Fear and Fireworks.

I continue to be amazed at the power of fear.  As each day passes, I see the grip fear has on myself and others.  I see opportunities lost and needless worry.  I see the struggle.

I see fear as a foe that needs to be defeated.  I see fear as a wall to climb and an obstacle to conquer.  I see the need for Christ to be the one pushing us over that fence when we don't have an ounce of strength left.  He is the one that gives us the strength to try one more time when we have been rejected over and over again. 

I see fear freezing us in time.  Our bodies may age and silver hair mistakenly give us the look of wisdom, but fear may have robbed us of ever knowing what it is to truly live.  Fear may have held our hands keeping us from moving on when we thought we couldn't brave the storm ahead.  It may have told us it would take care of us when the road block was beyond our strength to move.  It told us to stay right where we are...where it is safe.  What a lie!  We are actually paralyzing ourselves.  We are choosing to be rocks when we should be streams of living water.  We are choosing not to see the miracle that happens when God makes water flow from what has never moved.  He creates life where there was none if we would just trust him and take the chance.

Of course, choosing to take the leap is probably the most difficult part of the process.   With risk comes the chance of failure.  There is the chance that we might get hurt, but can we not trust God to catch us if we fall and tend to our wounds should we stumble?

Change, when it is wrought from the mind of God, is amazing and spectacular.  It is like fireworks bursting in the sky.  They would never light up the night sky had someone not decided to light them, though.  I am praying today for myself and those I love not to believe the enemy, fear.  I am praying that we can brave through the lumps in our throats and weight on our chests to move forward believing God will propel us and give us supernatural strength.  This is my heartfelt prayer today.  I am praying for fireworks.

Marrying Your Prince

I grew up, like most little girls, dreaming of getting married to my prince and living happily ever after.  I guess I never really thought it would happen, though.  I assumed I would take care of myself.  I thought that if I got married, I would be older and established in a career.

God thought otherwise.  I never dreamed that he would bless me with what I know to be the only man that is absolutely perfect for me.  Where did that come from?  I didn't orchestrate it.  I didn't settle for a guy, because it was easy or convenient.  No, this man came into my life and changed me forever, and he continues to every day.  When it's right, that certainly doesn't mean it's easy.  Just think about it from satan's point of view.  If he knew that God wanted two people together, don't you think he would do all that he could to keep them apart?  Don't you think he would take every measure he could to poke them where they are the weakest?  I certainly know that he has thrown his arsenal at us.  Wouldn't it stand to reason that if satan did not care if two people ended up together realizing they weren't meant to be, he wouldn't cause any friction.  He loves mediocrity.  I think if the relationship is just so "perfect" and you never argue or disagree...something must be terribly wrong underneath the surface.

I know that I am so blessed.  I am so very blessed that I didn't make a stupid decision when I was younger and end up a lonely married woman.  I had always prayed for the miracle of him and our marriage, but I guess I never expected God to love me so much that he would gift me with it.  It is something words cannot describe, the bond we share.  Besides Christ's sacrifice for me, it is the greatest gift I have ever known.  We didn't get married because we didn't want to break up.  We got married, because if we didn't, we would be disobeying God.

It's amazing to look back on how far we have come.  I think of all of the ways the enemy has tried to destroy us.  I think of how close we have been to being destroyed, and how God swoops in to save us like an eagle out of nowhere.  We have both changed.  The melding of two people into one is not an easy process.  I am hopeful for a future that is bright.  We have built a foundation that is strong-built out of blood, sweat and tears with God as the force that holds it together.  I am proud of that foundation, and all that will be built upon it.  I am looking forward to the rest of this fairy tale.

The Healer of Souls

People say that time heals all wounds.  I don't think it's time that does the healing, though.  Time is necessary in order for God to do the healing, but a wound can be just as open and tender today as it was the day of the injury.  Time is merely an instrument God uses to ease the pain. 

I was thinking about a wound I have had for many years and realized how the canyon of pain that it once was has narrowed to a sliver.  I realized that now there are few things that fall down into that wound to irritate it when once it seemed that not a moment went by when something would prick or poke the tender, sensitive area.  What a blessing to see how God heals.  Time alone did not do this.  It was the struggle during that time that brought healing.  It was the shedding of many tears, frustration, annoyance, and laying prostrate when no words would convey the pain felt. 

I think God uses time so that we can properly heal.  We want the pain to go away immediately.  We don't want to deal with what caused it and why.  We just don't want to feel bad.  He doesn't want us to feel bad either, but he knows that the process of healing brings us closer to him.  He knows that through it all, we will become better people.  We will see his face a little bit more clearly. 

Avoiding the pain, running away from it or trying to hide merely prolong the process and make the wound stay open longer, prone to infection and enlargement.  Hurriedly filling the chasm and trying to fix it with man-made means, will have the same effect.  We are left with the real answer to our problem of pain...have faith that God will walk with us through it and heal in miraculous ways.  We do not have the answers.  We do not have the medicine he does.  We are not the doctor.  We have faith in men and women to heal our physical bodies.  Why is it so difficult to have faith in the One that heals our souls?

The process of healing certainly isn't easy or quick, but it is beautiful.  We marvel at chasms and canyons created by great tumult.  They are a picture of the care God is taking to heal the chasms of our hearts.  Where we are right now in the journey is as magnificant as these majestic rocks.  Never give up hope.

Is it Groundhog Day Again?

Do you ever wake up and wonder if you are reliving yesterday?  We have our routines.  There are things we tend to always do.  Letting the dog out, making coffee, having a conversation with the cashier at Wal-Mart, typing a report, going to a meeting, listening to music, making dinner, watching television, folding laundry...are any of these things really important?  Are they life changing?  Has the completion of these things altered the course of history?

On the surface, most of us would say no.  These all seem like non-consequential tasks.  Even stringing them altogether doesn't make them any grander or nobler.  They are the ordinary that life is made of. 

What if we found a way to make these everyday, mundane experiences extraordinary?  What if we were able to appreciate fully the opportunities they provide?  God blessed us with the dog that woke us up when we were about to be late and the coffee that we enjoy so much every morning.  He specifically placed us in a situation with a stranger so that we will be blessed.  He gave us a job that he wants us to have right now in order to accomplish his purposes.  He blessed us with an abundance of food to eat and clothes to wear.  He created entertainment for us to enjoy.  These are blessings to be enjoyed and savoured.  If we could see these seemingly boring moments of life as gifts, maybe we would all be happier people.

An Easter Story

As the Easter eggs are painted, glittered and stickered, I wonder why we do so much with eggs this time of year.  I did a little research.  Many believe that eggs became so important, because they were not allowed during Lent.  Once Lent was over, people celebrated by breaking out the eggs.  For centuries, they symbolized life, and the promise of resurrection...there is more.  What has not been born, will be one day.  What is not seen, will be seen. It is a promise.

I wonder, if I were an egg, what would be inside?  What more is there to me?  We paint what's on the outside.  We clothe it and dress it up putting stickers on it to identify what we like, where we live, our occupations and other information we want people to know and admire.  These are our conversation starters and sadly, sometimes we never get past talking about these things.  What about the inside?  Are we readying the inside?

When Christ returns and/or I meet him face to face for the first time, I want what he sees when he cracks that egg, not to be some undeveloped goop.  I want to also see what all of this work has created.  I want to see it for myself in the end.  I want to stand there with Christ and marvel at what we have done together with his gift of my life.  That is why I keep working every day to nourish and protect his creation, because inside there is a miracle in progress.

A Picture of Living Hope

       So we fix our eyes not on what is seen,                    

                                    but on what is unseen. 



For what is seen is temporary,

                   but what is unseen is eternal.                 

                                                       II Corinthians 4:18

 

Holding Back the Pain

Sometimes, no matter how hard we try to ignore it or press it down further, the sludge erupts with the force of a geyser.  There it is, bubbling up like a dark brown fountain.  It's ugly and unexpected, but strangely a sight of relief.

I am talking about times when deep pain and hurt finally press it's way upward to be exposed.  Maybe we didn't know how to process it when whatever happened that caused the emotional ball of pent up sadness, fear and anger.  Maybe we kept avoiding it.  Maybe we were intensely aware of it, but kept pressing it down trying to keep others from seeing what we are doing.

When it does burst out into the light, it seems it can be embarrassing.  Yes, we often believe it will be embarrassing to admit that we didn't handle things very well in the past, that we are human, that something mucked up the plumbing for so long, and we tried to hide it.  We are embarrassed that we couldn't handle it.  What should we be embarrassed about, though?  I think satan appeals to our sense of pride so that we won't heal sooner, and so that we will try to continue to swallow something that was never meant to stay inside of us.

This reminds me of a funny yet pretty disgusting story.  When I was in college, my best friend and I decided to visit Chicago.  We took my old car on our little adventure halfway across the country. 

On our way back, I started feeling awful.  Later, we realized we had caught a nasty bug from the family we stayed with.  By the time we had crossed Ohio back towards Virginia, I was sweating profusely, but I had to keep driving since my friend was from out of the country and had never gotten a license.  We had to stop continuously so I could vomit on the side of the road if there were no bathrooms close by. 

My friend, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine.  She even got chili cheese fries and an orange from Sheetz on one of my mandatory stops as we got closer to the place we were staying for the night.  I seethed at her in disbelief as she peeled that orange.  My need to hurl grew with every peeling that came off.

I just kept driving, though.  I had to find a bed.  I had to lay down.  About thirty minutes before we arrived, she said she felt nauseous.  By this time, I still felt nauseous but most of my bodily fluids had left one way or another.  We got to the home we were staying at and crashed.  I finally fell asleep.  A few hours later, I woke up to my friend asking me to help her in a voice of dire desperation.  I didn't know what to do...I was starting to gag hearing her starting to gag.  She ended up painting a nice white carpet the color of chili cheese fries while I ran into the kitchen to dispel the remains of my stomach which was mostly water.

For hours, my friend had been holding in what all came out at once.  She thought it would go away.  It certainly didn't.  It kept coming back stronger and stronger until finally, she couldn't control it any longer.  If we swallow the hurt, it's going to grow and make a mess of things, but if we learn to recognize when it is there and dispel it in the right places to the right people, it can't grow into a monster that will embarrass us when it unexpectedly comes out.  I learned from that trip the importance of just letting it out!