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