Trusting Requires I Lose Control

When I was a young woman, 20 to be exact, I fell in love with the Church.  I'm not saying I fell in love with Jesus, (in truth, and sadly, that didn't come until much later), but I did fall in love with the Church.  Having come from a somewhat difficult childhood that was often chaotic and stressful, I found comfort in the rules and structure of church.

The Church offered me boundaries and a feeling of control that my heart and mind craved.  It taught me how to read my bible in a structured way, how to pray in a structured way, even how to worship with rules and decorum.

Of course, as I type these words, I know that what the church taught me in my early days of Christianity was to love religion, but I know that the Holy Spirit found me there, knee deep in my religion, and rescued me, and for that, I am grateful.

In the last few years, I have come to understand how desperately I hold onto control, and the root of that is because  I felt so out of control as a child.  I find great comfort in knowing what is ahead. I'm a planner.  My lists have lists.  I have contingency plans.  I mean, why take the road less traveled? That's not a plan! And why plan for tomorrow when you can make a 5 year plan or a 10 year plan?  I'm not saying there is anything wrong with planning, to a certain extent.  It's when trusting your ability to plan overrides your trust in Jesus that there's a problem.  And that's where my problem is.

Sunday, at church, we sang a song that contained the phrase "trust without borders."

I felt like the words became the only words on the screen, an indictment to my secret character flaw, and the weight of that indictment sucked the oxygen out of the room.

From there, the pastor went on to tell a story of Mother Theresa and how when once asked to pray for clarity for someone, she refused, stating that praying for clarity was really just a way of wanting the security (and control) of a mapped out plan.  She stated (I'm paraphrasing) "Clarity doesn't require trust.   Instead, I'll pray for you to trust without boundaries."

And there it was again.  Trust without borders.  Trust without boundaries.  Trust without conditions. Trust without a damned plan.

It's not that I haven't been painfully aware of my need to control things, it's that I've been ignorant of the fact that my need for control has often replaced my trust in Jesus.

I read this excerpt from The Hobbit the other day on a friend's facebook wall and knew it was a challenge for me personally.

The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.

So where does a girl go to learn how to trust without borders?  I'll let you know when I discover it.  But for now, I'll step out on the path, pursuing it with eager feet, until it joins some larger way, where many paths and errands meet.

All that to say, it's a scary place for a control freak, asking for the ability to trust without borders, for lessons of trust must inevitably come with opportunities to have to.

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 I Am Afraid, I Will Trust in You

When my oldest son was a very little boy, he had a terrible anxiety about storms. It started when we lived out in the country and a tornado ripped through a nearby town, leaving in its path a trail of destruction.  When he saw the sheared off trees and the splintered piles of wood that used to be homes, he was overwhelmed that a storm could do that.

Try as we might, there was no convincing him the type of storm that wipes out an entire town is not the typical type of storm that pitter patters on your roof.  When lightning struck and thunder boomed, he was thereafter terrified.

One night, when he was five years old, a storm came in the middle of the night.  When I heard the first roll of thunder, I laid in my bed, wondering if it had awakened him.  I could hear a slightly muffled voice coming from his room, so I got up and silently made my way down the hall.  I could hear him whispering over and over and over,

"What time I am afraid I will trust in thee. Psalm 56:3."

"What time I am afraid I will trust in thee. Psalm 56:3."

"What time I am afraid I will trust in thee. Psalm 56:3."

Just as I reached the doorway of his room, the lightning exploded in the sky and I could see him sitting under the covers in his bed.  The thunder crashed loudly and he screamed, "What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.  Psalm 56.3!!!!!"

I remembered that story today as I was thinking about Boston.  About how to respond to the evil in this world.  And Zack's prayer came to my mind.

What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee.

All that to say, I will not fear.  But I will trust and I will pray.  Come, Lord Jesus, Come.

People Are Complicated

God created human beings to live in community; with Him, and with others.

And I don't know about you, but sometimes, that plan is a difficult one.  It has been my experience that sometimes people disappoint you.

Sometimes they don't live up to your expectations.

They aren't sensitive to your pain nor do they offer you a shoulder when you need one.

Sometimes they are in a hurry when you need their time.

And they minimize your trials or worse yet, make you feel small because your trials aren't as significant as theirs.

It has been my experience that people hurt you, use you, betray you, doubt you, lie to you, dislike you, unfriend you, and even talk about you behind your back.

They say the wrong thing, do the wrong thing, think the wrong thing.

They don't fulfill your emotional needs, or your physical needs, or your spiritual needs.

But here's the greatest lesson I've learned.  They aren't supposed to.

Most of the time, when I am disappointed by others, it is because I have expected them to be perfect; to live up to and exceed my expectations.  I have expected them to fill some place that isn't theirs to fill.  I need Jesus, but I look for fulfillment and completion and approval from people.

All that to say, God's Word says, "And my God will supply all of your needs according to his glorious riches in Christ Jesus." People are complicated.  God's Word isn't.  Love People.  Live in His Word.

Drowning

The other day we were visiting some friends whose house backs up to a lake of sorts.  It's really more like a really, really big pond, but nonetheless, a substantial body of water.  We took a walk, my friend and I, and our two sets of 4 year old twins, down a path that eventually led to a gazebo that overlooked the lake.  Very picturesque, even with the lifeless pall of winter overshadowing the scene.

The girls, all armed with a small twig, knelt down at a small pool of water just alongside the gazebo, pretending to fish, as my friend and I talked.

And then, almost as if it were happening in slow motion, Shannay leaned ever so slightly too far in and the weight of her off-balanced body caused her to topple, head first, into the lake.  My friend moved with ninja speed (I don't actually know if ninjas are fast, but in my mind it sounded right) and rescued Shannay from the water.

The other girls thought this was delightful and laughed with glee, but Shannay didn't think it was too funny.  Once she stopped screaming, she said, "I kept draining."

I feel it important to note that at no time was she actually "draining," a fact she realized as soon as she stood up in the knee deep pool of water.  But nonetheless, a very scary thing for a 4 year old.

Today, I was thinking about her feeling like she was drowning, and as her fear overtook her, she was incapable of simply standing and taking a deep breath.  In her mind, she was actually drowning.

I understand that feeling some days.  I think I'm drowning, but in reality, if I could just look past my fear and stand up, I'd realize I'm actually okay.

All that to say, fear has a lot of power in our lives; too much power.  Funny thing is, it only has the power over us that we let it have.  So to you, Fear, I say, "I'm not draining.  I'm standing.  And I'm breathing. Boo ya."


So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

All That to Say: He's Got It; He's Got Me

When my boys were younger, we took them to Disney World.  They were old enough to enjoy it and really take it all in (and also remember the trip!) but still young enough to appreciate fun things like chasing down characters for photo ops. 

There was this one ride, though, that was terrifying.  Truly terrifying.  It was called Alien Encounter,

 

and was Disney's one deviation from its otherwise "child friendly" environment.

 

It was an interactive "experience" ride about a space alien who escaped and terrorized those of us "visiting" the holding capsule where he was being held.  There was an initial shock, when we realized pretty quickly something was wrong, followed by anticipation of the fallout, followed by pure fear, and finally the perceived end.

But just when we thought the ride was over, the terror of it started over.  I was screaming "it's not real, it's not real, it's not real" to the kid on one side of me who was screaming in terror.  And I was squeezing the heck out of the leg of the other kid who wasn't making a sound.  All the while telling myself that it was almost over.  It was a grueling experience, to say the least.

That ride is how I have felt of late.  When I lost my job, there was an initial shock, the shock where I realized pretty quickly that something was really wrong.  That was quickly followed by the thoughts of all that would be drastically affected by the change.  Followed by pure fear . . . (yes, I know I should have been completely trusting in Jesus, but I wasn't.  I was afraid.  I was uncertain. I was in shock.  I was hurting.  I most assuredly was not trusting.  I was trying, but I wasn't trusting.)

And finally, I turned a corner.  I met with a friend who helped me really ask myself what I wanted to do with my life moving forward.  He helped me think through what my family needed, what I was good at, and what I believed God wanted me to do.  I started my own business, which at its core is  primarily a content management company, (we write stuff for people) but also provides marketing and design services. It is just doing incredibly well (that's actually an understatement), and I am amazed every day to see how rapidly it is growing.

I started to see God's hand in all of this.  I realized that God knew I was going to lose my job.  It wasn't a surprise to Him.  He didn't look over one day and say, "Whoa!  Totally didn't see that coming!"  I began to feel a sense of peace.  A sense of purpose returned.  The world stopped spinning madly out of control.  I could breathe.

But just like that ride at Disney, this present interactive  life "experience ride" is grueling.  From what I understand, it is grief.  I am processing what has been lost, which is much.  And while I am incredibly grateful for all that God is doing, I still some days find myself grieving.

It is on days like this that I find the greatest comfort in scripture.  Psalm 32:7 says, "You are my hiding place; You preserve me from trouble; You surround me with songs of deliverance."

All that to say, it is incredibly comforting to know that even when I feel overwhelmed or sad or troubled, God's got it, and He's got me.

Day 78: Peace is Not a Place

I was visiting my long time friend and Pastor, Larry York, yesterday and he was sharing with me about his vacation in Wyoming and Montana.  It was fun to listen to him talk about trout-filled streams and giant ranger-protected elk, and log cabins and mountain views.

I went to see him because he is my Pastor, and the last few weeks of my life have been somewhat tumultuous, (and he's a wise counselor). Over the course of our conversation, I shared with him that mornings are the hardest for me because in those first few moments of waking I feel the turmoil.  My mind is still consumed by unanswered questions, and in the still quiet moments of dawn they demand an answer.

He showed me a picture on his cell phone (which was a little amusing to me because Larry will be the first person to tell you he is not technologically savvy).

The picture was of a majestic, snow-capped mountain, set behind a gorgeous lake all on the backdrop of a beautiful purple sky.  He asked me what I felt when I looked at that picture, and I said, "Peace."

He smiled and said that most people said that.  He said, "Imagine if you could wake up to that every morning.  Would you feel at peace?"  And of course I said that I would.  When he asked, "Why?"  I said it was because I could feel the presence of God.

He said that the same God who made those mountains made the trees outside my window, and the desert, and the valley.  He said, "It's not the mountain that is peaceful, it's God."

His point to me, and a great one, was to trust God and not my circumstances.  The peace I seek is in God, not in my location, nor in the answers I want, nor in my circumstances.

All that to say, Jesus said in John 14:27 "I am leaving you with a gift--peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don't be troubled or afraid." 

Jesus (and Larry), those are good words.  Thank you for the reminder.