Mourning Into Dancing

“In times of trouble, may the Lord answer your cry.
May the name of the God of Jacob keep you safe from all harm.
May he send you help from his sanctuary
and strengthen you from Jerusalem.
May he remember all your gifts
and look favorably on your burnt offerings.
May he grant your heart’s desires
and make all your plans succeed.
May we shout for joy when we hear of your victory
and raise a victory banner in the name of our God.
May the Lord answer all your prayers” (Psalm 20:1-5).

The first time I exploded with anger at my husband, I thought I was going to die. Standing in the middle of my small apartment in married student housing - shaking, sweating, swearing - I told my husband I wished he would leave me. I told him I hated him. I imagined what it would feel like to attack him.

Who was this woman? A few months earlier I had stood next to him in our small chapel, veil down and eyes shining, my heart full of love for this man. We held damp hands and grinned through our whole wedding ceremony. Our reception at a local country club was a like a dream - I drifted through the night greeting friends and laughing. I ate nothing of the menu I had so agonizingly picked out.

Our honeymoon at a tiny cabin in the mountains was a continuation of the dream - the nights were great, but traipsing around little stores in the nearby town was great, too. We ate fudge, watched “Blue’s Clues”, and talked about the family we would raise.

It wasn’t long before the honeymoon ended and we went home. Something about marriage brought out new and unfamiliar emotions in me. My feelings of love for Hugh faded and were soon replaced by an explosive anger that lashed out suddenly, painfully.

He touched me in the wrong way - and I smacked him.

He got irritated about the grocery bill - and I started swearing, slamming the door behind me.

If he tried to keep talking to me once I started to feel upset, I would push and kick him until he would leave me alone.

Any conflict we had would send me into an emotional tailspin as I tried unsuccessfully to deal with the anger that was overtaking me. Although I knew Christ, I felt completely trapped by my emotions. The anger I had was constantly raging inside of me, slowly destroying my new marriage.

When Paul cries out “Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death?” (Romans 7:24), I can understand at the deepest level how he felt when he wrote those words. Finally, after months of living with this rage, I had a moment of piercing clarity:

Either I would submit my life completely to God, or I would lose Hugh.

It was as simple as that. I knew that I couldn’t keep hurting my husband and expect that we would somehow survive.

Slowly I broke the bondage of rage off my life. I started memorizing scripture about anger, I spent consistent time with God most mornings, and I started learning about the Holy Spirit.

While Romans 7 is Paul’s painfully accurate description of the struggle that we face against our sin-nature, the next chapter is full of references to the Holy Spirit - the most references of any chapter in the Bible. I began to study Romans 8 with diligence.

Paul states, “…the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death…the mind set on the flesh is death, but the mind set on the Spirit is life and peace…if Christ is in you, though the body is dead because of sin, yet the Spirit is alive because of righteousness…”

These words changed my life as I realized the power in these verses. Jesus set me free from sin - all sin, including rage. I began to understand that my spirit was alive in Christ, not dead to sin. My spirit, my very own spirit, is alive because of righteousness.

I slowly began to digest these truths. I began to realize that the more time I spent in God’s Word and at His feet, the less I struggled with rage towards my precious man.

A friend once told me, “You know that God has really redeemed something in you when people look at your life and won’t be able to believe what God has brought you out of… It will almost be unbelievable to you, too. You will almost struggle to remember it.”

She is right. Even as I write about this chapter of my marriage, I want to pause and say, “God, really? Was I this controlled by rage? I can’t really remember what that even feels like.”

His redemption is complete; my marriage - though needing care and attention - is no longer scarred by my rage.

The anger I brought to my marriage as a new wife is no longer a source of shame. It has instead become a victory banner that I raise high in the name of my God (Psalm 20:5).

And as I raise my banner, I am full of faith and confidence in the One who set me free. I have learned through tears and perseverance that it does not matter the mountain I face - everything flung at His feet in brokenness is healed.

Jesus, you are my Healer. You are my redeemer. Thank you for sending me help from your sanctuary on my day of trouble - how faithful you are to me! I am so in love with you!

In the middle of my bad-migraine-children-sick-bed-totally-not- made-week, Lori at Simple Life at Home blessed me with “Blogging With A Purpose” award. Not only does Lori have a great blog, but her blog also holds a special place in my heart as the first blog I started reading consistently that was written by someone I didn’t know in real life. But Lori’s humor, walk with God, and hunger for excellence drew me in right away!

I love the word “purpose.” I feel like a had a very clear purpose in starting my blog - I wanted to be able to share what God was doing each day in my life. I wanted a forum to be able to freely encourage other people in my life to run harder after Jesus. What I didn’t expect was for my blog to encourage ME to run after Christ more. In sharing my thoughts, writing out scripture, wrestling through words - somehow I am changed as I go deeper with God.

I am completely surprised. Anne Lamott says that “writing has so much to give, so much to teach, so many surprises,” and I have found this to be true. Through writing, I feel like I am learning more about myself and more about God.

How fun is that!

The rules for accepting the “Blogging With a Purpose” award state that you must nominate five people for the award.

I am nominating:

Marybeth at Cheaper by the Half Dozen: Marybeth has taught me a great deal about purpose. Through her honesty and humor, she encourages women to pursue God’s call on their lives - no matter what is it.

Kimberly at A Planting of the Lord: There are really no words to describe how wonderful her blog is. Kimberly’s blog is so rich with the Presence of God. I mean, she is so real about what God is showing her - Every time I read her blog, I am blessed. Every. Time.

Cindy at Still His Girl - Cindy is this incredible mix of laughter, Jesus, honesty, and mentoring for me. I read her blog looking for the wisdom she gives about how to love God and raise her family. I do feel mentored by her in some ways, and I am so grateful for her words and openness about her life.

Robyn at Overflowing Grace - O-kay. This woman is awesome. Robyn is one of the best blog writers out there and she is so full of God’s Word. The insights that she writes flowing from her relationship with Christ are such a blessing to me in my own walk with God.

Dawn at My J Crew - Not only is Dawn one of my good friends, but her blog is one of the highlights of my day. Dawn is transparent and funny and delightful and…when I read her blog, I smile and feel like I have some perspective on my own life.

Every single one of these women is sure to delight you if you check them out!

And, nominated ladies, the rules for the Blogging With A Purpose Award are:

1. Awarded parties must nominate five people who have not received the award.
2. The blogs that receive the award must serve some purpose.
3. In their post about the award they need to link back to this entry.
4. Awarded parties must post the award banner on their site. The banner must remain linked to the above linked site.

I am off to have a wonderful, migraine-free day!

When you wake up with a dull headache in the morning that develops into a migraine by the afternoon, your life takes on a certain clarity. You realize:

1. In fact, your head has hurt you for all of your adult life. You do not remember what it feels like to have a pain-free brain. You imagine taking a drill to your skull and letting the headache drip on the floor. You imagine the color of the drill.

2. Because you are imagining the color of the drill you want to take to your head, you realize that your worst fear has come true. You are, after all, mentally imbalanced. You will never live a normal life. This doesn’t really bother you because your head hurts so much.

3. Your three-year-old wakes up from her nap screaming. You never realized until this moment that she sounds like the Nazgul from the Lord of the Rings trilogy. She shrieks and shrieks while clutching her blanket. You cover your ears and close your eyes and think about the lovely drill.

4. You decide to put on five hours of PBS kids for your children (and the Nazgul). Then you remember that your husband has told you recently that “we are using television to babysit the kids, Jess. We’ve got to stop this.” ARGH! In a surprise move, you pull out a bunch of educational toys and lie on the bed watching your children play with pattern blocks and foam letters. You cannot believe you have battled the urge to turn on the television - and WON!

5. You take your migraine prescription medication and immediately experience: tingling in your hands and feet, nausea, and fatigue. You flomp on your bed and wonder why you took the medicine because YOUR HEAD STILL HURTS. You become angry with the large pharmaceutical companies for producing medication with horrible side effects (but you assume that this irrational anger is due to your mental imbalance).

6. You get out of bed and “prepare for the migraine”. This is the complicated procedure you do when you feel a migraine coming on in which you run around and clean the house. You get everything ready for the next few hours as you will be spending them in your room watching “Iron Chef” reruns on mute with the lights off, sipping broth.

7. The Nazgul has finally stopped crying. You tell her to climb up on the bed with you where you can watch the Food Network together. You hold her. You vow to stop thinking about the drill.

You realize that, perhaps, life will go on after your headache goes away.

“Those who say they can live in a state of prayer without stated times for prayer will probably find themselves without both.”

-Writer unknown, quote taken from my Devotional Bible

When I was pregnant with Lucy, I developed a rare medical condition that left me on bed rest for six long months. For the first several weeks in the bed, I spent most of my time watching HGTV and feeling guilty about all the dinners that people in my church were bringing me and my family.

But there is only so much HGTV one can watch.

Finally I put down the remote, and I made a conscious decision not to waste this time. Any energy I had (which wasn’t much) would be spent two ways: first, I would try to pour love on my two rambunctious toddlers who didn’t understand why I could not get up, and secondly, I would pray.

I put together a little basket of things and put it beside the bed. My Bible and (empty) prayer notebook went in the basket. So did a Bible study on the Tabernacle. So did the Tylenol and the Kleenex.

The next morning, I grabbed my basket and started talking to God. I began praying about all the emotions I was having about being on bed rest. I told the Lord my fear that my children would be permanently scarred by this pregnancy. I wept as I talked to Him about the overwhelming depression I had as I stared day after day at the same yellow walls of my bedroom.

“Heal me!” I cried, grabbing the Kleenex. “Please, God. I know that you can.”

His voice answered - the Voice we know from the first second we hear it - and spoke to my weepy heart.

“There are things I can teach you through this time, Jess. Things you can learn even if you are not healed.”

It took many more months of seeking Him daily to understand what He was whispering to me that day. God wanted to teach me to be sustained by His Presence, no matter what was happening in my life.

I wasn’t healed. I finished out six long months in my yellow room…but it no longer felt like a prison to me. Instead, I spent more and more time seeking His face, learning to be filled only with God, even when my body was failing me and my emotions were out of control.

The experience of being on extended bed rest and living with the chronic pain of my illness is something I would never want to go through again. Yet, as in all things God redeems, I learned something that made the pain worth it.

After six months of spending extended time with God every day, I developed a hunger for Him like I never had before in my life. I became accustomed to spending long periods of time in the Word, and even longer periods of praying. I began to learn what it means to live daily in His Presence, filled continually with His Word and His Holy Spirit.

It’s been three years since I left the bed, but this morning I was reminded of that time when I read in Psalm 18 that “He pulled me out of deep waters… the Lord was my support. He brought me out to a wide open place, He rescued me because He delighted in me.”

Now, with a healthy body and a full life, it’s a little harder to find the time to be in His Word. It takes effort to c-a-r-v-e out the time to sit and be still before my God and linger in His Presence.

But the lesson I learned in the dark continues to teach me, and I know now that I need Him deeply every day. Even if finding that time is difficult, it is worth the effort to get to that place.

The wide open place of His Presence… The place of His joy… The place of perfect peace and contentment. The place to which He takes His children because “He delights in them.”

And He whispers again each morning, “Jess, there are things I can teach you…”

Thank you for the things you teach in the dark, God. Thank you for redeeming even the hard times in my life to bring me closer to you. I want to know you more, Jesus - in every situation, in every moment, in every breath. Come and fill me this day with your Presence. In the name of Jesus, Amen.

…Spent two hours aligning my book column.

…Discussed my font with me for a half hour then proceeded to switch it all around.

…Created new pages for my blog and a new bloggy email, even though he had already spent a long time on other things for my blog.

…Didn’t complain when I couldn’t figure out how to load my new tulip picture on my sidebar (even though I tried!). And he acted interested when I explained how symbolic the picture is because “tulips are my favorite flower and the road in the back is just like how I’m on a journey, you know?”

…Is the man who makes me feel that, yes, somehow, I am so valuable… my blogging so important… that he will spend as much time as it takes for me to look over his shoulder, squeal, and say…

“It’s perfect!”

“Touch and taste the symbols of Jesus’ death for you. Touch and taste the reality that you are that valuable to Him.”
- a red piece of paper taped to a mirror next to me

The glass bowl in front of me holds several instant-communion kits. Each little cup has a squirt of juice in the bottom and a little round wafer on top - all plastic-sealed for convenience.

Someone had taped thoughts about communion on the mirror over the desk where I sat. “Remember Jesus broken so that you might be made whole,” the words gently tell me, as I sit alone in this space with my prayer notebook and Bible in hand.

This room is in a part of town I never visit. A homeless man was picking up trash outside - and I almost didn’t come in. I have, surprisingly, disappointingly, become very accustomed to my very clean and slightly affluent suburb full of Targets, Starbucks, and more all-brick homes for sale than I want to think about.

But I did walk in. After all, the afternoon is mine, Hugh said. The prayer room downtown is great, Lisa said.

And I find myself staring at the glass bowl, Bible in hand, wondering if I can take communion alone. Or, rather, one-on-one with Him.

I flip open to Matthew and read the verses about the Last Supper under my breath, amazed again that Jesus knew what was about to happen to Him. That He was about to die and take my place. But before He did, He instructed us in how to remember Him.

“Remember,” He said, looking around at His friends.

“Remember,” He says to me.

I open the top of my little cup. I put the wafer on my tongue, then take it out again quickly.

I want to come, need to come with a clean heart.

For my anger this week, God forgive me.

For judging my friends, God forgive me.

For my selfishness towards the people I love, God forgive me.

For caring more what others think about me than what You think about me, God forgive me.

I put the round wafer back in my mouth; it’s wet and chewy now from my first attempt. I let it melt on my tongue - remembering His sacrifice, acknowledging His forgiveness for my sin.

I read the rest of the Matthew verses out loud, then drink the little juice. It’s bitter and sort of chunky. What if I get sick from taking communion? Surely God will protect me, I think as I chug down some vitamin water to wash the bitter taste from my mouth.

I settle back into my seat, and His Presence somehow fills me more deeply than before.

How long has it been since I have meditated on this? How often do I remember Jesus broken? I so often focus on myself being broken, struggling to live with some sort of victory and success.

But as I remember the Cross, the rest fades. I decrease, and He increases. My life and my focus return to Him - the one who stole my heart fifteen years ago when I first realized that He was broken for me.

And “He emptied Himself by assuming the form of a slave, taking on the likeness of men. And when He had come as a man in His external form, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death - even to death on a cross” (Philippians 2:7-8).

For me.

So I sit and I sit in this place, and I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave the mirror and the bowl (with one communion kit fewer, now). Like Peter on the mountain with Jesus, I want to say, “Lord, it’s wonderful to be here! I’ll make three shelters as memorials - one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah” (Matthew 17:4). Let’s just stay here, remembering, he says.

He doesn’t want to leave, and neither do I.

So maybe just a few more minutes, Lord. I’ll sit for a few more minutes before I, too, leave the mountain, slip my shoes on, and depart the holy ground where I spent time remembering what you did for me.

Just a little longer, Lord.

THE SETTING:

Jess’ Purple Prayer Chair. Jess is sitting looking out the window with her Bible open in her lap. Rain is falling gently outside. A pumpkin-scented candle is flickering on the window sill.

JESS (TO HERSELF, OPENING HER COMPUTER): Ahhh! What a wonderful time of prayer. God, you were so good to speak to me today. I can’t wait to write about my time with you today. You are so good…

(SOUNDS OF LAPTOP LOADING)

Well, maybe I’ll just quickly check Marybeth’s blog before I start.

CLICK.

Hmm…Ooo! Yea! She has a new post…Um, “A Day Off”…A day off from motherhood. Wow. Yes. That is just what I need. I want a day off. I think I’ll leave her a comment. Oh…look at these comments she got on an earlier post.

CLICK.

Blah…blah…blah…Who is this woman posting a comment?

CLICK.

Oh, wow. Look at her blog. It is so pretty. I wonder if she paid someone to design it. Look at the colors. Man, I wish I could pay someone to work on my blog. My blog is SOOOOOOO boring. It always looks the same. Why can’t I update it like Erin. I mean, she is always changing her blog…

CLICK.

Oooo. Look at this! Erin’s husband is so awesome. I can’t believe how Erin always talks about how great her husband is on her blog. Why don’t I do that? What is wrong with me? I only talk about how I need to work on my marriage. Maybe I should try to write a list of nice things about Hugh…Wait. I wonder if Dawn has posted that she’s pregnant yet.

CLICK.

Yeah! She has. And look at that cute picture of her son. I can’t believe she’s pregnant. She is such a better mom than me. I mean, she’s actually excited to be having a fourth child. I think if I found out I was pregnant, I would become seriously depressed and become an even worse mom… [addressing self in a confrontational, yet loving manner] O-kay, Jess. Stop the negative self-talk. Remember the email Cindy sent you last week about parenting? The one that really encouraged you?

CLICK.

I can’t believe how many people always comment on Cindy’s blog. What is up? I mean, she must have a million friends. I only have two friends. Maybe it’s because she is a lot more wise then me. I should try to be more wise. Like, maybe I should wisely try to limit my blog time. Didn’t someone just blog about that…? Oh, yeah!

CLICK.

Wow. Kimberly has a REALLY cool-looking blog. And a great name…Hmmm. “Planting of the Lord.” Very nice.

Maybe I should change the name of my blog…

CLICK.

(SPREADSHEET OPENS, JESS BEGINS TO TYPE)

“Jess is Not a Mess”… (This is good. Very clear. It’s not all about me being raised in dysfunction.)

“Streams In the Desert”… (Very nice - but already taken by an author like 100 years ago.)

“I Love Hugh”… (I like this. It addresses my problem of not being positive enough about my husband. I can make my whole blog centered around my love for him… It will will a hugh-blog… A “hulog”. Hmm.)

Ok. Enough of this crap. Oh, wait. I am trying not to say “crap” anymore. I’ve even told John this during our “Small Groups Team Update” phone meeting. John has a great blog…

CLICK.

Look how focused John is in his blog. It’s all about his vision for being a small groups Pastor. Maybe my blog needs more vision and focus.

CLICK.

(FRONT PAGE OF JESS’ BLOG APPEARS)

Well, it doesn’t look that bad. And I’m fairly focused. I like my pictures and my blogroll… Oooo. Look at all the great books I’m reading. Hm…let me reread this thing I just wrote…

(JESS READS)

Well. It’s pretty good. I like how I shared what God showed me yesterday in my time with Him. Too bad I don’t have time today to write anything. But, somehow, the time flew by and I didn’t have the time to really write.

Maybe tomorrow.

“On the last and most important day of the festival, Jesus stood up and cried out, ‘If anyone is thirsty, he should come to Me and drink’” (John 7:37).

I woke up thirsty. Parched. Tongue “sticking to the roof of my mouth” dry as I tried to get started on another day in my own strength. “Maybe today I’ll figure out the answer to what’s wrong with my attitude. Maybe today I’ll get it together.”

The moment my feet hit the floor, the Holy Spirit whispered softly, “Come. Don’t wait. Come pray right now.”

Oh.

I hadn’t planned on spending time with God this morning - Hugh had already left for work and I had approximately forty things to do in the next two hours.

But… maybe I could stick frozen waffles in the toaster and pour some milk for my children - then head upstairs for an hour.

Which I did.

As soon as I began to pray, God showed up. Right away. No easing into my time with Him, no quick reading of a devotional book to wake up my spirit - He just started talking.

I am not sure why I was surprised. I know He’s faithful, but on mornings when I feel discouraged about the struggles in my life, I expect Him to be silent.

His Presence was strong and sweet as I read Psalm 18. “…He is my strength…my rock…my fortress…my Savior…my shield…my place of safety….”

As I read the Word, I felt God speak to my heart about how to pray for my marriage that day. “Humility, honesty, and self-control…” I prayed for those things.

Then God started talking to me about my day. What to add to my day, what to take away.

I ended my prayer time with worship. I danced around the room overwhelmed with His Presence.

I couldn’t believe it. I mean, how can He care this much for me? His Spirit is longing for me and speaks through my cluttered mind to draw me into the Presence of the Father. All I have to do is throw some waffles in the toaster and then choose to go and spend time with Him.

All I have to do is show up.

I am not responsible for making Him talk, I am not responsible for making sure I glean stuff from the Bible, and I don’t have to work to hear from Him about my marriage or schedule.

He is in charge. And this morning when I didn’t even plan on spending time with Him, I was acutely aware of this.

It’s really all about Him. He’s the living water - all I have to do is take big, gulping sips of the water of His Presence that He is freely offering to me.

Oh, to stand under the fountain of the Living Water. To sit with arms outstretched in surrender as God fills me once again.

My worries are gone.

My insecurities are forgotten.

My sins are washed away.

My heart is clean.

Ahhh.

It is so good to be with Him.

Lord, thank you for drawing me to yourself with your Holy Spirit. You are all I need. Thank you for filling me up this day with You. I am so in love with you. In the name of Your Son, Amen.