On Eventual Lightness

Yesterday I spoke of the big, hairy creature that stalks my unconscious; my biggest life pain. I want to attempt to talk about that without absolutely bearing my inner soul to the blogiverse.

Throughout my Christian walk I've struggled with the idea that I'm one of those Christians who grew up in church. I hear other believers talk about the freedom they got from this thing and that thing. I've always kind of scratched my head on that point for me. I always wondered what it was I was supposed to be free from. I have no addictions or vices outside what is commonplace (like playing Candy Crush or eating junk food). I'm a law abiding citizen.

Everyone has a story. Because I've lived my life, I don't see the things I've walked through as necessarily tough. I've heard many, many stories that are chock-full of way more trauma than I can claim. I praise God that I can say that. I am so grateful daily that He has spared me so much pain in life. I was reminded, however, the other day when I was sharing some highlights of my life with my new friend that I have an authentic claim to some serious dysfunction.

For so long I've taken the high road when it comes to dealing with my upbringing. I chose not to fall victim to some unhealthy family patterns. I absolutely feel that Christ has protected me from those unhealthy things. Again, I praise God daily for that. When I turned over that boulder the other day, though and saw the big, hairy creature I realized something. I realized that my biggest life hurt I've purposefully continued to stuff deep, deep down and I am in bondage to it. I uncovered a serious lack of freedom on my part. It was a crazy realization. I realized that all of my striving for perfection was my coping mechanism to keep the creature stuffed down. Perfection will keep him caged.

Here's the problem..... in order to stand under grace I need to stop striving. I need to release some of my controlling iron grip on how life goes. I think maybe that's why I was able to identify the creature the other day. I've known about him for a very long time but I've never been able to see him clearly for what he is or call his name. Even thinking about what it will take to slay him drops me to my knees and makes me want to cry. (Like actual tears come to my eyes)

The good news is..... Prov. 18:10 - The name of the Lord is a strong tower. The righteous run into it and they are safe. From this too I am safe. The bugger of it all is that I will have to do the work. Yuk! The other good news is that when God walks me through this and the last of the burden is lifted I may well float from place to place because of how light I feel without that burden.

My Roots Are Showing

You may tire of hearing how conversations I've had with people were enlightening to me. To that I say: Deal with it.

I met a new friend last week. I was sharing with her about how I believe we are built for relationships. I believe that's where "Kingdom work" is accomplished. Our world feeds us a steady diet of busy, etc. It's super easy to not bother making connections with people. My belief is that we rob ourselves and rob others of God's healing by closing ourselves off from others.

My friend and I were sharing our lives with one another and quickly discovered a common need we have for feeling safe.

The last several months I've had a new favorite Bible verse:

Proverbs 18:10

New American Standard Bible (NASB)

10 The name of the Lord is a strong tower;
The righteous runs into it and is safe.

If you know me, you know I'm not an overly emotional person (or really emotional at all). I can't tell you the number of times in the past few weeks I have teared up when remembering that verse.

At the Beth Moore conference she shared about standing on grace. She described that further as standing in Christ/on the name of the Lord.  When she said that, Prov. 18:10 came to mind immediately. I'm stubborn (go ahead, chuckle if you know me). I am forever grateful that God doesn't wash His hands of me. Anyway, He started talking to me then about the roots of my safety issue.

In the continuing effort of trying to process what I heard that weekend, the issue of safety has come up. As I said before, I'm good at legalism. I know what that looks like. I find comfort in "following the law". I've been standing on "Good Girl". I'm proud of that. Striving for perfection has provided me with what felt to me like safety. As I'm getting used to my new lens of grace, and I'm seeing things more clearly, I'm realizing that all of that is a sham. Pastor Guy was talking this week about life's purpose. I realized I've been really off base at times in this. He used a similar verse but I'm feeling this one:

Ecclesiastes 2:11

Holman Christian Standard Bible (HCSB)

11 When I considered all that I had accomplished and what I had labored to achieve, I found everything to be futile and a pursuit of the wind. There was nothing to be gained under the sun.

All of my striving for perfection is "pursuit of the wind". How sad it is for me to have to admit my folly. I think though, in admitting it I can stand in that truth and move forward in the right.

I was up in my head the other day turning over rocks as I was considering more carefully my need for safety and had a big realization . I turned over a boulder and was shocked to discover my biggest life pain hiding there. It is a big hairy creature that stalks my unconscious. Very few times have I admitted it's existence to myself. I have never shared it with another human. Though scary, for the first time I recognized it's tie to my need for safety.

I am ever aware of God's hand on my life and His constant drawing of my heart to Him. I will continue to follow, see where it leads me, and report back.

On My New Lens

I've decided that without a doubt this concept of standing under grace has caused the single biggest shift of how I live out my faith EVER... like in my entire walk with Christ! I never grasped how fully enslaved to the law I was living.

I got my first pair of glasses when I was 2. Trauma to my head during the process of being born caused damage to my vision. Anyway... every couple of years I had to go back to the eye doctor to make sure I was wearing the correct strength of lenses for my growing eyeballs. I always dreaded that appointment. I really don't know how many times my prescription changed. I didn't keep a tally. What I can tell you is that I hated getting new lenses. I remember clearly leaving the Optical Shop with new glasses. They always felt awkward on my face and more often than not were really blurry until I got used to them.

I feel as if I'm looking at life now through a new lens of grace. I gotta say... it's different. It is a little blurry. I'm not used to it yet. I feel somewhat self-conscious. I feel, though, like it will ultimately provide me the clarity that I have been seeking for a while now.

On Brain Wringage

So... it's fall again. And, as usual, my creativity has peaked. I say every year that I don't know what it is about fall that loosens all of my pent up thoughts. Well, people, they've been loosed.

I've heard several times from songwriters being interviewed that an idea or a melody will come to them and they find themselves scribbling thoughts on napkins, etc. I had one of those really awkward moments this morning in church where my brain began wringing itself out and I quickly had to catch all the thoughts on paper. My hubby guy kept looking over like perhaps I was writing something for him because we are prone to pass notes in church (we're bad, I know). At any rate, I managed to fill up an entire sheet with brain drippings.

I said in a my last post that I feel like a caged animal that has been released. I spoke there about those animals needing a jolt to remind them of what they are and that they are free to be what they are created to be. In the past couple of weeks I do feel like God has "kicked my cage". I can think of four specific conversations with friends where God spoke into my heart.

A song came to mind by Jason Gray called Remind Me Who I Am.  There's a line that says "In the loneliest places, when I can't remember what grace is, Tell me once again who I am to You".    I feel like HE has. And, I remember that I really like who I am. I find it very sad that I allow myself to get caught in "stinkin' thinkin" and start to believe that I'm somehow less than and that God can't use me. I know better.

As I sit here and I look at the paper from church this morning with the greasy brain drippings, I realize the thoughts, though related, aren't necessarily sequential or cohesive. So, I will use them to craft a few different posts. Yay! Blog inspiration.

Are You Kidding Me???

I wrote 2 different blogs just now and erased both of them.

I have SO MUCH on my heart and mind. It's all good stuff.

Last weekend I was introduced to a concept by Beth Moore (God's instrument if there ever was one). The other 2 blogs were my attempts to summarize what I heard. It can't be done.

One of my favorite parts of life as a Christian is being able to spot God's golden thread that I believe links us to one another and to Him. I went to lunch today with a friend of mine. We chatted about all kinds of stuff. I left there so "high on Christ" that I couldn't stop smiling and praising Him.

I went walking with another of my friends this week. I was sharing with her about how I used to feel really solid about my "giftedness" and how I fit in "The Kingdom". Then at some point I began to question all of that. I felt suddenly ineffective and of no value.

Beth talked about God's grace last weekend. She came at it from an odd perspective. She spoke mostly about making a choice between standing under the law or standing under grace. It absolutely shook my foundations. I will shamefully admit that I'm much more comfortable standing under the law because I'm good at legalism. I know what that life is supposed to look like. I'm not sure I know how to just be loved by God without offering my filthy-rags righteousness to Him.

The analogy that came to mind last weekend was that of an injured animal. The animal is captured and taken care of with the intent to set it free. Oftentimes when the caregivers try to release those animals they seem to not want to leave. They have to be jolted to be reminded of what they are. They have to be reminded that they are free to go be what they were created to be.  I feel like I've been in captivity to "lawful living". Though I get that I need to stand under God's grace... I can't fully grasp what that means. Right now I feel like the animal that has been released but is just unsure what to do.

She talked also about "obedient faith". She DID NOT say go live like the world.  I spotted the golden thread Sunday morning when the Pastor Guy at church stood up there and took up right where Beth left off. Collectively, the chins of my girlfriends and I that went hit the floor. Our Pastor Guy had no idea what she talked about. Anyway.. he talked about freedom from the law and what that looks like. He also addressed "obedient faith".  

WUT?! FOR REALZ!!!

What really makes it all crazy to me is that, while we were waiting in line to get into the arena on Saturday, Romans 6:1 just came up in conversation. We were not believing that Beth started right there. And then for Pastor Guy to drive it home... Let me tell ya.... He has my attention.

All week random thoughts from the past year about "how I fit" came flooding back. Conversations that I've had all week have brought all the puzzle pieces to the table. And oh how I love a puzzle!

I feel like I've been reminded of "how I fit". Now I'm working on what to do with that. Oh how I want to run back under the law. This has been my thought all week:   If I choose to remain in captivity, to not claim the freedom that came with my salvation, to stand under the law...... I CANNOT fulfill God's calling on me. God's calling requires HIS supernatural provision that I can only find when I'm standing under grace.   **Mind Blown**

Buggin'

Since I'm on the topic of bugs....and porch sittin'. Hubby Guy and I have been enjoying a new-found sport.

Stink bugs are drawn to one particular screen on the porch. They all seem to end up there. They walk back and forth over and over again.

Hubby Guy had the idea that we should paint little numbers on them with a Sharpie or a paint marker and he could call the races like a baseball announcer. Doesn't that sound entertaining?

On Bug Nostalgia

When Hubby Guy and I were dating we used to sit around for literally hours and talk about stuff.  By the time we got married I felt like I had surely heard all of the best stories. Well, lately we've been spending a good bit of time chillin' on the porch. As is our custom, we sit around and talk about stuff. Well the other day I heard a new story!!

The above little trike ridin' hot shot is my Hubby Guy when he was little. By all accounts he was your classic, all-american, cowboys and indians, baseball playin', up-to-no-good boy. For the record, he hasn't strayed too far from that. :)  Anyway...

We were talking about this summer's forecasted cicada swarm. I was unaware that cicadas swarm every 17 years. Hubby Guy apparently knows full well. I found out that Hubby Guy's father hates cicadas. It remains unclear why exactly he hates them. So... one summer when Hubby Guy was 9 or 10 his father agreed to pay him a penny or nickel per carcass for him to hunt them down and end their little lives with his BB gun. All day while his dad was at work he would do his thing and line up their little carcasses on the sidewalk. When his dad got home he would pay up. 

Before you get all weird about him hunting bugs......

they are pretty big and gross..... and he was a kid.......who really needed money for bubble gum and soda.  

For whatever reason, picturing what that must've looked like cracks me up. 

To this day I still love the sound of cicadas. My grandmother had a grove of trees behind her house. In the summer it always sounded like there were thousands out there. In the evening we would would sit outside and listen to them sing. In the daytime, we would go around and pick abandoned shells off of the trees and then count them. Those were good times.

Hopefully this year's swarm will stay away from Hubby Guy's dad and some will come here to Harrisonburg and sing to me.