Life has continued … it tends to go on whether we want it to or not. The great weight of shame I thought had lifted … revelation had come from the Lord, my husband came home, and the routine of the new week had come again. I fully expected to continue to feel better and I ate far less cookies and watched far less TV. But then this morning hit… It's Sunday again.
I was suddenly struck by a mad desire to NOT go. Getting dressed lately is a disaster. Nothing fits… except the biggest of my clothes…. so that is where insecurity flies in again. I wanted to hide out in bed, I wanted to run away from myself. The weight of self hatred was back. My sin and shame get worn on the outside in ugly fat for all to see. I hate it… and thus hate myself.
I walked into the lobby at church and tried to be social - but everyone asks how you are, and me not wanting to be dishonest, say 'OK' or 'not good', but always with a smile on my face to assure the asker that I really don't want to talk about it with them.
I move into the service and can't bring myself to sing until a favorite comes up that just compels me… to remember that I am not my own. God is greater and He is not done yet.
Then a sermon that I fully agree with and understand …yet still does not seem to penetrate.
I realized once again that my response to God is still broken. Something in me is stuck in unbelief.
I began to pray when the sermon was finally done that God would stir my faith once again. That unbelief would be uprooted and cast out. That He would wake me up, and shake off this bondage to my old slavery. I began to thank Him for the truth of my freedom and asked Him to help me say 'yes' to it again in my soul. I prayed for the energy to pursue Him, because right now I realized that I am stuck in depression, and the darkness of it is keeping me stuck, mired down, and sluggish.
Please come and overcome Jesus.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Monday, November 10, 2014
the bottom
The night that I finished my last post … I cried and then I cried out to God that He would finally put words to the shame I have felt and buried for so long. The pain had grown so unbearable. A weight on my chest, pain in my stomach, an ache all over … physical pain, actual physical pain from such an intangible thing.
I went over the things I wrote again and again wondering what it all was speaking to me … what I buried in my heart as a result of everything. These were the words the Lord help me find:
I am just not worth it.
At the end of each next bad thing I wrote down … I could put these words - I am just not worth it. When my mom had an affair, when my parents decided to separate, when my parents refused to explain anything to me, when sex was had in the room where I slept, when I considered suicide…. It was all because I believed that I was just not worth enough to anyone for them to actually stop the insanity they were causing.
I was not worth it to my Dad who never expressed love to me. Who never told me that he wanted me to stay with him. Who never forgave me Mom and fought for our family.
I was not worth it to my Mom who seemly didn't take me or my brothers in account of ANY of her decisions. Did she think about me when she had an affair? Or when she moved me out of my Father's home? Did she think about me when she welcomed a new man into our home? Did she think about me when she never explained anything that was happening to me?
So in my heart I concluded … that I am just not worth it.
What now? When I finally got the words - there was a huge relief and I was able to finally drift off to sleep and stop crying. I prayed for healing… but is that all I should do? I really don't know.
The next day was Sunday and I managed to drag myself and my kids out of the house and get to church. What I really wanted was to stay in bed and make the day disappear again with cookies and TV. While I was there I desperately avoided eye contact and any real conversation. I could hardly keep myself from crying over nothing. And then my husband texted me. He had been out of town for all of this drama and had caught up on reading my blog. He wrote me some very sweet words and I cried again. Later that day we had small group and was grateful there was no real opportunity to share … because I knew from being at church that I might burst into tears.
So how do I make it go away? Or rather how will God make it go away? I know shame is NOT supposed to rule my whole life like it has … and that this journey is about healing it … but what does that look like?
No real answers yet in that regard … but I am hopeful that I have hit the bottom and that there is really no where to go but UP from here.
I went over the things I wrote again and again wondering what it all was speaking to me … what I buried in my heart as a result of everything. These were the words the Lord help me find:
I am just not worth it.
At the end of each next bad thing I wrote down … I could put these words - I am just not worth it. When my mom had an affair, when my parents decided to separate, when my parents refused to explain anything to me, when sex was had in the room where I slept, when I considered suicide…. It was all because I believed that I was just not worth enough to anyone for them to actually stop the insanity they were causing.
I was not worth it to my Dad who never expressed love to me. Who never told me that he wanted me to stay with him. Who never forgave me Mom and fought for our family.
I was not worth it to my Mom who seemly didn't take me or my brothers in account of ANY of her decisions. Did she think about me when she had an affair? Or when she moved me out of my Father's home? Did she think about me when she welcomed a new man into our home? Did she think about me when she never explained anything that was happening to me?
So in my heart I concluded … that I am just not worth it.
What now? When I finally got the words - there was a huge relief and I was able to finally drift off to sleep and stop crying. I prayed for healing… but is that all I should do? I really don't know.
The next day was Sunday and I managed to drag myself and my kids out of the house and get to church. What I really wanted was to stay in bed and make the day disappear again with cookies and TV. While I was there I desperately avoided eye contact and any real conversation. I could hardly keep myself from crying over nothing. And then my husband texted me. He had been out of town for all of this drama and had caught up on reading my blog. He wrote me some very sweet words and I cried again. Later that day we had small group and was grateful there was no real opportunity to share … because I knew from being at church that I might burst into tears.
So how do I make it go away? Or rather how will God make it go away? I know shame is NOT supposed to rule my whole life like it has … and that this journey is about healing it … but what does that look like?
No real answers yet in that regard … but I am hopeful that I have hit the bottom and that there is really no where to go but UP from here.
Saturday, November 8, 2014
shame rotting my bones (part 2)
The chronology continues….
One night out with my Dad and my brothers (I was either in late 6th grade or early 7th), I overhear from my vantage point in the backseat a conversation that my older brother and Dad are having… I have no idea the particulars… only that this was the first time I heard why my parents were separated. I OVERHEARD that my Mom had had and affair. No one sat down with me and explained anything - once again. BUT, now I had someone to blame for my misery. At that instant, bitterness grew in my heart toward my Mother and for the next 8 to 10 years I treated her with utter contempt. She was always on the receiving end of my angry tirades. The anger was never direct - but about everything else in life. Like not having enough clothes, or being fat, or not buying the right this or that, being late … it didn't matter - I was just angry about it all - and she got to feel it too. Now not only did I have the shame of my parents impending divorce but the shame of a Mother who had sinned so terribly against my Dad and me and my brothers.
Shortly, after this my Mom started dating more seriously one man in particular. I, of course, didn't really know about it, because again I wasn't told. But, later found out they had met at some school meeting or something like that. I don't remember him coming around for too long before his things just started appearing around the house. Then, before I knew what was happening he just lived there. Again, no discussion was had. He was just suddenly and irrevocably living in my house. It was like I was struck dumb. I didn't know HOW to say anything. Plus, then I would have to admit to the wound I was carrying around that I continually denied was there. This meant too, that more offenses were being piled on my mother. Not only was divorce in our family, but my mother had an affair, and now she was having another one and flaunting it for the world to see. I hardly know what to say even now. The selfishness and sheer lack of concern for her children and her marriage to my Dad, is astounding.
Then it got worse. My younger brother and I could hear them having sex, gosh is seemed like all the time. We lived in an older home and the doors didn't always close tightly, and many times walking by I could SEE them having sex. And then to make it even worse one time when we had guests over, they gave their room to the guests and bunked in with my brother. They had sex in his room once they thought he was asleep. He wasn't. The next night my scarred brother slept in my room. Then while on vacation sharing a hotel room with 2 double beds and no divider whatsoever, my brother and I awoke to the sound of sex being had in the bed next to ours. Once again, anger just erupted like a volcano inside of me. My younger brother, however, was less good at hiding it. He started acting out in destructive ways… vandalism and running away… and was eventually got caught in some of that. He then moved out and moved in with my Dad. Even though I KNEW why he left… it still hurt that he was gone - he was my ally. We were always close before this … and now nothing between us was the same again.
As things got worse at home, they were also bad at school. The dreaded days of Jr High were upon me. The big gaping wound I carried and tried to keep hidden was a huge burden. Depression, and self-hatred set in, which of course, makes school unbearable. My body couldn't recover like it had when I was younger when I ate a bag of chips or a whole tray of brownies and so weight piled on even more. I was never a beast, but I wasn't skinny either. There were a couple of badly chosen haircuts in an attempt to make me feel better that instead failed. Finally, I felt invisible just like I wanted, it however, didn't turn out like I planned. I even remember not answering to my own name in the hallways. There was a popular girl with the same name - and since they usually wanted her, I ignored my own name. That didn't work for me one time when I was caught not responding to a popular girls yells in my direction. Ugg. I couldn't win. She did actually need me for something. But, usually, I was ignored. During english class I sat between the 2 most popular boys. I sat with my head down and they talked through me like I wasn't there. I heard LOTS of gossip that way… but really had no one to share it with. Invisible wasn't what it was cracked up to be… I ached everywhere all the time from the wound that no one saw.
During that time I seriously considered suicide. I thought about running into the woods and overdosing on everything in the medicine cabinet. This was encouraged regularly by voices that I heard in my head. The voices in my head I thought at that time, were just me going crazy. It was just more evidence that I was worthless. Now I know that they were demons preying on the sorrow and depression of a young girl. But at the time they confirmed what I already believed. That I was ugly, worthless and unwanted.
I got saved when I was 16. Through friends who pursued me despite my bitterness and unbelief.
By the middle of my senior year, I found out that my parents had gotten divorced months earlier and didn't tell me or my brothers. And that my Mom remarried within the same month and didn't tell me or my brothers. Again, I have no words for this continual betrayal with silence.
By the latter part of my freshmen year of college things with my mother had grown unbearable. I outwardly hated her. The Lord told me to forgive but I felt she deserved my rage. In the end, The Lord got His way through much prayer and tears. I wrote her a letter outlining much of what I have written here. She wrote back and explained a lot of things to me that I had never understood. I forgave and let go. I tried to rebuild our relationship. And over many years, it has become filled with love and kindness again.
But apparently, the shame has never left. I just keep adding to the pile of - ugly, worthless and unwanted. Any new offense just gets added in. It doesn't matter from who.
I remember a time when my Dad called me a bitch in front of my brothers.
A time in college - at Bible college no less - that I had to eat late and I sat at the 'wrong' table. The group who sat down eventually were apparently extremely bothered by my presence and proceeded to talk about me as if I wasn't there. Made fun of me. In one guys defense … he later apologized and was horrified that he didn't say anything right then. Truly, I am thankful the actual words are blocked from my memory.
The Maid of Honor at my wedding, didn't bother to even invite me to hers. She wrote me a 'sorry' note after the fact.
A friend betrayed me at our last church and spoke out against me and my husband to the elders. She blamed me for her failed marriage - which is a long story. But she was someone I had poured life into and she basically spit in my face. Many months later, she came to apologize, but the damage was done, and our friendship was gone.
These later examples are just a few that I can remember … It doesn't even really matter what they are but I felt like I should get them out just in case. In all of this I struggled endlessly with depression. Anger. Self-hatred. I wondered where God was, and whether he was really good like He claimed. I questioned His love. I struggled to believe His word … because it never felt true in my life. I never have felt beautiful to Him. I have always felt like I should feel worthless because His worth is so much greater. And even though Jesus came to die on the cross for my sins … and I have trusted in that for salvation; it still at times has felt incredibly distant. A nice thing for the God in the sky to do for a poor unwanted girl down here. I have rarely felt his delight for me… rarely believed He does delight in me.
I think soon I need to trace His pursuit of me … now that I have traced the shame throughout my life. I still don't feel done in this area of shame, though, that phrase - betrayal of silence - is burning in me to be looked at. There is still more gnawing at me.
shame rotting my bones
Today, after what seemed to be several weeks of drowning in shame … there was finally a breakthrough.
I decided to look up the word 'shame' in the Bible. The Bible and I have not been getting along as of late… I keep reading - and NOTHING keeps happening. Seriously, this year of quiet has not been fun. But, I tried again, and I did a word search in Bible Gateway. I read through every verse on shame … not much stood out. This one did.
Proverbs 12:4
An excellent wife is the crown of her husband,
but she who brings shame is like rottenness in his bones.
'She who brings shame is like rottenness in his bones'… Even though I am a wife … I knew that this verse was not about me, but instead about my MOTHER. And the rottenness of shame spread not only to her husband, but her whole family… including me.
I've been over this territory a million times. I have dealt with my parents separation and divorce. I have combed over every bit, because for so long it was what drove EVERYTHING I did and thought. I was filled with bitterness, and anger, depression, and un-forgiveness for so long. BUT, then Jesus came into my life and began to change it all. He taught me to forgive. And I let go of it.
Truly, I love my Mom. I HAVE forgiven her. For many years though, I carried around a bitterness toward her for destroying my life and my family. BUT, I forgave her for how she sinned against me. Our relationship has been restored. So I would have never thought that THIS is the root of my shame.
I didn't know that my forgiveness needed to go even deeper. Because the shame she inflicted, wounded me deeper than I realized.
I am really glad that my name is not directly tied to this blog. And that hers is not either. Because I am going to share some awful stuff below. I prayed about whether or not I should… and I think I should. Light is better than darkness. This story is not just about how she shamed me, but also about MY shame in general. I am just going to list off some stuff as I remember it … I'm trying to be chronological - but I know it will turn out convoluted. And sorry … this is long.
My mother had an affair. I think it happened when I was in 3rd or 4th grade … I was 8 or 9, but I didn't find out until I was 13 or so.
I never heard my parents fight. I just saw my Dad sleeping on the pull out couch for a few nights. They went to our pastor for counsel a couple of times, I think - I remember it once though. I didn't really know anything was wrong. But, then one day my Mom told me that my younger brother and I were moving out with her… and that my parents were separating. I didn't know why then. I didn't know anything. She didn't tell me anything. Neither did my Dad. I don't even remember him saying goodbye when we moved.
It was the beginning of 6th grade when I moved. I remember the day because I was so sad and confused. My best friend asked me what was wrong … and I told her we were moving that day … and she said, 'So what?!' I remember thinking, 'woah… I guess I won't talk about it again.'
My parents were separated from the time I was 11 until I was 17. It only sounds like 6 years when I write the numbers … which I suppose IS a long time … but it was the time from 6th grade until I was a Senior in High School. That's 6th grade, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th and 12th grades where life was in limbo, in between marriage and divorce. I found out later that it lasted that long because they were fighting about money … mostly, about me and college. Towards the end I was the only one left living with my Mom, my younger brother moved back in with my Dad when my older brother went to college. The 'why' of that comes a bit later. Divorce in general is enough shame, dragging it out is even worse.
Somewhere in that first year after moving my Mom started going on dates. There was a divorced man from our church who started coming around. There really are no words for how that feels. In one sense, my child-like self found it interesting because it was new and kind of exciting. But, in the depths of my heart … he was simply NOT my Dad. And I hated it. My Mom told me much later in life that she was trying to make my Dad jealous - so he would come after her and reclaim her. It didn't work though, he never did.
One day in my 6th grade class, right before the end of the day, kids started tossing my coat around the room for a joke, monkey in the middle style. Anger and hurt were so built up at the time that I burst out screaming, 'you don't have to make fun of me, just because my parents are getting divorced!!!' Ugg, wrong move … as if I could have controlled it. Then, 'poor me' had the teacher talking to me, telling me I had to tell my Mom what happened. And then a counselor was called in to drag me from class to tell me that divorce isn't my fault. Well, I KNEW that. But, now I also knew I could never let anyone see that wound again. It caused too much attention. Way too much attention. The last thing I needed was to be seen tied to this mess. By the way, my Mom barely acknowledged the conversation when we had it. She didn't look up from what she was doing (probably from her own shame) and I played the whole thing off as 'not a big deal'. She bought the crap I was selling - probably because it was easier on her too - and we never spoke of it again.
At the same time that my inner shame is being revealed to the whole world via my big mouth… I am also beginning to hit puberty. My body is rebelling. My breasts begin to develop. I start to gain weight. Hips that were never there, now began to appear. Before the 6th grade, I was one of the most popular girls in school. I was pretty and skinny, I had long blonde hair. My mom dressed me in nice clothes. I began to set trends even. I had tons of boys flocked around me writing love notes and buying me gifts … like all the time. Every girl wanted to be my friend, and every boy wanted to be my boyfriend. I was wanted. So when my parents separated, and I moved … my body was ALSO changing, and NOT in my favor. All eyes that were once on me - were now NOT. And a whole bushel of other girls were getting noticed and I saw it happening all around me. It was like the whole world was turning away. Then, one day I was standing in line with my friend and she openly tells me to untuck a shirt I am wearing because it makes me look fat and she said it in front of other people. I complied in mortification. And then I knew I was no longer beautiful, but ugly. The change had happened and I went from being noticed for being pretty to being noticed for being ugly. But soon after, what I wanted was to be invisible. That is WAY better than being seen as ugly… or so I thought.
Ok. I need a break, this sucks.
I decided to look up the word 'shame' in the Bible. The Bible and I have not been getting along as of late… I keep reading - and NOTHING keeps happening. Seriously, this year of quiet has not been fun. But, I tried again, and I did a word search in Bible Gateway. I read through every verse on shame … not much stood out. This one did.
Proverbs 12:4
An excellent wife is the crown of her husband,
but she who brings shame is like rottenness in his bones.
'She who brings shame is like rottenness in his bones'… Even though I am a wife … I knew that this verse was not about me, but instead about my MOTHER. And the rottenness of shame spread not only to her husband, but her whole family… including me.
I've been over this territory a million times. I have dealt with my parents separation and divorce. I have combed over every bit, because for so long it was what drove EVERYTHING I did and thought. I was filled with bitterness, and anger, depression, and un-forgiveness for so long. BUT, then Jesus came into my life and began to change it all. He taught me to forgive. And I let go of it.
Truly, I love my Mom. I HAVE forgiven her. For many years though, I carried around a bitterness toward her for destroying my life and my family. BUT, I forgave her for how she sinned against me. Our relationship has been restored. So I would have never thought that THIS is the root of my shame.
I didn't know that my forgiveness needed to go even deeper. Because the shame she inflicted, wounded me deeper than I realized.
I am really glad that my name is not directly tied to this blog. And that hers is not either. Because I am going to share some awful stuff below. I prayed about whether or not I should… and I think I should. Light is better than darkness. This story is not just about how she shamed me, but also about MY shame in general. I am just going to list off some stuff as I remember it … I'm trying to be chronological - but I know it will turn out convoluted. And sorry … this is long.
My mother had an affair. I think it happened when I was in 3rd or 4th grade … I was 8 or 9, but I didn't find out until I was 13 or so.
I never heard my parents fight. I just saw my Dad sleeping on the pull out couch for a few nights. They went to our pastor for counsel a couple of times, I think - I remember it once though. I didn't really know anything was wrong. But, then one day my Mom told me that my younger brother and I were moving out with her… and that my parents were separating. I didn't know why then. I didn't know anything. She didn't tell me anything. Neither did my Dad. I don't even remember him saying goodbye when we moved.
It was the beginning of 6th grade when I moved. I remember the day because I was so sad and confused. My best friend asked me what was wrong … and I told her we were moving that day … and she said, 'So what?!' I remember thinking, 'woah… I guess I won't talk about it again.'
My parents were separated from the time I was 11 until I was 17. It only sounds like 6 years when I write the numbers … which I suppose IS a long time … but it was the time from 6th grade until I was a Senior in High School. That's 6th grade, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th and 12th grades where life was in limbo, in between marriage and divorce. I found out later that it lasted that long because they were fighting about money … mostly, about me and college. Towards the end I was the only one left living with my Mom, my younger brother moved back in with my Dad when my older brother went to college. The 'why' of that comes a bit later. Divorce in general is enough shame, dragging it out is even worse.
Somewhere in that first year after moving my Mom started going on dates. There was a divorced man from our church who started coming around. There really are no words for how that feels. In one sense, my child-like self found it interesting because it was new and kind of exciting. But, in the depths of my heart … he was simply NOT my Dad. And I hated it. My Mom told me much later in life that she was trying to make my Dad jealous - so he would come after her and reclaim her. It didn't work though, he never did.
One day in my 6th grade class, right before the end of the day, kids started tossing my coat around the room for a joke, monkey in the middle style. Anger and hurt were so built up at the time that I burst out screaming, 'you don't have to make fun of me, just because my parents are getting divorced!!!' Ugg, wrong move … as if I could have controlled it. Then, 'poor me' had the teacher talking to me, telling me I had to tell my Mom what happened. And then a counselor was called in to drag me from class to tell me that divorce isn't my fault. Well, I KNEW that. But, now I also knew I could never let anyone see that wound again. It caused too much attention. Way too much attention. The last thing I needed was to be seen tied to this mess. By the way, my Mom barely acknowledged the conversation when we had it. She didn't look up from what she was doing (probably from her own shame) and I played the whole thing off as 'not a big deal'. She bought the crap I was selling - probably because it was easier on her too - and we never spoke of it again.
At the same time that my inner shame is being revealed to the whole world via my big mouth… I am also beginning to hit puberty. My body is rebelling. My breasts begin to develop. I start to gain weight. Hips that were never there, now began to appear. Before the 6th grade, I was one of the most popular girls in school. I was pretty and skinny, I had long blonde hair. My mom dressed me in nice clothes. I began to set trends even. I had tons of boys flocked around me writing love notes and buying me gifts … like all the time. Every girl wanted to be my friend, and every boy wanted to be my boyfriend. I was wanted. So when my parents separated, and I moved … my body was ALSO changing, and NOT in my favor. All eyes that were once on me - were now NOT. And a whole bushel of other girls were getting noticed and I saw it happening all around me. It was like the whole world was turning away. Then, one day I was standing in line with my friend and she openly tells me to untuck a shirt I am wearing because it makes me look fat and she said it in front of other people. I complied in mortification. And then I knew I was no longer beautiful, but ugly. The change had happened and I went from being noticed for being pretty to being noticed for being ugly. But soon after, what I wanted was to be invisible. That is WAY better than being seen as ugly… or so I thought.
Ok. I need a break, this sucks.
Thursday, November 6, 2014
feelings
Feelings matter.
So many people would say while I am in the middle of this choking fog of shame, that I should just reject what I am feeling and focus on the promises of God … they are what is true. That feelings are not to lead us around in life. Well, I agree and totally disagree all at the same time.
Yes, it is true that I should work on remembering God's promises … that is how Jesus defeated Satan during the temptation. He used the Word of God as a weapon of combat. He stood strong in the Word. They were and are, after all, a reflection of Himself - His very being. God's Word does not come back empty, it always fulfills what God declares.
But isn't the purpose of this whole walk down shame-memory-lane … to reveal and uproot the shame that has been driving me for the last 30 years? How else am I supposed to do it without releasing pent up emotion and hurt? How else am I supposed to identify the cause unless I understand the emotions that are coming out of it?
'Out of the overflow of the heart … the mouth speaks' … isn't that a quote from Jesus somewhere in the gospels? Doesn't that mean that whatever boils out of my heart … eventually comes out in my life? If my heart is hurt and wounded … doesn't it make sense that in a state of self-protection, anger would come rising out to keep people at bay? I think so. feelings tell us when something is wrong … they can also tell us when something is right.
Piper always says in his principals of Christian Hedonism that we can't just follow God out of duty, but we must be seeking God for His glory, and our greatest joy. We must love Him wholeheartedly because that is how we thank God for all He has done for us. It is a heart filled with love for Him that makes God feel joy. He doesn't love us to get joy, because He is already perfect and has everything but, He loves it when we LOVE Him. When it just pours out from us. In Song of Songs it says that this is what captivates His heart… it overwhelms Him.
Right now the only thing overwhelming my heart is shame. It has been eating away my insides for 30 years… with new offenses being dumped in each time they meet the profile. BUT, what I want is my heart to be filled with love. I want the Lord to be captivated by my heart overflowing for Him. I want my feelings - all of them - to love Jesus - not just to say I do - but to KNOW I do. To FEEL that I do.
If we really love God we WILL love others too … it will just happen. 'The first commandment is to love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength … the second IS JUST LIKE IT … to love your neighbor as yourself.' It is the overflow of a heart in love with God.
God, take my heart captive … so that I might captivate yours.
So many people would say while I am in the middle of this choking fog of shame, that I should just reject what I am feeling and focus on the promises of God … they are what is true. That feelings are not to lead us around in life. Well, I agree and totally disagree all at the same time.
Yes, it is true that I should work on remembering God's promises … that is how Jesus defeated Satan during the temptation. He used the Word of God as a weapon of combat. He stood strong in the Word. They were and are, after all, a reflection of Himself - His very being. God's Word does not come back empty, it always fulfills what God declares.
But isn't the purpose of this whole walk down shame-memory-lane … to reveal and uproot the shame that has been driving me for the last 30 years? How else am I supposed to do it without releasing pent up emotion and hurt? How else am I supposed to identify the cause unless I understand the emotions that are coming out of it?
'Out of the overflow of the heart … the mouth speaks' … isn't that a quote from Jesus somewhere in the gospels? Doesn't that mean that whatever boils out of my heart … eventually comes out in my life? If my heart is hurt and wounded … doesn't it make sense that in a state of self-protection, anger would come rising out to keep people at bay? I think so. feelings tell us when something is wrong … they can also tell us when something is right.
Piper always says in his principals of Christian Hedonism that we can't just follow God out of duty, but we must be seeking God for His glory, and our greatest joy. We must love Him wholeheartedly because that is how we thank God for all He has done for us. It is a heart filled with love for Him that makes God feel joy. He doesn't love us to get joy, because He is already perfect and has everything but, He loves it when we LOVE Him. When it just pours out from us. In Song of Songs it says that this is what captivates His heart… it overwhelms Him.
Right now the only thing overwhelming my heart is shame. It has been eating away my insides for 30 years… with new offenses being dumped in each time they meet the profile. BUT, what I want is my heart to be filled with love. I want the Lord to be captivated by my heart overflowing for Him. I want my feelings - all of them - to love Jesus - not just to say I do - but to KNOW I do. To FEEL that I do.
If we really love God we WILL love others too … it will just happen. 'The first commandment is to love God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength … the second IS JUST LIKE IT … to love your neighbor as yourself.' It is the overflow of a heart in love with God.
God, take my heart captive … so that I might captivate yours.
wasted
I hardly know where to begin.
I have been stuck inside myself with so much swirling around. There have been so many wrong thoughts. So much unbelief. So much self-hatred. Shame has filled my stomach up with nausea that I have been trying to snuff out with cookies. Which then only feeds my hatred more.
It has been hard to breathe. I have been turning the TV on a lot lately… trying to drown out my own thoughts and breathe again. The noise inside is ugly. I can hardly look at myself in the mirror without loathing. It is hard to settle into a quiet activity because the thoughts rise up again. Such evil like: 'I am ugly', 'no one wants me around', 'I am full of darkness', 'I am un-pursued', 'I am fat'… and countless more. ' throw up what you just ate' , 'starve yourself', ' life is not worth living'. It's so hard to put into words … it's like a constant choking fog.
I can barely stand it anymore.
I woke up this morning just crying out to God for help. I am so wasted from it. It's exhausting trying to reject each one. Trying to remember the truth.
I so want this done, Lord. Please rescue. Please reveal the shame. I simply can't stand this anymore.
I have been stuck inside myself with so much swirling around. There have been so many wrong thoughts. So much unbelief. So much self-hatred. Shame has filled my stomach up with nausea that I have been trying to snuff out with cookies. Which then only feeds my hatred more.
It has been hard to breathe. I have been turning the TV on a lot lately… trying to drown out my own thoughts and breathe again. The noise inside is ugly. I can hardly look at myself in the mirror without loathing. It is hard to settle into a quiet activity because the thoughts rise up again. Such evil like: 'I am ugly', 'no one wants me around', 'I am full of darkness', 'I am un-pursued', 'I am fat'… and countless more. ' throw up what you just ate' , 'starve yourself', ' life is not worth living'. It's so hard to put into words … it's like a constant choking fog.
I can barely stand it anymore.
I woke up this morning just crying out to God for help. I am so wasted from it. It's exhausting trying to reject each one. Trying to remember the truth.
I so want this done, Lord. Please rescue. Please reveal the shame. I simply can't stand this anymore.
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Brazil
I was recently in Brazil. Before I went I wondered what I was there for… and honestly, I am still not sure.
One thing I AM sure of, I got to know our partners in ministry much better. We had lots of time for good discussion, and fun as well. We talked over meals, we laughed when things were ridiculous. Our hearts sank together as we looked in on the horrors of human poverty and drug use.
Brazil is a mix for me … at a distance it is a gorgeous place. Sweeping mountains of jungle right on a gorgeous coastline. A city full of promise with friendly people. Standing above it all is the Christ statue with His arms stretched wide to the people below.
…but up close it is full of filth. Spray painted drug tags are everywhere on everything. Trash is everywhere… and I mean everywhere. It is literally like people just throw their trash down wherever they are, even in the nice parts of town. Huge slums sweep up the sides of mountains. In them, drug dealers are everywhere. There are makeshift huts made from remains of billboards and tarps or whatever they could cob together. Maybe some running water. No toilets. All surrounded by mountains of trash. Flies buzzing. Pigs roaming. Horses standing in the trash rifling for a meal.
In Brazil, in Rio… the rich are super rich, and the poor are super poor.
We visited 2 slums … the first one, 'The City of God', was called dangerous … though while I was there I did not feel as though I was in danger. Apparently, the drug dealers there are really violent. And there are many shootings. We were there to see it, and to gather some kids together for a Bible story, snack and games. While we were playing games, a sound of firecrackers came from around the corner … the kids got up and ran, parents yelling 'en casa, en casa!!!' It was gun fire. I was oblivious. Since I have never heard real gunfire (except a shotgun during hunting season), it didn't scare me even a little, the only reason I moved from where I was - was because everyone was scrambling. This is how these kids live everyday.
The other slum was even worse.
'Crackland' … I didn't know a place could be dirtier than what I had already seen. We went with an evangelistic team who goes into the slum to call people out from drugs to Jesus and rehab. I guess it's pretty safe to venture in with a big crowd. We passed by many drug dealers … some of whom looked like 12 year old boys… though I am sure were armed and extremely dangerous. We crawled through a hole in a wall and crossed the railroad tracks. Walked a makeshift bridge over a river of scum, urine, trash, maybe some water… and entered what some people deemed 'home'. But, really what it is, is a narrow strip of land between the tracks and a highway, where people have found a little bit of shade under some palm trees. They threw up some tarps, and gathered a scrap here or there for a roof. The whole place stank of urine and sweat. It was muddy and hard to move around. And nearly everyone there had a blank, glazed look in their eye.
They spend what little money they find on crack. They do hits over and over again until they are unable to sleep for days. And when they come off it, they fall onto the ground, or a filthy mattress on the side of the road, and sleep for days on end. This is their endless cycle. Throw in prostitution, pregnancies, and crack babies, and now they are not only ruining their own lives, but the next generation as well.
What strikes me most … the kids. They amidst it all, still had bright shining faces. They smiled and laughed. They had toys. They had Disney princesses on their shirts. They played amidst the filth. They ran around barefoot and carefree. They felt safe … most of the time … because this was their home. They know nothing different.
So I am still processing what I experienced…. I still am not 100% sure what God wants me to take away from it all. BUT one word keeps coming up again and again in my mind… intercession.
Intercession is change. God moves and change happens. BUT first we have to get on our faces and pray.
Where do you want me, God?
One thing I AM sure of, I got to know our partners in ministry much better. We had lots of time for good discussion, and fun as well. We talked over meals, we laughed when things were ridiculous. Our hearts sank together as we looked in on the horrors of human poverty and drug use.
Brazil is a mix for me … at a distance it is a gorgeous place. Sweeping mountains of jungle right on a gorgeous coastline. A city full of promise with friendly people. Standing above it all is the Christ statue with His arms stretched wide to the people below.
…but up close it is full of filth. Spray painted drug tags are everywhere on everything. Trash is everywhere… and I mean everywhere. It is literally like people just throw their trash down wherever they are, even in the nice parts of town. Huge slums sweep up the sides of mountains. In them, drug dealers are everywhere. There are makeshift huts made from remains of billboards and tarps or whatever they could cob together. Maybe some running water. No toilets. All surrounded by mountains of trash. Flies buzzing. Pigs roaming. Horses standing in the trash rifling for a meal.
In Brazil, in Rio… the rich are super rich, and the poor are super poor.
We visited 2 slums … the first one, 'The City of God', was called dangerous … though while I was there I did not feel as though I was in danger. Apparently, the drug dealers there are really violent. And there are many shootings. We were there to see it, and to gather some kids together for a Bible story, snack and games. While we were playing games, a sound of firecrackers came from around the corner … the kids got up and ran, parents yelling 'en casa, en casa!!!' It was gun fire. I was oblivious. Since I have never heard real gunfire (except a shotgun during hunting season), it didn't scare me even a little, the only reason I moved from where I was - was because everyone was scrambling. This is how these kids live everyday.
The other slum was even worse.
'Crackland' … I didn't know a place could be dirtier than what I had already seen. We went with an evangelistic team who goes into the slum to call people out from drugs to Jesus and rehab. I guess it's pretty safe to venture in with a big crowd. We passed by many drug dealers … some of whom looked like 12 year old boys… though I am sure were armed and extremely dangerous. We crawled through a hole in a wall and crossed the railroad tracks. Walked a makeshift bridge over a river of scum, urine, trash, maybe some water… and entered what some people deemed 'home'. But, really what it is, is a narrow strip of land between the tracks and a highway, where people have found a little bit of shade under some palm trees. They threw up some tarps, and gathered a scrap here or there for a roof. The whole place stank of urine and sweat. It was muddy and hard to move around. And nearly everyone there had a blank, glazed look in their eye.
They spend what little money they find on crack. They do hits over and over again until they are unable to sleep for days. And when they come off it, they fall onto the ground, or a filthy mattress on the side of the road, and sleep for days on end. This is their endless cycle. Throw in prostitution, pregnancies, and crack babies, and now they are not only ruining their own lives, but the next generation as well.
What strikes me most … the kids. They amidst it all, still had bright shining faces. They smiled and laughed. They had toys. They had Disney princesses on their shirts. They played amidst the filth. They ran around barefoot and carefree. They felt safe … most of the time … because this was their home. They know nothing different.
So I am still processing what I experienced…. I still am not 100% sure what God wants me to take away from it all. BUT one word keeps coming up again and again in my mind… intercession.
Intercession is change. God moves and change happens. BUT first we have to get on our faces and pray.
Where do you want me, God?
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