Healing

Triggered to Praise

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It came from out of nowhere. I had an appointment across town so I decided to take a back road to save time. In hindsight, I wish I’d have thought it through a little more carefully. The back road took me into the area I spent 20 years of my life. As I crossed over the highway that led to the home my ex and I built together to retire in, the memories flooding my mind weren’t ones of missing him or even missing that house. The memories overwhelming me were ones of abuse, pain, and heartache. I was triggered. The type of trigger I’m referring to, as defined by Webster’s dictionary, is anything that reminds you of previous trauma. To be triggered is to experience an intense and, usually, negative emotional or physical reaction, such as a panic attack. My reaction was completely unexpected and came out of nowhere. One minute, I was driving along and the next, I could hardly breathe, the road in front of me became blurry as my eyes filled with tears, and all I wanted to do was get away from there. Processing through the hurtful events we’ve experienced is hard and excruciating. Sometimes when memories fill our mind, they certainly don’t take into consideration we might be driving down the Interstate or standing in the checkout line at Wal Mart. I know I’ve had to pull off to the side of the road more than once to get the tears under control and I’ve had more than a few strange looks in the grocery store. Sound familiar? After my divorce was final, I was in a very dark place. I didn’t sleep and I didn’t eat. It was all I could do to get myself through the work day. Dealing with grief and the constant ache in my heart was exhausting. When I crawled into bed each night, I played praise and worship music to calm the unrest in my mind and soothe the ache in my heart…then I’d pray for sleep to find me. I was completely empty and I couldn’t think of anything better to fill up that void than listening to beautiful voices praising Jesus in worship. I had long since lost my own voice. It had been pushed somewhere into the background and it just became easier and easier to not search for it. I don’t know exactly where or even when it happened. Probably somewhere between the contempt and the rejection and the betrayal and the abandonment. In the myriad of emotions that seemingly plagued my brain and my heart every second, my love for singing beautiful worship songs was left behind. Buried under the anguish in the basement of my heart. One evening after work, I got into my car, and completely broke down. It hadn’t been a stressful day but the sheer energy it took to paste a smile on my face for those around me, was too much for the brokenness in my tormented soul. I didn’t think the tears would ever stop. When I was finally able to gain some composure, the still small voice of the Spirit whispered… You need to praise Me. What, Jesus? You must praise Me. Oh, Jesus…how can I offer You praise when I’m such a broken mess? Trust Me, My child. That’s the best time to do it. I didn’t say praise the circumstances. Praise Me in the circumstances. But it hurts so much. I don’t even know if I have it within me anymore. I know it hurts. Please trust Me. Worship Me. Praise Me. My car had suddenly become holy ground. I felt I should’ve removed my shoes and been on my face because, in that moment, the Holy Spirit had completely filled that space. And with His sweet presence, overwhelming peace. Jesus wasn’t put off by my attitude, my brokenness, or the painful mess I was caught up in. He embraced me in the middle of it. Before I left the parking lot, praise was being lifted. At first, I was only listening but the words of worship set to music stirred something deep inside of me. It felt as if the praise that had been trapped for so long in the basement of my heart, started to break through. It had been so long since I’d sung anything but through the lump stuck in my throat and with tears still stinging my eyes, I started to sing… “Your promise still stands, Great is Your faithfulness, faithfulness; I’m still in Your hands, This is my confidence, You’ve never failed me yet…” Did lifting those beautiful words change my circumstances? No, they did not but they began to change me. The more I sang, the lighter I felt. The sadness wasn’t as heavy. The pain not as painful. I felt hope well up in my heart. It’s the best I’d felt in a very long time. By the time I pulled into the driveway at the house, I think I may have even smiled. I made a covenant with Jesus that night. I promised Him no matter what I was feeling or what was happening or even if the circumstances didn’t change, I would praise Him! Through the tears. Through the heartache. Through all the things that seemed unfair. I chose to praise Him. The enemy knows our weakness. He cannot read our minds but he’s very observant. He watches us and keeps track of the places in our lives where weakness wins. I’m sure he gets enjoyment out of blindsiding us with a memory, a song, or even a smell to trigger the grief we’re so desperate to be healed from. His goal is to get our eyes off Jesus and onto the pain, the grief, or the situation at hand. He doesn’t want us to praise Jesus. He doesn’t want us turning our eyes to the only One who can comfort our broken hearts or give us hope in the middle of the

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The Letter

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I found a letter. It began with fond memories derived from her childhood dreams of marrying the man God had chosen especially for her. While hopeful that I was about to read a wonderful love story, it suddenly took a very dark turn. After the first paragraph, I realized it had been written by a very distraught, very broken woman. It felt as if I were intruding and yet, being made privy to the private, deep pain of a woman trapped in an abusive relationship, I felt a connection with her. I felt sorry for her. Who was she? Did she truly feel this man was God’s best for her? She had said as much in the first few words. But how? How could she possibly have felt that way? The actions of this man she described clearly portrayed that he did not love her. As I continued reading her lament, my heart was broken. Here was a woman so clearly in love with a man who could, at any moment, cast her aside without a second thought! As if she were nothing more than an obstacle to his happiness and yet, she was willing to forgive him. I sensed her struggle and confusion as she had also written, several times over, she would let him go, if that is what he truly wanted. Even after 33 years of marriage, she was willing to let him go just to make his life easier.  I could feel her agony as she begged him to love her again…if he ever did in the first place. I wanted to wrap my arms around her to somehow bring comfort to a heart that was clearly crushed. What kind of relationship was this? It clearly was not one of mutual love and respect. I cringed as I read her repeated apologies to him for the natural changes that had occurred in her body as she aged, none of which can be controlled. Then for her to volunteer to move into another room in their house just so he doesn’t have to feel uncomfortable when he looks at her? Really? What kind of monster is he? Did he really think she didn’t know how he truly felt? She told of feeling his eyes perusing her body as if he were hoping to find something to judge her for. The letter went on to list her suspicions of his questionable behavior and the stories and excuses that didn’t make sense. The words told of her daily struggle to be everything he desired only to fall short of his ideal every.single.time. She had exhausted every attempt to gain his attention. She told of choosing to knowingly nag him over little things just so he’d acknowledge her existence and engage her in conversation…even if it was negative. What more could she do? Should she do? I wanted to tell her to leave this abusive, controlling man, and run as fast as she could in the opposite direction. But could she? Did she have a safe place she could run? Could she survive on her own? Would anyone help her? Worse yet, would this man even notice if she were gone? Would he even care? This letter was clearly a desperate cry for help. Did he hear her? Who else could she turn to if not the man she had committed her life to? How could she tell anyone else of her suspicions? Could she even prove them? Did she need to? Perhaps she could go to her pastor? Or a trusted friend? Maybe she could find help through one of them. Yet, if she truly felt she could, wouldn’t she have done so already? WHY don’t you see her? You clearly do not know what a rare treasure she is! Oh, Lord Jesus! Please deliver this woman who is so desperate to be loved and validated that she’s willing to stay with this narcissistic man, for the mere crumbs he’s willing to throw at her feet now and then! Then the questions…oh, the unanswered questions that tormented her mind. I could sense her resolve to want answers and yet, at the same time, her fear to actually know them. She told of patiently waiting in anticipation for him to come home from work each night, only to hear his cold and empty excuses for why he was late…again. I could feel her deep disappointment as she wrote of the few times she’d asked him to sit up with her to talk before going to bed…and the only answer received was his deep sigh of frustration and angst for her having the audacity to even make such a suggestion. I am sure she’s felt all these things before now. She’s had to. Hasn’t she? How could she live like this? I imagine she constantly wondered where he was, who he was with, or what excuse he’d come up with next. Has she ever confronted him face to face? Perhaps she was afraid. Perhaps she’s been down that path before. Did she ever tell anyone how he treated her? Could she? Or was she too ashamed? Did she put on a happy face in the morning before she went out to face the world each day? This letter broke my heart. This woman was trapped with no answers to her questions. I’m sure she had many more but perhaps she’d asked them all before. Would they have made a difference anyway? Would she have received truthful answers? Somehow I seriously doubt it. Her words were ones of surrender but I could feel a quiet strength beneath it all. This letter seemed to be her last attempt to reach out to this man she loved before giving up completely. She clearly stated that she could no longer be his doormat nor could she bear his constant unspoken judgement. You may be surprised to learn that I know this woman. In fact, I am very close to her. I know her heart

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Untangled Joy

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Christmas. It’s the most wonderful time of the year. Peace on earth, good will toward men.* Perhaps for some…but not for all. More-often-than-not, I have found the Christmas season stirs emotion far from a wonderful time, absent of good will towards anything, and completely devoid of peace. While some may put on a happy face and try to pretend everything is fine, deep within their soul, they are grieving a loss, suffering from depression, healing from some type of pain, or dealing with an event that was completely unexpected. For others, Christmas triggers memories that once brought joy but now only remind of betrayal, rejection, and abandonment. Sometimes, the reality of where many are this time of year, gets lost amid tinsel and trees…carols and cocoa…lights and laughter. Living in this fallen world is overwhelming at times. There are those who can only see the tangled mess their lives have become or what is missing and joy and hope elude them. Oh, how I understand this. Have lived this. In the process of this. I get this. As a child, Christmas at my house was something I looked forward to. My daddy was a cabinetmaker by trade and didn’t make lots of money but he and my mom always made sure my siblings and I had one or two very special gifts under the beautifully lit tree. With each passing day on the December calendar, the anticipation of what was under the tree brought excitement and joy. This was the one time in the year we received special gifts from our parents simply because they loved us and wanted to bring us joy. There is one Christmas I remember more than any other. I can’t remember how old I was (maybe 7 or 8) when I received a precious little baby doll. I named her Joy because I was filled with joy from the moment I saw her. Joy came with all the special “baby” accessories that made the gift of her complete. I had everything I needed and spent hours pretending and dreaming of when I’d have babies of my own I knew would bring me even more joy. We moved when I was in high school and somehow Joy was misplaced in all the shuffle. I had planned to save her for my own little girls to play with someday. I looked through every box and even the trash but I didn’t ever find her. I had lost my Joy. As the years passed and I grew older, Christmas was still special but I started to notice that excitement and joy weren’t as prominent in my emotions. That is, until I met him. He was home on leave and we spent ten magical days together during the Christmas season. At that time in my life, he was my dream come true. The 31st day on that December calendar, ended with a marriage proposal, a diamond ring, and plenty of excitement and joy. I felt as if my life had just begun and was only going to get better. During my marriage, God blessed my life with three children and I was overcome with the immense joy I had dreamed of as a child. My heart was overwhelmed with fervent love at each birth because everything was falling into place, just as I dreamed it would. Christmas was always a big deal at our house. The gifts under the tree were excessive, to say the least, but to watch my children’s faces light up at the sight of what they’d received, brought a lot of joy. One memory that will be forever etched into my mind happened every Christmas. Before the days of pre-lit Christmas trees, if you desired lights, you had to purchase them separately. I’ve always marveled at new Christmas lights when taken from the box. They’re securely bound together yet flexible enough to serve the designed purpose, and completely unblemished. But once removed, they have to be pulled and stretched to ensure they’re manageable enough to be wrapped around the tree branches. Most of the time, these new lights would end up strung out all over the floor and completely tangled up. Or, worse yet, one of the lights would loosen during the stretching process or would be missing all together. When that would happen, it meant carefully checking each bulb or the entire strand wouldn’t work. All the lights on the strand had to be connected for them to work as they were designed. However, after what seemed like hours of watching my former spouse fight with them, once each bulb was intact, glowing with light, and in place on the tree, they were beautiful. The living room took on a warm, soft glow that was very peaceful. After Christmas was a different story. Between placement and removal, he’d forgotten how he’d twisted them around the branches and the tangled mess would ensue. Every year he fussed and fought with Christmas tree lights and the memory of that still makes me laugh. He had no patience whatsoever and, eventually, that years lights ended up where all the others had gone before them…either tossed into a box and stored away in the attic or were rejected all together and thrown out. It was just easier to toss them aside or throw them in the trash. He could always get new ones for next years tree. While the memory of those Christmas lights brings laughter, it also brings searing pain. The irony of how my life with him compares to those Christmas lights, shoots an arrow of deep pain into my heart. When our relationship began, I was secure in my life yet knew I could adjust to whatever God had purposed and designed for me, with my heart completely unblemished by the world. I was young, very impressionable, with a desire to make him happy so it didn’t take long before I was pulled in several different directions with my values and convictions being stretched

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It Took a Picture

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It’s said a picture is worth a thousand words. I have found it’s worth much more than that. So. Very. Much. More. As I have been walking through this season of transition, the one thing that has eluded me is closure. I’ve desperately been searching for some way to put the past behind me and move on. Waiting for the moment when God would put a period at the end of this chapter in my story. Waiting for the moment when my heart would finally let go of the man wearing the mask. I know with all my heart that God can do anything. Nothing (no-thing) is beyond His capability. Nothing is impossible for Him. So, why doesn’t He just put the past behind me and allow my search for closure to end? Why doesn’t He put a period at the end of this chapter in my story? Why doesn’t He unlock my heart so I can finally let go of the man wearing the mask? When our hearts are hurting, often times, we think, if God really loved us, He would’ve never allowed it to happen in the first place. Have you ever prayed for what you wanted then waited for God to bless your agenda? I confess, I have. Especially in the beginning. Never in a million years would I have thought that grief causes physical pain. There were so many times I cried out to Jesus to make the pain stop and now, I know why He didn’t and I’m thankful. God loved me enough to allow the pain He knew would be temporary, to rescue me. Even though I didn’t understand what He was doing or even why, I trusted Him. He wants us to trust He is there even when we can’t feel His presence. Even when it feels like He’s not listening. Even when He doesn’t answer as quickly as we think He should. I truly believe this is the most important aspect to whatever season or transition you’re in. God wants us to grasp onto and purpose in our heart to trust Him and never, ever, ever let go. As I sit here, in the quietness of this moment, my thoughts go back to where this season started and how God has brought me to where I am today. It’s all so clear now. So very, very clear. It wasn’t until after the divorce I was made privy to the real man I was married to. He had said he was tired of “pretending” but, at the time he said it, I assumed he meant he was tired of the pretense of living two separate lives. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He was tired of pretending to be the man he let me see. He was tired of pretending to be the Godly man I thought I married. He was tired of pretending he loved me. He was tired of wearing a mask. I’m not a psychologist by any stretch but I do know that to protect an already broken heart or to protect a mind that cannot comprehend what is taking place, we build a protective barrier or a wall, if you will, between our minds and the truth. A defense mechanism. Whether it’s living in denial or rationalizing the situation to our benefit, this wall blocks out truth so we can tell ourselves what we believe to be reality. It’s what I did. I could not wrap my mind around the fact that the man I absolutely loved and adored DID.NOT.LOVE.ME. I could not allow my heart to believe the man who, at one time, preached about Jesus with such passion, was an imposter. I could not allow my heart to believe that he had chosen another. It was more than I could bear. When unexpected grief touches your life, it’s as if your mind goes into overdrive. It’s a struggle to understand what is happening while trying to maintain some sort of normalcy. In an instant, your heart is shattered into a million pieces and while you’re trying to regain some composure, your mind starts setting up defense mechanisms to protect you from what is happening. The very thing you thought would never happen. For months, I have lived in denial about her. The girlfriend. I had seen pictures of her, knew he’d turned his back on everything we had to be with her, and I knew he quit his job and moved to her country to live with her. But even knowing all of that, my mind blocked out the fact that he was with her. My mind could not, would not, accept they were a couple. After all, he was mine for 35 years. Why did he have the right to walk away? Why did he have the right to choose someone else? He’d made a vow; a covenant with me. Why did this happen? Why did he get to be happy and I was miserable? Why didn’t God heal my marriage? Why didn’t God see how much I loved him and needed him in my life? Why didn’t God restore him to his former passionate, preaching self? Why didn’t God stop him from agreeing to the divorce? Why didn’t God answer my prayers the way I needed Him to? Wanted Him to? Why didn’t He relieve the pain that tortured me day and night? I prayed. I cried. I begged. I pleaded. I questioned. God remained silent. I know with all my heart that God can do anything. Nothing is beyond His capability. Nothing is impossible for Him. So, since He can, why didn’t He? A few weeks ago, I learned the answers to the myriad of questions that would not let my mind rest. God revealed something I did not expect. It was so simple. So easy and yet so overwhelming. In my human frailty, my finite mind always tries to put God in a box. Then just when I think I understand His

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When Your Dream Dies

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Have you ever felt stuck? Stuck between what was and what is yet to be? Have you ever had more questions than what are answered? Have you ever had more doubt than trust? More struggles than victories? More loss than gain? Have you ever felt for every step forward, you took three steps back? Have you ever felt healed in some areas yet still grieve in others? While I know I am exactly where God wants me to be, it doesn’t mean the questions don’t come…it doesn’t mean I don’t get discouraged from time to time…and, I’m very thankful, it doesn’t mean He he’s left me to handle all of this on my own. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. God knew, before the beginning of time, I would be exactly where I am. Right at this moment. …feeling stuck… …in the middle… …with all these questions… …with all these doubts… …with all these struggles… …and, at times, feeling loss instead of gain… Is it what God wanted? Perhaps not…yet, it happened. Did He allow it? Yes, I believe He did, with all my heart. Nothing touches my life that isn’t filtered through His hand first. So, this is where I am. This is where I’m stuck. This is where I reside, at least, for the moment. What do you do when the dream you once imagined dies? What do you do when you were absolutely sure you chose the right person to vow your life to, only to be proven wrong in a matter of minutes? What do you do when God reveals the man behind the mask? What do you do when you feel your entire relationship was a lie? What do you do when memories take you back to the person he let you see and not the person he truly is? What do you do when you learn he didn’t love you and only married you to bear his children? What do you do when you can’t wrap your mind around how you were deceived for years? What do you do with regrets that cloud your thoughts and rob you of sleep? What do you do when you can’t remember life before you were his? What do you do when you feel you had no other choice but to put him before all else in your life? Before God? Before your kids? Before your family? Before your friends? What do you do when you feel you have to pick a fight just to get him to notice you? What do you do when you love so deeply yet he turns his back and runs to another? What do you do? Where do you go? My favorite person in the Old Testament is David. David, the young shepherd boy who was anointed to be the King of Israel before he was even big enough to hold up a crown. David, the young shepherd boy who killed a bear and a lion with his bare hands. David, the young shepherd boy who faced a giant and killed him with one stone hurled from the end of his slingshot. Now, you may be thinking that David must have had some kind of super power to be able to accomplish these amazing things. He didn’t. David was human…just like us. He had parents and seven older brothers so I’m quite sure he was picked on throughout his childhood from time to time. I’m sure he fussed and fought with his siblings on more than one occasion. He slept, he ate, he went to school, and he even had a job looking after the sheep. David was a normal guy who just happened to be chosen to rule over God’s people. He was just like us. He had victories and defeats. He made good decisions but also made some bad ones. Just like us. He laughed, he cried, he sang, he yelled, he prayed, he worried, he planned, he plotted, he dreamed, he despaired. Just like us. But there is something deeper about David that makes him special and absolutely endears him to me. David was “a man after God’s own heart”. (1 Samuel 13:14) It was the intent of his heart to live in such a way that honored God. Not a super power. It was just a choice. David was real. David was raw. David knew what to do and where to go, no matter how or what he was feeling. There are 150 psalms recorded in the Bible and David is responsible for writing 75 of them. I am so thankful that his psalms (journal entries, if you will) were included in God’s Word. Here, we are privy to his private emotions. Here, we are privy to the words that overflowed from his heart to God. Whether happy or hurting. Rejoicing or lamenting. “Hear my cry, O God; Listen to my prayer. From the end of the earth I call to You, when my heart is overwhelmed and weak; Lead me to the rock that is higher than I [a rock that is too high to reach without Your help]. For You have been a shelter and a refuge for me; A strong tower against the enemy. Let me dwell in Your tent forever; Let me take refuge in the shelter of Your wings.”  ~ Psalms 61:1-4 (AMP) David knew Who to take his heart-cries to. He called out to his Refuge; his Shelter. He asked God to lift him above the fray going on in his life because he couldn’t do it on his own. David needed God to lift him up. Just like us. When I am overwhelmed with life and have soul-searching, yet heart-wrenching, questions, I, like David, run to my Refuge; I run to my Shelter; I run to the Rock that is higher than I. God is the only One who can lift me above the fray to allow me to see things from His perspective. While I may not understand everything He is

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Modern Day Manna

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I am in training. When I started my job, my employer sent me for a week of training at our operations center. A few weeks before, I received several emails with instructions on where to book my hotel, directions on how to get there, items I needed to take with me, and the most important one, how to submit an expense report when I returned to be reimbursed for what I had paid out of my own pocket. I did all they told me to do without once worrying about how much my credit card was going up because they said I would be reimbursed. I believed them. I trusted them to keep their word to me as their employee. The company took care of my needs for the week because they wanted to ensure I concentrated on the training that was critical for being successful at the job they’d hired me to do. As I continue to walk through this current season of my life, I am learning more and more every day, God has placed me in training. He is training me to trust Him more. He is training me to be content. He promised in His precious word that He has “a plan to prosper me and not to fail; to give me a future and a hope.” (Jeremiah 29:11). Over the past few weeks, God has shown me that while I’ve been looking forward to all He has planned for me in the years ahead, I haven’t been paying attention to the smaller things He wants to teach me along the way. My focus has been too broad. I have been fixated on the future…thinking I’d just wake up one day and all that He promised would have happened overnight. Somehow there would be a deposit into my checking account, from an unknown source, to pay all of my debt in full or my manager would come to me at work and tell me I was receiving a bonus for a job well done. I thought He would snap His fingers, my debt would be paid in full, and all my worries would be left behind me in one fell swoop! The problem with that last sentence? The first two words…I thought… “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways,” declares the Lord. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.” ~Isaiah 55:8-9 I believe, with all my heart, God could have chosen to orchestrate the events of my life to accomplish the exact scenario above. But what would I have learned? Yes, it certainly would have reaffirmed to my heart that He is my Provision and only He could have done it but it wouldn’t teach me (or train me) to live within the provision He’s already given me, would it? If He just miraculously erased all my debt, why would I need to trust Him day to day? I would be debt free but knowing me as He does, it wouldn’t be long before I’d be back in the same hole then we’d be right back where we started. Truth be told, I have been here, in this hole, more than once in my life and it’s time to learn to trust Him for my needs and not American Express. If you read my last post, Details, Details, Details, I wrote my ex has stopped paying alimony. Had I not been so angry and taken it to God right when it happened, He would have shown me that it was He who allowed it and was just part of His overall plan. Instead, I spent money on an attorney who basically told me to wait until he owed me a huge debt then “go after him”.  Those words didn’t set well with me. When she said it, I realized I had allowed my pain and anger to control my actions.  I didn’t want to “go after him” and realized that God didn’t want me to either.  I felt very convicted as I returned to my car after that meeting. I was out $150 and had accomplished nothing. As I sat there, He whispered to me, as He so often does, when He can get me quiet enough to listen, that He wants to be my provision. He wants to take care of me. He removed my ex from my life for a purpose and He didn’t want me relying on him or his money. Pursuing him later for a huge debt would only prove to stir up anger and resentment within my heart and line my attorney’s pocket with a grand sum. How does that bring honor and glory to God? I wiped my tears with resolve in my heart that I had nothing to fear. When the children of Israel were delivered after 430 years of slavery in Egypt, they took provisions with them that would sustain them for a period of time. God had already brought them through the Red Sea and they were living in the wilderness. When the provisions they’d brought with them ran out, the people grumbled against Moses and said they would’ve been better off had they stayed in Egypt because, at least, they had food everyday. They had been delivered from slavery just long enough to forget what was bad about being enslaved and only remembered what they were missing. Seems they’d already forgotten they were forced to make bricks without straw, not to mention the whips they encountered from time to time. (Exodus 16) I have heard this story hundreds of times in my life and have wondered every time how the children of Israel could have had such a selective memory. How they could only focus on what they were missing and not how badly they were treated. How every day they cried out to God for deliverance and yet when He did just that, all they wanted to

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Details, Details, Details

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Have you ever had your car detailed? I have only had it done once, a very long time ago, but I was surprised at how everything that was chrome glistened and there didn’t seem to be a speck of dust anywhere. The only thing I noticed that was missing was the new car smell! (Why can’t they put that in the details?) I wanted it to stay that way forever but alas, it did not because you know, life happens! Before too much time had passed, my car was, once again, back to the way it had been before. Just as the person who worked on my car ensured that he didn’t leave one detail from missing the end of his cleaning instrument, God is that way with you and me. He wants to ensure He doesn’t leave one detail out so He can lead us on to our purpose but, alas, we tend to go back to wanting to be in control of our own lives…and before too much time has passed, we go back to the way we had been before. I do it all the time…and this past week was no exception. God is in the details. There is a tradition at some churches to  choose a word for the year to act as a theme for what you want to focus on in the new year.  For 2018, the year immediately following my divorce, I chose the word forward. It was truly the desire of my heart to move forward and leave all the pain and grief behind me. I was absolutely amazed at how God used that word to lead me into my new normal. I saw and heard that word everywhere! My daughter even made this picture for me to hang in my new house as a reminder of God’s provision and faithfulness. He constantly reminded me that He was leading me forward and had a specific and detailed plan for my life. 2018 was definitely the hardest year of my life, thus far, yet even in the times I felt like I’d taken a few steps back due to pain or grief, there was an Unseen Hand leading me forward. God is in the details. The word I chose for 2019 is Content. I made the choice to be content with all God has provided and to live within my means. I accumulated a lot of debt in the year following my divorce and, I will admit, some was of my own making. Retail therapy is not a wise choice when you’re grieving but it’s what I turned to, trying to relieve the agony I was feeling. (Side note: it. did. not. work. I was still in pain and had accumulated a bunch of stuff that, while it made my new home and yard look beautiful, I was left with credit card bills to pay.) The rest of it came as a result of my son’s college expenses (student loans), medical expenses, dental expenses, and, unfortunately, a huge tax bill. Unexpected things that you can’t really prepare for. Things that come up as you live life. In March of this year, I received word (through my kids) that their dad had lost his job. Up to this point, he had been paying alimony as part of our divorce settlement. Even though I had grown to depend on that income, my instincts kept telling me that it wouldn’t last long. Deep in my heart, I knew he would find some way to stop supporting me. I don’t know if it was the Holy Spirit forewarning me about it or if I just know my ex that well…perhaps it was a little of both. Once the alimony stopped, I actually felt peace. Yes…you read that word correctly. I experienced unexplainable peace. It was one of those “God things” that doesn’t quite make sense to our finite minds yet was very tangible. I was actually relieved. I no longer had anything keeping me tied to him. That, in and of itself, was freeing! Since that time, God has been showing me what it means to live day to day being content with Him being my Provision. He absolutely knows the debt I have. He absolutely knows whether or not my ex “lost his job” or if he just found another way to hurt me. It didn’t take long for the enemy to start messing with my peace. He cannot read our minds but he’s very observant and hears the words we speak aloud. After a few months of struggling with the debt load, I started listening to the enemy. As a result, I became angry that my ex seemed to be “winning”. So, I took matters into my own hands. I did not pray about it. I did not ask God what I should do. I just wanted my way. I wanted answers and I wanted them now. (Just being real and raw here.) I contacted my attorney to see if anything could be done about him not supporting me in some monetary way, since he signed a legally binding document. But, ya know what? I hit road blocks at every turn. In my anger and frustration, I cried out to God about all the injustices my ex was inflicting on me. Why, God? It isn’t fair that he’s getting everything he wanted! He just cast me aside and walked away so he could have his new life with his girlfriend! Why should he be allowed to get by with not supporting me with whatever income he has? I supported him for years and what thanks do I get? I was angry and I wanted God to know it. In my heart, I already knew He knew it but I am grateful He loves me so much that He allowed me to vent. He allowed me to whine. He allowed me to be angry and frustrated. After He patiently waited for me finish my temper-tantrum, and

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Strong Foundation

Leave a Comment / Encouragement, Healing, Hope, Peace, Strength / /

Last week was a struggle. The days passed by slowly and it seemed as if everything I put my hand on was either messed up or didn’t go as I had planned. I was happy when 5pm on Friday rolled around because it meant I could go home and hide for 3 days. And hide I have. This little house God has blessed me with is my sanctuary from the world. It is my quiet place from all the chaos beyond it’s walls. I was able to watch it’s construction from the ground up. It was exciting to visit my lot every night after work and see the progress of it all coming together. One such evening, as I pulled up in front, I saw that the foundation had been poured. The sun was going down but I had just enough daylight left to do what I had been planning. I grabbed a black sharpie from my purse and walked to the concrete slab that would be the strength for the walls to come. I started at one of the corners in the back. I knelt down and began writing scripture on the foundation of my new home. I had planned on only writing on the 4 corners but the more I wrote, the more scripture came to mind and I knew it had to be written. After I finished writing the scripture, I prayer walked all around the edges then to the middle where the next seasons of my life would happen. At this time, my divorce had only been final for 15 days and I had no idea what the future held for me. I was venturing out on my own…just me and Jesus. But, you know what? Knowing He was my Guide and He promised to never leave me, I had no fear. I’ve been living in my home for almost 2 years now and every once in awhile, the Spirit reminds me of the scripture written on it’s foundation. My home was built on God’s word. Just as my life should be. I am reminded of a parable Jesus taught in Matthew 7. “Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.” ~ Matthew 7:24-27 ESV There have been times when my faith has faced the rains falling and the floods coming, with fierce winds beating down, as it was this past week. But even in those times, I know Who my Rock is. I know Who I have built my foundation on. I know Who my trust is in. I may have been tossed around a bit but I know the One who upholds me and I will not be down for long nor will I be swept away. I rest in and rely on God’s word to get me through the times when the enemy tries to get me to give up and give in. The fact that the enemy is messing with me in the first place is all the evidence I need to prove that I am on the right path and he doesn’t like it one bit. He knows that I trust Jesus with everything in my life…no matter what it is I’m going through. Jesus is my Strength and the Foundation of my life and anything the enemy can do to shake it, he will. Just as my home has God’s word written on its foundation, His precious word is written on the foundation of my heart. There have been so many times when I have been in the midst of a struggle or a memory from the past has triggered grief and I will hear the still, small voice of my Savior…whispering His word into my soul. He constantly reminds me that I am His and He is mine. He sees from the beginning to the end. He is in the details. No matter if it’s my checkbook that’s in the red or if I’m just having a sad day…He is there with me, right in the middle of everything I face. What about you? What is the foundation of your life built on? Money? Success? Your spouse? Your job?                                                               Your gift? I can promise you, all of those things will fail. I have put my faith in every single one of these and every single one, failed me. Every. Single. One. And, yes, I collapsed. Everything I’d ever known was swept away. I wanted to give up. I wanted to run and hide. Jesus knew that I had placed my trust and hope in these perishable things and He knew they’d fail me. He also knew I wanted to give up and run to hide. But it didn’t matter how far I tried to run, I ran into Jesus every single time. That’s how He is. Once you give Him your life, He doesn’t let you go! Oh, how thankful I am for that! For who is God, but the Lord?     And who is a rock, except our God? ~ Psalm 18:31 NASB Even the Psalmist knew the only foundation to build our lives on is Jesus! I know, with everything I am and as sure as I’m sitting here, I would not have made it through the trauma and grief of

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Whose I Am

Leave a Comment / Healing, Hope, Peace / /

I’m in a battle…for my mind. This past week has been a very difficult one. Although it was not visible on the outside, there was a battle raging within me. On the outside, I looked like I was doing okay but my mind was at odds. On one side, stood the things I know to be true about God and His promises. On the other, the lies and deception of the enemy. Six months ago, I took a break from Facebook. It had taken over my life. I was more concerned about who was doing what with who and for how long than I was about reading God’s word, listening to praise and worship music, or even caring for the home that God has blessed me with. It had become too much. So, I asked my kids to change my password and not tell me what they changed it to. At first, it was a little hard for me but as the days without it passed, I noticed how much more peaceful my life had become. I didn’t even miss it. (I want to say right here and now that I’m not against Facebook or saying it’s a bad thing. We have a page for this ministry and it’s an awesome way to communicate with friends and family. It had just become too overwhelming for me and my personal walk with Jesus. I felt I needed to take a step back and reevaluate my priorities.) When this ministry was launched last month, I knew I would have to be back on Facebook to share content from the website. At first, it was going well and I thought I could handle it. That was my first mistake…I thought. Little did I know, it was a set up. A set up by the enemy to get me to go back to my old habits. The enemy will use anything he can to take our eyes off God and His purpose for our lives. Even if it only works for a little while. He knew the reason for me being back on Facebook was for the ministry but he also knows my habits. He knew that once I logged back on, it was only a matter of time, before I’d, once again, be searching and obsessing over things I could do nothing about. Ohhhh, the enemy is subtle. Even though I think I know his tactics and how he works, I fell. I was back in the pit! Even though I had been posting scripture and blog posts on the ministry page, I was on my personal page as well, back to obsessing over people and situations that are completely beyond my control. The enemy did not make me fall back into the pit…it was 100% my choice. All he did was present the opportunity then waited for me to act. Because that’s what he does. He sets the trap then waits for his prey. God’s word warns us about this in 1 Peter 5:8… “Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.” ~ 1 Peter 5:8 ESV The sleepless nights had returned and, consequently, tossing and turning as well.  One particular night, as I was desperately waiting for sleep to find me, the Holy Spirit impressed on me to get my journal and write. As I got up to get my journal, I had no idea what to write about. I guess I could’ve started with I’m having a hard time sleeping tonight but God had a different word He wanted me to write down. This is what I heard Him speak into my heart. I will redeem what the enemy has stolen from you. So, I started out with those ten words. I was sure the Spirit was going to convict me over the Facebook fiasco but He didn’t. He just spoke His word into my heart. Fifteen pages later, I had written down everything God had reminded me of…of who I am…of Whose I am! God knew I was going to fall back into that pit. He knows my habits, too; just as the enemy does. But God has power over the enemy and what the enemy cannot do is read my thoughts. God knows my thoughts. He knows the intent of my heart. He knows that being back in that pit was not where I wanted to be. And instead of chastising me for my failure, He reminded me of Whose I am and Who He is! By reminding me that He is the Great I Am and I am His child, (which sets me free from the yoke of slavery the enemy wants me tangled up in) God reached down into my room that night, took me by the hand, and pulled me up out of the pit that was about to envelope me. It wasn’t dramatic. I didn’t hear anything except the still small voice of my Savior, speaking words of affirmation into my heart. Then He told me to lie down and go to sleep. And that, I did. It was the first time in a week I had laid down and drifted peacefully into rest. God knows what has broken my heart. God knows the events that have turned my life upside down. God knows that I’ve had no closure on a few things that were left undone. When I keep my mind focused on Him, peace remains. But when I allow the enemy to distract me, even for just a little while, the event that broke my heart and turned my world upside down, becomes more than I can handle. The enemy will use any means possible to stop the purpose of God in this world and His plans for my life. This time, he used Facebook as the catalyst against me. Facebook has a search engine that allows me to see things that cause excruciating pain. Both things I cannot change nor

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Shattered Surrender

Leave a Comment / Healing / /

“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 comfort all who mourn; To give them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness.” Isaiah 61:1b; 2b-3a ESV I met him at church. He was my pastor’s son, home on leave from the Army, and was in my Sunday School class. He was very handsome and it was hard for me to take my eyes off him. Actually, it was hard for any of us to keep our eyes off him since he was talking non-stop about himself and the Army. I thought he was arrogant and loud, but he had a charisma that I was attracted to. After Sunday school, his dad met me at the bottom of the stairs. “Have you met my Lieutenant son yet?” he asked me, with a lot of enthusiasm. I told him yes, but I was curious as to why he seemed so happy about it. I went into the sanctuary, sat down with my brother-in-law, and waited for the service to start. The “Lieutenant” came in and sat beside the pastor’s wife, which made sense since it was his mom. At different times throughout the service, I caught him staring at me. I was a little uncomfortable but wondered how this worldly military man could be interested in me, a poor little church mouse from the country. When the service was over, I met my family in the parking lot to go home. The Lieutenant walked right up to me and asked if he could speak privately with me for a minute. I agreed and followed him back into the church. He leaned up against the back of one of the pews and he said, “My name is BJ. I am 28 years old and I’m not into playing games. If you’d like to get to know me better, the next time I’m home on leave, maybe we could go out together. Can I have your address and your phone number?” I stood there and stared at him, unable to speak, and barely able to breathe. My heart pounded so hard, I was sure he could’ve heard it. He was the most handsome man I had ever seen, with piercing hazel-green eyes. I was mesmerized. When I finally found my voice, I gave him my address and phone number. He called from time to time and I also received a few handwritten letters. However, I found it odd that whenever we talked, he’d ask how much weight I’d lost. At a size 6, I certainly didn’t consider myself overweight by any means but I guess he did. At that, I went on a diet so the next time he called, I’d be ready with an answer. I did lose weight before I saw him again. I ate nothing but popcorn and drank only diet Pepsi for 2 months. I lost ten pounds. He came home for ten days at Christmas that year in 1982. We dated the entire time he was home. In fact, I stayed at his parent’s home, as mine was many miles into the country. At the end of those ten days, on a Sunday afternoon, he flew back to Fort Hood, Texas where he was stationed. I was devastated. I’d never been in love before but, if this is what it felt like, I didn’t ever want it to end! Never had I felt so cherished in all my life. No one had ever paid attention to or treated me the way he did. Before he went to the airport, he told me he had left something for me on my bed. It was his military photo, and written on the back were these words: “Always remember that I care and love you. I’ll return real soon for you. BJ” That was when tears found the edge of my eyes. I couldn’t hold them back any longer. I laid down on the bed and cried myself to sleep. Three days later, he called me and asked me to marry him. Of course I said yes and the wedding plans commenced. I married my handsome, young Army officer in April of 1983. I vowed to follow him for as long as I lived. No matter where life took us, I was marked for life as his. Not only did I wear his ring, he was inscribed on my heart through a covenant. I knew we would get through anything life threw at us because we had each other and, more importantly, we had Jesus. Two days after the wedding, we set off on our honeymoon. We drove across the country from the state of Washington to Fort Hood, Texas and started our life together. At first, I was excited about my new way of life. I was happy to be his wife and just wanted to take care of him. At 19, I had fun as I set up our little, one bedroom apartment and cooked the few recipes I had learned in my mom’s kitchen. The distance between Texas and my former home, in the countryside hills of Oregon, didn’t seem so far as long as I stayed busy. But it didn’t take long before the reality of military life hit me. It certainly was not like any movies I’d ever seen, nor was it like the TV shows M*A*S*H or Army Wives. Not. Even. Close. The nature of his job kept him at work 12 to 14 hours a day. I was not used to being alone so much. I missed my family and my best friend terribly. I’m sure the letters I wrote during those lonely times sounded like I was miserable but I wasn’t as long as he was home. But when he was gone, the days would drag. He suggested I find a gym to join

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