Road to Recovery - Part 4

Getting Your Life Back 

How do we get back on the right track as empaths and people pleasers? Is it possible?

Seems to be quite possible. However, there is a need to educate yourself first, and that can be a tough time. Realizing on both a cognitive and heart level that there are problems and issues in your life isn't much fun. 

I know from hard life experience that calling people out on their blind spots can be next to impossible. I'm thinking back to times when I was warned about certain situations, and I could not see it. I would not see it. The attraction and bond to what I felt I needed was too great - like a mountain in the way, I could not see ahead. 

Trying to warn someone that the path they are on is going to end in a foul swamp of pain and misery is not what they want to hear. We all know this, especially as adults. We've all been in such swamps. Many of us have taken years to get the stench of misery out of our clothes and the dregs of pain off of our minds and hearts. There is always something to blame, some rationale that makes perfect sense at the time. 

So I have grace and kindness for my younger self; where once I would have mentally beaten myself up for mistakes, I now see that for the counter-productive cow manure it is.  

In The Pilgrim's Progess, Christian receives a number of such warnings. He still falls asleep in By-Path Meadow, loses his scroll on the Hill Difficulty, and is persuaded off the path by Worldly-Wiseman. He learns from each mistake, but the suffering and ground lost are real and the consequences sometimes severe. 

At one point Hopeful and Christian almost fall into a deep pit. 

"Who could have thought that this path would lead us astray?"

 Hopeful replied, "I was afraid it might from the very first, and that is why I gave you that gentle caution. I would have spoken more firmly, but you are older than I." 

The Pilgrim's Progress is gold; I purchased a beautiful hard cover copy to read often, and it never fails to set my heart on Christ again. 

I remember participating in a study years ago using the popular book Boundaries by Dr.'s Henry Cloud and John Townsend. I have read it a few times since, and there is such a wealth of wisdom there for everyone, but particularly people like me. The chapter that resonated the most was on "Boundaries and Yourself". Who knew we needed boundaries with ourselves? Oh, but we do.  We can be our own worst enemies. Learning boundaries is a humbling experience, because it involves taking responsibility for ourselves, for our weaknesses, insecurities, and for our own contentment. Empaths often feel stretched and out of touch with their own needs and feelings. As a result, it is a constant temptation to put the responsibility on someone else. 

If other people weren't so obnoxious. 

If my family could just back off. 

If my significant other could read my mind, that would help. 

Empaths (and the rest of the world) need to take responsibility for their own lives. 

This is hard. Really hard. Because spending our lives taking care of or helping others takes the focus off what maybe we could or should be doing. This is the big problem - avoiding one's own needs by seeking out the needs of someone else. 

Always looking after the needs of others also means there is always someone else to blame. 

Practical Stepping Stones 

• Reduce time spent with those who drain your energy, and increase time spent with people who have your best interest at heart.

This step is probably going to be counter-intuitive. It appears at first glance to be logical, but often people-pleasing, agreeable empaths will do the opposite. They will perpetually scan the horizon for empty, disadvantaged individuals, and actually avoid those who care about them the most. 

• Reduce the need to please by realizing and acknowledging your worth. 

Empaths seek to please others and always be highly agreeable partly because of a deep-seated sense of unworthiness. The equation of "I made you happy, and now I feel a sense of worth from doing that" must be inverted to "I have worth, and therefore I am able to give." I give because I have worth, rather than I gain worth through my giving. I am loved and worthy of love whether I give or not. 

• Reduce stress in order to lessen the critical messages coming from within. 

The more stress an empath is experiencing, the harder they are on themselves. The judgmental, critical voice comes out and takes over, pummeling the empath with an internal attack of fear and anger. Predatory and manipulative individuals can set the internal critic going by preying on fears of failure, accompanied with the stress of trying to make it all work out. 

Ways to keep stress manageable are (Captain Obvious) eating well, sleep, and exercise, and also staying clear of people who ask too much of you. Sometimes these situations are unavoidable, but being aware can really help. 

Stay Grounded

I'm learning to stay in a better place. Now that I am more aware of my own tendency toward self-sabotage, it is easier to rise above what used to get me down. 

I don't shrink so much from taking care of myself these days; I know it is necessary. 

Meditating on the gifts and joys in life gives hope and strength to keep going. My family, my kids, my husband, my job, music, nature, and most of all the kindness of a good and loving God are the gifts and joys I hold onto. 

Getting out there, making plans, challenging myself, creating, writing, teaching, worshiping, reveling in beauty and nature, having coffee with a good friend...these are what give living so much LIFE. 

I have a good God. He gives wisdom even when I have spent a lot of time with folly, and I know He will show me the way ahead, even when I can't see around the corners. 

A Good Atheist - Part II

In the previous blog I tried to explain why I could have made a solid atheist, and a few thoughts on why that didn't happen.

And so here we are to explore further. What avenue to walk down?
Morality? Conscience?
I'm thinking it may be useful to consider the journey of many like me, around the same age and of a similar background, and a path that has often led to a staunchly atheistic view.

A- (Greek "without") + Theos ("God").

    Without God. God-less. No God, nor even god. For many it has been the inevitable conclusion, having looked for God, waited for Him, pursued him quite possibly, and found nothing, heard nothing. So, Nothing it must be.

For others the conclusion is born of hating the very idea of God. There cannot, there MUST not be a God, and if there is he is a hideous creature. Looking at the world, the pain and deformity of it, bespeaks a madman of a creator, a being so high and thoughtless of the sensitivities of human and animal kind as to be monstrous and unworthy of knowing. This idea has a large following.

For some, the conclusion of Without God has spawned from both of these angles, and also one Other Thing. If I am a creature of desires, with the guts and glory to satisfy said desires, then by all means - I should! Simply put, God made me this way. If he did, why then should he expect me to behave exactly opposite of how I am wired? And if he did not make me, then it doesn't matter in the slightest as long as I do no harm (doing no harm being much, much easier said than done, which is a topic for another time).

And so God is taken out of all equations (except where blame for wars and various religious horrors must be laid). This is the state wherein it becomes easy to mock and laugh at God and/or those who believe in him. It is a type of mental exercise, a killing of all divine ideas in a sort of constant, pseudo-intellectual way, and it makes life a good deal easier and a great deal more fun, it seems, to boot.

        (I say pseudo-intellectual because a true intellectual analysis of life and humanity, the world and the Bible, memory, anthropology, biology, chemistry, space and time, soul and body, spirit and emotion, etcetera, points relentlessly to God as a compass to North.
Don't believe me? Try it.
Try it as objectively as possible, just study everything, and see where it leads!)

Many friends, classmates, colleagues and strangers of my generation, Gen X, have laughingly thrown off the shackles of god and church once and for all. For these  people I have a great deal of hope and an equal measure of empathy.

Growing up in the local evangelical church can unfortunately be a perfect inoculation against the "God-virus", as you will. Just enough Christianity to know what it's about, but not enough for true salvation.  A child-like faith and a tender heart will inevitably be crushed, somewhere along the line, by the boots of legalism, hypocrisy, or emotional pain.
Kids and teens were taught to accept God's word, but never to wrestle with it.
For example, I was taught that God is good. Daniel prayed, and God shut the lions mouths. Amazing! Truly a teachable moment. 'Let us pray that God delivers us too, from all of our fears.' Few Sunday school teachers, however, will ask what it would mean if Daniel prayed and then was horribly and immediately devoured by the lions.
Do we not think the Christian martyrs thrown into the Roman colliseum were praying God would shut the lions' mouths? And then he didn't, and still they praised. They were burned at stakes, and still sang and worshipped. Not to tarnish the testimony of the saints, but they must all have been insane.
Either every one insane... or they knew something the soldiers and other prisoners and the rulers did not know. Their confidence and hope, so far removed from their own flesh, cried out that death is not the worst thing to be feared. Our culture today fears and shuns death most of all, but the martyrs knew that death was only a passageway to being always with the One their soul loved. Having known HIM, there was no other. Having tasted true life, there was no other life apart.

"Jesus answered, 'Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.'"        John 4:13-14 

     So, what then? Could it be that God makes decisions not based on human wisdom, will or emotions, but only on what he himself deems best? Ah. There's the rub for many of my generation, and every generation. Especially those raised in church and other Christian institutions.
Our parents generation went through the wild and wooly 60's, the freedom 70's, and while raising us were shocked by the excess of the 80's. There was an element of control that was needed, many leaders thought. Control the content, the response, the environment, and the end product will behave properly and be properly saved. Now I think each generation has a hang-up, and most of these are sub-concious and unintentional.
Gen X'ers were taught that if you did such and such, followed the rules, then life would be good. For Christian kids, it was "stay away from this bad stuff, and do these good things, and God will make sure you are happy." So we avoided eyeliner, messing around with boys, and MTV.
We followed the rules.
But the formula did not work.
We remained empty. Lonely. Disillusioned. Frustrated. Little by little the masks slipped. For some, it was still in high school the disillusionment set in. For others, it was in university, when the big questions finally were asked. Or at community college or a job, when we realized the "bad" non-christians were often more caring, decent, REAL individuals than our judge-y Christian friends.

For some it may have been standing at a pile of dirty dishes, kids sleeping finally, and they realize their husband or wife is out much too late. Is this what being a good Christian has got me? Betrayal and heartache? I am done with God. He doesn't care anyway.

For some it may have been serving in church for decades, no joy in Christ, no acknowledgment, and one day they simply walk away.
Maybe a tragedy. Depression. Witnessing incredible poverty or abuse. There cannot be a God.
If there is a God, he is cruel and unjust. I want to be alone to put my life together the best way I can.

The common thread here is that GOD DID NOT MEET OUR EXPECTATIONS. And so we either looked for a more comfortable, nicer, tamer sort of god, made in our own image.....or rejected the whole concept entirely.

This is not what I signed up for.
I have rights.
God has let me down.

Nirvana rocked lyrics that deliberately lacked meaning, mocking the whole world and its tiresome systems. We let our hair down and yelled and sang along.

Bullet With Butterfly Wings

       - The Smashing Pumpkins

The world is a vampire, sent to drainSecret destroyers, hold you up to the flamesAnd what do I get, for my pain?

Betrayed desires, and a piece of the game
Even though I know--I suppose I'll show
All my cool and cold-like old Job 

Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage
Then someone will say what is lost can never be saved
Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage (...)

Many Gen X'ers, Christians included, feel like trapped rats, going through the maze in a cage. Church, which is meant to be a place of connection and healing, a place to be in God's presence together and help each other, often sadly has little of either going on. People with less time and more stress these days tend to reject duty that has no apparent purpose or meaning. There has been a mass exodus away from organized "Christian systems": programs, meetings, church services. People end up meeting in other places, sharing different types of communion, where at least they feel a sense of understanding and friendship.

So it becomes easier to forget about God. And then in the rush and ease of doing what we want to do, remembering him becomes highly inconvenient.
The trouble with God is that he is GOD; he is not us, nor an extension of us.
He tends to make up his own mind.
We miss what he is doing because we are looking at something in our imagination, and think that it is God.

Why do I hold on to belief and friendship with God in the face of all this apparent hopelessness?
Well, the answer is simple. Because He is real. He holds on to me.
Time after time he shows me he is working.
Time after time he has made something beautiful out of my ashes and despair and mistakes.
The whole energy of the world, our flesh, and the Devil works to throw up walls and clouds of doubt and self-pity, and yet still the sun burns through the clouds and I feel the warmth of God's unconditional love and care for me. Then it overflows, and I feel how much he loves you, too.
Winter comes, and clouds, and cold, and yet I know the sun is there sustaining all of life. (At the moment I am writing while seated on a fallen log out in the snowy forest, sun far from sight. Yes, I am cold!)

Reach out to Him; God may not be precisely what you wished for, but He never disappoints. He will show you answers in his own time.
He is more real than the most truthful conversation you have ever had.
He is more loving than the best friend could be.
He loves to heal and restore and make things new again.
He is holy and yet he has made the most humble path of salvation for us to walk toward Him.

Don't waste time looking for a god that feels better but has nothing to give you.

I don't know why God doesn't answer my questions right when I think of them.
I don't know why he has often left me in the dark, not sure of what is ahead.
The thing is, it doesn't really matter, because I trust him.
We walk together; we are friends.
It is amazing but true; the God of the universe has become my most constant companion - and there is plenty of room for you, too.

Why I Would Be a Good Atheist

It is too bad, in a twisted way, because I would have made a good atheist. 

When I was a kid, I asked God a lot of questions, and when I wasn't sure God was listening, I directed my questions to the trees and to the open sky. A big question, and I'm not really sure why, 
was, "I didn't ask to be born, so why do I owe the universe, or other people, or God - anything??" I was genuinely puzzled, feeling a bit like a rat that has been dropped into a maze, expected to run here and there and try hard, find the meaning of life, whatever. 
What was the point?

I became fairly depressed at a young age, I think. I recall underlining verses in the Psalms at about age 9 or 10, verses like, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish?" (22:1) and thinking YES! David gets it. THIS I can relate to. (I didn't realize the prophetic or Messianic meaning of the passage at the time, so can we leave that for now...thanks.)

As a younger child I trusted God completely, walking on the forest paths with my hand stretched up, literally feeling like I walked hand in hand with Him. He saw and appreciated the beautiful things I saw. He was real, and He loved me. He loved my neighbors that didn't know Him yet. He loved my grumpy bus driver. He loved my little brother. 
I'm not sure when the tough questions started, but I had many opportunities to consider them. I went to a Christian school, Sunday school, church, evening service, you name it. I heard all the Bible stories. I could tell you all the Bible stories, and their meanings too. Somewhere in there, I started asking:

If God could create all of life, why did some things die so fast, and others last longer than they wanted to?
If God knew Adam and Eve would sin, why did He bother with all the charade of warning them?
If God could do anything, how could He watch Cain kill his brother Abel in cold blood?
If God made the unshakable rules of the world, why did He have to send Jesus to die for all sin - couldn't there have been another way?? Something less painful, something less....bloody.
If following Jesus Christ is the only way to Heaven, shouldn't God have made it more obvious?
What about people who never got a chance to hear?
What about my baby sister who didn't live very long? My grandma who made it pretty clear she wanted nothing to do with God at all? 

And on and on. 
If the chapel speakers and pastors had known what was going through my brain...! I wished the questions would go away. I wanted to be whole, trusting, a believer, not a doubter. It seemed shaky ground. 

Around age 11 I had an experience when I was praying where I felt an amazing sense of peace. God was right there with me, and I felt His great presence and knew that He understood my questions and that it was ok to ask them.  I wanted to be baptized and show everyone that I was serious about following God and that there was no turning back for me. I was baptized soon after, and though I still felt the shaky ground, I also knew beyond a shadow of doubt that God existed, and if He existed, then He had to be who He said He was. If was who He said He was, then He would either answer my questions - or show me why they didn't matter. 

 As an older teen the big questions came back. I was lonely and misunderstood, like many teenagers. I felt like I was trying so hard, doing all the right things, but it didn't seem to matter. Nothing was good enough. Sin was still there; loneliness was still there, pain and questions remained. I kept up the Christian life, but underneath I was wondering, "Who is this "GOD" who expects me to know Him when He doesn't show himself?"

 Then there was Bible college. It wasn't very hard, because I knew everything. Or I thought I did. The course on minor prophets was fascinating, however. I read, and thought, realizing that these more obscure books had so many layers of meaning and so many treasures of truth and light. 

And the Book of JOB! I noticed that many people in the Bible had similar questions to mine. And God had an answer for each one of them that met their real need, which was interesting. He doesn't answer any questioner in the same way. He was gracious to one, He whispered to another. He thundered. He wrestled. He laughed...He argued...He put one or two in their place. But always different, as if He actually knew the person. And God challenged people! He gave Moses, Jacob, Job and others the privilege and the dignity of an actual discussion. He showed up.
  

In all the hubbub of modern life, there are many who think they know whether God does or does not exist, but few who will look into it beyond the latest meme or what a friend or professor said that seemed to make perfect sense. And so we make up our minds one way or the other, without looking very far ahead. Because one thing is certain; He either exists or he doesn't. And if He does exist, then everything He says about Himself and about us, is true too. If He doesn't exist, then there really is no purpose in any religion. If God is not there, religion is merely giving people a "program" of sorts, something to cling to when they don't feel safe.

I have realized I am one of those people Paul talks about in Romans 9:19:

"One of you will say to me, “Then why does God still blame us? Who can oppose what he wants to do?” But you are a mere human being. So who are you to talk back to God? Scripture says, “Can what is made say to the one who made it, ‘Why did you make me like this?’ " 

When he wrote, "One of you will say...", he was thinking about me. Maybe about you, too.

I was so happy to read this verse and feel like I wasn't alone. Is it something to be proud of?

I suppose in the way of respecting that my mind wants to know.

Do we honestly think God is hoping we will go through life smiling, unthinking, like some sort of brainwashed cult followers? 
Read the Bible for a few minutes and it becomes obvious that is not the case.
So how did I get to today, where I understand the questions but no longer have to ask them (much) for myself? It has been an uphill journey. I will have to write more about that later. 
Suffice it to say that the reward of traveling ever uphill is a wider, farther perspective. I can see things from here that I couldn't before. I have made it further than I ever dreamed I would, and the view is pretty fantastic.

There is a lot more to say on this subject, but I have grown weary of writing and am at risk of becoming a bore. Perhaps I would have made a fine atheist. I am unbelievably grateful though, that I have gone quite the other direction.

 
 

It Was the Best of Times...

"...It was the worst of times."  A Tale of Two Cities. And the only line I (or anyone else for that matter) can recall - that first, great, quotable line before the entire class of high school English students nods off.
But it does sum things up.
It's been a great time, moving. Exciting, inspiring, fresh, mind-boggling by turns.
It's been a horrid time, moving. Exhausting, lonely, sad, and overwhelming by turns.

Due to sparking synapses I've been simply jotting down thoughts as they drift by these last weeks. Like catching butterflies. Snagged, netted, and pinned on a board. None too pretty, but necessary for cataloguing.

Living in Town
 

This is so odd. I can see my neighbours out on their driveways, doing Saturday things. They are so close. I could holler a greeting, but some instinct warns me this is not how Town operates. I lower my head and pull a few weeds from the lawn edges. I am thoughtful. Everyone is working hard to keep their spot looking nice. Earlier this summer I was cutting a lawn that would encompass at least 6 or 7 of these neighbouring yards. I mowed around 20 plus lilac trees, 12 ash trees, and large evergreens, two mayday trees, two apple trees, and a small cherry.  And playground equipment. Do I miss it? Who wouldn't? 

 I miss the freedom. I used to sing the same songs over and over at the top of my lungs and laugh out loud about funny stuff going through my brain, pausing to yell at the dog or the kids to pick up odd hidden things I was about to run over.
Cinder would obediently pick up sticks in front of the ride-on to my cry of, "Cinder! Stick! Stick!!!" and then drop them back in front of me the next round. She acted the innocent but I'm quite sure she thought it was hilarious.

"What? (bark) Oh, you didn't want that there? (bark) I thought...(bark) never mind, I'll get it, ha (bark) ha!"

 There are no enormous ant hills to run over and then watch the ants go crazy. Yes, there are these things that I miss. And I realize, turning my back on the neighbours and trudging back into my new digs, that I can't shout across the street because it all only makes sense if we continue the illusion of our own spaces. There are no convenient (inconvenient?) barbed wire fences marking the property lines. Reminds me of Robert Frost's Mending Wall. "He is all pine and I am apple orchard. 
My apple trees will never get across 
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him. 
He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors'".

Joy of Unpacking

      It's the oddest feeling, unpacking boxes in the new place. You remember just what you were feeling and thinking, the slant of sun through the window, maybe some music that was on, while you packed that same box in the old place. Unwrapping the plates from their newspaper, you feel yourself in the old kitchen. You can smell the cupboards, see the paint on the walls. In some ways it's lovely unpacking. All the bits of home wafting out, like leftover ribbons from last year's party. 

Sermon Notes

"Those who cling to worthless idols forfeit the grace that could be theirs."  Jonah 2:8

I read this in church, during the sermon (that actually was on the book of Jonah, though I admit to reading randomly during sermons at times when I simply can't focus anymore, after about 10 minutes ...) I love this verse. I cling to worthless things. Idols, like iPhones and my best furniture and the length of my resume. "Forfeit" is a word that coaches use when the other team doesn't show up. They forfeit the game - they could have played, they could have won perhaps, but now they'll never know. When I cling to my idols I am too busy with them to show up to the game. The incredible grace that was for me, that I could have called mine is no longer there, not because God doesn't have rich stores of grace, not because he's given up on me, but because I was busy holding on to my worthless idols and I didn't even get to the game.
 

Jobless in Three Hills
 "I am the only member of the family who doesn't have a day plan, who doesn't know what she's supposed to be doing. I'm cooking, cleaning, organizing, shopping, paying bills and setting things up for school etc, so my days are busy. Unfocused though. It's rather unsettling, because how am I supposed to get a job and still keep everything running ...seems like it would be the monkey wrench thrown in the clock...nothing but springs and screws flying everywhere and not a clue as to time! Still, a job must be had. I suppose writing poetry all day, sighing blissfully and chugging mugs of coffee won't pay the bills. If only."

Spiritually Speaking

          The thing about packing up your family and going off to Bible college is that people expect you to have a higher sort of spirituality. I've had acquaintances approach me on the street asking if I could bless their baby, or pray for their cat to live through it's vet checkup. (No, I haven't had this. But I did walk down the street in some trepidation for awhile after letting people know of our decision. See, now I can't even lie.)

         It's true, the plans to go to Bible college have been the result of much prayer. We believe in God, we have seen his hand in our lives, and we have come to this point because of a strong desire to make our lives count for God's purposes in the world. He is leading and we are following. It's not crystal clear and at times we can't see the next stone to step on, or we lose each other in the mist. But still we know the path is there.

       So in this sense we need to be close to God, and stay close. We need help and direction and strength - all these God has in abundance. I know it is sink or swim time, rubber-meets-the-road time, and I can't do this on my own. That's the whole point really!
I couldn't do it on my own before either, but now there is no pretending I am.
And I'm glad of this. 

      On the other hand, I'm still the same quirky, faulty person, who swears a little too much and who wakes up in cold sweats imagining what my kids will be saying to their psychologists in years to come. I am not any more spiritual than I was before. However, I'm hoping I will be more faithful, more real, more sold out than ever before. And that my life and words and blog ramblings will reflect that. 

There is no faking it with God. I'm not going to pretend I have it all figured out, and I'm not going to pretend I'm not growing in my walk with Him.  It's tougher to mime walking on water when you're actually out of the boat.


*      *      *

There is more.
Other flighty thoughts I have netted include:
New Friends, The Noisy Disappointing Dryer, Fear of Shopping, and My-Husband-Is-Often-Home-What-On-Earth!!
These and other stories we can discuss over coffee if the mood strikes.

Thanks for reading and listening to my thoughts. If you want me I will probably be at the Macs down the block, getting brain freeze from a Slurpee. Feel free to holler; it makes me feel right at home.

In Oceans Deep

Moving Journal Entry #2

June 19, 2014

One thing about moving that I find hard is "the last times". There's the last drive to school, the last sleep in your room, the last walk down the driveway, the last smell of the lilacs, the last stroll with the dog, last look around at the place you've called Home.

Because I'm of the sensitive-soul type (who isn't, though, really), I think about these things and I have a sharp-knife-point awareness of them as we go along. I try not to think too much or move too fast, to keep the point on the outside of the skin, to keep the hurt out. I'm too aware of the stress my children are feeling. We all are under the weight of loss and the relentless time-keeping the days impose. My husband's voice is a bit sharp as we drive away and leave his old red truck in someone else's driveway.

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders, let me walk upon the waters, wherever you would call me Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander and my faith will be made stronger in the presence of my Savior                            

 "Oceans"      -HILLSONG

Keep our eyes above the waves, Lord.

The only way through is to keep walking, keep one foot stepping in front of the other. Every other day we ask ourselves and each other -
 'What are we doing, again? This is a good thing, right? Are you sure we've got this right?'
This is where the exercising of the faith comes in. I must confess the muscle is weak and flabby and tires easily.


One moment I'm packing, fast and efficient, cleaning almost frantically - tripping, phoning, getting things done. The next, I'm slowed to a crawl. I stare at the cupboards, wonder what to do with the food (What did we do last time? Why can't I remember anything?) and then turn away from the cupboards and go outside. I'm worried the piano won't take one more move. We need that piano, it's a family heirloom now, and Lauren plays it constantly - but the legs have become weak. I'm afraid to move it even one inch. What if it breaks? I might break.

Because I'm sentimental but also ridiculous and sarcastic, there's a bit of Jekyll and Hyde going on. A tear rolls down for some reason. Two minutes later I'm rolling my own eyes at my own tears. Cue exaggerated eye-rolling. (It's not that big of a deal! Come on, people move every day. Get over it.) Much of the time I'm just fine and logical and perfectly calm, a paragon of rationality, one might say. Mmm.

I am more than Thankful for these days when I've had a few hours to myself, where I can think and sit in the quiet of an empty house and plan. I realize it's a huge privilege and I don't take it for granted, and I also know it's pretty much over. This afternoon is sports day at the school, then tomorrow is a short day, the last day. Today I'm going to be mowing the lawn, packing every box and thing I'm able to lift into a container, selling the mower, dealing with stuff. Looking for more boxes. I thought I had PLENTY of boxes, but I thought wrong.

The thing with Last Things, what gives them a knife-edge of sadness, is the word regret. Regret is one of the saddest words in the English language, me-thinks.

Because whenever you say good bye to something, there's always a what if. What if we had spent more time in the yard? What if the kids had finished the fort? Why didn't I have more family and friends over? Why didn't I finish that project? Why didn't we take more family photos? Ahh, regret. It permeates life. We never have enough time. We always make mistakes, that's just the way it is. We do our best with what we have in each moment, and sometimes we don't have anything left in that moment and our best is pitiful and sad.
But I believe it's ok. I believe this is NOT the END. How can we step out with confidence? How to set our hearts and eyes straight forward? How to let the sad and regret shake off like water drops, to only absorb what we can handle? How?
Because this isn't the end.
Eternity stretches out - and I believe we will have all of heaven to get the moments back. All is not lost! It's never lost, as long as we are breathing. I can do all these hard things, yes sometimes with tears, when I am holding the Hand of my God. Everything else I can let go, because when we leave this brief earth-sojourn it is only His Hand we will be holding.

...and there I find You in the mystery, in oceans deep my faith will stand

 

Treasures, Trees, and Trust

This morning I finally picked up my Bible for the first time in a long time.
No, it wasn't because I was feeling extra spiritual, and no, it was definitely not because my husband is planning to go to Bible school in the fall and I better get my act together.
It was simply that I was waiting for something to load on the computer, and I thought, "Well, it's as good a time as any." I think I was trying to answer the subconscious conviction in my heart, because I know without the water of the Word the life dries up and all things wither. But it has been a slow process of dawning obedience and I can't say I will pick up my Bible tomorrow, though sincerely I hope I do.

So I read Isaiah 45, on this the closing day of the sale of our home of 8 years (still waiting for confirmation on said sale). Here are a few treasures...

"I am the Lord and there is no other; apart from me there is no God. I will strengthen you, though you have not acknowledged me, so that from the rising of the sun to the place of it's setting men may know there is none besides me. I am the Lord and there is no other."

AWESOME. How many 'others' have I tried to follow and find God in....

'I will strengthen you.....though you have not acknowledged me...'

Yes, and yes. The staggering thing is the faithfulness he has in the face of our disdain, our misunderstanding, our godlessness.

When the equations of life are not to our liking, we take the God part out. So be it, if all we have now is the Question, the Unsolvable Equation; at least we are free of the God Problem.

I don't agree with many other Christians. Christians are dumb.
                            Take the God-part out.
I find church annoying and limiting and judgemental.
                             Take the God-part out.
I think the world and society have some good points that I can't reconcile with faith.
                             Just, take out the God-part.
These questions I have are too big. I need answers and I can't find them.
                             Take out the GOD PART ALREADY.

One thing I know, as people, we have a very high opinion of our own ideas and intellect. And now with information streaming high-speed over the internet we are even smarter. So smart, that all the ridiculous answers that we've been given by God are just - laughable. Infected, pus-oozing with our own pride, we have become so sick we are immune to the cure.

It's very lonely outside of the friendship of God.

With it, peace.

"They will say of me, 'In the Lord alone are righteousness and strength.'"

Am I still wrestling with several unsolvable questions?
Do I still feel angry over the injustices upon the earth?
Do I still think, "truly you are a God who hides himself..."?  (vs 15)

Oh yes.
However, I am sobered by the Words.

"Woe to him who quarrels with his Maker, to him who is but a potsherd among the potsherds on the ground. Does the clay say to the potter, What are you making? Does your work say, He has no hands?"

                 *                              *                            *

"I have not spoken in secret, from somewhere in a land of darkness; I have not said to Jacob's descendants, 'Seek me in vain."

The hand of God on your heart is heavy, and sweet. It comes as He wills, and not as I will. How we want to be in control of our own lives!! Master of our ships, commanders of destiny. The desire to surrender does not come from inside us, it comes from Outside and brings freedom with it. You see? Unsolvable equations.
Surrender = Freedom.

Life is in mind-blowing transition for me right now. The sun bathes the white-blossomed apple trees in front and back of the house, and I don't want to leave. The closet wall has the heights and ages of the kids etched in from the last 8 years. The road outside is the same one I walked as a girl, kicking stones, dancing alone under the sky, and considering how the baked-brown earth looked like chocolate. Through each new window is a beautiful, large tree that shelters and strengthens at the same time. On the grass the dog lies soaked in sunlight on the same spot where we first played with her as a puppy...and I don't want to leave. It's hard right now, but don't feel sorry for me, don't be swept away by my tide of sentimentality; it's all working out my trust. The trust is a little shaky. Each step forward takes a lot of courage. This is the inside of my life right now, looking out.

I hope to update more often.

If conditions are removed today, our house sold in 5 days.
This week we go again to Three Hills to look for a place to live.
In the meantime, everyday life still happens, and the weight of everything that needs to be done is actually crushing, all the responsibilities needing to be shouldered.
And so I'm really thankful for this time I took to write my thoughts out. It should serve as a record and a reminder for the future, the future that right now stretches out like shimmering mirage-like waves that rise off the burning highway, unclear.

Grateful for the friendship of God today. He is huge, and he will be my shelter and strength; I pray it is so.

 

 

  

 

 

So. We're Moving...Yep.

WELLLLLLL!!! What have we here!!!?? AN ACTUAL blog post from Pamela?!?

Will Wonders Never Cease. Shock and of course Awe.

               ... Ok, now that I've got the self-deprecating sarcasm out of the way (expected), WHAT has been going ON??

First, I wanted to finish the little series on personalities. I really liked that thing and it is so badly unfinished. Sad face. :(
I wanted to explore the different personality combos (Phlegmatic/Choleric/Psychedelic), <---not a="" personality="" real="">  look at a few famous people and how their personality affected (or didn't affect) their life stories, talk about how opposite temperaments attract each other, and finally..... discuss how it's all really crap and we are all unique, special, unclassifiable, amazing individuals!!Personality Ptooie! Oh and also I was going to ask readers to guess what personality blend I am. Maybe another time. (or you can guess now, that would be fine too!)

I really do think the grains of truth in personality study are worth looking at. It can help open up people to understanding and appreciating others, especially significant others or those who drive you up the wall, or both...as the case may be. But there is a limit to it, so as a wise man once said, "Know your limit, stay within it!" :)
Actually I think that has something to do with gambling or drinking responsibly. 
Anyway, it applies here, too.

Second, life has been really busy and really confusing. There has been some big stuff come down the pipe, and I've been trying to unload and sort through it and get it off my chest or back or whatever. 'Nuff said.
What's the big stuff?? Well there have been a few issues of my own (dot dot dot) but REALLY, it's all about Dylan, this guy I live with, and his (our) decision to go to Bible college next year.

*       *      * 
I grant you three asterisks of time to download that information. It may not be enough time, but it will have to suffice.

So it was tough to write a blog on Other Stuff and pretend that the Big Stuff wasn't happening and taking up all of my brain-space.

Now this decision is not random or out of the blue, though it may appear so, because he (Dylan) has been thinking of this for ...oh...the entire length of time I've known him. And now, after years of thinking and wondering and shoving it all back on the back burner, this year it became a Decision That Had to be Made. Should we, or shouldn't we?
 
The pros and cons list doesn't actually help when you know you have to do something. It merely delays the inevitable. Are there just as many cons as pros, and pros as cons? Yes, there about is. In the end though, we know we have to do this. Even if it turns out to be just one year, at least we (he) will have the peace and satisfaction of knowing we tried. He tried. We. He? Gaaaaaah whatever. 

This is really about Dylan but by default it becomes about me, and the kids, and even the dog Cinder, and the cats Bolt and Creamsicle. (Also our kids have names.) (Not important right now.)

And so, this brings us to the moving part. Honestly it has been nuts, completely nuts, lately. As you can imagine, so many decisions and variables to consider, distractions, voices, ideas, opinions,

:/ ok now all I'm thinking about is how the word 'opinions' looks a lot like the word 'onions', and I'm wondering why this is, and if they are related in any way...Halp!

Right now we are organizing inside, outside, garage-side, shop-side, basement-side.

 Mostly I start boxing up stuff in a room or closet, and end up sitting on the floor looking at books, or old pictures, sighing nostalgically, and then getting up rather stiffly and shuffling to another room, where I start imagining the chaos that will be unleashed in reorganising THAT room...and then getting very stressed-feeling and going outside, where I am distracted by thinking "Who will take the dog, that dog has lived here all her life, this is going to involve dog psycho-therapy I'm sure" and then raking a pile of leaves and branches, realizing there are serious ACRES of leaves and piles, digging a bit with a shovel, then wandering back inside where I realize I need to deal with e-mails and phone calls and bills and oh jeez we have not a stick of groceries in the house, what on earth are we going to EAT?

At that point there is a tiny brain implosion and I become incapable of doing anything but playing a mindless game on my phone, for about 5 minutes, and then racing madly into town to pick up the kids from school. The theme here is madness. But I'm going to be okay, really, I mean here I am blogging, while surrounded by piles of things that need to go places, papers, bags, boxes filled and unfilled, and the house going up for sale momentarily. I seem to be blinking rather fast. Is that a bad sign? Is that normal?

'blink blink blink'

SIGH.

I can do this.

I am excited (no, excited is a strong word)....I am inspired by the possibility of change. It's going to be tough, but good for us.
Many people do not understand, and I get it.
Why give up a perfectly good job to study something that is not going to advance but rather decrease your family financial situation??
Why put your kids in a different school when they are going to a lovely school here with lovely friends and teachers, etc,??
Why give up your house and acreage to move into a place that definitely will not be an upgrade??

These are all very good questions. Sometimes it's hard to sleep at night for thinking of them.

For now, let's just say it is all to do with God, and His purposes, and believing in that, and wanting to help people in a more whole-life way. Not everyone is supposed to do this, and I'm not sure what it's going to look like for us, but we do know that we have to step off the cliff and onto some faith, and trust that if God is real (and He is), and if we can't shake this "calling" (we can't -we've tried), then moving ahead is our only real option. It's a bit messy and grey and it would be really nice if there was more black-and-white involved, but that's what it is. Maybe more about the journey in a next post.

And Now You Know.

((((hugs))))

ttys.

p.s. I think onions are opinions without the pi. Or maybe opinions are onions with pi? Pie? Or something with ions. Or not --

   

 

FREEDOMMM!! (Part 2)

Last week I wanted to talk about freedom, expressing my deep desire for it. This desire seems to make me different than many women I know. Rather than seeking security, routine, home fires and white picket fences, I tend to pull the other direction, feeling stifled by these (admittedly wonderful) things. Here's a short list of the more typical comforts I find a tad suffocating:

Doing the same routine every day. Please, can every day be different?

Having my home and furniture decorated and set up beautifully. Sigh. I do want this. But not that badly. If it was perfect I would change the furniture arrangement and paint something the next day.

Staying home. Well, this year I've liked it, for sure. But generally the best feeling is going somewhere, anywhere. Hitting the road.

Meal plans. I've tried, I see the benefits, and I go crazy knowing what I'm going to eat. I want daily inspiration, and a microwave that thaws meat instantaneously!!

Enough about me! The ME MONSTER! There's like a thousand "I's" in the last paragraph. So we've established the abnormality of my gypsy-like nature. Good enough.

GOD. I know Him. I believe Him. I trust His Word. (okay, ignore the "I"s for a second)

Does He want to trap me, bind me up in misery, keep me from Freedom?

I KNOW He isn't like that, but yessss.... it does feel that way at times. The life of a believer in Christ seems like an endless obligation to church programs and meetings and stuff that should be done. Plus, you can't do it grudgingly, nope, gotta have a cheerful attitude and a right spirit! The healthy ones who learn to set boundaries and do what they are able to do, cheerfully, yeah, good luck to those guys. Eyebrows raise. Heads shake. Lips, they purse. "No, don't ask so-and-so, they've got boundaries." Like it's contagious. The Lazy Disease.

So yeah, I feel like God's got it in for me through my church obligations. I can't succeed here, all the time, and the failure is haunting. I WANT to be available and be able to serve with a happy smile, but the reality is DIFFICULT. I go, but there are shrieking voices in my head, and the smile is made of paper, glue, and pink markers.

Does God want me to feel like this? Is it a kind of perpetual testing? Keep trying by fire until some gold survives? Is it a punishment? Penance for past sins? No, that's not true. I know Him well enough to know that is not His Way.


FREEDOM. I think God loves it.

Isaiah 58 is where I go again and again to be challenged and shaken up.

"Is it a fast like this which I choose, a day for a man to humble himself ?Is it for bowing one's head like a reed And for spreading out and ashes as a bed? Will you call this a fast, even an acceptable day to the Lord?

Is this not the fast which I choose,

To loosen the bonds of wickedness, to undo the bands of the yoke,

And to let the oppressed go free

And break every yoke? (vs 5-6)

 

Not to spend our energy on looking spiritual, but to set people free.

 

 

Isaiah 61 tells of the coming Savior who is bringing freedom. And in Luke 4:17-20, the prophecy is powerfully fulfilled.

"And the book of the prophet Isaiah was handed to Him. And He opened the book and found the place where it was written,
 

'The Spirit of the Lord is upon Me,

Because He anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor.

He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives,

And recovery of sight to the blind,

To set free those who are oppressed, to proclaim the favorable year of the Lord.'
 

And He closed the book, gave it back to the attendant and sat down; and the eyes of all in the synagogue were fixed on Him."

 

The Pharisees and teachers of the law had decided who they thought Jesus was. Maybe you have, too. But when He shows up in your life, when you see Him, it doesn't matter anymore.

Your eyes are fixed on Him.

 

He came and died for freedom.

 

"If you continue in My word, then you are truly disciples of mine; and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free." John 8:32

 

"It was for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery." Galatians 5:1

 

 

It's pretty clear...freedom is stamped all over everything God writes and does and plans for. I know one thing comes through loudly: He didn't come and die and rise again so we could be a slave to church programs.

Is it the programs' fault? Not really. The bondage is in my mind and heart. Am I really free?

 

James calls the "perfect law" the "law of liberty". And that if I walk in that, I will be blessed in all I do.  (1:25)

 

I don't think I quite have it yet. The struggle is still raw and deep, and I can't go on walking in this disconnect. Desperate for the freedom I see and yet feeling bound up and whipped like a circus performer.

 

HOW DID WE GET HERE?

 

If I'm not free I can't untie anyone else. I can shout at them and tell them what to do, I can bounce around in my chair, but I can't cut the bonds.

 

"To set free those who are oppressed."

 

I don't have it yet, but one thing is Really Clear, and that is...

 

The truly free have the ability to set others free.

 

THINK about that.

 

I want to be the one running around on the battlefield lifting up the fallen, breaking into where the captives are and setting them free. Not on my face in the mud just wishing and wishing it was all over.

 

So that's Freedom Part 2, "from the Christian perspective". God is very much for freedom, and I think He planted the desire in my heart. Not so I would run away from Him, but so I would have such a thudding heart that I would not be content with slavery, and would run like a paint-streaked, bloody Braveheart into the thick of the mess, yelling for freedom.

 

By My Spirit, says the Lord.

 

Yep, that pretty much sums it up.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 





 

 

 

 

Reap the Whirlwind

They sow the wind...

I've had this phrase going 'round in my mind for a couple of weeks, and recalled that it was from the book of Hosea.

"They sow the wind and reap the whirlwind. The stalk has no head; it will produce no flour. Were it to yield grain, foreigners would swallow it up."    Hosea 8:7

Sow the wind, and reap the whirlwind.

Poetic, evocative. You can see the imagery; a hand sowing seeds into air, the crazy, howling twister approaching.

This phrase has been used for book titles, poems, songs, speeches -- both in and out of Christian circles. Many people quote these lines with no idea they come from the Bible, much less the context of the prophet Hosea and the Israelites who were spending themselves on idols, and still expecting the blessing of God.

But for here and now, how to understand the meaning? It can't be divorced from the original intent, a warning to people that their striving was leading to nothing, and even worse than nothing. The biblical people were expecting their God to come through for them, while they bowed to the neighbor's idols and basically did as they pleased.

A wind is nothing; it buffets, you feel it against your face, but it can't be seen or grasped. A wind is an emptiness. It blows where it wants. Who can direct it? 'Who Has Seen the Wind', writes W.O. Mitchell in his title, one of my favorite novels. Sowing the wind means sowing nothingness into air.

The whirlwind.... much different. A terrible force - a destruction that leaves chaos and scattered ruin as it passes. The power of the whirlwind belies the fact that it is wind, made up of only wind...of nothingness, of emptiness pushed. Little puffs of air, in tremendous synchronization. A whirlwind wreaks havoc.

In what ways do I sow the wind?

It's easy to look at society in general, to point fingers at aimlessness and the empty trappings of materialism.

"You have planted much, but harvested little. You eat, but never have enough. You drink, but never have your fill. You put on clothes, but are not warm. You earn wages, only to put them in a purse with holes in it." Haggai 1:6

Small, meaningless acts that may add up to horrible consequences. I think of our endless upgrading of computers and cell phones, and of the huge piles of discarded technology I've seen in pictures or documentaries. Children in China and other places burning holes in their fingers and lungs while separating the salvageable with vats of acid. A teenager in Somalia sifting with a stick through smoking circuit board remains to find a piece worth selling. The air above and the rivers above and below, a conduit of toxicity. When will we see the whirlwind? It grows in menacing strength over scenes like this all over the world.

Depressing, isn't it? Not exactly the cheery winds of Mary Poppins, or even the magical cyclone of The Wizard of Oz. But  I'm not thinking so much of the environmental storm clouds the world over -- though they are significant.

In what ways do I sow the wind?

I can sidestep the question by thinking closer to home. Those I know who I have watched, with a sinking heart, sowing the wind. Some reaping their own personal whirlwinds of pain, some who have the shadow of it over them. A useless and finger-pointing sort of business it would be to discuss. It does seem to make some people feel better to scrounge through the scattered remains of a life in a whirlwind's wake, poking and looking for reasons and holding up scraps of sins. What good is that? And if I haven't sounded a warning, who am I to shake my head after the destruction passes by?
How do I know the real story, the one I couldn't possibly understand even if I did know it?

In What Ways do I Sow the Wind?

So, back to a more personal (uncomfortable) level.

Empty conversation where I could be speaking life and truth.

So many times I hear my voice saying words that just stuff the air, as feathers in pillows. I meet someone, and tell them nothing that will save their soul. I keep my treasures under wraps, like rings turned backward on a royal hand. Tramping the water into mud underfoot, instead of holding it out to cracked lips.

"It's just not the right time." "I don't really know them". "They probably know already." "They've already made their choices; and rejected mine." "I have to work with these people."

Eternity waits. The blind man thanks Jesus for not making light conversation when he cried out for mercy. "Son of David!!"

I've been blind. Now, I see. Jesus I'm definitely not, but I can see.

Wasted time where I could be investing it wisely in things that count.

Entertaining myself. Stupid games are fun. I do need to have some fun, everybody does.
How long? What could have been carved into stone while I sifted sand through my hands?

I avoid fixing problems because it feels so futile. I don't know where to start! And the finish line is broken or obscured, and there doesn't seem to be anyone else running. I stop in the race and look around. It's lonely and meaningless. Household tasks I've put off for years. I sit down in the track and trace shapes in the sand.
.....The sands of time speed on.

When the Glass Runs Out

Sometimes I'm just tired, really, truly exhausted, and we all know life has a way of sucking us dry, day by day. A good rest can be the best use of time possible now and then!
There are a lot of messages out there to just take it easy, to relax, you deserve it. And once in a while it's good advice to take.

But what are we doing with our lives? Are we simply animals, to sleep, to wake, to feed, to procreate, to have the best day possible until the next holiday comes around? Is that it??!



Wow. If it is, 'tis misery. I can't be satisfied with that. I would be very like Van Gogh. Pursued by too much emotion and striving into madness, and worse. I don't know enough about his life, but I think I understand some of the agony and ecstasy. Always a dark corner, an obstruction of the light, searching, finding, trying, failing.
Beautiful starry, starry nights. Ragged men in ragged clothes. Too much life, in life, for it to be a futility, a grasping of wind.

If I sow the wind, giving way to meaningless words, empty work and endless entertainment, bowing low to the rituals of pleasure and profit, of town and country, what then?

There are days when that is enough.
Today, obviously, is not one of those days. It may be good to keep me busy, so that my thinking is so wrapped in the cellophane of urgency that I ship it off heedlessly and never unwrap it or set it out to observe. It's a rainy day. I was meant to be mowing the grass today...see, it's the fault of the rain.

I do know from observation, history and my own little life that trouble is stacked up bit by bit and then crashes down suddenly. The Bible is full of
wisdom, and warns often to avoid the fury of the whirlwind and live with eyes upward, watching what we sow daily take root and grow into a healthy, edible stalk of grain. When I don't know where to start and the sands of time seem to be running out way too fast, I will look at this hour.

Those who sow the wind, will reap the whirlwind. It strikes fear into me while at the same time there is hope, because I know Who holds the future, and I know Who holds my hand.

"Whoever sows to please their flesh, from the flesh will reap destruction; whoever sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life." Galatians 6:8

Church 2: Some Wee Clarifications

The trouble with such a big topic as Church, especially through the eyes of a personal history, is the inevitable gaping holes left that can cause questions and the raising of eyebrows. As the majority look much better with our eyebrows calmly settled in our faces I thought I'd revisit the topic. Now that the dust has settled 'round the corners of my mind I find myself with a bit more to say. I did try to change the topic entirely, go back to paint colors or a poem about mountains of lovely snow -- or something equally benign -- but it wouldn't let me. So I succumbed.

Enlightened...?

The first wee clarification is the line about disillusionment with church being a "go-to topic of conversation for those brave and enlightened enough to face the reality". Now I meant that almost entirely tongue-in-cheek. There ARE a lot of people, generally Christians, talking about this. But I'm not sure about the level of courage involved here, and the "enlightened" part is most certainly in jest. Tinged with a sarcastic hue, even. It seems that those talking about disillusionment with church are either bemoaning the mass youth exodus, complete with statistical charts and blame flying here and there, or conversely, standing with arms folded and eyes rolling...and blame flying.
 
Frustration about going to church, and especially criticism of the conservative evangelical "old guard", is a hot topic of conversation. It sells Christian magazines. Books on the subject are popular. I'm not brave or enlightened by discussing it, but it does resound with me, and there are reasons for that which may be able to shed some light.
 

Matters of Size

A lot of what I've felt about the small local church is precisely because it IS as small, local, church.
 
Small means there are a lot of jobs to do and not many bodies to do them. It means you might be teaching Sunday School, shoveling the sidewalks, and playing the piano all in the same service. It means that you wash the dishes by hand after a potluck meal, scraping a hundred dirty plates and running after people in the parking lot saying, "Hey! I think this is your casserole lid."
 
It means that if you aren't there, you are missed. Mm-hmmm.
 
I've attended much larger churches, and one mega-church, in different places we've lived. You're not likely to get worked to death, and not likely to be missed. Not at the 9 o'clock service? Well they probably went to the 11 o'clock. Or the Saturday Night. It's easy to go to church and not see a single person you know! Oh the FREEDOM! Ha ha.
 I did teach Sunday School and was involved in a home bible study and Women's Ministry group at the mega-church, so I know if you put in a bit of effort you won't get lost or over-looked. I am not critical of big churches, because their bigness almost always means they were doing something right, something needed, and were blessed with the huge responsibility to care for those who came.  

The Good Stuff

The church was where I heard about Jesus and how God sent Him to take my place, to pay for sin. I heard about the cross and how He was willing to sacrifice it all, His very life, so I could live in freedom and hope. At the age of 5 I understood what I needed to understand, and I told God that I believed Him and thanked Him. And so I started my pilgrim's progress there, upstairs in a cold, too-brightly-lit Sunday School room.
 
The church pulpit, a monstrous wooden thing, is what I stood behind when I read from my Bible these words, "Yet I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I have committed to Him until that Day".  I was shaking with nerves; it was the day of my baptism and I was 12 years old.
 
The stage is where I stood to sing my first solo, "Jesus, Name Above All Names", when I was 9.
 
I took lessons at the piano as a teenager, puzzling out the intricacies of hymn harmonies and chord progressions. (It's a puzzle I've never exactly put together. Why change chords for every syllable?) Later as a young adult I brought choruses from far and wide and introduced them at that same piano.
 
I could go on and on. It's special stuff, life-changing and important, and I remember. I honor the loving and caring people who looked after me in Sunday school and Jr. church, who gave me a Kleenex for my runny nose and sacrificed their time and energy. Perhaps they too, were wondering about why they were there. Or their mind miles away, thinking about what they would rather be doing.
 
In my personal disappointments with church I do not want to show disrespect to those who served me or those I am serving now.

 

So What?

This church actually sounds pretty good! What's not to love?
 
It is healthy to have some honesty. You can temper it with kindness, but just say it. Is church a safe place to be yourself? Can you actually say a real and honest sentence to anyone there? If you can, then that is great. I do not doubt that there are people who truly love going to church, they do feel like themselves there, and it is the highlight of their week. I haven't experienced joy in church for a long time myself, but I know it's out there.
 
But if not, when are the layers going to peel back? If we immerse ourselves farther and farther into programs and "getting things done" and never ask (or listen to) some hard questions, I think death by drowning is inevitable. The next generation will be dealing with our bloated spiritual corpses. Or we'll be dealing with theirs.
 
If you have a real problem, would you go to your local church for help?
 
Why not?
 
For some former church-goers and others, the wounds are too deep. They can't be wrapped in phrases, verses, or even good arguments from a blog. Your pain is real and you feel it like a slap even driving by a church. Layers of disgust and mistrust wall in your heart, a concrete barrier that would involve some demolition to break through. Church is the very LAST place you would go if and when your world falls apart.
 
What if a few of those I just mentioned are sitting in the pew? Sitting there in body, standing for the songs, but so far away...
 
What do we do with that? Do we provide the space to feel? To ask an unanswerable question, raw with implication?
 
I'm thinking out loud. I don't know exactly how to change it.  
Except for that saying about doing things the same way and expecting different results...new isn't always better, but it could be a start.
 
What are you going to do with your hard questions?
I'll tell you what I did. I stuffed them away so far and deep down I thought they'd never have the nerve to surface. And they leaked out over the years, poisoning me, toxifying my soul and hardening my heart.
 Don't do that; it's so destructive to everything you love or will love. Find someone you can be true with. Tell that safe person what you really think.
 
Do you think God is not leading and guiding you this very minute? His Spirit speaks. He draws us, loves us, puts seeds of hope into our minds and hearts, counsels us along paths that, though strange and foreign soil, are leading away from dark, shadowy hollows toward marvelous light. He knows shortcuts through and away from the enemies of our souls.
 
The church is not meant to feel like prison.The church is meant to be Love shown on earth, an open doorway. A place of peace and truth. Where the lost are found and the wounded can heal, and those with ice-cold hearts and concrete walls begin to feel.