I've intentionally stayed away from writing about women's issues or anything related to the "Me Too" movement, mainly because I haven't had the forum, and also because there are many dimensions to the topic. I love women and have a real heart for women's issues. I have two sisters, a daughter, most of my colleagues are female and of course I work in a women's residential facility. I've listened to A LOT of women. And, something happened recently, fairly minor, but it evoked a ton of feeling in me. The evoking of feeling always inspires a writer. So, here I am.
I don't consider myself a women's rights sort of woman. I love and respect what many of them have to say, it's just not really me, personally. But, I do have experience being a woman, no kidding. And, I do have some opinions and thoughts. And, I do want to always be a woman who edifies. I can't stand opinions for the sake of opinions or spouting off regardless of who it offends, just to let off steam or who knows what else. I've got to say, it feels tremendous to know that I can write about this and for the most part, honestly not really care who agrees or not. I never want to hurt, but I don't necessarily expect camaraderie on the subject. I also get the feeling that at least one man or woman out there will find encouragement and/or enlightenment. That's my prayer, anyway.
While I definitely have not suffered the extent of trauma thousands of women have, I've had my own run-ins with and around men. And, like I mentioned above, I've listened to many other's stories as well, whether in my line of work, or over coffee with my sisters or friends. To date, I have not come across one single woman who has not at one time or another been sexually harassed. NOT ONE. To clarify what this means, Webster's defines sexual harassment as: "harassment (typically of women) in a workplace or other professional or social situation, involving the making of unwanted sexual advances or obscene remarks." I understand that what feels like harassment to one, may not to another. I also acknowledge that to some extent, careless comments, long probing stares, inappropriate "compliments" and whatever else you'd like to add, does not necessarily make a man some deviant. Clueless and ignorant perhaps, but not "bad." On the other hand, the guy may be a downright creep. I would say that most women, on gut instinct, know the difference.
As I work through my thoughts on this (writing is so good for that), I want women to know that they are of intrinsic value. And, I want to give voice to the women who can't or won't speak up about how it feels to be violated, whether with a look, verbally, or physically. A look? What is the big deal? The other day I walked into a large chain retail store. The man who greeted me stared at me like he wanted me for dinner. In my head I fantasized about going up to him and asking him if he wanted some salt and pepper to pour over me before he took a bite. And, then I fantasized further about turning around after I walked past him, knowing darn well he was checking out my backside, and saying, "Hey buddy, Hey (fill-in-the-blank), look at me like that again and I'll (fill-in-the-blank)." But instead, I cringed on the inside, wanting to shrink, and walked past. After all, it was just a nice not-so-old man. And, had I explained to him how he made me feel, he probably would've been genuinely perplexed. How very different that would've felt for a man with a female store clerk checking him out like she'd like to eat him. Maybe a thought like, "hey, I've got it going on" as he picked up his step and thought all was awesome in the world! Same scenario, totally different response. Men and women ARE different. And, we can smile at the truth of this, but the reality that it leads to, ends up genuinely wounding women. All the time.
Women are strong. We really are, but there is a soft and vulnerable piece to every one of us. Our bodies might as well be one big heart. God knew this. That's why he told husbands to love their wives. We need to be seen, desperately, in our heart of hearts. And while we want to feel and be seen as outwardly attractive in some way, what we really yearn for, and actually what only Jesus Himself can do, is to have our hearts protected, cherished, and held in the palm like treasure. There is no this part or that part, as if our body parts are somehow disconnected from each other, or disconnected from our heart or mind. They are NOT! Our WHOLE self is this heart and it's inside of us feeling very precious and in need of protection. I can feel women reading this and thinking, "yesssss."
So, when a man bores his eyes through us, or makes a thoughtless crude comment, or puts his hands on us like we are unseen garbage to feed HIS dysfunction, it feels, for lack of a better word, AWFUL. A heart wound of the worst kind. We are not complimented. We are not flattered. And, depending on the extent of the harassment, we feel sick, disgusting, worthless, trashy, powerless, and invisible. I assure you, THAT is NOT an exaggeration. I absolutely cannot get into all the ins and outs of this. I really don't want to. I don't want to hear how some women "ask for it." Let me make myself perfectly clear here. NO woman asks to be violated, EVER. NOT EVER. EVER, EVER. I don't care if she's hanging on a street corner, collecting her bills on a stage, drunk at a party, half naked at the mall with friends, or goes home with a stranger. Nobody ever wants a violation to their soul. I've heard Christian people, even Christian women, talk about other women with razor sharp cutting and it needs to stop. Why would we desire to compound the wounding of others with our pumped up, indignant, IGNORANT, and angry judgments? But, that is all I'll say about that. Like I said from the beginning, there are many different dimensions to this and lots of angles that could be discussed. Like the challenges women can face in leadership, perhaps? Oh, the antagonizer in me has emerged...
All the above being said, what I want to conclude with is this: when I'm alone with God and everything else around me has faded away to where I can only hear, see and feel HIM, that is when I know exactly who I am. By the grace of God, I AM SAFE and I'M WHOLE. I am His daughter and He is my dad. I didn't always quite get this, but in the last few years, I sure have and it's remarkable. Just remarkable. All of us need to be affirmed in this truth, but today I'm speaking to the women. The beautiful, walking HEARTS. How precious you are to the Father. How vibrant and valuable. How SEEN you are! A masterpiece dressed in white silk with a sparkly crown. ALL of you.
In addition, to keep perspective, while I have a heart for women, I also have a heart for men and the struggles and pressures that are unique to them (maybe another blog?). I love my precious husband, Jason and my two boys, Jesse and Calvin. I love my sensitive and thoughtful brother, Benj. I know my dad loves me and thinks I walk on water (even though I've sunk more times than I can count). And, God has placed other warm, safe and kind men in my life. Not every woman can say that, and for that, my heart aches and I see your tears. And, other women see your tears. We must band together in the love of Christ where there is safety and security. Your Heavenly Father has reverence for your tears. He's got the gold plated tissue box and so kindly takes one to your cheeks to dry those tears. He knows. He gets it. He felt it. With Him you can rise with dignity.
What a friend we have in Jesus. Like my new necklace says, "Blessed is she who believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her." Luke 1:45
Amen!
Monday, April 30, 2018
Saturday, April 28, 2018
Passion Poor - Passion Plenty
Recently, I spent time talking with a young woman who had lost the passion in her life. If I could describe what I felt sitting with her, it was "void." No color. No quickening of the pulse over a rush of anything, really. Monochromatic. Flat. I suppose the only intent I saw was a draw to the bleak. Even the philosopher she quoted was known for his pessimism. And, imagining passion wasn't a possibility. I asked her.
It's my observation that far too many people live without passion. When asked, "what gets you going?" I often get a blank stare or shrugged shoulders. These people aren't necessarily unhappy. There is just a piece of them that seems to be lost. And while I know there are many factors that can contribute to this, I have to believe that God's desire is for us to find passion in our life regardless of our situation or stage of life.
I remember the first time I felt a real tug of the Holy Spirit on my life. I was 17 and sitting in church listening to someone talk about SWIM (summer workshop in missions). I felt a pull on my heart and I couldn't contain the tears. I knew I had to go and I was both afraid and exhilarated at the same time. So, that summer, three other girls and I stayed with a couple families in Rockford, Michigan for five weeks. It might as well have been across the country for how homesick I felt. During the day we led a Daily Vacation Bible School, canvassed the neighborhoods handing out Bible tracts, worked at a local thrift store, went on outings with the church's youth group and I can't remember what else we did but I DO remember one of the men we talked to as we canvassed the neighborhood. We walked up his driveway and talked for a little while. I remember him telling us that he was an atheist and while he was respectful of us, he was firm about his belief. I remember speaking up, shyly, and sharing that even if we put all of the God "stuff" aside, there was still the question of the moon, stars, sun, sky, trees, grass and flowers. He was contemplative. Quiet. We said goodbye but I never forgot about him. That was 31 years ago and I still think about him sometimes.
Our nights were spent literally going from one congregant's house to the next for dinner. It was comical because the mothers of boys in the congregation actually fought over having us for dinner. It got exhausting for me having dinner at someone's house every night. Fancy dinners with big spreads, desserts, good manners, and having to make conversation with strangers was a nightly rock climb for an introvert like myself. One night we ate at a house that had all boys. It was a pretty awkward family. Nobody talked. Not even the parents. They were what I'd describe as staunch, white, Dutch, and VERY Christian Reformed. Yeah, I know some of you know what I'm talking about. It was one of those dinners where all you pretty much heard were the forks clanking against the plates with eyes intent on the mashed potatoes. After dinner the dad read from the Bible and by this time the four of us girls had about had it. All it took was for one of us to let out a small laugh and we could hardly contain ourselves. The more we tried to hold it in through the Bible reading nobody was listening to, the worse it got until we all started to laugh. Not blatantly. But one gasp here, another one there, holding our stomachs, bobbing up and down. As soon as the Bible reading and praying process was complete, we made up an excuse that we needed to go. But, before we could actually walk away from the table, we stood there looking at the cloth chair our friend had been sitting on. There was a big wet pee stain on it from the strenuous effort it had taken her not to laugh! It was the final act at the awkward Dutch Comedy Barn and we hightailed it out of there to the car. I'm sure the mother was muttering, "bedankt voor niks" as she scrubbed the chair with Pinesol and a rag. (Thanks for nothing!)
Needless to say, we weren't invited back and we didn't marry any of those boys.
While the memories of the man I spoke to and the comedy dinner are pretty sharp in my mind, the trip as a whole was one big seed that the Lord planted in my life. There were other seeds as well. Trips as a little girl to go with my dad on the (gigantic) garbage truck in the city. The way my parents cared about people and opened their home to anyone and everyone. The Olive Branch Mission my dad took me to as an adolescent. Even painful situations that had me finding God at a young age and finding Him in an even greater way as I came into adulthood. There was a theme in my life and it was people. I had a heart for the broken. I was a protector. I remember being 11 and thinking that some day I was going to work in an orphanage. At 22 I got my first real job in mental health and at 48 I'm back at it again. I believe I was created in my mother's womb with real purpose and God-given desires.
But, what about you? When you look back on your life through the good and bad, what seeds do you think God laid in your path along the way? I say with confidence that there were some. Even looking at today, what gets you going? What kinds of things matter to you? It doesn't have to look like anyone else. I'm talking about unique, YOU. What do you enjoy? What are you good at? And, I know from experience, some of you are saying, "nothing." So, let's go at it a different way, then. Are you warm? Kind? Helpful? Do you care about others? I bet you are and I bet you do. I'm not even talking about a career or a job, or a title, or some crazy worldly ability. I'm talking about passion that is rooted in Jesus and spurs you into action that honors and glorifies HIM. What stirs your heart? What experience in your life has changed you and how can you use it to make a difference for someone else? What thing did you put on the back burner because life got in the way? Is there a dream there somewhere? Or, a thought like, "I always wanted to do ______."
If you can answer even one of those questions and follow it up with a prayer asking God how you can do this for HIM, you will find passion and more. A love of baking can be used for Him. Working on cars can be used for Him. A painful experience can be used for Him. The key to the passion is doing it with and for Jesus Christ, whatever it is. We serve an exciting, passionate, creative and imaginative God!
"For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." Ephesians 2:10
"Each one of you should live his life with the gifts the Lord has given him." 1 Corinthians 7:17
"May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed." 2 Chronicles 15:7
And, I LOVE this! It's always great to read a scripture you don't remember reading before. This man (Bezalel) was given the ability to be creative as he worked on the tabernacle of God:
"See, the Lord has called by name Bezalel the son of Uri, son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah; and he has filled him with the Spirit of God, with skill, with intelligence, with knowledge, and with all craftsmanship, to devise artistic designs, to work in gold and silver and bronze, in cutting stones for setting, and in carving wood, for work in every skilled craft." Exodus 35:30-33
Please be encouraged in this area. God has something for YOU! Talk with Him about it. No more passion poor. How about passion PLENTY?
It's my observation that far too many people live without passion. When asked, "what gets you going?" I often get a blank stare or shrugged shoulders. These people aren't necessarily unhappy. There is just a piece of them that seems to be lost. And while I know there are many factors that can contribute to this, I have to believe that God's desire is for us to find passion in our life regardless of our situation or stage of life.
I remember the first time I felt a real tug of the Holy Spirit on my life. I was 17 and sitting in church listening to someone talk about SWIM (summer workshop in missions). I felt a pull on my heart and I couldn't contain the tears. I knew I had to go and I was both afraid and exhilarated at the same time. So, that summer, three other girls and I stayed with a couple families in Rockford, Michigan for five weeks. It might as well have been across the country for how homesick I felt. During the day we led a Daily Vacation Bible School, canvassed the neighborhoods handing out Bible tracts, worked at a local thrift store, went on outings with the church's youth group and I can't remember what else we did but I DO remember one of the men we talked to as we canvassed the neighborhood. We walked up his driveway and talked for a little while. I remember him telling us that he was an atheist and while he was respectful of us, he was firm about his belief. I remember speaking up, shyly, and sharing that even if we put all of the God "stuff" aside, there was still the question of the moon, stars, sun, sky, trees, grass and flowers. He was contemplative. Quiet. We said goodbye but I never forgot about him. That was 31 years ago and I still think about him sometimes.
Our nights were spent literally going from one congregant's house to the next for dinner. It was comical because the mothers of boys in the congregation actually fought over having us for dinner. It got exhausting for me having dinner at someone's house every night. Fancy dinners with big spreads, desserts, good manners, and having to make conversation with strangers was a nightly rock climb for an introvert like myself. One night we ate at a house that had all boys. It was a pretty awkward family. Nobody talked. Not even the parents. They were what I'd describe as staunch, white, Dutch, and VERY Christian Reformed. Yeah, I know some of you know what I'm talking about. It was one of those dinners where all you pretty much heard were the forks clanking against the plates with eyes intent on the mashed potatoes. After dinner the dad read from the Bible and by this time the four of us girls had about had it. All it took was for one of us to let out a small laugh and we could hardly contain ourselves. The more we tried to hold it in through the Bible reading nobody was listening to, the worse it got until we all started to laugh. Not blatantly. But one gasp here, another one there, holding our stomachs, bobbing up and down. As soon as the Bible reading and praying process was complete, we made up an excuse that we needed to go. But, before we could actually walk away from the table, we stood there looking at the cloth chair our friend had been sitting on. There was a big wet pee stain on it from the strenuous effort it had taken her not to laugh! It was the final act at the awkward Dutch Comedy Barn and we hightailed it out of there to the car. I'm sure the mother was muttering, "bedankt voor niks" as she scrubbed the chair with Pinesol and a rag. (Thanks for nothing!)
Needless to say, we weren't invited back and we didn't marry any of those boys.
While the memories of the man I spoke to and the comedy dinner are pretty sharp in my mind, the trip as a whole was one big seed that the Lord planted in my life. There were other seeds as well. Trips as a little girl to go with my dad on the (gigantic) garbage truck in the city. The way my parents cared about people and opened their home to anyone and everyone. The Olive Branch Mission my dad took me to as an adolescent. Even painful situations that had me finding God at a young age and finding Him in an even greater way as I came into adulthood. There was a theme in my life and it was people. I had a heart for the broken. I was a protector. I remember being 11 and thinking that some day I was going to work in an orphanage. At 22 I got my first real job in mental health and at 48 I'm back at it again. I believe I was created in my mother's womb with real purpose and God-given desires.
But, what about you? When you look back on your life through the good and bad, what seeds do you think God laid in your path along the way? I say with confidence that there were some. Even looking at today, what gets you going? What kinds of things matter to you? It doesn't have to look like anyone else. I'm talking about unique, YOU. What do you enjoy? What are you good at? And, I know from experience, some of you are saying, "nothing." So, let's go at it a different way, then. Are you warm? Kind? Helpful? Do you care about others? I bet you are and I bet you do. I'm not even talking about a career or a job, or a title, or some crazy worldly ability. I'm talking about passion that is rooted in Jesus and spurs you into action that honors and glorifies HIM. What stirs your heart? What experience in your life has changed you and how can you use it to make a difference for someone else? What thing did you put on the back burner because life got in the way? Is there a dream there somewhere? Or, a thought like, "I always wanted to do ______."
If you can answer even one of those questions and follow it up with a prayer asking God how you can do this for HIM, you will find passion and more. A love of baking can be used for Him. Working on cars can be used for Him. A painful experience can be used for Him. The key to the passion is doing it with and for Jesus Christ, whatever it is. We serve an exciting, passionate, creative and imaginative God!
"For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." Ephesians 2:10
"Each one of you should live his life with the gifts the Lord has given him." 1 Corinthians 7:17
"May he give you the desire of your heart and make all your plans succeed." 2 Chronicles 15:7
And, I LOVE this! It's always great to read a scripture you don't remember reading before. This man (Bezalel) was given the ability to be creative as he worked on the tabernacle of God:
"See, the Lord has called by name Bezalel the son of Uri, son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah; and he has filled him with the Spirit of God, with skill, with intelligence, with knowledge, and with all craftsmanship, to devise artistic designs, to work in gold and silver and bronze, in cutting stones for setting, and in carving wood, for work in every skilled craft." Exodus 35:30-33
Please be encouraged in this area. God has something for YOU! Talk with Him about it. No more passion poor. How about passion PLENTY?
Thursday, April 26, 2018
Dad's Rest
Before I go into work, it's imperative that I spend some kind of quiet time with God. I have to make sure my head is on as straight as I can get it. Some days it's questionable. This morning it was one of those mornings when I knew I didn't want my phone, Bible, devotional or anything but a blanket and my hot coffee. I sat outside on my deck and just looked around. What a beautiful morning! I listened to the sounds and I watched squirrels and birds. I held my coffee to my chest for warmth. And, I cried. Tired tears. Tears of release. And, I thought about how deeply and intimately God knows the human condition. It makes sense. We were created by Him. Not like a mass production item in a factory. No, individually. Knit together like I mentioned the other day. Special. Set apart. God knew there would be different seasons for us. In Ecclesiastes, God talks about times to cry, laugh, grieve and dance. The message to me in the quiet of the morning, was that it's okay to not "do." It's okay to feel what I feel. I've got the permission. It's not only okay, but God actually asked me to please rest in Him. Surrender. Don't plan. Don't reason. Say "no" to anything extra and "yes" to rest. I don't have to solve anything! What a concept. I prayed and asked God to help me let Him love me today, ALL DAY LONG. Not for the two minutes following the prayer, but all day today. Because, you know, I'll forget that by the time I walk on lodge today and a resident has a crisis. Heck, I'll forget before then, probably. But, HE won't forget! I know He'll be reminding me. I don't have anything very eloquent for you this morning and I sure don't have the time. But, I will say this. REST IN GOD TODAY! Take notice of where He is. Take notice of who He is. Let Him do His job of taking care of you and get out of His way. Remember, He is our Father. Dad. Let Him parent you. You're His precious child.
Tuesday, April 24, 2018
I Trust Him
A few nights ago I had a rough time sleeping. I woke up in the night sweating with a disturbing dream and I felt sick. Sick with dread and panic. The things that were concerning me in the daylight had become monumental in the dark of night. It had been a long time since this had happened. I obsessively began quoting scripture as I turned on my side into a tight ball. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart..." It was a chant that joined the other ruminating thoughts that circled my mind. There was nothing comforting about it, really. It was sort of like the useless lucky charms some have lined up on bingo night at the local church. As if the rabbit foot key chain might help them win $50.00. I suppose in some distant way, I was thinking about God, but not with any kind of life, more like the lifeless rabbit's foot. The breath of His word was not in me. I was in the panic dungeon grasping it's slippery doorknob.
I knew it was over the top and by God's grace I knew what I had to do. First of all, take some deep breaths, and secondly STOP with the obsessive scripture quoting. Seriously, just plain STOP. I was about to run through a red light so my brakes did a nice skid, but I did stop. WHO was I talking to and WHO was with me? The greatest King, ever. "El-roi!" The God who saw me. What was I thinking about? I can assure you NONE of it was good. I had gloom on one side of me, with doom (both undeserving of being capitalized), on the other side. They were having a hay day. And, I knew it. So, I asked for God's help. Nothing eloquent. Just, "help." I then told Him that I trusted Him. There was no big bravado there at all. It was a tired act of surrender. Basically, "I ain't got nothin' for you Lord, but I do have this trust. It's dusty and a little tattered. Almost flew out the window when I slammed on my brakes. But, here it is, nonetheless." I cupped it in my hands and offered it to Him. He took my trust with reverence, brought it to His chest, flattened out his palms and let it spread out over His heart. We matter that much to Him. I hope you know that. The dark we see, taste and smell isn't from Him. In fact, a helpful suggestion for those who relate to this middle of the night trap, is to remember that GOD IS LIGHT. The room may be dark, there is spiritual battle, and the enemy is real. But, he is a LIE. In actuality, you are surrounded by light as if by day. The sun is shining, curtains are softly blowing, birds are singing, and Jesus is hanging out with you - completely RELAXED. That's an image He gave me years ago. The dark is as light when it comes to Him. He is not contained by some man made 40 watt bulb. NO WAY!
I will always stand by this. Those three words,"I trust you", offered to God, can change the course of a painful moment immediately. It can change the course of your day. And, it can change the course of your life. We (me) put our trust in the wrong things; things that evaporate like smoke. But, God is an unchangeable anchor. He knows about our weaknesses and shortcomings. He knows about our sin. Why else did He die? He knew we needed Him. He knows we need His love. Trust from you, that emerges from the ashes, while you yet walk through the ruin, is a TREASURE to Jesus. A treasure! Some days it may feel robust and other days, about as strong as a dust particle. Watch your trust. See what God does with it. See how you are empowered by it. I'm not talking easy or always happy, though that does happen. I'm talking about knowing in your heart of hearts that God has you.
I finally did fall asleep and lest you think I'm giving you some lame lines of Christianese here and that Cinderella got her slipper back, my day was hard. I woke up tired. I was triggered left and right at work. The residents had a lot going on. The negativity on the lodge I was working on, was big. God knows that negative and angry spirits really get me down. I can deal with a lot, but those are easy buttons for me. I was aware of my environment. I was aware of how I was feeling and what I was thinking. I prayed often, even imagining Jesus walking next to me from the parking lot. I checked my breathing. And, I moved THROUGH. I wasn't in a warrior stance, but I wasn't falling, either. I just moved. I knew who was leading me. My great El-roi. My Abba Father.
Notice how many times feelings can pass. Situations may or may not change, but your feelings and outlook will. Halfway through lunch with my residents, I noticed that the anxiety had greatly decreased and I felt pretty "normal."
Today, I still have a little something going on, but I'm okay. We really can feel uncomfortable. We really can hurt, and still survive. We live in an age that throws us so-called remedies for everything uncomfortable, whether a sexy martini (lets get real), a new car, or latest self-help book that has the "universe" providing us a wad of quick cash. We aren't being taught to move or feel. We are losing our ability to cope with and actually work through pain. It is just another scheme of the enemy to keep us trapped and chasing after the wind. That's what it is, bottom line.
But, God has another plan. We can put our trust in Him. His word is FULL of remedies. Please don't misunderstand me. God has put many amazing man-made remedies out there. He also created you and me to come alongside each other. But, I'll tell you. When it's dark and you're alone in the misery. When you've got yourself squeezed tightly, there is only One who offers the full wholeness that we need. ONLY ONE. And, I stand by that and always will. Jesus Christ offered His whole self for you and me. He experienced every dark horror known to man and let it pile upon His shoulders for us. HE IS TRUSTWORTHY. Tell Him today, that you trust Him. Say it out loud. Whispers are okay, too. There are no limits to how many times you may need to say it because His heart has endless room.
2 Samuel 7:28 "Sovereign Lord, you are God! Your covenant is trustworthy, you have promised these good things to your servant."
Psalm 9:10
"Those who know your name trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you."
Psalm 20:7
"Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God."
Proverbs 3:5-6
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean NOT on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight."
I knew it was over the top and by God's grace I knew what I had to do. First of all, take some deep breaths, and secondly STOP with the obsessive scripture quoting. Seriously, just plain STOP. I was about to run through a red light so my brakes did a nice skid, but I did stop. WHO was I talking to and WHO was with me? The greatest King, ever. "El-roi!" The God who saw me. What was I thinking about? I can assure you NONE of it was good. I had gloom on one side of me, with doom (both undeserving of being capitalized), on the other side. They were having a hay day. And, I knew it. So, I asked for God's help. Nothing eloquent. Just, "help." I then told Him that I trusted Him. There was no big bravado there at all. It was a tired act of surrender. Basically, "I ain't got nothin' for you Lord, but I do have this trust. It's dusty and a little tattered. Almost flew out the window when I slammed on my brakes. But, here it is, nonetheless." I cupped it in my hands and offered it to Him. He took my trust with reverence, brought it to His chest, flattened out his palms and let it spread out over His heart. We matter that much to Him. I hope you know that. The dark we see, taste and smell isn't from Him. In fact, a helpful suggestion for those who relate to this middle of the night trap, is to remember that GOD IS LIGHT. The room may be dark, there is spiritual battle, and the enemy is real. But, he is a LIE. In actuality, you are surrounded by light as if by day. The sun is shining, curtains are softly blowing, birds are singing, and Jesus is hanging out with you - completely RELAXED. That's an image He gave me years ago. The dark is as light when it comes to Him. He is not contained by some man made 40 watt bulb. NO WAY!
I will always stand by this. Those three words,"I trust you", offered to God, can change the course of a painful moment immediately. It can change the course of your day. And, it can change the course of your life. We (me) put our trust in the wrong things; things that evaporate like smoke. But, God is an unchangeable anchor. He knows about our weaknesses and shortcomings. He knows about our sin. Why else did He die? He knew we needed Him. He knows we need His love. Trust from you, that emerges from the ashes, while you yet walk through the ruin, is a TREASURE to Jesus. A treasure! Some days it may feel robust and other days, about as strong as a dust particle. Watch your trust. See what God does with it. See how you are empowered by it. I'm not talking easy or always happy, though that does happen. I'm talking about knowing in your heart of hearts that God has you.
I finally did fall asleep and lest you think I'm giving you some lame lines of Christianese here and that Cinderella got her slipper back, my day was hard. I woke up tired. I was triggered left and right at work. The residents had a lot going on. The negativity on the lodge I was working on, was big. God knows that negative and angry spirits really get me down. I can deal with a lot, but those are easy buttons for me. I was aware of my environment. I was aware of how I was feeling and what I was thinking. I prayed often, even imagining Jesus walking next to me from the parking lot. I checked my breathing. And, I moved THROUGH. I wasn't in a warrior stance, but I wasn't falling, either. I just moved. I knew who was leading me. My great El-roi. My Abba Father.
Notice how many times feelings can pass. Situations may or may not change, but your feelings and outlook will. Halfway through lunch with my residents, I noticed that the anxiety had greatly decreased and I felt pretty "normal."
Today, I still have a little something going on, but I'm okay. We really can feel uncomfortable. We really can hurt, and still survive. We live in an age that throws us so-called remedies for everything uncomfortable, whether a sexy martini (lets get real), a new car, or latest self-help book that has the "universe" providing us a wad of quick cash. We aren't being taught to move or feel. We are losing our ability to cope with and actually work through pain. It is just another scheme of the enemy to keep us trapped and chasing after the wind. That's what it is, bottom line.
But, God has another plan. We can put our trust in Him. His word is FULL of remedies. Please don't misunderstand me. God has put many amazing man-made remedies out there. He also created you and me to come alongside each other. But, I'll tell you. When it's dark and you're alone in the misery. When you've got yourself squeezed tightly, there is only One who offers the full wholeness that we need. ONLY ONE. And, I stand by that and always will. Jesus Christ offered His whole self for you and me. He experienced every dark horror known to man and let it pile upon His shoulders for us. HE IS TRUSTWORTHY. Tell Him today, that you trust Him. Say it out loud. Whispers are okay, too. There are no limits to how many times you may need to say it because His heart has endless room.
2 Samuel 7:28 "Sovereign Lord, you are God! Your covenant is trustworthy, you have promised these good things to your servant."
Psalm 9:10
"Those who know your name trust in you, for you, LORD, have never forsaken those who seek you."
Psalm 20:7
"Some trust in chariots and some in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God."
Proverbs 3:5-6
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean NOT on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight."
Friday, April 20, 2018
Country Club Vision
A few weeks ago, my husband and I attended a gathering for incoming Illinois freshman who were considering Belmont University in Nashville as a college choice. We were there with our daughter and her friend. It was one of *those* environments - the kind where everyone is a little uncertain - at a country club with parents subtly checking each other out. Even the students seemed somewhat nervous and giddy.
There was also food and I'm all about food. Pieces of cheesecake almost as big as my head and a fabulous looking charcuterie board (that of course nobody was touching) were spread out across tables. Isn't it funny though, how you know everyone wanted some of that food, but there was something far too vulnerable about taking it, like it was beneath us to actually be hungry. So, leave it to my husband to see the one other person in the room chomping away. It was a man wearing a suit and tie, so surely if he was diving in, it was okay for us.
We grabbed the largest cheesecake we could find and then heaped a plate full of cheese, meat, crackers and pickles and headed back to the table. God knows, my husband and I are Dutch with a side of Hillbilly thrown in. Had I been able to get away with it, I would've been putting cheesecakes in my purse for dessert later that night while we watched TV. But stealing, even cheesecake, is a sin.
In all seriousness though, as I sat there sipping my coffee and eating miniature pickles, I looked around the crowded room and I felt small. I felt inadequate. I was in some kind of perceived country club fish bowl where everyone's socks were clean inside their shoes and purses held high limit credit cards, expensive lip stick, and check books with big balances. None of the women were wearing leopard print bras with pink daisy underwear, for goodness sake. The men had big home offices with mahogany desks, book shelves, and garages with top of the line golf clubs. For sure, nobody's car had coffee stains, dog hair, empty water bottles, or mud splattered windows. The man in the purple sweater speaking with his pretty wife had never had a moment of insecurity about anything, ever.
The more I conjured this stuff up, the smaller I became. I was pretty much at loser status in a matter of minutes. Then, I started thinking about Jada going off to college and I got a lump in my throat. I was in self-created country club crap land and I knew it. What else was there to do, but invite God in there with me. So, we sat together, He and I, and my vision began to change.
There is No vision like God's vision. His is a 20/20 plus. I started to see people. Real people. Moms and dads. Apprehension and excitement. Not golf clubs or lipstick. PEOPLE. The leveling diminished. So many of us (me); we do this often - we stake out the space and person and then place ourselves below or above it, instead of an integral piece within.
There is No vision like God's vision. His is a 20/20 plus. I started to see people. Real people. Moms and dads. Apprehension and excitement. Not golf clubs or lipstick. PEOPLE. The leveling diminished. So many of us (me); we do this often - we stake out the space and person and then place ourselves below or above it, instead of an integral piece within.
To switch it around a bit, have you ever been with someone whom you distinctly sensed thought they were better than you? What did you feel? Anger? Insecurity? Whatever it was, it wasn't good.
Have you ever been with someone whom you sensed felt less than you? That doesn't feel so nice either. It's like you want to say, "Hey buddy, really, seriously, I left my car running with the keys in it today. Trust me, I'm just a schmuck like the rest of us."
God, help us. It's the revolving door to nowhere.
There really is something special about catching God's vision of other people. They go from being an object to a face. From a face to a heart and mind. From a heart and mind to tangible, understandable, and relatable. Sometimes, it even moves deeper to grace, love and forgiveness where before none could be found.
Catching God's vision of others works best however, when we've first caught God's vision of ourself. We are not mismatched losers by any stretch.
There really is something special about catching God's vision of other people. They go from being an object to a face. From a face to a heart and mind. From a heart and mind to tangible, understandable, and relatable. Sometimes, it even moves deeper to grace, love and forgiveness where before none could be found.
Catching God's vision of others works best however, when we've first caught God's vision of ourself. We are not mismatched losers by any stretch.
Psalm 139: 1-4 says, "O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord." This talks of a God intimately familiar with us. This paints a God who loves us deeply.
Verse 13 says, "For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb." He knit us together. That took a plan, an idea, and intentionality. Imagine God's hands knitting that barely perceptible embryo that was you! Your laugh. Eyes. Thumb print. Toes. Gifts. There is no end to who you are or the ways in which God loves you.
Next time (probably before the sun goes down) you start feeling negatively, stop. What are you thinking, feeling, and believing? Can you invite God in? His love is the ultimate antidote and in that will always be the truth of who we are. The more we grow into that truth, the less we will fall into leveling and comparison.
I still get stuck in Loserville sometimes, trust me. The road out of that place has twists and turns. Working this out takes practice and so does seeing others through the eyes of Jesus.
I still get stuck in Loserville sometimes, trust me. The road out of that place has twists and turns. Working this out takes practice and so does seeing others through the eyes of Jesus.
Today, may you catch Jesus's vision of you because its a good one.
Written by,
Dee M. Kostelyk
Wednesday, April 18, 2018
C'mon Up!
I've always had a vivid imagination. Picture if you will, bursts of colors exploding one from another inside the mind of a quiet, non-explosive, shy, and anxious skinny girl. Why bother with the weight description? Because, it mattered. Way. Too. Much. But, that's for a later time. I remember having all sorts of thoughts but rarely expressing them. So, I read. And, I read. And, I read. On vacations my family would be out at a restaurant and what would I be doing at the table? Reading. My first chapter book was about the life of Hans Christian Anderson, for goodness sake! What other 6 year old was interested in old Hans? His dad was a shoemaker, by the way. In case you were interested. By the time I was 11, I was reading thick adult novels. It was around that time that I also grew an interest in writing. In 7th grade I entered a few poems in the Language Arts Festival. One was about the ocean looking like glass and the other was about jealousy. Both ahead of my time. Both very good. Both only got honorable mention. I distinctly remember being deflated. That night as I was getting ready for bed I was crying. My mom saw and asked me what was wrong. I told her about the poems and she asked to read them. She told me they were very good and should've won. I remember this like it was yesterday. It felt like someone understood me. Someone saw me. And, not just "someone." It was my mom.
I didn't talk a whole lot in class most of my growing up years. I hid this anxiety. I pushed it away as best as I could and I did okay. From the outside, nobody knew. But, on the inside, despite the spectrum of colorful ideas and thoughts, I was wracked with fear and self-doubt. (In fact, just thinking about this has put that weight into the pit of my stomach as I type). From college, to my internship, to volunteer work and into different jobs, I was often called on to write. But, it wasn't until about two years ago, during a painful time for me, that the Holy Spirit simultaneously unleashed a big old heart of cascading love for God, AND inspiration (constant inspiration) to write. Both came over me with intensity and in waves. And, the water is still flowing today.
This is my first blog. It was time. I called on my neighbor and friend, Nabeela, to come help me get it set up. Anyone who knows me, knows that I'm not good with computers, numbers (though I can stretch $10 like no other), and I don't like gorgonzola or blue cheese. Otherwise, I'm pretty easy (I think). So, as I sat here feeling a little apprehensive and subconsciously rubbing my fingers together, I had a vision. The vision was of Jesus standing on a stage at a podium. I'm five years old, in kindergarten, wearing a lavender and white dress, with long skinny french fry legs, and big feet. The only thing big on me, other than my feet, were my brown eyes. (Why oh why does this make me tear up now?) Jesus was holding a microphone and He looked down on me sitting in the front row and asked me to "C'mon Up" hence, the title of my first blog. I walked up the stairs to the stage and looked at Him as He handed me the microphone. As I took it from Him, He looked me in the eyes and said, "Here is your chance, Dee. Go, and speak." Awe man, only Jesus.
So, now I look over the big crowd with affection in my heart and I see all of your faces. And, I feel the warmth and tenderness of my Father above me, the Holy Spirit inside of me moving my fingers to create words I didn't even know I was going to say, and Jesus, MY JESUS, next to me with His approval of ME. Not what I can do. Not how I look. Not what I have or don't have. Just ME, from creation in the womb to 48 year old ME at the kitchen table. My forever and ever Love. That's Him. And, I'm going to Speak. Share. Inspire. Encourage. Get real. Be myself. And Jesus - He is going to take those bursts of exploding color and help me bring them to the page. I am going to "C'mon Up!"
Welcome to HeartstringsLife.blogspot.com
I didn't talk a whole lot in class most of my growing up years. I hid this anxiety. I pushed it away as best as I could and I did okay. From the outside, nobody knew. But, on the inside, despite the spectrum of colorful ideas and thoughts, I was wracked with fear and self-doubt. (In fact, just thinking about this has put that weight into the pit of my stomach as I type). From college, to my internship, to volunteer work and into different jobs, I was often called on to write. But, it wasn't until about two years ago, during a painful time for me, that the Holy Spirit simultaneously unleashed a big old heart of cascading love for God, AND inspiration (constant inspiration) to write. Both came over me with intensity and in waves. And, the water is still flowing today.
This is my first blog. It was time. I called on my neighbor and friend, Nabeela, to come help me get it set up. Anyone who knows me, knows that I'm not good with computers, numbers (though I can stretch $10 like no other), and I don't like gorgonzola or blue cheese. Otherwise, I'm pretty easy (I think). So, as I sat here feeling a little apprehensive and subconsciously rubbing my fingers together, I had a vision. The vision was of Jesus standing on a stage at a podium. I'm five years old, in kindergarten, wearing a lavender and white dress, with long skinny french fry legs, and big feet. The only thing big on me, other than my feet, were my brown eyes. (Why oh why does this make me tear up now?) Jesus was holding a microphone and He looked down on me sitting in the front row and asked me to "C'mon Up" hence, the title of my first blog. I walked up the stairs to the stage and looked at Him as He handed me the microphone. As I took it from Him, He looked me in the eyes and said, "Here is your chance, Dee. Go, and speak." Awe man, only Jesus.
So, now I look over the big crowd with affection in my heart and I see all of your faces. And, I feel the warmth and tenderness of my Father above me, the Holy Spirit inside of me moving my fingers to create words I didn't even know I was going to say, and Jesus, MY JESUS, next to me with His approval of ME. Not what I can do. Not how I look. Not what I have or don't have. Just ME, from creation in the womb to 48 year old ME at the kitchen table. My forever and ever Love. That's Him. And, I'm going to Speak. Share. Inspire. Encourage. Get real. Be myself. And Jesus - He is going to take those bursts of exploding color and help me bring them to the page. I am going to "C'mon Up!"
Welcome to HeartstringsLife.blogspot.com
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