Imagine pulling down the big screen at the front of your church, your work place, or the big screen tv (or little screen) in your home. It is your birthday party and there is to be a slideshow. Turn it on, the picture comes in to focus and instead of a slideshow of your best moments and memories, your accolades, awards and resume features, instead of all those glorious moments, are every shameful act, thought, conversation. The things that you never told a soul. Or the things you did with others that you never thought would surface again.
Considering the ease of publishing words and photos on the internet, it is not tough to imagine our lives broadcast before the world. In fact, if someone really wanted to drag my character through the mud, they could.
As I imagine this myself, moments from my 12th birthday through 18th flash in my memory. Many who may read this knew me then. Many know things I may be thinking of. I could hang everybit of dirty laundry on the line to be read. However, I know each article that could be hung, and so does God. He has seen my list. I know my list, each one knows their own. It has been hung before Him. It was hung on Him and was blotted out in red stains of innocent blood.
This morning in Sunday school, our class read about unforgiveness from Matthew 18 and the Parable of the Unmerciful Servant. We discussed why it is so hard to forgive. Talk about a topic to make a person squirm. Unforgiveness. I can feel so justified by my unwillingness to forgive, so self-righteous, so much like I am better than the person that I choose not to forgive. As long as I hang on to that offense, I feel a twisted pleasure in my bitterness and I can allow it to swell into a storm of anger, malice, wrath, and just bathe my spirit in the digestive acid of unforgiveness. In Matthew, it tells me that if I choose not to forgive I will be like the unmerciful servant turned over to the jailers to be tortured. A prisoner by my own choice. Captive. Tortured.
Christians are taught here by Christ to be forgiving people. Gulp. Yet we find it so hard to forgive. Is it any wonder, when I look at my own struggles with unforgiveness, why people outside of the church do not want to join? Is it any wonder why one of the main reasons people choose not to attend church or believe in, accept and follow Christ, is because they feel judged by Christians?
Arrogance.
Pride.
Haughtiness.
Holier-than-thou.
Hypocrisy.
Pharisee in modern day clothing.
My unforgiveness is rooted in all of that.
Oooo. It feels soooo justified though. It feels so right. Because what that person did was SO WRONG! I just want to hang on to it. To nurse it. It is soooo deceptive.
So, how can I forgive? Back to my dirty laundry slideshow. I visited my own slideshow in my mind this week, wrote about it in my journal, listed it, walked through it with the guidance of an incredibly, merciful Holy Spirit.
Why dig up the past? Why dig up "high school stuff"? First, because it it reveals my own desperate need of forgiveness for the tangled web of messed up motives of an immature selfish-hearted girl. Desperate need for salvation that I have taken for granted. No exuses for that tangled web of all-out sin. And in seeing myself for who and what I was, I am humbled by the unending, merciful grace and pure love of God who saw me in all of that and gave the life of His innocent Son so that I would not be punished for that, but saved from it and given a fresh, new life. That, my messed up life, is what I, like the woman who washed Christ's feet with her tears, her hair and her perfume had to give Him. I have been forgiven much. I did not deserve it. I am among those of whom Jesus said, "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do."
Secondly, I dig up the past to create new fertile soil. Because unplowed ground is hard and impenetrable. And ground plowed just a little bit is shallow. But digging deep and turning it over and stirring up the manure of my past makes a fertilized soil. Digging it up with two sets of hands on the shovel, mine and Jesus. Because I failed to "do business with the past", I rolled my "high school" motives right on into my marriage and my career. The junk of old beliefs and motives just manifested itself in new places. I cannot leave the past until I know the real and deep things that need to be let go of. If I do not examine the past, I end up keeping the old beliefs in which my actions are rooted. And then, it is just like pulling a weed without the root. The root just gets deeper and bigger and stronger and the behavior, the ugly weed, just keeps coming up again. Using the shovel with Christ, is different than doing it alone because it is on that journey of digging with Him, that my armor is fortified because we get to the root. When He is with me, my belt of truth is strengthend and fits because I'm not trying to fit it over the top of lies, and my sheild of faith quenches the darts that the enemy would like to fire at me about my past (Eph. 6). With Him, He is my sheild of faith and I can look at my past to gain wisdom for the future and that wisdom includes the wise choice of entering forgiveness. I can see my need for forgiveness from others and from God. So, by looking in the piercing mirror seeing my own reflection, I find it somehow, miraculously, with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, possible to forgive those who hurt me deeply.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Whole-Hearted Searching
In Jeremiah 29:13-14, it says, "You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you," declares the Lord, "and will bring you back from captivity."
Seek, search with all your heart. And He will be found and he will rescue. Sometimes I have half-heartedly searched. Half-hearted prayers, or prayers and searching with my "fine print conditions". But in whole-hearted seeking Him, He will be found, and He will set free. A spirit set free can even be free in physical captivity. It is a miracle.
We recently watched the movie Prince Caspian with our kids. Luci continues to look for the lion King, Aslan, to come to their rescue. She continues to search when the others have given up, believe he has abandoned them, or even no longer believe he even exists. There is a conversation Luci has with her brother Peter after she has had a glimpse of Aslan.
Peter says, "Why wouldn't I have seen Aslan?"
Luci replies, "Because you weren't looking."
And then in a conversation with her older sister Susan, the elder asks the same question as her brother. To which Luci says, "Maybe you didn't want to."
C.S. Lewis chronicles a childrens story that reflects the true story of God's word. We could dismiss both as foolish children's stories. Or we could embrace His Word as truth, seek Him, and He would be found by us when we look for Him with our whole heart. "I will be found by you" shows that He allows Himself to be found, He reveals Himself, when He knows we are at last searching with our whole heart.
I have been Peter not looking. I have been Susan not wanting. And I have been Luci searching with childlike faith with my whole heart. And He has been found by me again and again. And it has been a homecoming-embracing taste of a home I have not yet fully known. Yet it feels like home~more delightful each time I search and He is found.
copyright 2009. Jodene (Jodi) Shaw
Seek, search with all your heart. And He will be found and he will rescue. Sometimes I have half-heartedly searched. Half-hearted prayers, or prayers and searching with my "fine print conditions". But in whole-hearted seeking Him, He will be found, and He will set free. A spirit set free can even be free in physical captivity. It is a miracle.
We recently watched the movie Prince Caspian with our kids. Luci continues to look for the lion King, Aslan, to come to their rescue. She continues to search when the others have given up, believe he has abandoned them, or even no longer believe he even exists. There is a conversation Luci has with her brother Peter after she has had a glimpse of Aslan.
Peter says, "Why wouldn't I have seen Aslan?"
Luci replies, "Because you weren't looking."
And then in a conversation with her older sister Susan, the elder asks the same question as her brother. To which Luci says, "Maybe you didn't want to."
C.S. Lewis chronicles a childrens story that reflects the true story of God's word. We could dismiss both as foolish children's stories. Or we could embrace His Word as truth, seek Him, and He would be found by us when we look for Him with our whole heart. "I will be found by you" shows that He allows Himself to be found, He reveals Himself, when He knows we are at last searching with our whole heart.
I have been Peter not looking. I have been Susan not wanting. And I have been Luci searching with childlike faith with my whole heart. And He has been found by me again and again. And it has been a homecoming-embracing taste of a home I have not yet fully known. Yet it feels like home~more delightful each time I search and He is found.
copyright 2009. Jodene (Jodi) Shaw
Tuesday, August 11, 2009
The story the sunflowers tell...
Photo 1: "Self-Portrait"
copyright 2009. Jodene Shaw.
This is me. A bud filled to capacity, compelled to let the voice out, tentatively beginning to bloom, prepared to burst forth.
Photo 2: "Potential"
Another view of myself. . . perhaps a view of you...
Photo 3: "Applause"
The encouragement, cheer and joy of the sunflowers. . . bursting with praise and beauty that reflects the glory of God, and encourages each of us to have the courage to shine forth in the beauty that is ours and ours alone to reveal, a beauty that was given by God to reflect a part of Him.
Photo 4: "The time is now"
A reminder...there is little time, there is no guarantee of time. The time between budding and dying is brief.
copyright 2009. Jodene Shaw.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Gifts & Talents: Hidden in Dirt or Faithfully Unveiled
On The Parable of the Talents. . . Matthew 25:14-29
~Three servants. Each entrusted with talents of different amounts by their master.
~Two are faithful, use and invest the talents, increasing with more to give back to the master.
~One fearful, hides the talent, and returns what was entrusted covered in dirt.
~Two are entrusted with more and invited to join in joy, happiness, celebration with the master.
~One loses what he has and enters darkness, weeping, anguish, alone.
In Matthew 25:29, it says,
"For to everyone who has,
more will be given.
and he will have abundance;
but from him who does not have,
even what he has will be taken away."
To everyone who has. Who has. "Who has what?" I ask. "Who has faith. Faith." I hear in my heart. She or he who has faith to use, to invest, the gift that was given by the Master will be given more and will have abundance. Given more of what? More faith, more gifts from the master. More to reign over. More joy. More joy with the Master. The first two servants were faithful.
Oh, but the third servant says in verse 25, "And I was afraid, and went and hid your talent in the ground. Look, there you have what is yours." Warning flags fly up at these words: afraid, hid, Your talent, ground, i.e. dirt. The one that is afraid, that does not have faith to use the gift entrusted by the master will lose it. Use it or lose it. The third servant was fearful.
What lesson lies within speaking to my heart, to my circumstance...am I faithful or fearful? Do I believe more in myself or in the Master?
The third servant was afraid.
Afraid of what? Perhaps. . .
Afraid of the master.
Afraid of losing the gift.
Afraid of using the gift.
Afraid of what would happen when the gift was taken out, exposed and invested.
Perhaps, the third servant did not trust himself as much as the master did. For the master's belief and trust in the servant was shown by the giving of the gift, the talent, even if it was a small gift.
The talent still belonged to the master, just as our gifts and talents belong to the Master. But He entrusts them to us to use for His glory. If He gave them, He intends for them to be invested wisely, in faith, not hidden in fear. He is pleased with faith.
The third servant had the audacity to bury the talent in the dirt! Returning it covered in dirt, unused, undeveloped, uncared for, unappreciated, unseen. How insulting to the giver!
And I ask myself, "What gifts have I been given that I am burying in the dirt by saying, 'I don't deserve this' or 'I can't be trusted with this' or 'I am afraid I will fail' or 'I am afraid of what people will think' or 'I am afraid it won't be good enough' or 'This is insignificant compared to____'?" Two gifts come to mind: salvation and calling.
Salvation. What do I do with it as a believer? How does my salvation impact the way I live my life, the way I see myself? Do I wallow around beating myself up in self-pity and self-condemnation for sins of which I have been forgiven? Do I walk around thinking that Christ's work didn't make a difference to me in my life? Like His sacrifice wasn't enough for me? That is like throwing dirt on Him on the cross saying, "It's not enough. You hanging there on the cross beaten, bleeding, dying, humiliated, is not enough for my pitiful state." That is what it is like when I refuse to receive His forgiveness and forgive myself and instead think thoughts like, "I'll never change. I'm not strong enough. I'm too afraid. I'm not good enough." Notice "I" in thoughts. "I" thoughts are self-focused not Christ-focused. "I" as the focus will never be good enough. But shift the focus to what HE did for me instead of throwing dirt on His sacrifice by focusing on self-inadequacies. Those self-centered thoughts have the audacity to believe that "my" weaknesses, "my" sins, "my" mistakes are more powerful than His pain, than His payment, than His power, than His resurrection, than His restoration, than His Life that He freely gave!
A gift is to be received, not earned, not deserved. Received. Accepted. Appreciated, Enjoyed. Delighted in. And there is no greater gift than life, especially the Life of God given. Given when He entered the dirt and mess of this world in a dirty barn into the limits of a human body. And then given when allowed to be abused, broken, and brutally murdered to pay for all of the failures, fear, selfish-ambitions, perversions, and depravity of the entire human race. Why? So that all could choose to receive the gift of life. Restored life. Renewed life. Resurrected life. New life. Life that, like Christ, still bears the scars of the past, but has been completely restored, and now walks in the infinite power of the Spirit rather than the power of the old self of the past.
Calling. New gifts with a new heart restored by His life. He entrusts us with gifts, talents, passions for a purpose. What gifts has He entrusted to me, to you, that He believes can be used that will grow and multiply when used in faith? His gifts, talents, passions say something powerful about what He designed a person for and what He intends to do through that person. The gift, the talent, still belongs to Him, yet He has believed in this person He created enough to entrust it to be invested, used, enjoyed, delighted in. It is a gift to be received, to be accepted, to have a place of prominence in that life. Not because the one who received the gift is to be prominent, nor that the gift itself is to be idolized. But because the receiver loves, honors, and trusts the Giver enough to respond in faith and respect. He gives the talent with love, trust, and with intention based on the unique design of the receiver. He has searched and known each one(Ps. 139:1)--what is loved, enjoyed, delighted in--more than any person because He is the one who designed each one--you, me--with care, precision, intention and purpose.
In 1 Peter 4:10, it says, "As each one has received a gift, minister it to one another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God." Use the gift! For each others' needs. It is not selfish to use the talent given. It is selfish to withhold it. We all need the gifts that God has given each one. It is OK to need each other, because each one has not been given all the gifts and therefore is not self-sufficient. That is why we are not to be islands for taking care of ourselves, but instead each one is given gifts to care for the needs of others. When we use our gift for others in faith, we are being "good stewards" which means that we are taking good care of the gift given by God. It is about serving Him and others. Not about what people will think of our particular gift. Actually, it is a disservice to others to try to be something and someone we are not. What is incredibly humbling and touching about God is that He gives out of the "manifold grace" of Himself. Out of the "many folds"--the endless--grace of God. Grace is undeserved, kind, generous. If He was kind and gracious to give us a gift, it must be a gift we will enjoy using, that we will have a passion for. He would not give us a bad gift with grace. He knows us intimately and a "perfect" gift indicates that the giver knows just what the receiver would delight in. For in Matthew 7:11, it says, "how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!" And in James 1:17 it says, "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning." Isn't a gift considered "perfect" when it indicates that the giver deeply knew the heart of the receiver? And who knows us more intimately than our Maker?
In Romans 12:6, it says, "Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, let us use them." Again, a gift is given. Each one's gift is different. Each gift is given in grace. And each gift is intended to be used. In faith. Not hidden in fear.
"The body is not one member but many" and "diversities of gifts are given, but the same Spirit", for the good of the "body of Christ", as is shown in 1 Corinthians 12. And, ". . .as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. Moreover it is required in stewards that one be found faithful" from 1 Corinthians 4.
May we be found good and faithful servants with our gifts, rather than the opposite: bad and fearful. May it be said by my lord to me, by your lord to you, "Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord." (Matthew 25:21)
~Three servants. Each entrusted with talents of different amounts by their master.
~Two are faithful, use and invest the talents, increasing with more to give back to the master.
~One fearful, hides the talent, and returns what was entrusted covered in dirt.
~Two are entrusted with more and invited to join in joy, happiness, celebration with the master.
~One loses what he has and enters darkness, weeping, anguish, alone.
In Matthew 25:29, it says,
"For to everyone who has,
more will be given.
and he will have abundance;
but from him who does not have,
even what he has will be taken away."
To everyone who has. Who has. "Who has what?" I ask. "Who has faith. Faith." I hear in my heart. She or he who has faith to use, to invest, the gift that was given by the Master will be given more and will have abundance. Given more of what? More faith, more gifts from the master. More to reign over. More joy. More joy with the Master. The first two servants were faithful.
Oh, but the third servant says in verse 25, "And I was afraid, and went and hid your talent in the ground. Look, there you have what is yours." Warning flags fly up at these words: afraid, hid, Your talent, ground, i.e. dirt. The one that is afraid, that does not have faith to use the gift entrusted by the master will lose it. Use it or lose it. The third servant was fearful.
What lesson lies within speaking to my heart, to my circumstance...am I faithful or fearful? Do I believe more in myself or in the Master?
The third servant was afraid.
Afraid of what? Perhaps. . .
Afraid of the master.
Afraid of losing the gift.
Afraid of using the gift.
Afraid of what would happen when the gift was taken out, exposed and invested.
Perhaps, the third servant did not trust himself as much as the master did. For the master's belief and trust in the servant was shown by the giving of the gift, the talent, even if it was a small gift.
The talent still belonged to the master, just as our gifts and talents belong to the Master. But He entrusts them to us to use for His glory. If He gave them, He intends for them to be invested wisely, in faith, not hidden in fear. He is pleased with faith.
The third servant had the audacity to bury the talent in the dirt! Returning it covered in dirt, unused, undeveloped, uncared for, unappreciated, unseen. How insulting to the giver!
And I ask myself, "What gifts have I been given that I am burying in the dirt by saying, 'I don't deserve this' or 'I can't be trusted with this' or 'I am afraid I will fail' or 'I am afraid of what people will think' or 'I am afraid it won't be good enough' or 'This is insignificant compared to____'?" Two gifts come to mind: salvation and calling.
Salvation. What do I do with it as a believer? How does my salvation impact the way I live my life, the way I see myself? Do I wallow around beating myself up in self-pity and self-condemnation for sins of which I have been forgiven? Do I walk around thinking that Christ's work didn't make a difference to me in my life? Like His sacrifice wasn't enough for me? That is like throwing dirt on Him on the cross saying, "It's not enough. You hanging there on the cross beaten, bleeding, dying, humiliated, is not enough for my pitiful state." That is what it is like when I refuse to receive His forgiveness and forgive myself and instead think thoughts like, "I'll never change. I'm not strong enough. I'm too afraid. I'm not good enough." Notice "I" in thoughts. "I" thoughts are self-focused not Christ-focused. "I" as the focus will never be good enough. But shift the focus to what HE did for me instead of throwing dirt on His sacrifice by focusing on self-inadequacies. Those self-centered thoughts have the audacity to believe that "my" weaknesses, "my" sins, "my" mistakes are more powerful than His pain, than His payment, than His power, than His resurrection, than His restoration, than His Life that He freely gave!
A gift is to be received, not earned, not deserved. Received. Accepted. Appreciated, Enjoyed. Delighted in. And there is no greater gift than life, especially the Life of God given. Given when He entered the dirt and mess of this world in a dirty barn into the limits of a human body. And then given when allowed to be abused, broken, and brutally murdered to pay for all of the failures, fear, selfish-ambitions, perversions, and depravity of the entire human race. Why? So that all could choose to receive the gift of life. Restored life. Renewed life. Resurrected life. New life. Life that, like Christ, still bears the scars of the past, but has been completely restored, and now walks in the infinite power of the Spirit rather than the power of the old self of the past.
Calling. New gifts with a new heart restored by His life. He entrusts us with gifts, talents, passions for a purpose. What gifts has He entrusted to me, to you, that He believes can be used that will grow and multiply when used in faith? His gifts, talents, passions say something powerful about what He designed a person for and what He intends to do through that person. The gift, the talent, still belongs to Him, yet He has believed in this person He created enough to entrust it to be invested, used, enjoyed, delighted in. It is a gift to be received, to be accepted, to have a place of prominence in that life. Not because the one who received the gift is to be prominent, nor that the gift itself is to be idolized. But because the receiver loves, honors, and trusts the Giver enough to respond in faith and respect. He gives the talent with love, trust, and with intention based on the unique design of the receiver. He has searched and known each one(Ps. 139:1)--what is loved, enjoyed, delighted in--more than any person because He is the one who designed each one--you, me--with care, precision, intention and purpose.
In 1 Peter 4:10, it says, "As each one has received a gift, minister it to one another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God." Use the gift! For each others' needs. It is not selfish to use the talent given. It is selfish to withhold it. We all need the gifts that God has given each one. It is OK to need each other, because each one has not been given all the gifts and therefore is not self-sufficient. That is why we are not to be islands for taking care of ourselves, but instead each one is given gifts to care for the needs of others. When we use our gift for others in faith, we are being "good stewards" which means that we are taking good care of the gift given by God. It is about serving Him and others. Not about what people will think of our particular gift. Actually, it is a disservice to others to try to be something and someone we are not. What is incredibly humbling and touching about God is that He gives out of the "manifold grace" of Himself. Out of the "many folds"--the endless--grace of God. Grace is undeserved, kind, generous. If He was kind and gracious to give us a gift, it must be a gift we will enjoy using, that we will have a passion for. He would not give us a bad gift with grace. He knows us intimately and a "perfect" gift indicates that the giver knows just what the receiver would delight in. For in Matthew 7:11, it says, "how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask Him!" And in James 1:17 it says, "Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning." Isn't a gift considered "perfect" when it indicates that the giver deeply knew the heart of the receiver? And who knows us more intimately than our Maker?
In Romans 12:6, it says, "Having then gifts differing according to the grace that is given to us, let us use them." Again, a gift is given. Each one's gift is different. Each gift is given in grace. And each gift is intended to be used. In faith. Not hidden in fear.
"The body is not one member but many" and "diversities of gifts are given, but the same Spirit", for the good of the "body of Christ", as is shown in 1 Corinthians 12. And, ". . .as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. Moreover it is required in stewards that one be found faithful" from 1 Corinthians 4.
May we be found good and faithful servants with our gifts, rather than the opposite: bad and fearful. May it be said by my lord to me, by your lord to you, "Well done, good and faithful servant; you were faithful over a few things, I will make you ruler over many things. Enter into the joy of your lord." (Matthew 25:21)
Saturday, July 11, 2009
"Right On" Words of Encouragement
Lately, this week, this morning, I have been anxious, fearful, hands shaking, afraid of being constrained, trapped, stuck, fake. Afraid to speak. Have I picked up the Word? No.
So this morning I pick up the Word. "Where should I go?", I silently ask. Psalms. I open. Psalm 56.
I read silently. I read aloud:
"Whenever I am afraid,
I will trust in You.
In God (I will praise His word),
In God I have put my trust;
I will not fear.
What can flesh do to me?"
And then . . . verse 8:
"You number my wanderings;
Put my tears into Your bottle.
Are they not in Your book?"
I have been wandering all week. Wandering and wondering. And yes, tears. Silent tears. Quiet tears. He knows each and every wander I have taken, each and every tear I have shed. He records them even. He cares that much. My breath is taken away. He knows the depths of my wandering, where they are and why they are, knows their purpose, even if I cannot speak them.
I read on. Verse 9-10:
When I cry out to You
Then my enemies will turn back;
This I know because God is for me
In God (I will praise His word),
In the LORD (I will praise His word),
In God I have put my trust;
I will not be afraid.
What can man do to me?
I have been putting my trust in myself, my past, my inabilities and/or unwillingness to speak my heart, fearing opinions. Fear comes from that.
A cross reference says Psalm 118:6. So I go there. I read verses 5-6:
I called on the Lord in distress
The Lord answered me and set me in a broad place.
The Lord is on my side;
I will not fear
What can man do to me?
The commentary says that distress is referring to confined, constrained spaces. My fear has been that the Lord will stuff me in a box. But the truth is that he sets me in a broad place, open, free. He is on my side.
Again the cross reference says Psalm 94:17. I turn and read . . .
"Unless the Lord had been my help,
My soul would soon have settled in silence."
Sigh. Selah. Wow. I have been on the fence of speaking versus silence. Stepping out versus settling. My soul taking flight in truth versus sinking in under a mask. Without the Lord's help, my soul is destined to settle in silence. But that is not me. I have the Lord's help and so, my soul will not settle in silence.
I have been anxious. I read on. . . same Psalm verse 19:
In the multitude of my anxieties within me,
Your comforts delight my soul.
Yes, I am delighted. That has been me this week: a multitude of anxieties. But after this gentle rain of His words directly, specifically, uniquely to my soul, I am truly and completely delighted.
What was unique to me this week? Multitudes of anxiety. Fear. A silent, settling soul. Suffocating claustrophobia. His word spoke to every unique need I had. Not that I am the only one who feels those, but they were my specific needs at this specific time.
Once again, I am amazed. I am encouraged. I am trusting in God, not me, not someone else. I am delighted.
So this morning I pick up the Word. "Where should I go?", I silently ask. Psalms. I open. Psalm 56.
I read silently. I read aloud:
"Whenever I am afraid,
I will trust in You.
In God (I will praise His word),
In God I have put my trust;
I will not fear.
What can flesh do to me?"
And then . . . verse 8:
"You number my wanderings;
Put my tears into Your bottle.
Are they not in Your book?"
I have been wandering all week. Wandering and wondering. And yes, tears. Silent tears. Quiet tears. He knows each and every wander I have taken, each and every tear I have shed. He records them even. He cares that much. My breath is taken away. He knows the depths of my wandering, where they are and why they are, knows their purpose, even if I cannot speak them.
I read on. Verse 9-10:
When I cry out to You
Then my enemies will turn back;
This I know because God is for me
In God (I will praise His word),
In the LORD (I will praise His word),
In God I have put my trust;
I will not be afraid.
What can man do to me?
I have been putting my trust in myself, my past, my inabilities and/or unwillingness to speak my heart, fearing opinions. Fear comes from that.
A cross reference says Psalm 118:6. So I go there. I read verses 5-6:
I called on the Lord in distress
The Lord answered me and set me in a broad place.
The Lord is on my side;
I will not fear
What can man do to me?
The commentary says that distress is referring to confined, constrained spaces. My fear has been that the Lord will stuff me in a box. But the truth is that he sets me in a broad place, open, free. He is on my side.
Again the cross reference says Psalm 94:17. I turn and read . . .
"Unless the Lord had been my help,
My soul would soon have settled in silence."
Sigh. Selah. Wow. I have been on the fence of speaking versus silence. Stepping out versus settling. My soul taking flight in truth versus sinking in under a mask. Without the Lord's help, my soul is destined to settle in silence. But that is not me. I have the Lord's help and so, my soul will not settle in silence.
I have been anxious. I read on. . . same Psalm verse 19:
In the multitude of my anxieties within me,
Your comforts delight my soul.
Yes, I am delighted. That has been me this week: a multitude of anxieties. But after this gentle rain of His words directly, specifically, uniquely to my soul, I am truly and completely delighted.
What was unique to me this week? Multitudes of anxiety. Fear. A silent, settling soul. Suffocating claustrophobia. His word spoke to every unique need I had. Not that I am the only one who feels those, but they were my specific needs at this specific time.
Once again, I am amazed. I am encouraged. I am trusting in God, not me, not someone else. I am delighted.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Dandelion
Dandelion.
Common Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale).
Sunflower family.
Description: A common weed, its yellow flower head topping a hollow, leafless stalk that rises from the center of a rosette of toothed leaves.
The popular name comes from dent de lion. French for "lion's tooth," referring to the teeth on the leaves.
(The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Wildflowers c)1979)
A common weed. Yet so much memory in it. Who does not remember as a child picking fistfuls of dandelions to present as an expression of love for a mother, grandmother, or another beloved woman? The pungent smell of the blooms takes me back to my childhood as it did on this day when I saw the first few weed-flowers of spring along my house.
Lately as I have relished fond memories of my grandparents, I have seemed to mourn a loss of "knowing" one of my grandfathers. Not anger. Not bitterness. Just a sadness. How we can live next door to one another, or even within the same household and miss a deep knowing of one another is a tragedy. Yet it seems far too common. And so follows a portion of my journal from April 23, 2009.
The dandelions that have sprung up along the house this week remind me of Grandpa's war against them. I remember him out there in his yard with a dandelion digger. I remember a photo of him, of me, of dandelions. . . were we in it together? Was it just him? Just me? Grandpa digging and me delighting, as a 4-5 year old, the dandelions. And as I think of these/this photo, questions surface.
Did he have an affection for me? He must have. Certainly a grandfather would. What inner battles was he fighting that he seemed so occupied, so. . . in the background? Why do I have so few memories of him? Are there parts of me that are from him? How am I like him? What did he long for?
The memories that I do have ~ I do remember his voice. I do remember his laugh. I do remember his huge-knuckled, humped-up arthritic hands. I do remember that he watched M*A*S*H. He was fascinated by maps one of my aunts recently shared with me. I watch M*A*S*H now, so much that it is almost a "language" that Jim & I speak to each other. ("You know the episode when Margaret's father. . . that's how I feel," I might say to Jim.) And I am and have always been fascinated with maps.
I am overcome with a new compassion for him, with forgiveness, with sorrow for his lost relationships, for him, for me. For what he refused to face or express, for how he held back from those who loved and needed him most. For how he was able to express his true self with others: those he worked cattle with, the ones he bought a sewing machine from, those he attended the Episcopal church with. They were the ones who got his true self. . . his glorious self. For we all do have a glory to share, I believe, from our Creator. They got to see, and some got to know, the "good stuff".
I am not angry. Instead, compassion. Sorrow. Relating. Grace.
What was going on behind his mask? What is going on behind mine? What pressures did he feel? Were they like mine? What was his battle with pride like on the inside of him? Is it similar to the one I fight? The one that attempts vs. lets go of "painting a perfect little picture" of my life.
The answers to the questions about my grandfather are not as important as the eyes of my heart that the Lord is opening to see my grandfather as a real person. To see him as a person who did hurt, who did have insecurities, who battled uncertainty, who did fear, who made mistakes as he lived his life as best he know. He was real with feelings and battles just as real as my own.
The little dandelion-picking girl in me asks, "Did you delight in me, Grandpa?"
And in my mind, I respond to the question, "I think you did. I think the answer is yes, even if you didn't show it in a way that I can remember. I think you may have struggled to be your truest self with your family just like I do. And it wasn't their fault. But the vulnerability it required was risky. It was scary. It was easier with people who 'didn't matter so much'."
From deep within, I hear a voice that I write. "Don't make the same mistake, Jodi. Don't hold back who you really are deep down inside your core being from the world and most of all from those who matter most. Don't let this life go by pretending to be what you are not or trying to fit a mold of success that you think others will approve of or by impressed by. What matters most is following the heart of the Lord because He made you to be you for your family...for those that "matter so much". Don't hold back the 'true you'. Because the 'true you' is the 'best' you, and they deserve the best, truest you. They need it. They want it. They need and want to know and experience the true you. It gives them permission and courage to discover and be their truest selves."
What do I do with this encouraging voice? When I read it, I want to cry out, "Yes!! This is true!" And then when I attempt to live it, to speak it, with those that "matter most", a fear creeps in . . . that whispers of being rejected, of being thought a fool, of being told that I am too complicated and too deep and serious, of being misunderstood, of being arrogant to think that I could write and publish something that people would want to read. The whisper causes me to want to "play it safe", to pretend there are no things stirring in the depths of me to step out in a new way, to pretend or to convince myself that I am content and should leave everything alone, to keep peace and calm--no waves, to stuff the desire to risk and share the passions within. And then the encouraging voice cries out, "No! Don't repeat it! Don't hold back! Be real! Be who you were made to be! Share the passions and gifts you were given that were given only to you. They are needed. They were designed for you to share, not to keep to yourself! Each person was designed uniquely to offer themselves, and that includes you. Risk rejection, for some will reject. Risk being thought a fool, because some will undoubtedly think you are. Risk revealing the complicated questions you have and the depth of your thoughts. And risk misunderstanding because in hiding, stuffing, and pretending you are already misunderstood."
How would I want my children to respond to a battle like this within? I know the answer. I know the voice I would encourage them to follow. Live like I want my children to live. Be the example. Put on courage and live it. I hear Casting Crowns, echoing their song in the background of my mind, "But the Voice of Truth, tells me a different story. The Voice of Truth says, 'Do not be afraid.' And the Voice of Truth says, 'This is for My glory.' Out of all the voices calling out to me, I will choose to listen and believe the Voice of Truth."
Dandelion. Bloom as you are. There is beauty in who you were made to be. Some may try to destroy you because you are messing up the order and tidiness of their arranged "yard-life". While others will embrace and delight in your beauty, gathering up in fistfuls the uniqueness that is the true you. Bloom and scatter your seeds on the wind of your words.
Common Dandelion (Taraxacum officinale).
Sunflower family.
Description: A common weed, its yellow flower head topping a hollow, leafless stalk that rises from the center of a rosette of toothed leaves.
The popular name comes from dent de lion. French for "lion's tooth," referring to the teeth on the leaves.
(The Audubon Society Field Guide to North American Wildflowers c)1979)
A common weed. Yet so much memory in it. Who does not remember as a child picking fistfuls of dandelions to present as an expression of love for a mother, grandmother, or another beloved woman? The pungent smell of the blooms takes me back to my childhood as it did on this day when I saw the first few weed-flowers of spring along my house.
Lately as I have relished fond memories of my grandparents, I have seemed to mourn a loss of "knowing" one of my grandfathers. Not anger. Not bitterness. Just a sadness. How we can live next door to one another, or even within the same household and miss a deep knowing of one another is a tragedy. Yet it seems far too common. And so follows a portion of my journal from April 23, 2009.
The dandelions that have sprung up along the house this week remind me of Grandpa's war against them. I remember him out there in his yard with a dandelion digger. I remember a photo of him, of me, of dandelions. . . were we in it together? Was it just him? Just me? Grandpa digging and me delighting, as a 4-5 year old, the dandelions. And as I think of these/this photo, questions surface.
Did he have an affection for me? He must have. Certainly a grandfather would. What inner battles was he fighting that he seemed so occupied, so. . . in the background? Why do I have so few memories of him? Are there parts of me that are from him? How am I like him? What did he long for?
The memories that I do have ~ I do remember his voice. I do remember his laugh. I do remember his huge-knuckled, humped-up arthritic hands. I do remember that he watched M*A*S*H. He was fascinated by maps one of my aunts recently shared with me. I watch M*A*S*H now, so much that it is almost a "language" that Jim & I speak to each other. ("You know the episode when Margaret's father. . . that's how I feel," I might say to Jim.) And I am and have always been fascinated with maps.
I am overcome with a new compassion for him, with forgiveness, with sorrow for his lost relationships, for him, for me. For what he refused to face or express, for how he held back from those who loved and needed him most. For how he was able to express his true self with others: those he worked cattle with, the ones he bought a sewing machine from, those he attended the Episcopal church with. They were the ones who got his true self. . . his glorious self. For we all do have a glory to share, I believe, from our Creator. They got to see, and some got to know, the "good stuff".
I am not angry. Instead, compassion. Sorrow. Relating. Grace.
What was going on behind his mask? What is going on behind mine? What pressures did he feel? Were they like mine? What was his battle with pride like on the inside of him? Is it similar to the one I fight? The one that attempts vs. lets go of "painting a perfect little picture" of my life.
The answers to the questions about my grandfather are not as important as the eyes of my heart that the Lord is opening to see my grandfather as a real person. To see him as a person who did hurt, who did have insecurities, who battled uncertainty, who did fear, who made mistakes as he lived his life as best he know. He was real with feelings and battles just as real as my own.
The little dandelion-picking girl in me asks, "Did you delight in me, Grandpa?"
And in my mind, I respond to the question, "I think you did. I think the answer is yes, even if you didn't show it in a way that I can remember. I think you may have struggled to be your truest self with your family just like I do. And it wasn't their fault. But the vulnerability it required was risky. It was scary. It was easier with people who 'didn't matter so much'."
From deep within, I hear a voice that I write. "Don't make the same mistake, Jodi. Don't hold back who you really are deep down inside your core being from the world and most of all from those who matter most. Don't let this life go by pretending to be what you are not or trying to fit a mold of success that you think others will approve of or by impressed by. What matters most is following the heart of the Lord because He made you to be you for your family...for those that "matter so much". Don't hold back the 'true you'. Because the 'true you' is the 'best' you, and they deserve the best, truest you. They need it. They want it. They need and want to know and experience the true you. It gives them permission and courage to discover and be their truest selves."
What do I do with this encouraging voice? When I read it, I want to cry out, "Yes!! This is true!" And then when I attempt to live it, to speak it, with those that "matter most", a fear creeps in . . . that whispers of being rejected, of being thought a fool, of being told that I am too complicated and too deep and serious, of being misunderstood, of being arrogant to think that I could write and publish something that people would want to read. The whisper causes me to want to "play it safe", to pretend there are no things stirring in the depths of me to step out in a new way, to pretend or to convince myself that I am content and should leave everything alone, to keep peace and calm--no waves, to stuff the desire to risk and share the passions within. And then the encouraging voice cries out, "No! Don't repeat it! Don't hold back! Be real! Be who you were made to be! Share the passions and gifts you were given that were given only to you. They are needed. They were designed for you to share, not to keep to yourself! Each person was designed uniquely to offer themselves, and that includes you. Risk rejection, for some will reject. Risk being thought a fool, because some will undoubtedly think you are. Risk revealing the complicated questions you have and the depth of your thoughts. And risk misunderstanding because in hiding, stuffing, and pretending you are already misunderstood."
How would I want my children to respond to a battle like this within? I know the answer. I know the voice I would encourage them to follow. Live like I want my children to live. Be the example. Put on courage and live it. I hear Casting Crowns, echoing their song in the background of my mind, "But the Voice of Truth, tells me a different story. The Voice of Truth says, 'Do not be afraid.' And the Voice of Truth says, 'This is for My glory.' Out of all the voices calling out to me, I will choose to listen and believe the Voice of Truth."
Dandelion. Bloom as you are. There is beauty in who you were made to be. Some may try to destroy you because you are messing up the order and tidiness of their arranged "yard-life". While others will embrace and delight in your beauty, gathering up in fistfuls the uniqueness that is the true you. Bloom and scatter your seeds on the wind of your words.
Friday, July 3, 2009
Spring Hope.
(Written 4/7/2009 after spring blizzard. Remember, not so long ago. . . )
The robins are here this morning. On my deck, in my few sparse juniper branches that refuse to be crushed by the snow, in my cottonwood tree. Their orange breast against the blue sky evokes a glimmer deep in my core--
Beyond the tree I see a black baby calf dancing in figure-eights around his blizzard-weary mama; his tail flying straight behind him. If he could speak, I imagine he would be saying, "Mama! Mama! The sun! The sun! Do you see the sun? And the blue sky? Blue! That is what blue is! Wow! It's amazing!!" It is the first time this 3-day old baby has seen a blue sky, has seen the sun. He has only known white and gray, cold and wet.
And mama, slowly, deliberately chewing her cud of hay, wearily lifts her head, utters a soft shallow, "Mmm," saying "Yes, dear."
There is a glimmer again. Color. Light.
Hope.
(Written 4/7/2009 after spring blizzard. Remember, not so long ago. . . )
The robins are here this morning. On my deck, in my few sparse juniper branches that refuse to be crushed by the snow, in my cottonwood tree. Their orange breast against the blue sky evokes a glimmer deep in my core--
Beyond the tree I see a black baby calf dancing in figure-eights around his blizzard-weary mama; his tail flying straight behind him. If he could speak, I imagine he would be saying, "Mama! Mama! The sun! The sun! Do you see the sun? And the blue sky? Blue! That is what blue is! Wow! It's amazing!!" It is the first time this 3-day old baby has seen a blue sky, has seen the sun. He has only known white and gray, cold and wet.
And mama, slowly, deliberately chewing her cud of hay, wearily lifts her head, utters a soft shallow, "Mmm," saying "Yes, dear."
There is a glimmer again. Color. Light.
Hope.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
On Focusing Thoughts. . .
Written 3-19-08
The black cold, hard lump of coal that is empty--void of all feeling--it sucks in all joy and pulls color out of the world. That is what black does. She is holding it tightly. Like a magnetic force, her hand and the rock is. It is all she sees. It has captivated her. She is mesmerized by the blackness of it, by the lack of color, the lack of life. It is held right before her eyes. Because it is held so close, it is the only "truth" she knows. It consumes all that she sees, all that she thinks about, all that she speaks. It grows, gets bigger, with every thought and with every word.
Yet surrounding her, all around her, is this glorious sphere like a diamond prism that casts radiant light and love. It makes millions of rainbows. Tiny rainbows. Rainbows are promises of God. Many millions of promises adorned in color and light scattering everywhere. It is all around her. It is true. She need only release the lump of coal from her hands before her eyes and look up and around into the light and see it: the light, the love, the colors, the promises, the hope that are right before and around her. The Light is the Truth.
But as long as the rock is held before her eyes, she will not see all that surrounds her. She will believe in that lump and live from that lump, trapped in a prison of her own will. Let it fall and she can be free to receive healing and restoration, freedom, and love that flows from the Father, from the Truth. It will take a moment for her eyes to adjust to the radiance but if she makes the choice to keep her eyes turned toward the diamond, the light, the truth, then it will be but a moment before the adjustment in focus in complete. It is in that window that she must not pick up the black lump and put it back in front of her eyes to sheild them.
The pain will be momentary but then a lifetime of new life in radiant beauty is before her rather than the slow, dull numbing pain of the black lump.
Let it fall, roll away and reveal the glory that surrounds her--that is right before her eyes. The life she's always wanted is right before her eyes. All the richness, vibrant beauty in full color immersed in Love is right here, right now. It is here all around.
The sun can be blocked with a penny when held close enough to the eyes. Drop it and experience it's radiance. What is focused on gets bigger. What is spoken of grows. What is held close is believed and is given power by belief. Belief is shaped by thoughts, by focus, which shapes actions, shapes a life lived. What is believed is what is lived, whether true or false. Discover truth. Believe Truth.
Jesus said, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." John 14:6
copyright 2009. Jodene (Jodi) Shaw
The black cold, hard lump of coal that is empty--void of all feeling--it sucks in all joy and pulls color out of the world. That is what black does. She is holding it tightly. Like a magnetic force, her hand and the rock is. It is all she sees. It has captivated her. She is mesmerized by the blackness of it, by the lack of color, the lack of life. It is held right before her eyes. Because it is held so close, it is the only "truth" she knows. It consumes all that she sees, all that she thinks about, all that she speaks. It grows, gets bigger, with every thought and with every word.
Yet surrounding her, all around her, is this glorious sphere like a diamond prism that casts radiant light and love. It makes millions of rainbows. Tiny rainbows. Rainbows are promises of God. Many millions of promises adorned in color and light scattering everywhere. It is all around her. It is true. She need only release the lump of coal from her hands before her eyes and look up and around into the light and see it: the light, the love, the colors, the promises, the hope that are right before and around her. The Light is the Truth.
But as long as the rock is held before her eyes, she will not see all that surrounds her. She will believe in that lump and live from that lump, trapped in a prison of her own will. Let it fall and she can be free to receive healing and restoration, freedom, and love that flows from the Father, from the Truth. It will take a moment for her eyes to adjust to the radiance but if she makes the choice to keep her eyes turned toward the diamond, the light, the truth, then it will be but a moment before the adjustment in focus in complete. It is in that window that she must not pick up the black lump and put it back in front of her eyes to sheild them.
The pain will be momentary but then a lifetime of new life in radiant beauty is before her rather than the slow, dull numbing pain of the black lump.
Let it fall, roll away and reveal the glory that surrounds her--that is right before her eyes. The life she's always wanted is right before her eyes. All the richness, vibrant beauty in full color immersed in Love is right here, right now. It is here all around.
The sun can be blocked with a penny when held close enough to the eyes. Drop it and experience it's radiance. What is focused on gets bigger. What is spoken of grows. What is held close is believed and is given power by belief. Belief is shaped by thoughts, by focus, which shapes actions, shapes a life lived. What is believed is what is lived, whether true or false. Discover truth. Believe Truth.
Jesus said, "I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life." John 14:6
copyright 2009. Jodene (Jodi) Shaw
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