Lately I have been thinking a lot about the old adage, "God doesn't give us any more than we can handle". I have heard this motto, spoken as words of support, from various people across my life, and as I have reflected on my experiences, all of the ups and downs, I am beginning to really question its validity. I shared some of my story, some of the abuse I survived and my journey toward healing, in a previous post. I have also mentioned here in this blog, scares and struggles with my children, deaths of loved ones, and other difficulties. I don't think I have ever mentioned the late first trimester miscarriage that I had in 2004 and our subsequent difficulties conceiving a child, which was one of the most heart-wrenching and trying experiences of my life. I will also note that recently I have had some health issues that caused me a great deal of concern. I will spare you the details, but I have been having some problems that indicated a biopsy of my endometrium. After an anxious few days, it was determined that the "BIG C" is not an issue and that I likely have a disease with a long million dollar name that basically means that my uterus does not work well anymore. I am not out of the woods as of yet, and I may need surgery at some point, but I am so grateful to God that I do not have cancer! All of these things have led me to wonder if God doesn't give us any more than we can handle than what in the world is going on here? I try hard not to be a "why me" person. I don't particularly like those people. A girl can wonder a little sometimes though, right? I wouldn't necessarily call that sin.
I ask sincerely and innocently, from where, exactly, did this statement about God originate? Is it in The Bible somewhere? If it is, I have not found it. If anyone knows and can send me a reference that would be awesome. I think the biggest problem I have with this statement is that it sort of implies then that God gives us bad stuff. That God makes people abuse us; that He causes illness; that He endorses crimes against us; that He gives us pain and suffering. That is not the loving and merciful God that I know and I hope and pray that it is not the image of God that any of you have right now. To me, the aforementioned things are all things of this world. They are earthly life experiences, created and perpetuated by humans and by the enemy in order to try to defeat us. Sure we could argue that if we believe that God created everything then He also created cancer. I'm still on the fence about that one. Part of me feels like cancer and some other diseases are the products of the "modern world" full of chemicals and other man-made nastiness, but I digress. I think, however, that we can probably all agree that God never created anyone to be a rapist or a murderer - that those acts are not of God. Here's the crazy paradox, though (and as Christ-followers there are a lot of these crazy paradoxes that we learn to live with by faith that maybe - or even maybe not - we might some day understand it all): God is powerful enough to stop us from experiencing these things. He is powerful enough to heal us from whatever it is that ails us, be it physical or psychological.............and He does. All of the time! Does He prevent bad things from happening? Yes, He sometimes does. Really, though, sometimes, or I would even venture to say that all of the time, our worst experiences, our greatest pain, can be our biggest victory. God uses it all to make us better. God uses it all to make others better. He uses life experiences to chisel away at our rough spots. It is not God's objective to make us happy. It is God's objective to make us holy, more like Him, so that one day we will be ready to spend eternity with Him. And the cool thing is that once we realize all of this - once we realize that we are not meant for this world - we become happy!
So no, I can honestly say that I don't really believe the statement, "God doesn't give us any more than we can handle". He does allow overwhelming stuff to happen. What brings me comfort, though, is that He can handle it and He won't let us fight through life alone. He walks with us every single step of the way and He puts people in our life that will walk with us through it all too. We just have to believe and allow it.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Fall-Fabulous Eats!
So after my INTENSE last post, I thought I should probably lighten things up a bit and talk food. My family loves food, especially desserts! As I've mentioned before, Madelynn and I have been experimenting with cooking and baking. Our favorite thing to bake is cupcakes and we are always searching for new recipes to finesse and make our own. I absolutely love spending time with her in the kitchen! Those are memories that I will cherish forever and I hope she does as well.
Last Friday, we decided to bring a little Fall into our kitchen and try out a recipe I found on Pinterest for Pumpkin Cupcakes with Cinnamon Cream Cheese Icing. We played with the ingredients a bit to make it our own and Oooooh are they fabulous! They were a hit at our small group meeting and they are quickly disappearing here at home. Here's our recipe:
Cake:
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
2 1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ginger
1/2 tsp nutmeg
2 sticks unsalted butter softened
1 cup white granulated sugar
1 cup light brown sugar
4 eggs
1 cup milk
1 1/2ish cups pumpkin puree
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line muffin pans with cupcake liners (for ours we used super cute Charlie Brown Great Pumpkin liners that I found at Michael's craft store). Combine all dry ingredients (including spices) in a medium bowl and set aside. Cream together butter and both sugars. Add eggs one at a time. Gradually add dry ingredients and milk (I add a little dry, little milk, little dry, etc. until both were gone). Mix with hand mixer on medium speed until well incorporated. Add in pumpkin and mix until smooth. Fill liners 2/3 full and bake for about 18 minutes until toothpick inserted in the center of one cupcake comes out clean. Allow to cool in pan 5 minutes then move to wire cooling rack to cool completely.
Icing:
1 1/2 sticks butter softened
8 oz cream cheese softened
4 cups confectioner's sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp cinnamon
Beat butter and cream cheese together until well incorporated. Gradually add in sugar. Mix in vanilla and cinnamon. Beat until smooth and creamy. Ice cupcakes. This icing pipes really well. Because I have not invested in fancy piping bags and such, I just fill a gallon size plastic storage bag, snip a bit off one of the bottom corners, and pipe the icing onto the cupcakes with that. I think it still comes out pretty!
After we piped on the icing we added on cute jack-o-lantern decorative picks that we found at Wal-Mart. Voila! Fabulous pumpkin cupcakes with cinnamon cream cheese icing! I love how you can see the flecks of cinnamon in the icing. The cake was very moist and tasted like lighter, slightly sweeter pumpkin bread and the icing was just sweet enough, with a subtle cinnamon taste. If you are a cinnamon lover, you could probably add a bit more to the icing without overpowering the cake. This recipes makes around 30 cupcakes.
Bon appetite and happy Fall, with love from our kitchen to yours,
Madelynn & Erin
Last Friday, we decided to bring a little Fall into our kitchen and try out a recipe I found on Pinterest for Pumpkin Cupcakes with Cinnamon Cream Cheese Icing. We played with the ingredients a bit to make it our own and Oooooh are they fabulous! They were a hit at our small group meeting and they are quickly disappearing here at home. Here's our recipe:
Cake:
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
2 1/2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ginger
1/2 tsp nutmeg
2 sticks unsalted butter softened
1 cup white granulated sugar
1 cup light brown sugar
4 eggs
1 cup milk
1 1/2ish cups pumpkin puree
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line muffin pans with cupcake liners (for ours we used super cute Charlie Brown Great Pumpkin liners that I found at Michael's craft store). Combine all dry ingredients (including spices) in a medium bowl and set aside. Cream together butter and both sugars. Add eggs one at a time. Gradually add dry ingredients and milk (I add a little dry, little milk, little dry, etc. until both were gone). Mix with hand mixer on medium speed until well incorporated. Add in pumpkin and mix until smooth. Fill liners 2/3 full and bake for about 18 minutes until toothpick inserted in the center of one cupcake comes out clean. Allow to cool in pan 5 minutes then move to wire cooling rack to cool completely.
Icing:
1 1/2 sticks butter softened
8 oz cream cheese softened
4 cups confectioner's sugar
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp cinnamon
Beat butter and cream cheese together until well incorporated. Gradually add in sugar. Mix in vanilla and cinnamon. Beat until smooth and creamy. Ice cupcakes. This icing pipes really well. Because I have not invested in fancy piping bags and such, I just fill a gallon size plastic storage bag, snip a bit off one of the bottom corners, and pipe the icing onto the cupcakes with that. I think it still comes out pretty!
After we piped on the icing we added on cute jack-o-lantern decorative picks that we found at Wal-Mart. Voila! Fabulous pumpkin cupcakes with cinnamon cream cheese icing! I love how you can see the flecks of cinnamon in the icing. The cake was very moist and tasted like lighter, slightly sweeter pumpkin bread and the icing was just sweet enough, with a subtle cinnamon taste. If you are a cinnamon lover, you could probably add a bit more to the icing without overpowering the cake. This recipes makes around 30 cupcakes.
Bon appetite and happy Fall, with love from our kitchen to yours,
Madelynn & Erin
Thursday, October 25, 2012
Learning to Forgive
Alright
y’all, bear with me because this might be a little long and it definitely could
be triggering for some people. Please
read with caution and if you need support or have questions during or
afterwards, please don’t hesitate to contact me or someone else who may be a
support to you.
If someone had asked me a few months ago if I was a forgiving person I would have definitely and adamantly replied in the affirmative. I used to believe that forgiving came easy to me, and I have actually been told that I may be a little “too forgiving”. Lately, however, I have been feeling God clearly speak to me – challenge me really – about forgiveness. I have been flooded by beautiful messages, sermons, songs, Scriptures, books, and discussions focusing on, or referencing forgiveness. I have felt an almost incessant tugging on my heart, showing me the dark, heavy areas where I still carry anger, pain, and bitterness – unforgiveness.
And so, I have begun a process, asking for God’s help in releasing the anger and the pain, and helping me to move toward further healing and forgiveness. For me, it is about trusting that God is good and that He wants greater things for me; trusting in His plan for my life, not the image of a perfect life that I have created in my head. In this process I have been doing a lot of praying, a lot of seeking support, and a lot of reading. I have discovered that in order for me to move on I have to do two major things. The first is that I have to actually own my feelings and the cause(s) for those feelings – all of the hurt, pain, anger, guilt, and regret – and I have to be willing to openly discuss them, especially with those who might help me or with those who might be blessed in some way through them. The second is that I have to fully understand and grab hold of what it means to forgive – all of the whys, whats, hows, whens, etc.
So, for the first part, though I feel a bit – OK a lot – of discomfort in the pit of my stomach as I prepare to compose this section, I feel compelled to share a bit of my story, which is becoming part of my testimony. I was raped when I was 15 years old. There. I said it. I was dating a 19 year-old “good Catholic boy” from a “good Catholic family” at the time (anyone see a small problem here already? Not the Catholic part but the 19 year-old guy when I was 15 part?) I was raised in a Catholic family, though I wouldn’t necessarily call us incredibly devout. I went to Catholic schools from second through seventh grade, until we moved to SC when I was in the eighth grade. Because of my dad’s work situation, we moved around quite a bit when I was a kid. As you can imagine, going from private to public school, in the eighth grade, in an entirely different state no less, was very hard on me. I had some difficulty making friends and I found myself feeling pretty depressed and making stupid decisions. In ninth grade, I had a class with the aforementioned fella. We talked and flirted quite a bit and I discovered that he had a job at a local grocery store. One day, while my mom was shopping, she passed my phone number to him and encouraged him to call me. Later that week, he did just that, and with my parents’ OK we set up a date for a week or so later – my first date ever. After about a month or so of dating, we set up a “double date” with his friend, also 19 and in college, and his friend’s girlfriend, neither of whom I had ever met. I thought we were going out to dinner somewhere, but soon learned we were going to this friend’s house. The others started drinking beer. I was offered one but refused as I had not gotten into the drinking scene as of yet and didn’t want to then. Awhile later the guys took us back to a bedroom on the promise of showing us an awesome collection of baseball memorabilia (I was a naïve 15 year-old girl and I happened to love baseball). It was there that my date raped me, on the floor of that room, while his friend and the other girl were doing their own thing right there on the bed. It wasn’t the rape you see in movies. There was no violence or screaming, but I was clearly saying “no” and he was clearly ignoring me. I know that the other couple knew what was happening and I have recently realized that I have been holding onto anger toward them as well.
Afterwards, he drove me home in awkward silence. I was in a state of shock. I hardly remember the drive home. The thought to get as far away from him as quickly as possible didn’t even cross my mind. At my house, he didn’t walk me to the door as he had on previous dates. As I numbly climbed out of his car, he said with faux sweetness, “hey that was fun. Let’s not talk about this OK?” I vaguely remember nodding. He sped away as I went inside and said a brief hello to my parents, then immediately took a scalding hot shower, scrubbing every square inch of my skin until it was red, and went to bed. I never heard from him again and I avoided the grocery store where he worked, as well as any other place that I might accidentally run into him.
That night changed my life. I became severely depressed, though I was very skilled at hiding it. I covered my pain with alcohol, cutting (though this was sort of an unknown phenomenon at the time), and other destructive behaviors. I have no idea how my parents didn’t recognize it. Maybe they did and were too scared or hurt to ask questions. I know they just wanted me to be happy and to fit in.
It wasn’t long after that, desperate for male attention, I got into a relationship with another guy. I was still 15 when I met him and he was almost 17. This relationship was unhealthy almost from the start. It quickly turned into verbal, emotional, sexual, and physical abuse. I was called awful names, threatened, sexually assaulted, locked in a bathroom while he watched porn and smoked pot, cheated on, pushed, and hit. Not long into the relationship I truly believed that I was worthless, that I could do no better than this, and that I deserved every bit of what was happening. I guess I understood on some level that what was happening was wrong but I felt powerless to get out of it, and after every “bad” episode, he would shower me with love and gifts and promise me that he would never do it again. Let me tell you that this actually happens quite a bit to teenage girls. It is not just a phenomenon for older and/or married women. The level of manipulation and fear is such that ending the relationship seems impossible.
Eventually, after about two years (yes I said two years), I did end it. It was one particularly violent episode, where I had no choice but to involve my parents because their vehicle was on the receiving end of a couple of whacks from a baseball bat. The sick part of me still wanted to be with him, but my parents stepped up and made it too difficult. He became frustrated with me and my new restrictions. He refused to see me most of the time when I would attempt to defy my parents and make contact with him, and his involvement with other girls became more blatant. By this time I was 17, using alcohol and drugs, cutting, promiscuous, suicidal, and well on my way to a full blown eating disorder.
Long, long story short, a few months before my 18th birthday, God sent my now husband into my life. If it wasn’t for this young fella (I say young because the Hubs had just turned 16 when I met him), and of course, the grace of God, I honestly do not know where I would be, if not dead, today. It is the loving grace and mercy of God that saved my life with as few scars as possible then, and it is the loving grace and mercy of God that saved me in April 2012, over 20 years after the rape, when I finally truly surrendered my life to Jesus Christ. Because of Jesus, I do not have to allow the horrors of my past define me and my present or my future.
Which leads me to that second major thing: fully understanding forgiveness. I am the type of person that prefers to know, if not completely understand the whys, whats, hows, whens, etc. before I can truly buy into something. (Go ahead and call me a Type A overanalyzer. I claim that title and am working on it.) The concept of forgiveness is no exception. I have turned to several credible sources, not the least of which is The Holy Bible, to help me with this. What I have come to understand is that forgiveness is more for me than for the person/people I am forgiving. As my gifted pastor, Perry Noble, notes in his book Unleash!, “Holding unforgiveness in my heart and expecting it to hurt my abusers is the equivalent of drinking poison myself and expecting it to kill the other guy”. There was a part of me that wanted the people who had hurt me to suffer as much, or more, than I have. I had a therapist once, who had me visualize a way to get revenge on and torture the guy who raped me. As a therapist myself, I understand what she was doing. She wanted me to get angry! At that time I was still so lost in the pain that I could not even imagine being mad. Really, though, imagining revenge does me no good and believing that if I hung onto my anger and refused to forgive them that I was somehow hurting them, was delusional. I was really only hurting myself and my relationship with God.
I believed that if I forgave the people who hurt me that I was then OK with what they had done to me. I have come to understand that giving forgiveness is not the same as giving approval. As simple as this sounds, this has been one of the hardest things for me to grasp. I had this idea in my head that if I forgave people then I was OK with what they did to me; that forgiveness somehow included endorsement. With lots or praying I am beginning to understand that this is not the case. I can surely and sincerely forgive without saying that it is OK that I was hurt or that anyone else should ever be hurt in those ways.
I believed that I needed to receive a sincere apology – an acknowledgment that what was done to me was wrong – before I could forgive “big stuff” like this. (Interestingly I’m pretty OK with forgiving the “little stuff” without an apology. The definitions of “big” vs. “little” stuff are unclear and probably depend on my mood if I’m being totally honest.) The fact is that I will probably never get apologies from these two guys and, really, that’s OK. I know that one day they will have to stand before the Lord God and account for their lives – for these things that they did to me and likely to other girls. It is not that I seek revenge any longer. Not even revenge from God. It’s just that I know that my God is good and just and is far more capable than I (Psalm 111:7 and Revelation 16:7). Besides, my Father God loves me and thinks I’m priceless, and He will always stand up for me (Psalm 36:7 and Ephesians 2:4 and 1 John 4:16). I don’t need their apologies, but my Father God certainly does!
Here’s the thing, and it may be the most important thing: God wants us to forgive – not just the “little stuff” but the “big stuff” too! He sent his only Son to die a horrible death in order for our sins to be forgiven, so do we not owe Him forgiveness of others in return? Who am I to withhold forgiveness when I, myself, have been forgiven? Now I can honestly say that no, I have never raped anyone. I have never intentionally abused another human being or animal for that matter. I have, however sinned, and The Bible tells us that sin is sin is sin and my sins – all of them past, present, and future – have been forgiven. Take a look at what Jesus says in Matthew 18:21-35 and in Matthew 6:14-15. What about Luke 23:34 where Jesus asks God for forgiveness for the soldiers who are murdering Him! Wow!
Forgiveness is really, really hard. It is especially hard when you have been hurt to the extreme – where you lose something that you can never, ever get back. I’ll be honest and admit that I have not magically forgiven overnight the people who hurt me. It really is a process and I still have days where I can feel that bitter, dark, “you owe me” place in my heart and soul. Those days, however, are getting fewer and farther between. On those days I pray that God will help me release and take over so that I may heal a bit more and grow closer to Him. I lay my anger and pain at the foot of the cross and I trust God to take care of me. I know with all of my heart that He has not brought me this far, through so much fire, just so that I can fail now.
If someone had asked me a few months ago if I was a forgiving person I would have definitely and adamantly replied in the affirmative. I used to believe that forgiving came easy to me, and I have actually been told that I may be a little “too forgiving”. Lately, however, I have been feeling God clearly speak to me – challenge me really – about forgiveness. I have been flooded by beautiful messages, sermons, songs, Scriptures, books, and discussions focusing on, or referencing forgiveness. I have felt an almost incessant tugging on my heart, showing me the dark, heavy areas where I still carry anger, pain, and bitterness – unforgiveness.
And so, I have begun a process, asking for God’s help in releasing the anger and the pain, and helping me to move toward further healing and forgiveness. For me, it is about trusting that God is good and that He wants greater things for me; trusting in His plan for my life, not the image of a perfect life that I have created in my head. In this process I have been doing a lot of praying, a lot of seeking support, and a lot of reading. I have discovered that in order for me to move on I have to do two major things. The first is that I have to actually own my feelings and the cause(s) for those feelings – all of the hurt, pain, anger, guilt, and regret – and I have to be willing to openly discuss them, especially with those who might help me or with those who might be blessed in some way through them. The second is that I have to fully understand and grab hold of what it means to forgive – all of the whys, whats, hows, whens, etc.
So, for the first part, though I feel a bit – OK a lot – of discomfort in the pit of my stomach as I prepare to compose this section, I feel compelled to share a bit of my story, which is becoming part of my testimony. I was raped when I was 15 years old. There. I said it. I was dating a 19 year-old “good Catholic boy” from a “good Catholic family” at the time (anyone see a small problem here already? Not the Catholic part but the 19 year-old guy when I was 15 part?) I was raised in a Catholic family, though I wouldn’t necessarily call us incredibly devout. I went to Catholic schools from second through seventh grade, until we moved to SC when I was in the eighth grade. Because of my dad’s work situation, we moved around quite a bit when I was a kid. As you can imagine, going from private to public school, in the eighth grade, in an entirely different state no less, was very hard on me. I had some difficulty making friends and I found myself feeling pretty depressed and making stupid decisions. In ninth grade, I had a class with the aforementioned fella. We talked and flirted quite a bit and I discovered that he had a job at a local grocery store. One day, while my mom was shopping, she passed my phone number to him and encouraged him to call me. Later that week, he did just that, and with my parents’ OK we set up a date for a week or so later – my first date ever. After about a month or so of dating, we set up a “double date” with his friend, also 19 and in college, and his friend’s girlfriend, neither of whom I had ever met. I thought we were going out to dinner somewhere, but soon learned we were going to this friend’s house. The others started drinking beer. I was offered one but refused as I had not gotten into the drinking scene as of yet and didn’t want to then. Awhile later the guys took us back to a bedroom on the promise of showing us an awesome collection of baseball memorabilia (I was a naïve 15 year-old girl and I happened to love baseball). It was there that my date raped me, on the floor of that room, while his friend and the other girl were doing their own thing right there on the bed. It wasn’t the rape you see in movies. There was no violence or screaming, but I was clearly saying “no” and he was clearly ignoring me. I know that the other couple knew what was happening and I have recently realized that I have been holding onto anger toward them as well.
Afterwards, he drove me home in awkward silence. I was in a state of shock. I hardly remember the drive home. The thought to get as far away from him as quickly as possible didn’t even cross my mind. At my house, he didn’t walk me to the door as he had on previous dates. As I numbly climbed out of his car, he said with faux sweetness, “hey that was fun. Let’s not talk about this OK?” I vaguely remember nodding. He sped away as I went inside and said a brief hello to my parents, then immediately took a scalding hot shower, scrubbing every square inch of my skin until it was red, and went to bed. I never heard from him again and I avoided the grocery store where he worked, as well as any other place that I might accidentally run into him.
That night changed my life. I became severely depressed, though I was very skilled at hiding it. I covered my pain with alcohol, cutting (though this was sort of an unknown phenomenon at the time), and other destructive behaviors. I have no idea how my parents didn’t recognize it. Maybe they did and were too scared or hurt to ask questions. I know they just wanted me to be happy and to fit in.
It wasn’t long after that, desperate for male attention, I got into a relationship with another guy. I was still 15 when I met him and he was almost 17. This relationship was unhealthy almost from the start. It quickly turned into verbal, emotional, sexual, and physical abuse. I was called awful names, threatened, sexually assaulted, locked in a bathroom while he watched porn and smoked pot, cheated on, pushed, and hit. Not long into the relationship I truly believed that I was worthless, that I could do no better than this, and that I deserved every bit of what was happening. I guess I understood on some level that what was happening was wrong but I felt powerless to get out of it, and after every “bad” episode, he would shower me with love and gifts and promise me that he would never do it again. Let me tell you that this actually happens quite a bit to teenage girls. It is not just a phenomenon for older and/or married women. The level of manipulation and fear is such that ending the relationship seems impossible.
Eventually, after about two years (yes I said two years), I did end it. It was one particularly violent episode, where I had no choice but to involve my parents because their vehicle was on the receiving end of a couple of whacks from a baseball bat. The sick part of me still wanted to be with him, but my parents stepped up and made it too difficult. He became frustrated with me and my new restrictions. He refused to see me most of the time when I would attempt to defy my parents and make contact with him, and his involvement with other girls became more blatant. By this time I was 17, using alcohol and drugs, cutting, promiscuous, suicidal, and well on my way to a full blown eating disorder.
Long, long story short, a few months before my 18th birthday, God sent my now husband into my life. If it wasn’t for this young fella (I say young because the Hubs had just turned 16 when I met him), and of course, the grace of God, I honestly do not know where I would be, if not dead, today. It is the loving grace and mercy of God that saved my life with as few scars as possible then, and it is the loving grace and mercy of God that saved me in April 2012, over 20 years after the rape, when I finally truly surrendered my life to Jesus Christ. Because of Jesus, I do not have to allow the horrors of my past define me and my present or my future.
Which leads me to that second major thing: fully understanding forgiveness. I am the type of person that prefers to know, if not completely understand the whys, whats, hows, whens, etc. before I can truly buy into something. (Go ahead and call me a Type A overanalyzer. I claim that title and am working on it.) The concept of forgiveness is no exception. I have turned to several credible sources, not the least of which is The Holy Bible, to help me with this. What I have come to understand is that forgiveness is more for me than for the person/people I am forgiving. As my gifted pastor, Perry Noble, notes in his book Unleash!, “Holding unforgiveness in my heart and expecting it to hurt my abusers is the equivalent of drinking poison myself and expecting it to kill the other guy”. There was a part of me that wanted the people who had hurt me to suffer as much, or more, than I have. I had a therapist once, who had me visualize a way to get revenge on and torture the guy who raped me. As a therapist myself, I understand what she was doing. She wanted me to get angry! At that time I was still so lost in the pain that I could not even imagine being mad. Really, though, imagining revenge does me no good and believing that if I hung onto my anger and refused to forgive them that I was somehow hurting them, was delusional. I was really only hurting myself and my relationship with God.
I believed that if I forgave the people who hurt me that I was then OK with what they had done to me. I have come to understand that giving forgiveness is not the same as giving approval. As simple as this sounds, this has been one of the hardest things for me to grasp. I had this idea in my head that if I forgave people then I was OK with what they did to me; that forgiveness somehow included endorsement. With lots or praying I am beginning to understand that this is not the case. I can surely and sincerely forgive without saying that it is OK that I was hurt or that anyone else should ever be hurt in those ways.
I believed that I needed to receive a sincere apology – an acknowledgment that what was done to me was wrong – before I could forgive “big stuff” like this. (Interestingly I’m pretty OK with forgiving the “little stuff” without an apology. The definitions of “big” vs. “little” stuff are unclear and probably depend on my mood if I’m being totally honest.) The fact is that I will probably never get apologies from these two guys and, really, that’s OK. I know that one day they will have to stand before the Lord God and account for their lives – for these things that they did to me and likely to other girls. It is not that I seek revenge any longer. Not even revenge from God. It’s just that I know that my God is good and just and is far more capable than I (Psalm 111:7 and Revelation 16:7). Besides, my Father God loves me and thinks I’m priceless, and He will always stand up for me (Psalm 36:7 and Ephesians 2:4 and 1 John 4:16). I don’t need their apologies, but my Father God certainly does!
Here’s the thing, and it may be the most important thing: God wants us to forgive – not just the “little stuff” but the “big stuff” too! He sent his only Son to die a horrible death in order for our sins to be forgiven, so do we not owe Him forgiveness of others in return? Who am I to withhold forgiveness when I, myself, have been forgiven? Now I can honestly say that no, I have never raped anyone. I have never intentionally abused another human being or animal for that matter. I have, however sinned, and The Bible tells us that sin is sin is sin and my sins – all of them past, present, and future – have been forgiven. Take a look at what Jesus says in Matthew 18:21-35 and in Matthew 6:14-15. What about Luke 23:34 where Jesus asks God for forgiveness for the soldiers who are murdering Him! Wow!
Forgiveness is really, really hard. It is especially hard when you have been hurt to the extreme – where you lose something that you can never, ever get back. I’ll be honest and admit that I have not magically forgiven overnight the people who hurt me. It really is a process and I still have days where I can feel that bitter, dark, “you owe me” place in my heart and soul. Those days, however, are getting fewer and farther between. On those days I pray that God will help me release and take over so that I may heal a bit more and grow closer to Him. I lay my anger and pain at the foot of the cross and I trust God to take care of me. I know with all of my heart that He has not brought me this far, through so much fire, just so that I can fail now.
Monday, August 27, 2012
A Big ASK Message
The word
evangelism has always had negative connotations for me. It conjures up images of used-car-salesman
looking guys in expensive suits, smacking people on the head and begging for money;
or tight-laced and judgmental religious folks pushing their beliefs on
others. It makes me think of Tammy Faye
Bakker (God rest her soul) with her mascara running down her face, and
door-to-door “salesmen” pushing their pamphlets and their way to heaven. ***shiver***
Recently, through my amazing church and gifted Pastor, Perry Noble, I have come to have a new understanding and appreciation of evangelism. Not only are we called to share our faith in God and in His Son, Jesus Christ, with others, but it is our responsibility to ASK our friends and family, to beg them, to drag them if we must, to meet Jesus. It is not because we, as Christ followers, want to force our beliefs on others. That’s not it at all. It’s that we have a deep and profound love for people and we want know that our friends and family will spend eternity with us in heaven.
For me, and I am sure for most other Christians, there is another motivation. For whatever reason, this might be a bigger motivation for me than any other. I want the people I care about to experience the joy and peace that I have felt since I stopped running from God and I accepted Christ as my Savior. I spent a lot of years, running, confused, searching, empty. I spent a lot of time depressed, anxious, angry, overwhelmed, discouraged, hating myself, and hating life.
Ever since I began a real relationship with Jesus, my life has dramatically changed. My relationship with The Hubs is better. I am a better mother to my amazing daughters. I am less anxious, depressed, and afraid. It is astounding the peace and joy that come with trusting that God has my back and knowing that He loves me no matter what I do or have done!
Now I will be honest. Life is not suddenly all butterflies and rainbows and people skipping happily around like deranged characters in a Broadway musical. There is still a lot of ugliness in the world and life is still really hard. There are still bills, and disagreements, and sleepless nights, and illnesses, and chores. The thing is that the little things just don’t seem like big things anymore, and the big things really seem doable. I know that God wants to bless me. He wants greater things in and for my life. He will never abandon me. He has brought me through some really, really hard times to this place where I am in life today where He can use the not so good for the good. I know how awesome I am and it is because God made me to be me and to live this life for His glory. There really is no greater joy than that.
So, to my friends and family: I’m not going to stop praying for you or ASKing you to come to church with me. Even if it frustrates you or makes you angry with me. I love you and I want greater things for you!
Recently, through my amazing church and gifted Pastor, Perry Noble, I have come to have a new understanding and appreciation of evangelism. Not only are we called to share our faith in God and in His Son, Jesus Christ, with others, but it is our responsibility to ASK our friends and family, to beg them, to drag them if we must, to meet Jesus. It is not because we, as Christ followers, want to force our beliefs on others. That’s not it at all. It’s that we have a deep and profound love for people and we want know that our friends and family will spend eternity with us in heaven.
For me, and I am sure for most other Christians, there is another motivation. For whatever reason, this might be a bigger motivation for me than any other. I want the people I care about to experience the joy and peace that I have felt since I stopped running from God and I accepted Christ as my Savior. I spent a lot of years, running, confused, searching, empty. I spent a lot of time depressed, anxious, angry, overwhelmed, discouraged, hating myself, and hating life.
Ever since I began a real relationship with Jesus, my life has dramatically changed. My relationship with The Hubs is better. I am a better mother to my amazing daughters. I am less anxious, depressed, and afraid. It is astounding the peace and joy that come with trusting that God has my back and knowing that He loves me no matter what I do or have done!
Now I will be honest. Life is not suddenly all butterflies and rainbows and people skipping happily around like deranged characters in a Broadway musical. There is still a lot of ugliness in the world and life is still really hard. There are still bills, and disagreements, and sleepless nights, and illnesses, and chores. The thing is that the little things just don’t seem like big things anymore, and the big things really seem doable. I know that God wants to bless me. He wants greater things in and for my life. He will never abandon me. He has brought me through some really, really hard times to this place where I am in life today where He can use the not so good for the good. I know how awesome I am and it is because God made me to be me and to live this life for His glory. There really is no greater joy than that.
So, to my friends and family: I’m not going to stop praying for you or ASKing you to come to church with me. Even if it frustrates you or makes you angry with me. I love you and I want greater things for you!
I must give credit where credit is due
and note that my big ASK title and the inspiration for this blog comes from
Pastor Perry Noble and New Spring Church.
Check it out at www.newspring.cc
Friday, August 24, 2012
Off to School!
I would be completely remiss if I did not blog about my Madelynn starting school - 5 Kindergarten - this week. I have been putting off writing about it, thinking about it too much, because in my brain that somehow makes it more real. It is so bittersweet. I. SENT. MY. BABY. TO. SCHOOL! Seriously! I swear I just gave birth to her yesterday! Yesterday I was just struggling with PPD and wondering if I would ever sleep again! Yesterday I was nursing her around the clock and cuddling her while we both figured out our new lives. Yesterday she was a beautiful little 7lb 12oz baby who was utterly and completely dependant on me. Yesterday......
But no......my Madelynn just went off to Kindergarten - all day long - and she is so amazingly smart, and kind, and funny, and beautiful - and she absolutely loves school! When I picked her up on the very first day she protested, saying, "Mom I don't want to leave!"
I often call my children MY children - MY Madelynn, MY Isabella - but I realize more and more each day that they really aren't MY children. They belong to themselves and they belong to God, and my 2 greatest and most important jobs are to first give them roots and then give them wings. That is hard for a mother (or at least a mother like me) to admit, let alone be fully comfortable with. Everything in me wants to hold onto them tightly and never let them go.
But I watched my little girl spread her wings a bit this week - and oh are they glorious wings - full of love and light and energy and creativity! I guess I spread my wings a little bit too because I was able to let her go with just a few - OK more than a few - tears.
But no......my Madelynn just went off to Kindergarten - all day long - and she is so amazingly smart, and kind, and funny, and beautiful - and she absolutely loves school! When I picked her up on the very first day she protested, saying, "Mom I don't want to leave!"
I often call my children MY children - MY Madelynn, MY Isabella - but I realize more and more each day that they really aren't MY children. They belong to themselves and they belong to God, and my 2 greatest and most important jobs are to first give them roots and then give them wings. That is hard for a mother (or at least a mother like me) to admit, let alone be fully comfortable with. Everything in me wants to hold onto them tightly and never let them go.
But I watched my little girl spread her wings a bit this week - and oh are they glorious wings - full of love and light and energy and creativity! I guess I spread my wings a little bit too because I was able to let her go with just a few - OK more than a few - tears.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Broken Plate
I know......I'm sorry........It has been forever since I have posted. Things have been hectic, as life often is, and this just hasn't been a priority. I have lots to catch you up on but first I must write about something that has been weighing on my heart and mind. God gave me a sort of wake-up call the other day. First a bit of background. I have been struggling a bit, as usual, with my Type A control issues and my fighting to let go of that has stirred up a bit of anger, which is sort of a new feeling for me. Grief, sadness, depression, hurt, anxiety I know well, but real anger has always been something I push down and don't allow myself to feel, for whatever reason. I suppose lately it is catching up with me because nearly everything has surfaced as anger and I have caught myself "losing it" far too often.
Anyway, a few days ago I was diligently scrubbing away at some dishes when suddenly a loud crash startled me from a few feet away. I turned to see Isabella sitting on the floor wailing with fright in the midst of about a million shards of broken ceramic. As i carefully picked her up I immediately noticed what the now shards previously were, and I felt a sense of panic and anger knowing that one of my great-grandmother's heirloom plates was beyond repair. The plate had been one that I received when "Nanny" had passed away and it had been very special to me.
I tried not to think about the loss, to push my anger aside, as I examined Isabella for any sign of injury. Seeing that she was fine, I cuddled her until she stopped crying, and then began to clean up the mess.
Madelynn, who had come running at the sound of the crash, looked at me with anxious eyes.
"Mommy, I'm sorry about your plate," she said. She knew well about Nanny's plates. "Are you sad?"
"Yes I am sad," I answered. In a tense sort of quiet, she and I cleaned up what was left of the plate.
"Mommy are you mad," Madelynn asked after a minute, almost in a whisper,
I stopped what I was doing and reflected on my answer. No, Isabella should not have been playing and pulling up on the curio, but she was not being disobedient. After all, she is only 1 and does not know better. By the look on Madelynn's face and the anxiety I was feeling from Isabella, I wondered how often lately I had not stopped to think and had yelled at them unnecessarily. I felt God's gentle presence and a reminder to breathe.
"No baby I'm not mad," I said with a loud sigh. "She didn't mean to do it. Yes I am sad that my plate is broken but I'm glad baby sissy wasn't hurt." I looked at both of my precious girls and thought about how much they mean to me. "I want you both to know that you are more important to me than anything in this house. You are far more important to me than that plate. I love you both so much!" I gave them both huge hugs and soon they both went off to play. How different things would have been if I had started yelling and screaming at Isabella! I would have crushed her little spirit and I would have taught Madelynn that when you make a mistake, you deserve to be yelled at and treated harshly. If I had taught her that, I would have taught her the exact opposite of what our Father God has taught us. Our sins against God were/are much worse than the innocent mistake that Isabella had made but instead of screaming and yelling at us, God came down and cleaned up our mess Himself! Just as Isabella was incapable of cleaning up her mess, so are we incapable of erasing the sin from our lives. We had taken the beautiful life that He gave us, shattered it into a million irreparable pieces, and then sat anxious and wailing in the middle of our mess. Our gracious and merciful God lifted us out of the debris and held us close, reminding us of just how important we are to Him and how much He loves us.
There is one important difference between what God did and what I was able to do. I wasn't able to repair my plate. I had to sadly gather up all of the pieces and throw them away, sending up an apology to my Nanny. God didn't throw anything away. Instead, He took all of the tiny broken pieces and remade a new plate, more lovely than the original. He took the mess and created something beautiful from it - something that is fabulous, even though there are cracks and blemishes, because those blemishes show where God's healing love repaired us.
I am so thankful that I am no longer a broken plate! I might not look the same as I would if I had no sin in me or if there were no sin and ugliness in the world, but I try hard not to see my repaired places as imperfections, but as beautiful illustrations of God's amazing power to heal and restore. God is not angry with us. His anger disappeared when His Son Jesus died on the cross for us. Instead of punishing us He wraps us in His loving arms and says, "You are far more important to me than the mess you have made of things and I love you."
Anyway, a few days ago I was diligently scrubbing away at some dishes when suddenly a loud crash startled me from a few feet away. I turned to see Isabella sitting on the floor wailing with fright in the midst of about a million shards of broken ceramic. As i carefully picked her up I immediately noticed what the now shards previously were, and I felt a sense of panic and anger knowing that one of my great-grandmother's heirloom plates was beyond repair. The plate had been one that I received when "Nanny" had passed away and it had been very special to me.
I tried not to think about the loss, to push my anger aside, as I examined Isabella for any sign of injury. Seeing that she was fine, I cuddled her until she stopped crying, and then began to clean up the mess.
Madelynn, who had come running at the sound of the crash, looked at me with anxious eyes.
"Mommy, I'm sorry about your plate," she said. She knew well about Nanny's plates. "Are you sad?"
"Yes I am sad," I answered. In a tense sort of quiet, she and I cleaned up what was left of the plate.
"Mommy are you mad," Madelynn asked after a minute, almost in a whisper,
I stopped what I was doing and reflected on my answer. No, Isabella should not have been playing and pulling up on the curio, but she was not being disobedient. After all, she is only 1 and does not know better. By the look on Madelynn's face and the anxiety I was feeling from Isabella, I wondered how often lately I had not stopped to think and had yelled at them unnecessarily. I felt God's gentle presence and a reminder to breathe.
"No baby I'm not mad," I said with a loud sigh. "She didn't mean to do it. Yes I am sad that my plate is broken but I'm glad baby sissy wasn't hurt." I looked at both of my precious girls and thought about how much they mean to me. "I want you both to know that you are more important to me than anything in this house. You are far more important to me than that plate. I love you both so much!" I gave them both huge hugs and soon they both went off to play. How different things would have been if I had started yelling and screaming at Isabella! I would have crushed her little spirit and I would have taught Madelynn that when you make a mistake, you deserve to be yelled at and treated harshly. If I had taught her that, I would have taught her the exact opposite of what our Father God has taught us. Our sins against God were/are much worse than the innocent mistake that Isabella had made but instead of screaming and yelling at us, God came down and cleaned up our mess Himself! Just as Isabella was incapable of cleaning up her mess, so are we incapable of erasing the sin from our lives. We had taken the beautiful life that He gave us, shattered it into a million irreparable pieces, and then sat anxious and wailing in the middle of our mess. Our gracious and merciful God lifted us out of the debris and held us close, reminding us of just how important we are to Him and how much He loves us.
There is one important difference between what God did and what I was able to do. I wasn't able to repair my plate. I had to sadly gather up all of the pieces and throw them away, sending up an apology to my Nanny. God didn't throw anything away. Instead, He took all of the tiny broken pieces and remade a new plate, more lovely than the original. He took the mess and created something beautiful from it - something that is fabulous, even though there are cracks and blemishes, because those blemishes show where God's healing love repaired us.
I am so thankful that I am no longer a broken plate! I might not look the same as I would if I had no sin in me or if there were no sin and ugliness in the world, but I try hard not to see my repaired places as imperfections, but as beautiful illustrations of God's amazing power to heal and restore. God is not angry with us. His anger disappeared when His Son Jesus died on the cross for us. Instead of punishing us He wraps us in His loving arms and says, "You are far more important to me than the mess you have made of things and I love you."
Friday, June 15, 2012
Where did the last year go?
I know. I'm a day late with this post. Seems like I'm always late for everything these days. My precious Isabella turned one yesterday and I sit here, a little sad that the year went by so fast as well as happy and proud that we survived the first year and can move on to the next part of life in our little family. It is such a crazy thing to feel such conflicting emotions all at the same time. Since Isabella is our last baby (unless some miraculous act of God occurs), I am grieving never having an infant again - those newborn sounds and smells and cuddles - but then I am relieved that it won't be long before the bottles, the diapers, the teething will be a thing of the past.
The Hubs and I were talking about the last year, wondering how in the world it could have gone by so fast, but as we discussed all that transpired, it made a little more sense. Where did the last year go? Well..........
Happy 1st Birthday my precious Isabella! Mommy loves you to the moon and back a bazillion times!
The Hubs and I were talking about the last year, wondering how in the world it could have gone by so fast, but as we discussed all that transpired, it made a little more sense. Where did the last year go? Well..........
- A little more than a week before Isabella was born, the Hubs developed a kidney stone that became lodged and darn near caused his one kidney (he was only born with one) to fail. He was in the hospital for several days and ended up with surgery to remove the stone.
- At this same time, my maternal grandfather, Poppi, who lives here in SC, had open-heart surgery, and then the arduous recovery process that came along with it.
- Just three days after the Hubs' stint was removed, Isabella arrived and we were on that joyous, yet exhausting, adventure of the 4th trimester - learning our new baby and adjusting to being a family of four, which wasn't real easy for Madelynn, or the rest of us at times.
- When Isabella was two-ish weeks old, my mom's side of the family came in for a family reunion for the 4th of July. It was chaos at its best, but we had fun.
- That Fall Madelynn decided to cheer lead for the local youth organization, which led to practices and games 2 to 3 nights a week.
- Also that Fall, in September, the Hubs' youngest sister got married. Madelynn was the flower girl and I was a bridesmaid....or matron......whatever I might've been called lol!
- That October, the Hubs' great grandmother passed away. Granny Cooper was an amazing woman, strong and loving and a powerful figure in the family. Isabella was named after her.
- Of course then you have all of the Fall and Winter excitement and holidays: Halloween, Fall festivals, Clemson football (GO TIGERS!!!!), Thanksgiving, and Christmas.
- Around mid-December was when Isabella began getting sick and proceeded to spend the next several months with one illness or another. In February, she was hospitalized in the PICU for a few days, which was one of the scariest times of my life.
- Madelynn's 5th birthday was in early March and of course we had a fabulous Barbie extravaganza!
- As Spring began to arrive, my paternal grandfather unexpectedly passed away in mid/late March. He had only begun to fight the cancer that had taken over much of his body. So, the Hubs and I packed up the girls and hopped a plane to KC for a few days to be with the family and participate in the funeral. Honestly, I still have days that I can't believe he is gone. I half expect him to answer the phone when I call my Grammy.
- As the weather got warmer, we had more and more playdates with our new "mommy and me" group, which has kept us busy and running in all directions. Madelynn loves the time with other kids and I love the time with other mommies.
- In April we began attending NewSpring Church which has kept my heart and mind full and busy.
- In May we took our family "vacation" to Myrtle Beach - boy was that fun (insert eye roll and dripping sarcasm)! It was totally our fault - we chose a terrible week to go (college week and bike week) and we let Madelynn sort of drive us instead of insisting on periods of rest and such. It was chaos and we had two very tired and very irritable girls on our hands by the end of the week.
Happy 1st Birthday my precious Isabella! Mommy loves you to the moon and back a bazillion times!
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