Ezra fell down the stairs yesterday.
I heard him crying as I was changing out of my church clothes and in a moment of panic, wondered if I had forgotten to shut the door to the basement after laying Jonas down for a nap.
Coming around the corner into the kitchen and realizing that the door was indeed open was one of the scariest moments of my life.
I ran. I ran so fast that I don't remember how I reached him. I only remember the way I felt. I picked him up and held him close and checked him all over.
I was shaking and crying and terrified.
He was fine. Truly, I'm not sure how, but he was and is completely fine.
I, on the other hand, remained a mess. I ripped myself apart with thoughts of my incompetency as a mother. I felt like the worst mom in the world, negligent and forgetful and guilty.
The only counselor I ever saw pinpointed me from the very beginning: "You are way too hard on yourself, Gretchen." This was one of those moments. I curled into myself and fixated on my failure.
I felt sick all afternoon. The "what-if's" and "what-could-have-been's" terrorized me. I allowed them to. Logically, I knew that Ezra was okay. I knew that he was safe and healthy and perfectly perfect. Yet I was allowing my thoughts to reek complete havoc on my peace.
Then there came a moment of decision for me. I was watching a video of our worship experience yesterday morning at church. The worship that day was powerful, anointed, and broke some chains off of me. As I re-experienced that moment via video, one of the lyrics jumped out at me: "You rescued me so I could stand and sing, I am a child of God".
Rescue. I knew that God had rescued my boy, again. I knew that with my whole being. I just didn't know why. Then, in that moment, it hit me. God is rescuing Ezra for Himself and some greater purpose that I cannot yet fathom. Something in me just knows it. I don't need to fear losing a boy that God seems intent to rescue.
Even in my failure, I cannot break what God intends to keep whole.
I knew then that I had a choice to make. I could keep ruminating on what could have happened, or what could happen the next time I forget to do something important. I could tie myself up in knots with question after question, the worst case scenarios building a grim future for my life.
Or I could choose to see God's mercy in the situation. I could see His saving hand and pour out my gratitude to Him. I could laugh in wonder at the amazing protection that God has ordered for my precocious Ezra. That was a moment of distinction for me:
Choosing to see God's protection in my failure.
Choosing to see God's protection, and not my failure.
Choosing to see God's protection.
And then thanking Him with all I have.
A couple of nights ago, we were visiting my aunt and uncle who live on a beautiful piece of land in Canton. They have an adorable golden retriever named Jack, who is still quite puppy-like in his behavior. Jack is sweet and energetic and BIG. My boys love dogs, but they are not used to dogs that big. So when Jack bounced around with them, barking, they got scared. They ran. Jack, who thought they were playing, ran after them. This caused terrified screams and cries from their cute little faces.
There was one time in particular that Finn was running from Jack, screaming. Matt called out to him, "Finn! Finn! Just run to me!" Matt knew that if Finn would run to him, then he would be able to protect him. He would handle the dog and keep Finn safe. When Finn kept running farther and faster away, it was difficult for Matt to do anything. He needed Finn close to protect him.
However, Finn couldn't hear his daddy calling. The dog was too close and the barking was too loud. Those teeth were too big and the situation was too scary. So he cried and screamed, powerless to do much else.
This was such a vivid example to me of how God responds to us in the barking chaos of our lives. When circumstances are overwhelming, He calls out to us to come close, to draw near. He wants to enclose us in the shadow of His wing so that He can better protect us. Yet sometimes the noise and the size of our circumstances just drowns out the voice of our Father and Protector. In our fear, we end up running further away from Him Who alone can help us.
Ezra falling down the stairs was life barking at me. Barking at me about my greatest fears and my most intimate failures.
When I drew close through prayer, it was then that God could speak the words that would restore my peace and dismantle my anxiety. I could have spent many days tied up in knots and broken over what almost happened. I know myself enough to know that I could have spiraled into a hole of fear and guilt.
God is speaking. He is always speaking. I choose to stay close to Him so I can hear Him above everything else and so that He can handle the noisy dogs of life for me. Dogs chase and bark, but God draws and whispers. Dogs will demand our attention but God will invite it.
It takes desire and true intention to focus on God over the chaos of our circumstances. But when we do, we will find a Father willing and capable to protect.
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Monday, September 19, 2016
Monday, March 21, 2016
To the Woman Who is Afraid to Ask for Big Things
To the Woman Who is Afraid to Ask for Big Things,
Maybe it's healing. Maybe it's a relational issue. Maybe it's a financial miracle.
I understand. I've been there too, hesitant and timid. I know what it is like to wait and wait and wait some more, refusing to ask because I was not sure that what I wanted would ever happen for me.
I also know what is it is like to be so incredibly sick of waiting that I would try to seize control for myself, most often with disastrous results.
All the while, I was refusing to ask for what I really wanted.
So I would endlessly wait. And I would needlessly control.
It felt safer than asking. It felt easier. I could handle waiting and I could handle pseudo-control, but there were many reasons that I felt I could not ask God for a miraculous movement.
At various times:
I have felt invisible and unseen by God and man.
I have felt like I don't have anything to offer in return.
I have felt like my request would probably just get rejected anyway, because rejection was the norm.
I have felt let down and disappointed by God.
I have felt like too much and yet not enough at the same time.
I have felt afraid to draw attention to myself.
I have felt bound.
If you're afraid to ask for big things from God, perhaps you identify with one or more of those reasons? I wonder if you were reading those through and one of them shot through your heart like an arrow?
Ugh, my friend, I understand. The frustration and the anxiety and the tension, I get it. I wish I could see you face to face and laser shoot hope from my eyes to yours. I'm not very touchy feely, but I wish I could give you a hug and before I let you go I would shake you a little in order to snap you out of it.
I wish I could tell you to your face that even when it feels impossible or improbable or a total waste of time, I greatly encourage you to ask.
Can I tell you why?
The Bible is full of women who were afraid to ask much of Jesus. And yet they received what they really needed.
* If you feel invisible and unseen, I would point out the Canaanite woman in Matthew 15:21-28.
She was pointedly ignored by Jesus, but a fighter spirit arose within her and she debated with the Son of God. This did not annoy Jesus but impressed him: "Woman, your faith is great. Let it be done for you as you want." (v28). Please know that God is the The God Who Sees (Genesis 16:11-15). When you feel pushed aside and unimportant, He sees you and He knows you. He loves you.
*If you feel like you have nothing to offer, I would direct you to the poor widow in Luke 21:1-4.
She did not have much, but what she did have was highly honored. What you have may not have high esteem with man, but when it is surrendered to Jesus, it can be multiplied and empowered beyond anything you could dream. You just have to bring what's in your hand.
*If you expect rejection, I would show you the woman at the well in John 4:4-26.
In cultural terms, Jesus surely shouldn't have bothered with her, as they had opposing religious backgrounds. In social terms, a great rabbi should not concern himself with a woman with questionable morals. Even Christ's disciples wondered why he was speaking with her. But he engaged her and pursued conversation and invited her despite every reason not to. God doesn't see all the reasons not to bother with you. He looks at you and sees possibility.
*If you've felt let down by Jesus before, I would ask you to read about Mary and Martha in John 11:17-43.
These women were close friends with Jesus. They trusted him and expected great things from him. But he didn't move the way they expected. He moved in a way that caused them great grief and pain. They had no way to know how miraculously God was about to move, but in order to do so, he needed to allow the wounding first. He still heard their cry and he still moved in their pain, but it had to be in a way that would more greatly display his power.
*If you are afraid to draw attention to yourself, I would direct you to the sick woman in Luke 8:42-49.
She desperately needed a divine touch, but was lost in crowd. She knew if she could just get close enough to him, that healing was available. She had great expectation for what he could do, but had little opportunity to ask for it. This woman had struggled for years with an ailment that isolated her. She was used to managing on her own, and when she had put her faith in others they had fallen woefully short of the help they promised. Yet when she reached out to Jesus, she was healed. Not only was she healed, she also found belonging, as the Son of God called her "Daughter."
*If you feel bound, I would want you to read about the crippled woman in Luke 13:10-17.
She was bound so severely that she stood out in the crowd. She was different, her daily life drastically affected and setting her apart. Jesus recognized what was keeping her crippled. He called it out and untied her from her bondage in a moment. The text doesn't even say that this woman showed up to hear Jesus teach that day. We don't know if she even knew who he was. He healed her because he desired freedom for her. He used a woman cast aside and discarded to display his glory.
*Lastly, if you feel like too much yet not enough, you are my soul sister. I have felt that way for so much of my life. I would beg you to read about the sinful woman who anoints Jesus in Luke 7:36-46.
This woman comes to Jesus broken and ashamed. She knows the gravity of her sins and how they have weighed her down. She knows how short she has fallen. But she trusts that Jesus does what he said he could do. Forgive. As she weeps at his feet, the exhibition of her adoration baffles the others in the room. She's too much for them, and they don't understand why Jesus is even letting her touch him. In his marvelous mercy, he defends and protects this woman. In the presence of many, he forgives her and sends her in peace, honoring how much she loved him. The woman who was not enough yet too much had just ministered to the Son of God. What she could not do for herself, she allowed God to do for her when she had a revelation of His goodness and mercy.
Each of these women, ignored, poor, rejected, let down, broken, crippled, sinners.
The one thing they all have in common is that they needed something from Jesus. They asked in a variety of ways, and they received in a variety of ways.
But indeed they received exactly what they needed, because they came to the One "who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us" (Ephesians 3:20).
I am slowly learning that when I neglect to ask God for big things, I rob Him of the opportunity to be glorified. The only reason any of us are even here on earth is to give Him glory.
So to the woman who hesitates to ask of God, please learn from my mistakes. I encourage you: don't let prayer be your last resort. Allow prayer to be the very first step you take in your time of need.
Speak. Ask. Expect.
Give God the invitation into your situation and watch Him change the unchangeable in your life.
You can't be so invisible, that He doesn't see you.
You can't be so poor, that He can't use you.
You can't feel so rejected, that He doesn't love you enough for 1,000 who didn't.
You can't be so disappointed, that he won't redeem the situation.
You can't be so timid, that He doesn't know exactly what you need.
You can't be so bound, that He cannot absolutely free you.
You can't be too much for Him, that He doesn't delight in your love.
Maybe it's healing. Maybe it's a relational issue. Maybe it's a financial miracle.
I understand. I've been there too, hesitant and timid. I know what it is like to wait and wait and wait some more, refusing to ask because I was not sure that what I wanted would ever happen for me.
I also know what is it is like to be so incredibly sick of waiting that I would try to seize control for myself, most often with disastrous results.
All the while, I was refusing to ask for what I really wanted.
So I would endlessly wait. And I would needlessly control.
It felt safer than asking. It felt easier. I could handle waiting and I could handle pseudo-control, but there were many reasons that I felt I could not ask God for a miraculous movement.
At various times:
I have felt invisible and unseen by God and man.
I have felt like I don't have anything to offer in return.
I have felt like my request would probably just get rejected anyway, because rejection was the norm.
I have felt let down and disappointed by God.
I have felt like too much and yet not enough at the same time.
I have felt afraid to draw attention to myself.
I have felt bound.
If you're afraid to ask for big things from God, perhaps you identify with one or more of those reasons? I wonder if you were reading those through and one of them shot through your heart like an arrow?
Ugh, my friend, I understand. The frustration and the anxiety and the tension, I get it. I wish I could see you face to face and laser shoot hope from my eyes to yours. I'm not very touchy feely, but I wish I could give you a hug and before I let you go I would shake you a little in order to snap you out of it.
I wish I could tell you to your face that even when it feels impossible or improbable or a total waste of time, I greatly encourage you to ask.
Can I tell you why?
The Bible is full of women who were afraid to ask much of Jesus. And yet they received what they really needed.
* If you feel invisible and unseen, I would point out the Canaanite woman in Matthew 15:21-28.
She was pointedly ignored by Jesus, but a fighter spirit arose within her and she debated with the Son of God. This did not annoy Jesus but impressed him: "Woman, your faith is great. Let it be done for you as you want." (v28). Please know that God is the The God Who Sees (Genesis 16:11-15). When you feel pushed aside and unimportant, He sees you and He knows you. He loves you.
*If you feel like you have nothing to offer, I would direct you to the poor widow in Luke 21:1-4.
She did not have much, but what she did have was highly honored. What you have may not have high esteem with man, but when it is surrendered to Jesus, it can be multiplied and empowered beyond anything you could dream. You just have to bring what's in your hand.
*If you expect rejection, I would show you the woman at the well in John 4:4-26.
In cultural terms, Jesus surely shouldn't have bothered with her, as they had opposing religious backgrounds. In social terms, a great rabbi should not concern himself with a woman with questionable morals. Even Christ's disciples wondered why he was speaking with her. But he engaged her and pursued conversation and invited her despite every reason not to. God doesn't see all the reasons not to bother with you. He looks at you and sees possibility.
*If you've felt let down by Jesus before, I would ask you to read about Mary and Martha in John 11:17-43.
These women were close friends with Jesus. They trusted him and expected great things from him. But he didn't move the way they expected. He moved in a way that caused them great grief and pain. They had no way to know how miraculously God was about to move, but in order to do so, he needed to allow the wounding first. He still heard their cry and he still moved in their pain, but it had to be in a way that would more greatly display his power.
*If you are afraid to draw attention to yourself, I would direct you to the sick woman in Luke 8:42-49.
She desperately needed a divine touch, but was lost in crowd. She knew if she could just get close enough to him, that healing was available. She had great expectation for what he could do, but had little opportunity to ask for it. This woman had struggled for years with an ailment that isolated her. She was used to managing on her own, and when she had put her faith in others they had fallen woefully short of the help they promised. Yet when she reached out to Jesus, she was healed. Not only was she healed, she also found belonging, as the Son of God called her "Daughter."
*If you feel bound, I would want you to read about the crippled woman in Luke 13:10-17.
She was bound so severely that she stood out in the crowd. She was different, her daily life drastically affected and setting her apart. Jesus recognized what was keeping her crippled. He called it out and untied her from her bondage in a moment. The text doesn't even say that this woman showed up to hear Jesus teach that day. We don't know if she even knew who he was. He healed her because he desired freedom for her. He used a woman cast aside and discarded to display his glory.
*Lastly, if you feel like too much yet not enough, you are my soul sister. I have felt that way for so much of my life. I would beg you to read about the sinful woman who anoints Jesus in Luke 7:36-46.
This woman comes to Jesus broken and ashamed. She knows the gravity of her sins and how they have weighed her down. She knows how short she has fallen. But she trusts that Jesus does what he said he could do. Forgive. As she weeps at his feet, the exhibition of her adoration baffles the others in the room. She's too much for them, and they don't understand why Jesus is even letting her touch him. In his marvelous mercy, he defends and protects this woman. In the presence of many, he forgives her and sends her in peace, honoring how much she loved him. The woman who was not enough yet too much had just ministered to the Son of God. What she could not do for herself, she allowed God to do for her when she had a revelation of His goodness and mercy.
The one thing they all have in common is that they needed something from Jesus. They asked in a variety of ways, and they received in a variety of ways.
But indeed they received exactly what they needed, because they came to the One "who is able to do above and beyond all that we ask or think according to the power that works in us" (Ephesians 3:20).
I am slowly learning that when I neglect to ask God for big things, I rob Him of the opportunity to be glorified. The only reason any of us are even here on earth is to give Him glory.
So to the woman who hesitates to ask of God, please learn from my mistakes. I encourage you: don't let prayer be your last resort. Allow prayer to be the very first step you take in your time of need.
Speak. Ask. Expect.
Give God the invitation into your situation and watch Him change the unchangeable in your life.
You can't be so invisible, that He doesn't see you.
You can't be so poor, that He can't use you.
You can't feel so rejected, that He doesn't love you enough for 1,000 who didn't.
You can't be so disappointed, that he won't redeem the situation.
You can't be so timid, that He doesn't know exactly what you need.
You can't be so bound, that He cannot absolutely free you.
You can't be too much for Him, that He doesn't delight in your love.
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
How NOT to Help the Hurting
As my husband made his way to the church yesterday, his attention was drawn to a group of protesters outside the Planned Parenthood building. This is not a new sight to him; in fact, it's a fairly common one.
But something struck him differently yesterday. As he watched, one of the protestors yelled directly at a woman entering the building and waved her sign at her with reckless abandon.
Something in his heart hurt for that woman entering the building.
He parked his car and walked over to the protestors. Emboldened, he told them, "This is not Christ's love! The words on some of these signs are awful. I stand with you guys in your beliefs but the words on these signs and getting aggressively in their faces is not Christ's love. Talking with them and praying with them would show Christ's love more than this."
These signs said words like "Butchers", amongst other things.
I truly believe this is not the way Jesus would be dealing with these women. (Psalm 103:10-11)
Time after time during his years of ministry, Jesus used truthful, yet gentle words with those who were lost in sin and hurting.
To the Samaritan woman in John 4, he invites her to abundant life, then speaks to her in straight-forward fashion of the life she has been leading thus far. He didn't get in her face with a sign, but touched her heart through conversation. Verse 39 tells us that "Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman's testimony, 'He told me everything I ever did.'"
To the adulterous woman in John 8, he cleverly diverts those accusing her and in a moment, lavishes unexpected mercy on her. She expects a stone and receives new life instead. He does not condemn or shame her, but lets grace do its work and tells her to leave her life of sin.
To the rich young man in Mark 10, he answers his questions and when it comes to the moment when he knows the man will meet his stronghold, it says, "Jesus looked at him and loved him" before speaking the words that would make the man turn away to deal with his decision.
To the outcasts and sinners, Jesus abundantly gave love, freedom, healing, and acceptance.
The ones that Jesus spoke the most harshly with were actually the religiously pious. In Matthew 23 he minces no words towards the Pharisees calling them, in swift succession: hypocrites, blind guides, blind fools, blind men, snakes, and brood of vipers. These were men who were representing religion and the law, and they were so busy filling up their minds that they never let the truth of what they learned penetrate their hearts. They were hardened and unmerciful. If they had had a picket sign, they probably would have smacked someone over the head with it.
One of the reasons that what Matt did yesterday hit so close to home for me is because he did something that I was once unable to do. When I was living in Minneapolis, I remember driving past the Metrodome to signs that were shaming and condemning homosexuality. These signs had words so ugly on them that I don't even want to put them here.
I remember driving by with tears in my eyes and a breaking heart. One sign in particular boldly and stupidly declared that God hated homosexuals. I immediately pictured my friend Eric, who is homosexual. Eric and I had grown close. Eric and I talked often about God and I tried to answer his questions as well as I could, a bumbling Bible school student. I had repeatedly and consistently tried to both speak and model the love of Christ to Eric.
It broke my heart and made me angry that he could drive by the lies on those signs outside the Metrodome, and possibly ever believe that God hated him. Though incredibly angered that day, I did not stop. I drove away and let hate have the final word.
A surprising thing happened after Matt's conversation with the protestors yesterday. One of them came into the church and found him. She told him that he was right and that she didn't feel as though they were displaying Christ's love through the measures they were using. He talked with her and prayed with her, and she left with a new strategy to love the hurting.
As followers of Christ, there are absolutely harmful ways to spread our beliefs. These aggressive and selfish tactics only push away the ones that God so desperately wants us to reach.
Micah 7:18 says, "Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance? You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy".
If God delights in mercy, then I will seek every opportunity to show it. I am most like Christ when I extend grace and love to the lost and hurting, rather than slinging accusations at those who most need a tender word or gentle touch. Let us invite and invest rather than shame and condemn.
But something struck him differently yesterday. As he watched, one of the protestors yelled directly at a woman entering the building and waved her sign at her with reckless abandon.
Something in his heart hurt for that woman entering the building.
He parked his car and walked over to the protestors. Emboldened, he told them, "This is not Christ's love! The words on some of these signs are awful. I stand with you guys in your beliefs but the words on these signs and getting aggressively in their faces is not Christ's love. Talking with them and praying with them would show Christ's love more than this."
These signs said words like "Butchers", amongst other things.
I truly believe this is not the way Jesus would be dealing with these women. (Psalm 103:10-11)
Time after time during his years of ministry, Jesus used truthful, yet gentle words with those who were lost in sin and hurting.
To the Samaritan woman in John 4, he invites her to abundant life, then speaks to her in straight-forward fashion of the life she has been leading thus far. He didn't get in her face with a sign, but touched her heart through conversation. Verse 39 tells us that "Many of the Samaritans from that town believed in him because of the woman's testimony, 'He told me everything I ever did.'"
To the adulterous woman in John 8, he cleverly diverts those accusing her and in a moment, lavishes unexpected mercy on her. She expects a stone and receives new life instead. He does not condemn or shame her, but lets grace do its work and tells her to leave her life of sin.
To the rich young man in Mark 10, he answers his questions and when it comes to the moment when he knows the man will meet his stronghold, it says, "Jesus looked at him and loved him" before speaking the words that would make the man turn away to deal with his decision.
To the outcasts and sinners, Jesus abundantly gave love, freedom, healing, and acceptance.
The ones that Jesus spoke the most harshly with were actually the religiously pious. In Matthew 23 he minces no words towards the Pharisees calling them, in swift succession: hypocrites, blind guides, blind fools, blind men, snakes, and brood of vipers. These were men who were representing religion and the law, and they were so busy filling up their minds that they never let the truth of what they learned penetrate their hearts. They were hardened and unmerciful. If they had had a picket sign, they probably would have smacked someone over the head with it.
One of the reasons that what Matt did yesterday hit so close to home for me is because he did something that I was once unable to do. When I was living in Minneapolis, I remember driving past the Metrodome to signs that were shaming and condemning homosexuality. These signs had words so ugly on them that I don't even want to put them here.
I remember driving by with tears in my eyes and a breaking heart. One sign in particular boldly and stupidly declared that God hated homosexuals. I immediately pictured my friend Eric, who is homosexual. Eric and I had grown close. Eric and I talked often about God and I tried to answer his questions as well as I could, a bumbling Bible school student. I had repeatedly and consistently tried to both speak and model the love of Christ to Eric.
It broke my heart and made me angry that he could drive by the lies on those signs outside the Metrodome, and possibly ever believe that God hated him. Though incredibly angered that day, I did not stop. I drove away and let hate have the final word.
A surprising thing happened after Matt's conversation with the protestors yesterday. One of them came into the church and found him. She told him that he was right and that she didn't feel as though they were displaying Christ's love through the measures they were using. He talked with her and prayed with her, and she left with a new strategy to love the hurting.
As followers of Christ, there are absolutely harmful ways to spread our beliefs. These aggressive and selfish tactics only push away the ones that God so desperately wants us to reach.
Micah 7:18 says, "Who is a God like you, who pardons sin and forgives the transgression of the remnant of his inheritance? You do not stay angry forever but delight to show mercy".
If God delights in mercy, then I will seek every opportunity to show it. I am most like Christ when I extend grace and love to the lost and hurting, rather than slinging accusations at those who most need a tender word or gentle touch. Let us invite and invest rather than shame and condemn.
Friday, July 31, 2015
The Miraculous Mundane
The last few days, I have been living under one dark cloud of crank.
I wake up with a light heart and ready to face the day, and then some moment comes and reality breaks in and the crank comes out.
I don't want to be active. I don't want to veg. I don't want clean. I don't want to play. I most certainly don't want to run errands with my kids, even though our refrigerator shelves are feeling lonely.
Somewhere in the mixture of the monotony of daily life and the endless pop-up demands of mommy hood, I grow weary. Of all of it. I don't want life to be boring and predictable, but I also don't want any surprises.
I wipe down counters, I put dishes away, I sweep the floor, I feed the faces, I pick up endless superhero "guys", I add things to shopping lists, I hang up clothes.
The monotony.
I kiss a fresh ouchie, I clean sand out of hair, I break up a fight, I wipe some snot, I break up squabbles, I correct an outburst.
The endless pop-up demands of mommy hood.
I am one who has a laser like focus. Just ask Matt what happens when he tries to talk to me if I am reading or trying to write. If I am deep in thought, it is hard to break through to me: "Gretchen? Gretchen??? Hello?"
Because I am naturally formed this way, I have always enjoyed being by myself when it came to personal devotion time with God. Growing up, that meant shutting myself away in my bedroom. In college with multiple roommates, that meant retreating to a prayer room where I could concentrate. As a mommy of one, that meant waking up early in order to check it off my list before the craziness started. As a mommy of two, finding pockets of time that are uninterruptible is nearly impossible.
In our first year of marriage, I would hole myself up in our bedroom to have quiet time with God when we would get home from work for the day. Read my Bible, check. Pray through my written list of prayer requests, check. Write in my journal, check. It didn't take long for me to notice that Matt never sought such time like this. When I would ask him about it, he'd say, "I just talk with God throughout my day, whatever I'm doing".
Hmmmm. Novel idea. But isn't it easy to get distracted that way and aren't there some days where you reach bedtime and realize you haven't spoken at all? That was my fear of trying that approach. I didn't want to risk missing Him.
There have been times this pregnancy where I have felt totally disconnected from God. My brain is one big pile of scrambled eggs and there is no ability to laser focus in on anything except the demand of the moment. I miss the connection. My love language is quality time and lately so little of it feels quality. It feels broken, rushed, slopped together. I'm in survival mode half the time.
I find myself missing early morning Bible reading while I drank my coffee. I miss running on the treadmill while I listened to worship music or a sermon. I miss shutting myself in a room without the door being knocked on or opened or hearing crying on the other side of it.
It's easy to tell myself: this is just a season. You'll be able to connect with God again soon. The boys are only young for so long and they won't need you this much forever. Soon you'll be able to find your pockets of time again when you can check 'connect with God' off the daily schedule.
But the truth is, I'm not really okay with that. I'm not okay with feeling connected someday. I want more of Him today: A) Because I can't make it through the day without His joy and strength and B) Because He's worthy of being wanted every single second and not put up on some shelf for when relationship feels convenient again.
I "joke" every now and then that if it wasn't for God, I would be hooked on some kind of medication to deal with life. I say it smiling, but it feels true. I need Him and I know it. I don't like feeling unplugged.
I read this the other day and it totally resonated with me:
"The great lie of motherhood: I'll find Him when life slows down or this burden lifts or my present struggle no longer nips at my heels...instead, the fight is to find Him when the dishwasher breaks and a friend just doesn't understand me and my daughters' wounds surface again" ("Every Bitter Thing is Sweet" by Sara Hagerty)
Yes!!! I felt it firmly as I underlined the words in the book. It is this moment, every moment really, where He is available to be found. There is something in me that expects Him to show up in the good moments and not the mundane, maniacal ones - which, honestly, is when I need Him most.
When I try to make it through my monotony or pop-up demands without Him, I do myself a disservice by acting in my own power. But when I see every single moment as a chance to meet with Him, I create space for Him to move and speak.
This was verified to me when I read the next day in my devotional:
"His purpose is for me to depend on Him and on His power now. If I can stay calm, faithful, and unconfused while in the middle of the turmoil of life, the goal of the purpose of God is being accomplished in me...it is the process, not the outcome, that is glorifying to God...God's purpose is to enable me to see that He can walk on the storms of my life right now." ("My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers)
God doesn't want my someday, He just wants today. I can't honor Him tomorrow; I only have my right now, in which I can choose to see His hand in the midst of the mundane and the chaos of motherhood.
Just a couple of months ago, my mom posed this question to our parenting class at church: "How will you know that you've been a successful parent?"
I answered assuredly, "If my boys grow up and live for Christ." Nothing else matters to me more than that. By stating that, I was essentially branding myself a failure if I don't see my boys choosing Christ. In a way, I probably will feel like a failure if that happens. However, my life and how it honors God should not ever be based upon the choices that someone else is allowed to make.
This too was written by Sara Hagerty and caused me reexamine this goal:
"If my chief end as a mother is anything less than knowing Him and carrying His glory in my life, I will walk through these years empty".
This moment is all I have to choose to honor Him. It's all I have to choose to love others and put their needs ahead of my own. It's all I have, whether it's mundane or miraculous.
I will meet with Him in the chaos, and not just the convenience of a quiet room.
I will choose to see Him in it all.
I wake up with a light heart and ready to face the day, and then some moment comes and reality breaks in and the crank comes out.
I don't want to be active. I don't want to veg. I don't want clean. I don't want to play. I most certainly don't want to run errands with my kids, even though our refrigerator shelves are feeling lonely.
Somewhere in the mixture of the monotony of daily life and the endless pop-up demands of mommy hood, I grow weary. Of all of it. I don't want life to be boring and predictable, but I also don't want any surprises.
I wipe down counters, I put dishes away, I sweep the floor, I feed the faces, I pick up endless superhero "guys", I add things to shopping lists, I hang up clothes.
The monotony.
I kiss a fresh ouchie, I clean sand out of hair, I break up a fight, I wipe some snot, I break up squabbles, I correct an outburst.
The endless pop-up demands of mommy hood.
I am one who has a laser like focus. Just ask Matt what happens when he tries to talk to me if I am reading or trying to write. If I am deep in thought, it is hard to break through to me: "Gretchen? Gretchen??? Hello?"
Because I am naturally formed this way, I have always enjoyed being by myself when it came to personal devotion time with God. Growing up, that meant shutting myself away in my bedroom. In college with multiple roommates, that meant retreating to a prayer room where I could concentrate. As a mommy of one, that meant waking up early in order to check it off my list before the craziness started. As a mommy of two, finding pockets of time that are uninterruptible is nearly impossible.
In our first year of marriage, I would hole myself up in our bedroom to have quiet time with God when we would get home from work for the day. Read my Bible, check. Pray through my written list of prayer requests, check. Write in my journal, check. It didn't take long for me to notice that Matt never sought such time like this. When I would ask him about it, he'd say, "I just talk with God throughout my day, whatever I'm doing".
Hmmmm. Novel idea. But isn't it easy to get distracted that way and aren't there some days where you reach bedtime and realize you haven't spoken at all? That was my fear of trying that approach. I didn't want to risk missing Him.
There have been times this pregnancy where I have felt totally disconnected from God. My brain is one big pile of scrambled eggs and there is no ability to laser focus in on anything except the demand of the moment. I miss the connection. My love language is quality time and lately so little of it feels quality. It feels broken, rushed, slopped together. I'm in survival mode half the time.
I find myself missing early morning Bible reading while I drank my coffee. I miss running on the treadmill while I listened to worship music or a sermon. I miss shutting myself in a room without the door being knocked on or opened or hearing crying on the other side of it.
It's easy to tell myself: this is just a season. You'll be able to connect with God again soon. The boys are only young for so long and they won't need you this much forever. Soon you'll be able to find your pockets of time again when you can check 'connect with God' off the daily schedule.
But the truth is, I'm not really okay with that. I'm not okay with feeling connected someday. I want more of Him today: A) Because I can't make it through the day without His joy and strength and B) Because He's worthy of being wanted every single second and not put up on some shelf for when relationship feels convenient again.
I "joke" every now and then that if it wasn't for God, I would be hooked on some kind of medication to deal with life. I say it smiling, but it feels true. I need Him and I know it. I don't like feeling unplugged.
I read this the other day and it totally resonated with me:
"The great lie of motherhood: I'll find Him when life slows down or this burden lifts or my present struggle no longer nips at my heels...instead, the fight is to find Him when the dishwasher breaks and a friend just doesn't understand me and my daughters' wounds surface again" ("Every Bitter Thing is Sweet" by Sara Hagerty)
Yes!!! I felt it firmly as I underlined the words in the book. It is this moment, every moment really, where He is available to be found. There is something in me that expects Him to show up in the good moments and not the mundane, maniacal ones - which, honestly, is when I need Him most.
When I try to make it through my monotony or pop-up demands without Him, I do myself a disservice by acting in my own power. But when I see every single moment as a chance to meet with Him, I create space for Him to move and speak.
This was verified to me when I read the next day in my devotional:
"His purpose is for me to depend on Him and on His power now. If I can stay calm, faithful, and unconfused while in the middle of the turmoil of life, the goal of the purpose of God is being accomplished in me...it is the process, not the outcome, that is glorifying to God...God's purpose is to enable me to see that He can walk on the storms of my life right now." ("My Utmost for His Highest by Oswald Chambers)
God doesn't want my someday, He just wants today. I can't honor Him tomorrow; I only have my right now, in which I can choose to see His hand in the midst of the mundane and the chaos of motherhood.
Just a couple of months ago, my mom posed this question to our parenting class at church: "How will you know that you've been a successful parent?"
I answered assuredly, "If my boys grow up and live for Christ." Nothing else matters to me more than that. By stating that, I was essentially branding myself a failure if I don't see my boys choosing Christ. In a way, I probably will feel like a failure if that happens. However, my life and how it honors God should not ever be based upon the choices that someone else is allowed to make.
This too was written by Sara Hagerty and caused me reexamine this goal:
"If my chief end as a mother is anything less than knowing Him and carrying His glory in my life, I will walk through these years empty".
This moment is all I have to choose to honor Him. It's all I have to choose to love others and put their needs ahead of my own. It's all I have, whether it's mundane or miraculous.
I will meet with Him in the chaos, and not just the convenience of a quiet room.
I will choose to see Him in it all.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
Guilt as a Terrible Parenting Strategy
If you had to ask me what is the single toughest task for me as a parent, it would be easy for me to pinpoint:
Reacting.
I react with my emotions all wrapped up in my children's behaviors. Whether they disappoint, shock, or please me, it is written all over my face and expressed in every word from my mouth.
I've never really considered myself an impulsive person...I love plans and schedules and order. But the impulsivity of my emotional reactions is swifter and more powerful than what I've learned to control.
Too often, I've reacted before I have even processed what happened. If I could just. slow. down. I know that wisdom is lurking around in my brain if my heart would just simmer for a single second.
I'm attending a parenting class on Wednesday nights currently (taught by my mama, nonetheless), and it stuck with me a few weeks ago when she said how important it is to not parent from our emotions. As a parent, it is crucial that we remain in control of the situation by acting, not reacting. Our children get a bit of a free pass when it comes to losing it, we do not.
A couple of weeks ago, I was driving away from a park with my sons. We left on a semi-sour note, as Finn and one of his cousins had been going at it a bit. As we drove out of the parking lot, Finn and I talked about what had happened. He didn't feel like his cousin was being very kind and was upset that I expected him to still be nice in return.
I said to him, "I understand. I understand that it is really tough to be kind to others when we feel like they aren't being kind to us."
He sighed and said, "Yeah, it is."
This was good. We were off to a great start. Let's dig deeper!
I said, "Maybe next time before we hang out with your cousins, we can pray and ask God to help us be kind at all times."
I felt a puff of accomplishment in my spirit. I was utilizing what I was using in the parenting class and it was working!! Until....
Finn says, "I'm not praying. If you pray I'm closing my ears and not listening."
Well, he may as well have taken a dagger to my mommy heart. Absolutely nothing on this earth means more to me than my faith and the hope that my children will share the same faith. It triggered a big old emotional reaction in me.
"Finn Matthew, why would you say that?! That hurts my heart! I am so disappointed in you."
Suddenly what could have been a Level 3 incidence between us escalated to a Level 8. Not because of Finn; Finn is a child and a 4 year old who loves to push buttons sometimes. This one was all on me.
I allowed myself to get so worked up that by the time I got home and told Matt about it, I was actually in tears. My mommy heart felt broken and like a total failure....again.
By the time an hour or so had passed, my brain caught up with my heart and the guilt began to rise.
The next day, still baffled, I asked my sister what she would have done in that situation. She responded, "Well, I probably would have said that sometimes I don't feel like praying either..."
Oh yeah. Duh. That's simple enough. If only I had to been slow to respond (James 1:19).
My children are absolutely not going to come to a relationship with Jesus because I guilt them into it by saying I'm disappointed in them when they don't feel like praying.
No manipulation, no coercion, no willing it to happen will help my children believe that Jesus loves them and wants relationship with them. It may lead them close for a moment, but will ultimately push them away.
Finn and I let the discussion on prayer cool for a couple of weeks. The most I said to him was that prayers don't have to be long and complicated. I told him that one of my favorite prayers was simply, "Help, God."
Yesterday he surprised me.
He had gone outside to wait for some friends that were coming over to our house. When Jonas and I walked outside to join him, he says to me,
"Mommy I was talking to God."
My heart grew 3 sizes, like the Grinch.
"Oh yeah," I tried not to seem too excited, "what were you saying to God?"
"I was praying for the dead mouse (in our window well) and the dead bird (on the street)"
My sweet son was praying, from his own heart, about something that truly matters to him.
It was a reminder to me that God can touch my son's heart without my help. I don't need to strong arm my faith into him. Sometimes, mommies need to get out of the way so that their children can cultivate their own relationship with God.
Pray. Lead by example. Love with everything I have. Talk about God's goodness and faithfulness.
And then?
Release the reins and get out of the way!
Reacting.
I react with my emotions all wrapped up in my children's behaviors. Whether they disappoint, shock, or please me, it is written all over my face and expressed in every word from my mouth.
I've never really considered myself an impulsive person...I love plans and schedules and order. But the impulsivity of my emotional reactions is swifter and more powerful than what I've learned to control.
Too often, I've reacted before I have even processed what happened. If I could just. slow. down. I know that wisdom is lurking around in my brain if my heart would just simmer for a single second.
I'm attending a parenting class on Wednesday nights currently (taught by my mama, nonetheless), and it stuck with me a few weeks ago when she said how important it is to not parent from our emotions. As a parent, it is crucial that we remain in control of the situation by acting, not reacting. Our children get a bit of a free pass when it comes to losing it, we do not.
A couple of weeks ago, I was driving away from a park with my sons. We left on a semi-sour note, as Finn and one of his cousins had been going at it a bit. As we drove out of the parking lot, Finn and I talked about what had happened. He didn't feel like his cousin was being very kind and was upset that I expected him to still be nice in return.
I said to him, "I understand. I understand that it is really tough to be kind to others when we feel like they aren't being kind to us."
He sighed and said, "Yeah, it is."
This was good. We were off to a great start. Let's dig deeper!
I said, "Maybe next time before we hang out with your cousins, we can pray and ask God to help us be kind at all times."
I felt a puff of accomplishment in my spirit. I was utilizing what I was using in the parenting class and it was working!! Until....
Finn says, "I'm not praying. If you pray I'm closing my ears and not listening."
Well, he may as well have taken a dagger to my mommy heart. Absolutely nothing on this earth means more to me than my faith and the hope that my children will share the same faith. It triggered a big old emotional reaction in me.
"Finn Matthew, why would you say that?! That hurts my heart! I am so disappointed in you."
Suddenly what could have been a Level 3 incidence between us escalated to a Level 8. Not because of Finn; Finn is a child and a 4 year old who loves to push buttons sometimes. This one was all on me.
I allowed myself to get so worked up that by the time I got home and told Matt about it, I was actually in tears. My mommy heart felt broken and like a total failure....again.
By the time an hour or so had passed, my brain caught up with my heart and the guilt began to rise.
The next day, still baffled, I asked my sister what she would have done in that situation. She responded, "Well, I probably would have said that sometimes I don't feel like praying either..."
Oh yeah. Duh. That's simple enough. If only I had to been slow to respond (James 1:19).
My children are absolutely not going to come to a relationship with Jesus because I guilt them into it by saying I'm disappointed in them when they don't feel like praying.
No manipulation, no coercion, no willing it to happen will help my children believe that Jesus loves them and wants relationship with them. It may lead them close for a moment, but will ultimately push them away.
Finn and I let the discussion on prayer cool for a couple of weeks. The most I said to him was that prayers don't have to be long and complicated. I told him that one of my favorite prayers was simply, "Help, God."
Yesterday he surprised me.
He had gone outside to wait for some friends that were coming over to our house. When Jonas and I walked outside to join him, he says to me,
"Mommy I was talking to God."
My heart grew 3 sizes, like the Grinch.
"Oh yeah," I tried not to seem too excited, "what were you saying to God?"
"I was praying for the dead mouse (in our window well) and the dead bird (on the street)"
My sweet son was praying, from his own heart, about something that truly matters to him.
It was a reminder to me that God can touch my son's heart without my help. I don't need to strong arm my faith into him. Sometimes, mommies need to get out of the way so that their children can cultivate their own relationship with God.
Pray. Lead by example. Love with everything I have. Talk about God's goodness and faithfulness.
And then?
Release the reins and get out of the way!
Friday, May 29, 2015
"Help"
I'm not sure how people who have held a precious baby in their arms and let their minds truly think about how that baby was formed for 9 months, can still doubt in the hand of a Creator.
There are so many, many things that have to go correctly in order for a baby to be born perfectly without complications. It is truly a miracle when a baby is flawlessly formed and birthed.
With that being said, complications aren't rare. Medical issues, physical deformities, and babies with special needs are fairly common, yet it doesn't mean that those precious babies are any less beautiful or as though they were neglected and forgotten in the forming process.
Matt and I have been fortunate to have 2 uncomplicated pregnancies.
This one has proven a bit different.
We found out yesterday that there is a cyst on our sweet baby's brain. This can be an indicator of a few possible chromosomal issues.
I feel like I've been on a roller coaster for the last couple of days - the exhilaration of the ultrasound appointment, the unmet expectation of not having a daughter, the thrill and embrace of naming our sweet baby and being able to call him by name, and then the crushing news that there could be something seriously wrong with the baby we love so much.
A few days ago, even before our ultrasound, I felt a song laid on my heart. "Good, Good Father" was my declaration going into this week, not knowing all that I would be facing. I lived this song, walking around the house singing it and even figuring out the chords on piano so that I could play it from my heart.
One of my favorite lyrics of this song says, "You are perfect in all of Your ways", and I sang that over and over again, seeking to embrace God's plan for us no matter what it was.
When we found out on Tuesday that we were having a boy, we immediately set out trying to settle on a name for him. That's one of our favorite parts - getting to call him by name. We finally chose "Ezra Noel", and Matt nearly cried happy tears. He had been set on that name this entire pregnancy. I had been the holdout - Ezra Fjerkenstad seemed a bit of a mouthful to me. Yet, when I discovered that the name means "help", my mind was changed. Help was the one thing I knew I needed through this pregnancy - help with my sickness, my exhaustion, my feeling overwhelmed about having 3 young kids.
Naming him brought so much peace and anticipation to his impending arrival.
Then Wednesday afternoon came, and a scary phone call from our OB nurse. That afternoon as tears flowed, I read in Psalm 20:6: "That cinches it - help's coming, an answer's on the way, everything's going to work out".
I smiled at God's goodness that I should read that psalm that day of all days. Peace flowed in.
Later that day, my mother-in-law Lynette called to pray with me. On the voicemail she spoke a couple different times that God is a "good, good father" and able to be trusted. She had no clue I had been clinging to that song. Peace flooded in.
When my mind has been troubled these past few days, I turn on worship music and direct my eyes to the one sure Help I have, God my Father Who loves me and works all things for good.
Here is the part where I say how I hesitated to post this. I could have just posted a professional singer and band singing the song. But because I have personalized this song so much, I felt like it was important to post a personalized version of it (with my very, very rough piano skills). I love this though because if you listen closely enough, you can hear Finn singing along with me. There's nothing quite like listening to your child sing along to a song like this!
We have an ultrasound Tuesday when we will discover more about what is going on with our baby. We highly value your prayers as we wait. Until Tuesday, we are focusing on expecting a good report.
Then our next hurdle will be breaking it to Finn that we are not naming the baby Batman.
There are so many, many things that have to go correctly in order for a baby to be born perfectly without complications. It is truly a miracle when a baby is flawlessly formed and birthed.
With that being said, complications aren't rare. Medical issues, physical deformities, and babies with special needs are fairly common, yet it doesn't mean that those precious babies are any less beautiful or as though they were neglected and forgotten in the forming process.
Matt and I have been fortunate to have 2 uncomplicated pregnancies.
This one has proven a bit different.
We found out yesterday that there is a cyst on our sweet baby's brain. This can be an indicator of a few possible chromosomal issues.
I feel like I've been on a roller coaster for the last couple of days - the exhilaration of the ultrasound appointment, the unmet expectation of not having a daughter, the thrill and embrace of naming our sweet baby and being able to call him by name, and then the crushing news that there could be something seriously wrong with the baby we love so much.
A few days ago, even before our ultrasound, I felt a song laid on my heart. "Good, Good Father" was my declaration going into this week, not knowing all that I would be facing. I lived this song, walking around the house singing it and even figuring out the chords on piano so that I could play it from my heart.
One of my favorite lyrics of this song says, "You are perfect in all of Your ways", and I sang that over and over again, seeking to embrace God's plan for us no matter what it was.
When we found out on Tuesday that we were having a boy, we immediately set out trying to settle on a name for him. That's one of our favorite parts - getting to call him by name. We finally chose "Ezra Noel", and Matt nearly cried happy tears. He had been set on that name this entire pregnancy. I had been the holdout - Ezra Fjerkenstad seemed a bit of a mouthful to me. Yet, when I discovered that the name means "help", my mind was changed. Help was the one thing I knew I needed through this pregnancy - help with my sickness, my exhaustion, my feeling overwhelmed about having 3 young kids.
Naming him brought so much peace and anticipation to his impending arrival.
Then Wednesday afternoon came, and a scary phone call from our OB nurse. That afternoon as tears flowed, I read in Psalm 20:6: "That cinches it - help's coming, an answer's on the way, everything's going to work out".
I smiled at God's goodness that I should read that psalm that day of all days. Peace flowed in.
Later that day, my mother-in-law Lynette called to pray with me. On the voicemail she spoke a couple different times that God is a "good, good father" and able to be trusted. She had no clue I had been clinging to that song. Peace flooded in.
When my mind has been troubled these past few days, I turn on worship music and direct my eyes to the one sure Help I have, God my Father Who loves me and works all things for good.
Here is the part where I say how I hesitated to post this. I could have just posted a professional singer and band singing the song. But because I have personalized this song so much, I felt like it was important to post a personalized version of it (with my very, very rough piano skills). I love this though because if you listen closely enough, you can hear Finn singing along with me. There's nothing quite like listening to your child sing along to a song like this!
We have an ultrasound Tuesday when we will discover more about what is going on with our baby. We highly value your prayers as we wait. Until Tuesday, we are focusing on expecting a good report.
Then our next hurdle will be breaking it to Finn that we are not naming the baby Batman.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Wild Rumpus
"And when he came to the place where the wild things are they roared their terrible roars and
gnashed their terrible teeth and
rolled their terrible eyes and
showed their terrible claws till
Max said "BE STILL!" and
tamed them with the magic trick of staring into
all their yellow eyes without blinking once and
they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all..."
- Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
We have been dealing with a most formidable foe at the Fjerkenstad household the last few weeks:
Fear.
For the first time, Finn has been truly fearful of certain things. Most of these fears seem to matriculate when it is time for bed. Even for a two year old, life is scariest when one is alone and things are dark.
I have been admittedly a bit baffled by this fearfulness, if only because it seems to have come on so suddenly. Where did my brave, independent boy go? He who used to revel in being given the freedom to play alone in the basement now frantically chases us up the stairs if we start to leave him. Is it just a developmental phase or is this fearfulness a byproduct of something else in his life?
Since this is all new for us, I have been treading carefully when it comes to handling Finn's fear. Essentially, I want to teach Finn to manage his own fear. I don't want my big boy to face his life afraid and shrinking back from things.
In other words, I don't want him to handle fear the way that I did for many, many years. I've learned it doesn't go away if you ignore it......it just gains more power and grows more frightening.
The way I see it, starting now, however we help him deal with fear builds the foundation for how he will deal with fear for the rest of his life.
No pressure.
I feel as though it is a balancing act between listening to him tell his fears but not allowing him to dwell in them.
I want to seek to understand without fostering the fear and making it worse.
I want to let him know that his fears are heard but also that they have no power over him.
I want to hold him when he is afraid but I also want him to know that he is brave and strong and can conquer them on his own.
I want to throw one arm around him in comfort and use the other arm to equip him with a weapon to fight back the fear.
My best friend was over a few weeks ago while I was putting Finn to bed (Bachelorette finale - woop woop!) In his fear as I laid him down, he wanted me to leave the door open and the hallway light on. I did, but as I wandered out to Chanelle in the living room, I sought her advice on how she handled this phase with her own 3 sweet kids.
She quickly asked me, "Did you pray with him?"
Ummmmmmmmmmm..........no.
How had I not even thought of that?! I have prayed for him but I had honestly never thought to pray with him. Praying with him welcomes him into the process and it teaches him through my example.
If I am going to equip Finn to face and deal with his fears, then prayer is the first and last of weapons that I need to be giving him.
Duh. Thanks Chanelle!
The way that I see it, if our fears are like the yellow-eyed, gnashy monsters from "Where the Wild Things Are", then prayer is yelling "BE STILL!" directly at them.
"...Yell a loud no to the devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and He'll be there in no time..." - James 4:7 (MSG).
Now when Finn feels the very real and intense emotion of fear, I pray with him. I am beginning to teach him that he is not alone because he has a Heavenly Father who is ever with him and for him. It is my hope that as he matures, he will realize this truth in greater and increasing measures.
'And now', cried Max, 'Let the wild rumpus start!'" WTWTA
Saturday, August 11, 2012
What Do I Do With These 64 Crayons?
Well, classes start in just 2 and a half weeks and I have truly been running the gamut of emotions:
- Excitement because I know it is what I am supposed to be doing AND I am almost finished
- Sadness over spending significantly less time with Finn
- Nervousness over counseling actual clients
- Wonder over how our finances will be met
- Fear that the stress of it all will cause my sleep problems to creep back in
.....Gosh those are a lot of negative emotions. Can I mention the excitement again? Because that IS a big part of what I am feeling!
I am a person who has dealt with a wide berth of emotions for as long as I can remember. I recall one of my professors stating once that some people have an 8 color box of crayons in emotions. They have all the basics - red, blue, yellow, which means that they feel all the basic emotions - anger, sadness, happiness, etc.
Then he said that there are others who have a 64 box of crayons - they feel all those basic emotions, but they also feel all sorts of different shades of those emotions. Metaphorically speaking, they have not only blue, but also periwinkle, aqua, turquoise. Realistically speaking, they feel sadness, but also happy sadness, content sadness, angry sadness.
All of that to say, I am pretty sure I have the 64 box crayon of emotions. Not only that, but because of my hypersensitivity, I am usually very in touch with whatever emotion that I am feeling.
In the past, I have lived in surrender to whatever emotion I was feeling at any given point in time. My emotions were in control, so to speak. I used to think that living under the control of my emotions was an authentic way to live - my feelings were my guide about everything. And while emotions can definitely be A guide, they are not meant to be the sole leader of our lives.
So as I feel all of these emotions about starting classes, I am trying to focus on the positive ones to give them power over the negative ones. But I am also assuring myself that they are just emotions and they don't change what I know I am supposed to be doing. Gosh, I feel like this is quickly venturing into self-help territory!! Moving on....
Another thing that I am learning to do with my plethora of emotions is to pray them.
I used to feel ashamed of the strength of some of what I felt. I felt anger strongly, I felt sadness strongly, I felt jealousy strongly; but I also felt love strongly, loyalty strongly, obedience strongly, joy strongly.
When I would feel ashamed, I would tend to hide from God, a la Adam and Eve in the garden.
But what I have learned is that God longs to hear the honesty of whatever we are feeling. When we hide from Him, we hinder what He can do in the situation.
Dr. Timothy Keller, who is quickly becoming one of my favorite pastors to listen to online, did a sermon series on "Praying Your Fears" and "Praying Your Tears".
These sermons can be found online and I highly recommend them to anyone who deals with anxiety or sadness on a daily basis. They were eye opening for me and God used them to release a lot of strongholds in my life.
For those who don't go listen to them, however, essentially what they teach is that God wants to hear from us in the depth of what we are feeling - whatever it is. When we share what we are feeling with Him, it engages Him in the circumstance and invites Him to act.
As one who has often been burdened by the strength of my emotions, I have found praying them and being honest with God about them has been absolutely freeing. I no longer have to ashamed of what I feel; I bring it before God and we deal with it together.
One of my favorite books in the Bible has always been Psalms. I think that the reason I have loved it so is because I have always identified with much of what David wrote. He has been a brotha from anotha motha. In his writings, David expresses fear, sadness, joy, anger, elation, peace. I have recently gone through the psalms again and as I read them this time, I would write down any emotion that I felt was being expressed.
I sensed fear in Psalm 3,
affliction in Psalm 5,
weariness in Psalm 6,
wonder in Psalm 8,
bafflement in Psalm 10,
feeling forgotten in Psalm 13,
feeling rescued in Psalm 18,
thankfulness in Psalm 21,
anxiety in Psalm 22,
loneliness in Psalm31,
brokenness in Psalm 38,
depression in Psalm 42,
rejection in Psalm 44.
And that's not even the half of it.
The main reason that I love the psalms so much is because yes, they are a full expression of emotion. But the best part is that nearly every psalm, no matter what is being expressed, ends in giving glory to God and confessing His power over the circumstance.
Dr. Keller does point out that Psalm 88 is the only psalm that does not end on a positive note. I had written down that I sensed despair and loneliness from this psalm; it is not exactly a mood lifter. Dr. Keller believes that God wanted this psalm included as an indicator that things do not always wrap up happily or positively. Sometimes we can't come to that happy place in our minds after spilling our emotions; sometimes we dwell in darkness.
But even in darkness, we are not alone.
"If I say, 'Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, and the light around me will be night', even the darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are alike to You." - Psalm 139:11-12 (MSG)
"God has said, 'Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you'." - Hebrews 13:5 (NIV)
I don't think my 64 box of emotions is going anywhere soon. But by confessing and expressing them to God, He enters in and is ultimately glorified.
Therein lies the purpose of life.
- Excitement because I know it is what I am supposed to be doing AND I am almost finished
- Sadness over spending significantly less time with Finn
- Nervousness over counseling actual clients
- Wonder over how our finances will be met
- Fear that the stress of it all will cause my sleep problems to creep back in
.....Gosh those are a lot of negative emotions. Can I mention the excitement again? Because that IS a big part of what I am feeling!
I am a person who has dealt with a wide berth of emotions for as long as I can remember. I recall one of my professors stating once that some people have an 8 color box of crayons in emotions. They have all the basics - red, blue, yellow, which means that they feel all the basic emotions - anger, sadness, happiness, etc.
Then he said that there are others who have a 64 box of crayons - they feel all those basic emotions, but they also feel all sorts of different shades of those emotions. Metaphorically speaking, they have not only blue, but also periwinkle, aqua, turquoise. Realistically speaking, they feel sadness, but also happy sadness, content sadness, angry sadness.All of that to say, I am pretty sure I have the 64 box crayon of emotions. Not only that, but because of my hypersensitivity, I am usually very in touch with whatever emotion that I am feeling.
In the past, I have lived in surrender to whatever emotion I was feeling at any given point in time. My emotions were in control, so to speak. I used to think that living under the control of my emotions was an authentic way to live - my feelings were my guide about everything. And while emotions can definitely be A guide, they are not meant to be the sole leader of our lives.
So as I feel all of these emotions about starting classes, I am trying to focus on the positive ones to give them power over the negative ones. But I am also assuring myself that they are just emotions and they don't change what I know I am supposed to be doing. Gosh, I feel like this is quickly venturing into self-help territory!! Moving on....
Another thing that I am learning to do with my plethora of emotions is to pray them.
I used to feel ashamed of the strength of some of what I felt. I felt anger strongly, I felt sadness strongly, I felt jealousy strongly; but I also felt love strongly, loyalty strongly, obedience strongly, joy strongly.
When I would feel ashamed, I would tend to hide from God, a la Adam and Eve in the garden.
But what I have learned is that God longs to hear the honesty of whatever we are feeling. When we hide from Him, we hinder what He can do in the situation.
Dr. Timothy Keller, who is quickly becoming one of my favorite pastors to listen to online, did a sermon series on "Praying Your Fears" and "Praying Your Tears".
These sermons can be found online and I highly recommend them to anyone who deals with anxiety or sadness on a daily basis. They were eye opening for me and God used them to release a lot of strongholds in my life.
For those who don't go listen to them, however, essentially what they teach is that God wants to hear from us in the depth of what we are feeling - whatever it is. When we share what we are feeling with Him, it engages Him in the circumstance and invites Him to act.
As one who has often been burdened by the strength of my emotions, I have found praying them and being honest with God about them has been absolutely freeing. I no longer have to ashamed of what I feel; I bring it before God and we deal with it together.
One of my favorite books in the Bible has always been Psalms. I think that the reason I have loved it so is because I have always identified with much of what David wrote. He has been a brotha from anotha motha. In his writings, David expresses fear, sadness, joy, anger, elation, peace. I have recently gone through the psalms again and as I read them this time, I would write down any emotion that I felt was being expressed.
I sensed fear in Psalm 3,
affliction in Psalm 5,
weariness in Psalm 6,
wonder in Psalm 8,
bafflement in Psalm 10,
feeling forgotten in Psalm 13,
feeling rescued in Psalm 18,
thankfulness in Psalm 21,
anxiety in Psalm 22,
loneliness in Psalm31,
brokenness in Psalm 38,
depression in Psalm 42,
rejection in Psalm 44.
And that's not even the half of it.
The main reason that I love the psalms so much is because yes, they are a full expression of emotion. But the best part is that nearly every psalm, no matter what is being expressed, ends in giving glory to God and confessing His power over the circumstance.
Dr. Keller does point out that Psalm 88 is the only psalm that does not end on a positive note. I had written down that I sensed despair and loneliness from this psalm; it is not exactly a mood lifter. Dr. Keller believes that God wanted this psalm included as an indicator that things do not always wrap up happily or positively. Sometimes we can't come to that happy place in our minds after spilling our emotions; sometimes we dwell in darkness.
But even in darkness, we are not alone.
"If I say, 'Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, and the light around me will be night', even the darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day. Darkness and light are alike to You." - Psalm 139:11-12 (MSG)
"God has said, 'Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you'." - Hebrews 13:5 (NIV)
I don't think my 64 box of emotions is going anywhere soon. But by confessing and expressing them to God, He enters in and is ultimately glorified.
Therein lies the purpose of life.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Ungraceful Teetering
I can't say this with 100% certainty, but I think that everyone has an issue or two (or three, four, five) that they seem to deal with over and over again. Try as we might, there are some inner battles that we continue to wage year after year.
Anger. Depression. Insecurity. Pride. Lust. Jealousy. I could go on.....
One of these struggles for me is anxiety, which I have talked about through this forum many times. Writing about it helps me to keep my wits about me and helps me to focus on what really matters: God, His plan, and His many blessings to me.
I was reading this article earlier today about anxiety and I found myself identifying with the author more than I would have liked. I, too, have dealt with anxiety on and off throughout my life.
I remember when I was 9 years old and we had just moved into a new house after my parent's divorce. For the first time, my bedroom was upstairs, away from the action on the main floor. Kiki's room was right across the hall, but as she is 7 years older than me, we didn't exactly go to bed at the same time. Once I was "put to bed", I remember that I would lie awake and wonder what I would do if our house caught on fire and I was stuck all by myself upstairs, forgotten, with no one to hear me. I pictured myself tying all of my sheets together to fashion a rope to reach the ground. I envisioned trying to jump from my window and receiving broken bones in the process. There were even times when my dramatic mind would get carried away and I wondered if someone in my family might even start the fire and leave me alone. Heavy stuff for a 9 year old.
Another example that remains clear in my memory is from when I was in high school. We had moved again, across town. My mom had since remarried and she and my stepdad, like most couples, had frequent date nights. If they would not be home at the time they said they would, I would sit at the front window and stare down the street hoping to catch a glimpse of their car. This was before the age of cell phones, so I couldn't reach them that way, however I did call a restaurant once or twice wondering if they were still there or if they had left and how long ago? I would picture these terrible car accidents and police cars pulling into our driveway to deliver the bad news. I would work myself into a tizzy, crying genuine tears and tied up in knots not to be undone until I heard the roar of the garage door.
A vivid imagination does not serve an anxious spirit well.
To this day, my mind can get carried away with the "what ifs" of life. There are certain circumstances that I face from time to time that seem to trigger a greater level of anxiety in my heart and mind.
God keeps bringing me back to this verse:
Anger. Depression. Insecurity. Pride. Lust. Jealousy. I could go on.....
One of these struggles for me is anxiety, which I have talked about through this forum many times. Writing about it helps me to keep my wits about me and helps me to focus on what really matters: God, His plan, and His many blessings to me.
I was reading this article earlier today about anxiety and I found myself identifying with the author more than I would have liked. I, too, have dealt with anxiety on and off throughout my life.
I remember when I was 9 years old and we had just moved into a new house after my parent's divorce. For the first time, my bedroom was upstairs, away from the action on the main floor. Kiki's room was right across the hall, but as she is 7 years older than me, we didn't exactly go to bed at the same time. Once I was "put to bed", I remember that I would lie awake and wonder what I would do if our house caught on fire and I was stuck all by myself upstairs, forgotten, with no one to hear me. I pictured myself tying all of my sheets together to fashion a rope to reach the ground. I envisioned trying to jump from my window and receiving broken bones in the process. There were even times when my dramatic mind would get carried away and I wondered if someone in my family might even start the fire and leave me alone. Heavy stuff for a 9 year old.
Another example that remains clear in my memory is from when I was in high school. We had moved again, across town. My mom had since remarried and she and my stepdad, like most couples, had frequent date nights. If they would not be home at the time they said they would, I would sit at the front window and stare down the street hoping to catch a glimpse of their car. This was before the age of cell phones, so I couldn't reach them that way, however I did call a restaurant once or twice wondering if they were still there or if they had left and how long ago? I would picture these terrible car accidents and police cars pulling into our driveway to deliver the bad news. I would work myself into a tizzy, crying genuine tears and tied up in knots not to be undone until I heard the roar of the garage door.
A vivid imagination does not serve an anxious spirit well.
To this day, my mind can get carried away with the "what ifs" of life. There are certain circumstances that I face from time to time that seem to trigger a greater level of anxiety in my heart and mind.
God keeps bringing me back to this verse:
"Don't be afraid. I've redeemed you. I've called your name. You're mine. When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you. When you're in rough waters, you will not go down. When you're between a rock and a hard place, it won't be a dead end - Because I am God, your personal God. The Holy of Israel, your Savior. I paid a huge price for you...That's how much you mean to me! That's how much I love you! I'd sell off the whole world to get you back, trade creation just for you. So don't be afraid: I'm with you."
Isaiah 43:1-5 (MSG)
The reoccurrence of this issue reminds me of the waves in the ocean: a wave comes, then passes. Then another comes...and passes. And so on. There are times that I feel like I may get sucked under the water when I call on the promise of the verse above: "When you're in over your head, I'll be there with you. When you're in rough waters, you will not go down." These words give me the power and strength that I need in order to learn how to face and ride these waves. And the next time a wave comes, I will be even better at riding it. Pro surfer, baby. Riding the waves will become more natural the more that I do it.
In dealing with the waves, I have teetered ungracefully from frustration to sadness to surrender. Though I am tempted to recoil in fear from what ails me, I know that it needs to be faced head on. What I fear needs to be dealt with, otherwise it keeps the power and I am a scared little girl in the corner of the room. But "God is strong, and he wants you strong." Ephesians 6:10 (MSG)
So today, I do not shrink back. "But we're not quitters who lose out. Oh, no! We'll stay with it and survive, trusting all the way." Hebrews 10:39 (MSG)
Because I am more than a conqueror in Christ: "But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us" Romans 8:37 (MSG)
No more recoiling. I am a fighter and I do not go into battle alone. "For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you 'Do not fear; I will help you'." Isaiah 41:13 (NIV)
Because I am more than a conqueror in Christ: "But in all these things we overwhelmingly conquer through Him who loved us" Romans 8:37 (MSG)
No more recoiling. I am a fighter and I do not go into battle alone. "For I am the Lord, your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you 'Do not fear; I will help you'." Isaiah 41:13 (NIV)
Monday, March 7, 2011
Grace
Life is good because of God's blessings, plain and simple. I am blown away sometimes at his graciousness to me and the many ways that He shows me He loves me.
When I was pregnant with Finn, I had a list of things that I prayed for every day. Obviously I prayed for a healthy pregnancy and a healthy baby. But there were a couple things I prayed for that were a little less generic.
For most of my last trimester, I dealt with some early signs of preeclampsia. I had high blood pressure (sometimes ridiculously so) and lots and lots of swelling (ugggggghhh). I knew how dangerous preeclampsia could be, so from the moment those symptoms popped up, I prayed that I would not be diagnosed with it. Even though there were a couple of scares with my high blood pressure, each time the doctor assured me that I did not have preeclampsia. This continued until the day that Finn was born. While we were still in the hospital after his birth, the on call doctor came in to check on me and she informed me that it was a wonderful thing that my water had broken when it did because my test results taken that night showed positive for the beginning stages of preeclampsia. Basically, if my water hadn't broken when it did, my pregnancy and delivery could have become much more complicated and dangerous. I believe fully that this was an answer to prayer.
The second thing that I prayed for was a little more personal. I really wanted the experience of going into labor on my own. I knew a lot of friends and family that had to be induced for various reasons and I simply had a strong desire to go into labor on my own. The excitement of labor just starting out of nowhere was too much for this drama queen to want to pass up :). Ironically, it was the day that we made the appointment for our induction that my water broke. My doctor thought that I was crazy for not scheduling the induction sooner because my swelling was so out of control, but I clung to hope that Finners would come on his own. And come he did, later that night!
I guess I shared all this just as a personal testament to God's goodness. I am well aware that He did not have to answer these meager requests but He did because, for whatever reason, He loves me and thereby He loves to bless me. Isaiah 30:18 says that "God longs to be gracious to you". He delights in showing His love - to all of us, in ways that we don't even see all the time.
Now that Finn is here (in my arms drifting off to sleep as I type!) I am reminded of God's love and graciousness much more often. And I look forward to Finn interrupting a thousand more family devotions with his cooing, laughing, talking, questions, input, and all-around sweetness!
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