Mourning Into Dancing

“Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed…” (Lamentations 3:22).

When I was a little girl, I was given really extreme consequences for things that were, in retrospect, relatively minor. The punishments were usually meant to humiliate and shame me. The worst part was that I never knew when the next consequence was coming. As a result, I had a lot of low-level anxiety throughout my childhood.

Once, when I was seven, I didn’t finish getting ready for school on time. My consequence was to go to school dressed only in my underwear. I remember sitting huddled in the backseat of our grey Honda Accord while being driven to school. Hoping to somehow be rescued from my nakedness. Terrified that my little friends would see my small body exposed with only a small pair of Strawberry Shortcake panties to cover me.

I wasn’t rescued that day. Instead, I spent the day in the guidance counselor’s office. I passed the hours making dolls out of Kleenex. (I wonder now, why did they let me go home?)

I remember these experiences pretty disspassionately. I guess I’ve always thought of my childhood as normal - I didn’t know anything else. And I’ve never seen any value in going back and bringing up these old memories. I think I’m afraid I’ll start to feel something instead of just feeling numb -and then what will I do?

The memory of what happened to me that day has been on my mind lately. And I think it’s because I am feeling exposed again. Afraid that if I open the door fully to God that I won’t be rescued.

Keeping these places shut away and forgotten has worked pretty well for thirty years. But lately…not so much. I know now that God is wanting ALL of my life. He is wanting access to all the places that I want to forget. He wants my future and somehow He wants my past, too. It is clear to me that the Lord is unwilling to let me ignore the things that I am afraid to acknowledge. And, friends, I am terrified.

But I have a new Father. One who covers me, who clothes me, who protects me, who hides me. All the things that were not true of my earthly parents are gloriously true of my Heavenly Father.

I am willing to open up the door and trust that He will be faithful. He is promising me that “because of His great love I am not consumed.” No matter what I face, no matter what is uncovered, because of HIS love for me…I will be okay. In fact, I will be more than okay. I will be free.

Lord, thank you that you now clothe me with joy (Psalm 30). Your love overwhelms my soul, Jesus. I open every door and give you full access to my heart this day. I surrender my whole life to you. Amen.

I am tarred. Extremely tarred. Hey, I’ve just gotten back from East Tennessee and I can say things like “tarred”, o-kay?

Here is what I should not do when I am really tired: make decisions and have important problem-solving conversations with my husband (And, NO, I’m not going to share any details of why that is a good idea. I mean, I already confessed last week to swearing at Hugh in anger. Enough of that!).

Also, I should not pack my week so full of stuff that I have no time to unpack let alone be a support to my husband during his really stressful week.

Wow. Now I’m thinking of ten other things I should be doing differently. It’s amazing how quickly negative “you should/you really need to” thinking takes over my mind.

Enough of what I should and shouldn’t do this week. I’m tarred, therefore, I am choosing to:

1. Cancel two different commitments (friends tell me they read my blog and then wait for the email that it’s their playdate/lunch that I backing out of…that totally cracks me up).

2. Not stress about fine-tuning my church volunteer training process. It needs to be done, but it can wait a couple more weeks.

3. Try to take a nap.

4. Make some homemade food for my family.

5. Spend significant amounts of time with my six year-old son, Jon-David, who started classes this morning at our local University Model School.

6. Pray through my feelings of guilt about this. Then reread Marybeth’s email to me that reminds me to be free from guilt.

7. Shave my legs.

8. Read all the holiday magazines I’ve bought at Target to get ideas for Thanksgiving Dinner.

9. Pray with my accountability partner ASAP. When Amanda prays for me, she ALWAYS blesses and encourages me in Jesus. Every single time. She is the biggest blessing of my life, after my family.

10. Write, write, write for my blog. Because I LOVE my blog and after THIS post I want to write about other things this week. Things that will encourage people in Jesus. And I don’t know that sharing about shaving my legs is all that encouraging!!

I love lists like this. They give me perspective and clarify my priorities. Yes, reading a magazine is on my list. But so is cooking for my family and spending time with my son. Ahh! This is a great list!

Have a blessed Monday, Precious Friends!!

I am sitting in a hotel room. My three children are supposed to be asleep. Uh, yeah. I can hear the giggling and occasional punch being thrown in the “bedroom” part of our suite.

My husband has a major thing for work for the next seven days. It will keep him so busy and he has so much to do that his parents suggested we meet in Tennessee for a little reunion. This would give Hugh the extra time he needs to work.

I could drive up with my children! We could go to Cracker Barrel and sleep in a hotel! I can just throw an extra change of clothes in a bag and hit the road! What a great idea!

So I thought I could have a great attitude. But as I threw things in the minivan this morning, I could feel myself getting more and more tense. What if my children have melt-downs the entire trip and don’t sleep? What if I can’t assert myself in front of my husband’s family with things like bedtime and sugary snacks? Why am I doing this?

Here is my answer: I have no idea. I’ve just made up my sofa bed in my suite at the American Classic Inn. My feet hurt and I’ve yelled at my children a lot. (And I really don’t yell at them very much. I promise.) I can feel my crankiness about to explode all over my hotel room wall that is decorated with a framed picture of a cardinal perched on a wagon wheel.

How can I find the peace of God in this situation? (See, I really blog just for me. To compel myself to find the Lord in every aspect of my daily life. To push my heart to find His face and hear His voice, even on the sofa bed without my husband).

O-kay. Before I left this morning I read in Galatians for a while. Let’s see…(I’m actually grabbing it as I write… Blog Live tonight, friends)… Wait a second, my daughter is peeing in a pot because her baby sister is asleep in a Pack ‘n Play in the bathroom.

All right. Galatians. Of course. 5:22, Lord.

“But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control…”

So if the Holy Spirit can produce this kind of fruit in my life, He can do it anywhere. Even on a road trip three hundred miles away from home without my husband. I just need to focus on the Lord’s truth instead of letting my circumstances overwhelm me. He is here with me. He can fill me RIGHT NOW. I will go and meditate on this verse. I will write it out and claim it over my heart this night and for this trip.

So, Holy Spirit, I surrender to you in this moment. Come and fill me with Your fruit in every situation. Let me bear much fruit so that I can glorify the name of Jesus wherever I am. I love you. AMEN.

Guess who found scissors last night after she had been put to bed?

And guess who first noticed the hair missing from the back of her head?

Guess which one of us cried more?

Guess who had to pick up the hair that was all over the floor and put it outside in the garage where his wife couldn’t see it because he knew the sight of the hair might send her over the edge?

Guess who has Christmas portraits sittings scheduled five days from today?

Guess who is taking her three children to a family reunion tomorrow in Tennessee and wants those children to look presentable for people they see only once a year?

The good news is that I live near this affluent area of town where everyone makes a lot more money than we do. Result: Expensive children-only hair salon. Complete with TVs for the children to watch while they get their hair cut. Seats in the shapes of ducks and trains for the children to sit in. Lollipops and high-end hair products. Seriously. I was going to pick up a bottle of detangler for my daughters but it was TEN DOLLARS. (I pay ninety-nine cents for detangler at Target.)

So we now have a plan with Hannajean’s new hair stylist, Marina. No more SuperCuts for my daughter. I mean, I guess now that she’s four it’s time she crossed over into the world of expensive hair treatments, right?

Phase one: (today) Trim and blend the chunks of hair she chopped off in the back. Try to blend in her bangs (uh, she didn’t have bangs yesterday, o-kay?) with the rest of her hair.

Phase two: (the next four weeks) Spend a lot of time each morning doing my daughter’s hair so that you can’t see the missing chunks. This involves a really complicated twist and several hair bands but will look pretty good for…

Phase three: (four weeks and one day) Get Hannajean’s Christmas picture done late this year. But hopefully in time to send out Christmas cards. I think God gave me kids to break me of the need to control because I ALWAYS get my children’s Christmas pictures done the last week of October and then I get them back in time to assemble and label my Christmas cards which I mail the day after Thanksgiving. Hmmm. Well, I know it sounds obsessive, but I am WORKING HARD TO BECOME A RELAXED MOM AND ENJOY MY KIDS MORE.

Phase four: (four weeks and two days) Go back to the wonderful Marina who will give Hannajean her “transition cut” - a stacked bob right below her chin. Marina and I spent a lot of time discussing the length of the new chunks as it relates to a fashionable bob, the texture of my daughter’s hair, the benefits of good detanglers, etc..

Guess who’s going to be o-kay? (And I’ll give you a hint on this one. It’s not my daughter).

“There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves punishment, and the one who fears is not perfected in love” (1 John 4:18).

I am really not sure how I married such a great man. Not that Hugh wouldn’t be the first one to share his junk with you or tell you the amazing story of redemption in his own life - but he is still the gift from God to me that I am constantly surprised by.

Of course I forget this when I tap into the ol’ controlling-wife mode. I mean, I don’t want to control, at least I think I don’t. But if that’s true, then why do I punish him with my anger or tears for not doing what I want?

Yesterday I had asked for his help. He said (ARG!) he was tired but that he would be happy to help me tomorrow. Which unhealthy thing should I bring out…should I choose the anger? Or the crying? Hmmm.

I decided on anger. Anger is a bully. Anger tries to force others into doing what we want. Anger energizes me and tells me that I am important and I am right.

So I started into my angry bit. But something extremely unsettling happened for me.

It didn’t work this time.

He didn’t do what I wanted because I got mad. He sat me down and the couch and told me the following:

“I know you really want me to help you but I am not able to right now. And, you know, it’s okay with me that you are mad. I don’t want to be afraid of your anger or unhappiness. I don’t want to do things just because you are angry with me anymore. I want to love you better than that, Jess.”

Oh.

So, if anger doesn’t work, I should do….what?

I don’t know…maybe start laying my life down for him, too? Considering his needs more important than my own? I guess I could start with apologizing for my outburst and then asking God’s help the next time I believe the lie that anger ever gets me what I want.

That’s where I’ll start.

Lord, thank you that you forgive all my sins - even my anger. I love you so much! Thank you for helping me to learn to live a life characterized by your love and joy…and thank you for a husband who loves me enough to not let me dump on him. In the name of Your Son, Amen.

“…let the Holy Spirit guide your lives” (Gal. 5:16).

Today I made myself an amazing breakfast. Ironically, this was to celebrate the first time I have exercised in a month - I figured it was a fitting reward. As I chomped heartily on my eggs and drank my grapefruit juice, I put on Joyce Meyer.

Wow. It’s been a really long time since I’ve watched Joyce. I used to watch Joyce Meyer daily in college. Hugh and I traveled to her conferences while we were dating and I cried the first time I saw her live. Joyce was my first Bible teacher, the first person who showed me how to enjoy the Word.

Joyce, I’m happy to report, is doing well. She looks great and is still speaking truth that pierces me within two minutes of watching her program. My nugget from Joyce for today is:

You’re not a failure because you fail. You’re a failure if you stop trying.

It was a “push-pause-and-take-a-breath” moment for me. I struggle with feeling like a failure in so many areas, instead of focusing on all the many ways the Lord has brought victory in my life. And the areas that need some work? Well, I’m trying.

But here is the other part of it for me. I spend A LOT of time trying. Trying to be the ideal mom, a great friend, accomplished homemaker, wife, and church volunteer. It would only take me about two seconds to come up with a HUGE list of the many ways I need to improve in each of those areas. I am painfully aware of my shortcomings.

Instead of spending so much time trying, I want to learn to slow down and celebrate where I am. To find the joy in this moment. Instead of focusing on the poor behavior of my children - I could spend some time enjoying my children. Ohh…to laugh with my two year old…to build a fort with my son…to make a mess with flour and sugar while making cookies with my daughter. These are the things I long to do - and I end up not doing them because I’m too busy trying to be a better mother.

There is joy here and now. This part of the journey is filled with blessings to savor and taste. There are moments of overwhelming peace and contentment to be found today. There is nothing more I need to do, nothing more I need to become in order to begin experiencing joy.

I simply need to ask. And then, through the power of Christ in me, I can slow down and take in all richness of the life that He offers me daily.

Lord, thank you for Your grace.  I ask You to fill me with a sense of Your contentment and peace about who I am in You.  Please show me the little joys hidden in my life.  I love You, Jesus…

“O Lord, how long will you forget me? Forever? How long will you look the other way? How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul, with sorrow in my heart every day? How long will my enemy have the upper hand?…But I trust in your unfailing love. I will rejoice because you have rescued me. I will sing to the Lord because he is good to me” (Psalm 13).

Yesterday morning I had three hours to myself. Most of the time, I feel a lot of pressure with the unexpected gift of a chunk of time by myself. “I feel like I need to really work hard to relax. To make it count.” I say this to my husband, who rolls his eyes and says that’s really not the point. That putting pressure on myself to relax will probably keep me from enjoying the time at all. He’s right, of course.

I filled my Eddie Bauer tote bag with my Bible, prayer notebook, and IPod. Then I headed for the Prayer Room - a quiet room at a local church where I have sought refuge for years. I go there when I need to be truly alone with the Lord. The atmosphere is peaceful, the walls are a light brown with painted scripture, and there are several copies of the Bible scattered around the room. Lots of green church chairs. Low lighting. A leather couch with two pillows - the place I always settle in.

And I spent some time reading the Bible, mostly in Psalms. It seems like the Psalms are speaking so much to me right now- the cry of the Psalmist resonates with me during this season of change. I pray the words back to the Lord…how long?…why?….The thing that I really love about the Psalms is how the writers long to worship the Lord. As I read Psalm 13, I felt my own desire to worship the Lord rise up in me.

Yes, I had come to the Prayer Room in a horrible mood. Yes, I have a lot of unanswered questions right now. Yes, I feel covered in heaviness and, in some ways, far from God. But I can still worship Him. I can still enter His Presence, bringing Him my brokenness and waiting for Him to fill me.

I began to sing…loudly (I don’t usually sing loudly in the Prayer Room in case someone comes in - but I’ve never seen anyone there). I rose to my feet. I raised my hands. I began to dance and cry before God. Yes! He is worthy! Yes! He is mighty to be praised in spite of my circumstances! Yes! He fills me with joy in the middle of my darkness! He is a wonderful God! OH! I love Him…I love Him.

Then I laughed. Because His Presence was so sweet to me and somehow so unexpected. And I kept laughing…just because He was so good to meet with me.

That was my time in the Prayer Room. And I wanted to share it because I feel like what I’ve been writing about lately is heavy, dark, hard - because that’s where I am right now. Some of the effects of my childhood pain and abuse have surfaced, and I have to confront them. I don’t want to at all - because the result is really painful. But in the middle of the pain, God is going to give me moments of laughter and dancing and worship. Strength for the journey, filling my spirit. And it reassures me that in spite of how I feel or where I am that my God is taking care of me. Holding me in His hand. So I can relax.

God, I love you. Thank you for the privilege of worshiping you. You are Holy, Lord. Holy Spirit, help me to understand I can trust you with the different seasons of my life, even the hard ones. In Jesus name, Amen.

Great is His faithfulness; His mercies begin afresh every morning” (Lamentations 3:23).

This morning I wanted to help wake up the world. To watch the sky turn from black to white outside my small window. I needed to crawl out of bed, climb into my prayer chair and open the Word. I wanted to interact with Lamentations 3 in a concrete way….to whisper to myself, “His mercies are new every morning…His mercies are new every morning.” I wrote it out in my prayer journal, named my specific sins, asked for His forgiveness.

I wonder at my divided nature. Six hours ago, I was swearing and crying at my husband over a pile of blankets at the top of the stairs. “Please help me clean the upstairs tomorrow,” I asked, panicking over the things I had left undone. He replied that tomorrow was a busy day and…

I exploded.

Yet His mercies are new at 6:10am with my Pumpkin Spice coffee. I do have a busy day in front of me. I need to do about twelve things before leaving for church in an hour (and that doesn’t include getting my children dressed and fed). To somehow try to shower and eat a quick breakfast before rushing out the door to celebrate the Sabbath.

But the Spirit called to me and I had to answer. To repent for last night and meditate on the truth of His forgiveness and ask for grace for this new day. Maybe today will be the day that I show Christ’s love perfectly to my family. Or maybe this is unrealistic. Instead, the best way for me to become like Jesus is to be characterized by humility and a hunger for His Word.

So this morning I met with the Lord and renewed my heart. It is light outside my window now, illuminating my coffee mug and jar of pencils in the windowsill. I breathe in the light of God into my own heart, thankful that His mercies never fail. Ever.

Great is His faithfulness to me.

Thank you for forgiving me when I fall, Lord. I receive your forgiveness this day, in the name of your Precious Son. Thank you for meeting with me and speaking to me through Your Word. I love you, Jesus. Amen.