Something wonderful...

I saw something wonderful today... God did many things wonderful today.

First, I was able to handle my oldest son without yelling or saying things I shouldn't. God just settled on me and gave me a calm voice and a quiet spirit. You have no idea how much I've struggled with this over the last few months.

Then, as I pulled up to church, I saw a car that I never expected to see at church again. A friend, who swore she'd never return to our church because she was held accountable for her choices, had come to church. That's a miracle - a huge one. God's starting something amazing in her.

And He's done some amazing things in our church body too. We're really starting to get - and live out - what sharing God's love really means. The same young woman try to leave the service quietly and sneak out so people couldn't talk to her. Instead of allowing it, two older women who have been known to be gossips in the past, stopped her and gave her a hug. One of them ran after her, told her she loved her and held her as she cried. Another miracle.

Would I have liked to be one of those huggers? Yes. But maybe it was better for her to receive that love from a source she wouldn't normally expect.

And God.

God's doing some pretty amazing things in me too. I don't know how, yet, to put all the words on it, but my life is changing. I love what God's doing. I even love the hard things He's allowed in my life.... in the past 9 months, in the past year, in the past two years, in the past decade plus. Lots of little trees make a big forest. I'm finally starting to see it.

Teachable moments...

Don't you just love it, as a parent, when you are intending to teach your child something and it ends up being one of God's 2x4s for YOU instead of them?

Ok, maybe "love" is too strong a word.
Way too strong.
Humbling is more like it.

My oldest son and I have being going rounds multiple times daily for the last few weeks. He has reached to new levels of disrespect and defiance. He's so angry.

This time last week, he was screaming at me because I asked him to do his chores (extra chores he "earned" by making a VERY bad choice earlier in the summer). I sent him to his room, where he proceeded to scream and yell at me about being in his room. And he punched his brother in the face because he was mad at me. :::sigh:::

He then started telling me that it was my fault he was acting this way because I'm always making him mad. Let me tell you, I've had enough of people telling me their behavior is my fault. I sent the other kids outside, said some things I really wish I hadn't and then I pulled out my deadly-quiet voice.

I asked him, "What do you suppose God thinks about how you're behaving right now?" He said he didn't know in his I-don't-care voice. Oooooh that voice makes me mad.

I started quoting verses.
You know, like "Honor thy father and mother"
"Be kind, one to another."
He was sneering, but quiet, until I got to,
"Love your neighbor as yourself."

Full swing attitude came in.
"How can I love my neighbor if you won't let me go outside and play? Who the heck is my neighbor anyway?"
Heh.

I think... yay! Teachable moment!

The answer's in your Bible child. "No it isn't!"
Oh yes, it is.

I told him to go get his Bible and open it up.
He yelled and screamed that he didn't want to, didn't have to, wasn't going to. Blah blah blah. He got his Bible.

I told him find the parable of the Good Samaritan.
He yelled and screamed that he already knows it, can't find it, I can't make him. Blah blah blah. He started looking and found it.

I told him to read it.
He yelled and screamed that it was a waste of time, it's boring, it's stupid. Blah blah blah. He read it.

I told him to get a notebook and a pen and write a summary of the parable.
He yelled and screamed that he didn't want to, didn't have to, wasn't going to. Blah blah blah. He started writing.

I told him to write down what he learned from the story and write down the answer to his question.
He yelled and screamed.... all of the above. Blah blah blah. Then silence.

He walked out of his room, head down, and handed me his notebook. I said, "Well?" He looked at his toes and mumbled, "Everyone's my neighbor." Exactly.

"And guess what? You're doing this again tomorrow." He opened his mouth to yell and scream... and said nothing. He went back to his room, laid down on his bed and played/read quietly the rest of the day.

Ah ha! I thought. The key to peace and quiet. I should have known.

so the next morning, all full of myself and my parenting pride, I found the "perfect passage" designed to hit home as hard as possible. I handed him his Bible and his notebook. He grumbled a little and started to say, "I'm not doing it -" I gave him a look, "unless you do it with me."

Oh.
But... but... I don't want to. I don't have to. You can't make me. Blah blah blah.
Oops.

That parenting pride thing? Umm... yeah. See, when I picked that passage, it was meant for HIM and his attitude. Not for me.

Yeah. Right.
So, we read the passage. And we've read something together every other day since.

God hit me upside the head with my pride... and His Word.
Not a bad thing.
But boy, it hurt.

Grit

Ever had a wound debrided? It's pretty excruciating. That's what my life feels like right now.
Which probably sounds like the same ol' same ol' from me.

Only it isn't.
The things I'm working through right now are pretty excruciating... but I am so grateful I'm finally allowing God to dig out all that grit that has dug in and infected every aspect of my life.

I'm crying a lot - because I'm letting out the grief and hurt that I tried to bury for so long.
I'm raging a lot - because I'm letting out the anger - and hurt - that has lodged itself in my heart.
And you know what? I'm laughing a lot too.

Sometimes it's the desperate laughter of the broken-hearted or the dark laughter of the half-mad. But it's laughter. And it's genuine, which may not seem like much, but for me it's HUGE.

Even when I'm really hurting, there's this I-don't-know-what bubbling up inside me. Even when I'm drained and emotionally exhausted, there's this core feeling that I'm ok. That I'll be ok. Or maybe someday, even better than ok.

Grit.

Abrasive and coarse.
Rough. Painful.
And... courageous.

There's another meaning for the word, and I think I'm choosing that one.
Firm character.
Indomitable spirit.
Courage.
Yup. I like that one.

Not today.

On days like today, in weeks like this week... :::sigh::

I don't know if I'm angry or sad or ashamed, or a bitter mix of the three that sits in my stomach like battery acid.

You know, painful and fatal.

I am sick to death of being disordered.

I'm hurting and I just want it all to go away.
I want to curl up and hide... in my head, in the real world... in both. Does it really matter?

I'm not supposed to retreat inside my head... but do you have any idea how hard it is to stay present in the moment when the moment is pretty close to awful? When the smallest thing triggers a cascade of junk and nothing in reality feels safe?

I'm doing everything I'm supposed to be doing right now, it just isn't working the way I want it to... I mean, it's working because I'm safe and I have no intention of doing anything stupid, but it isn't making the nasty stuff go away. I'm just maintaining. Hanging on. Waiting out the storm while getting cold, tired and downright battered.

I know God has a plan for this... I know there's a reason... but right now it isn't comforting. At all. I have all sorts of willful and petulant things I could say about that, but I'll hold my proverbial tongue. I know this will pass, and I'll come out better and stronger and all those wonderful things... and today is not a day I'm capable of finding meaning in the pain. Not today.

This is for those who wait ~
Lifeflight

Another day, another waiting game
A little different but it's still the same
I am here, but where's the one I'm longing for?
I'm having trouble feeling all alone
Will my heart ever find a home?
I want to hope but sometimes I just don't know
I know I'm not the only one

So we sing a lullaby to the lonely hearts tonight
Let it set your heart on fire, let it set you free
When you're fighting to believe
In a love that you can't see
Just know there is a purpose
For those who wait

I want to open up my eyes
I know that all I need is time
I'm growing stronger every single day
God, I'm going to lean into You now
Letting go of all my fear and doubt
I can't do this on my own so I'll give You control
I know I'm not the only one

The pressure makes us stronger
The struggle makes us hunger
The hard lessons make the difference
The pressure makes us stronger
The struggle makes us hunger
The hard lessons make the difference
And the difference makes it worth it

Assumptions

We all make them - based on experience, based on gut instinct, based on societal norms... "People who look a certain way/act a certain way/talk a certain way (or have looked/acted/talked) must be _____________."

Sometimes those assumptions are right (when they're based on God-given discernment) and sometimes they aren't. Sometimes those assumptions are helpful... and sometimes they hurt.

Be honest.

Perhaps...
*You've looked at a person covered in tattoos, wearing leather and chains and crossed to the other side of the road to avoid the "unsavory element."
*You've seen a child wearing dirty clothes in the grocery store and shook your head at the poor parents who can't keep their children clean.
*You've walked past a pregnant teenager and assumed she was promiscuous.
*You've run into one of the "druggies" from your high school and figured they're still getting high.
*You've watched the news about a local church-goer arrested for soliciting prostitution and your first thought is that he was never really a Christian.

Ok, maybe you haven't done all of those things, or any of those things... but somewhere, sometime, you've made a decision about a person based on what you thought was true rather than what was actually true.

People are so much more than how they dress, what language they speak, what they've done or where they've been. They are so much more than the minuscule glimpses we see of their lives that we use to make judgements about character, class and Christian faith.

Take the disciple Thomas for instance.
What word goes hand-in-hand with dear old Didymus?

That's right: DOUBT.

In John 20 we learn that Thomas wasn't with the rest of the disciples when Jesus appeared to them the first time. He doubts the others when they say they've seen the Lord (ok, who wouldn't? honestly?) and insists that he won't (can't?) believe until he's seen it for himself.

"Doubting Thomas" is born.

Only... we tend to forget that the disciples didn't believe the women when they told of the empty tomb (Peter and another disciple have to run to check it out). Mary Magdalene, despite hearing the angels' words, asks the gardener if he's taken Jesus - until He reveals Himself to her. The disciples on the road to Emmaeus were downcast because they thought Jesus' death meant He wasn't who He claimed to be, even though they knew the women were told Jesus was alive. And the disciples who were in hiding from the Jews thought He was a ghost even though he was right there in the room - they had to touch Him to believe.

But Thomas gets the bad rap.

Even though he had the same doubts as everyone else - the same doubts you or I would have in his place. Even though he didn't ask for anything more than anyone else.

"Then Jesus told him, 'Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.' " John 20:29

How sad. He has to see to believe... Didymus was such a doubter.

Assumptions.

Thomas was a man of questions (read John 14) and a man of doubts... but he was also a man of loyalty. He was willing to die for Jesus before Jesus died for him.

John 11:1-16
1Now a man named Lazarus was sick. He was from Bethany, the village of Mary and her sister Martha. 2This Mary, whose brother Lazarus now lay sick, was the same one who poured perfume on the Lord and wiped his feet with her hair. 3 So the sisters sent word to Jesus, "Lord, the one you love is sick."
4When he heard this, Jesus said, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it." 5Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus. 6Yet when he heard that Lazarus was sick, he stayed where he was two more days.
7Then he said to his disciples, "Let us go back to Judea."
8"But Rabbi," they said, "a short while ago the Jews tried to stone you, and yet you are going back there?"
9Jesus answered, "Are there not twelve hours of daylight? A man who walks by day will not stumble, for he sees by this world's light. 10It is when he walks by night that he stumbles, for he has no light."
11After he had said this, he went on to tell them, "Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep; but I am going there to wake him up."
12His disciples replied, "Lord, if he sleeps, he will get better." 13Jesus had been speaking of his death, but his disciples thought he meant natural sleep.
14So then he told them plainly, "Lazarus is dead, 15and for your sake I am glad I was not there, so that you may believe. But let us go to him."
16Then Thomas (called Didymus) said to the rest of the disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die with him." (emphasis mine).

Now, we could look at John 11 through doubt-colored glasses and assume that Thomas was just being fatalistic. But the passage hints at the possibility that the other disciples really didn't want to go with Jesus... and possibly weren't intending to. "And yet you are going back there?" vs. 8. The other disciples never mentioned a "we" or an "us." Thomas did.

He had doubts. That doesn't mean "Doubting Thomas" is who he was, even though that's how we remember him. His doubts do not - and did not - define him. He didn't let them.

Whatever assumptions we might make about Thomas are wrong.

Historically, Thomas is credited with over 17,000 converts during his ministry and is believed to be the farthest ranging disciple - accounts have him bringing the Gospel to Parthia (Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan) and India.

He could have wallowed in guilt over doubting Jesus. He could have sat and thought, "I doubted Jesus, who am I to preach the Good News? Who am I to ask people to believe without seeing?" He could have.

He didn't.

He defied our assumptions - and perhaps ignored his own.
His Jesus was (and is!) bigger than his doubts.
He's bigger than ours too.
And our assumptions.

2000 Years - Travis Cottrell

(scroll to the last song in my music player to hear it)

If I could see 2000 years ago,

travel back in time and walk in the day

when just one man turned this world upside down

If I could be a guest at the wedding, and

taste the wine that was water moments before

Would I realize what was really in store?

That there would be so much more?

[CHORUS]

Would I fall down and worship?

Leave all that I treasured behind?

For a chance to be closer

To the Man who might

Be the One who saves my life?

If I hear His voice call to Lazarus,

stand and stare as my friend stumbles out of the tomb.

Witness blind men see their first morning sky...

Would I believe what He says to be true

if I was there the night soldiers took Him away?

Would I flee the scene like most of His friends?

Then watch on the cross what I thought was the end?

What would I do then?

[CHORUS]

And what would it be like

After three days gone by

Would I believe what they said

Or wanna see with my own eyes

Put my hand on the scars

Only then realize

My Lord, my God, alive!

Will I fall down and worship?

Leave all that I treasure behind?

For a chance to be closer?

'Cause He is still alive

and the One who saves my life!

Native Wisdom

For those who don't know, I work at a psychiatric residential treatment center for Native American teens. We combine Native tradition and modern evidence-based practice to provide an environment that supports healing, growth and recovery.

When I started working for this program, I had all sorts of notions that I would come in and use my Special Ed. training to teach awesome groups and my parenting experience to whip these kids into shape.

So I might have been a bit arrogant.

Don't get me wrong. I'm very good at my job. That isn't arrogance. I do my job and I do it well because I don't have the capacity to do it any other way. These kids matter and slacking on this job means I would be taking something valuable away from kids who have already had so much taken from them. I can't do it. It just isn't in me.

Anyway. Arrogance.

Somewhere along the way, these precious and precocious children have showed me that I have more to learn than I have to teach - not just about trauma-informed care, but also about Native tradition... and even about my own faith.

Much of Native tradition isn't Christian, although there are also many Natives who believe that Jesus Christ is the answer to the questions the Creator raised among his people centuries ago. I've had to be very discerning about what I take in as true wisdom and what I respect as another person's faith.

That isn't a bad thing.

One of the most amazing experiences I have had as staff here has been the sweat ceremony. The symbology of a traditional sweat is incredibly powerful. *I don't presume to be an expert on Native ceremony, but I'd like to share my understanding and those parts of the tradition that have resonated with my faith.*

You enter the lodge on your knees. Because the sweat is a purification ritual, there is no room for pride. You come to sweat to pray to the Creator who is greater than you. Humility is the only appropriate attitude for supplication. There is also a recognition that humility requires courage. The truly brave are those who can humble themselves.

Deeply ingrained in the ceremony is the battle to overcome fear - of darkness, of suffering, of the unknown... and most importantly the battle to overcome our fear of ourselves. The Creator will give you the strength to endure if you ask Him for it.

There are traditionally four "rounds" to the ceremony - four stages of prayer. Each stage gets progressively hotter (interestingly enough, the rocks are always introduced in multiples of 7... I'm not sure why). Similar to fasting, the physical discomfort of the body is offered to the Creator to shift your focus from physical things to spiritual things. The Creator has sacrificed for each of us, it is only fitting that we sacrifice our comfort to Him.

*In the ceremonies that I have participated in, the first round is devoted to asking the Creator to be present among the people - it is an invitation to the Great Spirit to fill each person and make them aware of His presence.
*The second round is a call to sacrifice and courage - it is also a time to focus on forgiveness and the sacrifice of self that is required to both forgive others and ask for forgiveness.
*The third round is a specific prayer lifted up to the Creator - it is an individual prayer based on each person's greatest need.
*The fourth round focuses on healing and renewal - it is also a commitment to do the work the Creator may ask of you to answer your prayer.

When you leave the sweat lodge - again on your knees - it is a rebirth. People are usually quiet and contemplative as they each have a personal celebration of this new life they're entering.

These are parts of the ceremony in which I have found a kernel of Truth. Despite those things that run contrary to my beliefs, I have had some pretty profound encounters with my God in the darkness and heat of the sweat lodge. I was able focus more deeply on prayer when I was able to shut the world out and concentrate solely on the moment. Powerful.

Native tradition, I believe, has a lot to teach modern Christians about living a life of prayer. Every day the clients read an Elder's meditation in our gathering. Today's had particular meaning for me.

"Each day, whatever I am doing, I am always praying and thinking of God."
--Thomas Yellowtail, CROW

Have you ever tried going through your day carrying on a conversation with the Creator? Many of our Elders live in prayer. They talk to the Creator like the Creator is their best friend. It is easiest to do this if we pray in the morning and ask the Great Spirit to direct our thinking. When the Creator is involved in guiding our lives, we will have less stress, anxiety, and tension. Maybe this is something we would like to try today. "Oh, Creator, look at the Sun, how beautiful you have made it. Oh, look at this child, isn't she just beautiful! Well, Creator, I'm not sure how I should do this task, what do you think? This person is starting to irritate me; I need your help to redirect my thinking. Thanks for returning me to a peaceful mind." Remember, the Creator also has a sense of humor.

Grandfather, let me walk in prayer.

Father, please let me walk in prayer.

On fences

What are fences for, exactly?
They keep things in - and keep things out. They mark boundaries - this is mine and that is yours. They offer protection. Safety... and security.

There are fences all over; boundaries we define for the well-being of ourselves and society. Some in the physical sense and others as guidelines for behavior. We also build emotional fences.

To keep things in - and keep people out. To mark boundaries - me here, you there. To offer protection. Safety.


Security.
Much of the time, those fences are good for us. It's important to know your limits and to guard your heart. It's important to judge wisely what (and who) we give a place in our lives.

I've written before about trust - and my lack thereof. I've written that people aren't safe. In many ways, that's true. By the very nature of human relationships, the people we allow into our lives have been given the power to hurt us.

It happens.
Hurt is a part of life; and it's a part of love.

Sometimes people hurt us deliberately and bulldoze over our fences - for power, for satisfaction, for control... or maybe because they've been hurt and all they know is to lash out at someone else. Most of the time - in healthy relationships - people hurt us accidentally.

They don't mean to, it just happens.
Part of life. Part of love.

Sometimes the fences we build are bad - when we use them to hide from the world.

In my life I've built a lot of fences. There's nothing scarier to me than people who know too much. At times - though very rarely - I've expanded my boundaries - or maybe just opened the gate - to make room for people. It has always been a hard, hard blow when things don't turn out the way I want them to, and it seems like the more room I've made for them, the worse the response. I rarely react in a way that is healthy or wise.

Usually, I build my fences smaller and smaller, shutting out everyone. Usually, I even shut out God. I tell myself, "letting people in is stupid. Letting God in is stupid." It certainly feels that way, even though sometimes (like with God), it isn't.

Let's go back to security again - after a tangent or two.

I'm considering another tattoo. I know, I know... many people don't approve of them and I understand their reasoning. However, those tattoos I choose to get aren't frivolous or done on a whim. They're carefully thought out and have a deep meaning. They represent something I want, or perhaps need permanent reminders for.

This time I'm looking at a tattoo that represents love - and NOT a heart. Heaven help me. I hate cliche.

There are two reasons for wanting a symbol of love:
First, there is an organization called, To Write Love on Her Arms. You can read their story on their website, but their main purpose is to raise awareness and provide support for those struggling with self-harm and suicide. These issues hit home. And I want to write love on my arm.
Second, in keeping with the theme of my most recent tat, I've chosen the Adinkra symbol for love, because it is also a symbol for security:

EBAN - which
literally means fence. (Weird, huh? Fence = love? Interesting).
It is the symbol of love, safety and security
"The home to the Akan is a special place. A home which has a fence around it is considered to be an ideal residence. The fence symbolically separates and secures the family from the outside. Because of the security and the protection that a fence affords, the symbol is also associated with the security and safety one finds in love. "
-- from The Adinkra Dictionary

Interesting indeed.

Psalm 46(NKJV):
1 God is our refuge and strength,
A very present help in trouble.
2 Therefore we will not fear,
Even though the earth be removed,
And though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea;
10 Be still, and know that I am God;
I will be exalted among the nations,
I will be exalted in the earth!

Many have said that the Scriptures are a love story - between God and His people. They show how high and how deep is His love for us (Ephesians 3:18), and the lengths He will go to prove that love.

You know, like sending His Son to die on a cross.

Scriptures also show that His great love for us allows us to rest securely. Love and security. They go hand-in-hand, don't they? God's love builds a fence around us - a hedge of protection that keeps us safe - from the powers of this world and from ourselves.

Thankfully, unlike our own fences, God's boundaries are perfect. He provides guidelines to keep on the path He's set out for us. He knows us so well and so deeply that He knows exactly what we need to stay safe. Even when it doesn't feel safe. Even when He doesn't feel safe.

Because sometimes He doesn't. Maybe because He knows too much. And gets inside our fences and into the darkest places in us.

Psalm 139:
1 O LORD, You have searched me and known me.
2 You know my sitting down and my rising up;
You understand my thought afar off.
3 You comprehend my path and my lying down,
and are acquainted with all my ways.
4 For there is not a word on my tongue,
But behold, O LORD, You know it altogether.
5 You have hedged me behind and before,
And laid Your hand upon me.

We need fences... and we need some fences to be torn down.
Lord, give me the wisdom to know where to build my fences. Amen.