On Being Enough - 20 Years Later

"What am I doing?!" I thought as I stared bleakly into my closet. Nothing looked good. I felt ugly. I wanted to cry. I wanted to shop, to find something that would help me feel pretty. Or at least not like a whale. I closed the closet door and sighed deeply. I sat down on my bed wondering why I was doing this. Why I was even contemplating this. I cried out to God.

As I sat there and thought it through, I wrestled to feel the truth - that I am enough. Even being overweight. Even hating everything about my physical appearance. Even with every imperfection that I'm able to name and discuss in excruciating detail. Even when I don't feel like it. I am enough. I don't need to be better or different or more beautiful. I am enough right now. 

Today is my 20th high school reunion. I've been on the fence for weeks about whether I'd go. High school wasn't a good experience for me. I was picked on a lot - even by some teachers. I've never, ever been able to keep my opinion to myself, nor have I been able to fly under the radar. Couple those things with some really hard personal life stuff and I spent a lot of time getting in trouble. I was told - by the principal no less - that I'd never make the honor roll. I was told I'd that I'd never graduate from high school. I was told I was ugly, fat, worthless - the list goes on and on and on. I had friends, but I never knew how to be accepted by them. I was always trying to please or be liked or fit in.

I was even told I probably wouldn't live past the age of 18.

Without God's direct intervention in my life that would have been true. How I lived long enough for God to get hold of me and do some serious work and healing is still the biggest miracle I've ever seen. I know what I was like and where I was headed. And God held on tight as He ordered my days to keep my alive and heal what was so badly broken.

It's so easy to look at social media and think, "Man, they have it all together." But that's not true. No one has it all together. There is pain and challenge in this life, I don't care who you are. As one speaker recently put it, "Social media is a billboard, not a diary." We all tend to post things that are good - the best dinner we've had, shots when we're wearing makeup and have a decent hair day, cute pictures of our kids... It all makes life look dreadfully Utopian. And if we get caught up believing that this is 100% of reality, then we're going to compare ourselves to something that doesn't exist. Though the happy pictures and good meals are true snapshots in time they are not the sum total of time. There's a whole lot of life between pictures and posts that never gets recorded for the world (and, frankly, shouldn't).

I'm not perfect. I wish I had a super cute and sexy outfit, they body to wear it, and a handsome fella on my arm who is madly in love with me. I wish I didn't struggle with insecurity and the occasional ghost that haunts my memories. There is nothing wrong with either of those wishes, but not having a genie to grant them doesn't mean I have to hide or sit still.

I have a story. My story is rich and has all manner of plot twists. There is heartache, rejection, pain, joy, success, failure - all the things that make a story people want to read. I have a purpose - one that is far greater than just about me. I have deep, meaningful relationships that have been forged in the fire of life. I am known. And I am loved. And I am enough.

So from this place of being enough, being okay, I'm going to my reunion. I'm going without a date or what society thinks of as a killer body. I'm going to see people I haven't in a really long time. I'm going to enjoy seeing where other people's stories have taken them. I'm going to rejoice in the fact that I'm still here and can share memories from 20 years ago, my earlier chapters that looked so dark and bleak and without a hero, and enjoy the fact that I am living proof of a merciful God who didn't let my story end there.

Oh... and for the record - I made the honor roll a couple times in high school out of spite because I don't like being told "I can't" and I graduated. I went to college. I have two degrees and graduated with honors. I sent a copy of my Bachelor's degree to the principal who couldn't see what God saw, just to let him know that maybe, just maybe, there are things below the surface that deserve exploring.

Blindsided by Desire

In third grade they test the kids to see whether they will end up placed in the academically gifted classes going forward. Based on the note they sent home a few weeks ago apparently this is a forever designation, all the way through high school. (Also, they really test these kids a lot - and there are no validation and reliability documents sent home for parents to review and consider whether or not the test is even applicable to their kid, but that's a subject for another day.)

Anyway, I never pressure El Kiddo on standardized tests. They are what they are and in some cases they suck. As a matter of fact, I've heard a bunch of stories of how the standardized end-of-grade testing often has wrong answers on it. So when I read the stuff that was sent home letting parents know this was happening I was really surprised by how I felt. I wanted El Kiddo to do well and get placed in the academically gifted stuff in fourth grade.

What in the world?

I try hard to let his life be his life and not put inappropriate expectations on him because it's something I want that ultimately isn't all that important. But this was different. Maybe it's because I was in academically gifted classes... Maybe it's because I see how insanely smart he is... Maybe it's because I want other people to see how smart he is...

Look, there is nothing wrong with being smart. I struggled for a long time to acknowledge that I'm smart. Seriously. But there's being smart and there's wanting other people to see how smart you are... Or in this case - how smart your kid is. Why on earth would I give a crap about whether people see him as smart?

I really had to sit down and think about this. Ultimately what I determined was that it was a pride issue - mine. We have some really tough days here, which is nothing new for those who are parents. This stuff isn't for the faint of heart. Sometimes, because I do this parenting thing alone, I get tired and discouraged. It's lonely business. While I have great support from lots of people, ultimately evening homework is mine to battle through with El Kiddo. I fight bed-time battles alone. I do all the discipline. In fact, I do all the everything when it comes to the adult stuff. I'm the only in-the-moment person he's got and I get the brunt of everything.

When I distilled it all down, I wanted him to be selected because his smarts somehow validate me. While I surely wouldn't have said this out loud, what was playing out in my heart was that if he was selected it validated me as a parent. It validated all the fights, all the struggles, all the tears expended to try to get him not to flunk out of elementary school because he hates to sit still and do work.

And this is the absolutely entirely wrong motivation for seeing him selected. My job isn't to raise a kid who's smart and gets into a special program. My job is to raise a kid who learns what's needed, whether that's got a grade or designation attached or not. My job is to raise a man who loves Jesus (or at least put every bit of kindling possible around his heart in hopes the Holy Spirit will light that kid up). And whether he lands in a gifted class or not, there is no reflection on me. I don't need him to accomplish anything for me to be validated - I'm enough as-is and as God changes me from glory to glory to be like Him.

So, God worked this identity issue out with me. Because He's awesome like that. And it frees me up to love my kiddo more purely because I'm not trying to gain something from my relationship with him. I'm functioning from a place of wholeness and that keeps him from having any unnecessary burdens.

Now, to get him through third grade math without one of us going over the edge... 

The Value of No

I've been in business a long time. Half my life, to be exact. I've seen customers want what they want when they want it. I've seen employers want what they want when they want it. And I've experienced how hard it is to say "no." I struggle with no, in all honesty. I like people to be happy with me and I'm ridiculously driven. I'll keep working, keep going, until I just fall flat.

But that isn't what God wants.

I used to have such a hard time understanding how we were set apart from the world. I never really saw how I was that much different than anyone else, save for the whole no-sex-before-marriage thingy. But as I've gotten older and matured, I've started to see how very different I'm called to be.

I look at work stuff and think, "You know, if you just said no we wouldn't be stuck in a pickle when we can't deliver because it was completely unreasonable to say yes. Or even if we do deliver the toll that delivery takes on our staff because they've killed themselves to meet it. Oh, and then there's the whole if-you-work-a-miracle thing and are successful how you're expected to being a continual miracle worker."

It's all dreadfully unreasonable. I look at it and think, "Sheesh. We all need to get a whole bunch better with that word - no." Then I think about how frustrated I get when my kiddo tells me no. I don't like it. At all. And as I sit here and contemplate all this, I find myself wondering - do I ever get mad when his no is reasonable? Do I ever see his noncompliance in any other way than disobedience?

Truthfully, I don't. I don't like to hear "no" either. Obviously, he's nine so his no's are not always reasonable ("Hey, I need you to take out the trash" shouldn't generally be followed by a no or freak out). But sometimes I wonder if I'm paying attention.

Anyway, the point of all this musing is that I can't really make the world do anything different. But I can dare to push against the grain and be different myself. As I sit here exhausted mentally, feeling overwhelmed by the things I simply can't accomplish quickly, I think, "Jesus never promised me easy. He promised me possible." Even though this certainly isn't a march to martyrdom, I can live in God's rhythm, even if that means the uncomfortable-ness of sitting in the tension of "I wish I could, but I can't."

"No" makes my "yes" more valuable. Even if that's not how the Western world runs. And, while I'm here, I think I'll be a little more cognizant of my kiddo's no-s. Am I teaching him the value of no? It's a good question.

Living Life on Spectrum

I've seen some parents posting recently about walking through diagnosing whether their kids are on the autism spectrum. Until May 2013 there were some discreet disorders, like Asperger's, that could be diagnosed. With the advent of the DSM-5 (the tool used to diagnose mental disorders) everything was rolled into one and now we have Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD). Having walked through this journey myself (as a single parent, no less), I wanted to share some of what I've learned. This isn't exhaustive, and I could probably write for days, but if my experience encourages even one other person, then God has used it well.

Lessons learned hanging out on spectrum

• I am not a failure. Even though I took horrible physical care of myself during pregnancy (there were a lot of variables, including being single long before being divorced), my son's ASD does not mean I'm a failure. It could have happened even if I was awesomely healthy and did everything "right." Even if I failed in how I handled pregnancy, I am not a failure. There is a big distinction here and super important.

• Allow yourself to grieve when you get the diagnosis. We all have hopes and dreams for our kids. When those change, we experience loss. That's okay. You can feel those things. Allow them. Where it goes unhealthy is when you can't let them go and realize that God has another plan. So, allow yourself to feel and grieve. And then let God walk you through healing and into a journey He has for you - for His glory and for your (and your child's) good. 

• It's frigging hard to raise a kid on spectrum. This isn't an easy road, and that's okay. I can't tell you how many tears I've cried and how many prayers I've prayed. What I finally learned to pray, "God, I don't need easy. I need possible. Please get me to possible. I'm okay with hard. I'm okay with really hard. I just need possible." He's faithful. I have possible most of the time. Not easy, but possible.

• 90% of techniques you try will fail. 10% will work. Be really happy with the 10%. I'm pretty sure that most parents actually experience this with kids. We're dealing with a person here. A person we're trying to raise who has a personality of his/her own. In a sinful world we attempt this! For us with kids on spectrum it seems magnified because easy isn't really how it ever works for us. But if we concentrate on the 90%, we'll lose way too much joy, we'll miss God working, and we'll teach our children the way wrong focus.

• Ask for help, look for help, keep asking, and keep looking. Even married couples who have two sets of hands and temperaments and patience levels to assist need help. You need community. We all do - even if our kid isn't on spectrum! Failure to ask for and accept help is pride. I struggled mercilessly with this. I functioned on a "nice to have" versus "need to have" paradigm - if I didn't think something was absolutely necessary I wouldn't ask. Even with the needs I would wait until I was at my wit's end or had tried everything I knew to do. I completely kept people from loving me. And that, friends, is not cool. I am not able to do this by myself - neither are you. God never intended life to be done solo no matter what your situation! I have a great and supportive group of friends and family that I've educated on stuff. We have a cadre of therapists. I was going mad before I asked for help. Really. 

• Do not treat your kids like they have a disability. Look, we all have crap. I struggle with my weight and with food. My son struggles with social stuff, cognition, fine motor, and all that jazz. So what? We live in a fallen world. At least he knows his crap and it has a name. We do not refer to him as being and "Aspie." He has ASD, he is not ASD. Yes, there are needed modifications. Yes, we have to walk this life differently. But he is not his disability. I hold him to a high standard. We modify where needed. We fight through the anxiety, we fight his endless worry with all we have. What this looks like for you will be determined by where your child lands on spectrum. All I can say is don't give up and fight with all you have for your child. They are precious, not only to you, but to our God. 

• Be your child's advocate. Get educated. You need to know the law and what schools have to provide. Some parents homeschool. I can't do that since I'm the sole breadwinner. I fight hard to ensure he gets the appropriate modifications. Organizations like The Autism Society are really helpful. Not only will you learn how to help your kiddo, you'll meet other parents in the same boat, and you'll have tools you can use when you need them. 

• You have an opportunity to cling to Jesus. I've learned more about God and been more matured by Him in the last 9 years than I ever thought possible. Yes, folks with kiddos not on spectrum also can cling to Jesus for many other reasons and I'm not minimizing that. I can say for me that having a child with ASD has been my impetus to hold on tight and cry out lots. And my son sees that - I live what I believe. I don't pretend to always know why. I just know that God is good, and He cares about my feelings. I can hold on to Him and know that everything is for His glory and for my good. For my kiddo's good, too!!! 

Again, this isn't exhaustive and there are way too many details that if I shared would leave us here FOREVER. And ever. And ever. I hope this helps or blesses someone. This isn't an easy road (really, life isn't an easy road and parenting isn't either, no matter what the situation), but it's possible. 

God makes all things possible. And God makes all things beautiful - He brings beauty from ashes.

Watching God Work

I so want to put into words what I've seen God do this week. I've seen His glory up close and personal. The problem... there are no words. The fullness in my heart is so overwhelming. The worship from my soul defies words. As much as I like to share my heart through words... well there aren't any. 

So, I won't try. I'll just say that I'm overwhelmed by Jesus. I'm overwhelmed at God's mercy in allowing me to be close as He works. 

I know why I need a glorified body before I can look at God's glory full on. In moments like these, when my heart and soul are practically bursting from me after seeing just a glimmer of my Father's hand I already feel as though my physical frame can't handle it. I cannot imagine what it will be like to see Him face to face, to see Him as He is...

So I don't really have any words, but I feel I need to share. I am in awe of God. He is magnificent.   

For such a time as this...

These words have been running through my head a lot the past few days. They come from part of a verse in the book of Esther:

"For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father's house will perish. And who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this?” Esther 4:14 (ESV)

The context is that the Jews are being threatened by an evil dude and Esther has been made queen. Her uncle asks her to go to the king and plead their case. Esther is afraid because if you show up uninvited and the king doesn't grant you mercy, you get killed. The words in verse 14 are those that her uncle relay to her - essentially saying, "Look, we're going to get delivered. You can be part of it or not. Don't you think it's possible that you were put here and now for a reason?"

For such a time as this...

Reading through the Bible shows us that our lives are intentional. God planned the days of our lives before we were even formed (Psalm 139:16). He has plans for us (Jeremiah 29:11). He has given us gifts to share within the body of Christ (see 1 Corinthians 12).

Knowing this makes the words, "for such a time as this..." so much deeper to me. Where I am - my job, my church, my group of friends, my interests, everything - was given to me "for such a time as this..."

This helps me sit in the tension of waiting on God. Knowing my life is on purpose, and I was planned for here and now, is comforting. It means I can trust God's timing - and in this moment I am sitting in my calling. Even though I am currently looking toward something specific (counseling), I can be present where I am, wait as the Lord sees fit, and still be able to serve the Lord in deep and meaningful ways right now. God is in the process not just the end result.

I was made - as were you - for such a time as this...

An apology to all the men I know

I'm reading a book on shame. Well, specifically, overcoming shame. It's a good book and much of it resonates with me. The author, Brene Brown - famous for her TED talks - discusses her more than a decade of research on shame. There are a lot of good things in there and I started reading it out of interest and as a source for a project I'm working on with a friend.

I didn't expect God to use a section of a chapter to completely undo me.

But He did.

The section is on how men experience shame. I'd been able to keep an emotional distance from the text, even the parts that resonated with me. But this part? Oh. My. Word. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I saw blatant sin. Sin in our culture with regard to how we treat men, sin with regard to how we acculturate our boys, and - worst of all - sin in my own heart that has helped perpetuate telling men they are not enough.

I was undone. I was (and still am!) grieved.

In Genesis, as part of the curse, God says that the woman's desire will be for the man. Most teachings I've heard and commentaries I've read note that this means that the woman would want to take over the man's place. In case you're wondering how this might manifest, it's evidenced in the song that says, "Anything you can do, I can do better." I didn't really think I felt that way, but God showed me the ugliness in my heart that says something else.

Look, my overall personality limits my ability to be overtly jerky. I'd never in a million years intentionally say something to hurt anyone, men included. But I can tell you that, despite it's rare appearance, it's been in my heart. It's subtle, and it's hidden - and yesterday God pulled it right out into the light.

There is something to be said for men fulfilling the role that God has given them. And yes, it surely seems like a lot of men have absolutely abandoned their responsibilities. However, men are still human. Men still have souls. Men can still feel the sting of hearing - implicitly or explicitly - that they are not enough. And then, when, they believe that, they act from that place. Just like we women do.

So, to the men I know - I'm really sorry. I'm sorry for the sin in my heart that has colored my thoughts at times. I'm sorry for how you've been hurt from a cultural perspective. I'm sorry how you've been hurt when I've not been sensitive.

DISCLAIMER - I know there is so much more to this topic, and so many facets. Just remember that I believe in balance, both for women and men, and I believe in truth. This post is limited in its scope and doesn't reflect how I feel about every possible scenario. If you have questions about where I stand on something I didn't cover here or want to go deeper, please reach out to me and we'll do that!

NEW NAME! The title of the blog has changed to better reflect what these posts are about, and frankly where God is taking me. I hope you continue to read my posts and dialogue with me about the content.

Proud Mama

Today I took my kiddo with me to celebrate the first birthday of a local rescue home that takes in girls who are victims of human trafficking. It was great to celebrate what is happening through the staff and volunteers who are working with girls who have had the unspeakable done to them.

I had explained to El Kiddo that these girls were horribly abused and people really hurt them (I did not explain any more deeply - he got enough to know why I would care). He was indignant that any parent would allow that to happen and that anyone would do that to someone in the first place. At the celebration there was a box where you could write encouragement to the girls. His said, "I hope you get well soon." While I know he doesn't understand what they need to heal from, he understands that healing is needed.

I was thankful he chose to write anything. I have a passionate conviction about helping others and I express that a lot, but I never tell him he has to agree or that he has to do anything. I just involve him in some of what I do and I live it out in front of him. When he took a card to write a note, it was wholly his own doing. I was so proud he cared enough to write something to hurting girls he'd probably never meet.

During the celebration they had a survivor of trafficking speak. As she told her story, I felt my heart aching for her. A beautiful Indian girl, she said, "I thought if I was just White things wouldn't be this way. I thought I would be loved and worth something." After she told her story - and her incredible story of healing in a safe house - she sat down. The celebration closed and El Kiddo grabbed me and said, "Mom, that girl said she didn't feel like she could be loved because of the color of her skin! That is so wrong! God loves her! She is special! I need to tell her!"

I looked at him. His eyes were wide open. It appalled him that she had said that she didn't think she was special. I told him I'd walk over with him so he could say whatever he wanted to... We approached her and he said, "You are special. The color of your skin doesn't matter. God loves you. I want you to know that. I heard you say you didn't think you were special, but that's not true." She thanked him and talked to him for a few minutes. She asked if she could have a hug and he gave her one of his signature bone-crushing hugs (hope she needed that chiropractic realignment...).

My eyes welled up with tears. He was genuinely grieved that she ever felt she was less than. I watched God take hold of his heart and use him to love someone who had experienced immense brokenness. As we left the event he said, "I'm glad we went. No one should be abused. I'm glad we can help."

Tonight I'm the proudest mama on the planet. Not because I've done anything other than provide an open environment where God is central and where I live what I believe. What happens in El Kiddo's heart is between him and Jesus. And when I get glimpses of God at work and see my sweet boy love well and love real... Well, I'm overjoyed. And I pray that my son becomes a man after God's own heart, loving Jesus with all he has, and loving others well - no matter how messy their lives are or have been.

Pressing in when being pressed on

Today is one of those days. You know the kind. Where stress seems to overtake you and you hit your limits of what you can handle. The days where everyone is pissed at you, trying to cover their own butts, and oh-so-willing to copy your line manager on stuff - whether or not you could control any of the outcomes to begin with. It's one of those days where it seems nothing works and then you get the call that what you had planned for later in the week just got a whole lot harder and exponentially increased your workload. It's the kind of day where it all rolls uphill if you're in management and you get to step into the conflict of others to defend or protect or help. It's the kind of day where you hit your upper limit of being able to cope with the stress and you close your door to take deep breaths, or go to your car, or go to Starbucks. Or do all three.

And these days don't happen in a vacuum. No, regular life is happening too. You know, the kind where you drop your crying child off at the before school program and end up with snot on your black suit jacket. The kind where the night before you got to have your first real "birds and bees" conversation with your son who is on the cusp of puberty, all while acting like it's totally normal meanwhile you're totally uncomfortable, praying desperately for God to give you the words, and mourning the loss (to a degree) of your baby - and this is all in one breath.

For me, days like today also make me press in. The unbearable pressure from a day where everything seems to be going wrong and not working and where I know my stress level has moved beyond the limit where I can successfully cope and where I feel like just crying - then I press in. It's times like this I feel my weakness and my frailty. I feel how much I need Jesus, and how much I simply cannot stand under the weight of a challenging world without Him. I feel how much I need His strong arms to pick me up and hold me close. I can press in to Him.

And because He is limitless He can hold me up and help me walk forward no matter how beaten and bruised I feel I am.

So I take five minutes, and deep breaths, and for a moment I let myself feel the closeness of Jesus. A few tears escape and drop onto the keyboard while I just exhale, deeply thankful that when I feel like I can't stand up under the pressure, I can press in. Today, I'm a weary traveler. I'm also the daughter of a great God. So life presses on and I press in.

²⁸ Have you not known? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He does not faint or grow weary;
    his understanding is unsearchable.
²⁹ He gives power to the faint,
    and to him who has no might he increases strength.
³⁰ Even youths shall faint and be weary,
    and young men shall fall exhausted;
³¹ but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength;
    they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
they shall run and not be weary;
    they shall walk and not faint.

Isaiah 40:28-31 (ESV)

New Life Where It's Least Expected

I failed.

As a mom.

As a generally organized individual.

I forgot to sign my son up for before and after school care. Now it's full. In three days he starts school and I have few options. With him being on the autism spectrum sudden changes are hard enough. Sudden changes that don't have an easy resolution are devastating. In this week of transition I threw in another one through my own lack of organization. I let him down as it relates to his routine. I let him down at a grade transition. I just plain let him down.

And, I'll confess, I'm having some tough moments, too. I know that we'll figure something out. We always do. We're survivors. Somehow, we will make this work. I'll find something, we'll walk through it, and it will be okay.

And then I cry, not knowing how this will work out and heartbroken because I've caused my son more challenges. Yeah, stuff happens in life and sometimes I even orchestrate change so he can grow in this area. But I'm also so cognizant of his anxiety, his need to understand, and I try so hard to only make beneficial changes. And this surely doesn't feel like one.

In the midst of scrambling to figure it out I've been crying out to God. I really have no other place to take what I feel. He's the only one who can bear the brunt of my stress and still love me as I flail and freak out and try to trust. Yes, we've been in precarious spots before. He always provides. So, in the middle of my distress I did what all people do - went to get Thai takeout.

Okay, maybe no one else does that. But I have no dinner-making materials so it's a takeout night. Besides, I find curry comforting.

As I came back in my house, I looked down that the attempts I have on my front porch at growing plants. Two pots are doing well. One pot is dead.

Well, I thought it was dead.

As I surveyed my "garden" I saw what appeared to be little shoots coming out of the soil. The closer I looked I could see it - there was new life. In this plant that I thought had no hope there was new life.

Peace flooded me as I thought about what Jesus says about new life. He brings beauty from ashes - even ashes I helped to create. And that brings me peace. It brings me peace to know He can (and does) redeem anything. He loves both my son and me more than I could eve hope to. He is with us. He will bring new life.

I walked into the house, set down my Thai food, and just thanked Him. I am no closer to resolution than I was before I left. I'm no less sad. But I am at peace. Even in the moments where holding on to who God is seems nearly impossible, He shows up. He transcends my mistakes and failures and loves me (and my son!) with an unbridled love that I can't even begin to fully fathom. He is here.

Swallowing Poison

"For false christs and false prophets will rise and show signs and wonders to deceive, if possible, even the elect." Mark 13:32 (NKJV)

When Jesus made this statement, which is also repeated in Matthew's gospel, He was telling His disciples what to watch for in the end times. Without getting too deep into eschatology, I think this is a sober warning for all believers whether we believe this is the end times or not. 

There has been doctrinal discussion and debates since the beginning of the church (see Acts 15 where Paul takes up the discussion of circumcision for salvation with the crew in Jerusalem). Sometimes the debate and discussion are good and help us all to think more clearly.

Where things go awry is when heresy is introduced. Outright heresy is easy to spot, but often that's not how it gets in. The person espousing the heresy coats it in things that are truth and uses words that our flesh likes to hear. The information makes us think, and it sounds good, and there is truth... The heresy becomes difficult to spot. 

I am all for reading many ideas from many people, taking in the good and discarding the bad, but if Mark 13:32 is correct, then I need to be incredibly careful. If the attempt is to deceive even the elect it means that whatever is being taught has to be palatable to believers. It means I'm vulnerable. If Jeremiah 17:9 says my heart is desperately wicked and I don't even know how wicked, then this warning is one I should heed all the more. 

Heresy is, plain and simple, poison. It draws you away from Jesus. When you coat heresy in truth and words that are palatable and soothing it is akin to wrapping that poison in sugar. The outside is fine, just sugar after all... but the inside? Well, it's deadly. 

Our enemy is like a roaring lion and he will take out whomever he can, whenever he can. We are called to be vigilant (1 Peter 5:8). In this day and age where information flows more freely than water, and eloquent ideas are given that seem so good and pleasing, we better be watching - we better be vigilant. We better be relying on the Holy Spirit for discernment. If we aren't, we are opening ourselves up to be deceived... even if we are the elect.

There is a way that seems right to a man, But its end is the way of death. (Proverbs 14:12, NKJV)

Be careful little eyes what you see... be careful little ears what you hear... be careful little heart what you believe...

Souls Knit Together

I had the occasion early this morning, before work, to have coffee with my very best friend. This woman and I have lived some life together in the past decade plus. We've been through births, deaths, growth, joy, pain, and a myriad of other things side by side. She has seen me at my best and she's seen me at my shockingly worst. She's seen me argue with God, ignore God, and submit to God. We've been in the messy of life together and I am so thankful.

The time we get to spend together is soul filling. I completely understand 1 Samuel 18:1 (NKJV) where it says, "the soul of Jonathan was knit to the soul of David, and Jonathan loved him as his own soul." This is how I feel about this friend. Through a work of the Holy Spirit our souls are knit together. And I need that, desperately need that. Today was a time of refreshing, a time of drinking deeply from Christ and enjoying each other. It was a time, after a week of travel, headed into work on a day that is very Monday, for which I was desperate. As I left I was reminded of Paul's words to the Philippians (1:3), "I thank my God upon every remembrance of you..." I am so thankful as I negotiate this day where there don't seem to be enough minutes, where more demands my attention than I have time to give, that God provided soul refreshment. He is a good God.

And so, I face this day refreshed and full. And thankful. Oh so thankful.

Being the Odd Woman Out

A friend of mine and I were talking once about being a square peg in a round hole. I tend to feel like this often, especially when I'm outside my comfort zone. He said he likes being the odd man out. I'm not sure I said it directly to him, but I kinda thought he was crazy.

I've been the odd woman out many times. In fact, I've joked that I am, at times, God's personal guinea pig. He puts me in situations that not only foster my growth, but the growth of someone else. These situations are never easy or lightweight. Often, they're life-changing moments. I'm better with this than I used to be, thanks in large part to a gracious God. I've learned that being the odd woman out can be awkward, it can be good, or it can be both. Today, I got both.

I'm at a conference, at which I'll be speaking tomorrow morning. I tripped and fell into this conference. I got a call for abstracts, I had an opinion about the topic, and I provided an abstract. Never in a zillion years did I think that I'd get selected.

I got selected.

It's a conference unlike any I've ever experienced. Most people know each other and have been coming for  years. About two thirds are old enough to be either my parent or my grandparent. I'm much more rock and roll, and these folks are - shall we say - hymnal. My first experience yesterday was that of being met with skepticism and awe. Awe because my presence was so fully unexpected. I was asked several times, "How did you get here?" It wasn't hostile, but genuine curiosity.

I left yesterday genuinely worried about what the next two days may hold. It was kind-of like I was T-Rex and everyone wanted to take a look. Since I suck at keeping a low profile and I'm constantly thinking and wondering (hello - I'm in research!) I was engaging in the sessions in which I participated. So this morning I thought, "Okay, I guess we're going for odd-woman-out awkward for this one."

I was only partly right.

Yes, I'm an anomaly, but to most with whom I've spoken a GOOD anomaly. In the first session today we were talking about medical and pharmaceutical ethics. I asked questions and provided my opinion. Of course, I wasn't the only one! We had some incredible discussion as a group! I moved on to my next session intellectually stimulated with knowledge I can bring back to my day job and to (hopefully!) future counseling practice!

The second session was much more diverse in age and style. I sat next to a dude with "end slavery" on his bracelet. I liked that guy instantly. He also had long hair and was wearing jeans. Anyway, the topic was assessing spirituality in counseling. It was some of my favorite topics combined - research, Jesus, counseling, and theology. I actively participated in that session, and (not gonna lie) was kinda fired up. I wasn't the only one, but I do have my own brand of fired-up-ness. I had the chance to talk with the speakers afterward - they are some incredible minds. Again, I took much back with me for thought and learning.

By the final session of the day, we were talking about pharmaceutical compounding and its risks and what sort of oversight is needed. Before the session, the chair came over and introduced himself to me. He had remembered me from the initial morning session. He thanked me for coming. He thanked me for my questions and my opinions. He was genuinely glad to have me at the conference and in his session. I had three other people come and say the same thing to me. I got to have some amazing, intellectually stimulating conversations about amazing things with some really incredible thinkers and people.

On the way out to my car at today's end I was stopped by a woman who was in the medical sessions with me. She asked me, "How did you get here?" when finding out my affiliation. I smiled and told her my story. We had a great talk about ethics and medicine and research.

Yes, it was awkward to be asked (again) how I got here, but it was good because I am different. I am the odd woman out here, but that's not exactly a bad thing. I've learned so much in the past 24 hours that I'm excited to share with people and that is helping my own personal, spiritual, and professional formation - I'll take being the odd woman out. Like my friend, I may just find out that I like it.

A Full Heart

I recently took my son to The Melting Pot for our occasional "fancy dinner." I do these dinners with him to teach him appropriate manners, to allow him to experience new things, and to just plain have fun and be together. He chose the restaurant after I explained to him what it was. When we got there he was such a gentleman. He spoke appropriately to the waitress, making eye contact (which is HUGE for a child with Asperger's). He allowed me to order the food since he had no idea what most of it was, aside from the salad - he knows his salad because he loves them.

When they made the cheese fondue for the first course table side, his eyes were as big as saucers. He was amazed by the whole thing. He was equally amazed by the fact he got to skewer things and dip them in the cheese and then eat them. Talk about exciting sensory input! He dutifully skewered, dipped, and ate a little of all the things they brought - bread, apples, and veggies. His amazement continued when they brought the salad, then as they brought the entree. When he cooked his first piece of chicken in the broth he had this amazing look of satisfaction and said, "Mom, I cooked this! And it's good!" My heart overflowed with joy watching his joy. And I think he nearly lost a synapse when they brought out a pot of melted dark chocolate with sweet stuff and fruit to dip! He said over and over what a great restaurant it was and how he wanted to go again for his birthday.

As I sat here this morning reflecting on this experience with him, my heart was full. Seeing his joy like that is absolutely the best thing ever! I love watching him have new experiences and try new things, even things that are a little bit scary at first. And I love it despite the great cost I paid (The Melting Pot is not cheap!).

Then it struck me... This is the same type of full heart that God has when I do the same thing. He delights in my joy. He delights in my taking those risks as He leads me (knowing that any risk I take He is ordaining and will care for me). He just plain delights in me. He enjoys watching my amazement and wonder when I see Him act. He enjoys my sense of awe when I connect with His creation and with Him. His heart is full when He watches me, like my heart is full when I watch my son. And He paid a great price to be able to delight in me, much more than I paid to take my son out to "fancy dinner."

Today this brought me to my knees in worship. To know I'm loved and delighted in even more than I can possibly love and delight in my son (after all, I'm not God) is staggering. To know that God paid the greatest price imaginable so He could have this relationship with me is... there just aren't words. I am thankful that God brought me a son so I could see the world to a degree through God's eyes. So I can have my amazement and wonder rekindled as I watch my son live life. So I can get a sense of how deeply God delights in me.

And here's the thing... He feels that way about all of His kids. I'm not the only one. May you and I live each and every day with that knowledge being as tangible as the physical realm around us. May we know how our Father delights in us and may that color our choices in every possible way.

Learning to Live in Rhythm

You know it's pretty darn interesting when you're giving a presentation with a friend about a topic for which you have great passion. It's more interesting when something your co-presenter says during his section resonates in a way that is a little surprising. I knew what he was going to say. We talked through it... But in the moment I heard it live during our presentation it was like God pushed it way down deep.

The idea of that section was about not overdoing life - running yourself ragged and nearly killing yourself to get a given destination. I know that life all too well - I've lived it and it takes a great deal of paying attention to keep me from slipping back into it. And as I heard my friend talk I realized, "Shoot. I'm overdoing it. I've overcommitted. Again. Dangit." I realized I needed to stop and take stock yet again.

And I had to start saying no... Again. I had to look at what I had before me and choose which things would get my attention and which ones could not. And I had to say no to good things. Really good things. With people I dearly love. Ouch. That is such a hard thing for me. I hate saying no to people I care about. I worry they won't understand. I worry they'll be hurt.

Honestly, sometimes I suffer from FOMO - Fear of Missing Out. I want to be there to share experiences. I want to connect deeply with people. But there are only so many hours in the day. I can't possibly do everything I want to do. So, as hard as it is, I have to keep looking at what's on the table and determining who and what will get attention from me.

Thankfully, as I grow God shows me earlier that I'm overcommitting, before I hit raging crazy and burnout. I'm thankful for that as I learn to live my life in His rhythm.

Failing Well

I have serious Type A tendencies. I work really hard and I like to do really well. Unfortunately, I also have perfectionist tendencies. God has been working on that in me quite a bit. Being the merciful God He is, He's allowed me to have good season of mostly successes. Any failures or inconsistencies have been minor.

Until yesterday. Yesterday I had an epic failure. It was entirely my fault and I got called out on it big time.

When "the talk" happened (the one where I was told I messed up) I felt my stomach knot up and the blood drain from my face. I was literally physically ill for a moment. Then there was embarrassment. Embarrassment because it was something I should have known better than to do and allow. Embarrassment because someone who is just getting to know me, someone with whom I have no relational equity, got an impression of me that really doesn't reflect my heart. 

Everything in me hit overdrive, fight-or-flight, and fix-it-at-all-costs mode. My heart was racing. My eyes welled up with tears (thank you Jesus for doors that close!). My mind began racing to fix, fix, fix. Except there was no way to do anything other than say I'm sorry, I'll take care of it. I was told there would be more conversation, but it couldn't happen that day.

Oh, God. What do you mean we can't resolve this RIGHT NOW?! For me, in these situations, I'm much happier at the person I upset figuratively kicking me in the gut, allowing me to make the needed changes, and then moving on. To have to wait even two hours to have a conversation I know is coming is torture to me.

So for the past 24 hours I've been living in this tension.

But remember that merciful God? Within seconds of everything in me going haywire, He reminded me that (a) I will fail and (b) I was still okay. This mistake doesn't affect who I am. I messed up. Yes, it was fairly epic and really visible. But I am still okay. I am still enough. Nothing about who I am changed. I reached out to people who know me well to ask for prayer. My bestie reminded me this was not earth shattering. I took a deep breath... It was time to walk through what God has carefully taught me - about my identity, about Himself, about failing well. So walk I do, even when embarrassment makes me feel like crawling under a rock to hide. I walk forward, fighting back with truth against emotions that want to drag me into the lie. And I trust the Creator of heaven and earth to hold on to me tightly as I experience failing well.

Tragedy Like Tidal Waves

I was getting my nails done this afternoon when news of the bombing in Boston broke. Like many nail salons, the person filing and painting is Asian. As we listened to the news report, I said, "I cannot imagine living in a place where violence like this is commonplace." She agreed and then began to tell me about where she is from - Cambodia. The country is run by a dictator who oppresses the people. He takes foreign aid and never gives it to his people. He takes what he wants, including women, by force. Those who disagree often end up "missing." Those who escape do what they can to help their family. Those who talk too much or post negative things to social media sites while in other countries have bounties placed on their heads. When visiting heads of state come the homeless are rounded up and dropped in the woods. Some never make it back to the city.

As if all this isn't horrific enough, human trafficking is rampant. Poor families sell their daughters into prostitution so they can get money to eat. Others are just stolen and trafficked. The worst story I was told today was of a brothel that specialized in girls as young as five years old. The brothel was finally raided and the little girls still alive were rescued by an international organization. The owners of the brothel were Americans. American men who brought their money, paid the government to look the other way, and exploited little girls. Of course there are plenty of Cambodian men who do the same.

We've all heard these stories on the Internet, at a conference, or some other medium. Those cause me to feel sad. There is something quite different when you hear it from a person who saw it. Who lived there. It's gut wrenching.

I left the salon and cried in my car. People setting off bombs in Boston. People trafficking children in Cambodia. People believing that there is no hope and committing suicide. I don't understand how people can conclude that no evil exists. I look around at this brokenness and wonder when Jesus will come back and make all things new.

And that really is the only thing that will solve these problems. Jesus in lives now and Jesus coming back. He really is the only hope. Maranatha - come Lord Jesus!!

Rocks of Remembrance

Have you ever stumbled across a verse that God used so powerfully in your life it's etched in your very DNA? I have. It happened just tonight. I was writing down a verse I wanted to remember and on the cover of my little index card holder (which is where I put my verses) I saw Joshua 1:9. Man, that jumped right off the cover at me and memories of a significant life event came flooding back. I could remember everything, right down to my emotions, even the smell in the air. 

Joshua 1:9 (ESV) - Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.

God was walking me into a battle and I knew it. I was terrified. He'd been preparing me for months, slowly making me stronger and ready to stand. But still... I had never had lasting victory in that place before. I had always acquiesced again to being controlled. God was so clear that I was to stand my ground; He was with me. Even with my very insides quaking I walked forward in trust. As I stepped forward my throat was dry, my palms were sweaty, and I felt queasy. I was in constant prayer, wrestling myself out of fear and holding onto to truth. The time came. I took a deep breath and steeled myself for whatever was to come...

And I never even opened my mouth. I didn't speak a word. God's favor was upon me and the battle was won by the Lord in instantaneous fashion. In five minutes it was over and I was still standing. 

That day was a rock of remembrance for me. A time point etched in my mind's eye that screams out of God's faithfulness. Joshua 1:9 is part of me and every time I see that scripture I'm reminded of God's goodness and faithfulness.

And that's not my only rock. No. I have so many. Rock after rock, time after time, where God has proven who He is in what seemed like impossible circumstances. And in these moments of remembrance, when things are showered with light and pain and suffering aren't constant companions, I can fall to my knees and thank Him. And in these moments of remembrance, when darkness crushes in and there is no light to find, I can fall to my knees and thank Him.

He is good. In times of joy. In times of sorrow. He is good. Always good. Always showing up. Always, ALWAYS faithful. 

Why I need God to be a God of wrath & justice

Society prefers the loving Jesus who floats around and glitters (as Matt Chandler puts it). I generally prefer to think in terms of love when it comes to my Savior. But let me tell you what - in the last couple days I am glad that while He is a God of love, He is also a God of wrath and justice. From reading articles about popular lingerie maker Victoria's Secret marketing to pre-teen and teen girls to seeing advertising from Ford in India showing women bound and gagged in the car's trunk (supposedly to show how much the trunk could hold - good to know I can kidnap, bind, and gag three scantily clad women and put them in the trunk).

While the brokenness of this world never stops (and gets ever more broken) there are days that it's more noticeable than others. Yesterday was one of those days for me - where what I read seeped deep inside and pain over the state of the world caused my heart to ache and overwhelmed me. It's those days I say "COME LORD JESUS!" and "HOW LONG O, LORD?" And I am thankful that though God wishes none would perish, but all would have eternal life (2 Peter 3:9, NKJV), He is also a God of wrath and justice.

One day both are coming to this broken place and I, for one am glad. Of course, God's wrath is freaking scary. Go read Revelation and tell me it's not like a very bad, scary acid trip - one I do not want to see up close and personal. But I need to know it's there. I need to know that one day this brokenness in the world, this brokenness in me, will all be eradicated. That the King of Kings will speak and out will come a sword that will annihilate evil (Revelation 19:15, 21, NKJV). That those who are exploiting, raping, marginalizing, doing the unspeakable to others will be met with God's justice.

I need a God I can't control, that can't be put in a box. I need a God who is as much wrath and justice as love. If I didn't have that, how on earth could I face the rampant evil of this place? No, I have faith that a better kingdom is coming, that one day every tear will be wiped away and I'll be face-to-face with my loving Father and this brokenness and evil will be a distant memory. That is the God I need, and that - thankfully - is the God I serve.

Let's Talk About Sex...

Whoo, even that title alone can bring controversy.

I grew up in an era where parents didn't necessarily have "the talk" with their kids. Talking about sex with your kids is scary; you don't want to send the wrong message and it's not easy to determine the right words. Also, in the 1980s evangelical climate sex education by parents was something along the lines of "don't do it til you're married." It was made to seem (a) mysterious and off-limits and (b) gross.  Of course, when you hit puberty and are feeling all these things for the first time, you don't really know what to do with it all. Add to that the main societal message that sex is your right with whomever, wherever, and you can come to the conclusion that sex outside of marriage is no big deal. Also, sex is physically pleasurable.

There, I said it. Sex feels good; in the moment it may even be emotionally pleasurable. We are made that way; however, God intends that this pleasure to be experienced only within marriage and many of us choose to ignore that. In the moment it may seem fun and quite harmless, but there is always harm from sin, even when it's not overt like an STD or unplanned pregnancy. There is always an emotional/spiritual toll.

I'll give some of my own experience. I didn't wait for marriage. I thought I had found "Mr. Right." We were "engaged" and after dating for a few months, when I was 17, I gave up "the goods." It wasn't what I thought it would be. It didn't at all fill the gaping hole that was desperate for love. What I ultimately found was shame. I felt guilty as all get out because I knew what I was doing was wrong. I pushed those feelings down because I wanted to feel loved. 

You see, sex was a means to an end - a desperate attempt to feel loved and connected; to be fully known and yet fully loved.

Physical intimacy is a beautiful, God-ordained part of the marriage covenant. Read Song of Songs and tell me it doesn't make you blush! Physical intimacy outside of marriage cheapens something so beautiful.
But even more than cheapening a beautiful gift from God, we will never find the love and connectedness we desperately need outside of God. No man can "complete" me - it's a lie from the pit. I need to be secure in Jesus and His crazy amazing love for me. He fully knows me, and yet fully loves me. He loves me so much He died so we could be together forever. He is my knight in shining armor.

So what's different now? Why would I wait? Do I just hate sex? I would wait because I know I'm worth waiting for. My worth and value are not what I give with my body; my worth and value are in who I am in Jesus. I'm the daughter of a King - the King of Kings, to be exact. I am already fully known and fully loved - I don't need that from a guy.

Look, I'm not a sex hater. In fact, one day I'd like to get remarried and have sex again (SHOCKING!!!). I just want to do it God's way. Jesus made me precious and any man that cannot see that and only sees me for the physical pleasure he can get is absolutely not worthy of my gift of intimacy. Period.

What are your thoughts? Anyone got a different perspective?

Valentine's Day Perspective

This morning I awoke to Lenten Season Day #2, which happens to be Valentine's Day this year due to an early Easter. For the first time in a long time, I wasn't annoyed or depressed. Instead of focusing on what I don't have (a romantic relationship), I'm focused on the ultimate demonstration of love, Jesus' death to pay for my sins.

Does this focus eliminate my desire for a romantic relationship? No, of course not. What girl doesn't want a man to love her and cherish her? What girl doesn't want a relationship that has depth and meaning? What girl doesn't want a partner to face life with? I surely do. (I know not all girls feel this way, but you understand.)

Anyway, this desire in my heart is not evil in any way - I was created to love and be loved. Love is a very real need we have. Now, I could get myself in real trouble by attempting to fulfill this desire in an unhealthy way, like giving away my body, not caring about the dude's spiritual life, and such. I mean, I saw this morning that Honey Boo-boo's mom has a boyfriend (though I thought she was married, but what do I know? I don't actually watch the show - a meme was posted to Facebook on a friend's timeline). Although this might sound a tad, um, prideful - I'm surely a better catch than she is! I can cook like all get out, I'm smart, well educated, love sports (and can functionally discuss nearly any sport, even those I don't watch), I like adventure, I'm willing to exit my comfort zone, and above all I love me some Jesus in a full-tilt kind of way. How is she in a relationship and I'm not?!

I'm not for some specific reasons, the first of which is God hasn't brought anyone (or brought me to them). As much as I'd like Him to do so, He hasn't. For whatever reason, that's His will at this time for me. A second reason is that I have a holy fear of trying to do it myself. My first marriage was me trying to satify my need for love on my own. It didn't go so well. When Abraham attempted to fulfill what was even a promise of God on his own, it was a disaster. That is all reason enough for me not to go there without Jesus.

I could probably go to a bar, get picked up, give up "the goods," and have a "relationship." Except that's not a relationship, it's actually death. It surely won't fill the need I have to be loved. It's going against how God created things to be, and every time I've deviated from God's rhythm I've paid a huge price. I finally feel, after making some ridiculous number of bad decisions in this arena in my teenage years and early 20s, that I've accepted God's forgiveness and purity. There is no way in Hades I'd trade that for a one-way ticket to guilt and shame.

So as I face another Valentine's Day, I'm filled with - wait for it - JOY. God has given me incredible gifts, not the least of which is my salvation. He's also seen fit to give me a son that loves his momma a lot (and tackle hugged me for Valentine's Day this morning). He's given me incredible friends who know some of the deepest ugly in me and love me anyway. Oh, and God happens to not only love me, He actually likes me. Now that is pretty freaking cool! And in it all, I have unspeakable JOY. Go Jesus!

Happy Valentine's Day! May you know the height, depth, and breadth of God's crazy awesome love for you!

Freedom in Embracing Failure

The more I delve into this whole feeling worthy thing, the more I embrace who God says I am, the more I believe I am enough (despite all the imperfections I could spend hours detailing for you), the more I see freedom in embracing failure.

I'm not talking about wantonly doing a terrible job at something or being dispassionate, or lacking compassion and how my actions affect someone else. I'm talking about the fact that I will fail, despite at times my best efforts, but even in that place of failure I don't cease being enough or loved. In that place of failure (which often accompanied by pain) I experience God's grace deeply, I learn lessons about dark areas in my heart that need Jesus' healing, and I learn how very dependent I am on Jesus for everything (which I conveniently forget when things are easy or I'm successful).

I used to fear failure, so I never took real chances. Okay, I need to be real here - I was terrified in a phobic way of failure. If I couldn't be successful I often didn't try. Or if I did try, I threw everything I had at it, including my identity, and when it didn't work out I took a huge hit and was wounded deeply. And this was a cycle to end all cycles that just kept happening over and over and over again. I was seriously failure averse. The quest for perfectionism was sapping me of the relationships I needed, sapping me of joy, and sapping me of God's grace. I was so afraid if I was known I'd be rejected and that any love for me was predicated on what I could accomplish. It was a one-way ticket to bondage.

Now, I'm learning that failure is both inevitable and beautiful. Which is slightly terrifying. I'd be lying if I said I like failure. Of course I don't! But it will happen and if I embrace it and bring it to Jesus (who already knows anyway) I have great freedom there. I'm free to make mistakes and grow. I'm free to let people love me even when I've been a dork. I'm free to feel God's incredible grace wash over me. I'm just plain free.

So the more I grow, the more I trust, the more I am embracing failure. It's a little scary at times, but it's also the best way to live. At least that's how I feel!

Revisiting my Need for a Lesson in Botany

On 22 November 2010 I posted the following note on Facebook. I had no idea what a blog was exactly nor why I would ever create one. What I did know was that God was speaking to my heart and I wanted to share it. This is that post in its entirety. Years have now passed and I have seen God fulfill this in my life. At the time I wrote this I was barely able to believe this was possible - barely able to personalize this for myself. More than two years later not only do I know it's possible, but I rejoice in the work God has done, and I am learning to embrace who I am. I hope that this blesses whoever chooses to read it.

So last night God gave me this scripture in Isaiah - 55:13 - "Where once there were thorns, cypress trees will grow. Where nettles grew, myrtles will sprout up. These events will bring great honor to the Lord’s name; they will be an everlasting sign of his power and love."

There are a lot of plants in this one verse.  So since Jesus doesn't add detail that is meaningless, I hit the Google search engine this morning to learn more about the mentioned items.  Here is what I found:

Thorns - Well, nothing new Googling here.  Thorns are pointy things that grow on trees and bushes.  They help deter predators and they hurt like a booger if you run into them. The Bible uses thorns as a metaphor for people who will give you grief (see the Old Testament where God is telling the Israelites to drive out the people in the land or they'll be thorns in their sides).  How many times have I  been a thorn?  How many times have I used my thorns to keep people away from me?  As a way to self protect?

Thorns are contrasted with Cypress trees...

Cypress trees - Cypress trees are  pretty sturdy things.  They can be very drought tolerant.  They are evergreens (the African cypress) and easily resists decay.  It's also aromatic.  One of the things I thought was way cool is that, according to Wikipedia, the cones containing the seeds don't open until they are scorched by fire.  Huh.  Sound like any other descriptions of things in the Bible?  Like maybe fiery trials?  How often has God used a fiery trial of some sort to get me to open up and, from that, He uses it to plant His seeds in me and around me?

Then there are nettles. Did you know that they are toxic?  They are pretty, flowering plants, but utterly toxic.  They've been known to kill animals and even a human or two.  Some cultures have used them in weird folk concoctions, but anything that can kill a horse is something I'd rather not tangle with, thank you very much.  They also have stinging leaves - little hairs with the chemicals on them.  Imagine running into them.  If this scripture can be applied to my life - how often have I been toxic?  How often has a run in with me been devastating to someone else?  How often has a run in with me been devastating to me?

Nettles are contrasted with myrtles...

I think this was the one that spoke the most powerfully to me.  Myrtles are also really hearty.  Not only can they be small bush-like things, but they can grow into pretty sizable trees (up to 5 meters).  They are beautiful.  I'm actually familiar with the Crepe Myrtle (same family as the ones in Israel) - which are all over NC.  Those trees are gorgeous when they flower.  And they are also ridiculously hearty.  When I lived in my apartment each year during pruning season the landscapers would come and darn near chop down the trees outside my second-story bedroom window.  The poor things looked pathetic and barren.  It never failed, though, that by mid summer they were again as tall as the second-story window and had the most beautiful fiery pink flowers on them.  They were struck down but not destroyed.  Does that sound anything you might have read in the Bible? (See 2 Corinthians 4:9).

Okay, so what's the point?  The point is that this is something God will absolutely do in and through us.  In and through me.  He can take all the rough, toxic parts of us and make us strong, resistant to the crap this world throws at us, and beautiful.  How many women who are reading this need to know that God can AND WILL make them beautiful?  In fact, if 2 Corinthians 5:17 is true and this work is done and we are new creations, then WE ALREADY ARE BEAUTIFUL.  WE ALREADY ARE STRONG.  WE ALREADY ARE ABLE TO WITHSTAND THE CRAP OF THIS WORLD.

I know, maybe better than some, how hard this is to believe for yourself.  But in Ephesians 3:19-20 says, "May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think." (NLT, emphasis added)

I can't do this in myself.  I just can't.  I can't even imagine what God might wish to accomplish in my life.  But He can and He is.  I've been told recently that I'm not big enough to wreck God's plans for my life.  In Isaiah 55, right before verse 13, He talks about how He wants us to come to Him - those who are thirsty and burdened.  He says that His word never returns void, that it ALWAYS accomplishes the purpose He has for it.  If He came to set us free (which He says frequently in His word), then we can bank on the fact that He will accomplish this in us.

I don't know about you, but I want people to look at my life and think, "I can't believe God did that in her. Wow, He's powerful. I want to meet that Guy."  So all I have to say is - BRING IT, JESUS. Let's do this thing.