Tag: honesty

More Than Words

When I was a little girl, I had grown people in my life make statements like, “A woman shouldn’t be president.  Women are too emotional. I’m a woman; I can’t imagine having to lead a country when I’m on my period.” I, as a child, respected those people, thought they knew more than me, and found myself absorbing and regurgitating those words.

When I was a teenager,  I had grown people in my life make statements like, “A woman shouldn’t be president.  A man should be head of the country,  because man is head of the church and head of the home, so God made men to lead. If there are qualified men, then a man should be in charge.” As a teenager, I respected those people,  thought they knew more than me, and found myself absorbing and regurgitating those words.

In my 20s, I was a headstrong, competent,  capable young woman with a mind for leading, a proven track record for organizing and building teams, and a vision for ministry.  Yet I was still internalizing, rationalizing, and regurgitating faulty, baseless, and harmful ideals about women in leadership.  I had internalized that because I was a woman, my strengths and gifts had been somehow mitigated by my DNA.

But the older I got, the more I realized that in society and in scripture, women are not only equipped for, but appointed to leadership roles. As a wife who has been loved, nurtured, admired, and respected for more than 20 years by a strong, Godly man who has walked by my side and was never threatened by my gifts, I have recognized that women are not only capable and called, but also often the most competent and qualified person to lead. Women successfully plan meals, manage budgets, negotiate domestic peace treaties, and overseee health and wellness, and that is just in their own homes. Many times that is on top of their full-time careers.

Those people who said those things when I was a little girl were wrong. Categorically,  scientifically,  they were wrong. A woman’s period is not a hinderance to anything other than her wallet due to all the clothes she ruined and the pads/tampons she had to buy…and pay taxes on <<insert eyeroll here>>.

Those people who tried to teach me about women in the church were wrong too. We don’t have to split hairs about women’s roles in ministry.  That isn’t what this is about. This is about acknowledgment that we have to do better about the messages we tell young people.  I was told by too many people that my leadership gifts should only go so far and should be kept in check because it would lead to a spirit of rebellion against male authority.  We have to do better.

It is a phenomenal achievement that a woman will be Vice President.  This isn’t a political post. Regardless of where you are on the political spectrum, this is a phenomenal accomplishment. Because women are equipped to lead. Women are called to lead. Women are capable of leading. And women are, very often, the most qualified for such a time as this. What makes women unique from men also may provide exactly what is needed in a church, organization, business, or nation to find success. To find solutions. To find hope and healing.

Don’t be afraid to tell boys and girls that it’s a great accomplishment that a woman is in charge. In spite of all the messages she has been told, she has risen to the top. Be bold. Elevate this moment regarding the VP even if you don’t agree with her politics. The messages you speak now matter.

Hangin’ Tough

Life. Is. Hard. Let’s be honest, there is nothing fun about pain, heartache, struggles, or challenging circumstances. Nobody wakes up in the morning hoping that the bottom is going to fall out. And when things are most difficult, I find myself looking at the lives of others’ that seem much more attractive than my own. Or I feel disappointed that I haven’t gotten where I’d hoped to be when it seems like everyone else has.

But no matter how green someone’s pasture may be, it didn’t get that way by sunshine and pixie dust. I mean, sunshine is important, but so is rain.

…And so is a good tractor.
…And a good hoe.
…And sun up till sundown, backbreaking sweat and tears.

Work like that is difficult and the last time I checked, Tinkerbell isn’t hanging out in my neighborhood making all things sparkly and beautiful. Yet everyone that I know and love and respect has experienced their share of heartache. Every person has looked tragedy in the face. Every person has had their own insurmountable obstacles in their path. Every. Single. One.

But it is how those difficult situations were worked through that makes people who they are. And even though suffering sucks and none of us want it, the grit that is developed from working through our stuff is actually a vital and integral part of productive and healthy lives.

Sadly, when we go through trials, we are quick to throw ourselves a pity party and look at the blessings and abundance of others without recognizing that those with the greenest pastures likely ploughed through the most manure, if you catch my drift. It’s the tough stuff that builds that abundance. It is the muck and mire that makes us a life that is beautiful. It’s the desperation of our troubles that will sow within us the greatest seasons of growth.

I see you, my friend. I see those parched and dry gardens from a seemingly never-ending drought and the fields that have been trashed by one too many storms. I see the weight of life’s circumstances weighing heavy on your back. I see the disappointment from yet another season of struggle and sadness from things not as you expect. I also see your grit.

Hang tough. Work it out. You have to work it out in order for it to work on you. So grab ahold of it. Wrestle with it. Use your resources and walk through it.

Draw closer to God the Father and as you lean into His Word and His strength, He will build something incredible from your brokeness.

-jewels

what doesn’t kill you…

There is a poster on the wall going into the fieldhouse where I work. It says,

“Pain is only weakness leaving the body.”

I had to pass by it a few times before I really stopped to think about it. I get it. It’s an inspirational quote about enduring pain in order to bring about our strength. And it got me thinking about pain on a bigger level. I started to think about what pain was and wasn’t. And ultimately about personal pain.

pain

/pān/

  1. physical suffering or discomfort caused by illness or injury.

There is something very interesting about pain. What’s interesting is that it’s not the thing. What I mean is that we give pain a lot of focus and attention, but pain is really just a sign of something else.

…It is a signal that something is wrong.

…That a system is failing.

…That there is a malfunction of some sort and it is sending out a distress notice

And for the pain-in-the-butt that it is to deal with, it actually is a helper…without it, we most often would never know there is a problem.

The Kill

But we avoid pain at all cost. In fact, as a culture, we’re obsessed with feeling good and living pain-free. We want all gain, no pain. In truth, and if we’re honest, we can be so single-minded in pursuit of a painless life, that we let it affect our faith as well.

I know personally this has been true for me. I have been walking through a very difficult and painful season. And my first and consistent response has been to kill the pain. Smother it. Move past it. Ignore it. Numb it away.

The result? Not the intended “ridding myself” of the pain, but instead a fair amount of bitterness that the discomfort kept returning…and each time worse than the time before. I have been overcome with feelings of frustration at swallowing the bitter pills of avoidance only to watch it return. And each time without taking a closer look at what was causing it.

Breaking Through

Remember, pain reveals. It points to and exposes. And sometimes it takes a very painful experience or set of experiences to expose a very deep wound or very deeply protected problem. Most often it’s those deepest, hidden issues that keep us from moving forward.

But here is what I found.

What I have found is that I had to experience great pain in order to experience a breakthough. Because sometimes it’s the punch that knocks you out that finally shatters the wall that has been holding you back.

That’s not what I wanted. I don’t think that any of us set out looking for a knock-out punch to land us on our behinds. But sometimes we need to actually feel a pain so deep that we can finally be broken and open enough to see what’s going on deep beneath the surface and deal with it.

God in Brokenness

I have heard it said that in God’s economy, the way up is down. What God is teaching me through my own brokenness it that it is necessary to endure the grave if we are to fully realize the resurrection.

You and I will never experience revival in our lives until we first open up to Him in our brokenness. That is the heart of what we read about in the book of James:

Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you (James 4:8–10).

This is not a message that we are usually excited about hearing. Instead of removing pain, we are told to take it on.

I thought my problem was that I was sad and depressed and needed to find my happy place again. But what I am learning is that I had been living for a long time in a place of self-exaltation and I was desperately in need of some humility and a new reliance upon Him.

My heart has been so broken, but it is through this that I have begun to experience a new awakening of my soul.

My brokenness became the shattering of my self-will and the complete surrender of my will to the will of God. My brokenness began the process of undoing the self-reliance I had been clinging to and correcting my posture before God. And as the walls of control came down and I began to be broken over my pride, I met God in a whole new way. It was only then that my strength of faith began to return and the pain began to ease.

Is anyone else walking through a painful season? It is not an easy one. But my prayer is that I can learn to embrace the painful seasons as necessary to break down strongholds in my life. Just as the way up is down, the way to strength is brokenness. So even now, Lord break me even more.

-jewels

it’s who you know.

I am sitting here, in my living room, listening to the symphony playing throughout the house. It is beautiful music. Sweet and deep. But the music is lost on me. As my family plays their nighttime symphony (read: snoring) I am sitting here awake with my thoughts.

My thoughts today have been consumed with a season of great personal frustration. I mean, I don’t know how else to say it, but I am just frustrated. And sad. And annoyed. But mostly frustrated. There is too much to this personal narrative. Far too much to put into words at 2:15 am, but it all rounds out with one big word: REJECTION.

For some context, over the past 8 months, I have submitted over 30 applications for jobs, had 3 interviews, and have received at least 10 letters of rejection. Apparently I don’t have the right credentials, the right experience, or know the right person. So this is, on the surface, about the overwhelming frustration I am experiencing from not being able to

GET A STINKING JOB!!!!!!!

Sorry I yelled at you. That wasn’t very nice.

But this is also tangled up in deeper stuff of moving halfway across the country, leaving our family and friends, feeling out of place, and still not having a community. So the feeling that seeps down is rejection.

I have never found that word to be so real. Of course I have experienced rejection, but it typically has a way of not making it past my top layer. I can remember so many times of feeling rejected from one thing or another. And there were tears. A great many deep sobs and snotty noses. So don’t get me wrong, I have experienced rejection. But those tears always served to bathe away the residue of those experiences and push me towards what was next.

But what I am walking through right now is so very different. This journey has pushed itself into a much deeper place than I have ever felt it before. My tears have lost their cleansing properties and the rejection seems to have taken up residence in my soul. I want it out.

Tonight as I was laying in bed trying to find sleep and ruminating on all of this junk, these words came softly to mind:

I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth…

Those are the first verses to a chapter in the Bible, Psalm 121, memorized long ago. The chapter is a song of inspiration and motivation and reminder of God’s provision and protection. But something stood out to me as the words came to me. It’s easy to say things to myself or to others who are experiencing difficult stuff like, “God holds the future,” or “God will take care of us,” or “God will help you through it.” And the focus is always on what God will do.

But what is really striking, when I get right down to it, is that I know God. I know God. And more than that, I am not rejected by Him. I lift my eyes to Him and He sees me.

That sounds so cliché and simple and completely church-y to say. But it is a profound reminder to my aching soul that I am connected to the All Powerful. To the Creator of Everything. To the One who holds the stars. And that doesn’t give me a sense that He is going to fix it all or do anything for me. That’s what’s so incredible about this.

I think we always look to God as some genie who’s going to work it out for us. But tonight, I am making no assertion. I don’t believe that having bigger faith or bigger prayers will get me where I am trying to be in the job world. Nor do I believe that calling out to Him is going to magically make friends appear on my doorstep with casseroles and a ready made girls’ night. I just don’t think that’s how it works.

But in simply remembering that I know Him, I am suddenly feeling peace bathe and soothe the sting of rejection. I am connected to the Lord, who made Heaven and Earth. So while my mind struggles through the frustration that is plaguing me in this season, I will put my soul to rest, and hopefully find sleep tonight, with 2 things:

…a reminder that the Lord sees me and knows me….

…and the sounds of my beautiful blessings playing their symphony.

-Jewels

It Cuts Like a Knife.

I just returned home from a trip to the grocery store.  I went to get bread for dinner. Here is what I managed to bring home:

1. Garlic Bread.
2. Blueberry Bagels.
3. Box of Buttermilk Waffles.
4. Loaf of Multigrain Bread.
5. Package of Bakery Cake Slices.

Okay, I did get some eggs, too.  But y’all, I promise you, that cake was not on my list and I didn’t even realize I had it till I was unpacking the grocery bag! Besides, the cake, though, is anyone detecting a theme here?

I won’t lie; I think I’m feeding my feelings a heavy dose of carb-love tonight.  Anyone else do that?  I have had a rough day.  We have had a rough day.  Less than one month into our new lives here in Texas, and we have been dealt our first big blow.  It’s a big one.  Texas-sized, you might say.  We are really feeling it, too.  It’s not like we thought that once we got here everything was going to be smooth sailing.  But this situation sort of showed up unannounced and knocked us off our feet.

I’m not sure what’s worse: living in a state of near-constant frustration and disappointment or riding a high of peace, contentedness, and hope and have a situation come along that disrupts that.  On the one hand, who wants to be constantly frustrated and disappointed and feel as though there is little you can do but accept it and work on your own outlook.  I mean, that’s pretty sucky; let’s be honest.  But when you’re in that space, a big heartbreak is just part of the journey.  You’re used to it.  You’re numb to it.  You are already in coping mode, so you cope.

On the other hand, I cannot think of a feeling worse than the pound of your heart slamming to the ground from a mile high.  But, hey, you were riding high for a moment, so there’s that.

Anyway, here we are.  And I am reminded again just how feeble we are.  I am reminded of how people can let you down over and over.  I am reminded of how we fail others and ourselves more times than we’d like to admit.  I am reminded that we are broken as people.  We make decisions that are based in fear, selfishness, and carelessness and often guise them as “prayerful” ones.  We look to ourselves for insight when we should be looking above.  And when we should be ashamed and remorseful, we rest in our own pride.  I’ve done it.  So it takes one to know one, you see.  But it really hurts to be on the other side of that pain.

This is the point where I am tempted to spit out a bunch of clichés about God and His goodness and faithfulness to us.  You know the ones.  We’ve all heard them before.

God is good; all the time. 

God is faithful to finish what He started. 

What God brought you to, He’ll bring you through. 

And you know what.  They are true.  All of them.  But they are not enough.  Clichés are not enough.

What I am really thinking about tonight is me.  I know God.  But what I’m realizing is that I don’t really know me.  I think I have my eyes on Him.  I think I walk by faith.  I think that I rely on Him.  I am wrong.  I don’t.  And the evidence of that is all over circumstances like the one we are currently experiencing and how deep it cuts.

So tonight, I am soothing this cut with a carb-bandaid and taking a hard look at whether my actions match my words.  I am asking God to dig in even deeper and show me what I’m really made of.  That’s scary because I can see clearly that the more I ask that of Him, the more He does so, and it. is. painful.

I see now that regardless of what has happened, it’s the depth of pain that I am experiencing that is revealing to me where my heart lies.  He is showing me that it is the precise level of pain which shows me just how much I have allowed myself to rely upon anything and everything more than I rely on Him.

Lord, this pain is deep. But use it to give me a deeper strength to let go of anything which captures my heart more than You…
…and also the strength to stop after just one slice of my Walmart cake.

-jewels

desperately seeking…

// speak the truth, even if your voice shakes //

lightstock_313743_small_user_2800281A few days ago, a dear old friend of mine posted an article that immediately got my attention.  It was written about a particular state of affairs within the church.  A tendency to look at the culture we live in and lament, “Sure wish things were like the good ol’ days.  These days we’re going to hell in a hand basket.” Well, those weren’t his exact words, but that was the sentiment.  That we as a church need to stop using fear of the culture and America’s moral decline as a means of spreading the Gospel and actually start living the Gospel.  At least that’s what I took from it.  And I agree. Wholeheartedly. And wish I had written it myself.

Of course, I reposted it, and as things tend to do, a discussion followed on my Facebook wall.  All in all it was interesting and thought provoking and essentially challenging from the standpoint of others putting in their 2 cents and having a healthy discussion.  But the conversation that I had with my husband after reading him some of the comments is what really got me thinking.

I started to think about this blog, in fact.  The fact that it has taken me well over 3 years to restart blogging.

First, I stopped because I really hated how my old blog looked (vanity of all vanities). 

Then I went back to school (I think that was my way of procrastinating from restarting my blog…I earned a degree, though!)

Then I had another kid (again…here with the intentional writing distractions).

Then I went back to school…again (Grad school, you know. Mommy’s gotta be educated too!)

And then you want to know what happened? I started to be afraid.  I started to wonder why I ever started writing in the first place.  I started thinking that there was nothing that I could say that hadn’t already been said (probably still true). I started listening to a seed of doubt deep, down inside that at some point in all the procrastinating had started to grow up.  I started to believe that my voice didn’t matter. And so I would write…but never hit publish.

I know this is the point where I am supposed to tell you that I have had some grand epiphany.  But that part’s not coming.  There is no grand epiphany.  Not really.  There’s just a simple conversation with my husband and a realization that I don’t know it all.  That’s it.  I don’t know all there is to know under the sun.  I don’t know all there is to know about raising kids. I don’t know all there is to know about being married.  I don’t know all there is to know about the Bible and I certainly do not know all there is to know about God.

But I do know Jesus. 

I do know that He is the way, the truth, and the life. Period. 

Me? I get things twisted sometimes.  I love the Church and I love people.  I get frustrated when people complicate things.  I get frustrated when people start making peripheral issues, central.  I get frustrated when my Starbucks isn’t right and a whole host of other things!  I’m not perfect. Not even close.  And I don’t know all there is to know.  But I must write.

God has wired me a particular way.  I work things out as I talk them out…or write them out.  But not knowing everything is scary.  Thinking differently about particular subjects that I used to feel very confident about is scary.  Knowing that others may not agree with me is scary.  I’m not a person who likes to be scared.  But I am a person who likes to write.

And though my voice may shake, I will speak.  And I will be okay with everyone not agreeing with me all the time, or any of the time.  We don’t have to always agree. I am not writing to make you happy (although, if you’ve made it this far, I do thank you for sticking with me!)  So here it is. A blog with my name on it. My blog. In just a moment, I will hit “publish” and that will be scary. But’s that’s okay, too.

I am writing because I must.  I am writing because even if I have nothing to say that hasn’t been said, that’s okay. Someone once said, “Truth is truth regardless of man’s attitude towards it or understanding of it.”  Even if I don’t know everything there is to know, that doesn’t change that there is truth to be known.

So I’m writing to speak truth and I’m writing to seek truth.

Make me to know your ways, O Lord;
    teach me your paths.
Lead me in your truth and teach me,
    for you are the God of my salvation;
    for you I wait all the day long. -Psalm 25:4-5

jewels