This time of year is distracting. There is extra noise, extra pressure to spend more money than I should, extra fattening food, extra busyness, and extra expectation that everything in my life should be happy and bright.
If you are lonely, or your family is in turmoil, or broken, the holidays highlight all the things that are not picture perfect. Facing Christmas in the desert can be tough.
I firmly believe that this sort of pain is actually a marvelous gift. A wilderness is often the perfect setting for clearing away the clutter, for encountering the divine in a new way. Acknowledging the reality that this life will never be Heaven, might just be the perfect set up for an epiphany, a chance to suddenly understand and seeing clearly for the first time.
My church is doing a series of sermons on Epiphany. It is not a word I have used often, so I decided to look it up. It means
1. The manifestation of Christ to the gentiles especially the Magi or
2. a manifestation of a divine or supernatural being or
3. a moment of sudden revelation or insight.
This Christmas season I am praying for and seeking epiphany cubed. Just as a cube has dimensionality, height and depth and width, I want this holiday season to be one characterized by three dimensional epiphany.
I want the height of encountering Christ. The Magi traveled through the desert in search of Christ. Maybe modern magi can travel through a difficult, desert season of life with the same aim.
I want the depth to see the divine. Maybe I will have new eyes to see the divine touch in my ordinary existence or maybe I will encounter the supernatural in an unexpected way, either way I am going to have my eyes and heart searching for the Holy.
I want epiphany number 3 too. I want the width to understand in a new way, to have those "aha" epiphany moments of insight and revelation.
May your December be all about epiphany.
Love,
Beth
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
When Holidays Feel Like War...
During my travel down the long road of separation and divorce, facing the holidays felt like marching into battle. I hated having to share my kids with my wuzband (I like that term better than "ex"). I hated the TV commercials of happy two parent families sitting down with all of the kids for a big turkey dinner, because I hated being reminded of everything my family wasn't and never would be again. I hated the loneliness of showing up at church services and family gatherings as a one instead of a two. "Celebrating the holiday" sounded like an oxymoron to me.
Holidays are still a challenge with my new blended family. Not only do we have differing traditions and expectations to maneuver, we also have the difficulty inherent in making plans in a step family. As we try to make plans, my husband and I have to coordinate with my parents, my grown children, his parents, and both extended families. This, I suppose, is normal. But, we also have to negotiate with my wuzband, and his wuzwife, and their plans for our children. This often means that my nieces' and nephews' holiday could be altered because of their aunt's husband's wuzwife's brother-in-law's plans. Confused? Me too. That's my point.
A holiday can feel like another battle in a long war, and I don't always come out unscathed. My holidays don't always feel triumphant. That is why I was struck anew by 2 Corinthians 2:14 yesterday.
But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere. 2 Corinthians 2:14
Always leads us in triumphal procession?
In ancient Rome when an emperor or general won a great victory he was awarded a triumphal procession by the senate. He would march into Rome preceded by the spoils he'd won in battle and followed by the conquered enemy warriors and then his own troops.
The idea here is that though we battle and fight an enemy, Christ has won the ultimate victory. No matter that the battle still rages. The ultimate outcome is already determined. The enemy is defeated. Christ is "triumphator". The struggle is not pointless even though it sometimes feels that way.
When I was separated from my first husband, I was given a wise piece of advice from an older woman. She said, "Your mate is not your enemy. Your mate has been taken captive by your enemy." Whenever my messy family life begins to feel like a war, it behooves me to remember who my enemy is, and isn't. And, to remember that Christ is leading me in triumphal procession, celebrating the victory over the real enemy.
Our suffering, even suffering highlighted by holidays, is not in vain. No matter how messy the battle feels at the moment, we have a place in the victory parade.
Holidays are still a challenge with my new blended family. Not only do we have differing traditions and expectations to maneuver, we also have the difficulty inherent in making plans in a step family. As we try to make plans, my husband and I have to coordinate with my parents, my grown children, his parents, and both extended families. This, I suppose, is normal. But, we also have to negotiate with my wuzband, and his wuzwife, and their plans for our children. This often means that my nieces' and nephews' holiday could be altered because of their aunt's husband's wuzwife's brother-in-law's plans. Confused? Me too. That's my point.
A holiday can feel like another battle in a long war, and I don't always come out unscathed. My holidays don't always feel triumphant. That is why I was struck anew by 2 Corinthians 2:14 yesterday.
But thanks be to God, who in Christ always leads us in triumphal procession, and through us spreads the fragrance of the knowledge of him everywhere. 2 Corinthians 2:14
Always leads us in triumphal procession?
In ancient Rome when an emperor or general won a great victory he was awarded a triumphal procession by the senate. He would march into Rome preceded by the spoils he'd won in battle and followed by the conquered enemy warriors and then his own troops.
The idea here is that though we battle and fight an enemy, Christ has won the ultimate victory. No matter that the battle still rages. The ultimate outcome is already determined. The enemy is defeated. Christ is "triumphator". The struggle is not pointless even though it sometimes feels that way.
When I was separated from my first husband, I was given a wise piece of advice from an older woman. She said, "Your mate is not your enemy. Your mate has been taken captive by your enemy." Whenever my messy family life begins to feel like a war, it behooves me to remember who my enemy is, and isn't. And, to remember that Christ is leading me in triumphal procession, celebrating the victory over the real enemy.
Our suffering, even suffering highlighted by holidays, is not in vain. No matter how messy the battle feels at the moment, we have a place in the victory parade.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Thanksgiving in the Wilderness
Yesterday the pastor in my church who greets the congregation and makes the announcements said, "This week all of us are looking forward to celebrating Thanksgiving." It occurred to me that his statement is not really true, unless he meant that some people look forward to the day with anticipation and many others look forward to it with deep dread.
The very idea that holidays can be pure torture, seems scroogish to people who love them. However, many people, including several people in my own household, hate them. The this-is-what-it-should-be-images of a perfect holiday collide with stark the reality of a wilderness season of life. Misplaced guilt over not being happy only adds to the problem.
For years I found myself beginning to feel sad in anticipation by the end of October, and remaining that way until I could breathe a sigh of relief that it was all over in January.
Today, I would like to simply acknowledge that this time of year is difficult. I want to tell you that if your heart is heavy and your stomach churns at the thought of facing this week, I am praying for you. You are not as alone as you feel, and you will be able to persevere through this season.
In the next couple of posts I plan to share a couple of thoughts that have helped me during wilderness holidays.
The very idea that holidays can be pure torture, seems scroogish to people who love them. However, many people, including several people in my own household, hate them. The this-is-what-it-should-be-images of a perfect holiday collide with stark the reality of a wilderness season of life. Misplaced guilt over not being happy only adds to the problem.
For years I found myself beginning to feel sad in anticipation by the end of October, and remaining that way until I could breathe a sigh of relief that it was all over in January.
Today, I would like to simply acknowledge that this time of year is difficult. I want to tell you that if your heart is heavy and your stomach churns at the thought of facing this week, I am praying for you. You are not as alone as you feel, and you will be able to persevere through this season.
In the next couple of posts I plan to share a couple of thoughts that have helped me during wilderness holidays.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Tales of the Restoration Part IX: Opportunity Knocks in Disguise
I have noticed something about praying for restoration. The breakthrough happens in the strangest ways, at the most unexpected times. God is a master storyteller. His stories are always full of surprise twists. He almost never writes the story the way I would.
I have been studying the restoration that is recounted in the biblical story of Nehemiah and finding startling parallels to the restoration project going on in me and in my family.
Nehemiah had been praying for God's intervention for months. In private, he prayed and wept. In public he hid his anguish, put on a happy face, and did his job. It was a government job; serving the most powerful man in the world, the king of Persia.
I have had seasons in my life when I have trudged through my days with a happy face masking my broken heart. It happened when my parents divorced. It happened again when my first husband told me that he didn't want to be married anymore, and again when I found out why he didn't want to be married anymore. There were times like that as I slogged through years defined by being a divorced single mom. More recently there have been days like that as I have bruised my shins running up against the realities of building a blended family from the pieces of two broken homes.
The only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning on such days is duty. I get up. I do my job. I try to hide the fact that my heart is in excruciating pain. I go home. I hide in the bathroom while I cry and pray. Eventually the day ends. Finally, gratefully, I sleep for a few hours. I get up, get slammed by the sorrow, and do it all again. Sometimes I do this for months.
Nehemiah was a good faker, but not quite as good as he thought he needed to be. He had hidden his distress for four months. Unfortunately, one day, his boss, a very powerful man, in fact the most powerful man in the world at that time, noticed that he did not look good. The king perceived that the problem was emotional and not physical. Nehemiah's immediate reaction was fear. He hadn't meant for things to go this way. He hadn't meant for his distress to interfere with his work. Kings, and this one was no exception, weren't generally known for their patience and understanding with depressed servants. Nehemiah swallowed hard, and shaking in his boots, he told the truth. This was a very dicey thing since the king ruled the empire, that conquered the empire, that was responsible for the destruction of Jerusalem in the first place.
The best things sometimes happen that way. They enter your life disguised as disasters. The very thing you have been trying with all of your might to avoid, happens, and you just have to go with it.
A few months ago I was struggling with the role of stepmother. I have spent my entire adult life working with kids. I love kids, and almost without exception kids love me. I say, almost without exception.
The notable exception happened after I disrupted already messy little lives by marrying these particular kids' father. A few months ago my stepkids had been sending me not-so-subtle messages that they didn't really want me in their lives, and I was hurting. One morning, the hurt spilled out. It overflowed in a rush. I couldn't stop it in time. My anger and hurt erupted with force all over the place. No expert giving advice about building bonds between stepmom and stepkids ever recommends this approach. I thought I had ruined any chance I was ever going to have of being accepted by these guys.
Nehemiah spilled his guts to the king. Surprisingly the king did not do as Nehemiah expected and summon the executioner. Instead the king asked how he could help, and the opportunity Nehemiah had been praying for appeared out of the blue.
My explosion prompted a discussion with the kids. We talked for hours. It was the turning point I had been praying for.
Sometimes when opportunity knocks, he does it in disguise.
I have been studying the restoration that is recounted in the biblical story of Nehemiah and finding startling parallels to the restoration project going on in me and in my family.
Nehemiah had been praying for God's intervention for months. In private, he prayed and wept. In public he hid his anguish, put on a happy face, and did his job. It was a government job; serving the most powerful man in the world, the king of Persia.
I have had seasons in my life when I have trudged through my days with a happy face masking my broken heart. It happened when my parents divorced. It happened again when my first husband told me that he didn't want to be married anymore, and again when I found out why he didn't want to be married anymore. There were times like that as I slogged through years defined by being a divorced single mom. More recently there have been days like that as I have bruised my shins running up against the realities of building a blended family from the pieces of two broken homes.
The only thing that gets me out of bed in the morning on such days is duty. I get up. I do my job. I try to hide the fact that my heart is in excruciating pain. I go home. I hide in the bathroom while I cry and pray. Eventually the day ends. Finally, gratefully, I sleep for a few hours. I get up, get slammed by the sorrow, and do it all again. Sometimes I do this for months.
Nehemiah was a good faker, but not quite as good as he thought he needed to be. He had hidden his distress for four months. Unfortunately, one day, his boss, a very powerful man, in fact the most powerful man in the world at that time, noticed that he did not look good. The king perceived that the problem was emotional and not physical. Nehemiah's immediate reaction was fear. He hadn't meant for things to go this way. He hadn't meant for his distress to interfere with his work. Kings, and this one was no exception, weren't generally known for their patience and understanding with depressed servants. Nehemiah swallowed hard, and shaking in his boots, he told the truth. This was a very dicey thing since the king ruled the empire, that conquered the empire, that was responsible for the destruction of Jerusalem in the first place.
The best things sometimes happen that way. They enter your life disguised as disasters. The very thing you have been trying with all of your might to avoid, happens, and you just have to go with it.
A few months ago I was struggling with the role of stepmother. I have spent my entire adult life working with kids. I love kids, and almost without exception kids love me. I say, almost without exception.
The notable exception happened after I disrupted already messy little lives by marrying these particular kids' father. A few months ago my stepkids had been sending me not-so-subtle messages that they didn't really want me in their lives, and I was hurting. One morning, the hurt spilled out. It overflowed in a rush. I couldn't stop it in time. My anger and hurt erupted with force all over the place. No expert giving advice about building bonds between stepmom and stepkids ever recommends this approach. I thought I had ruined any chance I was ever going to have of being accepted by these guys.
Nehemiah spilled his guts to the king. Surprisingly the king did not do as Nehemiah expected and summon the executioner. Instead the king asked how he could help, and the opportunity Nehemiah had been praying for appeared out of the blue.
My explosion prompted a discussion with the kids. We talked for hours. It was the turning point I had been praying for.
Sometimes when opportunity knocks, he does it in disguise.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
William and Kate and Why We Care
Once upon a time there was a girl. She was very beautiful and smart and athletic. One day a handsome prince noticed her beauty. After a while he asked her to marry him and the common girl became a princess. The prince and the princess got married in a huge old cathedral, with the whole world watching and cheering, and lived happily ever after.
For the past 2 days the engagement of Prince William and Kate Middleton has been all over the news. More than that, there doesn't seem to be any news other than the engagement of William and Kate. It is like the whole world; all of the dark dealings of secret terrorists cells, all of the natural disasters, all of the financial crises, stopped so that the whole world could be caught up in the engagement of these two people. None of those things stopped of course. The news media just decided that no one wanted to hear about the bad stuff as much as they wanted to hear about the prince and future princess.
Why the fascination?
I think it is because deep inside every woman there is a vulnerable little girl who wants to be the princess.
We long to be beautiful and be loved by the prince. We want his love for us to elevate us from commoner to royalty. We want to be at the center of the celebration. We want to live happily ever after. But, that is just a fairy tale. It isn't really real, even for William and Kate.
Except it is. Actually, the real story is even better. Here is the storyboard; the general outline of the story.
We were in a real mess. The handsome prince named Jesus came to the rescue. He wooed us. He asked us to live forever with him in paradise. At the end of the story there will be a wedding feast. He will be the groom and his church (that's you and me!) will be the bride. The whole universe will watch and cheer.
That is our real story. The whole thing is going to happen. Right now we just happen to be in the middle of the story. This is the part where things are messy and ugly and seem like they just aren't going to work out right. All good stories have to have that part. If they didn't, the end of the story wouldn't be as satisfying. Just wait though. The happy ending is coming, and you get to be the princess.
For the past 2 days the engagement of Prince William and Kate Middleton has been all over the news. More than that, there doesn't seem to be any news other than the engagement of William and Kate. It is like the whole world; all of the dark dealings of secret terrorists cells, all of the natural disasters, all of the financial crises, stopped so that the whole world could be caught up in the engagement of these two people. None of those things stopped of course. The news media just decided that no one wanted to hear about the bad stuff as much as they wanted to hear about the prince and future princess.
Why the fascination?
I think it is because deep inside every woman there is a vulnerable little girl who wants to be the princess.
We long to be beautiful and be loved by the prince. We want his love for us to elevate us from commoner to royalty. We want to be at the center of the celebration. We want to live happily ever after. But, that is just a fairy tale. It isn't really real, even for William and Kate.
Except it is. Actually, the real story is even better. Here is the storyboard; the general outline of the story.
We were in a real mess. The handsome prince named Jesus came to the rescue. He wooed us. He asked us to live forever with him in paradise. At the end of the story there will be a wedding feast. He will be the groom and his church (that's you and me!) will be the bride. The whole universe will watch and cheer.
That is our real story. The whole thing is going to happen. Right now we just happen to be in the middle of the story. This is the part where things are messy and ugly and seem like they just aren't going to work out right. All good stories have to have that part. If they didn't, the end of the story wouldn't be as satisfying. Just wait though. The happy ending is coming, and you get to be the princess.
Monday, November 15, 2010
The Problem with Being in the Middle
All good stories have a scene something like that in the middle.
I am pretty sure that all lives have a scene something like that in the middle too. We come to a time when the whole thing feels pointless, even hopeless.
Then we are tempted to quit, or at least to try to jump into a different story.
Frodo and Sam ultimately stand up and trudge on, because the quest is so much more important than the two of them.
Sometimes I make the mistake of thinking that my life is supposed to be about me. I want it to be a nice little story. I want it to have a beginning, middle, and end that all read "And she lived happily every after". But stories like that are very boring stories, and God doesn't write boring stories.
Our lives are part of a big story. The story has big themes. Its themes are about good and evil, the war over the ultimate fate of the universe, and a quest to put everything right again. I am a small and weak character caught up in this big story. You are too. The story is not really about us, but we are important in it.
If Frodo and Sam had laid down and died on that ledge, the Lord of the Rings would have come to a disappointing ending reading something like, "and evil triumphed and misery reigned ever after."
We can't lay down and give up in the middle of the struggle either. The fate of the universe does not hinge on you or on me, but we are part of a much bigger story. Even though we are small in the face of it, we matter. If we give up, we have strengthened the cause of the enemy. If, on the other hand, we muster the courage to trudge on, we might just get to see the triumph at the end.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Tales of the Restoration: The Gift of Tears (part II) or Go Ahead, Cry If You Want To!
The soul would have no rainbow had the eyes no tears. ~John Vance Cheney
For the past year, I have been learning a lot about a time of restoration from the Biblical story of Nehemiah. Today I am thinking about the role of crying, and mourning in the process of restoration.
The first thing Nehemiah did when he heard about the shameful state of his homeland was burst into tears. I don't mean he got a little misty for a moment. He "wept and mourned for days". Nehemiah was an important government official and male, but he apparently felt no shame over the depth of his emotion.
As soon as I heard these words I sat down and wept and mourned for days, and I continued fasting and praying before the God of heaven. Nehemiah 1:4
I decided to do a little research into tears. It turns out that the standard advice, "don't cry", may be very bad advice.
Animals don't shed tears. So why did God create tears in humans?
Dr. William Frey, a "tear expert", found that emotional tears contain a mood-elevating and pain reducing endorphin, a stress hormone, protein carrying the molecular code for emotions throughout the body, and a mineral involved with our moods. In contrast, irritant tears, (like those produced when dicing onions) were 98 percent water. Apparently, when we "cry it out", we are physically shedding the stress and emotion. Maybe that is one reason the crying makes us feel better. (information from http://smdailyjournal.com/article_preview.php?id=53397&eddate=01/12/2006)
Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts. ~Charles Dickens, Great Expectations, 1860
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Tales of the Restoration: The Gift of Tears
For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven:...a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance. Ecclesiastes 4:1,4
Growing up and through my early adulthood, I somehow adopted the idea that both anger and crying were bad. To someone who cries easily, I am sure it sounds strange that I was unable to cry. I even quit feeling things. I became emotionally dead, unable to feel either the heights of joy or the depths of sorrow.
As an adult, through the depths of the realization of some of my worst nightmares, and the help of a very patient mentor, I gradually came back to life emotionally. I learned to feel anger, and to cry. Now, when I cry I also feel gratitude for the gift of tears. It is such a relief to be able to cry.
On my other blog, http://thosewhosee.blogspot.com/ I have been writing about developing a habit of happiness. Happiness is important and, for those who draw careful distinctions, joy is an integral part of the life of a Christian. I sometimes wonder though, if there are other Christians, who like me, get the wrong idea. The route to joy is not to overdose on emotional anesthesia. We are not meant to deaden ourselves from experiencing the pain of life. There is a time to weep.
I have a friend who is in the depths of divorce. She cries frequently and easily. I think it is healthy. It is her time to weep. She wonders if it will always be like this. It won't.
Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5
More on tears next time.
Growing up and through my early adulthood, I somehow adopted the idea that both anger and crying were bad. To someone who cries easily, I am sure it sounds strange that I was unable to cry. I even quit feeling things. I became emotionally dead, unable to feel either the heights of joy or the depths of sorrow.
As an adult, through the depths of the realization of some of my worst nightmares, and the help of a very patient mentor, I gradually came back to life emotionally. I learned to feel anger, and to cry. Now, when I cry I also feel gratitude for the gift of tears. It is such a relief to be able to cry.
On my other blog, http://thosewhosee.blogspot.com/ I have been writing about developing a habit of happiness. Happiness is important and, for those who draw careful distinctions, joy is an integral part of the life of a Christian. I sometimes wonder though, if there are other Christians, who like me, get the wrong idea. The route to joy is not to overdose on emotional anesthesia. We are not meant to deaden ourselves from experiencing the pain of life. There is a time to weep.
I have a friend who is in the depths of divorce. She cries frequently and easily. I think it is healthy. It is her time to weep. She wonders if it will always be like this. It won't.
Weeping may tarry for the night, but joy comes in the morning. Psalm 30:5
More on tears next time.
Friday, November 5, 2010
An Open Prayer on a Day of Discouragement
"'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong...I will most gladly spend and be spent for your souls. If I love you more am I to be loved less?" (2 Corinthians 12: 9-10, 15 ESV)
My husband and his wuzwife, (I like the sound of that better than ex-wife) each have responsibility for their kids half the time. Every few days the kids endure cataclysmic change. In the moment it takes to exit a vehicle and walk in the door of a house, the accepted standards of behavior, the priorities, the way people treat each other, the values, and the food all change drastically.
The kids' stress on transition days often manifests itself in rudeness, anger and defensiveness. Intellectually, I think I understand what is going on. Emotionally, I have not yet learned how to steel myself against the hurricane of turmoil and conflict that slams into my peaceful home each week. I get discouraged, deeply discouraged sometimes.
Below is the prayer I prayed on one difficult day when my discouragement collided with Paul's attitude and courage in 2 Corinthians 12.
I share it, hoping that walking with me will encourage someone else who gets the wind knocked out of them on occasion.
If there is someone reading this who also faces discouragement, opposition from within and without, this is my prayer for you too.
A disclaimer: When I talk to God, I pour out my feelings untempered and uncensored. I am pretty melodramatic. It is OK. God already knows the intensity of my emotions. He can take it. He also knows that he is not going to let me fall, and that just pouring everything out to Him makes me feel better.
My Prayer:
O God,
I feel like an outsider in my own family. My walls of my house are no barrier to the enemy that seeks to undo us. The boundaries are so porous that a cell phone call can penetrate them with flaming darts and wreak havoc. 'Hardship, persecution, and calamity' (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV) march right through my safest place unfettered. How can I be content?
"I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."
The power of Christ...the power of the resurrection. The power that holds all things together. Yet, even you submitted to suffering and persecution for a time.
Lord, I want to be like you. Though you suffered you never panicked. You wept, but you were not anxious. I know that if I had the perfect life, I would not cling so closely to you. These problems and my own inability to change things, create an opportunity.
I have the opportunity to "boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." Oh Jesus, for your sake, help me to be content with weaknesses (mine and my family member's), insults (from angry stepkids), hardships (undermining, and meddling from the outside), persecutions (unfair treatment), and calamities. I choose to believe that when I am weak, then I am strong.
This battle is not against any flesh and blood person. This battle is against the evil powers in this dark world (Ephesians 6:12). Evil is my enemy.
Oh, Lord, let the power of Christ rest upon me. Help me to continue to hope, to trust, to persevere. I pray that you will give me eyes to see your mighty hand moving. Help me see your fingerprints on this infuriating situation and this day.
Amen
My husband and his wuzwife, (I like the sound of that better than ex-wife) each have responsibility for their kids half the time. Every few days the kids endure cataclysmic change. In the moment it takes to exit a vehicle and walk in the door of a house, the accepted standards of behavior, the priorities, the way people treat each other, the values, and the food all change drastically.
The kids' stress on transition days often manifests itself in rudeness, anger and defensiveness. Intellectually, I think I understand what is going on. Emotionally, I have not yet learned how to steel myself against the hurricane of turmoil and conflict that slams into my peaceful home each week. I get discouraged, deeply discouraged sometimes.
Below is the prayer I prayed on one difficult day when my discouragement collided with Paul's attitude and courage in 2 Corinthians 12.
I share it, hoping that walking with me will encourage someone else who gets the wind knocked out of them on occasion.
If there is someone reading this who also faces discouragement, opposition from within and without, this is my prayer for you too.
A disclaimer: When I talk to God, I pour out my feelings untempered and uncensored. I am pretty melodramatic. It is OK. God already knows the intensity of my emotions. He can take it. He also knows that he is not going to let me fall, and that just pouring everything out to Him makes me feel better.
My Prayer:
O God,
I feel like an outsider in my own family. My walls of my house are no barrier to the enemy that seeks to undo us. The boundaries are so porous that a cell phone call can penetrate them with flaming darts and wreak havoc. 'Hardship, persecution, and calamity' (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV) march right through my safest place unfettered. How can I be content?
"I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me."
The power of Christ...the power of the resurrection. The power that holds all things together. Yet, even you submitted to suffering and persecution for a time.
Lord, I want to be like you. Though you suffered you never panicked. You wept, but you were not anxious. I know that if I had the perfect life, I would not cling so closely to you. These problems and my own inability to change things, create an opportunity.
I have the opportunity to "boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." Oh Jesus, for your sake, help me to be content with weaknesses (mine and my family member's), insults (from angry stepkids), hardships (undermining, and meddling from the outside), persecutions (unfair treatment), and calamities. I choose to believe that when I am weak, then I am strong.
This battle is not against any flesh and blood person. This battle is against the evil powers in this dark world (Ephesians 6:12). Evil is my enemy.
Oh, Lord, let the power of Christ rest upon me. Help me to continue to hope, to trust, to persevere. I pray that you will give me eyes to see your mighty hand moving. Help me see your fingerprints on this infuriating situation and this day.
Amen
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Tales of the Restoration: Burned Gates (continued)
Nehemiah 1:3 The remnant there...is in great trouble and shame. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates are destroyed by fire.
The Rubble
Years after their parents' divorce, my stepkids still have broken down walls and burned gates. Pain and confusion keeps their gates barred with rubble. Loyalty to their mother keeps them closed to me as their stepmom. Often they are also closed to even their dad.
I could definitely be wrong, but my guess is it has to do with their perception that loyalty to their mom means they must love her exclusively. If they open up to me, she will not be OK. In their minds, they have to take care of her. She seems vulnerable. This defense of her means that the rebuilding of healthy gates has not happened quickly in the relationship with me.
The View from the Other Side of the Gate
I am also in the other position, that of being the mother of kids who have a stepmom. When my wuzband (isn't that a great word for the-man-who-was-once-my-husband? I found it in Readers Digest.) first remarried, it was very hard for me to think of my precious children developing a relationship with their new stepmom. I felt threatened and fearful that she might replace me in their hearts. When I get angry at my stepkids' mom, I try to force myself to remember how difficult it once was for me to be in her position, to share my kids. Over the years, I learned that even a good stepmom-stepkid relationship is not the same as a mother-child relationship. There is room in my kids' hearts for both of us.
Knocking on the Gates
A few days ago, I visited the school where I taught for many years. A number of kids ran up and gave me suffocating bear hugs. Their gates were open to me.
I long for that same spontaneous affection and openness to me, from my stepkids. Even though we have been a family for over 2 years, it has not happened. While I wait and maintain hope for the gates to open a smidgen, my challenge is to keep my own gates well oiled and in working order. It isn't always easy.
The Rubble
Years after their parents' divorce, my stepkids still have broken down walls and burned gates. Pain and confusion keeps their gates barred with rubble. Loyalty to their mother keeps them closed to me as their stepmom. Often they are also closed to even their dad.
I could definitely be wrong, but my guess is it has to do with their perception that loyalty to their mom means they must love her exclusively. If they open up to me, she will not be OK. In their minds, they have to take care of her. She seems vulnerable. This defense of her means that the rebuilding of healthy gates has not happened quickly in the relationship with me.
The View from the Other Side of the Gate
I am also in the other position, that of being the mother of kids who have a stepmom. When my wuzband (isn't that a great word for the-man-who-was-once-my-husband? I found it in Readers Digest.) first remarried, it was very hard for me to think of my precious children developing a relationship with their new stepmom. I felt threatened and fearful that she might replace me in their hearts. When I get angry at my stepkids' mom, I try to force myself to remember how difficult it once was for me to be in her position, to share my kids. Over the years, I learned that even a good stepmom-stepkid relationship is not the same as a mother-child relationship. There is room in my kids' hearts for both of us.
Knocking on the Gates
A few days ago, I visited the school where I taught for many years. A number of kids ran up and gave me suffocating bear hugs. Their gates were open to me.
I long for that same spontaneous affection and openness to me, from my stepkids. Even though we have been a family for over 2 years, it has not happened. While I wait and maintain hope for the gates to open a smidgen, my challenge is to keep my own gates well oiled and in working order. It isn't always easy.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Tales of the Restoration Part VII: Burned Gates
Nehemiah 1:3 The remnant there...is in great trouble and shame. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates are destroyed by fire.
Walls and Gates
City walls bar entry to enemies who seek to destroy. Gates control access so that people who seek to enter for good may come in. A restored, healthy person must have both strong walls and working gates.
The Siege
The siege and destruction of a family not only destroys walls, it also burns the gates. Until their walls and gates are restored, people who have been hurt have burned gates are blocked with mounds of rubble. After a divorce, parents and children alike often have heart-gate issues.
Burned Gates
You can recognize a person with burned gates. They are angry. Depending on personality, the anger may simmer underneath the exterior. It may be painted to make it look like something besides anger, or it may be explosive and obvious. No matter what it looks like, the anger is shouting "This gate is closed! Keep out!"
Restoration means not only rebuilding healthy boundaries, "walls", but also rebuilding the gates so that good can enter your life again.
More on burned gates later...
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| Photo from http://www.biblewalks.com/Photos4/ZionGate4.JPG |
Walls and Gates
City walls bar entry to enemies who seek to destroy. Gates control access so that people who seek to enter for good may come in. A restored, healthy person must have both strong walls and working gates.
The Siege
The siege and destruction of a family not only destroys walls, it also burns the gates. Until their walls and gates are restored, people who have been hurt have burned gates are blocked with mounds of rubble. After a divorce, parents and children alike often have heart-gate issues.
Burned Gates
You can recognize a person with burned gates. They are angry. Depending on personality, the anger may simmer underneath the exterior. It may be painted to make it look like something besides anger, or it may be explosive and obvious. No matter what it looks like, the anger is shouting "This gate is closed! Keep out!"
Restoration means not only rebuilding healthy boundaries, "walls", but also rebuilding the gates so that good can enter your life again.
More on burned gates later...
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