Despair, Hope, Trust

 The rain
          sliding down the glass
          pictures the tears escaping my eyes.

                 The hard of life overwhelming.
                 The ways of God mysterious.
                 The beauty of days fading.
                 The questions of my heart proliferating.
                 The fears of my mind reality.
                 The gray of the sky all-encompassing.

Despair

"I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living." Psalm 27:13 NASV

Hope

"Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God." Psalm 42:5b ESV

I sense the edges of my mouth turning,
           the beat of my heart quieting.

Remembering, reminding, reviewing,
Believing, clinging,
Challenging the despair,
Daring to hope,
Trusting The One.       
Amen

October 15, 2013
Peoria, Illinois

Praying for you, my friend.

                   

Tuesday Grace Letters - Met by Grace

Often on Tuesdays I link up with Mundane Faithfulness, a wonderful blog penned by my friend Kara. I hope you'll click over and read her words too.

My story ... 

I give up and I don’t care! It came to that. The tears flowed. My friend listened quietly.

The hour before we sat in the large group meeting. She (another friend) was up front, again! It’s important that it was a she. Why did she get all the opportunities? I want to minister too! Why does the offer never come my way? My husband says he saw the steam exiting my ears.

For me, ministry meant being up front.

The meeting ended. I put on my friendly mask and hurriedly stomped (I mean walked) from the meeting room. 

Later my husband sat patiently with me while I poured out my MAD to him. He too listened; he also had a suggestion, “Perhaps you should see a counselor,” he offered. Had it come to that? Would nothing else work? A counselor—now that was really bad, bottom of the barrel bad.

Grace came slowly; but grace came. It came in bits. In bits God knew I understood.

I am glad to remember and recall the gentle line of transforming gospel grace that pulled me toward freedom.

Looking back I see the first grace step.  Back then it didn’t seem even close to grace—more like 'a severe mercy' as C.S. Lewis describes. I needed to come to the end of myself, my striving, and my definition of ministry. That was an important beginning.

Grace showed up in my friend and in my husband as they both listened. I know they were crying on the inside with me and for me while my tears visibly soaked every available tissue. Even in the midst of my pain, I recognized the grace of their presence.

The next evening grace showed up through the story of another friend, a friend I highly respected. We were walking to the banquet together lingering behind the rest. My mask was firmly secured; she knew not of my tears the night before. She just happened to mention the counselor she was talking with. I’m sure she must have noticed my jaw fall open. My friend, the one who had such a vibrant ministry, was talking with a counselor?! Not only did that surprise—no, shock, more importantly God used her words to put a crack in my belief about counselors and those who need to talk with them. A BIG grace.

Then grace slowed; I needed time to live this chapter, to calm my heart, to be ready for the next. That two year hiatus prepared me. 

God’s love and care, his grace, showed up in an unexpected way. I was ready.

As a result of my husband's of burnout and depression, it was suggested that we talk with a counselor. Bill, never wanting to repeat his hard, was eager. I had no problem joining him; it was his problem—not mine.

That two week counseling intensive changed the course of life for us. My perception of counselors radically altered. I am so thankful for those gifted grace-filled friends. Their discernment blessed.

Not only did the calendar ring in a new century that year, those two grace filled weeks rang in a new understanding of the transforming gospel; a new understanding of the meaning of living in an environment of grace. Grace was recognized because of the hard.

“Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God.” Romans 15:2 ESV (Italics mine)

Half Way

Five days ago we passed the half way mark of this 40 day Lenten journey.

I invited you to journey with me praying Psalm 139:23 and 24 each day of Lent.

It was a scary invitation to take up.What would God reveal to me as he searched? What grievous ways might surface? Mirrors often reveal that which we don't wish to see.

By praying these verses, it was an invitation for God to hold his mirror up to my life, to allow me to see what he sees.

He knew I was scared.

So God being God loved me in the way I understood, in the way I needed to hear.

He whispered these words, Sue, I am gentle and lowly in heart and you will find rest for your souls. Ah, a breath of relief. My journal is expanding as I hear this Lent; God is gently dealing. I'm discovering a new rest, a rest for my soul.

It isn't too late. Will you join me and a few others as we journey the last half of Lent?

Because of my invitation I met Kris through Christie. (New friends are gifts from God.) Kris forwarded this
2 1/2 minute youtube video to me. Please take a minute to watch.

"Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts! And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!" Psalm 139:23, 24 ESV

Forgive and Forgive

Vulnerability is risky.

Will they understand? Will they agree? Will my words cause them pause? Will they read and shake their heads, She is hopeless?

Hurt People Hurt People, the 1993 book by Sandra D. Wilson, Ph.D. came to mind when I remembered the incident. My friend challenged me and it hurt. But as I thought about the situation, I realized my friend probably hurt as well—and that hurt was passed on. 

Yes, the words hurt. Truly.

But I perceived holes in the logic; missing links that were never provided. 

I didn’t challenge; I didn’t defend. 

The choice was mine. Push for the whole truth—or trust God to let His truth flow in His timing.

I chose the latter. And I forgave.

It was silent forgiveness—between God and me. Possibly never realized by the forgiven one.

It was real forgiveness—even though words were never voiced.

I forgave—for my sake, to keep me from becoming a victim.

Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? … Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy time seven.” Matthew 18:21, 22.

IF, my friend comes and asks forgiveness, I will forgive again—for my friend’s sake. Forgive and forgive.

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with another, and the blood of Jesus cleanses us from all sin. (I John 1:7)

If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. (I John 1:8)

Several things are happening in my heart:

·       ***When I forgive, I am no longer the victim. I am the beloved child of my heavenly Father seeking to walk in the light; my fellowship with him intact.

·      *** Forgiveness is first between me and God.

·      *** In most circumstances there is a kernel of truth, a place where I need to be forgiven.

·      *** Bringing a forgiveness story into the light has ministered to others. Others who are walking in their own hurt. Others who in some cases cannot ask forgiveness; the offender is dead. No-one wants to be a victim. Forgiveness received cancels victim status.

·     ***  Sometimes reconciliation will never happen. That takes two. Forgiveness does not depend on reconciliation. 

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.                       (I John 1:9)

 

Neurosurgery and DNA

Remember the post about the wind blowing the hospital roof off? 

A few more thoughts from that Valentine Day surgery.

Pain screaming from his left calf—excruciating, limp-creating, life-altering pain.

Finally diagnosed, a severe herniated disc. The nerve supporting the left calf crying for relief from its squished state near the base of his spine.

A sigh of relief with the diagnosis, the problem identified; the cringe of the cure—surgery.  

tools of physical therapy

Then the waiting room, one hour, the predicted two hours, almost three hours and he appears still in blue scrubs. Success.

He tells of seeing the flattened nerve expand before his eyes to its healthy round shape. Amazing. Thankful. Exhaling.

I identify with that flattened nerve.

For too many years that nerve could have pictured the DNA of godliness that was planted in me before I was born calling for relief from its squished state. My God-given genes unable to flow through me to bless others. My wrong belief system kept them impotent.

The cure meant surgery, surgery of my heart and mind. God exposed the problem and prescribed a long regimen of gospel truth. I needed to know God loved me. I needed to believe the righteousness imparted to me, the key to growing into my new creation.

Waiting, waiting, waiting. Gospel surgery like physical surgery requires a willing patient, a skilled

tools of spiritual therapy

practitioner, large doses of proper medications, and in the case of gospel surgery those pills are truth pills. And time. Often even the recuperation involves pain, pain worth the cost. 

Physical surgery and gospel surgery, both gifts from our heavenly Father. Are you in the midst of surgery? I’d love to pray for you. Please stay in touch.

“For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it. Therefore lift your drooping hands and strengthen you weak knees and make straight paths for your feet, so that what is lame may not be put out of joint but rather be healed.” Hebrews 12:11, 12, and 13