been extremely difficult and caused a lot of pain over a lot of years (self-righteously, aggressively and absolutely unrepentantly). This former friend who I seriously thought I’d forgiven ages ago, thoroughly, haven’t-even-thought-about-it-in-forever kind of forgiven, walked up to me to start a conversation and my response was an emotional volcano. Like a raving lunatic, I thrust both arms straight out, palms flat in the universal sign for Stop Right Where You Are, and said “NO! You need to back up far away from me. Right now.”

I woke up and thought,

Houston, we have a problem.

That’s not me! For many years, yes, I struggled with being that foolish, emotional lunatic woman reacting wildly out of confusion, shock, grief and anger, increasing fear, insecurity, and the supreme agony of a crumbling, destructive marriage, but I’m not the person I used to be, thank GOD! He is helping me kill the crazy lady (over and over again) and I’ve made so much progress, but I cannot do it by myself any more than a puny pre-teen could kill a 9 ½ foot giant (1 Samuel 17) without the Lord doing the job through him. I can talk the talk, but walking the walk is like wearing lead boots. I simply am not capable of walking out of crazy-town on my own.

No matter what the relationship or circumstances, it takes the strength of God Almighty to walk in mercy and grace towards people who hurt you “deliberately, willfully, presumptuously, impudently, boastingly, maliciously, frequently, obstinately, with delight, and continually” (Westminster Larger Catechism) and to let go of what they continually, purposefully do while not letting it dig under your skin and poison you.

Remember that scene in Spiderman 3? The ultimate Nice Guy Peter Parker has grown obsessed with revenge and this evil, alien entity attacks him wrapping around his body, encasing him in the black, tarry mystery substance. This parasitic extraterrestrial has changed him into a dark character and amplified his aggression and desire for vengeance, which initially feels good and powerful, but it takes him almost to the brink of dangerous madness. When he sheds the malevolent tar in the bell tower of the Church, the black gooey stuff falls on Eddie Brock taking him over and he becomes the villain Venom.

“The panic (of deeply broken relationships, the silence, the rejection, the harsh words, the absence of intimacy, the questions, the lack of answers, the hurt) completely changes people — makes them act in ways they normally never would.” ~ Lysa TerKeurst

That’s it! Bitter, scornful, hateful, mocking, stomach-squeezing, aggressive, putrid unforgiveness is that vile and dangerous! It will take you over and it will take you down!

Unforgiveness can steal your thoughts, your joy, and even your health.

“Not forgiving — nursing a grudge — is so caustic, it raises your blood pressure, depletes your immune function, makes you more depressed and causes enormous physical stress to the whole body.” ~ Fred Luskin, PhD, a health psychologist at Stanford University and author of Forgive for Good: A Proven Prescription for Health and Happiness

So, when dealing with difficult, destructive, or dangerous people or in painful, unfair situations, how do you firmly land in grace territory and also be a person with healthy boundaries, while not allowing your heart to get bound up in the gooey black tar of hidden unforgiveness and resentment?

It is definitely a process. It may feel cyclical in that you might think you’ve made a lot of headway and suddenly find yourself back at the beginning again. That’s ok. That’s normal. Hang in, babe.

Before forgiveness is even possible, you have to acknowledge what happened that caused you pain. Think back, walk through it, let yourself look at the situation from beginning to end. Maybe it was years long and this may take a while to unfold, or you may need a friend or two who knew what happened help you sort out the details that have gotten smashed together. You may need to talk this out with a counselor who can help you pull out the parts you’ve not wanted to admit happened especially if there was shame and/or abuse involved. But, spend some time there, acknowledge it, allow yourself to admit what hurt and why.

In the middle of that, please remember you are valuable, loved and cherished. It’s a good idea to have someone walk through the messy parts with you — a loving spouse or friend.

Remind yourself:

God loves your weakness because it is perfected in His Strength (2 Corinthians 12:9).
There is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus (Romans 8:1).
We aren’t called to forgive, or invited to forgive, or asked to forgive. It isn’t a suggestion. We are commanded to forgive because we’ve been forgiven so much! (Colossians 3:13)
It’s something that we choose to do in faith and it’s required again and again. (Matthew 18:21-22)

I am absolutely Guilty As Charged for being: selfish, self-centered, immature, touchy, controlling, sharp, envious, discontented, ungracious, suspicious, gossip-y and on and on. I’ve thought really bad things. I’ve said really bad things. I’ve done really bad things and yet I’ve been forgiven. So, I have no reason on earth not to extend that same inconceivable, no holds barred, lavish grace and mercy on those around me. Even those who have done the most harm. Even the remorseless.

It always comes down to Love, doesn’t it?

Love changes the whole ballgame.

In a weird sense, what someone else chooses to do to you or me is none of our business. Hang on, you might be thinking WHAT?! Of course, it’s my business! but hear me out.

It’s God’s job to bring justice, not yours or mine. It’s God’s job to speak to others’ hearts, not yours or mine. As Joyce Meyer says, I’m not Holy Spirit, Jr. We might need to press into relationship with difficult people or through really hard situations purely out of obedience to God, even if that person doesn’t see the harm they’ve done or feels self-righteous about it.

“Avoiding people who’ve disappointed you is an easy thing; moving towards them and praying for redemption is a Gospel thing.” — Scotty Smith

It doesn’t mean that we cannot still pray for God to deal with injustices in His perfect way (which we usually do not understand and sometimes takes a long, long, long time to come about). Depending on the situation, we might need to make wide, tall boundaries, or put safe “bodyguards” in place to handle unpredictable circumstances. We might even need to make a clean cut and stay away from it all together for safety’s and sanity’s sake. Particularly in cases of repeated abuse, it’s important to remember that there’s no command to forgive & forget. For a lot of women forgiving & forgetting has been tremendously dangerous.

But, it's my job to be aware of my own sin and deal with that between me and God. Daily root out bitterness. Daily cut out self-righteousness. My heart and my standing with God is my concern. What I choose to do with His unimaginable love and forgiveness is my choice. I can either throw it away with scorn, and sarcasm, and division, and focus on anger and upsetness, injustice and resentment, or rejoice in the goodness and mercy of what He has done for me and choose to leave the rest to Him. That's easily said sitting in my comfy chair with a cup of pomegranate tea, but it is brutally hard in the face of radical betrayal, particularly unapologetic, radical betrayal. Especially the “deliberate, willful, presumptuous, impudent, boasting, malicious, frequent, obstinate, with delight, and continual” kind.

To tell you the truth, I started researching, studying and writing this several days ago and then was dealt an awful, ironic and cruel injustice and had to start the battle from scratch again. I’m really glad that my initial response was Jesus, I cannot touch this thing with a ten-foot pole or I will get eaten alive! I choose forgiveness right now! God, this is Your problem, not mine. That helped, but it has been wicked hard. My heart is so easily filled with immature, selfish, petulant, vengeful thoughts, particularly when stung bitterly. It makes me daily cry out Oh, Father, please don’t ever leave me as I am. Change my heart, Abba!

Forgiveness really is a scandalous decision. For God to forgive me and forgive you when we still choose to betray Him and His covenant over and over again — it’s nonsensical, preposterous. For you to forgive, for me to forgive — it’s 100% counter-culture. A rebel yell of Jesus-culture.

It's an act of brazen defiance against my own flesh. Choosing soft-heartedness is choosing to have your heart tenderized with a meat mallet. It's painful. It's bloody. It changes the shape of you. It changes your malleability. Lord, whatever you have to pound out, pound away.

But, it’s something we must do out of obedience to God and it is for our benefit. What do we get out of choosing to forgive others? FREEDOM! Freedom from the tarry, malevolent parasite of resentment, anger, bitterness. Freedom to love those around us wholeheartedly. Freedom to dream of and pursue happy reunions and beautiful reconciliations. Freedom to live the abundant life (John 10:10).

Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. — Colossians 3:13

I have $19.13

2013-10-27T17:33:00.000-07:00

I have $19.13.

$19.13 and a stack of unpaid bills with no clue how they will get paid. My three younger children and I live with my parents. The only belongings I have with me are my clothing, bathroom stuff, a computer, desk, fax machine, books, a few Christmas decorations, and a broken camera. My car has needed serious repairs (as in — it could become inoperable at any time) and two new tires for a year, and I'm almost out of gas. There is not enough food in the fridge and pantry for two days. The milk ran out three days ago. I have been looking for more work for a long time, but no one is chomping at the bit to hire someone who has been a stay-at-home, homeschooling mother of five with a wrist injury that has needed surgery for over a year, and without a college degree. We just keep falling further and further below the poverty line.

It is a daily battle to not freak out. The grasper within me could definitely spin and spin on "What am I going to do?" 24/7.

Standing on a road I didn't plan

Wondering how I got to where I am

I'm trying to hear that still small Voice

I'm trying to hear above the noise

How many times have You heard me cry out

"God please take this"?

How many times have You given me strength to

Just keep breathing?

Oh I need You

God, I need You now.

~ From "Need You Now" by Plumb

Of course, unlike the issue of relational vulnerability, it is zero surprise to me that I have a deep need for security. It's one of the top needs for all women, especially mothers. It's right up there with the needs for:

Love

Physical safety/ protection from danger

Devotion/ being cared for and valued

Faithfulness

Honesty, trustworthiness and openness

Affection (not sex) as well as sexual intimacy

Nothing can bring a real sense

of security into the home

except true love.

~ Billy Graham

Heck, it's right up there with the need for oxygen and food!

Given that, I was shocked when God asked me this question…

"What do you spend more time dwelling on, Anna

— your lack of security and provision, or Me?"

Those who cling to worthless idols

turn away from God's love for them. — Jonah 2:8

Whatever I focus on grows. Whatever I study, nurture and dwell on develops within me. Do I want that to be fear? Anger? Disappointment? Do I want to get swallowed up by injustice? Eaten alive by bitterness, hard-heartedness, and self-righteousness? NO!

I've committed to being a daily repenter and a fierce prayer warrior. I’ve committed to being a second-chance-grace person, someone whose last answer is always forgiveness and grace. Forgive, pray, bless. No excuses. No exceptions.

I want my focus to be radical trust in God. I want the fruits of the spirit to grow within me. Love, joy, peace, long-suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Hope. Forgiveness. Thankfulness. Humility. Mercy. Grace. Joy. I want those fruits to be manifest in pouring out love upon others. Sharing the Gospel. Others-focus. Service. Compassion. Reckless, obedient giving.

One story I love about courageous faith is Elijah and the widow at Zarephath. She’d gotten down to only enough flour and oil to make one small meal for herself and her son before they would starve. But, God sent Elijah to her after he’d been hiding in the Kerith Ravine miraculously fed meat and bread by ravens morning and evening. She and her son were saved by her incredible faith and obedience to first make a meal for Elijah, and believe that God would provide for them. (1 Kings 17:7-16)

Here is the ultimate question that everyone has to wrestle with:

Do I trust that God is good?

It’s interesting that that question assumes that if something bad happens, it's His fault, His choice, He did it, which of course isn’t true at all! Some things are the result of our own sin and the natural consequences that follow. Some things are done to us because there is sin in the world. In neither of those situations did God do the bad thing! Once we figure that out we have to struggle with the problem of God allowing evil to occur foreknowing the exact ways He planned to cause all of it to work together for good (Romans 8:28).

Fear is simply not relying upon His goodness and mercy. The desire to somehow control my circumstances isn’t trusting His sovereignty. Under that foundational, core-of-my-being need for security is a desperate cry for the safety of love, not temporal love because all of mankind (men & women) is sinful and selfish, but God's safe, sure, unrelenting Love.

That Love never abandons. Ever.

Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified for the Lord your God goes with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. — Deuteronomy 31:6

So, do I trust God and believe in His goodness and His love when we have no milk for several days?

When there is no gas in the car?

When my children's shoes have holes?

When the 30th application for a job goes unanswered?

Or the 40th?

Do I have the chutzpa to fully trust God absolutely no matter what? No holds barred. Even if nothing ever gets any better?

Can I live a life truly full of Holy Spirit joy in the face of absolute uncertainty?

Can I set aside worry and humbly give God the sacrifice of heartfelt praise for His tender mercies?

Do I have the fortitude to proclaim "Yes" to whatever unknown is before me and trust that God is holding me, His beloved, safely with His righteous right Hand?

Am I brave enough to fight fear with the spiritual weapon of a thankful heart, mind and mouth?

Am I audacious enough to be grateful for our daily bread letting tomorrow's needs be put off until tomorrow?

"The seeds of depression cannot take root in a grateful heart." — Jones, in Andy Andrews' The Noticer

Today:

I have $19.13 which is more than $0.

We have a roof over our heads and live-in encouragement.

We have clothes to wear.

There is a little bit of gas in my car, she keeps running, and the tires, like the Israelite's shoes that didn't wear out for 40 years (Deuteronomy 8:4), have made it way, way longer than they have any right to!

There is food for right now in the fridge and the pantry.

I get daily kisses and snuggles from three of my kids.

I have friends to call on for support and who’ve got my six.

I have prayer warriors who do battle on my behalf as I have the privilege to do for them.

I have a great, big God who sees our every need, and He is the God who loves beyond my ability to comprehend.

I wish sometimes that I didn't live in a state of constant desperation for God's immediate intervention, until I realize — wait — that's the very best place to be.

Desperate need is the birthplace of abundance. God does some of His best work in the direst of circumstances. Desperation is a breeding ground for miracles! It’s also the school of humility, repentance, compassion, empathy, prayerfulness, submission, will-lessness, others-centeredness, a grateful heart, and laying down the Me-Monster of "my way". Desperation is the genesis of spiritual growth and maturity.

So, I say yes. Yes, with deep thankfulness for His mercy, His salvation, His grace upon grace upon grace. And, it is going to be ok. Way more than ok. He's the God who turned five loaves of bread and two fish into food enough for five thousand, plus twelve baskets full left over (Matthew 14:13-20). He’s the God who turned two servings left of oil & flour for bread into food enough for three in a time of severe famine.

Who knows what unimaginable things He can do with $19.13?

It's from the deepest wounds that beauty finds a place to bloom,

and you will see before the end

that every broken piece is gathered

in the heart of Jesus and what's lost

will be found again.

~ From “Nothing Is Wasted” by Jason Gray

God is a safe place to hide, ready to help when we need Him. We stand fearless at the cliff-edge of doom, courageous in seastorm and earthquake, before the rush and roar of oceans, the tremors that shift mountains. Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, God-of-Angel-Armies protects us. River fountains splash joy, cooling God's city, this sacred haunt of the Most High. God lives here, the streets are safe, God at your service from the crack of dawn. Godless nations rant and rave, kings and kingdoms threaten, but Earth does anything He says, Jacob-wrestling God fights for us, God-of-Angel-Armies protects us. — Psalm 46:1-7 The Message

What Now?

2013-10-09T05:00:00.000-07:00

Like so many of you, I hate separation and I hate divorce.

So many people have spent years or even decades agonizing over a marriage that, despite their best efforts (faulty, human, and broken, but heartfelt efforts), in spite of love, commitment, sacrifice, relentless praying, and oftentimes many attempts to seek peace, mutual humility, repentance, love, respect, and renewal... crumbled.

Christians. Jesus-followers. Some very familiar with abuse or the pall of addiction, some having discovered infidelity, some still hoping for healthy restoration, all having made mountains of mistakes.

Most having not the foggiest idea what to do with the wreckage. And all grappling with God.

On top of that, the Church, my friends, well... the Church has been known to shoot its wounded.

That's why I'm so thrilled about my friend Beth's new book. Written in the middle of a painful separation and divorce, Unraveling is a story about the end of a Christian marriage, but it's also about hanging onto the One who will never forsake you.

* * * * *

So you’re divorced. Now what? By this point, you have probably divided up all your belongings and one or both of you have moved. Your driver’s license has been changed. You have your own credit card, maybe with a new name. You’ve done the hard work of telling people. You’ve maybe even sold your wedding ring or burned some old letters. But then there’s all the emotional work that has got to be done, or else you’ll be stuck making the same mistakes over and over again. And trust me, you don’t want that. So here are some things to think through so that you can begin to move on.

It’s time to get out of bed. Yes, you can take a nap here and there. Yes, you can totally go to bed early and sleep in on the weekends. And yes, if you need to take a few mental health days, go for it. But there will come a time when getting out bed and, you know, putting some clothes on other than yoga pants will be your first step. It will take months and months (sometimes years and years) to fully recover, but the emotional breakdown part should not last indefinitely.

Your part in the marriage’s failure. Odds are, you know exactly what your spouse did wrong. You probably have a journal filled up with his faults. But you need to take the really difficult inward look and ask yourself, where did I mess up? And then, you have to be brutally honest with yourself, with God, and for your best benefit, with a trusted person.

Focus on Jesus. Our friends are great. Our counselors are amazing. Church is exactly what we need. Twelve-step groups are sustaining us. But only as we focus on Jesus and His love and grace and truth will we be able to fully heal. This is the time to cling to Him, to beg Him to make His presence more known to you, to remind you in really intimate ways that He loves you no matter what.

Help someone else. What? I’m still hurting! I know you are, honey. So am I. But there’s this great verse in II Corinthians 1:4 where Paul tells us that God “…comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” We are promised that we will receive God’s comfort in every single trouble we go through SO THAT we can offer that same comfort to others. I bet you know someone who is in a hard marriage or separated or divorced (we all do). And you now know some things that you didn’t know six months or a year ago, some things about life and God and yourself, that your friend doesn’t know yet… that your friend could really benefit from hearing from you. Even in your healing time, God can use you to comfort someone else. Listen, this will take time. Healing doesn’t happen overnight. But God is faithful. And He’s not going anywhere. And He loves you more than you can even wrap your mind around. And trust me when I say this, you’re going to be okay.

Elisabeth Klein Corcoran, the author of Unraveling: Hanging Onto Faith Through the End of a Christian Marriage, speaks several times a month to women's groups, and is a member of Redbud Writers' Guild. During her time at Christ Community Church’s Blackberry Creek Campus in Aurora, Illinois she began and led their women's ministry for ten years prior to moving to the city’s Orchard Community Church. She lives with her children in Illinois. Visit her online at http://www.elisabethcorcoran.com/difficult-marriage-divorce/ or https://www.facebook.com/ElisabethKleinCorcoran. She is the moderator of two private Facebook groups: one for women in difficult Christian marriages, and one for Christian women who are separated or divorced. Email her at elisabethkcorcoran@gmail.com if interested in joining.

Grace Factories

2013-09-22T18:18:00.001-07:00

“To live by grace means to acknowledge my whole life story, the light side and the dark. In admitting my shadow side I learn who I am and what God's grace means.” ~ Brennan Manning

Here's a newly uncovered truth... Vulnerability terrifies me.

Seriously, that's news to me.

I'm not talking about the vulnerability that living in normal community requires. I can do that. And not the vulnerability that friendship depends upon. I can do that.

I'm talking about the exposure of authentic soul-bearing that comes with living life intimately with trusted, bosom friends. People who know all your junk, the highs, the lows, your dreams, and fears, the beautiful, and the ugly, the lovely, and the shameful stuff you'd never want anyone to know. And people who give you the privilege of sharing their big messes with you, their weaknesses, strengths, victories, and failures, and are willing to let you see the raw truth of what it looks like when life hits the fan. People who can speak truth and grace into your life and will let you speak the same into theirs.

"It is one of the severest tests of friendship to tell your friend his faults. So... to speak painful truth through loving words, that is friendship." ~ Henry Ward Beecher

I'm taking about those mutual relationships where both sides are second-chance grace people. (Rick Warren's term) Where deep truth and limitless mercy walk side-by-side.

Don't just pretend to love others.

Really love them.

Hate what is wrong.

Hold tightly to what is good.

Love each other with genuine affection,

and take delight in honoring each other.

— Romans 12:9-10

Grace factories. People who look at every detail of your brokenness — the shards of what has shattered — and see a mosaic that's beautiful. They don't just see the mess, they see the redemption built into it. Or at least they're willing to trust that God can take the mess that is me (or you) and make something beautiful.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. — 2 Corinthians 12:9

He has saved us and called us to a holy life — not because of anything we have done but because of his own purpose and grace. This was given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time — 2 Timothy 1:9

I don't think I do that well because down deep it scares the woowee out of me.

But, I want to.

At my weakest moments, it feels like all I have to offer is brokenness and failure. My story is certainly one of a lot of brokenness and spectacular failure.

We want to avoid suffering, death, sin, ashes.
But we live in a world crushed and broken and torn,
a world God Himself visited to redeem. We receive His poured-out life,
and being allowed the high privilege of suffering with Him,
may then pour ourselves out for others.
~ Elisabeth Elliot

God uses broken things.

It takes broken soil to produce a crop,

broken clouds to give rain,

broken grain to give bread,

broken bread to give strength.

It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume.

It is Peter, weeping bitterly,

who returns to greater power than ever. ~ Vance Havner

The truth is that God does use broken things. That is the truth of my story and of yours. He remakes us. He transforms us as we step out into the vulnerability of authentic relationship with others in the Body of Christ and extend understanding, comfort, mercy, help, and love to those around us.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. — 2 Corinthians 1:3-5

But, it takes vulnerability.

So, in theory, yes, I want to live that transparently with close, trusted friends, but... Yikes!

"Broken people are willing to take the risks of getting close to others and loving intimately." — Nancy Leigh DeMoss

Why is it so scary?

For me, it comes down to fear of rejection. The fear that says "If you only knew the real me, you would probably not want to be my friend." The fear that remembers those who bailed. Those who hurt me. And those that I hurt.

Maybe you can relate.

I've been betrayed, lied to, rejected, blamed, discarded... I felt very alone in a 20+ year marriage and was eventually left actually alone. The person who covenanted before God and about a thousand family and friends to love and cherish me until death do us part spent years slowly abdicating his husbandhood. He said he didn't think he "should have to" make the effort to be married for a lifetime in a healthy manner, to repent of his wrongs and hear my repentance, to mutually submit, and mutually rebuild something lovely. Our family wasn't worth the effort. I wasn't worth the effort.

So vulnerability makes my insides quake. Why? Because when you give people your heart, they can really, really, really hurt you.

Is vulnerability with others scary for you, too?

I have a fear of heights. A bad one. No, fear is too small a word. It's a phobia. Some of my worst nightmares involve skyscrapers (even standing at the bottom of one and looking up makes me dizzy!), falling off of a cliff, and tightrope walking (Nik Wallenda walking 1/4 mile tightrope across the Grand Canyon, 1500 feet up, on a 2" tightrope, in heavy 30-mph winds gave me hives. I couldn't look and yet couldn't look away!).

Several years ago my family was at a water park and my kids double-dog-dared me to do the big slide, called "The Liquidator" with them. Two or three stories high -- I forget, so let's just say three because that sounds better -- it had steps up to the top platform where you entered the slide. I thought, "I can do this. I'll just walk the steps looking up and never look down. *Deeep breath*... Piece of cake."

Up up up we went. And when we got to the top, I made the catastrophic error of looking out over the water park showing just how high we were in a little wooden tower, so I made the obvious choice and slammed my body down flat on my belly on the platform and prayed out loud, "Sweet Jesus, help me!"

My kids were flipping out, "Mama! Get UP! You're embarrassing us!" But, I could no more get up than I could fly, so I army crawled to the slide, made my way in it with eye-rolling water park attendees having no empathy that I was sure I was going to die in the process.

Not my finest moment.

At the bottom I vowed that I would never do anything that scared me again.

Vulnerability makes me shake.

It's just not smart to do things that scare you, right?

Here's the only problem with that: Jesus totally called us to live life in intimate community, and to live a life out on the edge where it's scary!

But, just google "Do not fear" to see how many Bible verses command us not to be afraid!

Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the LORD your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you. — Deuteronomy 31:6

This is my command—be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged. For the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.— Joshua 1:9

David also said to Solomon his son, "Be strong and courageous, and do the work. Do not be afraid or discouraged, for the LORD God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you or forsake you — 1 Chronicles 28:20

Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. — Isaiah 41:10

Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be men of courage; be strong. 1 Corinthians 16:13

We just don't have permission to go through life not doing the scary stuff. That doesn't mean we have to trust people right off the bat. That's not even wise. Relationships take time and effort and mutual care and love. And people are going to fall short. They're going to hurt you and they're going to hurt me. Even the second chance grace people. Even though they don't mean to. And, the truth is that I will hurt others. Even though I don't mean to.

"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: What! You too? I thought I was the only one." — C.S. Lewis

Cultivating a circle of friends who walk and live in authenticity, and I mean real, soul-bearing truth, who are committed to radical grace might be scary, but I think we can do it. What about you?

Maybe it's time to try "The Liquidator" again.

Or... maybe it's time to skydive.

Sleeping in the Storm

2013-07-03T16:19:00.001-07:00

Then He got in the boat, His disciples with Him. The next thing they knew, they were in a severe storm. Waves were crashing into the boat — and He was sound asleep! They roused Him, pleading, “Master, save us! We’re going down!” Jesus reprimanded them. “Why are you such cowards, such faint-hearts?” Then He stood up and told the wind to be silent, the sea to quiet down: “Silence!” The sea became smooth as glass. — Matthew 8:23-26 (The Message)

By the time my marriage and family started to take on water at an alarming rate, sleep was already not my friend. I was in a full-blown battle with anxious sleeplessness, worried and desperate for God to make things be ok, for us to make it through the storm. Needless to say, huge understatement, this did not help things.

"Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength." ~ Corrie Ten Boom

Two years ago, I fought every single night for hours at a time all summer long, for three months solid. I ached for sleep. I would have paid big bucks for 9 hours of precious REM. During the day when I had a thousand things to do and five kids needing my attention, I was bone-deep exhausted and could have slept a solid eight, but past midnight, not a wink could be had. When sleep would not come, irrational fears (and, it later turned out, very rational and well-founded fears) crept in, middle-of-the-night anxiety, spiritual warfare for my marriage, my husband and older son, and in this state of exhaustion, the creeky house noises only freaked me out further.

At 2am, let's just say the inside of my head can be a very bad neighborhood.

I have still struggled from time to time in the last year with the midnight fear sessions, but thankfully not often. Still, a few weeks ago, I heard this message from Pastor Choco de Jesus that hit me straight between the eyes.

"You know what Jesus is telling you

when you're going through storms in your life?

You're going through a separation or divorce...

You're going through a hard time...

You know what He's trying to tell you?

'GO TO SLEEP!'

Go to sleep. There's no reason for you to be up at 2:00 in the morning worrying about things.
Go to sleep."

~ Pastor Wilfred "Choco" de Jesus

He preached that sermon, looked straight into my soul, and practically shouted directly at me, "Anna! Ignore the storm. Pay no attention to the waves and the rip-tides and go to sleep! God is bigger than and utterly in command of any storm."

Then, of course, I totally deleted it from my memory bank 16 hours later and walked straight into the 'hood at 2am and let the what-ifs, the panic, and self-condemnation start another riot.

In the morning, I thought, "Really? Still?"and I saw those message notes on my desk (right next to me all night long). Darn it! If only I had turned on the light (How's that for a metaphor?) and gotten into the Word and digested again Jesus' perfect peace!

God has got it. (Psalm 46:10, Psalm 115:11, Isaiah 44:8)
He is good. (Psalm 121:1-2, Psalm 100:5, Psalm 143:10)
He is loving. (Psalm 144:2, Isaiah 43:1, Zephaniah 3:17, Luke 1:78)
He is with me. (Psalm 56:3-4, Isaiah 41:10, Daniel 10:12 Matthew 11:28-30)
Don't worry about anything. (Psalm 34:4, Proverbs 3:5-6, Isaiah 12:2, Matthew 6:25-34, Matthew 14:27-31, John 14:27, Romans 8:31-39, 1 Peter 5:6-7)
Instead pray and give thanks. (Psalm 107:1, Psalm 118:1, 1 Thessalonians 5:18, Revelation 11:17)
Everything's going to be ok! (Romans 8:28, Jeremiah 29:11, Ephesians 3:20-21, 1 Peter 5:7)

Jesus isn't worried. Why should I be? How can I so easily forget that?

"Rest is not some holy feeling that comes upon us in church. It is a state of calm rising from a heart deeply and firmly established in God." ~ Henry Drummond

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable — if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things. Whatever you have learned or received or heard from me, or seen in me — put it into practice. And the God of peace will be with you. — Philippians 4:4-9

So, if I want that peace, I have to practice rejoicing, setting aside anxiety, thanking God for His goodness, guarding my heart and mind, thinking about the right things and leaving the rest to God. It's changing the way I choose to live from the inside out. Squeeze an orange and orange juice comes out. When life puts the squeeze on, what's inside comes out.

For me, some of what has surfaced and what the Lord has been dealing with through this storm is fear and anxiety, lack of faith, my control freak tendencies, self-condemnation, and ultimately my not yet living my true identity in Christ Jesus.

I'm safe in Him. Forgiven. Loved. And able to rest wholly in His sufficiency.

Recently, I turned my mother onto one of my very favorite devotionals, the classic Streams in the Desert by L. B. Cowman. She told me about a passage that ministered to her. It was just a short poem. As dawn broke on that particular midnight worry session, it occurred to me that it was actually a song. A song I taught my kids years ago. "With Christ in the vessel, I smile at the storm."

How many times have I sung that and didn't pay one bit of active attention to it? How many years had God been singing out to me the assurance of His presence and the opportunity for perfect peace in the middle of suffering, heartbreak, worry, illness, or uncertainty.

I don't have to freak out! The sun is shining, not just up above the clouds, but right here. Right now. The God of the Universe is on His Throne. And, it's going to be alright.

Across the storm, God's assuring voice sings love.

My God will meet all your needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus. — Philippians 4:19

God has got it. Even if everything goes completely opposite of anything looking remotely like what you desire or think is right. Even if... God is in control.

God's got it.

He is good.
He is loving.
And He is with you.
You don't have to worry about anything.

Instead pray and give thanks.
Everything is going to be ok.

In this life when trouble comes there's a place we can go.
We can hide in the promises that when trouble comes it's when we grow

Peace in the middle of the storm

There's peace in the middle of the storm

Winds of change may blow your way

There's peace in the middle of the storm

Peace in the middle of the storm

There's peace in the middle of the storm

His mercy's new for us today

There's peace in the middle, in the middle, in the middle of the storm

In this world, you never know when your time has come

But we can be sure that when it's time we'll have peace of mind that the battle's won

Peace in the middle of the storm

Winds of change may blow your way

There's peace in the middle of the storm

Peace in the middle of the storm

There's peace in the middle of the storm

His mercy's new for us today

There's peace in the middle, in the middle, in the middle of the storm

It's gonna be alright!

~Chris Lizotte, Peace in the Middle of the Storm

Are you in a storm, sweet one? Are you wondering where God is and what He's doing? Are you up at 2am with anxiety and fear? Remember, Jesus isn't worried. He has complete authority over your storm. And He says, "I love you. I've got this. Go to sleep."

Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don't be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. — Luke 12:7

When anxiety was great within me, Your consolation brought me joy. — Psalm 94:19

Be on your guard; stand firm in the faith; be courageous; be strong. — 1 Corinthians 16:13

Now, may the Lord of peace Himself give you peace at all times and in every way. The Lord be with all of you. — 2 Thessalonians 3:16

Hope - Hold Fast

2013-06-09T11:22:00.004-07:00

Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for He who promised is faithful. — Hebrews 10.23

"HOPE = Holding On with Patient Expectation" ~ Pastor Greg Laurie

A new friend whose college sweetheart walked out on his family after 19 years and 6 kids, confessed that she has no hope left. She feels incapable of recovering. She's never going to feel joy again, never legitimately smile. She's permanently broken.

An old friend whose high school sweetheart and best friend decided to ditch their spouses and play house together has been paralyzed in grief and stuck in a cycle of hopelessness for over a year. She is a shell of herself and seems unable to rally and regain her balance after that world-rocking blow.

Another friend recently discovered that his business partner committed illegal acts on behalf of their company he is president of and responsible for. So, instead of fighting a long and expensive battle in court, he's cut a plea bargain and will go to prison. It's a level of devastation he cannot yet comprehend.

Anyone who has had their life utterly capsized knows how sometimes you forget for a few moments about the thing that has crushed your heart, like while folding laundry or cooking dinner, and then WHAM! Like a 2x4 to the forehead, something reminds you of the scorching loss, the surreal new normal and the temptation floods in to sink into sadness, dwell on the hurt, let it whomp you body and soul, and stay there... flattened. Oh, sweet honey, do I know that one.

Maybe you do, too.

So many people I know are battling the same way. So many who have lost jobs, or who are in a seemingly never-ending financial crisis, or whose kids or spouse have spun out of control in anger, rebellion, and selfishness, or whose life radically changed against their best efforts to keep on course. They're all warring against those same thoughts. And it is a war!

It makes me angry at the devil that he's so darn good at his job! He learns what message will cripple you the most and whispers some version of:

"It's over."
"You'll never get out of this hole."
"You're irredeemable now."
"It's all your fault."
"Look at this wreckage! It can never be ok again."
"You've blown it too much."
"You're an embarrassment."
"You're not worth the sacrifice of real love."
"You're too this, or too that."
"You'll never be happy again."
"God can't do anything with or through you."
"What a loser!"

"You. Are. Worthless."

It's pure evil. He's out to steal our hope!

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. — John 10:10a

When you are walking in love, what does the enemy want to do?.. Steal it, kill it, destroy it. And you. So he sows seeds of jealousy, or disappointment, or anger, or selfish ambition, and incites one against another over and over.

When you are tithing and going on mission trips and giving a good chunk of money towards the building fund, or to a shelter for battered women, or to an orphanage, what is Satan's scheme?.. Steal it, kill it, destroy it. And you. So he reminds you of the pressure to provide, and all the things you need, and everything in the house starts to break down or need emergency replacing. Or he plants frustration. Or selfishness.

When you are fully trusting God wholeheartedly and feeling that beautiful, supernatural peace oozing through your life and home, what is the enemy dead-set to do?.. Steal it, kill it, destroy it. And you. So he reminds you of your fears, your losses, your upsets, those who have hurt you, the unrepentant betrayers, the ones who damaged you deeply. Or he lobs in a little chaos and adds a whisper of annoyance and nurses it until it grows into anger and bitterness. Or he suggests that maybe God is holding out on you after all.

When worship and thanksgiving are growing within you no matter what your circumstances are, whether happy or sad, blessed or in trial, wealthy or wanting, healthy or ill, what does the enemy set out to do with a fiery vengeance?.. Steal it, kill it, destroy it! And you! So the Serpent hisses lies about emptiness, lack, unanswered prayers, promises you've waited and waited and waited for for what seems like a lifetime, sudden and complete financial collapse, shocking betrayal from loved ones, or the death of someone far too young.

When your marriage is thriving, and both husband and wife are working side-by-side to love better and more sacrificially every day, and even to encourage couples struggling in difficult marriages, that just outrages the Devil. So what is his plan?..

Steal it, kill it, destroy it!

And both of YOU!

And he's GOOD at it!

The Liar turns up the volume on differences, old insecurities, hurt feelings on one side and apathy on another, disrespect, jealousy, lovelessness, lovemaking that's grown predictable, stale, or dissatisfying, old seductions, pornography, temptation, secrets, accusation, frustration, and addiction. He whispers of imperfections, whatever fosters disgust or disdain, and that good ol' greener grass with the hourglass figure and a husband that travels.

Satan makes me so mad!

The battle of hopelessness rages because that's where the enemy wants you and me to stay and live forever. Crushed. Shamed. Destroyed. Incapable of being used for good. Angry. Afraid. Filled with condemnation. Lonely. Desperate. Self-consumed. Whirling emotionally in grief. Sitting in ashes.

But, hopelessness is not true! God is with us. And He is the God of HOPE!

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in Him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

We cannot always trust people, but we can always trust & place our hope in Him!

God is not a man, that He should lie, nor a son of man, that He should change His mind. Does He speak and then not act? Does He promise and not fulfill? — Numbers 23.19

You answer us with awesome deeds of righteousness, O God our Savior, the HOPE of all the ends of the earth and of the furthest seas. — Psalm 65.5

And HOPE does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us. — Romans 5.5

"The devil cannot lord it over those who are servants of God with their whole heart and who place their HOPE in Him. The devil can wrestle with but not overcome them." ~ Shepherd of Hermas

Going back to that verse...

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have and enjoy life, and have it in abundance, to the full, until it overflows. — John 10.10

He came to bring a deeply satisfying, marvelous and rich life, abounding and dripping in joy like a waterfall that cannot be contained!

That's why Satan is after our hope! Without hope, we cannot begin to enjoy life, be in love with Jesus, receive His immeasurable love for us, and translate that into powerfully, selflessly loving others, forgiving the unforgivable, or embodying Jesus in any way.

... through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, HOPE. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us. — Romans 5:2-5

So, what do you do when your life shipwrecks and your hope dwindles to a flicker or dies altogether? What do you do when your heartbreak shakes your very foundation leaving you questioning everything you've ever believed in? What do you do when the ultimate question really is

"God, where are You?! Do You see me? Don't You care?!"

Honestly, that is an incredibly important and holy moment. It's the moment God gets the real, raw you. Face to face.

Although it may not feel like it for a long, long time, losing hope, and especially losing your religion is a very strange, rip-you-in-half painful, shocking, but very valuable gift.

What you are going through, my friend, what so many of us are going through, may be so horrible that you beg God, "I have no hope! I cannot endure this one more day. Please, take me now!"

I've been there. And it truly is hell. Losing everything, being shredded to bits, having your worst nightmare come true in living color and be even worse than you imagined, and not knowing where God is in the midst of it or how He could possibly be a good God since He allowed such pain, is absolutely hell on earth.

Here's what I'm saying... Hang on, babe. Press on. Lean into it. Seek God with all of your heart. You will find Him. And He will teach you a whole new love. A whole new grace. A whole new forgiveness. A whole new HOPE! If you cling to God you will meet Him in a completely new, deeper, richer way than if you'd never shipwrecked.

Your spirit begins to learn what trust truly is. Your mind begins to learn never, ever to listen to your thoughts, but to rely on Scripture instead. You begin to learn to think entirely differently. Your heart stretches out in compassion. You actually start to seek out God to wreck whatever He needs to.

"Seriously, God, while You're at it, please do it all the way."

Your life may be destroyed right now... but God is doing good, invaluable things! He's making you new.

After a while, letting God wreck your life and your heart and reveal the yuck within and cut it out gets to be kind of strangely exciting. When you digest the truth that there's no condemnation for those in Christ Jesus (Romans 8:1) and there's more joy and hope in store for you on the other side of learning what is sin in His sight that you never recognized before and changing it, you get a second wind.

For me, at least, it's been a daily walk of choices:

Forgiveness or bitterness

Kindness or sarcasm

Peace or anger

Honesty or lies

Trust in God or fear

Compassion or harshness

Love or vengeance

Care or apathy

Enjoyment or cynicism
Caretaking or scorn

Blessing or hatred

HOPE or despondence

It's a choice between tumbling willfully into a self-imposed dungeon that's dark, scary, sharp, hard, lonely, and barren or having God's great and beautiful expanse begin to open up acreage in your heart.

You and I have been invited to focus on the awful, or focus on beauty. All the beautiful moments of each day, big and small. Drink them in and thank God will a full, singing heart. On purpose. If we want to, we can hold all of the upheaval and trauma close to the chest and be wrecked and angry for years, or with counsel, make the wisest direction decisions we can and then leave the outcome to God. In peace. Because we can trust Him. Because we are completely safe in Him. Because our HOPE is in Him and Him alone.

My personal mess isn't over. Not by a long shot. So, I say this from the middle of the long and painful storm. From the eye of the tornado. Still buffeted, still wobbly, still very much in the thick of it.

What am I going to do with all this suffering?

I choose to let God use it to change me for the better. Let God squish and mold it into compassion, forgiveness, mercy and grace. Let God create through it eyes to see the hurting and love them as Jesus would. Right where I am. In the middle of really hard stuff. My soul can relax. Because there IS hope!

Jesus.

But blessed is the (wo)man who trusts in the LORD whose confidence is in Him. (S)he will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit. — Jeremiah 17:7-8

Though he slay me, yet will I hope in Him. — Job 13.15a

"I've read the last page of the Bible. It's all going to turn out all right." ~ Billy Graham

"You crown the year with Your bounty, and Your carts overflow with abundance." — Psalm 65.11

Hold fast!

It's Saturday... But Sunday's Comin'

2013-04-03T14:02:00.002-07:00

"You are alone?"

That's what the greeter at church asked me on Sunday. It was like a Happy Easter slug in the jaw. Of course, I know she didn't mean anything by it. She was just asking me how many seats were needed. But it was out there nonetheless.

Alone.

On Easter.

My husband and five children not with me. So very weird and raw. I almost didn't go. I'd been up half the night praying about a worrisome issue about one of my kids (which I really have to quit doing! Give it to God and go to sleep, Anna!). So, in the morning I laid in bed exhausted and groaning at the ceiling and fighting with myself.

"Go to church."
"No."
"Go."
"No!"
"GO to church. It's Easter!"
"I know that!"
"Go to church."
"No."
"Go."
"No."
...

"Go."
"Fine, I'll go."

And then the alone thing happened and I felt like I had a billboard floating directly above me in my cute Easter outfit that said, "Alone. Loser. Please awkwardly ignore me. Don't be alarmed if I do the ugly cry... Again."

After the service I wandered around the patio crowded with families and happily married couples in dazed confusion because I seriously did not know what to do with myself. Walking into walls again. What does one do on Easter when one's family isn't there? I finally decided to sit in my car until my brain was functioning well enough to drive home safely.

It was a hot mess of a weekend.

On Good Friday, I went to church with my parents, my brother, and his family. It was a very powerful service full of organ music, a robed choir singing, quiet contemplation, Scripture reading, enactment of the crucifixion... I was a snotty, drippy, red-nosed, thankful, hot mess.

Then came Saturday -- full of conflict, turmoil and pain, worry, zero control, no way to even influence circumstances, anxiety, tears and sleeplessness. Saturday -- no answers, no resolution, no peace, and no appearance of hope.

I am realizing that's where I am in life. I'm in the season of Easter Saturday.

Maybe you are, too.

Everything I expected and hoped for has completely upended painfully, frighteningly, dramatically, confusingly, threateningly. I watched it all die in a nightmare of betrayal, lies, threats, brutality, and fear without being able to stop it no matter what.

Confusion, panic, shock, trauma, so much remorse and regret in having handled it so very badly. I panicked, I got angry, I flipped out, I denied, I feared, I fled and I hid.

Easter Saturday is when we do not yet know the redemption that's coming. We do not yet see God's amazing, transforming power raising the dead and bringing new, miraculous, no one could possibly expect it life.

It's the in-between. Life in limbo. The promise without the fulfilment. The hope and faith planted and then everything in sight (2 Cor 5.7) saying it's absolutely, assuredly, completely, finally, certainly dead, gone, and done-for. Finished.

The enemy won.

And yet, in this Easter Saturday season, unlike that first Easter Saturday for the Messiah's disciples, I know how the story ends.

"Finished" has an entirely different meaning.

It means

PAID

FULL!

I have the assurance of my Savior. For all eternity I have Jesus, both here on earth, and soon and very soon with Him in Heaven. He will always be right beside me. Filling my cup to overflowing right in the middle of the suffering bringing inexplicable joy (Rom 5.3). That's one of the strangest and most wonderful things about being a Christ follower, don't you think?

It's the joy and the agony of the already and the not yet.

Life is terribly painful, and full of trials and sufferings, and not going anything remotely like I had expected it to go. And yet Jesus saved me. He redeemed me! He wants a personal, vibrant relationship with ME! Hosanna!

Here's something I wrestle with:
Because I believe in Jesus, I have to believe in His power to heal my marriage and my family and bring a completely insane, incomprehensible, nobody can believe their eyes miracle. I have to believe it... whether or not it's something I even want! And at the same time, I need to be completely at peace with the fact that it might not go that way. Ever. And that maybe, just maybe, God actually can and will use the shredding of my marriage and the unresolved pain within my family to His great glory. Because He doesn't waste pain. He works all things for the good of those who love Him. (Rom 8.28)

I must be brave enough to pray ridiculous prayers. Bold prayers. Crazy prayers. Brave enough to pray for things that absolutely can never ever happen without a miracle straight from Heaven. Brave enough to pray for Easter Sunday morning redemption!

Not though but because I am a wrecked, and weak, and incapable of doing any good without Him disciple. And I stupidly repeat the same old junk (Rom 7.15) against my determinations. And I'm terribly ill-equipped to be a single mother, working two jobs, homeschooling, and wanting to help other women in my circumstances. To love everyone I get my hands on. To be Jesus to them. Even though I sin, and blow it, and make mistakes, and hurt others every single day. And I have been known to ugly-cry in public without warning.

And I'm alone. And I'm a hot mess.

Maybe you are, too.

Yet, we are so inconceivably valued by God! He doesn't see me or you in our sinfulness, He sees us clothed in the Risen Jesus Christ! Perfect, sinless, holy, beloved. So, I cannot contain the wonder and the weepy thanksgiving and inexpressible whatever the apex of inloveness is.

It IS finished! In Heaven, all of this is already redeemed! Somehow already fully restored. Only here on earth is it the already and the not yet.

I'm discovering that this journey is much more about learning to walk with Jesus and be willingly shaped into His likeness than anything else, trusting Him for redemption.

"Everything that God brings into our life

is directed to one purpose:

that we might be conformed

to the image of Christ."

Erwin W. Lutzer

"The losses and crosses

are better means to growth in grace

than when everything is according to our liking."

John Wesley

So, yeah, I'm alone. And it hurts. And I am still occasionally walking into walls. I am still stumbling around the patio of life crowded with families and happily married couples.

But, it's still Saturday...

And Sunday's comin'.

"We were crushed and overwhelmed

beyond our ability to endure,

and we thought we would never live through it.

In fact, we expected to die.

But as a result, we stopped relying on ourselves

and learned to rely only on God, who raises the dead."

2 Corinthians 1.8-9

Don't miss this:
SM Lockridge "Sunday's Comin'"

God's Love Letter

2013-03-18T21:31:00.000-07:00

Amazing.

Today, I had an absolutely bone-crushing conversation. I extended an olive branch to my husband because a special day is coming up.

He laid into me like never before about all the things I've ever done wrong, including greatly exaggerated evils about me, how I have "intentionally" done this, "knowingly" done that, and "purposefully" done this. Blame, shame, cynicism, hardness, rage, like buckets of acid on my skin. No matter how much I raise the white flag, quiet my voice, humble myself, offer love, grace, repentance, and compassion, it does not end. He simply cannot handle my personal brand of crazy. He has tried, but I have blown it too much. I am just too broken for him.

As soon as I begged off the conversation, I cried out to God, and immediately flopped my Bible open

to a note inside...

A Love Letter.

From Jesus to me.

To you. To us all.

"Oh, how beautiful you are to Me! I love you as a husband loves his bride. In My eyes, there is no flaw in you. You are without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish. You are holy and blameless in My sight. You have stolen My heart as a bride steals her husband's heart.

I am the One who gave you life and made you grow like a plant in the field. You grew up and developed and became the most beautiful of all jewels. I spread the corner of My garment over you and covered you. I gave you my solemn oath and entered into a covenant with you, and you became Mine. I saved you and called you to a holy life -- not because of anything you have done but because of My own purpose and grace.

I have committed Myself to you forever, in righteousness and justice, in love and compassion. I have raised My banner of love over you. I take great delight in you. I quiet you with My Love and rejoice over you with singing.

I have prepared a special place for you in My house. It is far greater than anything you could imagine. And that is where we will live, together forever and ever.

I love you."

Psalm 23.6
Song of Solomon 4.1, 7, 9
Ezekiel 16.6-8
Hosea 2.19
Zephaniah 3.17
John 14.2-3
Ephesians 5.25-27
2 Timothy 1.9

How can I not be wildly in love with my Jesus?!

He LOVES me!

Worshipful Grief

2013-03-16T16:44:00.000-07:00

"Do you know the most surprising thing about divorce?

It doesn't actually kill you.

Like a bullet to the heart or a head-on car wreck.

It should.

When someone you've promised to cherish

till death do you part says "I never loved you,"

it should kill you instantly.

You shouldn't have to wake up day after day after that,

trying to understand how in the world you didn't know.

The light just never went on, you know.

I must have known, of course,

but I was too scared to see the truth.

Then fear just makes you

so stupid."

Under the Tuscan Sun

That is exactly what it feels like. Like, how can your lungs keep taking in air and your heart continue beating?

“And Jacob rent his clothes,

and put sackcloth upon his loins,

and mourned for his son (Joseph) many days.

And all his sons and all his daughters rose up to comfort him;

but he refused to be comforted, and he said,

‘For I will go down into the grave unto my son, mourning.”

Thus his father wept for him.”

Genesis 37.34-35

It seems impossible sometimes that the physical body should be able to function with the weight of great grief.

Grief is a graying process. It feels relentless. It seems unending. One day you make a little progress, and then suddenly you find yourself having circled around back to the beginning.

Which has led me to wonder, as a Christian woman wanting to live my life honoring God...

What part of grief is actually lack of faith in God?
Is there a contradiction if your eyes are fixed on Jesus but your heart is broken?
At some point does God tire of my honest pain as I hash through loss?
Are those questions a self-inflicted double-wounding? Is giving myself a hard time for natural grieving unfair?
But, still... at what point does grief become something... I don’t know... wrong?

What is the point of all this pain? And is it bad to feel it so much?

Can grief be sinful?

On the other hand, can honest grief lived out before God be worshipful? A lament that fills His nose like incense?

We pour out our miseries

God just hears a melody

Beautiful, the mess we are

The honest cries of breaking hearts

Are better than a Hallelujah"

Amy Grant “Better Than a Hallelujah”

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord,

‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

plans to give you hope and a future.’”

Jeremiah 29.11

We love to proclaim that to the rafters. God has good plans for me! God has hope for me! Hooray!

But, we often neglect to read that verse in it’s context. It’s not an escape from troubles and heartbreak. It’s the redemption after sinning and going through discipline and suffering and in the midst of it being humbled, and turning our hearts back to Him in repentance and full submission.

“This is what the Lord says: When seventy years are completed for Babylon, I will come to you and fulfill my gracious promise to bring you back to this place... [For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.] Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you declares the Lord, and will bring you back from captivity. I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you, declares the Lord, and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.”

Jeremiah is speaking to a people in exile, a people under the Lord’s discipline through the abuse of King Nebuchadnezzar, a people whose “wound is incurable” (Jer 30.12), who are feeling the absence of God and enduring seventy years in Babylon as the price for their sin!

Why? Because it’s through suffering, and hardship, and abandonment, and physical pain, and illness, and slavery, and victimization, and all measure of grief that our hearts cry out for HIM, for His rescue, because there is nowhere else to turn. We need Holy God after we’ve wandered into and exhausted every other form of release, relief, and sin -- idolatry, alcohol, drugs, pornography, gambling, hatred, blaming, war…

Until we’re lost in grief. Spent. Broken.

And, so, in His amazingly, loving, wonderful grace, God allows us the full measure of pain, the consequences both natural and supernatural, the vast expanse of suffering, the utter aloneness of failure until we reach rock bottom.

He allows it to hear our call, our cry for Him, to be able to respond in mercy, grace, forgiveness and redemption.

“This is how much God loved the world:

He gave His Son, His one and only Son.

And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed;

by believing in Him anyone can have a whole and lasting life.

God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending His Son

merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was.

He came to help, to put the world right again.”

John 3.16-17

So, yes, the Lord has good plans for us, BUT it’s on a road paved with hardship designed to reveal Himself to us, to draw us back to Him.

What do you think of a God who allows suffering?

Isn’t that the chief question of faith? How can God be good and yet allow, or even ordain, dare I say even approve heartbreak, injustice, and tremendous pain?

“During lament we must be the most careful

what we tell ourselves about God.”

Lorie Rees

Jeremiah says, though, that when we seek Him with all of our hearts we will find Him, the Real Him, the God who can take ALL things good and evil and bring good out of them.

He is:
The God who sees me. (Gen 16.13)
The God who cares. (1 Pet 5.7)
The God who wipes every every single tear. (Rev 21.4)
The God who has wept. (John 11.35)

And so, in His grace He will bring us back from captivity. He will gather us from the places of banishment and exile. He will prosper us, not harm us, give us hope, give us a future. Out of His goodness and mercy.

I think the key element to the question of whether or not grief can become sinful is whether or not the heartbreak produces Christlikeness and moves you towards God, towards thanksgiving, towards joy in and even for the suffering because of the good that He will bring out of it.

“Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.”

Proverbs 4.23

“... the Lord looks at the heart.” 1 Samuel 16.7b

Is it a grief brought before God in transparency and authenticity? Is it grief that still trusts that God is a good God?

Acknowledging our most tormented and ugly emotions, our anger, our suffering, our heartbreak, loss, our tortured places, our fear, to God is bold faithfulness. So, move toward God in honesty, in reality, in authenticity. He will not recoil. He won’t be angry. His heart is softened by our vulnerability. Loss, grief, pain, and suffering... They are His mercy, His Plan, His wooing of us, His breaking the vial of precious perfume, His lighting the incense to bring Him glory.

We spend so much time in tears, pouring ashes on our heads, desperate for relief. God comes in and rescues, restores, breathes life into our wallowing death, fills our hearts with joy and thanksgiving, and bestows upon us priceless treasures.

Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.

(S)he who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow,

will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with (her).

Psalm 126.5-6

I love the phrase in Ephesians 1.18 “the eyes of your heart”. It means that you don’t just know in your head, but that you experientially know God. It’s an enlightenment through the Holy Spirit.

If my focus is on that which causes me suffering or grief, no, I’m not worshipping. If my focus is on God and wanting to draw nearer to Him, to be with Him face-to-face, to share every bit of life with Him, to be changed, to press through to rejoicing over His goodness, and into thanksgiving for His abundance, then yes...

It's worship.

So, cry out! Grieve before God! Bring Him everything so that you can be brought through to a place of hope, and freedom, and joy, and healing, and wholeness.

Beauty from ashes.

God Hates Divorce? That's Only Part of the Story

2013-02-17T17:00:00.000-08:00

Here's the bad news:

When your marriage is in trouble or even worse, you separate or divorce, even if they don't know the circumstances, some Christian friends will absolutely back off just when you need them the most. Some will suddenly behave as if you are radioactive. Family who you trusted would always stand by you and love you, may treat you differently and even act like your heartbreak and trauma is about them. Like you've disappointed them, embarrassed them, shamed them, or purposefully destroyed their family circle by not "working it out"... Never mind that you were betrayed, abused, or abandoned.

They may even blame you.

Christians and sadly, those in Church leadership, have oftentimes mishandled, judged, and even ostracized women who've had to separate from an abusive and/or addicted husband. Unless you have the silver bullet of solid proof of sexual infidelity (by outright admission, or you actually walk in on your husband in bed with another person), the Church for the most part turns a blind eye to serious, even long-term abuse. That is not ok.

I asked Elisabeth Klein Corcoran and she graciously agreed to guest blog.

Pretty much everyone who has ever been married or found themselves in a hard marriage or on the other side of divorce, in the Christian world, has heard someone tell them that “God hates divorce”, pulling from Malachi 2:16 (NLT) that says, “For I hate divorce,’ says the Lord, the God of Israel.”

These words are typically used as a tool to keep someone from divorcing, or sadly, to point out why someone’s life is so difficult post-divorce, as in, Well, what did you expect? God hates divorce…  (By the way, that’s called adding insult to injury.  That’s called being mean.  That’s called the opposite of showing grace and empathy. If that’s all you have to say to someone in my position, please say nothing.)

One of the first rules of Scripture interpretation, though, is context.  Why did God say those words? Who was he saying them to? What else did he say in that same passage?

This passage was written during a time when men, mostly leaders, were divorcing their wives without cause.  And if you think women are a bit more vulnerable now and get the shaft post-divorce these days, women back then were pretty much done for if their husbands divorced them. So these words came at a specific time to address an issue that is actually opposite of what you might think. God wasn’t saying “I hate divorce” to address the abused woman in an effort to motivate her to buck up or to shame her into staying; he was actually addressing the throw-away-wife man and telling him what he was doing was wrong and that he despised it.

And again, context, because if anyone even looked up this verse, they’d see that the very next words in Malachi 2:16 (NLT) are, “And I hate the man who does wrong to his wife,’ says the Lord of All. ’So be careful in your spirit, and be one who can be trusted.’”

And look at it in the New International Version, “’The man who hates and divorces his wife,’ says the Lord, the God of Israel, ‘does violence to the one he should protect,’ says the Lord Almighty.”

In other words, God hates the man who tosses out his wife, who hurts his wife, who mistreats her, who covers her with violence, especially so because the husband is supposed to be her protector.

God’s heart all across Scripture is towards the vulnerable.  God’s heart all across Scripture is grace and mercy.  God calls himself our strong tower, our refuge, our help in times of trouble.  In Proverbs 6:16-19 it lists off seven things that God hates:

“A proud look, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that are swift in running to evil, a false witness who speaks lies, and one who sows discord among brethren.”

For some women, this is the description of their entire marriage.  God’s clear intention for marriage is for it to be a representation of how Christ and the Church are in relationship together.  There is love, mutuality, care.  There is no violence, no unnecessary harshness, no power trips, no lying, no wickedness.

(Let me state for the gazillionth time: I am not a proponent of every woman just up and leaving her marriage for any reason. But I am saying that I believe God hates abuse of every kind, including - or perhaps especially - in marriage, and if the husband refuses to stop and get help, that's where grace must step in and cover over when the husband won't do what he's supposed to be doing.)

I believe that applying “God hates divorce” to the case of the abused woman looking for biblical counsel on whether or not she can leave her marriage to an unrepentant, abusive man is similar to someone taking “Jesus wept” and saying that Jesus shows compassion on the teenager who broke curfew and now can’t have her phone for a week. (Okay, slight stretch, but you get my point.)

That in and of itself is an abuse of Scripture and abusing the heart of an already-hurting woman. Scripture is our guide, absolutely. It is God's very word to us. But let’s be very careful that we don’t wield it as a weapon against those who are already in so much pain and are in desperate need of our help and support.

Elisabeth Klein Corcoran is mom to Sara (16) and Jack (14-1/2). She loves spending time with her kids, her friends, reading and writing. She is the author of At the Corner of Broken & Love: Where God Meets Us in the Everyday; One Girl, Third World: One Woman’s Journey into Social Justice; He Is Just That Into You: Stories of a Faithful God who Pursues, Engages, and Has No Fear of Commitment; In Search of Calm: Renewal for a Mother’s Heart; and Calm in My Chaos: Encouragement for a Mom’s Weary Soul. All these books can be purchased on Amazon.com in paperback or Kindle. Her upcoming book, Unraveling, is releasing with Abingdon Press in October 2013.

The Love Shack

2013-02-14T11:19:00.000-08:00

Carol: I'm not going to sleep with you. I will never sleep with you. Never, ever. Not ever.

Melvin: I'm sorry... but, we don't open for the no-sex oaths until 9am.

Carol: I'm not kidding.

Melvin: Okay.

Speaking of retirement and no-sex oaths... what's a married-but-now-single girl to do about her normal, God-given desire for... you know...

I'm asking for a friend...

Ok, fine, it's me! Yeah, I'm going there. Let's talk about sex.

As my pastor says, "The enemy wants unmarried people to have sex and married people not to have sex!" That puts me somewhere in limbo-land since I'm married, but separated, not having sex and definitely missing it.

Are you aware of how many movies and TV shows are romantic? If you want to keep your mind pure, you pretty much have to ban most of what's on the boob tube! Almost nothing is safe. I'm getting tired of watching documentaries about Easter Island, the Monarch butterfly, U2, the Suez canal, or Scottish history. I'm a love story kind of girl. But, that scene where the man and woman kiss in the pouring rain and then go inside the house stripping clothes off as they go upstairs to make passionate love?..

NOT cool for a woman unhappily celibate.

Most of the time I'm ok and completely in charge of my physical, mental, spiritual, and emotional self, but sometimes to tell you the truth, I'm more than a little afraid of spontaneous combustion. It could happen.

What can I do about that? Well, for starters, I have made an important new rule: No looking at men. Full stop. Scripture says if your eye offends you pluck it out. (Matthew 5.29) Apparently I can look at women only, so my eyes are safe and I don't have to stick a fork in one and yank it out.

I'm thinking about investing in a good pair of horse blinders. Seriously, at the gym when Random Handsome Guy was next to me working out, I silently begged, "Have mercy on me. Please don't take your shirt off. Please don't take your shirt off. Please don't take your shirt off." while singing along with Third Day on my iPhone and exercising with my eyes closed.

And secondly... I don't remember what secondly was now.

"But I tell you that anyone who looks at a (man) lustfully has already committed adultery with (him) in (her) heart."

Matthew 5.28

"I made a covenant with my eyes

not to look lustfully at a young woman."

Job 31.1

The only man I'm morally allowed to make love with is out of the picture and that is just no fair for my lusty little self left over here alone and about to burst into flames. I've had to restrain myself from driving over to my husband's house and attacking him. (It's absurd, but I'm not really kidding here, folks.)

"Yeah-yeah-yeah, you don't love me, you broke my heart, you're happier than ever, you have a new lease on life, blah blah blah... I'm about to die here. Pool table? Garage floor? I don't care. Let's get it on."

Is that sinful thinking? The theological answer is above my pay grade. The pharisaical whispering of condemnation in my head says yes, but I think God says no. It's not sin, but it's definitely unwise. It does me no good.

"Daughters of Jerusalem,

I charge you by the gazelles and by the does of the field:

Do not arouse or awaken love

until it so desires."

Song of Solomon 3.5

Just as an aside, I've watched many women who are separated or divorced -- really good women -- toss out everything they've ever stood for because they were desperately lonely and missed being touched by a man. Ladies, if you're doing that, stop it right now. This is your big sister, Anna, saying without any judgement and with a great deal of love and empathy, "Honey, I get it. I really, really, really understand. But, for your own sake, sweetheart, stop." If you need encouragement in this area, comment or email me. I'd be honored to pray with and for you.

Celibacy is for the birds. And yet, God has me (and maybe you) here on purpose. For a purpose. For my good. Job got that which is why he made that covenant with God. Not because he was a prude, or didn't have desires, or was somehow perfect, but because he knew that that's what was God's best for him.

"The very passage of an impure thought through the mind
leaves pollution behind it."

Barnes' Notes on the Bible

That sounds so stodgy and puritanical, but it's true.

Let's think about what's really going on...

Physically. On fire for physical connection (hand holding, hugs, kisses, sexual intimacy) and having no husband to woo with some Barry White and a sheer nighty.

Spiritually. Deeply desiring that spiritual communion, the oneness that God designed and finding the spiritual space for the one I am one with... empty.

Mentally. I used to be able to be a wanton woman for my husband and entertain fantasies about what exactly was going to happen when he got home and the kids were in bed (or not) and now thinking like that is fruitless.

Emotionally. My heart misses being loved and cared for, connected with another but there's no one there.

Since jumping my husband isn't a wise (or available) option, how can I stay pure in all of those ways for my own good?

Pray! Pray! Pray!

Guard my heart.

Do what's right.

Be in command of my thoughts and emotions.

Remember, my mind is not in charge of what I do, I am.

Now, I simply don't have those freedoms. My body isn't going to get any action. My spirit is the Lord's alone. Emotionally, I have to rely on the love of friends and family. My mind has to be held captive. Pure thoughts! So, I've made the same covenant as Job.

This is my no-sex oath.

And I have to get distracted whenever any part of me wanders on over to the Love Shack and remember that the greatest and most satisfying love comes from the Lord.

"For your Maker is your husband
-- the Lord Almighty is His Name --
the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer;
He is called the God of all the earth."

Isaiah 54.5

Until Death Do Us Part

2013-02-09T21:30:00.001-08:00

Almost without fail, people who hear that my husband and I separated are immediately shocked, sad, very loving, and then they give some version of the same response...

"You'll find love again."

"Someday you'll find a man to spend your life with."

"You'll meet someone wonderful sooner than you think."

Dear, amazing, sweet, darling family, friends and strangers,

STOP IT! Just stop.

Love,
Me

It feels like a slug in the gut every time. My life, marriage, and family just shipwrecked like... five minutes ago. I have made a lot of progress in grieving, healing, owning my part, repenting, and forgiving, thank God, but I'm still very much slogging through the wreckage. And will be probably for a long time. It hurts me when you gloss over my current heartbreak straight to some future "happily ever after".

It's kind of like what people say to a woman who has had a miscarriage:

"Oh, honey, don't worry, you'll get pregnant soon."

What?!?

Where are their heads? The thought of an imagined future pregnancy (which, by the way, is not guaranteed) does not take away the pain of having your hopes and dreams dashed the moment you discovered your sweet, tiny baby's heart stopped beating. The thought of getting pregnant again might feel like a betrayal. It might be scary and painful. And, it could never, ever take away the very real, current suffering of losing a baby.

Moving on with another man wouldn't and couldn't heal my heart, friends. It wouldn't make me forget the loss and heartbreak. It wouldn't make me feel better.

It would seriously and stupidly complicate my life.

That isn't to say I don't love men. I do. I love the company of men probably more so than women. To be very sexist -- I love their untamable spirit, their innate strength, their energy, the way they think, their sense of adventure, their honor (Ain't nothin' like a man in uniform, baby!), their competitiveness, that most of them can watch Gladiator, or The Patriot, or Braveheart 6,792 times and still love them, all of which is so fantastically different from women. Besides that, they're nice to look at.

Totally as an aside, men are definitely more beautiful than women in general, don't you think? Yes, there are a lot of stunning women out there, but it's just way easier for men to be handsome without a lot of effort. Think about it, God made most male animals far lovelier than their female counterparts. It's true. Guys are just prettier.

Back on topic, I don't begrudge women who do move on. God bless 'em! I hope the man they fall in love with and marry is someone who can walk through joy and pain, fun and trouble with them in a dazzling partnership and friendship, growing together, sharpening one another, supporting and honoring one another, laughing every day, having delicious and world-rockin' love-making, fighting fair and productively, with truth and trust as foundations, and with God at the center.

One of my dearest friends suffered through the terrible shock of finding out her husband of 25ish years had been cheating for the bulk of those years with many different women. She went through the agony of trying to stay married to an Olympic gold champion liar and bounder until the Lord revealed that he was still being unfaithful.

She dug in and spent years hard at the emotional work of recovery with the Lord and came out like gold, having chosen forgiveness, and finding peace and joy and a deep, rich relationship with Christ. Then she met a lovely man, a sweet, kind, Jesus-loving, others-centered, servant-hearted man who absolutely adores her and treats her like the queen that she is. I couldn't be more thrilled and delighted for my precious friend.

But, that's not for me.

I am married. To have and to hold. From this day forward. For better. For worse. For richer. For poorer. In sickness and in health. Until death do us part.

I don't have any intention of not being married. My husband will probably divorce me sooner rather than later. But, even then...

"The truth is I gave my heart away

a long time ago. My whole heart.

And I never really got it back."

Sweet Home Alabama

I am retired.

Not from life. Not from loving and serving those around me. Not from joy. Just from wanting anything other than me and Jesus.

"Now, to the unmarried and the widows I say:

It is good for them to stay unmarried, as I do."

1 Corinthians 7.8

"I would like you to be free from concern.

An unmarried (wo)man is concerned

about the Lord's affairs -- how (s)he can please the Lord."

1 Corinthians 7.32

So, sweet friends who I know only want me to be happy, I love you so very much.

Now, knock it off.

All You Need Is Love? ... Letter to My Husband

2013-02-05T19:32:00.000-08:00

"Do everything in love."

1 Corinthians 16.14

Here's the thing... I've tried to reconcile with my husband enough times. I've reached out enough. Prayed enough. Cried enough. Laid down my own way enough. Attempted to tear down the walls between us enough. Humbled myself enough. Repented enough. Forgiven enough. Overlooked enough. Brushed off stinging words and behavior enough. Hacked away at my selfishness and pig-headedness enough. Responded in love enough! I've done my part!

Enough!

These self-righteous thoughts roll around in my head. And, it wouldn't take me two minutes to find a fantastically defensive, wonderful girlfriend to blab the latest to in order to hear, "What a jerk! You don't deserve that! You don't have to put up with that!"

And I agree. I don't deserve it!

Today, I am recovering from some really low, mean behavior, and a scathing email dripping with sarcasm. It would seem like a bad time to write about love. Except that this moment right here is where the rubber meets the road, isn't it? Right when my heart is hurt and my ire is up. Right when my flesh wants to blast back. Right when the perfect, cunning retort is aimed and ready to fling like acid out of my mouth.

This is my moment.

"I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love

will have the final word."

~Martin Luther King, Jr.

Mistreatment, abandonment, blaming, verbal attacks, abuse, intimidation, the soul-crushing opposite of love... not what I signed up for.

But, I was the one who willingly said,

"I, Anna, take you, ____,

to be my lawfully wedded husband,

to have and to hold, from this day forward,

for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer,

in sickness and in health,

until death do us part."

No one forced me to make those vows. But, hooooo-boy, I did NOT count on it going this way. And, what really fries my bacon is that

I still don't have any excuse not to be loving!

It is nowhere in the Bible and I. HAVE. LOOKED! Love keeps on loving.

Love enforces appropriate boundaries.
Love protects those who cannot protect themselves.
Love corrects someone who is wrong.
Love tries again and again and again.
Love lets people go if that's what they choose.
Love lets consequences happen.
Love gets help when help is needed. (Friends, family, counsellors, pastors, doctors, rehab clinics, whatever is needed. Love even calls the police when necessary.)

Love does not just lay down and take abuse.

As Elisabeth Klein Corcoran says, "I have said from the beginning and I will say as long as I’ve got a place to say anything that a woman in a marriage who is being treated harshly - verbally abused, spiritually abused, economically abused, physically abused, sexually abused, controlled, manipulated, lied to, living with a spouse’s addiction and its effects – should get help*. She should not automatically divorce, but she should absolutely not just take it. And that there is help out there."

BUT,

love still loves!

I have a notebook full of thoughts, quotes, poems, Bible verses, and messages about love. And when I crack that baby open, I get hit smack in the face with how bad I am at loving. Truthfully, I am more than a little shy about writing about love when I've been such a spectacular flop at it. But as Patsy Clairmont says, "God uses cracked pots" so I can have hope for my crackpot self and share a few of those scribblings.

First and foremost -

"God is Love."

1 John 4.8

So, love is the chief virtue of the Christian and needs to be present in all that I do. If I'm not loving, I'm not representing Jesus.

Love & repentance/forgiveness go together, hand-in-glove. If I'm not repenting (which means turning around 180 degrees/ completely changing direction) and choosing to forgive (even if I feel zero forgiveness), I am not really loving.

There's a HUGE difference between feelings of romantic love and actual love. Love is self-sacrificial no matter how you feel. Love is ACTION. Love costs. Real love has skin in the game. Love gives. And keeps giving. And keeps giving.

"Love is patient.

Love is kind, sweet, gentle, calm.

It does not envy. It doesn't want it all.

It does not strut around with a swelled head.

It does not dishonor others.

It is not self-seeking. It is not always "me first."

It doesn't fly off the handle in anger.

It doesn't relentlessly keep score of wrongs.

Love does not secretly delight in evil.

It rejoices with the truth.

It always protects.

Always trusts in God.

Always hopes and looks for the best.

Always presses on.

Love never fails."

1 Corinthians 13.4-8

Pride is the opposite of love. God actually opposes the proud (James 4.6), so, the things that, in my pride and selfishness, block love -- tension, anxiety, irritation, distraction, all my little go-to gods -- have got to die. Holiness requires repentance, LOVE, and personal change, being rid of pride and mockery, and a true humility of spirit.

God takes the way I treat others personally, so I must be lavish with love, patient, kind, slow to anger, respectful, and listen more than I speak.

So, can you tell I've been getting clobbered about this issue? No matter where I turn, God puts love and what it is supposed to look like right in my face.

My church is even doing a series called "Relationology" (the study of relationships)! A couple of weeks ago Pastor Kenton Beshore shared a message on marriage and what a covenant relationship means. (Part 2 of the marriage message, preached by Pastor Doug Fields is just as killer. Guys, you might want to buckle up before you listen.) It wrecked me. I totally ugly cried at church... again.

And then my friend, Beth blogged "Grace Goes Both Ways".

So, last week I wrote a letter to my son and shared the blood and guts poured into that with you. But, after that, the Lord kept whispering in my ear that my husband deserved the same treatment.

I wasn't exactly thrilled. So, I just ignored Him. But, then I couldn't sleep.

I asked God, "Do I have to? Is there any way I can get out of this? I mean, he lied, broke promises, ditched me, and treated me terribly in every possible way! I don't want to be loving any more! It's not like it matters to him anyway!

*I* don't matter to him! He just looks at me like I have two heads and it infuriates him when I'm loving to him! It is degrading to me. Embarrassing. Devastating. Enough! NO! I'm out. I'm just going to be way over here and he can be way over there. I'll be civil, but that's all."

But, God wasn't letting me off the hook.

So, I prayed with my trusted's who were concerned about what the aftermath would look like, I wrote, scratched out my words, grumbled at God here at there, re-wrote, sweated, wrestled with my unwillingness, and finally submitted and finished the letter.

Then I didn't send it for two more days.

I know... Lame.

Finally, I did send it off. Not envisioning a renewal of vows ceremony. Not obsessively checking my email. Even though I didn't feel like it. Even though he would probably just disdain and mock me.

Dear _________,

In my pride I have resisted writing this letter. But, I’m doing it anyway not expecting anything from you in return.

There’s no question that you and I need to be separated for safety and sanity’s sake, but I want you to know that I still choose to love you even if there isn’t an ounce of love for me in return. Not because I want to, not because I’m crazy, not because I’m holier than thou, but because that’s what love does.

Love loves.

I want you to hear it from me even though it may not seem like it to you and you may feel like I am your enemy. I am not. I forgive you for the ways you have hurt me and am incredibly grateful for the Lord’s forgiveness for the ways that I’ve hurt and angered you.

You may still not want to discuss that and that’s ok. But, God is a miracle-worker, He can recreate our marriage and family so that both are healthy, whole, and happy, and I believe that He wants to. As I wrote R, I don’t want you to believe that there isn’t a way back. There is.

I’m not trying to convince you of anything. I expect nothing.

I just want you to know that I love you. Even after everything that has happened. No matter what. Past all of your sins and all of mine.

I choose to love you. End of story.

It wasn't well received. So, now here I am. Sad. Mad.

"SEE, God! I told You!"

"Anna... I asked you to obey. No matter what the result. And you did. I am proud of you."

And, this is my moment.

Here's what I choose (thanks to Mama Joyce):

I don't care what I feel like,

I am going to obey God

and DO the right, loving thing!

Fling no acid.

No blasting back.

Repent again for the angry thoughts that boil up when I feel hurt.

Pray for him.

Forgive him with all my heart because forgiving him frees me. And because being loving isn't about him, it's my response to God's forgiveness and love for me.

Thank Jesus for him and for the good God is doing in my heart and in my soul through this.

And ask the Lord to bless him today.

"A new commandment I give you;

Love one another.

As I have loved you, so you must

love one another."

John 13.34

Letter To My Son

2013-02-03T18:02:00.001-08:00

Of my five children, my older son is the one most like me. He's blonde with hazel eyes, olive skin, and a square jaw. He is sensitive, has a big heart to help others, is musically inclined, and a natural comedian. When he was small I called him my little meatball. He's the only baby I've ever known with abs. (That is definitely not like me!) He was just strong and on. the. go. every minute of the day except to take snuggle breaks cuddling with me and his "fa-baba" (favorite blanket).

He is my baby. My heart. My firstborn son.

Last year during the burning down, I did the worst and hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life.

I looked around at our utterly broken, scary, intolerable, volatile circumstances... and told my precious 16-year-old son that I loved him with all of my heart, forever and ever, but that because of his behavior that put others in danger, he had to move out (with my husband) until it was safe for all of us to live together again.

I'm not going to tell you all the reasons why except to say that several shocking events made it clear it was what had to be done for safety and sanity's sake.

I've had to make a few really horrible decisions in my life -- horrible in that there was no other choice but to be the adult and make the terribly hard, heartbreaking call. It's just part of life. In March, my beloved dog of 11 years suddenly collapsed and I rushed him to the vet knowing he was dying, and painfully. We drove together, just us, him sighing and looking to me for comfort and me stroking his head and telling him what a very good boy, the king of all dogs really, he was and how grateful I would always be to God for his friendship. I was the one who decided it was time rather than to try heroic measures to add a few days, weeks, or months to his life. I chose that for him because he was a noble friend and I owed him so very much. Being there for him as he slipped into Heaven was such a sad, but holy moment. It was an honor.

That's the normal kind of horrible decision. It's part of the package. We know there's going to be some measure of sadness in every year that we're on the planet. We expect it because it's just life.

Not this.

Not turning away your flesh and blood because he is a danger to himself and others.

I don't know how to recover from it. When I think about my son, and how since that day he has refused any gestures of love from me, told me the more I reach out to him saying I love him, miss him, and am praying for him, the more he hates me, my throat closes up.

"Blessed are those who mourn,

for they will be comforted."

Matthew 5.4

What is he going through? What has all of this done to him? What hurts? What fears? What anxieties? Oh, dear God, how wish I could be there to comfort him and love him through this! What lies does he believe about his value and worth?

"But, even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.

Fear not, therefore;

ye are of more value than many sparrows."

Luke 12.7

And, when will the Lord bring us together again?

I want to rewind life back to when he was that precious tow-headed baby and enjoy every single moment all over again. I want to rewind back to when he first got angry. Whatever that initial moment was that derailed my boy and set him on this course that has been so destructive and painful. I blame myself and weep for all the things I did over the years that made it worse for him, made it harder for him, alienated him, or caused him pain or confusion and in the middle of the night that list of my sins plays in my head on repeat. I want to make it all un-happen so much my heart cannot bear it.

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life,

neither angels nor demons,

neither the present nor the future,

nor any powers, neither height nor depth,

nor anything else in all creation,

will be able to separate us from the love of God

that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Romans 8.38-39

I worry about my son day and night and have to continually give those fears over to God and entrust him to my Father in Heaven knowing He loves my son galaxies and millenia more than I ever could. And I remember that God has forgiven me for my wrongdoing, my stupidity, selfishness, perfectionism, over-strictness, inflexibility, and on and on.

The moment my two men moved out, the whole house breathed relief. From the chaos, from the drama, from the abuse. But, then we entered into a new pain -- the grief of loss and abandonment when neither man chose to make things right but went the other direction instead.

Relief and grief.

It's the relief of having a leg riddled with cancer cut off. You'll live and be grateful for it, but without a vital part of yourself intact and will forever be affected.

Last year my baby boy laid in a hospital bed after having done something reckless. That was the moment I realized the face he showed me wasn't real. That the golden thread of honest relationship between us had broken. That was when I realized I was impotent to help, powerless to protect. And blamed.

I want to say to him Lysa TerKeurst's words (paraphrased), "Son, God's instructions, God's boundaries, the ones I've tried to live by and instill in you, aren't cruel barriers to keep you from freedom. They are protective restrictions meant to define where safe freedom can be found." But for now, I don't have that access.

For now.

Last summer, the Lord gave me these verses.

"See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands;

your walls are ever before me. Your sons hasten back, and those who laid you waste depart from you. Lift up your eyes and look around; all your sons gather and come to you. As surely as I live, declares the Lord, you will wear them all as ornaments; you will put them on like a bride."

Isaiah 49.16-18

So, I know deep down inside that my son, who is so like me both in appearance and in spirit, will be back. Someday. And I can kiss him and tell him how very much I love him and how sorry I am for every wrong. That moment will be a holy honor.

Dear R,

Even though you don't want relationship with me right now, I want you to know that I love you, son, more than you can imagine. I want you to hear that from me even if you don't believe it right now.

And, I am truly confident that the Lord will restore our relationship someday because God is God and He is in the restoration business. I don't ever want you to think that I don't want that or that there isn't a way back. There is. My door is always open to you. I am here for you if you ever need me. I'm not trying to convince you of anything, nor expecting anything at all from you.

I just want you to know that I love you.

No matter what.

Forever.

Mama

What Was My Fault? (Part 1)

2013-01-25T10:19:00.002-08:00

This post has taken weeks to write. Probably actually months. Good grief, it's really taken years now that I think about it.

It's a sticky issue, isn't it? It's complicated trying to weed through who did what to whom and to figure out as best as you can what the truth is, what was real in the meltdown and what wasn't, what reactions really had nothing to do with you and vice versa, what issues that caused pain were truly not their fault but just picked at injuries from way before you ever met, what was exaggerated, or blame-shifted, or simply not handled with grace. Even with wise counsel, a lot of space and a broadening perspective, it's hard to figure out what stuff is your stuff.

Because what that person did hurt. It mattered. And what you did to that person hurt, and it mattered. And sometimes those things get very, very tangled.

So, right after saying that I'm not going to focus so much on figuring out all the ways that I negatively contributed to the breakup of my marriage and family and just accept the rejection and heartbreak, I'm going to tell you what I think. Not because it's inconsistent (although, as a woman inconsistency is my prerogative), but because I think it's important, since we're talking about the nitty-gritty, to be authentic and transparent, albeit pseudonymously. Yes, the irony is a wee tad hilarious.

It's called "Part 1" because it is by no means exhaustive because, thankfully, the Lord only gives us bits at a time, enough for us to digest without drowning in shame. I'm sure that He will continue teaching me and revealing the garbage in my heart and behavior as I'm able to receive it and be corrected and not overwhelmed.

Without chasing unrejection as it's purpose, I've been walking out this confession. Not to my husband. Not to my son. To God.

The truth is that this is not just a story only of the weighty grief of the loss of my marriage and relationship (for now) with my older son, but first and foremost it's a story of reconciliation with God when I didn't even know that was needed. That's the surprise. It's a story of Him chasing me until I could run no more.

I look back to that awful, climactic day when things had escalated so out of control with my husband and older son that it became intolerable and dangerous and I was left with no other choice but to ask them to leave until it was safe and wise for all of us to be under the same roof together and I realize that it was the rending of something deeper than imaginable at that time. (** Read this post by Leslie Vernick -- imperative for women in abusive marriages, especially those praying for restoration but determined not to repeat of the same old patterns of abuse! **) The knowledge that repairing the damage was now out of my hands, could not be done by me, and that in protecting the rest of us I would likely lose my husband and son, could no longer delay me drawing the line for safety and sanity's sake. It was as much "time" as it is for a woman in labor. There was no holding that baby back one more minute. That moment was going to be birthed come Hell or high water.

I have wished over and over that I could be one of those bold, take-charge women who would get one look at abusive behavior and say, "No. No way, honey. Uh uh. Forget it. Here's your hat. Don't let the door hit you on the heinie" and shake the dust off and walk away.

But, I am not. I've grieved, and wrung my hands, and paced back and forth, and have written tomes in journals, and talked for hours with wise mentors, and pounded the gates of Heaven.

I've wrestled and been hounded by my part in it. Guilt, guilt, guilt! Tears, tears, tears. What part was I responsible for? How did I contribute negatively? In what ways had I sinned against, hurt, and angered my husband and children? Chasing my tail with obsessive guilt, responsibility, and so much grief over my own wrongdoing.

That began a journey that I didn't expect to lead where it did.

To my relationship with the Lord.

And, this is important -- The fact that my husband didn't feel like he "should have to" honor me, our marriage, or family by doing the hard heart-work of owning and humbly taking responsibility for his behavior, feeling remorse, confessing the truth, and being held accountable during a long process of reconciliation... no matter how devastating that is... it truly doesn't have anything at all to do with the part that was my fault.

Let me explain: Although he made the decision not to repent and repair our marriage & family (That's on him.), his sin doesn't mitigate mine.

It doesn't.

For a while I hung my hat on his behavior, complaining, blaming, and accusing him to God as if his actions somehow deleted my culpability. Isn't that such a stupid way of trying to water down my own mistakes and sin? Comparing it to someone else's? My fault is my fault before God and before others. His is his.

So, here's what I understand so far to be
MY FAULT:

God was not the One I loved most. I fell dead-bang head-over-heels with this amazing, young, brilliant, handsome, young man, and let my relationship with the Lord take the back seat lickety split. The way back seat.

I was too needy. Some women are just naturally much more independent. Not me. I wish I had been. I wouldn't take back how much I loved him, but I wish I would have had the maturity to be as content with him as without him. Looking back, I regret my neediness for affection, attention, companionship, and intimacy.

I didn't appreciate him enough. His hard work and his efforts in our marriage early on didn't get the praise from me that was due. It hurt him.

I didn't focus on his good traits & habits, and ignore the bad.

I came into our marriage with unrealistic expectations about romance, what marriage meant, what partnering was. Very early into our friendship, he and I were talking about my relationship with my former boyfriend (a truly lovely, kind and godly man. Still is.) and I said that it was "good". He challenged me, "Are you willing to settle for 'good'"? I was promised the fairy tale and fully expected one.

I didn't let go of injuries that happened early on. As an example, on the first morning of our honeymoon as we ate breakfast in fluffy, white bathrobes and I had a perfectly happy cheshire cat grin plastered on, he sheepishly said that he wasn't sure he wanted to be married...

Yeah...

That was bad. But, instead of understanding that he was a 21 year old young man suddenly being fully aware of the enormity of the responsibility of husbandhood and future fatherhood and all that entailed, I got emotionally and psychologically bulldozed by his confession. Truthfully, it ate at my girl-heart and I let that plant the seed for me chasing and chasing his love, and more and more unrequitedly.

I didn't respect him simply because he was my husband. Not good.

I put him in control of my happiness way, way too often.

I didn't listen to his heart when his words hurt me.

I tried to win his parents galactically unsuccessfully and didn't react to their distaste for me with grace. Being liked and accepted by them was plain ol' not going to happen, and I didn't have the wisdom to just let it be ok. I got hurt when they compared me unkindly to former girlfriends, openly rejected me for not being "the best candidate for marriage", made fun of me about personal things (like my body or my taste in clothing) "just teasing" in front of others, and made our engagement and marriage very painful and filled with constant, intense pressure and conflict, so within a few years I pulled back emotionally and with the investment of time. This frustrated and angered my husband far more than I realized and far, far more than he was willing to tell me because it put him in the position of having to defend me (which he was either unable or unwilling to do).

I became more and more insecure as I realized he wasn't standing by/with me. I think I sometimes set him up to "come through" for me and when he didn't, I got hurt and anxious.

I started having "Come to Jesus" talks outlining what I needed, what had to change or... and then panicked that he wouldn't follow through -- and he wouldn't.

I let fear and upsetness grow just below the surface. Never overtly, but it hounded me daily like waiting for an atomic bomb to drop.

I didn't have fun no matter what was going on in our marriage. I wasn't nearly enough fun no matter what. I let days be spoiled by petty things instead of enjoying what could be enjoyed and forgetting the rest. I hung on to upsetness, chewing on frustrations and worries over and over.

I expected more of him that he was willing to give, or be, or do. I expected (and demanded) more from him as a husband, as a father, and even as a man.

I was frustratingly incapable of loving and wifing him in a way that helped him or that he could receive... Whatever wisdom or skill or grace loving and wifing him required, I lacked,

so at some point I made an internal decision to be the best darn housewife, mama, homeschooler, ministry director, worship team member, adoption activist, and jacqueline-of-all-trades known to man. Since I was bad at wifing my husband, I'd be a smashing success at everything else. This angered and alienated him. It didn't do any favors for my relationships with my kids, either. To tell you the truth, this seriously confused me. I thought attempting to be Suzi Awesome and fabulously amazing, leaping tall buildings while juggling china plates and looking pretty would help. It didn't. It made him feel small.

I looked down on him for his choices that were selfish and/or foolish and for not actively seeking or accepting wisdom from others. I judged him instead of letting him do things his way and letting the result be the result.

I counterbalanced his "good guy" by being the "bad guy" with the kids. I was always "the heavy". Recipe for disaster. And, later on, I usurped his parenting and didn't back his act when I deeply disagreed with him. I embarrassed & emasculated him with correction & criticism. I hurt and offended him.

Then, he did a really bad thing. And, he didn't really care that he had completely destroyed me by doing that really bad thing. In fact, he didn't even consider it a really bad thing and was pretty mad at me that I did. And, because all of that was completely overwhelming, instead of dealing with it, I stuffed it way down deep inside, pretended it never happened, and pasted a smile on my face for the world to see. He was happy about that, but I wasn't. It ate me alive and became a foundational crack in my ability to trust him. I think if I'd have been brave enough to insist that we deal with it back then, it would have been extremely hard, but very possible to work through. That was my fault.

About midway through our marriage, things came to an ugly head with his relatives over a very important issue involving our children. Our addressing the problem head-on (Loving confrontation is not the way they typically handle things. They tend to be under-the-rug sweepers... says the girl who ignored the really bad thing for a decade) and their lack of willingness to listen, understand, and adjust blew the relationship to smithereens. Instead, they asked him to leave me and "come back home". Of course, I thought we were "in this together". In the difficulty together. In the grief together. In commitment together. In all of it together. I did not fully understand, until it was years too late, that even though at the time he said that he was with me, the truth was that he wanted relationship with them more than he was willing to stand behind me and our family. I did not realize that relationship with his relatives was a deal-breaker, that if he had to choose between us and them, actually between me and them, he would choose them. I definitely would have done things differently had I known. And, looking back, I should have known. Truthfully, I think deep down inside I did know that (which is why I worried so much) and so I'm responsible for not handling that entire issue differently.

So very many hurtful things I never should have said or even thought. Bad stuff. Things you can't take back.

I became increasingly scared, uptight and obsessed. I became consumed by our marital strain. It became a broken tooth, the kind that your tongue just can't stay away from. My fear & anxiety about our marriage manifested in all the signs of grief -- anger, control, manipulation, panic, depression, anxiety, exhaustion, bargaining, and on and on. I turned our marriage & family into an idol. It was all I thought about.

I was totally miserable, totally without joy (except for a short month Dec11-Jan12... Tell ya about that later.) for the last few years.

I lacked gentleness.
I lacked sweetness.
I was full of pride.
Impatience.
Entitlement.
Ingratitude.
Blaming.
Resentment and bitterness.
Justification, self-righteous excuses. As I've said before, it was me not owning my own stuff. Pointing at him way too much, pointing at myself way too little.

I let his sins block the view of my own sins.

I didn't share in the financial burden. I didn't find a way to help provide when I saw financial collapse coming. Since I was the one who was able to have a broader perspective, it was up to me to do what I could. I didn't.

I didn't let him quit our marriage when he wanted to. I clung, and begged, and grabbed, and was desperate. Very bad. It just annoyed and angered him.

I basically drove him crazy trying to force him to husband me and father our children the way I needed/wanted, and be the man I thought he could and should be as if what he chose to do and who he chose to be was for me to decide.

All of this stuff is mine. It's hard to look at. It's challenging to own. Some of it has been hard to even feel sorry about until the Lord started working on my hardness of heart because my flesh is full of excuses.

There's so much I wish I would have done differently. So much I regret. So much I'm still weeding through with the Lord. But, I'm thankful for His patience with belligerent me, and grateful for His forgiveness.

Hopefully Part 2 won't take me years to write...

"Who is a God like You, who pardons sin

and forgives transgressions?

You do not stay angry forever,

but delight to show mercy.

You will again have compassion on us;

You will tread our sins underfoot

and hurl all our iniquities into the depths of the sea."

Micah 7.18-19

"And forgive us our trespasses

as we forgive those who trespass against us."

Matthew 6.12

"If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just

and will forgive us our sins

and purify us from all unrighteousness."

1 John 1.9

Chasing Unrejection

2013-01-10T17:49:00.001-08:00

"You're trying to be un-rejected."

That's what a friend told me.

"Stop looking back. Stop dissecting the why's and wherefore's and asking what your fault in it was. You've done that. You couldn't prevent this from happening. Stop trying to figure out a way to have a lifelong marriage. You have tried to reconcile a thousand times and gotten a thousand solid no's. Stop trying to drag a 200-lb man up Mount We-Can-Make-It who doesn't want to go there with you. Sometimes love means letting go, honey. Stop trying to be un-rejected and just lean into the reality that you've been royally, terribly, cruelly dumped."

Wow.

That's pathetic.

Her words stung, but they smarted with truth, the painful truth.

Who is this desperate woman within me who bursts with longing for a life that has been decimated? What is that all about? Why does the panic of grief swirl within my chest taking my breath away? Does my inner woman really believe that if I can figure it out, sift through every detail and put each piece in place, get my head wrapped around each tragic part, that it'll be miraculously mended? Like it never happened?

Chasing un-rejection requires an astonishingly low level of self-respect or an incredibly high level of self-cruelty. What purpose does it serve? Maybe there's a smidge of nobility of intention there, but I suspect not. Maybe it started out from the standards of what a Christian wife should be and do. But it sure went ten kinds of haywire from there.

One time at a 12-step group for wives of men like my husband a young mother spoke up. She was absolutely beautiful with long, curly red hair, a smattering of adorable freckles, and big blue eyes. But, when she spoke she just waaaah-waaaah-waaaah-ed over her husband, this man who had behaved terribly destructively, didn't want her, or to be a responsible father, was horribly selfish, and on and on.

"Whyyyyy, doesn't he love me enough

to stop this behavior?

Whyyyyyy-hyy-hyy when I would do

absolutely anything for him

and have loved him all my adult life?

What am I going to dooooo-hoo-hoo?"

I sat there thinking, "Good heavenly days, woman, get a grip! Have a little dignity. Why are you letting yourself be wrecked emotionally, financially, spiritually, mentally, and in every other way by a man who couldn't care less about you? Seriously, how pathet..."

Oh.

Ummm...

Darn.

Stasi Eldredge wrote in her book Captivating

"To the woman He said, '...Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you.' ... Woman is cursed with loneliness (relational heartache), with the urge to control (especially her man), and with the dominance of men (which is not how things were meant to be, and we are not saying it is a good thing - it is the fruit of the fall and a sad fact of history).

Isn't it true? Aren't your deepest worries and heartaches relational - aren't they connected to someone? Even when things are good, is your vast capacity for intimacy ever filled in a lasting way? There is an emptiness in us that we continually try to feed. And can't you see how much you need to have things under your control - whether it's a project or a ministry or a marriage? Are you comfortable trusting your well-being to someone else? And haven't you felt "this is a man's world?" felt your vulnerability as a woman to be a liability? Most women hate their vulnerability. We are not inviting - we are guarded. Most of our energy is spent trying to hide our true selves, and control our worlds to have some sense of security.

When a woman falls from grace, what is most deeply marred is her tender vulnerability, beauty that invites to life. She becomes a dominating, controlling woman - or a desolate, needy, mousy woman. Or some odd combination of both, depending on her circumstances.
(Captivating, 49-50)

Dominating, controlling, desolate, needy. Ok, ok, Stasi, I heard you.

When someone decides not to love you enough to work it out, there's nothing you can do to make them love you and work it out mutually, humbly, and respectfully. You can't control the situation, can't beg enough, can't manipulate and cajole him into changing his heart or choices. You can't do anything about it. Nothing. You can only repent, pray, and forgive, and sometimes it's imperative, especially if there's been abuse, to do so waaay over here, while that person is waaay over there. Just breathe in and out walking with God one foot in front of the other.

So where do I go from here? What do you do once you give it over to God? That's scary for a control-freak like me. What do you do once you let go, once you fully accept the rejection and abandonment, once you let the heartbreak wash over you and you surprisingly don't die from it? You live. And live knowing you cannot hold onto ashes anymore.

The only answer I can come up with that truly, deeply satisfies is Jesus and how He loves me.

Will never leave or forsake me - Romans 8.38-39
Is with me - Psalm 34.18
Comforts me - Matthew 5.4
Values me - Luke 12.7
Fights on my behalf - Exodus 14.14
Redeems me - Psalm 103.4
Strengthens me - Isaiah 40.31
Never changes - Malachi 3.6
Calls me His own - Psalm 43.1-3
Sings over me - Zephaniah 3.17

God looks at my heart, at my soul, at my witness, at me and says with fatherly love, "To mature Anna and cut off the dead parts, the selfishness, inflexible, ugly, fleshly nature and refine it into Christlikeness, she needs to experience rejection and an unwillingness to reconcile. She needs to have her heart crushed so she can learn to find joy in Me alone. She needs to develop thankfulness for what the journey teaches her. She needs to learn to find gratefulness within suffering and loss."

He allows it for my good.

I've danced back and forth with thankfulness not just in, but for this season of grief and pain. Sometimes grateful, sometimes really, really not grateful. But, it's funny how when you lay down your idols and the hurts you've hugged to your breast and begin to say "thank You, Father" for not only every good that You provide, but also for the complete upending of life, for the sorrows and fires... thankfulness for all the details of life starts to grow within you. Ann Voskamp's book "One Thousand Gifts" is imperative reading on thankfulness through suffering. Seriously, stop reading right now and buy it. I'll wait right here. It'll rock you.

The more I study the Word and lean into Emmanuel, who though I rejected Him and constantly struggle with ingratitude, am disobedient, strong-willed, mouthy, and full of sin, leans in so close to whisper words of perfect love, and of acceptance, and of forgiveness and redemption, the more I can't escape the thankfulness that wells up within me. Reconciliation with God was born out of His pursuing me, not the other way around.

I ran.

I run.

He runs after me.

HE runs after me.

Fear. Not.

2013-01-06T17:58:00.000-08:00

“No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.

I am not afraid, but the sensation is like being afraid.

The same fluttering in the stomach,

the same restlessness, the yawning.

I keep on swallowing.

At other times it feels like being mildly drunk, or concussed. There is a sort of invisible blanket between the world and me. I find it hard to take in what anyone says.

Or perhaps, hard to want to take it in.

It is so uninteresting.

Yet I want the others to be about me.

I dread the moments when the house is empty.

If only they would talk to one another and not to me.”

~ C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed

Maybe that's part of it. Maybe it's the feeling of fear within grief, the frightening aloneness of great loss, trauma, suffering. The more I sift through these last few years, the more I realize how much I have been motivated by and influence by fear, not as a constant companion but as a subterranean haunting. Between the lines. Waiting.

Fear of being a failure
Fear of my marriage never getting better
Fear of my marriage crossing that invisible threshold of irreparability
Fear of my family falling apart
Fear of being unable to do anything about it
Fear of God's disapproval or being without His favor
Fear for my husband
Fear that I was no longer able to influence his choices
Fear that my words or actions being interpreted in ways I never intended
Fear of the example I was setting
Fear for my children, especially my older son
Fear for the future
Fear about finances
Fear about secrets, lies, hidden conversations, affairs
Fear of threats, and violence, and simmering rage
Fear in the midst of intense spiritual warfare
Fear of vulnerability, of weakness, of being unprotected, undefended
Fear of disappointing others
Fear of judgement
Fear that I do not matter, that I'm just not worth it
Fear of being "too much and yet not enough" (Stasi Eldredge)
Fear of loss of friends and family, people I cherished
Fear of abandonment, of being alone, of loneliness
Fear that it was all somehow my fault
Fear that no matter how much I tried, I would fail
Fear of my worst nightmares coming true

Fear that gripped me until my eyes bulged and made sleep impossible. Fear that wildly grew into panic. Out of proportion panic. Into such distress that I found myself unable to make a single decision fearful that it was the wrong one. That somehow I would make a grave mistake and that mistake would forever ruin everything. Enemy fear.

It was a fear that grew from the agony within my heart watching my husband refuse to husband, refuse to partner, refuse to father, refuse his whole role in our family altogether. Refuse me.

Maybe that fear has actually been grief.

I found myself grasping for him, for security, for hope, for the safe place I expected to be there, for something indicating any kind of sureness or determination to get through this together. Sometimes in anger, sometimes in tears, sometimes in isolation. Gasping for air in the middle of circular arguments, untangleable troubles, and impossible inability to communicate. Trying desperately for a way to control the madness, to contain the trouble, to curb the discord until it would hopefully pass and be better someday, to make it be ok. Scratching at the this-is-supposed-to-work-out-ness willing it with all my mind to be so. And regularly flinging myself onto my bed to wail hot tears at God in frustration, heartbreak... and fear.

Grief.

Grief is a strange beast.

I have felt Lewis' disconnection. I have felt slightly drunk on a dizzying overwhelmedness. My whole brain and all my inside parts in disarray. On our anniversary I couldn't wrap my mind around the surreality. This can't be. No. What a bizarre, alien, inscrutable thing to not have any contact with my husband, this man I've loved so fiercely, on our anniversary. But, that's what happened. (One of my dearest friends babysat me even though she was just out of surgery herself. Such loving care is overwhelming.)

How did Christmas come and go without a word? The day was joyful by choice because it was about Emmanuel and not me and I'm glad for that. Yet by late afternoon I felt a creeping dread until 11:59 became 12:00. Couldn't time just slow down so my heart could catch up to the abject inanity of my family not all being together on Christmas Day? And my gut response was fear. A screeching STOOOOOOP! like the moment before impact. A heart-racing, breathless angst of ohpleaseohpleaseohpleaseGod NO!

But, slowly, very slowly the Lord has been reaching down into those frozen, fear-riddled, grieving, panicked places and soothing my soul. Shushing me and stroking my hair. Reminding me that He is bigger than fear, bigger than grief, bigger than any human circumstance. He is the Rescuer. The Champion. The Victor.

I have nothing to fear.

Truthfully, it doesn't feel like that yet. There is no grand removal of the invisible blanket yet. No cure for the fluttering and yawning. There's no breakthrough to report. It's not healed.

So, I cling to God, thankful that He is with me even when I am shaking with uncertainty, when that subterranean beast breaks through. Sometimes there's nothing to do but to stand and press on trusting the Lord that His promises are true.

That I do have nothing to fear.
That I am His.
That He does use all things ultimately for the good.
That He is my Protector.
That He sees, and He knows, and He comforts.
That He is here.
Right now.
Right in the middle of the fear.
Right in the middle of the grief.

Because of Who He is... I will not fear.

"Fear not for I have redeemed you.

I have summoned you by name;

you are MINE!

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers,

they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire,

you will not be burned;

the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the Lord, your God,

the Holy One of Israel, your Savior."

Isaiah 43.1-3

"So do not fear, for I am with you;

do not be dismayed for I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you.

I will uphold you with My righteous right hand."

Isaiah 41.10

Comfort in Dismay

2012-12-16T17:05:00.000-08:00

Usually, I love them.

They start immediately after Thanksgiving pie, once it's officially Christmastime.

But, all the upbeat Christmas songs feel like sandpaper on my skin this year. Not the hymns, not the traditional carols. But the holly jolly, ho-ho-ho, jingle bell-y ones I simply can't enjoy. Grandma got run over, Rudolph, Frosty, Santa Baby. (Don't get me started on the romantic Christmas songs. Serious ouch.)

There's nothing wrong with those songs. There's nothing wrong with the magical, much-anticipated traditions of Christmas, little children jingling bells, hair combed carefully, wearing patent leather shoes and their dressiest clothes for the Christmas concert.

I have little ones. We will be visiting the real Santa Claus at his beach house nearby soon. Our Elf-on-the-shelf is still doing his thing this year.

It's not that.

It's just hard to enter into the lighthearted, hot cocoa, peppermint stick, twinkle-lights kind of magic of Christmas now.

Not this year.

What do you do with suffering and grief at Christmastime? How do we reconcile threat, danger, heartbreak, disaster, abandonment, trauma, betrayal, loss, fear, devastation, and broken relationships with Christmas? What about war, famine, disease, murder, the slaughter of little children and those trying to protect them in Connecticut? Unthinkable pain! Unimaginable grief!

How valuable, imperative really, are those friends who are able to share the agony, to share our weeping with us, to walk with us through suffering? Grief shared brings such comfort. Aren't you drawn towards that friend who can ease and calm and selflessly help, for the friend who knows when to talk and when to be silent, who groans with you.

And that is what Jesus came to bring. Comfort. Emmanuel. God with us.

This year, I'm hearing the lyrics of the great carols as if for the first time.

Long lay the world
In sin and error pining
Til HE appeared
And the soul felt its worth

My cousin reminded me about the comma placement in "God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen." She said, "This carol is not talking to merry gentlemen. Quite the reverse, in fact. This hymn is tidings (news) of comfort and joy to those who are in dismay. 'Remember, Christ our Savior was born on Christmas Day to save us all from Satan's power when we were gone astray.' True celebration of Christmas doesn't ignore evil in the world; it acknowledges that our world is in such a state that only a child born to us who can rightly be called Mighty God can give light to those walking in darkness." (M. H. Price)

Christ came to enter into our suffering, to be with us, to share in our trials, and to endure humiliation, rejection, judgment, scorn, threat, and a terrible death meant to shame and destroy Him, and all to redeem us from our sin bringing us comfort and JOY!

What LOVE!

Yesterday was our 22nd anniversary. The first non-iversary. I feel like a widow. Grieving. Exhausted. Fearful. As well as rejected. Shamed. Abandoned. And yet, the Lord Jesus is here. Near. Bringing comfort. Emmanuel. God with me.

"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted

And saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Ps 34.18

"O come, O come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear.

Rejoice! Rejoice!

Emmanuel shall come to thee, O Israel.

"Come, Thou long expected Jesus

Born to set Thy people free

From our fears and sins release us

Let us find our rest in Thee."

"Be near me, Lord Jesus, I ask Thee to stay

Close by me forever, and love me, I pray.

Bless all the dear children in Thy tender care,

And fit us for Heaven, to live with Thee there."

Disjointed Thoughts In Green Pastures

2012-12-10T21:58:00.001-08:00

"Well, I'm gonna get out of bed every morning... breathe in and out all day long. Then, after a while I won't have to remind myself to get out of bed every morning and breathe in and out...

and, then after a while, I won't have to think about how I had it great and perfect for a while."

~Sam, Sleepless In Seattle

OK, so I never had it great and perfect like Sam and Maggie Baldwin (Who does?), but there were a lot of great and perfect memories over the years, and there were so very many more great and perfect hopes and promises. The losses of this year, the complete demolishment of all of those hopes and promises have left me raw and reeling. Still. And wishing that weren't the case... feeling that I am somehow failing at this... wishing I were stronger... cried less... weren't so weak.

There are "up" days. Joy. Truly happy times with my friends and children. And such wonderful, tender comfort from the Lord.

But, I've needed a lot rest during this season. I'm discovering the worship within grief and the thanksgiving within weakness.

The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures
He leadeth me beside quiet waters
He restoreth my soul
He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His Name's sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of death,
I will fear no evil
For Thou art with me
Thy rod and Thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies
Thou anointest my head with oil
My cup runneth over
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
~Psalm 23

"He makes me lie down in green pastures"... Why does He have to make me? What is it that makes us (well, I'm speaking for myself here) feel like we should be able to be dealt crises or disaster and get right on up and continue in our efficiency?

We're not supposed to do that. We don't expect someone who just lost a child to cancer to be out hanging the Christmas lights the next day. We aren't shocked when a new widow doesn't immediately host the girl scouts potluck. We're not stunned if our friend who just found out her husband has had a lover for years isn't simultaneously meal planning, coupon clipping, and shopping at Trader Joe's while preparing to teach the women's Bible study.

That would alarm us, right? Like, "Oh, sweetie, you need to sit down and let me take care of you now - I insist, honey" kind of alarm. So, why feel frustrated that I'm aching, disoriented, and painfully aware of every bone and sinew like someone who just woke up in the hospital after a car crash?

This is the ICU. This place. Right here. Right now.

The note on my bedside table says:

Get out of bed.
Get in the Word.
Take a shower.
Eat real food.
Exercise.
Do something for someone else.
Laugh.
Go to bed at a decent hour.

I need this note because otherwise I'd just walk into walls.

My son will not see me. My son. My heart walking around outside my body. He won't speak to me. And so, this is a season of walking into walls.

"A time to weep and a time to laugh

A time to mourn and a time to dance."

Ecclesiastes 3.4

So, why does God have to hog-tie us to get us to lie down in green pastures for Heaven's sake?

One of the toughest things about a little time going by is that more and more people know. And more friends have been entrusted with a few details to pray with me and for our family. But, sometimes talking about things that up until now have been between me, God, and a very select group of prayer warriors opens up a can of... train wreck.

(By the way, if you really, really need a good old fashioned cryfest, please and by all means you have my blessing to watch "Beaches", "Steel Magnolias", "Marley & Me", or "The Champ", but never, ever, and I mean, never watch "The Way We Were" if you're in the middle of separation or divorce. Trust me.)

Anyway, right now I'm called to rest. Not to try to make too much of each day or accomplish too much. Just walk with God. Bring Him my prayers with thanksgiving for His goodness and mercy. Let Him tend to my heart.

Just breathe in and out all day long.

"He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."

Psalm 147.3

Being Made New

2012-11-30T11:10:00.001-08:00

Zakale

is the Swahili word

for what has been thrown away

being made new again.

Beauty for ashes.

The life we had is over, but it's still so fresh that it feels like I'm standing right next to it naked and out of sorts. It's strange and scary to be in this "new normal" when I feel like the former is just right beside me, close enough to touch.

My old life is still so close I can still even hear, taste, and smell it.

Cranberry-orange candles burning. "Our" favorite restaurants, vacation spots, TV shows, bands. Sharing spinach-artichoke dip and negotiating over the last bite. Making cookies together turned into making whoopee in the kitchen. The first time he called me a bad word and slammed the door in my face. In the later years, realizing I became anxious whenever his car drove into the driveway like an angry hurricane was heading in. And yet, there was the way our hands fit together. Perfectly. The years of hurt and alienation and the inability to communicate. Sitting in front of the fire getting our intertwined bare feet toasty, sharing a dram of scotch, and talking about nothing at all. Being side-by-side and yet feeling so alone. Finding a text that split me in half. Discovering betrayals. But also Christmas Eve champagne together with just the tree lights on. And making out in elevators. And wishing he'd look lustfully at me instead of flirting with our size-0 friend with big boobs.

God, I hate that I was thrown away!

And, yet I know that You are greater than betrayal and abandonment. Bigger than the ashes. You are the God Who makes all things new.

Waves of grief and crying catch me off guard. Going to places I normally would have gone alone alone, but going this time for the first time really aloooone. (That probably made no sense.) Learning to say "I" instead of "we". I thought we were going to be a "we" and an "us" forever.

And then there's the stuff you really need a guy for -- heavy boxes, moving things, reaching the platter on the top shelf, cleaning up the gross things (except vomit - He could not deal with barf which was both hilarious and annoying.), investigating scary noises in the dark, that kind of thing. (I'm not even addressing the sex issue because that's a whole post all by itself.)

But, you know what has also been springing up from time to time? JOY that catches me off guard, too. Actual JOY! Like, very clearly Holy Spirit JOY! At unexpected moments. At strange times.

Cruel words spoken -- JOY that I held back a response!

A request for financial support denied -- JOY that I know in my knower that God will provide!

Taking the deep loneliness to God -- JOY in His presence!

Pressing in to uncovering and dealing with my sin & brokenness -- JOY in knowing that the Lord is healing me, strengthening me, being with me!

I started seeing our old marriage counselor again. She is an amazing woman of God who reminds me of a Jewish auntie, all funky jewelry, tender hand-holding, Yiddish commentary, sweet perfume, and wisdom. She's helping me autopsy my marriage, figure out what happened, better understand what my part was, and begin to press through to recovery. It's hard, emotional work.

But, I don't want to end up being that cranky lady who is still stuck in bitterness over what happened to her 35 years ago. I want to be healthy emotionally, spiritually, and mentally to enjoy life with my children and model pressing into Jesus and moving forward with hope! I'm determined to get there even if it's inch by inch!

Renewal is a process. It is agonizingly long. It requires that we wade through the in-between time with our hurt, fear, and loneliness and have patience for the healing. It means we have to choose to address the bad memories and chocolate coat them in grace.

It means we slowly lay down the grudges and sufferings and begin to forgive.

Even the abuse.

Even the abandonment.

Even the betrayal.

Even the unforgivable acts.

(Sit with that one for a moment... Even the unforgivable acts...)

We must lay those things down before the Lord so that, because our God is the God who makes all things new, JOY has room to spring up when you least expect it.

Zakale.

"Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth;

shall ye not know it?

I will even make a way in the wilderness,

and rivers in the desert."

Isaiah 43.19

A Bad Case of the Coulda/Shoulda/Woulda

2012-11-19T17:43:00.001-08:00

What coulda been done differently that I had some say in?.. I shoulda... Maybe things woulda turned out better if only I had...

It truly is an illusion. And one that has kept me spinning for too long.

Recently, I asked this question of the amazingly-wonderful women in my separation/divorce recovery group.

How does one leave room for a miracle in a broken marriage and yet move on and heal? I feel like I'm failing as a Christ-follower if I don't leave the door open a crack and yet I also feel like that's just hurting myself further. What's right? To shut out all possibility -- even a miracle - or to "move on"? I hate those moments or days when I feel confused and conflicted. Five minutes with someone reminding me of our history is enough to wake me up to the abusive past. Why do I continue to punish myself for every wrong of the past? Why do I keep trying to figure out a way that I can fix what he has assured me over and over will never be fixed? And why does the hope of our life together still haunt me?

Guilt. Shame. Confusion. Despair. False hope. Grasping. Exhaustion. Coulda/shoulda/woulda.

My husband and I were separated a few years ago. After three months, I just couldn't do it... and insisted we reconcile. I begged. Yep, I am that woman. The one who chases the man who doesn't want her. The one who begs.

Why? I've also been asking the Lord to uncover the hidden reasons that are deeper within my heart, but there are a couple that I'm fully aware of.

1. I come from a large, Christian family with many in Christian service or in the pulpit and separation (much less the Big D) is verboten, so leaving or being left means I am the one who introduced it to our family. Lest you think I'm just being dramatic, this was actually spoken to me by a close family member who said my marital failure would "taint all generations past and future." Mm-hmm, that was several years ago and it still smarts. It still alienates. It still smothers me with guilt and shame. That relationship has yet to be repaired.

2. 'Working it out' seemed to be the sensible and responsible thing to do (as a stay-at-home mother of five without a work history). Plus, I knew that I would continue to work diligently with God on my side of the street to improve our marriage and I prayed that he would do the same. It might get better! We might be healed! Someday. And if not, I told myself, "Plenty of women have endured terrible, painful, abusive marriages. What's another 30-40 years? I can do this."

3. Divorce is permanent... Right?

The truth is, I felt like I was going to die from my marriage, it was so toxic. I woke up nearly every morning for years so disappointed that the Lord hadn't taken me (or better yet, him!) in the night. That's how bad it was. And yet, it wasn't worse than the stigma attached to separation and the inevitable disdain and rejection from the Church and at least a few in the family. How much does that suck?!

So, I spent years trying this thing and that thing, reading every marriage book on the shelves, seeing a dozen counselors, trying every group and Bible study, making all the lists of positives to focus on/ negatives to ignore, praying all the prayers, lighting all the candles, losing all the weight, meeting all the sexual desires, rebooting all the habits, throwing out all the lists, quitting hanging out with friends, eating everything in the fridge, praying harder, working on having better, sexier sex, crying in the closet and begging every way possible.

And yet my mind still gets filled with all the things I coulda done, shoulda done, woulda done that might have made life go differently. Because I didn't want to let go of the hope, or lose my family, or my church, and I was sure there must be something else I could do or not do to make it work.

It's a huge reason why I filed for legal separation instead of divorce. Everything was ready to go, the little box for divorce checked, and I stood there for hours in the most miserable place in the county (the courthouse) in line to file, literally swaying back and forth with nausea, a migraine, and indecision knowing I had to have legal protection and court-ordered financial provision and yet wildly conflicted at the thought of the relationships that would be lost because of it and the permanence of such a decision. It felt like doing so made the entire thing my fault and that I would be solely blamed. That, and knowing deep in my gut that my husband would never make things right, never repair the damage between us, especially after I filed for divorce, made me physically ill.

Then a dear friend texted me "Don't do it! File for legal separation instead and leave the door open for reconciliation" and knocked all the wind out of the divorce sail and I whited out that little box and checked the one for legal separation instead. That's all it took.

One text.

That's how wobbly I was. And in a lot of ways still am.

(By the way, the precious prayer-warrior friend who texted me was right. I needed to leave that door open a crack. I needed to give my husband another chance to reconcile. Or to do nothing. And to clearly see his choice.)

But, a new friend from my support group responded to my question in a way that quieted my soul.

"Stop punishing yourself immediately. Stop trying to fix what he is unwilling to let be fixed immediately. It is not your job anymore. It is God's. Also, remember that separation and even divorce isn't the end of all hope! People can always re-marry each other again after legal separation and/or divorce! Reconciliation is always possible. If you want to honor God by leaving the door open a crack for reconciliation, it's not divorce that would prohibit that -- only unfaithfulness... And when the protections that legal separation and divorce can provide are mandatory, you must do that and rest in God's mercy and His sweet grace."

And that stopped my case of coulda/shoulda/woulda mid-spin.

Sister, if you spin like me, stop. Relax. Be at peace. God has your situation in His control.

"There is now no condemnation

for those who are in Christ Jesus."

Romans 8.1

"PEACE I leave with you;

My peace I give you.

I do not give to you as the world gives.

Do not let your hearts be troubled

and do not be afraid."

John 14.27

Well, I Declare!

2012-11-13T20:52:00.000-08:00

Years ago, my estranged husband proposed to me with the verse

"O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His Name together."
Psalm 34.3

(I'm brewing a post about the beauty of Psalm 34 -- even though it's a song that is infused with loss now -- and the promises in it that I memorized as a kid but hadn't really unpacked until recently. But that's for another day.)

We two glorifying God together, serving God together. We two walking through life together with the Lord as the Center. We two growing in our faith together. That still sounds good to me.

"As for me and my house,

we will serve the Lord!"

Joshua 24.15

Many years ago, I claimed this as my "life verse", the one that had my name on it. Then when we started having children, I made it our "family verse". Psalm 34.3 and Joshua 24.15 seemed to go well together.

We seven glorifying God together, serving God together. We seven walking through life together with the Lord as the Center. We seven growing in our faith together. That was my whole life's purpose.

A few years later, I wrote a family declaration, a proclamation of who we as a family are, our tenets if you will. The idea was borrowed, but I am sorry to say that I don't remember to whom the credit is due.

I didn't realize at the time that it was part of the growing desperation to keep my marriage and family intact as I was in denial that my husband had begun to walk away, or at least had already made the decision. He fought it. He found ways to avoid dinner/Bible devotions. So, I moved the time to breakfast, but then he decided he would just make a health shake every day and go instead of sitting down with us. Pretty quickly, we rarely had a meal with all of us at the table. Even thinking back to that time and the worry that was birthed in me then makes my insides twist.

Anyway, I dusted the list of our family tenets off today and realized something wonderful.

It's beautiful. It's good. It's brave. What I hoped, and prayed, and pressed, and fought for us to be together as a couple and as a family was a lovely, godly, and worthwhile way to be and to live even though I failed at it.

IN OUR FAMILY, WE…

… honor God. All of our behavior is measured against this standard.

… have our priorities straight which means that we serve God first, then each other, then others.

… love one another. That means we treat each other with gentleness and kindness. We live the Golden Rule.

… value and respect each other’s feelings, wishes, personal property, and boundaries. We take care to build and maintain lifelong, loving relationships.

… tell the truth no matter what the situation or the consequences.

… work towards excellence in every area of our lives to please and glorify God, even when there is no visible reward.

… value and celebrate each other’s strengths and have grace for and help each other in our weaknesses.

… assume good intentions from each other.

… forgive and forgive and forgive. We do not return unkindness with unkindness, but exchange it for mercy and love. We turn the other cheek.

… we work to build a lasting foundation in Jesus Christ to hold fast through life’s storms and disasters.

Looking back, I realize that as soon as my husband and son moved out I immediately began the process of reclaiming this territory, starting with the Golden Rule. Kind words, gentleness, truthfulness, forgiveness, and letting go of strife have been required day in and day out. No more chaos. No more fighting. No more lying. No more really bad stuff! And no more constant anxiety and uptightness. I told everyone, "Starting today, people, we are going to be down-tight!" That's right. It's a word now. Down-tight. It'll catch on.

Digging this out inspired me to be even more intentional about it. So, starting today we're memorizing these again! In a perfect world, my whole family would be seeking God and unity and loving one another together, but it's not a perfect world. My family is broken. As my 6-year-old daughter explained, "Our family was one heart, but now two pieces are missing."

But, that also means that (barring a miracle) I am now the head of my household, and I get to lead it! Even though I have to do it alone, I want to lead well. Lead towards Jesus. Lead towards Love!

"I will wait here. Go and wake the others

and tell them to follow.

If they will not, then you at least must

follow Me alone."

~Aslan

"Train up a child in the way he should go

and when he is old, he will not depart from it."

Proverbs 22.6

Several months ago, I threw a big hissy fit and threw Joshua 24.15 back at God telling Him He could keep it! I didn't even want to open the Word to that page! It hurt too much to have my whole life's purpose be rejected and thrown away.

But, God's been reminding me of the goodness of it. The richness of it. And that I didn't fail. Not by a long shot. Lord willing, I still have years ahead of me to lead my children in those family tenets. Even though I do so alone.

So, I declare our family proclamations. And I declare:

"I will magnify the Lord and exalt His Name!"

because

"As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord!"

The Crazy-Messy-Uppy-Downiness

2012-11-06T12:55:00.001-08:00

This is me. Daily. Sometimes hourly.

I'd kind of like to fast-forward through the next couple of years to the point in time when I'm consistently in a better, more stable mental and emotional state. No? Ok, well if we could just skip my 22nd anniversary that's coming up... (Sorry, can't talk about that yet. Moving on.) or the holidays in entirety then, that would be spectacular. I dread walking into the family parties -- just me and four of my children. Going around the table at Thanksgiving reading our lists of the things we are thankful for and singing traditional Thanksgiving hymns and the Junior Asparagus VeggieTales song. Christmas Eve vespers. Christmas morning... (Sorry, I can't talk about the holidays yet either. Moving on.)

Suffice it to say that I'm looking forward to reaching that place where I no longer wildly swing from tears, to anger, to confusion, to exhaustion, to hope, to disgust, to fear, and back to tears. The urge to blaze past this season straight on through to "I'm over it" is incredibly appealing.

Maturity in Christ, though, requires the long, hard journey pressing on with Him. On foot. No short cuts. And life is to be lived today. It's only going to be this day, of this month, of this year today and I don't want to miss a wink of it not moving forward. And, since I have to take this road, I want to do it well. I want God to be pleased with how I've grown. Those are the reasons why I'm resolved to stake my flag in maturity and Christlikeness.

That, and the fact that time travel isn't possible.

I trust God -- I do -- to heal my heart and my children's hearts, to bring good out of this, stability, peace, and redemption, but for now, for today,

I'm wrestling with the crazy-messy-uppy-downiness.

"Growth requires facing where you're at

so you can go to the next level."

(If you're going to grow in spiritual maturity)

"You're going to have to learn

to put your emotions aside."

~Joyce Meyer

Oh, Mama Joyce always tells the hard truths...

Putting emotions aside is an act of dogged, hourly determination. It requires a self-control that I am not yet acquainted with. Being honest with myself, transparent before God, grieving the loss of my marriage and relationship with my son, confronting my own sin, and walking that through with counselors and mentors, and choosing to both openly share my life in community AND not getting stuck in negative emotions... Tricky!

Truthfully, this journey is very hard to write about. I'd rather ignore it and be funny. I don't like to be vulnerable. And, being "open" pseudonymously feels a little ridiculous, except that it's necessary right now. Messy isn't cool. It isn't popular. It isn't welcome in polite society. It often involves the "ugly cry". It isn't together. Being in crisis means you have to lean on others and my flesh just never wants to risk that.

I'd so much rather:
be the person that helped the messy than be messy.
share with the needy than be needy.
be there for the upset than be upset.
comfort the grieved than be grieved.
visit someone who is suffering than be the one suffering.
talk the angry person off the emotional ledge than be the angry chick on the ledge.

Being the type of Christian sister that others can lean on, the kind that is able to walk with others through their messiness with empathy, wisdom and Jesus-focus, requires having first gone through trials and sufferings and come out the other side transformed.

The fact of the matter is that lately, on this journey towards healing... I've needed babysitters. Not for the kids, for me. One of my dearest friends used that term (having needed them herself through her divorce) and it is a perfect word for the kind of friend that is needed. I've needed supervision! from solid Christian sisters more than I ever imagined to be the hands and feet of Jesus, to sit beside me, pray with me, and talk things through. I've needed salty friends to remind me of Scriptures that relate directly to the current struggle. Because my heart and mind have been flinging around all kingdom come, I am so grateful for precious friends who are rooted in the Word and gently point me back to Jesus, to love, to forgiveness, mercy, repentance, trusting God, calming down, pressing on, growing in maturity, practicing self-control.

Here are some verses I've clung to:

"Blessed are those who mourn,

for they will be comforted."

Matt5.4

"Guard your heart with all diligence
for everything you do flows from it."
Prov4.23

"From everlasting to everlasting
the Lord's love is with those who fear Him & His righteousness with their their children's children."
Ps103.17

"For if you forgive other people when they sin against you,
your heavenly Father will also forgive you."
Matt6.14

"I pray that out of His glorious riches, He may strengthen you
with power through His Spirit in your inner being."
Eph3.16

"I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which
God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."
Phil3.14

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden,

and I will give you rest."

Matt11.28

When I grow up, well, when I'm at least a little further down the road from crazy-messy-uppy-downiness, I want to be a babysitter, too.

The Daily U-Turn

2012-10-29T23:27:00.003-07:00

REPENT (verb)
1. To feel remorse, contrition, or self-reproach for what one has done or failed to do
2. To be contrite
3. To feel such regret for past conduct as to change one's mind regarding it
4. To make a change for the better as a result of remorse or contrition for one's sins

I've been studying this world-rocking little volume called "Repentance -- the Joy-Filled Life" by M. Basilea Schlink. (By the way, a big thank you to my parents for not naming me Basilea.)

These last four months have brought a tidal wave of awareness of and sorrow over my own sins. I thought it was a super holy act to ask the Lord to reveal my sins...

Turns out He had been waiting a long time for me to ask.

Mother Schlink says, "No one is able to change his own hard heart into one that is soft and broken, able to weep over its own sins. This must be accomplished in us by a work of grace which is a gift of God."

And, weep I did and do! The weight of my own grief over my sinfulness that brought so much harm to my family felt like it would cripple me. It was like an elephant had sat on my chest pointing a fat finger at me. Look at what I have done! No wonder our life went so far awry. I wouldn't want to have lived with me during the last few years. I feel sorry for my husband and kids who had put up with my grief, fear, control, panic, suspicion, depression, migraines, sleeplessness, anxiety, and on and on. I didn't even want to be around myself!

I began repenting. Big things, little things, writing them out, talking with godly mentors and friends, going back and sifting through the wreckage of my marriage and family, owning my messiness, really digging deep into sorrow for the ways in which I had hurt or offended God and others and making amends where possible.

And, you know what? It felt great! Freedom! Joy! A conscience being cleared! Repentance rocks!

But, after a while, in my ultra-holy quest for Christlikeness, contrition, forgiveness and restoration, two little truths started sneaking up on me like a ninja.

I am FULL of Pharisaical pride.

And sometimes I don't care about my sinfulness one iota.

You don't have much to repent about (at least nothing really sinful in comparison to - ahem - others) when you are already pretty awesomely godly. Plus, sometimes my sin is justified! Sometimes I don't give a hoot that I hurt another person, or directly disobeyed Scripture, or sinned out loud and proud and on purpose.

Once I started repenting I began to realize the truth that I needed to repent of my unwillingness to truly, deeply repent!

Don't tell anybody else, but I'd been sitting up on my fabulous high horse looking down upon a certain somebody for not caring about his long, long, loooong list of sins (and I mean Big Ones) that I'd been keeping very close track of, and I thought, "Well, at least I feel sorry when I'm wrong and am willing to change. He, clearly, is not. So, obviously, that makes me better than him. Less wrong."

Ooooooh, ugly!

"Anna, you are a (prideful) hypocrite!

First take the plank out of your own eye,

and then you will see clearly to remove

the speck from your brother's eye."

Matthew 7.5

Darn that little ninja of truth! I don't see my own sin. I conveniently ignore it, justify it, am apathetic about it, feel entitled to it, make excuses, and push back on anyone who suggests that just maybe I'm a teensy bit in error. Ever so slightly. Possibly. Might want to put that in the hopper and give it a shake.

"Whoever conceals their sins does not prosper,

but the one who confesses and renounces them finds mercy."

Proverbs 28.13

Even when I do see my sin, I still don't always feel sorry. I cultivate callousness of heart on purpose. Why? Pride.

Pride stomps out repentance. If:
a. I don't even recognize my sinfulness and

b. I'm right and feel justified, or "less" sinful than the next guy
then I am perfectly shielded from ever having to listen to another person's complaints about me, or change, or humble myself, or choose another person over myself.

Mother Schlink says, "Because of our human predisposition, we are apathetic and indifferent towards our sins, much of the time being unaware of them. We weep easily over the difficulties of our lives, over things that have been done to us: our sorrows, griefs, and disappointments. But because it is not natural to our human nature, few of us come to the place of real contrition and repentance. The heart of man has a way of thinking it is always in the right and sees no reason to weep over its own sins. Our human nature is self-righteous and impenitent. We want to blame others rather than ourselves. We even blame God."

Ahhh, yes, blame and self-righteous excuses. Sadly, I am troublesomely acquainted with that nasty duo.

"That person behaved FAR worse than I did, which practically undoes the harm of my actions. Their stuff made my stuff seem puny in comparison. Itty bitty."

"Actually, the problem is, you see, that that person (probably because they're a big, fat sinner) simply doesn't understand! AND probably refuses to understand on purpose (See?! Big, fat sinner.). Besides, it was a misunderstanding! Good grief, it's nothing I'd have to actually repent over or make amends for! Pffff!.. They're over-sensitive anyway..."

The bigger deal I can make over their behavior (misdirection, blaming, and excuses), the less I have to wrestle with and repent over my own. But, Jesus declared war on all excuses.

"Whenever I realize I have to apologize,

I suddenly get strong, flu-like symptoms."

~ Patsy Clairmont

So how does God bring us to that willingness of heart, the actual desire to figure out what we've done wrong or are doing wrong?

Suffering.

Distress. Pain. Loss. Trials. War. Decimated relationships.

"Self-righteousness makes us so blind and deaf that we no longer recognize God's voice speaking to us through... distress. We do not recognize that these judgments are His wooing of us."

In His grace He allows suffering to pound out the hardness and create in us a contrite heart. Over and over. He disciplines us, sometimes severely (like all good daddies do), so that we are humbled and learn to obey. So that we repent. No matter what anyone else has done. We're not going to stand before the Throne with anybody else to shift the unrepented blame upon. Our stuff is ours. Mine sin is mine.

Repentance is the only way to be free. Free to rejoice in being forgiven! At least by God. Hopefully, those I've sinned against will be willing to hear my sorrow and repentance this side of Heaven.

And, that contrition isn't a once-a-year deal. We are actually invited to weep over our sins as a daily pattern. That's an uphill battle against pride, selfishness, excuses, and anything else that gets in the way. Heck, let's be real, it's an up-Everest battle! But, HE is with us in the journey of repentance, living the lifestyle of contrition.

"When I daily ask: 'Lord, give me the grace of repentance, give me a broken heart, enlighten my eyes that I may see the beam in them and realize my own sin against God and men,' He will hear me. He will open my eyes so I can see the depth of my sins, the pain I have caused in others rather than what they have done to me. I will then see things in the light of God's truth rather than in the darkness of the enemy who puts the sins of others before me like a huge screen which blinds my eyes and blocks me from seeing my own sins."

Oh my. Stop focusing on what someone else has done to me because that's one of the Enemy's chief tactics to stop spiritual growth in it's tracks and focus on what I have done to others and to God. My heart is crushed at my excuse-making, my hardness, my raging and grieving at the horrible wrongs done to me with very little deep and penetrating sorrow at the ways I have repeatedly hurt my precious Jesus and those around me.

I am a sinner.
I am a wretched sinner.
No comparison to any other on the planet.
Just me and my pile of you-know-what to give with great grief over to the God who loves me enough to cover it with the blood of Jesus washing me white as snow.

Amazing.

So, here I am. Beginning again... And determining to be a person who lives in a continual state of repentance. Daily choosing not to compare myself with others in order to somehow contrive a weak excuse for my own sin. Daily bringing my heart before God asking for the truth, the dirty truth about my blind, angry, wounded, impenitent, Pharisaical self. Seeking to unburden myself from that elephant and find the daily JOY of His sweet and free forgiveness.

You can call me Basilea if you want. The name is growing on me.

Repentance rocks.

Good & Mad

2012-10-24T21:35:00.001-07:00

My favorite beach and I broke up months ago.

It is a stunning beach. Rocky cliffs, coves, tidepools, long stretches of sand where you can walk almost uninterrupted except by pelicans, gulls, and sea lions.

My family used to play there. We boogie boarded, built sand castles, and played until the cooler of sandwiches, snacks, and drinks was empty, our noses were full of salt water, and our skin sun-kissed. I used to walk there regularly, have my quiet time, talk with God. If a week went by without my feet hitting the sand, my heart would start to ache and beg.

Especially when it was socked in with drizzly fog. I firmly believe that God lives at the beach. And when He rolls that big blanket of fog in, you're on holy ground. Many, many times the Lord and I have had what felt almost like face-to-face interactions on that foggy beach. Times when He drew me close and spoke directly to my heart. Those have been life-changing moments.

But, in these last months, I just couldn't bring myself to go. Too many awful conversations with my estranged husband happened there. Too many times that should and could have been lovely but that turned sour and stomach-twisting. Too many awful conclusions. Too many bad & sad memories have been attached to my absolute favorite place in the world. Even driving down the coast became painful.

But, slowly we've been making up. (Me and the beach, that is.) The first time I parked on the cliff and walked through the scrub brush to the sand I turned right around and hightailed it to Starbucks for a latte and to sit and stew at the thought of my beach for an hour as if it were it's fault. After that it wasn't so hard. I took the kids down for an afternoon and built a sand castle and searched for hermit crabs. A couple times I've gone there and just sat and let the sound of the waves, the briny smell, and the wind remind me of it's former comfort.

Last week, though, the kids and I saw the sunny and gorgeous weather and decided "School schmool" and ditched our reader books & math pages for the beach. Once we got all settled, I watched it coming at us... No, no, no, no, no!

The fog rolled in...

To be honest, I almost bolted. Even though I knew that God was calling me to come close in that old, familiar way, in our old, familiar place.

Finally, I got up and walked for a while. And then began to pray out loud and sing praise to Him. Safe stuff, you know? Thank You for this, concerned about that, help so-and-so with this and that. But, I felt the Lord pushing me back. Kind of egging me on. "Bring it, Anna! Remember, I can take it!" and that brought with it a flood of frustrated tears.

I told God I was mad.

Really, really, really mad.

So the kids wouldn't be alarmed and so that the roar of the waves would cover our conversation, I walked 75 yards down the shore and let God have it. Hot tears, erupted anger, and me yelling at the Creator of the Universe until I was hoarse.

I am sooooo angry that my marriage is over! I am so angry that You didn't answer my prayers! I am so angry that I've trusted You, and loved You, and leaned into You, and still You allowed this devastation to happen! It's NOT FAIR! Why?! Why didn't You protect us? Why have You turned Your back on me? Why have You left us unprovided for? Why have you allowed me to be left unloved, blamed, and abandoned? WHY?! I am so angry that this is my children's story! I am so angry that this is MY story! I am angry that there is nothing I can do to change it! I am angry that You haven't showed up and changed it! You are BIGGER, God! You are omnipotent! So, WHY?! I'm angry about the lies! I'm angry about the games! I'm angry about the abuse! I'm angry about the chaos and heartbreak! I'm angry that I tried for so, so, so long and it led to this! I'm angry that so many years were wasted! I'm angry that for years my heart has been so wrapped up in the turmoil that I've been zero use for anything else! I'm angry at myself! I'm angry at him! I'm angry at YOU! I'm so angry that I'll never have a 50th anniversary! Or even a 25th! I'm angry that I'm forever alone! I'm angry just thinking about holidays spent alone, birthdays alone, life spent alone! Most of my marriage I felt alone and now I'm looking at a future alone! WHY?! And on and on I went for more than two hours. Yikes.

The kids, praises be, played happily unaware of the throw down. That alone was a major God thing.

"In your anger do not sin;
Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry,
and do not give the devil a foothold."

~Eph4.26-27

What does that mean? Can we not be angry? At sin? At injustice? At this broken, fallen world? We Christians sometimes operate as if being angry is the worst thing that we could be. We get so twisted around being safe and polite in our prayers. We put distance between us and the Lord with our false "reverence" that may actually just be a defense of our personal space. But, open up the Psalms to see what King David's intimate relationship with the King of Kings was like, in times of peace and calm and in the midst of horrific, desperate, and scary circumstances. He didn't mince words. David praised and he plead. He raised his hands and he raised his voice. He bowed low in reverence and he begged for vindication. Fake smiles and tepid prayers aren't the way to have intimacy with God.

Anger isn't sin. Jesus got angry. Does that verse mean that we're supposed to work out any upset feelings in a race with the sunset? No. It means that we bring the entire, raw truth of how we feel before God and trust Him to receive it with grace, forgiveness, understanding, compassion, and the sweetest comfort known to man. It means that we don't let the Enemy turn our anger into our idol -- the only thing we focus on. Our anger put in His hands isn't sin. If we hang on to it and carefully tend to it day in and day out, letting it grow and darken, and plot revenge and wish a plague of boils on the person who intentionally hurt or angered us, we clearly need to let that verse penetrate into our souls, repent, and clean out our hearts before God. (Been there. Done that!)

After my more than two hour rampage, I finally yelled, "Holy Spirit, WHAT do You have to say about this?!? WHAT?! What's Your response?"

And, I looked around and waited. Not a lightning bolt in sight.

You know what settled down around me?

Empathy. Tears. Embrace. Nearness. Comfort. A deeper intimacy.

"Yes, Beloved... I know, sweet baby... I hear you...
I'm angrier about this than you are!"

WOW!

"In my distress I called to the Lord;
I cried to my God for help
From His temple He heard my voice;
My cry came before Him, into His ears.
The earth trembled and quaked and the foundations of the mountains shook;
They trembled because
He was angry.
Smoke rose from His nostrils;
Consuming fire came from His mouth,
Burning coals blazed out of it.
He parted the heavens and came down;
Dark clouds were under His feet.
He mounted the cherubim and flew,
He soared on the wings of the wind.
He made darkness His covering,
His canopy around Him -- the dark rain clouds of the sky.
Out of the brightness of His presence clouds advanced with hailstones and bolts of lightning.
The Lord thundered from Heaven;
The voice of the Most High resounded."
~Ps18.6-

And THAT brought me to my knees with overwhelming love for this astounding God who loves His kids so dearly that He is far angrier about injustice and sin that we could ever be. He is for us. He is with us. He loves me and He loves you.

"And we are His portion and He is our prize
Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes
If grace is an ocean, we're all sinking
So Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss
And my heart turns violently inside of my chest
I don't have time to maintain these regrets
When I think about the way...
He loves us.
Oh, how He loves us."
~David Crowder Band

So, as of now, I've made up with my beach and am welcoming all future fog. Holy ground.

Bring it.