identifiably and tragically changed

I've spent the last several days really doing some soul searching. Recent events drove this to a top priority level on the necessity scale. You know, when you sit and try to figure things out and you just can't wrap your brain around that thing? Certain situations have made me think so hard, probably over-thinking, but really trying to process what I'm taking in. It's almost as if the motor in my brain is overheating—I've fried everything just trying to figure this thing out. I've literally expelled all my energy, emotionally and mentally just trying to make sense of this thing.

I had a good long cry the other night. A trillion and one little thoughts ranging from "I'm a freak" to "what's for supper" to "I just don't get it" to "what did I do so wrong" to "why did A do this" and "why did B do that to "I could eat a donut right now". I know, right? Insane. There are times, I admit, when my brain just flails out of control. But these tears were accompanied with this feeling that I was sort of washing out some of the hurt; the rest will heal over time. It's been a while since I cried. (Which is kind of weird.) Sadly my emotions as of late come out via the anger channel. A sarcastic quip, or raised voice, or angry combative exchange of words. The emotion has to get out—I'd explode otherwise. But why yell at my kids when its not the kids I'm upset with.  Or why be angry when you're really just sad? So I cried. And I felt better.

Along with the tears came something which really helped more than anything. The truth. That moment when I was able to name the reason I felt the way I did. Tangled up with that, was also where I owned the responsibility for my thoughts, actions, and inaction. That equals some level of freedom for sure. Allowing myself to verbalize the truth or identifying the root of the issue also allows me to breathe. When that brief moment of clarity snapped for me, it helped this situation make a little more sense. I have to stop looking at why "so in so" does this or "so in so" does that. I have to look at me.

I can't hide the fact that events in life have led me to fashion this little "fortress of solitude" around my little heart. We all do it. It's safe. But for me, it's like I literally cut-off the lifeline to my heart. Nothing in and nothing out. Sometimes I feel like that little heart became cold, dead, and black. Is that normal? Well, I can't speak to what normal is exactly, but I do think it makes sense. I suppose after a person has been broken, you'd be crazy to think that they'd remain the same after being put back together. Look at Humpty Dumpty; all the kings' horses and all the kings' men could not put him together again.

 

My heart suffered a tragic accident. The recovery is taking for-ev-er. I've made great progress, but I've also run into many obstacles that set the recovery back a few steps. It's painful and incredibly frustrating. When will I be strong enough to forget? How can I define myself in other ways, without considering the accident? When will people realize that their cure to everything doesn't always make sense to me. What a completely frustrating and trying process. And what if I go through this refining process of sorts only to learn that I'm just part of the dross?

I have been identifiably and tragically changed. I'm not the same; I am the one that has changed. I'm not the same person I was three years ago, not the same person I was five years ago or even a year ago. If I recognize change in certain situations, it's because I have changed, not necessarily anyone else. And while the change is good in many instances, my change is also tragic by definition which speaks to the depth of those alterations. Healthy growth of the human heart and soul is desirable and recommended. With those healthy changes also come the not so healthy. But I'm sure it's safe to say that this is something all humans deal with. That whole "you take the good, you take the bad, you take them both and there ya have, the facts of life" thing.

So it's me that has changed and it's me that needs to make changes. It rests on me. Honestly, I'm just out of energy. Spinning my wheels in directions that I'm not meant to go in and on things that aren't a reality for me. I'm not done with this soul searching; there is still much to decipher. No, I don't believe that I'm a waste. I firmly believe that I am a work in progress and I have a lot of questions along the way. I'm not afraid to ask them and I'm not afraid to be honest. It helps me live this crazy life of mine and be who I was created to be!

It is nice to open my eyes in the morning and know that I'm not who I was yesterday, but I'm who I was created to be today. The junk from yesterday is gone, I let it go. That's the best I can do for now. Today is a new day.

A Week of Firsts

I ate cottage cheese for the first time in my life.
Sam had pneumonia for the first time in my life and his.
Jamie spilled ice-cream, water, and cream soda on the freshly cleaned carpets, all within a 30 minutes time span.
First time I've been 160 days past my 34^th birthday.
Abby screamed and cried more this week than EVER.
I participated in a spin class at the gym where I thought for sure I would breathe my last.
While watching a painter paint a column at said gym, I leaned against the wall to wait; guess he could have told me the wall was still wet.
Come Thursday afternoon, I will be the mother of a middle school boy.

 
So it's officially a week of firsts. A lot of strange things happen to me, anyone that knows me can attest to this. Of course, a lot of strange things happen to you too, but you may not want to tell anyone. I, for one, do not mind telling people of my crazy. There is so much significant about some of these firsts.
I'm a picky eater. My diet does not consist of healthy fare, it's typically as fatty and fried as you can get. I'm finally trying to broaden my horizons and try some new things. I like cheese. Therefore, I should like cottage cheese. I've never eaten before mainly because it looks gross. The consistency freaks me out, but I'm trying it again today.
I don't work-out in public. Well, until recently. It's embarrassing to me, but I suppose an early death leaving my children without their mother would be cruel, so I really need to do what I can to take care of myself. I can get over my embarrassment and do my part to be healthier.
When Sam was 10 days old, he was hospitalized with RSV. There began our journey with a frequently sick little boy. Hundreds of ear infections, bronchitis, cold after cold after cold, and now, pneumonia. It happens and he's getting better.
Jamie is my clumsy child. I really should not fuss at him when he has these episodes—he's just like me. I just get tired of cleaning up my messes AND his messes.
Abby is a diva. We've contributed to that, no doubt. It's my responsibility to rehabilitate her diva tendencies. I can't take the screaming when she doesn't get her way. I've swatted that girls legs so many times in the last couple of days. And in all her defiant glory, she screams some more. Time out works sometimes… she is a different animal from the boys. This is going to be a long process.
I feel particularly old today despite the fact that I know I am not. But with each passing second, minute, hour, day, week, month… I grow more weary. I can't seem to focus on what's happening around me. It's as if I'm driving in a car, on the highway of my life, and when you look out the passenger window, things fly bye so rapidly, you can barely see them sometimes. And once you pass it, it's gone. Just a fading sight in the rearview. Ugh.
So tonight I go out with my 11 year old, 5^th grade soon-to-be graduate and buy him a suit for graduation. Tonight, I will snuggle my 9 year old, accident prone comedian and listen to him crack a silly joke. I'll pick up my daughter and hold her light-as-a-freakin-feather little body and listen to her tell me "I'm her best mama". All is right with the world when I am in their worlds. It's hard to watch them gain their independence. I know that's my job as their mother, but I sure don't like teaching this to them.
*tear*tear*

ps- the paint... it did come out of my pants and yes, it got it on my booty.  Naturally. Makes sense that I should draw more attention to my self by walking through the gym with paint on my can.  It was funny, so I can't be mad at the weirdo painter who failed to warn me.  

 

 

 

 

 

trying to find my voice (original 1.19.11)

i cried the night i saw it on Glee.  the story line definitely hit me-- i really hate it when that happens!  i've heard the song a hundred times before; always thought it was beautiful, but that particular night it was different.  i connected.  i shed a few tears and inside my chest, quietly buried beneath a tough exterior, my little heart broke into thousands of small pieces.

andrea sent Glee music to me for my birthday. during my regular commute home, this song began to play.  i turned the volume up as i recognized the music.  such a gorgeous melody.  a perfect marriage of beauty, tenderness, sadness and pain. i cried again.  the song just makes me sad, but it's an oddly beautiful sadness.

i've held so many dreams in my lifetime.  i remember a time when i believed anything was possible; the days of my youth where life seemed limitless!  so unaware.  my naivete gave me a constant smile;  it told me all people were good, things would always turn out right...  it was as if i had no idea of my own vulnerability and no clue that any danger existed at all.  oh how life really chews up our naivete, rips our innocence to shreds, and kills our dreams.

i don't write or talk much about my adoption.  some days, i don't think too much about it, but some days i do. the older i get, the more difficult it has become to communicate with people what i feel.  it's like a vast canyon that at times is filled with life giving water and other times empty and so dry, nothing could live there.  when i try to explain what i feel or what i think, i can't.   it's like being on an hunting expedition for the rare and hard to find words that may be able to describe what i feel inside. even if i did find the rare words and if i did speak those words, it would be as if i was speaking a foreign language to most.

i love finding quotes.  there are time when the words of others have the ability to give a good glimpse into what i'm feeling, but i can't even use the word formulations of others to articulate the feelings within.  i'm comforted by the reality that music speaks what words cannot and transcends any language barrier.  there are times the music tells the story far better the lonely words ever could.  victor hugo is quoted as saying "music expresses that which cannot be put into words and cannot remain silent."   oh to hear a melody, a meeting of musical notes, each note carrying a meaning of it's own, blending perfectly to tell a story that you could not tell or could not understand otherwise. 

in this song is a beautiful sadness.  a nostalgic reminiscences of moments past with the beauty of the dreams you once held compounded with the certainty that there are hurts in life--no matter how much you wish they didn't exist. and a reality that some dreams will just be that--dreams.

i haven't been able to sing in months. when i find my voice, this is the song i'll sing.  for now, these two communicate what i wish i could far better than i...

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high and life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving

Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
(But the tigers come at night)
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
(As they tear your hope apart)
And they turn your dream to shame

And still I dream she'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed

.
so,  i found a song that expresses some of what i feel inside. this particular song speaks to a quiet sadness inside, but it leaves out an important part of my story because my story isn't all sad.  there is a lot of happiness inside as well.  i'm not sure you can have happiness without sadness or sadness without happiness.   it seems the two are mutually dependent on one another.  i'm thankful that deep within my sometimes broken heart, there is not only a beautiful sadness but a healing happiness as well.

My Life Song

When I turned my radio on at work, Something Beautiful was just beginning.  Deep cleansing breath—oh man, God is so good!  This song is my life song, my anthem.  Much like the Rainbow promise, it has come to represent all of God's promises tied up in a wildflower bouquet handed to me by the almighty Creator.  This song reminds me that God is moving, he is working, and he is with me.  It speaks to the depths of my soul—underneath all the mess, I trust God will honor my commitment to him.   While the circumstances surrounding my life aren't beautiful by any means, I've being totally consumed by Jesus. His presence almost takes my breath away! Through the tears and the pain, there is a beautiful plan for my life—that is the promise I will not let go of!  It's what gets me out of bed in the morning and helps me press on through the day.

 

When the day is done and I lay my head on my pillow, my conversations with Jesus vary.  I talk about how I feel - what makes me sad and what makes me happy.  All the while, I fully realize that it really isn't about me at all.  Sure, I hurt—I've lost a friend or two over the last year and I've taken quite a beating.  What an incredibly painful process all the way around. What really strikes me is that these losses haven't been due to death or relocation.   If I were to pinpoint a reason, I would place an X in the box marked "broken relationship due to inability to love unconditionally".  Recognizing your responsibility or your portion of the blame in a broken relationship is so hard.  But along with that recognition, I also see that it very much takes two committed individuals to be in a relationship.   

 

When it comes to right and wrong, I have no problem accepting my turn at the blame table.  Put a dunce cap on my head and place a placard around my neck that reads "IT'S ALL MY FAULT."  I do that well! (It's innate; I am a professional Blame Carrier.) I can say that I'm better and stronger for accepting my role in relationship dysfunction.  We all mess up and when we create relationship dysfunction, we should always seek forgiveness and do our part to work towards restoration- if that is how God leads you.

But what happens after all that? What happens after you take your turn at the blame table and wear the placard the time period of your sentence and then forgiveness isn't granted?  What happens when whoever you are in a relationship with refuses to waive the wand of forgiveness, hence dubbing you as Forgiven? 

If we are capable of unconditional love, what happens when we refuse to love each other unconditionally?

I've had a glimpse of that. 

 

Here's what I think happens: We take all the grace we have been given and we bottle it up; cap it tightly and seal it in an airtight container.  With our bottle of grace, we take a little car ride—heading to the bank. Once there, our signature is placed on the appropriate line and a one of kind key is presented for authentication. The vault doors are unlocked and we enter.  While in the vault, we take that air tight container filled with the grace we had been given and it is tucked neatly and efficiently in a safe deposit box.  While we're there, we also decide that the bottle of mercy we've been carrying around in our bag, carefully sealed the same way as the bottle of grace, needs to be deposited as well-- just to be on the safe side.  Nobody's going to get that grace or mercy!  Not without the appropriate signature or one of kind key.

 

When I think of it this way, it really makes me so sad.  For a Jesus follower, why would we hoard grace and mercy?  Why would we deny others the same things we were freely given?  And what leaves us to decide who deserves grace or mercy?  I'm very curious about this. 

 

In the same vein, what leaves us to decide who is worthy of our love and who is not?  Are we not all humans, created by God himself?  Are we all not loved by God?  If so, then why can't we love one another?

It's a dirty rotten game we humans like to play.  Somehow in our simplistic, egotistical, human being pea-brains, we've decided we know better than God.  Somewhere along the line, we've decided who is valuable, who is loveable, who deserves grace, mercy and who deserves forgiveness.  How heart-breaking and sad.

Regardless, God loves us.  He created us and he wants us!  When the thought crosses your brain and you feel that humans don't want you or have no use for you, let it be a fleeting thought.  Kick it out of your head!  God wants you and he most definitely has a purpose for your life!  Forget the humans, we are incapable of reading God's thoughts and we can't speak for him. 

 

What is He whispering in your ear?  When you sit and chat with Jesus, what is he saying to you?  How does he treat you?  I believe that when we are able to see Jesus for who he truly is, we will see his love and tenderness that you have probably never see.  You will find acceptance in His eyes.  When wrapped in his arms, you will feel the grace and mercy flow from him—it is palpable and it is life changing.

So what's your anthem?  What reminds you of God's promises?  Are you hung up on what people think, do, and say or are you focused on what Jesus is saying?

I once was blind

But now I see

I once was lost

But now I'm found

When I was down

You came around

You picked me up and carried me through the long dark night

There is nowhere I'd rather be

Then right next to You…

 

© 2010 Melissa Meador Wilson

What's Logic Got To Do With It?

What is logic?

Logic: 1. Theory of reasoning; 2. System or instance of reasoning; 3. Sensible argument and thought

It seems that I’ve been plopped down in a very interesting position. When I had the realization that all the events of the last several months have been leading me to this moment, it was almost like an A HA moment. But based on what I’ve been reading…

Forgotten God by Francis Chan

180: Stories of People Who Changed Their Lives By Changing Their Minds by The House Studios

The Tangible Kingdom by Hugh Halter and Matt Smay

Seizing Your Divine Moment by Erwin McManus

… anyway, it seems that it’s all been leading up to what I am willing to call a Divine-180-Moment-for-the-Kindgom- of- God-Unforgotten!

Whew… what a process

My story is real, tried and true. I hope I can find ways to better explore my heart and detail my journey, but for now, this is where I am at 12:30am, this very moment:

So much swirling around in my head…

Question: How does logic work as it relates to Jesus?

Maybe I’ve gone at this all wrong. If I try to place Jesus in a logical box, will it work? I really think that when you follow Jesus, sometimes logic isn’t the logical choice. Sometimes the reason isn’t reasonable and the commonsensical makes no sense whatsoever. Here’s the deal: logic, reason and common sense require a human brain. They are human processes.

To use logic, we take facts- the proven. We try to evaluate what is in our hands and figure out what is the best use of said object in hand.

To use reason, we look for explain or justify.

To use common sense, we use practicality based on experiences.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth.

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same.

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

~Robert Frost, The Road Not Taken (1915)

So I’m curious how many people read the words of Frost and get all puffed up the end and say to “Self, aren’t you glad we took the road less traveled?” Or some folks find themselves saying “Self, I’d sure like to be like the fellow to take the less traveled.”

I’m curious, but I’m kind of thinking that most humans would read Frost and do one of three things:

1.) long for the less traveled

2.) convince your brain that you are on the less traveled

3.) honestly admit the logical choice was to remain on the well traveled path

How many people find themselves at the point where the “next logical step” should be A, but for some odd reason, they choose B? And in making that choice, the perpetrator knows full well that in choosing B, they give up A and their sanity. It’s hard when you know you will be the one that everyone whispers about and gossips about… “Did you hear about Melissa? What was she thinking? Any reasonable person would know better!”

(Okay, let’s get real: I know that people will talk about me whether I’m making a logical decision or not. It’s called being human and for some reason-- un-divine reason--we like to talk about others.)

So in the middle of my Divine-180-Moment-for-the-Kindgom- of- God-Unforgotten, I am ecstatic! The decisions that I’m ready to make and the journey that I am embarking on will not make any sense to anybody. That’s okay with me.

Enter FREEDOM. Sweet, holy freedom!

I have come to believe that when we follow Jesus, accurately follow, He calls us to things that don’t make sense in our human brains. Does God use logic, reason, and common sense? I can’t say that he won’t use it, but does he need it? As God, no, I don’t think he needs them. As humans, I think it’s more than likely that he gave us these human processes and they are processes that He can use within us.

I can see where and when God has allowed me to use common sense—based on experience, I’m not going to reach out to pet the dog that has bitten me twice already. I’ll smile and say “Nice puppy,” but keep my hands to myself-- keep on walking, Mel. I can also see where God has allowed me to use logic—especially when I don’t need emotion or my whimsical side to make the call. And God allows me to use reason—when something needs an explanation or justification.

I’m not saying these aren’t processes that God cannot use or that they aren’t even God given processes. But what if, just what if, we stopped looking for the next logical step. What happens when I stop looking for the logical, reasonable, and sensible? What if Jesus is saying “It isn’t going to make sense, stop trying to make sense of it,”?

I had an interesting conversation tonight with Jeff and Jesus. As I lay in the bed, so very close to drowsing off, Jeff knelt on the other side of the bed asking me to pray with him. We’ve been trying to figure out “what to do”. So I did what I do best. I invited Jesus to sit with us, of course I figured he was already there, but I wanted to make sure. I closed my eyes and invited Jeff to do the same… I sensed Jesus was with us…

There He sat, with his back against the footboard and legs out stretched opposite of mine, crossed at the ankles.

“How can we help?” Jeff asked.

Tears welled up in my eyes and my heart started pounding. His presence is peaceful, but I don’t know what he’s going to say.

“We just want to know what we can do for You,” Jeff reiterated.

Slowly, the tears that were welling poured out of my eyes. There I sat with my husband and my Jesus. It was beautiful!

“It just doesn’t make sense! People already say some crazy stuff about us, if this is what you’re asking us to do, they are going to have a ball with this!” Jeff said and I added a little chuckle.

“Oh believe me, I know what they say and I know it doesn’t make sense to you, but if you want to help, this is it,” Jesus replied.

“Can you give us a sign?” Jeff asked.

Jesus laughed, “What does your heart say to do?”

Long silence.

“Then do it,” Jesus kindly, but firmly said.

I heard him once again say “will you follow me?”

Another silent pause.
“Yes, we’ll follow,” I said.

“Can you tell us where we’re going?” Jeff inquired.

Jesus laughed. ( Jeff possesses the gift of keeping all things light.)

So no, it may not be the next logical step. It may not make sense to anyone or appear to be remotely  reasonable. But I really believe that when I agreed to follow Jesus, He called me to put logic away. It just may not be logical.

He’s so much bigger than logic and reason… it’s almost too much for my little brain to comprehend….

I Would If I Could but I Can’t So I Won’t

Dear Friend:

I hope when you read this, you will know this is for you. This is a message from Jesus. No, he doesn't need me to tell you anything, but he does use me to encourage your faith. I hope your heart is wide open, your ears are clear, and your mind focused on Him.

I know things have been difficult lately. You carry a heavy load some day with many thought and fears. You can allow yourself to be anxious at times. You shed tears on occasion beneath the weight of all you carry. I'm so sorry your load is heavy today. And on top of it, it's raining on you.

Well listen, you've got a friend in me. I'm always going to be here for you. When the rain drops fall one by one and you feel all alone, I'm willing to walk in the rain with you. I'll try to remember an umbrella. I know you want to hide; the pain is overwhelming, but you're alone when you hide. No, I can't stop the rain- I would if I could, but I can't, so I won't. But I have hugs to give, with lots of love to offer.

You didn't do anything to deserve this. Do not let anyone tell you otherwise. The rain falls on all of us. The storms come along and we are all victim to the dark clouds and torrential down pours. It's a fact of life! But know this: you are dearly loved. You are a precious child of an almighty King. He loves you and adores you. He doesn't like to see the rain fall on you. In fact, he's sad when you're sad.

Listen, I can't make the rain stop. I don't even have an umbrella big enough to really shelter you, but I will be with you. I will stand beside you through the storm, until the rain stops. I promise. I believe in you. I love you. I know that this storm, this rain, is nothing. You've got this.

Don't give up.

Don't hide.

When the rain comes, He's there beside you. He's way better than me, but I'll be there beside you too.


I love you, friend.
~Melissa


When the Rain Comes
by THIRD DAY

Letting Go

T.D. Jakes   (with my thoughts in italics)



There are people who can walk away from you.      You don't say.

And hear me when I tell you this! When people can walk away from you: let them walk. I don't want you to try to talk another person into staying with you, loving you, calling you, caring about you, coming to see you, staying attached to you. I mean hang up the phone.    But isn't that cruel?

When people can walk away from you let them walk. Your destiny is never tied to anybody that left.  But maybe it's my fault, maybe I made them walk away.  Maybe I can fix it!

The bible said that, they came out from us that it might be made manifest that they were not for us. For had they been of us, no doubt they would have continued with us. [1 John 2:19]  So if they were really connected to us, they wouldn't have considered walking away?  I don't get it.

People leave you because they are not joined to you. And if they are not joined to you, you can't make them stay.

Let them go.

And it doesn't mean that they are a bad person it just means that their part in the story is over. And you've got to know when people's part in your story is over so that you don't keep trying to raise the dead. You've got to know when it's dead.  But what if it's not really dead?  What if I walk away and by walking away, I kill it?

You've got to know when it's over. Let me tell you something- I've got the gift of good-bye. It's the tenth spiritual gift, I believe in good-bye. It's not that I'm hateful, it's that I'm faithful, and I know whatever God means for me to have He'll give it to me. And if it takes too much sweat I don't need it. Stop begging people to stay.  Oh but that goes against everything I was taught to believe!

Let them go!!

If you are holding on to something that doesn't belong to you and was never intended for your life, then you need to...LET IT GO!!!   How do I know if it was never intended for me?

If you are holding on to past hurts and pains…LET IT GO!!!  I try, believe me I try, but somehow they wind up jumping in my path over and over.

If someone can't treat you right, love you back, and see your worth...LET IT GO!!!   But what if it's really my fault?  Maybe I didn't love them the right way?  Maybe I'm not worth it?

If someone has angered you…LET IT GO!!!   But what if I deserve their anger?

If you are holding on to some thoughts of evil and revenge...LET IT GO!!!   Those thoughts are fleeting.

If you are involved in a wrong relationship or addiction...LET IT GO!!!

If you are holding on to a job that no longer meets your needs or talents…LET IT GO!!!  But what about my kids?  How will I feed them? Or clothe them?  They need a home and food and shelter... they need sane, healthy parents.  Why do I deserve to have my needs met?  Will anyone really benefit from my talents?  Maybe I don't have talents?

If you have a bad attitude...LET IT GO!!!

If you keep judging others to make yourself feel better...LET IT GO!!!If you're stuck in the past and God is trying to take you to a new level in Him...LET IT GO!!!


If you are struggling with the healing of a broken relationship…LET IT GO!!!  I'd love for the relationships to heal, but doesn't that take both sides in the relationship to seek healing?  Why do I walk away from that?


If you keep trying to help someone who won't even try to help themselves…LET IT GO!!!  But I thought we should never give up trying?


If you're feeling depressed and stressed…LET IT GO!!!  Can't I just take medication for that?


If there is a particular situation that you are so used to handling yourself and God is saying 'take your hands off of it,' then you need to…LET IT GO!!! 


'The Battle is the Lord's!'


----------------------------------------------------

I think the concept of Letting Go quite possibly goes against what I have been taught. Now, I have been taught to let go of "sin, hurt, pain, bitterness, anger, etc". But I've never been taught that I should let go of people who walk away.


Throughout my lifetime, I've had some experience in more ways than one with people who have walked away. They just decide they don't love me, they don't like me, they don't need me and they walk away. The hardest part about some of that “walking away” business is that some of those folks led me to believe that it's entirely my fault they chose to walk away. And I do recognize that in some of the situations, the Deceiver led me to that belief.

I guess I’m learning a difficult lesson today. It could be that God wants me to let them walk. He wants me to say “it was fun while it lasted” or “thanks for the memories”. He could be saying this chapter is closing and it’s time to begin the next chapter and IT’S OKAY TO LET GO!


I desperately want to understand this concept. In the meantime…


Love never gives up.

Love cares more for others than for self.

Love doesn't want what it doesn't have.

Love doesn't strut,

Doesn't have a swelled head,

Doesn't force itself on others,

Isn't always "me first,"

Doesn't fly off the handle,

Doesn't keep score of the sins of others,

Doesn't revel when others grovel,

Takes pleasure in the flowering of truth,

Puts up with anything,

Trusts God always,

Always looks for the best,

Never looks back,

But keeps going to the end.

~1 Corinthians 13

Rehabilitated Misery

Tired.  Just plain tired.

Ever get messages from God, clearly marked messages from God?  Of course, you may not realize at first, but later the pieces start fitting together.  You have that "A HA" of a moment when you realize that two paths converged and in their connection, you got a message. 

My message from last week started as friends near and far sent out notes of kindness and love to my family and I.  At first, it felt all warm and fuzzy, "I do have some really good friends."  But then I started seeing how they kind words from all kinds of friends, some who don't even know each other, started to come together to make a lovely little piece of art. 

It all started with part of an encouraging note from a friend:

"I tell you now that your ministry is where your misery has been. That same spot that made you cry and moan is where you can bring honor and healing to those who are touched with the same pain."

So, I did a little research.  The quote comes from TD Jakes.  And I found more…

"God takes the broken and the wounded and rehabilitates them so that they can be clinicians of healing and instruments of life. You want to know what to do with your life. You are stuck on the steps in a job that is not fulfilling, and you are getting older and want to do something that matters to you. Fulfillment is not always a matter of income. It means a lot when you can lie down at night and know that what you did today made a difference in someone's life. I tell you now that your ministry is where your misery has been. That same spot that made you cry and moan is where you can bring honor and healing to those who are touched with the same pain. This is the spot where your compassion will skyrocket, and you can help the next generation of victims to get out of their beds and walk."

"The challenge is to reach a place of healing where you can discuss what was once a silent frustration. When you can vent it, that frustration turns to wisdom. It is at that point that you reach outside of yourself and give to others that ministry come homes to you."

"There comes a point when you have received enough help that you are no longer on the critical list. The moment you can get up, it is good to do so. You can gain strength by helping others ... You will never become a minister as long as you lie in the hospital bed yourself. Get up and help someone else survive what you endured. There are so many people who need the bed you are in. You must give it to them and become a part of the solution instead of the problem. That, within itself, is a therapy."

So, yes, I'm experiencing a bit of pain in my life.  And I'm tired.  I'm very tired.

But my ministry- my service- could very well be where my misery has been.   I could potentially take what I've learned and use it to help others.  Not really a new concept, but it's difficult especially when you look at the word MISERY. 

I guess I've got a big choice to make.   Am I going to use my misery properly or abuse it? 

Misery can take you to a very dark place filled with anger and bitterness and eventually, hatred.   If misused, misery could kill anything and everything that comes in contact with it.  You can forget about joy and love and peace… misery will murder them.  It won't be a quick death; it will be a slow, painful, torturous death. 

But if one is able to harness the right energy and power, misery could change.   Misery could be rehabilitated.   Misery could be refocused and repurposed. 

My misery has been repurposed for ministry.   
Interesting…

Rain

Crying, broken, scared, hurting… the storm is all I know. It’s all I can see.

Carry me. Love me. Comfort me.

"Then I said to you, "Do not be terrified; do not be afraid of them.  The LORD your God, who is going before you, will fight for you, as he did for you in Egypt, before your very eyes,  and in the desert. There you saw how the LORD your God carried you, as a father carries his son, all the way you went until you reached this place."

Chaos.

When I saw the look on Jamie's face, I knew it well.  "Just like his mother," said my husband.  The look of sheer confusion and frustration. When he started fidgeting with his arms and running his hand over his head, I knew the tears could fall at any moment-- he had had enough.

The game began at 8:30am on Saturday morning.  The boys were so excited for this their very first basketball game.  Uniforms- check.  Shoes- check.  Deodorant- check (thanks, mom.)  So they had not had enough sleep the night before the big game, that's was okay.  They were ready!

Whistle blows and they're off!

Running up and down the court, trying to dribble, not double dribble, but just dribble.  Trying hard not to travel and trying not to have every pass stolen... it was a difficult first game for the boys and their teammates.  Nearing the end of the 3 quarter, I saw the look on Jamie's face.  He was tired, but it was more than that.

Oh the chaos!  You see, he had two coaches in front of him coaching.  He had the well meaning referee behind him every step, gently instructed with that ear piercing whistle.  To the right, the loud fans from the other team.  To the left, the mom, dad and fans from his team.  From ever angle, there were voices loudly "speaking" to Jamie-- echoing throughout the gym. Even though he knew the coach's voice, he still had others shouting "Pass the ball!" and "Dribble!" and "Rebound!" and "GO!" and then the fans from the other team cheering for point after point.  Not to mention, the other team always in his face, right there every step on the court not wanting him to do what he wanted to do.  Do you know how overwhelming that is? 

I thought of this in my own life and began to twitch.  When the chaos sets in when you just get so frustrated at everyone telling you what to do.  Your body begins to crawl with frustration and you'd just as soon run out of the building then do whatever it is you're supposed to be doing. Obviously, I don't play basketball, but I do know what it is like to have so many voices shouting out  to me.  I don't want to listen to all the voices who think they know what I should do, I want that one voice who knows what I need to do.  I want to hear my coach and noone else.  There is only room in my head for one voice and all the rest is a major distraction. Does life ever feel that way for you?  You just reach the point  where you want to scream "SHUT UP!" so you can just hear the one voice you have been training with all along.  You need to hear the coach, he's got the plan.

I'm sure with time and lot's more practice, Jamie will learn how to focus on his coach's voice.  With time, he will be able to drown out all the background noise so the coach is the only one he hears.  With time, the frustration, confusion and even anxiety will subside.  With time, he won't notice the voices of distraction.

I feel like Jamie did that Saturday morning.  I've tried so hard to focus, and hear the words of the Coach.  I just know he's there and he's giving me the game plan, but everyone is so loud.  I can't hear Him over the crowd!  I need more practice.  I need more time focusing on the voice of my Coach.  If I can't hear Him, there is no one I'm going to be able to succeed in this game.   

Stop. Focus.  Listen.  Deep breath.  I've been training for this! I can't let the impending chaos and the empty voices of distraction send me running for the door.

"You must have chaos within you to give birth to a dancing star.”  ~Friedrich Nietzsche

(Really?  I'll have to think about that quote.)

Copyright ©  2009 brokensidewalks

hope is fading

Dear hope,

I am holding you in my hand, but I’m afraid I’m going to lose you. I’ve tried so hard to hang on to you, to believe even when the odds were stacked high against you! There was a time I believed you were invincible and unbreakable. Now you appear so fragile. It seems as if you could break at any moment, shatter into millions of little pieces. Oh if you were to break, I don’t know if I could put you back together again. Please don’t leave me, hope. Without you, I am nothing. I need you! You keep my eyes open, my heart open, my hands and feet moving—you are air and without you I will surely die. Hang on to me, hope. Hang on tight… please don’t let me go!  ~Melissa

hope: hoped, hop•ing, hopes
1. To wish for something with expectation of its fulfillment.
2. Archaic To have confidence; trust.
v.tr.
1. To look forward to with confidence or expectation: 2. To expect and desire.
n.
1. A wish or desire accompanied by confident expectation of its fulfillment.
2. Something that is hoped for or desired: Success is our hope.
3. One that is a source of or reason for hope: the team's only hope for victory.
4. often Hope Christianity The theological virtue defined as the desire and search for a future good, difficult but not impossible to attain with God's help.
5. Archaic Trust; confidence.
Idiom:
hope against hope
To hope with little reason or justification.

Peter 1:6-8
So be truly glad! There is wonderful joy ahead, even though the going is rough for a while down here… You love God even though you have never seen him; though not seeing him, you trust him; and even now you are happy with the inexpressible joy that comes from heaven itself. 1 Peter 1:6, 8 [TLB]
6-7I know how great this makes you feel, even though you have to put up with every kind of aggravation in the meantime. Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it proved pure; genuine faith put through this suffering comes out proved genuine. When Jesus wraps this all up, it's your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of his victory.
8-9You never saw him, yet you love him. You still don't see him, yet you trust him—with laughter and singing. Because you kept on believing, you'll get what you're looking forward to: total salvation. [The Message]

Published... well kinda sorta

I wrote this back in July following a difficult life experience. I submitted it last month to an online magazine and they posted it. Thought I'd share it if you'd like to read it:

Curled Up With Jesus

I spent the day curled up in the lap of Jesus. As I listened to the steady cadence of his heartbeat, and the soothing rhythm of his chest rising and falling with each breath he took- I found the comfort I was desperate for. I’ve never been so close to him before and for that I am very ashamed. Of course, the reason that led me to the lap of Jesus leaves me ashamed as well. I ran there. I ran away from a problem that was so huge, there was nowhere else to go and I found myself wishing that I’d run there every day in either my happiness or my sadness.

I’m sitting at the feet of Jesus now. I’m listening to him speak—I seem so small here, yet significant. His left hand rests lightly on my head and I can feel his electricity full of love and compassion. He’s smiling at me, tears in his eyes. I am mesmerized by his face. The sound of his voice is as calming as the aroma cookies baking in the oven. The sound of his voice drifts in and out of my head, steadying my heart. His tears sparkle in the corner of his eyes and occasionally one runs down his cheek. He is happy that I’m here. He’s been waiting a long time for me.

I sense that there is so much he wants to say to me. His words, however, are not rushed and they are gentle. He stops speaking audibly and there is a beautiful silence that I recognize from my youth. When I close my eyes, I am standing outside in the woods behind my childhood home and there isn’t a soul around. The wind is gliding through the leaves, rustling them slightly. The sun has peaked through the tallest trees, hitting every other leaf on its way down to me. I’m overwhelmed as it seems as if the trees and rocks and the wind, the stream even… they all speak in their own way. I breathe deeply, inhaling the life that surrounds. Aware of my dream, I open my eyes again and I look at him curiously. I know what he’s saying, yet his mouth isn’t moving and no sound is coming from him. As I look into his eyes, I know what he wants me to know. Pleasant and frightening at the same time. He has always been with me, he has always spoken to me—somehow I lost my way.

We’re audibly talking again. As he speaks, he moves his hands. I talk with my hands, too, but this is different. My eyes fall on the wounds—I can see them and all of the sudden I am overcome with guilt and shame as I’m fully aware that those are my wounds. What have I done? Why am I here? I don’t deserve to be this close. The pain that led me here pales horribly in comparison to his pain. I begin to weep. Sobbing. Deep, guttural sounds that frighten me even though I know they are coming from within me. I am so unworthy.

But something really beautiful is happening now. He’s picking me up. He lifts me to his chest like a father lifts his injured child. Yet he does it with such ease and strength. His left arm is behind my back and his right arm under my legs as my limbs fall heavily over his arm. My head falls against his chest and I’m still sobbing. I can’t hold my head up. He cradles me and I feel like a small child. The electricity is palpable and then I hear it…

He begins to sing to me. It’s the most beautiful song I have ever heard. I am completely broken in the arms of Jesus and he’s singing over me. His warm tears have rolled from his beautiful face, landed on my face, and mingled with my tears. They fall one by one. With each note he sings and with each tear that falls, peace slowly begins to surround my brokenness. There isn’t anywhere else I’d rather be. I’m safe here. I’m loved here. I’m forgiven here. I don’t want to leave.

Copyright ©  2009 Melissa Meador Wilson