Personal Psalm

A few months ago, I was challenged to write my own psalm of remembrance. It was supposed to be an exercise of praise, worship and discovery, but because I have to know EVERYTHING about EVERYTHING before I can start ANYTHING, I researched it and over analyzed it, wrote a bunch of things that made little to no sense at all. I started thinking it wasn't for me. Then after reading through the Psalms and spending time in prayer about what it is I needed to remember, I started writing things down. I was surprised at how freely it came, and while it's not quite poetry or even really a psalm, I think I accomplished the goal.

I remember walking close
I could feel your warmth
I could hear your voice
I knew your presence

I remember peace in chaos.
I remember joy in trial.
I remember purpose in the mundane.
I saw you everywhere.

I knew you.
I knew me.
I knew where I was headed.
The future was bright.

I remember walking away.
I could feel the cold creep in.
Your voice got lost in the silence.
I chose the cold because I couldn’t face the pain.

I remember forgetting.
Forgetting your peace.
Forgetting your purpose.
Forgetting the future you ordained for me.

Everywhere I looked I saw gray.
In each sunrise I saw pain.
In every moment I felt hopelessness.
I didn’t want to think about the future.
I didn’t want to think about you.

I remember darkness.
I remember cold.
I remember numbness.

I felt no pain.
I felt no joy.
I felt no purpose.
I felt no hope.

I remember falling apart.
I remember the voices of your people, praying, encouraging, crying over me.
I could feel you using them to pull me out of the darkness.
Slowly I chose to reach out.
Slowly I began to reach up.

I remember feeling the first ray of light on my face.
I remember gaining warmth with every step.
I could hear your voice again.
I heard you calling me out.

Back to your presence.
Back to your peace.
Back to your joy.
Back to your purpose.

I remember facing the pain.
I remember facing my sin.
I remember facing You again.
I remember heartache like I’ve never known before.

In this sorrow I found repentance.
I found hope.
I found life.
I found the real me.
I found my way again.

Keep me walking close.
Never let me walk away.
Show me how to bask in your warmth.
Teach me to listen to your voice.
Show me how to embrace your presence.

So I can once again have peace in chaos.
Joy in trial.
Purpose in the mundane.

I remember you.
Never let me forget.

Here is Love

Here Is Love: The Love Song of the Welsh Revival
Written in 1876 by William Rees and Robert Lowry
(Me singing and playing)

Getting to Know my Heart

The heart is deceitful above all things,

and desperately wicked; who can know it?

Jer. 17:9

I memorized this verse as a child. It is one of the few that survived the memory collapse that accompanied the birth of my children. While I've known it and had it on file in my memory, I have to say I have never really understood it.

There were some major events in my life a few years back that sparked a desire in me to be real. I wanted the outside to match the inside. There's a common worship song that says "consume me from the inside out, Lord," and I made that my prayer. This accompanied a realization that being a hypocrite isn't being a Christian who sins, but being a sinner who pretends to be righteous. I found myself playing a role not just with my family, friends and church, but with my God, too. There were two different people living in my skin, and one of them had to go. While this struggle is ongoing, I felt the need to post about the most recent developments.

I have begun praying over the course of the past few months for God to reveal to me the contents of my heart. I want to 'know' my heart the way He does. After all, if you don't see a problem, you can't fix it, right? I had no idea what I was praying or how the answer would play out, and I can't say if I had known I would have gone through with it.

I'm not the kind of person that gets embarrassed easily, and anyone who knows me knows I'm an open book. There's no such thing as TMI with me. You can't gross me out or embarrass me. It's just not possible after three kids and 30 years of foot-in-mouth disease. What I'm about to share doesn't really qualify as TMI, but it is probably TMH, too much honesty. I'm actually a little scared of hitting the publish button and sending this out into cyberspace. My hope, though, is that if there's someone else out there that is struggling with these kinds of things, maybe this post will help them through it, too.

If you've heard my testimony, you've probably heard me say "I accepted Jesus as my Savior when I was 6 years old, and I've never doubted that He is who He says He is and that He did what He said He did." Well, that's not really true. I did accept Christ as my Savior at 6, and up until the last time I said those words, I did mean that I had never doubted. However, God has been showing me one truth at a time that my Christian walk has been plagued with doubt.

During one of my pastor's sermons a few months ago, he shared his own struggle with doubt, and what God has done in his life. This sermon kind of set up the foundation for this quest to know my heart, and it was during this sermon that God gave me the first answer to my prayer.

1. I don't really believe God can change people.

That truth hit me like a wrecking ball. If I'd been in an audible conversation with someone who had brought up the subject, my defense would have gone much like this. "Yes. I do too believe. Look what He's done in my husband's life. Look what He's done in mine. I do too believe." However, I wasn't having a conversation with someone else who couldn't see my heart. I was arguing with the Spirit that sees all. That's when that still small voice felt as if it was booming through a megaphone. Humbled, crumpled in my chair, I had to admit I didn't really believe. If I did believe, I wouldn't spend my life in fear of the next time the bottom would fall out. Or wondering when the attempted change would fail? When would it all fall apart? Right there, plain as day, I was realizing that I'd been living my life holding my breath.

I remember thinking I felt like the father of the demonized boy in Mark 9. "I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief."

I thought that was tough enough, but God wasn't done. There was more to be revealed.

My mom sent me an email one day. The subject was God loves you, and in the body, she said “God knows what we need, and He provides it.” Before I could filter my thoughts, I said to myself, “No. He doesn’t.” And, there it was, another ugly truth about my heart and what I truly believe.

2. I don't really believe God loves me and provides for me.

I struggle and hurt. I work hard and long. I just can't seem to get ahead. I guess the best way to describe how a healthy American stay at home mom could feel this kind of ungrateful disbelief is that I've suffered and struggled so long, I just don’t believe in God's love and provision anymore. I pretend I’m ok. Tell the world I love God and believe He’s mighty and loving, but inside I feel abandoned and forgotten. If God loved me, why have all these things happened? Where's my happy ending? Why am I still struggling?

This was harder to swallow than the first truth God revealed. This went against what I thought about myself, what I told others, who I thought I was. How many times have I told someone else, "God will take care of you. He has always taken care of me." I was starting to see the hypocrisy of my life. I was starting to see where my heart was lying to me and how I was lying to God. However, this was only the first sign of the ungrateful selfish nature of my heart.

I didn't really know what to do with this one. So, I just started praying the same thing I prayed over the last revelation. "I believe, Lord. Help my unbelief."

So, to this point, God had revealed that I didn't believe that he could change people, not my husband, not me, and not anyone of the dozens of people I was praying for. He had shown me that I didn't really believe that He loves me and provides for me. We're not done, yet, though. There's more, and it gets more painful as we go.

While listening to a sermon on the Holy Spirit by one of my favorite podcasted preachers, God showed me yet another truth. He quoted the verses about how if earthly fathers know how to give good gifts to their children, then how much more will our Heavenly Father give good things to His children. In his sermon he talked about how crazy it is to think that a loving father would give his hungry child a stone or live snake to eat. Yes, it does sound crazy, but....Here came that still small voice again. "You don't trust Me." There it is.

3. I didn't really trust God.

Now wait a minute. I do, too. I have to. I.....don't. I don't? [big long pause as I try to face up to this one] My mind races back to prayers asked and answered in painful ways. A prayer for unity in my marriage, I submit in total surrender only to hear my husband say, "I want a divorce." A prayer for healing for my son, a plea to hear the doctor tell us we were jumping to conclusions, begging God to have the doctor say that he would be just fine only to hear the doctor deliver the dream killing diagnosis, "pervasive developmental disorder." [autism] I offer up my defense. "Well, God, you say you know what's best, but when I trust you I get hurt. Surrendering to You means pain. It seems like it always has for me....I can't do this anymore. I don't want to know any more. If I can't believe in Your power to change people, if I can't believe in Your love and provision, if I can't trust you to do what is best for me, then what can I believe and trust in? If I'm just pretending, then what good is it to follow You."

I've had many seasons in life where I've drifted from God, but none quite as lonely as the past week. I felt like He had cut me open and left me to bleed. I didn't pray. I didn't read. I didn't listen to sermons. I hid away from Him, hurting alone.

This past Sunday, I struggled but went to church. I prayed for the first time that week as we got into our seats. "God, I miss you." Our pastor preached on Restoration versus Judgment (it was a very good sermon), but before the sermon even began, the music shattered my hardened heart. "All our wounds, and broken dreams, we lay them down at Calvary. Savior Your grace restores our lives." This last truth about my heart hit fast but softer than the last 3. In that moment I realized that I resent what God has done in my life. I blame Him for my shattered dreams. I haven't forgiven Him for taking them away from me. All of my unbelief and distrust is rolled up into one basic truth,

4. I think God ruined my life.

I had dreamed of full time Christian service since I was 12 years old. That dream was shattered the day I said 'I do.' I had dreamed of completing my MFA and building a successful free lance business. That dream was postponed with the birth of each of my children, and shattered the day my son was diagnosed with PDD. I had dreamed of a life that meant something, something bigger than me, but I gave up. I've lived for years now without a dream. Hopefully as you read these words, you can see where I'm going with this. I'm married. I have three beautiful children. I'm healthy. My husband is healthy. I live in lavish comfort compared to the rest of the world, and I think God ruined my life. I couldn't stop crying. The whole song and some of the sermon, I just sobbed. "Oh, my God, my God, how did I get here." This was one of those prayers that I know the Holy Spirit had to translate for me. I made peace with God though, right there in my seat, in my church, right where I needed to be. For the first time in years, totally honest. Totally broken.

God answered my prayer. He showed me my deceitful, wicked heart (probably just a small part, because He knows how little I can bear at a time). I could see the selfishness, ingratitude, and cruelty I had let fester inside, and I surrendered to His will. Only He can remove those terrible things and make me new.

The cat's out of the bag now. No more pretending to be righteous. No more hypocrisy. No more struggling to accomplish my plans over His. No more holding my breath. No more holding back. It's time to let go. 

You'll have to stay tuned to find out where this goes. I don't know how much more God will show me, but I do know God IS good. God IS love. Jesus is ALL I need, and He IS enough.

My Story

I've often given 'My Story' a lot of thought. What to include, what to leave out. Condensed or detailed. Long or short. More often than not, the answers to these questions are based on my audience. If I'm talking to a mother with small children, then 'My Story' tends to be more about my life as a mom, and it usually gets condensed into tiny digestible bites of information. If I'm talking to another artist, I'll tell more about my artistic style and interests, use more detail and likely go on and on. You get the idea. Well, when I decided to start another blog (crazy since I barely have enough time for the first one Feeding Angels), I decided I needed to write out 'My Story.' The more I tried to force it into some kind of readable format, it just seemed inadequate and awkward. The more I worked at it, the more awkward it sounded. Then after stumbling onto a video from Mars Hill Church about our stories in the light of God's story, I realized the details of my story really aren't that important.

What I heard:

God's earthly story began at creation with one man and one woman, and it will end when God's Kingdom is eternally established on the new earth. His story line, climax and conclusion are never at risk. Man has not done and can not do anything to put God's story at risk. He is in total control. His story will continue as it always has until resolution is reached.

Jesus is the hero. Satan is the villain. The problem lies in the redemption of people who have rebelled and fallen out of the story. They are now in bondage needing to be rescued and brought back into the story. The climax happened at the Cross and the empty tomb.

My story comes in as a scene in God's epic play. I have a walk on part with a few lines, but the part was made for me. The purpose of my scene is to tell God's redeeming story to the audience I've been given.

What I learned:

There are details of my life that I can use to help those struggling around me. Too often, however, I tend to focus on how I was able to persevere and come through my struggles, and I shift the focus as if it is my story I'm telling.

My story in a nutshell....

• I spent years in a struggling marriage and nearly divorced.
• My 4 year old son is autistic.
• I'm a stay at home mother of three with a great desire to contribute to society in a more tangible way.
• I'm a perfectionist who is never able to get things just right.

I could share details of what has happened in my life and what I've done to overcome the obstacles in my path (or whether or not I decided to sit down and have a picnic in the shade of those obstacles). But, my story looks very different when reworked as a scene in God's story.

My scene in a nutshell....

• God has spent years teaching me what covenant means, how to keep my vows even when it hurts. All to help me show my audience God NEVER gives up on us.
• God in His sovereignty gave my son an incurable condition so that His work might be displayed in him. So that my audience might through this work find healing and salvation.
• God has given me the awesome responsibility to train and care for my children 24/7. He's helping me see that the world's definition of contribution is very different from His, and that my children are my VIP audience.
• God gave me great talent and ability for creating order and smooth routines, for seeing and filling needs, for serving, but He wants a relationship with me over everything else. I can't do it all by myself, and I don't have to. My frustration comes when I become too self reliant and too focused on earthly details.When I focus on Him my audience is able to see His peace and power in me in the midst of chaos, and that nothing runs smoother than when He is in control.

 There's a big difference between those two lists, and I can honestly say there is an amazing freedom when we are truly able to rest in His ability to work everything out in the end. I don't need to be the hero of my scene. I certainly don't want to be the villain. The climax for my scene is the day I accepted Christ as my savior, and resolution for me will be the day I meet Him face to face. My part in this epic play is to tell God's story in my scene.

Whatever happens in my life, whether my marriage continues to heal, whether my son continues to develop exponentially, whether I fulfill my calling and somehow have the time and energy I need to accomplish all the tasks on my list, or if it all falls apart, I'll still get my happy ending. And, I know beyond all doubt I'll live happily ever after.

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ,

who according to His great mercy has caused us to be

born again to a living hope through the resurrection of

Jesus Christ from the dead, to obtain an inheritance

which is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade

away, reserved in heaven for you who are protected by

the power of God through faith for a salvation ready to

be revealed in the last time."

1 Peter 1:3-5