Owned and Completed.

There is a trend in my life....it's the roll down the grassy hill to the pit of destruction that lies in wait at the bottom: it's the lie that whispers to me that joy is found in that next bowl of ice cream or in owning yet one more mp3 album. It's the whole stack of excuses I  can pull out of my sleeve why not to cook a healthy dinner and why not to work out on the recumbent bike.  It's so sneaky and subtle that it is even to be found HERE in this expose`  of it.  It's keeping me here talking about it rather than acting in a positive way to unmask it and put the pith and core of truth to work in my life.

When I'm straining to zip up a pair of pants that two  years ago would have horrified me to even own--and finding even these way way too small for my girth...then I think to myself, "What are  you doing here to yourself?" I tell myself then that I shall NOT eat that half gallon of ice cream with my name written on it in the freezer.  I tell myself then that tomorrow I will get up early and exercise. And when I'm clicking that lovely "Place Order" button online to send my next possession speeding to my doorstep I tell myself, 'After this one last thing I will not order any more...I will save money instead'....and another month occurs when I not only do not save anything, but run out of money two weeks prior to the month's end.  And am I any happier for owning this or that?  NO. In fact they are forgotten almost as soon as they were gotten.

So what is the problem here?  WHY am I eating too much?  WHY am I buying too much??
I think partly the problem is loneliness.  I have friends.  Virtual ones.  I have a husband who  recently reminded me that that is "in name only.  On paper only."
I have satisfactions.  I've just misplaced them I think.

I watched the next to last session of John Piper's DVD series "When I Don't Desire God--How to fight for Joy" and felt pricked to the core.  I have not desired God for a long time. I have desired to desire God. but that is an altogether different thing.  That is like looking at the map and thinking you have arrived when you have not yet left.  Just because I can SEE where I want to be; does not mean that I am there already.

So much is out of kilter.  I read that book on the Gospel...and it pumped me up....but now, I can no longer recall a word that it said.  This is likely due to my lack of short term memory, (thank you very much Dr. ECT) but it must also be due to the fact that I never OWNED what I was enjoying in the book.  It's like getting all excited about something you find in a catalog....but forget to order....so thus the excitement is really short lived. (and that analogy falls apart once the item is ordered and in your hot little hands and you find it wasn't really what you wanted at all).

I need something.
I need it desperately.
And once I find it...I will NOT need bowl after bowl of ice cream. NOR will I need to own everything  I set my sights on.  This God shaped vacuum in me MUST get filled....and I MUST find HIm to be my all in all; my truest treasure.  And I desire that to be the case very very much.  What is in my way....?  The actual DOING of it.  The feasting on that which will truly fill and delight me.  The OWNERSHIP by the bit of God himself who has deigned to dwell in me.  Note I said "ownership BY the God"  for truly I cannot own God but must make sure  that he owns me.  Completely.

My Hazardous Faith

Sometimes our faith in Jesus leads us into deep waters.  He tells us to get into the water up to our waist, before he shows signs of parting the sea. This is my story of one of the "Hazardous" areas into which Christ has called me to follow him...There is a  link at the bottom where you can share your own story of hazardous faith. To celebrate the publication of their new book 
( Ed Cyzewski and Derek Cooper’s"Hazardous; Committing to the Cost of Following Jesus,) Ed is holding a Synchroblog where bloggers all join to share their own stories of Hazardous Faith.

Hard times.

Tough Decisions.

Well what about the tough decision to support a sister in her hard times?   Here's her story:

 " I had a nice life here in Davao City in the Philippines. My husband was the pastor of a church and I was the worship leader.  I loved nothing more than singing for the Lord and leading his people in worship.  I once sang backup for Don Moen a famous musician in his tour of SE Asia.  My life was wonderful compared to many--the unspeakably poor...the ones I saw daily holding out their hands for help.  Never did I imagine that my husband would suddenly leave our church, our marriage and our faith--to go to the arms of his homosexual lover....leaving me with three very young children...That same year I lost my parents to death and also watched my favorite, beloved sister die right before my eyes in an attack of asthma.

"Suddenly I was plunged into poverty....suddenly it was MY children holding out their hands for help.  I spent time on my computer, depressed, locked in the sadness of grief and anger that no one could share.  Anger at my husband....and yes, anger at God.  There was a site on line that I visited often.  Jango.  It was a station where you could design your own radio station and listen to music for free.  The music  there began to heal my wounded soul.  Then, on Jango I made two friends,  David and my sis, Cynthia.  I called her sis because she is my sister in the Lord---and because she reminds me of my sister who I lost.  I told my friends about my sadness.  And in time, they discovered also my need.  My children were starving---and so was I.  I worked hard to try to earn money:  long, long hours with little sleep and no food.  In my country when a man leaves a woman, it is considered by all to be the fault of the woman.   My children and I were called "useless" by others and  they would call us names as we passed by on the street.  Even my Christian "brothers and sisters" rejected me.

"But my Sis and my friend David told me it was not my fault and that it was wrong for my people to commit this sin against me.  Cynthia cried as I told her of these things.  And one day, she cried because of our hunger.  I don't remember exactly when , but she began to send us money via Western Union.....and with this I could buy food.  I was so ashamed to have to confess to her my need.   And even more ashamed to take her money.  If it had been just me, I would not have taken it; but I could not stand by and let my children die.  Life is still very hard....But we have had food--enough to keep us alive.  Recently my city was overcome in flash flooding....I saw the water rise like in the days of Noah...and heard screams as people were overcome and drowned.  

"My daughter is extremely smart and gifted.  She was chosen to attend a special school for gifted students.  And there she won a scholarship ...Cynthia has helped to buy her books and pay her bus fare to school....I am hoping that if she does well, then maybe we will not have to depend on Cynthia forever. 

That was my sister's hard time.

MY tough decision was to disregard every piece of advice I got in regard to my sweet sister....people warned me that the Philippines is rife with scams....Women trying to get American husbands...just to get into our country.  Women  trying to  prey upon the sympathies of others.  I was told that this could be an elaborate scam.  That my sister may have a hundred "sisters" like me contributing to her needs.  The website for Western Union specifically says 'Do not send money to people in countries whom you have not met personally.'

I struggled with all of this.

But I've seen many, many pictures of my friend's house over the years.  It's little more than a makeshift shack that she has made herself.  I've seen her needs.  I've seen her kids--seen them able to play in the school band in the parade when I bought them the uniforms; seen them in glee blow out the candles in the birthday cake I got them....seen her daughter getting awards and medals and scholarships for her hard work in school....My spirit tells me these are not scams but that my sister has allowed me the privilege of sharing her life with me as she has shared her needs with me. She has only recently been more comfortable telling me of her needs....previously I had to practically drag the words out of her.

Now I face a hard question.

I am up to my eyeballs in medical bills.  I've heard people say that  we have no "right " to give while we have debt.  If that were true no one would ever give....as long as they had a mortgage or a car payment.  If I continue to share my income with  my sister....then I know that God will continue to meet my needs and hers as well.  He   has blessed me and I know that it is because I have been faithful to help my sister and her kids.

I look forward to the moment in heaven when my sister comes to wrap her arms around  me.  The moment that I get to hold her in my arms will be worth every bit of sacrifice.

I am not telling you this to impress you with my righteousness or my giving  I know that rather, I will most likely get criticized for it y some people.  And that is okay...I am at rest before my God knowing that I have done what he has called me to do.  And I know that on the other side of the world is a family who maybe would not be here now had God not called me to help them.  That - and the Lord's smile- are my reward.

: http://wp.me/PewoB-SN  - Go to this link to add your own story to the Synchroblog for the new book: Hazardous. (see yesterday's post for more explanation.)

A Hazardous Duty

A writer/believer whose work I follow and whose blog I receive via email (Ed Cyzewski) just released a book entitled, 'Hazardous: Committing to the Cost of Following Jesus' and is organizing a synchroblog amongst his readers to celebrate and advertise the entre' of his book into the publishing world.  Here are the parameters of the Synchroblog:

During the week of August 27-September 2, write a post for your blog:

• Write a blog post sharing a personal story about a challenge you faced as a follower of Jesus. (You could also add: “I’m sharing My Hazardous Faith Story as part of a synchroblog connected with the release of Ed Cyzewski and Derek Cooper’s new book Hazardous: Committing to the Cost of Following Jesus.”).
• At the bottom of your post, link to the synchroblog landing page: http://wp.me/PewoB-SN so that others can share their own Hazardous Faith Stories (Hey, you can just copy and paste these bullet points!)
• Add your post to the link up section at the bottom of the My Hazardous Faith Story landing page on Monday-Saturday. Don’t forget to read and comment on at least one other post!
• Tweet your post with the #HazardousFaith tag.
• Include this image with your post: 400 pixels or 250 pixels width.

And simply because I have nothing else up my sleeve and because I'm intrigued by the topic, I'm gonna give it a go.  So be on the lookout sometime this week for my blog post which will be a part of this endeavor by a bunch of us blogger/Christian writers (dare I include myself in that category??) to help promote the work of a fellow writer.

And if you are a Christian blogger, I would extend the same welcome to you; to join the bandwagon and write your own post following the guidelines above.
And keep an eye open for Ed's book, Hazardous

 

O, The Deep,Deep Love of Jesus

This is my favorite version of my favorite hymn. OH that LOVE!

PLay me a River (of Tears)

This morning I am immersed in some of the world's greatest female vocalists.  Sade, Aretha, Norah Jones, Roberta Flack,....I confess to having bought more than one album today from Amazon.....Fortunately they were not expensive ones.  I love music so much. The fact that I am losing my hearing makes me sad beyond expression.  What will I do once I have only my own demons to listen to??  I don't think I will be able to bear living like that.

If you know me; you  know that I am Always ALWAYS listening to music...iPod or iHome or YouTube or Spotify....Music transports me. Calms me. Spooks me. Intrigues me.....speaks to me of different times in my life.....My music collection is my photo album and my video library.  They  say that scent is the sense most tightly tied to our memories.  For me it is music. (Music is a sense?? Yes, it must be)....

I used to take my paintings to a spa in NY....They would have an always changing arrangement of my paintings there....and the only thing I really recall about the place is that they were playing Norah Jones on their sound system.  I don't know if they always had her playing or if it was just that first time that I heard those milky tones flowing through the corridors there.  But it forever impressed me....it set the tone and the ambiance for that place...and made it distinctive in my memory.

Similarly, the first time I heard Adele....singing her furious "Rollin' in the Deep" was when the moderator on SZ. com  shared a link to her singing that song.  I was gobsmacked to use an Aussie/Brit term.....I will never forget that night...listening to Adele over and over...and then a few days later, I heard her rollicking tones filling the PlayTogs store in NY....a dumpy place made memorable by the addition of genius.

And now James Taylor is playing.  His smoky sound first met my ears when I was 16 and hospitalized in Columbia Presbyterian in NYC ---a friend had slipped a cassette tape into my hand the night before I went in.  On one side was James Taylor's Greatest Hits and on the other was the Eagles Greatest Hits.  I like the Eagles....but more often then not, I fast forwarded through that side so I could listen to the sweet sadness of  James Taylor.  It was to his songs that tears slid down my cheeks there, alone, young and in hospital: watching the Christmas lights twinkling in the windows of surrounding apartments...

And Sade??  Brings me back to our second apartment in the early 90's...My newborne babe lying in her cradle and Sade's Smooth Operator flowed like a silken scarf might weave its way on a breeze through my living room.. Young wife; new babe....finding comfort in music.

And nothing much has changed now; except everything else.  The only thing that has remained the same is me burying my head in the sands of music...closing my eyes to the ugly in my life; to the sad in my life and allowing these voices to sing my sadness so it doesn't come to rest on me.

Gospel Truth

I am reading another book on the gospel.  This book, The Explicit Gospel, by Matt Chandler--is quite different from Jesus+Nothing=Everything.  I've been thinking a lot about the Gospel...how immense it is.  Exploring it is like the four blind men describing an elephant from their particular experience of it, depending on where near it they were standing.  To Matt Chandler, the gospel is brutal , bloody, fierce.  And God in his understanding is terrifying and no one to be messed with or mistaken about.  I do not know where Chandler will end up.  Will he resolve the terror into something approaching the joy of the Gospel that others speak of?  Will he get God to an approachable place?  I do not know.  All I know is this book is NOT a comfortable read.  I am terrified of this God.  And mankind is completely insignificant: NOT the point of creation NOT created for God to have company;  NOT having rights to approach God or to think that he should owe us anything including an explanation for why he does what he does.

While I know that this view of God is true....It's not a truth I want to get close to.  I wonder how Pastor Chandler can love this God he has painted.  I am not saying this to be provocative. I am truly curious.  Does he worship and serve because he is terrified to do anything to upset or insult this God?  Granted, I am only halfway through the book....maybe all of these things I am thinking are miscomprehensions about the book; maybe I have missed the point....

What are MY thoughts about the Gospel at this point?  Honestly I'm confused.  Jesus is all the fullness of God.  Which means that that ferocious, fierce God of the OT--is in Jesus.  And it also means that the Jesus who played with kids and was tender with the broken....God in Heaven is like that too.  So what does that mean?  It means that God LOVED.  He loved us.  He Loved his creation.  And he would stop at nothing---hold nothing back--to fix it where it was broken.....He focused that ferocity and awesome power at the enemy: sin and death....and held out the hand of humanity to the people who depended on him for not just their next breath; but for any hope of surviving death.  Is he Good News?  Absolutely.  Sin is a tarred and feathered foe.  Death is a toothless snake.
And Jesus will be the eternal King promised to David.  He will ascend that throne and will receive the worship and awe that he was due all along.  And yet,, because God walked among us; I think he will continue to be friend....Our friend and magnificent King.

Beloved-Tenth Avenue North.wmv

Morning Musings

This morning I am feeling awful.  I woke last night with an explosive headache.   I seriously thought I was having a stroke.  I took my BP with the blood pressure monitor I got for my last birthday - and it was 158/89.  Too high.  And that despite the fact that I'm on three different hypertension meds.  So last night I took an extra lasix and Cozaar and tried to sleep.  I only dozed, always being aware of my headache  This morning I felt even worse, took BP again and it was 159/97--and that was about two hours after taking the two extra meds.

So I just ate breakfast (a little early, because I wanted to hurry and take my meds).  I took my regular meds and we will see what happens.  The high BP could partly be because  I'm just coming off of a steroid taper--and that always raises it.

Today I have an appointment with my shoulder surgeon.  We are going to try ONE more time to re-schedule this first surgery....

Have you heard of an online site called "SmartyPig"?  It is like a virtual piggy bank...where you store real money. You can set savings goals for specific projects or purposes; for example, your child's college fund.  Or your Christmas spending money.....and then SmartyPig will deduct$ from your bank account one or two times a month....and they contribute 1% interest....Anyway. I'm not intending to be a spokesperson for them...but I just think "what a great idea!"  ...(btw, they are FDIC  insured etc etc)...And when someone mentions that  you referred them, that person will receive $10 (so if you are opening an account because of this, please feel free to drop my name :)    I can certainly use the $10.)

I've been running out of money at least one week prior to the month's end, and often two.  How does that happen?  It's true that I have a lot of medical bills....It's also true that I have to pay every penny of my own expenses....but it is also true that I've been spending too much.  There is no reason that I should run out so soon. And there is no excuse not to save.  It is possible for anyone to save...regardless of how little they have.  How do I know this?  I have a friend who is living in poverty....and despite her hunger and other needs, she puts aside a little bit each month.  Hearing that really convicted me.  I am not being wise in my handling of my finances....and I"ve made a commitment to myself and to God to change that.  Won't you join me in this?  End the cycle of debt and overspending in your life....self denial is a godly discipline and it's one that is all too uncommon these days.  I want to end that in my life.

Captured by Grace

Listening now to the song "Rescue" by Newsong. (I've posted that song in this blog before...use the blog's search engine if you want to hear the song again.)...The song makes me sad--or rather opens to the air, the sadness that is there already, under the surface...like a hotspring boiling under the surface of the ground, just ready to spurt upward.  The song lances that thin layer covering that pain and allows it to pour out.  "I need you Jesus, come to my rescue! Where else can I go?"  The song ends the chorus with the words, "Capture me with Grace" and indeed--aren't we?  Isn't it the Grace of God that attracts and entrances us?  It is for me.  It's his Grace that meets our raw, naked NEED.

Maybe for some people it is his strength--they feel that they can run to him and he has the power to change things; protect, or to benefit people....so it is to him they run.  But if you go to God for his strength; then you risk becoming the object of his strength....Like maybe he will squash you like a bug....

If you go to him because he is Love; then you incur a debt....when someone loves you, there is an expectation that you will respond in some particular way in return.

But if you go to him and depend on his Grace; then you can bet he will act on your behalf in ways that will dazzle you---and it will come freely.  You owe him nothing but to BE there.  He will  fix it; He will fix you.  And you do not have to do anything but to allow Him to change you.  And the consequence of this can only be Joy.  So, where's the catch?  What do we owe?  What do we need to do in return?

Just to stay in his Grace.  The moment we try to lift a finger to add to what God is doing on our behalf; then we nullify his Grace....We add to it effort---and suddenly it is no longer Grace.  So the "work" of it is simply to keep from working; to bathe in the Joy and Delight of it; to laugh aloud with the emboldening audacity of Grace.  Of course --Grace on God's side emerges out of  his strength AND his love on our behalf; and of course, when given the miracle of Grace we will respond in trust and love....but Grace is the keynote; the ballast for the sail.  For God so LOVED he GAVE.  The giving of God emerges from the heart of love God holds for us his wayward children.  That giving is "Grace upon Grace...."

Yeah. "I'm captured by your Grace."---It's the only thing I can trust; it's the only thing I can afford.  It's Grace to the Rescue.

Review: Jesus+Nothing=Everything

Jesus + Nothing = Everything by Tullian Tchividjian

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I'm sure that my friends on Facebook and the readers of my blog are both grateful that I've been so profoundly moved by "Jesus+Nothing=Everything" and also relieved that I've finished it, as I've inundated them with quotes from and thoughts prompted by this book.  Tullian Tchidivijian (I've even learned to spell his name!) wrote a masterful treatise on the myriads of ways the Gospel will radically transform US as well as our lives if we give it the room it deserves.  He demonstrated by citing a difficult phase in his life and ministry how we are in a position in which we cannot be threatened or shaken by suffering -- although certainly we shall feel its pain, there is nothing that anyone can do to us because of the permanency and immutability of our position in Christ.

As Pastor Tullian remarked at several points in the book, "Christ did not come to make bad people better but to make dead people alive."  He radically shifted the ground under my feet as he demonstrated with plentiful Scripture corroboration, that my worth is not measured by my performance.  God does not love me more if I sin less.  These sound like radical departures from our society's (and sadly, our churches') understanding of our faith...and indeed they are.  However, those statements are NOT heresy but indeed are central to our Bible.  This is the ground trodden and torn up by Martin Luther in the Reformation. 

As Pastor Tullian unwrapped the beauty of my standing in Christ; as I felt the shackles of performance and failure fall from my wrists--I was amazed at the scope of the impact of these thoughts.  I am sure that I am not done learning from this book.  It has opened my eyes to the beauty of what Scripture has to say about the Gospel and clarified for me the answers to questions I did not realize  I had.  This is a must read book for anyone who has been touched by or needs the touch of the Gospel  (and yes: I meant everyone).



View all my reviews

Fallen

I just showered and then blew my hair dry.  I went to wind up the cord on the hair dryer when  I was done, and somehow it slipped from my fingers skittering over under the toilet.  I bent for it....and lost my balance as I was leaning forward....I just kept going; leading with my face.  My nose smashed into the toilet tank and I heard the bones crack.  I also scraped a knee badly.

What do you do when you get hurt?
I don't know about you but I seek comfort.  I called my husband really wanting him to say, "Oh no ! are you okay?  Let me help you up."  That's really all I wanted but of course that response belongs in some other make believe script; it's not one that exists around here.
So, I was disappointed.  I was hurt and uncomforted.  So what did I do?  I cursed my husband.
And that was the wrong thing to do.
So now I"m hurt, disappointed (both in my husband AND in myself) and I remain uncomforted.

I feel like a failure.  A failure that got punched in the face by a toilet tank.

I know that Jesus is my husband and the Lover of my soul...  I know that HE WAS there saying just the right things if I'd have listened for them.  I should not have sought comfort from a source that is notoriously bereft of kindness.  Because I sought human comfort; I got none.  ..And a big fight occurred which did not need to have been.

But what do I know? What does the Gospel tell me?
I failed.  but I am not a failure.  Because Jesus became a failure for me: I am free to fail.
I am loved.  No less because of my wrong, harsh words to my husband...  And because my Lord Loves me completely....perfectly....what my husband says and does should not have the power to make me TILT.  I am my Lord's Beloved regardless.

So.
consider it a lesson learned.

Complete

For God, in all his fullness was pleased to live in Christ and through him God reconciled everything to Himself.  He made peace with everything in heaven and earth by means of Christ's blood on the cross.  This includes you who were once far away from God.  You were his enemies, separated from him by your evil thoughts and actions.  yet now he has reconciled you to himself through the death of Christ in his physical body. As a  result he has brought you into his own presence and you are holy and blameless as you stand before him without a single fault. But you must continue to believe this truth and stand firmly in it. Don't drift away from the assurance you receive when you heard the Good News.  Col. 1:19-23a

I am still working my way through "Jesus+Nothing=Everything" and in my time of  Penuel each morning, I am reading all of the associated Scriptures.  I confess, for a long time, the Scriptures have looked dull and dry to me.  Now that I'm examining them through the Gospel Telescope: they are glittering and marvelous with meaning.  I want to memorize them all.  In every translation. However my mind is not facile enough to manage that with any alacrity....So instead I just write the verses that hit me between the eyes onto 4x6 cards and carry them around all day to keep reading them.

I'm going to make a huge statement.  Ready?

I honestly do not know if I possessed conversion prior to this past week.
Now I have some reservation about saying that.  I've done things in the past that were definitely Spirit empowered and prompted....Let's just put it this way.  Prior to this week I was a captive.  I was a captive to my sin  A captive to my image of a disapproving stern God.  I was a captive to my own insufficient efforts.  I was captive to the knowledge that I was NOT good enough to enjoy heaven or to "merit it"  (it was the thought that I had to merit it which was what was really in the way!)

NOW I know why God has not allowed me to die all these many many times, my body tried to come home.  It's because there was so much more to be had.  Once more Scripture is alive  I don't want to do anything else but read it.  It's like I  never saw it before.  I read these passages of amazing GOOD NEWS and I wonder, how did I read those in the past without dancing?  Without rejoicing?

I never got it before....that he did it ALL. EVERYTHING necessary to make me his bride and to be presented to the  Father faultless.  I never got it before how the gospel can make us holy. ...how the Good News of Christ's death for me will make me clean and pure and holy if I only allow it to.  I struggled and tried and stumbled time and time again against my cantankerous sinful, prideful SELF--never able to improve my sinful character....Never able to do anything positive because I could not manage to lift myself by my bootstraps

"So I say, Live by the Spirit and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature." Gal 5:16.  I'd read that a million times and had no idea how to live by the Spirit.  All it really means is let the Gospel have its way with you and you will not be able to do anything but become holy.  There is but one possible response to this understanding.:  Falling on my face at Jesus's feet, washing them with happy tears and saying ....."Thank you my Jesus.  Thank you."

The Unknowns and the "Knowns" of Pain

I've been thinking about suffering again.  (Its hard to expunge that thought from your head when you are sitting smack dab in the cauldron of pain.)...and my father sent me a link to Tullian Tchidivijian's blog for yesterday.  (Both my dad and I are currently reading Tullian's book, "Jesus+Nothing =Everyting" as you may have gathered from all the quotes I've posted from him.)

yiankriti on Photobucket

In this post by Pastor Tullian  on the topic of suffering. (I'll give this link also at the end of this post), he said  that we tend to either moralize or minimize suffering---and that neither response is a kind one to those who are suffering. Assigning or assuming guilt and trying to read into God's handling of one who suffers is not a fair assumption to make.  While unconfessed sin may lead to suffering, it is equally possible that it exists, "That God may be glorified" as Jesus spoke of the man born blind and also of Lazarus's death.  Sometimes God wants to work in bigger ways than are immediately apparent.  And these ways may not involve healing.  Sometimes just to see a person rejoicing in Jesus or merely being steadfastly faithful to their Lord, even under a heavy weight of suffering will bring God as much glory or more than a spectacular healing.

Pain that goes on and on day after day can make it tough to break into a grin and say "I'm GREAT!" when asked how we are feeling.  And to be told by well meaning people that they too have some pain or other, generally is not helpful...even though the intentions may be good. But you know what?? The knowledge that God in the form of Jesus suffered immensely more than I: that helps.  The knowledge that his is right here; right now in my suffering with me: that helps.

One of the hardest experiences I've had with pain was not even for my own pain.  My young daughter (in kindergarten at the time), fell off of the monkey bars in our back yard and sustained a really severe, displaced buckle fracture.  We sat with her pain in the ER, where they bandaged it and gave her a shot for pain....but then next day we had to go and see an orthopedic doctor.  And he told us that it had to be set.  He sent my husband from the room (told me men can't handle it), gave my daughter an injection to numb her (which it didn't.: She's her momma's girl) and then proceeded to grasp and twist and pull that poor little broken arm to the accompaniment of bloodcurdling screams from my little one.  She called out my name, "MOMMY MOMMY make him STOP!!" and my heart was broken. All I could do was to hold her tight to my chest and say, "It has to be done....but it will be over soon....and then you'll feel better."

Do you see where I"m going here?  There are things in us that are broken and it hurts to have them fixed.  God often has to hurt us to heal us....And sometimes we don't know why .  Sometimes it seems senseless and cruel and we think, "He is God for pete's sake! Couldn't he come up with an easier way??"  But  you know. He knows the best and the straightest paths.  He is working within the confines of a broken world filled with sinful people...So no, we do not know. We do not understand.  All we can do is to trust that HE does know. And he certainly does understand.  And we can be assured that on nights when I"m sitting on the edge of my bed in tears as this lady in the illustration is doing...God, my FATHER , is right there beside me...and he weeps with me as he assures me that soon, very soon...this pain will be no more.

Pastor Tullian in his blog, said that to moralize or to minimize suffering--our own or that of others, is a disservice.  I say, "AMEN"... He also said

Both the moralizing and the minimizing approaches are attempts to keep suffering at bay, to play God. It is safe to say that when our faith (or lack thereof ) feels like a fight against the realities of suffering instead of a resource for accepting them, we are on the wrong track.

 The fact is, the only sane means of dealing with suffering that I have found to be real are these:
1  Acknowledgement of the pain.
2. Hating the pain,
3  Understanding that, although it may make no sense to us, God has a purpose for that pain and will accomplish positive things in our spirit and character if we allow him.
4  Rejoicing in the full understanding that as we lie on our pallet of suffering....Jesus lies right there beside us.  As I told you when my hip was dislocated, Psalm 22 assured me that "All his bones were out of joint."  We do NOT serve some removed , distant God who has no internal language to explain or experience suffering.  He went before us in it and walks beside us in it.
5 And ultimately, suffering should be whetting our appetite for heaven; where it will no longer be a tool used by God or by Satan; where it will have completed its work in us--ground off our rough corners, and honed our faith to a rapier sharpness; and where we will receive all the reward coming to us for comforting others from the platform of our own pain in order to help them get through their own long nights and anguished questions.

The fact is, God does not usually give us a written manifesto as to why he is allowing our pain. Our only honest response can be confusion, questions....and ultimately, yielding to and a commitment to completing the race and a great need to lean on him for moment by moment strength.

I will close  with another quote by Tullian Tchidivijian.

We may not ever fully understand why God allows the suffering that devastates our lives. We may not ever find the right answers to how we’ll dig ourselves out. There may not be any silver lining, especially not in the ways we would like. But we don’t need answers as much as we need God’s presence in and through the suffering itself. The truth is that when it comes to suffering, if we do not go to our graves in confusion we will not go to our graves trusting. Explanations are a substitute for trust.

http://thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/tullian/2012/08/09/explanations-are-a-substitute-for-trust/

BOOK REVIEW: LOVING SOREN

I have decided from time to time to include some of the book reviews I've written for both Amazon and Goodreads.  Here is the first one:

Loving Soren by Caroline Coleman O'Neill

My rating: 3 of 5 stars


A very odd book.  poignant at times.  Sad at others.  And very frustrating at different points.  The author did not fall prey to the temptation to whitewash and deify her subject.  The flaws of both Soren and his woman are blatantly and openly portrayed.  The author even indulged in a bit of criticism of the characters - which in a "fiction" book is quite surprising...especially in a love story.

The book was good...but sad.  And at times it dragged...but when I was done with it, I felt that I had quite a good and honest understanding of the two protagonists.



View all my reviews

Still - Hillsong

Nothing Else Needed

In Christ alone my hope is found
He is my light, my strength, my song
This Cornerstone, this solid ground
Firm through the fiercest drought and storm
What heights of love, what depths of peace
When fears are stilled, when strivings cease
My Comforter, my All in All
Here in the love of Christ I stand

In Christ alone, who took on flesh
Fullness of God in helpless babe
This gift of love and righteousness
Scorned by the ones He came to save
‘Til on that cross as Jesus died
The wrath of God was satisfied
For every sin on Him was laid
Here in the death of Christ I live

There in the ground His body lay
Light of the world by darkness slain
Then bursting forth in glorious Day
Up from the grave He rose again
And as He stands in victory
Sin’s curse has lost its grip on me
For I am His and He is mine
Bought with the precious blood of Christ

No guilt of life, no fear in death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life’s first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
‘til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I’ll stand
Songwriters: Getty, Julian Keith; Townend, Stuart Richard;

We sang this song in church today.  And it is the 6th time and source of late that God is bringing home to me the GOSPEL ("Good News" lit.) ...the beauty and marvelous freedom in the fact that I need do nothing to add to how Christ has saved me, qualified me, freed me, accepted me, and forgiven me completely and solely by his work on the Cross.  My whole life I've struggled with the sense of not being good enough....of failing God.  And indeed I did fail him.  Daily.  Hourly.  But the marvelous, amazing, astounding truth is that God does not see those failures.  He sees rather the blood of Christ....paying for them before they were even committed.  He looks at me and he sees me, Cynthia, as complete and wholly righteous--he sees Christ in me.  And you know what?  The fullness of God dwelt in Christ...When we see the love of Christ, the passion of Christ on behalf of those sinners he came to free: we see God's love, God's passion.  And when we hear or read of the wonderful virtues of God listed for example in the Psalms....those are all describing Christ.  And that is what God sees reflected in, and covering me.

I've committed some horrific sins in my life.  Things that when I think of them could make me want to die in shame.  Tears are in my eyes now as I reflect on those and realize those sins are no longer mine.  Christ took them on to himself and paid for them with his own precious blood.  I need never cower before an angry God. I need never avoid talking to him because of my shame and failures.  All I need to do to put these things under that eradicating power of the blood, is to confess them and turn my back on them.  Corrie Ten Boom said once, that we bury those sins in the sea of God's forgetting and there is NO FISHING ALLOWED.  I do not have to keep wallowing in those sins.  I am not doomed to repeat them.  The shame of them is no longer mine.  It too, is Christ's.

I need to preach this Gospel to myself everyday because the power and freedom it gives me is what will allow God's purposes and work to be completed in me.  I will begin to look more and more like him.  And now, it is no longer with the intent of impressing him with my goodness....but merely reflecting and rejoicing in him and in the freedom I have in him...in the JOY I have in that freedom.  In that forgiveness; in that perfection; in that righteousness.  All this I own.  In Christ Alone.

 Sources: "Jesus+Nothing=Everything" by Tullian Tchividjian
"When I don't Desire God"- John Piper
"The Explicit Gospel"  Matt Chandler

In Christ Alone by Newsboys

After a Miserable Night

I was up for the majority of the night.  You know those nights: bedclothes twisted into knots, either too hot or too cold, blankets on the floor....window open, window shut, AC on, AC off.  Fan on, Fan off.  I got up finally at 4:00 with a throbbing headache and under-eye bags down to my jawline.  Today I am going out.  I have an MD appointment and I really really wanted to look good today.  I wanted the doc to to look at me and say "You're looking great!" (or even "good"!)   I've lost some weight since I last saw him and really want him to notice that so I chose clothes with some care. Then to address that face that stared at me forlornly in the mirror.  My roots were a decided gray contrasting with the rest of my hair....SO I decided at 5:00 to touch them up.  So I did that and it was a decided improvement. (I'll bet YOU couldn't use the word "decided" 3X in one sentence!) Now to address those baggy eyes.  Between cucumber slices and concealer, they were less noticeable.

Then I put on my makeup.  I did my eyes a little differently than usual and at first thought it was going to look horrible....but when I finished I decided it wasn't too bad.  Here is the final result:

Why am I telling you all this?  Partly because I  have nothing else to talk about.  But also because this morning in my blog on Spark People, I'd made a list of nice things I could do for myself to make me feel better when I'm feeling badly.   Touching up my roots and taking care with my makeup were not on that list....but I think maybe they should have been.  My friend, Vicki, always says, "Look Good; Feel Good!"  I've argued with that at times.  Most of the time, honestly, I care very little about how I look.  But maybe it is more important than I've given it credit as being.

One thing that has made a big difference in my "self -care" is the purchase of some new makeup and a train box to keep it in and a set of makeup brushes.  It's like painting a picture!  So I've been having some fun with my makeup....and I've made the discovery of Elf.com  (www.eyeslipsface.com) and there you can find all kinds of good stuff for very little money.  Get on their email list and you will get tons of sales and special deals.

Too often, when I want to feel better--I head to the refrigerator and obviously, that is NOT a good option...ultimately it is self defeating.   Of course when I"m here by myself all day, it may not be necessary to get dressed up or wear makeup....but I needn't look like a total slob either.  And there are other good things I can do on those days: workout., drink LOTS of water, take a shower, go for a walk....

I hope this has given you a nudge or some ideas.  It is not necessary to be vain.  It is not necessary to put on makeup the second I roll out of bed....but well, I think it kind of does matter how I look and how I present myself.  Maybe my efforts to "Look good, feel better" today will lead to my having a better day than my night last night.  I certainly hope so.

This is my 500th Post on this blog....and today we just crossed 25,000 visitors!
Thanks for hanging in with me through all the ups and downs.  I will keep plugging along.
Thank you for coming with me on the journey.

Rumors of Cleavage

you and I have history

I nary return.  your jet eyes plow into cloud bursts

Tear storms, short rain, intense pain.

You cannot begin a rumor without a scandal itching

to be told. 

The initial dagger, drawn lines, blood ties.

infection
 snake bitten apples

Christmas Eve’s rain dear treat.

License to kill.

Permission to smile.

Just

Do

not

bite

the

bait

Forcible Entry

house full of friends.
Empty - echoes of silence
chatter heavy eyed background noise.
door shuts behind - exodus
then the sounds begin
knocking tapping
let us in
ringing banging
we will come in
whether you let us or not
regardless.

FRAMED

I've been framed.
Time framed. Sea bound and see beyond the depths of understanding.  Wonder plummets at the heart of the arrow.

Come my children.
Come and see.
The egg with the crack...the  yolk-less joke. King of hearts.  broken men.  The wall's a tumbler broken glass carpet. Do you fathom the drift, the tide, get my drift.  wooden crosses have bleeding hearts.  The sense is in the perception.  However the reception is poor.  Radio head. Burning crosses.....and the king's horses. It cannot be done --that which was said.  My transmission is not received.

Is Anyone Out There?

I have been having hellish nights.  Full of fears, hallucinations and delusions.  Anxiety is raging like a rampant wild fire....eating up my insides, ashes rattle inside my head. 

I went out yesterday.  I went to church.  And pretty much lied through my teeth about how I am feeling.  People do not, cannot comprehend when I tell them what I am experiencing.  Best not to try.  Then a friend drove me to see my mom and dad.  My mom has been very sick and she's at the age where it leaves the question in your mind, "will I see her again?" when you leave.  I was so glad to be able to visit.  But was anxious to leave..."dancin'" my mom calls it, when I pace the floor or rock from foot to foot.

I'm on a high enough dose of my psychotropic that I'm having some involuntary motions.  I jiggle my leg, shake or clench and open my hand, rock from foot to foot...I feel over medicated.  Too anxious.  I don't know if the anxiety is from the Illness, the medicine, or the prednisone.  The thing is, the psychotropic med is not working well.  And if they had kept me in the hospital longer , they would have seen that and I would not be out here desperately trying to function and win a battle in which I am hopelessly outnumbered.

I hate being in the hospital.  But honestly, I needed the help.  And honestly---I wasn't there long enough to get the help I needed.   I don't think that I can be a patient in a hospital where my husband works.  While it was nice to see him at his lunch breaks....things got a little too political.  And  I was squashed right in the middle of the melee.  I really need to try to get into Carrier if I need to go again.  If I can talk them into allowing me to bring my O2 concentrator, then all will be well.

But naturally, I am praying that things will somehow magically resolve with out the hospital.  Maybe this day program I"m supposed to begin will be the key.  Maybe I will get help there to feel better.  I need a therapist. I need a psychiatrist more than once every two or three months.  At least until things calm down and I feel better.

I feel like no one is hearing me.

Are you a God-Worshiper?

I just read a FB status from a friend and she was pondering how we are to worship God above all things, but recognizing how many  times we all worship family, friends, home, money....  And that got me thinking (just as yesterday Joni Eareckson Tada's post got me thinking about what it means to take up our cross and follow Jesus....) "What does it mean to really worship God?"  It's easy to write, say or even shout out in church, "Jesus, I worship you!" But that troubles me...because well, frankly, it's too easy.  If there's one thing I know about my God, (other than his 24/7 goodness), it is that he rarely asks me to do anything that comes easily.  Nope.  My God is in the business of stretching me in every which direction so that there is more room in me to contain his immensity.  And stretching hurts.

So, Okay.  If worshiping God is more than shouting, whispering, or writing, "God, I worship  you," then what is it really?  Well, let's take a hint from the other things (idols) we worship.  First and foremost, we spend our money on that which is important to us...on the things or people we love.  And this is why it is impossible to worship Money and God at the same time.  One or the other has to go...or be subservient to the other.  So, I'm not just talking about dropping five bucks into the offering plate on Sunday.  I'm not even talking about  tithing.  Honestly, I don't tithe.  But I do give God whatever amount he asks me to give to those needs of his children that he puts in front of my face.  And I'll tell you, the amounts that God asks me to give leave me gasping....because I live on a very limited income...and God frequently asks me to give up to 40% of it away.  But, I have what I need, clothes, food, a home, and it's true: a pile of medical bills, LOL.  But I've never ever been in serious need....even when very mentally ill, unemployed and not even serving God back then.  I believe, wholeheartedly, that God met my needs, even as I spit into his face--to honor the money I tithed and gave him and his people in the first twenty years of my life.

What else do we do with the things we worship?  Well, they get healthy chunks of our time, don't they?  How much time do we give God?   Again, I don't mean sitting in church for an hour (or three, if you go to my church !)  I mean serving his people....the Body of Christ...serve them and you are serving him.  Give them time, and you are giving him time.  Also we are to demonstrate God's love to the lost people around us as well....Jesus poured out his blood for them, certainly we can do whatever possible to help them as well..  How much value do we place on his Word?  Do we spend hours in study? Do we meditate on it?  Do we memorize it?  Honestly, if you worship someone, you would really really find his words and thoughts important.  You would want to know what he likes and loves and you would want to become full of those qualities and characteristics so that he would find us attractive. (Do not get me wrong.  We cannot earn God's good favor.  But as an expression of his worth to us, it would make sense that we would seek to please him.  He is worthy.  Isn't he???)

The other thing I do with the idols I admit are in my life is that I make way for them.....I consult them or make room for them....If I have an appointment (or a soccer game, or a dinner meeting for your job,  or  if your family is going on a vacation...) I make room for it.  How often do I make room for  God?   And that can translate by giving him Time or Money, or "merely" acquiescence.  For example, if God places my nasty temper on my heart and lets me know it grieves him...do I take that as a serious injunction to change?  To make way?  If  I"m being belligerent or pigheaded and God nudges my spirit, do I concede?

It seems to me that these are really more solid tangible means of worshiping God...and they are more valuable than our lip-service.  Just look at what Jesus had to say to the religious elite of his day!  He did NOT hold much value in their expressions of "worship."  He wants us to step out in faith.  He wants us to obey.  And a little dancing never hurt anything either :)

(If you want another bit of conviction, take a look at Joni's definition of what it means to take up our cross daily and follow Jesus.)...http://www.joniandfriends.org/radio/5-minute/what-cross/#.UBxl61hakoU.facebook

Coming Back...

There is a feeling that comes when you have been really sick mentally for a time and have been hospitalized.  This feeling hits you like a leaden frying pan slam when you first walk into the glare of the sunlit sky "outside"...The feeling doesn't go away, but actually intensifies as you enter the shelter of your home.  I would call it, were I to have to give it a name, "Fragility."  I feel as though one harsh look could send me into screaming spasms....or perhaps my appendages just might decide to drop from my body...Or perhaps my head may just roll off my shoulders.

I sit down carefully, not wanting to disturb the "Cynthialessness" of my home.  It seemed to get along quite well without me.   All, that is, except for one little grey kitty who could only bear to give me the "how-dare-you-leave-me" cold shoulder for long enough to by-pass me and greet my husband first....since that initial cool reception, she has been my shadow...

I struggle for the first few days with intense anxiety.  Worries assail me.  Money worries.  Fears. Everything seems to be beyond me.  The simplest task brings an assault of insecurity and tenuousness.  The stack of a week's bills glared at me like an Elementary School principal for a full four days before I could summon the nerve to assess the damages....and even then only with the guidance and support of my case worker who visited today.

So what did I do?

Two things that required so  much courage that I can only attribute a sudden attack of momentary insanity to having committed to them. 

Today I resumed my interest and plans to make watermelon rind pickles.  I've only made pickles one other time, some 7 or 8 years ago, before we moved into this house.  It's quite a process and took me several hours, just to do the first stages...They will not be ready until Sunday night (today is Friday).  I found once it was too late to back out, that I had a question of major importance due to an unclear direction in the recipe....So I guessed and took a middle path so hopefully I won't be too far wrong.

The other "nervy" thing I did, is something that, when I think of it now, makes me want to move away and not leave a forwarding address.  I invited about 17 women over to my house next Tuesday morning to have tea and time for prayer.  Why is that nervy?  I have never once officially "had company" since ...well, ever.  My husband is as non-gregarious a person as could possibly be....and his habits have rubbed off on me.   I am terribly horribly uncomfortable in public places.  Even going to church or Bible Study is very hard for me.  (I am not uncomfortable normally in a public place amongst strangers...it's only among friends that I have trouble...Go figure).  So you see, this is a move of epic boldness.....

So if you've been invited to "Tea and Prayer" (I even made it a FB "event"), and you arrive to find the windows boarded and a "For Sale" sign in the yard, you'll know that I've totally overwhelmed myself....

The Injustice and Indignity of being a Mental Patient

Last night was a decided improvement over the one before...no fanged rats on my desk....not even any anxiety.  Yesterday I got my new computer pretty much up and running  I still haven't transferred all of my music onto it yet.   Maybe I'll work on that today.  And today I need to put laundry away and look at some of the mail that came while I was in the hospital.   But you didn' t come here to read about laundry or mail.

I've been pretty honest with people about where I was and what kind of a hospital I was in.  I don't really have anything to lose.  I hold no positions of responsibility or respectability that I have to live up to....and even if I did, I should not have to hide the truth from people.  I have a disease.  It's a disease that is not my fault.  It is a disease that cannot be cured but which can be managed.  Occasional hospitalizations are part of the picture.

I was truly miserable in the hospital.  I was paranoid and add that to the fact that none of the nurses there liked me very much...and you have a recipe for a really bad time.  And it was.  Everywhere I went I heard their back of hand whispers and saw their snide looks they exchanged over my head when they thought I wasn't looking.

My husband tells me that all of this is paranoia....that the nurses are so abused by many of the other patients that I was completely innocuous and not on their radar at all.  He said that a patient like me was a relief rather than an object of derision.  But I disagree--totally.  I didn't accept their crap lying down.  I knew how things should be done and I held them to that standard.  Once, when I felt powerless and ignored, I got my husband involved and one other time,  my father.  The nurses do NOT appreciate this.  They do not want to be questioned.  They do not want to be told what they should be doing.

I wore (as did all the patients) an ID band with a bar code on it which was scanned before the administration of any drug.  My ID bracelet came off (OK, I took it off because I was convinced that the bar code was the Mark of the Beast.)...and more than once my nurse (particularly my evening shift male nurse) would just take my bracelet and keep it in the med room so that when they needed to scan it, they could.

I take some heavy hitting pain meds. Well, it occurred to me that it would be very, very easy for this nurse to scan my bracelet and help himself to one of my PRN's (a pill taken only as needed).... So I asked for my bracelet back.  I met with resistance and I insisted.  It became necessary to tell them why.  My belief was not so much that this one particular nurse would do such a thing...just that it was possible that he could and as such I felt it was my duty to take care that no such abuse would occur.

Well, there was this African American evening female nurse who took great amusement in my concerns...and she sat there snickering and finally guffawing at my expense.

I lost it.

I got in her face and screamed at her.

I was so distraught that I still can't help but cry when I think of it.  It is horrible to be an object of mockery.  Didn't this nurse understand that possibly, just possibly, this was a symptom of my illness, this concern.?  If a cancer patient had a symptom such as incontinence, would it be right to laugh at them?  Would that not be horrifically cruel to do so?  How is it that people --even mental health professionals --cannot see that there is no difference.  I am not an object of derision. I am a person with an illness and I have a right to be treated with dignity and considerateness.  I have a right to be treated with kindness and respect.

And the knowledge and apprehension of this wrongness was more than I could bear.  It was unfair.  Unprofessional, and unethical.  People who cannot understand this....who cannot view a patient with compassion and courtesy, do not belong in their positions of authority in hospitals for the mentally ill.

Just my two cents.