“I’m Not Unaffected By This” (Being Human pt. 9)

Recently I was in a conversation with an acquaintance and something happened that caught me off guard. A little background… This person isn’t a long time friend. Our relationship is a relatively new one, so when I talk with him, I am more of an unknown quantity than with y’all who have known me for years, either in person or via blog. And it was a situation where the content of the conversation wasn’t really up to me. It was one of those sort-of-forced-sharing times, where a topic that is deeper than normal small talk comes up.

This particular day, it was safe and it was appropriate, so I decided to go there, to bare something of my soul and share a somewhat complicated story of how God had recently worked in my life. But this time, contrary to my normal modus operandi, I didn’t have all my storytelling ducks in a row. I missed parts and messed up the sequence of events. I talked in sort of a quiet monotone, which is very different from my large group speaking voice. I even looked at some rough notes I had scribbled down and read part of it verbatim. I wasn’t trying to wow him with my story. I wasn’t trying to teach anything. I wasn’t test driving an idea to use in a later teaching time or blog post. I was just taking the opportunity before me to release a little pressure on my soul and communicate from the heart with someone sitting right in front of me, someone who had really asked how I was doing.

After I finished, this acquaintance had a stunned look on his face. Initially, I was very concerned that he was about to reject me or my story. His response landed powerfully on my heart. He said, “Deanna, I’m not unaffected by this.”

As I thought about his meaning, I realized that he had just told me something very important. He was letting me know that my story and my life had power. Its effects were rippling across the table to where he was. It wasn’t that I was trying to do this. It wasn’t that my methods were the most effective. It was that God had inhabited my story and energized it. And when I took a chance to share it, He used it in the life of another.

As a result, I’ve spent some time thinking about the role God plays in our stories. Sometimes we throw our words around as if they aren’t really powerful, as if they were ours to own and control. Yet sometimes God claims what is His – our stories and our words, our personalities and the style in which we talk, and He gives it more power than it has on its own. He applies it to another’s heart. He uses us to affect them.

This is the part of communication that is outside of our control. We can prepare for it. We can pray for it. But we can’t command it to happen. Sometimes God makes our stories more than just OUR stories. Sometimes He reclaims them as HIS stories.

Being human means we have stories. We hear stories. And they affect us. Or not, if we choose to close our hearts down and be unaffected.

Being human means we can choose to enter into this messy part of our humanity with others – by sharing our stories and by opening ourselves up to being affected by their stories. Or not. I am thinking these days about how to allow myself to be affected. And how to be available should God choose to use me to affect others.

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.

Permission To Come Undone (Being Human pt. 6)

I was talking with a friend of mine recently and she is one of ‘those’ kinds of friends. You know the type. She knows how to ask the right question, how to listen intently and wait as long as it takes to get the real answer, the right answer and to make you feel safe enough that if you wanted to…you could cry with her. And it would totally be ok.

Unfortunately, those sorts of people are few and far between.

At the start of our conversation I decided to throw out a test question, to see if I had read her correctly and if she was indeed as safe as I thought. I asked it with some context that isn’t important here and also in a genuinely light-hearted manner, so it wasn’t quite as awkward as it will seem. “So… if I come undone today during our time together, that’s ok, right?” Without batting an eye,  with a smile and gentle chuckle even, she replied, “You have complete permission to come undone.”

As I reflected on our conversation that day, I wondered why her words stuck with me. Could it have been her comfort with whatever form of emotion I chose to express? Her invitation for me to be as real or as vulnerable as I wanted? Maybe it was how she managed to create a safe place for us to talk and exchange more than just information. And I thought about how few places there are in my life where I have permission to come undone.

I found it sort of sad that somehow our emotions aren’t always as welcome into a conversation as our intellect or humor. What does it say about my normal conversational style and rhythms that I felt I needed permission from another person to express how I felt? Aren’t my emotions a valid and important part of who I am? And why is it that I am not always comfortable with this part of me or this part of others when it is their turn to come undone?

Jesus meets us in our humanity. This is the main thesis of the series entitled Being Human. There are things in our most fleshly, most earthly, most human parts that Jesus loves to inhabit, to speak to, to heal, to change, to redeem, to restore, to love. Jesus made us humans and He made us human. This includes our tears.

There are times we come undone and it is very much ok. Natural. Healthy. Those times when emotion bubbles and pours out of us. And while I can’t fully explain it, sometimes part of the undoing process must involve others – being with those who know how to guide us into and out of our undoing. Then we learn, when it is our turn, to walk others into and out of their undoing. While there is certainly a time for crying alone, I’m not sure that is how God planned it. It seems to me that when we learn to weep together, and this part of our humanity becomes ok in community, something powerful happens.

We connect. We learn to trust someone else with our pain. Shame dissipates. We humble ourselves with each other, cracking the door to greater relational depth. We learn to open our hearts in the presence of others, making peace with who God has made us to be, even when it is a bit messy. Or a lot messy. Jesus shows up and inhabits those moments, using us in each others lives to begin the process of ‘undoing’ what sin has done – and to begin the process of ‘re-doing’ us in His image.

So I’ve been wondering, when people are talking with me, am I a safe person? Am I comfortable enough in my own skin and with my own emotional health to invite others to be as real as they choose, to express whatever they feel with no fear of rejection or shame? Am I a good enough conversationalist that I can lead and/or follow people to talk about things that are important enough, where we get beyond just the head and maybe, just maybe, delve into the arena of the heart?

And am I willing to go first when appropriate?

Today My Baby Girl Turns 10 – A Fun Look Back

Today my baby girl turns 10 – and I’m wondering how in the world it is possible that I’ve been the mother to a daughter for a decade now. In fact, as I’m thinking about how I feel, I’m so bottled up with emotion, that this semi-professional writer/communicator is at a loss for words eloquent or beautiful enough to describe her. And then I

My big girl, almost all grown up. How in the world did this happen?

remembered – I’ve actually been writing about her for quite sometime now.

So in honor of her birthday, I give you two previous posts I wrote waaaaay back. The first one I was from 2 months in to my blogging adventure in July of 2005. She was just 3 and a 1/2. (To see my first blog, a true labor of love, click here.) I wasn’t trying to be any kind of writer: just a mom who  wanted to capture a moment in time so that I could remember how special it all was.  The second one was a conversation I had with her one afternoon when she was 6. It was also a really great mother-daughter moment I didn’t want to forget.

7/3/05

She hides nothing of her personality. With her

Georgia at 3 and a 1/2, doing what she did best back then, having fun!

what you see is what you get: Lots of emotion, joy, strength of will and fantastic interpersonal skills. At 3 and a ½ she can work a crowd better than an politician. Just last week I saw her convince a very handsome, very tall 20- something guy (who had something else to do) to run with her through an inflatable obstacle course (that honestly was too big for her) and have so much fun doing it that he asked her to run it again. The word that comes to mind is fearless. She’s not afraid of people, of tasks, and unfortunately of gravity. Some nights when I check on her and her brother in their room she’s in bed with him, snuggling. She’s sunshine most days with a smile that could melt icebergs and a charisma that charms the meanest humbug. She loves the freedom to let her hair fly (which it does, quite unmanageably so), to choose her own clothes (somedays she just wants to “wear something pretty, mama”) and to express whatever emotion comes into that great big heart of hers. She loves princesses, talking, anything that sparkles, Wonder Woman (since her brother loves superheroes she just can’t be left out), talking, wearing other people’s shoes if they leave them out, Dora the Explorer, talking, holding hands, snuggling, talking, bugging her big brother and anything else that lets her talk. She’s the best little hugger and kisser I’ve ever met (much to her dad’s consternation). Little clouds come into her eyes when we speak to her harshly or tell her no (a phrase she hears rarely or works around). She’s sensitive yet resilient. Strong, yet quite girly. Always seeking the fun in a situation and smart enough to make it happen if she needs to. While she seems quite laid back, she still sucks the two middle fingers of her left hand and twirls her hair with the other when she is nervous or tired, sometimes with such intensity that she actually pulls hair out. I call her our little sunshine since that’s what follows her everywhere she goes.

5/27/08

Georgia – Mom, do you like being married?
Mom – Yes I do, baby, very very much.
G – What do you like most about it? The kissing?
M – Well yes, the kissing part is great and I enjoy that a lot. But do you know what else I really like about being married?
G – What?
M – Your dad. He’s my best friend. And he loves me. And do you know what else?
G – The kissing? You guys seem to kiss a lot.
M – Yeah, I do love kissing your dad. But it makes me really happy that I may not know where God will lead me or what He’ll ask me to do, but I always know who I’ll be going with. I never have to be alone. One day you and Jeffrey will go off on your own and get married and start your own families. But your daddy and I will still be together.
G – Will I get to kiss my husband?

Georgia rocking all kinds of coolness in Copenhagen at 6.

M – Oh yes! And you’ll love it too.
G – But can we come back to visit?
M – You can always come back to visit. Any time you want baby. That’s what being a family is all about. We live life together.
G – Mom, can I get a tattoo?
M – Not for a long time. A really really long time baby. Do you want to talk about marriage anymore?
G – No. Can we get some ice cream?
M – Whatever you want baby. Love you.
G – Love you too Mom.

Blazing New Trails (Heart Stuff pt. 9)

This short video not only made me laugh out loud, but it made me think.

Sometimes my emotional reactions…and my conversations, which are actually my emotional reactions in words…are so predictable…and so unhealthy.

My heart seems to have these well-worn paths in it. These trails I naturally follow without even thinking about it. And often, they are so destructive. The other day I was in the car and began to mindlessly drive, not fully paying attention to where I was going. (This should be a terrifying thing if you think about it.) Before I realized what I was doing, I ended up a few miles down the road towards Abby’s preschool, which is a route I drive every weekday, twice a day. Unfortunately I was on my way to Target, in the complete opposite direction.

I was angry with myself because I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing. It was evidence that if I don’t concentrate on what I am doing, I sometimes end up in unintended places.

My heart seems to do the same thing. A hypothetical example…

An event happens in my life that makes me fearful. And my response is to indulge the fear. (Which isn’t always the wrong response.) To let my imagination play with a few worst-case scenarios for a while. Then I might pray about the situation a bit, but in a negative, self-defeating and unproductive way. “How could You let this happen God? Why don’t You love me? Fix this, now!” For the record, those can be good prayers, but we all know, sometimes these words don’t reflect engagement, but are the opening steps on the path to doubt and anger. Then I rush to begin thinking about how to bypass Jesus in the situation and try to fix it myself, because I am not so sure He can handle it. Or that He has my best interests at heart. Or that He fully understands what is going on. Which leads me to distance myself from Him. And then, I find myself growing even more fearful. Sigh.

Or a friend doesn’t pick up on the subtle clues I’m throwing out there that I need something from them. Encouragement. A phone call. A hug. A safe place to just vent a bit without looking for answers. And I indulge the hurt. And I indulge the anger. And I begin a series of imagined conversations where I am able,  in my head of course, to say exactly what I think and feel, where I might use my words to make my friend feel guilty for not being able to read my mind (which, for the record, no one is able to do), where I end up feeling good about being superior and invulnerable to relational pain. And I find myself distancing myself from a needed friend and experiencing emotional pain, without them even knowing it. And without any way to fix it because this whole experience took place in my heart, where no one else ever saw it happen. Sigh.

I am thinking these days about how to blaze some newer, healthier trails in my heart.  About how to have different, more productive conversations that go somewhere new, rather than round and round. About how to engage Jesus in my thought and emotional processes much earlier, so that He and I can avoid following the well-worn, destructive paths that lead to the same predictable and unhealthy places.

The Bible actually describes this process in Rom. 12:2 “…but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” But sometimes the application of what is a common Sunday School answer is more complicated than just, “Stop thinking that!” Sometimes the process of blazing new emotional, conversational and inner monologue trails requires a lot of self-awareness, where I slow down enough to really think about where I am going. It requires a good travel buddy, who I not only trust with all the pertinent information, but who I invite to offer feedback. (Sort of like going on a road trip and one person drives while the other holds the map. Both are needed to get where you are going.) It requires a lot of intentional effort on my part. Because well-worn paths are always easier to follow than new roads that might still be under construction.  And if I’ve spent years mindlessly driving the old roads, it takes a long time of concerted effort to learn to pull out of my driveway in a different direction.

Known Is Safe – And Sometimes Really Destructive

Is. 42:16 I will lead the blind by ways they have not known, along unfamiliar paths I will guide them; I will turn the darkness into light before them and make the rough places smooth. 

When my European friends come to visit, one of the most enjoyable things I get to do is introduce them to real American experiences, those things that generally we LOVE! Those places that when we are overseas we get all emotional thinking about and missing …those places that are the first stop for Americans getting off the plane…Of course I’m talking about Chick Fila and the chicken sandwich. (I could be talking about Krispy Kreme doughnuts, but for brevity’s sake, let’s stick with the chicken house.)

There is one day I remember in particular, when I took a European friend to this most hallowed of places for lunch. It wasn’t her first time there and while she had previously seen the over-the-top love most of my fellow (southern) Americans have for this most special chicken sandwich, she proceeded to do something that pretty much blew my mind. She ordered a grilled chicken sandwich instead of the traditional chicken sandwich.

It was all I could do to not grow a second head in shock and stare at her judgmentally with all four of my eyes, some of which were twitching. I guess I knew Chick Fila had different types of sandwiches besides the traditional one, and I could have guessed they were rather tasty. (Because, come on, has anyone ever eaten something they don’t like at Chick Fila?) But it never would have dawned on me to actually  deviate from my normal. 

I, like many people, have my standard order. My routine. I hardly even look at the menu anymore because I order the same thing, time and again. I know what I like and that is the path I tread almost every visit. What is known is safe. Comfortable. 

Or is it?

My friend, who had fresh eyes and different tastes saw that there were possibilities besides what I had always done. In fact, she saw something attractive (and even healthy) in the new and different. Outside perspectives of our normal can be so incredibly valuable. 

And of course I’ve been exploring the other applications of this truth, that what is known and familiar isn’t always the best. It is just known and familiar. It is my default, I’m-not-really-thinking-about-what-I-am-doing position. And when I apply this behavior pattern to relationships and conversations, sometimes what is known and familiar can be really destructive. 

How many choices to I make everyday without thinking, just because it is what I always do? For example:

She says that thing that always gets on my nerves, and rather than exercise any amount of self-control, I respond in the way that always provokes her…and we argue.

He does that thing, whatever that thing is that always pushes my buttons… and I do what I always do in response, that always irritates him…and we end up passive aggressive, with our bodies sitting next to each other on the couch but our hearts miles away. Then we say, “Whatever you want to watch is fine…” 

You get my point.

So, how do I re-wire some of these well-worn paths so that I can see that I have different choices? How do I intentionally invite others, with a different and healthy perspective to speak into my ‘normal’ and show me I actually have options? How do I invite Jesus into this process so that He can teach me how to live in freedom from those things that would master me through habit, repetition and ignorance?

The Art of Communication

I’m a communicator – hey, we all are! God has wired us this way and we can’t help ourselves. We’ve got things in our hearts that we’ve just got to get out! We long to connect with others and our words are the pathway relationship travels on. Yet communicating well, so people can clearly hear what you are really saying, is a tremendous challenge. With that in mind, this clever and unbelievably well-worded video spoke to me! Enjoy!

Then of course, below is a classic example of communication that totally works while breaking all the rules. Full of slang, bad English and all manner of terrible speaking habits (gum, “so”, and “like…”) Cher still manages to make her point quite effectively in a debate about the Haitians. This is still one of my favorite movies, just for the dialogue.

Thoughts On Contentment

While I was at the women’s retreat in Berlin this summer (click here for the story), we spent Saturday afternoon enjoying a picnic and the best weather a German summer day has to offer. It was really great. Great food, great conversation, great sunshine – you name it, it was great. But it was sort of humorous to me when

Picnic with the ladies where really good questions came up.

several of the girls wanted to ask me questions about…well, stuff. Random stuff. Spiritual stuff. Wife and mom stuff. The questions weren’t so humorous but that honestly, anyone else would really care about my opinion. But ask they did, so I did my best to answer.

One question in particular haunted me – in a good way. Someone asked me, “How do you experience contentment in any and every situation, regardless of what is going on in your life?” Now I ask you, how would you like to be asked that question? Those who know the answer have probably published best selling books…aaaaaaannnnnnddddddd….that’s so not me.  I remember my stomach dropping as I thought about it and realized, I didn’t have a very good answer.

So I did what teachers often do when they don’t know what to say. I started talking anyway. Actually, I thought about Paul since he said, “I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation…” Phil 4:12 First of all, can you imagine being able to actually say such a thing with a straight face? Second, FYI – if you don’t know the answer to a question, starting with the Bible and godly examples are good places to begin.

Then as I talked a bit, I remembered that in 2 Cor. 11 Paul lists all he’s been through in his life as a follower of Christ. If you haven’t read this, you really should. Shipwrecked. Three times. Beaten with rods and with the lash. Multiple times. Stoned. Prison. Hunger. Thirst. Nakedness. Betrayal from all corners. Exhaustion. Can we just go back to that shipwrecked three times thing again? Really?

And it occurred to me that Paul learned the secret of being content by walking through long and difficult seasons of discontent. In other words, the secret of contentment is intricately intertwined with discontentment. He confirms what we all already know – that contentment is for those who have fought for it. For those who have let the pressure of their external circumstances produce spiritual fruit in their internal condition.

Because we all also already know that contentment isn’t really about external circumstances. How else do you explain unhappiness among the wealthy, sadness in suburbia, self-esteem issues among beautiful people, etc. Those who seemingly have all the world has to offer still know deep in their souls that what is on the outside is just that. Outside. It is the inside and in our hearts where our lives are changed.

Contentment is a heart issue. Therefore the secret to learning contentment lies in letting God change our hearts. Sometimes the pain of discontent is the only tool that will do the job.

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?

What Are You So Afraid Of?

Proverbs 15:31 He who listens to a life-giving rebuke will be at home among the wise.

“Worry is a cycle of inefficient thoughts whirling around a center of fear.” Corrie ten Boom

I wrote previously about a great conversation I had with a friend who challenged me on my tendency to repeat cycling through the same topics without making progress. I also had a friend ask me recently, “What are you so afraid of?”

This question caught me off guard. I hadn’t realized just how many of my actions were motivated by fear. Or how obvious it was to those around me. Right after this conversation and  question, I sat down with God, my Bible and a journal to answer it. In a moment of soul-baring honesty, I just started writing – and this is what came bubbling out.

Fear of the future. Fear of “what if…” Fear of the unknown. Fear that I’m dreaming the wrong dream or that I’m dreaming too big. Fear that people will laugh at me (particularly because of the dreams I have). Fear of a wasted life. Fear of God not loving me enough or not being able or willing to step in on my behalf. Fear that I am not good enough, strong enough or smart enough to do the things I’m called to do. Fear that I am hearing God’s voice in my life wrongly.  Fear that the best part of my life is past and the future is downhill. Fear that I won’t get to do the things I love to do and feel like I was created to do. Fear that I really am as insignificant and unimportant as I often think I am. Fear that God doesn’t really love me like He says He does but puts up with me because He has to. Fear that as a teacher and writer I’m wearing the emperor’s invisible clothing – thinking what I do is beautiful and useful but in actuality, those around me are laughing.

And unfortunately, my list of fears could go on and on. Some days I really am quite a big mess. I needed a good question and a deep conversation to stop me in my tracks, to wake me up to a spiritual limp that was crippling my forward progress. I needed some time with my Jesus to show me that:

“There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears in not made perfect in love.” I John 4:18

God has promised that He will never leave of forsake me, that He will be with me wherever I go,  that I will never fall out of His hand, that He intends good, not harm for me, that if I delight myself in Him, He will give me the desires of my heart. (Joshua 1:5 and 9, John 10:31, Jer. 29:11, Ps. 37:4) Part of being a child of God means that I believe my Dad when He speaks.

I know these things in my head – it’s just that some days, when I’m tired, confused or discouraged, it takes them a while to travel to my heart.

Which is why I need friends who engage me on big and important ideas. Great conversation breathes life to my soul. I am so grateful when someone knows me well enough and  loves me deeply enough to speak truth (gently, gently…) in such a way that something inside of me shakes loose. No one knows how much gunk is between their teeth until they floss. Whether  it is dental or spiritual, denial sets us up for much bigger problems later. I’m so thankful for friends who are brave enough to ask thought-provoking, heart-rattling questions. And  a God who speaks clearly when I settle down to listen.

My takeaway was two-fold:

1. I need to cultivate those relationships that breathe life into me. I need to look for those people who recognize truth, but also have the wisdom to wield it well.

2. I need to live as if I believe the truth that as a child of God, I am indeed safe in His will for my life and that His plans for me are good.

The Danger Of Repeated Conversations

(The Danger series, pt. 1)

A rebuke impresses a man of discernment more than a hundred lashes a fool. Pr. 17:10

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

Wounds from a friend can be trusted…Pr. 27:6

Recently I was visiting with a friend I usually only see face to face about once a year. Because the time together with friends like that is so limited, conversation goes to different and deeper levels pretty quickly. There is no luxury of small talk. Like the grandparent who only sees the grandchild once a year, instantly noticing just how much they’ve grown and changed, friends like this offer me really valuable observations. They don’t hear the intermediate steps in my thought processes, just moments frozen in time, a year or so apart. Progress, or lack thereof is pretty obvious with a glance.

All this to say, I felt slapped in the face by this recent conversation. In a good way, to be sure, but slapped in the face nonetheless. As my friend and I were talking about one of my heart issues, she said, “Deanna, we had this exact conversation a year ago. It seems like you should have moved on. If, in 5 years, we are still having the same conversation, I’ll be very sad.” How ’bout that for honest exchange? The memory of the hand print on my cheek still stings.

She realized and called me on the fact that with this particular issue, I had made almost no progress in the last year. I was shocked at the honest look at myself, a bit embarrassed by the truth of it and more grateful than I can say for the opportunity to kick a particular area of my life out of neutral and into gear.

This experience was helpful to me in starting to really listen to the things I’m talking about with my trusted friends and realizing the danger of repeated conversations. Having time to process particular issues through a series of conversations is certainly useful. Some heart topics require a season to move through, and it is an amazing blessing to have faithful friends  who are willing to walk alongside. But at some point I need to break the cycle of endless analysis and hand wringing and start moving forward. At some point, I need to start having new conversations.