So, what is this feeling? Why is it I keep explaining the same thing to myself over and over again? Why do I care what somebody else thinks; and if he's okay? What about me; what about how I feel? Then I begin to understand. My soul doesn't care about all that. It doesn't matter how many times I explain it, or how rational my mind puts the words. All my soul knows is that I miss him. I miss our friendship and I'm grieving. Nothing else seems to matter to my heart. My soul is grieving.
The questions about trust and how I could ever bring myself to trust this person and keep my self-respect just don't matter to my heart. All my heart can think about is that I had a friend and now I don't. I had what felt like love and relationship and camaraderie and companionship and now there's no one to call when I get off work to talk about my day. There's no one to vent to when things are going wrong. I've lost my sounding board. I can no longer get advice from him. But how can I trust him when he knew what I needed in our relationship and kept pushing the envelope until he got what he wanted--again. I need my self respect and I have every right to expect that from a man who claims to be a Christian, a man of God.
I miss our conversations. I miss our friendship. I miss his kindness. Sigh, I miss spending time with him. My soul is grieving, knowing I have to let him go.
I am grateful for this revelation. I'm grateful for the kindness I'm showing myself by not making any large decisions knowing that I'm grieving. I'm grateful for the patience that I seem to have with myself. It wasn't always that way.
Sunday, November 26, 2017
Tuesday, September 12, 2017
Baby Spiders
This past weekend, I attend a women's retreat in Roslyn, Virginia. Several ladies from my church and I board a bus at 6:00 in the morning to arrive early after stopping for breakfast. During the day I spend a majority of the free time with a friend I'll call Phyllis (not her name). After checking into our rooms, we both discover that neither of us have a roommate. We both think this is odd, most of the other participants are paired up. But, we don't spend too much time fretting over it. The sessions for this first of two days are wonderful. The tears are flowing as well as the hallelujahs. By the end of the evening, everyone is ready to get some rest. Phyllis tells me, "I'm going to take a hot bath and go to bed," just before we split up. It's well after 9:00 pm. Soon the conversations fade and everyone walks towards the rooms.
In most hotel rooms you have two beds and a double lamp mounted on the wall between them. This place is no different. I chose the bed on the left, closest to the window, to sleep in for the night. So, I head to the mounted lamp and turn it one click. The lamp to the right lights up. I turn it the second click, which turns the left lamp on and the right one off. The light of the left lamp illuminates a bunch of small baby spiders all over it! They are so tiny they were invisible to me until the light came on. "Oh, brother," I think, "I'll get one of the wash clothes and rub them all out with it." It doesn't take me too long to get perturbed at the staff of the establishment for not finding them and killing them before I arrived. Let me just call the front desk. They can come over here with some bug spray at least.
The phone is dead. I press every button on the phone trying to get a dial tone. Nothing! This is where the panic starts to set in. I check the connections; it's all plugged in. I pick up the receiver one more time to no avail. "Oh my God! Everyone's tired, how am I going to get any help? What if those spiders are in my bed!? They could be everywhere. You can barely see the little suckers. ... I CAN'T STAY HERE!!"
I drop everything and go outside my room. I can hear what sounds like the first lady of my church's voice. I run up the stairs and knock on her door. Someone else answers the door. After telling her my dilemma, she explains that the first lady is in the bathroom. I wait there for what seems like forever because I'm so panicked at this point. I decide to see if I can contact Phyllis on the phone. I can't call her directly; I don't have her number. What was her room number, 61? I run off and head to the other building next to me. I'm sure she's in that one.
A locked door meets me. Oh my God! You're kidding me! I pound on the door, hoping to get somebody to open it. Eventually someone does open the door to their room, not Phyllis. She tells me which room Phyllis is in and I go over and knock on the door. "Just say who it is and knock loudly," she encourages me as she goes back into her room.
My heart is pounding now. I can't stay in a room swarmed with spiders. They won't be crawling on me in my sleep! I'm moving in with Phyllis since no one from the retreat staff can be reached. All this is running through my mind as I knock on Phyllis' door, over and over again. She's not answering at all. I can't even hear anyone inside. "Has she already gotten in the tub? That's why it's taking her so long to answer the door." That comforting thought only lasted twenty seconds. I banged on the door and announced myself, trying not to be loud enough to disturb the other occupants. I looked through the keyhole. She's in there! I can see lights on. Why won't she come to the door?
I'm desperate now! It feels like a trap: no dial tone, no way to get another room assignment this late, nobody wants to answer the door! "Oh God, are You really going to make me go back and sleep with those spiders?" I whine.
Suddenly I get a GREAT idea. Send her a Facebook message! She's been posting pictures on there all day. Surely she'll see that. So I leave this message on her wall: "Phyllis, please help. There are spiders in my room. Please answer your door!"
By now I'm tired. All the heightened emotion of the day and now freaking out over these spiders has left me feeling emotionally drained as well as just tired! We were on a bus at six in the morning. I just want to relax. But with the spiders? "Are You really gonna make me sleep with them spiders, God?"
I start down the stairs away from Phyllis' door. "She just don't want to give up having a room to herself, " I think. "I'm stuck with this problem and I'm on my own." I get to the outer door and look back again, hoping to see Phyllis crack open the door to see whose the mad woman that's been pounding on it. I check my phone to see it she responded to my message. By now everything is quiet.
Well, you're just gonna have to pull on your big girl panties and deal with this. I'm tired. I need some rest before tomorrow. I look back one last time to see the same closed door, turn, and head across the grass to my building.
I get back in the room and start to deal with these baby spiders. Psalm 91:2 comes to mind. I start quoting what I can remember, "I will say of the Lord, He is my ... what was that? He is my fortress and my refuge ...." I'll have to look that up tonight! Really, these spiders are so small. They are not jumping out of the way, so they are easily killed with the wash cloth or my finger. They are crawling around on the cloth, so I rub it together and that is it. I take the thing and put it in a sink full of hot water to make sure they are all dead.
Now for the bed. I feel a LOT better after pulling the sheets all the way back and seeing that there are no spiders there! They seem to be localized around the two lamps. I assume the mother lay those eggs and is long dead. There's no sign of her.
"Look at that," I say out loud, "You were about to give up your blessing over some tiny baby spiders! Got a room to yourself, a bathroom to yourself, can get up when you please, nobody to keep you up making noise." I am rather pleased with myself. I find the extra blanket and pillow in the closet, check it real good for spiders, and relax in a chair with my feet up. The next few minutes are spent looking up Psalm 91, thinking about the day's messages, and scrolling social media.
A full forty minutes later, my friend responds to my Facebook message. She was in the bathtub and wants to know if everything is OK. "Ha! Now you respond?" I decide to keep my answer short: "I freaked out for a moment. I'm better now. See you in the morning."
Now how are we going to keep this from being weird in the morning? She had to hear me knocking all that time. Help me, Lord. Things are going so well, minus this hiccup with the room. No drama!
After winding down from all the freaking out, I finally climb into bed. Every little itch, at first, I look and see what's happening. I fight to keep my cool for a bit. I sleep well though. The next morning I'm greeted with the question, "Did you survive the spiders?" from two women who must've seen my Facebook post. We all crack up laughing.
Eventually I see Phyllis. She says good morning and offers an apology. I respond, but the tone of my voice betrays my heart. I do not want to let her off the "hook" right away. We continue in separate directions, but soon meet in the dining room. I make a point to sit with her and the two who greeted me upon leaving my building. I feel awkward. I have to smooth this over. I don't want drama. So, I offer part of the whole story, mention how it was grace that the spiders were so small and not jumping around. "God knew I couldn't handle that!" We all share a laugh. By the time the meal is over I add, "You know, I have a funny story I can tell into my old age." And that's exactly what I plan to do!
In most hotel rooms you have two beds and a double lamp mounted on the wall between them. This place is no different. I chose the bed on the left, closest to the window, to sleep in for the night. So, I head to the mounted lamp and turn it one click. The lamp to the right lights up. I turn it the second click, which turns the left lamp on and the right one off. The light of the left lamp illuminates a bunch of small baby spiders all over it! They are so tiny they were invisible to me until the light came on. "Oh, brother," I think, "I'll get one of the wash clothes and rub them all out with it." It doesn't take me too long to get perturbed at the staff of the establishment for not finding them and killing them before I arrived. Let me just call the front desk. They can come over here with some bug spray at least.
The phone is dead. I press every button on the phone trying to get a dial tone. Nothing! This is where the panic starts to set in. I check the connections; it's all plugged in. I pick up the receiver one more time to no avail. "Oh my God! Everyone's tired, how am I going to get any help? What if those spiders are in my bed!? They could be everywhere. You can barely see the little suckers. ... I CAN'T STAY HERE!!"
I drop everything and go outside my room. I can hear what sounds like the first lady of my church's voice. I run up the stairs and knock on her door. Someone else answers the door. After telling her my dilemma, she explains that the first lady is in the bathroom. I wait there for what seems like forever because I'm so panicked at this point. I decide to see if I can contact Phyllis on the phone. I can't call her directly; I don't have her number. What was her room number, 61? I run off and head to the other building next to me. I'm sure she's in that one.
A locked door meets me. Oh my God! You're kidding me! I pound on the door, hoping to get somebody to open it. Eventually someone does open the door to their room, not Phyllis. She tells me which room Phyllis is in and I go over and knock on the door. "Just say who it is and knock loudly," she encourages me as she goes back into her room.
My heart is pounding now. I can't stay in a room swarmed with spiders. They won't be crawling on me in my sleep! I'm moving in with Phyllis since no one from the retreat staff can be reached. All this is running through my mind as I knock on Phyllis' door, over and over again. She's not answering at all. I can't even hear anyone inside. "Has she already gotten in the tub? That's why it's taking her so long to answer the door." That comforting thought only lasted twenty seconds. I banged on the door and announced myself, trying not to be loud enough to disturb the other occupants. I looked through the keyhole. She's in there! I can see lights on. Why won't she come to the door?
I'm desperate now! It feels like a trap: no dial tone, no way to get another room assignment this late, nobody wants to answer the door! "Oh God, are You really going to make me go back and sleep with those spiders?" I whine.
Suddenly I get a GREAT idea. Send her a Facebook message! She's been posting pictures on there all day. Surely she'll see that. So I leave this message on her wall: "Phyllis, please help. There are spiders in my room. Please answer your door!"
By now I'm tired. All the heightened emotion of the day and now freaking out over these spiders has left me feeling emotionally drained as well as just tired! We were on a bus at six in the morning. I just want to relax. But with the spiders? "Are You really gonna make me sleep with them spiders, God?"
I start down the stairs away from Phyllis' door. "She just don't want to give up having a room to herself, " I think. "I'm stuck with this problem and I'm on my own." I get to the outer door and look back again, hoping to see Phyllis crack open the door to see whose the mad woman that's been pounding on it. I check my phone to see it she responded to my message. By now everything is quiet.
Well, you're just gonna have to pull on your big girl panties and deal with this. I'm tired. I need some rest before tomorrow. I look back one last time to see the same closed door, turn, and head across the grass to my building.
I get back in the room and start to deal with these baby spiders. Psalm 91:2 comes to mind. I start quoting what I can remember, "I will say of the Lord, He is my ... what was that? He is my fortress and my refuge ...." I'll have to look that up tonight! Really, these spiders are so small. They are not jumping out of the way, so they are easily killed with the wash cloth or my finger. They are crawling around on the cloth, so I rub it together and that is it. I take the thing and put it in a sink full of hot water to make sure they are all dead.
Now for the bed. I feel a LOT better after pulling the sheets all the way back and seeing that there are no spiders there! They seem to be localized around the two lamps. I assume the mother lay those eggs and is long dead. There's no sign of her.
"Look at that," I say out loud, "You were about to give up your blessing over some tiny baby spiders! Got a room to yourself, a bathroom to yourself, can get up when you please, nobody to keep you up making noise." I am rather pleased with myself. I find the extra blanket and pillow in the closet, check it real good for spiders, and relax in a chair with my feet up. The next few minutes are spent looking up Psalm 91, thinking about the day's messages, and scrolling social media.
A full forty minutes later, my friend responds to my Facebook message. She was in the bathtub and wants to know if everything is OK. "Ha! Now you respond?" I decide to keep my answer short: "I freaked out for a moment. I'm better now. See you in the morning."
Now how are we going to keep this from being weird in the morning? She had to hear me knocking all that time. Help me, Lord. Things are going so well, minus this hiccup with the room. No drama!
After winding down from all the freaking out, I finally climb into bed. Every little itch, at first, I look and see what's happening. I fight to keep my cool for a bit. I sleep well though. The next morning I'm greeted with the question, "Did you survive the spiders?" from two women who must've seen my Facebook post. We all crack up laughing.
Eventually I see Phyllis. She says good morning and offers an apology. I respond, but the tone of my voice betrays my heart. I do not want to let her off the "hook" right away. We continue in separate directions, but soon meet in the dining room. I make a point to sit with her and the two who greeted me upon leaving my building. I feel awkward. I have to smooth this over. I don't want drama. So, I offer part of the whole story, mention how it was grace that the spiders were so small and not jumping around. "God knew I couldn't handle that!" We all share a laugh. By the time the meal is over I add, "You know, I have a funny story I can tell into my old age." And that's exactly what I plan to do!
Thursday, February 9, 2017
Seeds Sprouting Up
Isaiah 55 is a wonderful encouragement. You may want to take half an
hour or so to meditate on it verse by verse some time. My focus in this
note rests with the last verse of the chapter, verse 13:
Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;
Instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle;
and it shall make a name for the Lord,
an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.
All seeds produce after their own kind, right? Genesis 1:11-12 gives us the pattern that all seeds bear according to their own kind. In matters of the heart Jesus said, “The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil.” (Matt. 12:35) In both the natural and spiritual realms we see reproduction after its own kind without exception.
Yet when it comes to the glory of our Lord, we witness the miracle of God overturning this law through his word. When would you ever expect to plant a thorn bush and get a pine tree? Can you imagine transplanting a brier into your yard and beholding a myrtle tree in its place? Of course not, but this is precisely what God proclaims in this verse.
Think about the change. Thorns and briers are not lovely. They hurt. Falling into a brier patch has caused more than a little swearing and hours of discomfort. Thorns cruelly pierced our Savior as he paid the price for our sin, sealing their association with what is wrong with the world (Jer. 17:5, 6). In contrast we have the cypress, or pine tree. It is strong, fragrant, and useful for building homes and beautiful furniture. The myrtle sports thousands of delicate flowers in white, pink, or lavender bringing beauty to any setting.
Instead of an ugly shrub we get trees. Now there are several places in Scripture that use trees as an analogy for the righteous:
And he shall be like a tree firmly planted [and tended] by the streams of water, ready to bring forth its fruit in its season; its leaf also shall not fade or wither; and everything he does shall prosper [and come to maturity]. – Psalm 1:3 TAB
But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit. – Jer. 17:7, 8 NIV
And the best one, found in the same book of the Bible:
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified. – Isaiah 61:3 KJV
The ESV, NIV, and TAB use the phrase ‘oaks of righteousness’ but all versions are clear as to who planted and who is to be glorified for the transformation!
That brings us back to the latter part of Isaiah 55:13. The word ‘name’ is shêm in Hebrew and means an appellation, as a mark or memorial of individuality; by implication honor, authority, character, [in] fame [-ous], or renown. The word ‘sign’ is ōth and it means a signal (lit. or fig.), as a flag, beacon, monument, omen, prodigy, evidence, etc.:--mark, miracle, (en-) sign, or token. How exciting to think of a miraculous, wonder inspiring switch in our lives and hearts that would be a mark of God’s character, to make him famous or infamous—depending on the crowd!
So do you, like me, see thorns and briers in your heart—sin that’s unlovely and painful to you and others? Perhaps there’s a passage of Scripture that you want to obey, but find the challenge overwhelming. This verse gives great hope to the one who cannot see an end to struggling for freedom and change. Instead of despairing, pray for God to change the seeds, to bring forth useful, fragrant, and beautiful trees where only prickly stuff has been in the past. “Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it.” (1 Thes. 5:23, 24)
____________________
All Scripture references came from the ESV unless otherwise stated. Hebrew definitions are taken from Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance. Originally posted on Facebook on Sept. 10, 2011
Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;
Instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle;
and it shall make a name for the Lord,
an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off.
All seeds produce after their own kind, right? Genesis 1:11-12 gives us the pattern that all seeds bear according to their own kind. In matters of the heart Jesus said, “The good person out of his good treasure brings forth good, and the evil person out of his evil treasure brings forth evil.” (Matt. 12:35) In both the natural and spiritual realms we see reproduction after its own kind without exception.
Yet when it comes to the glory of our Lord, we witness the miracle of God overturning this law through his word. When would you ever expect to plant a thorn bush and get a pine tree? Can you imagine transplanting a brier into your yard and beholding a myrtle tree in its place? Of course not, but this is precisely what God proclaims in this verse.
Think about the change. Thorns and briers are not lovely. They hurt. Falling into a brier patch has caused more than a little swearing and hours of discomfort. Thorns cruelly pierced our Savior as he paid the price for our sin, sealing their association with what is wrong with the world (Jer. 17:5, 6). In contrast we have the cypress, or pine tree. It is strong, fragrant, and useful for building homes and beautiful furniture. The myrtle sports thousands of delicate flowers in white, pink, or lavender bringing beauty to any setting.
Instead of an ugly shrub we get trees. Now there are several places in Scripture that use trees as an analogy for the righteous:
And he shall be like a tree firmly planted [and tended] by the streams of water, ready to bring forth its fruit in its season; its leaf also shall not fade or wither; and everything he does shall prosper [and come to maturity]. – Psalm 1:3 TAB
But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him. He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream. It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green. It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit. – Jer. 17:7, 8 NIV
And the best one, found in the same book of the Bible:
To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he might be glorified. – Isaiah 61:3 KJV
The ESV, NIV, and TAB use the phrase ‘oaks of righteousness’ but all versions are clear as to who planted and who is to be glorified for the transformation!
That brings us back to the latter part of Isaiah 55:13. The word ‘name’ is shêm in Hebrew and means an appellation, as a mark or memorial of individuality; by implication honor, authority, character, [in] fame [-ous], or renown. The word ‘sign’ is ōth and it means a signal (lit. or fig.), as a flag, beacon, monument, omen, prodigy, evidence, etc.:--mark, miracle, (en-) sign, or token. How exciting to think of a miraculous, wonder inspiring switch in our lives and hearts that would be a mark of God’s character, to make him famous or infamous—depending on the crowd!
So do you, like me, see thorns and briers in your heart—sin that’s unlovely and painful to you and others? Perhaps there’s a passage of Scripture that you want to obey, but find the challenge overwhelming. This verse gives great hope to the one who cannot see an end to struggling for freedom and change. Instead of despairing, pray for God to change the seeds, to bring forth useful, fragrant, and beautiful trees where only prickly stuff has been in the past. “Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it.” (1 Thes. 5:23, 24)
____________________
All Scripture references came from the ESV unless otherwise stated. Hebrew definitions are taken from Strong’s Exhaustive Concordance. Originally posted on Facebook on Sept. 10, 2011
Sunday, January 8, 2017
The Comfort of my Father
Though I grieve over the thought of finally losing my mother, I rejoice
in the fact that someday in heaven I will know her. I will know my
mother as the woman she could have been to me, without her insecurities, without sin. And though I will have to wait for that time, I take great
comfort in knowing that that time will last so much longer then this
little bit of time I've known her on Earth. We will be together and we
will know one another without sin and without the influence of this
world, without the negativity, for all eternity. That gives me great
joy. Great joy!
1 Thessalonians 4:13b "...so you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope."
My sweet mother has Alzheimer's disease. In several ways she is no longer the person she used to be already. That brought on some mourning of her lost self. Today, however, I found myself mourning her ultimate departure from this life. It was hard to accept. The above word of encouragement and comfort came to me from the Lord in my tears to comfort my soul and give me hope. I'm sharing them as they may be a gift to someone else as well.
1 Thessalonians 4:13b "...so you do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope."
My sweet mother has Alzheimer's disease. In several ways she is no longer the person she used to be already. That brought on some mourning of her lost self. Today, however, I found myself mourning her ultimate departure from this life. It was hard to accept. The above word of encouragement and comfort came to me from the Lord in my tears to comfort my soul and give me hope. I'm sharing them as they may be a gift to someone else as well.
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