Overcoming Hurt

I got a text from a good friend the other day. 

How do I let go when it's so hard?  When it hurts so much?  When all I want to do is sweep in and take control? 

She's not alone in her struggle.  

Life wasn't supposed to turn out this way, we say. 

I had it all planned out, we say.  

What happened?  

The easy answer would have been for me to tell her that Jesus sees, and Jesus knows. To sit in the peace that God has her circumstances under control, even if she couldn't see it.  

I couldn't do that to her.  

Hard and messy isn't satisfied by easy answers and sweet thoughts.  When we have wounds gaping open that won't heal, an easy answer doesn't begin to bind up the pain, or help us work through the hurt. 

I dug in and laid a few things out for her.  Nuggets of truth I've learned along the way.  Lessons I'm still learning (emphasis on still).  

Tender to her pain, I started to type.

I know you're struggling and I'm sorry that you are.  A couple things I'm thinking of:

ONE: LETTING GO SUCKS, BUT IT'S A NECESSARY STEP

I think you are on the right track. Letting go is sooo hard.  But yes, letting go of the control and leaving it in Gods hands is the best place you can be.

TWO: START WITH YOUR OWN HEART

When I feel like I am not hearing from God or like God isn't answering my prayer, I have learned to start with myself. 

I ask God to show me any sin in my own heart, and anything I need to repent of. 

God will ask you to get your heart right with him before he will answer your prayer to work on someone else's heart. 

I learned that when I used to ask him to change Jon (HA!).  

So often I find myself unaware of sin that has rooted in my heart. Ask him to show you.

THREE: RECOGNIZE WHAT IS OUT OF YOUR CONTROL

Part of the problem in your situation is that other people are causing your pain- people who are still working toward a right heart with God. This is out of your control. God is calling them, and wants to work in their hearts, but they have to say yes to his call.

FOUR: PRAY FOR THEM WHEN THEY HURT YOU

Pray for the truth. 

Pray for (those causing you pain) to see and respond to the love of Christ. Pray that they have soft hearts- hearts that God can mold and shape. Pray that they have a desire to be changed.



If you're reading this, I don't know your struggle, or what has hurt you - whether it is a snag that has laid dormant, quietly infecting your heart, or whether your heart has endured blow after blow, leaving you bruised and bloodied, reeling, struggling to breath, to get up, to stand up and walk. 

I don't know your struggle, but I've shared a little in your pain.  It is part of our human condition.  We hurt each other.  We get hurt. 

Today, whatever your struggle, Jesus wants to walk you through it.  He doesn't want you to sit alone in your suffering, dwelling on a happy verse, like an Advil for an amputated limb.  He wants to walk you through your pain.  With you.  Guiding you.  

Will you let him? 

In the life-giving words of Isaiah in chapter 61, foretelling the mission of Jesus who was yet to come, 

“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon Me,

Because the Lord has anointed Me

To preach good tidings to the poor;

He has sent Me to heal the brokenhearted,

To proclaim liberty to the captives,

And the opening of the prison to those who are bound;

To proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord,

And the day of vengeance of our God;

To comfort all who mourn,

To console those who mourn in Zion,

To give them beauty for ashes,

The oil of joy for mourning,

The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;

That they may be called trees of righteousness,

The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.”

Cling to him like he's your last chance and your best yes.  Take your eyes off your wounds, and place them squarely on his face.  Let go.  Start with your heart.  Know what you can and can't control.  Pray.

You are so loved.

Secret-Guarders and Iron Sharpeners and Dinner

As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another. Proverbs 27:17  

We don't do it enough, but we've gotten in the habit of scheduling time.  It started out as a lunch, and lunch was so good we said, We've got to do this again.  Soon. 

We joke about how, pre-kids, we saw each other all the time. We'd hop in the car and land on each others couches.  The presence of each others company would feed our souls, and we were full up on friendship.  

And then came the babies. 

The couches became empty reminders of friendship that looks way different now.  

Empty seat cushions that used to have a regular patron.  

Empty hearts, starving for friendship, for someone to talk to, for someone to hear our hearts and all the things clanging around in our heads.

After the longest, loneliest stretch of time, we started scheduling lunches. Once every few months or so. We'd catch up across the table.  

We'd share the good and the bad- our frustrations, our secret fears, our joys, our stumbling blocks, and our questions about what God was teaching us through our less than perfect circumstances. We were vulnerable, and honest with each other, and we found in each other honest love and great understanding.

Two of us became three of us, and we've found our rhythm.  Every few months, we come back together. And it's the BEST.

Sometimes we meet for lunch, and sometimes we get the kids in bed and go out for a late night dinner.  

Dinners are my favorite.  Dinners aren't rushed.  Dinners involve a fresh squirt of perfume, and lipstick, or new earrings- something that reminds me that I was once, before motherhood, a lady.  

But it's not the food, or the pretty people that make this time special.

We usually start with catching up on life, but doesn't take long for us to dive deeper.  

It honestly started almost by accident.  We'd power through our time together, trying to catch up on everything we'd missed since our last visit, and wanting to make the most of the time we had together.  There was not much room for small chat!

How are you is never an icebreaker for us, but it is a genuine, loving question - one we ask and answer with the deepest sincerity.  

What makes our time so precious isn't the stories that we have to tell, and it isn't that we have a sounding board, but that we trust each other.  

Friendship can be tricky, and sometimes a little scary.  Do I share what is really going on in my heart?  Will I be understood?  Misunderstood?  Or worse- judged?  What if by opening my mouth I push people away?  What if no one cares about what I'm saying?  

I think something happened, somewhere along the line, in our formative years, and somehow as women we got really good at concealing our hearts.

We are really good at talking, but we're not so good about baring our souls to each other.

We've all been burned before.  We've been judged, rejected and misunderstood.  We've been the odd one out.  The misfit.  The unwanted one.  We've been the one that talks too much, or the one who talks to little, or the one who just doesn't say the right things. 

We hide our hearts to keep them safe, from the judgers and the rejectors, and from the people who just might not understand us.  

It's really easy to sit in our safe space and only share the appealing parts of our hearts.  It's harder to share the rest.  

There's something really life-giving about knowing someone deeply.  We're not afraid to ask the tough questions to each other, but we're also not afraid to answer them. So sitting around tables, huddled over plates of pasta or sandwiches, drinking coffee or sipping wine, and even in a little pool as our babies swam around us once, we ask the tough questions.  

How are you, really?  

What's the best thing going on right now?  

What is the hardest thing you're going through?  

What is God teaching you?  

We talk about what we're reading, and learning.  We laugh over stories of our husbands and our children, and cry with each other over hurts and frustrations.  

Sometimes life just doesn't turn out the way we would have wanted.  Sometimes, we just want things to be different, and the weight of our out-of-control-ness can be stifling.  

The tender moments between us happen because we have handed each other grace.  

Grace to speak our minds, and explore our questions.  

Grace to mess up, coming along arm in arm when one of us realizes the other has gone down the lonely road of bitterness, offering hope and truth in the most gentle ways.  

Grace to lift each other up, and share humble wisdom.  

Grace enough to point to Jesus.  

Proverbs 27:17 says "As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another."  These girls are my sharpeners.  

We are better because of each other.  Sometimes I'm on the right track, and sometimes I'm not.  These girls encourage, empathize and point me ever so lovingly in the right direction when I'm getting off course.

What is it about perspective that makes it so hard for me to "counsel" myself??  It is as if all my wisdom and understanding goes flying out the window when I'm in the thick of fighting off whatever is coming at me.  I can't see the big picture, I can't see the forest through the trees, and often my focus gets absorbed completely into my problem.  

In times when my way seems lost, or I fear I am stuck and will never get over the mountains in my way, I need people in my life who can show me new perspective, or help me look at things from a different or wider angle.  I need voices that encourage me to press on instead of wallowing in my self-pity.  

We were not created to do life alone.  We so often carry the burdens of our hearts, holding them in, believing that no one would understand, or want to carry our burdens with us.  

My encouragement to you today is to find your friend.  Find your people.  Find your tribe.  If you don't have one, seek one out.  Find someone trustworthy, someone you know your heart is safe with.  

If you have your people, be the best friend you can be.  I know, it's so cliche.  But do it anyway.  Be a secret-guarder and an encourager.  Be trusting and trustworthy.  Be observant and open-minded to the needs of your precious friend.  Be prayerful, and walk arm in arm with your besties, growing together in the grace of Jesus.  

Somehow we found each other, me and my people.  We could have easily chosen to be surface-level friends.  Little by little though, we took a leap of faith, and found the best of friendships waiting just beneath the surface of our tender, burned hearts.  

Praying for Rest

When I was twelve I was on a little parks and rec swim team in my little hometown, and that summer I lived in the water more than out.

My sister and I would get up early, as the summer sun was coming up and peaking into windows, while it was still early enough to be cold on a July morning, and we'd stumble out of the house and over to the pool.

We'd do morning practices and evening practices, and Saturday's we have meets.  It was glorious. Launch, splash, air, water, air, water, air, water.

I loved the rhythms of it, how each stroke made me feel like I was gliding, powerful and strong, a silent dance between me and the water.  It made me feel invincible, leaping out into the air, piercing through the water, and then with a flip of my feet back up and out again.  My favorite stroke was the freestyle.  It was like I could channel all my energy in one force, like a bullet shooting off the edge of the pool.  Mind you I was twelve, but even at twelve, I felt invincible.

It was one of the most refreshing, invigorating feelings, to pace and pace, water splashing around me. It made me happy.

I feel like I'm having this epiphany, where the racing against myself as a twelve year old was completely invigorating and fulfilling, but now, as a 34 year old, trying to 'adult,' it's not so invigorating, and I keep running out of steam.

Instead of flailing through the water at lightning speed, I'm barreling through laundry piles or grocery aisles, or the bedtime routine, holding my breath until I can just stop and sit down.

I'm barreling through work emails, or documents to edit, or problems to solve.  Just the other day I caught my sweet coworker trying to power through the pile on her desk so she wouldn't have it waiting for her on Monday.

We do this, this racing thing.

The season of life has created an especially intense "racing" in me.

It leaves me most days feeling like a rope unraveling, willing myself to hold it all together.  Breath held.  Still moving.

It's August- scratch that, it's October now, oi!- and I've been working this year on discipline and finding rest.  Two things that can often seem impossible for me.

I sat in the back of our little church ten months ago during our New Year's Eve service, as our pastor gently guided us to pray for our upcoming year, and I found myself silently asking for rest.

Asking is not the right word.  Begging.  I was begging.

It was a new prayer for me, and one I was not expecting.

I have prayed for wisdom, guidance, strength, and patience.  I've prayed that God would change my heart, and make it more like His.  I've prayed that God would help me to see things from His perspective rather than mine.  I've prayed all sorts of prayers for all sorts of things, but I've never asked for rest.

You know what?  He answered my prayer.

He did.  (((Like, whoaaaaaaa. Mind blown.))) (Ahem, I mean... not sure why I was surprised, but sheepishly I admit my surprise.)

Anyway, yes, I got to live out a year of answered prayer- in the coolest, and most unexpected ways.

In the beginning, I noticed a tangible refreshment of soul.

About four months in, I thanked God for the refreshment, but wondered aloud if He would provide any physical relief.

Low and behold, He did that too, orchestrating things I couldn't have imagined, with dear friends reaching out and offering to take my kids weekly so I could get to the grocery store, to new preschool schedules, and culminating with my parents moving across state lines and landing eight blocks away from my house.

*Holy hot tears of joy and relief.  He really does know what I need, and he really is making a way for all He has planned for me.*

But it started with listening.

I started with admitting my need for rest, and recognizing that He is the source of rest.

I started intentionally carving out time in the only space I had.  Predawn.

Predawn and I were not friends, but we're getting there.

In the discipline of getting up early - something as foreign and undesirable to me as meat is to a vegetarian, or glitter is to my husband - I am finding rest not in the snooze button but in the words on the pages of my Bible. 

There is something rest-giving about reading the Word.

There is something rest-giving about remembering who is King and who has saved my soul.

This same King led Moses into the wilderness, landed Esther in a palace, and sheltered David as he hid in caves running for his life.  This same King mapped out his plan of salvation from Adam through Isaiah and sent Jesus to save my soul some two thousand years later.

This same King spoke all creation into being, brings streams of water in the desert, and tells mountains to rise and fall.  This same savior said "Come, follow me, and I will forgive your sins and make you new," and I said YES!

I find rest in remembering these truths.  Rest from my anxious thoughts and rest from my mind that most of the time just won't stop.

I find rest in reprioritizing the list and remembering what is most important, and what is really just not.

Honestly though, even beyond all those good, positive thoughts, God is truly giving rest to me.

Like, in my bones, in my muscles, and capillaries, and neurons, physical, tangible renewed and rejuvinated rest.

This verse in Isaiah (40:31) has taken on a whole new meaning for me this year.

...but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.

It's a new meaning to me because I'm experiencing it instead of just reading about it.

I'm living it instead of just hoping for it.

The Amplified Bible (AMP) version puts it this way (I love it!):

But those who wait for the Lord [who expect, look for, and hope in Him] Will gain new strength and renew their power; They will lift up their wings [and rise up close to God] like eagles [rising toward the sun]; They will run and not become weary, They will walk and not grow tired.

Did you catch the part about expecting, looking for, and hoping in Him?  

Isn't it ridiculous that we try to find God and rest and sanity and wholeness in all the places except by looking up and getting close to him?  

The Message puts it this way- you have to read it, it's just the best: 

Why would you ever complain, O Jacob, or, whine, Israel, saying, “God has lost track of me. He doesn’t care what happens to me”? Don’t you know anything? Haven’t you been listening? God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s Creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And he knows everything, inside and out. He energizes those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. For even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, They run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.

Sweet friend.  Join me in the rest.  Join me in the mission that God has called us on.  Join me in finding sanctuary in the one who has already got it all figured out.

Your life matters and you were put on this earth for a reason.  And it wasn't to live life so on-the-go that exhaustion is your new normal.

I'm not saying I'm never ever tired.  I am.  You will be too.

But I'm resting.  Let's rest in Him. 

Things My Children Are Teaching Me: Crayon on the Wall, Part 3

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.  I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand.

I'm hopping into Part 3 of a small series I'm doing called Things My Children Are Teaching Me: Crayon on the Wall.  You can read Part 1 and Part 2 to find out what came ahead of the things I'm parsing out in this post.  

Also, I couldn't help but add this cute pic of E on her fourth birthday, so proud of herself, as we are now almost 2 years past a moment I had in my dining room when E came down one morning and drew all over my dining room wall.  

The lessons I'm learning from that morning are still coming at me in waves, crashing over and saturating my soul.

Thank you Jesus.  

We live in a finite world, limited by the boundaries of time, and space, by our five senses and our human emotions. We know what we know, but there is so much that we just don't know. God's thoughts are so far beyond our grasp, so unattainable to us.

Like my child, who didn't understand why walls are not for coloring, so often we find ourselves not understanding the laws and plans and desires of our God.

The longer I am a parent, the more often I seem myself in them.  

Every tantrum is a reflection of my own heart.  

Face to the ground, kicking and screaming because I took away a toy that one was beating the other over the head with.  Sobbing and shrieking because I won't let them get down from the table until they eat (half of) their dinner.  I know, I'm such a mean mom.

I have been screamed at, slapped, spit on, kicked, bitten, head-butted, ramrodded, and just the other day an angry Cali tried to run over me with her tricycle.  I can’t even remember why. Oh, child.  I have held my own in showdowns, nose to nose, when they have no intention of listening or obeying.

In every situation there is one common thread: they want what they want, and they don't understand why I am not on board with their plans.

Despite whatever picture we have in our head of who God is, and what He is like, really, truly, He is just like the parent in a parent-child relationship.

He knows, and sometimes we just don't.

He knows what needs to develop in us, and what needs to stop- becaaaaauuse yes, adults have heart tantrums too.  

He knows what's coming, and He knows what will hurt us.  He knows what is good, and what we need, and He knows what will turn into a hot mess and what will get us into trouble. 

And sometimes, he needs us in a spot where he can use us.  Sometimes he has plans that just don’t jive with our “I want what I want” mentality. 

Sometimes, some times, I read this little gem, and it rearranges my tantrum face.

Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to become angry. (James 1:19) 

Yes, Lord, I'm listening.

Elin may not understand it, but if I were to let her draw all over my walls whenever she wanted to my home would be a disaster. 

It is hard enough to get her, now four years old, to consistently be a good listener. I can only imagine what a nightmare it would be if I never gave her any direction or discipline, and instead let her follow her every whim or desire.

Yet. Yet we so want that from God.  To follow our every whim and desire.

Our spiritual lives are shaped in a way that mirrors the parent-child relationship, with the boundaries and guidance of the Lord, to keep us safe, to keep us from hurting each other and ourselves.  

But also - also, and most importantly - so that we become accustomed to listening, and obeying.  

If you quit listening, dear child, and strike off on your own, you’ll soon be out of your depth. Proverbs 19:27 (The Message)

I have great intentions to keep E alive and fed, and growing... all that good, normal parenting stuff. 

I want to equip her to make it in this big world one day. 

I know that if I can teach her to listen and obey as a young child, instead of doing whatever she wants, whenever she wants, that she will learn on her own one day to seek out advice, and to make good, healthy decisions.

The book of Romans talks about this a lot. It talks about "the law" that is placed on our hearts. Basically it’s an innate sense of right and wrong (Romans 2:15).

A tangible picture of this is a parent, teaching a child.  

From the very beginning, before she was even talking, I have guided Elin, and I will continue to do this every step of the way for her.

The Book of John in chapter 10 gives this picture of sheep who know what to do because they recognize the voice of the shepherd- it’s the same concept for us.  It says “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.  I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one will snatch them out of my hand." (verses 27-28).

Just like sheep hear the shepherds voice, and just like my children hear my voice, the “law”, or the promptings to follow righteousness and seek out our faith, is the voice of God on our hearts.  

We may not be able to hear it with our ears, but that doesn’t make it any less real or tangible.  

God has written his law, or his Word, on our hearts and all over creation, just like I incorporate my wisdom and guidance into every moment I have with Elin. 

It is our job to listen, and it is His job to guide.  

It’s the listening that we have the hardest time with.

We don't have time for much, always in a hurry, drowning in busyness. This has been my struggle for years, and Jesus is whispering in my ears, No, stop, sit.  There’s a better way.

Listening looks a lot like quiet.  

Like stopping and waiting and asking.  

Lord, what do you want? God of the heavens, creator of all things, designer of every day and architect of every night, what is your plan?

And we keep asking, and He keeps guiding, because we all know there is no magical formula to parenting, a one-and-done if you will.  

Neither is there with the spiritual life.

Let my cry come before you, O LORD; give me understanding according to your word! Psalm 119:169

Part 1  

Part 2

Things My Children Are Teaching Me: Crayon on the Wall, Part 2

So I'm chronicling a moment I had with my eldest a few years back, when she was about 2 and a half, and she got up one morning before me and grabbed a crayon and drew all over my dining room wall.  You can read Part 1 of that saga here.   

What I'm parcelling out are the parallels between her precious toddler heart and my heart as I proceed on this journey to know and understand God.  

This picture, of my small child jumping at the chance to follow her own free will, continues to press on me.

Had Elin asked me if it was ok to color on the walls, I would have said "No, but..."  

No, it is not ok to color on walls, but, it is ok to color on paper.

The problem wasn't that she was coloring, but that she was acting on her desire to color in a way that I was not ok with. 

The fact that she was coloring was great- I love that she wanted to color.  I want to encourage her to color as often as she wants to, and I hope that coloring will spur her on to other creative outlets. That being said, she still has to color within the boundaries I set for her.

Why?  Whyyyyyyyy, she might ask.  Why can't she be free to just express herself, and explore her heart, and her abilities, and her destiny?  What if my boundaries would stifle her, and keep her from reaching her potential, or worse, from figuring out who she really is?

Welp.

Because creating art on my dining room wall is just not ok.

This is simple stuff.  This is obvious.  But, is it?  It seems like such a no-brainer that crayon on the wall is not appropriate. But in this scenario, I can see the big picture, and E can't.  

It is so obvious to me that E should not color on my walls, but in that moment it was not obvious to E- and hear me on this: we do this with God so often.  

We can't see the big picture, we don't see the obvious, so we go about doing whatever we feel led or inspired to do.

And God says, no, or not right now, or not that way, and we get... frustrated. 

We get confused.  We get to feeling like God doesn't love us, or isn't taking care of us, or doesn't have our best interest at heart.  Honest to goodness, I can get to going on something, or I get to dreaming about something, and I fully expect God to support and praise my efforts. 

After all, it is He who inspired me in the first place, isn't it?  Is it? 

When He doesn't support my efforts and plans- because sometimes He doesn't- sometimes I get confused. Sometimes I get angry, frustrated, and impatient...  Sometimes, I don't understand why God would say no, or not now, or not that way.

We so easily put ourselves in the same spot Elin found herself in.  

We come and go as we please, we buy as we please, we order our lives as we please, and it is so easy to do all these things without first saying, "Lord, is this what you want?  Is it ok that I do this in this way?"  

We give the big things to Him. Usually. We might say things like, "Is this the person you want me to marry?" or, "What career do you want me to pursue?"  Big things.  We might even ask God to bless and direct the work that we are doing. Sometimes. 

But even if we are asking about the big things, it is easy to forget all the other times, and all the other moments, and all the other decisions. 

"What did you want me to say or do in this situation, Lord?," should be a constant whispered prayer of ours.  

"What were You planning to do with my day? What kind of plans did You have with my money? What steps do You want this season of my life to take?"

Asking these questions, and breathing these prayers day in and day out puts us in a posture to listen and learn, rather than in a position where we charge ahead hoping that we are on-target and God will bless our outcome.

Right now, in this season, and in last season, and the season before, God is lathering this lesson on me like a thick salve on a gaping wound.  I keep wanting to wipe the salve away.  I keep wanting to forget this lesson.  I wrote most of these words months ago, and yet, I am realizing I need them now more than I needed them then.  I keep wanting to charge ahead, to sprint out the gate, and the Lord keeps saying wait.  

I grit my teeth and I hold my breath for a long time.  Sometimes tears are involved.  And then I take a long slow breath, and look back up, and say "What were you planning with this?  Help me understand."

"Let not the wise man boast in his wisdom, let not the mighty man boast in his might, let not the rich man boast in his riches, but let him who boasts boast in this, THAT HE UNDERSTANDS AND KNOWS ME, that I am the Lord who practices steadfast love, justice, and righteousness in the earth, for in these things I delight, declares the Lord." 

Jeramiah 9:23-24