Sometimes I just want to slap people.
Other times, I just want to wrap my arms around them and tell them that everything will be okay.
When my friends hurt, I hurt. It kills me to see them in pain. I just want to fix it. What hurts me even more is to see them inflict pain on themselves. Because then their worst enemy is themself. And I can't help someone who doesn't want help.
Then I got to thinking. And it truly was a Jesus moment. If my heart bleeds for a hurting, broken friend, how much more does God's heart hurt? How much more does God's heart break?
Sometimes I just want my friends to see my love. I just want them to realize that someone really does care.
I want my friends to recognize the light at the end of the tunnel.
Healing is possible.
Restoration and freedom is real.
Hope is not futile.
Love conquers even the deepest pain.
And as I was thinking about all I wished I could do, all I wished they could see, Jesus reminded me of His love. That any love I have to give is minute compared to His. I would die for my loved ones. He did die for His loved ones, and even the ones who don't love Him.
He desires to wrap His children in His arms and whisper His love to them. He wants us to see His great and infinite love and tender care.
He wants us to see the light that is coming for those who trust in Him.
He wants His people to find deep healing and wholeness, but that only comes from one Person.
He longs for us to see Him as our Savior, our Rescue. He can restore even the most broken of spirits, rescue the bound and beaten prisoner.
He wants us to hope in Him, for us to find all of our longings fulfilled in His deep heart.
He has won the victory. He desires us to live as conquerors in His love.
I can't save my friends. I can't force people to see truth, to see God's love and grace, to see His call on their lives. But I can allow Him to work in my own. I can allow Him to break down my walls, open my heart, and I can live. I can find healing and wholeness in Him, choose to see the light that is near, choose to let Him break my chains, choose to hope in Him when satan whispers to give up. I can claim the victory that I fight so hard for but that has already been won. I can rest in my Savior, the Bearer of all peace and the Giver of life and the Healer of broken hearts.
I can show my friends that Jesus is in the business of restoring lives. That is my call. God is quite capable of all the rest and will use me however He sees is best.
Beloved, I know that the love I have for my friends is nothing compared to Yours. Forgive me for trying to carry their burdens on my own. You alone can handle that. And while I am called to walk through life with them, I cannot play god and fool myself into thinking that I can do things that only You can do. Forgive me for not surrendering them to You, for hating myself when I fall short, for getting frustrated with them when my efforts go ignored. Only You can melt hearts, only You can bring restoration and healing. So I surrender them to You, knowing full well that You can take much better care of them than I ever could. Show me how to be a friend who points others to You.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Honestly
Honestly, I had a craptastic weekend.
I'd rather just forget about it. Forget that all weekend I felt like a knife was twisting in my heart as I felt ignored. Invisible. Cast aside. Rejected.
Melodramatic? Honestly, no. I'm blunt enough with myself to be able to know when I'm just being emotional. And when it's legit.
How in the world am I supposed to cope with the fact that I no longer have a place of safety? That the place I could call home is no longer safe? How does one deal when best friends are no where to be found? When sisters are silent? When the tears just won't stop flowing because my worst fears have come true?
I've been through stuff I would never in a million years wish on my worst enemy. I've kept the pain and the secrets locked up. Hid the key where no one could find it. I swore I'd never tell a soul. Because then they'd reject me. For sure the truth would be seen that I was unlovable. If anyone knew, they'd see me worthy of condemnation. The equivalent of dirt. Not fit for life. These feelings surfaced over the weekend. But they are the lies satan has whispered to me for years. Since I was about 10. So I've strived to hide it all and pretend like I'm unscathed, pretend like I can't be touched.
But that's not who I am. I am by nature relational. I love being open, catching those little glimpses of myself, of the heart that lies behind the walls. And I've been able to open up to an extent. I told people when I swore it'd be my secret for life. Isn't that enough?
No. Because now comes the hard part. Now comes the healing.
I don't have to heal. I could live like I've been living for the past 7 years. But that's not good enough. Honestly, I want more. I'm tired. My heart needs to be free. Telling someone has opened the prison door. But the shackles are still on my wrists, reminding me that I need more. Reminding me that my God is in the process of removing each link until I am free. And that takes time. And honesty.
So this weekend, in the midst of all the craptasticness, God met me on a path in the woods. He took me to a place I fear. Into myself. To be honest. To come clean. To be real. And it hurt.
But honestly, I wouldn't have traded that moment for a better weekend.
He reminded me that in Jesus, the accusations are null and void. In John 8:3-11, an adulteress is brought before Jesus. As He is questioned about what should be done, He simply says, "He who is without sin should cast the first stone."
My accusers have no authority.
He looks at the woman, looks at me, and asks, "Woman, where are your accusers now? Has no one condemned you?"
"No one, sir."
Realization.
"Then neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin."
A declaration of freedom.
Honestly, I have no excuse to hold myself back from God. Honestly, it's time to heal.
And honestly, I'm going to keep my heart open.
It was something my dad said tonight. He was telling me about the weekend that he and my mom spent with the one percenter biker clubs at an event that would cause a coronary in many of today's "Christians". Bikers for Christ had a booth set up there. In the middle of the drunks. In the middle of the bike games and stripper poles and bawdy entertainment.
Right where Jesus would have sat.
And Dad said they didn't have many people come over to the booth. Not many people wanted to talk about God. But they showed a level of respect that not even Billy Graham would receive. The topless bike games were changed to include tops because of the proximity of the BFC booth. The nearby bathrooms were kept clean, and the men and women alike of BFC were respected.
Even if their presence wasn't acknowledged by everyone, Dad said he still knew that people didn't mind the group being there. That most welcomed them. These so called heathens welcomed a completely different group from themselves into their midst. And their presence was appreciated.
I could back down. I could step away and try to find a new nitch. A new place of safety.
But God isn't safe. Or comfortable. Ministry sucks and not everyone wants you around. Not even the Church. But my hope and prayer is that in the midst of all I'm dealing with, my authentic, open, healing heart will be used to inspire others deeper into the heart of God.
And honestly, that's worth it.
Maybe one day I'll be able to write about what happened.
No.
One day I will be able to.
God, keep opening my heart and breaking down the walls. I've told You that all of me is Yours. Now when it comes time to test that, I pray that You would give me the strength to surrender. To live like I'm Yours. To truly be Yours.
I'd rather just forget about it. Forget that all weekend I felt like a knife was twisting in my heart as I felt ignored. Invisible. Cast aside. Rejected.
Melodramatic? Honestly, no. I'm blunt enough with myself to be able to know when I'm just being emotional. And when it's legit.
How in the world am I supposed to cope with the fact that I no longer have a place of safety? That the place I could call home is no longer safe? How does one deal when best friends are no where to be found? When sisters are silent? When the tears just won't stop flowing because my worst fears have come true?
I've been through stuff I would never in a million years wish on my worst enemy. I've kept the pain and the secrets locked up. Hid the key where no one could find it. I swore I'd never tell a soul. Because then they'd reject me. For sure the truth would be seen that I was unlovable. If anyone knew, they'd see me worthy of condemnation. The equivalent of dirt. Not fit for life. These feelings surfaced over the weekend. But they are the lies satan has whispered to me for years. Since I was about 10. So I've strived to hide it all and pretend like I'm unscathed, pretend like I can't be touched.
But that's not who I am. I am by nature relational. I love being open, catching those little glimpses of myself, of the heart that lies behind the walls. And I've been able to open up to an extent. I told people when I swore it'd be my secret for life. Isn't that enough?
No. Because now comes the hard part. Now comes the healing.
I don't have to heal. I could live like I've been living for the past 7 years. But that's not good enough. Honestly, I want more. I'm tired. My heart needs to be free. Telling someone has opened the prison door. But the shackles are still on my wrists, reminding me that I need more. Reminding me that my God is in the process of removing each link until I am free. And that takes time. And honesty.
So this weekend, in the midst of all the craptasticness, God met me on a path in the woods. He took me to a place I fear. Into myself. To be honest. To come clean. To be real. And it hurt.
But honestly, I wouldn't have traded that moment for a better weekend.
He reminded me that in Jesus, the accusations are null and void. In John 8:3-11, an adulteress is brought before Jesus. As He is questioned about what should be done, He simply says, "He who is without sin should cast the first stone."
My accusers have no authority.
He looks at the woman, looks at me, and asks, "Woman, where are your accusers now? Has no one condemned you?"
"No one, sir."
Realization.
"Then neither do I condemn you. Go now and leave your life of sin."
A declaration of freedom.
Honestly, I have no excuse to hold myself back from God. Honestly, it's time to heal.
And honestly, I'm going to keep my heart open.
It was something my dad said tonight. He was telling me about the weekend that he and my mom spent with the one percenter biker clubs at an event that would cause a coronary in many of today's "Christians". Bikers for Christ had a booth set up there. In the middle of the drunks. In the middle of the bike games and stripper poles and bawdy entertainment.
Right where Jesus would have sat.
And Dad said they didn't have many people come over to the booth. Not many people wanted to talk about God. But they showed a level of respect that not even Billy Graham would receive. The topless bike games were changed to include tops because of the proximity of the BFC booth. The nearby bathrooms were kept clean, and the men and women alike of BFC were respected.
Even if their presence wasn't acknowledged by everyone, Dad said he still knew that people didn't mind the group being there. That most welcomed them. These so called heathens welcomed a completely different group from themselves into their midst. And their presence was appreciated.
I could back down. I could step away and try to find a new nitch. A new place of safety.
But God isn't safe. Or comfortable. Ministry sucks and not everyone wants you around. Not even the Church. But my hope and prayer is that in the midst of all I'm dealing with, my authentic, open, healing heart will be used to inspire others deeper into the heart of God.
And honestly, that's worth it.
Maybe one day I'll be able to write about what happened.
No.
One day I will be able to.
God, keep opening my heart and breaking down the walls. I've told You that all of me is Yours. Now when it comes time to test that, I pray that You would give me the strength to surrender. To live like I'm Yours. To truly be Yours.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Fear
Fear.
Four letters. A short, frequently used word. And it has completely wreaked havoc in my heart.
I'm coping in my head and heart with the fact that I'm weak. I'm human. And I'll always be human and subject to lots of mess ups.
But I'm terrified to show my weakness.
I'm terrified to admit that I don't have it all together, that I'm hurting, that I've never felt so alone. Terrified to tell people that this past Sunday was the first in almost a month that I haven't cried. Afraid to tell someone that last Wednesday I cried all the way home from a friend's house after church.
It's one thing to write it out on here. I don't write for someone else. This is purely me coping with what's going on in my life. I don't see the faces of the few who read what I write.
And I like that.
I can't find it in me to tell the people who have walked through life with me for the past several years that I'm struggling and that I need so much more than words. I long to have their presence. But I don't know if I'll get it. I don't know if they'll come through. Am I willing to risk that?
What if God is telling me to? To risk disappointment? To be vulnerable? That thought alone is enough to turn my stomach. I'm supposed to go on a retreat this weekend. And my pride is screaming to not go. Don't risk it. It's not worth it. They aren't worth it.
But it is. And they are.
Because even if they don't come through. Even if my heart goes unheard. Even if no one stands beside me.
My God is enough. He always comes through. He hears my heart. He stands beside me.
And saying that is hard. Believing that removes all my excuses to hold my fear around me like a security blanket. Living that out, actually putting it into practice, requires everything.
I'm still reading Captivating. And I'm learning from it. And I'm seeing that to live in the Lord is to have a heart that is at rest. A heart that is content in Him. Living in Him is to possess a heart of true beauty, of authenticity; a heart that lacks striving.
And past all my fears and doubts, my soul thirsts for His life, for His healing. And He calls me to be vulnerable. To open up my heart and in the midst of all the fear of rejection and of being invisible to be authentic. I don't want to hide or be a bearer of chaos. I desire His peace. And it comes through living with an open heart.
And I may be ignored. But. My God is enough. And really learning that, really living that, is hard. But I've come too far to go back to looking to people to be my source. His grace is enough. And I need to be able to stand on that.
Oh God, I'm swimming in fear, but you are so much bigger than any of it. You are the God who is calling me to healing and reliance on You. You don't wish heartbreak or sadness on me. You use the crappy aspects of life to hedge me in and draw me to You. Thank You, God, for being willing to go to any length to save my soul. Help me to cast aside everything that holds me back. May I be so rooted and sourced in You that the relationships in my life are just overflow. May the true source come from You. I surrender my fear and all else that holds me back. Into Your arms I'm falling.
Four letters. A short, frequently used word. And it has completely wreaked havoc in my heart.
I'm coping in my head and heart with the fact that I'm weak. I'm human. And I'll always be human and subject to lots of mess ups.
But I'm terrified to show my weakness.
I'm terrified to admit that I don't have it all together, that I'm hurting, that I've never felt so alone. Terrified to tell people that this past Sunday was the first in almost a month that I haven't cried. Afraid to tell someone that last Wednesday I cried all the way home from a friend's house after church.
It's one thing to write it out on here. I don't write for someone else. This is purely me coping with what's going on in my life. I don't see the faces of the few who read what I write.
And I like that.
I can't find it in me to tell the people who have walked through life with me for the past several years that I'm struggling and that I need so much more than words. I long to have their presence. But I don't know if I'll get it. I don't know if they'll come through. Am I willing to risk that?
What if God is telling me to? To risk disappointment? To be vulnerable? That thought alone is enough to turn my stomach. I'm supposed to go on a retreat this weekend. And my pride is screaming to not go. Don't risk it. It's not worth it. They aren't worth it.
But it is. And they are.
Because even if they don't come through. Even if my heart goes unheard. Even if no one stands beside me.
My God is enough. He always comes through. He hears my heart. He stands beside me.
And saying that is hard. Believing that removes all my excuses to hold my fear around me like a security blanket. Living that out, actually putting it into practice, requires everything.
I'm still reading Captivating. And I'm learning from it. And I'm seeing that to live in the Lord is to have a heart that is at rest. A heart that is content in Him. Living in Him is to possess a heart of true beauty, of authenticity; a heart that lacks striving.
And past all my fears and doubts, my soul thirsts for His life, for His healing. And He calls me to be vulnerable. To open up my heart and in the midst of all the fear of rejection and of being invisible to be authentic. I don't want to hide or be a bearer of chaos. I desire His peace. And it comes through living with an open heart.
And I may be ignored. But. My God is enough. And really learning that, really living that, is hard. But I've come too far to go back to looking to people to be my source. His grace is enough. And I need to be able to stand on that.
Oh God, I'm swimming in fear, but you are so much bigger than any of it. You are the God who is calling me to healing and reliance on You. You don't wish heartbreak or sadness on me. You use the crappy aspects of life to hedge me in and draw me to You. Thank You, God, for being willing to go to any length to save my soul. Help me to cast aside everything that holds me back. May I be so rooted and sourced in You that the relationships in my life are just overflow. May the true source come from You. I surrender my fear and all else that holds me back. Into Your arms I'm falling.
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