Finding Strength in the Strangest Place

Psalm 46: 1-5  

God is our refuge and strength, 

a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, 

though the earth should change

And though the mountains slip

into the heart of the sea;  

Though its waters roar and foam,

Though the mountains quake 

at its swelling pride.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
The holy dwelling places of the Most High.
God is in the midst of her,
she will not be moved;
God will help her when morning dawns.

I love this Psalm.  It paints in my mind's eye a very vivid picture of God's strength in the midst of chaos.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

His presence is familiar.  It's always there.  It's very present.  When I feel like the world is spinning out of control (out of my control, if I'm honest) I look for Him, and He's always there.

Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth should change, and though the mountains slip into the heart of the sea; though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains quake at its swelling pride.

Think about this picture.  A mountain slipping down into the sea. I can picture the turmoil, the swell, the white foamy water.  It is not a peaceful picture.  It feels overwhelming and frightening.

It says, "Therefore we will not fear . . . " no matter what things look like around us.  No matter what is being destroyed or falling apart or changing.  We will not fear.  I will not fear.

And then there is the next beautiful line of this Psalm.  And every time I read this line . . .

every.

single.

time.

it makes me catch my breath in awe.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God

I am not a theologian, and I don't know exactly what this means, but this is what it says to my heart. 

In the midst of destruction and chaos and uncertainty, there is a river, the depth of which cannot be imagined.   It is unfathomable.  It provides life.  It provides protection.  It has a determined course. It is a force to be reckoned with.  It is the Lord.

And I'm pretty sure THAT is why the thought of it takes my breath away.

When I read this one line, "There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God," I feel instantly at peace.  And oddly enough, I feel bolstered.  I want to raise my fist and shout, "YEAH, That's right!  A RIVER!"

The holy dwelling places of the Most High.

God is in the midst of her, she will not be moved;

God will help her when morning dawns.

All that to say, there is a river, a foaming, raging river, yet it is there I will find strength, and comfort and peace. There is a river, and I am wading out into the deep of it.

Sitting in the Middle of the Road

I was driving home last Friday  morning from an early morning walk with friends.  For a Friday, the roads were surprisingly empty, but I suppose it's because it was the Friday after the Fourth of July and more people than usual were sleeping in.

As I drove, somewhat lost in my own thoughts, I happened to notice a gorgeous black lab sitting in the median up ahead of me.  He sat there, very stoic-looking, and incredibly relaxed for a dog sitting in a median. As I approached, I realized he was sitting next to another dog who was dead.

When I got home, I couldn't shake the image of the beautiful black lab standing guard over what I can only assume was his friend, his fellow traveler, his mate.  He didn't appear to be anxious, or waiting for help.  He simply sat, perhaps still in shock, perhaps mourning, perhaps simply not knowing what to do next.

Feeling His Pain

And oddly, I felt a kinship to his story.  A very huge part of what I know to be "me" is gone.  And I find that I am simply sitting, somewhat in shock (yes, still), somewhat in mourning, and somewhat simply not knowing what to do next.

On a walk with a friend this morning, I was explaining to her that I feel lost in trying to re-establish community within the church.  And it occurred to me as we talked, that all the reasons I give for not being "able" to find a church to attend are excuses. The real reason is that I am mad "at" the church, and therefore don't really want to attend any church.

She told me that was like having a bad experience with an oil and gas company and deciding I just wasn't going to ever buy oil and gas again. . . (or something like that . . . I was in the moment. It was beautiful when she said it.)

The Middle of the Road

At its core, I have unforgiveness in my heart.  I am frozen in that unforgiveness, and I am the only one who can really do anything at all about it.  It's somewhat disheartening to know that I have within myself, the Power to set myself free.  And yet, like that beautiful black lab, I choose to sit, frozen in the middle of the road, unable or unwilling to move.

All that to say, knowing WHAT to do and DOING it are often two very different things. I can't sit here in the middle of the road much longer, for it's a very dangerous place to sit. I am assured that God's best for me is still ahead of me.  I'm just gonna need to get ON the road and out of the middle of it. 

Carol

Our Battle Is NOT With Flesh and Blood

I went to church tonight, which if you keep up with my life, is no small thing.  (Not because I'm not a church goer, but because I went to my old church, where I used to work . . . it's complicated.)

While I was there, the Pastor was talking about being "in the battle."  And I couldn't help but think that the battle is all around us.  How often do we as believers feel at odds or even persecuted by other believers and treat them as though they are on the "opposing team?'

Far too often I would venture to guess.

I know it's true of me.

While I was there, I thought about the people who had hurt me, or talked bad about me, or blah, blah, blah fill in the blank, and in the midst of those emotions, I had a very superior feeling of righteousness.

Trust me when I tell you, though, open your heart to God in the middle of HIS church, and He's not going to let you feel very superior OR righteous for long, because there is nothing righteous about those feelings.

Those feelings are born solely of unforgiveness.

And I must see the unforgiveness in myself, and forgive.  I cannot be responsible for someone else's unforgiveness.  I can (and should) attempt to be reconciled to them (if they are open to it), but holding a grudge, harboring judgement or unforgiveness . . . simply not an option.

What I should have been thinking about was the people I have hurt, or talked bad about, or treated unfairly, or judged and prayed for forgiveness.

I am not on the opposing team.  They are not on the opposing team.  For the love of Jesus, we are brothers and sisters.  We play for the same team.  There is no glory for God when we, His children, who are called by His name, are content to live at odds with one another.

As I would say to my toddlers, "That is NOT okay."

All that to say, I am grateful that God makes me painfully aware of my sin, my self-righteousness, my unforgiveness.  Grateful because it keeps me from fooling myself into believing that I am healed when I am not.  I like to think I'm good at fooling myself.  God's got my number though.  Thank God.

You Are Not Invisible

I believe God speaks to me, really to all of us, as though we are preschoolers. He repeats Himself, over and over and over because we learn best through repetition. 

Quite some time ago, I saw Zephaniah 3:17 on a large screen during a church service.  The message in that moment was comforting, but I didn't think about it much beyond that. Later that same day, I saw it printed again, and just a few days later, I saw it stuck on a bulletin board in a friend's office.

Zephaniah 3:17

"For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.”

I saw this verse over, and over, and over.  So I paid attention.  I read it slower and I deeply personalized it.  

I wrote:

"Carol, your God is living among you. You aren't invisible, nor are the circumstances of your life. He is right there. He is mighty to save you. He's strong. He can handle all of this. He will take delight in you, Carol, because He adores you and you are incredibly precious to Him. With his love, he will calm all of your fears. His love is all encompassing, and it's the safest place you can go. So go. Find peace there. And when you get there, you will hear Him rejoicing over you with songs. He's singing over you. Remember when you used to sing over your children when they were little? Remember how that calmed them? They could feel how much you loved them. They felt safe. He's singing over you now, Carol."

All that to say, my Savior, He can move the mountains.

When Friendship Seems Elusive

I was talking with a friend the other day about close personal relationships, especially close personal friendships.  Her struggle was that no matter how she tried, she just couldn't seem to connect with someone in a way that didn't end up a mess, or complicated, or frustrating on some level.


She said, "It's almost like God doesn't want me to have a close friend."

I swallowed hard at that sentence because I totally understand what she was saying, and yet, at the same time, it seemed counter intuitive to what I know about God.  I mean, He created us for community, right?

Her struggle is not unlike mine and many other women I know.  We are very emotional beings.  We need close friendships.  As Dr. Christina Yang would say on Grey's Anatomy (don't even think about judging me right now) "We all need our person."  We need that someone that we can go to with anything; someone who can look beyond what is seen, into the deepest darkest places, the places where we hide our secrets, our wounds, our desires, our dreams.  Someone that we can trust to see those things and not run away in horror. And even more importantly, someone who won't betray us when we become fully transparent with them.

For me, for her, for many, we find that we so desperately need a human being to share those things with, that we forget God's role in our life.  HE is that person for us.  His Word tells us, I will never leave you nor forsake you.

I have spent a lifetime trying to find a friend, a best friend, my person.  And I have been very blessed to have some incredible friendships in my life.  But here is the funny thing about those friendships.  Every single one of my close friends lives far away from me.  Every. Single. One.  Surely that cannot be a coincidence, right?

Here is what God has taught me about my friendships lately (just being really raw right now):

Lesson one is that I have a husband who would love to be my person, the person I share my hurts and hopes with.  And lesson two is that I have the personality type that would likely abandon having a close personal relationship with God if I had someone on earth to take His place.  That was difficult for me to grasp, but I recognize the truth of it.

My sweet friend and mentor of 15+ years told me once that she had struggled her lifetime to have a close personal friend. She believed God didn't want her to have that person here on earth because it would be a distraction for her.  I remember thinking, "You are the most godly woman I know.  How in the world could ANYTHING be a distraction for you?!"

And I'm not saying that I'm some super godly woman and that's why God doesn't want me to have a close friend. (In case you were about to make that correlation)  I'm saying, it comforts me to think back to that conversation because it tells me that God isn't being some ego maniacal Creator that doesn't want me to have friends.  It's comforting because it tells me He knows me.  He knows what I need, and He knows what would be dangerous for me.

All that to say, I'm kind of all over the place today. But what I'm trying to say, if I'm not saying it well, is this.  God loves you.  He knows you.  He knows what you need, and what you can't handle.  And He loves you enough to show you both.

What is God teaching you about your friendships?

Who Are You?

"I am a freelance writer."

Those words are rolling off of my tongue a little easier these days, but I still pause before I say them.

You see, I was something else for a lot of years, so my old answer is still the first answer on the tip of my tongue.  

And there is this annoying, awkward gap between the time it takes that answer to form itself on my tongue and the time it takes my heart to remind my brain that I am something different.

A gap that causes a very pregnant and sometimes awkward pause.

Also, saying you're a freelance "anything" sounds like what people say when they don't have a real job.  (Especially if I say it right after a very pregnant and awkward pause) :)

You know, 'cause in the back of my mind I'm saying, "I work from home in my jammies with a laptop."

But as I was praying this morning, and I was thinking about all of this, I realized that I keep saying I "am" this and I "was" that, as if I am somehow defined solely by my vocation.

I work as a freelance writer.  I used to work as a pastor.  Prior to that I worked as a teacher and prior to that a business executive.  But who I am at my core is the same.

I'm still Carol Jones.  Wife to Mike,  mother of four incredible kids and one god-given daughter-in-law, Jesus lover, daughter, friend, mentor, and child of the King.

I am neither a subtotal of my mistakes, nor am I solely defined by the work I do.  Those are pieces of me, certainly.  They add color and description to a beautiful tapestry that God is weaving.

All that to say, who are you?

Forgiveness According to Yang

I was watching Grey's Anatomy (don't even think about judging me right now).  On the show this week, there was a scene where Dr. Christina Yang went in to talk to Dr. Derek Shepherd.

She said, "You need to forgive Owen.  You're holding a grudge."
Dr. Shepherd said, "I can't."
Dr. Yang said, "You need to."
Dr. Shepherd said, "It's hard."
Dr. Yang said, "I know.  Do it anyway."

And of course, he forgave him.

But life is not a TV drama.  That's not to say that life is not sometimes LIKE a TV drama.  But in real life, things like forgiveness don't often happen in the course of an hour, wedged in between short commercial breaks.

In real life, forgiveness is often a process, a process that takes days, weeks, months, sometimes even years.

In real life, forgiveness comes with conversation, tears, prayer, and much soul searching.

And though I am wise enough to know that Grey's Anatomy is not real life, I like Dr. Yang's thoughts on forgiveness; "I know it's hard.  Do it anyway."  Just do it.

Someone said to me once (I think it might have been one of my sons), "Can you see yourself forgiving them years from now?"  And when I said yes, they said, "Well then why not just forgive them now and save yourself the headache?"

The process of forgiveness might be a process, but the act of forgiveness comes in an instant.  I think sometimes we just need to speed up the process and just get to it.

All that to say, life may not be a TV drama, but that doesn't mean we can't learn from it.

We Cannot Choose Fear

My favorite time of day is bedtime.  Bedtime at my house has always been relatively easy.  Our girls don't get out of bed, not even once. No requests for a drink.  No excuses that they need to go to the bathroom.  They just go to bed and go to sleep.

Not only that, they go to bed at 7:00 p.m. and sleep until 7:00 a.m.

It really is bliss.  (Minus of course Nikki's head banging that sounds like someone is building furniture, but even that is getting better little by little, and we are assured that someday she will outgrow it.)

They would get in their beds and lie down and go to sleep if that's what we wanted, but they always request me to rock them to sleep.  Whenever possible, which is most every night, I do, in fact, rock them to sleep.

On the nights that I don't rock them, they don't sleep well.  They toss and turn.  They have bad dreams. Nikki bangs her head particularly hard.

And on the nights that I do rock them, they crawl up into my lap, wiggle themselves into a little ball, snuggle under their blanket and melt into my arms, and fall fast asleep.

It is one of the best moments of our day.

There is something incredibly comforting about crawling up into the lap of the person in your life that provides you comfort, security, unconditional love.

It's how I feel about Jesus.  And some days, I don't know what else to do but to crawl up into his lap and melt into his arms.

Putting my kids on a school bus, thinking about their safety all day, thinking about the parents whose children went off to school one day and never came home again.  It's too much.

All that to say, I have long since learned that we cannot protect our children from all this world can do to them.  And I have long since learned not to live in fear of those things.  We simply cannot choose fear and all that it will drive us to do.

I have learned to pray and trust God.  And sometimes, when I am overwhelmed by life, I crawl up into His lap and sleep.

Day 72: A Psalm of Assurance

One morning, as I was driving to west Texas, I felt like God wanted me to pray the 23rd Psalm; but for the life of me, I couldn't get past, "The Lord is my Shepherd" (which is a little funny considering I was a Children's Pastor for a lot of years . . . it's sort of a staple in Children's Ministry!)

 

Anyway, as I was driving and lamenting the fact that I couldn't remember the 23rd Psalm, my friend, Becky, called me and prayed this Psalm over me.  It was so deeply meaningful to me in that moment that I sobbed as she read it over me.

I love the Psalms, so much so that each morning I read one. I have done this for most of my Christian life, probably because early on some other Christ-follower told me I should do so. One morning, as I was reading, I started writing what I understood that Psalm to mean. It's not a deep theological explanation; just what I felt God was saying to me on that day.

This morning, as I sat down to read my Psalm of the day, I read the 23rd Psalm and noticed these markings.

The Lord is my Shepherd
     - It's so personal.  He's my shepherd.  Not A shepherd, but MY shepherd.

I Shall not  want
     - It's so simple.  If I stopped here, it would be enough. 

He makes me lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside quiet waters.
     - There is tranquility, not confusion

He restores my soul;
     - He puts together the broken pieces of me.  I am restored.

He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.
     - He does all of this for the glory of His name

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for You are with me;
     - I'm going to walk in deep darkness, it is GOING to happen,
       and evil will threaten to overtake me, but I will NOT be afraid
       because the God of the Universe is walking with me!

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.
     - Your discipline and guidance are boundaries that keep me safe and bring me comfort

You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies
     - You are showing my enemies that You are my provision

You have anointed my head with oil; my cup overflows.
     - You lavish me with so much; protection, guidance, love

Surely goodness and lovingkindness will follow me all the days of my life,
And I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
     - My response of faith

All that to say, God's Word is so rich and alive and comforting. 

Day 24: Micromanaging

Mike, you know how much I love you.  You married me.  You gave me two beautiful sons and then allowed two beautiful daughters into our lives.  I'm so grateful to you.  I really am.

Would you help me?  I need you so much.  You are the only one who can help me.  I need a bigger house.  Of course if you give it to me, I'll praise your name.  I'll tell all my friends what a great husband you are.  If you'll just get me a bigger house, I won't ask you for anything else.  I won't.  And you just can't imagine how grateful I will be.  It's just that you know how much I need a bigger house. And you told me when I married you that you would fulfill all my dreams.  So, I'm asking.

Also, I worry that we will run out of money.  No you've never allowed us to run out of money in our entire married life.  You've never given me any reason to believe I should be worried about a place to sleep or food to eat or clothes to wear.  But I can't help but worry.  I'm worried.  Deal with it.

And while I'm thinking about it, I'm kind of curious about some decisions you've made lately about running our family.  I mean, of course I trust you, it's just that I wish you would do things my way instead of yours.  I'm clearly an intelligent woman.  So how about if we just do things my way for a while and see where that gets u?  I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.

And I guess while I'm at it, I would like to talk about the way you've been interacting with other people.  In short, I don't like it.  You the man of my dreams.  I fell in love with you because you were so loving and kind and gentle, and yet . . . lately . . .you haven't been so loving and kind and gentle in my opinion.  Yeah, I get the whole, you're the leader of our family, but really, tough love?

I think you should find our son a job when he graduates from school.  I think you should do everything in your power to help our parents and brothers and sisters be well, and wealthy, and safe.

I think you make sure the details of our adoption fall into place.  That's not a bad thing.  Surely you can manage that for us, right?

I also think you should do everything in your power to make sure we are all happy.  Happy, and healthy, and safe.  You're the man.  You're the husband.  The Father.  Just do it. 

. . .

All that to say, I feel like I have this conversation a lot . . . only with God, not my husband.  Pretty sure He's not a fan of my micromanaging either.

A Tidy Business Relationship

I'm home this week. A self-imposed vacation so that I don't burn out. I've learned the hard way that one must rest. That's why it's one of the big ten (Remember the Sabbath to keep it Holy). It means rest one day or you won't be holy. :) That's a loose translation.

Anyway (someone told me I say that too much when I write). Anyway. As part of my week, I have determined that I am going to try to get this prayer thing in my life straightened out. It occurred to me the other day, that even though I know that I love God and He loves me, my prayer life has become less of a meaningful time with God and more of a good daily business meeting. It usually starts off with me doing the "pleasantries" . . . "Good Morning God. You are so awesome. I worship only you because you are Lord. You made the heavens and the earth. You are in total control. I love you Lord."

If I were in a meeting with someone else this is what the equivalent would be, "Good Morning. You are really looking great today. I wish I could look that good. You are just excellent at your job. You've got it all under control. Way to Go! I love that about you."

But the problem is, I'm not IN a freakin' business meeting. So why oh why I have a reduced my relationship with God to that? I sit down with Him, do the pleasantries, then give Him the list of things I want Him to accomplish for me during the day.

So I started my week really wanting to have a different, more personal relationship with God. I wrote in my journal, "God, I have walked in fellowship with you for a long time, enjoying your presence when it suited me to do so. Oh but God, how much more have you desired from me? How you have longed for my company, but I have doled it out to you in small portions. I do love you, and my heart's desire is to please you. I think the best way for me to do that is just to truly love you, and then from that love, to love others. But maybe I don't know how to love. What if that is true? What is true God?"

I think I am just terribly distracted by the enemy. I believe that I have allowed him to shape the way I interact with God. He (the devil) knows I'm going to meet with God each morning, so over time, he has cleverly convinced me to have a "meeting" instead of a meaningful relationship-building time together. So, I asked God to show me how to fight off the enemy and his cleverness. Then I opened my Bible to Ephesians Chapter 6. No lie. Half of the chapter is about fighting the devil. So, I am reading it, and studying it.

Over the next few days, I'll share with you what I learn.

All that to say, I have thrown out the day timer that once was my prayer life. I almost feel like I'm going on a blind date.