May 18, 2012 |
[This post is one of my Ten Bible Verses I Try to Live By]
I recently completed my list of Ten Bible Verses I Try to Live By. The first on that list is what I consider to be my “life verse”: the one I cling to and claim as God’s word spoken directly to me.
Jeremiah 29:11 (NIV)
“For I know the plans I have for you,”
declares the LORD.
“Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you.
Plans to give you hope and a future.”
Many years ago, when I was uncertain and very afraid of life, in the course of one week three people came up to me and said, “God wants you to know…” and spoke this verse to me. Sure, you say. It’s a common, popular verse when friends see you struggling and want to give you something to hold on to. That may be… except two of these three people had never met me.
One was a good friend. One was the mother of an acquaintance. And one was a stranger at church.
Needless to say, God got my attention. And I listened. And continue to do so to this day. Because He has never failed me.
Recently I found myself focusing on the verse in a different way. For a while I’ve been reciting it as a memory verse, calling out words like “hope” and “prosper” without much deep consideration. I felt God calling me to go deeper, and to tell you about it.
The verse itself is comprised of 29 words. Which makes it easier to remember that the verse is 29:11.
Word by word, I dissected the verse. I came up with a list of what it Is, and compared it with a list of what it Is Not.
Jeremiah 29:11
If we were to pay attention to how the enemy wants us to see ourselves in God’s design, he might try to tell us something else; something like this:
“Because some random stranger had a general idea that never included you,” whispers satan and the world at large, “Maybe you should think about choosing between your meager existence and what to do about it. You can’t make it any better. You’ll never be able to earn your position or any rewards. You’re not good enough. You’ve been forgotten and discarded, and there is no hope for you at all.”
But the TRUTH about what God is saying to you is this:
“Hey, YOU! Pay attention! The Almighty Abba, Your Daddy-God, is absolutely sure and confident about the detailed, specific blueprints He has designed for YOU! The Almighty Abba has publicly announced this Declaration in His Kingdom. He has directed His resources in YOUR favor, including guards to stop YOU from being attacked and wounded. He has also decreed that YOU be gifted with giddy anticipation as you wait for even better things to come and accompany YOU for ALL your upcoming days!”
I don’t know about you, but I choose to believe my Dad, not some liar. After all, Father Knows Best. Right?
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Apr 26, 2012 |
I’m not one to publicly complain or let others in on my troubles. I figure the world has enough problems, big and small, and my job is to make the world a better place… even if that means just keeping my mouth shut.
But a few times, I’ve seen this linky badge on Jenn’s blog and I’ve read what other people have to contribute. I admit, I admire having a Sanctuary of Sorts where fellow bloggers can go and expose their real self as opposed to the sometimes somewhat reserved public persona we display in our writings.
Granted, our blogs are mostly authentic. We wouldn’t be successful if they weren’t. But there’s still a part of me, a very private part of me, that I rarely let out.
But it’s been one of those weeks where I’ve avoided my Friends. We all have them: those people who can look us in the eye and we absolutely can’t ignore or lie to when they ask, “How are you doing?”
That’s not the Joey Tribbiani smooth chant, “How you doin’?”
I’m talking about the get-real, get-deep, and get-honest, “How are you doing?”
There’s only so many times I can hide, or recount my woes, without feeling sorry for myself.
And that’s not what I’m trying to do here. I’m not striving for attention. I’m also not trying to put on a brave face and act like everything’s ok. I’m not broken or shaken to my core. I’m just somewhere in between.
That’s it! That’s exactly where I am:
I’m in limbo.
And it sucks.
I know God loves me intimately. He has taken care of my family in ways I can’t even explain. He is faithful in keeping all the promises He has made to and for me.
And I feel really selfish and guilty for putting this out there… but sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.
Sometimes, I want more. Sometimes, I get jealous. And angry. And upset. And I cry. I cry a lot. I wish I wasn’t a crier, but I am. And that, too, sucks. Because it’s utterly embarrassing to be in the store and walk away from something with tears and a tight throat because I have to decide between an extra gallon of milk or a bag of popcorn kernels.
People I know have jobs, have relationships, have dates, have money to do things. Is it too much to ask for some jaw-dropping, never-thought-it-could-happen-to-me joy? What’s wrong with me, that everyone else is getting what I want?! Okay, not everyone-everyone. Just… everyone. At least the majority. Maybe three out of five.
Is it really all that wrong to want to be noticed and appreciated? To be able to do for my family what other Heads of Households get to do for theirs? Is there any time, any time, in the near or even distant future when I can actually have a savings account worth anything?
I’m so tired of planning out every drive around places we have to go; and how to get the most mileage around town. I can’t see you today, because visiting a friend just isn’t on my route. It stinks!
I’m a writer. It’s what I do. But writing doesn’t pay the bills… yet. And I can’t find a day job that will. I’m great in interviews. But the job offers themselves just aren’t around. Because I’m unemployed, people take that to mean I’m unemployable. How is the economy at large, the lack of business income, my fault?! How is the fact that my previous employer didn’t know how to manage the business and balance the books and sign new contracts my fault?!
And why can’t I write for a living?! Why does being a successful, marketable writer mean having a publisher, which you can’t get unless you have an agent, which you can’t get unless you’re marketable, which you can’t be unless you’re already being marketed, which you can’t be unless someone takes a chance, which they won’t because you haven’t proven yourself, which you can’t do because…
Why can’t I catch a break?!
I’m tired of waiting for the rest of the world to know what I’ve already learned! That life is worth taking chances. That life is good. That fundamentally, we’re all going to be okay, even if right now we don’t know what the definition of “okay” is!
And then, of course, I vent and get embarrassed that I even felt this way to begin with. Because ultimately, I am okay. I will continue to be okay.
But now and then, I wonder if God has forgotten about me because I’m not the squeaky wheel. If I throw a tantrum, will He notice and take care of me? If I cry harder, will He comfort me? Why are prayers being answered for other people and not me?
I asked Him that the other day. To which He replied, “You never really asked.” Ouch. Ouch. Ouch! But He’s right. I talk about God an awful lot, and sometimes to Him, but I’ve lost the ability to talk with Him.
I’m a failure. I don’t deserve the things I want. I mean, really. How much effort am I putting into achieving my goals? I thought I was trying, even striving. But maybe I’m wrong. Maybe I’m doing it wrong.
Maybe I’m just a failure.
But, no. That can’t be it. Because I’ve accomplished some pretty neat things lately like writing, publishing, and selling a Cookbook. I make ends meet each month. Barely, but they do meet.
Gah. I’ve even failed at being a failure.
Oh, God!
So this is me. Confessing that I am guilty of using God as a safety net. Of throwing emotional tantrums like I’m four instead of 44. I tell Him what’s wrong with my life, but I don’t give Him the chance to help me fix anything. I talk to Him, muttering, but lately haven’t gone to Him in prayer. Not real, deep, involved, here’s-what’s-happening prayer. I’ve successfully ignored Him and blamed His absence on everything but my own pushing Him away.
I never thought I would be one of those people! And He means so much more to me than that. I know I mean so much more to Him!
And now I’m really embarrassed. And ashamed.
Oh, GOD!
Never mind, God. I know you’re still in control. Still here with your arms around me. Still here, taking care of me and family in ways I’m not even aware of.
You haven’t forgotten me.
And I’m so sorry I forgot about you. Even just for a little while.
Forgive me, Lord.
Forgive me.
“For I know the plans I have for you,”
declares the Lord.
“Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you.
Plans to give you hope and a future.”
Jeremiah 29:11, NIV.
I’m gonna be okay, God. I’m gonna be okay, because you’re God, and I’m not. And even if I don’t know what Your definition of “okay” is, I still know I will be. Because You are God.
And I am not.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
If we were to pay attention to how the enemy wants us to see ourselves in God’s design, he might try to tell us something else; something like this:
