The Vomit Zone

During my short and unimpressive softball career, spent mostly batting late in the order and hiding from line drives in the outfield, I played one terrifying afternoon at first base. It was during these few hours that I was introduced to what a friend called “the vomit zone”.

For my non-American readers, let me give just a bit of explanation. In baseball/softball, the hitter hits the ball with a bat and then runs to first base (unfortunately without the bat – as that would make the sport infinitely more interesting). The defensive team tries to either catch the ball in the air, which is an out, or scoop it up off the ground and throw it to first base before the runner gets there. The first baseman’s job is to catch the ball being thrown to him. 

I’m sure you see the problem. The first baseman is actually a target. And the other players don’t always make “easy-to-catch” throws. Sometimes they throw the ball into the ground. Or over the first baseman’s head. Or with such velocity that it hard to see, let alone catch. Or, they may throw the ball into the first baseman’s vomit zone.

The vomit zone is the area right around the belly button and it is so named because catching a ball here is very difficult. Does the receiver turn his glove upright, fingers to the air or upside down, fingers pointing to the ground. If you are having trouble imagining this, take a moment and put your left hand near your belly button. Now try to imagine a ball flying there so fast that missing it is not an option. Fingers up or fingers down? It is a tough decision that must be made quickly. The pressure of the decision and the fear of making it wrongly, can be a bit nauseating, hence the name. And I suspect a projectile landing full force on your belly button induces vomiting.

With every throw, the first baseman must decide – how will I catch what has just been thrown my way? 

Not many of us play baseball/softball, but all of us must learn how to receive whatever life throws at us. We must learn to receive whatever God decides to throw or allows to be thrown. Things that hurt. Challenges that strain resources. Disappointments. Assignments we didn’t ask for but can’t ignore. Difficult relationships. Usually, not catching those things is not an option. If we can’t figure out a way to receive it, we could be painfully hit.

We all have a spiritual vomit zone too. It is the posture of our heart. Will I receive something from His hand expectantly? Looking for where I might find more of Him in it? For where He might want to grow and develop my character? For where He might want to say something to me? Or do I choose to receive things from his Hand with bitterness. With anger. With arrogance, thinking I know better than Him.

If you watch first basemen that know what they are doing however, they do something clever to reduce the danger of the vomit zone. They lean into the direction of the ball. They stretch out to receive it. Not only does it put their hand in a better position to more naturally make a catch, it protects their more precious underbelly.

So I’m thinking about ways to lean into what God is sending my way. To catch it more gracefully rather than missing it, getting hit by it or being knocked to my back side. It is leading to some interesting thoughts.

How Do You Not Get Emotional? (Being Human pt. 8)

Recently, I was on a tour of the CNN headquarters – a perk of hosting out-of-town guests. I got to spend time in the control room before a segment went live and briefly talk with a director of the news and some of her colleagues. She wasn’t a maker of the news, just an observer, gatekeeper and communicator of it. She has worked at CNN her entire career, doing almost every job behind the camera at one time or another. What a fascinating person! Question-asker that I am, I started with, “What was the biggest breaking story you were ever present for and got to cover?’ That was an interesting discussion, especially as one of her co-workers was present the morning of 9/11.

In light of that, the next question presented itself quite naturally. I asked, “How do you not get emotional doing what you do?”

Immediately, she and at least three different people in the control room answered emphatically, “Oh, we do!” Then, the director went on to point out something in the room I had missed. Boxes of tissue. Everywhere. She said they don’t get to look away from all the horrible things of this world. The child murders, natural disasters, injustice, tragedies… Yet they still have a job to do. Observing, gatekeeping and communicating stories. Often with tears rolling down their faces.

I’m getting a little emotional myself while writing this because…over the years I’ve ended up talking with a lot of young women. And some not-so-young. About stuff. Life. Their stories. Their pain. I wish I knew exactly how it happens. It isn’t that I want to stop this. Obviously it is a part of who I am – meeting people right where they are and walking with them a bit till they get where they are going. Wherever that is. But sometimes my life sort of feels like I’m in a great big control room, and all these screens are displaying what is going on in the world. And like the employees of CNN, I can’t look away.  I have to stay engaged, involved in the stories being played out not just before me, but in the lives of people I know and care about. And, like the employees of CNN, I am coming to the conclusion that not getting emotional isn’t an option. I just have to keep tissue nearby and handy.

Because I’m not unaffected by what I see.

I sometimes meet Vulcans out there – those people who try to disengage from their feelings. They have all sorts of reasons why their life-strategy is best: controlling their emotions lest they control them, leaning into rational analysis, embracing logic and rejecting the inner world of the heart, both in themselves and others. There most certainly is a place for some of this – and I’m speaking as a recovering Vulcan myself.

Yet…

Our humanity, where God chooses to meet us, is intricately connected to our emotions. Yes, it is messy. Yes, it is at times uncontrollable. Yes, it can make us vulnerable to pain, to the whims of others…to our human-ness. But to deny our inner world is to deny a basic part of our humanity… which denies Jesus a powerful place to meet us. 

Like the CNN employees, I am coming to realize that not getting emotional is not an option. Not a healthy one anyway.

Grieving the Me I Could Have Been (Being Human pt. 5)

Our lives are all a series of actions and reactions. A complicated network and matrix of relationships, events and choices. Someone does this to us, we do that in response. Something happens to us, we alter direction and make choices because of it. This crashes into our lives and sends us spinning in a new and maybe unwelcome trajectory. That unexpected debacle causes spin and torque, knocking the wind out of us and robbing us of equilibrium. It can look sort of like an 8 ball in motion on a billiard table with dozens of other balls all in motion all at the same time. We may start out heading in a straight line but it isn’t long before a series of collisions makes the original path all but indiscernible.

We get hit. Life is complicated. Destinations and destinies change. It hurts.

This experience, of getting bumped off path, of collisions, changed directions and missed possibilities is a deeply human one. Where we all live here on earth, in real life, stuff happens. Some good and some bad. And when it all gets thrown into our lives, we can get knocked around a good bit.

In light of this, I’ve found myself recently asking a very dangerous question, one which is only 2 words and one which God never answers. “What if…”

What if my youthful relationship constellation had been different, more healthy and more in tune with the things of God? What if those tragic events that so marked me had never happened? What if I had responded to them differently? What if I had made a few key decisions with more wisdom and godly input from others? What if there had been someone in my life who knew how to stand at the crossroads and point the way to Jesus much earlier than I actually met Him, and taught me how to walk in His ways before certain destructive behaviors set in my heart like cement?

So many “What ifs…” It boggles the mind, really.

I think one of the foundational issues that the “What if…” question really addresses is grief. Grief of what could have been, might have been, maybe even should have been. Was there a future out there for me that I could have had if I had made a different choice? If those around me had made different choices? Was there a ‘me’ out there I never got to become because of the messy collisions of life that preempted my future and robbed me of what might have been mine?

Being human means loss. And loss leads to grieving. Sometimes in the most unexpected places over unexpected things.

When we bring our grief to Jesus and talk it over with Him, He doesn’t answer the “What if…?” question. That would be too cruel on His part to not just torture us with grief, but regret also. Even though we don’t get an answer however, we always get more of Him. When we empty our hearts by learning to take all our pain to Him, holding nothing back and venting till we are spent and  exhausted, giving it all over to Him, the craziest thing happens. He takes the expression of the deepest places of our hearts as an invitation. And He shows up.  He fills it the empty places and speaks into the void.

I may not get the ‘me’ I could have been. But when I walk closely with Jesus, I get the ‘me’ I can become.

Marriage Predictors pt. 7 – Surviving the “Oh My God, Who Are You And What Did You Do With My Spouse?” Moment

I think there comes a moment in everyone’s marriage – usually early on for those with good communication skills, and later on for those who are better at hiding what is actually going on in their heart (my category, by the way) – where you look at your spouse and wonder, “Oh my God, who are you and what did you do with the person I married?”

I’m not talking about the “you squeeze the toothpaste from the middle” argument, or the classic, “Toilet paper should spin from the top, not the bottom of the roll” disagreement that every newlywed has. I’m talking bigger things today. Like:

When they really lose their temper in front of you for the first time and it makes you afraid. When you realize that thing that didn’t really bother you while you were dating really does bother you now that you live with it, and you awaken to the fact that it isn’t going to change. When you catch them using porn on the internet. When you realize what you thought was a bad habit is actually an addiction. When you get that credit card bill for that thing you can’t afford, didn’t want and now are on the hook for. When something from their past pops up that they didn’t disclose to you before the marriage, or you didn’t fully grasp its ability to affect you, and now it is sitting in your lap. When the emotional baggage from their past won’t be suppressed anymore and you begin to realize just how broken by sin they are, and now they are evolving into someone right before your eyes that you aren’t even sure you recognize. When they make a really stupid or selfish mistake and do something, say something that hurts you so badly, different words enter your vocabulary – like betrayal, abandonment and regret. When you start entertaining those thoughts on “What if…”, when you swore you never would.

(This is a discussion where it is really important to realize that if you are pointing a finger at your spouse, you are also pointing three fingers back at yourself. If you are thinking any of these things, I’m pretty sure your partner is having the similar thoughts about you.)

It is usually at that moment, when the new reality begins to set in, that most people begin thinking “Is this marriage thing really permanent?”

When you marry, in front of God and your family and friends, you make unbreakable vows to each other for this very reason. Because if people could get out of marriage, at some time or another, almost everyone would. Sure, people divorce and move on all the time. But make no mistake, when you break your marriage vows, you also break the people who made them.

The marriage predictor I am talking about today (the character qualities, behavior patterns and practices that bend a relational trajectory towards a loving, stable relationship – or not) is your decision to stand and work and fight for your marriage and not run when this first happens. And I’m pretty sure this moment happens to everyone. Because most of us have bought into the lie that marriage is about making us happy – and when it doesn’t, we begin thinking about how to bail. At some point in the relationship, most likely you will be faced with the temptation to leave – either physically or emotionally. And when you decide to honor your vows, to stay, even when everything in you is screaming, “Get me out of here!”, you set your relationship on a trajectory that leads to a very promising place. 

Learning to do this, early in the marriage, to stay in, all in, both emotionally and physically, is a learned skill. And learning to do it from the get-go…I can’t really think of a stronger predictor of one’s ability to do it later, when the stakes just might get exponentially higher. Committing to the energy it requires to work through those “Oh my God…” moments early on in your marriage teaches you that you can survive them, and that you can work together through whatever will come up later. And just a bit of truth for all the young couples out there…there is always something else that will come up later. And later, it is almost always something much more complicated (which is code for ‘painful’).

So young couples – talk to each other about this. Make it part of your relational vocabulary. And decide together that you both will survive these early challenges and come out on the other side, more invested in and more committed to the success of your marriage than before.

Here is a link to an interview from the world’s oldest living couple, married over 85 years!

(This post isn’t meant as a critique of anyone’s marriage, broken or damaged – it is meant as a springboard for discussion and prayer. I’ve heard from some of my readers that this series has been painful to read. Please know, I totally get how tough marriage is and can be. I am writing from a place of great compassion for you.)

Reflections On Truths Learned This Past Year

The year 2011 broke my life in two, with a distinct before and after. Frankly, I’m just glad to still be here, standing and breathing. There have been days I wasn’t so sure that would happen. And some days the haze of uncertainty and fear lingers. So I wanted to take a moment and reflect, to summarize something of what I’ve learned through it all.

What's that? God calling? I'll take it in here...and I'll probably be a while...

Jesus has been incredibly faithful to lead me to all sorts of places with Him I never would have chosen to go on my own. And ‘grateful’ isn’t even the right word to use to describe how I feel about it. But since it is all I have at this point, it is what I’ll use.

So, in an effort to capture something of my gratitude, here are some of the realizations and truths that have become a part of my soul in this last year:

1. My heart is a bigger mess than I ever thought. As Jesus and I have been walking around its corridors and exploring its depths, what I am finding has been both horrifying and a relief. The depth of my messiness, of my sin and its consequences has been overwhelming at times. But as the chips have fallen, I realize I really do love Him. There have been days when I’ve completely lost my balance, yet I’ve consistently fallen in His direction – and the ground where He stands is solid. So I am a mess. But at least I know now I am more fully His mess. And another thing I’m learning first hand is that redeeming messes is one of His specialties.

2. As big a mess as my heart is, that is what He really wants. That I’ve known this truth, even taught it over the years and still missed it in my own life…I am ashamed. Jesus doesn’t want my works. He doesn’t want my words. (Although of course, at some point and level He expects my works and words.) He first and foremost wants my heart. He wants my love and affection. He wants my life pointed in His direction because that is the direction I want to go, not because I’m afraid of going in the other direction. He wants to renew, restore and rebuild me from the inside out, not teach me to conform to a cultural standard that looks pretty on the outside but is rotten on the inside. Learning to move my spirituality more fully to the realm of the heart has been a huge shift for me this year. A frustrating one because no one sees it but Him and me…and a painful one because it is so much work…but a rewarding one because of how it makes the ground beneath my feet more solid.

3. If all I ever am is His, it is enough. Without realizing it and while simultaneously knowing in my head the opposite is true, I’ve established a pattern of relating to Him through what I do. As innocently as it started and as good as my motives have been at times, I’ve been trying to prove myself to Him, to earn His favor and to subtly keep Him distant by setting up our relationship within a business context. I do this, therefore He does that.  It is taking a season of not working for Him to re-set this truth deep in my heart – that He loves me just for me. Not for what I do or accomplish. My greatest goal and deepest desire is to be His – more fully, more intimately, more deeply. And if that is all I ever accomplish in my life, it is not only ok, it is wonderful.

4. He sets the agenda, I don’t. Yes, I knew this before this year, but I think I can look back and see that functionally, I came to Him wanting to pick and choose how I serve and relate to Him. And He has absolutely refused to play along. He has reasserted His authority in my life to set the agenda of what we talk about, how we relate, the speed with which we move and everything else about my relationship with Him. He has called me to repentance and to a season of learning just to walk alongside Him wherever He goes. To listen. To ask questions. To follow. It has been so refreshing in its restfulness. I make a terrible god. Yet He does it so effortlessly.

Funny how, at one of the high points of my year, a trip to Europe to teach, minister, network and even hike for an afternoon in the Alps, there was a storm brewing in the background.

5. For someone whose life’s work revolves around people, I have terrible people skills. In fact, recently I floated the idea in my heart that I am done with friendship. (Material for a later post) I know that really isn’t an option…and I’m sure I don’t really mean it…and I know how I feel in a few months will be different from how I feel about it now…and I really do have the friends I’ll have for the rest of my life and they are wonderful…and  I know part of what this season is about is me learning to truly make Jesus my best friend (and not the cheesy Sunday School version of this)…but that I’ve so struggled over the years with what should be the most basic of human functions has worried me a bit. And I find it pathetic that I’m as old as I am and still trying to figure how to relate to others well.

6. My internal monologue needs a lot of work. On the positive side, I am learning to embrace my honest, brutally honest, excruciatingly honest internal monologue – and out of it two great things are emerging. First, I am learning quite a bit about myself; where I am wounded, where I am gifted and something of where I will go in the future. And second Jesus and I have had so many amazing faith-confirming and encouraging conversations; where He has actually spoken into my greatest doubts, struggles and pain, where I’ve gotten satisfying answers to those things that have kept me from truly engaging Him with depth. I guess you could say my internal monologue, unhealthy as it is, has actually been a very healthy thing for my spirit this year. It has driven and led me to more of Jesus and greater intimacy with Him. But the thoughts that still just randomly pop into my head…lets just say some days I am concerned about where this stuff comes from. And I hate that so often it is the soundtrack that plays behind much of my life.

7. Jesus is…well, He is more than I ever thought. I thought quite a bit of Him before this year began and He and I certainly weren’t strangers then. Yet…I am continually surprised at the paths He chooses to lead me down. Not linear. Not expected. Glacial and circuitous. Jesus has caused me greater pain than I thought I could endure, yet brought healing I never knew I needed. He has forced me to learn to engage Him on His terms, to repent of deeply ingrained things, to redefine so much of my life…and still…it has been the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. He has been the greatest thing that has ever happened to me. And I hope and pray I never get over this…this year that almost killed me. Jesus still has me moving in His direction…and that means there just might be hope for me in 2012 yet.

Just Saying No

Psalm 101:3 I will set before my eyes no vile thing.

Job 31:1 I made a covenant with my eyes…

I remember watching a particularly sad episode of CSI years ago, dealing with a child’s death. Some of the visuals and dialogue turned my stomach and caused me to lose sleep. After it was over, I turned off the tv and said, “I’m done.” I haven’t watched an episode since.

Parents can testify just how difficult it is to imagine or visualize terrible things happening to children. Jeff and I can hardly stand to watch the evening news or surf the internet for fear of running across articles and stories that make us think, “Oh Lord, not our kids.” Our hearts are tender now in a way that we never could have imagined in our youth.

My point isn’t that CSI or tv is bad. That particular experience pressed on my heart how our culture has taken the gruesome, the violent, that which is definitely abnormal and harmful, and made it entertainment. I wonder just how that happened and who thought it would be fun to watch suffering up close and personal.

It isn’t that I don’t enjoy a murder mystery or a crime drama. It isn’t that I’m running from culture and sticking my head in the sand. Believe me, in my line of work, I see plenty of suffering up close and personal. It is just that seeing certain things and indulging particular thoughts makes my heart hurts sometimes. Certain visuals and stories do more than just enter my brain. They become part of the permanent collection of memories. Once in there, I can never get them out. They haunt me and rob me of sleep and peace. They disturb deeply. Things like this cannot be entertainment for me.

So where violence is concerned, I’ve chosen to self-censor. I just say no.
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What In The World Is My Problem pt. 6 – I’m A Hater

(I’m not blogging from my happy place right now. Read with a grain of salt, and check back with me in a few days. I hope to have a serious attitude adjustment on the way.)

I hate living in the suburbs. No, really. I just got back from Costco. I hate it. I hate that my culture centers around consumption. And lots of consumption. I hate that my wonderfully comfortable big house, nestled away in a great neighborhood forces me to drive everywhere. I hate that all the nice things I own require more of my time and energy to maintain them. I haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaate carpool line for the kids, which forces me to spend almost 2 hours a day in the car, not including any other errands I might have. I hate that the people of my nation, as a general rule, are so overweight, out of shape and spoiled that they are incapable of effectively channeling to others the blessings God has so richly poured out on them. I hate that the most meaningful conversations I was able to have during the week, not including my family and old friends, involve “Hey, how are ya and did your team win this past Saturday?”

I hate that I didn’t choose to live here, that I had a radically different plan for my life in mind and yet here I am. I hate that I wrestled with God about His will for my life and lost resoundingly.

As a result, I hate that my heart feels flat, like a full balloon that just got stomped on by someone in Doc Martins. I hate that I’m not overflowing with gratitude at the life God has given me, when I can clearly see that it is a good one with much potential and blessings in it. I hate that I spend so much time looking over the fence at how other people get to live their lives and wondering why that isn’t me. I hate that I feel like God is punishing me when I know that isn’t the case – at how lies I know aren’t true still grab hold of my weakened heart and roar through until I struggle to hear God speaking. I hate how I’ve responded to not getting my way and what it has revealed about my character, at how I can painfully see just how far I have to go in my journey towards spiritual maturity. I hate how I know I’ve got the choice to choose joy, to choose to make the most of the situation here and some days I can’t control the depth of hate I feel at being here. I hate that I find myself, in my really honest moments, using this word ‘hate’ so often. I would much rather be a chipper, bubbly, happy person and I hate that it seems so far out of reach some days.

I hate how this very honest (perhaps too honest) blog entry makes me look. Sort of like when you try on a dress and ask, “Does this dress make me look fat?” And the honest answer is, “No, the dress doesn’t make you look fat. That would be your backside doing that.” If I were to ask,”Does this blog entry make me look like a spiritual train wreck?”, the honest answer would be, “No, Deanna,  that would be your heart.”

I know how I feel is the incorrect filter with which to view my situation. When I go to the Bible and review God’s truth: I know He loves me, has a good plan for me, that He knows what He is doing and that He will work all things out not just for my good, but for His glory, which, of course is the ultimate good. I know I’ve been blessed beyond measure materially and I’m not ungrateful for what I have and have been given. I also know I am right where I am supposed to be right now, that I am right in the middle of His will for my life. I know that the battle raging in my heart and spirit is actually bringing about much healing and greater intimacy with my God as He and I talk about some truly important things in my life. I know I am moving in God’s direction and not away from Him through all of this. And I am not always so unhappy – most of my days here are previews of great joy just around the corner.

I just hate that there is so much hate floating around in my heart right now. I hate how I have to struggle with such ferocity some days to hold the truth front and center in my life. I hate that sanctification is just so dang hard. I wish that letting God’s peace and contentment settle deep down in my soul were an easier proposition, and not such a battle that fuels such emotion in my heart. Yeah, I just wish I weren’t such a hater.

A Verbal Slap In The Face

I wasn’t planning on posting this until later this month, but a particular phone call from a friend on this exact topic has motivated me to share this now. I wrote this for another friend’s blog a while back, but wanted to share it here too.

Eccl 4: 9-10 Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: If one falls down, his friend can help him up. But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up!

Pr. 27:5 Better is open rebuke than hidden love.

I was doubled over in grief and trying desperately not to vomit on the sidewalk. The news of my second miscarriage in a few months was more than heart breaking – it was soul shattering. How could God let this happen? What on earth had I signed up for in becoming a Christ-follower? And if this was my present, what was in store for my future?

Have you ever been in the place where events so contradicted what you know in your heart to be true? Where what is happening is so painful, so … that your whole world has just been flipped upside down and you can’t even find which way is up?

Barely intelligible through gut-wrenching sobs, I cried out, “I guess this happened because there is some lesson out there God wants me to learn. And I must not be getting it.”

Have you ever uttered words in that moment, in that moment where the truth escapes your lips before you can think to cover them with acceptable “church-speak”? And when you heard what was actually in your heart, you cringed at the darkness there?

I could run through all sorts of theological reasons why that statement just might be true. God is sovereign and nothing is ever out of His control. Had He wanted to, He could have stepped in at any moment and stopped the loss. God does indeed use all our circumstances for good and continually teaches us  through whatever happens. I knew all the church answers, but…

In that moment of honesty, when all my filters of self-restraint were stripped away, when unimaginable pain squeezed me beyond what I thought I could endure, out popped a deep seated lie that had been hidden in my heart for years. I thought God was a terrifying cop, waiting to pounce on the slightest infraction, a heartless teacher, rapping my knuckles to drive a lesson home, a taskmaster more concerned with what I did for Him than how I received love from Him.

“Deanna, that is a lie! That is a lie from hell!” As my good friend spoke, she grabbed my face in her hands and pulled me so close, she was looking right into my tear-filled eyes. And I instantly knew her words were true. She was verbally slapping me in the face, showing me greater love than any hug could have in that moment and opening my eyes to something I was incapable of seeing myself. Evidently I had internalized some pretty severe lies about God’s identity and His intentions towards me. Wow! What bravery for her to go there with me and say what I really, really needed to hear in that moment!

Have you ever had a friend speak such truth to you that you actually blinked as you heard their words, that it took you more than a moment to answer because of the shock? That maybe you were actually embarrassed at first listen, but then as you wrapped your heart around them, wanted the truth more than your dignity?

Where these lies came from, why they were so powerfully lodged in my heart, how God used this event in my life and the resolution of the theological questions it raised is too much of a story for this post. But one thing I learned is this: having a truth-speaking friend who is courageous enough to wade into very deep relational waters with me is invaluable, life-giving and something EVERY believer needs. 

Are you willing to go there with someone else? Are you willing to be the type of friend who not only hugs but slaps when it is more loving? And when you get slapped in love, do you hear the message behind it? Do you have this type of friend? If not, what do you have to do to cultivate that type of relationship?

It Wasn’t What I Wanted To Be Doing Today

A 'Before' shot of our new kitchen.

It wasn’t what I wanted to be doing today. Given my choice, I would have been learning Norwegian or thawing out from a long Scandinavian winter and eating kjottkaker. We were supposed to have been several months in to building a new life in Oslo, far, far from the Georgia pines and blooming azaleas. Instead, today I was slapping new paint on an old house, looking at the next 10 years in a place I never thought I’d live. It wasn’t what I wanted to be doing today.

As I was talking with my heavenly Father about this unexpected turn of events, I tried to think of all I have to be thankful for, of the bright future ahead of me and my family, of how He’s continued to take care of us through all the disappointing turmoil. I tried hard to spin it positively, with some success. The life we are looking at here is a good one and considering the state of the world around me, I can’t complain. But still, trim paint and tears don’t mix very well. Some days, my life feels like the fried chicken platter, which is tasty, but I was expecting the salmon.

So I’m sorting through a kaleidoscope of emotions that swirl together, yet are hard to identify individually. I’m ready for the spinning to stop. And trim paint is good for that. In fact, for me, painting is a deeply symbolic act, more than just decoration. It means I’m planning on staying a while, on making a home where I am. As my bookshelves went from dull cream to bright white, it was my way of saying to God, “If you want my body here, I’m going to plant my heart here as well. I’ll make this house a home that You can use anyway you want. And I want You to know that even if my heart is still catching up, at least my body is moving in the right direction. It’s painting. “

Heartbreaking Dysfunction

John 16:33 In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”
Revelation 21:4 He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away
Revelation 22:20 He who testifies to these things says, “Yes, I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.
Jeff was away on a business trip this evening so I got a night an unexpected night all to myself with the tv. I’m not sure why but I got sucked in to A&E’s shows called Hoarders and Intervention. It was like watching a train wreck – you can’t pull your eyes away even though you know a horrible crash is coming. And I felt sick and disturbed afterwards. Hoarders is about truly mentally ill people who’s lives are filled with clutter, waste, trash, etc. They can’t throw away anything and their houses are disaster areas with no place to sit or sleep. Their homes are so filthy that eviction or children being taken in to protective custody are normal outcomes. Intervention is about drug users, the toll they take on their families and the resulting intervention they take in an effort to reclaim their loved one’s health and lives.

Watching these lives implode, I realized that there is no other word for what I saw but SIN. There is a “right” out there, and where these people ended up is so wrong. You can say that most things in life are relative until you see the devastating effects of sin in lives and hearts up close. I was only watching on tv. Those families were living right in the middle of it. The condition of their lives wasn’t relative, it was disastrous. Sin brought them there. Sin was trying to keep them there.

Hear me clearly, I’m not judging. I’ve lived long enough to know anyone is capable of anything, ANYTHING, given the right circumstances and pressures. Without Jesus changing me from the inside out and conquering the sin nature that would master me, I could be a hoarder, an addict, an enabler or a destroyer of all that I have and those that I love.

But hear me clearly, my heart is breaking for the world tonight and the mess we’ve made of things.

After an evening spent watching the collateral damage of dysfunction and addiction I’m reminded of Jesus’ words that He has overcome the world. How those words bring hope to those who are ruled over so powerfully by their sin. I’m reminded of the promise that one day there will be no more crying and that He will restore all things to how they are supposed to be. And I understand a bit more fully why the Bible ends with a prayer for Jesus to come, and quickly.

Counting Broken Hearts

Ps. 34:18 The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.

Ps. 147:3 He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

I was thinking today about how many times my heart has been broken. There were the general childhood things that most people experience, that left me with a limp I couldn’t recognize myself till I began to see how other people in the world were walking. Then there was the boy who I thought  at one point I might marry who said such hurtful things to me well after he needed to, just to let me know he was THE MAN who didn’t need this little girl. Then there were the two miscarriages that left me so wounded  and feeling kicked in the gut, grieving over the loss of life inside of me and the life I thought I was going to get, that I didn’t think I’d be able to breath or walk without doubling over or ever be whole again. Then there were the series of profound disappointments that came later, when I realized that life can be really, really painful, from the most unexpected corners – and evidently I’m not going to get the life I wanted, dreamed of or had been actively planning for myself for years, that left me wondering just who this God was that I’d spent the better part of my adult life following. And everyone, everyone has to deal with certain relationships that they can’t get away from, that chronically drain, wound, ruin and it doesn’t matter how many times you tell yourself you’ll keep your expectations really low, they still manage to get under your skin and slam you right where it hurts the most because they’ve hurt you there so many times before.

So, how many times has my heart been really, truly broken, where strangers in the street could’ve heart the crack and shattering, where it was beyond just the normal everyday life management in a sin-wrecked world? I counted today. Even though I share parts of these stories occasionally during teaching times, when I feel Jesus leading me to, when He tells me He gave me these stories to point to how amazing and close He is in the midst of my pain, how He uses them for good I never would have seen coming but am now so thankful for and how He can do the same for others, my number is going to stay private for a little while.

Welcome To The Blog!

Hello and welcome, both to longtime readers and newcomers!!! I’m kicking off a new blog with a new focus. It is a long story of how I got here, but recently there has just been a lot of stuff stirring in my heart. Deep thoughts. Rich, vibrant themes that are bigger than just personal updates. Things that if I don’t get off my chest, I feel like I’ll explode. Or at least I’ll be disobedient to the One who put them in there. I’d love to share them with you, so here we are.

This blog will look a little different from the previous ones I’ve authored. I plan to write in series of thoughts that may arc for several weeks at a time, exploring different facets of a particular question or topic. I also plan to write somewhere between once a week and every other week, with the entries hopefully being well worth the time you give me by stopping by.

My title is Intersections – and you can see from the bar on top that intersections are places where roads meet, choices are made, collisions happen and directions change. I want to write about where spiritual things meet up with the everyday. Pain, nature, ideas, culture, choices, emotions, creativity, relationships, the scriptures, significant conversations. These are the things on my heart and mind right now. And these are the places where we meet up with God, aren’t they?

So, Welcome, Willkommen and Velkommen. Hope to see you around here in the coming days, weeks, months and hopefully years.