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.

My Label Maker

I have this nifty little lable maker, complete with QWERTY keyboard that prints out the neatest, crispest labels EVER. When I'm in an organizing mood (which, admittedly, is rare), I drag that thing out and print off label after label. We have a similar one at work and when I have a spare moment or need a distraction I start printing labels. Just one of my things.

Labels give things meaning and purpose. Labels give things identity and belonging.

They make a random drawer into a drawer that holds "Markers," and they turn cabinets into storehouses for spices, canned goods, first aid supplies, etc. They tell someone "This book belongs to..."

Labels make things valuable - or not so much.

Just look at clothing. A tiny little "DKNY" makes a plain black t-shirt worth a great deal more than a tiny little "Faded Glory." Labels tell us what to expect.

Labels give people meaning too. Labels make people valuable... or not so much.

I was visiting Lysa TerKeurst's blog a few days ago when she asked what are some of the ways her readers have labeled themselves. I thought about that for a while before replying.

My mental label maker has been awful busy.

I've taken on a lot of labels:
victim,
broken,
unlovable,
shameful,
hopeless...
These are - were - my identity... "just who I am."

I lived in these labels and they were real to me. I knew that I would never be anything else. After all, weren't they written on my heart, my soul and even my body for everyone to see? Didn't I prove them to be true over and over and over again?

But God is changing my reality and I'm working on accepting His labels: redeemed, adopted, loved, forgiven... a much better identity to live in, isn't it?

I'm working on letting God be my Label Maker.

No More

I've been finding myself at a loss for words a lot lately. Really at a loss.

Sometimes I don't speak because I can't find words I'm comfortable saying. It isn't that there aren't a lot of things going on in my head, I just don't want to share them without some serious editing.

Sometimes I don't speak because I can't find words that are more important than the ones I'm hearing. I prefer to listen - either because someone I care about has something to say, or because I need to hear the sound of someone's voice.

And then there are the times like the last week.
At these times, I don't speak because I can't find words at all.

I do a lot of crying though.

Not the bad, dark, dangerous kind of crying I've done so often, just the wordless weeping of a little girl asking her Daddy for... something.

I don't know what I'm asking. I don't really know my self right now. I've been used to living a certain way for quite some time... and things are changing. I don't know what to do with those changes.

God is grabbing 'hold of all those security blankets I've clung to and He's saying, "Let them go now."
He's taking a broom to all those dusty corners and He's saying, "Clean them up now."
He's throwing wide the doors of all those dark closets and He's saying, "Air them out now."

Let go of old habits, clean up the old thoughts, air out those old secrets.

"No more hiding, Bethany."

But God, I want to hide. I like those blankets and corners and closets. They're safe. They're comfortable. Lord, don't take them away, they're all I know. Hiding is all I know.

"No more hiding, child."

But God, can't I just - ?

"Bethany. NO. MORE."

I'll be honest, "no more" is not the answer I want to hear. When I sit crying for I-don't-know-what, "No more" is not the what I'm looking for.

But it's the what I've been given.
It's the how.
It's the why.

So I don't have a lot of words (despite the length of this post) as I sit here in this... wondering what "no more" will look like.

It's scary.

When you feel swept off your feet...

...maybe it's time to get on your knees.

This has been a hard week, but God has been faithful and has helped me through it. I'm on the knife's edge of ugly AND I'm somehow still standing - or perhaps kneeling.

Right now I'm taking a break in the middle of a 17 hour shift (I'm working a double). I was at work until 12:30am last night and had to be at work at 7:00am this morning. It's also my Friday so I am at the end of my capacity to function. I think I've downed more caffeine today than I usually consume in a week...

Jesus, please help me through the next 7 1/2 hours in a way that pleases You. "May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, o LORD, my strength and my redeemer!" (Psalm 19:14). I'm not feeling kind, or understanding, or patient so please let Your kindness, understanding and patience shine through me. AMEN.

On a positive note, the reason I'm working a double today is because on the 12th I will be moving to a shift-lead position on day shift. I should be home most days by 5:30pm and will actually get to see my children. I've been praying for this for the past year and it has finally come in God's perfect timing. I love it when that happens.

Please take a moment to pray for me over the next few days - hard!hard!HARD! I desperately need it.

What am I thinking?

I'm really confused right now and I'm feeling a lot of things I don't understand. I wish things were cut and dry.

But they aren't.

My ex is moving 3,000 miles away. I'm incredibly happy about it, but there's a part of me that isn't. I don't know if I'm sad or angry or... what?

One day I'm going to be strong enough for a confrontation - strong enough to admit where I failed AND call him to the carpet for his own choices. I'm no where near there yet, but I have to believe that day is coming. Hard to stand up and be strong from 3,000 miles away.

The last four months have been heinous and I need him to go away. I've made a lot of stupid choices, and he's taken some of my choices away. I've tried to take the whole blame for what's happened and I've taken on fault that isn't mine. My own guilt is enough, I shouldn't try to carry his. I've lied to protect him - again. Why do I do that?

Hard as it is for me to admit, there's a part of me that still loves him, or at least very desperately wishes things were different. I want to keep giving him opportunities, even though it means getting hurt. I keep hoping that one day I'll have real value in his eyes, other than what I can do for him. I keep hoping that one day I'll be worth being treated like a treasure instead of like trash. And I know that day isn't likely to come.

And he's leaving our kids. Now, the bigger part of me knows this is a good thing. He doesn't pay attention to them, they come home miserable from visits and they don't want to go to his house unless his girlfriend/fiancee (what is she now?) is there. They aren't sad he's leaving... but he's their father. Good or bad, he's the man God has put in their lives. They don't have anyone else. They're going to miss him. And when he stops calling, they're going to wonder why he stopped loving them. They're going to wonder what they did to stop being important.

I'm going to tell them they didn't do anything... and hope they believe me.

Speaking of his whatever-she-is... yet again my kids are losing someone significant. They love her and love spending time with her. She's staying here, and although she's said she wants to continue to see them, I'm afraid it won't last. Relationships fade when there isn't anything there to tie people together. My kids have already learned this... they've experienced it too many times in the last few months. My heart aches for the hard lessons they've had to learn.

So I'm glad he's leaving, and sad he's leaving, and mad he's leaving... and I feel bad that I'm all those things.

What am I thinking?