Longing

This week I have been sitting with the image of Jesus on the beach with his disciples after his resurrection.  He invited them to sit around the fire, rest and eat with him.  It is an amazing image of warmth, love and communion with Him.  As I place myself around that fire I feel a powerful need to drink deeply of this type of offering and yet I feel challenged to receive it.  Sometimes when I feel this in need, this vulnerable, I also tend to feel fear.  It is a fear of being hurt, fear of being violated, fear of being rejected.  This morning I found myself going to a place in my memory when I felt this in need, this vulnerable and yet safe, loved. 

Every once in a while I allow myself to travel far back into my memories and find myself curled up on the couch next to my dear Auntie Lil.  As I close my eyes I can still feel the warmth of her hand on my forehead.  I can hear the ping of the rings on her hand as they rubbed up against each other.  I can feel the distinctive rhythm of her fingers as she stroked my hair.  Even as I write these words my body aches with longing as the hot tears flow down my cheek.  Never once did I question my Auntie Lil’s love for me.  Never once did I feel my safety threatened or fear rejection. These moments of time brought unique opportunities to feel deeply loved and protected just as I was. 
 

Many times over the last ten years, these experiences have come to mind as I have tried to grasp how deep and how wide God’s love is for me.  In my reflection of these unique times with my Aunt, I have become more open to receive God’s perfect and tangible love.  However, I think that today, it is the very small child in me that needs to understand and receive this love and yet it is the very small child that feels so vulnerable and in danger.  So this morning, I ask that God would allow the child within me to receive His love through the very heart and hands of the one with whom she felt safe and protected.  I invite Him into these sacred spaces that I believe He provided for me so that this small child might receive all that God desired for her.  I feel nothing less than His blessing as I place this request before Him.  

Thank you Father for meeting me where I am and being willing to love me in ways that I am able to receive.  Amen

The Blood of Christ-Then and Now

This morning as I sit in reflection of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross, I am reminded of a previous post.  It felt important to bring out these words again and then consider what they mean to me now.

As I continue to sit with the image of the sinful woman from the gospel of Luke I have found myself coming face to face with the sin in my own life.  Sin that has been thrust upon me, sin that has come out of my own woundedness and my sin in choosing to keep all of it from the one True Healer.  As I step into this awareness, I see myself draped in a filthy, beaten and torn shawl of shame.  For years, I have allowed this shawl to cover me, to be my hiding place.  Now, however as I am present to this piece of my journey, as God has prepared me to be, I am beginning to see new movement.  I hear Christ beckoning me to the cross even as my shawl of shame is draped over my head, my eyes gazing down.  As I approach the cross, I fall to my knees.  Lifting my hands to wrap my fingers around the base of the cross that my Savior is hanging from, I cling to the hope that is there.  The blood from His wounds drips down His beaten body and off His feet, falling on my covered head.  As this drop of blood touches my shawl of shame, by the power, love and grace of Christ alone, it begins to dispel the filth and the shame, replacing it with a dazzling white.  This white slowly bleeds into the rest of my covering as God’s transforming truth penetrates and conquers the sin and lies that I have lived out of for so long.    

Now, over two years after first writing these words I find that they still feel raw and real.  I am still that broken person in need of healing, the unlovable in need of love, the sinner in need of forgiveness.  I am also aware that I have not always stayed at the foot of the cross where such transformational work is done.  Often I turn my head and move away.   If I am to be completely honest I would have to admit that it is fear that pulls me away.  Fear of the truth, fear of exposure, fear of vulnerability.  What I know is that God is bigger than my fear as He gently and continually invites me back.  Each time I return to Him, His healing goes a little deeper, His love spreads a little farther and my shawl becomes a little brighter.  Today I feel so thankful that God has not required me to clean myself up before I come to Him-an impossible task.  Rather, He invites me to come as I am and simply be open to receive His perfect and transforming love.  Lord, may my heart be open to you this day and may I “approach the throne of grace with confidence so that [ I might ] receive mercy and find grace.” Hebrews 4:16

Alone in the crowd

I have been sitting with this picture as the background for my computer screen for some time now.  I was struck instantly by it but was unsure why.  As I look at it I see one bird in the midst of many other birds and yet separated, alone.  I often feel like that one bird as I am aware that though I am surrounded by people that care about me, I feel very much alone.  Some of that loneliness comes out of a felt sense that flows from the streams running deep within my heart and back into the early years of my life.  Though this loneliness is of the past, I find myself perpetuating this feeling in my current day to day life through unconscious and even conscious actions that keep others at a safe distance and isolate myself in my journey.  Do I feel like I deserve to be alone?  Do I fear that others won't want to be with me if they know who I am?  These are some of the questions that I am asking of myself.  As I reflect on all of this, I also pause to consider what my earliest experience of loneliness was like.

As I begin to listen to and validate the traumatic responses that still exist in my body today, they paint a sobering picture of my experience of sexual abuse. As an adult, I am challenged to take in the images and sensations that come with this picture.  As an adult, I have found it quite difficult to share this picture with even my most trusted friends. I find myself wondering what it might have felt like to be a young child trying to figure out what to do with these very experiences.  How do you interpret them?   How do you live in them? How do you hold them all by yourself in a time of life when your greatest concern should be who might you play with that day?  I see a young child walking through her life with an outward appearance of health and happiness yet on the inside is experiencing a raging, torturous battle that she must face alone.  That seems to me to be the very definition of loneliness.  Some time ago I was struck by two simple lines in a song.  "Does anybody see her?  Does anybody hear?"  These lines went deep into my soul as I seemed to identify with those questions.  I find myself asking that question again today.  "How could no one have known?"

As I was sitting with all of this, I found myself asking how can God meet me in this loneliness that seems to run at the very core of my being?  Unaware of why, a recent experience came to mind.  One afternoon, not that long ago, I was in a particularly painful place.  I knew I needed to go into the ministry center that I work at to complete a project so I did.  Generally, I am able to mange my struggle in a way that minimizes how it is displayed over my face and body.  This day however, I seemed unable to do so.  There was not a person in the office that day who was not aware that I was in the midst of a deep and painful struggle.  In the very nature of our community, I was not questioned but acknowledged. I was not ignored but seen. I was not pressed but invited.  In my willingness to be seen, my experience from others that afternoon was of compassion, awareness and presence in the midst of my pain. It seems that God began to answer my question before I even asked it. I believe that God can and will reformat my brain and the way I experience my story through spaces and experiences such as this.  I believe that if I allow Him, He will restore the years the locusts have eaten so that I may know that He is the Lord my God.

God's Profound Love



 “ When I close my eyes to attend to my picture of God, my body is set alive by the experience.  I see colors rising and falling as they flow across a canvas. I hear music swirling and dancing all around me. I feel a deep longing within me to hold the brush from which the colors stream, allowing it to guide my hand with bold yet graceful movement.  My body aches to turn and flow with the swells that the music within me creates.  When I am able and willing to release these longings and step into all that they create, I find myself in a sincere and divine place of worship.  These divine places of worship, at times, are explosive, rich with joy filled energy and yet at other times, reverent and broken so deeply aware of the holiness of God. “

These words came out of a personal journal entry from some time ago.  They touch my heart and remind me of such sacred moments when I have been willing to open my heart, mind and body to God.  When I allow myself to be exposed to God's profound, healing and intimate love, I am blessed with a holy awareness and knowing of my Maker that cannot easily be described.  Today I am invited to allow God's love to penetrate the very shame in my life that I have been hiding and guarding for so very long.  The invitation brings fear and hesitation for what might occur during that process as the shame has kept my secrets safe for such a long time.  It is important now that I remember the words and experience I described over 2 1/2 years ago.  They allow me to look forward remembering that God's love is good and healing and gentle.  They allow me to imagine an experience that comes out of a divine love that brings wholeness and joy.  They encourage and strengthen my choice to allow God to lavish His love on me and to rely on His guard, His protection and to rest under the shadow of His wing.

God's Sufficiency

Recently the story of Moses’ beginning into ministry has been coming to mind. God appeared to him in the midst of a burning bush and spoke directly to him. He clearly told him of his calling and even offered additional encouragement and evidence when Moses was filled with doubt. Moses continued to question his own self sufficiency and God continued to demonstrate His sufficiency. When Moses still could not embrace his calling, God became angry and yet still allowed Moses to move forward in his calling even though he had not fully grasped the truth of God’s ultimate power and authority. In God’s grace, He even provided a crutch for Moses’ unbelief through his brother Aaron.

As I step forward into what God has called me to, I am very aware of how I don’t measure up. I often feel like Moses when he said, “O Lord, I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.” Exodus 4:10 I find that I shrink back out of my feelings of inadequacy as I notice others around me that are superior in wisdom and graciousness of speech. I am fully aware of my own awkwardness and I am quick to condemn my own unbelief. This viscous cycle keeps me wrapped up in my own self sufficiency and it is an easy way for the enemy to keep me down. Rather today, I choose to acknowledge my weaknesses, notice my areas for growth, ask for my companions to have patience with me, and then lean on God and trust in His provision and sufficiency.

Moving through the darkness into The Light

This morning I have been considering the experience of the disciples during this time of darkness as Christ was lying dead in the tomb. I can only imagine the turmoil they must have felt as they tried to wrap their heads around what had just happened. The man they had come to serve, love and know as the Messiah, the one who had come to save them had been put to death, conquered. What did that mean for them? Fear, doubt and sadness would have put a profound weight on their hearts. They had no understanding of what was to come. I wonder if they replayed the events over the last days and months trying to look for clues that might lead them into a better understanding of what had happened. If nothing else, the memories of being with Jesus might have offered some comfort. Those three days must have felt like three years as they tried to recollect themselves for life with this new reality.

We are gifted in knowing the story and its outcome. We know that the darkness for the disciples is only temporary and that their joy would become so much more complete when Jesus would rise up on that third day, overcoming death, sanctifying us from our sin and reconciling us with our Heavenly Father. As I have sat with these thoughts, I have been drawn into an awareness of my own experiences of fear, doubt and sadness that comes in those dark places. The turmoil that comes with waking up one day and realizing that what you thought you knew has been ripped away and you are left trying to pick up the pieces. The frustration and even anger you feel as you struggle to put the pieces back together and yet you seem to keep dropping them. How might the story of the disciples experience be of comfort to me? We know their story because it has been completed. We know that the darkness was only temporary and that God’s plan was in effect the entire time. We know that moving through the darkness and into the light more fully prepared them for living out God’s mission in their lives. Can I trust that God’s plan continues to be in effect for me? Can I remember His works in my life and look to His face to comfort and sustain me? Can I believe that when the darkness is over I will have even greater clarity and drive to live out what God has purposed me to be? During times of darkness, questions like these might need to be answered daily or even hour by hour. Some days they might need to come as a prayer for the strength and faith to even consider these questions.

So as I consider the journey of the disciples, I might also consider their encouragement as Paul said in Philippians 3:12, 14 I press on to take hold of that for which Christ took hold of me. I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.


Many blessings and care to you in this blessed Easter season.

“You need only to be still”

This morning I sit in deep reflection and prayer as I struggle to make sense of the pieces of my story that are being revealed to me. When I step out of my body and look at these pieces alone, a very clear picture is formed. However, as I remain in my body and attempt to fit these pieces into all that I have believed and known, the picture looks misshaped, deformed. How do I know when the picture is misshaped due to my mind's struggle to hide and protect and when it is misshaped simply because something is out of place. It is a battle in my mind for which I am ill-equipped to fight. As I have sat with all of these thoughts this morning, I cry out to God for help. On impulse, I pick up my phone and see the daily verse app pop up and I wonder what God might have to say to me today. I open the app and the verse that pops up is simply:

Exodus 14:14 "The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still."

Lord, help me to be still in the midst of such chaos in my mind. I trust you to bring clarity to my story in your way and in your time. Give me the courage to allow the picture to be deformed for now with the knowledge that you will not leave me that way. Amen