Washing The Blood Out

“A joker is a little fool who is different from everyone else. He's not a club, diamond, heart, or spade. He's not an eight or a nine, a king or a jack. He is an outsider. He is placed in the same pack as the other cards, but he doesn't belong there. Therefore, he can be removed without anybody missing him.”
― Jostein Gaarder
     
     When you decide to get completely healed, face the truth head on, and do whatever it takes to find freedom ... you do it alone.   People, family, friends can say they will walk through it with you, but they will only walk as far as the truth they can handle, then the most unexpected thing happens; they come against you.  In their need to stop at the depth of truth they can handle they will fight you going deeper because it just might expose them somehow.  Fear takes over.  They don't even have to be a part of your story, but as you uncover truths about unhealthy, you just might have something in common that they don't want to see in their story. 
     It's like being in a war and the enemy has POW's deep in their territory.  The POW's are children, the generations to come and the child you once were.  People come along side of you as you commit to rescuing those babies, but at the first sign of enemy gunfire (truth) half your troop suddenly has something else more important to do.  The deeper you get into enemy territory, not only do your comrades stop fighting alongside of you, but the enemy actually convinces them to join his side.  Sometimes they don't even realize what is happening.  It becomes more dangerous the deeper you go, because you don't know who your friends are, the enemy becomes more determined to keep his captives (so they don't turn against him) and it is unfamiliar ground.  It's easy to play war on familiar ground, but step out into the unknown and  ....
     When you dig down into shame and truth about your life, a rage is released.  Depending on the level of trauma, rage can be severe.  The average pastor does not have any experience with this and if they refuse to learn about battling spirits, and if he battles with rage himself, you can knock him on his ass.  Instead of admitting he knows nothing, he continually digs into his old bag of tricks until he realizes you are exposing his demons more than he is able or willing to expose yours.  I don't believe many pastors should be counseling at all.  Maybe simple every day stuff, but in my case, more damage was done.  I had made a decision to trust again, something I had not done in years and it blew up in my face. 
     As you go deeper into the war zone, the spirits that once controlled you now attack you through others.  For instance, I once was controlled by rage, as I dig deeper, others who are controlled by rage are attacking me.  I still get angry, but I don't rage.  The enemy will stop at nothing to get you to give up and turning those in your life against you is a powerful tool.  Don't let him win.  Keep walking.  It's a narrower and narrower path the further you go, because many stop where truth hits them in the face and fear stops them from walking through it.  You have to respect freewill.  It was a gift God gave each of us and we in turn can't take it away from anyone. 
     It gets more difficult and it gets darker, but the closer you get to the light and freedom, the more willing you are to keep fighting.  I believe there is a point when you reach that biggest hurdle, it actually gets lighter and lighter.  Though, it sometimes seems that when I finally cross the finish line, there will be no one there to congratulate me or share in the victory, but that is not so.  The people who celebrate the loudest with you are the ones who have already crossed that same finish line.
    
“There is the solitude of suffering, when you go through darkness that is lonely, intense, and terrible. Words become powerless to express your pain; what others hear from your words is so distant and different from what you are actually suffering.”
― John O'Donohue

Twisting Satan and Santa

“I need Christ, not something that resembles Him.”
― C.S. Lewis, A Grief Observed    


     5:30 Christmas morning, 2016 and I have been up for a couple hours already.  This is just another day.  People don't want it to be so.  I read a post yesterday about this time of year being our annual glimpse into what Kingdom living is supposed to look like.  People feeding the poor, stopping to help a motorist, and giving money to charity are just a few of the things we do during this time of year that we don't usually do.  Me?  I bought myself a donut to have with my coffee.  I don't normally do that. 
     Christmas for me is full of bad reminders.  I have struggled this time of year for the last 5 years.  Facing truth, changes perspective on many things.  You see my mother's mother used to cancel Christmas and have mental breakdowns this time of year.  In response to that, every single year as far back as I can remember, I heard the words, "You are not going to ruin my Christmas.  I never had a good Christmas growing up."  So in turn, she made sure ours sucked too.  When my kids were little it was still about her, but when I had grandkids, I decided I don't need it anymore.  She actually made me and my sister go with the person who molested us to get a Christmas tree one year.  I am not a fan of Christmas trees.  If and when I had one it was for my kids and when they grew up, and if they lived with me, they could get one themselves.  What it comes down to is this: I hate fake.  If you aren't going to be nice to me the rest of the year, don't do it now.
     I am house sitting.  This morning I am looking down on this valley and all the lights on in the hundreds of homes and I wonder how many parents will wake up angry from their childhoods, what they didn't get and take it out on their kids.  I wonder how many will fake this whole Christmas thing from their smiles to their "I love the gift".   We know some kids will get nothing, some will watch their parents get high or drunk, and worse things, but I am talking about the perfect "movie set" Christmas getting ruined when mom explodes because somebody accidently knocked a ball off the tree. 
     I would rather hibernate, read my book and work toward healing.  I don't fake smile very well at all.   I have seen nothing this Christmas about Christ.  I have seen Santa, Rudolph, Charlie Brown and Frosty, but no Jesus.  There is that one short scene in Charlie Brown's Christmas where Linus tells what Christmas is all about, but we have to go back to the cartoon from 1965 to find Jesus mentioned? 
     There is so much deception out there.  Very few want the truth.  I would rather face God after telling only one person in my life time His truth, than stand before Him having told thousands a twisted Satan Claus version of the truth.  I would rather have no friends and tell the truth than have superficial friends who don't really know me because I have told them what they want to hear.  Deception comes way to easy to Christians.  I used to think most people were good, until I started hanging out with Christians.  Lukewarm, one foot in the world and most of the other foot too. 

There are too many starving people eating apples in the dark, so they can't see the rotten parts!

Steaming Ahead.

“Everything was perfectly healthy and normal here in Denial Land.”
― Jim Butcher

     About a month ago I sat in the car with one of my closest friends, one who knows most of my story and I told her my plan to forgive.  I told her some of what I learned about myself and that I realized, this is a wall between me and God, between me and my future.  Why?  Why can I forgive a man for raping me, for molesting me, for beating me and all that horrible stuff, but I can't forgive these two?  She just so matter of factly stated, "Because they are the ones who saw you naked."  Huh?  Being molested and full of body shame I right away
began to scan my memories and that did not happen.  But then it slowly registered what she was saying.  She continued, "Your mother and your pastor are the two people you should be able to trust in this world."  Yes, she was right.  They should be.  Many will ask why I feel it is acceptable to talk about the two of them on this blog.  I know they will deny it, they have been doing it for years.
     Another "Aaaaha moment" in the archeological dig for shame was reading this in the book Released from Shame - Moving beyond the Pain of the Past by Sandra D. Wilson Ph.D.

I once read one of the more amusing revelations from postglasnost Russia. It seems the chief of the principal mapping agency admitted that for the last 50 years Soviet mapmakers deliberately misplaced rivers and streets, distorted boundaries and omitted geographical features on public maps. The article went on to say that the correct maps were still "top secret" in the Soviet Union long after space photography allowed foreign countries to make their own extremely accurate m...aps.

"Pepole did not recognize their motherland on maps. Tourists tried in vain to orient themselves on the terrain .... You can get maps of our country in many countries of the world except U.S.S.R.," the (Moscow) evening paper ... complained recently. "From whom, one wonders, are we keeping secrets? From ourselves?"!

That's a good question - one you might want to ask yourself. Unhealthy families (and church families) are famous for keeping secrets from themselves. And as a loyal child you might still be trying in vain to orient yourself to life with a parent-drawn (pastor-drawn) map of secrets and lies.
No wonder you've lost your way and feel confused. You need to begin following a new map charted by truth. But that won't be easy because in unhealthy families, truth brings pain.

 

 

    I have always felt like this.  I have a different map.  I want to get out, but my map is designed to keep me in.    I have a parent-drawn and a pastor-drawn and I can't get anywhere with them.  So many people choose to live in the lie instead of finding freedom, instead of accepting responsibility, instead of putting others before themselves, instead of doing the hard painful work it takes to be completely free.  This book is one of the few that is changing my life.  This came from the same book. 

 

In a study of 14 adolescent males on death row, the researchers observed that 8 of the 14 had injuries severe enough to require hospitalization ... 12 had been brutally abused and 5 had been sodomized by relatives. Their parents had a high rate of alcoholism, drug abuse, and psychiatric hospitalizations. The boys had tried to conceal all this during their trials. They preferred to be seen as bad rather than admit that they were ... victims of ... abuse. The parents often cooperated with the prosecution (and even urged the death sentence) because they had an interest in concealing their own actions.

 

 

     I read a book years ago on confronting your abuser.  It said they would either deny and call you crazy or break down, admit the truth and beg forgiveness.  I confronted one of mine and he denied, said I was crazy just like the book said.  I knew he knew the truth because of a sentence he said word for word in the book.  It was total confirmation.  After that I held my head up and he looked at the ground.  But then my mother decided to stay friends with him and his wife.  At one time she even had them in a picture on her fridge.  I had told him my parents knew, they all knew, but when she did nothing to support me, he went back to holding his head high and I felt like a pile of dog shit steaming on the sidewalk.  I asked her why she had his picture on her fridge and she said it was too uncomfortable to end the friendship.  See, the dog's comfort is much more important than the dog shit.

     They will deny and continue to live the lie.  They will live in the shame by choice, just like I have done for so many years.  I won't do it anymore.  The truth is the truth and I will forgive them for making me believe I am ... was a pile of dog shit.  I am not.  I could expose the lies, but I think seeing the truth is more valuable.  To find out you are not a pile of dog shit is good, but confusing, because then what are you?  Instead I want to show people they are children of God, not born of their past anymore, but born again.   

 

 

“There is a moment in our healing journey when our denial crumbles; we realize our experience and it's continued effects on us won't "just go away". That's our breakthrough moment. It's the sun coming out to warm the seeds of hope so they can grow our personal garden of empowerment.”
― Jeanne McElvaney, Healing Insights: Effects of Abuse for Adults Abused as Children    

 

 

Subtle Shamers

“Shame corrodes the very part of us that believes we are capable of change.”
― Brené Brown, I Thought It Was Just Me: Women Reclaiming Power and Courage in a Culture of Shame    


     I am having a moment ... this is a much needed ... leading to health ... very much needed moment in my life ... I want to bite somebody ... I want to bite them hard.  You have to be able to name the offense to forgive.  There were moments in this walk when I had "Aaaaha moments" like when I realized I had been raped though for decades I had said, "He touched me".  When you put the correct label on the crime, you can forgive the correct crime. 
     I set out a couple months ago to forgive the two people I cannot seem to forgive and set myself free.  I try to forgive and I fall back to hate, I try to forgive and yet dream about revenge.  Why can't I get past this.  I have forgiven horrible things, why not these two? 
     I had a friend offer to walk through this with me.  She knows forgiveness.  She knows anger.  So we will meet once a week and forgive these two so I can move on with my life.  I began reading all I could find on forgiveness.  The first thing to jump out and grab me was the statement that every person who rages, who struggles to control their anger has shame.  When I went to my friend and repeated this she actually showed me a diagram with a ball of anger, wrapped in shame and then a layer of something else and another and another.  Those layers I have dealt with, but the shame ... where do you even begin? 
     I started by looking for a book on shame.  They are very difficult to find if you want one form a known author.  If you want a Christian known author it is nearly impossible.  I prayed and found Released From Shame by Sandra D. Wilson, Ph.D.   Like most books, you read through and some where in your brain you know this all makes sense.  Sometimes it's just putting known thoughts into clearer statements.  But then, as in every life changing book experience, the "Aaaaaha" bombs start falling.  When you have been molested, raped, beat, etc. the shame is obvious, the offense is obvious, the forgiveness is correctly labeled because the offense is correctly labeled.  Well, it is after you take down the minimizing signs "he touched me" and "he molested me" and put up the correct "RAPE" signs.  Then you are able to forgive and actually bless those people. 
     So if rage rises up every time I think I have forgiven these two, where is the shame?  First, what is shame?  Shame is believing you have the same value as a steaming pile of dog shit on the sidewalk.  What value does dog shit have?  None.  People avoid it, people wrinkle their noses and look away in disgust, even gagging at the smell and/or sight.  Nobody wants to deal with cleaning you up ... or should I say cleaning your nasty self from the sidewalk.  When people have given you this message over a long period of time and depending on the relationship, it can wear you down to nothing.  If I was to draw a diagram of shame it would not look like the ball with outer layers at all.  Shame would be the roots of the tree and anger the trunk. The shame came before the anger.   All those other things that come later such as comparing yourself to the offender, rehearsing the injury, depletion of energy, altered world view, etc. would be the branches that sprout from the shame and anger tree.
     When you first look at the ways you were shamed, you automatically ask yourself, "Did I do that to my kids, friends, spouse?"  If you have the true desire to heal, you have to ask yourself that question.  As Sandra D. Wilson says in her book, "Yesterday's shamed become today's shamers, as shame begets shame."  One of the examples she first uses is a little girl in the public restroom with her mother.  She drops her coat and washes her hands getting water and soap everywhere.  Shame comes in a look.  I received that look many, many times as a child and I in turn gave it to my kids.  Instead, I could have been taught and taught mine how to wipe up the mess like no big deal and move on with your day.  A quick wipe with a paper towel could have saved a lot of therapy. 
     There is a huge difference in my parents.  My dad, who has done some horrible things, is still someone I want in my life.  His sideways looks when I was a kid were more of a "Check yourself.  Should you be doing what you are doing right now?"  He was encouraging.  He made mistakes and he really hurt me when he left me, but I knew and still know he loves me.  My mother on the other hand, was never pleased with anything.  I got the look all the time, I got the sneers and the "You are ruining my life" looks.  Everything I did, everything that happened to me and everything she regretted doing were somehow my fault, because of who I am.  When I asked her why she never hugged me as a kid, like she hugged my brother and sister, I expected an answer like, "That's not true, I hugged you" but what I got, without hesitation was "I resented your birth".  Confirmation, steaming shit, on her sidewalk of life.  It is possible to not like someone, yet leave them with their self worth.  But who, even resenting their child's birth, would actually tell their child that?  The dog who shit you on to the sidewalk.  That's who.   I am beginning to understand the shame, putting the correct label on the crime and know I will be free one day soon.
     The other person I am struggling to forgive hid their shaming a lot better.  In trying to find it, I even blamed myself for trusting too much.  Maybe I did, but ...   The pastor I went to for help in the beginning of my walk was the opposite kind of shamer.  Actually it was in the beginning that he was a subtle shamer.  "Subtle shamers favor rescuing.  It allows them to look stronger and more competent than the "victim" while also maintaining the appearance of respectful kindness." (from Released From Shame, Sandra Wilson)  When I began to grow out of a place of dependence on him the shaming became blatant, from slamming me and others in sermons, phone calls of screaming everything he thought wrong with me, to sending out a letter warning security to watch for me.  If you ask him, he had good reason for all of this.  Oh yes and I shamed him also, but as in the first example, who was the adult and who was the child, even if in a spiritual sense.  The harm that came from this, added his name to my offender list.  Now, a good forgiver, sees that the offender (shamer) had to have been shamed in their life.  I have not healed enough at this point to care, but maybe one day. 
     As I was frozen in my "Aaaaha moment" of this realization,  I also realized how deep this goes in our society.  If raging, uncontrolled anger is about shame, atheists must have been shamed by a believer at some point, races shamed for skin color, men shamed by women, and so on and so on.  Our society, America is an angry nation rooted in shame.  I think I may have my calling.  To understand the depths of the roots of shame and to share the shovel to dig those roots out, can change a lot of lives.  I truly believe you have to understand the crime, the offense, the true wound, in order to forgive it and be free.  And now, moving towards forgiveness...


Overdependents have been called the "fairy godmothers of the world".  Now the problem with trying to be everyone's fairy godmother is that you keep waving your magic wand but nothing happens.  The truth is this: We do not have the magic power to change and control other people.  We are living a fairy tale if we think we do.  And living in this fairy tale about control traps us in overdependent bondage. - Sandra D. Wilson, Ph.D.

Right Brain Drag

“What loneliness is more lonely than distrust?”
― George Eliot, Middlemarch    


     The blank page has changed.  It somehow does not look the same.  Before it was a canvas and my thoughts would randomly splat on the page to miraculously form some idea, story line, deduction, or other word art.  Yes, it was a canvas.  Now it has somehow become very loud, screaming at me, "THE DREAM, YOUR DREAM IS  DEAD!"  Writing is an impossibility.  Communication is beyond your dead brain cells.  Kayleen - 0  Satan - 2
     I went for prayer the other day and I was honest.  I have no confidence.  I don't want to pray for people.  I am sure I will screw it up.  My brain is not the same and I am not familiar with this new and not improved brain, so communication is an impossibility.  Parts of my vocabulary are gone, completely gone, do not exist anymore.  I am too young to feel this way.  So, I stood in the middle of three trusted friends and admitted that I am nothing and I have no confidence in who I am.  How do you have confidence in dead brain cells?  Their response, "You are right where you need to be".  I hated that response until they continued, "when you are nothing and you know it, you allow Him to be everything".  He has to be.  He has to fill in for my dead brain cells and my live ones for that matter, because the dead ones have some how made me see the live ones have shortcomings of their own.  If God does not write for me, then there will be no writing.  I can't and don't want to write without Him. 
     One of my closest friends in this last year is one who faced his own death and won.  In so many ways he is the only one who understands me at all.  Somehow, people who focus on this immature, me, me, me, me, me trivial crap are more annoying than ever.  The person who chooses to put covering up their own crime before a child's welfare make me ... well, they make me ... Ugh.  I have realized that labeling my feelings is not one of my strong points.  When you stuff them for so long you forget their names.  It's a new thing I am learning - Identify the feeling.  There are more than happy and angry.  Who knew?  My thought process is often like driving in a cluster of round-a-bouts.  They put them too close together and I can drive for hundreds of miles in a half mile radius.
     What I started to say many words ago is that the trivial crap that immature, selfish people get stuck in that is so irritating has taken over my world.  In our conversation about Dr. appointments, memory and accepting the changes in our minds and bodies since our illnesses, we realized trivial, what was once nothing to us, stuff has stolen our dreams.  My blank canvas has turned into a mirror and in it all I see is dead brain cells.  Write a book?  I don't see it happening, ever. 
     My friends dream was about to happen in a year.  Money is not an issue.  His girlfriend will retire and they planned on travelling.  Today he mentioned Italy.  They went a couple years ago.  "How do I enjoy Italy, when I can't taste food?"  He went on to talk about how impossible it is to fly.  His saliva glands were destroyed during his chemo, so he drinks water constantly, and that leads to bathroom visits, lots of bathroom visits.  How do you fly with this issue?  I need water, I need more water, 'scuse me, 'scuse me, can I get out, I HAVE TO PEE!!  "It's a 5 hour flight, Kayleen and that is not counting getting to New York.  I went to a movie last night and had to pee 5 times.  FIVE TIMES!!" 
      These trivial things have affected our relationships with others, because when you mention these things, we will call them N.U.T.S (Not Understood Trivial Stuff. -  people want to solve the problem or claim it for themselves.  Oh yeah I get up several times during a movie too.  FIVE?  There is a big difference between twice and five times.  But you look good.  You dressed yourself, you drive, you talk right, you look fine to me.  Get over the stroke, the cancer, etc., you're fine now. 
     I have always been a multi tasker.  Actually I could have been an Olympian Multi-tasker.  My hands could be doing completely different tasks and they each used a different part of my brain.  There was very little reason for both sides of my brain to communicate with each other.  Now, there are people who have had strokes and they drag one side of their body around, scary movie, left leg, drag, we all know the guy, well, I drag the right side of my brain.  It amazingly sounds a lot like the leg drag, but I am the only one who can hear it.  It's okay to laugh.  Laughing and crying are healing.  I can no longer retain what I read, so I have no idea if this flows or just moves amongst the round-a-bout cluster.  There are some feelings, still without labels that go with them, but we will get to that in the future.  I wrote today to beat the dead dream and my friend is looking into a private jet to fly him to Italy.  Trivial crap.


The last refuge of intolerance is in not tolerating the intolerant ...
George Eliot

More wonderings

“Will God ever ask you to do something you are not able to do? The answer is yes--all the time! It must be that way, for God's glory and kingdom. If we function according to our ability alone, we get the glory; if we function according to the power of the Spirit within us, God gets the glory. He wants to reveal Himself to a watching world.”
― Henry T. Blackaby, Experiencing the Spirit: The Power of Pentecost Every Day

     There are stages of growth in life and in relationship.  You cannot have a relationship without a level of trust.  To survive a betrayal of trust is an awesome thing that I am not equipped for.  My past has limited the amount of trust I have in my bucket.  Trust me.  Ha.  In life and relationship with people there is a stage we all come to when we realize people are not perfect.  We keep hoping that there is one person out there who we can look up to and trust to always be a good example, but we are all human.  What I have found is that it isn't the person who does everything right that I trust, it is the person who is constantly seeking God, His will for their life and following His instruction.  Whether they fail or not does not matter, it's that they pursue Him first and with that His will.
     I keep getting this picture of a potter at his wheel.  As he shapes his creation, he constantly adds water.  He has a bowl near him and with a sponge or by dipping his hands in the bowl as he works his masterpiece he constantly adds water.  If he didn't the clay would dry out and crack.  I would say the potter is Jesus, the clay is us and the water is living. 
     Lately I have heard so much talk about Spiritual gifts.  The gifts given by God

1 Corinthians 12:4-11

New International Version (NIV)

⁴ There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit distributes them. ⁵ There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. ⁶ There are different kinds of working, but in all of them and in everyone it is the same God at work.
⁷ Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good. ⁸ To one there is given through the Spirit a message of wisdom, to another a message of knowledge by means of the same Spirit, ⁹ to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by that one Spirit, ¹⁰ to another miraculous powers, to another prophecy, to another distinguishing between spirits, to another speaking in different kinds of tongues,^[a] and to still another the interpretation of tongues.^{[b] 11} All these are the work of one and the same Spirit, and he distributes them to each one, just as he determines.

     These are called Spiritual gifts and repeatedly it says these gifts are given through the Spirit.  It is only through the Spirit these gifts give glory to God.  A teacher may have the gift of teaching, but if the teacher does not allow the Holy Spirit to guide him in this gift, it is not a teaching from God.  Teaching is a gift given to nonbelievers too, so it can be used without the Spirit. 
     Believers connect through the Holy Spirit in them.  We are drawn to each other because the same Spirit lives in us.  These gifts are not to be worshipped, nor the person who was given the gift.  The Lord has made it clear to me that He is looking for a people He can trust.  People He can trust to listen to the details.  For instance, if He were to tell me to deliver groceries to the house on the corner, but I decided to deliver the groceries one house down, I'm out of His will, i am not obeying.  Maybe I decided that the house I chose was in a deeper need for groceries.  I do not know the whole plan of God.  I do not know all the details of the story He is writing in these lives.  We can do good things for people without the Lord instructing us, but we still need to listen because He might be stopping us for a reason we don't understand.  Maybe the people in the house I chose would be offended and turn even more against believers.  True obedience brings blessings.
     I have seen too many people run with first instructions.  If God says, I want you to fill somebody's gas tank" it is likely that he has a specific person in mind.  Now, the lesson or blessing may be for us and He may not care who we choose, but we are really missing it if it we don't ask and listen.  It's the same with the gifts.  If you are given a word of knowledge for someone there is a chance you are not supposed to repeat it to them.  He may be telling you only so you can understand them and see clearer how to treat them. 
     They are called Spiritual gifts because they are to be used through the Holy Spirit in you.  There is a responsibility that comes with the gifts to listen.  We all have a responsibility to listen to the holy Spirit, whether we are gifted or not.  Anyone, no matter how long they have been active in their gift can hear the wrong spirit or can all together stop listening to the Holy Spirit, because of pride.  Maybe they are just too busy to stop and really listen.  Maybe their own will gets in the way.  We have to worship God, not the teacher, the prophet, or the healer.  We have to remember it is the Holy Spirit in them that teaches, prophecies, and heals, not the person themselves.  It doesn't say in the Bible to seek these gifts, it says to desire them.  We are only to seek God.  Our hunger is for Him, not the people or the gifts. 
     Francis Chan is good example.  He stepped down from pastoring a church because he felt he was getting more credit than God there.  That's a disciple. 


“I want to live so that I am truly submitted to the Spirit's leading on a daily basis. Christ said its better for us that the Spirit came and I want to live like that is true. I don't want to keep crawling when I have the ability to fly.”
― Francis Chan, Forgotten God: Reversing Our Tragic Neglect of the Holy Spirit

Is That Legal? Girls on a Baseball Diamond?

“Piglet noticed that even though he had a Very Small Heart, it could hold a rather large amount of Gratitude.”
― A.A. Milne, Winnie-the-Pooh 


      I like to go through my old notebooks and read all my scribbles.  Sometimes a sentence, paragraph or whole page will really touch my heart and I wonder if I wrote it, read it, or heard it.  It would seem that one could not forget their own amazing words, but I have notebooks full of dreams and stories I know I wrote, but don't remember.  My brain has so many parts, each doing it's own thing at the same time.  I have to play a mindless game while I listen to a speaker or I can't focus on what he is saying.  If I don't, that part of my brain will run off on rabbit trails and pretty soon I have heard nothing, so I keep it busy like a small child so the grown up in the other part of my brain can hear.  Maybe God allowed the stroke to show me that it really wasn't bad having all those parts of my brain going at once.  Now there are times it seems I can't get any of the parts moving forward.  I found this in my notebook and I may have written about this already but I don't remember so it's new to me.




     I don't know if this is only for writers or artists, or maybe musicians, but there are these moments where time pauses.  This feeling comes over me that this moment, though it may seem insignificant to others, to me is a place to build an alter.  Something changes and you know you will never be the same.  I was sitting outside of Subway in Redding California with four friends who changed me in different ways.

     One woman, whom I have been friends with the longest and trust more than I ever thought possible is in a place we can't and don't want to bring her back from, because we know she has to walk through it.  There is a pendulum swinging in her heart, taking her from extreme sadness at the realization that only moments ago her grandma slipped from this world into the arms of Jesus and though she feels extreme sadness at losing her, at the other end of the pendulum is complete peace in knowing she is home.  Sadness in knowing she was not there in that moment and peace knowing she has raised children who stepped in and stepped up to comfort others.  Honor in realizing the call on her life to pull people back from the edge of hell, but fear because the first group to call to step away from that edge is her family members, the most difficult people to be "the new you" in Christ and not resort back to the "dead  man" she was.  Crying one moment and laughing the next as she sits across from me on Papa's lap, as He shows her how He has touched every corner of this place she is in.

     To her right is another friend I have walked with the last few years.  She is in a mother's nightmare of praying for an addicted son.  Lord show him, Lord open his eyes, Lord please give him a vision of who he is, she begs her Papa and prays for faith.  God showed up only hours earlier as we prayed for her, but it was not her son's spiritual eyes that were opened, but the corrected vision in her physical eyes.  He restored her vision, she can throw her glasses away.  Who is this God we love and how is it that this is the way He touches the eyes in her family.  After she was healed, she sat crying, reading scripture on the sidewalk for all passers by to hear.

     To her right sits another who I have known for some time.  In the last few days my trust and love for her has grown.  In our few days away from our lives, off chasing Jesus in Redding, she is the one I spent the most time with.  She faced a moment that triggered old pain and in her transparency, I saw myself.  There was a connection of spirit, that has only happened on a very rare occasion for me.  I could see her heart like I rarely see another's heart and it was so beautiful as it struggled to beat even with the old wounds of childhood.  The love that flowed from her heart appeared to be intensified by the wounds.   I saw such a deep desire to set others free and suddenly understood that in releasing others, she was releasing herself.  This friend is the one I would choose if the Lord offered to show one of my friends what He sees when He looks at her. 

     And last, but not at all least is my youngest and newest friend.  She puts fire in those she meets.  Her past seems to be the most like mine, but this woman chases Jesus 24/7 with outstretched arms and a hunger like I have never seen.  She would walk through fire to get to Him and though she paused often to care for and comfort the rest of us over the past few days, her hunger and pursuit never waned.


     There we sat, each of us dealing with our individual pain and challenges that God had exposed to us over the recent days, through ugly moments and beautiful moments.  Each of us caring, concerned for each other as our mini vacation was coming to a close.  I knew I wanted these women completely free.  I also wanted to stay in that moment of laughter and tears, but I knew I couldn't.  As we made our way to the car to head back to our lives, I realized we were leaving nothing behind but the old us.  Instead of saying good-bye to Redding, we looked forward to saying "hello" to our home town with a united purpose of changing the atmosphere, with a decision to bring the anointing, to bring Jesus and to set the captives free in a way we had never done before.
     It wasn't that our time was over.  That car was full of laughter, worship, prayers, our hands reached out to each other as we processed on the way into battle against the enemy, with freshly sharpened weapons and an armor that was a little more banged up, but stronger and shining like it never had before.  We were back to the fight, a little stronger, more focused, never to return to the warriors we had been, but sitting a little taller in the saddle knowing things would never be the same. 


I believe that trip was about a year and a half ago.  I look back like at the end of "The Sandlot" and see people fade into memories and out of the picture.  Nothings the same, like eyes that were once healed wear glasses again.  Were they really healed?  Brokeness seems to have grown instead of being healed.  Cancer, a stroke, pain, abuse, healings, ministry, friendships all those things still exist, they just change positions on the field.  I have to laugh a little and wonder, why don't I write more?  Ha.  Cause I change when I write.  I don't even use my own voice.

 

"You're killing me Smalls". - The Sandlot
    

Shock

“SHOCK ABSORBERS

Veterans scream in their dreams, reliving nightmares so that we can sleep peacefully”
― Kamil Ali, Profound Vers-A-Tales    

     Hollywood uses the "shock" treatment in movies to sell them.  Preacher's use it to sell their message.  We like to shock our friends with good news.  I use this method on others sometimes, but I don't like it when it is used on me.  I hate surprises.  Too many ugly shocks can do that to you.  Happy shocks are okay, but ugly shocks can even ruin happy shocks. 
     I went to a Good Friday church service last night at the church I went to in the beginning of this whole "Okay Jesus, get my attention or I quit" movement I started 5 years ago.  In fact it was the Good Friday service at this church 5 years ago that I was first shook up by Jesus and our relationship finally started.  Now I was there again with my daughter at her first Good Friday service.  It was a normal service.  They gave each of the pastors a few verses of those moments on the cross.  I guess if you only have a verse or two you can shock the congregation with your little part and the whole thing can be a shock after shock of what really happened to Jesus on that cross.  Shocks wear off.  It was good, but not shockingly good until the end.  They brought us to that moment, that final moment when Jesus says Father, I give up my spirit to You and the lights went out.  There was a drum roll on the kettle drums.  The sound of thunder in the back of the auditorium.  The drumming got louder.  The Holy Spirit was there.  I pray He did to everyone there whatever He was doing in me.  I was there.  I was at the cross when the earth trembled.  I could feel it.  The shock treatment worked.
     If you look back over your life there are shock moments.  Often they begin with words, words like, I am leaving, grandma is dead, your best friend has been in a bad car accident or you are pregnant.  They can be something seen with the eyes like an accident, violence, or death.  It can happen to you.  You could be in an accident, a fist belonging to someone you trust could land on your face, you open your back door to see a stranger standing there, or your spouse kissing a stranger.  The thing these all have in common is that they are life changing.  Even if it's observed and not about you the shock can haunt your dreams and affect the way you live.
     My best friend was in a car accident when I was around 20 years old.  She was on life support for 3 days before they unplugged her and she died, but I will never forget those days, that moment when I heard.  I can somewhat imagine what the disciples went through.  Not John, because I didn't go to be by her side.  I was more like Peter, I stayed away.  It's kind of funny to think about that because the Lord told me once, that I was like Peter.  The shock of what Jesus went through and now the shock of His death.  I remember my friends family telling me it was probably better that I did not see her, because she did not look like herself.  She was unrecognizable.  It was better I remember her as she was when she was alive, walking around and being herself.  
     Peter, John and the others did not know what would happen in three days.  I knew they were going to unplug my friend, but would she live or die?  As the devil dulls our senses, we wait ... 

“There are persons who, when they cease to shock us, cease to interest us.”
― F.H. Bradley

Nunya!! Business

  “We received it by asking. This means that even very gifted people are not necessarily mature Christians. They may not even have good character. Therefore, the gifts of the Spirit do not validate our walk with God.”
― Kris Vallotton, Basic Training for the Prophetic Ministry

     About five years ago I went through an intense time of learning.  I was learning to hear the Lord and learning about my whole life, the why's, the how's and the where was Jesus answers.  The Lord used the pastor in my life to teach me to hear Him.  He would speak to me and the pastor would confirm with scripture or facts about him or sometimes say, "That doesn't sound like Jesus."  I learned to hear His voice, what to share, what not to share, when to speak about it and when to pray about it.  
     I will never forget one lesson that took me by surprise.  I asked a question, nothing too personal, just a question about the pastor.  After all the Lord had used him many times to teach me, but this time He said "No".  In fact I asked the question and His answer was quite clear, "That is none of your business."  Instantly I knew it was true, it was none of my business.  This was more learning.  Many times since then, I have been in conversation with the Lord and had Him say, it's not your business.  In fact, there have been times He has told me to pray for someone, but gives me no info on how to pray.  Thank Him for tongues!! 
     I have gotten some words lately from people and they have been wrong.  I have asked the Lord repeatedly, "Am I just not looking at myself or my situation clearly?"  Finally, I asked, "What am I missing here?"  One of these people is usually right on and not quick to speak, yet this time I felt she was wrong.  I have asked several times for Him to show me truth.  Well it came in one sentence.  People who ask God about others private information are usually gossips.  I started looking at the people around me.  The Lord showed me one HUGE clue.  When you are going through something, there will be people who ask, "How can I pray for you?"  This comes from a place of love.  This gives me a chance to request specific prayer, without sharing more than I want to share.  Please pray I  hear confirmation, I wait on the Lord, I have courage to do as He asks, etc. without details.
     Then there are those who tell you about their conversation with God about you and what He is doing in your life.  Really?  You're wrong.  That is not at all what He is showing me or the two people I have asked to pray through this with me.  I learned a while back, that many things are not my business and that's okay.  The deeper I go with Him the more I pray in tongues for people and keep my own dysfunctional words out of it. 
     There is the person who runs with what they think God told them and turn everything to align with that lie, but my question is: If God is against gossip and we repeatedly ask Him about other people's business and His response is not what we want to hear, Nunya business, then who are we hearing?  If we are not open to hear the Lord say "No" then all we will hear is "Yes" and if the Lord isn't saying "Yes" who is?  Many times in my life, I have asked the Lord what I thought was a yes or no question and He answers with something totally different and even sometimes a question of His own.  If I am not open to whatever He wants to say, then I am only open to what I want to hear. 
     Since the stroke, 4 1/2 months ago, I have dealt with a lot of this kind of communication.  I think it's called going off half cocked.  It makes me angry, it hurts my feelings and it isolates me.  The issues of the stroke I deal with the most are fatigue, my stomach does not tell me when I am hungry, my bladder does not tell me when it is full, my right arm feels like it is in a bucket of ice at all times, muscle aches, my night vision is much worse, my hearing has changed as sometimes everything blends together and equally frustrating as the fatigue is my inability to retain information I read.  If you tell me I will remember but if I read it, it goes into a black hole somewhere.  I used to read a lot and I started a book the beginning of the year that should have taken me two days, but all this time later, I am half way and can't tell you what the story is about.  So with all these lovely changes to my life, the more tired I am, the worse these things are.  I choke on my own spit, the right side of my face goes numb, I can't speak well, my muscles ache constantly and I am trying desperately to build up my stamina.  I have had two people, say things to me lately about not getting enough physical activity.  Really?  One was a doctor who was focused on one particular issue, unaware of the stroke.  The other was a friend who I haven't really spent much time with at all.  Unaware of what I do daily, yet speaking about what I should do is just like getting a word from the enemy about what God is doing in my life.
     Ann Lamott says “You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do.”  When God agrees with us on what somebody needs to do, there is a good chance it is not God at all.  We build formulas for healing, for ministering, for teaching, but with formulas, there is no need for Jesus.  We get these ideas in our heads that we know what somebody needs, but how can we?  We don't know it all.  We have to be listening to Jesus at all times and be willing to hear what He wants to say, not what we want to hear. 
     The other morning, after talking about this for a few days with the Lord, I woke up grabbed a pen and started writing the words He was giving me to speak to others:
    
     I could tell you the whole story, every little detail, but you can't possibly know the whole story.  Why?  Because there are actually times in history that affect the story, affect who the characters are, but if I don't realize those times are part of the story, then I won't tell them as part of the story and you can't possibly know the whole story.   This applies to every story, no matter who owns the story.  The only one who knows the whole entire story is Jesus and He holds on to moments that affect the story and keeps them close to Him.  Mysteries?  To know those moments may be to know Him, because there is really only one story... His story and we may only have a paragraph in a very big story.  Maybe only a verse?  Some may only be a word in His story.  Is this why it is so difficult to believe that we are important and loved by Him, because in His huge story, we are but a word. 

    
     Scripture clearly says not to claim your words are His words.  Only His words, should be called His words.  With all the people who speak without first hearing, the people who finish sentences incorrectly, the people who hear others words, but then say "That's not what they really meant", it's hard to say who is truly listening to the Lord and only repeating, saying what he wants said.  Yes, we all get it wrong at times, but we must spend twice as much time listening than we do talking.  Would you want to be misquoted??

“Pastors and leaders must recognize, and then relinquish, any methods of control and manipulation they exercise. They must cease to gossip against fellow pastors and other believers, to talk disrespectfully about other ministries, or to reveal personal tidbits shared in confidence with them. Pastors who have privileged information, are sometimes the worst offenders of gossip. They must refrain from talebearing, before the wineskin tears.”
― John Paul Jackson, Unmasking the Jezebel Spirit    

Hate Wrapped in Love is still Hate!

“A company of wolves, is better than a company of wolves in sheep's clothing.”
― Anthony Liccione

     The Lord speaks to me in parables. When I ask Him to explain something to me, He often times tells me a story in pictures. I believe He does this because a picture is truly worth a thousand words.  This morning I asked Him about things that I know are wrong, because He has told me they are wrong, but I still don't fully understand why they are wrong.  Sometimes I can argue with myself using scripture and that's when I have to say, explain this to me Lord.  If this is really you, then I have to know what I speak for You is true.

     A little girl of about 7 years old walks into a butcher shop firmly clutching the hand of her grandfather.  His Swedish accent is heavy as He asks for roast beef for tonight's dinner.  The little girl loves it when her grandfather makes dinner for the family.  She doesn't know why it tastes different than anyone else's cooking, but He said it is the love He puts in it.
     As they leave the butcher shop and walk along the store fronts, she tries to read every word in every store window.  She stops abruptly when she reads "The best beef in town".  Her grandfather quickly picks up on her concern, "It's okay baby girl.  That is a lie.  We have the best beef in town right here."  He holds the package out for her to see. 
     "Why do they lie about there beef, Grandfather?"
     "To make money.  It is not real.  It is a pill that you eat and it tastes like beef."
     "A pill?"
     "Yes.  Many overweight people like it because it tastes like beef, but there is no calories."
     "I don't understand."
     "It's a lie.  That is what you need to know.  Don't ever settle for the counterfeits, Baby Girl."
     They continued into the street market where people were selling vegetables, small tools and many other things. The little girl waited patiently while her grandfather purchased potatoes and green beans.  As they made their way through the many stands, the little girl saw another sign and read it aloud for her Grandfather, "The best vegetables in the country."
     He looked at her for several seconds as He thought about what to do.  Finally He led her to the stand and asked the ghost of a woman there if they could see the best potatoes in the country.  With pale, bony hands she held up a small pill.
     "Do you see, Baby Girl?"
     "Yes Grandfather, that is not a potato."
     Knowing she was not making a sale, the ghostly woman suggested, "You can slip it into a teaspoon of real potatoes if you want and you still get the great taste, yet only the calories of a teaspoon of potatoes."
     A young man came behind the woman and with much more energy began his sales pitch.  "These new and improved vegetable pills now give energy.  They increase focus and decrease need for sleep.  After just a few weeks of  ... "  his voice faded as Grandfather quickly led the little girl away. 
     Grandfather stopped at a stand with several flavors of ice cream.  He instructed the little girl to pick a flavor for her cone and then they found a picnic table in the shade and sat down to enjoy their ice cream together. 
     "Grandfather, how do they fit beef and potatoes and beans and stuff in those little pills?"
     Bothered that his granddaughter was obsessed with the fake food, he knew he was going to have to explain it all.  "Baby girl, what do you think would happen if all you ate were those pills for the rest of your life?"
     "I don't know."
     "There is no calories, no nutritional value, and a counterfeit taste.  Those pills are basically poison.  If you eat them you will die a slow death.  It might feel good at first having energy and the ability to focus, but as you keep eating them instead of real God made food you will eventually be unable to focus, unable to think, and eventually you will shrivel up and die."
     "But what if you ate them with real food.  We could even put them in our ice cream."
     "They are still poison.  Poison is poison, no matter how  much you eat.  If it is not real it is false.  If it does not give life, it gives death.  Jesus made food, vegetables, fruit, and fish to feed our bodies.  Those pills are the lies of Satan, false food, empty promises.  Even if we stuff them in the real thing they are still from the enemy."

     The Lord gave me many examples of this.  Yoga is idolatry even when it's practiced with Christian music.  Dirty Dancing, even when done in a joking manner.  Slander/gossip wrapped in a prayer request.  Lies, wrapped in good intentions.  The change has been so gradual we can't see it.  Jeremiah 19 talks about burning their children in a sacrifice to Baal.  Now we call it abortion and many unborn children are injected with saline that burns their lungs and scorches their skin, causing them to die.  They are sacrificed so women are not burdened with a pregnancy.  
     Jesus said, Go and sin no more.  He wouldn't say that if it were not possible.  But so many continue to do what they want and wrap it in their own version of what grace is.  How many men and women alike do not consider themselves adulterers yet they are constantly committing adultery with their eyes.  If you speak against gambling, drinking, belittling, sexual jokes, etc, then comes the accusations of being religious or having a spirit of religion on you or judging.  There is a time coming soon and I believe for some it has already begun when we will have every area of our lives lit up in front of us and a choice to make.  Are we going to see the poison and throw it out?  Are we going to focus on truth?  Or are we going to keep believing what we want to believe and continue to hear what we want God to say to us?  It's time to step up and be spiritual adults.
 

“There is no way to counterfeit courage; we either have it or we do not”

― T.F. Hodge, From Within I Rise: Spiritual Triumph Over Death and Conscious Encounters with "The Divine Presence"