I left the church officially 6 years ago. My exit happened fast and first. My man was a little confused. A little hurt. I just could not stomach another "worship service". I could not face putting my children in another bible class where afterwards I would feel the need to debrief them to see if they had been taught any lies about my Lord and His love for them. I just quit.
My man kept going. He faced the looks. He became the spouse that is to be pitied because their significant other has tanked. He wondered why I could not just go and only pretend to listen. I couldn't. Not if he wanted a sane wife.
So it came to this...I could go and just shut down my heart. No discussions about the things that bothered me. No family debrief at the lunch table. Just get my butt in the seat.
I felt that if I did this I would soon be a powder keg one hallelujah away from standing up in the middle of church and exploding years of pent up angst all over those believers.
Maybe I should have done just that.
My husband decided that he would like to keep the spark in my eyes. I honestly do not know if I convinced him to quit going. I didn't try to. He had been raised to believe that you had to go to church. You had to. If you wanted to be a Christian you had to go to church. I was raised that way too. I had long ago faced down the thought that this thing we called church could not possibly be what was meant. My man was not convinced. But eventually he quit too.
We were done.
We actually thought we would go on to another church body. We waited for the Lord to direct us. Every Sunday that passed seemed stranger...and more comfortable.
People, I don't feel like I have words to make you understand. You probably wont.
Unless you just do.
Being out of church is the hardest and best thing I have ever experienced.
Sometimes I miss it terribly. It was all I have ever known. Security. This is what we do. We go to church.
I have already talked about how I didn't go to church for years. But that was slinking around sowing my wild oats don't let daddy find out skipping church.
This.
Deep breath.
This was/is grown up choosing to be absent from the gathering of the body of believers.
This is forsaking the assembly people!
I feel free. Free-er to love and be loved. Free to be me. Unchained.
I like me better here. I used to bust against those chains. Trying either to break free or to gather enough sustenance to live within their constraints. Neither was possible.
I was not meant to live in chains.
When I first got out I felt bad. Dirty. Wrong.
But it felt delicious also. There was this warm delightful feeling that began to creep in. I have written much about it. It is a feeling of true love.
Not obligation. Not should have. Not if only.
It is that thing that I know on one level with my mate. I look into his eyes and in that moment nothing else matters. I am here with you. That is all. That is so not all.
I know that not all of you have that feeling with a mate. But you know it. You know when you get in a moment with someone and everything else just goes away. It is that.
These words fail miserably.
I could hardly ever get to that place while I was bound to "church". I had everybody and their ideas and interpretations so heavy on my heart that I could not look up. Life was too treacherous. Too many ways to screw it up. Too many ways to fail. Sure there was grace and all that but I could not understand. the scriptures as I had been taught them did not make sense.
Grace and mercy seemed only available when I had done everything I could do to live by the rules and had fallen short.
The trouble with that...I was really really super good at following the rules. I followed all the rules and they did not ease the desperation in my heart for something I could actually feel.
They did not make me love Him. They certainly did not convince me that He loved me.
All I could see was another and another and another way to suck so that He could swoop in and make it all better.
I am not saying that this is the same for you. This is how it was for me. Hear me!
When I got away from everybody else's truth, God's truth for me had room to grow in my heart.
I could see it and feel it. For the first time.
I could make use of it in my life. Applicable to living. Not just for going to heaven.
There had been moments of this before. But they always ended hours after the last conference session. I learned the difference between living under an "open heaven" and the rest of the time when I was obviously needing to "be filled". I learned over time to push really hard for "breakthrough". But really all I felt was constipated and I just went around birthing turds all day. I was a mess. Demons around every corner. Satan out to stop God's good and perfect will for me.
I became quite adept at emasculating the Creator of the Universe every time I went to battle for him.
But it felt so good in those juicy little moments of complete heavenly immersion. Glory.
Glory covered by rules. Recipes for success. Methods lined out to get to that next level.
More rules.
They are gone too. And that is hard. I lost the rules that protected me. and the power that empowered me. All I have left is vulnerability and weakness.
And that is where He finds me. That is where He loves me.
I don't have to be strong or good.
Maybe some people find that in church. Some people don't need to find that, I am sure.
I can't go on hating church. It is what it is. but it is not good for me. I think that I am not alone in this.
God can handle His church. He will call some to be loud for reform. Others He will lead out to do other things.
Heretical things that go against everything they have been taught about being good and right.
This is not new.
What I am learning right now...
-if I want to live in freedom, I need to let others live there too. I have to let them be free to live in bondage if they want to...or need to.
-my truth is not necessarily going to match your truth. This does not mean it is not truth.
Remember the story about the five blind men that had to describe an elephant based on the part each man could feel with his hands. Each man came up with a completely different description of that elephant. All were right. And all were wrong.
-God can be unchanging without interacting the same with everyone. It is stupidity (in my opinion) to think that the way God blesses me will work the same for you if you just walk the right walk or pray the right prayer or cast the right spell. (yes...I went there )
My husband would go to jail if he interacted with my children the same way that he interacts with me. But he is not changing who he is or being ingenuine to treat each of us differently.
I believe, with my whole heart, that God can guide guard and direct two of us in two completely opposite directions based on the exact same scripture or vision or leading. And they both be right.
-I believe that God has most definitely NOT left those shriveled up little churches that all the progressive Holy Spirit mighty wind-ers have declared dead. God is there. And He is working. And we need to shut up about things we know nothing about.
Me, most definitely, included.
You know this is not all. It can't be.
Please ask me more. Are you scared for me? Did I leave you hanging in that one part? This was hard to get out. So much. It is a big story.
I hope you are one that needs to know that you are not alone. You are not alone! You are not crazy and you are not going to be picked off by the enemy like a lone little sheep. Your Papa has got this! He has not left you...in church or out.
love you
Showing posts with label angst. Show all posts
Showing posts with label angst. Show all posts
12.04.2013
4.01.2013
have a little choc'lit Jesus
I am participating in a drawing challenge this month. One drawing per day.
So, for the next 30 days you will have the opportunity to be both amazed at my word wit AND awed by my artistic prowess...at the same time!
I know.
It is almost too good to be true.
Today we start with Muppet.
My drawing challenge co-participant/ leader has defined it as: those characters from Sesame Street...or the Muppet Show...or there bouts. (paraphrase mine)
People in animal costume? I say yes.
At first I panicked thinking I could not meet the challenge. Then I relaxed when I remembered that I already had a drawing prepared.
Technically that is cheating. But who's to know, right?
I call this...
Just a little choc'lit Jesus*
It pretty much sums up how I feel about Easter.
I do want to say here that this is in no way meant to insult or degrade Jesus and His resurrection. I am very much a believer in that.
This is just a picture commentary on new dresses, candied rabbit poo, babies shoving each other out of the way for prizes, and every dag-blamed plastic easter trinket I have had to pitch to the landfill.
I could talk about commercialization, pagan rituals, compartmentalizing our life with God, systematically poisoning our children through socially acceptable cult-style brainwashing, the evils of that psychedelic easter grass...
or we could just look at the picture and be horrified as satirical waves wash over us again and again and again.
One brilliant friend of mine described easter egg hunts as "hunger games for the kiddies".
(that would be a beautiful drawing in and of itself)
easter. just one more of those grin and bear it things that make me wish for a yurt.
*for those confused by the title "Just a little choc'lit Jesus"...
there is a song that they sing in the church of my youth.the words go like this...
Now let us have a little talk with Jesus
Let us tell him all about our troubles
He will hear our faintest cry
And he will answer by and by
When you feel a little painful yearning
and your heart unto heaven is turning
You can have a little talk with Jesus
Makes it right.
To a child...havin a little choc'lit Jesus sounds like THE best thing you could possibly imagine.
Plus, once you have heard the alternative lyrics, you can never, ever sing the song the correct way again.
Not every day of this challenge can be filled with such uplifting commentary. But I will try.
I know that excites you.
Join all my drawing comrades...for the next exciting episode of....
Our other participants: click their names to see their work
Niki Nowell
So, for the next 30 days you will have the opportunity to be both amazed at my word wit AND awed by my artistic prowess...at the same time!
I know.
It is almost too good to be true.
Today we start with Muppet.
My drawing challenge co-participant/ leader has defined it as: those characters from Sesame Street...or the Muppet Show...or there bouts. (paraphrase mine)
People in animal costume? I say yes.
At first I panicked thinking I could not meet the challenge. Then I relaxed when I remembered that I already had a drawing prepared.
Technically that is cheating. But who's to know, right?
I call this...
Just a little choc'lit Jesus*
It pretty much sums up how I feel about Easter.
I do want to say here that this is in no way meant to insult or degrade Jesus and His resurrection. I am very much a believer in that.
This is just a picture commentary on new dresses, candied rabbit poo, babies shoving each other out of the way for prizes, and every dag-blamed plastic easter trinket I have had to pitch to the landfill.
I could talk about commercialization, pagan rituals, compartmentalizing our life with God, systematically poisoning our children through socially acceptable cult-style brainwashing, the evils of that psychedelic easter grass...
or we could just look at the picture and be horrified as satirical waves wash over us again and again and again.
One brilliant friend of mine described easter egg hunts as "hunger games for the kiddies".
(that would be a beautiful drawing in and of itself)
easter. just one more of those grin and bear it things that make me wish for a yurt.
*for those confused by the title "Just a little choc'lit Jesus"...
there is a song that they sing in the church of my youth.the words go like this...
Now let us have a little talk with Jesus
Let us tell him all about our troubles
He will hear our faintest cry
And he will answer by and by
When you feel a little painful yearning
and your heart unto heaven is turning
You can have a little talk with Jesus
Makes it right.
To a child...havin a little choc'lit Jesus sounds like THE best thing you could possibly imagine.
Plus, once you have heard the alternative lyrics, you can never, ever sing the song the correct way again.
Not every day of this challenge can be filled with such uplifting commentary. But I will try.
I know that excites you.
Join all my drawing comrades...for the next exciting episode of....
Our other participants: click their names to see their work
Don Hillson
Niki Nowell
Bill Davis
GirlyGeeky
Free2B2Much
Notes From The Backseat
Marilyn Quinsaat [posting on Facebook]
Kimmy Haines [posting on Facebook]
Karen Haines (no url provided; will update)
See you tomorrow!!
3.30.2013
Peace out.
I think I might throw up before this is all said and done.
You know that sweaty hands, shakey in the mid-section, air too thin to breathe place...that's me.
I feel this way because I am about to tell you what I really think.
And I am going to try to do it without any snark.
I might hurt myself.
I have been so distressed by so many things in life lately. Most of the distress comes from facebook. that seems shallow but it is what it is. Facebook is my connection to the outside world. If I get off of facebook I have my sweet little family. They do not distress me.
I orchestrate my life to be as stress free as possible. I do not watch the news. I do not have tv. I do not follow the trending links on my computer. I live in a quiet little neighborhood where I know all my neighbors by name. the clerks in the stores know my name because I have a set routine and I almost never wander from it. I am a creature of habit and I crave peace.
I do not live in such a way that you would think that I was anything other than the most mousey, complacent, Jesus loving, mini-van driving, homeschooling mommy. I wear long skirts and birkenstocks, people.. I have no tattoos.
My cuss words up until a few months ago consisted of crap, and gosh.
(I am learning to use the word ass...as in big ass...dumb ass...asinine...)
You think I am being snarky but I am dead on serious.
this is my outside. My insides bubble a little hotter.
Inside, I am a stick it to the man, go against the status quo, rage against the storm, hippy.
If society welcomes it then I will most assuredly suspect it as a matter of principle.
I am cynical.
I am short tempered toward anyone or anything that displays a sheep mentality.
I am arrogant and prejudiced against individuals who refuse to think for themselves.
I judge.
but I probably won't show you these things unless you walk closely enough with me to see that I raise my right eyebrow a tiny bit and my pupils blow out when I get angry.
(my husband told me this...I thought I had it hidden)
I would probably tell you that in general I don't like people. As in plural. People. Groups. But I do like people. Persons. Individuals. There is this thing in my heart that loves to hear a person with their story. It affects me. they affect me. So much so that my heart will melt and I can slide into a depression over their pain. I actually have to guard my heart against this.
Unless... unless that person and their pain is treading on someone else. then I tend to go with the underdog. If i find that you are messing with someone and being mean,
well I will think about sticking my foot so far up your a......you get my drift.
So this distress on Facebook...it comes from my friends. I have spent my life in the circles of conservative, evangelical, American, chirstians. my friends...yes, they are mostly church going, bible thumping, Jesus defending pains in the... neck.
(you can see why I am learning to use the word ass...just so many applications)
Again..no snark intended.
My friends have been very vocal about the issue of gay marriage. they have made no bones about speaking for God and making sure that everyone knows how He feels about those gays getting married. I don't mind them having their opinions. Truly. It is actually quite safe for that christian group to call out the sin of that gay group. I don't really like groups anyway so have at it. Even if it bothered me a little bit I could just not think about it too much and let it pass on by.
But then something began to nag at my heart.
As people started talking more about this issue, especially about the similar issue and decision to let gay members into the boy scout organization it started to come closer and closer to home.
My home.
My children running around as my mom friends talked about this horrible ungodly state of society.
My children listening with their super power hearing as the words and feelings flung hate and intolerance around the playroom.
My children assuming that I felt like that too because I didn't say anything.
It began to nag my heart that I was teaching by example and the example I was setting was one of tolerance for injustice.
If I am going to teach tolerance...it ain't gonna be centered around keeping my peace while people get trampled in the self-righteous dust from the journeys of a thousand ignorant proof-texters.
Nothing in that sentence was loving. Or tolerant.
I honestly feel that if you think that you have a right to keep the gay community in its place by labeling them with very biblical names like sinner and fornicator you might as well take up using the word nigger.
Take that any direction you want.
I started looking at my children and wondering what would change for me if one of them grew up and told me he was gay. What would happen to my heart if one of my precious children came to me in fear and loathing because he was terrified to tell me about something he had been burdened with since he was big enough to realize that he did not fit in with his brothers. What if my words and actions laid down a foundation of hate that kept my child, the love of my life, in a place of anguish because he knew that my principles could not allow us to fellowship in heart even tho I said "I love you" every day.
I think that I decided right then to change my behavior. I decided to stop looking at this group, and start looking at individuals. when I did that my heart began to break.
I realized that not speaking but letting the vocal majority have their say was the same, in the hearts of my children, as my agreement.
As a grownup I know that silence is not always consent...but to a kid...it is the same.
I realized that my silence was actually telling my children, that finger pointing christian position is ok. It is right. I agree.
Sometimes, you need to speak up.
I have friends that are gay. to my knowledge none of them are wanting to get married. but I guarantee you that their christian walk will get easier the minute christianity as a whole (or enough individuals that love completely) can look at them with the same respect they give that elder who recently "confessed" his porn addiction.
And this is a big stupid ass-umption on my part because I just lumped them in with all the detestable sexually impure...and that is really really offensive to many of my friends. I am sorry for that.
My point is respect. Looking at people and seeing their worth. Not their sin...real or perceived.
christians have genuine fear about opening a pandora's box if we let gay people get married. I think that if you want to go with that fear you need to accept that we started that release of mischief the moment we condoned interracial marriage. I am sure there were very sincere individuals that thought such things would surely lead to the degradation of the nation. We do have a black president now. One thing leads to another. I am positive that giving equal rights led to the position we are in today.
I see how this makes people feel very very afraid.
If we give equality to the gay people we are in fact starting down a road where more and more things will be accepted as a normal part of life.
Yes, that is called social evolution. We progress. We move on. Not all the next things are positive, but we can and should deal with those as they come up instead of crying like a bunch of babies about the sharks in the water...there are bridges...and boats to be had for this crossing.
I have heard arguements about how this could lead to child endangerment. Sex with animals. Polygamy. Muslem domination.
Like that isn't happening already??
I think I have talked ad nauseum about if this is sin or not. My stance...it. just. doesnt. matter. It doesnt matter what I think about it. I need to see my married gay neighbors as neighbors. I need to see them as persons to be respected.
I might need to face my upbringing and tell it simmer down.
what is the alternative? Get as christian uppity as you want...the reality is that the gay lifestyle will be soon be accepted as a "normal" part of American society. You can either avert your eyes and cover your innocent children as you mumble things about detestable to God or you can learn to look in love at two people showing affection.
Stone me now.
I am not talking about anything perverse. Just a kiss...or a hug...you don't have to see that as disgusting no matter how you feel about what is happening in the privacy of their home.
Feel free to teach your children right and wrong as you see it. But you cannot continue to go through life trying not to throw up around people who do things you disagree with.
Let me try and come at this from a different direction. A very personal direction.
I have women in my life that live together as roommates. they are heterosexual. Not gay. they love each other immensely. Sisters. Sometimes people think they are gay.
There is no sex going on!
do I want society, and the church, to look down on my friends because they think they are gay?
Actually, society probably accepts them without much question except to wish they would just come out already.
they are not gay.
there are probably those in the church that pray for them in their gayness.
Now, for this next part, let's pretend that my friends are gay.
Let's take these two friends who have lived together for longer than many of my heterosexual friends have been married...lets say that one of them gets sick...the other one wants to be able to know about her friends condition but she cannot because she is not the "spouse".
Or, one friend wants to give a large sum of money to the other. the other one will be heavily taxed on this gift...but not if they are married.
Just a stupid thought...I think that legally you should be able to declare anyone as your "significant other" to recieve all the benefits of a spouse.
If you even begin to whine about commitments and mocking the marriage system I will most certainly shove the divorce statistics right up your a....
As far as these women getting respect from the christian community, I don't know why they would even care any more. But let's say they do care deeply. they love Jesus. they do not think that their committed relationship is wrong in His eyes. they want to live in peace. together. and in their community.
I think that the church has every right to judge them and hold them accountable to every word of the bible.
As soon as the preacher looses 50lbs. And the nursery ladies stop gossiping. And the home groups stop hosting margarita night. And the deacons stop lying about when that church picnic will be rescheduled. And has anyone see our headscarves...cuz really.
Ok..that might have been snarky.
Until everyone in the church is ready to get real with their schniggt there should be no more telling each other what God wants.
Unless, you can do it in love. On an individual basis. when they ask if you would speak into their lives.
Otherwise...shut it.
I am afraid of 1 Corinthians. Paul talks about turning people over to satan. That scares me.
but you know what...I think that maybe Paul was full of it.
Snark that is.
I think that he was very very very tired of listing out the sins. I think he talks to these folks like a frustrated father and says..."I already told you this, why can't you deal with it?"
He talks about sexual immorality. And he lists it with a lot of other things. And he says the mysterious thing...he tells them to turn that stinky sinner over to the devil and let God judge him.
Seems harsh. Again...I suspect he was being a little snarky in his sincerity. that poor sinner was better off being put out than living within the bounds of the church and their righteous judgement.
I KNOW that is going to rile you and I am ok with that.
All I am saying is that we don't understand. And until we do, we might want to be a little more quiet.
I know I have not begun to cover all the points in this issue. I really just wanted to talk about a few that get me riled up. I hope that you see that I am giant enormous bag of wind. I don't have it all figured out.
I just want you to think about some things with me. Don't follow me cuz I am so cool.
No more herd mentality.
Just allow my questions to spark some of your own.
I can only hope that I have NOT somehow managed to offend everyone on the planet.
Peace on you.
You know that sweaty hands, shakey in the mid-section, air too thin to breathe place...that's me.
I feel this way because I am about to tell you what I really think.
And I am going to try to do it without any snark.
I might hurt myself.
I have been so distressed by so many things in life lately. Most of the distress comes from facebook. that seems shallow but it is what it is. Facebook is my connection to the outside world. If I get off of facebook I have my sweet little family. They do not distress me.
I orchestrate my life to be as stress free as possible. I do not watch the news. I do not have tv. I do not follow the trending links on my computer. I live in a quiet little neighborhood where I know all my neighbors by name. the clerks in the stores know my name because I have a set routine and I almost never wander from it. I am a creature of habit and I crave peace.
I do not live in such a way that you would think that I was anything other than the most mousey, complacent, Jesus loving, mini-van driving, homeschooling mommy. I wear long skirts and birkenstocks, people.. I have no tattoos.
My cuss words up until a few months ago consisted of crap, and gosh.
(I am learning to use the word ass...as in big ass...dumb ass...asinine...)
You think I am being snarky but I am dead on serious.
this is my outside. My insides bubble a little hotter.
Inside, I am a stick it to the man, go against the status quo, rage against the storm, hippy.
If society welcomes it then I will most assuredly suspect it as a matter of principle.
I am cynical.
I am short tempered toward anyone or anything that displays a sheep mentality.
I am arrogant and prejudiced against individuals who refuse to think for themselves.
I judge.
but I probably won't show you these things unless you walk closely enough with me to see that I raise my right eyebrow a tiny bit and my pupils blow out when I get angry.
(my husband told me this...I thought I had it hidden)
I would probably tell you that in general I don't like people. As in plural. People. Groups. But I do like people. Persons. Individuals. There is this thing in my heart that loves to hear a person with their story. It affects me. they affect me. So much so that my heart will melt and I can slide into a depression over their pain. I actually have to guard my heart against this.
Unless... unless that person and their pain is treading on someone else. then I tend to go with the underdog. If i find that you are messing with someone and being mean,
well I will think about sticking my foot so far up your a......you get my drift.
So this distress on Facebook...it comes from my friends. I have spent my life in the circles of conservative, evangelical, American, chirstians. my friends...yes, they are mostly church going, bible thumping, Jesus defending pains in the... neck.
(you can see why I am learning to use the word ass...just so many applications)
Again..no snark intended.
My friends have been very vocal about the issue of gay marriage. they have made no bones about speaking for God and making sure that everyone knows how He feels about those gays getting married. I don't mind them having their opinions. Truly. It is actually quite safe for that christian group to call out the sin of that gay group. I don't really like groups anyway so have at it. Even if it bothered me a little bit I could just not think about it too much and let it pass on by.
But then something began to nag at my heart.
As people started talking more about this issue, especially about the similar issue and decision to let gay members into the boy scout organization it started to come closer and closer to home.
My home.
My children running around as my mom friends talked about this horrible ungodly state of society.
My children listening with their super power hearing as the words and feelings flung hate and intolerance around the playroom.
My children assuming that I felt like that too because I didn't say anything.
It began to nag my heart that I was teaching by example and the example I was setting was one of tolerance for injustice.
If I am going to teach tolerance...it ain't gonna be centered around keeping my peace while people get trampled in the self-righteous dust from the journeys of a thousand ignorant proof-texters.
Nothing in that sentence was loving. Or tolerant.
I honestly feel that if you think that you have a right to keep the gay community in its place by labeling them with very biblical names like sinner and fornicator you might as well take up using the word nigger.
Take that any direction you want.
I started looking at my children and wondering what would change for me if one of them grew up and told me he was gay. What would happen to my heart if one of my precious children came to me in fear and loathing because he was terrified to tell me about something he had been burdened with since he was big enough to realize that he did not fit in with his brothers. What if my words and actions laid down a foundation of hate that kept my child, the love of my life, in a place of anguish because he knew that my principles could not allow us to fellowship in heart even tho I said "I love you" every day.
I think that I decided right then to change my behavior. I decided to stop looking at this group, and start looking at individuals. when I did that my heart began to break.
I realized that not speaking but letting the vocal majority have their say was the same, in the hearts of my children, as my agreement.
As a grownup I know that silence is not always consent...but to a kid...it is the same.
I realized that my silence was actually telling my children, that finger pointing christian position is ok. It is right. I agree.
Sometimes, you need to speak up.
I have friends that are gay. to my knowledge none of them are wanting to get married. but I guarantee you that their christian walk will get easier the minute christianity as a whole (or enough individuals that love completely) can look at them with the same respect they give that elder who recently "confessed" his porn addiction.
And this is a big stupid ass-umption on my part because I just lumped them in with all the detestable sexually impure...and that is really really offensive to many of my friends. I am sorry for that.
My point is respect. Looking at people and seeing their worth. Not their sin...real or perceived.
christians have genuine fear about opening a pandora's box if we let gay people get married. I think that if you want to go with that fear you need to accept that we started that release of mischief the moment we condoned interracial marriage. I am sure there were very sincere individuals that thought such things would surely lead to the degradation of the nation. We do have a black president now. One thing leads to another. I am positive that giving equal rights led to the position we are in today.
I see how this makes people feel very very afraid.
If we give equality to the gay people we are in fact starting down a road where more and more things will be accepted as a normal part of life.
Yes, that is called social evolution. We progress. We move on. Not all the next things are positive, but we can and should deal with those as they come up instead of crying like a bunch of babies about the sharks in the water...there are bridges...and boats to be had for this crossing.
I have heard arguements about how this could lead to child endangerment. Sex with animals. Polygamy. Muslem domination.
Like that isn't happening already??
I think I have talked ad nauseum about if this is sin or not. My stance...it. just. doesnt. matter. It doesnt matter what I think about it. I need to see my married gay neighbors as neighbors. I need to see them as persons to be respected.
I might need to face my upbringing and tell it simmer down.
what is the alternative? Get as christian uppity as you want...the reality is that the gay lifestyle will be soon be accepted as a "normal" part of American society. You can either avert your eyes and cover your innocent children as you mumble things about detestable to God or you can learn to look in love at two people showing affection.
Stone me now.
I am not talking about anything perverse. Just a kiss...or a hug...you don't have to see that as disgusting no matter how you feel about what is happening in the privacy of their home.
Feel free to teach your children right and wrong as you see it. But you cannot continue to go through life trying not to throw up around people who do things you disagree with.
Let me try and come at this from a different direction. A very personal direction.
I have women in my life that live together as roommates. they are heterosexual. Not gay. they love each other immensely. Sisters. Sometimes people think they are gay.
There is no sex going on!
do I want society, and the church, to look down on my friends because they think they are gay?
Actually, society probably accepts them without much question except to wish they would just come out already.
they are not gay.
there are probably those in the church that pray for them in their gayness.
Now, for this next part, let's pretend that my friends are gay.
Let's take these two friends who have lived together for longer than many of my heterosexual friends have been married...lets say that one of them gets sick...the other one wants to be able to know about her friends condition but she cannot because she is not the "spouse".
Or, one friend wants to give a large sum of money to the other. the other one will be heavily taxed on this gift...but not if they are married.
Just a stupid thought...I think that legally you should be able to declare anyone as your "significant other" to recieve all the benefits of a spouse.
If you even begin to whine about commitments and mocking the marriage system I will most certainly shove the divorce statistics right up your a....
As far as these women getting respect from the christian community, I don't know why they would even care any more. But let's say they do care deeply. they love Jesus. they do not think that their committed relationship is wrong in His eyes. they want to live in peace. together. and in their community.
I think that the church has every right to judge them and hold them accountable to every word of the bible.
As soon as the preacher looses 50lbs. And the nursery ladies stop gossiping. And the home groups stop hosting margarita night. And the deacons stop lying about when that church picnic will be rescheduled. And has anyone see our headscarves...cuz really.
Ok..that might have been snarky.
Until everyone in the church is ready to get real with their schniggt there should be no more telling each other what God wants.
Unless, you can do it in love. On an individual basis. when they ask if you would speak into their lives.
Otherwise...shut it.
I am afraid of 1 Corinthians. Paul talks about turning people over to satan. That scares me.
but you know what...I think that maybe Paul was full of it.
Snark that is.
I think that he was very very very tired of listing out the sins. I think he talks to these folks like a frustrated father and says..."I already told you this, why can't you deal with it?"
He talks about sexual immorality. And he lists it with a lot of other things. And he says the mysterious thing...he tells them to turn that stinky sinner over to the devil and let God judge him.
Seems harsh. Again...I suspect he was being a little snarky in his sincerity. that poor sinner was better off being put out than living within the bounds of the church and their righteous judgement.
I KNOW that is going to rile you and I am ok with that.
All I am saying is that we don't understand. And until we do, we might want to be a little more quiet.
I know I have not begun to cover all the points in this issue. I really just wanted to talk about a few that get me riled up. I hope that you see that I am giant enormous bag of wind. I don't have it all figured out.
I just want you to think about some things with me. Don't follow me cuz I am so cool.
No more herd mentality.
Just allow my questions to spark some of your own.
I can only hope that I have NOT somehow managed to offend everyone on the planet.
Peace on you.
3.27.2013
I love you. Period.
I think it should be enough to say "I love you", without having to add "but I don't approve of what you do".
I am continually amazed that the christian mentality seems to equate love with either pity or perfection. think about it...
You pity that person in sin. On a good day you love them in spite of it.
On a perfect day you love them out of it.
I think that Jesus loves them in it.
Now let's take it closer to home. Jesus doesn't just love them in it...He loves me in it.
We won't take time right now to discuss saint/sinner/redeemed. Let it be enough for this discussion to say that I do still sin. Therefore, I am a sinner. Redeemed, yes. But that is not my point right this minute.
Jesus loves me in my sin.
His love does not wait for me to change. He looks at me smack where I am and accepts me there.
In sin.
Without ever covering me up with how much of a screw up I am or how much he disapproves of me.
He doesn't talk to me that way. The scriptures that I have been taught to cherish don't read that way anymore....but they used to.
What changed?
I was raised to revere the bible as the Holy Scripture...the Holy Word of God...the only way that God spoke. All I needed for living was in that book. And believe me, it was full of rules and regulations about life. The life instruction book. That is how christians see it. ok that is fine.
Trouble is, in my experience, once you have a written set of rules/instructions you tend to get busy telling other people how to go about things. You figure that you have the authority to go messin in other people's lives. You poke your nose in. In their best interest of course.
In love.
Problem with that is that it is none of your business. It is God's business.
At some point, and Glory to God Hallelujah! I realized that it is not my job to change people. Not my job even when I love them dearly and want them to change. Not my job when they are bugging the crap out of me with their incessant sinning. Not my job when I am super right and they are dead wrong.
I can't think of a place where He told me to take the written word and go make sure that everyone is following it.
Let's look at this another way. If you put aside the written scripture for a minute what do you have left? Could you exist without it?
Do you trust the Holy Spirit of God enough to instruct you if you had no access to the written word?
We do it every day you know. We who have been raised in the church, who know those scriptures by heart, we walk without it all the time. We misquote it, manipulate it to fit our personal preference, disregard entire sections... How do we survive?
Well, mostly we walk around with our heads hung low as we wallow in muck and feel the disapproval of God. Just a bunch of screw ups. Unworthy.
The scripture we know has been drilled into us and set around us as a barbed wire fence. Stay inside.
Death beyond these lines. Here be monsters.
We walk afraid.
Our security feels sketchy at best because we continually look for breaks in the fence. Even in the moments that we feel secure we terrorize others with messages of death.
Don't do that or you will die! Be afraid!
Yet in the scriptures that we have been taught to revere, we see the messages about freedom, and easy burdens, and light and good news.
Why do these get so convoluted with the how to's and what for's?
How does freedom become a death threat?
Even in the places in scripture where there is instruction, it is continually wrapped up in bow of good news.
These men were dealing with some hard stinky human fallacy yet they repeatedly told people to remember that their reward was waiting. They told people to hold on and to rejoice. They encouraged people walk in the freedom that had already been bought and paid for them. For their future. For their now.
Still, we christians take these words and use them to illustrate our depravity.
Love waiting for us to get it all together. Here is how to do it, so do it, moron. Jesus loves you, it's not brain surgery, why can't you get it right?
We talk about grace sometimes. Sometimes we even mean it. Still, hurdling that fence...only the bravest will even try it.
I want to realize each day the newness of God loving me right where I am.
Even when I am testing His mercy and dancing way outside the borders of the barbed wire.
Especially when I believe more than anything that His love depends on that fence...and my staying safely inside.
The words "I love you, but" were never uttered by God.
I put to you today the challenge to love. Period. And I ain't gonna lie to you...it is gonna suck. Hurt bad. Exquisite pain in the name of Jesus.
It is going to rip your heart in two to have to love someone in their sin.
Just forget the words condone and approve.
Love.
Trust God...who defines Himself as Love... to do all the work that your "not condoning" can't get done.
Trust Love to rush in and bind and heal and restore all the places that you don't approve of.
Believe that it is enough to Love God and Love others as you love yourself. (yeah, that is the tricky part)
Here is some instruction for you...stop telling everybody what to do, or not do.
(you see the irony here don't you)
I can only speak for my journey. All the places where I said "christians", and "you" and "them"...I meant me.
I am talking to myself here but you can listen in.
Actually, the following words are not me...they come from my Love.
I love you. Period.
I am continually amazed that the christian mentality seems to equate love with either pity or perfection. think about it...
You pity that person in sin. On a good day you love them in spite of it.
On a perfect day you love them out of it.
I think that Jesus loves them in it.
Now let's take it closer to home. Jesus doesn't just love them in it...He loves me in it.
We won't take time right now to discuss saint/sinner/redeemed. Let it be enough for this discussion to say that I do still sin. Therefore, I am a sinner. Redeemed, yes. But that is not my point right this minute.
Jesus loves me in my sin.
His love does not wait for me to change. He looks at me smack where I am and accepts me there.
In sin.
Without ever covering me up with how much of a screw up I am or how much he disapproves of me.
He doesn't talk to me that way. The scriptures that I have been taught to cherish don't read that way anymore....but they used to.
What changed?
I was raised to revere the bible as the Holy Scripture...the Holy Word of God...the only way that God spoke. All I needed for living was in that book. And believe me, it was full of rules and regulations about life. The life instruction book. That is how christians see it. ok that is fine.
Trouble is, in my experience, once you have a written set of rules/instructions you tend to get busy telling other people how to go about things. You figure that you have the authority to go messin in other people's lives. You poke your nose in. In their best interest of course.
In love.
Problem with that is that it is none of your business. It is God's business.
At some point, and Glory to God Hallelujah! I realized that it is not my job to change people. Not my job even when I love them dearly and want them to change. Not my job when they are bugging the crap out of me with their incessant sinning. Not my job when I am super right and they are dead wrong.
I can't think of a place where He told me to take the written word and go make sure that everyone is following it.
Let's look at this another way. If you put aside the written scripture for a minute what do you have left? Could you exist without it?
Do you trust the Holy Spirit of God enough to instruct you if you had no access to the written word?
We do it every day you know. We who have been raised in the church, who know those scriptures by heart, we walk without it all the time. We misquote it, manipulate it to fit our personal preference, disregard entire sections... How do we survive?
Well, mostly we walk around with our heads hung low as we wallow in muck and feel the disapproval of God. Just a bunch of screw ups. Unworthy.
The scripture we know has been drilled into us and set around us as a barbed wire fence. Stay inside.
Death beyond these lines. Here be monsters.
We walk afraid.
Our security feels sketchy at best because we continually look for breaks in the fence. Even in the moments that we feel secure we terrorize others with messages of death.
Don't do that or you will die! Be afraid!
Yet in the scriptures that we have been taught to revere, we see the messages about freedom, and easy burdens, and light and good news.
Why do these get so convoluted with the how to's and what for's?
How does freedom become a death threat?
Even in the places in scripture where there is instruction, it is continually wrapped up in bow of good news.
These men were dealing with some hard stinky human fallacy yet they repeatedly told people to remember that their reward was waiting. They told people to hold on and to rejoice. They encouraged people walk in the freedom that had already been bought and paid for them. For their future. For their now.
Still, we christians take these words and use them to illustrate our depravity.
Love waiting for us to get it all together. Here is how to do it, so do it, moron. Jesus loves you, it's not brain surgery, why can't you get it right?
We talk about grace sometimes. Sometimes we even mean it. Still, hurdling that fence...only the bravest will even try it.
I want to realize each day the newness of God loving me right where I am.
Even when I am testing His mercy and dancing way outside the borders of the barbed wire.
Especially when I believe more than anything that His love depends on that fence...and my staying safely inside.
The words "I love you, but" were never uttered by God.
I put to you today the challenge to love. Period. And I ain't gonna lie to you...it is gonna suck. Hurt bad. Exquisite pain in the name of Jesus.
It is going to rip your heart in two to have to love someone in their sin.
Just forget the words condone and approve.
Love.
Trust God...who defines Himself as Love... to do all the work that your "not condoning" can't get done.
Trust Love to rush in and bind and heal and restore all the places that you don't approve of.
Believe that it is enough to Love God and Love others as you love yourself. (yeah, that is the tricky part)
Here is some instruction for you...stop telling everybody what to do, or not do.
(you see the irony here don't you)
I can only speak for my journey. All the places where I said "christians", and "you" and "them"...I meant me.
I am talking to myself here but you can listen in.
Actually, the following words are not me...they come from my Love.
I love you. Period.
2.26.2013
hidden tiger, crouching dragon
Last time we talked it was something about surviving and/or thriving. I babbled a bit about the how's and why's of getting along with yourself and with others. Learning lessons. Hurting feelings. Standing up for yourself. It is still confusing to me, this tension between telling your truth and "being nice". What do you do when life isn't fair? What happens when you are being oppressed by the insensitivity of others? How do you proceed when what you need is going to tread on somebody else?
Let's get into it.
I have children. They interact. They get along mostly. Sometimes somebody gets punched or kicked or body slammed. We are not overly violent around here but we do get rowdy.
When it comes to the boys I tend to let them work things out. I believe in pack order. It helps you learn how to survive.
Sometimes tho, the warfare is psychological. That kinds usually hurts worse. Still, survival is a big deal.
Survival...
Just the other day I instructed a younger brother to thank his older brother for tricking him out of five bucks.
Story goes that big brother offered to pay whatever change he had in his room in return for little bro doing some chore. Something might or might not have been said about the possibility of there being five dollars in change.
Turned out that number was grossly exaggerated.
Nobody counted the change until the job was done. What are ya gonna do?
Parents were consulted. A fair settlement was sure to be had. Mom? Dad?
You gotta learn these hard lessons in life son. Be thankful that it was your brother that gave you this lesson in the dangers of being gullible (instead of some stranger on the street).
Right or wrong, that little brother now knows the term "show me the money" and he knows when to use it.
There was nothing fair about that. Not if you think we should have come to the rescue and made big bad brother cough up the dough.
Big brother got his lecture about kindness and honesty. But he also knows that we value his contribution in the raising of this family. We are well aware that his contribution might not always be on the up and up. He has his boundaries and he mostly stays within them although sometimes he does apply some creative restructuring to those lines. Sometimes a lesson learned the hard way is learned the best way.
Think about that what you will.
For the record, little brother did get to have his say. Speak his truth. "this really RIPS!" was hollered and whined throughout the evening.
And then it was over. But it will be remembered. He survived. I can't honestly say that his spirit was honored. But, would it have been an honor to have received his reward by bringing down his brother?
Was he better served in learning this lesson and growing stronger in the process? I think yes.
Now let's look at an if.
IF he had been stronger, faster, smarter (as in street smarts) he could have honored his own spirit and stood up for himself. He could have spoken up when he smelled the rat. He could have refused to do the work. He didn't. He didn't know any better. He had to learn. The hard way. I am glad it was his loving (cough, cough) brother that was there to teach him.
In our house we get many other loving lessons. Siblings are ready instructors. For instance, nobody can teach self defense like a brother. Mind you, self defense lessons look like torture to the untrained eye. (I am not gonna lie to you, self defense quickly turns to torture so beware) Keeping my parental wits about me is a struggle at times but well worth the effort when I see my youngers learn to slough off enemy attack and give it right back. I love those underdogs.
One underdog that sometimes needs help is the princess.
Baby sister can scrap with the best of them but there are times when she ends up on the wrong side of the dog pile. We try to watch out for that. Mom has declared a no pile zone where the bruiser brothers are concerned. They don't try to injure. They just can't help themselves. So, no piling on the princess. Still, if the odds are more evenly matched a wrestling match does occasionally occur with baby sister as the target. This is allowed, but closely monitored.
Standing rule at our house...say "stop" if you want them to stop. If they don't stop you have the right to use force to get them off you. Hitting, kicking, biting...whatever.
I feel very strongly about this. I want to equip my children, especially my girls, to be able to defend themselves forcefully if need be. It doesn't happen often but there have been a few times when somebody got hurt because they did not respond to the verbal "stop". Too bad for them.
Listen better next time. Another great lesson learned the hard way.
This method seems to work for us. Except for two specific instances.
One problem that seems to be popping up lately is that we forget to say "stop" before we pummel.
This almost never turns out good. The pummeler gets a lecture about giving a warning. The pummelee gets a lecture about sensitivity and learning to back off before it gets so serious. Nobody likes a lecture. Especially if you're the one who just got kicked in the shins.
We are still learning.
Another problem comes when someone says "stop" but they are laughing, or gasping for air, or some such thing in such a way as their "stop" cannot or will not be heard.
This is a serious issue.
How do you get your "stop" heard?
I think we all need lessons in this.
This brings me back to the beginning... How do you proceed when what you need is going to tread on somebody else?
I believe, and trust me, this is a new stance for me...I believe that you have to man up and go on ahead and tread.
Yell. Hurt some feelings. Punch somebody right in the nuggets.
Ouch.
Then sometimes you run. Get away and never come back.
But sometimes...oftentimes...more times than not, after knocking their block off physically or verbally you gather them up in a big hug.
Why?
Because more times than not, the perpetrator is your big brother that loves you more than sunshine. Sure, he is a big stinky jerk-wad that totally ignored your need. But that is the way it is in families.
Relationships...the best and closest ones...are rife with traumatic moments where you said stop and they didn't, couldn't or wouldn't hear you.
You need to stand up for yourself. It is ok to take up space. Your voice matters.
Say what you need to say and love them more than you want to kill them. It will smooth out.
I am not in any way addressing abuse situations here. Those are the ones where you punch and run.
No niceties necessary.
My message is for people that get so used to being dog piled that they forget they even have a voice. It is so easy to feel like the world and all your loved ones are dogging you to the point that you pummel first without warning...or you just remain "victim" because you can't seem to make your needs known.
You need to stop that.
You have my permission to stop being so nice.
No really.
Do you see the hidden tiger, crouching dragon response here? Be nice. Understated. Ladylike.
But take good care of your inner fierce. Do not starve it to death. Do not shame it into submission.
It is valuable to you to use your dragon breath and tiger claws to defend yourself and others.
It is good for you. Needful.
Caution is needed tho. Feed your fierce with love, not hate. Compassion and honor raise strong healthy warriors. Spite and frustration fuel venomous beasts.
Stand up. Speak up. Love up most of all. Don't wait any longer.
Tune in next week for lessons in not being hateful and spewing on people because you held it in too long.
Let's get into it.
I have children. They interact. They get along mostly. Sometimes somebody gets punched or kicked or body slammed. We are not overly violent around here but we do get rowdy.
When it comes to the boys I tend to let them work things out. I believe in pack order. It helps you learn how to survive.
Sometimes tho, the warfare is psychological. That kinds usually hurts worse. Still, survival is a big deal.
Survival...
Just the other day I instructed a younger brother to thank his older brother for tricking him out of five bucks.
Story goes that big brother offered to pay whatever change he had in his room in return for little bro doing some chore. Something might or might not have been said about the possibility of there being five dollars in change.
Turned out that number was grossly exaggerated.
Nobody counted the change until the job was done. What are ya gonna do?
Parents were consulted. A fair settlement was sure to be had. Mom? Dad?
You gotta learn these hard lessons in life son. Be thankful that it was your brother that gave you this lesson in the dangers of being gullible (instead of some stranger on the street).
Right or wrong, that little brother now knows the term "show me the money" and he knows when to use it.
There was nothing fair about that. Not if you think we should have come to the rescue and made big bad brother cough up the dough.
Big brother got his lecture about kindness and honesty. But he also knows that we value his contribution in the raising of this family. We are well aware that his contribution might not always be on the up and up. He has his boundaries and he mostly stays within them although sometimes he does apply some creative restructuring to those lines. Sometimes a lesson learned the hard way is learned the best way.
Think about that what you will.
For the record, little brother did get to have his say. Speak his truth. "this really RIPS!" was hollered and whined throughout the evening.
And then it was over. But it will be remembered. He survived. I can't honestly say that his spirit was honored. But, would it have been an honor to have received his reward by bringing down his brother?
Was he better served in learning this lesson and growing stronger in the process? I think yes.
Now let's look at an if.
IF he had been stronger, faster, smarter (as in street smarts) he could have honored his own spirit and stood up for himself. He could have spoken up when he smelled the rat. He could have refused to do the work. He didn't. He didn't know any better. He had to learn. The hard way. I am glad it was his loving (cough, cough) brother that was there to teach him.
In our house we get many other loving lessons. Siblings are ready instructors. For instance, nobody can teach self defense like a brother. Mind you, self defense lessons look like torture to the untrained eye. (I am not gonna lie to you, self defense quickly turns to torture so beware) Keeping my parental wits about me is a struggle at times but well worth the effort when I see my youngers learn to slough off enemy attack and give it right back. I love those underdogs.
One underdog that sometimes needs help is the princess.
Baby sister can scrap with the best of them but there are times when she ends up on the wrong side of the dog pile. We try to watch out for that. Mom has declared a no pile zone where the bruiser brothers are concerned. They don't try to injure. They just can't help themselves. So, no piling on the princess. Still, if the odds are more evenly matched a wrestling match does occasionally occur with baby sister as the target. This is allowed, but closely monitored.
Standing rule at our house...say "stop" if you want them to stop. If they don't stop you have the right to use force to get them off you. Hitting, kicking, biting...whatever.
I feel very strongly about this. I want to equip my children, especially my girls, to be able to defend themselves forcefully if need be. It doesn't happen often but there have been a few times when somebody got hurt because they did not respond to the verbal "stop". Too bad for them.
Listen better next time. Another great lesson learned the hard way.
This method seems to work for us. Except for two specific instances.
One problem that seems to be popping up lately is that we forget to say "stop" before we pummel.
This almost never turns out good. The pummeler gets a lecture about giving a warning. The pummelee gets a lecture about sensitivity and learning to back off before it gets so serious. Nobody likes a lecture. Especially if you're the one who just got kicked in the shins.
We are still learning.
Another problem comes when someone says "stop" but they are laughing, or gasping for air, or some such thing in such a way as their "stop" cannot or will not be heard.
This is a serious issue.
How do you get your "stop" heard?
I think we all need lessons in this.
This brings me back to the beginning... How do you proceed when what you need is going to tread on somebody else?
I believe, and trust me, this is a new stance for me...I believe that you have to man up and go on ahead and tread.
Yell. Hurt some feelings. Punch somebody right in the nuggets.
Ouch.
Then sometimes you run. Get away and never come back.
But sometimes...oftentimes...more times than not, after knocking their block off physically or verbally you gather them up in a big hug.
Why?
Because more times than not, the perpetrator is your big brother that loves you more than sunshine. Sure, he is a big stinky jerk-wad that totally ignored your need. But that is the way it is in families.
Relationships...the best and closest ones...are rife with traumatic moments where you said stop and they didn't, couldn't or wouldn't hear you.
You need to stand up for yourself. It is ok to take up space. Your voice matters.
Say what you need to say and love them more than you want to kill them. It will smooth out.
I am not in any way addressing abuse situations here. Those are the ones where you punch and run.
No niceties necessary.
My message is for people that get so used to being dog piled that they forget they even have a voice. It is so easy to feel like the world and all your loved ones are dogging you to the point that you pummel first without warning...or you just remain "victim" because you can't seem to make your needs known.
You need to stop that.
You have my permission to stop being so nice.
No really.
Do you see the hidden tiger, crouching dragon response here? Be nice. Understated. Ladylike.
But take good care of your inner fierce. Do not starve it to death. Do not shame it into submission.
It is valuable to you to use your dragon breath and tiger claws to defend yourself and others.
It is good for you. Needful.
Caution is needed tho. Feed your fierce with love, not hate. Compassion and honor raise strong healthy warriors. Spite and frustration fuel venomous beasts.
Stand up. Speak up. Love up most of all. Don't wait any longer.
Tune in next week for lessons in not being hateful and spewing on people because you held it in too long.
9.26.2012
spirit on hold
Sometimes you have to put aside your spirit and function in a way that is only glorious if you look at it in the light of survival.
I wrote this one day...because I felt it. I actually don't know if it makes sense. Nor do I really care. My heart knows. Sometimes that is all ya get.
I think a human spirit is a precious gift from God. It is the thing that makes breathing worthwhile.
It is that defining thing inside ones self that makes you, you. Youfully you.
It is not potential. It is not character. It is not characteristics or attributes or facets. It is not even personality. In fact, I think it is especially not personality.
Spirit is not about how you do things, or why you do things. It goes beyond genetics and environment.
Spirit is essence.
Spirit is that part of you that needs no reason. You don't have to defend its position.
Spirit just is. If you let it.
Spirit is a living thing that can be fed and nurtured and crushed. We set it free. We protect it.
We also abuse it. Or worse, deny it.
Spirit ignored is purely tragic.
Ignoring your spirit causes lifelong problems. Like ulcers. ask me how I know.
I honestly believe that many/most autoimmune diseases are the result of ignoring your spirit. Notice that I did not say all.
Bash me if you must, but it is what I think so nyah. (stick out tongue here)
I mean really, if you have a disorder where your body is turning on itself in an attempt to eradicate an intruder, and that intruder is one or more of the necessary organs in your body, you might be suffering from spirit suppression. Your body is smart. It knows that there is some imposter running around in your undershorts trying to convince the world that they are you. So it begins to send out the white cells to do some battle.
Ignoring who you really are is like declaring war on your own self. That is scary. And really not very smart.
I refuse to think that I am the only one doing such a stupid thing. Stupidity loves company. Admit it.
For me, ignoring my spirit starts with denying the fact that anything bothers me. I am a paragon of cool. Cucumber, baby.
At least this is what I show the world. This is the way that I survive. Not necessarily because my world is so big and bad, more like because I am big and bad and you must be protected from the viciousness of my spirit.
I have learned to ignore my spirit. Suppress it. Oppress it. Make it serve my will. My will being: protect the ones you love. Don't let it out. It could hurt someone. Ignore it and it will go away.
Being a person well versed in ignoring my spirit I feel like I can talk a little bit about how to do such a thing.
At the very least I can instruct you on how I go about it.
Take these instructions and reverse-psychologise them if you want to avoid some of my angst.
1. Pretend to not be bothered by things that are bothersome. Rise above it. Say to yourself that it doesn't matter. Tell yourself that it is not proper to be upset. Convince yourself that you are too mature to ...whatever. Look that bothersome booger in the face then duck your head and visualize it rolling off your back. quack.
2. If you find that you are still bothered, whisper under your breath that this is none of your business. You can only change you. Keep your eyes on your own paper. This is not your problem.
Advanced users only...pray about it. (interpret that as you will)
3. When you discover that this is, in fact, your problem refer back to 1. Repeat.
I think that about covers it.
You have had your first lesson. That was super easy!
But what does that have to do with your spirit? I don't know. I don't know about your spirit...only mine. That is the way it works. So, if you are interested I will tell you more about what this has to do with my spirit.
I have spent my life so far structuring my responses to reflect my even keel and unflappable disposition.
The more I was bothered by something the more I would restrict, constrict, constrain myself to the "proper" outlook and reply. I didn't do it on purpose. I did it because I was trained to. (self trained mostly, I am sure)
I got so christian with it that if I found myself shakingly upset I could absolutely taste the spiritual battle in the room and go after it full force without ever once realizing that it was my own knickers in a twist. Couldn't be me. I am way too easy going for that.
Now once in awhile the real me would surface. More like breaching actually. I would bust out with such vehemence that people would just blink at me. I would quickly realize my error and retreat in horror and self recrimination.
And here is another layer for you...my own vanity would rush to my aid, wiping the snot off my recrimination with a nice clean hanky of "you are better than that." I was assured that my normal controlled self would soon reappear and that this "mistake" could be easily rectified. sigh.
Did you catch that? In the few times that the real me has shown up, the suppressive me has shushed and subdued my realness by assuring me that the oppressor could fix everything if only I would hush.
I don't like the sound of that on paper. I also don't like the way I sound like the devil. I am not the devil. No part of me is. I do not believe that I have a devil side and an angel side.
no.
But I do believe that I have participated in an elaborate ruse. A hoax structured to keep the authentic me quiet.
The hoax...I am too good to be mad. Mad is bad. Bothered is immature. Angry is out of control in a sinful way.
A lifetime of feeling regret because my heart knew that the bother was there...even if the brain would or could not admit it.
So my heart has felt deceitful and dirty and bad...when really it was passion in a spirit crying out for release.
My release.
I am going to think about this some more. I know I am on a journey. Not of navel gazing but of discovery. God has this. He keeps telling me in various ways.
Today I keep hearing...in your anger do not sin. There must be a reason He said that.
And getting back to that first statement...I am confused about the parts of life where you have to step aside from who you really are in order to survive.
Can you do that safely? Is it necessary sometimes or is survival just a cop-out? Is it just a dumb thing to say that has no meaning?
Still thinking...
I wrote this one day...because I felt it. I actually don't know if it makes sense. Nor do I really care. My heart knows. Sometimes that is all ya get.
I think a human spirit is a precious gift from God. It is the thing that makes breathing worthwhile.
It is that defining thing inside ones self that makes you, you. Youfully you.
It is not potential. It is not character. It is not characteristics or attributes or facets. It is not even personality. In fact, I think it is especially not personality.
Spirit is not about how you do things, or why you do things. It goes beyond genetics and environment.
Spirit is essence.
Spirit is that part of you that needs no reason. You don't have to defend its position.
Spirit just is. If you let it.
Spirit is a living thing that can be fed and nurtured and crushed. We set it free. We protect it.
We also abuse it. Or worse, deny it.
Spirit ignored is purely tragic.
Ignoring your spirit causes lifelong problems. Like ulcers. ask me how I know.
I honestly believe that many/most autoimmune diseases are the result of ignoring your spirit. Notice that I did not say all.
Bash me if you must, but it is what I think so nyah. (stick out tongue here)
I mean really, if you have a disorder where your body is turning on itself in an attempt to eradicate an intruder, and that intruder is one or more of the necessary organs in your body, you might be suffering from spirit suppression. Your body is smart. It knows that there is some imposter running around in your undershorts trying to convince the world that they are you. So it begins to send out the white cells to do some battle.
Ignoring who you really are is like declaring war on your own self. That is scary. And really not very smart.
I refuse to think that I am the only one doing such a stupid thing. Stupidity loves company. Admit it.
For me, ignoring my spirit starts with denying the fact that anything bothers me. I am a paragon of cool. Cucumber, baby.
At least this is what I show the world. This is the way that I survive. Not necessarily because my world is so big and bad, more like because I am big and bad and you must be protected from the viciousness of my spirit.
I have learned to ignore my spirit. Suppress it. Oppress it. Make it serve my will. My will being: protect the ones you love. Don't let it out. It could hurt someone. Ignore it and it will go away.
Being a person well versed in ignoring my spirit I feel like I can talk a little bit about how to do such a thing.
At the very least I can instruct you on how I go about it.
Take these instructions and reverse-psychologise them if you want to avoid some of my angst.
1. Pretend to not be bothered by things that are bothersome. Rise above it. Say to yourself that it doesn't matter. Tell yourself that it is not proper to be upset. Convince yourself that you are too mature to ...whatever. Look that bothersome booger in the face then duck your head and visualize it rolling off your back. quack.
2. If you find that you are still bothered, whisper under your breath that this is none of your business. You can only change you. Keep your eyes on your own paper. This is not your problem.
Advanced users only...pray about it. (interpret that as you will)
3. When you discover that this is, in fact, your problem refer back to 1. Repeat.
I think that about covers it.
You have had your first lesson. That was super easy!
But what does that have to do with your spirit? I don't know. I don't know about your spirit...only mine. That is the way it works. So, if you are interested I will tell you more about what this has to do with my spirit.
I have spent my life so far structuring my responses to reflect my even keel and unflappable disposition.
The more I was bothered by something the more I would restrict, constrict, constrain myself to the "proper" outlook and reply. I didn't do it on purpose. I did it because I was trained to. (self trained mostly, I am sure)
I got so christian with it that if I found myself shakingly upset I could absolutely taste the spiritual battle in the room and go after it full force without ever once realizing that it was my own knickers in a twist. Couldn't be me. I am way too easy going for that.
Now once in awhile the real me would surface. More like breaching actually. I would bust out with such vehemence that people would just blink at me. I would quickly realize my error and retreat in horror and self recrimination.
And here is another layer for you...my own vanity would rush to my aid, wiping the snot off my recrimination with a nice clean hanky of "you are better than that." I was assured that my normal controlled self would soon reappear and that this "mistake" could be easily rectified. sigh.
Did you catch that? In the few times that the real me has shown up, the suppressive me has shushed and subdued my realness by assuring me that the oppressor could fix everything if only I would hush.
I don't like the sound of that on paper. I also don't like the way I sound like the devil. I am not the devil. No part of me is. I do not believe that I have a devil side and an angel side.
no.
But I do believe that I have participated in an elaborate ruse. A hoax structured to keep the authentic me quiet.
The hoax...I am too good to be mad. Mad is bad. Bothered is immature. Angry is out of control in a sinful way.
A lifetime of feeling regret because my heart knew that the bother was there...even if the brain would or could not admit it.
So my heart has felt deceitful and dirty and bad...when really it was passion in a spirit crying out for release.
My release.
I am going to think about this some more. I know I am on a journey. Not of navel gazing but of discovery. God has this. He keeps telling me in various ways.
Today I keep hearing...in your anger do not sin. There must be a reason He said that.
And getting back to that first statement...I am confused about the parts of life where you have to step aside from who you really are in order to survive.
Can you do that safely? Is it necessary sometimes or is survival just a cop-out? Is it just a dumb thing to say that has no meaning?
Still thinking...
7.31.2012
bless-ed
I groaned today. Under the weight of the words I wished I could say and the weight of the words that had already been said. So much hating has been going on. I am not exempt.
I just feel better about myself because I hate the haters.
You know what I am talking about. Bullying and abuse and right and wrong. People standing up for themselves and standing up for others. I want to say something but it has all been said and then some.
I do not know how to make a stand when standing room only is the flavor of the day.
(and that flavor is chicken)
Everybody standing for what they believe in. Or what that guy believes in. Or what God believes in.
Let's just make sure that right is stood up for and let's really make sure that it is kept right.
Or what's the point?
Right?
Too complicated. I just feel more comfortable hating the haters. Simpler that way.
Not exactly proud of that.
I keep trying to reel myself back in but it only works until someone else starts talking and then I start to run the line again as I buck and pull against the current.
I like this fish picture because it describes my heart and how it feels hooked and helpless. I don't want to keep taking the shiny hate bait like a stupid fish. I want to reject the lures kerplunking from every side of the issue. I want to move beyond my instinct.
That is hard. My instinct tells me that hate is good. Hate is provision. It is the answer to what I have been looking for. This is especially convenient because what I have been looking for is answers.
Hate is the shiny answer to my hearts question about how to feel towards all the bullies. I don't have to point out the bullies. If I started detailing instances of bullying it would take all day and get really redundant. It isn't just about this current issue. Happens all the time...so I am just gonna try and give you a one sentence definition of bully.
Ready?
If you are standing on your superior right and oppressing someone with that right, you are being a bully.
I really hate it when that happens.
I hate it so much that when I feel it happening I tend to bet on the underdog and hate the bully no matter how right the bully is in their position.
So, if I gotta put the hate somewhere, at least it is constructive.
Well, somewhere in there I began to realize that this was probably not the way I needed to be thinking.
Thus, the groaning.
If you wait long enough I do eventually come back to the point.
Simply put, I asked the Lord if He would help me feel His heart on the matter.
I do not in any way say that I am revealing the heart of God here. I am just saying that this is what came to my heart in response to my asking my Father to help me understand His perspective.
You gotta do your own research on this.
The matter on my heart...
one person has spoken his opinion leading to one people group standing en masse to support both his right to his opinion and their agreement with his position. This has led to both misunderstanding and full comprehension of the stated and unstated agendas of people groups on every side of this issue.
People standing for their rights. Other people being looked down upon because their beliefs don't match up. Hating happening pretty generously on both sides leading to multiple levels of hating by association as people pointed fingers and spoke loudly about all the various subsets of said support. sigh.
I groaned. I listened. I heard...Matthew 5. I began to read...
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
I have always been taught that the sermon on the mount was about Jesus teaching his disciples how to be good losers.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
I guess I also knew that it was talking about those poor souls like you find in Africa
or China.
You know, the persecuted ones.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Meek is about being lowly. Or perceived lower than the one doing the perceiving.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.
I am reading, and chuckling a little at this one as I think about hungering for
righteousness vs chicken.
-Glad I didn't stand in any lines.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
oops. point taken.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
getting a little close to home here.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.
I began to wonder about these words and how I had always been led to interpret them. In mercy I thought about standing in line for the 'right' and how un-peaceful that can be. And it hurt me. But not in a judgmental way. More in a way that really let me feel how much people can hurt while I defend my rights.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
My hands began to shake with the power of this statement. Right or wrong, I saw this sentence in an entirely new light.
I had thought this a call for strength.
I had thought this a promise to the right.
Stand firm in your beliefs. Hold the line. Take the punches. You will be rewarded.
I am not saying that is wrong. I am just saying that my thought was pretty exclusive as to its meaning.
Today I was introduced to a new thought.
What if the blessed are the ones being persecuted by the hands and hearts of the righteous.
What if our stand for the right is causing pain, oppression, and persecution to others.
Is it possible that the Lord of Heaven is standing ready to defend this persecution?
Or the ones being persecuted?
Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you, and falsely say all manner of evil against you in my name.
Now I can hear the voice of my dad in my head. And I smile when I type this. He is telling me I have it all backwards because that next verse talks about prophets and clearly people living in sin are not who he is talking about...to which I would say innocently "daddy, are you saying that all those people on that mountain were sinless?"
And then we would go round and round arguing semantics.
So, just know that I know what you are saying when you say I am misinterpreting.
I am not saying it doesn't mean what we were taught.
I am saying...it may mean more than that.
Read on.
You will find that the rest of the chapter reads different if you look at it from the perspective of the teacher trying to each his students about respecting others and living in such a way as to bring honor and love to an otherwise harsh and impersonal law.
Today I began to read this "Sermon on the Mount" with a heart that looks to others instead of only to myself. I see the promises not only for my own down times but for the down times of the hurting around me.
I see the blessed as defined by Jesus himself. I see where He is instructing me how to see His beautiful creation. His children.
I see, for the first time, that being salt and light are not only a call to purity and strength but also an encouragement to hold fast to the principles of love taught by the Master. For if salt and light are defined as love then we are called to never lose our love and to never hide it.
Love as salt will affect everyone around with its saltiness.
Love as light will brighten the whole city when kept fully out in the open for all to see.
I know you know this.
Take it and apply it back to the blessed ones. Consider that the blessed ones (in this case) are anyone that is not full up with the knowledge of the love of Jesus.
The lowly, the persecuted, the poor in spirit...whether they know it or not.
Now that you recognize them, do not pity them.
Certainly do not yell at them about how right you are.
Embrace them.
I sit here now, weary but heartened by the promises I feel in my heart. I look on the events of the past few days and it breaks my heart because so many people were belittled and hurt...on both sides.
My Papa has a heart to mend the hurts. I know this is true. I want to live in a way that honors His heart.
I hope I can start with today.
I just feel better about myself because I hate the haters.
You know what I am talking about. Bullying and abuse and right and wrong. People standing up for themselves and standing up for others. I want to say something but it has all been said and then some.
I do not know how to make a stand when standing room only is the flavor of the day.
(and that flavor is chicken)
Everybody standing for what they believe in. Or what that guy believes in. Or what God believes in.
Let's just make sure that right is stood up for and let's really make sure that it is kept right.
Or what's the point?
Right?
Too complicated. I just feel more comfortable hating the haters. Simpler that way.
Not exactly proud of that.
I keep trying to reel myself back in but it only works until someone else starts talking and then I start to run the line again as I buck and pull against the current.
I like this fish picture because it describes my heart and how it feels hooked and helpless. I don't want to keep taking the shiny hate bait like a stupid fish. I want to reject the lures kerplunking from every side of the issue. I want to move beyond my instinct.
That is hard. My instinct tells me that hate is good. Hate is provision. It is the answer to what I have been looking for. This is especially convenient because what I have been looking for is answers.
Hate is the shiny answer to my hearts question about how to feel towards all the bullies. I don't have to point out the bullies. If I started detailing instances of bullying it would take all day and get really redundant. It isn't just about this current issue. Happens all the time...so I am just gonna try and give you a one sentence definition of bully.
Ready?
If you are standing on your superior right and oppressing someone with that right, you are being a bully.
I really hate it when that happens.
I hate it so much that when I feel it happening I tend to bet on the underdog and hate the bully no matter how right the bully is in their position.
So, if I gotta put the hate somewhere, at least it is constructive.
Well, somewhere in there I began to realize that this was probably not the way I needed to be thinking.
Thus, the groaning.
If you wait long enough I do eventually come back to the point.
Simply put, I asked the Lord if He would help me feel His heart on the matter.
I do not in any way say that I am revealing the heart of God here. I am just saying that this is what came to my heart in response to my asking my Father to help me understand His perspective.
You gotta do your own research on this.
The matter on my heart...
one person has spoken his opinion leading to one people group standing en masse to support both his right to his opinion and their agreement with his position. This has led to both misunderstanding and full comprehension of the stated and unstated agendas of people groups on every side of this issue.
People standing for their rights. Other people being looked down upon because their beliefs don't match up. Hating happening pretty generously on both sides leading to multiple levels of hating by association as people pointed fingers and spoke loudly about all the various subsets of said support. sigh.
I groaned. I listened. I heard...Matthew 5. I began to read...
Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
I have always been taught that the sermon on the mount was about Jesus teaching his disciples how to be good losers.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
I guess I also knew that it was talking about those poor souls like you find in Africa
or China.
You know, the persecuted ones.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Meek is about being lowly. Or perceived lower than the one doing the perceiving.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they will be filled.
I am reading, and chuckling a little at this one as I think about hungering for
righteousness vs chicken.
-Glad I didn't stand in any lines.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
oops. point taken.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
getting a little close to home here.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.
I began to wonder about these words and how I had always been led to interpret them. In mercy I thought about standing in line for the 'right' and how un-peaceful that can be. And it hurt me. But not in a judgmental way. More in a way that really let me feel how much people can hurt while I defend my rights.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
My hands began to shake with the power of this statement. Right or wrong, I saw this sentence in an entirely new light.
I had thought this a call for strength.
I had thought this a promise to the right.
Stand firm in your beliefs. Hold the line. Take the punches. You will be rewarded.
I am not saying that is wrong. I am just saying that my thought was pretty exclusive as to its meaning.
Today I was introduced to a new thought.
What if the blessed are the ones being persecuted by the hands and hearts of the righteous.
What if our stand for the right is causing pain, oppression, and persecution to others.
Is it possible that the Lord of Heaven is standing ready to defend this persecution?
Or the ones being persecuted?
Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you, and falsely say all manner of evil against you in my name.
Now I can hear the voice of my dad in my head. And I smile when I type this. He is telling me I have it all backwards because that next verse talks about prophets and clearly people living in sin are not who he is talking about...to which I would say innocently "daddy, are you saying that all those people on that mountain were sinless?"
And then we would go round and round arguing semantics.
So, just know that I know what you are saying when you say I am misinterpreting.
I am not saying it doesn't mean what we were taught.
I am saying...it may mean more than that.
Read on.
You will find that the rest of the chapter reads different if you look at it from the perspective of the teacher trying to each his students about respecting others and living in such a way as to bring honor and love to an otherwise harsh and impersonal law.
Today I began to read this "Sermon on the Mount" with a heart that looks to others instead of only to myself. I see the promises not only for my own down times but for the down times of the hurting around me.
I see the blessed as defined by Jesus himself. I see where He is instructing me how to see His beautiful creation. His children.
I see, for the first time, that being salt and light are not only a call to purity and strength but also an encouragement to hold fast to the principles of love taught by the Master. For if salt and light are defined as love then we are called to never lose our love and to never hide it.
Love as salt will affect everyone around with its saltiness.
Love as light will brighten the whole city when kept fully out in the open for all to see.
I know you know this.
Take it and apply it back to the blessed ones. Consider that the blessed ones (in this case) are anyone that is not full up with the knowledge of the love of Jesus.
The lowly, the persecuted, the poor in spirit...whether they know it or not.
Now that you recognize them, do not pity them.
Certainly do not yell at them about how right you are.
Embrace them.
I sit here now, weary but heartened by the promises I feel in my heart. I look on the events of the past few days and it breaks my heart because so many people were belittled and hurt...on both sides.
My Papa has a heart to mend the hurts. I know this is true. I want to live in a way that honors His heart.
I hope I can start with today.
7.18.2012
dwelling place
This is going to take a while. It takes
a lot of words. Even saying that is an understatement.
There is no
short essay form for this topic. I ask you, if you feel brave or
curious enough to continue, consider carefully what my heart has laid
before you and respond. I would like to hear you.
This is about p*R^0gR@p\-\y. Look at
that word carefully. It will come to you.
I typed it like that in a
lame attempt to protect myself from google searches.
Although...with what I am about to say,
maybe a few searchers would be welcome here. :-\
From now on I will just refer to it as
prn.
When you read prn, know that I am
mixing in every “sexually impure” thing that has been agonizing
me. The posers, the lookers, the sellers, the industry, the girls at
the pool, the advertisements, the movies, the perpetrators and the
victims. All of it.
Prn, it has clenched my husband in a
death roll.
Taken sniper shots at my sons.
Fileted my marriage, scorched my
parenting, targeted my christianity
and barbequed my womanhood.
Yet it has not won.
I am still standing. Still loving. A
survivor.
And today, I feel victorious.
But that is not always so.
I have felt myself lost
abandoned
left torn apart
with nowhere to turn and no hope of
release.
I have screamed to the heavens
searched both sacred and secular
frantic
to see the end
and all I found was
piety or sheer humanistic determination
but no eject lever
just an endless merry go round
a frustrating circle
no escape
a disease
terminal
and devastating.
How could I possibly have hope when,
aside from a miracle, there loomed before me
a lifetime of despair and regret.
Despair for loved ones all around me
who are constantly accosted.
Regret for me as participant. For what
I have seen that still haunts me. For my curiosity.
Despair in feeling like this will never
end. That their struggle cannot be understood. And is a curse.
Regret for me as victim- heart raped
each time my warrior men engaged in battle for their lives and left
the homefires unattended- open for pillage.
I still bear those scars.
I cannot speak for them. My men. I do
not know their struggle tho my heart bleeds just as red
with their every wound.
I am not man. And knowing women also
fall into this trap is really no help at all because that is not
my story.
My story deals with passionate men
entrapped in hate and loathing both for those they've seen and who
they've been for looking.
How is one expected to survive when the
battle is bred into your DNA? How does one fight when all you've been
about is destruction and it seems that the only way out is to destroy
the perpetrator which is you? What do you do with the loved ones you
have betrayed in your weakness? You see their hurt while you continue
to destroy the very one they long to restore.
Do you see how tangled up this gets?
Not just the looker affected.
But the one who holds his heart.
Torn apart.
It isn't really about betrayal, tho in
anger that label has tried to take hold.
No- the tearing comes more with the
despair. Why. How.
When will we be done with this?
Because reality proves again and again
that you cannot take things back.
You can't un-see.
So do you wallow in despair- and
hopelessness- and anger
spewing lava streams of hellfire and
brimstone upon society at large and upon the vixen vipers coiled all
around you posed to strike.
Hate.
Hate.
Hate.
It doesn't make the problem go away.
How do we live in this world and hate
such a despicable thing that never, ever, goes away?
You cannot run from it.
Cannot protect yourself or those you
love.
Although you try.
You try. But it gets in.
continually.
The vile stench of impurity.
Wrecking.
Putrid.
Half naked society. Bandaid clad.
Lounging on the doorsteps or our hearts and minds and souls.
Maybe not prn exactly. Maybe not prn at
all.
But just enough to get a thought
jumpstarted that was best left dormant.
Everywhere.
An opportunity to hate. To stand my
ground and snarl. For myself and everyone I love.
All out war all the time. Hating.
Disgusted. Despairing.
How do you live with the hate that
brings death?
Does that even make sense?
I do want that prn to die. To go away
forever. And it will someday when all is said and done.
But what til then?
Cry, and fight, and wail, and slip, and
forgive, and try-try-try to forget.
The list goes on and around.
You know.
How do you live with death?
One day, my heart decided to stop
fighting so hard.
Maybe you can't follow this- and that
is fine.
Read carefully...
I did not accept this as in “it is
ok”.
no.
But I have come to make some choices.
Hard choices.
And I truly believe for me it is an
answer- if not a solution- from Heaven.
I realized that I could choose to hate.
Every woman that shows more skin than I
agree with.
Every woman that wiggles
or poses
or invites with her eyes
or her lips
or her boobs.
Every woman that does not invite on purpose but through her ignorance or arrogance refuses to acknowledge the battle at hand.
Or I could choose to love her.
And if I chose to love her I could
teach the same to those within my sphere.
Leading by example.
I could call out her demonic ways and
encourage my men to protect themselves with armor made of piety- self
righteousness- anger- fear- guilt- pity- hatred- despair- disgust-
Or I could witness the hurt-
the agony of disrespect both given and
received.
The horror-
recognized or not, of living on
display-
abused- broken hearted- abandoned-
poverty stricken- dying-
If I choose to see the hurt then I have
to remember the truth about God.
The truth-
He dwells with the broken hearted.
Can I get my heart around this?
If my Lord came to heal the wounded
if He shelters the abused
if he lives with the ones that are so
broken that they are dying
Then my God dwells within...
(I am not trying to be dramatic here. I
simply cannot write the end of that sentence.)
Can I model this to my hearts- my men-
When you eyes look at nakedness you are
looking at God.
He is there- drawn close in love-
covering her, in her nakedness, with
His love.
Does this change what you see?
Can you hear Him?
He does not scream at you or whisper to
your guilt.
He does not shame you for your
disgusting lack of self control.
If you hear that- know it is not your
Lord.
He does not speak in such a way.
Your Lord loves you enough to want you
to realize His heart for you.
A heart free- loved- respected-
honored- encouraged- believed in- cherished-
His heart for you is the exact same for
the one your eyes see...
free- loved- respected- honored-
encouraged- believed in- cherished-
I believe that the Lord invites us to
look away- but in respect- not disgust- and remember that we have
just witnessed a dwelling place of the Most High.
What if, little by little, we could be
trained to see God by finding Him – encountering Him-
as He dwells with the hurting.
Could we dwell with Him in places we
have only yet been taught to avoid at all costs?
The destitute will change our
perspective of right and wrong on the societal morality scale... can
we trust Him with our souls enough to follow Him to a world
completely opposite of our puritanical standard?
This breaks my mind.
Would such a radical leap change our
perspective on prn and our reactions about it and our seeming slavery
to it?
Can we love our way out?
Hear me hear me hear me...I am not
suggesting that we all open up our arms and embrace the prn industry.
I am not suggesting that we train ourselves to look in some
pseudo-innoculation ritual hoping to strengthen our resolve.
no. no. no.
Don't look. Don't flirt with it in
any way. Stay far away. You can make choices. You can remove yourself.
What I am saying is that there is a
pervasive presence of sexual “impurity” all around us every day.
I believe that hatred feeds the beast.
I believe that seeing, with our hearts eyes, the presence of God
dwelling with the hurting might just give us the strength to
respectfully look away without hating.
I am saying that keeping our robes all
sparkley white by despising the humanity we encounter might be
leading us down a road of pharisiacal right that leaves lots and lots
of neighbors bleeding by the way.
I am asking myself to consider it. Then
consider it again.
Or hate.
There is no neat wrap up here.
It never ends. This struggle for
survival. This journey through the world.
This wrestling with our passions and
our purity.
But maybe, in the curse, we can find a
blessing.
As shocking and despicable as that
sounds.
Could it be a blessing to find love
where ever before you only found hate?
If daily you are accosted with
opportunities to fill your heart with hate for others and yourself
...and, if daily you make a choice to love...will it slowly but
surely change your heart?
I do not do endings well. And since my
mind talks in pictures I will end by sharing mine with you.
What if, in this endless struggle you
begin to realize that compassion rises over purity like the warm morning sun
vaulting over mountains. It brings daylight to the darkened crags,
illuminating what was once just blackness.
This change in light may not make your
journey easy but at least it can help you find your way.
10.26.2011
happy hollow weenie
I hate halloween.
Seems every year that my children drill me on why we don't "do" halloween. And every year I have to explain why while feeling a burden to educate them but not creep them out too much.
So...we talk a bit about ancient beliefs, all hallows eve, dead walking around, bad spirits wanting to inhabit, costumes to try and fool the spirits, tricks cuz "hey we're in costume we can get away with it", treats to ward off tricks, devil worship, creepy costumes vs nice costumes...
blah blah blah.
Then we talk about how creepy it is to go house to house begging for candy... from strangers.
I mean seriously, if you are young enough for that to be exciting then the practice is just confusing and dangerous...if you are old enough to understand why it is confusing and dangerous then you need to go buy your own dang candy.
Candy that yer mean ole mom will take away from you as soon as you hit the house.
Plus, even if you are a fairy princess or an angel or a teddy bear you are likely to be met by a bloody serial killer, brain eating zombie or demonic alien hooker witch...these visions combined with a sugar high are sure to be a deadly dream combination.
I hate halloween.
I hate the Spirit stores that open up each year and make me try and get my children to look the other way until we get past. (it almost never works)
I hate the general love of all things gross and evil and bloody. I hate that it comes right up into your everyday living space and sticks its demonic tongue out at you.
You can't buy cereal or tampons without someone with a machete buried in his head telling you to "have a nice day".
And why do waitresses all think that slutty-witch is an appropriate costume for an otherwise family friendly eating experience? sheesh.
I hate halloween.
I think sugar is pretty much evil in any amount outside of the barest of moderation. I don't go down the candy isles.
I just pretty much wear the "don't even ask" look while at the checkout line.
Don't get me wrong...I like candy. I even buy candy. But when we have candy we eat it.
So we don't have it much. got it?
I refuse to let my children go door to door begging for poison so that they can bring it home and be mad at me for trying to do what's best for them. sigh.
I hate halloween.
I don't have the strength today to talk about devil worship and how the church seems to have embraced it with a sweet "but it's all fun for the kiddies" mentality. Another time.
I hate halloween.
Ask me next year and I betcha I will have new reasons. Seems the list keeps growing.
Seems every year that my children drill me on why we don't "do" halloween. And every year I have to explain why while feeling a burden to educate them but not creep them out too much.
So...we talk a bit about ancient beliefs, all hallows eve, dead walking around, bad spirits wanting to inhabit, costumes to try and fool the spirits, tricks cuz "hey we're in costume we can get away with it", treats to ward off tricks, devil worship, creepy costumes vs nice costumes...
blah blah blah.
Then we talk about how creepy it is to go house to house begging for candy... from strangers.
I mean seriously, if you are young enough for that to be exciting then the practice is just confusing and dangerous...if you are old enough to understand why it is confusing and dangerous then you need to go buy your own dang candy.
Candy that yer mean ole mom will take away from you as soon as you hit the house.
Plus, even if you are a fairy princess or an angel or a teddy bear you are likely to be met by a bloody serial killer, brain eating zombie or demonic alien hooker witch...these visions combined with a sugar high are sure to be a deadly dream combination.
I hate halloween.
I hate the Spirit stores that open up each year and make me try and get my children to look the other way until we get past. (it almost never works)
I hate the general love of all things gross and evil and bloody. I hate that it comes right up into your everyday living space and sticks its demonic tongue out at you.
You can't buy cereal or tampons without someone with a machete buried in his head telling you to "have a nice day".
And why do waitresses all think that slutty-witch is an appropriate costume for an otherwise family friendly eating experience? sheesh.
I hate halloween.
I think sugar is pretty much evil in any amount outside of the barest of moderation. I don't go down the candy isles.
I just pretty much wear the "don't even ask" look while at the checkout line.
Don't get me wrong...I like candy. I even buy candy. But when we have candy we eat it.
So we don't have it much. got it?
I refuse to let my children go door to door begging for poison so that they can bring it home and be mad at me for trying to do what's best for them. sigh.
I hate halloween.
I don't have the strength today to talk about devil worship and how the church seems to have embraced it with a sweet "but it's all fun for the kiddies" mentality. Another time.
I hate halloween.
Ask me next year and I betcha I will have new reasons. Seems the list keeps growing.
10.22.2011
pedestals
My relationships are rapidly changing. I don't know if they know it yet, but they are.
Change is good, right?
Really the change is happening in me. And since I am becoming something different it seems natural that how I react and interact with my life is also going to change.
So let's get down to brass tacks.
What is changing?
I am learning that I have built my life on an elaborate series of untruths.
(I am sure we will see additional posts about this)
One thing that has recently been revealed to me is that I think my people are Awesome.
with a capital A.
The basic untruth here being that I need to live in Awe of them.
The ugly truth here...I put people on pedestals. Wayyy on up there. In my desire to believe the best in people I have inadvertently held them up with my esteem to the point that the only way they could go was down. And down they have come. Over time. All of em...
One by one.
It isn't as tho I think them perfect. No. I see that they have faults. It is just that their faults have not directly affected me so I magnanimously allow them to remain in view so as not to heroically brand my loved one.
Hero worship is dangerous. Everybody knows this.
So they get to be imperfect. But still awesome. After all, I love them...so they must be all that.
Right?
But then, inevitably, they do the deed that affects me personally. Their fault hurts me. Or worse, someone I love. And they fall.
Sometimes I reach up and yank them down. Either way...boom.
And this falling...it hurts us both.
It hurts me because it feels like betrayal. Personal. And painful.
How dare they? If they reveal that they are not what I have believed them to be then they must have been perpetrating an untruth. Lying to me.
Leading me on with promises.
Sure, my expectations may have been absurdly unreal but they were a party to it.
They stood up on that height and went along with me on with my distorted reality trip.
(they are very multi-taskual you know)
But they have been found out.
Now I know them for what they really are; liars. And that stings.
I am now hurting.
You know, I really don't get their hurt...because I have been supremely fair in my pedestal building. They may have known I was building it and may have been working extra hard to keep themselves within the confines of the platform... But I gave them lots of room! I mean, I allowed them their various imperfections. I knew they had their faults. I even let them keep their faults on display. As long as it didn't affect me or mine they were free.
Ok, so maybe they had no idea how high they were being held. Maybe they thought it was just a small podium. Just a little adoration footstool of shiny thoughts. Me in love. Maybe they were ok with that. What is the harm in a little bit of lofty expectations? If you get tired you just step off.
If that is the case, surprise surprise surprise, that first step is a loo-loo.
They crash and burn then brush themselves off and look up to find my looks of disappointment...disillusionment...disgust even.
No longer are they high and lifted up. They have been found out.
Maybe I can see how that would hurt them. I can give you that it could possibly be unfair.
Ok.
Totally unfair.
It's not right you know...putting people on pedestals. But I do it. Have done it all my life.
If I like you, I like you a lot. You are wonderful.
Do I like you because you're wonderful? Or are you wonderful, because I like you?
(lyrics loosely from a song I heard once.)
I want to like you. I want to create a cushy place in my heart for you where we can be friends together and never disappoint one another. I know you will fit there. Not like all those other cretans. (from the urban dictionary: someone who is an idiot and lacks gravitas)
They have shown their true colors and abandoned me. No. You will be different.
You are wonderful.
Feel that pedestal rising up like a barbers chair? pump, pump, pump...
You might feel it happening and protest. But I am quick. I rush in with assurances of our mutual imperfections. This makes you feel better. What you don't know is that your protest just accelerated the pump action on my hydraulic pedestal raiser upper.
Being aware of your weakness makes you just that much more awesome.
There is no winning with me. sigh.
Here is how it goes...
We meet, I fall in like, you live up high while I tend to your needs, you fail here or there but I don't take it personal, you try to let me know your weakness, I reassure you, you let me down directly, your pedestal crumbles, I feel terribly hurt, appologies and forgivenesses, I help you re-assume your pedestial position....
I am so tired of living this way.
So what has changed? Rather, what is changing?
Well, I am now aware of my predilection for pedestal permutation. It is a harsh taskmaster for my heart. Assigning you a level of awesomeness and watching you from below is tiring. It does feel empowering in a way because it is like creation. Sick.
You become my plaything. My opus.
And when you crash...I fail. Because really, your failure is a reflection on me. I created you after all.
That is excruciating, exhausting, and again, supremely unfair to you (and me both).
I mean it! What a rip off that I created you, this awesome monster, and I am the one who gets all in a twist when you act as yourself (but in a way that offends me) and pulls you off the beauteous pediment I so graciously appointed for you. sheesh.
If I were you I would not put up with it any longer.
If I were me I would stop being such a dumbdonkey going around creating complex situations for epic failure.
And that is what is changing.
I am going to try and stop doing that.
I am going to try living with you on the same level. I hope that this will allow you to make your mistakes in freedom. No more being bound by my expectations. You just get to be you.
You might see that I don't treat you as carefully as I once did. You are a grownup. It is time I let you act like one.
Think of it this way...for the first time in our relationship you can really be free to be yourself with me. My goal is to see that and learn to accept it. Let you be you and let me be me reacting and interacting with you and let you be you reacting and interacting with me. Simple right?
I think we will get along better after the initial adjustments. We will both have much more energy if I am not constantly having to reinstate you up on that shiny column.
You can just trip and fall (and I can laugh) and we can move on.
Maybe none of this makes sense. It does get rather complicated. Or maybe it makes a load of sense because maybe you are also a pedestal pusher. I don't know. It is just a peek at me. For myself mostly.
Cheaper than counseling.
Now maybe looking at this makes you irritated because I am so arrogant as to think that you care what pedestal I have you on. Well go ahead and get glad in the same pants you got mad in cuz you can't control it.
But I am gonna try to not do that to you anymore. No promises or pinky swears.
Just me trying.
That is the best I can do for now.
Change is good, right?
Really the change is happening in me. And since I am becoming something different it seems natural that how I react and interact with my life is also going to change.
So let's get down to brass tacks.
What is changing?
I am learning that I have built my life on an elaborate series of untruths.
(I am sure we will see additional posts about this)
One thing that has recently been revealed to me is that I think my people are Awesome.
with a capital A.
The basic untruth here being that I need to live in Awe of them.
The ugly truth here...I put people on pedestals. Wayyy on up there. In my desire to believe the best in people I have inadvertently held them up with my esteem to the point that the only way they could go was down. And down they have come. Over time. All of em...
One by one.
It isn't as tho I think them perfect. No. I see that they have faults. It is just that their faults have not directly affected me so I magnanimously allow them to remain in view so as not to heroically brand my loved one.
Hero worship is dangerous. Everybody knows this.
So they get to be imperfect. But still awesome. After all, I love them...so they must be all that.
Right?
But then, inevitably, they do the deed that affects me personally. Their fault hurts me. Or worse, someone I love. And they fall.
Sometimes I reach up and yank them down. Either way...boom.
And this falling...it hurts us both.
It hurts me because it feels like betrayal. Personal. And painful.
How dare they? If they reveal that they are not what I have believed them to be then they must have been perpetrating an untruth. Lying to me.
Leading me on with promises.
Sure, my expectations may have been absurdly unreal but they were a party to it.
They stood up on that height and went along with me on with my distorted reality trip.
(they are very multi-taskual you know)
But they have been found out.
Now I know them for what they really are; liars. And that stings.
I am now hurting.
You know, I really don't get their hurt...because I have been supremely fair in my pedestal building. They may have known I was building it and may have been working extra hard to keep themselves within the confines of the platform... But I gave them lots of room! I mean, I allowed them their various imperfections. I knew they had their faults. I even let them keep their faults on display. As long as it didn't affect me or mine they were free.
Ok, so maybe they had no idea how high they were being held. Maybe they thought it was just a small podium. Just a little adoration footstool of shiny thoughts. Me in love. Maybe they were ok with that. What is the harm in a little bit of lofty expectations? If you get tired you just step off.
If that is the case, surprise surprise surprise, that first step is a loo-loo.
They crash and burn then brush themselves off and look up to find my looks of disappointment...disillusionment...disgust even.
No longer are they high and lifted up. They have been found out.
Maybe I can see how that would hurt them. I can give you that it could possibly be unfair.
Ok.
Totally unfair.
It's not right you know...putting people on pedestals. But I do it. Have done it all my life.
If I like you, I like you a lot. You are wonderful.
Do I like you because you're wonderful? Or are you wonderful, because I like you?
(lyrics loosely from a song I heard once.)
I want to like you. I want to create a cushy place in my heart for you where we can be friends together and never disappoint one another. I know you will fit there. Not like all those other cretans. (from the urban dictionary: someone who is an idiot and lacks gravitas)
They have shown their true colors and abandoned me. No. You will be different.
You are wonderful.
Feel that pedestal rising up like a barbers chair? pump, pump, pump...
You might feel it happening and protest. But I am quick. I rush in with assurances of our mutual imperfections. This makes you feel better. What you don't know is that your protest just accelerated the pump action on my hydraulic pedestal raiser upper.
Being aware of your weakness makes you just that much more awesome.
There is no winning with me. sigh.
Here is how it goes...
We meet, I fall in like, you live up high while I tend to your needs, you fail here or there but I don't take it personal, you try to let me know your weakness, I reassure you, you let me down directly, your pedestal crumbles, I feel terribly hurt, appologies and forgivenesses, I help you re-assume your pedestial position....
I am so tired of living this way.
So what has changed? Rather, what is changing?
Well, I am now aware of my predilection for pedestal permutation. It is a harsh taskmaster for my heart. Assigning you a level of awesomeness and watching you from below is tiring. It does feel empowering in a way because it is like creation. Sick.
You become my plaything. My opus.
And when you crash...I fail. Because really, your failure is a reflection on me. I created you after all.
That is excruciating, exhausting, and again, supremely unfair to you (and me both).
I mean it! What a rip off that I created you, this awesome monster, and I am the one who gets all in a twist when you act as yourself (but in a way that offends me) and pulls you off the beauteous pediment I so graciously appointed for you. sheesh.
If I were you I would not put up with it any longer.
If I were me I would stop being such a dumbdonkey going around creating complex situations for epic failure.
And that is what is changing.
I am going to try and stop doing that.
I am going to try living with you on the same level. I hope that this will allow you to make your mistakes in freedom. No more being bound by my expectations. You just get to be you.
You might see that I don't treat you as carefully as I once did. You are a grownup. It is time I let you act like one.
Think of it this way...for the first time in our relationship you can really be free to be yourself with me. My goal is to see that and learn to accept it. Let you be you and let me be me reacting and interacting with you and let you be you reacting and interacting with me. Simple right?
I think we will get along better after the initial adjustments. We will both have much more energy if I am not constantly having to reinstate you up on that shiny column.
You can just trip and fall (and I can laugh) and we can move on.
Maybe none of this makes sense. It does get rather complicated. Or maybe it makes a load of sense because maybe you are also a pedestal pusher. I don't know. It is just a peek at me. For myself mostly.
Cheaper than counseling.
Now maybe looking at this makes you irritated because I am so arrogant as to think that you care what pedestal I have you on. Well go ahead and get glad in the same pants you got mad in cuz you can't control it.
But I am gonna try to not do that to you anymore. No promises or pinky swears.
Just me trying.
That is the best I can do for now.
9.27.2011
it is not ok
and then she hauled off and whacked him good.
I bet it felt really good too. At least to her. He had been bugging her all day...as is his way...and she had had it up to here.
I didn't see it coming. The hitting. I had heard rumors on other days and heard scuffles in other rooms but if it had happened before, it was out of my sight. People would get a lecture as I looked down my proverbial nose and shook my verbal finger. But you know, I didn't see those incidents happen. Everything was dealt with after the fact. And honestly, it is easier to deal with minor stuff that way.
This, right in front of me, had to be dealt with. Now.
dangit.
So I do the drill. (and here, dear reader, you get a front row judgment seat in our court o justice)
"HEY...what just happened here?"
the brother sits stunned
the sister finds many multiple things to stare at that are everywhere but in my general direction
"did you just hit your brother?"
the silence, is deafening...tap tap helllloooo is this thing on???
"did. you. just. hit. your. brother?"
a slight upward motion of the head
sigh. "what has happened that you think it is ok to smack your brother?"
"he was messin with my Belle doll and he wouldn't stop" sniff, sniff...
innocent indignance jumps in..."I was just making her do flying leaps off the coffee table, we were having fun"
I address him first...
"have we talked before about being a bully? about how if you are the only one laughing then that is not playing...that is bullying..."
"uh-huh"
"so, were you treating her with love and respect?"
"uh-noooo"
"then you were wrong. what do you need to do?"
"uh-not do it anymore?"
"and?????"
"uh-apologize?"
"yes...but wait a minute"
now I talk to her...
"I know brother was seriously bugging you but when you hit him were you treating him with love and respect?"
blink blink
"would you like it if someone hit you because you were doing something they didn't like?"
"no mommy"
"does it show that you love your brother if you hit him?"
"no mommy"
"what do you need to do?"
"I'm sorry" she mumbles to the floor.
"It's ok" he grumbles.
And there it comes to a screeching halt.
"stop. wait a minute. this is not ok. it is not ok that she hit you. it is not ok that you were messing with her stuff when she told you to stop. this situation is not ok and saying sorry doesn't make it ok."
they both blink at me now.
"I do want you to forgive each other. That is very important. But it might not happen right here and now. Maybe you need some time to think. We will come back to this. But I want you to know it is not ok to treat each other like this."
and we go on.
We haven't revisited it yet. They may have forgotten it.
Or have they? Kids have a way of bringing stuff back up at the strangest times. I am just gonna see how this plays out.
So why am I telling you all this?
Well, (you knew I had a reason)
I am exploring a little something in myself. A little something I have a little trouble with.
A little something I like to call forgiveness.
I would swear on my bottom dollar that I have had no trouble with forgiveness. In fact, I was always the kid that would get upset and then calm down and be the first to forget what I was upset about. I was also the kid that could just brush things off. Didn't let it bother me.
Chose to pick my battles.
Easy going. Peacemaker. People pleasing. Passive aggressive. Stuffer.
uh yeah. it's a slippery slope people.
ok, let's back up a bit.
I grew up with the teaching that if someone did something bad to you they would say "sorry" (usually) and you would say "that's ok" and you would hug or whatever and that was it.
sorry+ok=forgiveness
Now, sometimes they would not say sorry.
bummer.
But you still had an obligation to forgive them. If they came back to you later and said "sorry" you could say something magnanimous like "it's ok, all forgotten" or "pshaw, I don't even know what you're talking about" or "hey, we all make mistakes". You might hug, or cry, or whatever...
All better.
Today I am just here to say bull puckey to all that.
I am here to confess that I never meant it. Not one time.
When you said "sorry" to me and I said "ok" to you I was lying.
I never once forgave any of you losers.
I thought I did. Does that make it any better?
I didn't plan your untimely demise. Well....ok maybe sometimes I did.
But I didn't put a hit out on ya.
I just took the not okay-ness and stuffed in a dark interior corner (somewhere near my appendix) and forgot about it.
Or not.
I just went on with life.
Then one year all that stuffed stuff decided to take a little party trip to ulcerville . For those of you who have never taken that trip, let me tell ya, it's a hoot.
Nice girls gone crazy and willing to bare her emotional headlights for just a couple of anger shooters and a promise of fame. woohoo!
When stuff that you have stuffed starts unstuffing you might want to run for cover. And if you are particularly responsible you might warn your loved ones. In a pinch I guess you could yell
"FORE".
Heads up people.
There might be crying...and yelling. Cuz when you realize that all those "ok'd" things are not ok you are gonna feel really ripped off. You are going to start looking for some doorsteps to lay blame on. You are going to feel victimized and brutalized and then you are gonna feel pissed off.
And well you should. You didn't deserve any of that.
It was not ok. It is not ok.
It has not become ok over time nor will it proceed to ok if you don't address it.
not ok.
But it is there. It doesn't go away. So what are you gonna do about it?
Well I don't know. I am not your counselor. I am not even your advisor. I do not have this figured out. I just know that I am just now learning to identify that my life has been filled with not ok things. I am learning to identify them and call them what they are.
And that, feels good.
So, maybe you too have identified some places that are not ok...and not forgiven. You know you need to forgive. All the health professionals will agree. I am not a health professional. Nor do I play one on tv...I, like you, am just a schmo who needs to learn to forgive or die a shriveled old prune.
Nobody wants that.
I need to know how to go from not ok to forgiveness.
At this point I don't even know the difference between the two. Let's explore that a bit.
OK means fixed. Over. All right. It means that what you did is excusable. Not as big a deal as we thought it was. Certainly retrievable. Retractable.
OK sometimes means that my feelings in the matter don't matter...or are put aside for the greater good.
The greater good being...your feelings.
yeouch.
Yeah...I'm sitting here thinkin....that really RIPS!
Seriously, I am awwllll worked up about this.
How come your feelings get to trump mine? Why do I have to make nice and put a cap on this situation when you were the one that did the wrong?
What's it gonna hurt you to say the sorry? If you don't mean it then it is just a word. If you do mean it then it might sting a little to say it but you deserve a little sting.
You wronged me and you should bear the brunt of it. You should feel some of the hurt.
Why do I, as the wronged one, have to alleviate your pain with my forgiveness?
Be honest here...isn't that the way you were trained?
What would have happened if your sister said "I'm sorry" and you crossed your arms and turned away??
I thought so.
Such an act would not have a passed unnoticed.
Mom woulda been on you like a duck on a junebug.
"now what do you say?"
"I for...give youuuu..."
"See! now isn't that all better? Everything is ok now."
here's me sticking out my mental tongue. nyaaaaaaa!
(for a kid...sticking out the tongue is kinda like flippin the bird...they just don't know it yet)
It's not ok!!! My arm still hurts. My feelings are still bruised and I want to poke you in the eye.
But I forgave you so it has to be all done.
Rubbish.
This situation is not over.
Just like sorry can be just a word...forgive can be nothing more than a word. You can mean it or not. Thing is, true forgiveness is way more than just a moment on the audible spectrum. I believe that forgiveness really comes when we realize that what has happened is not ok and we are choosing to do something about it.
We choose to be no longer passive, letting the unfairness of the situation take our power.
We decide that we will act for freedom. Both for ourselves and for the one who harmed us.
In choosing forgiveness we free ourselves from the weight of hate.
In giving forgiveness we free others from the weight of our hurt.
Sometimes, and I want you to listen carefully here, it takes more effort to drop a weight than it does to carry it.
Forgiveness hurts.
We have to realize that forgiveness is not a word, it is an action. Seriously, think about it. I can say "I am jumping now" and I can think it, wish it, decide it, faith it, and fake it all I want but unless I put my butt in gear and put some umph behind it, I aint leaving the ground. Same goes for forgiveness. It is going to take some physical effort on your part to make it happen.
Don't get me wrong, God can (and does) do miracles in the forgiveness department. He has ways, that guy. But generally you are gonna have to put some kind of effort into forgiving. And I believe that to develop the muscles it takes you are going to have to do some major reps. 1 and 2 and 3 and 4 and...to be translated...I forgive and I forgive and I forgive and I forgive.
(maybe Jesus wasn't talking about 70 different transgressions but the same one being forgiven over and over and over and over and over...) (Matthew 18)
Oh my goodness...this is the first time I have ever thought about this scripture in this way!
I was always a little puzzled thinking "what a big loser! why would you be friends with someone who would sin against you so many times??!" duh.
I tell ya, exercising that forgiveness muscle 70x7 for every time you get ripped off is gonna make for one heckuva sixpack. whew!
I got a little sidetracked there and maybe a little too lighthearted.
We have established that forgiveness takes tenacity. What I wanted to talk about is how forgiveness takes courage.
To look at someone who has hurt you...most likely betrayed you in some way...and say to
them "I forgive you" and really mean it to the point that you can feel the blessed release of it...well, that is just almost too hard to think about.
The thing that makes it so very hard is that you have to accept that what happened was wrong. And then you have to move on. And let them move on too.
Let's go back to where I talked about wrong causing hurt and hate. Hurt and hate are burdens.
Big old bulky packages of poo. Weights that are either carried or left behind. When we forgive, we relieve the burden. Put it down. Leave it behind.
And in that action we also turn and lift that same burden off of our perpetrators shoulders too.
Now here is the sticky part...sometimes, I don't want to relieve them just yet...or ever.
I want them to feel the weight.
But, the stinky part here, if I require them to carry the weight...I will carry mine too.
That's how it works.
If I require them to carry my hurt I will continue to carry my hate.
So, practically speaking, it is in my best interest to forgive. It lightens my load. And the bonus, the mysterious part that only God understands, is that while they do benefit...we benefit more. Our heart gets better(maybe not all the way at first). Our stress reduces. Our compassion increases. We see our past better. We see our future brighter. We grow. We get lighter. wow.
And we never once have to say it didn't matter. We don't have to lie down or roll over or take it anymore.
Forgiveness does not mean "i deserved it"or "you had a good reason" or "it's no big deal".
We get to say "dang that hurt! You hurt me. It matters. I matter. That was not ok!"
and then, while recognizing the wrongness we can say the words and do the actions that bring forgiveness and while that does not make the action right, it can stop the perpetual wheel that keeps bringing the wrong around to be wrong again and again and again.
God has given us the power to put a stop to the pain. I wish it were instant. Sigh.
Here is a couple of things I am discovering...it makes my life make so much more sense....
I have always been soooo sorry when I have done somebody wrong. Like, hang my head, sackcloth and ashes, I am not worthy- sorry.
I think that some of that comes from the fact that this is the action I wished to see from those that had wronged me. I wanted them to prove the "sorry". No lip service.
and while I was much too mature and christian to require it of them...my heart wanted them to grovel.
So when I screwed up...I grovelled...or hid. Because that is what my heart required.
You are judged as you judge others???hmmmmm....my heart has been a very harsh judge. ugh.
Another thing I am learning is that forgiveness takes time. People might tell you to be quick to forgive and that might really be the best way but I do not believe that it is always possible.
Maybe we can forgive in layers. I don't know.
If that is how it works then right now I can forgive your lack of self control that resulted in a bruise on my arm but I am gonna have to get back to you about your underlying control issues and how that makes me feel like a toad.
Mostly tho, I just want to be able to take a little time to heal. I might need to process (and think of all the things I coulda/shoulda said at the time) and get to a place where I can let you be free of the pain you caused me. Don't hold yer breath.
It will come. But I won't be rushed.
Time.
In simple terms, I am learning to forgive. Yes, I still have major problems with it. But I am learning. I am learning that people are going to rip me off on a regular basis just like I am going to rip other people off. And that is not ok. But I can recognize the wrongness and decide not to hold it against them.
I can hope that others would do the same for me.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
One last question. What if they never say “sorry” ?
I want you to think about this...in light of what we have been talking about...does sorry really matter?
Sure, it might help. But does it really play a part in your action of forgiveness?
Just something to think about.
8.18.2011
These days
The days are long these days
and hopefully I swim below the cloudless skies
and wish for wonder but instead find repetition.
Again I think I found the answer
tho the question keeps eluding all my sense of right and wrong.
Does it matter if I judge for pity sakes
and leave the grace and mercy up to God?
Constantly reminded of my lack I pull for shore
the great grey mist my goal.
Can I choose my path by choosing not to follow yours?
Your actions mirror fears I see reflecting back on me.
I do not want your life. I fear it actually.
Your closeness can point out the place
my judgement
of you is really distaste for myself.
Observation and reception
can weigh heavy on my heart.
Your intentions and considerations
tangled under words and tone.
I will not be consumed because you let me down.
Again.
My love for who you are does not completely cover what you do.
Reason is not excuse.
My understanding does not grant you freedom to destroy.
So no, I will not let you batter me.
I will release your life and choice to you and keep mine for myself.
But I will love you still.
Forgiving is a living thing that breathes and sighs and shouts.
Still reaching out
my heart
tho broken
wants to let you in.
Again.
And hopefully the wonder will appear
this time.
and hopefully I swim below the cloudless skies
and wish for wonder but instead find repetition.
Again I think I found the answer
tho the question keeps eluding all my sense of right and wrong.
Does it matter if I judge for pity sakes
and leave the grace and mercy up to God?
Constantly reminded of my lack I pull for shore
the great grey mist my goal.
Can I choose my path by choosing not to follow yours?
Your actions mirror fears I see reflecting back on me.
I do not want your life. I fear it actually.
Your closeness can point out the place
my judgement
of you is really distaste for myself.
Observation and reception
can weigh heavy on my heart.
Your intentions and considerations
tangled under words and tone.
I will not be consumed because you let me down.
Again.
My love for who you are does not completely cover what you do.
Reason is not excuse.
My understanding does not grant you freedom to destroy.
So no, I will not let you batter me.
I will release your life and choice to you and keep mine for myself.
But I will love you still.
Forgiving is a living thing that breathes and sighs and shouts.
Still reaching out
my heart
tho broken
wants to let you in.
Again.
And hopefully the wonder will appear
this time.
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