Promise or circumstances?

“In many cases, our need to wonder about or be told what God wants in a certain situation is nothing short of a clear indication of how little we are engaged in His work.”
― Dallas Willard, Hearing God: Developing a Conversational Relationship with God

     I was wrong.  God is not in my recliner with the remote, waiting for me to pack the truck.  He's in the truck telling me I have all I need.  I'm rummaging around in the bottom of the closet looking for a pair of shoes I haven't worn in 12 and a half years, just in case I need them.  I have noticed when I don't listen to God, He speaks louder and keeps repeating Himself until that "Duh" moment knocks me over.  Shoot, this time He was honking the horn.  I keep asking Him what I am supposed to be doing next and He keeps telling me, but circumstances tell me otherwise.  He made me a promise about my future and this is part of it.

     We have all done this, I'm sure.  We feel like we have a word from God on what we are to do, but when circumstances come up against us, we decide we must have misunderstood.  Who wins that one?  We have to be close enough to God to know when He gives us instruction so that when circumstances (the enemy) lie to us, we know the truth.  We need to throw our promise at our circumstances, not the other way around.

   So here is what happened.  Dave and I have decided it is time to tell my story.  When we first talked about it, he mentioned October, then later he said something about the end of November.  I'm having a heart attack.  The longer we wait the more time I have to think about every negative thing that could happen.  When I pray God is telling me to tell my story and finish my book.  That's all He talks about.  When I woke up the other morning to an email from Dave suggesting January, I about came unglued.  My life on hold until January?  I kept telling myself "God's Timing" not mine, but God kept telling me the time is now.  The other thing God kept repeating, "Challenge Dave".  What's that mean?  Dave is bigger then me.  He knows more than me.  He has to know God's will.  Right?  He's a pastor.  I felt totally trapped between God and His promise and Dave and his schedule.  Challenge Dave?  "Have you met Dave, God?"

   My solution, unplanned solution: Rage at Dave.  Followed immediately with guilt when Dave explained what he was trying to do.  Work with me, not against me.  What a concept?  One I hadn't thought of.  Oops.  This morning I plugged in a CD of Graham and all he talked about was stepping out, moving forward, not letting circumstances change our belief in what God has said to us.  We always have a green light with God so go unless He Himself gives us a red light.  I knew God was using Graham to talk to me.  So as I drove to church this morning I told God He was going to have to talk to Dave.  Of course He immediately responded with, "You talk to Dave."  Hmmm.

     A lot of times when I sit in church The Holy Spirit talks to me, but today, I really felt like it was Jesus talking.  I know, some people think I'm nuts, but I felt Jesus in the chair next to me with His arm on the back of my chair.  I was pretty sure the men in white coats were going to show up with a pretty new jacket for me.  Jesus began pointing out people and explaining how much bondage they were in.  One man He said was completely free.  Then He pointed out an elderly man in a green shirt, obviously alone.  "Will you tell Him I love him?"  I watched the man for quite awhile and after a little back and forth with Jesus, I agreed.

     After the service I approached Dave and asked him if he knew the man.  I guess I was hoping he would tell him, but no such luck.  Dave and I had a conversation and worked everything out.  What struck me funny about the whole thing was all the stress I had been going through over it, and there he stood chomping on almonds like it was no big deal.  Then I noticed the man in the green shirt heading for the door still alone.  I told Dave I had to go and followed him.  I introduced myself and told him exactly what Jesus wanted me to tell him.  He nodded.  He knew it.  But at least I passed the test.  So we strolled out to the parking lot telling each other a little of our stories.  I liked him immediately.  He seemed to enjoy the interest I showed.   I decided we could be good friends when he asked if I went to school here in town.  I have to stop dressing like a fourteen year old boy.

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?' Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”
― Marianne Williamson, Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles"

     

"mits"?

“Lack of interest in mission is not fundamentally caused by an absence of compassion or commitment, nor by lack of information or exhortation. And lack of interest in mission is not remedied by more shocking statistics, more gruesome stories or more emotionally manipulative commands to obedience. It is best remedied by intensifying peoples’ passion for Christ, so that the passions of his heart become the passions that propel our hearts.”
― Tim Dearborn, Beyond Duty: A Passion For Christ, A Heart For Mission

     I guess I have a problem with my "mits".  I didn't realize this until it was pointed out to me.  Okay, I wouldn't ad"mit" it until I was forced to.  Once you ad"mit" you are forced to make a decision and either ignore (not recommended) or com"mit" to change.   Or would that be sub"mit" to change?  Are you starting to get the picture?  I think there are quite a few of us "mit"less characters in the world today.  I think it's doing damage.  Besides admit, commit, and submit, I also have issues with li"mit".  I've never had any.  I've never learned to set my own.  

     Because I have a love for words and their origin, I decided I needed to figure out the meaning of "mit".  I thought it had something to do with "keeping my "mits" off of things that don't belong to me", but maybe not.  Maybe other people know this stuff off the top of their heads, but I had to do some research.  Because everything online is true (ha), especially if you "Google" it (double ha), that's what I did.  Mit comes from "mission".  That can't be good.  But it makes sense.  Commit - Com means together and mit means mission.  Commitment is a together mission?  Okay.  I looked up mission:

     1. a specific task or duty assigned to a person or group of people (their mission was to irrigate the desert)
     2. a person's vocation (often in the phrase mission in life)

     Now what? I have a problem with my mission? Of course I do. I've never had one. Not a life mission anyway.   Maybe this is why God keeps bringing up my "mits"?  I am going to have to learn to admit, commit, submit and set limits.  

     Sometimes we have to look at the positive.  I have been called a hermit.  I'm successful with that "mit" but I'm trying to give that up.  Maybe I just need to change my "mits"?  I'm learning to transmit my feelings and such.  I have learned to permit God to run (most) of my life.  And there is no reason to talk about vomit.
     So God is stressing my "mits"  I think He is telling me that these are all part of having a successful mission.  This morning, I'm feeling held back and I think He is telling me to show Him how serious my commitment is.  We all say we want to make a difference, but then we sit back in our recliners with our remotes and wait for God to pack the truck.  We want it loaded with everything we will need and idling in the driveway before we put our shoes on.  Preparation is a huge part of a mission.  I think God is sitting in my recliner waiting for me to pack the truck.  


“the whole Bible is itself a missional phenomenon. The writings that now comprise our Bible are themselves the product of and witness to the ultimate mission of God. The Bible renders to us the story of God's mission through God's people in their engagement with God's world for the sake of the whole of God's creation. The Bible is the drama of this God of purpose engaged in the mission of achieving that purpose universally, embracing past, present and future, Israel and the nations, "life, the universe and everything," and with its centre, focus, climax, and completion in Jesus Christ. Mission is not just one of a list of things that the Bible happens to talk about, only a bit more urgently than some. Mission is, in that much-abused phrase, "what it's all about.”

― Cristopher J.H. Wright

Jesus loves you...yeah you!

“Forgiveness has nothing to do with absolving a criminal of his crime. It has everything to do with relieving oneself of the burden of being a victim--letting go of the pain and transforming oneself from victim to survivor.”
― C.R. Strahan

     Some people find it strange, but I really don't like too be labeled as a survivor.  To me it's making my life all about surviving.  I am also a Mom, Grandma, Friend, and many other things.  Shaking off the victim role is not always easy, because it is so ingrained that we don't even realize we are thinking that way.  I recently found out, I am a "Why Baby".  This is not a compliment.  Asking God "Why?" puts us in a victim mentality.  We should ask, "What is this about?" and "What can I do to align my will with Yours?" according to Graham Cooke.   Makes sense, even if it hurts a little.
     I had turned off the computer and was getting very close to crawling into bed when God started talking.  I asked Him why He always waits until I'm wanting to go to sleep to talk to me.  His reply: "Why do you always wait until you're tired to listen?"  I think God has a great sense of humor.  I must sleep, therefore I must write.  He won't let me get one moment of shut eye until I write this out.
     A very well respected friend once said to me, "All abusers were abused, but that doesn't mean all victims of abuse turn around and abuse."  Well, on a Higher Authority, I have to disagree.  I believe without healing all abuse victims abuse.  We hear about the child molester who was molested.  The parent who beats his or her children because they were abused.  We don't talk about the self abusers.  People who were abused, but have the sense, heart or just "know not to" abuse others, turn it inward.  They abuse themselves with addictions, by not taking proper care of themselves.  There are cutters, anorexics, over eaters, verbal self abusers etc. etc.  One might think it is not fair to put these people in the same category as a child molester, but God said, "They are doing damage to my child, whether that child be some one else or themselves."  I'm not going to argue with that.
     What I am going to do is tell all of you who have abused, others or yourselves, (the twinge in your gut is the Holy Spirit getting your attention.)  God does not want to talk about your sin.  As He looks down on you right now, He has no interest in that sin, you are forgiven, it is finished.  What He does want to talk about, what He does want to show you is who sees when He looks at you.  You are His child.  There is nothing you can do to make Him stop loving you.  You are His beloved.  He will never leave you or forsake you.  He has a plan for you.  You have purpose.  Ask Him to show you and He will.

     The most amazing thing to me in my walk with God is His kindness.  Every time I approach Him and begin to talk about the sin I have committed and all the things I have done wrong, He changes the subject and starts giving me pictures and words about who I am in Him and what His plan is for me.  Sometimes when I pray with my hands stretched out, palms up, I can feel the weight of His hands in mine.  At first I questioned, but now I just believe.  He showed me.

“God doesn't require us to succeed, he only requires that you try.”
― Mother Teresa

“He died not for men, but for each man. If each man had been the only man made, He would have done no less.”
― C.S. Lewis

“And out of that hopeless attempt has come nearly all that we call human history—money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery—the long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.”
― C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

Pig Pen?

“The greatest day in your life and mine is when we take total responsibility for our attitudes. That's the day we truly grow up.”
― John C. Maxwell

     God gave me a picture.  I love it when He does this, because it makes the complicated things simple.  Remember Pig Pen on the Charlie Brown cartoon.  Well, similar to him, as we refuse to deal with our feelings they grow into a dust storm around us that goes everywhere we go.  Unresolved anger, unforgiveness, sadness, etc. swarms around us in a dust storm, getting on people who get near us and leaving a dirty trail every where we have been.   It grows because we don't deal with it.  We numb ourselves with addictions, escaping temporarily from the dust in our eyes, nose and hair.  People see it no matter how we ignore it and don't really want to get close to us, unless they have a dust storm of their own.  Then the two join to make a huge swirling destructive mess.  We can't see anyone else through the storm of feelings we are hidden in.  We act like there is no dirt in our eyes.  Everything is fine.
      One of the signs of a Pig Pen is a blamer.  It's not my fault.  Everyone else has caused this dust storm around me and I, the victim, am stuck having to deal with it.  A Pig Pen talks a lot, not allowing others to speak because they just might point out that it's not healthy to live in a dust storm.  It becomes comfortable to be hidden away in the dust.  One of the biggest signs of my emotional immaturity was the angry outbursts.  It's difficult for people to see a knife coming at them when you throw it from inside a dust storm.  But it's also difficult to see the things and people around us clearly when our vision is obscured by flying emotional debris.
     We can't be like Samantha on Bewitched and wrinkle our nose and the dust storm disappears.  We have to break it down and deal with each feeling.  For instance, when I started dealing with the first abuser, I couldn't just deal with the feelings about being molested.  We try to clump our hurts together.  I know a person who made a mistake years ago who is still walking through steps of healing.  He has been an example to me in that this takes time.  So when I started I only dealt with the fact that I had been molested at 7 years old.  I had to deal with several different issues one at a time that were caused by this.  To name a few:
1. My innocence was taken
2. It damaged my ability to trust
3. Self worth was damaged
4. I had to deal with my feelings about the other little girl and feeling like I should have protected her.
5. The fact that he said my parents knew and were okay with it.  (This was whole set of issues on its own)
6. He said God wanted it to happen (This was huge.) 

     This may seem overwhelming, but actually breaking it down makes it easier.  It's like cleaning your house one room at a time.  Each one is an accomplishment all by itself and it gives us the drive to tackle the next room.  The reward in dealing with your feelings is when you realize the pain has actually developed a lie.  For instance: In dealing with the feeling of no value, I found out I have value.  To believe that a big mean God stood with his back turned, wanting it to happen was extremely damaging and painful, but the picture of it now is totally different.  God didn't want it to happen, He was telling him not to, just like he has told me not to do things that I have done anyway.  (Free will)  He was more sad then I was, because not only was He hurting for me, but He was hurting for the one who hurt me.  And in the end, He has turned it for good.  
     In the process of growing and knowing Christ, I have had to do it through my head.  I had to start there because in my head I could hear the truth and make sense of it.  My heart on the other hand was too damaged.  My ability to feel correctly was all out of whack.  My ability to love and to accept love interfered with my perception.  Fear, hurt and good ole pain ruled my heart.  Once I had the truth in my head, there was a new process to begin and that was moving it to my heart.  
     I am in the process of growing my feelings of love until it pushes the other feelings down to the size they should be in a healthy emotionally mature person.  The more we fill our hearts with love the less room there is for the ugly stuff.  This is called growing up.  I have been amazed at times by the mature.  For instance when a couple I know lost there young son, not only did they get up and speak encouragement to all the people at his funeral, but instead of curling up in a ball of self absorbed pain they were busy comforting others.  Now I'm not saying we shouldn't feel the pain, what I'm saying is to feel it and then move outside of ourselves.  This sounds almost impossible but from what I have seen, the healing comes quicker.  The dad in this situation said, "If I was going to be mad at God, who was going to comfort me?"  Amazing stuff.  I am definitely not there yet.  
     Joyce Meyer does this little skit often where she talks about the enemy winding her up like a toy soldier and then she moves around the stage repeating, "What about me.  What about me.  What about me."  When I first realized that I was a Pig Pen or Joyce Meyer robot, it was embarrassing, but now I understand.  It's all about me when I can't see outside of the dust storm of emotions and unresolved feelings growing, getting thicker all around me until I can't see anyone else but me.  I wasn't even seeing me clearly.  Recently I feel like I have cleared enough of the dust that I have found a whole new world, not the enemy's world, but a world where God is doing things.  I want to be a part of that.  The coolest thing about it?  God says He doesn't even want me to have my room completely clean before I can go out and play with His other kids.

"The Lord is absolutely convinced that the picture He has of you is the right one. It is more real to Him than the picture you have of yourself!" - Graham Cooke

In spite of my outward appearance, I shall try to run a neat inn. 

Baggage or Luggage?

The gap between aspiration and achievement is always development.  Don't focus on what you lack.  If you see the difference as a discrepancy then you become that discrepancy, you become discouraged.  If you see the difference as your critical point of transformation then you can become encouraged. - Graham Cooke

    For many years I watched Joyce Meyer in the mornings to get me through the day.  She convinced me that I am a survivor.  Then God pointed me in the direction of Beth Moore.  I have read her books, watched her DVDs and listened to CD after CD.  She convinced me that I have value.  Now God has put Graham Cooke in my life.  I listen to him everyday and I am amazed at how God talks to me through him.  Not only have I survived and have value, but I am about to go out and kick some demonic butt.  This guy stokes me up.  He makes me want to march out into the world and smother demonic influence, beat the tar out of some evil spirits and to steal a line from Dave, push in some pillars.  I am repairing the tracks on my bulldozer.
     Graham compares our lives to a video game of all things.  We move from room to room picking up weapons to be used when we need them.  The rooms represent trials in our lives and the weapons represent the lessons we have learned and will use against the enemy.  He says we spend too much time worrying about what the enemy will take from us instead of planning what we can take from the enemy.  I plan on taking some serious stuff.  Graham said instead of carrying baggage, we should be carrying luggage with our weapons inside.  I like that.
     This lesson basically is saying the same thing as turn your pain into you promise.  Turn your misery into your ministry.  Beauty for ashes.  If you go back through your life you can see how all those trials have given you knowledge and strength.  Well, that's if you have emptied out the baggage and filled your luggage.
     When we look for value in our lives aren't we all saying the same thing?  What can I do to make someone else's life better.  Who can I make smile?  Who's burden can I help carry?  To lift people up, to love others,  isn't that where we get our real value.  Today I heard Graham say something that really struck me.  We focus on sin.  God doesn't.  God handled that problem with His Son's life.  Case closed.  He doesn't want us focusing on the dead man, but on the person we are becoming in Him.  We don't love our kids when they have grown into successful and happy, well behaved adults, we love them through the journey.  Our hearts hurt for them through trials.  We jump up and down with their successes.  Why wouldn't God?  He got that ugly sin out of the way, it's handled.  If we fall back into it once in awhile don't shrink back in fear of punishment, but move closer to God for comfort.  He knows how you feel about it and maybe telling Him will make you feel better, but then move on, move closer.


"For the Lord Jesus Christ's sake, Do all the good you can, To all the people you can, In all the ways you can, As long as ever you can." - Epitaph, tombstone inscription in Shrewsbury, England

True Reality?

“What you see and what you hear depends a great deal on where you are standing. It also depends on what sort of person you are.”
― C.S. Lewis, The Magician's Nephew

     I have learned the hard way in this modern day that written words can be easily misunderstood.  In emails, text messages, and books we are not able to see the body language or hear the tone of the writer.  I have a sarcastic sense of humor that has often been misread in my written messages.  I have to put extra effort in punctuation and wording.  Another thing I have found to be a challenge is that often times when I am asking a question, even of somebody sitting in front of me, it sounds more like a confident statement.  I sound like a "know-it-all".  

     This morning I was thinking about how one verse in the Bible can be taken different ways because there is no tone heard.  It is our own field of experience that forms the filter we hear through.  Let's take one verse: Ephesians 5:22.  Imagine Paul standing in front of crowd as he slams his fist on the table in front of him and in a deep, loud voice, his eyes cut through the crowd stopping briefly at every female, "Wives, submit to your husbands" he raises his hand gesturing toward heaven with a closed fist, and his voice gets louder, "as to the Lord."  I think I would be sneaking across the hall to see who was speaking in the next room, but this is how some of us hear this verse.  So what if Paul was standing in a group of people with his hands gently resting on the shoulders of the two women closest to him and in barely a whisper he says the same thing, "Wives, submit yourself to your husbands as to the Lord."  A little more inviting isn't it?  

     One of the things I have been most surprised by in the last year is the gentleness of Jesus.  When I really started listening to Him in prayer He always started out with a gentle, "I love you."  This was very uncomfortable at first, but I have grown to listen for it now.  I don't need to hear it every time I talk with Him, but He still says it and it still makes me smile.  As I have grown the filters on my ears (that should be on my mouth) have changed.  We can hear God's tone when He talks directly to us and only once in the last year have I heard a tone that told me He was not pleased with me.  I had verbally attacked Dave and the Lord said to me, in a very firm tone, "David is mine!"  After those words, that got my attention, He gently explained to me why I felt the need to attack.  He explained that I did not feel worthy of Dave's friendship, but He had put Dave in my life for a reason and I was to appreciate that and him.  I immediately apologized to Dave and our friendship actually grew.

     Our closest friends can, most of the time, hear our tone in our emails.  They know us well enough to actually hear our voices when reading something we have written.  I believe as you grow in Christ He reveals more of an accurate tone when we read His Word.  I also believe that when you first pick up a Bible and the enemy feels you slipping from his influence he slams a tainted filter on your ears so the Word does not sound like Love but more like condemnation, too high expectations and an unattainable life.

     I don't think it is only the Word that is influenced by our perceptions, but the spiritual world around us.  A lot of times when people hear about a spirit they think of some scary movie they saw as a child.  God is supernatural.  He is spiritual.  It is important for us to see that.  It is important for us to realize that there is spiritual warfare going on all around us.  We meander into church every Sunday thinking things like "I hope I get something out of this message.  I hope so-and-so doesn't sit by me."  We think about where we will eat afterwards and what we will watch on TV instead of being present in what is really going on around us.  That is the enemy distracting us and demons are only allowed into a gathering of believers if they are invited.  

     Church is not a building.  Church is us.  We used to meet in homes and other available places and I wonder if the church buildings exist today for non believers.  It opens a larger door for them to walk into a public place instead of the confines of a believers living room.  

     I have heard of people who see angels, though I have not been blessed to do so knowingly.  I have seen demons.  I have seen them as a dark haze and I have seen them as real faces.  I have had enough of a glimpse into the spiritual world to believe in it without any doubt.  I know and I believe we all need to know.  

     What if this Sunday morning you see walking into church in a new light?  His light.  We are the sons and daughters of The King.  What if we looked at it more as a gathering of royalty.  Imagine with me what I believe to be true.  We pull into the parking lot at church and a small team of angels run to our car to escort us safely inside.  They are not cute little cherub angels, but 7 feet tall dressed in white and armor?  On either side of the door of the church are posted Angels standing at attention.  They are there to keep uninvited demonic guests from passing through the doors.  We are busy straightening our clothes and wiping the noses of our babies not even aware of their presence.  Inside the door are two lines of angels with swords drawn over our heads as we enter the sanctuary.  What if as the pastor stands visiting with friends there are seven angels forming a have circle behind him with the points of their swords joined above his head?  They move only when he moves.  

     Then the unbeliever arrives with his band of demons and it only takes a look from the angel at the door and those the unbeliever is not hanging onto scurry away, afraid to pass through the door.  As they should be.  As the unbeliever hesitates the demons start talking to him, but the angels are threatening those demons.  There are times when I have passed through the door of the church and felt like I was safe.  I was in a place where nothing evil could touch me.  There have been other times when I have walked in knowing the demons were not only with but working over time to get me to leave or at the very least not listen.  Because of this, when I sit in church now I pray for the demons, all demons, mouths to be duct taped, their hands bound and the angels to boot them out the door.  I pray that all ears are opened, demonic filters removed and that the Holy Spirit's presence is felt by each person in attendance at this meeting of royalty.  I pray for eyes to be opened, that the pastor feels the presence of God, and that the message he speaks touches lives and plants seeds.  I believe the pastor's message can be heard differently by all those in attendance and I pray that each person hears what God intends them to hear.  Some times I am so immersed in praying for the people in the room that I have learned to watch the sermon again online to hear anything I may have missed.

     As we are escorted back to our cars it is like the dispatching of many ministers.  We are sent out with our own ministries.  We each have our own schedule of meetings with lives to be touched.  We are called.  The words we say help shape the filters on unbeliever's ears.  They help shade the glasses others see through.  Are we cleaning glasses or whispering lies into vulnerable ears?  Our words, our tone, our body language is a way to pass out hope to the hurting, encouragement to the broken and direction to the lost.

“You will always define events in a manner which will validate your agreement with reality.”
― Steve Maraboli, Life, the Truth, and Being Free

Misery to Ministry

“I'm interested in the fact that the less secure a man is, the more likely he is to have extreme prejudice.”
― Clint Eastwood

     The other day a friend said to me, "Some people have a weird need to talk down other groups to validate their own." This is so true. My eyes have been opened more than usual lately to discrimination and insecurity. Hmmm. Do I see a connection here?

     I have a friend who I adore.  I would love to be more like her.  Her life makes mine look like a game of "Tiddly Winks".  She was abandoned by both parents and lived with a grandmother who was not fond of her to put it mildly.  One day her grandma put an ad in the paper offering her and her sister and brothers to a good home.  She broke it to the kids by showing them the ad.  Every time I think of this, my heart bleeds for them.  To not give up her identity that is really all I can share, but the point is, her heart has been broken deeply and too many times.  But what does she do?  She loves.  She has a heart so big and full of love and compassion, I feel like a cold stone next to her.  When anyone needs anything, she is always there.  I could call her at 3 in the morning and she would come running.  (In her pajamas I might add.)  When I look at her, with my brain I understand her insecurity, but when I look at her with my heart, all I see is beauty radiating from the inside out and I'm jealous.  This is the better way to handle insecurity.

     There is another way.  Discrimination.  People have not only been discriminated against for their skin color, gender, and financial class, but I have seen people discriminated against because they are physically beautiful.  It's pretty obvious here that the discriminator has a little body shame.  I have seen people discriminated against because they are intelligent, they love easily or they give more than another thinks they should give.  I even heard the other night that prostitutes trying to break free of abusive pimps and change their lives are discriminated against by other battered women in shelters.  That one broke my heart.

     I can definitely tell a difference in how I am treated by the way I dress.  If I throw on sweats and a T-shirt, no make-up and tie my hair in a knot I am not treated as well as I am when I dress up.  I used to work for a man who was obviously another nationality and when he would take us all out for lunch, we were not treated as well as when we went without him.  This breaks my heart.  Mostly because he felt what we saw.    

     In school I was called "Hawk Nose".  I always planned that some day I would get a nose job.  It makes me laugh now, because me with any other nose would not be me.  And really, why would I spend all that money and put myself through all that pain for insecure people who look at me once in a while?  I can't even see my nose 99% of the day. That's an old insecurity I put away.                      

     We have all watched the news after a catastrophe.  The one that comes to my mind for some reason is the Oklahoma City Bombing.  I remember seeing people helping each other, holding  and comforting.  They were all equal.  I am not discriminating here, when I say I can only imagine that CEO's were helping janitors get the medical attention they needed.  A catastrophe like that makes us all equal.  Really.  If you were drowning or caught in a burning building, would you care what color skin the person had who came to help you.  Would you care that they were divorced, had an affair, live with their boyfriend while claiming to be a Christian?  What would it look like if the people sitting on the curbs with bloody rags held to their wounds started moving through the crowd of injured people and poking them in their wounds?  That's what we are doing in an insecure world when we discriminate or judge others.  We all have wounds, we have all made mistakes, we all need to be loved.

     So what this all comes down to is really simple.  The devil lies to us.  He hurls emotional and physical sticks and stones to convince us that we are less than.  The last thing he wants us to be is a confident child of God.  He doesn't want us to know we are loved.  The insecurities we face, the hole in our heart can only be healed by the love of Christ.  There is no human that can truly completely fill that void.  I see lots of believers who know how great God is and they worship Him with all their hearts, but still don't realize they are loved by Him.  We are all given the grace and love and forgiveness wrapped up in His blood.  All we have to do is accept it.  The greatest commandment is to love God with all of you and love your neighbor as yourself.  That doesn't mean to discriminate against them because of the lack of security you have in yourself.  

     You can see the insecurity in people.  We all try to hide it in our material possessions, our laughter, our bragging, name dropping and in our eyes.  And sadly in our judgement of others.  As my friend does all the time, lift them up, don't beat them down further.  Maybe Jesus is too big and intimidating for an insecure person to approach, so be a little Jesus they can identify with.   Then make the introduction.  It only takes love and a few letters to turn misery into ministry.

“If you are not royalty, He is not King.”
― Beth Moore

Tow truck anyone?

“But God doesn't call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn't come through.”
― Francis Chan, Crazy Love: Overwhelmed by a Relentless God

     As a side job to help a friend my dad would occasionally drive truck.  I was an adult at the time and rode along to spend time with him.  I have always asked a lot of questions and my dad is one who loves to share what he knows.  I learned a lot about driving truck.  I have an appreciation for all vehicles but I have a secret love for a nice truck.  Lights and chrome as it thunders by can bring a smile to my face.  Truckers don't get enough appreciation especially on the road.   Tonight I was thinking about life and how it resembles driving a truck.  
     When a truck driver needs to make it up a long or steep hill, you will see them sometimes get a run at it.  There's a lot of weight to a loaded truck and on a good hill they can slow to a crawl.  I get frustrated for them when they get a good run at a hill and somebody in a small car pulls in front of them barely doing the speed limit.  They don't realize the truck is now going to hold up everyone behind them.
     I remember one time when my kids were small and I had a friend and her kids with us.  We were stopped behind two or three cars on a busy highway waiting for the first one to make a left hand turn.  I always check my rear view mirror to make sure the person behind me is stopping.  This time I watched a milk truck, obviously loaded trying desperately to stop before he rammed into the back of us.  The trailer was moving out to the side and black smoke was rolling.  When I had a chance I took a left hand turn behind that first car.  It was illegal, but I knew we were in trouble.  The other two cars barely got moving when the truck finally stopped within feet of them. If I would have stayed where I was there would have been a chain reaction pile up.
     The little bit I have learned from my dad has helped me, like when I drove a loaded U-Haul pulling a trailer with my pickup on it from Texas to Washington.  It has also caused me to help truckers.  If I see a truck who needs to change lanes, I get over and hold up traffic so they can get in.  The pay off?  When travelling alone with my girls truckers, most truckers watched out for us.
     I heard or read some where in the past months that people tend to believe when things are going well, then we often times get hit with something negative.  This person suggested that maybe God knows the negative is coming and gives us a little down hill to make a run for the hill that's coming up.  If God designed our roads, I would guess that He would do this.  The longer the ease of going down hill was in preparation for the longer uphill.  It feels this way in my journey anyway.  
     Lately I have been busting through fears like a snowplow.  Every drift I break through seems to make the next one even easier.  But then God in his kindest way has been revealing a problem to me the last couple days.  He gives me a little at a time while I'm busy busting fears so I don't dwell on it and become overwhelmed.  But tonight He gave me the rest of the story and suddenly it seems I am driving a low rider and high centered on a pile of snow.  Or we could say I had picked up speed for the hill ahead and suddenly an old man in a Volkswagen Bug doing 35 mph on the interstate barely cleared my bumper as he meandered over into my lane.  Seriously?  Can't you see I was driving here?  Hello?  Is that God in that Bug?
     Dave and I joke about my bulldozer idling in the driveway and how one day God is going to say, "Go" and everybody better move.  I thought it was time.  I packed a lunch grabbed a jacket, put it in gear and God smiled, waved, and said, "Your tracks fell off."
     "What?  I can't hear you.  My tracks?"  I shut the thing down and got off to stand beside God and check out the problem.  "That's pretty major, God."
     "It's okay, we can fix it."
     "That's pretty major, God."
    "It's going to be alright."  He pats me on the shoulder.
    "Gooooooood, that's major."  
     Hey, I have a bulldozer for sale.  I will stick with writing.
     Writing what you ask?  How about a book titled, "How to have a successful relationship that lasts three minutes?"  Or "Coffee stand friendships."  Here's one, "How to make your relationship last all the way through the grocery line."  Yep, that's the problem
     Apparently God thinks my bubble has to go.  He says it is too big.  I like it.  People can see in and I can share anything, I'm not afraid to tell my story.  The fear comes after the words.  Where is the door?  My sister hates going to the coffee stand with me, because I talk and they share and we laugh and then I drive away and she has to drink cold coffee.  On the way out of the grocery store my mom has asked me how I knew that lady I was talking to,  I didn't.  I just allowed her to look in my bubble, now run mom, before she asks for my number.
     How am I supposed to help people if I can't get close to them.  I have friends, I have good friends that I dearly love, but my friendships resemble a yo-yo or maybe one of those paddles with a ball attached by a rubber band.  I have a lot of guy friends,  Though its just a different color yo-yo with a shorter string.  I don't even know what women like to do.  I don't like shopping.  I shop online and the only interaction is with the UPS guy.  Fashion?  Not my thing.  I would just as soon shave my head for the convenience of it than actually style my hair.  Yep, there is a HUGE snow drift at the end of my driveway blocking my trackless bulldozer.  Aren't we all excited to see how God fixes this one? 

“I don't know how, but I know Who”
― Beth Moore

Pew Potato

“I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.”
― Steve Jobs

     A few months back, for a few different reasons I became very brave and turned off the cable.  Yep, I shut off the T.V.  I panicked at first, but there had been too many nights of watching mindless programs and asking myself as I nodded off, remote in hand, "Will I even remember this in a month?"  If I think back to the endless hours in front of the T.V. and I ask myself what moments stood out to me, what big moments do I remember, my answers are almost embarrassing.  Who shot JR?  I don't remember.  I remember the last episode of M.A.S.H and Walter Cronkite dying.  I remember Thursday nights at 8:00 lying on the floor as a kid watching the Walton's, but in my adult life?  Not so much.  I remember September 11 and I remember Katrina and I remember Tropical Storm Allison hitting Houston when I lived in Texas.  Most of those hours in front of the television were wasted.

     Now I read, listen to CD's and watch DVDs about God.  I write and I think and I pray.  I don't miss the TV at all.  I don't even notice it anymore.  Okay, I have had a little trouble missing football, but even that passes quickly.  Maybe someday I will turn the cable back on, but at this time I'm happier without it.  About 6 months ago, God told me in 6 months I wouldn't recognize my life.  He wasn't kidding.  To the outside world, there may not be huge differences, but those close to me, they see it.

     Change is necessary.  Can you imagine a life with a baby who never grew?  How about going to the same job every day and doing exactly the same thing?  Groundhog Day was not a movie I enjoyed.  

     There are some things we want to stay the same.  If you like what you do for a living you enjoy going to work every day, but you still don't want to do the exact same thing.  We like the security of going home where our things are, our family is around us and the familiarity is a comfort.  But to remodel or redecorate is nice.  Sometimes we would like to trade in our children, we joke, but really we just want them to grow and mature and learn how to be responsible happy adults.

     Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever.  That's security.  His love for us, the rules, and His promises don't change.  But the way He communicates with us, what He wants from us and our relationship with Him does.  It's up to us how much.  We choose the relationship we have with Christ.  We choose the intimacy, the level of communication and the love we show Him.  We choose the change.  We do the changing.  Graham Cooke said, "We have to stop living the best life possible in Egypt."  Wow.  Ouch.  We think that sitting in a church once a week is a ticket out of Hell - Our own personally designed Hell.  We should just get, because "I am a Christian".  I have a red 911 phone to Christ.  One of my favorite AA sayings is: It only works if you work it.

     I worked with a lady who knew her husband was going to send her flowers on certain days of the year.  To me that was pretty boring.  She was happy with that.  Tonight I watched my 7 year old grandson play soccer.  He chased his shadow, two little girls wanted to hold hands while they played and some just ran with the pack staying on the outside of it.  It reminded me of some believers I know and was.  What if they never changed?  It wouldn't be so cute to watch if they were all in their twenties.  Why do we think change is so scary? Yet we change spouses, jobs, cars, locations and our hair color looking for happiness.  It's the change inside that scares us.  Facing fears, changing behaviors, facing dysfunction and growing takes work, but that is where the happiness is.  Growing Christlike.  

     One of the first things Dave said to me that hit hard: Nothing changes, until you change it.  I have a hard time listening to people complain about the same thing I heard them complain about last year and the year before and the year before that.  They don't do anything to change their lives, just talk about how to escape it.  We focus on what's around us to avoid what's in us.

We go from relationship to relationship and complain that we can't find a good mate.  Maybe it's what attracts you because you'rs broken.  We complain about politics but don't even vote.  We complain about what's on TV but watch it anyway.  We go to the same stores and complain about the same things.  It's really humorous when you start looking at it.  I have started to pay attention to my complaining.  Can I change it?  Do I need to change my attitude about it?  Do I really care or is it just something to complain about.

     Is it laziness or fear that keeps me from changing?  I can't think of any other reasons not to.  Maybe it's a feeling of not being big enough to make a difference, but sitting on the couch watching the same shows on the same nights with the same drink in your hand next to the same person having the same conversation or argument, isn't my idea of living, that's truly existing.  I had to realize that as long as I was sitting there doing nothing that was all I had the right to complain about, nothing.  Getting a new brand of soda and chips and plugging in a movie instead of watching the same show was living a little better life in the same old Egypt.

“If you think you're too small to have an impact, try going to bed with a mosquito in the room.”
― Anita Roddick

The Truth never changes.

John 14:6  New International Version (NIV)
6 Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me

Hebrews 13:8  New International Version (NIV)
8 Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.

     Dave will be traveling out of the country.  He was telling me about sending his writings to this country to be translated before he gets there.  I didn't say anything to Dave, but I have a fear of translation.  How does he know that his words will be translated correctly.  It may not even be intentional, but how easy would it be to mis-translate by hearing the message through your own field of experience.  This is a whole new culture and words have different meanings.  You have to trust your translator.  

     Being a newby in anything is a vulnerable position.  I have a deep fear of being misled and because I know that God put Dave in my life intentionally to help me know Him, I have a trust in Dave that only gets stronger.  Many times I pass messages by him that I have gotten elsewhere.  One of the reasons I trust Dave is because sometimes he says, "Good question.  I don't know."  

     We have heard many times that a woman's definition of 5 minutes is different than a mans when they are getting ready to go somewhere.  It's also different when shopping.  It's even more different when the game has only five minutes left.  But 5 minutes is 5 minutes.  5 minutes is 300 seconds.  This is what I want to know and it gets me in trouble some times.

     I know a person who is so insecure that whenever a new person joins the group, she attacks.  She basically courts them.  Convinces them that she is good and then plants seeds about other people.  It's really sad to watch these new people take attitudes about people they don't even know because of this one person.  I love it when a strong mind enters the group and obviously believes her own findings.

   In reading Hebrews this morning, I came across the familiar verse "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday today and forever".  There is really no way to get that wrong.  In John we read that He is the way the truth and the life.  If Jesus is the truth and He never changes, then the truth never changes.  The truth is the truth.  

     I was thinking how many times I have told a story and then as I listen to a friend tell what we experienced they exaggerate.  For a long time I've been the person to sit quietly and let it go, but now I have to speak up and correct people if the facts are significant.  It's as simple as if I paid $10.00 or $50.00.  If I tell somebody I only paid ten and they rush down to get their own and the price is fifty, what does that say about me?  The truth is the truth and just because I say it was $10.00 does not make it $10.00

     I wrote my story.  I wrote it all down and got it out of me.  Before I let it out to the public there will be things I take out because they don't really matter.  There will be things I take out so people aren't hurt.  But the story will be true before I share it.  So this morning God asked me how I would feel if I put all that effort into writing out my story for the benefit of hurting people and somebody came along and rewrote parts of it, added to it, and called it the truth.  Even slight changes, like five minutes can change the whole story.  I would be devastated.  Especially for anyone hurt by it.  He knew.  It's happened to Him.  Whenever God makes a point as big as that to me, where I find myself saying, "I get it.", then we just sit quietly, not talking, only understanding the truth.  The Holy Spirit is our translator.  Given to us to understand the Truth.

Matthew 28:16-20 New International Version (NIV)

The Great Commission
16 Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. 17 When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. 18 Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. 19 Therefore go and make disciples of all nations,baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

Attitude

Tension doesn't mean there is something wrong, it means there is something happening. - Graham Cooke

     I was talking to a friend the other night about the differences in our childhoods.  They were extremely opposite.  The interesting thing about it was that we had both ended up in the same place.  We both love God and have a deep desire to learn as much as we can about the truth.  Also, because of the differences, it makes our discussions very interesting and I believe God is using us in each others lives.  I tend to think I am gaining the most from it, but I also believe that when we give to each other we get back.  
     One of the ways adults get children to do something is to turn it into a game, make it fun.  Long after my daughter convinced my two year old grandson that picking up toys was fun, he continued to pile shoes just inside her bedroom door.  He wasn't ready for the game to end.  When God is talking to me it seems He repeats Himself.  Several times lately I have heard the name Eeyore.  He was not happy about learning or anything else for that matter.  My 8 year old granddaughter loves to learn.  She enjoys it.  Everything comes easily to her.  While the other kids are playing at times you will find her reading a book.  My seven year old grandson does not find it so enjoyable, unless it's a new video game.  He can plug in a new game and take off like he knows what he is doing.  He doesn't mind running out of lives and starting over because he is enjoying learning the game.
     Last night, in that stage between being fully awake and drifting into dream world God talked to me.  I think He does this because my mind has closed off the day (what I know) and is open to rest (learning).  He brought up the words, "You without sin cast the first stone."  Right away we tend to put ourselves in the position of the woman about to be stoned.  I myself get a little attitude, "Yeah, you without sin.  Ha.  Jesus put you in your place, didn't He?"  But then we move into the place of holding a rock above our heads about to nail someone else, "Oh yeah.  Okay, I'm a sinner.  We are the same."  You try to drop the rock without anyone seeing it was in your hand.  Last night God said, "What if the person about to be stoned sinned against you?"  What if one of those men ready to launch a stone at the woman was in love with her or even her husband?  It would be more difficult to drop the stone.  What if the person you were about to chuck the rock at hurt your child?  Would you wait until Jesus wasn't looking and get one little lick in?  It would be hard not to when it involves your child.
     Some of the lessons we have to learn are difficult and most of the lessons I have faced over the last year I learned as an Eeyore.  Sometimes I was kicking and screaming, angry and hurling insults as either Dave or even Jesus pinned me down and clipped my eyes open with toothpicks.  The funny part came when I finally got it, stood up brushed myself off and gave the sheepish smirk.  "Okay, what's next?"
   We tend to look at the final result and want to skip the lessons.  Would you really want a doctor to perform surgery on you if he had skimmed over or even skipped a few of the lessons set before him in medical school?  Not me.  When we are interested in the subject, we enjoy the learning, and actually catch on quicker.  God recently pointed out to me that He has put a leader in front of me with a lot of knowledge and learning experience.  It's my choice how much I want to take advantage of that and learn from him.  I could sit back on the couch with the remote and watch some mindless TV program and then ask for the answers.  I've been blessed with an instructor who is willing to share the lessons he has gone through openly and honestly.  He even shares his mistakes.  
     I was learning to enjoy the lessons until a very difficult or should I say "hard to swallow" lesson was put in front of me.  I hurled some stones.  I walked away.  I shut down.  The lessons God wants us to learn are difficult because they aren't just about history, they aren't just about others behavior, they all come back to what's inside of us.  Sometimes we have to think about being the doctor so we can sit through some of those medical school classes.  We hear the same stories over and over, but the lesson goes deeper.  First the stones are flying at us, then we hold the rock in our hand and then the person changes to someone we know.  First we see the giant, then we realize we have to face him, then we have to trust that God has provided all that we need in the five stones He placed in our hand.  First we have to face that we slept with another mans wife and had him killed, then we have to face that the consequences aren't going to be swept under the carpet, then we learn that God still loves us and we are the sons and daughter of The King.
     Appreciate that the Instructor is all knowing, He gives us the answer book and He is willing to wait forty years as we take another walk around the lesson.

“The really happy person is one who can enjoy the scenery on a detour.” Anonymous

Finding Free

“What exactly was the difference? he wondered to himself. And who decided which people wore the striped pajamas and which people wore the uniforms?”
― John Boyne, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas

     Remember when you were a little kid in trouble, "Go to your room and think about what you did."  You would pitch a fit for awhile, never really think about what you did, and when it was time to be let out of the "punishment cage" you had found something interesting to do and didn't want to leave.  Over a year ago God sent me to my room, but He came with.  We started out talking about what others did to me, then moved on to what I did, but we spent the most time on what He did.  What He did for me, what He did to me, and what He wants to do through me.

     It was actually a couple months ago that He opened the door and said I could come out, but I preferred staying in.  I continued what I was doing, learning, reading, watching and talking with Him.  Then a few days ago, He said, "You aren't living out my plan in this room.  You have to go.  You have to share.  You have to be with people."  

     I stood in the doorway for two days nodding my head and agreeing with Him, "Yep.  You're right.  You are right Big Guy.  I need to go.  I got this.  Here I go.  Any minute now.  I'm all over it.  Sure.  Really.... no I mean really?  Do I have to?  I don't think so... DON'T YOU SEE THERE ARE PEOPLE OUT THERE?  What if your other kids don't like me, what if I say something stupid, what if...?   What if...?"  I planted myself in my chair, held on to the arms and let the tears fall.  

     He didn't give me a shove or a swift kick, just constant coaxing until I felt ridiculous for not trusting.  Three days later He had built me up enough to walk into a bible study with very little fear.  The next day I went to a small group and met some awesome people who made me feel very welcome.  Tonight, I'm going to a football game to watch my 8 year old granddaughter cheer.  I'm excited.  This morning I got locked out of my computer, spilled a full cup of coffee on myself at work, cut my hand and tore off a fingernail and smiled through it all.  

    After work tonight as I was talking to God the phrase "Running to your arms" came to mind.  I said to God, "I'm not really a runner am I?"

     He said, "But you hold my hand sometimes now."

     I started thinking about how He wants us to come to Him like children and a story that I heard a pastor tell came to mind.  He was sitting on the steps of an orphanage in India or somewhere and a little girl kept scooting closer to him until she finally crawled into his lap.  I'm a scooter.

     We are all different.  I know people who run into His arms, I know people who stand behind Him shielded by His robe.  I know people who are so nestled in His arms that when they have to reach for something they keep one foot in His arms like we do when reaching for something on the floor next to our bed.  Then there are the bungee jumpers, "Grab me.  Almost got me.  Here I come again.  Oops, got away."

     There's the people who treat His arms like going to bed, they don't want to go until they get there, then they don't want to get out.  The ones who rush in early and leave right away.  It might take me a while to get there, to be comfortable there, but I know I'm not ever leaving.

“The thing about exploring is that you have to know whether the thing you've found is worth finding. Some things are just sitting there, minding their own business, waiting to be discovered. Like America. And other things are probably better off left alone. Like a dead mouse at the back of the cupboard.”
― John Boyne, The Boy in the Striped Pajamas

Love the Sinner - not the sin!

Nonviolence means avoiding not only external physical violence but also internal violence of spirit. You not only refuse to shoot a man, but you refuse to hate him.Martin Luther King Jr


     I knew a man who was so full of pain, bursting at his seams, that it came out in acts of violence against the ones he loved.  One day after inflicting his pain onto others I saw in his eyes a loss of hope.  All I could say is, "Why?"  I will never forget his response as long as I live.  It was not only in his words, but I saw it even deeper in his eyes, "It's all I know."
     That day changed me.  I had a fear of this man like I feared no other person on this earth, but I also had a love for this man that I am only now understanding.  I understood then and understand now the rage.  I understand the pain so deep that all you have is the ability to lash out, though you have no control over when or who.  I can see now the enemy screaming in his hear, because that was the familiar voice of his childhood that is who he listened to.  He couldn't hear God, because he couldn't trust God.  God was authority and abused little boys and girls learn quickly, "Don't trust those with the power."
     This is where my passion is.  These are the forgotten.  These are the abused of yesterday who are the abusers of today.  These are the children society has not only forgotten, but turned their backs on after pointing an accusing finger.  How many of us were screamed at as children only to turn around and scream at our own children?  How many of us were laughed at, only to turn around and laugh at our children?  How many of us were broken and broke our own children?  People who were hit, hit others.  People who were neglected, neglect others.  People who hurt, hurt others.
     Breaking the cycle is difficult.  It's taking everything you know and throwing it out to be replaced by all new thoughts and ideas.  In our society we throw out the old and buy new.  We hire young kids fresh out of college so we can train them to think the way we want them to think.  "They are old and set in their ways."  "You can't teach an old dog new tricks."  God can.  God can get in somebody's brain and totally redecorate.  We find out through Him that the weak are really strong.  That a true Spiritual Warrior fights the enemy by resting in Him.   Fighting by resting?  God's thinking is soooo opposite of the thinking of this world.  We want to "Keep up with the Jones", then find out that the richest man has nothing but all of Jesus.  
     Paul killed, tortured and abused Christians.  God turned him around by making him blind so he could see.  Who are we to judge?  God loved him. 
     There are demons roaming around this planet wreaking havoc, and likely you will encounter a person under the influence of a demon screaming in his ear.  Remember the words of Paul.  (Ephesians) ¹² For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.  Love a broken child in an adult body.

“Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars. You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.” -C.S. Lewis

    

Focus!

The antidote to my past is not my present being sorted out, it’s me understanding my future. - Graham Cooke

     When I was having babies we didn't have the option of an epidural to alleviate pain.  I myself relied on Lamaze.  The first thing you would do is find a focal point.  There were three levels of breathing to advance through as you focused on whatever object you had chosen.  As the pain increased you stepped up to the next level of breathing.  I still use this technique today when I am in pain and it works well for me.  The more you focused the more everything else in the room seemed to fade away, even the pain to tolerable level.
     When my sister was giving birth I bought her a nice little miniature rose plant as her focal point and it took a little effort to get the hang of it, but I knew it was working for her when our mother stepped between her and her focal point.  After I got everyone calmed down and explained to mom that she must not do that again, my sister got her focus back.  When Mom was having kids, as she put it, "They put me in a bed, put the rails up, and walked away."  There was no coach through delivery, no focal point and the pain was all real.  I'm not sure why anyone had more than one baby back then.  I think it would have convinced me.
     I think this is how we need to look at Jesus.  If you make Him your focal point and truly focus, it will magnify Him and all other distractions will shrink away.  It should be this way in every day life so that when you experience a tough time you know where to focus.  We tend to put the rails up and hang on for dear life.  For me, focusing on what's wrong with me is a real downer.  I get depressed every time I fail in changing myself.  I have found if I focus on God and who I am in Him, and focus on becoming more like Him, the negative is fading away. Whatever has capacity to keep your focus has power over you - Graham Cooke.  My mom stepped between my sister and her focal point unintentionally, but the enemy is very intentional when he tries to step between us and God.  By the time I had my third child, I didn't need to have a physical point to focus on.  I could close my eyes and focus.  It's like the longer and more intensely we focus it becomes a spiritual thing.  It's our spirit focused on and connecting with and through the Holy Spirit and since He is in us, the enemy can't get between unless we allow it.  As my grandson says to me when we play Mario Brothers together on the Wii, "Fooocuuus, fooocuuus."

‎"Promises are realized by people whose awareness of God is greater than their natural vision." - Graham Cooke

Why does she stay?

“I have learned now that while those who speak about one's miseries usually hurt, those who keep silence hurt more.”
― C.S. Lewis

     Today out of the blue God started talking to me about a question asked by many people, "Why does she stay with somebody who beats her."   I think I have the answer.  They stay because they understand.  People who abuse have been abused and people who get into relationships with people who abuse have been abused.  They understand each other.  They understand the pain.  They understand the rage.  They understand the feelings of "being bad", or "something is wrong with me".  They are like two beaten children trying to get what they need from each other to be whole, but they can't love enough because their hearts have been broken.

     People seem to understand when abused people have a huge place in their hearts for other abused people, unless that person is their abuser.  The person who goes from being the abused to being an abuser has the hardest time accepting love because they have become the person who hurt them.  Especially if their abuser said they loved them.  This totally distorts their concept of real love.  They tend to think that God is an angry person whom they will never be able to please.

     To be an abused person who loves another victim of abuse, who happens to be abusing them, makes it very hard to leave, because you are abandoning a person who has already been hurt too deeply.  You feel like you are the only one who gets them, because you can see past the rage to the pain.  Stockholm Syndrome is a similar situation and the victims share several symptoms.  Stockholm Syndrome is when a person taken hostage begins to sympathize with their captor.  I have to wonder if it is people who have been victims of abuse earlier in their lives who develop this syndrome?

     Violent criminals and abusers hate themselves more than anyone else can.  There are people who are evil in this world and one may be the elderly woman who sits next to you on the bus every day, but some people are just hurting.  Then we lock them up together and they abuse each other.  Is this really changing anything?  I heard a group of people saying that a man who raped a young girl should be sent to prison to be raped and I wondered, what if he has already been raped?  Maybe when he was a little boy?  This world belongs to the prince of darkness and when we talk like this it is obvious he is in charge.  God intends for us to love each other into healing.  What if instead of a normal American prison these people were put someplace where they learned to be loved?  Where they were introduced to a God who loves them just as much as He loves you and me?  If there was a family program this person kids would have a chance instead of paying the price for having a criminal for a parent?  The crime rate would surely go down.

     Only one of my abusers spent any time in jail and he was the only one I truly cared about at the time.  The people who abused me in my childhood never paid legally.  If I had an opportunity today to lock them in a jail cell, I would rather lock them up tight in the arms of Jesus.  People need to be lifted up, not beaten down.

“A life lived without forgiveness is a prison.” ― William Arthur Ward

Examples

“The hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread.”
― Mother Teresa

     I was blessed today to visit with a friend I haven't seen in awhile.  I missed her terribly.  She lifts me up without even trying, because it's her nature.  She makes me feel like I can do anything I set my mind to and she makes me want to accomplish my dreams.  I left there smiling.

     I was thanking God for her, when He pointed out all the special people He has strategically placed in my life.  But my thoughts came to rest on one of the first people who ever made me feel like maybe I was okay.  Frank always tapped my heart with his finger and said, "There's somebody special in there, you just don't know it yet."  At first I didn't know how to take it, but eventually I found comfort in his words.  He had a way of smiling at me while shaking his head that said, "I knew you could do it."  He had as much faith in me as I had stubbornness.

   One time the idler arm went bad in my car.  What's an idler arm?  I don't know.  But Frank picked up a new one for me and day after day was too busy to put it on the car.  See he would diagnose the car by the noises it would make, because I would imitate them.  He would ask me, "What was that sound again?", until we were both laughing, but he was always right.  So one day while he was at work, I took over his shop.  He had every kind of tool a person could need.  They all had there place and as long as I put them back clean, he didn't care what I used.  I put on a huge pair of his coveralls and got comfortable on the creeper.  I rolled under the car and looked around until I found the part that looked like the new one I had in my hand.   It took me all day, but I wanted to be finished when Frank got home.  He would have to test drive it, to show his love for me of course.  It all went pretty smooth until I only had to put in the cotter pin.  I couldn't get that stupid little pin in to save my life.  I even asked his teen son to help me and he couldn't get it in either.  I was so frustrated when I looked down at my feet and saw Frank's boots.  He was home and I wasn't done.  I rolled out pouting and he gave me the grin and the shake.  I knew he was laughing when he turned his back to me.  Apparently I had more grease on my face and in my hair than I had left on the car.  He popped the pin in with no effort and immediately took the car for a test drive.  We laughed about that the rest of the night.

     Frank learned after that to get me what I needed and get out of the way.  When I taught myself to put bondo on the cars we were painting, he agreed to teach me to paint.  He parked a back hoe on the yard and handed me the key.  I messed with that thing until I could do anything. Just like a little kid I would wait for the smile and the shake, "I knew you could do it."

     When Frank worked on cars, I would rummage through his toolbox and ask him, "What does this do?"  I tore things apart and most of the time put them back together.  I think Frank enjoyed it, just as much as I did.  But I learned really fast, every tool better be in it's place when I was finished.  Frank was a giver and I learned a lot from him.  I learned a lot about me, just being around him.  He taught me a deep appreciation for classic cars.  I could give the run down on his before I even knew what I was talking about.  It was a '39 Ford Coupe with '40 taillights and hood, with Corvette running gear and a Mustang II front end.  That Corvette and Mustang stuff had to be under the car because I didn't ever see it.  He taught me to tell my kids I love them.  It felt foreign at first.  The girls sat up in their beds and stared at me, while my son peeked his head out of his room, "Mom, You okay?"  But we all got used to it.

     

     I was thinking about God's toolbox.  He has exactly the right tools for whatever needs to be fixed in our lives.  Just like Frank had to tell me what was wrong with the car,  God showed me what was broken in me.  Then he would bring the perfect tools for the job and together we would fix it.  Of course there are lot's of things left to fix on this old clunker, but we're working on it.  The cool thing is I don't have to put the tools back.  He lets us keep them to help the next person who has the same broken pieces.

    One time I made a man so angry by embarrassing him in front of his friend that he came after me with a gun later that night.  I had just moved so nobody knew where I lived.  Months later I ran into him when a bunch of us were out dancing.  He picked up right where he left off with his anger.  After several minutes of listening to him, I started threatening him.  I was drinking and had enough in me to be brave.  After I had let loose on him for a few minutes, his eyes got really big and he walked off.  I wasn't sure what I said that scared him, but it worked.  I turned around to go back to our table and planted my face right into the middle of my cousin's husband's chest.  He was six foot bazillion and big.  As I looked up at him, he looked down at me and smiled.  "It wasn't me he was afraid of, was it?"  "I don't think so." 

     

     I was pretty powerful with Robert behind me.  This reminds me of what life is like with God.  We might think it's our bravery that's getting us through a situation, but who knows what kind of giant He has placed behind us, that we can't even see.  There we are with all the confidence in the world, while God is fighting our battle behind the scenes.  We should live each day knowing He is behind us, in front of us and inside us.

     I think God gives us little examples of who He is throughout our lives to keep us going.  Dave and God proposed I take a big step forward on a day when I was feeling like I could do anything with God behind me, but a couple days later, the fear set in.  The enemy beat me down.  I spent the day yesterday telling God all the reasons I couldn't succeed.  I was waiting for the "I knew you wouldn't do it.", but instead everything I read, everything I watched, and everything I heard held words of encouragement.  I tried desperately to convince Him I am no soldier.  This morning when I got to work I had an email from a friend, saying "You can do this."  My daily devotional said, "Don't quit."  Then my visit this afternoon carried the same message.  God used people I trust to tell me I'm okay.  I'm going to take that step, if I have to do it afraid so be it.  But I have time to read, watch and listen to the words of encouragement God is sending through all avenues of communication.  I chose to stop listening to, "You're not a soldier."  All I hear, "Is your mine and I am with you."   The enemy's talking just as much as God.  But it's getting easier to hear and a lot more peaceful to to listen to God.

“Individually the disciple and friend of Jesus who has learned to work shoulder to shoulder with his or her Lord stands in this world as a point of contact between heaven and earth, a kind of Jacob’s ladder by which the angels of God may ascend from and descend into human life. Thus the disciple stands as an envoy or a receiver by which the kingdom of God is conveyed into every quarter of human affairs.”
― Dallas Willard, Hearing God: Developing a Conversational Relationship with God

     

Knowing

“Any fool can know. The point is to understand.” ― Albert Einstein

     I don't have much desire to leave the country.  I think it's a fear.  If I ever stepped out, would they let me back in?  I have no desire to even see Hawaii.  Maybe it's the long flight?  There are two places I have a deep desire to see.  One is Jerusalem and the other is Australia.  I would suffer through a long flight for these two places.  I don't know a lot about Australia, because when I read about it, the desire to go there grows and I decided a long time ago I will probably never see it.  

     When I lived in Texas, a friend of mine had heard about Washington.  His mother had been here and he always had a curiosity about it.  Kevon could read about Washington, just like I could read about Australia.  We could learn all the facts if we decided to.  The information is out there.  But one year as I planned to travel to Washington for Christmas, I invited Kevon to come with.  The first thing he did was buy chains for his truck.  He made this decision by what he had learned about the state.  Of course the Texans at the parts store looked at him funny and informed him they would have to be ordered.  These were not a stock item.  As Kevon stressed about the possibility of snow, I laughed.  I was familiar with snow and knew we would be fine.

     We spent a lot of time driving around as I showed him places I had lived, lakes, mountains, and other beautiful scenery that only Washington can offer.  It was fun to watch him experience the smells, the sounds and the sights.  After I moved home to Washington, Kevon came to visit. He was as excited to see the state as he was to see me.  We watched eagles (Not the band, but the real deal) and drove to the beach.  My sister and I took him for lunch on the other side of the Cascade Mountains, stopping several times to take in the view.

     Kevon knows more about Washington since he has experienced it himself.  His appreciation for the state has given me a deeper desire to travel to Australia and Jerusalem.  I could tell him about Washington and give him books to read, but nothing gave him the experience and knowledge of being in Washington himself.

     I was curious why God brought this to my attention today, but He soon revealed the truth in it. Then as I listened to a CD by Graham Cooke he talked about the same thing.  God does this to me and it's amazing every time.  We can read the Bible and learn all the scriptures, memorize the verses and know about God.  We can have knowledge of Him, but to truly know Him, we have to have an encounter and experience His presence and voice.  For years, I was content to know about Him and even then didn't know much.  There was fear in getting to know Him, just like Kevon had a fear of the snow.  What would the experience be?  Would we crash and burn? Would I fail?  Like a trip to a new place, we stumble around not knowing where to go or how to get there, but as long as we keep moving forward, through snow, wind or enemy resistance, once you step into His presence there is nothing like it.  It's not something you can experience through another's stories or even a book.  But now when Kevon reads a book about Washington, he has some knowledge to put with it.  "I was there once.  I saw that same thing.  I didn't get a chance to go there, I will go there in the future."  The biggest difference I see, is once you've been in Christ you don't ever want to leave, but I can't seem to convince Kevon to move to Washington.  Knowledge is moving what you know in your head, down into your heart.

“Information is not knowledge.” ― Albert Einstein