I have been drudging around a heavy laden heart for some time now.
There have been recent events that have stirred up the necessity of forgiveness. Lots of forgiveness. From many different fronts, this need arose. My heart was entangling itself in the lies of the what ifs, the what nows, the why mes. Bitterness spread out its trendils. The threadlike shoots grew in depth and breadth. They took hold of the beats of my heart and began to alter them. The irregularity began to effect every aspect of my functionality. I was faltering daily. I was beginning to extend the pain to those around me in an attempt to release it from myself. It hurt. It was crippling. My relationships began to crumble before my eyes as those trendils of bitterness began to work into the nooks and crevices. The vines began to split open seams and create holes where once there were none. Every day the root of bitterness breached further into my body. Clasping itself around my lungs and making each breath harder and herder to take in. Engulfing my brain, pressing the thoughts Satan so desired me to believe to the forefront. Weighty throngs of vines now draped over my shoulders and broke me, bent me, bowing me down to the filth of the earth. I began to breath in the dust and filth that swirled by my feet. The dust and filth I usually could simply walk over and not feel the effects of it absorbing into my lungs... but now, being broken... I was filtering it all into my body with every breath. I was coughing and choking on the earthly filth that my Strength once protected me from when I was pruning and caring for that heart of mine. How quickly this wicked root of bitterness had taken its toll.
Still. Being broken and breathless, I was still not ready to let go this bitter root. I wanted to use the wrongs that had been done to me and dangle them in the faces of those who'd hurt me. I wanted them to know my pain. I wanted them to suffer the agony I had been living in. I wanted the power to withhold that forgiveness they so longed for. They hurt too. I took joy in that. I took joy in every ounce of hurt. Every stitch of pain. Every twinge of regret. I loved it. I wanted them to feel it exponentially more.
Truthfully, I wanted this writhing fate for only a few of those who had sinned against me. Others I wanted to forgive and move forward with. I wanted reconciliation. I wanted my life back. So I forgave some, and allowed others to continue in their journey of pain.
This is when God did a mighty work.
That person I forgave... possibly the person who sinned most against me... I could no longer feel bitterness towards. I almost wanted to feel it and throw it in their face a time or two... but I couldn't. God had replaced that bitter root with a root of love, compassion, tenderness. It was so strange, and yet refreshing.
But then there was still another, whom I held tight to my bitterness and refused to utter forgiveness in their direction. It was easy to hate them. Easy to have no mercy... until... God showed me something.
One morning, this morning in fact... I am sure no coincidence that it is Thanksgiving morn... God burdened my heart with a thought. "What if I AM using this hurt, this pain, this opportunity to grant you forgiveness? What if I AM using it to show you your lack of trust in TRUE forgiveness?"
I have harbored anger for a long while. Taylor and I have tried to figure out the root of this anger for years. YEARS. Yes. My hidden fault, one of many, is anger. It hit me this morning what exactly that root was.
I have repented and asked for forgives of my sins many times over in anticipation of FORGIVENESS... but I did so without much faith that it was actually given, because... drum roll... I didn't forgive myself. I was allowing others to forgive me, God to forgive me, but I was not letting go of it. I was not forgiving myself. I was holding on to it and using it against myself every time I fell short, every time I gave into sin. Every dang time. I have not loved myself as God has loved me. I have not seen myself as God has seen me. I hated who I was, what I'd done, and was bitter in the wake of the lack of change. I thought I was bitter towards God... but turns out He was on my side. He was willing to Love me when I wouldn't love myself. He tried to show this to me, I just couldn't see. I was blinded by my own self hatred.
In LOVE, He allowed those I trusted to hurt me. in LOVE, He granted me the ability to forgive. In LOVE, He prevented me from taking that hurt and using it against those I'd forgiven. In LOVE, He revealed His will.
Oh Father, how LONG I have wept in and through my pain and anger. How long I have pleaded for change and yet I was so stubborn as to withhold true forgiveness. Forgiveness you freely gave to me each and every time I laid my sins at your feet. God, please allow me to let go of this anger towards myself. Allow me to forgive myself. Allow me to receive Your mercy in my heart towards others and myself. THANK YOU JESUS, for dying for my sins, that I might be forgiven. THANK YOU, for granting me forgiveness, so that I might forgive others, including myself!
Praise Him, all you weary!
Praise Him all you sinners
Sing oh sing you weary
Oh praise Him all you children of God
We lift high His glory
Shown throughout our stories
We praise Him as the children of God
Our Great Redeemer
Glorious Savior
Your name is higher than the rising sun
Light of the morning
You shine forever
Your name is higher than the rising sun
Your name is higher than the rising sun
Praise His name forever
Speak it loud and clear now
Oh praise Him all you children of God
Our Great Redeemer
Glorious Savior
Your name is higher than the rising sun
Light of the morning
You shine forever
Your name is higher than the rising sun
Your name is higher than the rising sun
Hallelujah name above all
Simply to speak Your name is praise
Hallelujah I will always forever
We lift your name in praise
LL
Thursday, November 27, 2014
Thursday, October 30, 2014
My Refridgerator lead me to Jesus.
I feel compelled to preface this post by saying that in no way am I desiring to elicit a response of sympathy, charity, or supposition that I resent my husband's income. Because if that is your take away, I will be highly offended and saddened that the glory due to Christ was not given. Taylor and I have willingly placed ourselves in a lifestyle of minimal income. I am not saying it is always easy, or that we both don't want things we can't often afford, but the limited funds has helped us to keep our spending priorities in place and after this past week, has helped to see our Father's loving hand more clearly.
This week has been a testing of my nerves and faith. Hubby and I were down to the last few dollars in our account, and yet we still had a week before payday. What food was in our home would be the food that would feed our family, including school lunches for Corin, for the next week. Yikes. We have done self imposed "no shopping" weeks in attempts to use up freezer and pantry foods, but this was a little different. No more, "Oh, well we really have to have milk, sugar, flour and butter... But then it can be a no shopping week. Oh and some tomatoes for that one dish I was going to make with our surplus of noodles..." nope. What we had was what we would have until it was gone. As a consumer driven society, I think we easily fall into the trap of thinking that whatever we are used to having readily or consistently available to us is a need. But I learned this week, they are not. Meal by meal, we used up the contents of our freezer, pantry, and especially the fridge. "Staples" like flour, sugar, milk, cereal, oatmeal, olive oil, butter... They all left empty containers or spaces in their stead. The experimentation began and to be honest, most of the food I made got good reviews. In utilizing bouillon, spices, legumes and rice, I was even able to vary the ethnicity of our dishes. It was incredibly satisfying to accomplish this... But more than satisfying, it was humbling. I realized my attitude of entitlement quite clearly. I had to forgo outings with friends to conserve gas, use powdered creamer in place of milk in my coffee(gasp), and actually prepare a cooked meal to put in Corin's lunchbox each morning. There was no meat in our diet, but there was an abundance of root vegetables and even fruit "slushies" from our freezer and pantry stashes. Everytime I felt like I couldn't make another complete meal with what we had, the Lord placed a creative thought in my head and I would suddenly have the curious urge to see if I could execute the experimental meal in reality. Not only did He provide inspiration, but physically provided food, through friends who came to visit. Seriously. A pizza dinner, a Mexican buffet, a pumpkin, a can of oats with dried fruit, delicious muffins and even pumpkin butter. I was in awe as I saw the Lord's hand provide day after day, meal after meal. I took a picture of the contents of our fridge and in looking at that picture, I was brought to tears. Not because of what it lacked, but because of what it still had yet to provide. There are still several meals and snacks worth in this fridge, believe it or not... In conjunction with some pantry partners, but still... Several meals and snacks. Awe, people, sheer awe was streaking down my face in salty droplets of joy, adoration, thankfulness, and renewed trust. In Matthew it talks about how God clothes the lilies of the fields and feeds the birds of the sky... How much more would he provide for us?! Oh how RICHLY He does. When we expect that we are owed more than what is truly necessary for life, when we develop a consumer mentality of entitlement, we lose sight of how truly blessed we are. Of how RICHLY AND ABUNDANTLY our Father provides and cares for us. For us, it took a week to whittle down our resources and be exposed to our entitlement issues. How long would your kitchen truly sustain you? No frills, and certainly not food pyramid friendly meals everytime, but sustain and fill you. How long would it take for Jesus to speak your heart through your empty fridge or pantry? How long... How long have I been ungrateful for His overly abundant blessings?
LL
This week has been a testing of my nerves and faith. Hubby and I were down to the last few dollars in our account, and yet we still had a week before payday. What food was in our home would be the food that would feed our family, including school lunches for Corin, for the next week. Yikes. We have done self imposed "no shopping" weeks in attempts to use up freezer and pantry foods, but this was a little different. No more, "Oh, well we really have to have milk, sugar, flour and butter... But then it can be a no shopping week. Oh and some tomatoes for that one dish I was going to make with our surplus of noodles..." nope. What we had was what we would have until it was gone. As a consumer driven society, I think we easily fall into the trap of thinking that whatever we are used to having readily or consistently available to us is a need. But I learned this week, they are not. Meal by meal, we used up the contents of our freezer, pantry, and especially the fridge. "Staples" like flour, sugar, milk, cereal, oatmeal, olive oil, butter... They all left empty containers or spaces in their stead. The experimentation began and to be honest, most of the food I made got good reviews. In utilizing bouillon, spices, legumes and rice, I was even able to vary the ethnicity of our dishes. It was incredibly satisfying to accomplish this... But more than satisfying, it was humbling. I realized my attitude of entitlement quite clearly. I had to forgo outings with friends to conserve gas, use powdered creamer in place of milk in my coffee(gasp), and actually prepare a cooked meal to put in Corin's lunchbox each morning. There was no meat in our diet, but there was an abundance of root vegetables and even fruit "slushies" from our freezer and pantry stashes. Everytime I felt like I couldn't make another complete meal with what we had, the Lord placed a creative thought in my head and I would suddenly have the curious urge to see if I could execute the experimental meal in reality. Not only did He provide inspiration, but physically provided food, through friends who came to visit. Seriously. A pizza dinner, a Mexican buffet, a pumpkin, a can of oats with dried fruit, delicious muffins and even pumpkin butter. I was in awe as I saw the Lord's hand provide day after day, meal after meal. I took a picture of the contents of our fridge and in looking at that picture, I was brought to tears. Not because of what it lacked, but because of what it still had yet to provide. There are still several meals and snacks worth in this fridge, believe it or not... In conjunction with some pantry partners, but still... Several meals and snacks. Awe, people, sheer awe was streaking down my face in salty droplets of joy, adoration, thankfulness, and renewed trust. In Matthew it talks about how God clothes the lilies of the fields and feeds the birds of the sky... How much more would he provide for us?! Oh how RICHLY He does. When we expect that we are owed more than what is truly necessary for life, when we develop a consumer mentality of entitlement, we lose sight of how truly blessed we are. Of how RICHLY AND ABUNDANTLY our Father provides and cares for us. For us, it took a week to whittle down our resources and be exposed to our entitlement issues. How long would your kitchen truly sustain you? No frills, and certainly not food pyramid friendly meals everytime, but sustain and fill you. How long would it take for Jesus to speak your heart through your empty fridge or pantry? How long... How long have I been ungrateful for His overly abundant blessings?
LL
Friday, September 26, 2014
Ain't Seen the Sun Shine
"I hear that train acomin'. It's rollin' 'round the bend. And I ain't seen the sun shine since... I don't know when."
I'm stuck in my own prison, and time keeps draggin' by.
The train, well I am pretty sure it ran me over, caught me by the bootstrap, and continues to drag me down the line.
Kicking and screaming.
Fighting for a grip.
The train is just too strong.
Railroad ties rip my flesh as I am flailing.
am broken.
am bleeding.
Gravel embedded in my tissue.
My eyelids scrape and catch as I try to flush out the sand and grit with my tears.
Fingertips and palms raw as I feel for a stronghold.
my chest throbs from the weeping, wheezing, and longing for relief.
My heart beats irregularly to the rhythm of the clickety clank.
It would be so easy to just give up hope... If I didn't know that Hope existed.
LL
I'm stuck in my own prison, and time keeps draggin' by.
The train, well I am pretty sure it ran me over, caught me by the bootstrap, and continues to drag me down the line.
Kicking and screaming.
Fighting for a grip.
The train is just too strong.
Railroad ties rip my flesh as I am flailing.
am broken.
am bleeding.
Gravel embedded in my tissue.
My eyelids scrape and catch as I try to flush out the sand and grit with my tears.
Fingertips and palms raw as I feel for a stronghold.
my chest throbs from the weeping, wheezing, and longing for relief.
My heart beats irregularly to the rhythm of the clickety clank.
It would be so easy to just give up hope... If I didn't know that Hope existed.
LL
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Consuming dark vortex.
There is a constant swirling vortex.
It is varying shades of dark.
The base color varies from season to season, but the darkness remains.
Currently, my vortex is blue.
A color of longing, loneliness, the vast unknown... But it is swirling with whisping strands of darkness.
Strands of pitch black, complete emptiness, entangle themselves in my vortex of emotions.
This vortex, it consumes... It draws in... It funnels all it catches into me.
Inward.
Only inward.
There is no filter, no selectiveness.
My selfish, fleshly desires, stirred up this tornadic need for outward approval, affection, affirmation, acceptance.
Yet the needs of my heart are unmet.
The world cannot provide what my heart longs for.
The vortex only serves to mangle the relationships it becomes intertwined with.
It pulls at the fibers of those relationships, slowly fraying each.
The frays soon become holes.
Empty places where once there were woven strands of beauty and balance.
As I reflect on the blues, blacks, navies and grays swirling before me, I picture the web of a waiting funnel web spider.
She waits in earnest at the base of her funnel, waiting for sustenance to entrap itself in her web.
After devouring the nourishing contents, she disposes of the unconsumed, unusable bits.
At times I feel this way.
At times I allow my primal needs to lead me and guide me, and yet every time... Every time... I end up with these unconsumed bits.
IF my vortex were taking in the right sustenance, The Lord God, then there would be no waste.
No unconsumed bits.
Because what God gives is pure, there is no need for refining, for filtering, for picking around rotten spots.
His gifts are satisfying.
His sustenance meets our needs. Every time.
Every time.
And when His fibers become entangled in my vortex, He does not unravel, rather He weaves us together.
His supply of golden, shining strands of Light are never ceasing.
These golden strands reflect his Light amidst my vortex and the darkness fades and soon disappears.
The blue I once thought seemed lonesome, vast, longing... Now seems to shift into an array of yellows, oranges, reds.
Like a fiery sunset, a swirling of rich, vibrant, glowing colors and light.
The funnel that once tapered in towards my heart, now seems to lessen in its inwards sloping.
It seems to draw in, as well as draw out.
This vortex draws out the dross, the waste, the filth via those Golden Strands.
My needs are no longer unmet.
The vortex slows.
It seems to slow to a calming sculpture of intertwining vines rather than strands.
The Vines that glimmer in my vortex are Vines of Truth.
True Acceptance, True Affirmation, True Affection, True All.
It is Love.
It is True Love.
Love I have been looking for in other places, other ways, in false idols.
These false idols have fed me just enough to keep me hungry.
Just enough to keep me alive, yet longing.
These false idols give me bursts of temporary relief... But they are wavering.
God's Love, God's Provision, God's Relief is constant, there is no wavering in Him...
So why do I turn from Him?
Why do I end up with the inertia of a looming vortex before me?
I think of my inconsistency, my motives, my selfishness, my desire for instant gratification, my desire for control.
All my inward thinking.
All my self righteousness.
"Who among you is wise and understanding? Let him show by his good behavior his deeds in the gentleness of wisdom. But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your heart, do not be arrogant and so lie against the truth. This wisdom is not that which comes down from above, but which is earthly, natural, demonic. For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there is disorder (vortexes of mass destruction) and every evil thing. But the wisdom from above is first pure, the peaceable, gentle, reasonable, full of mercy and good fruits, unwavering, without hypocrisy. And the seed whose fruit is righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace." James 3:13-18
So while a vortex still swirls before my selfish heart... I can see the Golden Vines growing.
IF I focus on those Vines, they will soon become far reaching vines that will choke out the weeds, the strands that entangle my fallen heart.
Oh let it be so, Lord.
That Your peace would be sown in my heart.
That Your righteousness prevail.
Oh let it be so.
In Jesus' holy and perfect name,
Amen.
LL
It is varying shades of dark.
The base color varies from season to season, but the darkness remains.
Currently, my vortex is blue.
A color of longing, loneliness, the vast unknown... But it is swirling with whisping strands of darkness.
Strands of pitch black, complete emptiness, entangle themselves in my vortex of emotions.
This vortex, it consumes... It draws in... It funnels all it catches into me.
Inward.
Only inward.
There is no filter, no selectiveness.
My selfish, fleshly desires, stirred up this tornadic need for outward approval, affection, affirmation, acceptance.
Yet the needs of my heart are unmet.
The world cannot provide what my heart longs for.
The vortex only serves to mangle the relationships it becomes intertwined with.
It pulls at the fibers of those relationships, slowly fraying each.
The frays soon become holes.
Empty places where once there were woven strands of beauty and balance.
As I reflect on the blues, blacks, navies and grays swirling before me, I picture the web of a waiting funnel web spider.
She waits in earnest at the base of her funnel, waiting for sustenance to entrap itself in her web.
After devouring the nourishing contents, she disposes of the unconsumed, unusable bits.
At times I feel this way.
At times I allow my primal needs to lead me and guide me, and yet every time... Every time... I end up with these unconsumed bits.
IF my vortex were taking in the right sustenance, The Lord God, then there would be no waste.
No unconsumed bits.
Because what God gives is pure, there is no need for refining, for filtering, for picking around rotten spots.
His gifts are satisfying.
His sustenance meets our needs. Every time.
Every time.
And when His fibers become entangled in my vortex, He does not unravel, rather He weaves us together.
His supply of golden, shining strands of Light are never ceasing.
These golden strands reflect his Light amidst my vortex and the darkness fades and soon disappears.
The blue I once thought seemed lonesome, vast, longing... Now seems to shift into an array of yellows, oranges, reds.
Like a fiery sunset, a swirling of rich, vibrant, glowing colors and light.
The funnel that once tapered in towards my heart, now seems to lessen in its inwards sloping.
It seems to draw in, as well as draw out.
This vortex draws out the dross, the waste, the filth via those Golden Strands.
My needs are no longer unmet.
The vortex slows.
It seems to slow to a calming sculpture of intertwining vines rather than strands.
The Vines that glimmer in my vortex are Vines of Truth.
True Acceptance, True Affirmation, True Affection, True All.
It is Love.
It is True Love.
Love I have been looking for in other places, other ways, in false idols.
These false idols have fed me just enough to keep me hungry.
Just enough to keep me alive, yet longing.
These false idols give me bursts of temporary relief... But they are wavering.
God's Love, God's Provision, God's Relief is constant, there is no wavering in Him...
So why do I turn from Him?
Why do I end up with the inertia of a looming vortex before me?
I think of my inconsistency, my motives, my selfishness, my desire for instant gratification, my desire for control.
All my inward thinking.
All my self righteousness.
"Who among you is wise and understanding? Let him show by his good behavior his deeds in the gentleness of wisdom. But if you have bitter jealousy and selfish ambition in your heart, do not be arrogant and so lie against the truth. This wisdom is not that which comes down from above, but which is earthly, natural, demonic. For where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there is disorder (vortexes of mass destruction) and every evil thing. But the wisdom from above is first pure, the peaceable, gentle, reasonable, full of mercy and good fruits, unwavering, without hypocrisy. And the seed whose fruit is righteousness is sown in peace by those who make peace." James 3:13-18
So while a vortex still swirls before my selfish heart... I can see the Golden Vines growing.
IF I focus on those Vines, they will soon become far reaching vines that will choke out the weeds, the strands that entangle my fallen heart.
Oh let it be so, Lord.
That Your peace would be sown in my heart.
That Your righteousness prevail.
Oh let it be so.
In Jesus' holy and perfect name,
Amen.
LL
Thursday, July 17, 2014
the veil
We walk through the doors of an uptown store-front. Already, I am at a disadvantage. I feel awkward and out of place in this neighborhood. The name "Uptown" alone evokes feelings of disconnect, inferiority, and discomfort. I assume I have nothing in common with the sort of people you would find in a wine and cheese bar... yet we are here to meet fellow church goers of a new church we have been visiting. I find, upon entrance, that I am on edge. Taylor is by my side, baby in tow, and we are both casually dressed. It is a beautiful store. Wood and brick create the backdrop for walls of wine bottles perfectly placed, shelves of gourmet jams and jarred finger foods, and a well lit deli style refrigerator flaunting its vast array of cheeses. There are a couple tables and severe; stacks of round wooden cheese boxes, but it is a fairly open space. There are several people gathered in small clusters throughout the venue, all of which have stark white name tag stickers plastered to their chests. The man near the door, who for the first few moments we were in the store had his back turned toward us, slowly rotated to face us and welcomed us with both smile and handshake. After introductions, we begin casual conversation about what we do, where we live, our kids. The number one question asked of parents with infants id presented to us... "so, is she sleeping through the night yet?" This of course turns into a reliving of the days when all our children were horrible sleepers and then he says, unbeknownst of our history, "yeah, I remember when my son slept through the night for the first time, and I ran to his room thinking he was dead."
Done. Conversation over. I need wine, NOW.
In a span of five minutes, I went from discomfort, to beginning to enjoy myself, to recalling the worst day of my life. It wasn't his fault. How could he know? How could he know that I, in fact, DID run to my child's room after a too long nap and find him not breathing. He couldn't have known. I don't hold that against him. But I noticed immediately, that it set that evening up for "The Veil." "the Veil" is what I have come to refer to as my dark place in plain sight. I am hidden, but not completely. It is a state of feeling, but I can only describe it as a veil.
It is a dark, sheer fabric that drapes over my head. The fabric is tightly woven so it is difficult to make out distinct features or expressions on my face. I can see out more clearly than you can see in, but it is all still tinted a shade of gray. Every time I try to take a deep breath in, the veil forms a suction around my mouth or nose, and I find it hard to fill my lungs. I can't take a true deep breath, it is always filtered but his dark veil I don. Instead, I take short slow breaths to avoid the slightly suffocating affect of those deep breaths. In turn, I never feel as though I am truly able to release this tension that resides in my lungs. I feel tight chested. I feel trapped, almost panicked... waiting for the veil to be lifted so I can breath deep.
I feel as though I no longer wear this veil, but that it wears me, refusing to remove itself from me. It allows outsiders to see me, but not all of me. They can not see the tears of sorrow streaming down my face. They can only see the bold outline of my mouth, so the sorrow remains concealed, while the overt expressions are visible. They can only detect this sorrow if I allow it to show through frowns or furrowed brow. But I don't allow those expressions to be visible. Instead, I turn up the edges of my mouth in the illusion of a smile. They see the smile, but not the tears that continue to seep out of my distant eyes. They see what makes them feel comfortable... what I know makes them feel comfortable. I smile for them, but what I feel inside does not match that smile.
I have been doing this for years now. This veil has been my saving grace, my crutch, my weakness. I like the veil... and yet I can't seem to remove it when I want to. I am having a harder time letting go of it. At first it was like a security blanket. "If I look happy, then people will stop asking me if I am okay."
I completely understand why women in mourning used to wear veils. I completely understand.
When will I be done mourning? When will I stop being triggered by others' mindless comments? When will this veil stop feeling more like an extension of me than a garment I can actually remove?
I have been living in a dark, illusive place for some time. The past two years, since we have returned from Korea, have been the hardest two years of my life so far. I have fallen into this pit of emotions that are so thick, I feel as though someone has added another few layers of sheer fabric to my veil. It feels heavier, thicker, and less likely to go anywhere any time soon. I am slowly suffocating as I struggle to take in the air. My breaths have become shorter, fainter. There have been days I just wanted to stop trying. The effort it takes to truly breath and allow life giving oxygen to enter my body hurts. It is exhausting. I wonder how much longer I can manage before the veil forms a permanent suction against my face and slowly grafts into my skiing becoming a part of me forever. I want freedom.
I want freedom.
I need freedom.
LL
Done. Conversation over. I need wine, NOW.
In a span of five minutes, I went from discomfort, to beginning to enjoy myself, to recalling the worst day of my life. It wasn't his fault. How could he know? How could he know that I, in fact, DID run to my child's room after a too long nap and find him not breathing. He couldn't have known. I don't hold that against him. But I noticed immediately, that it set that evening up for "The Veil." "the Veil" is what I have come to refer to as my dark place in plain sight. I am hidden, but not completely. It is a state of feeling, but I can only describe it as a veil.
It is a dark, sheer fabric that drapes over my head. The fabric is tightly woven so it is difficult to make out distinct features or expressions on my face. I can see out more clearly than you can see in, but it is all still tinted a shade of gray. Every time I try to take a deep breath in, the veil forms a suction around my mouth or nose, and I find it hard to fill my lungs. I can't take a true deep breath, it is always filtered but his dark veil I don. Instead, I take short slow breaths to avoid the slightly suffocating affect of those deep breaths. In turn, I never feel as though I am truly able to release this tension that resides in my lungs. I feel tight chested. I feel trapped, almost panicked... waiting for the veil to be lifted so I can breath deep.
I feel as though I no longer wear this veil, but that it wears me, refusing to remove itself from me. It allows outsiders to see me, but not all of me. They can not see the tears of sorrow streaming down my face. They can only see the bold outline of my mouth, so the sorrow remains concealed, while the overt expressions are visible. They can only detect this sorrow if I allow it to show through frowns or furrowed brow. But I don't allow those expressions to be visible. Instead, I turn up the edges of my mouth in the illusion of a smile. They see the smile, but not the tears that continue to seep out of my distant eyes. They see what makes them feel comfortable... what I know makes them feel comfortable. I smile for them, but what I feel inside does not match that smile.
I have been doing this for years now. This veil has been my saving grace, my crutch, my weakness. I like the veil... and yet I can't seem to remove it when I want to. I am having a harder time letting go of it. At first it was like a security blanket. "If I look happy, then people will stop asking me if I am okay."
I completely understand why women in mourning used to wear veils. I completely understand.
When will I be done mourning? When will I stop being triggered by others' mindless comments? When will this veil stop feeling more like an extension of me than a garment I can actually remove?
I have been living in a dark, illusive place for some time. The past two years, since we have returned from Korea, have been the hardest two years of my life so far. I have fallen into this pit of emotions that are so thick, I feel as though someone has added another few layers of sheer fabric to my veil. It feels heavier, thicker, and less likely to go anywhere any time soon. I am slowly suffocating as I struggle to take in the air. My breaths have become shorter, fainter. There have been days I just wanted to stop trying. The effort it takes to truly breath and allow life giving oxygen to enter my body hurts. It is exhausting. I wonder how much longer I can manage before the veil forms a permanent suction against my face and slowly grafts into my skiing becoming a part of me forever. I want freedom.
I want freedom.
I need freedom.
LL
Friday, June 27, 2014
My filthy hiding place.
I stare at the floor. The room around me buzzing with the sound of scurrying feet and screaming voices. The boys are chasing one another again as I sit here in the rocking chair, rocking Lena. I have three kids. Well, three living kids.
My heart aches as I think there should be another little skittering set of feet in that game of chase. But then, my heart constantly aches these days. I find myself in this same blur of inactivity... just staring. I am empty. I feel there is no stirring in this heart of mine other than pangs of remembrance and pangs of recognition. Remembrance of Owen. Recognition of this void in my faithfulness. Where has my joy gone? Yes, I find joy in my family at times, but it is incomplete. It feels lacking. It is not the full joy intended by the One who gave me this family, this life. Yet... I know why this joy is lackluster. I know how to wipe away the blurry film that is clouding my vision. I just don't.
Why is it when I need God most (which by the way is always) I try to fend for myself before going to my Father for help? (Which by the way is ALWAYS) I have relied upon myself for far too long now and have in essence dug a hole that goes deep. It is dark in this hole. It is dark, damp and lonely. In a house full of kids who want nothing more than my undivided attention, I feel alone and unnecessary. I feel undesirable. I feel empty. I feel... but nothing I want to feel.
My head (AKA sinful flesh) plays tricks on me. "Lindsey, you don't need God. Just put on some upbeat music, have a cup of coffee, and spend a little time chatting online... THEN, you will feel better." Yes, head, you're right. I feel better... thanks. And then I stop doing those things and go back to that dark hole. I keep digging, with a dull spoon, through the hard stone and firmly packed clay. It is hard work, tiring work, unnecessary work. What is my goal? Where am I digging to? Wait. Don't I want to be going the other direction? My mind tells me no. My heart tells me yes... my mind usually wins.
I am a very logical person by nature. If you have ever come to me with a problem, I am very practical in the suggestions for resolving the matter. I like tangible things. I like to see results. I am not patient... Taylor can attest to this. I am the polar opposite of patient. There is something very gratifying in fixing things or finding a clever solution. It plays a beautiful melody to my prideful heart, and I am pretty sure this is the very reason I love creating things. Whether it is sewing, crocheting, cooking... you name it, if it is creating a useful product... I love it. Too much. It also make me feel as though I have power or control over the situation when I can fix it.
Here enlies my "hole." My mind is telling me to just keep trying solutions, bandaids if you will, for the way I am feeling. My heart tells me to cry out to God, but my mind continues to remind that prideful heart how good it feels to be the author of the solution. My pride has gone before my fall... and boy did I fall hard and deep. I can only see the Sonlight ever so often. The walls of my hole are pretty high above my head and block out most of the Light. These prideful walls that were created by my own hands. I don't feel very accomplished in this creation. I certainly didn't want to take a picture of these walls and post them on Facebook to brag about. Not like my other outward creations. But then, a picture wouldn't come close to showing the deep pains. The aching, longing, and yet reckless disregard. I know Who can fill this hole. I know Who can remove this prideful heart and nonsensical mind. I know. I just don't act. so... I sit. I this damp, dark, lonely hole. I have forgotten how to ask for help. I have forgotten to call out to those in the Light up there on solid ground. I have hit the shifting sands under the top layers of this earth and am along for the ride... I want out. I NEED out. I need help. Please pray for me. That the Light would reach me, warm me... and that I would remember how to truly seek out that help I so desperately need now.
I want to bury my sorrows and downtrodden feelings in that hole... not reside with them in it.
Lord, I know you hear me from this dark place I have created. I am alone... and longing for your warmth. I ask, Lord, that you would renew my joy. I am at a loss of words. You know my heart. You know my deepest darkest hours, thoughts, fears... You and You alone know how to minister to this heart of mine. So please, Lord, forgive me of my sins. Forgive me of my disregard and ignorance. Forgive me, O God the Father, and replace my sorrows with Joy. Replace my longing with Fulfillment. Replace my my wrongful thinking with Your thoughts, Your loving embrace is all I desire. Please, Lord, please create the change I can not. I can do nothing apart from you, Lord. I thank you for that, and ask all these things in Jesus' holy name. Amen.
LL
My heart aches as I think there should be another little skittering set of feet in that game of chase. But then, my heart constantly aches these days. I find myself in this same blur of inactivity... just staring. I am empty. I feel there is no stirring in this heart of mine other than pangs of remembrance and pangs of recognition. Remembrance of Owen. Recognition of this void in my faithfulness. Where has my joy gone? Yes, I find joy in my family at times, but it is incomplete. It feels lacking. It is not the full joy intended by the One who gave me this family, this life. Yet... I know why this joy is lackluster. I know how to wipe away the blurry film that is clouding my vision. I just don't.
Why is it when I need God most (which by the way is always) I try to fend for myself before going to my Father for help? (Which by the way is ALWAYS) I have relied upon myself for far too long now and have in essence dug a hole that goes deep. It is dark in this hole. It is dark, damp and lonely. In a house full of kids who want nothing more than my undivided attention, I feel alone and unnecessary. I feel undesirable. I feel empty. I feel... but nothing I want to feel.
My head (AKA sinful flesh) plays tricks on me. "Lindsey, you don't need God. Just put on some upbeat music, have a cup of coffee, and spend a little time chatting online... THEN, you will feel better." Yes, head, you're right. I feel better... thanks. And then I stop doing those things and go back to that dark hole. I keep digging, with a dull spoon, through the hard stone and firmly packed clay. It is hard work, tiring work, unnecessary work. What is my goal? Where am I digging to? Wait. Don't I want to be going the other direction? My mind tells me no. My heart tells me yes... my mind usually wins.
I am a very logical person by nature. If you have ever come to me with a problem, I am very practical in the suggestions for resolving the matter. I like tangible things. I like to see results. I am not patient... Taylor can attest to this. I am the polar opposite of patient. There is something very gratifying in fixing things or finding a clever solution. It plays a beautiful melody to my prideful heart, and I am pretty sure this is the very reason I love creating things. Whether it is sewing, crocheting, cooking... you name it, if it is creating a useful product... I love it. Too much. It also make me feel as though I have power or control over the situation when I can fix it.
Here enlies my "hole." My mind is telling me to just keep trying solutions, bandaids if you will, for the way I am feeling. My heart tells me to cry out to God, but my mind continues to remind that prideful heart how good it feels to be the author of the solution. My pride has gone before my fall... and boy did I fall hard and deep. I can only see the Sonlight ever so often. The walls of my hole are pretty high above my head and block out most of the Light. These prideful walls that were created by my own hands. I don't feel very accomplished in this creation. I certainly didn't want to take a picture of these walls and post them on Facebook to brag about. Not like my other outward creations. But then, a picture wouldn't come close to showing the deep pains. The aching, longing, and yet reckless disregard. I know Who can fill this hole. I know Who can remove this prideful heart and nonsensical mind. I know. I just don't act. so... I sit. I this damp, dark, lonely hole. I have forgotten how to ask for help. I have forgotten to call out to those in the Light up there on solid ground. I have hit the shifting sands under the top layers of this earth and am along for the ride... I want out. I NEED out. I need help. Please pray for me. That the Light would reach me, warm me... and that I would remember how to truly seek out that help I so desperately need now.
I want to bury my sorrows and downtrodden feelings in that hole... not reside with them in it.
Lord, I know you hear me from this dark place I have created. I am alone... and longing for your warmth. I ask, Lord, that you would renew my joy. I am at a loss of words. You know my heart. You know my deepest darkest hours, thoughts, fears... You and You alone know how to minister to this heart of mine. So please, Lord, forgive me of my sins. Forgive me of my disregard and ignorance. Forgive me, O God the Father, and replace my sorrows with Joy. Replace my longing with Fulfillment. Replace my my wrongful thinking with Your thoughts, Your loving embrace is all I desire. Please, Lord, please create the change I can not. I can do nothing apart from you, Lord. I thank you for that, and ask all these things in Jesus' holy name. Amen.
LL
Friday, June 6, 2014
Long Time, No See
This weekend I was blessed with a visit from a very near and dear friend. We often get mistaken for sisters as we are built similarly, have the same curly hair, and we even mother our kids very similarly. It is a unique friendship. A friendship that now spans three generations. Our moms are great friends, we are great friends, our kids are great friends... well okay, Hank may not have won over any hearts this weekend with his rough and tumble ways, but give it a year or two. :)
I have known this sweet "sister" since high school. She actually was my "big sis" on drill team, and IS my sister in Christ, so the term is both entertaining and truthful. We joke about our 6 year olds one day being married to further solidify the bond between our families, but it wouldn't be necessary. She is in my heart always. I'll refer to her as K.
While spending time with my "sister," we had a very deeply needed conversation. I have been struggling with many unearthed emotions lately and yet, they have a way of uncontrollably leaving my lips when this cherished sister is near. I have no guard up with her. K has such a tender heart. She so patiently listened while I spewed out all my complaints, worries and frustrations.
I have been in a dry spell since moving back from Korea. I feel as though the rug was pulled out from under me when we got home. The church I thought we'd attend... we don't attend. The people I thought I'd spend the most time with... I hardly ever see. The place I thought we'd be living... we abandoned after only a few months. It was hard. I had a very difficult time being content with my lack of familiarity and simply adjusting to change. Change. Something that is constant... yet I CONSTANTLY have such opposition towards change. It makes for a very unhappy person when you cannot roll with the punches. I am a very unhappy person lately.
In talking with K, I described my difficulties in building relationships. How when I reach out to someone, that door seems to be slammed in my face. Either the other person is not motivated to pursue the friendship, they move away, or life is just too busy. In any case, my feelings have been hurt many a time these past couple of years as I try to build up a base of believing friends. It didn't dawn on me until the words came out of my mouth while talking to K, that perhaps God was pushing these "friendships" away from me so I would learn to rely on Him first and foremost for contentment, acceptance, and companionship. Two years. Two long, lonely years. I have struggled to feel accepted, to feel like I belong. All this time, God was trying to tell me I DON"T belong. This world is not what I should be chasing. These relationships are not what I should prioritize ahead of my most important relationship. The only relationship that will last through eternity and will not fade or pass with the passing of this world. The one relationship I was NOT pursuing.
There, I said it. I have been chasing selfish desires, but hose desires were not for the Lord. I had so quickly forgotten Who gives and Who takes. Who builds up and Who tears down. I had forgotten Who had made me to desire fellowship. I had forgotten. And so I pursued temporary joys again. And rooted my happiness in my present situation rather than in my eternal blessing and salvation. I was slowly sinking in my own selfish sorrows.
While K and I were talking, something she said stuck out to me. She said 'Here I was thinking I had mastered my emotions and that I was at peace, but the very next day, someone would talk about my struggle... or share their joy... and I would think "God, I really didn't learn my lesson, did I."' That was a scary thought for me.
Have I learned my lesson, God? I don;t think God always punishes us to teach us. In fact, many times answered prayers have brought me to tears as I reflect on just how intricately God had to orchestrate life for that to come about. I also think "punish" is not really a word we should ever use when talking about how God treats his children. He disciplines us, restores us, rebuilds us and reveals to us that our ways are so different from His. I KNOW the loss of Owen was not a punishment. But it is by far one of the biggest events in my life in which He has changed me.
Owen passed away at about 7 weeks old. Lena is almost 7 weeks old. It just hit home when K asked "Did I learn my lesson?"
Did I listen? Truly listen to what God is or was trying to teach me? Am I really changed?
I don't usually fear that God will take Lena to be with Him as He did for Owen, but I DO think about whether his death was in vain or not.
Was Owen's death in vain? No. Just the other day, a friend told me she was forever transformed by Owen's life and death. So maybe I was asking the wrong question... I was. But I was on the right track... it wasn't Owen's death that I was treating half-hazardly. It was Christ's. I was forgetting what Christ had done for me. How that impacted every moment of my life. Every relationship, every everything. I change nothing. I master nothing.
Here I was thinking that it was within my power to master my emotions and yet I was a hot mess. I thought I could create friendships, and yet I had essentially harvested only a very few.
Jeremiah 17:5 says "Cursed is one man who trusts in man, who depends on flesh for his strength and whose heart turns away from the Lord."
I DO feel cursed, but it was self-inflicted. I place the blame nowhere else. I place the healing that needs to happen only in one place... the feet of Jesus.
I have known this sweet "sister" since high school. She actually was my "big sis" on drill team, and IS my sister in Christ, so the term is both entertaining and truthful. We joke about our 6 year olds one day being married to further solidify the bond between our families, but it wouldn't be necessary. She is in my heart always. I'll refer to her as K.
While spending time with my "sister," we had a very deeply needed conversation. I have been struggling with many unearthed emotions lately and yet, they have a way of uncontrollably leaving my lips when this cherished sister is near. I have no guard up with her. K has such a tender heart. She so patiently listened while I spewed out all my complaints, worries and frustrations.
I have been in a dry spell since moving back from Korea. I feel as though the rug was pulled out from under me when we got home. The church I thought we'd attend... we don't attend. The people I thought I'd spend the most time with... I hardly ever see. The place I thought we'd be living... we abandoned after only a few months. It was hard. I had a very difficult time being content with my lack of familiarity and simply adjusting to change. Change. Something that is constant... yet I CONSTANTLY have such opposition towards change. It makes for a very unhappy person when you cannot roll with the punches. I am a very unhappy person lately.
In talking with K, I described my difficulties in building relationships. How when I reach out to someone, that door seems to be slammed in my face. Either the other person is not motivated to pursue the friendship, they move away, or life is just too busy. In any case, my feelings have been hurt many a time these past couple of years as I try to build up a base of believing friends. It didn't dawn on me until the words came out of my mouth while talking to K, that perhaps God was pushing these "friendships" away from me so I would learn to rely on Him first and foremost for contentment, acceptance, and companionship. Two years. Two long, lonely years. I have struggled to feel accepted, to feel like I belong. All this time, God was trying to tell me I DON"T belong. This world is not what I should be chasing. These relationships are not what I should prioritize ahead of my most important relationship. The only relationship that will last through eternity and will not fade or pass with the passing of this world. The one relationship I was NOT pursuing.
There, I said it. I have been chasing selfish desires, but hose desires were not for the Lord. I had so quickly forgotten Who gives and Who takes. Who builds up and Who tears down. I had forgotten Who had made me to desire fellowship. I had forgotten. And so I pursued temporary joys again. And rooted my happiness in my present situation rather than in my eternal blessing and salvation. I was slowly sinking in my own selfish sorrows.
While K and I were talking, something she said stuck out to me. She said 'Here I was thinking I had mastered my emotions and that I was at peace, but the very next day, someone would talk about my struggle... or share their joy... and I would think "God, I really didn't learn my lesson, did I."' That was a scary thought for me.
Have I learned my lesson, God? I don;t think God always punishes us to teach us. In fact, many times answered prayers have brought me to tears as I reflect on just how intricately God had to orchestrate life for that to come about. I also think "punish" is not really a word we should ever use when talking about how God treats his children. He disciplines us, restores us, rebuilds us and reveals to us that our ways are so different from His. I KNOW the loss of Owen was not a punishment. But it is by far one of the biggest events in my life in which He has changed me.
Owen passed away at about 7 weeks old. Lena is almost 7 weeks old. It just hit home when K asked "Did I learn my lesson?"
Did I listen? Truly listen to what God is or was trying to teach me? Am I really changed?
I don't usually fear that God will take Lena to be with Him as He did for Owen, but I DO think about whether his death was in vain or not.
Was Owen's death in vain? No. Just the other day, a friend told me she was forever transformed by Owen's life and death. So maybe I was asking the wrong question... I was. But I was on the right track... it wasn't Owen's death that I was treating half-hazardly. It was Christ's. I was forgetting what Christ had done for me. How that impacted every moment of my life. Every relationship, every everything. I change nothing. I master nothing.
Here I was thinking that it was within my power to master my emotions and yet I was a hot mess. I thought I could create friendships, and yet I had essentially harvested only a very few.
Jeremiah 17:5 says "Cursed is one man who trusts in man, who depends on flesh for his strength and whose heart turns away from the Lord."
I DO feel cursed, but it was self-inflicted. I place the blame nowhere else. I place the healing that needs to happen only in one place... the feet of Jesus.
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