Dirty, dirty world

Dirty, dirty world

Oh dear!  

My shoes, Lord!?!  

Do you see?  

I'm sorry, Father.  

I only went out walking... 

The mud today was very deep. 

And, now, Lord... 

Do you see? 

My boots are covered in muck. 

Mud lingering up my leg. 

Dirty, heavy, drowned in sludge

What shall I do?  

Easily cleaned, you say?

Stand still a moment.

Simple water will do the trick.

Cold, uncomfortable, but easy to clean.

Thank you Father!

Cleanse my muddy boots.

Wash away the muck of today's world.

Wash my hands, my feet, and my head, too!

"Jesus answered, A person who has had a bath need only to wash his feet"   John 13:10

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #27 Crutch

 

Crutch and Cistern

Broken and twisted gait

Crutches needed 

For far too long

I think I am ready to let go.

Age old mechanisms

Survival needed

Modes to steady

Finally I am ready to release.

My legs are strong now.

Trusting muscles hold me.

Rock hard core

I don't need you anymore.

You crutch!  You, cisterns.

Watered and fed me.

Carried me with stale drink.

My tastes have changed. 

I know living water now

I know steady foundations

Will I release and let go?

Will I walk freely and drink fresh?

Hands off and letting go

I feel the wobble.

Worry floods... 

Can my legs hold me?

As I walk free, I feel thirst.

Stagnant pools draw

Familiar tastes tug at my mouth.

Will I walk free from these crutches?

Written October 2020

John 8:36  "If the Son sets you free, you can be free indeed!"

Jeremiah 2:13 "My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water."

Reminds me...

 

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #21 Freedom's Call

 Freedom's Call

Like a gentle breeze on my face, 

the expanse beckons me.

I am called to run.

Invited to venture forth.

In a brief moment of time, 

With just a breath and a whisper.

I can feel the offer to rest.

The binding weight being lifted.

Shackles loosen.

Arms free... movement offered.

Open space before me,

I am called to run.

Inspired to walk without weight,

Chains left and scattered to the wind.

Energy lifts, excitement fills

I am poised... ready to bolt!

Crouched down, I begin to push off

Feel the exhilaration from the momentum.

A small beautiful moment of time.

For just a breath and a second, I run!

Jolted to an abrupt stop.

I smack into myself again.

Just around the corner, there I am.

I run into me.

Instantly, in that moment,

I am locked again. 

Stuck and held.

Heavy and subdued.

"Who shall rescue me from this body of death?!"  

Romans 7:24

Written August 2020

Sabbatical Reflections: Words on a Page #5 "The Shoulds"

 

The Shoulds

Like Egyptian taskmasters of old, 

the 'shoulds' whip at my back and call me to attention.

Slaves don't rest. 

Only masters do.

What masters me?  What masters my heart?

What I ought to have done....

What I am compelled to do...  

What should I say...

Who I must be...

Heavy bricks, these laws weigh me down.

Bricks with no straw--- quotas unable to ever be met.

These 'shoulds', the load of responsibilities,

A perfect kind of slavery for this girl.

One crack of the whip and I run again---

weary, worried,

wondering when the job will finally be done.  

Written May 2020

                                                                              

                                                         

                   

Creativity Unleashed and the Battle Rages

In an effort to incorporate and 'lean into' a bit more fun in my life, I began watercolor painting in June.  I am enjoying the process and have been painting frequently--- in some cases even losing track of time (which never happens in my life!).

On a side note, that is a definition of 'fun' I once heard.  "Fun is when you are doing something and loose track of time".  According to this definition, I never have fun and my husband is absolutely always having fun!!  Which may or may not be true.

Joking aside, I am indeed having fun!  But, I can honestly say that this fun has had it's challenges and the enjoyment is often under siege.  Let me explain.

I don't think I am alone when it comes to a perfectionistic tendency.  I know that the critical voices, and the judgmental reality and struggle, come alongside any type of creativity.  I have yet to meet one author, one visual artist, dancer, singer, or musician that hasn't had their own battle.  The fierce fight with thoughts of all sorts...'didn't hit that note','missed that step', 'could be a bit more profound', 'doesn't look quite right'...   Judgment seems pretty constant when trying to create.

These negative voices have been loud and intense at times.  Just to be clear, by and large, the 'voices' I am talking about are almost always and exclusively in my head.  ...the inner critic, some call it.  The imagined judgment.  Or, the very real criticism that Stephanie has of Stephanie's work.  She can be really, really mean.

The other day I tore up, ripped in half, a piece of art I had been working on for a week.  I was fed up with the painting and threw it away.  When I told my son, he said (with this tongue firmly in his cheek) "Mom, are you going to cut off your ear any time soon?" (think:  Van Gogh)  No, son... I am not!  I laughed at his words and appreciated his reference.  But, here's the deal.  Creativity can be really hard.  Why am I so mean to myself?

It wasn't long ago--- even a few years ago---that I was in adamant, verbal denial of my creative abilities, at all.  "I am not a creative person", I would say to my husband.  He disagreed just as adamantly as I denied the fact.  I finally understand that every human being, being created in the likeness of our Father, is 'creative' by nature.  We create all the time, just as He creates all the time.  Call it cooking, baking, email, organization...  Call it what you like, we---as beings---create.  We are made to create beautiful, wonderful, and new things every single day.

Anyway, so... yes, I am creative.  So are you.  But, unlike God--- I create imperfectly.  And, there lies the rub.  I have been wrestling within this battle, indeed, as I paint, or write, or speak... sometime even when I cook!

Is my Father judging my picture?  Is He pointing out the flaws in the brush strokes or angle?  No!  By no means!  We, ourselves, are better parents than that, right?  What do we do when our children bring us their art work? We oooo and we ahhh and we enjoy the beauty they create--- pasting it to our refrigerators and posting it to our walls!

Why?  Why are we so mean to ourselves?  I know I am not alone.

Yesterday another friend voiced her creative struggle.  With deep frustration she blurted out, "But... I keep thinking... what is the point?  Why am I even doing this?  What does it produce?"

She vocalized a second problem and battlefield within creativity:  pragmatism.

Second to perfectionism is the issue of pragmatism.  Ah... the modern idea that everything has to be useful or practical.  And, if I am anything, I am practical--- practical to a fault.

My watercolor paintings have very little (if any) use.  Okay, yes,... to ease this discomfort, I have made a few birthday cards.  That's practical!  But, really, I now own a pile---ever deepening pile--- of 'useless' paintings.  Sunsets, buildings, landscapes, flowers.  Why?  For what purpose?

Oh the battle rages!

Immediately when she said those words in frustration, I understood.  I deeply understood.  But, on the heels of the understanding was---literally--- a picture of a bright flower in a field of wild flowers, followed by the image of a giraffe.  A flower and a giraffe.  That's what came to mind.  Flower... bright and beautiful.  Here today and gone tomorrow.  Why?  What purpose is that splash of color?  And, a giraffe...  why?  So creative and so weird and ...fun and bold and bright.  Beautiful.  Why?

So, as the creation battle continues to rage, I will press in and lean into the fun.  I will make color on page... I tell myself.  I am creative, just like my God.  He splashes color on a page every single day.  So can I.

I will paint the weird, fun, bold and bright.  And, like a child... I can do this for no "purpose" and my Father can enjoy it, in all it's imperfection.

As a beluga whale was made to swim.  I was made to create.  So, create I must!  And, maybe, just maybe I will have fun and loose track of time.

God Laughs

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I think God laughed at me.

I am pretty sure of it, actually.  I can't say I heard audible laughter---just something deep and profound---

... seriously, I am pretty sure God had a good ol' chuckle.

There has been an issue that has tormented me my whole life long... since the earliest of years in my life.  This issue, I have written on this blog numerous times, can only be summed up in two words:  gluttony and vanity.  Big, ugly words, right?

Seasons of this struggle have been harder than others, to be sure.  Through the years, at times, I have felt lovely green pastures of freedom and rest.  But, recently the valley of this struggle and the temptations have been dark, intense, and stifling.  ...not to sound too dramatic.  Honestly, though, it can be constant and it can be suffocating.

Gluttony for me can be defined as the focus on food...  too much, too little, the right kind, the wrong kind, the taste, and the lust for---

Vanity for me can be defined as the focus on my body shape, type, weight, or being admired for my outward appearance---

Even as I write these things so black and white on the screen, I can feel the heat of shame and the embarrassment rising up my neck.  Bear with me, please.

I just finished an excellent book, It's Not How You Look, It's What You See by Lisa Bevere.  Funnily, it was handed to me by a co-worker who offered it into my hands as a "resource" for others.  Because, of course, I couldn't possibly struggle with such an issue.  Right?  Someone so "seasoned" in my relationship with the Lord.  Ugh... the masks and the assumptions we make about each other!!  Yes, I struggle with this!  And, boy-oh-boy is it a doosy in my heart.  Lord, have mercy.  

In this book Lisa Bevere, deals with this issue head-on and calls it exactly what it is...  idol worship.  Even in my crazy honesty here--- I will easily name it issue.  Today, I call it sin.

Idol worship.  Wow.  My struggle is that I worship a particular body type.  I worship "thin".  I worship a particular weight on the scale.  I worship food and what I think it will feed in me... the taste, the substance, the filling.  It is a terrible cycle.

I am asking God to instruct my heart in this... to write new truth in my life.  With David in Psalm 32:8, I am asking God to "instruct and teach me in the way I should go."

Today, afresh, I repent.  I choose to resist the world's (and my) definitions.  I choose to crush the idol of thin.  I choose to smash the idol of food.  I am done with the fear of fat and the lie that chocolate is what I need/deserve this afternoon.  I am done with my solutions, my plans, my ideas, and my way forward.

For the last six months, I have been counting calories for the first time in my life.  With keen awareness of this sin-reality in my heart, I have never owned a scale and never been on a diet.  Weird, I know, for someone who struggles with this sin.  I just knew these would be destructive for me. 

But, in desperation, six months ago, I started using a phone app to count calories.  Faithfully, I have been eating the "right" amount of calories that would ensure weight loss.  It is just mathematics, right?

According to my app, I should have dropped 15 lbs... 

I haven't lost a single pound.  Not a gram.  Not a single ounce.  (I am weighing myself like a crazy lady at the local pharmacy---due to "no scale rule!")  NOT a single pound.

Friday, I was out and about town and jumped on the scale.  It read the exact same number it always does (yes, I know the scale works!).
Exact.  Same. Number.

Like the punch line of a joke.  There is the number---staring right back at me.  And, I just stood there.   Really!?  When I stepped off the scale this time, I knew that God was laughing... 
I could just hear/feel/sense His big, belly, friendly, love-filled laughter---  Really, Stephanie?  Really...? 

Does that sound cruel?  It really wasn't.  It didn't feel cruel even at the time.  He was laughing at me, with me... all around me.  Another one of His miracles--- His cosmic jokes.  He miraculously kept the weight on.

As I walked home with His laughter in my heart, whispers filled my mind...  Weight is an ugly idol, Stephanie.  You aren't going to loose weight this way.  It isn't going to happen.  So give up the number.  That is not the point.  Let it go.  Can you let it go, Stephanie? 

I could feel beautiful agreement and submission in my heart...  I feel strong and healthy, Lord.  I want to take good care of this tent.  That's all, Lord.  I know that You alone are my hope, my happiness, my fullness, my joy... not these other things.  

Through the following days, I ponder and I pray.  I repent and I sit.  What is the point, Stephanie?  What are you really after?  Why?  I will instruct Your heart in the way You should go.  I will teach You new things.  

It wan't the first time.  I am certain it won't be the last...
But, yep.  God laughed at me. And, I most certainly won't be getting on a scale anytime soon.

Where are You?

There are days when God feels very far away.  Or, maybe I might say my relationship with Him isn't great---isn't close.

In the Kazakh language, when translating the common Biblical phrase "in Christ", the term "tightly bound together with Christ" was used.

We know that this closeness... this depth of relationship is available.  But, sometimes it feels far away---out of reach.

I am realizing that on those days---or in those seasons---in reality, it is me who is very far away.  As trite as it can sound, it is not that God has moved or changed.  It is me who is far away.  And, in truth, I am not 'far away from God'--- He is ever close.  In fact, I am far from me.

In these moments, it isn't that I can't find God.  It is that I can't find myself.

I have been wandering for days and nights recently in the feeling of "far away".  David's Psalms bouncing through my head, "Where are you, O God!? Why are you far from me?  Will you remain distant forever, angry at me forever?"...these words ringing in my ears through the watches of the night, I have been tossed and turned with angst and exhaustion.

Realization hit today, though, as I finally sat long enough to ask the heart question of myself, "Where are you, O Stephanie?"

Where are you...  

God asks that of Adam and Eve those first fitful, painful, disastrous moments in recorded time.

Where are you, O Stephanie?  

Given time, pen and paper, a bit of quiet, and a reluctantly-willing heart, I sat and asked myself the very question that God asked Adam.

The answer wasn't pretty.  I, too, was hiding.  Hiding in shame.  Angry at myself for sin and choices to run away.  I was tired.  I was sad... profoundly sad. Under the anger sat frustration, embarrassment, worry, fear, hurt, insecurity, sadness, judgment, and pain.

While this may sound over-dramatic, I truly believe these are the feelings of every day life:  Everyone's every day life.   I just think we are really good at hiding from ourselves.

After prayerfully listening, to the best of my vulnerability, to my heart and asking where I was...  I sat for another moment.  And, the thought dawned on me...

You O Lord, where are you?

The same place I have always been.  I am.  Here.  Creator.  Sustainer.  Redeemer.  Rock.  Alpha and Omega.  I am Under...Over...In...you.  I am.  

I am Love.  

I used to feel that God would move far away or I couldn't find Him.  But, I am most certainly the one who moves...  I so easily move away from myself, from others, and ultimately from Him.

I have heard this trite saying, too... many times.  But, today, I experienced Him walking in my garden with me and asking me to stop and answer the age old question... Where are you?

What does freedom look like?

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When talking about our fragile bodies, the word "mass" is never a good word. Mass is just a bad, bad word.

When the word mass comes with a measurement of length and depth and is found in your 17 year old daughter's abdomen... well, it is an absolutely sickening, horrid word.

She had been in pain.  We knew that the daily pain had been increasing... with frequency and intensity.  But, you just never expect.  We didn't expect it.

On January 14th, they found a mass in my daughter's upper abdomen.  The ultrasound tech poked, prodded and spent an extra 20 minutes measuring and trying to discern the realities of this mass.   In that beautifully new, pristine white, sterile, cold room, the doctor explained that there was a 3.6 cm x 3.5 cm x 1.5 cm mass.  He showed us the sonogram---there it was, plain as day...even to an untrained eye.   It needed more investigation and he scheduled a CT scan for the following day.

The next 48 hours was a wild mix of emotions.

We were in a different, foreign country.  We had only arrived the day before.  My husband was scheduled to speak at a 400 person conference in Asia on the topic of "Freedom".

Freedom.

For the past three months, as he had been preparing his lessons for the conference, it had become our family mantra, "What does freedom look like in this, Lord?"  ...when my email account is failing, when my friend is in depression, when my unsaved family member is in the hospital, when I spill beetroot juice on my white sweater, when the university decisions for our kids hang in the balance, when we are grieving the upcoming launch of our girl.... In these things, small and large, what does freedom look like?  

In jet-lag, in shock, in someone else's home.  With this news... what did this mean?  What was next? The mantra question just hung there around us, whispering into my soul.

What, Lord, does freedom look like in the midst of this?  

After we sent out an email to let our prayer partners know of the mass... the email responses began to come in.  Our friends, so many of our friends, were standing with us.  Praying, they wrote.  One after another wrote to us and told us, "We are praying!"  Our family, our friends... they were praying for us. These emails were a sweet balm.  As they came into our inbox, we read them together, prayed and felt the comfort of Father's kids worldwide standing in the gap.  Asking.  Pleading. Praying.

Our friends who live in this foreign land---they cooked for us, shuttled us to and from the hospital, prayed with us.  Laughed with us.  Cried for us.

Freedom looked like being the weak ones---the ones in desperate need of prayer and help.  Freedom looked like the comfort of the Body of Christ.  Freedom looked like unhindered asking... His kids knowing God's heart, His power and the possibilities asking on our behalf.  

For those who follow this blog regularly, or know me personally, you will know I am not a big "crier".  I don't cry easily.   I have often said that I have plenty of tears inside, they just don't seem to make their way out of me!  My crying friends  (which tend to be some of my favorite people) know that I envy them.  I tell my free-to-cry friends often what a gift their tears are to me.  If only... If only I could cry like that!

These past months, though, something beautiful has been shifting in me.  I finally asked a free-crying-friend to pray for me.  I asked her to ask the Lord to give me the gift of tears.  He has been answering.  Slowly but surely, I am crying!  ...weeping, in fact, at times.  I rejoice in this health.  I am still not a "crier"...and I don't anticipate that my personality will change... but, I am more free to allow the heavy, hard, tear-filled pain come and have it's way.  I am finding freedom to feel. Freedom to be sad---deeply sad---I am finding freedom to cry.

What, Lord, does freedom look like in the midst of this?

So, with this horrid, terrifying news, I quietly excused myself to the guest room...and I wept.  I wept freely and with faith that He was with me, He was hearing.  Lament in the purest form... I poured out my heart in tears to the Lord.  Pain,    pain,    pain... that was all the words that came with the tears. Just deep pain.

My baby girl.  My darling baby girl.

Pain. Pain. Pain.

Freedom in the Lord looked like pain and tears for me that night.  Freedom looked like feeling. Lament and surrender wrapped up in pain... there was deep freedom.

48 hours of deep pain...  waiting, watching, feeling...

As we waited in the hospital for the next poke, the gross green-colored juice to drink, and the IV... my daughter began to sing a song.  I don't remember what song it was... but it was quiet and it was worship.  It was surrender.  We joined her and sang.  A quiet singing in the busy, bustling hospital room. Freedom looked like surrender.  Freedom looked like worship.

On January 16th, the very same doctor looked at us and shook his head, shrugging his shoulders.  He said he couldn't explain the discrepancy.  The mass was gone.  The CT scan showed a clean, pristine, beautiful abdomen.  No mass.  No problems.  All was "healthy and good" in my girl's abdomen, he said.

It's a miracle!  I said this without really thinking.  It just popped out of my mouth as an exclamation. "We asked Jesus to take it away!" I told him.  He just shrugged his shoulders and smiled.  "There is no mass," he said.

No mass, he said.  These are good, good words.

We walked away with two CDs in our hands:  an ultrasound with a mass and CT scan without a mass.  Walking away with a documented miracle, and deep relief, my daughter and I jumped, danced and cried in the hospital!  Right there in that place, we freely expressed our joy.

Freedom looked like proclamation and witness.  Freedom looked like profession of joy, praise and worship---  Dancing and crying and hugging... looking a bit "mad" I am sure to any on-looker.

As we exited the hospital, aware that we wouldn't be back anytime soon, the phrase came into my heart... He said "yes!"

He said yes...  

I knew that freedom looked like receiving and rejoicing in His "yes" to our asking, our praying, our pleading.  Freedom looked like knowing He sometimes says "no"... but, today, He said yes.   Trusting Him for His answers.  The freedom to ask and to trust His kind, His all-knowing heart...

In this... In this there is freedom.

What Lord does freedom look like in this?  

...freedom looked like being exactly who I am with and in Jesus.  ...Needy and weak.  ...Honest and real.  ...it looked like surrender and worship.  Weeping. lamenting, rejoicing and laughing.  ...freedom looked like asking, hoping, pleading, expecting.  ...freedom looked like receiving and proclaiming.  ...witnessing and trusting.

You Lord, present in the the unknown, the scary, the painful,  the "no" and the "yes".  You, Lord, Present in the lament, the worship and the joy...  You, Lord, are our freedom.  
You are freedom, Jesus.  You.

It is for freedom that I am set free.... (Galatians 5:1)

Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom... (2 Corinthians 3:17)

I am Getting Larger Every Day

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Do you ever get tired of the sin in your life?  I do.

I can feel small.  Narrow and dark.

Some days I wish I was just done.   Done with sin.  Finished. Completed.  Perfect.

I have this deep desire to be perfect and ...to be perfect yesterday, please.

But, alas, that is not how God works, I know.  He is the author...  writing our faith.   He is the perfecter---the finisher--- of our faith. (Hebrews 12:2) He is the one who is bringing it into completion.  (Philippians 1:6)

This truth jumped off the page and settled into my heart last week as I read in Exodus 23.  He reminds His people that He is indeed leading them and will bring them to the land.  He tells them that He, Himself, will destroy all enemies---all those that will cause them harm.  But, ...  BUT... He tells them,

"But, I will not drive them out in a single year, because the land will become desolate and the wild animals are too numerous for you.  Little by little, I will drive them out before you, until you have increased enough to take possession of the land."  

Little by little, I will drive them out... 

All these enemies of my soul... the sin, the pain and wounds, the flesh, the temptations, the devil... He is driving them out, to be sure!  And, He will complete His work.  But... little by little.

I have always seen this truth play out in my life.  The "distrust and unbelief" issue in my life that He has been driving out.  Little by little.  Do you trust me now?  Stephanie, now, do you believe me? 

Yes, Lord, I believe!!

Good, He says, that was the 'Amorites' of distrust.  Now let's get to work on the 'Hittites' of unbelief... and next year we will grapple with the Jebusites.  "I will be an enemy to your enemies.  I will wipe them all out completely!" (v. 20, 23)

He doesn't wipe our "land" clean all at once... because, well--- maybe... just maybe we can't handle it. We simply aren't ready to be that free!  I don't know.  "The wild animals are too numerous for you." He knows.  He promises to keep working.  He keeps watching and helping.

Until you have increased enough to take possession of the land...  He whispers.

He IS increasing us.

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Augustine of Hippo once said, "Narrow is the mansion of my soul, enlarge it, Lord..."

He knows what I can handle.  He knows that the world and the devil prowl around like a lion looking to devour and steal; wild animals looking to pounce on my soul.

Don't be dismayed or discouraged.  God will take the land!  He is completing His work in me.  He does win in the end... and always, always, always I walk through it all with Him.  Led by Him.

Narrow is my heart, please enlarge it, Lord!  Increase my soul...  increase me and take full possession, Holy Spirit.  Have Your way, little by little, in my mind and heart and soul!  

Not perfect yesterday.  Not tomorrow, either.  But, by His grace, I am getting larger every day!

How Did I Get Here?

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Off kilter and out of sorts.  I didn't wake up feeling this way.  A few hours into the day... that is where I was.  Out-of-wack.  Not at peace.  How did I get here?

Curiosity, is what Brene Brown suggests:  just remain curious about what you are feeling and experiencing.  Look at it and ask "why"?  

Awareness and awakeness are the words I have been using for the last few years.  Lord, make me more awake and aware.   Larry Crabb calls it the "red-dot-moment".  (That shopping mall map that tells you with a red-dot:  "You are here")

Where am I, Lord?  

I know that Scripture assures us of our inheritance in Christ.  We have been given a great gift because of His sacrifice.  A gift of the now and the "not-yet", to be sure: but, a gift to open today and enjoy.  He has given me a living inheritance:  He has given me His peace and His love to remain in and within which we can abide.   I have a home, a place to sit and I can rest.  A pathway to walk that is peace, joy, hope and security.  This is the inheritance that is mine.  And, yours.  Ours in Jesus:  our true home.  I can always live there.  It is 'on offer' to me always.  

I am struck by the deliverance of Israel in Exodus 14 and then the song sung to God in Exodus 15--- God's heart for His people:  His good plan---  unfailing love and strength can be our dwelling, His holiness. (Exodus 15:13)

"You will bring them in and plant them on the mountain of your inheritance—
the place, Lord, you made for your dwelling, the sanctuary, Lord, your hands established." Exodus 15:17

This plan was fulfilled in Christ Jesus.  Because of Him, we have a place to live.   You and I are planted; rooted and established in love.  I have a secure, paid-for-place to live every moment of every day--- an inheritance of peace and love.

But, I forget... I wander.  I stray away from my home.  I get up from this restful place and I step off the path of His love.  I get off kilter in the brush and bramble beside the road.   Like my brothers and sisters the Israelites of old, dark "pursuers" ride toward me; from within and without.   Horse and rider yell out at me or whisper from within "be afraid... be very afraid".  Lies.  All lies.  This also can happen any day.  Moment by moment.

When I remain curious, by His help, I am becoming more keenly aware of when I am off the path and out-of-step with His Spirit.  This morning was one of those moments.  Becoming aware is such a huge, beautiful key!

I became aware... hours after wandering... and simply stopped and asked the Lord for help.  Holy Spirit, help me.  I know where I am.  Now, how did I get here?  

I sat, prayed, quieted my heart and listened.  He brought to mind one small thing---then another--- It was one small flash-point in my morning.  A simple, quiet, niggling--certainly not earth shattering---reality in my body (my health) that triggered worry.  Ah!  more awakeness...  more awareness.   Thank you, Lord. This small moment had clearly brought up bigger, older fears.  Old patterns of coping--- worry, wondering what-might-happen-if, calculating.   It had started with the one instance... then next a piece of news in email (now further off the path!) and then the memory.  Ah!  Like a quiet cascade... the journey to wander at that point was in full swing.

Okay, I had wandered off the path.  Now, I knew when I left my home of peace.

Thank you, Lord.  Now, would You bring me back.  Bring me back inside, Lord.

He says... Open Your hands and surrender to My love and speak Truth to Your soul!

I choose to surrender to Your unfailing love.  I accept "what is" and choose to stop thinking about "what might be".  I offer my body to You--- You are my good Shepherd, my kind Father...  my Creator.  You made my body---so I give it to You to care for!  I am yours.  I don't have to worry.  I don't ever have to fear. You have a place of love for me to rest in---to live in.  I resist the lies in the name of Jesus.  I stand firm, by Your blood, against the worry and fear.  Even when I am in pain... even when my body is wacky... Your Love, Truth and Light are secure.  I receive it!  I let go of fixing this, figuring it out, or worrying about it.  I open my hands and receive Your love and this place of peace.  I choose to sit down in it and rest.  

I sat down in peace and walked on.  My body's reality hasn't changed, the news on email was still hard--- but where I am walking is different.  Stand firm, be still, AND move on (walk forward)--- this is what God tells His people in Exodus (Ex 14:13-18).  What a paradox!  Stand firm.  Walk onward. Trust and obey.

Out of the brambles.... back on the road.  A few hours away---  I now welcome and delight in the gift of peace.  For now, by His grace, I abide in His love.  Lord, make me more awake and aware!  More of You Jesus in me.  

"I will sing to the Lord, for He has triumphed gloriously.  The horse and his rider have been hurled into the sea.  The Lord is my strength and my deliverer.  He is my salvation.  ...The Lord is a warrior"  (Exodus 15)

A New Place to Live

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Egypt.  A place where God's people were enslaved.  It was also a place they lived and worked.  They had families, settled in homes, cooked, ate, drank and married... 400 years of "normal".  This was their home; but, they were not free.  God hears the pain of this reality---their slavery--- and He makes a way for them to leave.  He gives them their freedom.

For a few days, I have been feeling out of sorts.  ...not free.  ...not at peace.  In reading Exodus 13 this morning, I had the thought---and a prayer rise up: what is the Egypt you delivered me from?  

I, too, lived in Egypt long ago...  working, living, settled down... but not free.  And, through Jesus, God has delivered me out. What did my "Egypt" look like?  What is the Egypt You delivered me from, Lord?

my egypt was ...love starved.  ...a dry and desert place.  ...lacking  ...a place where I lacked the deep knowledge of His unconditional love, so I ran about looking and longing for it.
my egypt was ...lonely  ...sad  ...driven and productive  ...a place where I was "hustling for my worthiness" (as Brene' Brown talks about in Daring Greatly.)  ...hustling for love, for okay-ness,  ...hustling for peace.
my egypt was a place where I had to earn my okay-ness and it was dependent on what others thought of me  ...it was a place where I felt I must be perfect to be loved.   ..it was a confused place  ...a nervous place.  ...a place I had to be ever calculating and fixing.

As I processed and prayed through this passage, I was struck by God's heart for His people.  He has such great compassion, understanding and wisdom.  He makes a way for the Israelite people to leave Egypt---yes; and, yet, because He also knows them so well, He makes the way longer and more arduous. He knows if the way is shortened, they would be tempted to go back.   With a wise and loving heart, God 'burns the bridges' that lead back to lead them back to Egypt.  He takes away their options.  He makes retreat impossible.

"When Pharaoh let the people go, God did not lead them on the road through the Philistine country, though that was shorter. For God said, “If they face war, they might change their minds and return to Egypt.” So God led the people around by the desert road toward the Red Sea." (Exodus 13:17-18)

He delivered me, too, from "my egypt".   And...He also knows my heart so well!  He knows that I might change my mind and run back...  just like my brothers and sisters, the Israelites.   Indeed, I do feel the temptation to live in that egypt from time-to-time, to be sure!  We are so prone to run back to what feels normal or comfortable---even if it is slavery.

These last few days, I think maybe I have been living in the memory--- or in the shadow of my egypt, Lord.  

God reminds me that He burned that bridge for me with Christ's "it is finished" sacrifice.  He says "the old is gone and the new has come!"  (2 Corinthians 2:15)

As they are leaving Egypt, God reminds them... yet again... to take no yeast from Egypt.   He reminds me, again, this morning that I need to be aware of the "yeast" I used and lived with, in my old"egypt" land.  These are old things... things to be seen, noted, and discarded.  It is where I once lived.  But, not where I live today.  Or, at least, not where I must live today.  Instead He has delivered me into a new place...   a place of freedom.

So, I ask Him now.  What is the promised-land to which I have been delivered, Lord?  

My promised land is ...rich in love. ...a place where I can know and walk in the deep knowledge of His unconditional love.  I don't have to run anywhere or do anything to find it.
My promised land is  ...full  ...connected ....relational ...a place where I don't have to earn my worth---it has been earned for me!  ...a place where I have been given, as a gift, peace and joy and fullness.  I have enough.  I am enough in Him.
My promised land is a place where His Presence is always with me.  ...grace and mercy are in abundance  ...I am strong and okay and firmly planted on Him.

I want to live in this reality today, Lord.  I want to live with You in this land... my promised land: Your love.  

"As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you.  Now, remain in my love." (John 15:9)    Live in my love

Because He lives...

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In church this morning we were asked to fill-in this statement: Because He lives, I can...  

I have been thinking a lot about the word freedom lately.  Generally speaking, I am, by nature a bound person.  I can be bound-up in "shoulds" or in what other's think.  I can be bound-up by the judging voice in my own head, criticizing and reprimanding me.  I can be bound up in the dual shameful feelings of being "too much" or "not enough".

Bound and not free.  Bound by worry about the future.  What if it gets worse..  Will I be able to handle it?  ...what will I say?  Bound by regret from the past--- what I did, what I should have said, or didn't say.  What I could have done or shouldn't have attempted.  We are bound in compulsions, comparison, anger or unforgiveness.  Bound-up in insecurity, in judgment, and in discord.  We are, by nature, a bound people. We bind each other and, most poignantly, we bind ourselves.   I bind myself.

I found myself bound in frustration this morning at church.  Annoyance and frustration: the small, niggling kind--- not the full-blown-loose-temper kind.  I was frustrated with someone and it was distracting me.

Stephanie, there is another way...  As I sat in worship and asked the Holy Spirit to fill me with His way,  I thought again about freedom.   It is for freedom that Christ has set you free.  I am free.  Because He lives I am free...  today.  Every single minute of every day.

What is binding me right now, Lord?  

Judgement.

But, Lord, what they are doing is wrong...  

Mercy triumphs over judgement.  (James 2:13)

These are the words that rang in my head and brought clarity to my clouded thinking.  Mercy. The antidote.  I don't have to judge.  I feel the need, yes.   The urge and the natural tendency, yep.   But, there is another way.  Judgement isn't my job.  ...So NOT my job!  Mercy is the cure for the disease of judgement.

Brene Brown, in her beautiful book Rising Strong, says that "love is the last thing we need to ration in this world".   I don't have to ration or limit how much love I show another person.  I simply can't love too much.  You have been forgiven much, can you love much here?

Can you give too much mercy today, Stephanie?

In the quietness of my heart, mercy was given.  Love offered.  Blessings genuinely prayed for the person I was frustrated with...  Rest was restored in my soul.  Mercy did triumph this morning! Because He lives.

Because He lives... I can be free to love and offer mercy.  Always.



--------this was my answer to the statement.  Here are a few other people's "fill-in" that made my heart smile:

Because He lives, I can....   Be happy.  Be myself.  I can forgive.  I can be forgiven.  I can make mistakes.  I can face tomorrow.  I can be the person He made me to be.  I can love.  I don't have to worry.  I never have to be afraid.  Forgive.  Worship.

Shut Up!

 "Eve, don't listen to the liar!" by Paul Gauguin (Photo Source)

Sometimes I have to just tell her to "shut up".

Sometimes I need to say "Step back! Step-off! and Shut up!

Do you ever hear her or him... that inner critic, that judge and shame-dealer?

She pokes and prods and tells me how lame I am or what a failure I am.  She tells me to give-up and that it isn't worth it.  And, sometimes she tells me that I am unloved or unlovable.

When she "speaks", she is tenacious.   Always, she is a liar.  She is mean, unforgiving and ungraceful.

Today, she is plaguing me.  Like fingernails on a black chalk board, her "voice" is grating and shrill. It is time to tell her to "shut up".  Enough already.  Be quiet, in Jesus Name!

The Voice of Truth tells me a different story.  His Words are true and kind.  They are gentle, humble and dripping with grace.  And, with His voice,  all things can be calmed.

...even her ugly critiques.

So, this morning I say, "Enough is enough!"  In the name and power of Jesus, be still.  And, shut up!

All the Beauty by JJ Heller 

I know that she's a liar when I look into her eyes

But I believe in every word she says

She's out to start a fire burning everything I have

I can't put it out 'cause it's all inside my head 

And then You sing

I hear You sing

You call me lovely

You call me friend

You call me out of death and let me try again

You call me beloved

You call me clean

Then you show me all the beauty that you see in me

I still hear her whisper and sometimes I hear her shout 

You're not good enough and you will never be 

But if I focus on Your singing I can start to tune her out

'Cause You came with a love to set me free

I know that You love me enough to die

And I will try to see the value that you place on me

And You say I'm worthy

Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns

One Word

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I can't remember when I started the tradition... was it in college?  I don't know.  But, for years now, I have always picked one word to focus on... or to pray, really... and ask the Lord to grow me in the coming year.  There have been years where it took a while to listen, to pray, and to seek this "one word".   This year my word was as clear as day.  I knew it the moment I thought to ask God...

Freedom.

When I sat for even a few minutes asking, Father what would You have me ask from You this year?  

I knew.  Freedom, Stephanie.  More freedom...  

I believe that God is inviting me to be more freely me:  that "me" He intends, He purposed and He created.  I believe He is inviting me to live more freely in who I am, what I think and what I feel.  ...to say what I think.  To feel what I feel.  And, to be who I am.

For so long the opinions of others, the fear of man and the many "voices" and expectations have informed the "me" and shaped who I am.  I want more freedom from these things... these other voices.  I am asking God that I might know more of who He says I am, who He created me to be!  

Freedom to be me.

And, freedom from... 

Freedom from worry and fear and control and perfection and angst.   I believe that God is inviting me to walk fully free from these things... as I grow in trust and peace and rest in Him alone.  I actually never again have to be worried.  What a thought!  I am free from this.  I can walk in full freedom from fear and worry.

Freedom to...

and freedom from...

This is my prayer for 2013.    Teach me Father, I ask!  

What would you ask God for this year?

Healthy Tears

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She really does cry a lot.   My sweet girl.

She can cry easily when angry or sad.  She can cry when she is happy or surprised.

In fact, she cried again on Sunday.  She was sharing about a loved one that is in pain and hurting.  She wanted prayer.  She cried her way through the request and the prayer.  It worried the youth leader a bit, I think.  It doesn't worry me.

She cries while she worships and she cries while talking about friends she loves.  She cries while others gather around and pray.  Compassion, justice and mercy issues being one of the top "sure" things that will make this sweet girl cry.  Tears come very freely to her and I truly, genuinely love this about her.

I love that she cries.

You see, I can't.  I have trouble crying.  I always have.  Well, I should say, I always have---as far as I can remember.  Did I cry more at one time in my life, I don't know.   But, in these adult years... these past 20 years, to be sure... tears are hard to come by for me.  It isn't that I am not sad.  It isn't that I don't have sadness and pain that could fill a bucket of tears.  I do.  I just can't seem to cry them out.   I am learning.  And, I am crying a bit more these days.  I have indeed asked God for this gift of tears.  And, He has answered slowly.    But tears don't flow freely for me like they do for my girl.

Free flowing.  Freedom.

Last night before bed she asked her daddy how it is that I contain my emotions so easily.  She was asking, so it seemed, in manner of admiration.  How does Mom do it?! she wanted to know.  She wanted to learn the trick.


Oh!  Baby-girl, you don't need to learn how to suppress tears!  Yes, there are appropriate times and places.  And, you will learn that.  You are learning that, already.  But, please don't learn from me how to not cry!  Your tears are beautiful.  Just beautiful.  Please keep crying.  

Today in science, we read the most fascinating thing about tears.  Did you know that the tears you shed while cutting an onion, or getting sand in your face, are different than the tears you shed when you feel a strong emotion?  These two type of tears are unique from each other and have different chemicals.  One has the chemicals needed to protect the eye and fight off disease.  The other, the emotional tears, have three remarkable, medicating chemicals to help you handle the strong emotions.

"These chemicals include manganse [to calm you], luicine-enkephalin [a chemical to control pain], and the adrenocorticotrophic hormone [to help cope with stress].  When you get rid of these chemicals by crying, the net effect is to make you feel better.  By releasing these toxins, then, the tears serve to chemically and physically make you feel less depressed!  Thus, it really is true that you tend to feel better after a good, long cry.  ...the emotional tears we shed are a gift from a Designer.  Since He built in us the capacity for emotions, He also built in us the ability to deal with those emotions.  One of those is the ability to sit down and have a good, long cry." ~  Dr. Jay L Wile, Exploring Creation with General Science.  

My girl smiled big when we read this section today.  She laughed and said, "I must be very healthy-- Releasing all those toxins!"  She isn't wrong.

She is healthy!  It must be because she cries alot.

Barabbas and Me

Give us Barabbas!

Why in the world would they choose to release Barabbas instead of you, Lord?  

These were the thoughts that came tumbling out of my heart when reading the account of Pilate's offer to release a prisoner for the Passover feast*.  (John 18:39-40)  "Give us Barabbas!" they cried.  

After all they had seen of Jesus.  After seeing His healing, His kindness, and hearing His teaching...  They chose Barabbas, Lord??!!  

No, Stephanie. I chose Barabbas.  The words flooded my mind.  I chose Barabbas.  "No one can take my life from me.  I lay it down voluntarily.  For I have the right to lay it down and the power to take it up again.  My Father has given me this right."  (John 10:18)

And, I chose you, too.  

Me and Barabbas.  Both rebellious sinners...both guilty.  Both released and offered freedom on the same day.  That day Jesus took our punishment, walked our road, and carried our sins.   Barabbas' crime and sentence---my punishment and my sin.  

I am chosen.  I am released.  He walked in my place.
  

Chosen to be freed and offered a new life.  I wonder how Barabbas spent his remaining free days on earth?  I want to remember and walk as one loved, chosen and set free each day of my life.  You?  How will you spend your days of freedom?  

"Where have your love, your mercy, your compassion shone out more luminously than in your own wounds, sweet gentle Lord of mercy?  More mercy than this no one has than that he lay down his life for those who are doomed to death."  ~Bernard of Clairvaus

*I am reading a wonderful daily Lent devotion that is free for download here.  

"See yourself as Barabbas, [condemned] awaiting your sentence of death.  Then consider how it would be to have someone loosen your chains, and release you, no questions asked." ~Tricia Rhodes

An Ugly Game

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We play the comparison game way too much.  Is it just ladies who do this?  I don't know.  But, it can be so harmful.  And, it is so random...like rolling dice.  Who can predict the winner?  

The ability to judge and compare is a significant gift from God.

God compares.  Scripture's stories and Truth are full of His judging, His statements of comparison.  He judges.  I believe this ability to see and compare is a beautiful piece of His image in us.

We use this God-like ability in our every day lives.  From when we are young, we learn to compare and judge the safety of one situation to another.  We make early judgments and decide from very early who we will "go-to", reaching out our hands...  "this one I know."  "This one I trust", a small toddler will make these judgments, won't he?  

The difference, of course, is that God Almighty always judges rightly.  His judgments are always couched in His love, His grace and His mercy.  He is holy, perfect and without sin. He sees clearly, righteously and He is always good.  I am not.

Isn't that crying baby, who won't come to me, making a wrong judgement about my being unsafe?

Now, I do believe that using God's Word allows us to make some pretty sure judgments.  Scripture does certainly name some things as clearly right and wrong, beautiful and ugly, godly and ungodly.    

But, that said, when I use this comparison with my sinful, inperfect, or twisted "lens" on---not the clear lens of Scripture--- well, then I have a problem, don't I ?!  

And, I do it all the time.  I don't think I am alone here.  I think we do it all the time.  

We make judgements.  We make comparisons.

And, then we play a game---the comparison game.  This is when we get into trouble.   Not only do we make a comparison--- but we then place a value on our comparison.  We call one thing right and one thing wrong.  One thing is better and one thing is worse.  There is a winner and a loser in our comparison game!

Sometimes I win.  And sometimes I lose.

He is smarter, I am not as smart.  He wins.  I lose.  She is prettier.  I am not as pretty.  She wins.  I lose.  She is fat.  I am not.  She loses. I win.  She is creative.  I am not as creative.  She wins.  I lose.  ...stupid, silly comparisons begin to plague our thinking about ourselves and our thinking about others.

He is better at this ...she is better at that...

Then we get into bigger, not so small--- deeply harmful, comparisons.  Relational comparisons--- seriously dangerous ground!  She has her quiet time at this time.  I don't.  She does this for God.  But, I do that.  He hears God in this way.  I don't.  She does.  I can do this.  She can't.  She can do this.  I can't.   I struggle with this.  She doesn't.  She struggles with this... I don't!  On and on it goes.  All the while we are making comparisons and judging our "place".  Winners and losers.   Do you ever play this game?  When does it ever stop?!

What a mess we have made of a sweet gift!

Instead of our God-created differences being something that we can see, judge rightly, and deeply value; it brings animosity, or insecurity.  Instead of unity, our comparisons bring disunity.   Instead of your strengths bringing hope and a compliment to my weakness... I feel badly or wrong.  Or, I feel better or self-righteous.

We just win or lose.  This game playing brings distance, a massive chasm, between you and me.

These judgments bring a block to trust, intimacy and vulnerability between him and her.   We see it in marriages.  We see it in sisters.  Brothers.  We see it in friendships and neighbors.

I have put you over there "in that category" and me over here "in this category".  You are better than me, so therefore you are not like me.  And, hence, I can not trust you or open up to you.  And, I certainly can't show you my weakness.   I feel far from you.  Judged by you.

It doesn't matter if I am winning or losing the game--- either way, pride or self-hatred, we are disconnected from each other.  With our pride or self-hatred we are not seeing ourselves as God sees us.

What freedom would come if we saw ourselves and others rightly--with our strengths and weakness in full view--- and valued God's creativity and His work in each of our lives.  He views us with grace.  Can I trust that He will, in me... and you...  ...make all things beautiful in His time.

Instead sometimes we are walking around like a nose detached from the face, bemoaning the fact that we are not an ear... or proud of the fact that we can smell better than him...  What a mess--- what an ugly game we play!

Wash us in Your Love Father!  Cover us with Your Grace and Mercy, Jesus.  Holy Spirit, bring wisdom and understanding.  Lead me into all Truth.   

Silence and Noise

"We need to find God, and he cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature--trees, flowers, grass--- grow in silence; see the stars, the moon, and the sun, how they move in silence. We need to be silent to be able to touch souls. ~Mother Teresa

Life includes a lot of noise, doesn't it?

Not all the noise is a bad thing, for sure! Some of the noise---maybe even most of the noise---is beautiful and a deep joy!

...My kids play, songs and laughter ...The noise of the piano practice ...phone calls and friendly visits ...rain on the windows ... and the noise of the washing machine. All these are blessings. All gift-noise in my life.

Last night the wind whipped loudly through the street outside my window. It was strong and loud. The wind's activity was loud enough to wake me. It's noise powerful enough to break through the double glazed window in my room. And, it wasn't an unwelcome noise, or a "bad" noise. Not really. When I hear or see the wind here, I am often moved to worship and in awe at our wind-Creating, wind-Controlling Father in Heaven!

But, it did disturb my sleep. Even the wind, not a 'bad' noise, was a disturbance none-the-less.

Silence in my life is necessary. I must sit and be still. If I am to hear the thoughts in my mind, the movements of my spirit or the motives of my heart... I have to listen. We must take time to listen. And, silence takes time... it is more than just one moment.

I must choose it. As much as possible, at times, I must walk away from and put a stop to the noises of life.

But, silence is far beyond simply ridding myself and my surroundings of external noise. I believe it is much more than that. I believe God invites us to something much deeper within. I think He invites His children to a different silence, a Spiritual-soul silence.

As I have shared I suffer with tinnitus... a constant, multi-toned, constant, high-pitched, (did I mention constant) ringing in my ear... So, for all intensive purposes, I can never really rid myself of noise.

Oh! but, I can!? And, that is what He is showing me. Silence is deeper. Deeper within...

Yes, it means I must still choose an actual quiet moment (or moments) in my day. It means taking time to sit, to be still, to think and to ask Father to search... but, it is more than that... it is a soul silence I need to seek, to develop, to ask for within. Within and throughout. A silence that I can walk in all day long.

This is what I am asking for today. I am asking for this life of the Spirit, deep within, that allows for deep, abiding silence while the washing machine is going, the piano practice is in full swing, and while the wind howls outside. This silence is what I need and long for.

For, "where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom" (2 Corinthians 3:17)

And, "the mind controlled by the Spirit is life and peace." (Romans 8:6)

Freedom. Life. Peace.

What an invitation we have from God, who is Spirit! What a glorious, beautiful invitation!

I will look for You, today, Father... You, God Almighty, friend of silence. You, giver of freedom, life and peace. Today, I will look within for where You dwell in me, for I am Your temple. And, by Your grace, I choose to walk by Your Spirit... to seek You beyond the noises of life and mind. Thank you, Jesus, for opening the way. Thank you, Jesus!

No man can hinder our private addresses to God; every man can build a chapel in his breast, himself the priest, his heart the sacrifice, and the earth he treads on, the altar.  ~Jeremy Taylor (1613)

Why I blog: Hungry to Connect

I blog because I am hungry. 


God has given me signs of hunger and thirst.  My stomach growls or my mouth just feels parched.  ...my head might ache a bit or my energy level drops.  These are tell-tale signs that it is time to eat or take a long, deep drink.  

I am still learning so is it true of the sign and signals my soul gives off.  When I am fatigued or anxious... when I feel "needy", irritable, or oversensitive.  When I want to manipulate or use my words, or actions, for attention.  All these are tell-tale signs that my soul is hungry.  ...maybe past hungry--- maybe a bit starved, in fact, by that point.   

I believe we all get hungry.  ...we all get soul-hungry, as well.  And, I also know that where one person would eat in small snatches 5 times a day; another might eat one large mid-day meal.  My husband is this kind of "camel" eater.  He just simply doesn't need three meals a day.  I need 4 or 5.  Our hungers are universal and yet, unique.  

Isn't this true about our spiritual hunger and how we feed it?  What it looks like for me to be soul-filled and satiated will undoubtedly look different than it might look like for you.  Oh!, the beauty of the variety in the Body of Christ!  

But, we all have hunger and I think just as we all need basic vitamins and minerals, water and proteins to survive physically; So, we all need some spiritual basics that are universal.  I am seeing my basic need... my "vitamin C" need for relational connectedness.  And, I will venture to say we all need this essential in our soul's health.  We have a basic need to be known and to know.  We have a deep, God-given, need for relationship.  

This is the Trinity and our "made in the Image" of the Almighty, isn't it?     The Trinity fellowship that is Our Father, Son and Spirit is a beautiful Truth and basic tenant of Our faith.  And, it was in His image that I was created!  Just as He is connected and known in three-persons, I long for fellowship, connectedness and known-ness. 

I am realizing that I hunger and thirst to be known.  I long to be known and to know God and His people.  

And, so I blog.  

Sounds a bit odd, I am sure.  But, truly, that is one reason I sit here and pour out my thoughts. I know that my husband, my best friends, my new friends, and my sisters are reading.  And, I desperately want them to know this 25 minutes of my life.  I want them to know me.  And, I want to know them.  If only they would all blog!!  

I realized this when I contemplated writing just into a Word Document on my computer.  Afraid of my pride, my people-pleasing tendency and my perfectionism creeping into this blog; I stopped blogging for a while and talked to Father about this issue.  I know myself well enough to know that I can be ridiculously prideful; and my fail safe way of skirting that issue (and any sin issue) is to avoid or to remain clear of anything that might stroke my pride.  

And, yet, what I found as I prayed is that Father God was inviting me to enter into this arena, fully aware of my sinfulness, and find freedom in writing here.   I believe He is inviting me to dive in and blog; while consciously fighting off the enemy of pride.  

Because a Word Doc wouldn't "do it".  In fact, I have noticed I don't feel finished with any given blog post until my husband reads it.   It isn't his praise that makes me feel "done" ---it is the connectedness and the "have been known a bit more".  He read my thoughts.  He now knows these thoughts, too.  

So, in the same way that the fear of false hungers--- boredom, anxiety, sadness, or exhaustion--- might keep me from eating properly or eating enough; so the fear of false hungers of my soul--- pride, self-righteousness, and people-pleasing, don't need to keep me from doing the things that feed my soul.  And, writing, feeds my soul.  

And, so, I write.  I write to be known.  

Does this blog represent all of me.  No, not at all, of course!!  This is one small window into a 30 minute thought-dump.  But, it IS real and it is a part of me.  ...and a part of me that I might have trouble saying to you in the 10 minutes we stand with coffee in hand in the church aisle.


Now, if we had the privilege to sit for a few hours together... (face-to-face communication clearly surpasses the computer screen, in my opinion)... then I could know more of you and you could know me more.  But, alas, one avenue I do have is to write.  And, so I blog.   

So, thank you for reading... thank you for taking a minute to know me (or a part of me).  Thank you for being a part of my soul-feeding. 


"I count myself as one of the number who writes as they learn and learn as they write" ~Augustine