In Her Own Jail

Some sat in darkness and the deepest gloom...for they had rebelled against the words of God... Then they cried to the Lord in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He brought them out of darkness...and broke away their chains. Psalm 107:10-14(NIV)

In the novel The Help by Kathryn Stockett there is a character who believes she is superior to the women who serve her. She is hateful, even to the point of having innocent women incarcerated. At the end of the book the wise protagonist rightly perceives that the awful "Miss Hilly" is the one in the darkest jail.

Self-constructed soul prisons are even more confining than the physical kind. There is no end to the prison sentence and no parole board.

Soul prisons are constructed from bricks of fear, of addiction, of bitterness... For years I suffered in a prison built of pride and the fear of abandonment.

I once had a friend whose husband had an affair with a woman in their neighborhood. My friend was quickly imprisoned by her own hatred for the neighbor who wronged her. At first her vengeance felt good. If she hadn't broken away from it, it would have kept her locked up for life.

Another woman I know is locked up by a ravenous need to be loved. On the surface she is a giver, but thinly masked by the veneer of sacrifice is a core of self-service. 

Cannot Escape Alone
The only way to escape from a self-constructed prison is to cry to the lord. He can bring us out of the deepest gloom.

Prayer: Lord, I am in trouble again. I built a prison and now I am trapped in it. Free me Lord. Break away my chains. Amen


Work Cited: Stockett, Kathryn. The Help. New York: Amy Einhorn, 2009. Print."She in her own jail, but with a lifelong term." Kathryn Stockett, The Help

Tales of the Restoration Part VI: Broken Walls

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.

Photo of Jerusalem From The Cutting Edge News

http://www.thecuttingedgenews.com/uploads/cmimg_12886.jpg

Walls
Walls were built around ancient cities to keep out enemies who sought to destroy.

As I struggled years ago through the siege and fall of my marriage, I did not have strong boundaries. I wanted so badly to please, and preserve the peace in my home, that I accepted breaches in my boundaries with only weak resistance.

My wall was broken down.

Still today I fall back into the same pattern sometimes. I try very hard to please, and in the process I fail to enforce healthy boundaries. Someone, even someone I love, pushes through the weak area. I feel violated. I become very angry. I have a difficult time forgiving.

My wall is still broken down in places.

Prayer
Lord, help me to understand the role of the wall in the restoration you are working.

For more on healthy boundaries in relationships I highly recommend reading Boundaries by John Townsend and Henry Cloud.

Gates that let in the good, are just as important as walls that keep out the bad. More about the role of gates in the next post.

Risk Assessment

When I was growing up we raised Arabian horses and broke them for riding. Actually, I use "we" very loosely. My dad did all the work.

When I was little he would sometimes set me on the back of a young horse before it was ready to bear the weight of an adult. The colts and fillies had to gradually adjust to having something on their back. First a blanket, then a saddle, then me. Some horses were scared by the feeling of having something on their back. Some of them were just plain angry.

I vividly remember one horse. Her name was "Lacey". She was skittish. Daddy worked for weeks just to get her to accept the blanket on her back. Finally the day came that he judged her to be ready for me. He gingerly put me on her back. He had one hand on Lacey's halter and the other on me. The horse startled and took one long sideways leap about 10 feet across the corral, taking both me and my dad with her. A moment later, as we blinked in stunned surprise at suddenly finding ourselves on the opposite side of the enclosure, we both burst out laughing.

I wasn't really scared, even though we really could have been badly injured by that crazy horse. I think the reason was that my dad had a tight grip on me throughout the entire flight.

Choosing to love is like riding on the back of that crazy horse. I might get thrown off. I could even get seriously injured. However, I believe that Jesus was the one who put me here and he still has a tight hold on me. Wherever I go, He will still be right there with me.

Jesus never sat down with his disciples and said, "Now listen, you guys be careful out there. Otherwise you could get hurt..." Actually he did the very opposite. He promised them that if they were following Him, they would get hurt. And, He promised them that He would be with them in it.

Loving deeply is a very dangerous thing to do. It is going to hurt. Sometimes it is going to hurt a lot.
We should be wise and thoughtful about our choices; what we choose to do, who we choose to love. Goggles and safety helmets definitely have their place. I think a person should pray constantly and be sure of what God is calling them to do.

After that, it is time to let Him lift you onto the back of that horse and hold on.

This post was also published on http://thosewhosee.com/

A Spirit of Fear

My husband's company requires a safety talk at the beginning of every meeting. They talk about why people should never stand on chairs to reach things and why they should always wear safety goggles. Honestly, sometimes I am surprised that those accountants and engineers don't sit pecking at their computers wearing helmets and safety goggles. I suppose that the company is trying to cut workman's compensation expenses, but the extreme emphasis on safety annoys me. I'm not even the one who has to listen to the talks!

I think that people are too fearful and too careful already. Sometimes I want to bust out and do something dangerous.

I watched this "balance beam" video clip by Francis Chan this morning. It is worth watching.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LA_uwWPE6lQ

The temptation to just hold on tight until I reach the end of life is strong. But, I think Mr. Chan has a point. I doubt God is going to be greeting me with an enthusiastic "well-done!" if all I do is hang on tight and stay safe until life is over.

"For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control." 2 Timothy 1:7

Tales of the Restoration Part V: Enemy Tactics

Predictable Tactics
The enemy uses predictable tactics against most people who have been wounded by the unfaithfulness of a husband or wife.

If-Onlys
Unwelcome thoughts scream for attention inside a betrayed spouse's head. She wonders what she could have done to prevent her partner's infidelity. The "if onlys" camp on her front lawn and ring her doorbell constantly. "If only I was younger and prettier... if only I was a more interesting person...if only I weighed 10 pounds less...if only I was stronger..." These if-onlys are lies, a scheme of the evil one.


Last week I wrote that I had to learn to see my own sinfulness from God's perspective. I was not talking about opening the door to these insidious if-onlys. Saying that I had to admit to being a sinner in need of grace, may sound like I blame myself for the adultery that eventually ended our marriage.  That is not my intention.

A Second Favorite Tactic
A second favorite tactic of the evil one is to entice a person to see herself as a victim. Without intervention, victims become entrenched in their own helplessness, imprisoned by bitterness at the person who wounded them. Being willing to see herself as a co-recipient of God's grace, is a necessary step toward freedom from the chains of bitterness.

For me, seeing my own sinfulness, even though I have always excelled at being a good girl, was an important step toward freedom.

Admitting that I am a sinful person did not relieve my ex-husband of responsibility. It did not mean that his choices were my fault.  Instead, confessing my own need for forgiveness freed me from one of the traps set for me.

Step-mothering: A Walk in the Twilight Zone

Stepmothering is a kind of twilight zone between two worlds.

I have many of the responsibilities of a mother, but almost none of the authority. I love my stepkids, but even that is a twilight zone, because they feel a powerful loyalty to their mother. Affection toward me, or even gratitude for the things I do, seems like a threat to her. 

The process of gluing together a new family out of the shards of two broken families is tediously slow, and your fingers get cut on the sharp edges.

Yesterday, at my stepson's request, I took some homemade Chai to school for a project. I was thrilled to be asked. It felt like a gesture of acceptance from him. It was the first time I have dared to step foot in the school without the legitimatizing presence of their father beside me.

From the moment I called the reception desk to try to find out what time class began, it was clear that I was an outsider. My husband takes responsibility for school related parenting obligations for his kids. I take care of those things for my daughter. So, when the receptionist asked the name of the homeroom teacher. I panicked. My mind went completely blank. I could not remember the teacher's name! I felt stupid, worse that stupid. I felt like I was trespassing by even thinking of walking into the building.

The receptionist must have thought that I was worse than stupid too because from the moment I admitted that I didn't know the name of the teacher, she treated me with great suspicion. I am pretty sure that she thought I was a stepmother after the tradition of Snow White's step-mother, likely to show up to class with a whole bag of poison apples. It seemed more like I was mounting a hostile invasion then like I was just dropping off a treat.

It all worked out ok. I gathered my courage to walk into the school and face the receptionist. I must not look as dangerous as I sound, because after she used the computer to confirm that I really was the stepmom, she let me take the treats to the classroom. Reportedly, the kids liked the Chai. Some even asked for the recipe so they could have it at home.

I agreed to do this because I wanted to do something nice for my step-son. I wanted to take another baby step toward finding my place in his life. It was a small thing, no different from the dozens of other ways my husband and I work toward gluing our new family together each day.

It was hard. It was risky. It was emotionally costly. And, it was worth it.

Tales of the Restoration Part IV: Spiritual Far-sightedness

Spiritual Far-sightedness
For many years I was relationally far-sighted.  I could see other people and their flaws and sins clearly, but I had a much more difficult time seeing myself.  This became obvious during the time my first marriage was disintegrating.

My then husband (I will call him E) had been unfaithful, and my world was crumbling around me.

I had a wonderful mentor who walked very closely with me during that time. She is a beautiful older woman. She has chocolate brown eyes that reflect the fathomless depth of a beautiful soul. She wept with me. She listened to me.  She loved me. Most important of all, she stubbornly refused to allow me to stay on the path I was on.

Speeding Toward Bitterness
I was speeding toward intense bitterness. From my point of view I was the of victim of my husband's gross infidelity. The way I saw things, I was innocent and he was guilty.  It sounded reasonable enough to me, but staying on that course would have led me to ruin. My mentor saw where I was headed and refused to allow it. For hours each week we would sit together.  I would pour out my heart and she would listen. Then gently, but with supernatural precision, she would catch me in my pride. "Do you see how arrogant that point of view is?" she would ask. She had to stay after me for ages before I could see my own sinfulness. 

I will always be grateful to her.  If it weren't for her relentless intervention I would have become a very ugly person.

Nehemiah's Confession
Nehemiah must have been faced with a similar temptation. After all, he was too young to have been responsible for the sin that led to the nation's captivity in Babylon. He was not among the first exiles to return to the land with the priest Ezra either.

In prayer, Nehemiah first reminded himself that God was big enough to handle the job of rebuilding and rescuing the nation from their current crisis, and that God loves them and keeps His promises, and that He is listening.

Then, right away Nehemiah began confessing. He confessed his own sins, but he didn't stop there. He also confessed his family's sins. Then, he confessed the nation's sins. He looked at himself, his family, and his people from God's point of view and specifically listed the ways they had fallen short.

Restoration Begins with Confession
In a time of suffering, particularly if that suffering is caused by the betrayal by someone you love, it is very tempting to become spiritually far sighted. You see the sin of the betrayer, but none of your own.  No rebuilding project can be successful if it is undertaken by people suffering from this kind of blindness.

During the beginning of my marriage crisis, and for many years after, I prayed fervently for God to restore our marriage.  God was unbelievably tender and present to me during those times of prayer. He spoke to me, sometimes dramatically, in ways I could hear and understand. He repeatedly reframed the discussion. Every time I prayed for him to break down strongholds of evil in someone else's life he would reveal a stronghold in my own life instead. Every time I prayed for change, He would gradually change me before eventually changing my circumstances.

God had to restore my vision before he would restore my life. I will always be thankful that he did. 

More About the Crazy Woman in My Shoes

A few days ago I wrote about the fact that I massively overreacted to my husband and step daughter last weekend.  I was mystified by my own reactions.  These days when I confuse myself I always blame my hormones.  Hormones truly could be playing a part in it, but I think there might be something more here that warrants a closer look. My over-the-top feelings of anger and hopelessness could be symptoms of something in me that needs to be addressed. This morning I read something about this topic in the book Walking with God by John Eldredge. If the book wasn't copyrighted in 2008, I would have thought John wrote them directly to me.

When you see in others-or find in yourself-reactions and responses that seem way out of proportion, that's a clue that something else is going on. Other things are at play.  We usually just write such reactions off to immaturity, when in fact God may be using them to surface deeper issues so that we can deal with them.  Or the enemy may be up to something.  Quite often, both are going on. But what usually happens is that we're embarrassed by our overreaction, and we do what we can to quickly get past it.

I still don't understand what deeper issues God is addressing in me or if my reactions are a form of spiritual attack.  I am praying and asking others who pray for me to pray that I will be able to hear what God has to tell me about this. 

Friendly Fire

I totally blew it last weekend.

A little background is in order. I used to be an exceptionally steady person, steady to a fault.  I almost never got angry and think I can truthfully say that for years I never reacted outwardly in anger. It wasn't really a healthy way to be, but that is another story.

So, I was shocked by the appearance of the crazed woman standing in my shoes over the weekend. I inwardly fumed at my husband. I exploded at my stepdaughter when she made a small and predictable mistake.  I may have set my hard earned better relationship with her back by many months.
How did I become this irrational maniac who makes no sense even to myself?  Can I blame it on hormones?

Whatever the cause, I ended up deeply discouraged. I felt like an injured soldier who reacted by firing a wild shot, wounding someone in my own regiment. I wanted to dessert.  I wanted to run from the front lines of the battle and hide.

I am not sure how I became a soldier in the first place. I hate conflict. I am afraid of it. I am afraid that conflict will destroy my most precious relationships.  It takes me a long time to recover from an argument. My husband, often the much needed voice of reason in my life, tells me that I have this all wrong.  He says that conflict gives us a chance to confront our weaknesses. He says that we emerge from these conflicts better than we were before because we have identified and addressed problems. I have a lot to learn from him.

Anyway, like it or not, I am in a battle. I have a real enemy who is seeking to destroy me and the people I love. Fortunately, none of us is alone in this.  We have a God who is high and powerful but, not far away.

I dwell in the high and holy place, and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite.       Isaiah 57:15  

God himself came down to be with me in this low place.  Just listen to what that word "revive" means.  It means to give life, nourish, recover, repair, restore. He knows that I feel beat down and depressed.  He is here to in the trenches to help me become whole. Maybe I can get up and jump back into the fray after all.

My husband is right again.  Conflict can make us stronger.

 

The Lesson I Learned from a Flower

I want to be like these flowers; flourishing, blooming, colorful and joyful even in a hard place.