Time to Write Again...

 

stay tuned. :)

Everything that Hinders

It's funny (in a not-so-funny way) how Satan knows our weaknesses.  He knows the weak places.  He knows how to plant the old thoughts so that we might feel the depths of defeat.  He knows how to plant the thoughts of entitlement that make us feel cheated with what we have.  With what's been given. We become blind to blessing. 

Failure, the enemy speaks over us at every turn. 

In short, he knows how to ambush us.  He knows how to dangle just the right carrot in front of our faces that might look so appealing by the world's standards.  Temptation.  Oh, temptation.  Just when things were feeling smooth.

Throw off everything that hinders. I keep hearing it.  Over and over. 

When the path begins to feel long and tedious, sometimes it just feels easier to take my own path.  Drown out the truth.  Do my own thing.  But I know full well where that gets me.  Every time. 

Throw off everything that hinders.  Again. 

If you think about it, the warfare and the struggle are really a sight problem.  At least they start that way.  We lose sight of the goal.  The prize.  We take our gaze off of our Rescuer.  We begin comparing our lives to the lives of others.  We begin to think we deserve more.  We want the shiny things the world has to offer.  All of the sudden, it's not about God.  It's not about others.  It's about us.  And we've missed it.  We've missed the whole point. 

"...Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.  And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus..."  Hebrews 12: 1-2

This is the conclusion I continue coming to.  Throw off everything that doesn't work.  Everything that is not good.  It doesn't mean be perfect.  It doesn't mean never make mistakes.  But gosh, it means open up your eyes to what is good.  Blessing.  Take hold of it.  Do not waste energy on the things of this world.  Be thankful for what is now.  Because it is in the thankfulness--in having a heart full of thanks--where blessing resides. 

Ashes for Beauty

In general, scars are not thought of as attractive. 

And why should they be?

I have some scars.  I think I have a chicken pox scar on my face left over from childhood.  Then there's that little one I notice on my knee.  I've now had two laparoscopies  (one this summer and one ten years ago)--each of which left their marks.  I remember after my first surgery, my mom said something that surprised me: "Be proud of your scars!" 

Be proud of my scars? What?

We aren't usually taught to be proud of the not-so-lovely.  We want to hide the less-than-perfect. 

My mom is so right.  Be proud of your scars.  Scars are proof of life. 

Same with emotional scars.  They are proof that a life has been lived. Those are the really scary ones to let people see.  And yet, they are the key to our human connections.  So maybe, just maybe, there is beauty in the ugly. 

Even knowing this, we (I) still gravitate toward the allure of perfection.  Even though we know that we know that we KNOW it's a facade.  We still want to attain it.  Capture it.  Vulnerability isn't sexy.  Or is it?

I know that when someone appears to have it "all together,"  I'm less likely to feel comfortable with them.  I'm certainly less likely to have any sort of real connection with them.  So, in my opinion, vulnerability is a sure sign of strength in another.  And that is more beautiful to me about a person than any other single thing. 

In Christ, everything is opposite from what the world teaches us.  It's an upside-down kingdom.  The last will be first.  The greatest must first become the least.  So maybe there is beauty in what is first thought ugly.  Maybe scars are actually the most beautiful thing about a person.  Maybe we shouldn't work so hard to hide them.  Maybe we should really take Him at his word when he says he will trade ashes for beauty. 

Yes, I have scars.  Everyone does.  And I wouldn't change one. 

Restless

I have a restless heart.  

Life sometimes becomes this mundane cycle.  Same old.  When this happens, i like to throw a bit of excitement into the mix.  This could explain why i've had  more than a few relationships.  Maybe why i've considered moving everywhere.  Anywhere.  My heart craves adventure.  Which is something i hadn't realized about myself until recently.  

A restless heart can get you into trouble.  It can make you make the fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants kind of decisions that you sometimes pay for later.  It can make you desire and somehow believe that you deserve fun.  It can make you believe that fun is what it's all about.  

Here's the thing.  Restlessness can be a motivator for change and that can certainly be a positive thing.  But for the restless heart--the heart that lacks peace--the easy thing to do is change.  Go!  Do!  Take steps!  It seems to me that the more difficult thing to do is stay where you are and trust.  Trust that this is exactly where I need to be.  At this exact time.  It's the stillness that i often avoid.  We are part of a culture that praises the going.  The doing.  MORE is better.  More!  More!  More!  Keep going.  What if standing still in the midst of the noise is more brave than the going.  More brave than the doing.   

(I hope that it goes without saying that I'm not saying always stay--always stay in that unhealthy relationship or that job that uses none of your talents, abilities, or gifts.  I'm just saying that sometimes, the answer is stay.  Sometimes it's the harder thing.) 

I find myself in an interesting season of life.  The restless seeps in through the cracks and makes me want to run in every direction.  Escape.  Go.  Change.  Leave.  Numb.  Sometimes i channel the restless into healthy things.  Road trips.  Discovering new places.  Trying something new.  But allow me to be real with you---sometimes i channel it in less healthy ways.  

To me, real courage is sitting still through the discomfort of not knowing the future and choosing to trust God.  Trust that this is the place for me right now.  He know's what He's doing.  

Everything is as it should be.  

Without the restless heart, i wouldn't know my desperation for resting in God.  That's the only place i get true rest.  That's the only place my soul knows real peace.  It's the only place where i remember that it's not up to me.  

 

Magic

It almost feels like magic.

When a woman is seen.  Not looked at.  But really seen for the first time by someone.  Discovered.  She might have known him for years or minutes.  But one day he looks up at her and she can tell in his eyes that he gets her.  He appreciates what she's about.  He sees the things that others overlooked.  She may have said something silly or something authentic and heart-felt.  It doesn't matter.  But just in that moment, he caught a glimpse of her.  She was different than he thought. 

And it wasn't what she wore or how she looked.  In fact, he quite liked that her nail polish was chipped and her hair a bit messy.  He liked the not-so-perfect. 

He liked the real.  It had taken her a long time to be okay with the real.  To be okay with her humanness.  To not try so desperately to cover up truth with a phony mask. 

And just because he saw her, didn't mean he was "it."  No.  It just meant that he saw her.  And she loved that.  It made her feel that she was special.  Not ordinary.  Known.  And perhaps even a step further--accepted.  She savored the moment.  She wanted to drink it in.

Isn't that what we're all looking for? That person that sees you for you and your depth and your words and your heart?  The person that says "I see the things you'd like to count as imperfections, and I call them beautiful.  They make you, you."  We so desire to be known by another.  Might as well be honest about it. 

This is the part where I would normally interject that we do, in fact, have someone's attention.  (And maybe I will...) We have the Creator's attention.  It is worth saying.  He finds us captivating.  I'm sure of it.  He cares.  He sees.  Truly.  But I also think it's okay to acknowledge that we want the same of our most significant human relationships.  I don't find anything wrong with wanting that.  With saying it out loud.

I've experienced this moment of being seen.  Well, at least I think I have.  I call moments like these "magic."   I say they are magic, I suppose, because they are so pure in essence and yet overwhelming enough that they do not seem real. 

This is just something I've been thinking about and thought I would share.  I think we have to treasure the purest and simplest of moments when we are seen for who we are.   No matter how few or far between these moments may be. We cannot lose sight of them or lose hope of the magic to come. 

Be Expectant

So.  Maybe you've noticed I haven't been so active on the ol' blogosphere in recent months.  I don't really have a good reason for that, other than I've just been experiencing "writer's block."  Well, that's probably not the real reason.  It's really that when I don't want to feel, I don't write.  Can't write.  Ick.  I have about 50 drafts of blog entries that I have started and then stopped because I even lost interest in what I was saying.  (Which probably isn't a great sign.) It didn't feel authentic.  And if it doesn't feel authentic--what's the point?

 It's been quite a year.  I've lost a job.  And gained one.  I've moved.  I've changed churches.  I've lost some friends.  And gained some.  And reconnected with old friends.  I don't think I've been in a place where I've wanted to write about any of it (even though most of the changes turned out to be good.) I think through the ups and downs of the last year, my hope became unsteady.  I didn't want to face it. 

 

Truthfully, I think I've been in a bit of a haze this past year.  I thought I was self aware.  And maybe there were moments that I truly was.  But for the most part, I was not present in my own skin.   Certainly not in my own life.  I decided to numb the feelings.  Numb the fear of not knowing the next step.  Numb the not feeling worthy of anything good to come my way. 

 

I saw the quote pictured below the other day and just loved it.  When things are not going so peachy, our hopes can be so easily dashed.  In the dry seasons if life, I find that it is more difficult to be expectant of blessing.  It's more difficult to look for God to work. Those are the times I have to take a time out and remind myself that if God is who He says He is...then He will do what He says He will do.  

Sometimes faith is wavering.  Distant.  I think that's normal.  Well, I hope that's normal.  But what I think I have to do is start making a concerted effort to show up for my own life.  Every day.  Because this is it.  I think that for a long time I was just waiting.  Waiting for my life to begin.  It turns out, it already has.  This is all part of it.  The not knowing.  The uncertainty.  The doubts.  The hopes.  The fears.  The disappointments.  The joys.  The mistakes.  It all gets you to the next right place.  Not so long ago, a wise friend of mine said something that seemed so poignant and yet effortless.  He told me that it takes every ounce of your past and present to get you to your future.  I whole-heartedly believe that he's right. 

 

So in the meantime, I will keep trying to trust.  Because this is my life.  I want to show up for it.  And I want to see how my story continues to unfold. 



 

Grace is Wild

Sometimes there's no more room for anger.  Sure, we can always make more room.  But I've decided it's had taken up enough of my days. 

Not so long ago, there came a day when I decided to open up my clenched fists and take a chance. 

Enough. 

Long enough.  It's been long.  Enough. 

So, I've been learning about grace as it pertains to God.  He gives it freely.  Which then begs the question--why can't I give it freely also?

Well, the answer is...I can.  I can choose to say enough.  Enough anger.  Enough punishing.  Enough wishing things were different.  No more. 

I'm talking about my Dad. 

I know about forgiveness.  I've taught the basics on forgiveness to clients I've had in the past.  I know that harboring unforgiveness only hurts the unforgiving.  It does not hurt the person you feel has wronged you. 

But I think the older that I get, the more I realize that our parents are human, too.  Just like me.  They mess up.  Just like me. 

I've decided to let go of many things in my life over the last few months.  After letting go of one toxic relationship, it spurred me on to keep going.  Keep releasing what is no longer good.  Which brought me to my Dad.  I decided that I will let go.  Of past hurts.  Of disappointments. 

That's not it.  That's not all that grace covers.  It doesn't purely mean forgiveness. 

It means choosing to love. Despite the hurt.  To choose to love my Dad because he is my Dad.  To show up on Father's Day.  To write him a letter letting him know all the things I appreciate about him.  This was my attempt at trying Grace on for size.  Our God gives it so freely.  Who am I to withhold it from others?