“to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion— to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.” (Isaiah 61:2b-3a NIV)
My best Christmas memory could also be my most difficult. It was Christmas of 2014. On July 4th that year my son was taken from us when the motorcycle he was driving was hit by a young man who accidentally ran a red light.
We struggled as we prepared for the Christmas season. Buying gifts for each other and our family seemed to be a good distraction for my husband and I. Our daughter had always wanted an electric guitar, so we bought her one. My husband had always wanted to learn how to play the bass, so I secretly bought him a bass. For our little grandson, a child’s cajon. My only request was to learn how to play the cajon. Somewhere in the process of purchasing all of these musical instruments I realized that God was showing us how He was taking the pain of our loss and making music. Jesus was giving us the beauty of music as we gave Him the ashes of our pain.
Sometime during the holiday season, God impressed upon me a strong desire to purchase a basket filled with snacks that were some of my son’s favorites; this was to be delivered Christmas morning to the young man who had hit our son. I just knew God wanted us to do this; why, I didn’t know. I also didn’t know just how much peace I would experience through this simple act.
Even through the pain of loss, this was a most precious Christmas.
Several months ago I had a drive to change the backsplash in my kitchen. I paint color on the spaces between the cupboards and the counter; and between the rangehood and the stovetop, was a color I liked. However, the paint was unwashable and it contributed to the dark feel in the kitchen/dining area of my house. I have one whole wall without windows, and this is the wall occupied by my cupboards, sink, and stove. Even the mirror on the wall to reflect the light coming in from the windows on the opposite wall, seems deficient in casting more light in the space. These details; and the fact I am home much, led me to dream of other options.
With a limited redo budget, I decided to purchase some peel and stick tiles for the mentioned space. In measuring the target area; in my non-exact manner, I guesstimated needing approximately three boxes of tiles. This was great! The cost of these tiles added up to be under $50.00. That was a far cry less than the over $300.00 it would have cost to purchase the pretty subway tiles that I truly had my eye on. Now, a good friend of mine warned me that those peel and stick tiles were horrible and fell down more than they stuck to the wall. Even with that warning, I was sure that this would be the exception to the rule.
After purchasing the guesstimated three boxes of tiles, I got to work getting them on the wall. I had some of the tiles on the wall when I realized because I picked out a patterned tile, I would not have enough to complete the project. Off to the store I went for a few more boxes. Thankfully my husband helped me with the difficult tasks; like precise measurements, and I was able to complete this ‘do-it-yourself’ project. It wasn’t perfect; however, I liked it because it brightened up the space so much and it was much prettier than the sage green paint color. Don’t get me wrong, I really like the wall color. I was just tired of staring at it while I did dishes instead of being able to look out a window or at a pretty wall pattern. The grease spattered on the walls that I couldn’t wash off didn’t help either.
When I picked out and purchased the peel and stick tiles, I figured since they were for floors and would need to be pretty durable for foot traffic, they would be more than safe for the walls. I was beyond disappointed when the first time we turned on the oven, several of the tiles above the stove fell to the floor behind it. My wonderful rescuing husband moved the stove and retrieved the rebellious tiles. He proceeded to head out to his garage to grab some industrial spray adhesive which he used to spray on the backs of the fallen tiles and press them back onto the wall. This began our need to always run our exhaust fan whenever we use the oven or stovetop. Not to mention the constant chore of repressing the several other rebellious tiles to the wall.
I currently have about half of the tiles that several times a day need to be pushed back onto the wall as they oh so slightly push away from it. Frustrating! Yes, it is. Why do I share this? I’m glad you asked.
First, when a friend that does home renovations advises against using a certain product, my advice is to listen to them because they know what they are talking about. They can save you much money, time, and frustration.
Second, this morning as I was seeking God for what His to-do list looked like for me today, I began to consider what I am going to do about my falling peel and stick tile wall. I really like the look of the patterned tiles; however, I am done with the constant work it takes to keep them on the wall. To keep my ‘less expensive’ option on the wall, I will need several cans of spray adhesive with no guarantee that it will work any better. My decision… I have some paint in my storage room that will find it’s way on the wall. Paint; mind you, that was available when I installed the tiles. Painting the walls with this already owned product would have been a free; therefore even cheaper, option to begin with. Lesson learned, I think.
In my consideration of starting the painting task today, I felt more led to write. Off to my desk I went to consider what to write about. I have a couple projects I am working on. It quickly occurred to me how applicable to life this peel and stick wall issue is to real life. Here are a few things that have occurred to me; I would love to hear from you if you have any you would like to add to the list.
Advice from a knowledgeable trusted friend is a good thing to take under advisement.
Pride and/or belief that ‘it’ will be different for me can come before disappointment.
It’s never too late for a redo. NOTE: I really like this one!
My big idea or plan could take more time or resources than an already existing option. NOTE: I really like this one, too.
Being content with what I have is a good thing.
Life is full of lessons. And stories. Make sure that you are sharing yours with those around you, it can make a difference to the lives of many that you may never meet.
The first 19 years of my life, I lived in the same house with my parents and my sister. Little did I know when I moved out of that house at the age of 19, I would move approximately 23 times over the course of the next 35 years. At first I said, “moving is fun.” I could say this when all of my earthly belongings fit into the box of my fiancé’s jacked-up pickup truck. By the time we added the belongings of two children, I began to declare, “I don’t like to move. I like change; however, the moving thing has gotten old.”
One might ask, “so why did you keep moving if you don’t like to move?” That would be a good; and fair, question. One that I can answer honestly. The first dozen or so moves were situational. Our situations warranted a change of location. Some of the reasons for our moves were: a house fire, a foreclosure, frozen pipes in our rental while I was pregnant with one baby and a had toddler in tow. Some moves were temporary in nature. We found ourselves staying with my in-laws for a couple short periods as we waited to move into a more ‘permanent’ place. We also utilized a camper a couple of times in transition from one place to another. That’s an experience all its own.
Since coming into a relationship with Jesus at the age of 28, I believe God has directed the majority of our moves. Even though it has been hard at times to pack up all of our belongings, do all the things associated with a move, and get adjusted in our new locations, each place has added to who I am today. Each living space has added another layer of strength, knowledge, and perseverance I didn’t have before. Many experiences in these locations were so taxing that I was tempted to give up. I would pray for God to remove the obstacles. He usually didn’t. One thing I have learned is sometimes He allows the obstacles to remain so my character, strength, and perseverance can grow. I think my ability to be more patient has grown as well.
We have battled basement mold, bedbugs, fleas, Japanese Knotweed, putting a doublewide on fresh property, two foreclosures, owning/managing a family restaurant, being landlords, and running a bed & breakfast. Thank God this wasn’t all at the same time. The restaurant, being landlords, and running a B & B were all at the same time; the rest was fortunately spaced out some.
The point in reminiscing over all of my family’s moves is what caught my attention some weeks ago. While looking at a tall mullein plant at a campground, it occurred to me how taking certain plants from one location to another can sometimes encourage them to grow better than they had before. Conversely, the opposite can be true as well. Maybe they prefer more shade and their original location placed them in all day long direct sunlight. It may also be the original location was a crowded flower bed that stifled growth of the plant. There can be a multitude of reasons for whether a plant grows well and thrives in any given location. In my contemplation of the mullein plant, it occurred to me how the same can be said for people; specifically myself.
Some places we have lived, I noticed how I grew in my character, my faith, or other areas. Other places, I felt stifled and maybe a little stagnant. However, I have also realized recently that even in the places and spaces where I thought there’s not been any growth, there actually was. Or, maybe they were just rest spots where I could store some energy for the next part of the journey. In any case, moving many times to different areas; and sometimes back to well known areas, has fostered in me the ability to transition well and make new friends better and easier than I could as I was growing up. If I had it to do over again, would I want to move so many times? Nope. I wouldn’t. But maybe it’s just what God had planned for me to be shaped into who He planned me to be all along.
Transplanting people or plants can equal a stronger root system. It can also stifle growth if the new location isn’t conducive for that individual person or plant. Or maybe; as I have learned with knotweed, there really is growth, you just can’t see it because it’s below the surface. I have grown in perseverance, character, strength, faith, wellness, and I know a multitude of others ways through the many moves/transplants and transitions. In the end, I don’t know if I would change much about our moves. Other details, I’m sure.
Lately, Hebrews 6:19 has been brought to my attention several times. It has been my experience when this happens, Holy Spirit is working to show or teach me something. In studying this and surrounding verses, I realized a few things. In Hebrews 6:16-20a, we read:
“People swear by someone greater than themselves, and the oath confirms what is said and puts an end to all argument. Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath. God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged. (verses 19-20a) We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. “ (Hebrews 6:16-20a)
Jesus is our anchor. Hope anchors our soul. We walk by faith. These are three themes that seem to reoccur for me in this season of life. Jesus has been my hope and has kept me anchored to God the Father, even through some pretty rough storms. God’s presence has been a constant for me. I can’t always see what God is doing in and through my life; however, by faith in my anchor, I can keep walking toward God knowing He is holding onto me.
I recently attended a women’s camp for a weekend. I went looking to spend time with God and to hear from Him. In God fashion, he poured out more love on me than I could imagine.
The first portion of the weekend I felt as though something was stopping me from fully engaging with my whole heart and mind. This was no good! I asked for prayer with the team leading the camp. During this time of prayer, God revealed to me that I felt unworthy. Once we prayed through my belief of that lie, I was able to hear the Truth from Jesus. He said to me, “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” WOW! My heart was instantly full! Because my name means ‘beloved,’ what I heard was I am Amy’s, and Amy is mine. Can I say WOW again!
Later in the same day; during a time of worship, the worship team leader shared a story of how another team member and she had recently written a song. Their plan was to share the song in the opening session of the weekend; however, they had forgotten about it. And then, it didn’t seem fitting to sing it in the second session. She then shared how during prayer; following the second session, Jesus had said to one of us, “I am my beloved’s, and my beloved is mine.” Hearing this led her to know that now it was fitting to share this new song with the group.
My heart skipped a beat. Tears began to flow. I knew the worship leader was talking about me. The lines of the song were me. It was my life. My struggles. I cried through most of the song. Near the end of the song, I heard her sing the words, “I am my beloved’s and my beloved is mine.” I could hardly contain myself. As the lead singer and camp leader moved away from her guitar and music stand, she spoke the words I can still hear in my ears and feel in my heart. “Amy, God wrote you a song.” Tears, Yep! I am His! He is mine!
Back to Hebrews 6:19-20a. While reading these verses, Holy Spirit led me to “Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Him. This is found in John 14:6. I began to consider how these two passages were connected. This is what occurred to me:
Jesus is the Way. He is our only direct connection to God the Father. As a ship’s wheel steers the ship towards its destination, Jesus points us to the Father.
Jesus is the Truth. He is the reality of all of God’s promises. God embodies all Truth. A ship’s anchor keeps it from drifting off course. Likewise; but even more so, being anchored to Jesus keeps us connected to God; our Abba Father, through His Holy Spirit.
Jesus is the Life. Jesus has chosen to attach His eternal lifeline to us, giving us True Life. He is our life preserver!
These three nautical items; the anchor, ship’s wheel, and buoy/life preserver, serve as a reminder for me that I am eternally anchored to God. No matter what storms threaten to take me under; or lies that attempt to block me from the Truth, Jesus is my lifeline. He will always steer me in the right direction as I seek Him in faith.
Something to consider: What or who are you anchored to? If it’s not Jesus, why isn’t it Jesus?
It was a Monday morning. I woke up with a sense of overwhelming sadness that I couldn’t seem to shake. One of those days that I felt that I was holding back a damn of tears that could break of its own accord at any minute. Why I felt that way, I really couldn’t figure out. Even with these feelings, I plunged forward with my plans to meet a great friend of mine for brunch. I had not seen her in person in a long time and knew that our visit would change my perspective. I muddled through my normal morning routine and headed out the door to make the 35 minute drive to our agreed upon restaurant. I was truly looking forward to our conversation and time together.
Before pulling out of my driveway, I set Google Maps on my phone so the kind voice could direct me to the exact location. I knew the area of the restaurant but had never been to the establishment so I wasn’t positive of exactly where it was. I noticed I was getting close to the address when the voice on my phone told me to turn left and that I had arrived. The problem was that I didn’t see the large sign with the name on it that would reveal to me where I was to turn into the parking lot. So I did what; I think, most people would do, I pulled into the nearest parking lot on the same side of the ride as the business I was looking for; this was so that I could look at the map and have that kind voice redirect me to the correct location. Pulling into the parking lot of a recreational vehicle dealership, I sensed something not quite right with my truck but thought maybe I was being over-reactive. I found a spot to park to see where I had missed the restaurant and reprogram my Google Map so the voice could redirect me. Thinking that I was good to go, I backed out of where I stopped, put my truck into drive, and began to turn my steering wheel to enter back onto the busy road. To my dismay, I had little ability to steer my truck. I attempted to turn the wheels to the left, only to find that they only turned slightly and I was headed straight toward a curb. Fortunately, my brakes worked well and I was able to stop, back up, and move forward to a wide open parking spot on the other side of the curb that I almost hit. Once I got the truck into a spot-ish, I shut off the truck and began to make new plans. No, not really! That damn broke that held back the tears and I balled like a baby for a minute and then I semi composed myself and called my friend to let her know of my situation. She was relatively close to my location and said that she would pick me up. Great! I could get to the restaurant. Now to figure out what to do about my truck? It’s good to know that I am an internal processer and thinking fast on my feet isn’t a gift that I have been blessed with. I am thankful that my husband has been blessed with that gift of being able to think fast and is great at handling crisis situations. Knowing this, I called my hubby to let him know about my wounded truck and see how I should handle this ‘crisis.’
My husband was working but was very happy to help me out and take charge of the situation. Now it is also good to know that I’m not a big baby and I can handle things if I must. God always provides what I need, when I need it; and in this situation, He provided me with my awesome husband to call a wrecker to take my wounded truck home and my friend that came to pick me up and treated me to great brunch conversation and some needed food.
Soon after I finished my conversation with my knight in shining armor; a.k.a. my husband, my friend arrived and off we went to the restaurant. I was literally within walking distance of the place. It was only two businesses away from where I was. Well, now I know exactly where it is. 🙂
My time with my friend was exactly what I needed!
During our brunch, my husband called to let me know that a wrecker would be at my truck soon to pick it up. He asked me if I was going to ride to our house in the wrecker. My response was something like, “I don’t know the wrecker driver, I’m not riding with someone I don’t know.” A friend of ours owns the wrecker company and I know them but I didn’t even know the name of the gentleman picking up my truck so; in my mind, it was more ‘safe’ to spend the afternoon with my friend until my hubby could drive his chariot/truck to her house to get me. Another note, that would mean that he would have to drive an hour one way to pick me up after he put in a full day of work. To me; at that time, this made the most sense. I did mention that I don’t really think fast unless God helps me out. Not an excuse, just my reality. Anyway, so my husband said that he would come and get me after he got out of work. I’m thinking great, I get to spend the day with my friend instead of just an hour or so for brunch!
The wrecker driver was going to call me when he arrived at my truck so that I could give him the keys and such. We were finishing up our food and waiting for the bill when I got the call. It was after that that my friend asked me to consider riding in the wrecker back to my house. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to spend the day with me and I knew that. When she asked me to consider this, I knew that I should do just that. You see, my friend is very attune to Holy Spirit speaking to her and I know that if she suggests something, it’s probably a message she has heard from God. Considering this, I realized that I truly needed to shift my perspective. Up until she asked me to think on riding in the wrecker, I was operating out of fear and wanting to stay ‘safe.’ Her ask helped me to shift my thinking to, “Amy, you’re a pastor and this is a perfect opportunity to minister to this guy driving the wrecker.”
My friend and I left the restaurant and she drove me back to where my truck was parked. She waited for me to let her know if I was going to ride along in the wrecker or go home with her. I approached the driver and gave him the usual driver’s license, insurance, and my keys so that he could get my truck loaded up on the flatbed of his wrecker. Instantly, I was not fearful and I knew that I was riding to my house in that truck, with this young man that I didn’t know. The driver asked me if I knew where I wanted the truck parked at my house and if I would be riding with him. I found myself telling him that I would be riding with him and could tell him where to park it when we got there. As he loaded my truck, I went back to my friend and told her that I would be riding with him. She mentioned to me that I was to share with him about my son; and choking back tears, I said okay I would. I gave her a hug, she left, and I climbed into the wrecker.
SIDEBAR: For those that are unaware of the details of my son; he was killed on my husband’s/his dad’s motorcycle on July 4th, 2014. He was 22 years old and left behind a then three year old son. You can read more about my son in past blog posts at: hopestable.home.blog.
Immediately I felt comforted in the cab of the wrecker because it was very similar to the cab of my husband’s truck. I asked God to please give me the words to say to this young man…… and He did just that. This type of conversation is outside of my wheelhouse and comfort zone but I was determined to be obedient where I felt God leading. I can’t tell you every word that was said because frankly I can’t remember them; however, I can tell you that there were three in that cab that day, the driver, God, and myself. The way that I knew that God rode with us is because of me asking some very basic general questions, I found out that this young man was in seventh grade with my son. He was ‘the new kid’ because of a move from another area, and my son was one of the few kids that would talk to him in gym class. He shared with me a memory that he had of my son and it warmed my heart to hear it. I shared with this young man how my son had died in a motorcycle accident and I knew that without God I couldn’t have made it through. I felt for him as he told me that this was the second incidence where he found out someone he went to school with had died on a motorcycle some time before he had heard about it. God showed me; and I think this young man, how He truly is present and shows us this reality in little to big ways.
I really don’t think that there are words in the English language that could truly express the experience that I had that day that my truck broke down. I knew that I was in the presence of God and I wanted to bask in it all day long. Truly, after I arrived home and the wrecker drove away, I couldn’t do anything but sit on my porch and stare in awe of God for probably an hour or more.
God-incidences:
The tie rod went out on the passenger side front of my truck. It could have been a much larger and more expensive fix. If this would have broken on the road instead of in a parking lot, I could have been in an accident.
The wrecker driver that came to get my truck went to seventh grade with my son and knew him and shared something with me about my son that I didn’t know but was proud of him for.
I was able to share some of my faith with a young man. #PlantASeed #HolyBoldness.
Even though a couple other things; one of them a big deal, happened that same day, I could feel God’s Hand on my day and fear didn’t consume me!
“With its attractive appearance and ease of growth, knotweed had been sold and planted in yards around the area — before it was outlawed in 2005.
Today, it’s illegal to move or plant knotweed, but it is legal to have it growing on your property (local ordinances may vary). If you see it in your yard, approach with extreme caution. It’s the Incredible Hulk of plants. Whatever you do, don’t make it angry.
It’s not easy to get rid of. If you mow it down, it spreads. If you dig it up, it spreads. Tiny bits of it can take root anywhere. Toss “dead” knotweed into a compost pile, and that pile becomes your next knotweed patch. If you spray common glyphosate herbicides like Roundup on it, it explodes with growth.
Its indestructibility is explained by the fact the plant evolved to thrive on the volcanoes of Japan. It grows a massive root system, which can be 90 percent of the total plant. The root mass slowly stores up energy for hardship periods, for example, when lava covers it. So you can’t even kill it with hot asphalt–it will eventually burst through. This power makes it into a destructive monster. It can break through pavement, foundations and other infrastructure.” (Taken from https://www.secondwavemedia.com)
I have encountered this plant monster in my own backyard. Monster may seem like an exaggeration for a harmless plant; however, I assure you that knotweed is anything but harmless. We moved into our current home almost three years ago and was completely unaware of what grew in the yard. We moved into the home in late August and I didn’t do much with the existing flower beds except transplant my plant babies that I brought with me from our previous property. Come the next spring, I started weeding out what I didn’t want to stay and made the various existing flower beds into what I desired them to be. Much to my surprise and disappointment, my corner flower bed became a crazy jungle of a thing that I couldn’t seem to get control of. My small corner bench and pretty flowers became over run by these quickly growing stalks. My husband dug up the quick growing stalks only to have more grow up in their place. I decided that I couldn’t beat it so I just ignored the corner and tried to put it out of my mind. It became a jungle that just had me disgusted and scratching my head with wondering what to do with it. When Fall came around and everything was dying off, I decided to transplant all the plants that I wanted to rescue, removed the blocks serving as a border and gave up hopes of taking control of the space.
I was given a galvanized horse trough and planned to use it as a raised garden once we got it full of soil. Thinking that the metal would stop any more growth of this monstrous plant, I put the trough in the corner of the yard. Unfortunately, the plant just traveled under the horse trough and grew up in front of it. UGH! This spring I decided that I would take a picture of the plant with my phone and use the plant identifier and find out exactly what we are dealing with. And you guessed it, it’s Japanese Knotweed. Double UGH! I proceeded to look up how to remove this giant pain from our yard. To my frustration, I learned that it can take multiple years to actually rid our yard of it and it is nearly indestructible. Triple UGH!
As I began to consider the removal of the monstrous plant, it occurred to me that it is a pretty strong visual of sin in our lives and in the world. In the article that I read and quoted above, it said that the plant will behave if it’s not disturbed. If we just leave it be and don’t try to mess with it, it will behave; but if someone attempts to get rid of it, the plant will explode with growth. It seems like the explosion of growth is the plant’s defense mechanism for survival. I am not advocating for just leaving it be to take over it’s surroundings.
It seems to me that undisturbed sinful behaviors in our lives don’t seem to stir up any resistance; however, as soon as our eyes are opened to the sin and we start attempting to evict it from our lives, we experience a barrage of resistance that can get us to consider staying in the past habits because it’s ‘easier’ than dealing with the difficulties of ridding our lives of them. Staying in the sin seems easier because it’s what we know. Living free of sin-filled habits seems scary because it is unknown and the enemy wants us to believe that we are better living in the old way. Sometimes, Satan; in our own voice, will tell us that we don’t deserve a better life; we don’t deserve love; we don’t deserve to be treated better; we will never measure; or any other lie that will trigger something that we believe about ourselves. The Truth is that Jesus died and rose three days latter as the victor over these lies, the sin, and death.
To me, the knotweed is an evil monster. I believe that even Satan had a snippet of good in him because he was created by God and was also the leader of worship before he embraced his evilness. I have read that there are some natural medicinal properties to the knotweed plant. This does not surprise me. It doesn’t change my feelings for the evil plant; I still loathe it just as I loathe the sin in my own life that seems to stay dormant until I resolve to rid myself of it. At that point, it rears it’s ugly head and fights me back to survive in my life. I have not conquered the knotweed in my yard YET; and I have not conquered all the sin in my life YET, but I have resolved that through God’s love, grace, mercy, and His supernatural power and strength, He and I will defeat both. I know this because I know that Jesus defeated my sin with His victorious sacrifice on the Cross at Calvary! The knotweed will not defeat me and neither will Satan because I am a daughter of the King of Kings and creator of all things, including the knotweed!
After a close friend and I had a meaningful conversation about feeling like being on an exercise treadmill in her own spiritual life, I began to think about this concept further. This also caused me to deeply consider my own concerning feelings of being on a circus carousel/merry-go-round in some areas of my own life. I began to contemplate how one’s life could feel as though they are on a treadmill. Being on an exercise treadmill involves purposeful movement in the form of walking, jogging, or running. Energy is exerted through this exercise and doing so takes an intentional effort to step on the treadmill, turn it on, and then begin to move one’s body or face falling down on the sandpaper-like moving belt of the machine. More energy is needed for steeper inclines and/or a faster pace. Through consistent movement on a treadmill, one can grow in physical and mental strength and stamina; however, it can feel defeating when one is going nowhere because the equipment one is on is stationary and the progress seems to be hard to measure visually. In life, one can feel that they are on an exhausting treadmill of sorts. They can be intentionally choosing things in their life that get them moving spiritually, mentally/emotionally, and/or physically; and yet, feel that they aren’t really going anywhere in those areas of their life. Visually, it may seem that they are still in the exact same place or condition that they were in before; but, if the truth be told, they have actually gained in their strength or knowledge or endurance, or all of thee above. The real question is what is one to do if they are putting in the effort to grow but feeling like they are just going nowhere? And the next plausible question is, what is one to do if they find themselves in this challenging spot?
As mentioned previously, I have found myself feeling like I am on a circus carousel in some areas of my life. It seems that I keep circling around to some of the same issues that I have been struggling with my whole life, or at least my adulthood. A real life tender example of one of these areas that I find myself disappointingly circling around to again and again is a childhood memory that seems to keep resurfacing even though I have intentionally chosen to give forgiveness to the person that inflicted the life-changing wound, I have repeatedly talked with Jesus about this troublesome memory, and have even attempted multiple times to hand it over to Jesus. I experience some ups and some downs as if I were on one of those colorfully painted carousel horse. Things keep moving forward; so it seems, but then I find myself right back in that same wounded spot wondering why in the world I am ‘here’ again because I was so sure that I had already ‘been there and done that’ and worked through ‘it’ before. Each ride or trip around looks a little different with different co-riders on the merry-go-round but it is basically the same disappointing scenario every time. When I think about this, it reminds me of a carousel with its brightly colored horses and some bench seats for two. I think that these vibrantly colored bench seats are for those that would prefer to sit effortlessly for the spin around the circle. The basically stationary horses go up and down, up and down as the predictable ride continues to move seemingly forward; that is until the riders circle around to the same spot they were just moments before. The movement of the horse rider could appear to be of their own accord; however, the movement of the horses are purely mechanical and at the trained hands of someone else. In life, it may seem like we have all control or no control. The truth is that we have control of our choice whether or not to stay on the merry-go-round as it continues in it’s never-ending circular pattern.
In my deep contemplation of being on an exercise treadmill and/or a circus carousel, it occurred to me that there’s something more to consider in this arena. Mountains. Hiking up a mountain. Now I’m not a seasoned hiker and I have never hiked up a mountain; however, even with what little I know about mountain hiking, I can see some similarities between hiking up a grand mountain like Mount Everest and living ordinary life. In hiking up a mountain, the end goal is to successfully make it to the mountain’s peak alive and without physical injury. With the majestic beauty of mountains and all that is thriving along the way to the peak, I have to believe that part of hiking up a mountain is to enjoy the fabulous views along the way and from the very top of the mountain. Of course, the incredible sense of accomplishment could be a motivating driving force in reaching the destination. Hiking; or climbing, a mountain takes strength, endurance, determination, intentionality, and planning; not to mention the initial decision to do so. One doesn’t randomly wake up one morning and say, “I think I will go climb Mount Everest today.” It takes different types of training and conditioning to be able to spiritually, physically, and mentally/emotionally be capable to succeed in reaching the top of the mountain. There’s also a need for certain types of hiking and survival equipment and/or gear required to navigate the rough terrain of rocks, slopes, and uneven ground that one may find on their challenging journey upward. Because of the rough and unpredictable terrain of a mountain, it’s wise to hike with other experienced hikers; there truly is ‘safety in numbers.’
Ecclesiastes 4:9-11New International Version
9 Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labor: 10 If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up. 11 Also, if two lie down together, they will keep warm. But how can one keep warm alone?
I envision life as a climb up a grand majestic mountain with the ultimate mountain peak (destination) being Heaven; my eternal home. It takes all of one’s life to reach that heavenly destination; if they have accepted a relationship with Jesus Christ. Some lives are much shorter than others but the point remains that the mountain top of this life is obtained when one reaches their eternal destination.
The goal in hiking up a grand majestic mountain is to reach the peak; the pinnacle of the mountain. For those that have accepted Christ, the pinnacle is to enter Heaven as our eternal destination, and take as many souls with us as possible. In my consideration of feeling like one is on a life ‘treadmill’ or a life ‘carousel,’ it quickly occurred to me that even though being on one of these machines seems like one is moving in some way but also feeling like they are going nowhere; these times of stationary movement may actually be divinely appointed purposeful training and/or conditioning for the most arduous climb up the most extreme mountain with all those that one can take with them. The treadmill; albeit stationary, helps one to grow in strength, endurance, and patience in those trying seasons of feeling like one is going absolutely nowhere. The carousel; while moving forward and at the same time spinning in circles, allows one to peel back each layer of life experiences for healing and learning and growing from that life-altering ‘thing’ that seems to keep being resurfaced even in those times when it is thought that that old thing has been dealt with. I believe that the magnitude of the climb up the mountain of life gives one valleys to rest in, treadmills to train and become conditioned on, and carousels to ride for times of healing and strengthening. All of these seemingly ‘going nowhere’ times are actually the training and conditioning and growing ground needed to hike up the mountain, reach the destination, and take as many souls with us as possible.
A couple years ago I was having a conversation with my dad while we were driving around the countryside where he grew up; and subsequently where I grew up, and he shared with me how it bothered him that no one ever held family reunions anymore. I agreed with him and I still agree with him. I have noticed over the past thirty years how there’s been a slow fade away from all things family, including extended family reunions. Our culture’s focus has increasingly become all about the ‘ME’ and forgetting about the ‘WE’ of family. Some family units choose to ‘go off the grid’ and separate themselves from the hustle and bustle of busyness and that’s okay; I’m not judging or criticizing. Some family units choose to blend into the hurried lifestyle of going from this thing to the next and to the next thing; again, no judgement or criticism. Some balance themselves somewhere in between the two extremes. It seems to me that the majority of people tend to keep to themselves, even when it comes to those that share the same household. In an age where there are so many ways to connect and communicate, I have noticed that people connect less now than they did even twenty years ago. This seems to have happened overnight; however, it’s been happening for a very long time, it’s accelerated, yes but it has been happening over probably fifty years or more.
Our Creator God formed man in His image. He is a very relational God that is in oneness with His Son Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Our God is a God of unity, community, and connectedness. We were created in this image and when we veer from God’s original plan for us, all things go haywire and wonky. We were not created for isolation. We were not created for me kingdomship. We were not created to keep others at a distance. We were created from an image of oneness, connection, and community. When we stray away from these attributes, we encounter depression, division, discontentment, and probably many other ‘d’ words. I am not saying that I know all things and I have all the answers; this would be a big fat lie; I am on this journey of life with everyone else, I am just speaking my observations, thoughts, and concerns. Yes, I am concerned because I have young grand children that are growing up in this disconnection and chaos and I am praying for a world that’s drawing near to God’s original plan and not away from it. I believe that God allows us to see these things to be change agents for the future by using the gifts and abilities that He has bestowed upon us for ‘such a time as this.’ So… I seek my part in changing toward connection, community, and unity of the family and then make one step at a time in the right direction for my own family and pray that it will have a ripple effect. I also write about these things in hopes that others will see and understand and then be a change agent in their own sphere of influence.
What does this look like for me? I am glad you asked! After that drive with my dad that I shared at the beginning, my dad walked through the journey of passing from this earth to eternity. In the end hours of my dad’s life here on earth, my cousin, and I talked about this conversation that I had with my dad and we decided that if anyone was going to get ‘the family’ together for reunions, it’s up to our generation because our parents are getting up in years and a couple have passed already; like my dad. I believe that God has laid this burden on our hearts because He has a purpose in all of this for us. Now, I have never been one to organize family events or try to get family members together. Truth be told, growing up I never felt like I belonged in my family and have spent my adult life pretty separated from extended family because I felt that ‘they’ really weren’t interested in being in my life. That; my friends, is a lie! In organizing our first family reunion last year, I spent time talking with my cousin and got to know him better. Turns out that as we were growing up neither one of us truly knew the struggles of the other; we just believed that life was how it appeared from a distance. Since that first reunion, my husband and I have spent time with my cousin and his wife and are building a great friendship. Praise God! Not only that, but in organizing our second reunion this year, I am learning more about my extended family members that I never knew; including the names of their kids, and growing in other relationships as well. Praise God!
For years I believed it was better; and the way of life, to just do our own thing and not take the time to get to know my extended family. What a lie!!! I am so thankful to God for His opening my eyes to the blessings and purpose of being connected and in community with family; extended or otherwise. I am still learning much and have a ways to go before I will offer advice on the ‘how to’s’ but I am glad to be on this journey and thankful that I get to be a part of God’s working in returning the family to it’s proper place of importance.
NOTE: I am in no way advising anyone to stay in a household or with extended family members that are unsafe or highly toxic. I want people to have proper safety boundaries in their family relationships; where it is safe to do so, I pray for restoration of families. We also have a great God that has the ability to create the world and everything in it; so… I know that He has the ability to make all things new and restore all that is broken. Praise God! May He restore, rebuild, resurrect, refocus, redeem, and return the importance of Family, even if it means that our church family is that family for us.
I am in a season of exploring, reflecting, and seeking God’s healing and restoration in my own life. Maybe you are in a similar season?
I have come to realize that as ‘good Christian people’ we have been told several things that we are to do in order to live the life that God had planned for us when He created us. We are told things like ‘Just give it to Jesus,’ or Just leave it at the Cross.’ Are you familiar with these directives? They are great advice! I am not knocking them; however, it has occurred to me that these directives don’t usually come with the ‘How To’s’ to actually accomplish these directives. I will not pretend to think or give the impression that I have this all figured out but I have learned a few things from Scripture and some people with more knowledge than I possess. While I was sharing these things with a great friend of mine, she shared with me that ‘this sounds like a good book.’ I have decided that I would speed up the process and share it in a post.
JUST GIVE IT TO JESUS or JUST LEAVE IT AT THE CROSS
I can’t tell you how many times I have given things over to Jesus only to have them crop back up in my life; even if it wasn’t me reeling it back in. The same can be said for things that I have left at the Cross. I will admit that in my humanness I have reeled some issues back in because I felt the urge to ‘take care of it on my own.’ Of course, it didn’t work out. But for the things that I sincerely handed over to God, I struggled to understand why I would keep having to deal with them over and over. I decided that I want to shag these things and be FREE to move forward in my walk with God. A wise friend shared with me that when we try to just hand it over to Jesus we are missing some important steps. I need to allow myself to enter into the wound/event and lament over whatever it was that happened and then allow myself to feel the emotions and allow my emotions to teach me something. It’s helpful to journal about these things; pouring out my heart on the pages and crying out to God with all the things that I am feeling and experiencing. For me to cut the process short and just give it all to Jesus, I am missing an important step in my healing and strengthening. In pouring it all out, I invite Jesus into my stuff; my pain; my experience, and I ask Him to speak to me in this space. I imagine the space and look for Jesus in the space. I ask Him to reveal to me what He wants me to see, hear, and/or know in that moment. It’s also good for me to seek out what I have believed about myself because of this experience; what lie have I believed? What vow have I made because of this lie? What have I said I would never do or would always do because of this lie that I have believed? Now I want to seek and accept the Truth that God says about me after I release the lies that I have believed to Him. Example: When I am struggling, I say out loud: “I am a created chosen loved adopted redeemed restored daughter of the Most High God! This is Truth and it pours steel into my spine. You should try it; unless you are a man, then please say son instead of daughter. Lol. I am a visual person so when I move into handing my stuff over to Jesus, I literally visualize placing it into His hands or His huge dump truck, so that He can haul it away and dispose of it. Note: This is a very abridged version so please pardon the lack of step by step details.
For those who prefer bullet points:
*Allow yourself to feel your emotions and lament them.
*Journal about your feelings; cry out to God and write everything on your heart and mind. NOTE: If you are concerned about someone reading it, pray over what you’ve written and then destroy it.
*Invite Jesus into the event/experience/wound; ask Him to share with you what He wants you to know in that moment.
*Seek out what you have believed because of this event/experience/wound; what lies have you believed; and what vows have you made because of this event/experience/wound?
*Release the lies to Jesus and accept the Truth that He speaks to you.
*Hand it all over to Jesus or throw it in His huge dump truck and ask Him to take it away from you.
Lately, I have been considering what we; as human beings, take onto ourselves that really isn’t our responsibility. As parents, we tend to take on everything that is attached to our children; this is expected when they are little and unable to do for themselves, but when they become older and are able to do more for themselves it’s time for us to ‘let go’ and allow them; even push them, to do things for themselves even if they stumble or fail. Am I preaching on this? Maybe or maybe it’s just that I have lived this for myself and have learned the hard way; as we humans tend to do, that because out of love for my kids I did so many things for them, I actually handicapped them from learning how to stand on their own two feet and do for themselves. This led to my kids relying on; even expecting, that I would just do much for them that is actually their responsibility as an adult, a spouse, and a parent. My intent was to love them and do all I could for them because I wanted to be the ‘perfect’ mom. While my heart was in a good place, my choices and actions were misguided. In looking at the definition of a helicopter parent, I would say that I was one. Now, I can say that I am recovering from that; however, the damage is done. It is said that a helicopter parent is involved in every area of a child’s life out of the desire to give them all the things that they lacked in their own childhood or the fear of dire consequences, among other possible motivations. This is understandable and I believe that it is done with a heart of love; however, the outcomes for the child may not so loving.
Some negative outcomes to helicopter parenting are:
It can lead to poor coping and problem-solving skills.
It can results in a poor sense of self; low self-confidence and a low self esteem, and therefore lead to various mental health conditions.
The child can develop a sense of entitlement; that the parent(s) will always provide for all of their needs.
The child may develop lower patience levels and higher frustration bars.
“Well that is not it! Keeping your child under your surveillance 24/7 and protecting them in a small shell with no interaction with the world, accompanes various other issues. The chances of kids with helicopter parents developing signs and symptoms of depression and anxiety is higher when compared to those who practice other parenting styles. Some of the underlying reasons that explains this link between helicopter parenting and depression and anxiety are:
Nervousness to make decisions on their own.
Less chances of being open to new ideas makes them self-conscious.
The fear of failure becomes overwhelming.
Difficulty identifying what truly drives them makes them question themselves.
Of course there’s good that comes from being a helicopter parent as well.
These parents are always aware of what is going on with their kids.
If there’s something that needs to be addressed and resolved, they tend to take care of it.
Children of helicopter parents tend to feel loved and wanted.
With the maternal support, these kids tend to develop socially acceptable behavior.
These kiddos tend to excel emotionally and academically in their lives.
I don’t know if others have coined this term or not; but I have seen a parenting style emerge that I call a curler parent. In the sport of curling “Curlers sweep the ice to help the stone travel farther and straighter. Sweeping in front of the stone reduces friction and helps the curlers control the amount of curl the stone undergoes. The sweeping quickly heats and melts the pebbles on the ice leaving a film of water. This film reduces the friction between the stone and ice. The curling team is strategic in how much sweeping they do in front of each stone. If they want a stone to travel farther with less curl, they sweep more. If they want more curl or shorter travel, they do less sweeping. The position of the sweepers is also strategic. The sweeper closer to the stone has more influence because the stone has more time to travel over the water film before it re-freezes. Curling is the only sport where you can change the direction of a projectile once it leaves the thrower’s hand.” (according to the Smithsonian Science Education Center)
This reminds me of the times that I tried to look ahead and smooth their path so that they wouldn’t have a rough time in whatever they were experiencing. I; out of love and a misguided sense of parenting, thought that it was being a good mom if I made sure to make things easier for them. I thought I was helping them by making sure their path was smooth and they didn’t have to experience hurt and heartache. In hindsight, I really wish that I understand thirty-something years ago how wrong my thoughts of parenting were and looked more to how God parents His children. I now see and understand that the best we can do as parents is to provide protection for them that is conducive to their growth and development and empower them to make choices and decisions that are age appropriate; and then allow them to suffer the natural consequences that occur with the choices that they make. Parenting our children has different phases and stages and they are dependent on the age and situation that our kids are in. When they are infants, they rely on us for all things; that is expected. As they grow into toddlers, they need our support, encouragement, and nudge to reach each new developmental step of physical, emotional, and spiritual growth. As they begin to be able to comprehend consequences to choices at the age of three, it is appropriate to start to give them small choices like do you want to wear this or that; our would you like to each an orange or an apple. If there’s consequences to these choices, it’s okay for them to be uncomfortable as they venture through them; we need to not give into their discomfort, they will be okay. As kiddos grow and the decisions grow, we need to make sure that we are releasing them to make bigger, more age appropriate decisions and continue to let them be uncomfortable through the consequences. As they get into teenage years, our kiddos need us to be their coach and cheerleader and disciplinarian when warranted. The foundation is laid for these years as they grow from infancy. Once they are teens, the time to parent them as we used to has changed and it is a necessary change for moving on into adulthood. As a parent of adult children, I have looked back and learned much from the way I parented my two kids and the ways that I wished that I had done things differently. One thing that I don’t regret is that my kids; and now my grandkids, have no doubt in their minds that I love them and all that I do for them is out of the love that I have for them. Whether or not I have made right choices in how I parented my kids, I pray that all the things that I have learned through the years will be a benefit to others that come after me as parents. Parenting is one of the hardest things in this life; the best way to go through it is to handle it with God and with much prayer!
Hope's Table 