I'm so sorry, Papa. Please, will you have mercy on me? I made a big mess of things. I quit worshiping You and started worshiping myself. I thought I knew best; I thought I could solve this one on my own, so I left You out of the mix. But, instead, I just… made a mess.

Papa:

I know, Sweetpea. It's okay, We'll fix it. Nothing is beyond Our ability to redeem.

Me:

Papa? (pause) Why did You create us humans when You knew we would fail so epically so much of the time?

Papa:

Because that's what makes Life so good, so rich. It's that epic failure that allows Us to restore and redeem, and draws you deeper into Our embrace, into the folds of Our enveloping garments of praise. With every epic fail, We restore and renew with Epic Redemption!

Come now; tuck in to Our embrace. Feel Our strength and be renewed. It's okay. Nothing is beyond Our ability to redeem.

**Painter unknown: I nabbed the picture from Emily Hunter McGowin's 2007 post, Sometimes, this is all I can say…

 ^1-2 Long enough, God— you've ignored me long enough.
   I've looked at the back of your head
      long enough. Long enough
   I've carried this ton of trouble,
      lived with a stomach full of pain.
   Long enough my arrogant enemies
      have looked down their noses at me.

 ^3-4 Take a good look at me, God, my God;
      I want to look life in the eye,
   So no enemy can get the best of me
      or laugh when I fall on my face.

 ^5-6 I've thrown myself headlong into your arms—
      I'm celebrating your rescue.
   I'm singing at the top of my lungs,

      I'm so full of answered prayers. (Psalm 13, The Message)

He is able, and He will rescue me. He is able, and He will rescue me.

In this I hope tonight. In this I believe. In this I cling to with all my might.

I need my God to rescue me, for I'm drowning in my own mess and my enemies are watching in delight.

Laughing, poking, kicking me while I'm down. Against them I cannot stand. Not alone.

Jesus, do You hear me? Jesus, will you come? Will I some day see You? Will I someday get to go Home?

He is able, and He will rescue me. He is able, and He will rescue me.

In this I hope tonight. In this I believe. In this I cling to with all my might.

He delights in me, and dances over me all day long. He is enthralled by my beauty and knows every note of my unique song.

Therefore I will hope. I will Hope. I will Hope in Him and no one else. Hope in Him and nothing else. He is able and He will come.

 God's loyal love couldn't have run out,
   his merciful love couldn't have dried up.
They're created new every morning.
   How great your faithfulness!
I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over).
   He's all I've got left.

 God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits,
   to the woman who diligently seeks.
It's a good thing to quietly hope,
   quietly hope for help from God.
It's a good thing when you're young
   to stick it out through the hard times. Lamentations 3:19-27

Last night I went to "Before The Throne" at my church. It was an extended time of worship preceded by a brief teaching. The focus this week was Worship as an Act of Faith. That is, worshiping God for what He is going to do, not just what He has done.

I don't do that so good. I'm great at worshiping Him for who He is and what He's done, but what He's yet to do….? Not so much. Mainly because, in all honesty, I don't really trust that He will do it. So I take the cowardly way out and wait till He does.

Last night, though, I made a decision. A choice. I choose to believe the promises He's given me. I choose to believe for the dreams and hopes and desires He's placed in my heart. Though it take my lifetime, I will worship Him for what He will do. Until He comes through for me or until He tells me to stop, I will worship Him for what He will do.

As we were singing and focusing on God, He gave me this image; put this image in my mind. It was of Him taking out my heart and replacing it with a fresh one — a new, vibrant, strong bright red one. And then He breathed into me, not just over me or on me, but into me. Like CPR. New heart for new breath — or new breath for new heart — like new a wineskin for new wine.

I saw so clearly in that moment that, now, every breath I breathe is from Him. They all come from that one breath He breathed into and over me.

He held me tight in His arms for a while, like a mother holds her crying, hurting toddler. Like my mom always held me when I was crying and hurting. And as if to really drive His love-point home, the band then led us in singing "What a Friend We Have in Jesus," one of my mom's favorite hymns. I couldn't even sing; just stood there and wept. This time not out of missing my mom, though. This time I cried because I felt His love so profoundly – and my mom's love so clearly too. It was as if my mom was standing there holding me tight, caressing me the way she would and whispering that it's all going to be okay. Only I knew it wasn't my mom. It was God.

Then He looked me in the eyes and made it clear to me that I don't stop Him from doing anything He wants to do (I so often fear I've thwarted God's will or desires because of my own failings). He made it so very powerfully clear that I cannot stop Him, thwart Him, or keep His love or His will from invading my life and accomplishing His dreams for me (Romans 8 has been one of His constant words to me the last couple of weeks).

I believe God promises healing, recovery, wholeness. I also believe that God has a job where I can be of service and blessing to someone. But so often that belief gets buried under an avalanche of fear and doubt, worry and waffling. Perhaps the promises don't apply to me… perhaps there's some mark I've got to hit first and maybe I didn't jump high enough, believe hard enough, pray long enough, do enough. I waffle. I doubt. I fear that I'm not good enough.

But last night… I was never more convinced of His promises and His desires, to the core of my being, than I was last night, standing in the Barn before God's Throne, singing and crying out to Him.

One of the worship singers talked about fear; about how God may have us out on a ledge, feet half off hanging out into the air, and the fear we feel when we stare out into that nothingness. Lord do I know that fear! Absolute terror is what I've felt for months now –nearly half a year!

But this worship singer-leader said to us, "whatever it is He's asking you to do, where ever it is He's got you dangling your feet and staring out into the depths. Just step into it. Step off the ledge and into His will, into His arms, into the dark. Just step off."

So this is me stepping off the ledge, into the unknown, into His arms. Believing God for healing and wholeness. Believing God for recovery and redemption of all my crap. Believing God for a job, a place of service with my name on it. And worshiping Him for what He is going to do.

Jesus realized at once that healing power had gone out from him, so he turned around in the crowd and asked,“Who touched my robe?”

His disciples said to him, “Look at this crowd pressing around you. How can you ask, ‘Who touched me?’”

But he kept on looking around to see who had done it.

Then the frightened woman, trembling at the realization of what had
happened to her, came and fell to her knees in front of him and told
him what she had done.

And he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has made you well. Go in peace. Your suffering is over.” — vs 25 – 34

There’s a saying: “act your way into feeling.” For the longest time I didn’t understand that phrase. I thought it encouraged deceit. Over the last year I’ve begun to truly apprehend what it means; I think I get it now.

I may not always feel forgiven; I may not always feel free from shame. But that doesn’t change the fact that I am. I touched the hem of His garment and I have been made whole. That is the Truth that God speaks. I am free. So in those times that the feeling isn’t there, when my emotions belie the Truth of who God says I am, I still need to act “as if” — as if I felt it, as if I am convinced in the depths of my soul it is True. Because the fact is, it is.

I can choose whose voice I listen to; I can choose what I will believe. I never knew that before this year. I don’t have to remain covered, buried, in the shame that has so enveloped me all my life just because I feel shame at this moment. I can choose to believe something different; choose to do something different.

So today I am. Right now I will. I will believe the Truth even though I don’t feel it. I will act my way into feeling.

These Nicole C. Mullins songs have been on my iPod since I got back
from Women of Faith last month. God used them to speak His love and infinite grace to me. They truly tell the story of my life; my shame-filled yet blessed-beyond-measure Life. And God continues to use them as reminders of the Truth of who I am in His eyes; and encourage me to keep acting my way into feeling. I thought I’d pass them along to you today, in case you need encouragement too.

One Touch

Nicole C. Mullen – One Touch from 2nafish on GodTube.

I Know My Redeemer Lives 

Call On Jesus

So [Jesus] replied to the messengers, "Go back and report to John what you
have seen and heard: The blind receive sight, the lame walk, those who
have leprosy are cured, the deaf hear, the dead are raised, and the good news is preached to the poor. Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me."
—Luke 7:22-23.

Is God enough? Is He enough for me regardless of what circumstances I find myself in, what tragedies befall me, what "fate" awaits me in the future?

I've been having panic attacks. Whether they are more physiological than emotional, I cannot say. I'm more prone to them than the average person — my autonomic nervous system is just a little out of whack, so that fight or flight instinct can kick into high gear for no reason. Add stress to the mix and its pretty much a sure bet it'll misfire. —-However, emotions could also be playing a role in this current round…. it's just too hard to tell at the moment.

The nights are the worst. That seems to be when every little terrible fear in my mind comes out to play, dancing in the firelight and casting huge shadows against the walls of my mind. They look like giants ready to swallow me. The later the hour gets, the more they dance, and the larger they look. And I become too terrified to sleep, I cannot focus on anything but their huge shadows dancing all around me. I once had a way to anesthetize myself so I didn't feel the fear of the shadows but I've let go of those old patterns and now must face the Night Monsters alone. It's hard. I'm a coward at heart; I'd rather run from what scares me than face it and shout it down.

God still comes to me when I cry out in fear, despite my struggle knowing who He really is right now. I still experience Him as I have so many times before; seeing/sensing Him — sitting beside me, loving on me, gently swiping His thumb over my forehead, kissing my cheek — and hearing His voice whispering His love to me. Yet I'm so afraid now that whatever I'm seeing and hearing is just my imagination, that I'm just making it up, that I struggle to let myself be comforted by Him. 

Isn't that crazy? I struggle to believe in the God I've been experiencing since a young child — the head-god I talked of earlier — yet I don't have any problem accepting the scary shadows on the wall as completely real. No doubts about nefarious shadows, huge doubts about a God who is so gentle and loving. Insanity.

Is God enough?

I love the story of John the Baptist from Luke 7 because John doubts too. This man, of whom Jesus later says, "I
tell you, among those born of women there is no one greater than
John…" (verse 28), this man who has been set apart by God, heard directly
from God all his adult life, and seen Jesus do miraculous things, doubts Jesus; doubts His identity as the Messiah, the rescuer of his people.

And Jesus doesn't get mad. He doesn't sigh heavily and dramatically
proclaim, 'oh ye of little faith.' Nor does He scold, or reprimand, or
rebuke, or cut off contact. He just answers John; he says, "Yep. I still am the One.
…. no, I'm not coming for you; I'm not rescuing you. And yes, I'm still the One."

I remember first being made aware of Jesus' response to John in Erwin's book, The Barbarian Way. Erwin's main point was that last sentence: "Blessed is the man who does not fall away on account of me."  In Barbarian he points out
that God didn't rescue John from prison, or his fate: being beheaded by
Herod (Matthew 14:1-12). If God didn't rescue John, He may very well not rescue us from our own prisons — joblessness, poverty, homelessness, illness, paralysis, death… pick the struggle of your nightmares. He may not rescue you from it.

It is in that truth that my fears lie. It is also in that truth that lies grab hold of me and keep me trapped in that frightening cave with the dancing shadows.

Here's the thing:

I may not have bought the “Prosperity” Gospel hook, line, and
sinker, but I definitely took the bait and ran with it. I took the part
that says, “if you do _____, God will give you what you want,” bought it and built my life around it.

I don’t
want a big house, or the really fancy cars, I just want safety, and
security, and significance. And I have been chasing these dogs —
desperately trying to jump through all my heart-god’s unseen, unknown hoops in
the process — since I was very small. But God does not promise these things.

He doesn’t promise safety. He doesn’t promise security — except in the fact that we are His and no one can pluck us out of His hand — He doesn’t even promise us a life of significance. So far as I have found, I only see three things He promises us. (1) He will be with us always (Matt 28:20), and (2) we will receive mercy and (3) find grace to help us in our time of need (Hebrews 4:15-16). Everything else is something we can hope for, but He may not choose to give them to us. We know we have Him. Beyond that, we have no idea.

But is God enough?

I have moments of clarity, moments of peace, moments spent wrapped in
unbelievably loving and gentle unseen arms, and in those moments, He is enough. But those powerful, amazing moments seem to be fleeting compared to the times the world comes crashing back in with all its proclamations of doom and what I must have to survive the bleak future ahead, and who I must be to be accepted, to be significant.

But there’s another point that Erwin had in Barbarian Way. It’s a point
I was reminded of today, through another person: God will still be with us in our prisons, in
our deserts, in our joblessness, homelessness, poverty, illness,
paralysis, death; in our nightmares God is still with us and He is still God. He will provide all we need to get through — strength, courage,
bread, encouragement… whatever we need in that moment, God’s grace
will provide so that we can get through it. Together. With God we live.

And, something else I learned today. For the first time I learned what it  means to “glorify God;” to truly bring glory to Him. It is in those nightmare times of our lives, as we cry out even in our pain that God is enough and we will still love Him, still believe in Him, it is in those times that He is most glorified. When we have nothing, when we are in great pain, when we are living our nightmares and yet are still willing to believe that He is enough, He is most glorified.

But is God enough for me?

Here’s the other thing. I’m selfish. I want what I want when I want it and how I want it. I want life on my terms; and I seem to think I know what’s best for me. When God doesn’t come through with what I think is best I decide He’s failed me – or I’ve failed Him so He’s chosen not to act; it’s that whole heart-god thing again… And ultimately I decide He’s not enough; I need more. I need God and…. something else. Pick your “something else.” I seem to pick something different every time. Probably because the last “something else” didn’t work, so I try a new one.

Eight years ago this very month, God asked me this same question: “Am I enough for you? If this is as good as it gets, if this is all there is to life, will you be satisfied with only Me?”

At that time I told Him He wasn’t and I couldn’t, but that I was willing to try; I was open to life with Him alone. “But,” I said, “our relationship has to be The Bomb, and I mean the Absolute Bomb — it has to rock the house! — or I will never survive.”

It seemed as if He heard — and maybe even smiled? — but He didn’t say anything more.

There have been quite a few times since that day that I’ve thought about that conversation, often realizing He has been continually reshaping our relationship, making it more and more The Bomb; deepening it, stretching it wider, growing it, transforming it…. Today was no exception. If my head god, the god of my experiences, really is the True God — and my dearest hope is that he is — than He really has been about proving He can be enough. ‘Cause our relationship rocks the house.

So why am I still so afraid of the dancing shadows on the wall?

John's disciples told him about all these things. Calling two of them, he sent them to the Lord to ask, "Are you the one who was to come, or should we expect someone else?" — Luke  7:18-19

Hypocrite — May 15, 2008 11:56pm

How we live reveals what we truly
believe. And sadly, too often we don’t stop and examine how we live to
know what it is we truly believe. We just continue espousing with our
mouths what our head says we believe, while at the same time shouting
our true convictions from the rooftops with every action we take, every
fear we have, and every reaction we have.

I have been doing a lot of soul-searching, and seeking of Truth
lately; digging deep within to discover what I truly believe at my core
about who God is and what He’s like. I have found myself to be a
hypocrite.

What I “believe” in my head — that is, what I know from years and
years of church-learning, and what I’ve learned from a little less many
years of experiences with God, and convinced my head is true — is not
at all what I am convinced of in my heart. It is not what I live.
Rather, I live something else entirely. I have seen truth this pop up
many times over the last few years, but I finally stopped running and
faced it head on this week.

Deconstructing God — June 3, 2008 10:30pm

I have two gods. I am a pagan; an idolater in a disguise so good I fooled myself.

One god of mine is good, kind, loving; gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love. The other is a tyrant; unforgiving, harsh, cold, distant, aloof. He has lots of rules and hoops to jump through, but he never tells you what they are. You only find out when you violate them and he withdraws his love and his hand of help.

The good god — I tend to think of him as “head” god –is all in my head; I know him there, understand him from all the things I’ve been taught in Sunday School and church. He’s also the one I seem to experience the most of. But he’s not in my heart.

My heart god, he’s the one I believe is the real god; the True god. He’s the one that my actions prove I believe in and worship, because he’s the one I’m most concerned with pleasing — so that he won’t abandon me in my time of need.

This paganism was pointed out to me a couple of years ago, and I sort of saw it, but not really. I mean, I got the fact that I think God is both loving and gracious and compassionate, and at the same time legalistic, unforgiving, and fickle with his love. But it wasn’t until about a month ago that I came face-to-face with the reality of my two incompatible gods.

It really started when I read a book called The Shack. I highly recommend it to those who want their view of God shaken to the core; and strongly discourage it to those who want to stay blissfully ignorant of their own paganism. Oddly enough, the way the writer portrays God is much the way I’ve experienced Him, down to the wit and charm. Yet I found the whole portrayal very disturbing.

It’s one thing for me, with my crazy vivid imagination, to “see” God in this way, it’s quite another for another person to put down in black and white that this is really what God is like. I never realized how much of my own experiences with God I have, in truth, in my heart deemed the workings of my imagination rather than really an encounter with the Living God. But this fact has become painfully obvious over the last couple of months. What do you do when you realize you don’t really believe the dominant relationship in your life really exists? What do you do when that “person” keeps coming back… that illusion keeps inserting itself into your life, your head, even after this realization of not believing?

This crazy journey continued when I undertook the task of sorting out what I really believe about God, and why, and where it came from. And then determine the Truth; ferret out who is the True God — if it is indeed possible to know the Truth. In other words, I am deconstructing my gods so I have room in my heart (and head) for the Real One.

It has been a wild and crazy ride; filled with panic attacks, anger, frustration, fear, confusion, more anger, the uncovering of buried, repressed anger, and many, many tears. I have taken a hard look in the mirror of my soul and realized the depth of my doubt, and the immensity of my own idolatry.

I want God to act the way I want Him to. I want Him to keep me safe
and sound; to provide for my comforts as well as my needs. At the same
time I expect Him to be a harsh task master; to only rescue me in times
of need IF I have jumped through all His preordained, but not
pre-communicated, hoops and rules.

So the way this all plays out is,  I have a crisis of confidence
that I perhaps have not jumped through all the right hoops, and then I
become overwhelmed with fear, terror really, that a horrible future
will befall me.  In other words, I believe I can manipulate God.  I
believe God will do _______ (rescue me, take care of me, provide my
comforts/wants…. fill in the blank) if I do everything He expects.
And if I do NOT do all He expects, He will NOT rescue me. And the proof
that I am a bad Christian, a bad follower of Jesus, will be evidenced
in my complete financial/social/emotional ruin.

I desperately want to believe I can rest in God, that He will catch me. That he will provide whatever I need to get through no matter what happens, even if I don’t get what I think I need, or what I want. I just can’t convince my heart to take the chance.

I
don’t know who, or what,  I’m going to find as I deconstruct god and
search for the True God. I hope it’s close to the one in my head; close
to the god described in The Shack. I hope… All I know is what I’ve got ain’t workin’.

Fired — June 14, 2008 3:35pm

So, I was talking to one of my mentors a couple of weeks ago,
describing my two gods. As I described my heart-god, she quietly said,
“I think you need to fire that god.”

Hmmm, how do you do that?

I don’t know… but I really think I need to. I need to get rid of him. But I don’t know how to get my heart to let go of him.

How do you fire a god your heart still clings to?

Personally, I think everyone should be in a 12-step program… we would all learn what it really means to live, really live life rather than rush and fake and anesthetize our way through it, to trust God and surrender our lives to His will, to make fearless inventories of our own wrongs, rather than all the wrongs of all those around us, and to be willing to go to any lengths to live the Big Life Story God dreams for us to live, rather than the little novellas we write for ourselves. We would recognize that life isn't about getting and having and becoming some kind of perfect. But that it is about relationship and progress; just being less of a jerk today than I was yesterday; less selfish today than yesterday, a little more aware of God's presence today than yesterday, a little closer to Him today than yesterday, and a little more tomorrow than today…

Anyway… this video gave me great encouragement… And so I share it in hopes it will do that same for you. Watch and stand in amazement at what God will do with a willing heart… (PS, the woman in the video is Renee — the reason the founder started TWLOHA, I think — who is talking about what she's learned in her two years of sobriety)

"If God gives such
attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even
seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his
best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not
be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving.
People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things,
but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality,
God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll
find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

"Give
your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get
worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you
deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes." — Matt 6:30-34

Sometimes life just gets away from me. Some of those times I feel like I’m trying to catch a bus that’s already pulling away from the curb. But other times, like this week, I feel like I’m on a roller-coaster. I’m on the ride — not running beside trying to get on — which is good, but the thing is going so fast and looping around so much I can’t focus on anything. Not so good. And even though I’m securely strapped in, I feel very much like I’m going to fall out. Or at least lose everything in my pockets.

Know what I mean?

I used to think the phrase from which I pulled the title of this post was trite and irrelevant. How wrong I was! It’s in times like this week, with work and school and church and my own emotional and spiritual healing and recovery  all clamoring for attention — all needing my focus, my time, my energy — that I learn that the only way I can get through and still maintain my sanity is to live one day at a time. And sometimes it’s one hour at a time; one minute at a time; one second at a time—-trusting God to take care of the minutes, hours, days, even months, to come because I just cannot think that far ahead without going crazy with fear.

It’s hard to surrender control of my future to God. I want to be the Master of My Own Destiny! The Queen of my own Domain! Yet when I look back over my life, I realize that I’m not such a good Master, and an even worse queen (unless we’re talking Drama!); and the Destiny and Domains I chose just aren’t all that. Even so, I struggle with letting go.

I know it’s illusion. I know I can’t really control my destiny or my domain. Oh sure, I can make my plans, and spin my webs, and work-work-work like a dog to make it all work out the way I want. But in then end, it’s all for naught. I cannot control the world, the economy, the government, my church, my friends, my bosses, my co-workers or the dorks on the road. I cannot control anything but me: my responses, my actions, my words, and my thoughts. I cannot control the wind or which way it blows. I can only adjust my sails to catch as much of it as I can and point my boat in the general direction I want to go.

Yet I try. So hard sometimes.

How do I steep my life in God-reality,
God-initiative, God-provisions? How to I surrender control of things I’m so used to blindly insisting I have control over? How do I give my entire attention to what God is doing right now when so many other things are clamoring for my attention? The only way I know how is to surrender one thing at a time and live one day at a time, one minute at a time.

How are you?

Life is crazy. God is good.

‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
Just to take him at his word;
Just to rest upon his promise,
Just to know, "Thus saith the Lord."

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust him!
How I’ve proved him o’er and o’er!
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
O for grace to trust him more!

Words and Music by Louisa Stead

This song has been in my head for days, so I thought I’d put the lyrics up so it could be in yours too (aren’t I sweet!).

This was one of my mom’s favorite hymns. I remember many nights as a child hearing her play it on the piano after I’d gone to bed. She used to say her piano "practice" time — after us kids were in bed and her chores were done for the evening — was her worship time; her private time to worship God with her fingers, with her mind (as she sung the lyrics in her head, or out loud) and with her spirit. I fell asleep many nights to mom’s piano worship, as she played her way through hymns and Bill Gaither songs. I can’t think of a better way to slip into restful sleep. Perhaps that’s why as an adult I so often use music to help me sleep; especially when I’m stressed.

Tonight I’m listening to Casting Crowns sing this old hymn. I’m remembering my mom. But I’m also thinking about my own life. And how God has proved Himself faithful over and over; proved Himself completely, utterly and unconditionally trustworthy. Yet I still struggle to trust Him with pieces of my heart and life. I pray for grace to trust Him more.