Perfectly Imperfect

Two things (and a few additions along the way) set me on a journey that I would like to share with you: The book, “One Year to Live” by Stephen Levine, and “A Course in Miracles – Made Easy”, by Allen Cohen.

Spending each moment, each day, as though I only have this one year to live is not a stretch for me. I contemplate my death at times (come on, that’s not so crazy!) trying to realize how precious life is, how fleeting it is, and how much of it I have wasted.

The challenge of “One Year to Live” is to focus on the moment, not the past or the future. To consider what is really important and what is not, to leave a richer legacy for those I leave behind, and to have no regrets. All of which I do fairly well at times and suck at most of the time.

“The Course” promises to take me even deeper. “Mastering the journey from fear to love”.  I pray to be ever present to all God has to teach me along the way.

Levine considers this process “a restoration of the heart when we confront our life and death with mercy and awareness. A year-long experiment in healing, joy, and revitalization.”

(ACIM) “Every moment offers us a choice between fear and love. Fear hurts and love heals. There are no other choices. Answer fear with love and you will find the peace you seek.”

Just this short introduction to both these books has made it so clear that I have wasted more time in the past, in the negative, and in fear than I want to admit. God has given me this precious life, meant to be beautiful, abundant, and rich, and I have tasted such a small sample of it. But I’m still here, still breathing and I can begin again, and again.

(SL) “A year to live gives a person the power to heal that which remains unloved.” I have believed the lies that I am unworthy of love since childhood. I am always on guard to protect a fragile ego that I have created myself. The truth that longs to set me free from these lies is the fact that I am a child of a loving God; made in his image. I am not a worthless, invisible mess, and neither is anyone else. I don’t need to defend an image that is not reality and I don’t need to attack others to protect it.

(SL) “There are two main elements that constitute the foundation of this life’s renewal, (1) exploration of what has gone before and a way of clearing a path for what is to come, and (2), to become more present, more mindful of the process we call life.”

(ACIM) “When you challenge God as to how the world will be changed, his answer is: Through you. You bring the presence of God to the world simply by being yourself (your true self, not the self you created). Each time you choose, your choice is your evaluation of yourself.”

Stephen Levine says that this year should empower me to finally heal that part of me that still feels unloved. The part that is often unloving. Living the lies of the past powerfully impacted the present. What are my limiting beliefs that keep me stuck there? If can recognize them I can change them to empowering and positive beliefs.

All of this work to become aware and to let go of the past, is critical to the work God would have me do. Now I realize that my negative beliefs color my life and rob me of the love, joy and peace that are my birthright.

Yes, I make mistakes (DUH!). It is fear that keeps us from living fully and joyfully in the present. Why is it so hard to believe that God wants to use me (ME!) as a witness to his love?

If all of this isn’t challenging enough, I was also introduced to Marianne Williamson’s book, “The Gift of Change” which refers often to “A Course in Miracles”. Her book is so powerful and reaches to the depth of my being.

Then, I had the blessing of meeting for lunch with a dear friend who introduced me to Christine McDonald. Her story of being sex trafficked for almost twenty years, the drugs and homelessness, physical abuse and often torture, the sense of hopelessness and then the powerful way God moved in her life is a story beyond anything we could ever imagine. And her beautiful spirit is something to behold! I have read her book, “The Same Kind of Human” (which was being considered for a movie at the time).

Sometimes I question if I read too many things at one time. But then I think of it as having several friends and each has a unique relationship with me. All the books I am reading are speaking to that same depth of my heart but in different, unique ways. All sharing one important message, “You’ve got work to do, Linda”. So, shake off your doubts, acknowledge your fears and then let them go. I have plans for you and you’re not getting any younger – just sayin’”.

These teachings have been challenging to say the least. For sure, they are helping  guide me on this journey of change, renewal, awareness, and conviction. Conviction that now is the time. That whatever God has planned for me, whatever steps I have taken to this point, are all converging for a reason. I truly believe that the next adventure I sign up for, and I don’t even know what it is yet, will be my most significant. Ever!

Here is the common theme I see with these authors: meditation and contemplative practice are to be our most critical focus. Then, we focus on how that will be done. Those two things will demand more time and attention than I have ever given to anything.

To that end, I am compelled now to set all else aside and focus on God and on our relationship. That means more time sitting in his presence. Quietly. That’s huge for me! And listening – I’m so bad at listening!

Until now I could never have imagined such intensity of purpose. Fear has always kept me at a safe distance from it. But God has finally broken through this hard shell around my fragile heart.  I thought I had to be perfect for him to love me. But, he has shown me that I have misunderstood what Jesus meant by” perfection” in Matthew 5:48, which has been the cause of my pain and suffering because I felt I never measured up. The wholeness God offers us has nothing to do with perfection.

If we interpret Jesus’ saying, “You must be as perfect as God” through the lense of most religious teachings that has to mean that we can never, ever, ever sin. EVER! – then there’s no hope for any of us.

But many Scripture Scholars don’t believe that was what Jesus meant. Besides, if it was, and we became that perfect human what would we need God for? God knew we would all “sin and fall short”. It’s the nature of humanity.  So, let’s insert the word “strive”. Strive for perfection and when you screw up, which you will, seek God’s forgiveness, which he will, and move along.

I will end with something that will hopefully help you, as it has me: GET OVER YOURSELF! You’re welcome.

The Journey to Realness: Transforming Pain into Beauty

I have wasted a great deal of time lamenting my aging body. If I ever had ambitions of being a swimsuit model, that’s off the table. You’re welcome!

The wrinkles and bags seem to multiply by the day. It’s why I never want my picture taken. I figured that when I die, and my kids put together that poster board of memories, the “latest” photo of me will be a Glamour Shot from thirty years ago!

Every seasonal change prompts me to donate clothes I don’t wear, haven’t worn for the past ten years, and will likely never fit into again. When I’m finished, the “pile” of items usually consists of a pair of socks someone gave me for Christmas. That’s it. Because – well – maybe I’ll lose weight next year. Hope springs eternal!

My frequent adventures into reality never end well, as they usually prompt me to eat copious amounts of chocolate! Until yesterday, when I read a meditation by my all-time favorite author and human, Kate Bowler. It was titled “Becoming Real”, in which she shares her creation of the “Gospel of the Velveteen Rabbit.” It brought me to tears – good and bad.

Bowler tells us how sad the rabbit is because he’s so worn from being drug around through life. He’s become tattered and torn and fears he’ll be cast aside. No longer his beautiful, fluffy, shiny self. His buddy, the Skin Horse, who’s been around much longer and is much wiser, tells him, “That’s how you become real.”

Bowler explains, “We become real through our wear and tear. By healing from the cruelty we didn’t deserve. By being loved imperfectly and loving imperfectly. In both, we change and keep changing. As the Skin Horse explains, ‘Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off (check), and your eyes drop out (kinda), and you get loose in the joints and very shabby (check and check). But these things don’t matter because once you are Real, you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.’”

As I reflected on this meditation about the beauty of “being Real,” I realized how much I have focused on the wrong things. I spent so much time lamenting my childhood, the abuse of my mother, the sexual abuse, feelings of being invisible because none of my teachers ever questioned my acting out in school, and an attempted suicide in my twenties. I never allowed myself to see the inner beauty that has made me “Real.”

The transformation of a self-centered, angry, lost little girl to the person God created me to be from the beginning should be a cause for celebration! Has that erased all the bad memories? No. But it has helped relegate them to the past, where they no longer affect my sense of who I am, my worth, and my dignity.

I would not be caring or thoughtful of myself or others, drawn towards serving others, or know how much I have to be grateful for had I not accepted this journey. Even with all its rough patches and dark places, it has made me more joyful and fulfilled than I ever could have imagined.

Oh, believe me, I have many moments of admonition from God when I screw up. More than I care to admit. But my heart is open to seeing my faults and correcting them quickly. I can only do that through a newfound humility and the grace of God.

“Bad” Kids and “Hopeless” Saints

I recently completed chaplaincy training for my church, making me a “certified” Lay Chaplain – yeah, me! My long-held desire to work with kids in Juvenile Detention will soon be realized.

During this celebratory moment, I had an encounter with someone that I did not see coming. When I excitedly told him about my graduation and plans to work with the kids, he said, “Oh, the bad kids”. Alrighty then – a remark from a “Christian” kid who wants for nothing.

That was the conversation that prompted this post. My immediate response to him was that there are no “bad” kids, just kids who have made bad choices, often in the midst of circumstances likely out of their control. I know those kids well, having been one myself. No, I was never in jail, but there were times I came close.

Over many years, I have worked with kids in varied ministries and jobs and have shared those stories in past posts. I’ll tell you about two that profoundly impacted my life:

It all started about forty years ago when I decided it would be fun to put together a youth group at our church. I wasn’t really “qualified” to lead a youth program, so I embarked on a three-year Youth Ministry Studies Program.

I came out on the other side, brought together some amazing young adults to help lead it, and it took off. It didn’t seem too intimidating. You know, “good” kids just having fun together and learning a bit about God at the same time.

I recall one incident during that time that deeply impacted me! Two brothers came. One of them, I’ll call him John, always seemed to be bored to death. I often witnessed his brother’s cruel remarks toward him in front of everyone, but this kid kept coming every week.

One time, we put our chairs in a circle for a discussion. John pulled his chair up outside the circle, slumped back, and folded his arms, signaling total indifference. Subtle but noticeable. So, I asked a question. A few of the kids responded, and then John responded. I said to him, “That’s a great answer, John. I would not have thought of that!” Then, he looked at his brother, smiled smugly, and pulled his chair into the circle. Subtle again, right? Until you know his story. Then you realize how profound that gesture was.

John’s family was a mess. His brother excelled in everything he did, and their parents often reminded him of his failings and how he should be more like his brother. His brother also jumped on that ridicule train and criticized him every chance he got. So, his seemingly understated act of pulling his chair into the circle was huge!

A few years later, I went to work for Youth-In-Need and met a kid who challenged my authority – which I wore as a badge of honor. – “Don’t mess with me, I’m in control here, kid!”  I’ll call him Justin. God called him my teacher.

I don’t think Justin ever knew his real identity as a “beloved child of God”. It’s likely that no one ever told him that in his short twelve years of life. I lived that story for years myself, and I sometimes still fall back into a false belief that I’m not worthy.

Anyway, here he was at Youth-In-Need, where I worked as a glorified house-mom. Troubled kids came there just before they ended up in Juvenile Detention if our therapists couldn’t help them get their lives together.

Justin was always angry and pounding his fist on anything that didn’t pound back. On his worst night, we felt we had to contact the on-call therapist. I went downstairs to the office, called her, and explained the situation. She asked if I felt threatened. If I said “yes,” they would have sent the police to take him away.

At that moment, God reached into my exhausted and hardened heart and broke through my stubborn will to control. I told her “no,” I did not feel threatened and that it would be fine.

As soon as I hung up, Justin, who was listening at the door, burst into the office, still angry, “You gonna call the police?! Go ahead, I don’t care! I’m not afraid of you!” I told him that I was not going to call the police and to just go upstairs, get his shower, and go to bed.

Out of somewhere came the words, “And, Justin, if you want a hug, I’ve got one for you.” To which he quickly replied, “Yeah, right!” and slammed the door when he left. While filling out the incident report, I thought, “Yeah, right. What was I thinking?”

When I walked upstairs, he came out of the bathroom, clearly not angry anymore. He looked at me and asked, “Can I have that hug now?” I hugged that kid so hard, wondering if he had ever been hugged. Had anyone ever made him feel worthy of love?

Here is a beautiful quote from Father Gregory Boyle. Working with gang members in L.A. he founded and directs Homeboy Industries. “You stand with the least likely to succeed until success is succeeded by something more valuable: kinship. You stand with the belligerent, the surly, and the badly behaved until bad behavior is recognized for the language it is: the vocabulary of the deeply wounded and of those whose burdens are more than they can bear.”

Do you know how many Saints could also have been defined as “bad” kids? A lot! Here are just two that come to mind for me:

St. Moses the Black

Saint Moses was an enslaved Ethiopian in Egypt in the fourth century. He murdered someone, got kicked out of his master’s house, and became the leader of a band of murderers and robbers. After an AHA moment, determined to change his ways and repent of his sins, he attempted to enter a monastery and become a monk but wasn’t well received because the monks didn’t trust his sincerity. It took a long time to convince them that he had changed. They eventually accepted him, and he also was instrumental in the conversion of some in his former band of robbers.

St. Augustine

 He was also a piece of work. Augustine described himself as a “very bad little boy.” He admitted to being full of anger, a liar, a thief, and a cheat!

 We hear about his mother’s fervent praying for his lost soul, but they also had a terrible relationship. He was mean to her, and there was a two-year period when they didn’t speak to each other.

Augustine continued to struggle with his sins and passions even after his conversion.

So, there you go. We should never assume that any kid is innately “bad”, no matter their actions. Kathy Escobar reminds us to “look the outcast in the eye and remind them of their worth” because it is likely that no one has ever done that.” 

I plan to take all of the God moments and lessons I’ve learned into the Detention Center every time I have the opportunity to love on the kids! Deep down, I want them to know that God will not punish them until they cry “uncle”. He won’t try to scare them into submission like so many of their parents or guardians likely did.

I want to say to all of them, “God wants to love you so fiercely that you will cry – with the joy of knowing you are his beloved, and there’s nothing you can do about it!” I want to help them sort through the kurfuffle they have likely dealt with all their lives. And, yes, I will use the word “kurfuffle” because they’ll love it! I’m going to laugh and cry with them. Then I’ll go home, thank God for another opportunity to love as Jesus loves, take a nap, and do it all over again and again – for as long as I can!

Who knows? Maybe I’ll be known as the kurfuffle-busting granny. They may invite me to their graduations, weddings, and baby baptisms!

And, finally – hopefully – when God’s plan for me has been fulfilled, and I stand before him, I will hear those magical words, “Well, Linda, what a ride, huh?! I will say you got on my last nerve at times, but kudos and well done my good and faithful servant! Oh yeah, and bonus, you can stop counting calories now!”

Jesus Encounters What’s-Her-Name

(Originally posted April 16, 2012)

Do you find it beyond interesting that many women in Scripture are not named? The “woman caught in adultery” (John 8:1-12), the “woman at the well” (John 4:5-30), and “the woman who bled for twelve years” (Mark 5:25-34). How do you feel about that? Some of you may feel a bit of “it’s not fair” huffiness. Or you may not have even given it a second thought. As for me, I love it! Why?

It’s as though their namelessness encompasses every woman who has lived the same circumstances. It doesn’t matter if she was Jewish or Gentile. Her age doesn’t matter. Her hip size, family size, brain size – none of it matters. To her surprise and mine, sinfulness doesn’t even matter. The only thing that matters is the love Jesus poured out on her and the relationship that followed.

Each of these women has pointed me toward Jesus, whom they met on the road, by the well, and in the court of rejection. Each has given me the courage to lay my burdens and sinfulness at his feet – only to be surprised by LOVE – immersed in grace. I want to speak to just one of these stories and how it relates to my own life.

 The woman at the well  (John 4:5-30)

This woman was ostracized in a town where everyone knew her business. She could not hide from the other women’s ridicule or the condemning stares. So she avoided the courtyard in the early morning when the other women were there, choosing to go when she could be alone. And then…

One afternoon she went to get her water while no one was there. Well, not exactly “no one”. Jesus showed up! He startled her when he gently asked her for a drink of water. She quickly scanned the road for witnesses, but no one was around.

Since she presumed he was a stranger, she was certain he was unaware of her circumstances. Imagine her surprise when he called her out for neglecting to be honest with him about her husband count, but then showed her love instead of judgment and rejection.

Jesus chose to reveal himself to this lowliest of women, to a hated and rejected sinner – just like me. He showed her the gentleness and grace of a love she had never experienced. She gave him a drink, and in turn, he introduced her to the “living water” of God’s love!

Yeah, that! He did the same for me!

By the time I reached my early twenties, when a suicide attempt had failed, I often drank myself into a stupor to numb the pain. I was divorced and had a miserable off-and-on relationship with someone as messed up as I was.

And then it happened – suddenly and without warning, just like our friend at the well – Jesus showed up in the midst of my emptiness! It’s funny; in our misery, we muddle along day in and day out. Days stretch into years. Pain and sorrow become as commonplace as your morning bowl of oatmeal. No surprises. No hope. No desire or longing to cling to. We do life anesthetized.

But just leave the slightest crack for Jesus to enter, and all of heaven breaks out into thunderous applause, dancing and singing, and all sorts of merriment! With a wink and a nod from God, Jesus joyfully erupts into our lives!

Does anyone besides me remember Mighty Mouse? I used to sing the song from that cartoon to my grandkids, and they looked at me like I had two heads! But then, one day, I heard my granddaughter singing it, “Here I come to save the day”! That’s the picture I get of Jesus when he shows up in our lives. It’s awe and wonder in the very midst of our messiness. There are indeed those still-small-voice moments. But I believe he saves those for when our hearts are more open to him.

(Tenor GIF)

When I drift too far from him, Jesus becomes a man on a mission, touching the depth of my heart—taking my breath away. Literally! Just like the woman at the well who was blown away by her Jesus encounter. She ran as fast as she could to tell everyone about it. She no longer cared one rip about what people thought of her. She was a new creation in Christ, a beloved daughter of the King, and no one would redefine her ever again! She was forgiven and loved more deeply than she ever thought possible – and so are we – every one of us!

Perhaps our hearts will soften when we find ourselves encountering the lost and broken we are often ready to judge and condemn. Let us not participate in the ridicule of others that so many so-called “Christians” piously denigrate in God’s name. I sadly confess that, at times, I forget the sting of being judged as I become the judger – Lord have mercy on me.

You cannot experience the Living God and not be changed – it’s impossible. So, get yourself over to the well, leaving just the teeniest crack in your heart, and then hang on for the ride of your life!

Let heaven rejoice,

Let the earth be glad,

Let all creation sing!

What’s-her-name

has made her claim,

as a daughter of the King!

Amen and Hallelujah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Absurdity of Hatred/The Audacity of Forgiveness

It may seem crazy to imagine Satan having any defining joy in his life. Seriously! Does he countdown days to special holidays? Review photos of favorite vacations with the family? Post pics of him and his buds at a hockey game? Laugh hysterically at anything remotely comical?!

Well…there is one thing – and only one thing – that does get him all giddy in the midst of his miserableness, and we stupid humans seem to love indulging him. It happens when we judge others and refuse to forgive. That is what Satan thrives on, and we seem so eager to comply, even those of us who profess to be Christians. I would go so far as to say “especially” Christians, get sucked into that ego-driven sense of superiority over others. I have to confess that I am just as guilty, though I’d like to believe I’m better than I used to be. I suppose it depends on who you ask.

Nearly twenty years ago, I thought the “revelation” that came to me about forgiveness when I was in Kentucky (which I wrote about in my book) was my most profound life-changing moment ever! Until it wasn’t. Even though I came away from that experience proclaiming the magical, mystical healing power of God!

Oh, sure, I played the game. The “I’m fine. Great actually. No, really! I’m totally healed of all my past shit” game! The game God reveals when, for a split second, I get out of His way. That moment when I let my guard down and leave just a crack in the door of my hardened heart and He shoves His foot in before I can slam it shut again. I hate when that happens!

Recently, I was confronted again by the call of God to forgive. The two people that caused me the most suffering and hurt – my mother, and the relative I have never named publicly, have both passed away. The funeral services were unremarkable and sparsely attended. The realization of that struck me profoundly! Two people who caused me so much hurt, I believe now, suffered more than I did. I never considered that possibility.

I was given the gift of grace when I was able to see the brokenness of their lives and truly feel empathy for them. Yes, they both made messes in my life, but I have also experienced healing and, as a result, have, for the most part, lived a rich and fulfilled life.

I have been blessed with a loving family and friends and have so much to be thankful for. Most importantly, a God who never gives up on me, never keeps count of my sinfulness, and loves me unconditionally often in spite of my foolishness and forgetfulness of His mercy and love. The profound truth of God’s love gets so lost when we prefer to live on the periphery where it is safer, and Satan tries his best to keep us there.

A life of faith has always been about transformation, our dying to self, and being renewed. It takes place when we step outside our theology of reward and punishment; when we decide we are bone-tired of suffering and causing the suffering of others. It happens when we step into the terror as well as the awesomeness of being human. In that place, God does His best work and can awaken the creation of something new within us. (2 Corinthians 5:17)

Father Richard Rohr tells us, “For many of us, suffering is a cycle. We go back and forth, holding on and letting go, healing, hurting anew, and healing again. Suffering, of course, can lead us in either of two directions: (1) it can make us very bitter and cause us to shut down, or (2) it can make us wise, compassionate, and utterly open, because our hearts have been softened.

We’re not perfect. The project of learning how to love—which is our only life project—is quite simply learning to accept this….If you really love anybody then you have learned to accept a person despite, and sometimes even because of, their faults.”

Also consider these thoughts of Desmond Tutu on what he calls “Essential Humility”, “We are able to forgive because we are able to recognize our shared humanity. We are able to recognize that we are all fragile, vulnerable, flawed human beings capable of thoughtlessness and cruelty. We also recognize that no one is born evil and that we are all more than the worst thing we have done in our lives. A human life is a great mixture of goodness, beauty, cruelty, heartbreak, indifference, love, and so much more.

Good Grief

Last year, an unwelcome course correction arrived at my doorstep with the sudden passing of my husband. My life came to a screeching halt as I faced the stark reality of being thrust into the unknown and the numbing emptiness that followed.

I unwillingly became a part of a club with no guidelines, rules, or secret handshake. I was signed up without permission and couldn’t “cancel at any time”. 

The blessings that came from a forty-seven-year marriage were overshadowed for most of this past year by regrets over things said or done, the if onlys, and lost opportunities. I thought that dark cloud would not dissipate. It totally sucked.

I needed someone to complain to. Ahhhhh, God. I could complain to God. I’m so good at that. But the last time I tried, it went something like this:

Me: dialing the number I found on the Internet…

The message in response:

                Dial 1 to leave a message of gratitude.

                Dial 2 to leave a complaint. You will be prompted to whine, grovel, and beg.

(FYI – this box is not monitored).

How in the world did I fool myself into believing that my life would just keep plugging along with only a few potholes here and bumps in the road there until I drifted unceremoniously into eternity? I was lulled into believing that the way my life was going would not change drastically or without some kind of damn warning.

Wrinkles and gray hair warn you. They don’t just show up one fine morning. Instead, they tiptoe in without much fanfare, giving you plenty of time to disguise them before your next high school reunion. The aches and pains of aging sneak around your joints like a ninja, which mercifully eases you into the acceptance that your running days are over.

For as long as I can remember, each day of my life seemed to blend into the next. Birthdays piling one on top of another were no more thought-provoking than a trash can filling up. Any thought of purpose or meaning was often left unaddressed until tomorrow, next week, or…. 

I think life’s subtle changes are meant as a wake-up call. But they’re too subtle for me. They need to scream loudly into my failure to act before it’s too late…but…oh yeah…pride helped me ignore the fact that I probably needed a hearing aid. Until now – until this.

Then, just as suddenly as I was knee-jerked into widowhood, the dark cloud lifted to reveal God’s promise to turn my mourning into dancing (Psalm 30:11).

Being thrust into the pain of loss must become the catalyst for change, for the hope that there is more to this life. Or why do we even bother? Matthew 4:16 says, “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light.” Jesus came along and spent his life showing us how to live abundantly in that light despite the darkness.

Then, one morning, God spoke into my broken heart, “This is your new reality, Linda. You’re still here. You are surrounded by My love, the love of an amazing family, and supportive, loving friends. Now get up, dust yourself off, and do what you were created to do. Because if you haven’t learned anything else this past year, you surely have realized that this one precious life you have is short. Quit wasting it! Roll up your pity party mat and GO!”

I will leave you with two of the most powerful quotes that have helped me move beyond my sorrow:

Gian Carlo Menotti wants us to let this sink in, “Hell begins on the day when God grants us a clear vision of all that we might have achieved, of all the gifts which we have wasted, of all that we might have done which we did not do.”

John Shelby Spong tells us, “It is to live not frightened by death, but rather called by the reality of death to go into our humanity so deeply and so passionately that even death is transcended.”

You are a NEW Creation in Christ

(originally posted 8/2/2017)

I have read and reread Kathleen Dowling Singh’s book, The Grace in Aging. She encourages us in our later years to do a life review. She poses this question for us to consider: “What do I need to clear up or let go of to be more peaceful?”

So, I try to sit quietly with God and that question. Now, keep in mind that just sitting quietly has its own challenges for me. All during grade school, a common theme on my report card was, “Linda does not apply herself. Linda disrupts the class. Linda talks too much”. You get the idea.

Anyway…

Sitting quietly in God’s presence is just plain frightening to me. It reminds me of my many visits to the principal’s office, waiting outside his door, anticipating my punishment.

So, yesterday, I was listening to this song. It is a song I love and have heard often, yet this time, it struck a deeper place than ever. Take a listen.

Here is the refrain that kept playing in my head most of the day:

You are more than the choices that you’ve made.

You are more than the sum of your past mistakes.

You are more than the problems you create.

You’ve been remade.

And, because I am so weird, here is the vision I got of how I so often see myself:

mr potato head

But that is NOT what God sees.

As I was rereading my notes in Singh’s book, something else she said struck me, “These foundational views of who we are, what life is like, what the world is like, what other people are like, and how we should be were formed six or seven decades ago. Because these paradigms are so foundational in our psyche, we rarely examine them. They are our unmindful “givens,” the beliefs of our ignorance. We defend our habit patterns and egos, even though they were created in circumstances that no longer exist by children who no longer exist.

That is powerful stuff! I suppose because I have been the way I am for so long, I’m inclined to believe that, like the color of my hair or the extra fat cells around my middle, it’s just who I am…I cannot change.

How many excuses have I created to hold up the lies I have so long believed: excuses that try to hold it all precariously together?

I have bought into that lie. I have allowed it to run roughshod over my life for too long.

NO! It is NOT who I am. It is who others, in all their own brokenness, have said I am over the years, and I believed it. My parents were both broken in their own ways. Neither could parent well, and their parents couldn’t parent well, and on and on.

I realize now that all those years, God was never brought into the conversation. He was never even mentioned or considered relevant. No one, myself included, ever asked his opinion, “So, what do you think, Lord? Isn’t Linda just the most pitiful mess you have ever seen? You made her; wouldn’t you agree that you screwed up the wiring somehow”?

I think it’s about time I sit silently in God’s presence and dare to ask him the difficult questions that I have not been able to deal with honestly and courageously. And I know where it must begin:

At every moment of every day, God can wipe the slate clean:

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And start over. “Okay, Linda, let’s try that again, shall we?”

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He can wipe away the tears, heal the wounds, fix all the broken parts…

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…and remake me into the person he originally created me to be. He can do that for you too, if you let Him!

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Why do I HAVE to Love People I Don’t Even Like?

If I say I love ice cream – which I do – INTENSELY! – it seems very extreme. After all, I’m sure my reaction to my first taste was, “Hum, I like this stuff.” But “liking” ice cream is not pining for it, dreaming about it, or finding every opportunity to indulge in it. That came later – but not much later.

If I just liked it, I wouldn’t ask my husband to hide it from me and then search for it when he’s not here. Which is kinda funny since the only place he can hide it is in the freezer – “Oh, my…there it is!” And, I might add, I grew to delight in the search like it was some kind of hidden treasure. (Matthew 13:46)

Keep in mind that pining, dreaming, and lusting after “things” makes God VERY unhappy. Now we’re getting into the weeds here because we throw the word “love” around so indiscriminately it has lost its true meaning and significance. If I can love ice cream more than my neighbor what does that say about me in light of 1 Corinthians 13:13? Love trumps it all!? Everything. Nothing in all of scripture is more important. People are willing to die for love of God and others (John 15:13), not things.

Loving people can be very difficult. Ice cream is more comforting and doesn’t get on your last nerve. You may be in a relationship with someone you have never liked. Like, I don’t know…that obnoxious cousin Eddie?! How do you get to the love part if you’re stuck there?

eddie vacation

I have been reflecting on that question in light of my own relationships. In particular, my family of origin – more specifically, my relationship with my brother and sister. A little background would be helpful here: My sister is eight years older than me, and my brother is two years older. So, you know what that makes me – that’s right – the “baby.”

me as baby
What’s not to love here?!

Being the baby of the family never really afforded me any special perks. Even so, my siblings treated me like I needed a constant reminder that I was NOT special. When we were left alone, they relentlessly tormented and bullied me. To be fair, I probably was obnoxious. But that didn’t give them license to beat me up and do everything in their power to get me in trouble with our parents.

three stooges

When I was younger, my mother forced my brother to play with me because I had no girlfriends to play with. He and his friends would throw things at me and try to dismember me with a Frisbee. That damn thing hurt, but I never let them see me cry! Sometimes they would just chase me around the yard until I gave up and went inside, only to return the next day for more.

My sister would initiate fun activities for her and my brother and intentionally exclude me. Once, I was so angry with my brother’s unrelenting teasing that I put my fist through the glass of a door he slammed shut on me. Of course, that hurt too, but no tears from this tough kid!

I’m not sure what my parent’s reasoning was the Christmas they gave my brother and me one sled – to share. That ended badly when his friends chased me down the hill on theirs, trying to intimidate me into leaving. I swung mine around just in time to knock out the two front teeth of one of them. YES! It was pretty satisfying, even when my brother ran home to tell my mom, and his friend ran home crying. I knew it would not go well for me, but I didn’t care.

As bad as all that was, what makes it worse is that I do not recall any happy moments to offset our feelings toward each other. Soon after our mother died, I called my sister. She had been drinking at the time and cried, repeatedly saying, “Mom loved you best”! – I was so surprised to hear her say that. My recollection was that our mother never loved anyone.

After our father died, we rarely saw each other. I can’t remember how long the gaps have been between our conversations. If I had to guess, I would say that I speak to them about three times a year. The times we do talk or see each other, we say, “I love you.” Truth be told, we would have been hard-pressed to say we even liked each other. I always believed that too much pain divided us, and lack of forgiveness left open wounds.

Then, recently, I read and reread the story of Joseph and his brothers in Genesis (37:1-50:21). Poor Joseph didn’t have just two siblings to deal with; he had eleven! And most of them hated him because he really was their father’s favorite. They hated him so much they plotted together to kill him. If not for his one brother, Judah, they would have succeeded. But instead, he convinced them to sell Joseph into slavery.

Here’s the part that caused me to think more deeply than ever about my relationship with my brother and sister. Before Joseph was raised to a position of power, he suffered as a slave in Egypt. Years passed before he saw his brothers again. When he did, he wept for love of them. What kind of love is that? It was the time of the seven-year famine, and he controlled the grain bins. His brothers used to laugh at him because he dreamed of greatness. Their fate was now in his hands. Revenge would have been so sweet right then.

How often, when I tell my sister or brother that I love them, do I consider what those words really mean in the context of my Christian faith? What I should believe about love I have failed to live because it’s too demanding, so I give it lip service – as shallow as “loving” ice cream. Because we are supposed to love everyone, even our enemies, we settle for spewing empty words that sound like love in an effort to rid ourselves of guilt. That’s cheap love.

Then, recently, (compelled, I’m sure, by You-Know-Who), my husband and I drove to the house I grew up in and knocked on the door. The lady who bought the house from us years ago still lived there and welcomed us. As I walked through the house, everything looked different. What surprised me was that my past experiences of that time in my life no longer seemed to have a claim on me. They did not dredge up the anger I had felt for so long.

Later, we went to my brothers to visit, and then to my sisters. Again, the experience was different. When we left, and I said, “I love you” to them, I meant it. But, more importantly, I felt it! And I do believe that they love me as best they can. We are all teetering on three-legged stools – wobbling around with missing parts because of the brokenness in our lives.

I can tell you that my heart has changed, but will that translate into my being a more loving sister? Will I call more often, visit more often, pray for them, and think of them lovingly? Will I actually like them? Will they like me?

After Joseph was reunited with his brothers, he gave and gave and gave to them without asking for anything in return…and…as far as we know…he never got so much as a “thank you” or “gee, we’re sorry about that whole pit incident and selling you off to slavery.” After their father died, Joseph’s brothers feared he was hiding anger that would explode into revenge. To their surprise, he was not angry or vengeful. He did tell them, “You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good….” (Genesis 50:20). God used that experience, just as he uses ours, to turn our pain and hurt into compassion and mercy for others if we allow him to.

As for me, I know that all that has happened in my life has profoundly impacted the person I am today: The good, the bad, and the ugly. If I allow God to work in and through those areas of brokenness, by his grace, love will prevail.

I once heard the expression concerning people we encounter, particularly people we don’t like, “You may be the only Christ that person meets.” It is the responsibility of all Christians; to be Christ to others; to love deeply and unconditionally. We are called to sit in the darkness with those who suffer things we may never know about. To “share your ice cream, Linda. I know you’re hiding it in the freezer!”

me and sister
Yeah, she’s smiling now. I’m bigger and faster than her! It’s a good thing I love you, Sista!

Do You Want to be Made Well – or What?

(Originally posted 5/8/2012)

John (5:-5-6) is such a challenging question, “Now a certain man was there who had an infirmity thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and knew that he already had been in that condition a long time, He said to him, ‘Do you want to be made well?’”

(Artist: Marten de Vos)

REALLY!? Come on. Why would he ask that? Jesus could end thirty-eight years of misery for this guy in a heartbeat! Is there any possibility that he would say “no”? Well, yes, there is. I know that for a fact because I have said “no” to God longer than that! I turned my back on him and suffered a life of emptiness for years. Truth be told, I still suffer the consequences whenever I close my heart to God and choose to go my own way.

I was angry and self-indulgent (I often still am). My faith was shallow and lifeless (it, maybe not so often, still is). I continually picked at the scabs of the wounds inflicted by others, refusing to forgive and, at the same time, denying my own sinfulness (yeah, you guessed it – still doing that).

As I listened to God’s word and began to meet some faithful Christians, I became aware of an unexplainable longing in my heart. That was God, though I didn’t realize it at the time. I found myself getting bolder at reaching out to trust him. Though I still considered myself unworthy of anyone’s love, especially God’s.

I was also learning to become a better parent. I believe God intended for the parenting skills he taught to be passed down from generation to generation, but some of us have to look elsewhere for guidance. As much as I resented my mother for abusing me, and as determined as I was not to be like her…I was. Her way was the only way I knew. But then God gave me lessons in “Parenting 101” through others in my life.

However, as I poured more of myself into my children, a new reality was setting in. My husband and I were headed for disaster. I begged him to look honestly at our relationship while refusing to do it myself. I prayed we could work harder to mend our hurts and strengthen our marriage. But my pleading fell on deaf ears, and my fears were becoming a reality.

One by one, our kids were leaving home, and my husband and I became lost in the deafening silence of our empty nest. So after much thought, counseling, and prayer, I made the heart-wrenching decision to leave. It was probably the most challenging decision of my life! I had no idea what the outcome would be. I will say this in hindsight; I know I did not sense God was approving my decision or telling me to leave. But I am sure he intended to use this new reality “for his good”. (Genesis 50:20)

So, off I went. I decided to go to Kentucky to volunteer for an organization that worked with the poor in Appalachia. Before I left home, I prayed a prayer that I had never prayed before, that God would change me, not every other person in my life, but ME! God was just giddy with excitement! And, oh, the lessons I was about to learn!

How can I describe to you the soul-cleansing I experienced during that time, what those eight months were like for me? Every single day seemed to bring to light another of Linda’s issues to deal with. I didn’t enjoy confronting my pride, anger, and resentfulness. As a matter of fact, it was, in essence, like being in hard labor – for eight months. Non-stop. With no anesthetic!

“Come on, breathe for me,” says the doctor. “Breathe for me? I’ll give you breathe for me! How about if you try to breathe for me while my hands are around your neck, choking you? How about that?” (Oh, sorry, I must have been having a flashback.)

Anyway, for the first time in my life, my longings, my brokenness, and my hope that maybe I was worthy of love were laid bare. God was beginning to change my heart, though I hardly knew all the implications of that at the time. It was a beautiful example of how he can work in our lives when we “allow” him to do what only he can. All of my past attempts to change failed because I tried to do things my own faulty way, refusing to yield my will to his.

Sheer desperation began leading me to accept whatever God deemed necessary to change my life. No strings attached, that would allow me to yank control back if things became too hard or too painful. I would resist the impulse to switch to an easier route, though that’s how I reacted in the past when I was afraid. And what did I receive in return? Oh, not much…just a new relationship with God, my family, my husband of forty-three years, a purpose that fulfills me, and the joyful hope that endures, even during the most challenging times. In short – an abundant life I could never have imagined on that fateful day I left home.

John 10:10 says, “The thief does not come except to steal, and to kill, and to destroy. I have come that they may have life and that they may have it more abundantly.”

The fulfillment we seek can seem elusive. It can be confused with something as insignificant as a new outfit or something as unattainable as somebody else’s life. When we’re removed from our groundings and feel overpowered by our struggles, God reminds us that we’re right where he wants us. In our brokenness is where we’ll learn to be most like him. That’s where we discover that our joy cannot be stolen unless we allow people or circumstances, rather than God, to define us. Coming to grips with that truth will open us to the fullness of life.

In his most beautiful book, The Return of the Prodigal Son, Henri Nouwen enfleshes all that I have experienced, all that I have been so afraid to admit or even look at honestly. His vulnerability and openness about his own struggles give others the courage to trust that when Jesus comes to us and asks, “Do you want to be made well”? Our “yes” can be the beginning of more than we could ever imagine or hope for. (Ephesians 3:20)

Nouwen talks about his “coming home”; about being in his Father’s embrace, “I so much want to be, but am so fearful of being…It is the place where I have to let go of all I most want to hold on to….It is the place that confronts me with the fact that truly accepting love, forgiveness, and healing is often much harder than giving it. It is the place of surrender and complete trust.” I believe Henri Nouwen would agree that it is where God’s call and our self-emptying “yes” meet in the fullness of his grace.

All these years later, I’m still being challenged daily, and I don’t always respond as I should. My sinfulness is constantly a force to be reckoned with. After all, I’m still a messy human being. But I know God longs for us to claim the gift of his extravagant love amid all our messiness. If we only look within ourselves, we can see what is already there. We can become who we already are. God offers that joy to all of us. All we have to do is claim it. When Jesus asks, “Do you want to be made well”? – and your answer is finally “yes”, strap yourself in for the ride of your life!