Daddy God?
Yes, Daughter,
Are you busy?
Yes, I am always busy.... but never too busy to talk to you. What's on your mind?
What are you doing right now?
Well, many things, but you are asking about your own life. Right now I am creating and arranging an intricate web, a multitude of events, circumstances and people who will ultimately meet your needs and the needs of those you care about and propel you forward through the special, unique plan I have for your life. It's a plan to bring glory to Myself and great goodness and blessing to you... More than all you could ask or imagine. In other words, I am perfecting My Will in your life. It's going to be pretty spectacular!
Can I see it?
Well, I can show you little glimpses of it, but really to take in the whole thing would be more than you can handle.... And... You have a bit of a tendency to want to help.
Help? But how could I help You?
(Chuckling,) well, that's the cute thing about you. Your help is sometimes not helpful. Sometimes your help makes a bit of a mess and then I have an even bigger job of re-ordering everything to keep you on track for all that I want for you. Which is nothing for Me, because nothing is impossible or even difficult for Me. Nothing is too complicated or wearying or frustrating for Me. But I know that you get tired of waiting sometimes, even though I know it's good for you.
Good for me?? How can it be good for me? Sometimes I wait so long I begin to doubt you. I know you don't want me to doubt you, but it's hard to keep hope alive in the desert.
Ah, but maybe you are not in the desert. Are you sure that is where you are?? Is everything around you a desert, or are you in a lush green valley with a little cup of sand?
You are very funny, God.
I invented humor. And your laugh makes me laugh, and that terrifies the devil. You should laugh more often. You should take your eyes off that little cup of sand and see if there are any flowers or fruit around.
How long will I be in this place, Lord?
Just the right amount of time. I know it seems like a very long period of time to you right now, but know that when I move you out of that place, you will be surprised and even balk at the discomfort of moving, just as the Israelites struggled against my Deliverance of them from Egypt. But you will not wander in the desert for 40 years.
Ok. If I can't know exactly what you are doing and how long it will take, can you just do one thing for me, Papa God?
Anything for you, my precious, precious daughter.
Just keep reminding me you are right here. Do whatever it takes to help me to never lose the feeling of your Presence. I can live without the details, but not your Presence. Please remind me every minute and every hour. Help my heart to feel what my eyes cannot see and my ears cannot always hear. I will choose to believe you.
Yes. I can do that. Remember I told you many times, "Never will I leave you, Never will I forsake you." I am Faithful and True. It is written on my body, in the palms of my hands and upon my feet, and you will see it with your own eyes. This affliction is light and momentary, and it is preparing for you an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison. Rest now.
Ok. I love you. Thank you.
I know. And I loved you first.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Hold the Ice.... I'm sick.
Hello. My name is Kari DeBerg and I am a recovering People Pleaser.
If deep introspection and overthinking annoys the crap out of you, stop reading now. I'm about to come across as highly neurotic and maybe in need of counseling. I'm working on it. Two weeks from now I probably won't feel this way. This is just where I'm at today. (And, to varying degrees, my whole life. Haha.)
If you don't know me that well, here is a glimpse into my head. Other peoples' suffering is pretty much intolerable to me. If you get hurt, like a cut or stub your toe, or worse-- You break your leg and the bone is sticking out through your flesh-- I can't stand it. This goes beyond just "squeamish." I can feel your pain. And not just physical pain... emotional, mental, spiritual... any kind of pain is up for me to grab. When the news reports something horrific happening to someone, I instantly, mentally, emotionally and spiritually step into that person's skin. I have to will myself to STOP thinking about it. Sometimes I can't. I pray for them. (This is called Identification Intercession, and it's a gift I didn't ask for, and don't yet know how to use properly.) Sometimes (this is when it gets toxic,) it's hard for me to just let it go and give it over to God. I know I'm not God and I can't "fix" them, but sometimes I get really, really stuck. It's a daily battle. It's called being "co-dependent," and it's something I am desperate to be rid of. Not the compassion part of it, or the identification intercession, but the taking-responsibility-for things-that-are-not-my-responsibility part.
If you've asked me if I've seen such-and-such a movie, the answer is probably "no." I like movies... well, sort of. Unfortunately plot structure of almost any story requires that there be some kind of conflict and then a conflict resolution. No one writes a story where everything is great and just stays that way. For most people, that would be really boring. I, on the other hand, would love that movie. Because when bad things happen to people in movies, that hurts my heart/head too. I know it's not real. But it's hard for me to not hurt for the possibility that someone might go through that. Violence in a movie physically hurts me.
This tyrannical burden of other people's problems extends even to people just being disappointed, unhappy, angry, sad and hurt... especially when it's with me. Hence, my lifelong daily battle with people pleasing. I loathe it. I try to not fall into it, and I make progress. I am freer from it today than I was a year ago. But I see that it's a multi-layered problem that goes very deep, and I'm not finished. Yet.
I used to have a tremendous amount of trouble saying "no" to people. Because of course if you say "no," the person will be disappointed, which was unacceptable. Never mind the treadmill I was running on to keep all the plates spinning in the air so that no one was ever disappointed. But, inevitably, I was still disappointing people, no matter what I did. I would try to counter that with making one or more people exceedingly happy. Not sure what the numerical ratio of happy people to unhappy people creates my warped sense of "balance", but even when I thought it was working, deep down I knew it wasn't working.
By now you are most likely 1.) bored, 2.) thinking I'm incredibly self-absorbed and sick, 3.) wondering what the point of all of this is, or 4.) some combination or all of the above. I'm hovering between wanting to relieve you of those feelings and needing to say what I need to say.
I say all of this so that you can know what is at stake. What I am working very hard to be rid of. This counterfeit bastardization of "compassion" is not useful to anyone or anything. It is a hindrance that needs to be removed and/or repaired. I liken it to a disease. Not a disease I will die from, but one that really limits my effectiveness in the life that God gave me to make a specific, profound impact. When I try to control and fix and rescue everyone, I don't give God a chance to be God. Being limited in my potential is not at all acceptable to me, but the possibility of limiting God's potential for impact in my life is, for me, a 911 emergency.
My dearest friend and mentor, Jennifer, has been faithful to walk alongside me while I seek to remove this "thorn" from my side. She has applauded my successes and lovingly redirected me in my failures. She has encouraged and instructed me. She has rebuked me when I needed rebuking. Most of what I have "known" up to this point, has just been head knowledge. I have known how I needed to think, act, react.... but it was not usually my default or gut-reaction. Deep inside, I have still been wanting people to be happy, especially with me. I have wanted to NOT want that. That seems like not enough, but the beautiful truth is.... It is. Desire to change-- I mean, true, heartfelt, passionate, whatever-it-takes desire-- is the first step. There are many steps after that, but at least it is a movement in the right direction.
Over the past several months, I've had the same not-Earth-shattering thought, that recently kind of shattered my Earth. If I want to be rid of people pleasing and counterfeit compassion (which is really just self-promotion,) I have to run in the opposite direction. That actually means choosing actions that will obviously and rapidly bring people-dis-pleasing. I have to try to be unpopular, not funny, not cute, not smart, not loving/loveable, not generous, not good... Ugh... not good. All those things that I want to be seen as, have to fall from my hands. I don't intend to do this in a weird, contrived way, where I shave my head and say mean things, and steal cookies from little children, because that would just draw a lot of attention for no discernible, intentional reason. The point is not to try to make people mad, but to stop trying to NOT MAKE PEOPLE MAD. The point is not to look ugly, but to stop trying so hard to not look ugly. It's not about being stingy and having cold love, but to stop trying so hard to prove my love. (Especially by saying "yes" to things I really want to say "no" to, but don't want to say "no" because then I can't be the hero I want you to think I am.) In short, I will not compromise my values of love, honor, mercy, justice, grace, etc.... but in doing so I also will not exalt or promote myself above God or anyone else. Easier said than done.
Did you know that to truly love someone, you cannot think about the ways (even tiny, inconsequential ways,) that you are better than them? And if you are afraid of what they might think of you and what you do or do not do, you are really not loving them. 1 John 4:18 says "there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear." If I'm worrying about what you think, what I'm really worrying about is that in some way you will be better than me. And by not wanting you to be better than me, logically it's because I want to be better than you. That's not love. That punches a lot of holes in my "compassion," doesn't it? Fear and love are not compatible. Ever.
Recently I was challenged (twice) to do the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge. (If you have no idea what this is, click here for an explanation: http://www.alsa.org/fight-als/ice-bucket-challenge.html
Truth be told I'm not a fan of cold water on my head, BUT... That's not the reason I didn't do it. If it was just about physical discomfort, I would have done it. When I was first challenged, I had this terrible uneasy feeling that I couldn't put my finger on. At first I thought it was fear of the cold water or the ice cubes hitting me in the head. But I knew that wasn't it. It wasn't that I didn't want to donate... I do care about the people who have been diagnosed with this disease, or are suffering with it now, or have lost loved ones. If you don't believe me, you didn't read the first half of this ridiculously long blog. It took me probably a week to figure out why I knew for sure I could not and would not pour a bucket of ice over my head and post the video of it on Facebook.
It was because the only reason I would have done it, was to satisfy the demands of other people. I, in my heart, did not want to do it. I want to move forward in health and healing towards TRULY loving my fellow human beings more than I want to make you happy for 1 minute on Facebook. The 3-weeks-ago Kari would have dumped ice on her head for one reason and one reason only: just to not make people mad, or make them think I wasn't caring or generous, or cool. (Punny! Cool! Ice!)
But when you're trying to get healed from something that is crippling you, you stop feeding the disease. My disease of people pleasing is nowhere near as awful as ALS. Not even close. But, if the people who have ALS could be rid of their disease by just changing a wrong attitude or mindset that they have persisted in their whole life, I would bet 100% of them would do it in a heartbeat. So I donated, and I didn't dump. People got mad at me. It felt bad. It wasn't easy. I didn't do it perfectly this time, but I can tell you confidently that I am healthier in my head and heart than I was 2 weeks ago, and the next time this kind of thing comes around again, I will know what to do. It will get easier and feel more natural. Some day, true other-person-focused, dead-to-self compassion will be my gut reaction. And then, God will actually be able to use me to accomplish His purposes for some of the sick, broken, wounded, hurting, needy people who cross my path. People who desperately need true compassion, disentangled from my own warped, self-serving motives. I'm not there yet, but I'm closer (way closer) than I ever imagined I could be. I'm getting there. If you're on the same road, let's encourage one another.
If you hated this blog and found it incredibly boring, neurotic, self-absorbed and confusing, please let me know in the comments below. :) It would be good for me to deal with that. OH, and if you did do the ice bucket challenge, or posted your bra color to promote breast cancer awareness, or any other of the hundreds of bandwagon things I will not be participating in, PLEASE (hear me) please do not take one word of this as an indictment of your choices. If I were gluten intolerant, I would not expect you to not eat a piece of bread in front of me. What the Lord has put upon me to help me to get free, is my prescription. Not necessarily yours.
If deep introspection and overthinking annoys the crap out of you, stop reading now. I'm about to come across as highly neurotic and maybe in need of counseling. I'm working on it. Two weeks from now I probably won't feel this way. This is just where I'm at today. (And, to varying degrees, my whole life. Haha.)
If you don't know me that well, here is a glimpse into my head. Other peoples' suffering is pretty much intolerable to me. If you get hurt, like a cut or stub your toe, or worse-- You break your leg and the bone is sticking out through your flesh-- I can't stand it. This goes beyond just "squeamish." I can feel your pain. And not just physical pain... emotional, mental, spiritual... any kind of pain is up for me to grab. When the news reports something horrific happening to someone, I instantly, mentally, emotionally and spiritually step into that person's skin. I have to will myself to STOP thinking about it. Sometimes I can't. I pray for them. (This is called Identification Intercession, and it's a gift I didn't ask for, and don't yet know how to use properly.) Sometimes (this is when it gets toxic,) it's hard for me to just let it go and give it over to God. I know I'm not God and I can't "fix" them, but sometimes I get really, really stuck. It's a daily battle. It's called being "co-dependent," and it's something I am desperate to be rid of. Not the compassion part of it, or the identification intercession, but the taking-responsibility-for things-that-are-not-my-responsibility part.
If you've asked me if I've seen such-and-such a movie, the answer is probably "no." I like movies... well, sort of. Unfortunately plot structure of almost any story requires that there be some kind of conflict and then a conflict resolution. No one writes a story where everything is great and just stays that way. For most people, that would be really boring. I, on the other hand, would love that movie. Because when bad things happen to people in movies, that hurts my heart/head too. I know it's not real. But it's hard for me to not hurt for the possibility that someone might go through that. Violence in a movie physically hurts me.
This tyrannical burden of other people's problems extends even to people just being disappointed, unhappy, angry, sad and hurt... especially when it's with me. Hence, my lifelong daily battle with people pleasing. I loathe it. I try to not fall into it, and I make progress. I am freer from it today than I was a year ago. But I see that it's a multi-layered problem that goes very deep, and I'm not finished. Yet.
I used to have a tremendous amount of trouble saying "no" to people. Because of course if you say "no," the person will be disappointed, which was unacceptable. Never mind the treadmill I was running on to keep all the plates spinning in the air so that no one was ever disappointed. But, inevitably, I was still disappointing people, no matter what I did. I would try to counter that with making one or more people exceedingly happy. Not sure what the numerical ratio of happy people to unhappy people creates my warped sense of "balance", but even when I thought it was working, deep down I knew it wasn't working.
By now you are most likely 1.) bored, 2.) thinking I'm incredibly self-absorbed and sick, 3.) wondering what the point of all of this is, or 4.) some combination or all of the above. I'm hovering between wanting to relieve you of those feelings and needing to say what I need to say.
I say all of this so that you can know what is at stake. What I am working very hard to be rid of. This counterfeit bastardization of "compassion" is not useful to anyone or anything. It is a hindrance that needs to be removed and/or repaired. I liken it to a disease. Not a disease I will die from, but one that really limits my effectiveness in the life that God gave me to make a specific, profound impact. When I try to control and fix and rescue everyone, I don't give God a chance to be God. Being limited in my potential is not at all acceptable to me, but the possibility of limiting God's potential for impact in my life is, for me, a 911 emergency.
My dearest friend and mentor, Jennifer, has been faithful to walk alongside me while I seek to remove this "thorn" from my side. She has applauded my successes and lovingly redirected me in my failures. She has encouraged and instructed me. She has rebuked me when I needed rebuking. Most of what I have "known" up to this point, has just been head knowledge. I have known how I needed to think, act, react.... but it was not usually my default or gut-reaction. Deep inside, I have still been wanting people to be happy, especially with me. I have wanted to NOT want that. That seems like not enough, but the beautiful truth is.... It is. Desire to change-- I mean, true, heartfelt, passionate, whatever-it-takes desire-- is the first step. There are many steps after that, but at least it is a movement in the right direction.
Over the past several months, I've had the same not-Earth-shattering thought, that recently kind of shattered my Earth. If I want to be rid of people pleasing and counterfeit compassion (which is really just self-promotion,) I have to run in the opposite direction. That actually means choosing actions that will obviously and rapidly bring people-dis-pleasing. I have to try to be unpopular, not funny, not cute, not smart, not loving/loveable, not generous, not good... Ugh... not good. All those things that I want to be seen as, have to fall from my hands. I don't intend to do this in a weird, contrived way, where I shave my head and say mean things, and steal cookies from little children, because that would just draw a lot of attention for no discernible, intentional reason. The point is not to try to make people mad, but to stop trying to NOT MAKE PEOPLE MAD. The point is not to look ugly, but to stop trying so hard to not look ugly. It's not about being stingy and having cold love, but to stop trying so hard to prove my love. (Especially by saying "yes" to things I really want to say "no" to, but don't want to say "no" because then I can't be the hero I want you to think I am.) In short, I will not compromise my values of love, honor, mercy, justice, grace, etc.... but in doing so I also will not exalt or promote myself above God or anyone else. Easier said than done.
Did you know that to truly love someone, you cannot think about the ways (even tiny, inconsequential ways,) that you are better than them? And if you are afraid of what they might think of you and what you do or do not do, you are really not loving them. 1 John 4:18 says "there is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear." If I'm worrying about what you think, what I'm really worrying about is that in some way you will be better than me. And by not wanting you to be better than me, logically it's because I want to be better than you. That's not love. That punches a lot of holes in my "compassion," doesn't it? Fear and love are not compatible. Ever.
Recently I was challenged (twice) to do the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge. (If you have no idea what this is, click here for an explanation: http://www.alsa.org/fight-als/ice-bucket-challenge.html
Truth be told I'm not a fan of cold water on my head, BUT... That's not the reason I didn't do it. If it was just about physical discomfort, I would have done it. When I was first challenged, I had this terrible uneasy feeling that I couldn't put my finger on. At first I thought it was fear of the cold water or the ice cubes hitting me in the head. But I knew that wasn't it. It wasn't that I didn't want to donate... I do care about the people who have been diagnosed with this disease, or are suffering with it now, or have lost loved ones. If you don't believe me, you didn't read the first half of this ridiculously long blog. It took me probably a week to figure out why I knew for sure I could not and would not pour a bucket of ice over my head and post the video of it on Facebook.
It was because the only reason I would have done it, was to satisfy the demands of other people. I, in my heart, did not want to do it. I want to move forward in health and healing towards TRULY loving my fellow human beings more than I want to make you happy for 1 minute on Facebook. The 3-weeks-ago Kari would have dumped ice on her head for one reason and one reason only: just to not make people mad, or make them think I wasn't caring or generous, or cool. (Punny! Cool! Ice!)
But when you're trying to get healed from something that is crippling you, you stop feeding the disease. My disease of people pleasing is nowhere near as awful as ALS. Not even close. But, if the people who have ALS could be rid of their disease by just changing a wrong attitude or mindset that they have persisted in their whole life, I would bet 100% of them would do it in a heartbeat. So I donated, and I didn't dump. People got mad at me. It felt bad. It wasn't easy. I didn't do it perfectly this time, but I can tell you confidently that I am healthier in my head and heart than I was 2 weeks ago, and the next time this kind of thing comes around again, I will know what to do. It will get easier and feel more natural. Some day, true other-person-focused, dead-to-self compassion will be my gut reaction. And then, God will actually be able to use me to accomplish His purposes for some of the sick, broken, wounded, hurting, needy people who cross my path. People who desperately need true compassion, disentangled from my own warped, self-serving motives. I'm not there yet, but I'm closer (way closer) than I ever imagined I could be. I'm getting there. If you're on the same road, let's encourage one another.
If you hated this blog and found it incredibly boring, neurotic, self-absorbed and confusing, please let me know in the comments below. :) It would be good for me to deal with that. OH, and if you did do the ice bucket challenge, or posted your bra color to promote breast cancer awareness, or any other of the hundreds of bandwagon things I will not be participating in, PLEASE (hear me) please do not take one word of this as an indictment of your choices. If I were gluten intolerant, I would not expect you to not eat a piece of bread in front of me. What the Lord has put upon me to help me to get free, is my prescription. Not necessarily yours.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Alive. I am so alive today!! I almost collapsed yesterday. Well, truthfully, I did collapse. Something hit me like a ton of bricks, and I was halfway through my first Saturday morning Jazzercise class when I realized, "I might not make it today!" I was dizzy, nauseated and weak. I told the class manager to call Peggy, my class owner, and see if she could find a sub for my second class. Thankfully, God provided a reprieve for me and miraculously, inexplicably, no one showed up for the 9:30 class.
I gathered up my things, staggered to my car, drove home, dragged myself up the stairs and into the bathroom. I took a hot bath, and then got into bed. I literally felt like I was in the grave. It was beyond exhaustion. It was mental, emotional physical and very much spiritual.
I don't know how long I had been lying there (hours?) when my friend Jennifer texted me that she had gotten my SOS message. We were supposed to get together last night, but I had called her on the way home from my class to say I was extremely ill and we might have to change plans. (I hate canceling... I was still holding onto hope that somehow I might just perk up after a nap.) Greg and the kids were away all day at a BattleBots competition in Waukesha (thanks be to God again for small miracles!) so I told her I might need her to come over and let Buddy out. I literally could not get out of bed, or even lift my head.
She asked for my garage door code, and before I knew it, she was there. In my room, seeing me at my lowest. She said, "Awww, you just need a Momma!" She had brought all kinds of energy foods and drinks, and honestly, the sight of them repulsed me, but I thanked her anyways.
And then, she began to war for me.
I don't remember a lot of what was said, I just remember her asking me to repent of anything I needed to repent of... and that's when the floodgates broke. Rivers of JUNK I have been holding on to for far too long came bursting forth. I cried and sobbed and drooled, face down in my bed, a sweaty, mangled mess. I opened all the ugly little junk drawers of my heart and dumped them out. Life began to seep back into my bones. I felt lighter... still weak, but hopeful.
We talked for a while, she made me eat string cheese and chug Gatorade. We shared our hearts, and she shared wisdom and told stories and got my mind off ME. We laughed. She ordered me to stay in my bed the whole rest of the day, (which I did), and hugged me and left.
I drifted in and out of sleep the rest of the afternoon. I was still physically depleted, but the oppression, depression and heaviness was gone. As I was lying there, God gave me a little glimpse of some of what had lead up to this day and this "breakdown."
I will apologize in advance if this parable sounds just like the last one I wrote, about the car that needs to be restored. Apparently this is the kind of message He's trying to send me again. Maybe I didn't get it the first time. Maybe I have to learn it in layers. Maybe it's only for me, and you don't need to hear it, but maybe by sharing it I can teach it to you so you can hold me accountable. Or maybe you're like me and you've been doing the same thing.
God showed me that He and I were in a house. The house was a mess. The house represented my life, and he showed me that everyone's life is a house, and they're all messy. Some are bigger than others, some are messier than others. We get invited into one anothers' "houses", and if you're doing relationship correctly, you get to see the mess that's there. You might even get to help God clean it up a little bit. You only get to clean a small area, literally the corner of a corner table, maybe. The trick is to let God do the cleaning, and when it's your turn to do something, to do it wisely, within your limits and not in such a way that you actually increase the problem.
Then God zoomed in on me. He showed me, over in the corner of the room he was cleaning. And I, very quietly, so as not to be seen, picked up some trash, and put it in my pocket. In truth, I had been filling my pockets with junk and trash and debris that needed to be thrown away. Not kept in my pocket, not saved in a drawer. He showed me what I was collecting, and it was nasty. He said, "Daughter, it's not cleaning if it just gets transferred to you and defiles you. It needs to be exposed and evicted. It needs to GO! It's not yours to collect or hang on to. Put it down, throw it out, get rid of it!"
The trash wasn't all mine. It was little pieces of things from those I love and cherish, who are hurting, who have gone through (and are still going through) a lot. Psalm 56:8 says that God has collected our tears in a bottle, and he has recorded them all in his book. It's not our job to do that. He's already done that. How pointless to re-do a job someone better and more qualified than you has already done!! What a waste of time and energy! No wonder I was flat on my face and sick to the point of death! I was carrying a burden that wasn't mine to carry, that wasn't even REAL, because it has already been finished by the work of the cross.
So I emptied my pockets. I quit picking up stuff unless I'm going to deal with it properly. I rest in the process of knowing that "He who began a good work in (you, me, all of us!) will bring it to completion" as Philippians 1:6 promises! I thank God for good friends who aren't afraid of my messy house and who will let me into theirs. I promise to clean with care.
I gathered up my things, staggered to my car, drove home, dragged myself up the stairs and into the bathroom. I took a hot bath, and then got into bed. I literally felt like I was in the grave. It was beyond exhaustion. It was mental, emotional physical and very much spiritual.
I don't know how long I had been lying there (hours?) when my friend Jennifer texted me that she had gotten my SOS message. We were supposed to get together last night, but I had called her on the way home from my class to say I was extremely ill and we might have to change plans. (I hate canceling... I was still holding onto hope that somehow I might just perk up after a nap.) Greg and the kids were away all day at a BattleBots competition in Waukesha (thanks be to God again for small miracles!) so I told her I might need her to come over and let Buddy out. I literally could not get out of bed, or even lift my head.
She asked for my garage door code, and before I knew it, she was there. In my room, seeing me at my lowest. She said, "Awww, you just need a Momma!" She had brought all kinds of energy foods and drinks, and honestly, the sight of them repulsed me, but I thanked her anyways.
And then, she began to war for me.
I don't remember a lot of what was said, I just remember her asking me to repent of anything I needed to repent of... and that's when the floodgates broke. Rivers of JUNK I have been holding on to for far too long came bursting forth. I cried and sobbed and drooled, face down in my bed, a sweaty, mangled mess. I opened all the ugly little junk drawers of my heart and dumped them out. Life began to seep back into my bones. I felt lighter... still weak, but hopeful.
We talked for a while, she made me eat string cheese and chug Gatorade. We shared our hearts, and she shared wisdom and told stories and got my mind off ME. We laughed. She ordered me to stay in my bed the whole rest of the day, (which I did), and hugged me and left.
I drifted in and out of sleep the rest of the afternoon. I was still physically depleted, but the oppression, depression and heaviness was gone. As I was lying there, God gave me a little glimpse of some of what had lead up to this day and this "breakdown."
I will apologize in advance if this parable sounds just like the last one I wrote, about the car that needs to be restored. Apparently this is the kind of message He's trying to send me again. Maybe I didn't get it the first time. Maybe I have to learn it in layers. Maybe it's only for me, and you don't need to hear it, but maybe by sharing it I can teach it to you so you can hold me accountable. Or maybe you're like me and you've been doing the same thing.
God showed me that He and I were in a house. The house was a mess. The house represented my life, and he showed me that everyone's life is a house, and they're all messy. Some are bigger than others, some are messier than others. We get invited into one anothers' "houses", and if you're doing relationship correctly, you get to see the mess that's there. You might even get to help God clean it up a little bit. You only get to clean a small area, literally the corner of a corner table, maybe. The trick is to let God do the cleaning, and when it's your turn to do something, to do it wisely, within your limits and not in such a way that you actually increase the problem.
Then God zoomed in on me. He showed me, over in the corner of the room he was cleaning. And I, very quietly, so as not to be seen, picked up some trash, and put it in my pocket. In truth, I had been filling my pockets with junk and trash and debris that needed to be thrown away. Not kept in my pocket, not saved in a drawer. He showed me what I was collecting, and it was nasty. He said, "Daughter, it's not cleaning if it just gets transferred to you and defiles you. It needs to be exposed and evicted. It needs to GO! It's not yours to collect or hang on to. Put it down, throw it out, get rid of it!"
The trash wasn't all mine. It was little pieces of things from those I love and cherish, who are hurting, who have gone through (and are still going through) a lot. Psalm 56:8 says that God has collected our tears in a bottle, and he has recorded them all in his book. It's not our job to do that. He's already done that. How pointless to re-do a job someone better and more qualified than you has already done!! What a waste of time and energy! No wonder I was flat on my face and sick to the point of death! I was carrying a burden that wasn't mine to carry, that wasn't even REAL, because it has already been finished by the work of the cross.
So I emptied my pockets. I quit picking up stuff unless I'm going to deal with it properly. I rest in the process of knowing that "He who began a good work in (you, me, all of us!) will bring it to completion" as Philippians 1:6 promises! I thank God for good friends who aren't afraid of my messy house and who will let me into theirs. I promise to clean with care.
Thursday, April 24, 2014
Women's W.A.I.T. Training... Worship, Accountability, Intimacy, Transformation.
W.A.I.T…..
Why are we here?
Tonight I kick off my first night of the fitness ministry I've been leading for the past couple of years.... in a new location: Grace Church. It's a rebirth: something "old" being made new. And God gave me the perfect word picture for it this morning.
Today in my time with the Lord, he showed me a picture. It was of an old, rusty shell of a car. If you know my family, you know that ever since my husband Greg bought a ’58 Thunderbird 5 years ago and began the process of restoring it, we have been a “car family.” I have learned more about classic car restoration than I ever imagined I would. (Or wanted to!)
Obviously, when a car is brand new, it’s a beautiful, shiny monument to human ambition and achievement. It is made to serve as specific function, and to bring some measure of happiness to it’s owner, as well as bringing glory to it’s manufacturer. If you are very satisfied with the quality and performance of your vehicle, you are likely to buy another one from the same manufacturer again. The manufacturer’s identity is linked with the quality of that car, for better or worse.
Our Manufacturer is God. He has created each one of us with a specific purpose and destiny. We are beautifully, uniquely, marvelously made. We reflect his glory in ways no one else can. But many of us are no longer “showroom quality.” I’m not talking about external features or appearances. I’m talking about the bumps in the road of life that cause the dents, scratches, wear and tear, rust, cracked windows, mileage and sometimes even major damage that alters us on the inside (and sometimes the outside too.)
When someone loves to restore cars (like my hubby and many of his friends,) they see a rusty old car sitting in a junk pile, and they can visualize what that car WAS, and what it COULD BE. They can look past the damage, the missing parts, flat tires, peeling paint, rotting seats, etc. That is how God views us. We are all a work in progress. The ultimate goal is to have us functioning fully in the gifts and glory that God intended when he created us. Sometimes it takes years, lots of patience, hard work, and a lot of cost. Thankfully, Jesus paid the price in full on the cross. He bought everything you will ever need to become all that God intended for you to be. He purchased YOU with his blood, and carved your name in His nail-scarred hands. He has big plans for you. He wants to roll up his sleeves and partner with you right now to move forward in your full restoration.
When Greg was restoring his car, his car could never add anything to the process. His car could never say to him, “Go in the house and rest…. I’ll rewire myself today. Take a break, I’ll take it from here, thanks!” That would be ridiculous! Plus, Greg really liked doing the work. All the car had to do was sit there and be a car, and let Greg do the needed work. The car never reached into it’s pocket and said, “Here’s $100 for those parts I need.” Greg had to buy them. The car never said, “I know I was originally a Ford, but I would prefer to be a Cadillac. Can you completely change my identity?” No, most car restorers try to make the car look as much like it did when it was new as possible. And when they are finished (which is the standing joke around here, as I have discovered the car will never truly be finished… and so it is with US as humans while we are on earth,) no one will tell Greg, “You and your car did a great job restoring it.” No, they tell him that HE did a lot of work on it. No one would give the car any credit for doing anything. That would be preposterous and frankly pretty insulting to the restorer.
That’s our job with God. He does the restoring. We submit. He footed the bill, he gets the glory. HE decides what gets worked on and how, and how long it’s going to take, and how it’s going to be done. And his number one goal is to get you out of the garage!! No one works on a car and keeps it hidden under a cover. He wants to get you out there NOW… even before you’re done. Car guys LOVE to show each other what they’ve gotten done, and what they’re still working on. They never leave their cars at home just because they’re not finished…. because as I said, they’re never finished. :) And you know who sometimes gets the most attention at a car show? The guy who shows up with the car that needs the most work. That is exciting.
What does all this have to do with fitness? I believe that as we work our bodies physically, it helps us see what needs to be restored in our hearts. It shines a flashlight on those wires that might not be connecting properly, so to speak, or those patterns and bondages that are holding us back. It helps us develop the mental and emotional strength needed to trust God to work all things for our good and HIs glory. Sometimes it’s just a matter of clearing out the cobwebs in our brains so we can gain a new perspective on problems. Often, when we sweat and physically struggle alongside one another, we see that we truly are all made of the same stuff, and we really are all level at the foot of the cross. Barriers and masks come off and people start being real. Transparency develops, and issues that had a lot of strength and power in the darkness are suddenly exposed and dismantled. Freedom ensues!!
He didn’t choose us when we were already “finished.” He chose us when we were quite frankly a major eyesore! 1 Corinthians 1:27 reminds us that “he chose the foolish things to shame the wise, the weak things to shame the strong.” We’re all weak things in one way or another. Our only strength is the joy of the Lord, being rooted and grounded in Christ. One day we will indeed shed these faulty, failing earthly tents for new heavenly bodies; but what we will take with us is a heart that has been refined and purified as we move forward in Him who loves us!
Journeying with you in JOY,
Kari
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