Love, Failure, and Accepting Acceptance
02 Jun 2012 Leave a Comment
in The Growth of Wisdom Tags: Christian, encouragement, love, perspective, hope, gratitude, unconditional love, John 3:16, Amazing Grace, Ann Voskamp
“Sometimes it’s hard to look love square in the eye and accept the acceptance.”
A line from Ann Voskamp’s blog post I read this morning.
The line jumped out at me, stopped me, confronted me. Made me cry in recognition.
I am well-acquainted with that eye-sliding discomfort.
I’ve come a long way, God has brought me a long way. But it can still be hard to believe that I am loved unconditionally… to see it in front of me when I don’t want to believe it… to accept acceptance when I feel it’s undeserved because I mess up… to believe that my next failure won’t bring a turning away… that there are people, my husband and friends, who find me worth loving and accept me despite me, who wait when I pull away.
The next line:
“Is this why we turn from God?”
It starts with understanding who God is, and who I am in Christ. I have received more patient grace than I deserve, from my heavenly Father and from my loved ones. And I need to be better at giving it. I don’t want my kids to ever feel that I think they are a failure, to confuse discipline with rejection, to feel like they don’t measure up to my expectations. My words, and my tone, must be sweeter. I want my home to be a place of peace and comfort for all who live or visit here.
Recently I was talking with Jeff about how I just don’t understand unconditional love. It’s a sad admission. But I don’t think it’s uncommon. Unconditional love is not a common thing in this world.
If I want to express unconditional love to my children, husband, and others, I first have to believe that it is a real, possible thing.
For God so loved the world…
What I am beyond grateful for this morning is my husband’s unconditional love. I don’t make it easy.
What I am beyond grateful for this morning is my Father’s unconditional love… Amazing Grace.
Robins, Hands, and Empty Pursuits
24 May 2012 Leave a Comment
in The Growth of Wisdom Tags: Christian, encouragement, faith, focus, freedom, God, hope, lessons from nature, Luke 15, perspective, redemption, Scripture
“But when he came to his senses, he said, ‘How many of my father’s hired men have more than enough bread, but I am dying here with hunger! I will get up and go to my father…” Luke 15:17-18a, NASB
I held a terrified robin in my hands yesterday morning. Its feathers were so soft. Its legs and claws rough, but tiny. Its beak was hard, but inconsequential to my finger. Its body was SO LIGHT.
I was blessed to be used to extend mercy to one of God’s smaller creatures, and more blessed to receive another lesson on His mercy and grace, and reminders of the beauty of accepting the limits of humanity and embracing God’s limitlessness.
It was a gorgeous day. Warm for May. Beautiful blue skies with the high white clouds that are perfect for watching make shapes. But I was only vaguely aware of the fact of what for me was just about perfect weather. I was frustrated and cranky. Things in my classroom were not going as smoothly as I wanted them to.
I needed…air.
The robin had found its way into the lunchroom through a door propped open a few inches for airflow.
I wonder how long it took the poor thing to realize its mistake. The building was not a place it wanted to be. There was nothing for it within those walls. What had brought it through the opening in the first place? Was it following a misguided but tasty-looking bug? Was it curious to see what it was missing on the other side of the door? Or just not paying close enough attention to the difference between the outside where it belonged and the inside where it did not?
How long did it pursue the false promise of freedom offered by the window? So sure it knew how to be free, so sure of what it could see, it couldn’t comprehend that what it saw was not the path to freedom it desired, that what it sought lay in the opposite direction.
I can’t imagine how I must have appeared to it. Large and unknown, unknowable. I was a threat to its pursuit of freedom. A threat, not the answer. But unlike the little bird, I knew the reality of its situation. I could see that the route it chose led nowhere. I could see the only route to freedom. I knew that its only hope was to give up its hopeless, mad bursts of flight toward the lie. I knew that if it didn’t stop, it would kill itself against the unforgiving glass. It had to give up what only looked like the way of freedom. On its own, it was too small, too ignorant, and too weak to gain the sky.
But it persisted.
How many times are we like that bird? It’s a blessing when we look around and realize we are wildly off-course. We pursued something we thought was worthwhile. We were missing out on something that seemed pleasant or rewarding. We stopped being mindful of our choices.
How often do we chase things that look good to us, that promise us freedom, but can’t deliver? How often do we resist God, the only One who can see the big picture, the only way to find the freedom we so desperately seek? We don’t want Him to take away our “freedom,” the freedom that only results in pain and death.
As I crossed the room, the robin once again threw itself against the window, so hard that it knocked loose feathers. I cringed at the unmistakable sound of a small, bony, feathered body striking glass. It continued its close-range beating of wings and beak as I approached.
Arrested, its first response was to bite me. How dare I hold it carefully in my hands, keeping its wings to its sides so it could no longer bash itself in futility?!?
How often do we get angry at God like that? How often do we resent His omniscience, His omnipotence, His ability to know what is good for us better than we can? How about the necessity to admit we are wrong, that we NEED Him, that we can’t save ourselves?
The difference between me and the helpless bird is so much smaller than the difference between me and God. His ability, knowledge, understanding, and vision are so far beyond mine that to compare the difference between us to the difference between me and the bird is almost laughable. But one of the amazing things about Him is that He can use even simple things like this to reveal more of Himself to us. And He delights to do so when we stop the mad beating of our wings long enough to listen.
Compassion Sunday is April 22
13 Apr 2012 Leave a Comment
in Uncategorized Tags: child sponsorship, Compassion International, hope, love, poverty
Want to know more? Check out my Compassion Sunday page!
Getting Beyond this Moment
12 Apr 2012 Leave a Comment
in Depression, The Growth of Wisdom Tags: Christian, depression, encouragement, faith, freedom, hope, love, Romans 7, Scripture, transformation, Truth
There are times I don’t feel very loving, that I don’t feel at all loving. When it is difficult to be kind to the people around me. When God seems distant and unreal, and I go beyond struggling to understand how to love Someone who is infinite and invisible, to feeling mostly unmotivated by God’s love and His sacrifice on my behalf. When I have to choose to grit my teeth and choose obedience when I don’t feel like it. I don’t always manage it. I am unkind and harsh. My thought life is mean and selfish, and old habits seem inviting. Temporary relief doesn’t sound like such a bad idea, the key word being RELIEF. Beautiful Truth seems cold, harsh, unbelievable. I long for something tangible to hold on to for a moment. Or at least a meaningless, amusing, diversion.
It’s a cold, dark, hard place. A black marble box… A holding cell before being plunged into the dark, hopeless place in my head. Depression. But not yet as bad as it can get. I can still think that it is not completely impossible for things to get better, just highly unlikely. I hate it here, but still make choices and coddle thoughts that imprison me. I crave the familiar bondage of the “freedom” I pursued while a friend and dupe of the world. Sometimes its misery seems easier than the vulnerability of living in relationship.
I need new habits. I need a way to better remind myself of Truth, reality. It is so true that when we most need Scripture, it can be most difficult to make the effort to seek it out and then not only read it, but really take it in.
I have new habits. But I need firmer God-honoring options when I’m not so much desperate as sliding beyond caring. Where my feelings, and lack of feelings, cloud my vision of what is important and good. How small and selfish. I know.
And now as I think of how strong my “flesh” is today – and feel like a failure, so why bother trying – I am reminded of Paul.
I’m not alone in feeling at war withing myself. I’m not crazy when I’m offended by my own thoughts and behavior, or when part of me thinks it’s ridiculous when I make decisions to “be good.” My flesh is not completely, constantly crucified…but Christ is bigger, stronger, sufficient in, through, and beyond my lack.
Light is shining. Walls are falling. I can once again see beyond myself.
I wasn’t expecting this to be so effective. I just had to write.
Maybe you needed to know today that you are not alone in your struggle. If it helps, I’ll use some of my restored hope for you…
So Far, So…OK
27 Dec 2011 Leave a Comment
in Depression Tags: 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, depression, encouragement, grace, hope, Scripture, suffering, Truth
For those of you who found your way here, identified with my experience, and have come back looking for more hope, I apologize for taking so long. I’ve started several posts, but with one thing and another…
I’d love to be able to tell you that everything is wonderful. Or better yet, that although I’m still not caught up with things, I’m not overwhelmed, that my head has been on straight all the time and I’ve been joyously at peace, that I was excited preparing for my daughter’s birthday and Christmas. But that wouldn’t be truth. Although I am still relieved to have been delivered from the labyrinth of the dark part of my mind, that my heart doesn’t feel so shrunken and empty, that I can again hope and believe…I still struggle. The sunless hours, the cold, and, well, the normal demands of daily life seem to conspire against me. I don’t want to use my blog to whine, but if you’re struggling, and I describe only victory, how can I let you know that you’re not alone? I can’t encourage you if you think I don’t know where you’re coming from. Although it is important to seek professional help if you need it, I believe the most important thing is to seek God the Father through His Son Jesus Christ. If you know the Lord as Savior, don’t deny the reality of your problem or ignore the spiritual ramifications.
There’s no shortage of stressors this time of year. How are you dealing with yours?
I crashed again about a week ago. I couldn’t see my many blessings, couldn’t believe there was real good in my life or that there ever would be. But I didn’t slip all the way over into…wherever it is I get trapped in my head. One thing I did that was helpful was interrupting the repetitive negative self talk. I frequently had to tell myself to stop thinking. As before, I would get hopeless thoughts stuck in my head. They would play over and over and over. I lacked the ability to “argue” against them. I believed them, but could remember that how I feel doesn’t change Truth. Since I couldn’t find any “positive self talk” with which to replace the other, I had to make an effort to make myself stop, to short circuit the vicious cycle, or maybe downward spiral would be more apt. A negative thought given attention leads to a negative attitude, and more negative thoughts that get more difficult to deny. Until they are all I can hear.
It’s subtle at first, when hopelessness seeps into the heart. I invite it when I choose ingratitude, resentment, annoyance; when I choose to focus on the temporal. It undermines and erodes the good until the good is submerged, so far vanished beneath the murk that I can only believe it has been washed away…or was never really there. To believe in good, to believe that there is a Sovereign God Who chooses to invite us into intimate relationship with Him seems irrational. Although the lie is unpleasant, it is tempting in its “reality” and seeming rationality.
Whatever may be going on in your life, don’t let it distract you from the reality – the Truth – of the Hope of this season. People, feelings, and circumstances change, but God does not. Christmas is a time to remember and celebrate His greatest gift. It wouldn’t have been worth celebrating as a holiday without Good Friday and Easter. God’s Son didn’t come here just to share in our experience. He didn’t come to set a good example for moral behavior. He sacrificed Himself on our behalf. And the acceptability of His sacrifice was verified by His resurrection.
Have you accepted the free gift of His death on your behalf and experienced the freedom found in Him? That is my greatest hope for you. It’s not a magic cure-all, but if you’re looking for fulfillment in lesser things, you will continue to be left empty and lost.
It’s your choice. Do you continue to choose your own way, or surrender to the One Who made You and knows you better than you know yourself? It’s not an invitation to pain-free, thought-free, effort-free existence. It’s being brought into an eternal relationship with the Creator and Sustainer of the universe, and a life of being remade in the image of His Son. I may not always seem to be the best example of the freedom, peace, and joy found in Christ, but He has made the all the difference in my life. Like Paul, I may long to be free of particular weaknesses but it is in them that I find true strength, HIS strength. Also like Paul, I know that I can’t boast in what I’ve accomplished, or how I’ve pulled myself out of the mire, it is only in Him that I can boast. It is only His grace that has brought me to this point in my life – even when I wouldn’t, even when I couldn’t, acknowledge it.
Trust Him. After all, what do you have to lose?
Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
II Corinthians 12:7b-10
A New Perspective, A New Beginning
03 Dec 2011 3 Comments
in Depression Tags: Christianity, depression, encouragement, faith, focus, hope, perspective, suffering, Truth
I’ve been wondering about this post, where it will go and how it will conclude. My world has been upside down, though nothing really changed. It is, however, changing now, and that is the light at the end of the tunnel.
I have been forced to admit that I suffer from depression. I know not everyone reading this will understand. Those who reduce depression to spiritual deficiency will judge me. I can live with that. Others will sympathize, or even empathize. For those of you who have been where I’m leaving, and those who will find themselves there again or for the first time, no matter how alone you feel, you never are.
If only it was possible to believe this when the darkness descends, wells up, and permeates every corner of your mind and heart.
So, how does someone live through numerous bouts of depression, earn a BS in Psychology, and reach the age of 38 without realizing she has a problem? Maybe the easier question to answer would be “What was different this time?”
To start, there was no particular trigger. Nothing I could blame. As I mentioned before, nothing changed. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.
It doesn’t surprise me when I have difficult days in autumn, when I get “blue” when the weather turns colder and the days get shorter. It doesn’t even surprise me when I feel like I’m dying. But, generally, I know that I am blessed, that there are many good things in life, and I can relatively quickly regain the knowledge that I have a purpose when I get to feeling out-of-place. I’m not surprised when the normal monthly cycle of shifting hormone levels makes me moody. I’m not surprised when not eating regularly or drinking enough water saps my energy, makes me sad, and leaves me confused and irrational.
We’re human. We experience a variety of emotions. It’s not abnormal to feel sad sometimes, to get weepy and emotional. Frustration and anger are not extraordinary. Given the pace and pressures of life, feeling overwhelmed at times is natural. It may not be right, but it is normal to let these emotions affect our behavior and interactions with others. It’s even natural to let these emotions get out of control at times. It can be gratifying to allow emotion to guide our behavior, but it’s childish.
So, it was a typical autumn. I was hating the chill in the air and resenting the loss of the green leaves. I was frustrated by my inability to adjust to my new schedule, and even more tired and sad as darkness held back the daylight when I had to force myself out of bed in the morning and grasped it away by dinnertime. I was overwhelmed by all the things we didn’t get done over the summer and angry that once again we’d finished so little of the much-needed renovations during good weather. My hormones started waging war on my body and brain.
It was rough. It was unpleasant – and, at times, so was I. It’s not a place I enjoy. I know it’s unhealthy. It does affect my day-to-day activities and interactions, and my ability to enjoy the usual things is impaired. But it’s manageable. How difficult a day becomes is pretty much directly related to my choices – where I choose to focus and how I choose to react. I can’t completely regulate my mood, but I can make things less difficult. It can be a grind, and I may doubt, but, ultimately, I still have faith and the ability to believe Truth. There are times when it’s difficult to remember that there have been, and there will be, better days, but those times pass.
This is not the first time that the bottom has fallen out. But this time, there was nothing specific to blame. I was back in that place where all I could believe was that nothing could be better, but I lacked a causal event. Something, or someone, had to be at fault. It must be that I just couldn’t take going into another winter with so little accomplished in and around the house…but we’re still making progress, and more quickly in some areas. It must be my husband’s fault…but he was only as human as he’d ever been.
When I could get out of my head I had to admit that it wasn’t a matter of what was going on outside of me. Nor was it the result of a choice I’d made.
I’ve had to accept that there are times that something beyond my control happens, a catastrophic glitch in my brain. I would have to guess that it’s a chemical imbalance. And, in a way, I lose (at least part of) my mind. Just to be clear, I am NOT saying that I am not responsible for my actions during these times. But I lose access to neural connections that allow me to hope.
I think it’s a small taste of hell – no joy, no light, no pleasure, no fellowship, no hope, and the feeling that God has no place for me.
I don’t know if I could have survived this last bout of hopelessness if it weren’t for my kids, my feeling of obligation to them, and my lack of trust in anyone’s ability to raise MY kids that way I think they should be raised. I just wanted to get them grown so I could die. And when I could see how little I was able to give them in that state, I felt completely purposeless.
Was there something “worse” this time that made it harder, that made it last so long? I don’t think so. I’ve realized something important this week – I’m no longer self-medicating. I’ve broken the enslaving cycle of seeking new sexual relationships, flirtations, and fantasy – and realized they were in large part coping mechanisms. I may not have been ingesting chemicals, but I wasn’t using men only to feel validation, pleasure, and excitement, but to adjust my brain chemistry. I’ve long understood my physical and mental sexual habits as temporary fixes, and have added a new and integral aspect to my understanding.
I’m not quite sure what to do with the insight of this week. I have long been someone who avoids medication, and given my atypical reactions (and overreactions), I would hesitate to seek drug therapy.
For the first time in my life I feel like I am standing with a foot in each of my worlds. In the past, good times were good; it was difficult for me to remember how bad I felt when I got out of whack – and vice versa. At this moment, I haven’t yet regained the wholeness I was living in, but something switched on or off Sunday afternoon; I no longer feel beyond hope. For some of you reading this it may make sense when I say that I can see real color again.
It is so true that when we least feel like being in the Word, it is the most important. Although it is very dangerous to reduce mental health issues to the spiritual, it cannot be denied that there is always a spiritual aspect – as with EVERYTHING else in life. On Sunday, several people became aware that something was not right, and several people began praying. It’s not a coincidence that Sunday is when the worst of the darkness finally lifted. And one day this week, when I came home from school and started crashing again, my husband’s act of faith, humility, and obedience to pray for me, and speak aloud in prayer the words I’d lost, were used by our Awesome God to bring me back up where I could see and stand. Jeff believed when I couldn’t and had the faith and grace to act. I am grateful. And I know that I am blessed.
