or are they boys, trying to pretend to be men just long enough to get you hooked.
Thursday, July 22, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
It's not the destination, it's the journey
Once upon a time there was a girl and a little boy. They were okay. The girl took the child by the hand and she led him through the dark woods, fought off scary monsters, and prepared picnics next to calm streams within meadows, as well as lunches atop grizzly mountains.
The child was unaware of the peril and turmoil raging so near as he was hypnotized by her song and the skip-to-my-lou she danced as she led him by the hand.
The girl had slain the fear each time through the light and hope in her heart. She knew beyond a shadow of doubt that her Heavenly Father held her other hand. Rather, she wasn’t guiding the child, but herself being led and rescued.
Sometimes she would confide loneliness to her Father above. She would tell him about how much she loves her child and how happy it makes her to hold his hand and sing. Though, now and then, she wishes for someone tangible to help her lead him though the dark woods. Someone to help her read the map, because it is written in riddles and there is no promise of a grand destination drawn (other than her Father’s house which is unreachable for the time being).
So, He grants her the relief from her lonely heart. He promises her comfort for the moment. So he sends her friends to visit her on the road from time to time; a friend for wise counsel, and one for comic relief. He sends her a friend whose journey has been more perilous than hers and who needs her more than she needs him. He sends her friends to distract, entertain, support, confide, dream, dance, and intellectualize.
But each friend has his own journey to either trudge or waltz. So while some companions travel with her for long periods, years; and some come in and out quickly, she is happy in their company and sad at their departure.
And as always, the two constants in the girl’s life are the child and her Father.
And the merry-go-round of friends and of dark woods versus calm meadows sometimes spins her around dizzyingly.
Until she drops.
And stops.
And plops down.
To sing to the child, and to rest against the strong chest of her Father, while He strokes her hair; while He sings in her ear; while he gives her refuge for the moment. And her weary legs rest and revive. Her lonely heart heals it’s lonesomeness as it finds its joy in the child’s singing.
She looks up at her Father, looks him square in the eye, and says, “Thank you.”
Then she adds, “When you think I am ready, will you bring me someone who doesn’t dance in, and then dance out? Will you bring me someone who will dance to my song, and love it? Father, will you bring me someone who will take your other hand so we can all journey this together?”
The girl doesn’t always know if she’s going the right way. Sometimes those monsters are scary to fight off all alone. Sometimes her hand gets sweaty and her voice hoarse, and leading the child now and then becomes burdensome.
She conveyed this to her Father, and she trusted Him to follow through because she knows His capacity to love is even greater than hers. She knows He wants her safe and happy.
So she gripped the child’s hand tighter and sang louder because she loves, and she is loved. She continued through the forests, meadows, and monsters with the knowledge that love conquers all and she can always find rest in the song of her Father. She can always lean against His solid stature.
Together, the girl and the child sing. Together, they skip-to-my-lou. Together they love, and together they wait.
The child was unaware of the peril and turmoil raging so near as he was hypnotized by her song and the skip-to-my-lou she danced as she led him by the hand.
The girl had slain the fear each time through the light and hope in her heart. She knew beyond a shadow of doubt that her Heavenly Father held her other hand. Rather, she wasn’t guiding the child, but herself being led and rescued.
Sometimes she would confide loneliness to her Father above. She would tell him about how much she loves her child and how happy it makes her to hold his hand and sing. Though, now and then, she wishes for someone tangible to help her lead him though the dark woods. Someone to help her read the map, because it is written in riddles and there is no promise of a grand destination drawn (other than her Father’s house which is unreachable for the time being).
So, He grants her the relief from her lonely heart. He promises her comfort for the moment. So he sends her friends to visit her on the road from time to time; a friend for wise counsel, and one for comic relief. He sends her a friend whose journey has been more perilous than hers and who needs her more than she needs him. He sends her friends to distract, entertain, support, confide, dream, dance, and intellectualize.
But each friend has his own journey to either trudge or waltz. So while some companions travel with her for long periods, years; and some come in and out quickly, she is happy in their company and sad at their departure.
And as always, the two constants in the girl’s life are the child and her Father.
And the merry-go-round of friends and of dark woods versus calm meadows sometimes spins her around dizzyingly.
Until she drops.
And stops.
And plops down.
To sing to the child, and to rest against the strong chest of her Father, while He strokes her hair; while He sings in her ear; while he gives her refuge for the moment. And her weary legs rest and revive. Her lonely heart heals it’s lonesomeness as it finds its joy in the child’s singing.
She looks up at her Father, looks him square in the eye, and says, “Thank you.”
Then she adds, “When you think I am ready, will you bring me someone who doesn’t dance in, and then dance out? Will you bring me someone who will dance to my song, and love it? Father, will you bring me someone who will take your other hand so we can all journey this together?”
The girl doesn’t always know if she’s going the right way. Sometimes those monsters are scary to fight off all alone. Sometimes her hand gets sweaty and her voice hoarse, and leading the child now and then becomes burdensome.
She conveyed this to her Father, and she trusted Him to follow through because she knows His capacity to love is even greater than hers. She knows He wants her safe and happy.
So she gripped the child’s hand tighter and sang louder because she loves, and she is loved. She continued through the forests, meadows, and monsters with the knowledge that love conquers all and she can always find rest in the song of her Father. She can always lean against His solid stature.
Together, the girl and the child sing. Together, they skip-to-my-lou. Together they love, and together they wait.
Friday, April 3, 2009
We Try To Be Who We Are Not
This was inspired by several people who have expressed frustration with members of the opposite sex and what they have noticed as a pattern in their lives. It was actually a couple emails I sent to encourage them and I have merged together. Happy reading!
Jessie
----------
We try to be who we are not. Or we try to figure out the intensions of our suitors. We second guess our worth, personalities, etc and tread cautiously. When we do this we are removing ourselves from being defined by God and we are not only defining ourselves (ourself) but we are doing it on a standard we THINK is desireable.
If the old cliches are true: we are our own worse critic or our own worse enemy, then what give us the right to manipulate or create our own definition of our worth? Isn’t it awkward and ironic that when we hold the bar to our own personal gold standard of self-value we always fall short... How sad and sorrowful! To be our worse enemy and yet also be the judge of our own character. No wonder people give up. How liberating it is when you realize that our father is so much more forgiving than we are (hence The Lord's Prayer).
When we find our self-definition based upon God's grace and by being authentic then we live our lives in states of happiness regardless of the circumstances surrounding us. We are no longer defined by who we think others want us to be, but rather, we are content in who we are. How awesome is that! To just be happy being you.
Sounds kind of like a kid, huh? Just because we're responsible adults doesn't mean we can't have a childlike sense of self-worth (not to be confused with a childlike sense of entitlement, which is a confusion quite often mistaken in today's society I fear!).
I know that I succumb to the world's definition of me. I have to remind myself fairly regularly and pray a lot to ask God to help me see myself as the woman he sees. I work with children quite often and you know, I can see SO MUCH potential and worth in them. These beautiful little personalities and hearts and they have NO IDEA of how wonderful they are. They are so wrapped up in the hardships of their little lives; it's so pervasive that they forget that they are just little buds, they haven’t bloomed yet. Doesn't our Father see that same thing in us? He sees our insecurities, finger pointing, blaming, gossiping, etc. and thinks about how if we could just acknowledge our beauty we wouldn't need to stoop to that in order to provide our false sense of worth/beauty. He wants to show us and wants us to THRIVE in it.
When we look at the systematic effects of finding our worth outside of ourselves and outside of God it leads us to our friendships and love relationships. When you spend your time burying your head in the sand in order to avoid the places that don’t live up to your own self-expectations, your true colors eventually show. This is where I find many of my friends and acquaintances when they are in life crises.
And the problem is that when push comes to shove, both you and your partner will feel duped at your phoniness and it will be too late. You really aren’t all the things you’ve claimed to be, things you thought you were, or wanted to be and couldn’t. When it comes out in the wash your lover or friend is so disappointed in who you really are that you turn around and find yourself alone. But you know what else, the people pleaser is going to be just as freaked out as his lover when the true colors show. He won’t even know the person he sees in the mirror: A person without definition when all the socialites waltz away. This happens because often times we fake it so good that we begin to believe ourselves.
What a nightmare that would be! To have times get tough, your true colors show, and it had fooled everyone, even you.
The strong muddle through it, strap up their boots, take their identity crisis head on and find out WHO they are and who they want to be. The weak continue to mask it, hoping they can fake it til they make it.
Your life is not a dress rehearsal. It is not a play where you get to have seven acts playing someone else, and then go on to the next show and new character. Eventually someone sees into your heart and loves you for what they see. How comforting to know that they love all those things about you and they are REALLY YOU. Love God, love yourself, love others, and watch yourself reap the bounty of blessings that follow! You can’t help it, you’re not focused on what you’re lacking or missing – you only have love.
Jessie
----------
We try to be who we are not. Or we try to figure out the intensions of our suitors. We second guess our worth, personalities, etc and tread cautiously. When we do this we are removing ourselves from being defined by God and we are not only defining ourselves (ourself) but we are doing it on a standard we THINK is desireable.
If the old cliches are true: we are our own worse critic or our own worse enemy, then what give us the right to manipulate or create our own definition of our worth? Isn’t it awkward and ironic that when we hold the bar to our own personal gold standard of self-value we always fall short... How sad and sorrowful! To be our worse enemy and yet also be the judge of our own character. No wonder people give up. How liberating it is when you realize that our father is so much more forgiving than we are (hence The Lord's Prayer).
When we find our self-definition based upon God's grace and by being authentic then we live our lives in states of happiness regardless of the circumstances surrounding us. We are no longer defined by who we think others want us to be, but rather, we are content in who we are. How awesome is that! To just be happy being you.
Sounds kind of like a kid, huh? Just because we're responsible adults doesn't mean we can't have a childlike sense of self-worth (not to be confused with a childlike sense of entitlement, which is a confusion quite often mistaken in today's society I fear!).
I know that I succumb to the world's definition of me. I have to remind myself fairly regularly and pray a lot to ask God to help me see myself as the woman he sees. I work with children quite often and you know, I can see SO MUCH potential and worth in them. These beautiful little personalities and hearts and they have NO IDEA of how wonderful they are. They are so wrapped up in the hardships of their little lives; it's so pervasive that they forget that they are just little buds, they haven’t bloomed yet. Doesn't our Father see that same thing in us? He sees our insecurities, finger pointing, blaming, gossiping, etc. and thinks about how if we could just acknowledge our beauty we wouldn't need to stoop to that in order to provide our false sense of worth/beauty. He wants to show us and wants us to THRIVE in it.
When we look at the systematic effects of finding our worth outside of ourselves and outside of God it leads us to our friendships and love relationships. When you spend your time burying your head in the sand in order to avoid the places that don’t live up to your own self-expectations, your true colors eventually show. This is where I find many of my friends and acquaintances when they are in life crises.
And the problem is that when push comes to shove, both you and your partner will feel duped at your phoniness and it will be too late. You really aren’t all the things you’ve claimed to be, things you thought you were, or wanted to be and couldn’t. When it comes out in the wash your lover or friend is so disappointed in who you really are that you turn around and find yourself alone. But you know what else, the people pleaser is going to be just as freaked out as his lover when the true colors show. He won’t even know the person he sees in the mirror: A person without definition when all the socialites waltz away. This happens because often times we fake it so good that we begin to believe ourselves.
What a nightmare that would be! To have times get tough, your true colors show, and it had fooled everyone, even you.
The strong muddle through it, strap up their boots, take their identity crisis head on and find out WHO they are and who they want to be. The weak continue to mask it, hoping they can fake it til they make it.
Your life is not a dress rehearsal. It is not a play where you get to have seven acts playing someone else, and then go on to the next show and new character. Eventually someone sees into your heart and loves you for what they see. How comforting to know that they love all those things about you and they are REALLY YOU. Love God, love yourself, love others, and watch yourself reap the bounty of blessings that follow! You can’t help it, you’re not focused on what you’re lacking or missing – you only have love.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
What I Want
Maybe it will be love at first sight.
Maybe it will be someone who I've known all this time and never noticed romantically.
Maybe it will be someone who I hate when I meet.
Maybe it will be a coworker
Maybe it will be someone I meet at one of the psych conferences.
Maybe it will be a handsome stranger pumping gas.
Maybe it will be in ten years.
Maybe it will be tomorrow.
Maybe it will be never.
Maybe I already had my chance with him and blew it.
Maybe I could play the maybe-game all day and never meet him because I'm so busy with my head in the clouds.
Maybe I should not worry about it because it will happen when it's meant to.
no.
sadly
I don't think he has come.
I want a man who sees me the way my friends see me. I want a man who doesn't look at me as a sexy woman. Who doesn't see me as a successful busines woman. Who doesn't pigeonhole me. I want a man who sees the radiant woman that my friends see and love. I want a man who SEES that and who loves it. Who wants more of it.
I don't want a man who just sees that my friends love me. What I have to give. I want a man who loves me the way my friends love me, but who loves me MORE.
that's what I want.
i know that I can't get that with instant gratification.
I know that is the kind of bond that is built in time.
But it's so frustrating to want something that is so transendant and deep and to refuse less. I am happy in my single state of being, but I do feel a bit of a missing piece. I am tiring of fighting the good fight alone, I am ready to accept the idea that I do not have to be an army of one. But I want the fighter with me to be the one who will fight to the end. I want him to be my faithful friend as well as my lover under the stars. I want him to stir my heart and stimulate my mind. I want my tears to find a safe place on his chest and in his heart, and I want my joy to radiate from his toes to his fingers when he is in my presense.
and sometimes
I wonder
is that too much to ask for?
but I resoundingly shout NO! NO IT'S NOT!
I am not asking for an adonis. He does not have to be without flaw. There is not a requirement for his profession. there is no preconceived notion of what he will do, or look like, or say. But our love will speak volumes and sing poetry. Our arguments and fights will resolve with our devotion. That is all I want. I want a fighter, not a quitter.
Maybe it will be someone who I've known all this time and never noticed romantically.
Maybe it will be someone who I hate when I meet.
Maybe it will be a coworker
Maybe it will be someone I meet at one of the psych conferences.
Maybe it will be a handsome stranger pumping gas.
Maybe it will be in ten years.
Maybe it will be tomorrow.
Maybe it will be never.
Maybe I already had my chance with him and blew it.
Maybe I could play the maybe-game all day and never meet him because I'm so busy with my head in the clouds.
Maybe I should not worry about it because it will happen when it's meant to.
no.
sadly
I don't think he has come.
I want a man who sees me the way my friends see me. I want a man who doesn't look at me as a sexy woman. Who doesn't see me as a successful busines woman. Who doesn't pigeonhole me. I want a man who sees the radiant woman that my friends see and love. I want a man who SEES that and who loves it. Who wants more of it.
I don't want a man who just sees that my friends love me. What I have to give. I want a man who loves me the way my friends love me, but who loves me MORE.
that's what I want.
i know that I can't get that with instant gratification.
I know that is the kind of bond that is built in time.
But it's so frustrating to want something that is so transendant and deep and to refuse less. I am happy in my single state of being, but I do feel a bit of a missing piece. I am tiring of fighting the good fight alone, I am ready to accept the idea that I do not have to be an army of one. But I want the fighter with me to be the one who will fight to the end. I want him to be my faithful friend as well as my lover under the stars. I want him to stir my heart and stimulate my mind. I want my tears to find a safe place on his chest and in his heart, and I want my joy to radiate from his toes to his fingers when he is in my presense.
and sometimes
I wonder
is that too much to ask for?
but I resoundingly shout NO! NO IT'S NOT!
I am not asking for an adonis. He does not have to be without flaw. There is not a requirement for his profession. there is no preconceived notion of what he will do, or look like, or say. But our love will speak volumes and sing poetry. Our arguments and fights will resolve with our devotion. That is all I want. I want a fighter, not a quitter.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
doncha make my brown eyes blue
Gosh, right when I'm feeling so happy. I'm done with school. I kicked butt in boot camp today. I have friends who love and value me.
I have said that I would love to get my doctorate in Sac or at Stanislaus State because I would love to be closer to the Darlings. Well, I was looking at my little sister's page and I found a weird person that said, "Mr & Mrs. Darling". I clicked on it and it led me to another page. On October 18th my brother Mike got married. The whole family was there and no one told me or invited me. It's been almost three months.
I just feel like crying. No wait. I am crying.
It's times like this when I feel everything crumble around me and I remember how my mom left when I was pregnant. It just makes all my happiness seem so flacid. Why do things seem to come so easy to some people? Why does God see it fit that I have to be all alone? Why is it that if I want or long for family I have to turn friends into family? But my friends have their own families...
Why does it seem that when I'm content, it has to end with tears?
I just hear my mom, "Sometimes life's not fair, Jessie."
I feel like I need a hug right now and the only person to hug is fast asleep because it's a school night.
I didn't choose to be a nomad. I stayed in Redding. I was married. I was engaged. I was a good wife and an even better fiancé. I learned from my mistakes. I have tried to make family. I have loved with my whole heart and soul.
I don't understand.
I don't have a bitter heart.
I help people.
Why don't I sow what I reap?
I don't understand it.
Why am I all alone in my apartment?
Why do I work so hard in school? I work so hard to be a good mom. I’m a loyal friend. I'm a good employee. I do adopt a family. I change careers so I can help people. I pay my bills on time. I don’t live beyond my means.
I build people up instead of tear them down.
You don't leave from interactions with me feeling inferior, but feeling loved and valued and respected.
I try to be self-aware and fix the problems.
I am a peacemaker.
So why?
Why do I sit here and cry when I hear that my brother has been married for three months and no one told me? Why did no one tell me?
Why does my mother adamantly tell me for months that she has plane tickets and the day off work and then cancel the week she’s supposed to come admitting it was a lie? No wait, she didn’t admit it, she had a cavity and needed a filling. That’s why.
You know, my mom moved to Texas when I was 19, unwed and pregnant. She just packed up one day, took my brother and left. She had purposely never let us meet or know our fathers or have relationships with her side of the family. So when she left, she left me all alone. This devoutly “Christian” woman told me to have an abortion and come with her or stay here and figure it out.
I’ve been doing it on my own. I tried being married to his dad, but he was crazy. Literally.
I was engaged and I loved him so much, with all my heart and soul. But he was a philanderer.
I’m not running away from relationships. I’m TRYING. I’m doing my best. I’m making a mountain out of a molehill in a good way!
I even had the best compliment from a stranger that I was truly and genuinely happy. He could see the fruit of the spirit amongst the crowd.
So I don’t understand.
Lesa has car accidents gravitate to her.
I have family leaving or forgetting me.
I guess God knew this was my lot and that’s why I was pregnant at age 19? He gave me family?
I have said that I would love to get my doctorate in Sac or at Stanislaus State because I would love to be closer to the Darlings. Well, I was looking at my little sister's page and I found a weird person that said, "Mr & Mrs. Darling". I clicked on it and it led me to another page. On October 18th my brother Mike got married. The whole family was there and no one told me or invited me. It's been almost three months.
I just feel like crying. No wait. I am crying.
It's times like this when I feel everything crumble around me and I remember how my mom left when I was pregnant. It just makes all my happiness seem so flacid. Why do things seem to come so easy to some people? Why does God see it fit that I have to be all alone? Why is it that if I want or long for family I have to turn friends into family? But my friends have their own families...
Why does it seem that when I'm content, it has to end with tears?
I just hear my mom, "Sometimes life's not fair, Jessie."
I feel like I need a hug right now and the only person to hug is fast asleep because it's a school night.
I didn't choose to be a nomad. I stayed in Redding. I was married. I was engaged. I was a good wife and an even better fiancé. I learned from my mistakes. I have tried to make family. I have loved with my whole heart and soul.
I don't understand.
I don't have a bitter heart.
I help people.
Why don't I sow what I reap?
I don't understand it.
Why am I all alone in my apartment?
Why do I work so hard in school? I work so hard to be a good mom. I’m a loyal friend. I'm a good employee. I do adopt a family. I change careers so I can help people. I pay my bills on time. I don’t live beyond my means.
I build people up instead of tear them down.
You don't leave from interactions with me feeling inferior, but feeling loved and valued and respected.
I try to be self-aware and fix the problems.
I am a peacemaker.
So why?
Why do I sit here and cry when I hear that my brother has been married for three months and no one told me? Why did no one tell me?
Why does my mother adamantly tell me for months that she has plane tickets and the day off work and then cancel the week she’s supposed to come admitting it was a lie? No wait, she didn’t admit it, she had a cavity and needed a filling. That’s why.
You know, my mom moved to Texas when I was 19, unwed and pregnant. She just packed up one day, took my brother and left. She had purposely never let us meet or know our fathers or have relationships with her side of the family. So when she left, she left me all alone. This devoutly “Christian” woman told me to have an abortion and come with her or stay here and figure it out.
I’ve been doing it on my own. I tried being married to his dad, but he was crazy. Literally.
I was engaged and I loved him so much, with all my heart and soul. But he was a philanderer.
I’m not running away from relationships. I’m TRYING. I’m doing my best. I’m making a mountain out of a molehill in a good way!
I even had the best compliment from a stranger that I was truly and genuinely happy. He could see the fruit of the spirit amongst the crowd.
So I don’t understand.
Lesa has car accidents gravitate to her.
I have family leaving or forgetting me.
I guess God knew this was my lot and that’s why I was pregnant at age 19? He gave me family?
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Christmas 2008
Interestingly I put on a random podcast sermon from one of the churches I like to listen to and the sermon was titled, Pursuing Divine Health. Tonight is Christmas Eve and tomorrow I’ll be going to Catholic Mass even though I’m a Protestant Christian. As you also know, I firmly believe that things happen for a reason. I just picked this podcast at random and this is how it started (I’m going to take a few moments to transcribe the first few minutes).
"Many of you know that video the Catholics put out, isn’t that amazing? Wow! John Arnett sent it to me this week… And there was this healing that the Lord’s doing and thankfully in the U.S. Protestants and Catholics get along better than in other parts of the world. And Mexico is one of the places where there has not been a cross-pollenization for whatever, for reasons I don’t want to get into right now. But one of our dear friends and part of our network, Angel, pastors a great church in LaPaz where our ministry is… anyway, Angel sent me a note this morning because he’s been working on reconciliation with the Catholics in the area. He’s been just initiating this, he’s just becoming a Kingdom minded person. And sometime ago he went to the Father and asked if it would be possible if his church, which is not a wealthy church at all, could provide shoes for all the kids in the orphanage. And they did, they brought Christmas gifts. … and what has happened as a result of that is off the charts.
Angel's note said: Last night they called a prayer meeting. About 3000 people gathered in the gov’t plaza in LaPaz. Most of them Catholics, but many of them other branches of Christianity. We all joined to pray for Mexico in a first time ever event. We had never had Catholic and Christians praying together in our country. But at the end of the event I raised my voice to ask forgiveness to the Catholics because we had built walls instead of building bridges. A great ovation was heard when I hugged the Bishop. It was even more powerful seeing other Catholics and believers hugging each other and expressing forgiveness.
I know this is a new day. New things are about to happen here. Revival is here. We are making history."
12-25-08
During Mass I went into a meditative prayer three times. During prayer I was thanking God for everything He has given me and asking Him to lay his hand on me. I was asking Him to listen to this choir through my ears. I was asking Him not to let me slip away or worry about things that are insignificant to his plan for my life.
While in prayer I found myself with tears streaming down my cheeks. I was not feeling sorrowful. I was not in grief, mourning, or sadness. I was in gratitude! Gratitude indeed!
I was thankful of all the ways that the Lord has blessed me. When my family left me, I was given a son, friends and love. When I was in my dire period, burned out from school, work and motherhood and I was pushing away my friends- A new position at work opened up which paid me my same wage with less stress; I was brought to the friends who are genuine and truly my sisters in Christ. I was brought to new friends who have shown me such love and encouragement. I was brought to people who genuinely believe in me and in God’s plan for my life. I was so grateful for all that and more, and because of that gratitude I cried thanks. I cried tears of happiness and blessings.
I don't know why I cried, I just couldn't stop. I was oblivious to the people around me, I didn't hear the singing or the priest, I just heard my prayer and the words of my heart. The cry of my heart. The song of my heart!
After Mass I went with Evelyna and her family to Christmas lunch at the Holiday Inn. They had to go pick up E’s mom and father-in-law, so I arrived at the restaurant about fifteen minutes ahead of them. I sat there with my Bible in my hand and once again, bowed my head in prayer. I thanked God again for all my blessings, I don't think I can thank him enough, He is SO GOOD. Then I asked him to read my heart and see what I longed for. I asked that he would go in and read me and guide me to find the scripture that would make sense to me and for my life. I didn't know what I wanted or what I needed to hear, but I trusted that He did. I asked for something that I could look to when I needed to feel security and to feel reassured that He knows my heart.
I ended my prayer and ran my fingers along the edges of my Bible. This is the Precious Moments Bible my mom got me for my 12th birthday. It’s beat up, written on, scribbled in (little brothers!) but it’s my special Bible and I doubt if I’ll ever buy an adult one because this Bible is so special to me. I flipped through the pages a couple times and opened the book and looked down.
I opened the Bible to Psalm 63.
O God, You are my God;
Early will I seek You;
My soul thirsts for You;
My flesh longs for You
In a dry and thirsty land
Where there is no water.
So I have looked for You
in the sanctuary,
To see Your power and
Your glory.
Because Your lovingkindness is
better than life,
My lips shall praise You.
Thus I will bless You while I
live;
I will lift up my hands in Your
name.
My soul shall be satisfied as with
marrow and fatness,
And my mouth shall praise You
with joyful lips.
When I remember You on my
bed,
I meditate on You in the night
watches.
Because You have been my help,
Therefore in the shadow of Your
wings I will rejoice.
My soul follows close behind
You;
Your right hand upholds me.
This reminds me of a part of the blog I wrote on Nov 8th:
This woman sings of His love for her with every step she takes because it is His hand which has held her up when she has felt like crumpling into the carpet. It is His shoulder she has cried upon when school and work have found her weary to the bone. It is the heartbeat in His chest that she has listened to when she has laid alone in her bed, lonely and longing. It is His words of comfort that she has read when she just needed someone to understand, looked around, and found no one to empathize. It is in Him that she finds the courage to press forward when the enemy glamorizes the ease of giving up and giving in. It is through His eyes she sees herself in the mirror when the enemy reminds her of the weight she's gained during these years in school, work, and motherhood. It is His value of her worth that she fights for, not the enemy's lies which place her worth in her waistline or in the opinions of men.
"Many of you know that video the Catholics put out, isn’t that amazing? Wow! John Arnett sent it to me this week… And there was this healing that the Lord’s doing and thankfully in the U.S. Protestants and Catholics get along better than in other parts of the world. And Mexico is one of the places where there has not been a cross-pollenization for whatever, for reasons I don’t want to get into right now. But one of our dear friends and part of our network, Angel, pastors a great church in LaPaz where our ministry is… anyway, Angel sent me a note this morning because he’s been working on reconciliation with the Catholics in the area. He’s been just initiating this, he’s just becoming a Kingdom minded person. And sometime ago he went to the Father and asked if it would be possible if his church, which is not a wealthy church at all, could provide shoes for all the kids in the orphanage. And they did, they brought Christmas gifts. … and what has happened as a result of that is off the charts.
Angel's note said: Last night they called a prayer meeting. About 3000 people gathered in the gov’t plaza in LaPaz. Most of them Catholics, but many of them other branches of Christianity. We all joined to pray for Mexico in a first time ever event. We had never had Catholic and Christians praying together in our country. But at the end of the event I raised my voice to ask forgiveness to the Catholics because we had built walls instead of building bridges. A great ovation was heard when I hugged the Bishop. It was even more powerful seeing other Catholics and believers hugging each other and expressing forgiveness.
I know this is a new day. New things are about to happen here. Revival is here. We are making history."
12-25-08
During Mass I went into a meditative prayer three times. During prayer I was thanking God for everything He has given me and asking Him to lay his hand on me. I was asking Him to listen to this choir through my ears. I was asking Him not to let me slip away or worry about things that are insignificant to his plan for my life.
While in prayer I found myself with tears streaming down my cheeks. I was not feeling sorrowful. I was not in grief, mourning, or sadness. I was in gratitude! Gratitude indeed!
I was thankful of all the ways that the Lord has blessed me. When my family left me, I was given a son, friends and love. When I was in my dire period, burned out from school, work and motherhood and I was pushing away my friends- A new position at work opened up which paid me my same wage with less stress; I was brought to the friends who are genuine and truly my sisters in Christ. I was brought to new friends who have shown me such love and encouragement. I was brought to people who genuinely believe in me and in God’s plan for my life. I was so grateful for all that and more, and because of that gratitude I cried thanks. I cried tears of happiness and blessings.
I don't know why I cried, I just couldn't stop. I was oblivious to the people around me, I didn't hear the singing or the priest, I just heard my prayer and the words of my heart. The cry of my heart. The song of my heart!
After Mass I went with Evelyna and her family to Christmas lunch at the Holiday Inn. They had to go pick up E’s mom and father-in-law, so I arrived at the restaurant about fifteen minutes ahead of them. I sat there with my Bible in my hand and once again, bowed my head in prayer. I thanked God again for all my blessings, I don't think I can thank him enough, He is SO GOOD. Then I asked him to read my heart and see what I longed for. I asked that he would go in and read me and guide me to find the scripture that would make sense to me and for my life. I didn't know what I wanted or what I needed to hear, but I trusted that He did. I asked for something that I could look to when I needed to feel security and to feel reassured that He knows my heart.
I ended my prayer and ran my fingers along the edges of my Bible. This is the Precious Moments Bible my mom got me for my 12th birthday. It’s beat up, written on, scribbled in (little brothers!) but it’s my special Bible and I doubt if I’ll ever buy an adult one because this Bible is so special to me. I flipped through the pages a couple times and opened the book and looked down.
I opened the Bible to Psalm 63.
O God, You are my God;
Early will I seek You;
My soul thirsts for You;
My flesh longs for You
In a dry and thirsty land
Where there is no water.
So I have looked for You
in the sanctuary,
To see Your power and
Your glory.
Because Your lovingkindness is
better than life,
My lips shall praise You.
Thus I will bless You while I
live;
I will lift up my hands in Your
name.
My soul shall be satisfied as with
marrow and fatness,
And my mouth shall praise You
with joyful lips.
When I remember You on my
bed,
I meditate on You in the night
watches.
Because You have been my help,
Therefore in the shadow of Your
wings I will rejoice.
My soul follows close behind
You;
Your right hand upholds me.
This reminds me of a part of the blog I wrote on Nov 8th:
This woman sings of His love for her with every step she takes because it is His hand which has held her up when she has felt like crumpling into the carpet. It is His shoulder she has cried upon when school and work have found her weary to the bone. It is the heartbeat in His chest that she has listened to when she has laid alone in her bed, lonely and longing. It is His words of comfort that she has read when she just needed someone to understand, looked around, and found no one to empathize. It is in Him that she finds the courage to press forward when the enemy glamorizes the ease of giving up and giving in. It is through His eyes she sees herself in the mirror when the enemy reminds her of the weight she's gained during these years in school, work, and motherhood. It is His value of her worth that she fights for, not the enemy's lies which place her worth in her waistline or in the opinions of men.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Christmas at The Office
Who knew that I would get my best therapeutic techniques from watching The Office? Yep, I learned alllll about alcoholism and interventions. I thought I would share the wisdom...
---
if I can skin a mule deer in less than ten minutes I oughta be able to cut my way out of this.
this is equal parts scotch, absinth, rum, gin vermouth, triple sec and two packs of Splenda, I call it a One of Everything.
an intervention is a surprise party for people who have addictions. You get in their face and you scream at them and you make them feel really badly about themselves and then they stop.
when I was in college I used to get wicked hammered. my nickname was Puke. I would chug a fifth of soko sneak into a frat party, polish off a few people’s empties, some brewskies, some jello shots, do some body shots off myself, pass out. Wake up the next morning, boot, rally, more soko, head to class, probably would have gotten expelled if I would have let it affect my grades but I aced all my courses, they called me Ace. It was totally awesome. Got straight B’s. They called me Buzz.
Intervention questions:
have you ever used alcohol to alter your mood or deliberately change your state of mind?
do you sometimes have a drink to celebrate a special occasion or mark a holiday?
have you ever, under the influence of alcohol, questioned the teachings of the mormon church?
Five fingered intervention:
Awareness
Education
Control
Acceptance
Punching
As it turns out, you can’t check someone into rehab against their will, they have to do it voluntarily, they need to hit rock bottom. So I think I know what I need to do at this point. I need to find ways to push Meredith to the bottom, um, I think I can do it, I did it with Jan.
There are several ways to kill a zombie, but the most satisfying one is to stab it in the brain with a wooden stick.
---
if I can skin a mule deer in less than ten minutes I oughta be able to cut my way out of this.
this is equal parts scotch, absinth, rum, gin vermouth, triple sec and two packs of Splenda, I call it a One of Everything.
an intervention is a surprise party for people who have addictions. You get in their face and you scream at them and you make them feel really badly about themselves and then they stop.
when I was in college I used to get wicked hammered. my nickname was Puke. I would chug a fifth of soko sneak into a frat party, polish off a few people’s empties, some brewskies, some jello shots, do some body shots off myself, pass out. Wake up the next morning, boot, rally, more soko, head to class, probably would have gotten expelled if I would have let it affect my grades but I aced all my courses, they called me Ace. It was totally awesome. Got straight B’s. They called me Buzz.
Intervention questions:
have you ever used alcohol to alter your mood or deliberately change your state of mind?
do you sometimes have a drink to celebrate a special occasion or mark a holiday?
have you ever, under the influence of alcohol, questioned the teachings of the mormon church?
Five fingered intervention:
Awareness
Education
Control
Acceptance
Punching
As it turns out, you can’t check someone into rehab against their will, they have to do it voluntarily, they need to hit rock bottom. So I think I know what I need to do at this point. I need to find ways to push Meredith to the bottom, um, I think I can do it, I did it with Jan.
There are several ways to kill a zombie, but the most satisfying one is to stab it in the brain with a wooden stick.
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