GROW!| How are you feeling? | | Posted by Christine on Tuesday, January 17, 2012 at 8:08pm | Feelings…. Whoa whoa whoa feeeeelings…. (wow – remember that song?) What a blast from my past. I think as women we pay way too much attention to feelings. I feel happy, I feel sad, I feel fat, I feel thin. It’s ridiculous. My feelings and my moods can change based on a good movie or a bad hair day.
How are you feeling? It’s a simple question but one that stops me in my tracks after the last few months…
We give so much credence to our feelings, how do we feel about this or that when making decisions every day – in our personal relationships and in our relationship with God.
How I am feeling on any given day about my husband, family or friends should not change how I treat them. I need to love, respect and be kind to them. I need to put them ahead of myself. I know I need too… I just don’t often follow through with it.
Those darn feelings get in the way and blind me to the truth of what is the right thing to do, say and think. The days I feel fat are the days that everything my husband says are turned into feelings of rejection. “He obviously does not love me anymore or he would do this, say that, don’t say that, etc.” If I feel tired – I am short-tempered and snippy. If I feel like a martyr or completely unappreciated (generally brought on after cleaning up after everyone else in my home) – I am seething inside and out, angry and unhappy. Consequently, I negatively impact all those around me by sharing my unhappy mood with anyone within earshot. . All because I “felt” picked on for a while.
I just went through an “I don’t feel God” period for the last 3 months. It was so incredibly tough. Trying to pray, do my bible study, prepare a Sunday school lesson – without the quiet, still voice that speaks to me. I missed hearing hymns when I woke up. (Yes, as strange as it sounds, when the Spirit is really upon me or can’t wait for me to get out of bed to reveal something to me,he sings bible hymns to me. Seriously.) Luckily, I recently mentioned this to a wonderful woman at my church and she smiled and said she also heard hymns. Now I can write it down without someone reading this and making a quick call to the funny farm.
Early in the morning, I would sit with my bible on my lap, steaming cup of coffee on the end table and pray into the silence. No acceptance or condonement was felt. Just stillness; a quiet solitude.
Satan sat on one shoulder, whispering in my ear in a gravelly voice, “He isn’t here with you always. He doesn’t care; he isn’t listening. No need to pray. It won’t matter.” But, there was God’s Word in my hand. Jesus’ promise that while he must leave after the resurrection, the wonderful counselor would come and dwell within me (John 16:7). A psalm reminded me that the Lord holds me by my right hand and guides me with His counsel (Psalm 73:23-24.) Yet another that He sees my going out and my lying down (Psalm 139:3). Still more scripture reminding me that He is always with me (Matthew 28:20).
So I had a decision to make. Do I believe the truth of God’s Word or my feelings (which I know can flicker like a flame in the wind) and are simply not trustworthy.
I choose to believe. The silence continued through the New Year but I kept praying, studying and reading the Word. We have to choose to believe – to put God first and show our love and appreciation for the Almighty. We must be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer (Romans 12:12). Oh yeah, He is there; He never left. He was just waiting for me to quit holding my breath and just believe and fully trust in Him. I feel the full measure of the Spirit right now. But even when I don’t feel His presence - I trust in Him. I believe. He is still there: yesterday, today and always. I just KNOW it.
And how are you feeling?
| | | | | A Perfect Day | | Posted by Christine on Thursday, December 22, 2011 at 6:32am | We awoke together and smiled at each other, had our coffee together and spoke quietly, intimately, laughing and enjoying our special conversation.
We decided to eat together for lunch, preparing a meal while a lively discussion ensued on our plans for the day.
Afterward, we shared time together in a special activity, walking and looking around at the world, marveling at the detail, the enormity, the complexity of it all and yet how it all worked together in harmony.
The joy of each other’s company carried on late into the evening. No unkind words were ever spoken. Patience reigned and respect for the other person kept the mood light and loving. Another meal was shared. We were lit from within in content. All we needed was each other.
I’ve written of my time last Monday with my husband. We had one of those perfect days. We woke up in good moods and spent the most enjoyable day together, went to the new Museum of Natural History, cooked a good dinner together and then watched a movie sitting next to each other on the couch.
A perfect day. It is not easy to achieve. It requires both of us to work together constantly to communicate in love and kindness. It meant we coordinated our schedules for the day to spend time together with each other.
Then it dawned on me. Shouldn’t this same thought, consideration, planning and enjoyment happen each day in my relationship with God?
| | | | | Fudge | | Posted by Christine on Friday, December 9, 2011 at 6:39am | It happens once a year. The sweetest, most incredible concoction makes it annual appearance. Buttery chocolate goodness filled with bits of chopped walnuts magically appears in a pan in my kitchen. Okay, yes, I make it because my husband loves to have a piece at Christmas time. Once in a while. (What?) He has restraint. One piece, every couple of days, that’s all he needs. (How can this be?)
To save myself, I tuck it deep into the recesses of the family fridge and firmly shut the door. Yet, it calls to me. It torments me. If fudge had fingers they would reach out and curl themselves in a beckoning motion, drawing me in until I can no longer resist. It reminds me of an old cartoon where the white silky scent of deliciousness wafts through the air, seeking out its victims, sending its little tendrils of wonderfulness up their nostrils, hooking them in so they are floating on a wave of scent that carries them back to the single, profound dish. All will is lost to those who follow the aroma. And here I am. Again, hand on the handle of the fridge.
I go to the door of the refrigerator yet again. I cannot help myself. I am compelled to reach in, cut out a chunk and try to refrain from gulping in one great bite. Instead, I force myself to nibble away, savoring the goodness and swearing that this time will be my last…
I really know I should not. It’s bad for me and even worse for my hips. It is full of sugar and rots teeth. My head knows the logic. It does the math and the dark, sweet chocolate dish that melts in your mouth adds up to bad + bad = bad.
I reach for a piece. Just one today, I promise myself. It’s noon. Ten hours to go until bed time. I can do it.
It’s 6:30pm. Dinner is done. I need a sweet little something and yes, there it is. ‘Just one little piece’ I say, remembing that I had one little piece earlier. ‘Oh, that’s right’, I reason. ‘I had "half" of a piece – so this is just the other half. Altogether, still one piece.’
Rationalization is a dangerous thing. A week later and five pounds heavier, I am full of remorse. I throw the almost empty remains into the trash can. “There”, I say. Now it is over and I am done. The fudge is gone but the consequences remain. Guilt fills my heart and fills out my jeans, seams now bursting.
If this were sin, I’m sorry to say, my actions would be the same. I purposefully created the situation that could have been avoided, but I chose to go forward anyway. I enjoyed the sin and wanted more of it. It tormented my thoughts and filled my waking hours thinking about it. Knowing that I was already involved with it, I Iet myself carry on instead of backing away. I could have cast it out much sooner and had less damage, but did not call on the right strength to do so. Instead, I ate it up until finally, it sickened me. Now I have remorse, regret and a whole lot of exercise and dieting ahead of me, atonement for my sinful ways.
How incredibly awesome that in Christ, I can ask forgiveness and my sin is washed away. That with the Spirit of God, I can ask for strength to do the things that I cannot do alone. I do not have to work my way to heaven for Christ did it all on the cross. Once. Forever. I may have remorse. I may need to make amends. I may still have to deal with the consequences. But I am forgiven, set free of my sin and strengthened through the Spirit of God. I can go one. I will try again. I can avoid the circumstance that brought me down.
But I was talking about fudge… right?
| | | | | Let's talk turkey... | | Posted by Christine on Thursday, November 24, 2011 at 7:13am | Let’s talk turkey… or more importantly, turkey day, Thanksgiving. The day of giving thanks and being grateful for all that we have in our lives.
It’s 7:30am on Thursday, November 24, 2011. I’m sitting on the couch in my nice warm house, my little cocker spaniel, Eva, curled up at my side, head on my lap. (Yes, this makes it difficult to type on my laptop, which is precariously perched on my knees right now, but so worth it.) Happiness is truly a warm puppy.
But I digress. The turkey is thawed and sitting in the fridge waiting for stuffing and 6 hours of slow heat. Two pumpkin pies are now in the oven and sending out deliriously good scents far better than any pumpkin candle could even comprehend.
Being the “type A” person that I am, a list sits on top of the red breadbox on my counter containing a blow by blow of all things that need to take place today and the time they need to occur: 7:30am – Pies in oven (check); 10am – turkey stuffed and in oven, etc.
I have spent the last three weeks making lists, purchasing food items, contacting relatives to coordinate time, number of said relatives attending dinner and what dish to bring. The table is set (and looks mighty lovely, may I add, covered in a cream tablecloth, gleaming silver wear, yellow and maroon carnations set in a centerpiece with two pale yellow candles in the center.)
The house is (pretty much) cleaned. The beds are filled with my menfolk, my husband and two sons, sleeping away in bedrooms while the kitchen houses a beehive of activity, courtesy of moi.
As I peruse my list, I find one thing missing… actually giving thanks - for my life, my family, my friends, my home, my job, my country and more than anything, for my God.
How could I have missed this? Me, the maker of such meticulous lists that are checked and double-checked? Yet there it is. Or isn't. What should have been on the top of my list with extra stars placed next to it for emphasis is instead missing altogether.
All that I have, all that I am and hope to be should be prostrate on the floor, face down in prayer and offering a grateful, heartfelt thank you to the Lord of Heaven and Earth, the Maker of all things, the Holy One, the Lord Almighty and Great I AM THAT I AM.
And as usual, I blew it. Once again, I got caught up in my busy world and juggling schedules, activities and to do lists. I forgot him. Again.
So now I pay my penitence with everyone reading this as my witness (talk about humbling!)
Father, I am so incredibly grateful for you. You have changed my life, my world, my heart. Forgive me for not putting you first before all things and for being too much of this world. Forgive me for taking for granted the very air I breathe, my warm home filled with the love of a family and for the physical and spiritual family that you surround me with – such incredible love can only come from the inventor of love itself, You. There is none like you and from the deepest part of my heart, I thank you.
Your late, but very grateful servant.
| | | | | Under the fallen snow | | Posted by Christine on Tuesday, November 8, 2011 at 9:27pm | The first snow has fallen, white flakes covering over the dry, brown leaves of fall; all the world looks clean and new in its blanket of sparkling light. Gutters filled with dirt and soot and the limp, gray lifeless plants of summer past are buried under the soft, cold cover, seemingly “swept under the rug” and hidden from view.
But soon enough, the snow melts away and the soggy, black refuse is once again revealed, looking worse than ever.
The same holds true for our lives.
No matter how much I try to be good, to do what is right, to cover my ugliness in determination to be better and do good deeds, I fail. Eventually, the old refuse of my sins is again revealed. Just like the storms that drop the deceitfully pure snow over the land making all things appear clean, so are my resolutions to love everyone, to stop being selfish, to quit judging others and be done with foolish pride. While I may appear free of sin and a good person on an outer level, eventually my sins win out. The snow of foolish deception melts and my true self is revealed.
Thank God for Jesus! “While we were yet sinners, he died for us” (Romans 5:8) No matter how much we try to be good – it won’t work. We are in our very nature a selfish people and we live in a fallen world. I used to that I believed if I was a good person, I would go to heaven. How incredibly arrogant! In fact, to say this means I have created my own religion. I have defined my own way to heaven. Worse than this, I have thrown out what the God of all creation has done by sending his one and only Son to die on a cross as the perfect sacrifice for sin.
We can never be good enough. We can try but will never succeed in being free of sin. What we can do is believe in Jesus. He died for you. He conquered death for you. He was resurrected and went ahead to heaven to prepare a place for you… yet he did not leave us alone to fend for ourselves. The Spirit of God, the “wonderful counselor” comes and dwells within all those that confess that Jesus is Lord. When we confess our sins he is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). Jesus saves. He saves us from our sins and from ourselves.
We don’t need a snow storm to temporarily cover over the ugliness of our sins, we need the cleansing that comes through baptism, the washing away of those sins so we can instead be blanketed in the white robes of the saints that confess Jesus and praise his name.
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