Baked Blessings

“Hey, Deidra, how are you all doing?” Really? You think you have a right to talk to me? How do you think I am? You single-handedly destroyed my world – I'm fan-frickin’-tastic! Somehow, “I’m fine, thanks, how are you? Good to see you,” managed its way out instead. I didn’t know I was still so angry.

By some miracle, I’ve only seen her one other time in the 15 months since that day. We passed each other – I gave her a smile, a free gift she didn’t deserve.  But today she’s everywhere. Every aisle I go down, I find her there.  It’s all I can do to keep it together, to eek out fake smiles and pretend-like-I-care glances as we pass. And then, surrounded by fluffy white, healthy wheat, buns of all shapes and sizes, she has the audacity to speak.

I don’t understand how she can even think she has any right to say anything to me, much less to ask how I am doing, this one who in the span of five minutes took away every shred of self-confidence I had managed to build over the course of 37 years. Does she all of the sudden have a conscience?

Whatever. I’m not wasting my time on this.

Fast-forward two days. Here I sit under the heaviest conviction ever.

Maybe she’s sorry, maybe she’s not. Maybe that was her feeble attempt at righting a wrong, maybe not. Maybe she needs grace – His grace – the grace I need and don’t deserve either, the grace I was unwilling to give.

I’ve been praying for her. I’ve been praying for me. I messed up. I didn’t feel like I owed her, but really, I do. I owe her forgiveness. I owe her a second chance.  I owe myself freedom from the pain of that day.

It was really a blessing I saw her there –  in the midst of those baked goods –  that she had the courage to speak. For in that moment I was given the opportunity, once again, to see my need, her need – our need – for His grace and redemption, His unconditional gift of forgiveness.

For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins. – Matthew 6:14-15 (NIV)

Let Down Your Nets

Simon answered, “Master, we’ve worked hard all night and haven’t caught anything. But because you say so, I will let down the nets. – Luke 5:5 (NIV)

Luke 5:1-11

True fishermen are tenacious, optimistic, and resilient; they refuse to accept defeat. Lured by stories of the big one, hooked on the belief that if they stay long enough and work hard they will make the catch of a lifetime, they come back day after day.

They never stop working, these fishermen. Even on days slow with heat and during nights drowned in rain, their hands are busy preparing for the catch, repairing nets and setting lines. Such a faith they have: what is not good today will be better tomorrow; if I set it, they will come – it’s only a matter of time. Not satisfied with mediocrity and discontented with average, they wait, toil, and dream for the promise of abundance, the assurance that the illusive will one day be their prize.

Even after darkness hard-fought and work all for naught, Peter was willing to try once more. He listened to a Teacher, one who he thought knew nothing of fish and boats and seas, and launched out into deep – into waters unexplored. He acted, obeying this Man, the Creator of fish, in spite of his previous failure.

Will you redirect your efforts in response to His word? Will you launch out into the deep, failure fresh, mind exhausted, heart torn? Will you believe, in spite of your past effort, that this time will be different, that He has the catch waiting for you?

God knows where your fish are. He knows the night’s been long, the work’s been hard, the effort it takes to believe. He has the supply – net-breaking, boat-sinking abundance – ready for you. It’s time to go get it. All you have to do is respond.

Launch out once more, believe in the One who’s in charge of it all. Try it His way. Sometimes He calls us to places further, deeper than we have been willing to go before, but because of past hurt or failure we have been scared, feeling unworthy to try again.

He has a plan. He knows what’s out there.  His best lies just beneath the surface of those mysterious waters we’ve been afraid to navigate. He’s in the boat with you. Don’t give up. Because He says so, let down your nets.

Write to Restore: I Died at a Funeral Home

Every Thursday I write to restore, sharing parts of my experience with depression and eating disorder with the hopes that someone will read it and be able to help recognize and understand the inner workings of these painful diseases and be able to help themselves or someone they love. Today’s post is rather lengthy, but in it I explain how it all began.

I am often asked how it all got started – “Did you just start throwing up one day?” Simply, the answer is both yes and no. My behaviors did seemingly start from nowhere, but the truth is that the groundwork had been laid long before my symptoms ever manifested.

I gave birth three times within 18 months. The first, a son, was still a baby himself when my identical twin daughters came almost two months early in March of 2001. Shortly after their birth I knew something was wrong.

Depression often disguises itself as something else: exhaustion, fatigue, pain – each a symptom, each a condition in its own right. I had no idea I was suffering from post-partum depression. I simply thought I was tired. But as the days, weeks, and months wore on, no matter how much sleep I got, the dark heaviness continued to shroud, casting shadows over every part of my life. I was physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually depleted. Every inch of my existence was drained. I was supposed to be happy, but I could not conjure any feelings of the sort or any feelings at all, for that matter. I functioned but I did not live.

I quickly became lost – in routine, in baby language, in tiny socks and loaded diapers. I had no life outside my existence as a mother, and I was totally overwhelmed. I did not talk about it though. Afraid of my thoughts, scared of my feelings of resentment toward my children, and even more terrified to admit my weakness, I kept my shame hidden deep. How could I tell someone I hated my life? I was supposed to be happy and content with my blessings. What kind of mother was I? Not a good one. Good moms feel love and gratefulness for their children. Good moms desire to be with their children. Good mothers want to be home. But not me; I felt trapped.

Despite losing all of my baby weight plus a few more pounds, I was still overweight. I did not think about it though, not because I was ashamed or unhappy with myself, but because I was so busy with three babies I did not have the luxury of caring what I looked like. An encounter with an old family friend at a relative’s funeral changed all this however, causing me to become acutely aware of my size. This cognizance, coupled with my altered mental state, would prove to be the beginning of my end.

It was early August, and my son was about to turn two. The twins, growing and healthy, were almost five months old. We had settled into a routine and life was just that – a routine. I was going through the motions, lifeless, dazed. In a trance, hypnotized by responsibility, absorbed in a world all my own, I suffered the heaviness that is depression. I put on a happy face, smiling, doting on the children, but there was no mask for the interior, no veneer to wash over my heart, and at night when things were quiet and the children were settled, I sank deeper and deeper inside myself. I prayed, asking God to help me, begging Him to give me relief.

I was dealt the fatal blow at a funeral home. A dear relative had died and we gathered the night before his funeral to pay our respects and honor his legacy. Friends and family members I had not seen for years were there, one of whom changed my life forever. To be honest, I cannot even remember his name now. I cannot see his face or hear his voice, but I vividly remember his gestures and feel those words as they sliced through every part of me. Having said our goodbyes and given our last hugs, we walked through the parking lot. Almost to the car, I was approached by this man I immediately recognized as an old friend.

Stretching his arms wide as if picking up a box much wider than his large frame, he said those revolutionary words, “I almost didn’t recognize you, you’re, well, a lot bigger than you used to be.” It was all I could do to maintain my composure, but I managed to fumble through a goodbye and help pack the kids into the car. I was devastated. Never in my life had any words hurt me so. I choked back tears for the rest of the evening and managed not to cry, even though they would have been a welcome relief. That was the first time I had felt any emotions in some months, and even though they were not good ones, at least I could feel them.

My sadness quickly converted to anger, and after the anger, the voice. At first it was quiet, undemanding, and strangely comforting. “Well, you have put on some weight. Maybe you should consider losing a few pounds – it would probably make you feel better.” And with those words began the mother of all battles, the fight that would nearly destroy my life. I resolved to lose weight, and that determination, coupled with feelings of low self-esteem and a depressed state, proved to be the recipe for disaster.

God Talks in Grocery Stores

“How do you know God’s speaking to you, Mama?” she asks, fiddling fingers, looking down. “I’ve never heard Him talk to me.” And before I can begin my answer, her twin, the more confident, brash blurts out, “God talks to me all the time – I can hear His voice.” “Really?” I say half joking, half serious. “Um, are you really sure it’s God?” “Mama,” she says in frustrated tone while rolling her eyes, “I’m sure it’s Him – I know it is.” “Well, when’s the last time He talked to you then, and what did He say?”

“Remember when we were in the store the other day and that little kid accidentally knocked over all those cans?” I didn’t remember, and why should I? Grocery stores are not the place for God to talk – they’re the place I get frustrated with rude shoppers and check-out girls, the place I feel my lack the most, the place I hate to go. “Well, God told me to help him – the little boy – so I went and picked up the cans for him.”

Maybe He’s not confined to sacred places, church walls. After all, He lives in me. I’m His temple, the place in which He chose to abide. Anywhere I am can be – is – holy, because He is always there. I am not good. I am not righteous. It is simply by His grace that I have the opportunity to choose. Will I choose to accept Him — to listen – even in the middle of the mundane? Will I consecrate myself to His words, His voice in the midst of the profane? His divine meets my everyday and I scarcely even recognize it at the point it happens. Often, it’s only after that I realize how truly present He was – is. He speaks everywhere. We have to make the choice to listen, to act. We can hear Him, even in aisles stacked high with beans and rice.

How often do I truly listen, entertain His desires in the middle of my common and ordinary? Each day is pregnant with potential and purpose – a chance to be His light to at least one. And isn't that what it's really about – just one – the little lost lamb, the small one surrounded by cans, toppled piles of trouble covering the ground all around?

I've put Him in a box high on a shelf reserved for special occasions, when all along He has wanted to come down, be heard in the everyday. I have desecrated that hallowed ground – His divinity in my heart. I haven't seen Him in the piles of laundry, heard Him in the hum of washing machines, but He is there, speaking through the simple, calling me to be thankful in the mundane, asking me to help someone, even if just one, with a kind word, an offer to pick up the cans – the baggage – an invitation to see Him, too.

God, help me hear You, even in the grocery store.

Empty Chairs

Although I’m right on time, it appears I am actually late. Everyone is seated – all the good spots taken – and I scan the room hoping that the open chairs I see are not the only ones available. I don’t want to sit near her. Seeing no other options, I make my way to the table at the back, trying to mentally prepare. I wanted to enjoy myself today, but I can see now that’s not going to happen.

Always dramatic and depressed, she never has anything good to say. There’s always something wrong, and if anyone makes the mistake of asking her how she is doing, that person is trapped for what seems an eternity. She considers proper etiquette and exchange of pleasantries an invitation for therapy. Her countenance, demeanor, and attitude attach to those in close proximity, sucking joy and depleting spirit.

Not truly ready but expecting the worst, I sit down. “Hey, how are you?” I say, pretending to care through my fake smile. Clutching the edge of my chair, I’m already formulating my response and looking for a way of escape: It needs to sound heart-felt, but not gratuitous enough to allow for elaboration. If she goes on for too long, I’ll pretend I need to go the restroom.

Hands folding napkin, eyes shining but sullen, she dejectedly looks into my face. “Fine,” she responds in monotone voice. “You don’t have to sit here if you don’t want to. I’m sure your friends will squeeze you in at their table.” “I’m fine right here,” I say with a smile, but this time it’s not fake, for in the moment she looked into my eyes I saw my own reflection.

I used to be the one surrounded by empty chairs, desperately longing for a friend. I was once depressed, ever-seeking, always lonely. I remember reaching out, hoping and praying someone would care enough to listen – not just hear – if only for a brief moment. Empty chairs were the outward sign of my inner struggle – the manifestation of my greatest fear, and each one stood as a tribute to the oppression that kept me bound. Each one mocked, laughed, and tortured my exhausted soul.

Those surrounded by empty chairs are usually the ones who need us – need Him – most. May we learn to view them not as a warning, but as an opportunity to be light in darkness, hope in desperation, help for the hurting. Just as we may never know what those empty chairs represent, we may never realize the impact filling one of them can have. 

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. ~ Philo

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.  ~ Leo Buscaglia

‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ ~ Matthew 25:40 (NIV)

Be Who You Are

I was scrolling down my twitter feed, minding my own business when I saw it. The generalized statement, targeted at no one in particular, grabbed me by the throat and wouldn’t let go. I got so choked up over it I began having a mini panic attack. “Great, I’m doing it wrong. She’s a prominent blogger – she knows what she’s talking about. I should change my site. What other mistakes am I making that I don’t even realize? I’m a loser. Maybe I shouldn’t be doing this – there are tons of great writers out there – I’ll never be able to compete.”

Then, in the middle of my anxiety-fueled, neurotic tirade, I felt His presence, His peace. That’s her opinion, not the standard, and even if it was, does it really matter? Don’t compare yourself to others. You have your own unique voice, your own style. I need you to be who you are. I need you as much as I need her, just in a different way – for a different purpose.

And He’s right. Who cares if there are elements of my site that are not what “professionals” use? So what that I don’t do things the same way everyone else does? Why am I worried about fitting into a mold that wasn’t made for me? My specific calling hinges on the fact that I am me. If I try to be someone else my purpose is compromised.

Be encouraged today. No one else has your irreplaceable voice or distinctive story. No one else can do exactly what you can the way you can. No one else is specifically designed to reach the people He has prepared for you. He made YOU with others in mind, so be who you are – that’s who He needs you to be.

Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You. – Dr. Seuss

Why are you trying so hard to fit in when you were born to stand out? – Oliver James

Write to Restore: The Rules

Nothing tastes as good as skinny feels – it is impossible to eat and be thin.

The scale never lies.

Thin = strong, healthy, disciplined, beautiful.

Failure = Weakness.

It’s really difficult to understand the mindset and unsettling behaviors of an eating disordered person if you’ve never experienced them or been close to someone who has. This is because the rules only make sense in that world. Lies replace logic, numbers become obsession, and scales are the only measure of true worth – that’s pretty much the bottom line. Everything is black and white, good or bad. It’s all or nothing – a world of absolutes. There is no such thing as a mistake. One weak moment indicates total failure. Rigid guidelines and unattainable standards are used as a method of control.

Where did I get these ideas? When I was my thinnest I was more sick and unhealthy than I’d ever been before or since, yet that’s when people told me how good I looked, how wonderful I was, how strong and disciplined I had become. My delusions were reinforced through the reactions of others. My sense of value was siphoned through the filter of anxiety and depression. My actions were based solely on feeling.

Thin doesn’t always equal beauty, strength, health and resolve. Sometimes it represents dysfunction, control, sickness and self-hatred. No one knew I got my new body by flushing the old one down a toilet and by starving myself to death. Everyone took me at face value, believed my lies – that made it really easy.
I would stop at nothing to achieve the acceptance and praise of others, to feel loved, to feel comfortable in my own skin. I felt that I had nothing to offer. So when my body betrayed me and stopped responding to dieting in the way I felt it should, I started taking extreme measures. If it wouldn’t go down without a fight, I’d beat it into submission. To stop losing weight would be failure and I couldn’t handle that. So, I created the rules.

The rules were safe and comforting; the rules were tyrannical and relentless. Rituals and habits with food became a controlling force in my life – I used them in an attempt to manage the chaos inside. Every decision I made was based on feelings. That’s how it starts – trusting feelings, delusions, and rules that exist only in your own mind, justifying actions that you know deep down are not okay.

What I didn’t know then but now understand: Numbers don’t give you value. Bodies come in all shapes and sizes; some of them aren’t designed to be skinny. There is no way to make up for every mistake you’ve made. The people who truly love you don’t care what you look like. We all need grace, and not only do we have to accept it from Jesus, we have to give it to ourselves. We have to accept that there are things we cannot control and trust God to handle the details. We cannot create order in our chaos, and we mustn’t let emotions rule our lives. Feeling is not fact. We must choose to believe truth no matter how we feel. And what is the truth?

Jesus loves you just the way you are. He made you the way you are on purpose, and He has a plan for you. You are beautiful in His eyes, He is the lover of your soul, and there is nothing that can ever separate you from His love. His standard is the only one that matters. His strength is perfect in your weakness. He is the light and way out of darkness. He will help you if you let Him.

Write to Restore

Although I’ve told the story before, I’ve never really gone into detail about my day-to-day life as a bulimic. It’s embarrassing, it’s gross, and quite frankly some of it is still very painful to talk about. It took me six years to recover, and this year marks the fifth anniversary of my restoration. Not coincidentally, restoration is my OneWord for this year. At first I thought  this word was just for me – that God wanted me to reclaim some things missing in my life and increase my faith by focusing on areas He’s already restored. And while I still believe this, I’ve come to understand that’s only part of the plan.

I must also write to restore. I’ve been selfish. I’ve been ashamed. I’ve been afraid of other people and of myself. I don’t really like for people to know I starved myself all day long and if I ate anything at all I threw it up. It’s embarrassing to explain that I spent more time with a toilet than I did with my husband and children. I don’t enjoy telling people I had no bowel function because I was addicted to laxatives and took more than 30 a day. I don’t like admitting my obsession with numbers and scales – that I weighed myself at least 10 times a day, after every restroom visit, after every exercise session. It’s hard to admit I was close to death, fainting spells and irregular heartbeats an everyday occurrence.

Although I no longer engage in those behaviors, I don’t feel qualified to talk about such things, especially since I still fight weight and self-esteem issues. My battle isn’t fully won, so how can I help others when I still struggle myself? And then I read some statistics:

Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness. There is a large variance in the reported number of deaths caused by eating disorders because those who suffer from them may ultimately die of heart failure, organ failure, malnutrition or suicide, and many times, the medical complications of death are reported instead of the eating disorder that caused them.

An estimated 0.5 to 3.7 percent of women suffer from anorexia nervosa in their lifetime. An estimated 1.1 to 4.2 percent of women have bulimia nervosa in their lifetime. 20% of people suffering from anorexia will prematurely die from complications related to their eating disorder, including suicide and heart problems.
47% of girls in 5th-12th grade reported wanting to lose weight because of magazine pictures.
69% of girls in 5th-12th grade reported that magazine pictures influenced their idea of a perfect body shape.
42% of 1st-3rd grade girls want to be thinner , and 81% of 10 year olds are afraid of being fat.
(Statitistics from National Association of Anorexia Nervosa and Associated Disorders)

People are dying. Little girls are being tricked into thinking they have to look a certain way to be accepted and loved. I must be willing to tell my story, to write the triumph of His love in my life. Not because I enjoy it, not because I want to relive the past, but because someone needs to know. Someone needs to hear that there is no place His hand cannot reach, no sickness He cannot heal, no obstacle He will not overcome to restore us to Himself.

And so, I will write to restore. What about you? Will you keep your experience, your testimony to yourself, or will you share His work in your life? People need to know. Don't sell yourself short. God has a greater purpose for your story.

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. - Genesis 50:20 (NIV)

Firm Foundation

“He’ll grow into them,” everyone says. “He needs a good foundation – he’s going to be really tall.” Only 12-years-old and already wearing the same size shoe as his 6’3” dad, those eleven-and-a-halfs remind me of Ronald McDonald’s big red shoes on his skinny, awkward frame. I know as he keeps growing bigger, taller, and stronger that his “foundation” will match his frame, but right now it seems a bit cumbersome, like there’s more than he could ever need. I have no way of knowing for sure how tall he will turn out to be. When he was little, doctors predicted he’d end up somewhere around 6’5”, but we won’t know for sure until he stops growing, having reached his full potential.

As I think of his shoes – how large they are, how they now seem too much but will one day be just what he needs – I consider my own spiritual foundation. At times I’ve felt like my experiences – the ones that He used to shape me, the ones that form the base of my faith, the ones that became the groundwork on which He constructed my life, my purpose – were too heavy for me to bear. Those painful moments shining Ronald McDonald red beneath the flailing, emaciated spiritual skeleton that once was me were difficult yet stabilizing, weighty yet permitting. For in those shoes, those moments that seemed too much – a far greater foundation than what I could need – I grew taller and stronger than I ever thought possible. In those times so hard He planted me securely, rooted me deeply, and watered my life with His grace.

Big foundations make for large structures. Many experiences and trying times, even those that seem to serve no purpose other than to bring pain, create the foundation of our lives. The substance from which our destiny is formed, the footing from which our potential will grow, these trials serve as an anchor that keep us connected to Him. Times of wind and storm create opportunity and choice. We can stay connected, grow stronger, stretch roots deeper, and secure ourselves to His foundation or we can let go, wither away, dig up all He planted, and detach from His protection and grace.

I will wear my shoes proudly. For those seemingly over-sized, too-much, heavy, awkward moments that form the foundation of my faith were the starting point of His growth in me. I haven’t yet reached my potential – I’m not all He’s created me to be. And even though my foundation appears too big for the spiritual size I am now, I just know that means there’s greater – more growing in my future. My spiritual frame will one day match His strong foundation.

What about you? Do your shoes seem too big, like they don't match your frame, like your foundation is much larger than you will ever be? Dig deep, anchor roots, stretch tall – He's growing you for His purpose. He knows your full potential and He will use you – your foundation – for your good and His glory.

Cashing In

I’ve never been a gambler, but I’ve often wondered what it must feel like to cash in, to turn in the chips gained from nail-biting moments of risk, to redeem the promise of prosperity after a long show-down with the enemy. Cashing in is that perfect moment when potential is converted into palpable resource – when the seemingly intangible becomes realized.

There are cashing-in moments in our spiritual lives – times when chronos becomes kairos – instances in which His perfect purpose is revealed within the confines of the timeline sovereignly designed before the world began. God mapped out our course, planned each of our days before even one of them was lived. But although He is absolute and supremely omniscient, He affords us free will. It is we who must choose the path taken.

Kairos is defined as a passing instant when an opening appears which must be driven through with force if success is to be achieved. God creates moments of opportunity, openings to drive through, significant stages of purpose, and  phases of promise-fulfillment on the timeline of our lives. These are moments of destiny, intervals of work, hours of achievement and redemption – times in which we must choose to pursue, places in which we must decide: collect or redeem – gather the promises and dreams He has given, categorizing, cataloguing, displaying, and storing, or redeem the moment, cashing in His word to obtain the fulfillment of purpose.

Redeeming is active. It requires that we make use of every opportunity for doing good; it demands our trust and action. Redeeming mandates that potential be fulfilled and payment be made, but it cannot come to pass if we stand staring, waiting. We must step in and let go of our investment trusting that He will place His value on our lives, sealing us in that moment, converting His potential and promise into the tangible in our lives.

I will step into my moment. I will cash in on His promise. I will not sit by wondering, waiting, and wishing. He has spoken. I will work actively with Him to achieve His plan for my life. No destiny is achieved without action, no payment paid without investment. I’m standing here now, chips in hand, ready to cash in and accept His divine in my timeline. Will you?

Be very careful, then, how you live – not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore, do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is. – Ephesians 5:15-17 (NIV)

Perception

Judged and criticized,

Open and vulnerable,

Weak and stupid –

This is how I feel.

Feelings aren’t fact

I tell myself

They often distort the truth.

But perception is strong

Whether valid or not,

And forces me, once again,

To choose.

Help me hear

Help me see

Help me believe

I pray,

Your truth is what I need.

Instead of

Perception

Misconception

False-impression

Imperfection

I choose to trust You today.

Full Circle

“Wow,” she says, “Don’t you think it’s interesting that this is the reason you’ve come back to this place?” And right there in the gravel parking lot it hit me: it’s been 14 months since I’ve been here, seen my sweet friend, looked at this building, and for the first time ever my heart didn’t drop into my stomach when I made the turn, my thoughts weren’t filled with fear about the day’s events. I’ve come full circle. God has brought me through that dark tunnel to share His light at the end.

Sitting in the car, best friend right beside, I passed my book through the door into her hands – the one I wrote, the one God gave me, the one birthed from the ashes of this place. And yes, it’s interesting, but even more, it’s divine.

God orchestrated this moment just for me. For in the very place of one of my life’s greatest disappointments, came one of my life’s greatest joys. I made my first book delivery in the parking lot of the place I got fired from. I could have never imagined 14 months ago that in this place once full of pain and rejection I would be brought full circle.

A part of me died here, but a part of me was resurrected here – a greater part, a stronger part, a God-infused part I never knew existed. My real journey, the true purpose of my life started the day I left this place.

God is good. He has a plan. He doesn’t make mistakes. He restores. He brings full circle.

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, the Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good tidings to the poor; He has sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all who mourn, to console those who mourn in Zion, to give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they may be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified. – Isaiah 61:1-3(NKJV)

The Best Remains

When the worst thing happens, the best remains. – Corrie ten Boom

I used to live in the shadows. Some created by me, some created by others, these shades enveloped my whole existence and shrouded me in fear, discouragement, resentment, anger, and depression. It took years for me to learn the truth in that statement – when the worst thing happens, the best remains.

When you’ve been hurt, suffered loss, walked through hell itself and lived to tell about it, it’s often hard to focus on anything other than the pervasive darkness that outlines even the brightest and best moments in your life. Even in the good I always travelled back to those times and places, wishing somehow it could have been different, longing to share the occasion with that special loved one now gone. And then, after soul-searching, crying out to God, years of hard lessons, I started to talk more about the future than the past. I think that’s one of the ways you know you’re recovering – you can envision yourself in a different time, in a different place, in a different mindset. You can see yourself apart from the hurt – you can acknowledge it without it reclaiming ownership of your life.

When the worst thing happens, the best remains. What does that mean? It means that when you’ve done all you can, when you’ve given your all, when you’ve shed your last tear, when you’ve lost all of you, there is nothing left but the best. All the negative, the inability, the doubt is gone. You’ve reached the end of yourself – none of you remains. What is left? The best that lives in you – Jesus (I John 4:4).

It also means that if you’ve experienced the worst, it can only be better in the future. There’s nothing worse than the worst you’ve already endured. And if the best (Jesus) is all that remains in you, then it is by His strength and leading that you will forge ahead into the unknown which cannot be worse because you’ve already lived through that. He is strength in our weakness. He is light in darkness. He is the waymaker. He alone makes survival of the worst possible.

A couple of days ago, I read The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom. It’s not the first time I’ve read it, but I was amazed at how much more I gleaned from it this reading than the last. Maybe it’s because I  have children now, maybe it’s because I’m more mature, maybe it’s because I’ve been in some very difficult places since my last read, or maybe it’s the fact that I’m looking for Him everywhere – I don’t know, but whatever the reasons, God used this book to speak directly to me about some areas in my life.

For those of you who have never heard of Corrie or read the book, I highly recommend it. You can find it here, but for now, I’ll give a very brief synopsis. Corrie and her spinster sister Betsie lived with their father in a small house above their family-owned watch shop in Holland. When Hitler rose to power and began taking over Europe, Corrie and her family became a part of the resistance and harbored Jews in their home, hiding them in a small closet. Eventually Corrie and her family were found out and arrested. Although the Jews they helped survived except for one, Corrie, Betsie, their aged father, and several other family members were arrested and imprisoned, first in Holland and then later in a concentration camp in Germany.

Corrie ten Boom lived through the worst of the worst of the worst, and when she came to the end of herself, she relied on Jesus – the best that remained – to sustain her. I want to challenge you today to focus on the best remains. He lives in you, His strength is made perfect in your weakness, and He started a good work in you that He will finish. His best in you and your future will come to pass. Hold tightly to His promise – your best remains.

 

Enough

The realization of yet another inadequacy floods over my head, soaks me with sad, and puddles around my feet. Drops fall hard, pelting flesh, saturating spirit. Drenched and cold, I crawl into His lap, eyes gushing, heart breaking. “No matter what I have, it’s never enough. I catch up in one place only to get to the next and find no provision. I’m tired of my lack.”

And gently as always, His voice roars with calm, each word wrapping me tighter, each breath making secure:

You don’t have to be enough – I am.

You don’t have to know the answer – I am.

You don’t have to fill the void – I am.

Then I understand it fresh, in a way I never have before. I am sitting in the hand of  I am – the One who holds past, present and future all rolled into one, the One who speaks and empty takes shape, the One who breathes and all life is sustained.

I sit in the very center of all He is, held close. He doesn’t see my lack – it’s covered by His hands – the hands that make something from nothing, the hands pierced to fill every need.

I am covered by His grace – His blood – and that makes me enough.

Possibly to Positively

If people can’t see what God is doing, they stumble all over themselves; but when they attend to what he reveals, they are most blessed. – Proverbs 29:18 (MSG)

Everything in our lives has its own appointed season. Whether good or bad, our circumstances have a specific beginning and a defined end.  Situations are temporary, but many times in the middle of a storm we speak in terms of the eternal, failing to recognize that our troubles are temporary.

God’s word is full of promise. We can find strength, hope, purpose, joy, peace – everything we need through Him. His word keeps us balanced and focused. It is the siderail that keeps us from careening over the edge when life throws us a curve; it is the border that blocks out despair.

God speaks directly to us through His word. The answer for every problem is contained in His book, but sometimes we mishandle situations because we don’t know what He has said about them. We speak contrary to His word because we don’t know what it says. We have forgotten His promises and have focused on the temporary rather than His eternal, unfailing word.

What we do during a time of storm will determine its length and our state when it is over. If we focus on the difficult, the I-don’t-know-how-it-will-ever-work-out moments, the times we want to give up, we will stumble. But, if we focus on His words and promises, His hope and love, we can rest in His assurance that although it is hard, He is with us and this, too, shall pass.

God has spoken His desires for us, but they will not come to pass if we don’t do our part. All the promise, potential, and possibility He has created for our lives is contingent upon our actions.  So many times we expect 100% of His favor and blessing when we are only willing to give him 20% of our lives. We have to be proportionate in our giving. He will only work with what we give Him. He has given us free will and though He has good plans for us, if we do not fully cooperate with Him, we will never receive all He has for us.

God doesn’t change His mind. What He says He will do. We must choose.

Too many times I’ve made the wrong choice, failing to have the possible become a sure thing in my life because I didn’t do my part. I focused on the problem rather than the promise. But, God is a God of second chances. He allows do-overs.

Let’s start fresh this year. Let’s forget what is behind and focus anew on His promises to us. His word has not changed, and His promises are still there for the taking if we will do our part. Commit your all to Him, and you will see the possibilities become absolutes in your life.

Thoughts to Ponder

I've been inspired and challenged by several quotes and Scriptures this week. I'm sharing them with you today in hopes that you'll read them, soak them in, and ponder their truth in your life.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. - 2 Corinthians 1: 3-4 (NIV)

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. - Genesis 50:20 (NIV)

It's not about what it is; it's about what it can become. - Captain Haddock, The Adventures of TinTin

I wonder how many times I've missed God's 'Yes' because I didn't push through someone else's 'No.' - Steven Furtick

Feed your fears and your faith will starve. Feed your faith and your fears will. - Max Lucado

Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God. - Corrie ten Boom

Hold everything in your hands lightly, otherwise it hurts when God pries your fingers open. - Corrie ten Boom

This is what the past is for! Every experience God gives us, every person He puts in our lives is the perfect preparation for the future that only He can see. - Corrie ten Boom

Beginning and End

It’s not about what it is; it’s about what it can become. – Captain Haddock, The Adventures of TinTin

Too many times I see things for what they are rather than considering their potential. Things aren’t always what they seem. As most of you know, I lost my job a little over a year ago. I thought it was the end, and in many ways it was. But, I failed to realize that in order to have a new beginning, there must be an end.

I was headed in (what I now know was) the wrong direction. I was focused on myself and what I wanted – what I thought I deserved. I was concerned about money and things, having put aside my dreams and true passion in order to keep up with those illusive Joneses. I almost sold my soul without even realizing it. I thought I was following and listening to God, but truthfully, I was listening to me more than Him.

Because He is merciful, He stopped me. He didn’t let me ruin the plan for my life. He let me take a long detour, and He allowed me to wander around. It was in that time of drifting I realized He was taking me somewhere else and that He had to take drastic measures to get me off the path I was on, otherwise I would have kept going in the wrong direction.

Sometimes God allows us to go through hard places to get our attention. He ends the journey we’re on not to keep us from His best, but to lead us to it. What we see as an end is His doorway to a new beginning, but often we’re so focused on the conclusion of a thing that we fail to see the new space its absence creates. God is a God of seasons. There’s a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to reap. There’s no new life in spring without the death of winter.

Are you going through a difficult situation right now? Ask God to help you look at it differently. You may be focused on the end when He’s trying to show you a new beginning.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance, a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them, a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing, a time to search and a time to give up, a time to keep and a time to throw away, a time to tear and a time to mend, a time to be silent and a time to speak, a time to love and a time to hate, a time for war and a time for peace. He has made everything beautiful in its time. – Ecclesiastes 3:1-8,11(NIV).

The Address

Day after day of puppy-dog eyes and “Mama, please, please, please!” had taken their toll. I gave in. Not for them, but for me. So that afternoon in smeared, fifth-grade print, the address was placed in my hand. “Her mom said she can come – here’s her address so we can pick her up!” With the buzz of excitement thick in the air, twin tandem voices swirled as I read the note.

I’d met the girl before. A cute little thing with a sweet disposition, I was glad the girls had found her. Very polite, and always mannerly, she seemed a good fit for them. That is, until I read the address. “She’s so excited to be in her new house, Mama, they just got moved in!” “New house,” I thought, “In that neighborhood?”

Forlorn houses with unkempt yards line the dimly lit street. The whole area looks sad and hopeless. Chipped paint, high weeds, broken glass – that’s the state of nearly every house. I’d like to say safety was my primary concern, but I’d be lying. My heart filled with judgment as they ran to knock on the door.

They played for hours and then a break in the noise: “Thanks for letting me come today, I’m having so much fun. Your house is so big and so nice.” With that my heart was changed. Not because of the compliment, but because I realized how much I have to be thankful for.

I don’t really have a big house, and in comparison to many, it’s not that nice either. I’ve complained about it in the past and been jealous of others who have bigger and better. I’ve even been embarrassed to invite friends over. I’ve been ashamed of my own address – the warm, comfortable, enough-for-us, with-running-water, in-a-safe-area home that God has provided us with.

I found out later that her address – the one I judged, the one I scowled at, the one I deemed unworthy – represented a new life for her and her mom. They had escaped from an abusive father/husband and this is what they could afford.

Why does an address matter, anyway? We are not defined by the structures in which we live but by the way we structure our lives. We don’t know the struggle of others, and we often have no clue what their address represents. God, help me to see beyond location, position, and possession. Help me to consider the hidden, the things only You know, and help me bring Your restoration to those who need it most.

Qualified

I’ve never felt good enough. Ever. About anything. Hence my tendency toward over-achievement and my proclivity for depression. I’m not trying to be self-deprecating or elicit sympathy, I’m just stating fact. I’ve always been acutely aware of my faults, shortcomings, and inabilities. To compensate, I’ve worked harder, gone above and beyond, and said yes to everyone all the time. I had to prove myself, not just to others, but to me. Thirty years of living those lies almost took my life through an eating disorder and clinical depression. By God’s grace and over the course of many years I have recovered from those diseases, but my struggle with feelings of inadequacy continues.

Over the past several months, God has been leading me in a new direction – one that requires complete trust and confidence in Him as well as a healthy dose of self-assurance. Not only do I have to believe in His will for me, I have to believe in myself. I must be assured that the words He’s given me are not mine alone, but are meant for others also. I’m having a hard time with it. I’m scared to death. I feel so unqualified and unworthy. I don’t want to let Him down.

And then He spoke to me through the words of another’s blog:

It seems to me the people most qualified to talk about hope are the ones who have been hopeless and lived to tell about it. (Emily Freeman, Chatting at the Sky).

By God’s mercy, I’ve endured a lot of hopeless situations – bankruptcy, miscarriage, death of a parent, mental illness, job loss, addiction, and more – how could I not be qualified to write about those things? I lived them. I survived. I remember His words:

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith – and this is the gift of God – not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. – Ephesians 2:8-10(NIV)

For God’s gifts and His call are irrevocable. – Romans 11:29(NIV)

You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit – fruit that will last... – John 15:16(NIV)

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. – Genesis 50:20(NIV)

There’s a reason He kept me. He picked me on purpose. He helped me so I can help others. He’s prepared the work in advance, given me a call that cannot be rescinded, and has appointed me to this place so that I can bear fruit that will last. Nothing can stop His purpose – no fear, insignificance, lack of platform or popularity, or nay-sayer – nothing can stop it.

My words will probably never reach millions, or even thousands, but they will reach those who God has prepared to receive them. But I must first do my part. People can’t read words that aren’t written and cannot receive hope that isn’t shared. I must trust. I must obey.

Be encouraged today. God has a plan for you – a good plan. It may look scary and you may feel inadequate, but don’t give place to fear. Don’t delay God’s purpose. Step in – He’ll meet you there.

One Word

I’ve seen it everywhere in the Christian blog world, and quite frankly, I didn’t want to participate. You can read all about it here   

Don’t get me wrong, I love the idea and think it could truly be a life-changing experience, but it seems everyone everywhere is involved, and that fact alone made me not want to do it. And then there’s my problem with words. I get bogged down in them sometimes, and how would I choose? Others have picked fabulous words packed with great personal meaning. Where would I even start? I don’t want to choose someone else’s word or come up with something totally lame.

But alas, my excuses were not good enough. The idea kept tugging at my heart, captivating my thoughts. I didn’t choose my word – it chose me. Yesterday I wrote a bit about my battle with and recovery from mental illness. I called the post From Ruin to Restoration, partly because of the New Year’s Day sermon I heard which was a beautiful reminder that although Satan is at work in our lives, and in spite of the fact that we may have battles to fight with him this new year, he will not and cannot win. Christ will reverse the ruin and restore what was lost. God knows all about our struggle and will use it for our good and His glory, even though it may be a long process.

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. – Genesis 50:20 (NIV)

Then I remembered a verse I haven’t thought of in a very long time: And I will restore to you the years that the locust hath eaten... – Joel 2:25a (KJV).What is restoration? It is renewal, revival, or reestablishment; a return of something to a former, original, normal, or unimpaired condition; and restitution of something taken away or lost. Restoration is my word.

We have all, at some point or another, fallen victim to Satan’s attacks and have had things lost or stolen – blessings that are rightfully ours through Christ, possessions He always intended us to have. I want 2012 to be the year I reclaim what has been missing – what was taken from me. Joy, peace, hope, purpose, expectation, security, promise, supply – the list goes on and on. I also want to focus on those areas which have already been restored – those places He has reestablished, those promises fulfilled.

From Ruin to Restoration

I had a nervous break down, psychotic break, mental/emotional collapse – whatever you want to call it – when I was 30 years old. I was severely depressed, had an eating disorder, and was suicidal. My life was in ruins in every possible way. I thought I would never recover. That was almost eight years ago.

As the preacher spoke about Satan’s tactics – how he tries to ruin God’s plan but to this day has been unable to stop it – I thought about my life back then. I remember thinking I would never be whole, renewed. But here I sit today, fully recovered, restored and in my right mind, able to share the story of that painful past. My life was in ruin, but only for a season.

Satan has plans for us. He champions evil, corruption, devastation, interruption, and resistance. He wants to wreck God’s plans for our lives. He wants us to stop fighting. He wants to destroy the new life we’ve been given in Christ. He wants us to think we will never recover from his attacks, that he is all-powerful, and that he is control. But we must remember he’s the father of lies and there is no truth in him. He can only go as far as God allows, and although it may not seem like it, he is on a short leash.

Even when it doesn’t look like God is in control, He is. That’s why we are to walk by faith and not by sight. We don’t see the big picture, we don’t know what the future holds, and often we do not see His hand at work, but even in the most difficult and painful of situations, He is there. We simply have to believe and trust His promise to prosper us and give us future and hope (Jer. 29:11).

We all fight battles. We all get hurt. We all experience pain and unfairness. We all must choose: cling to the One who restores – even when it’s impossible, even when we want to give up, even when it looks like it’s over  – or listen to lies, believe it will never get better, and give up on all the promises we’ve been given. Just because situations do not get resolved in the way we think they should or things don’t go the way we planned does not mean that God will not restore us.

I went through a years-long recovery process, and everyday I had to make the choice to believe, to try. God will reverse the ruin and bring restoration, but if we are to receive it, we must accept His sovereignty in our lives. Satan’s attacks are not permanent, and although we may be damaged, we will not be destroyed. God takes that which Satan meant for our destruction and uses it for our good and His glory.

You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives. – Genesis 50:20 (NIV)

There is no testimony without trial, and no victory without a fight. Don’t give up. Someone needs you – your story, your Hope, your scars – and in spite of past ruin, we will be restored.