Today, I hauled out my Beth Moore study, literally lugging it onto my bed with grunting, to cram myself back to this faith study, and couldn't muster up the inward courage and energy to get it open and apply it to myself.
And God gave me this Word instead: "Abide."
Abide. That is all I have to do today.
"Abide in me." John 15 (KJV).
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Statistics.
In the last month of more, most of the anger within me has dissipated. By God's grace. Truly, an unbelievable, undeniable work of the Holy Spirit.
But if one more person quotes to me a statistic about love and marriage and remarriage after death, I will hurt them. I will.
How is that going to make me feel better? How is that going to offer compassion to my pain? How does that all-of-a-sudden make things explainable?
My life is not a statistic. My family is not a statistic. My family is a bond of broken humans. My family, my life, my dad, are not statistics.
So do not use statistics on me. Never use statistics on me. Never use statistics to rationalize any of this.
I don't know how many people since April have told me, "Well, research shows that most men remarry within a year, especially if they had a good marriage."
But since the first time in April, until still today in February, and the million times in between, NOT ONE time has this statement been a gift or support in this time of grief.
Because, really, people, how is hearing that supposed to help? How is hearing that, and you saying that, walking with me in and through my pain? My pain can't be marginalized by statistics and numbers and quotes and your where-with-all. So stop it, stop using statistics on me.
Besides, lets be honest here, and cut right to the core... did Jesus ever use statistics to heal the hurting?
NO!
Instead, when he saw the crowds, "He had compassion on them" (Matthew 9:36).
So have compassion on me, on my family. Have compassion, not quotes or statistics.
But if one more person quotes to me a statistic about love and marriage and remarriage after death, I will hurt them. I will.
How is that going to make me feel better? How is that going to offer compassion to my pain? How does that all-of-a-sudden make things explainable?
My life is not a statistic. My family is not a statistic. My family is a bond of broken humans. My family, my life, my dad, are not statistics.
So do not use statistics on me. Never use statistics on me. Never use statistics to rationalize any of this.
I don't know how many people since April have told me, "Well, research shows that most men remarry within a year, especially if they had a good marriage."
But since the first time in April, until still today in February, and the million times in between, NOT ONE time has this statement been a gift or support in this time of grief.
Because, really, people, how is hearing that supposed to help? How is hearing that, and you saying that, walking with me in and through my pain? My pain can't be marginalized by statistics and numbers and quotes and your where-with-all. So stop it, stop using statistics on me.
Besides, lets be honest here, and cut right to the core... did Jesus ever use statistics to heal the hurting?
NO!
Instead, when he saw the crowds, "He had compassion on them" (Matthew 9:36).
So have compassion on me, on my family. Have compassion, not quotes or statistics.
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Doritos.
"Everything is better with Doritos."
We didn't know our union in this until I arrived at Myrtle Beach in November with a bag of Doritos -- regular, nacho-style, Doritos. I simply threw them in the grocery bag as a simple smile to myself, or "simple pleasure" as I now label them, but found very quickly that I wasn't the only one escaping the life of "no Doritos, healthy living" those days.
We had packed our own groceries, our bags, our supplies, and headed as roommates to Myrtle Beach for a super-fun time of beach walking, coffee drinking, magazine reading, hot tub sitting weekend at a parent's Timeshare. I pulled out the Doritos, and all hell broke loose. It was probably the first thing to go, as we all ate handful after handful of this delicious delicatessen. It was the unity bond that none of us knew we had -- our love and passion for Doritos.
I have a picture of me and dad and Jaxson in the back of the boat this summer, climbing our fingers through a bag of Doritos, and Jaxson's face covered from mouth corner to mouth corner with crumbly cheese shards. It was again, an uncovering of this bond we didn't know. Our love for Doritos.
So today, when everything was bizzurk and went exactly how I did not plan it, my roommate said:
"Here's have some Doritos. Everything is better with Doritos."
And it was true. We laughed and smiled.
No matter what was wrong with my car and could or could not be fixed, or what time space worked to get it back there, or who could bring me there. Or what errands got fixed or didn't. Or whether the start of Garrett's day at Preschool was good or bad. Or if a friend reacted to my phone call compassionately or not. Or if I made a great dessert or if it became a lame 9x13... Or, if I thought I was finally ready to at least get one thing done for good that morning and walked out the door to the back steps of the basement... and yes, the recipe box in my arms fell out and toppled down every single one of those 17 stairs, exploding index cards on each... and I just finally leaned my head against the stairwell wall in comic relief and threw up my hands laughing for five minutes before re-walking into my home... by which way I laughed and explained what had happened to my roommate who was making lunch and turned to me and said her great statement...
Everything is better with Doritos.
We didn't know our union in this until I arrived at Myrtle Beach in November with a bag of Doritos -- regular, nacho-style, Doritos. I simply threw them in the grocery bag as a simple smile to myself, or "simple pleasure" as I now label them, but found very quickly that I wasn't the only one escaping the life of "no Doritos, healthy living" those days.
We had packed our own groceries, our bags, our supplies, and headed as roommates to Myrtle Beach for a super-fun time of beach walking, coffee drinking, magazine reading, hot tub sitting weekend at a parent's Timeshare. I pulled out the Doritos, and all hell broke loose. It was probably the first thing to go, as we all ate handful after handful of this delicious delicatessen. It was the unity bond that none of us knew we had -- our love and passion for Doritos.
I have a picture of me and dad and Jaxson in the back of the boat this summer, climbing our fingers through a bag of Doritos, and Jaxson's face covered from mouth corner to mouth corner with crumbly cheese shards. It was again, an uncovering of this bond we didn't know. Our love for Doritos.
So today, when everything was bizzurk and went exactly how I did not plan it, my roommate said:
"Here's have some Doritos. Everything is better with Doritos."
And it was true. We laughed and smiled.
No matter what was wrong with my car and could or could not be fixed, or what time space worked to get it back there, or who could bring me there. Or what errands got fixed or didn't. Or whether the start of Garrett's day at Preschool was good or bad. Or if a friend reacted to my phone call compassionately or not. Or if I made a great dessert or if it became a lame 9x13... Or, if I thought I was finally ready to at least get one thing done for good that morning and walked out the door to the back steps of the basement... and yes, the recipe box in my arms fell out and toppled down every single one of those 17 stairs, exploding index cards on each... and I just finally leaned my head against the stairwell wall in comic relief and threw up my hands laughing for five minutes before re-walking into my home... by which way I laughed and explained what had happened to my roommate who was making lunch and turned to me and said her great statement...
Everything is better with Doritos.
It is true. Laughter is good for the soul. And,
Everything is better with Doritos.
~~
By the way, I'm pretty sure at this point, I could have been a millionaire and won the "Best Superbowl Ad" with this one.... ;)
A Follow-Up.
So I got an email from a friend who was responding to the fact that I wasn't sleeping well. He asked for a follow-up. What do you say to that, in times like these?
So I wrote him back, only this, and as short and detached as it looks:
Whew... how do I put this in short...
My last week:
Got phone calls from family on Monday & Tuesday
Booked a Flight Tuesday Night
Booked a Rental Car Wednesday
Flew Out Thursday Morning
Met my family in Court
Saw the man who killed my mother one last time, and him sentenced to prison
Wandered the streets of Grand Rapids and West Michigan alone Thursday afternoon
Stayed at a friends house, conversed with her and her husband
Friday had breakfast with my dad, thought I saw a small piece of redemption
Went through my mom's stuff for six hours, including her wedding dress with my sisters and aunts
Flew out Friday Night, lots of airport delays
Got back in Charlotte at 2am
Got a phone call from dad at 8am that he gave her a diamond the night before (with no warning to anyone... and, did I mention I saw him that day and went to breakfast with him and court was the day before...?)
Whew... so wow... hows that for a follow-up?
:)
God's grace is good, it covers me.
So, there you have it. I know there are people who are close to me who read this blog, who have no idea. I just don't know how to say it or put it in words, or go on the phone and tell the story and again and again. I can't do it; its emotionally draining.... And my self-protection yields me to not add more conversations to the rumor mill, the gossip pond, the stirring of hurt and manipulation that precedes these events and collection of conversations. Where is the line of gossip and fact?
But all that to say, I also add, a small smile from a note I wrote in my journal this morning:
My roommate Marilyn came in Saturday night and set two sets of tulips on my chest and said, "Here's to the first day of 'It Can't Get Any Worse Than This.'" I smiled and choked back tears of emotion at her thoughtfulness, and laughed, "Well, at least I'm not paralyzed yet..." :)
~~
Another PS Note: I make an intentional effort to not use this blog as gossip, slander, or wording that draws attention in way of adding sparks to fire. But I also reckon with the fact that many of my close friends, church members and loved ones read it (and pretty much, I've narrowed it to be accessible to them alone), so I write this letter as an outcry to you. To fill you in, to let you know where I am at, and to give margin to the cords within me. I know it isn't the greatest way of communicating all this, (well, okay, it isn't AT ALL the greatest way of communication right now) but offer me grace too, in that. I use it to give, to live, to process, to communicate the things I can't say otherwise. As one friend wrote in an e-mail to me today: "Thank goodness for your blog, I love that I can still "hear" what you're thinking and how you're processing. Keep writing..." So, I will, I do.
So I wrote him back, only this, and as short and detached as it looks:
Whew... how do I put this in short...
My last week:
Got phone calls from family on Monday & Tuesday
Booked a Flight Tuesday Night
Booked a Rental Car Wednesday
Flew Out Thursday Morning
Met my family in Court
Saw the man who killed my mother one last time, and him sentenced to prison
Wandered the streets of Grand Rapids and West Michigan alone Thursday afternoon
Stayed at a friends house, conversed with her and her husband
Friday had breakfast with my dad, thought I saw a small piece of redemption
Went through my mom's stuff for six hours, including her wedding dress with my sisters and aunts
Flew out Friday Night, lots of airport delays
Got back in Charlotte at 2am
Got a phone call from dad at 8am that he gave her a diamond the night before (with no warning to anyone... and, did I mention I saw him that day and went to breakfast with him and court was the day before...?)
Whew... so wow... hows that for a follow-up?
:)
God's grace is good, it covers me.
So, there you have it. I know there are people who are close to me who read this blog, who have no idea. I just don't know how to say it or put it in words, or go on the phone and tell the story and again and again. I can't do it; its emotionally draining.... And my self-protection yields me to not add more conversations to the rumor mill, the gossip pond, the stirring of hurt and manipulation that precedes these events and collection of conversations. Where is the line of gossip and fact?
But all that to say, I also add, a small smile from a note I wrote in my journal this morning:
Today I am thankful.
Thankful for growth in me.
Thankful for an account
That pays cash for car issues,
That I can easily let the card slide
And see how He provides.
Thankful for goodness
For roommates
For calls
For covering
For grace.
Today I am thankful,
Thankful for the growth in me.
My roommate Marilyn came in Saturday night and set two sets of tulips on my chest and said, "Here's to the first day of 'It Can't Get Any Worse Than This.'" I smiled and choked back tears of emotion at her thoughtfulness, and laughed, "Well, at least I'm not paralyzed yet..." :)
~~
Another PS Note: I make an intentional effort to not use this blog as gossip, slander, or wording that draws attention in way of adding sparks to fire. But I also reckon with the fact that many of my close friends, church members and loved ones read it (and pretty much, I've narrowed it to be accessible to them alone), so I write this letter as an outcry to you. To fill you in, to let you know where I am at, and to give margin to the cords within me. I know it isn't the greatest way of communicating all this, (well, okay, it isn't AT ALL the greatest way of communication right now) but offer me grace too, in that. I use it to give, to live, to process, to communicate the things I can't say otherwise. As one friend wrote in an e-mail to me today: "Thank goodness for your blog, I love that I can still "hear" what you're thinking and how you're processing. Keep writing..." So, I will, I do.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Personal Happiness.
Over and over, I have heard, "It makes her/him happy." Or "whatever makes you happy." Or "but he/she makes him/her happy." Or numerous statements in some form, referring to the same connotation.
I would preach on this to my students. The Declaration of Independence strove to attain men (women) the right to: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. But this is not Biblical.
No where in the Bible does it say we should strive to obtain personal happiness. No, it says pursue righteousness, justice, love, mercy, grace. It counters culture with perseverance, suffering, courage, strength.
It preaches nothing of gaining the goal of happiness.
In America, we use this phrase often, we think happiness is the golden prize, and as long as it makes you happy, then alas, that is it! Or as long as a person seems happy, then there is nothing to question.
It also is a personal endeavor. It is an individualistic mindset. It isn't a collective accommodation, or a collective thought, or a collective span of concern. It isn't carrying out our commands to love each other, to carry each other's burdens, to act as Samaritans, to live as the First Church in Acts.
I have heard it gone so far as to label: "Am I my brothers keeper?" as a way out of it. But this phrase is used completely the opposite that it is written and intended (see my July 14, 2009 post My Brother's Keeper). Because, YES, we are our brothers keeper! YES, we are called to love and put others above our self. Dare I say -- above our own happiness!
Personal happiness is an American dream. An American pursuit. It is the American way. But it is not the Biblical way.
I would preach on this to my students. The Declaration of Independence strove to attain men (women) the right to: life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. But this is not Biblical.
No where in the Bible does it say we should strive to obtain personal happiness. No, it says pursue righteousness, justice, love, mercy, grace. It counters culture with perseverance, suffering, courage, strength.
It preaches nothing of gaining the goal of happiness.
In America, we use this phrase often, we think happiness is the golden prize, and as long as it makes you happy, then alas, that is it! Or as long as a person seems happy, then there is nothing to question.
It also is a personal endeavor. It is an individualistic mindset. It isn't a collective accommodation, or a collective thought, or a collective span of concern. It isn't carrying out our commands to love each other, to carry each other's burdens, to act as Samaritans, to live as the First Church in Acts.
I have heard it gone so far as to label: "Am I my brothers keeper?" as a way out of it. But this phrase is used completely the opposite that it is written and intended (see my July 14, 2009 post My Brother's Keeper). Because, YES, we are our brothers keeper! YES, we are called to love and put others above our self. Dare I say -- above our own happiness!
Personal happiness is an American dream. An American pursuit. It is the American way. But it is not the Biblical way.
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Charlotte Is My Cocoon.
Charlotte Is My Cocoon.
As winter storms around me, I shelter like a caterpillar.
It doesn't alleviate it. It doesn't heal the scar. It doesn't tear less at the wound.
But it offers me a bit of protection of the storm.
It shelters and wraps around me.
According to one website, a cocoon is "a protective casing" while the creature is "undergoing transformation." One "enters into a cocoon so that they will be protected from a harsh or unfriendly environment... It has oftentimes been said that the most beautiful butterflies have actually emerged from the ugliest cocoons. For this reason, many people consider the process of the cocoon to be a miracle of nature itself."
As Charlotte is my cocoon, it allows me a protective casing. It allows me a place while I undergo transformation of heart and mind and soul and life. It is a place to flee from harshness and unfriendly winter storms -- the media frenzy, from the gossip, the rumors (though still tagged on me), the many sights and sounds that would be more hurtful than helpful.
In these days, Charlotte is my cocoon. It doesn't lessen the pain. It doesn't avoid the obvious. But it does cocoon me enough to let my wounded caterpillar of a self rest in its self-propelled protection while winters icicles collect and gather and spar about.
This caterpillar may not escape with elegant wings, or monarch style, or growth and grace that comes from harsh storms. But it will emerge, from something, to something. It will reckon with the dawn. It will emerge in season. It will grow wings.
But while I wait for strength to spread through me, and wings to sprout strong,
Charlotte Is My Cocoon.
As winter storms around me, I shelter like a caterpillar.
It doesn't alleviate it. It doesn't heal the scar. It doesn't tear less at the wound.
But it offers me a bit of protection of the storm.
It shelters and wraps around me.
According to one website, a cocoon is "a protective casing" while the creature is "undergoing transformation." One "enters into a cocoon so that they will be protected from a harsh or unfriendly environment... It has oftentimes been said that the most beautiful butterflies have actually emerged from the ugliest cocoons. For this reason, many people consider the process of the cocoon to be a miracle of nature itself."
As Charlotte is my cocoon, it allows me a protective casing. It allows me a place while I undergo transformation of heart and mind and soul and life. It is a place to flee from harshness and unfriendly winter storms -- the media frenzy, from the gossip, the rumors (though still tagged on me), the many sights and sounds that would be more hurtful than helpful.
In these days, Charlotte is my cocoon. It doesn't lessen the pain. It doesn't avoid the obvious. But it does cocoon me enough to let my wounded caterpillar of a self rest in its self-propelled protection while winters icicles collect and gather and spar about.
This caterpillar may not escape with elegant wings, or monarch style, or growth and grace that comes from harsh storms. But it will emerge, from something, to something. It will reckon with the dawn. It will emerge in season. It will grow wings.
But while I wait for strength to spread through me, and wings to sprout strong,
Charlotte Is My Cocoon.
Above All Else.
"Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life." Proverbs 4:36
"And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:7
I have been wandering through conversations with my friends and roommates and loved ones, my "Verizon Network" as they called and labeled themselves today... these people who come around me and march with me and carry me, in hoards. And today, in conversations, one such love shared this phrase:
And immediately it made my mind jump to this verse in Proverbs that I have stamped on myself. It's always been in the context of dating and life with men and marriage. But today it yielded different terms.
As I Bible Gatewayed it, it came up with two identical word passages. And it struck me:
One: the first passage greets the reader with the wisdom to guard oneself. To take care to stand up and fight for oneself. To put up hedges, fence in space and privacy of land and life in order to protect the self from destruction, from the forces around or those that invade the self to perverse the actual self. It is a self-guard, a self-protection, a self-way of building and creating walls for the health of the body, the soul, the mind (Proverbs 4:20:23).
Two: the other passage carrys to the reader the Holy Spirit sword. It comes with barrings and standings and metal-clad armor. It is the armor of Christ, not of human will or condensed by human thought or emotion or ability, but it is the peace of GOD which transcends understanding. And it is GOD who guards the hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. It is GOD who comes and shelters and protects and shields and guards and causes rifts and hedges. It is GOD who becomes the battle shield and tender warrior. It is not of man or self-will, but of God.
As these two verses take place and root in my self, as they are kept within my site and heart (as instructed in Proverbs 4:21), it is these two verses which give me peace and strength. It is my self as a guard - of emotion, of removing myself from words or places or relationships which clamor stumbling or propel the loosing site (Prov 4:25-27). It is instead embossing within me truth and concern of human will and righteousness and justice. It is instead coming and realizing and allowing and opening my love and life to my "Verizon Network", my fellow warriors of community, of bond, of strength, of shield.
And it is the recognizing of the will of the Holy Spirit who also accompanies me, who strengthens me, who fights for and through and in me. It is His strength, His sword, His protection, His words, His leanings which give me protection. It is not just of self-strength or will, but the will and strength of the Holy Spirit, given to me and living with in me.
I know the Holy Spirit. I feel the Holy Spirit. I am the embodiment of the Holy Spirit.
And I will, above all else, today, guard and let be guarded of my heart.
For in it, I am given and am living in the peace of Christ, which transcends all understanding, and brings about the wellspring of life.
"And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:7
I have been wandering through conversations with my friends and roommates and loved ones, my "Verizon Network" as they called and labeled themselves today... these people who come around me and march with me and carry me, in hoards. And today, in conversations, one such love shared this phrase:
"You need to guard your heart. You need to step back. You need to protect yourself."
And immediately it made my mind jump to this verse in Proverbs that I have stamped on myself. It's always been in the context of dating and life with men and marriage. But today it yielded different terms.
As I Bible Gatewayed it, it came up with two identical word passages. And it struck me:
One: the first passage greets the reader with the wisdom to guard oneself. To take care to stand up and fight for oneself. To put up hedges, fence in space and privacy of land and life in order to protect the self from destruction, from the forces around or those that invade the self to perverse the actual self. It is a self-guard, a self-protection, a self-way of building and creating walls for the health of the body, the soul, the mind (Proverbs 4:20:23).
Two: the other passage carrys to the reader the Holy Spirit sword. It comes with barrings and standings and metal-clad armor. It is the armor of Christ, not of human will or condensed by human thought or emotion or ability, but it is the peace of GOD which transcends understanding. And it is GOD who guards the hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. It is GOD who comes and shelters and protects and shields and guards and causes rifts and hedges. It is GOD who becomes the battle shield and tender warrior. It is not of man or self-will, but of God.
As these two verses take place and root in my self, as they are kept within my site and heart (as instructed in Proverbs 4:21), it is these two verses which give me peace and strength. It is my self as a guard - of emotion, of removing myself from words or places or relationships which clamor stumbling or propel the loosing site (Prov 4:25-27). It is instead embossing within me truth and concern of human will and righteousness and justice. It is instead coming and realizing and allowing and opening my love and life to my "Verizon Network", my fellow warriors of community, of bond, of strength, of shield.
And it is the recognizing of the will of the Holy Spirit who also accompanies me, who strengthens me, who fights for and through and in me. It is His strength, His sword, His protection, His words, His leanings which give me protection. It is not just of self-strength or will, but the will and strength of the Holy Spirit, given to me and living with in me.
I know the Holy Spirit. I feel the Holy Spirit. I am the embodiment of the Holy Spirit.
"Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life."
And I will, above all else, today, guard and let be guarded of my heart.
For in it, I am given and am living in the peace of Christ, which transcends all understanding, and brings about the wellspring of life.
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