For Nathan and Pam and Naomi and Lori and Cindy and all my Marys and Beckies and everyone I’ve been talking to. I hope you know how each of you has helped me. I hope I’ve been able to return that help.
God – December 8, 2014
A few days ago, I posted a lengthy status on my personal Facebook page. Since then, people have commented, sent messages, and shared.
It’s no secret where I stand in my faith. I’m not a Bible thumper. I’m not perfect. In fact, I revel in my imperfectness. I’m just glad there’s a God who loves me the way I am, and who continues to help me be a better person for the world around me.
“Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”
~2 Corinthians 12:7b-9, NIV
Let’s face it. Life is hard. It’s hard when you know God. It’s hard when you don’t know God. This post isn’t about God. It’s about Christians and the disservice we do to one another in our own community by expecting only the Pretties to be seen, by submerging the imperfections, the thorns, the scars.
If we as Christians portray only a perfect example of God, how can draw people closer to Him? If we tell seekers “It’s okay that you’re broken” then why do we expect completeness of ourselves?
The Christian Community can send out false messages. Not intentionally, mind you. I believe our desire is to attract others to Christ, and we feel we can’t do that if we’re shattered or chipped.
I disagree.
We are all damaged. One way or another, we are all broken.
I’m okay with that.
“Stop forcing a catastrophe where there’s not even a storm.”
Because God is the True Healer. He can, has, and will continue to heal my brokenness whether it is caused by others or myself. Whether my brokenness is physical, spiritual, emotional, mental, financial, or any-other-al, He continues to seek me out and heal me.
The healing may not come in the way I want, or as fast as I think I need. But His timing is perfect. And I’m okay with waiting on Him.
Cuz Father knows best.
The following is the Facebook post from a few days ago. I hope it starts a dialogue of honesty and openness. I hope everyone has a friend who accepts them unconditionally. And if you want to know more about my God, I hope you ask.
Please read, comment, share. And watch the video at the end.
Life is hard. But God is always good.
I promise.
You Matter.
~#~
June 7, 2015
So an interesting thing happened. Late last night I posted a status (now removed) of how it’s okay that I’m angry with God. I received some comments and messages that others are praying for me, that others understand, and a few that cautioned me about being so public about it.
Here’s the thing, and I’m not upset, just puzzled . . . but here’s the thing.
Not one person asked WHY. Not one person asked, “How can I help?”
And it saddens me. Not because I need attention (although we all do, right?). Not because I feel alone (I mostly don’t). But because the impression or attitude seems to imply that as a Christian I’m not allowed to have bad days, that I should share only joy and keep the rest to myself.
And it makes me wonder, if the people I know are Christian (myself included), if we are sending out these vibes that it’s not okay to be NOT okay, how are we being authentic? How are we letting others know we’re there for them?
Do we as Christians stifle the outreach and community of those who need us? Is it possible by saying “This isn’t the time or place” that what they hear is “You’re not worth my time or energy”?
I have a lot going on. So do you. So does everyone. I don’t air my “dirty laundry” for everyone. In fact, there is not one single person who knows everything. There are some who know most, some who get headlines without details, and some who get only one story or prayer request instead of the whole basket.
I’m not advocating spilling your entire life on Facebook or other public forum. I’m not agreeing with those people who are “virtue suckers” and complain just to get attention.
But do the people who need us know we’re here for them? Do they really know?
Or have we made it too hard for them to reach out? Have we made them fearful that we won’t reach back?
Or worse, do we assume because we already know them that we know what the current moment is about? Do we pray for them, consider them, reach out to them based on past experiences?
Or do we say “I’m still praying . . .” for whatever issue WE think needs prayer.
When was the last time you came up to a friend and said, “Tell me what’s really going on.”? And didn’t fill your head with presumptions of who you think they are and what you think they’re going through?
So many of us are really going through our own hell on earth, yet we’re expected to live daily as if we’re not. So many of us are so skewed by our own hells that we can’t see someone else’s is different. We can’t see that we’re sometimes hurting instead of helping.
So I apologize, here, publicly, to all my family and friends. I’m sorry that I’ve not reached out to see where you’re at or how I can help you. I’m sorry that I put myself first — my own thoughts and ideas of how life should be, of how you’re doing it wrong, of how you’re not there for me. I’m sorry for not being there for you in the capacity I should be.
I’m sorry.
But hear this: You’re important to me. In many different ways.
Our lives are silk webs that criss-cross and intertwine and pull others into and out of the design and I want to strengthen your thread.
I want to be here for you.
I’ve ignored you, I’m sorry. I’ve made you feel less important, I’m sorry. I’ve made my own hells more important than yours, and that is farce. Everyone’s hell is important. Everyone needs a helping hand to get out and rise above the crud that tries to buries us.
This is me. Being as authentic as I’m allowed to be.
I let you down, and I’m sorry.
I’m here for you now. All of you.
All I’m asking is that you be here for me, too.
And the rest of your people.
Make sure they know.
For several months, I’ve not been writing. At least not to the extent I was last summer.
It wasn’t writer’s block, exactly. I had a lot to say. I just got in my own way of saying it.
The thought had come upon me that what I had to say was far less valuable than what others had to say. That my words were less worthwhile than life.
I stumbled over the thought that perhaps
I am insignificant.
I’ve been going through the motions, attending critique groups, writers club, and special events. I’ve been editing and socializing and marketing and networking and doing all the things a successful writer does . . . except writing.
There are some moments that belong to others, stories I shouldn’t share. Seasons that are too personal to blog about. And life that moves too quickly to put it on paper.
February brought adventure into my world that I didn’t know it needed. Not only did Dot get engaged, they are already married and next week, heading to Seattle for a great opportunity for both of them. I’m utterly sad to see them leave, but it’s with open arms that I can let them go, and embrace the new part of my life.
“You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” ~ A. A. Milne, “Winnie the Pooh”
I was suffocated with a momentary fear that I don’t know how to be my own person. I’ve lived my live so consistently for other people . . . what will it be like to live alone?
And I saw the doors open on a new horizon.
I’m already chatting with WinCo Foods to create new #CookingForOne recipes.
My friends want me to share my journey of being pushed into an Empty Nest so quickly.
I’ve discovered that girlfriends, writers, and God are more important now than before.
There’s no lack of writing material for this new life.
I’m going to turn the extra room into a media/workout room.
I can write late into the evenings without interruption.
I’m able to stay out later, go out more often, and do more things because there’s not a second person’s schedule or dinner plans to coordinate with.
I’m no longer a single mom. I’m just single. And I’m okay with that.
Of course, I still have five cats and writing and home improvement projects. Those haven’t changed. But I’m seeing life differently.
I’m seeing it boldly and in living color.
I’m seeing HOPE.
HOPE is the thing with feathers . . .
Later this month, I’m having an Empty Nest party to celebrate my new adventures.
And I’ve decided that celebrating every day is an adventure in itself.
I don’t care about the book. I don’t care about the movie.
I do care about the conversations going around Facebook and other social media sites.
I don’t care if your Christian or not. I don’t care if you like the book or the movie, or not.
Here’s what it boils down to for me:
The crux of the controversy is whether or not Christian people should go see this movie. I’ve read interesting arguments for both sides, and the main consensus is, it’s ultimately harmless, and what happens in a bedroom between two consenting adults is their business.
Wait. Did you read that? It’s their business. Not mine, not yours. And certainly not a theater full of 200 or more strangers.
If your belief is, what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom, then
LET IT STAY IN THE BEDROOM!
Don’t promote YOUR sex life (fantasy, real, or something in between) on MY television screen, MY social media page, or IN PUBLIC.
You can’t have it both ways. You can’t say “it’s just between a man and woman” and air it in a movie theater. You can’t say pornography is a private issue, then blast commercials promoting it on a big screen.
I will not read this book. I will not see this movie. And it’s not because of my Christian beliefs. It’s because I believe sex is between a man and a woman and them only! It’s an act of intimacy, trust, vulnerability. It’s not coffee with friends, or shopping at the mall.
Don’t think for one minute I’m a prude. I just don’t agree with getting hot and bothered by watching something in a room full of strangers.
When do we draw the line between hypocrisy and human dignity? When do we say there are just some things that don’t need to be mainstream?
Especially on Valentine’s Day weekend. What a horrid message to send! Love is so much more than someone telling you what to do, or taking away your individuality.
Do what you want to do. But please keep your private life private. And if you agree with this, please don’t go see the movie.
A few days ago someone mentioned to me how someone else had hurt her. “Can you believe she says she’s a Christian?!” She said the word like it was sewage.
I immediately asked if she thinks being a Christian means being perfect? Let me tell you, right here, right now: It. Does. Not.
Standing up for Christianity is a complicated matter. I have seen how churches alienate people. I understand the hurt when a Christian points fingers or falls short of that goal line. I’ve been there, I’ve done that. I’ve been both on the receiving and the giving end of this dynamic.
I recently had a very heart-to-heart with someone who doesn’t see God the way I do. Someone who isn’t sure that God can be that personal. Someone who is okay getting through life without a personal relationship with God. Someone who has been alienated by others claiming to be Godly.
So, do I alienate this person, just because their belief doesn’t match up with mine?
I don’t have the words to express how hurtful it is to see people judge Christians based solely on the fact that we say, “I love God.” Are there Christians out there who aren’t perfect? Always.
So here’s my soapbox. I’m just gonna type this out and hope it makes sense to everyone who reads it. Ready?
My Christianity isn’t about saying I’m better. It isn’t about me being perfect, because I’m not. Because I never will be. I fall short every.stinking.day and I’m not ashamed to admit that. I don’t wallow in self-pity, I don’t proclaim my failings from the highest hilltop just to manipulate others into telling me I’m not that bad. Nor do I tell others they’re not that good.
We are all people. We are designed to love and care for one another, and to bring each other closer to goodness. Let’s be real for a minute. Which feels better: being selfish or selfless? Of course it’s nice to have attention drawn to ourselves. I’m crazy about getting the “Thinking of you” texts or the “How are you?” phone calls. But there’s something so fulfilling about truly helping someone else out.
I’m not talking about those people my Pam-Mom refers to as “virtue suckers”. Those are the ones who are always asking for help when what they really only want is attention. The ones who complain without trying to make things better.
I’m talking about really helping people who want it. I don’t want my people to feel obligated to sit by me at church or call me at night. I want them there because they want to be there. I want my people to let me feed them, hug them, help them. I want them to see God in everything I say and do. And when I fail, because I have, I do, I will, fail . . . I want them to forgive me and not judge me.
I could never tell someone their life stinks because they don’t have God. Heck, my life stinks sometimes and I do have God! Who am I to judge what’s in a person’s heart?
There are people who God will warn me to stay away from. But those are few and far between. Christ ate with sinners, prostitutes and tax collectors. If I’m to be Christ-like, who am I to say I’m not the sinner?
And it really hurts me when people assume that just because I’m Christian, I’m supposed to be without faults. It burdens me to hear someone call out a Christian just because he or she lost their temper or had a bad day.
It bothers me when my Christian friends try to proselytize my people, without knowing my people. I don’t live in a bubble. I know others are as imperfect as I am. I’m okay with that because I believe we’re all called to love one another, not judge each other. It’s a two-way street. If I stop talking to BB because he believes in Buddha, what kind of Christian does that make me? If I say I’m not perfect but I expect you to be, what kind of friend does that make me? If I see someone in pain and say “You brought this on yourself!” instead of “How can I help?”, what kind of human does that make me? Not a good one.
I’m currently in a relationship with a guy who isn’t sure where he stands with God. And I’m okay with that. Why? Because he (My Complicated) is open to me praying for and about us. About our relationship, about him, about any- and everything I feel led to pray about. Do I wish he could come to church with me each week? Absolutely. Am I going to stop seeing him because he can’t? Not yet. Do I feel a bit oxymoronic for falling for a guy like him? Not at all. Because he’s a really great guy. And because God is calling him. He just doesn’t know it yet.
We have one commitment between us. Don’t Leave. Period. It’s that simple. If we disagree, we can take time out to calm down and think. We can hang up the phone and breathe. We can walk away. But we have to come back. We can’t leave. Not until it’s worked out.
That doesn’t mean everything is always perfect. I don’t know what kind of happy ending this will have. But I know he’ll fight for me.
And I do know that God says the same thing.
Don’t Leave. Period.
So no matter how imperfect I am, no matter how difficult my friends, family, and My Complicated can be, I’m not leaving God.
He’s never left me. He fights for me every day.
Being Christian isn’t about being perfect. It’s about not being alone. Ever.
It’s about those dark quiet nights when no one’s holding my hand. It’s about going to the grocery store by myself. It’s about celebrating with dinner for one (two if Dot is home). It’s about doing all these things alone, but not being alone.
Being Christian is about sharing my life with God, and knowing that He’s doing what He can to share His with me. He’s asking me to just not leave Him.
Does being Christian make me perfect? No. But I strive to attain the best imperfection I can for Him. Does it mean judging others? Not without pointing fingers right back at me. Does it mean abandoning those who I treasure, adore, love? Never.
Will I get in your face and tell you, you need God? Always. Why? Because I know God. And He wants to know you. Because God is supernatural and able to manage my life in ways that I can’t. Because God loves us all even when we don’t love ourselves. Because I can’t see inside you. I can only know the parts of you that you share with me. And I don’t know what conversations you’re having with God. It’s mean and cruel of me to assume that anyone doesn’t know God. I can tell you what I feel in my heart when we talk. But I can’t tell you if you’re in His arms or not. No. That’s not true. I can tell you, every single one of us is in His arms. I just can’t tell who’s fighting Him and who’s enjoying His comfort. And I will never make that judgment call.
As I’m writing this, I know deep inside that someone is reading it with that first glimmer of faith and hope. Whoever you are, please know that I am praying for you. Please know that I want to dance with you on streets of gold. And until we get there, while we are still here, I love you with an imperfect love. You may be a stranger to me. That’s okay. Reach out to someone who can be there for you. Pray. Pray with a friend, a family member, or even a stranger.
Don’t be afraid of the label of Christianity. Don’t think you can’t measure up. Don’t worry about being judged. Don’t think wherever you are in life that you can’t reach out. Don’t worry about others. Just give it your all.
And just know that God has made this promise to you.
Don’t Leave. Period.
He never promised peace and fulfillment. Rather, He warned us that just the opposite would happen. That people will hate Christians for no reason other than being Christian. It is not easy. But it’s definitely better.
Years ago God gave me a choice to keep a friend, or turn that friend over to God. As painful as it was to walk away, I opened my hands and released this person to God. God told me the process would be long and painful. And it was. To have to say no to my friend. To have to walk away and let God step up. But the result is beautiful. My friend is now married with children. Living a very successful life, and a very Godly life.
It’s so possible to be completely fulfilled with God. It really is. Your dreams are rarely His dreams, but as you draw closer to Him, he will change your heart so that your desires are for Him and His will.
I promise it’s worth it. And I promise He will never leave you or forsake you.
Whoever you are, I’m praying for you. So hang in there.
Last week on my personal Facebook profile, I changed my relationship from “single” to “it’s complicated”.
It’s Complicated.
No photos. No names. I’m not one to spill intimate details. I like to protect the privacy of the people who choose to expose themselves to a writer’s life ~ this writer’s life.The family I’m born into and gave birth to don’t have much say on the matter. But the ones who have a choice . . . those are the ones I admire. The ones who are strong enough to stick around when the word goes to print. The ones who don’t unfriend me on Facebook because they see the struggle between who I am and who I want to be, and the dichotomy between my very personal and sometimes public life.
Last week, my two worlds collided in a very unexpected manner. An old friend came to town. We went out. And then he said it. It. Those three little words that every woman loves to hear from the man she wants to want her in return.
Complicated? I’ll say so. There are many dynamics [read: hurdles] we would have to conquer to make a relationship work. Those are the private moments. But we’re talking. We’re sharing. We’re growing closer. That’s the public life.
He’s not perfect. [He had the nerve to ask “Why Toronto?” when discussing travel destinations.] He doesn’t drink coffee as much as I do. [That’s okay, I’ll have his share.] But he likes cats. He encourages my writing. And he’s taller than me. [Yes, mother, when I’m 5’8″, a man who can tower over me is a nice thing!]
I’m not perfect. I cry too much. I told him I hated him for holding my hand. I told him I was going to write every flaw and fight for dramatic content, of course. I drink his coffee and eat his chocolate. I order before he looks at the menu. But he likes me anyway.
It’s too soon to know if I’m blessed with this man or if we’ll end up hurting each other. I do know we’ve been friends for such a ridiculously long time it would be impossible to leave him completely. Right now, our complicated promise is only this:
Don’t Leave. Period.
The rest we’ll either figure out or we won’t. We’re not in a rush to make it work or find out it won’t. For This Girl, who thrives on stability and steadiness, this uncertainty is new. I’m used to being alone, solitary, not asking for help with decision making or planning someone else’s social schedule. This is familiarly new to me.
Is he a good catch? I think so. I’ve always thought so. Except for those in-between times when we’ve danced around each other’s lives with someone else. Except for those in-between years when we forgot we liked each other. After all this time, we are in the same place at the same time. And it’s complicated. Because it’s not.
It’s a little terrifying. A lot satisfying. And pretty much the reason I haven’t had a decent night’s sleep in a week.
I want to make sure I’m not using him for his attentions. Let’s face it–who doesn’t love some nice “You look good” and “Have a chocolate” stuff. He deserves more than me just wanting his attentions. He deserves me wanting him completely, as he says, “warts and all”.
And so I’m praying. I’m praying for clarity and direction and all the things a person prays about in a relationship. I’m praying to be able to keep God first not just in this, but in every relationship. I desire God to be above all else in my household. I crave a man who is so in love with the Lord that he forgets I’m in the room.
It’s so complicated. I don’t want a guy to replace God as my Head of Household.
And in the quiet of the late night, when the rest of the world is gone and asleep and I’m left alone after hanging up the phone and My Complicated is far away, I hear God saying, “I’m still here.”
That folks, is what we in the writing world call “the hook” or “the cliffhanger”. Come back tomorrow for the rest of the story.
