The Struggle is Real

A casual glance through the Social Media minefield of distraction and curiosity can give me a false impression that I am the minority in the struggle of life right now. It's why I try to limit my time there to specific groups that I can be real with. It can provoke me to envy which is not something I need to add to the already-there-struggle.

In reality, everyone has something to struggle with, none of us are immune. For me, this season has been difficult and the struggle is real. God prepared me for this season. I think something in me had been slowly waking up. I like to think I was waking up to truth, to being fully human and whole. God used so many things to get me to that point. I immersed myself in Bible study, it was the way I coped with the insanity of a life situation I was in. One of the many studies was a precept study on the entire book of Romans, my favorite book in the New Testament. Wayne Barber explained the in's and out's of that book so well that I could not write fast enough to take notes. Thankfully, another gal in the class made a transcript of most of the sessions. I devoured them and seeing the meaning in it's full context, gave me the courage to stand on truth. So much of the verses that were emphasized to me in life were verses taken sorely out of context, used in a way they were not meant to be used. I did not know it then, when I used those same verses to pound myself with.

My two favorite NT verses are the No Condemnation verse of Romans 8:1 and how God works all things for good...The No Condemnation one was pivotal for me to finally stand up and firmly stand on that foundation. The God working all things for good keeps me there. It's been the biggest struggle of my life.

As I am in a difficult season, I need to intentionally pull back my focus to see the overall picture. God has brought me into the paths of some amazing, inspiring women for which  I am incredibly grateful. He has put relatable women in my life. I have a small support group which is so helpful. But pain, deep heart-wrenching pain is isolating. It's debilitating. I don't always handle it well. On a good day, I cling to the verses like the solid truth of Romans 8:28. I don't see it as a sugary Hallmark-card platitude, but truth that pulls me out of my hyper-sensitive, circumstance-focused lens to see the big, eternal picture. That's a good day. I acknowledge that I don't like the pain, any pain, that I am really tired of the pain, but I know God says there will be pain, so I can almost embrace it and see the big picture in it all.

On a bad day, and I've been having more of them lately, I get really angry at God. I have a temper tantrum like a two year old. I'm cynical of all church, Christians, and well, people in general. I loathe myself, I think that is the most painful. When I think so lowly and not as in humble of myself, it's hard to reconcile in my relationship to God. It adds to the anger.

Thankfully, I don't stay in that pit of despair for too long. I have kids that need me, friends to encourage and support, work to attend to, and a fellowship to be a part of. God's love draws me to repentance, to confession and restoration. Still, it's a long path to healing.  I've been actively searching, applying and interviewing for work, either to supplement, or to replace what I am currently doing. It's humbling, very humbling. I can feel the rejection to the core. Confidence has never been my strength so it's a test of faith to not give in to absolute depression.

I'm currently reading Brennan Manning's memoir, a man I greatly admire. I love that in the foreword of the book Philip Yancey (another great writer) writes how as you read this book you may be tempted to think: "Oh, what might have been....", since Manning struggled greatly with alcoholism. He urges us to reframe that thought to "Oh, what might have been ... if Brennan hadn't discovered grace."  Brennan Manning is notorious for proclaiming a gospel he believed with all his heart but did not always live. I can so relate.

He has a quote from a monk named Thomas Keating that rang true for me: "The cross Jesus asked you to carry is yourself. It's all the pain inflicted on you in your past and all the pain you've inflicted on others." I'm so glad that's not the end of the story, that it doesn't end with me carrying that cross, or any cross, alone on my back with no one to help me carry it. It's living like Brennan Manning lived,  all is grace. Like how Rich Mullins lived, a self-proclaimed Ragamuffin, who struggled to accept God's love. He is my favorite song-writer because his songs tell that story. His struggle was also real and relatable. Both Brennan and Rich wrestled it out, their tendency to sin, their struggle to stay in that Truth of God's agape love, yet their valiant, refreshingly honest perseverance and admonition to hold to the furious longing and love of God, even when they didn't feel very lovable. God's love is real and will.... be..... realized in full, in due time. Until then I can live in the "Here I'm tested and made worthy, tossed about but lifted up, in the reckless raging fury that they call the love of God" season as Rich Mullins sings in "The Love of God".   It is a struggle that is real, but I'm not alone in the struggle and neither are you.

Salvaging Seeds

I went to a night of praise last night. It had been a hard, stressful week. As I sat there and soaked in the words being sung, saying He is a good good Father, it resonated deep within me for all the things the songs said were true, the truest things I know and yet I felt detached at first. It was a battle to quiet my mind and to concentrate, to give into the truths and let go of any lies. I felt convicted, God has done so much to show me His faithfulness and yet I continually stress and doubt and give in to anxiousness  which can easily lead to me leading the way instead of a confident faith in Him, His Word and His promises. I'm not one to say I get visions, but occasionally I do feel God gives me little visuals that help me understand my struggle. As the praise continued I raised my hands in faith, offering Him the praise He is due, regardless of my feelings. I thought of the passages in Scripture that describe a mustard-seed sized faith. So much of my struggle right now is sorting the good and bad seed. In thinking on those verses, I pictured a damaged seed.  I thought of the words by Dale Fincher, founder of solution.org-a site devoted to spiritual abuse. "Twisted doctrines produce twisted seeds of spiritual abuse."

In Matthew 17:20 Jesus said "Because of the littleness of your faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, "move from here to there" and it will move and nothing will be impossible for you." I wonder how damaged seeds play out in that scenario? Probably not well. I did a quick search of "damaged seeds" and skimmed through it to find some instructions on salvaging damaged seeds. I'm no farmer but several things stood out to me - "the first thing you must do is determine how valuable the damaged seeds are."  The steps are fairly straight-forward:

Step 1:  Remove the seed pods and as much chaff as you can.
Step 2:  Lay the seeds out on the drying screen.
Step 3:  Blot the seeds with paper towels if they're really wet. (more drying)
Step 4:  Put a fan on them to further dry them out.
Step 5:  Last step. If germination is already taking place, you have two choices: 1.) Plant the seeds          
              2.)  toss them!

Could it be that I am in the salvaging the seed process and if so, what step am I on?

The boys and I worked on pulling weeds in our backyard today and earlier in the week. It's a sweat-breaking job because not only have many weeds overtaken our yard, lots of tree saplings have as well and they are hard to tear out. It felt so good when I was able to win over the stubborn, thick roots and get it pulled out. A lot of the cleaning up required disposing of the chaff, the dry dusty mess. It seems so representative of sorting truth from lies. Some lies are subtle and can even be used in a way that twists the truth and context of scripture.

As I continued to worship and dig into to the truth of His promises I was confronted with one of my hindrances, a fear of hoping. "Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but desire fulfilled is a tree of life." That has been a bittersweet word for me for a very long time, feeling deferred. It's dark and painful, but that mustard-seed size faith again is in the process of being salvaged. Am I on Step 1 or 5? I guess I will know when germination takes place. Only God, the Master-Gardner sorts the good and bad seeds that have been planted along my life path. I know I am removing as much chaff as I can, soaking in the Truth, allowing it to untwist what was twisted and distorted. Lots of drying, it doesn't sound pleasant, but necessary. So necessary it requires three steps. I can trust Him, He is Worthy of my praise and my obedience. He is leading me into all Truth. I left the evening receiving the exhortation to walk in confident trust. He wants truth in the most inward parts and I'm yielding to the process.