The will to forget

Jesus, you know just how far the east is from the west. But I had forgotten. My daughter was in the backseat, groggy after being lifted out of bed at 11pm, and unhappy after having her little arm maneuvered through the shoulderbelt again. I was unhappy that she was unhappy, because it was my fault. Or so I kept telling myself.

Earlier in the day we were headed out the door for a children's event and in her excitement she slipped out the front door ahead of me and went straight for the stairs. Her brother was lagging behind, being naughty. I had one hand free so I snatched up my little girl from the precipice of the stairs, envisioning her fall end over end to the bottom. She cried in protest, but I was dealing with Mr Little Naughty pants who'd decided to drag blankie along on our walk rather than leave it on the couch as I had instructed. My little girl kept on crying. In a few minutes I started to get the idea that she was really hurting, not just angry at me. And an hour later when even being in my arms was no consolation, I knew it was for real. She was in pain, and it was my fault.

I guess you're probably thinking that I shouldn't be too hard on myself. After all, I was trying to protect her from a fall. And I suppose you're right, but I couldn't get over it. All those tears. She was in pain. And my mind went over and over the what-ifs. What if I hadn't let her out ahead of me? What if I hadn't been upset at my son...was I too rough with her? What if I had thought more clearly and not overreacted? Been more gentle? When my husband found out after work about what had happened, he seemed shocked that I hadn't already taken her to the doctor. It was by then 7pm and she wouldn't use the arm and cried if you touched it. What if I hadn't taken her to the doctor fast enough? I thought it was a pulled muscle, but what if I was wrong?

Driving to the ER at 11pm, I was in a dark place. By the time I was pulling into the parking lot at the hospital I was feeling as though my husband would leave me and that my kids would be better off without me. Some part of me tried to take a stand of faith. No, God's grace can cover this sin too. He can make good come of this. But all night I had been sipping a dangerous cocktail of fear and self-pity, and I couldn't summon up the faith. Weeping, I cried out and begged God to break into my world and speak to me.

I had been listening to Christian radio, hoping for something to encourage me, but up to that moment all of the songs had been of the happy do-wop variety, innocuous. But with the next song that came on, it felt as if Jesus were in the car with me. It was a Casting Crowns' song, a favorite of mine, and the words go like this:


Here I am, Lord, and I'm drowning in your sea of forgetfulness
The chains of yesterday surround me
I yearn for peace and rest
I don't want to end up where You found me
And it echoes in my mind, keeps me awake tonight
I know You've cast my sin as far as the east is from the west
And I stand before You now as though I've never sinned
But today I feel like I'm just one mistake away from You leaving me this way

Jesus, can You show me just how far the east is from the west
'cause I can't bear to see the man I've been come rising up in me again
In the arms of Your mercy I find rest
'cause You know just how far the east is from the west
From one scarred hand to the other

I start the day, the war begins, endless reminding of my sin
Time and time again Your truth is drowned out by the storm I'm in
Today I feel like I'm just one mistake away from You leaving me this way

I know You've washed me white, turned my darkness into light
I need Your peace to get me through, to get me through this night
I can't live by what I feel, but by the truth Your word reveals
I'm not holding on to You, but You're holding on to me
You're holding on to me

I wept. As far as the east is from the west. I don't have to see the man I've been come rising up in my again. In the arms of Your mercy I find rest.

When the song got to the bridge, it was as though Jesus was in the car speaking directly to me in His own voice and not the song. Can't live by what I feel, but by the truth your word reveals. I'm not holding on to You, but You're holding on to me. Not by what I feel. I had known better, but I had caved to feelings. But it was forgiven. He was holding on to me even when I had let go of His hand.

From that moment on I had to willfully reject the thoughts that condemned me. He had condemned my condemnation. In the face of doctors who I could tell didn't believe my story about what had happened, looking at me with veiled contempt for clearly having abused my daughter and lied about it. When my daughter was screaming on the X-ray table as her hurting arm was bent and shaped to the Tech's needs. When they wrapped her little arm in a splint that I knew would be a daily reminder to me of my failure to keep her from harm. "There is therefore now no condemnation for those that are in Christ Jesus."


Will I be more thoughtful and careful? yes. Will I cry when she continues to heal and hurt? oh yes. And will I walk in Jesus' sea of forgetfulness? Yes, I must. For He has forgiven and forgotten whatever wrongdoing I committed, and He is my Lord. And it occurs to me that maybe my constant self-reminding and self condemning is a greater sin than having been too hasty and rough on my little girl. If I reject Him and embrace condemnation, what hope is left for me? And how can I reject a forgiveness that cost Him so much, just so I can hate myself? It doesn't even make sense.

So today when my little girl wakes up, I'm going to love her through the pain, not waste energy beating myself up. That is what God requires of me right now. We live in the now and walk with God in the now. "Then" has been cast as far as the east is from the west.

Only dust

Yesterday was a hard one with the kids. They seemed unusually naughty and I felt unusually wiped out, and unable to cope. I didn't have any idea how to be a good mom, or what they needed. And honestly, my mind was often on what *I* most needed--some peace and a good nap.

I felt really badly about how I had handled the day's trials, and at Bible study last night I shared about what I was feeling with the group, and got some encouragement. One friend reminded me not to be too hard on myself, and I appreciated the reminder. But on the drive home I got to wondering, "Why? If I'm not hard on myself, is that being too relaxed about my sinfulness? Is that just taking advantage of God's grace?"

My fatigue kept plaguing me, and I barely had the strength to consider the answer to the question. I realized that I just don't have anything to give some days. And I told God so. And He answered back to my heart--Of course you have nothing to give; you are only made of dust. You were made to be filled with Me. And I realized that, once again, I was trying to do everything in my own strength, with my own goodness, but I had none. And I was never meant to walk apart from my Maker's presence, on my own strength. It was to be filled with His life and goodness that I was made--like an empty pot.

This morning, I called my Mom to see if she could take the kids for awhile, but she couldn't. And I just wanted to curl up in a ball in bed and be alone! But every time I have turned my heart to my Heavenly Father, I've found strength and wisdom and kindness enough to be Mom today. And to be me. One day I hope that I won't have to keep repeatedly turning to Him and offering my will and desires back to Him. I hope I can just BE with Him, all day. But I am so thankful that I CAN keep turning back and finding what I need moment by moment as I surrender.

I know if I keep entrusting my heart & life to Him, He'll keep caring for me, and for others through me.

An 11:11 Wish

The last couple of weeks have been hard for me. I'm not the type of person who likes to make waves with others. I usually avoid it. Whenever anyone is upset with me or disagrees with me, I feel like I am the one who is wrong and even feel badly or guilty. And when I share the things that I feel so deeply convicted about as being true about God and how He wants to interact with us, I get really nervous. Everyday I pray, earnestly asking God not to let me speak (or write) anything untrue, but only what is true and what He wants people to know. And everyday I find myself moved to share honestly, and I agonize over the words I choose, always checking my heart to make sure I write from a desire to help others and never to make myself look smart or manipulate anyone. And sometimes, I do feel the Spirit stop me or convict me.

About 10 days ago my sister in law suggested I write a Facebook post about the Trinity, since I told her what I had learned about it had been so influential in my life. I balked at the suggestion, knowing that what I would have to write would be the most controversial thing I had ever said (or at least feel that way). If I weren't me, I would write angry comments like "Who do you think you are?" in response. Yet I grew up feeling like I was missing something in my faith, and God generously spoke into my life to guide me closer to Him. It seemed like something worth sharing.

Anyway, I've lived in a state of anxiety for awhile now, and after the last post I felt like I needed some help. Some encouragement. I wished I were stronger and could just keep going, and I suppose I could, but last night at 11:11 God asked me what I wished for. When I was a child I used to play a game with a friend where everyday at 11:11 we'd make a wish, since it was the only time that all of the numbers were the same. So it struck me funny that God would play that game with me, but I felt His touch and knew it was Him. So I thought for a moment and told Him I needed some encouragement.

This morning first thing I got a timely word of encouragement from an unexpected source. It was exactly what i needed to hear, though I could not have guessed beforehand just what would buoy me up so well. Thank God for His kindness toward us, who are so weak.

A little help

Today God showed His compassion to me once again. Last night I was sick and didn't get very much sleep and couldn't do anything about it. We had a long day yesterday and Father's day would likely be just as busy, and I began to worry about how I was going to make it. I didn't want to let anyone down, but if my kids woke up at their normal time I wasn't sure I would even be able to get out of bed, much less do all the day demanded. Anyway, somewhere in the middle of the night I prayed and told God that I was at His mercy. He had cared for me in the past and I knew I'd make it through the coming day if I just placed myself and my needs completely in His hands. Well, I finally fell asleep somewhere around 530am, but the kids didn't wake up till almost 10. More than that, Kurt let me stay in bed and got them up himself, even though it was Father's Day and he should have been the one lounging around. Thank God for these small kindnesses.

Thy Will be done

I used to make myself pray "Thy will be done" because I knew I should. That was what I was supposed to say, right? But when I read Dallas Willard's book The Divine Conspiracy I had my eyes opened to a new way of understanding the Lord's prayer--these things we pray with joy and enthusiasm--we say "Thy will be done" with an exclamation mark and a "hallelujah!". Or at least we should...He talked about a God in his book that I barely knew, a God who is joyful like waves crashing on the shore, a God whose goodness is too deep to fathom. I wanted to know that God, and I wanted to pray the Lord's prayer with an exclamation mark.

I began by dwelling on the words of the prayer and asking the Lord to open my eyes to who He is. In time, I began to feel His heart, get a sense of His longings for the world. When I got to "Thy will be done," I had a deep sense of the world's need for His good will, for His kingdom "to come." Justice, mercy, love, compassion...and it started with me. At least in my own little life I could see Him bringing about His will each day, and it was truly good. I was delighted and humbled and awed to see Him at work. And tonight I got to wondering what would happen if we all, who call on His Name, every day asked for His will to be done on earth--knowing, believing that He would answer and watching in eager expectation for that goodness. I think things would be drastically different. Not just because of the miraculous interventions which would come, but because of His goodness at work through each of us. Because of course we can't ask for His will to be done and then deny Him anything in us. Its a difficult process, but I have found it much more than worth it.

God's goodness has become like an anchor for me. Even when things are hard, I know and repeat to myself that He *is* good, no matter how I feel at that moment about life, I know that He is always within me and always good, and I will know that goodness. I want the whole world to know it! To have that anchor. To also be able to say enthusiastically, "Thy will be done, O wonderful Father! We need Your goodness, Your mercy, Your help. Come here through us and set things straight!"

Unbelievable Joy

Tonight I woke up sick, the really painful, miserable, drive-you-out-of-your-mind

kind of sick. As I sat up enduring it, I turned my mind and heart to the Lord, asking for His presence and help to endure the suffering until it had run its course (and of course for His mercy to end it). At some moments my pain was so intense I could barely keep Him in mind, but I determined not to give in to pain and let it consume me. Instead I determined to fix my mind and hope on my Lord and wait for Him to answer my cry for mercy.

It was surprisingly short-lived, and when it ended, I was left with a such a tremor of joy--He was so near. I felt almost a euphoria of peace, and so much joy welled up inside of me at being so near to Him. It wasn't merely relief at the end of suffering; I felt as though I were in heaven already, with Him, and it seemed to me that I couldn't remember ever having suffered before in my life. If you had asked me at that moment, I would have said with perfect honesty that I hadn't!

Immediately I realized that it was the perfect picture of what I had experienced earlier this morning, when the Lord showed me how I was covered by His goodness and headed to a destiny that was so unbelievably good it would overwhelm anything I had ever called "suffering". In fact, I thought of Carol's words in response to a previous entry--that we would look back and call the times we suffered the best times. The closeness to God and the joy I experienced as a result of this short trial made me give such thanks to God, and to see this trial as a GIFT. My friends, my fellow believers in Jesus Christ, we are headed to something unspeakably, unbelievably good. It is here for us now and goes on to eternity. I never would have imagined that suffering was part of the abundant life, but it turns out somehow that it is necessary to it, and the suffering itself is turned into a glory. Praise God whose goodness truly knows no limit!

The mantle of goodness

This morning I was lying in bed thinking about the day as usual, and was once again asked by the Lord what was bothering me. I was still thinking about goodness and suffering, and while I am more willing than before to believe that everything that happens to me is good, I kept imagining losing Kurt or my kids, and it felt so horrible.

At the moment of my confession to God, for just a moment, the red blanket I was lying under seemed to take on a divine quality. I knew God was helping me to understand something. The blanket spread over me in almost luxurious folds of soft fabric, and it seemed more like a king's mantle than my same old blanket. It was the mantle of a king who emanated goodness, and He had laid that goodness over me, over my life, as a generous gift. That goodness became my reality and felt total peace and joy.

For that moment I felt that nothing bad had ever or would ever happen to me. It was like breathing goodness or swimming in it. And yet after that fleeting glimpse ended, I said, "But Lord, it still hurts sometimes." Just then, in my mind, I saw myself walking with my son. His feet hurt and he was tired, but I knew we were going someplace truly wonderful. (I didn't have a specific place in mind and I don't think there is anywhere on earth that compares to the wonder and awe I perceived to be surrounding this Place, but maybe as a crude comparison we could say it was Disneyland). I could tell my son about "Disneyland" but he couldn't really understand, since he'd never been there before. All he knew was that his feet hurt, but I knew that if only he knew where we were going and what it meant, he would not think about his aching feet.

It is a timeless comparison, but it suddenly seemed very real and true to me. I had for a moment tasted the awesome goodness of God toward me, and experienced a taste of where those who call Jesus their Lord are headed. I hope I can keep that perspective in whatever comes. I pray that He helps me remember.