unclean

I am such a sinner.

...like, seriously.

sinner.

be careful if you think you are standing, because >BAM< you find yourself eating the concrete, searching for your glasses because you can't see anything, and your once white pants are soaked in the muddy puddle.

for me, it happens suddenly.  my hands will be in the air worshipping the God I claim as my own, and the next thing they're spelling words they shouldn't be.  sin is alluring.  sin is tempting.  sin is fun.  and in the moment, nothing matters except keeping the attention.

but afterward, you feel like shit about yourself.  because our hearts are not created to withstand what is harmful to us.  but often sin is placed in a form that makes it feel impossible to resist.

a tiny pinch of it begs us leaving for more and more and before long you've lost sight.  the glasses are nowhere to be found, and all sense of clarity in your mind has left you.  all that matters is the next hit of whatever makes you feel good, so you chase more of it.  and in your chase, something causes you to trip, and then you're crawling on the ground sucked into the irresistible.  the rest on the ground feels initially nice so you just stay awhile.

meanwhile, something weighted seems to be keeping you from moving as freely as before.  slightly panicked, you attempt to rise, only to realize you're pinned...and it's dark outside, the noises are not calming, and the ground is getting cooler.

stay with me...I'm just painting a picture of what happens to me when I dabble in the sin that so often entices me.

he is charming, and he is manipulative.

sin separates me from the God I reach out my hands to.  not because He doesn't love me, but because I've chosen darkness over light.  ...once again.

but I still walk through the church doors, and I shake the hand of the person beside me and I smile and I fool them.  I fool me.

I contemplate communion.  my hands don't deserve to touch it.  I am too unclean.  like a leper.  I should be confined to the outer walls of the city, unable to commune with people of God.  because I am a sinner.  unclean.

then Grace happens.  a scandalous thing it is.  Grace takes my leprous hands, places the bread and wine into them.  I push it away, "Don't you know what I've done..."  Grace nods His head and pushes the elements back into my grip.

I take you back.  I will always take you back.  Commune with me.  

The weights on the body loosen, Grace hands you back your sight, and helps you to your feet.

"Hang out with me..." Grace says, "Let me walk with you..."

babies, lies, and stories...

I check my Facebook page often...  Okay, way too often.  Don't you?  I changed my cover photo a couple days ago, and now every time that I open my page up, I see a hand stretched out in front of a person's face and written on her palm are the words, "YOU ARE GOOD ENOUGH."  Ever single time I read the words, there's a part of my heart that beats a little faster.

It's a question I've asked often over my twenty-three years...  Not that I had the worst childhood, but there were parts that were incredibly difficult.  One thing that has consistently lacked for many of my days is a legitimately good and healthy relationship with my parents.  My dad was 21 and my mother was 20 when I, an eight pound, thirteen ounce baby girl was delivered into their world.  I can only imagine the thoughts that went through their mind, "What the heck are we supposed to do with this?"  I know that is probably what I would think as a 20 year old.  They had been married a short 13 months before I changed their entire world.  I obviously do not remember the first couple years of my life, and by that time, my little sister had arrived.  Shortly thereafter, I was five years old, and then came my baby sister.  She was born on March 4th, and came home from the hospital on my fifth birthday, March 7th.  I remember the drive home in our long blue car with hot cloth seats.  I did not want her to come home with us.  Primarily because my mother told me that she was my birthday present.  Who wants a live, crying baby for their birthday?  Um, not me.  (Fortunately, when we got home, some sweet friends had brought a Barney backpack to me for my birthday...and I loved it.)

A few years after my baby sister came home, my mother began to struggle emotionally.  She was depressed most every day and her involvement in our lives became more difficult because of how she felt.  Although I think she still loved us a lot, she distanced from us.  As a kiddo, I just thought that if I could do something more and act more grown up, that it would make her happy.  Often, it did make her proud of me.  (And other adults in my life always complimented me because of how grown up I acted...so I just kept it up.)  I did it so that my mom would be happy and spend time with us.  If there was one thing my mother loved, it was a stunningly clean and meticulously organized house.  Still does!  But, when it didn't always work; when clean didn't always make her happy, she stayed depressed...and distant.  So, I worked harder... and the lesson I learned (whether my mother thought this way or not...) was that I simply wasn't good enough; that I couldn't do enough for her to be happy.  There was nothing that I could do to make her smile at me and spend more time with me.  So, I stopped trying and I just internalized that lie..."You are not good enough." 

We all have our stories.  We all have those thoughts that are destructive.  We all have lies that we have believed.  And acknowledging that it is indeed a lie, doesn't necessarily mean you stop believing it.  It takes a lot of work to disable the lie that becomes lodged as truth in your heart.  I'm too much.  I'm not good enough.  You don't really love me.  If only I was prettier.  If only I was thinner.  I should be smarter than this.  Did I mention, I'm too much.?

I have believed and still believe at times, all of those lies.  It's a process to replace a lie with the truth.

We all struggle and we struggle because of various things.  Remember that you have a story, and be aware of the people around you.  They have stories, too.  They have tough stuff that has happened to them in their lifetime.  Be compassionate and patient.

"Even If..."

Before I walked into work this morning, I decided to open up my email and do a little clean up of my inbox.  I rarely open and read the "Encouragement for Today" email's from Proverbs 31 Ministries... but I did today.

The author recalled her past of being raped and ten years later trying to heal from it.  She often asked herself how she could possibly forgive him without an apology from him.  She later discovered that even if he gave her an apology, it would not set her free.  It would not set her free.

If it is possible to feel punched in the gut and hugged at the same time; it's what I felt.

I felt the Lord whisper to my heart, "Even if they believed you, it would not set you free."  For the sake of hearts involved, I'll conceal what my family has refused to believe. The point is that man's word does not set anyone free from any chains.  Actually, man's word can bind.

Stephanie Clayton writes,

"Freedom is not contingent upon receiving an apology from those who have hurt us."

I have lived for 18 years with a chain around my ankles, waiting for someone to listen.  Waiting for someone to dig deep and figure out the pain etched in my masked smile.  Longing to be held and loved through the shame and confusion.  The older I became, the more compact it all became and the chains tightened.  I have been waiting to be heard and believed by the people who gave me life, while missing that God was the one who breathed air into my lungs and caused my heart to beat.

I missed that my freedom cannot possibly come from where I expect it to come from.  It comes from the God who is my father AND my mother.  Freedom comes from living for an audience of ONE.  Freedom comes by walking back through the pain, and allowing Him to soothe and console and nurture the wounds caused by faulty people (as we all are at times...).

It's interesting to me that man can bind, but man cannot unbind.  Only God can bring freedom.  Only He holds the power to restore what has been destroyed.

And, He is not waiting for anyone to apologize before He heals.

live strongly, laugh loudly, love deeply

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.  My frame was not hidden from you,when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.  Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. -Psalm 139:13-16

There is a level of peace that comes when I remember that, all of my days were already formed for me, before even I was formed... God cannot be surprised or dismayed by any of my steps. He knew what they would look like before I was even being formed in my mother's womb. 

I have many goals in life. There are so many things I would like to do before my short time on earth is over. I want to gain higher education so that I am more capable of helping those in my community in a greater way; to gain a greater credibility. I want to find a husband that shares similar goals; to partner with and to love life with. I want to be a momma; to my kids and to other's. I want little hands to teach kindness and service to and tiny feet that learn to take giant leaps of faith. I want to travel the world and hold and nurture kiddos of all colors and ages and kiss their faces. I want to wipe tears from hurt kiddos' pain and speak life over them. I want them to know that He formed them, knitted them together wonderfully, intricately wove them, and has a brilliant plan for their lives. I want to love them to pieces. I want their hearts to grow strong in love for God and people.

I want to walk tall and feel strong. I want the work I am doing now, to enable me to push back walls of darkness in others. I want to do for others what people have done/are doing for me. I want to grow in my career. I want to grow in my health and wellness.

I want to legitimately learn how to play the piano; not just chord. I want to sing again. I want to paint and decorate a house I own. I want to have chickens and horses and puppies. I want to write a book. I want to share my story, (the pain AND the restoration), and see God use it for good. 

Maybe not all of these things mentioned will happen. Though they seem like some pretty amazing goals, Ephesians says that God can do abundantly more than I can ask or imagine. So, I guess if these things don't happen, better things are on their way.

I just want to live strongly and laugh loudly and love deeply. 

-Wonderful are His works; 

my soul knows it very well.-

Recovery

My birthday is coming up. March 7. I'll be 24. It always kind of freaks me out when I realize that every year of my life is another year farther away from being 18 again. This year seems to be beginning with a certain theme; letting go.

There are many ideas/things/relationships that need to be let go in my life. Let go so that other ideas can form, that better things can come, and so that stronger, healthier relationships can build.

It's not easy for me to let go...of anything. I'm not a hoarder of material things, but things of the heart; I am. Even when it may be damaging to my heart. I'm positive I'm not the only one. You may be the same way.

In the past, I have allowed negative behaviors to control my actions. I have allowed negative influences to lead my relationships. I have allowed negative sights, sounds, and feelings to confirm what I think about myself; that I'm useless, purposeless, filthy, worthless, and incapable.

Through much reflection and hard work, those negative thought patterns are being disabled. Sometimes I still make decisions out of those beliefs; and often those decisions put me in a path of harm. It's okay to make those decisions, though. I'm still working it out. I know it's not possible, but I kind of convince myself that Jesus loves me more because of my failings. It makes coping with them a little easier. :)

Anyway, letting go is hard. But, I am having to do it in many areas of my life. I would encourage you to seek yourself and see if you find anything you would benefit from letting go of. Or maybe, you will find a hole that needs filled.

I'm praying that 2013 is better than 2012. And that my 24th year is better than my 23rd.

A year of recovery. Yes, a year to recover.