Revealing The Story

How Our Stories Fit Into THE Story

Page 3 of 12

and… REPEAT

February 1, 2017 /

In November we practice GRATITUDE.

December – JOY.

January – NEW rythyms.

By February we’re distracted and BUSY.

Then, *poof* another year flashes by.

Imagine if we turned these Nov/Dec/Jan practices into a cycle that begins it’s second rotation every February.

Some might argue that February is for love.  But I say, what is love without gratitude?

I wish I was naturally thankful; a person from whom gratitude springs forth like a spunky cheerleader.  I sure admire friends who seem to offer it naturally AND authentically.  Man, they can change the world!!

For me, gratitude requires intentionality and tons of practice.  I have to literally force myself to STOP and formulate a ‘thank you’.  Otherwise the day flies by with barely more than a passing thought about the good, good gifts in my midst.

Perhaps that’s why I’m voting we expand the month of thanks-giving to other parts of the year, because, selfishly, I need an entire year to truly get the hang of it.

Plus, authentic gratitude leads to joy. Which then opens our eyes to clearer judgement for new rhythms.  And, new rhythms allow us the bandwidth to be present.

Dear ones, we have the potential to replace our *poof* years with the gift of presence!!!

Imagine being the generations who lead the younger ones to engage each other with eyes wide open.

I’ve recently been disappointed by some ‘no’s’ but, as Janel Thomas modeled in last week’s post (No and Yes) I’m forcing my heart to remember, and say thank you for, a few of God’s ‘yes’s’.

Father, thank you for understanding my disappointments and gently reminding me of a few victories.  Thank you for teaching me about trust.

 

Comment with your own ‘thank you’ statement.  Let’s practice gratitude together.

-Laura

No and Yes

January 24, 2017 /

Yesterday God said no to me.

It was something I really wanted. Something I thought He wanted for me. Something that would be so good for me. So good for my family.

But God said no.

So today, I am pouting. Like my eight year old when I tell her no, she can’t have another snack 5 minutes before dinner. I am pouting. Bummed out. Pity-party city. I am sad.

And my sadness takes me back to another time when God said no. For several years the answer was no. That’s a long time for an American! Our culture doesn’t like to wait for anything. Patience is not our virtue.

I really wanted a baby ‒another baby to make Sela a big sister. I was sure it was what was best for her. I couldn’t understand why God didn’t agree. But month after month, I got the same answer.

No.

It made my heart heavy, and I struggled not to question God’s character. I wasn’t so sure how much God loved me. Every month I would hear his exponentially-bigger voice bellow down to me:

No.

Nope.

Ummmm no.

With each passing month, His voice in my head became harsher. More calloused and unkind. God’s voice in my head was cruel.

What does God’s voice in your head sound like? Is it mean? Punishing? Indifferent to your pain? If it is, then that is not God’s voice.

Listen closer.

For the Lord is compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love… (Psalm 103:8)

During those dark days of infertility, I learned to listen more intently to the heart of God, as it is revealed in His Word. I reflected back on what I already knew of His character and the many ways I had already seen Him work in lives around me. When God says no to His kids, He is not harsh, cruel or indifferent. Just the opposite: God’s no is kind. It is grace-filled and rich in love. Friends, listen for that sweet voice!

If you’re a mom, you know how this works. You’ve likely had one of those heart-wrenching moments when you have to deprive your child of something he really wants. Reeeaaalllly wants. Because you are bigger and wiser, you can see that this something is not what is best for your little one. But oh how your baby wants that something! In their limited understanding, this something would make life so much better. And they waaaaant it. And now you are an ogre. And you never loved them. You are officially the meanest mom. Ever.

Yes, sometimes love says no.

Sometimes Love says no to His kids, too.

So back to my present pouting. I am trying to find a better word for my crappy attitude. Whiney. Grumpy. In a funk…

Downcast. That’s what the Bible calls it.

Downcast: “low in spirit : dejected” (according to MerriamWebster). Low in spirit ‒that sounds much nicer than grumpy. I can own that. Sometimes the circumstances of life bring us low in spirit. God’s Word is actually full of examples of people who were downcast.

From Psalm 42

My soul is downcast within me; therefore I will remember you from the land of the Jordan, the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.

Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls; all your waves and breakers have swept over me.

By day the Lord directs his love, at night his song is with me— a prayer to the God of my life.

Why, my soul, are you downcast?

Why so disturbed within me?

Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.

And this brings me to the yes. (remember the title?)

See, if I can take my focus off of the no, then just maybe I can lift my head and remember how many times the Lord has said yes to me. And I can allow this to restore my hope and refresh my praise.

When I was lost in my sin, desperate and without hope, God said yes. He lifted me from the pit, and set me on a rock. When we were vulnerable and alone, like sheep without a shepherd ‒like people without an identity‒ God said yes. He said yes to the shame, the rejection. He said yes to the cross, the grave. I asked Him to take my brokenness and give me wholeness, and He said yes. I needed a savior, a protector and a friend, and He said yes.

I asked Him to love me all my days and never let me go, and He said yes.

Sometimes, God says no.

But, when we needed it most, He said yes.

God said yes.

 

-Janel

 

 

 

 

 

 

Janel Thomas is a dear friend to those that know her. She is a wife and a mom to three girls – ages 8, 10 and 14. She attended Westmont College where she received her degree in sociology and worked for 8 years in full-time ministry. At present, in between school drop-offs and pick-ups, she works as a church communications coordinator, leads a school care ministry, and is a full-time encourager to all those around her.

Do the Hustle

January 9, 2017 /

I think I was born with an irregular heartbeat. Doctors didn’t diagnose me with that, but I seem to have this rapidly moving clock ticking inside me that seems to tick quicker and louder for me than for others.

Here’s the thing. I like being PRO-DUC-TIVE.

What I can accomplish in one hour of un-interrupted time is astounding…and I take pride in listing off all the ways I was “productive” when my husband asks about my day across the dinner table.

But the problem I keep running in to is this: I struggle with ever slowing down the hustle.

There’s always more.

The kids were off school for 3 weeks and my professor husband and I were off too. ( I know… a luxury). And truthfully, I probably actually “rested” like 4 out of 21  days. I ALMOST finished ONE short book, stayed in my pajama/workout clothes until lunch a couple days, and put off laundry for at least three. And then for some reason like a little white plastic kitchen timer, this last week my clock DINGED and I was off again to the races.

“Do the hustle….da,da,da, da,”- I can hear the song, can’t you?

But for me, that hustle melody sounds a lot less peppy and chicken-danceish, and much more melancholy and minor.

It sounds like overcommitting myself, and underestimating how much TIME something is gonna take, and being 15 minutes late (AGAIN).

It sounds like a rush of wind, and slamming cabinets, and objects dropping on the floor.

It sounds like four mostly-done projects and forgetting an important ingredient in that recipe because I’m multi-tasking.

It sounds like me running around like a chicken with my head cut off…. Always a counter to wipe, a piece of clothing to fold, an “urgent” text or email to send, and a “I only-half-listened to you because my mind is a hundred-other- places” response.

It sounds like me speed walking ahead of instead of along-side people.

I see it and I don’t like it, but with all the responsibilities of momhood, and jobhood, and wifehood, and friendhood, and ministryhood I don’t totally know how to stop the hustle inside of me.

Faster, faster, more, more.

Disappointment at the end of the day about what I didn’t accomplish instead of treasuring sacred moments that actually did happen.

I sat down tonight (for the first time in umm….10 hours) and opened a real- life book to try to downshift my heart. I turned  to this two-page chapter that completely floored me. “Learning to play” and that author Shauna Niequist saw right into my heart…

“It’s that for all sorts of reasons

I default to HUSTLE mode all too often

And so one of the tiny little things I’m learning to do is to play-

essentially to purposely WASTE time.

Strategically avoid strategy, for five minutes at a time.

Intentionally not be intentional about every second.

Have no purpose-on purpose.”

This may sound ridiculous to you who actually know how to sit on the couch for longer than 30 minutes without feeling guilty. Those who are running through the house with your kids playing hide-n-seek. Those who have trouble getting out of their pajamas on vacations or waiting one more day to shower.

I’m married to one of you.

And though you bother me (especially when you see my frantic pace and comment, “busy…busy…busy”). I hear you, and it’s true.

 Now, don’t get me wrong there is something to be said for a basket of clean, folded clothes, and a house put in order, and tasks completed responsibly. But there’s also something to be said for being fully present and learning to rest.

There’s that overused Bible story of Mary and Martha;  I feel like I gotta stand up for Martha who is the only one DOING anything around that house – preparing for these people. Luke says. “She was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made…” Yep. Distracted by stuff to be done.  Umm…can you relate?

Martha speaks up… “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?” Oh..I can camp out on that martyr plea too. “Join me in my hustle, would ya? There are things to be done here! ” But Jesus answers her (and us) gently…”You are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is BETTER and it will not be taken away from her” (Luke. 10:39-41).

Sister Mary chose to sit at Jesus’ feet to listen, and look eyeball- to- eyeball, while Martha clanked and buzzed around the kitchen. Mary: fully present. Soul rest. Simplicity. Savoring, slowing, playing. “Making the most of every opportunity” realizing our days are fleeting. I know I’ve gotta care for our home, and be responsible, but I also want to learn the art of SLOWING down the HUSTLE.

Morbid thought:  no one is gonna talk about my productivity at my funeral. They will talk about my character and how I loved.

It is very much a perspective thing. So today, fellow hustlers… let’s breathe.  Picture Mary. Sit for a bit and show up for our lives with our people, so we don’t miss the BETTER while we’re in the hustle.

–Alyssa

Cleaning Up the Mess

January 4, 2017 /

It’s a new year and this year as I packed up my Christmas decorations, I entered into purging mode. My house is still in somewhat of a disarray as I have been going through every room and pulling out the stuff we just don’t use anymore; the excess and clutter. The one room that is the worst is my art studio. Ya’ll, it is so bad. It’s the room that ‘collects’ things, you know what I’m talking about? Like everything. If something doesn’t have a place…art studio it is. Plus, I never ended up actually unpacking that room when we moved in a year and a half ago.

I know, classy huh? The thing is, I’m a creative, and well…I’m not really great at organization. Or putting things back. And although I work very hard at keeping my house clean downstairs…my upstairs is another story. Since my studio is a room where no one but me ever goes into, you can only imagine how motivated I am to organize it. So, I’ve been working hard to clean, purge, and get that room orderly. It’s going to be so lovely, I know it. But in this phase, it’s just hard work.

 

What prompted all of this, was that my family has been cleaning and clearing out my grandmother’s estate. We lost her in October and it has taken months to go through everything. It’s quite a process, since my sweet grandma was a collector of many things! MANY things.  And, I know I inherited my somewhat ‘messy’ creative ways from her. So cleaning the house has been a huge job, a difficult job, and a frustrating job.
Cleaning up a mess always is.
Cleaning up someone else’s mess is even more so.
Even when you love that person.

All this cleaning has made me think about how our hearts can be “messy”. They can become cluttered with things like discontentment, undiscipline, pride, or fear. God has promised to clean our messy hearts for us, since we just can’t do it ourselves.

If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just

and will forgive us our sins

and purify us from all unrighteousness.

1 John 1:9 ESV {emphasis mine}

I realized something about how I often view this cleansing from him. I assume he feels like I do about cleaning up someone else’s big mess. I assume he looks at my messy cluttered heart, and sighs. That he is annoyed at the fact that he has to clean it up, again. And so I catch myself trying to clean it up on my own. Like maybe if I take care of some of the clutter it’ll make the job not as frustrating?

He gently showed me I couldn’t be farther from the truth.

I feel frustration and annoyance at cleaning someone else’s mess because I am human.

But God’s not human.

We were made in his image, he is not a reflection of ours.

I sometimes make the mistake of ascribing human characteristics to him.  But he does not reflect our humanness.

He is so much more. He is patient and merciful. He is everlasting in his love. He sanctifies us because that’s just what his holy goodness does. He loves us, sees what our hearts will look like, and is not disturbed by our mess.

Jesus showed us this side of God’s character when he had no problem touching lepers, or dining with society’s outcasts, or being born in a dirty stable rather than a palace. He came and walked with the messy, and he showed no contempt for it. Instead he cleansed it.

Today, if you find your heart has become cluttered and maybe a bit messy like mine, let’s invite him in to clean and purge. Trust that he is not annoyed, that he loves the invitation and has big plans to make it lovely again.

-Kallie

 

Time-out

December 15, 2016 /

The countdown is on.

10 days till Christmas morning.

 

December’s pace is SO difficult to SLOW DOWN because – you know- all the festivities and fa-la-la’s.

No one ever told me what December meant for a mama- as if our to-do lists are not long enough. (I already struggle with OVERCOMMITTMENT in the normal year- for the LOVE!)

This month we add, gold medal- Olympicized expectations of ourselves that only Superwoman could really achieve.

  • Have your house decorated to the nines and immaculately CLEAN so that at any moment you can welcome in a stranger, be featured in a home tour,or at least highlighted on an Instagram newsreel.
  • Be at every child’s performance, class party, and sports event and provide home -baked goods and cute little pinteresty hand-crafted goody bags for each participant and teacher/coach.
  • Bake Alton Brown award winning organic, gluten, dairy and sugar-free cookies with your kids, (but only eat veggies and kale yourself so you don’t have too many pounds to record on your new year’s resolution…)
  • DIY all your Christmas gifts for family & friends and wow others with your hand knit king-sized blankets for your tribe Christmas morning
  • Follow through with traditions from past years so the kids have amazing memories and have less baggage to talk to their counselors about in future years.
  • Say “YES” to every invitation for parties, gift exchanges, Santa sightings, and plays so that your family is FULLY cultured in all things ARTSY- like a family full of Renaissance people.
  • Fit in a service opportunity to give back so you don’t feel too guilty about all the THINGS that have gone on your credit card this month in the name of AMAZON.
  • Create a packing list and prep for traveling abroad, or gleefully welcome out of town relatives into your peaceful little casita.
  • Finally, Post pictures of cuddle time on the couch with blankets so that others think you’re taking it easy with your people and soakin’ in the peace of the season.

These are crazy high expectations we put on ourselves.

And I’m bummed at myself for year after year, falling prey to the lion of lies.

And so, like a 49ers referee I’m blowing my whistle and throwing a big “T” (on myself & you) for a TIME OUT.

And In my heart I  hear YOU say, “Breathe. ”

“What’s important? What do you really value? What can you say “no” to?

Johnny Diaz sings it on K-LOVE radio, but every time it comes on I turn it up because it’s Jesus’ words to ME!

BREATHE….just breathe.

Come and rest at my feet.

And be…just be…

Chaos calls ….but all you really need.

Is to just breathe.

All you really need is….

to take it in.

Fill your lungs

 It’s the PEACE of God that overcomes.

Just Breathe.

Let your weary spirit rest

Lay down what’s good and find your best

Just breathe.

 

Today I want to invite us to BREATHE. close our eyes, be silent, remember our Prince of PEACE who came in a quiet way. That simple nativity scene in the midst of the lights and the loud jingles and the sugar highs and the lists of WANT’s.

We have life.

We have each other.

We have  a king who offers us peace when we surrender to Him.

For just a moment today….

Let’s breathe.

-Alyssa

less than perfect gifts

December 7, 2016 /

Kids have an uncanny knack for expressing on the outside what adults are thinking on the inside.  Take, for example, the long lines that plague us every December; kids will express the misery that adults try their hardest to suppress.

Carry this concept into gift-giving.

plate-holiday-love-holidays

Until adults teach them how to hide it, kids will communicate their dislike for those less-than-perfect gifts. [Is this it?!] Even when children don’t say it, you can read the disappointment on their faces.

I’m guilty of this.  Only mine is worse. While a child might express disappointment over not receiving a coveted toy, my disappointment runs deeper and wider.  And mine is directed towards the ultimate gift-giver: God.

I’ve caught myself more than once looking bold-faced at a gift and thinking ‘is this it?!’ Sure, I’ve been careful not to show it on the outside, but the disappointment might as well be painted across my face and heart.

This is embarrassing to admit.  I wish I was the kind of person from whom joy and gratitude flow easily.  But I’m just not; my joy and gratitude typically only flow from intentional practice.

Therefore, even after admitting my roots of discontentment I’ve struggled to replace them with perspective and gratitude.

pexels-photo1

Each attempt to choose joy seems to fall short.

This weekend we sang my favorite Christmas carol – O Holy Night.  I thought I knew every word… until these ones pierced my heart:

He knows our need

To our weakness, is no stranger

Man.

I’ve been asking the wrong question.  It’s time to practice some new ones…

“What do you want me to learn?”

“What are the needs I haven’t acknowledged?”

“Which weaknesses are holding me back?”

It’s time to remember the hands of the gift-giver.  His scars demonstrate his unending love; their works, a breathtaking mystery.  Growth.  Sustenance.  Restoration.  Intimacy.  Depth.

It’s time to press in to his tender refinement.  Father, I believe, help me in my unbelief.

Laura

Party in the puddle

November 16, 2016 /

It has been an INSANE few weeks.

You know those “when it rains..it pours” sort of times?  Feels like that.  Dealing with frustrating circumstances of sickness, husband traveling abroad, a broken down vehicle left in L.A., and now my entire tribe of people sick AT THE SAME time with croup or pneumonia. (Yes, I said Pneumonia…For real?! ). Last night my husband and I looked at each other at the end of a long day and said…”Wow. this is pure craziness.”

Anyhow….it was one of those “mama meltdowns” that occurs when frustrations have been building inside of you for awhile. You been there? You try to just stuff ALL THE FEELINGS in efforts to survive and then when everyone least expects it..you start to boil..and like a fourth grade science fair volcano you begin to explode. 

Not proud if it, but that was me. And so..before I hurt too many people, I did what any mom in “I’m- gonna- go- crazy- mode” does. I put on my shoes, jumped in my  borrowed car and drove to Target. (P.s. What IS it about that place for moms?  Whenever you see a lady pushing a cart all by herself, with bloodshot eyes, slowly perusing the aisles in a general fog-like state.. just wink at her and smile cause you  know you’ve been there too).

I regress.

From the street I saw the happy red “you’ve hit the bullseye”  Target sign and turned in.  And like a glowing treasure I saw an open parking space two slots in from the store’s doorway.

“Score!”

But just as I put on my blinker to turn in to my spot my eyes fell upon this…

bird-in-a-puddle

Right there in MY parking spot…a little bird. Maybe the size of a  sparrow having a great old time in a puddle.  It hadn’t rained in days- and I wondered if that puddle had come from the A/C runoff from a larger car. There was even a little oil glistening off the water. But that little sparrow did.not.care. He just fluttered in that bath, flipped and turned, splashing water all around havin’ a little par-tay. I opened my window to see if I could hear disco music in the background.

And I sat there in the parking lot,  unable to park my car there  because I just couldn’t bring myself to  break up his party.  My thoughts were interrupted by beeping from the car behind me, so I continued on down the row to find a parking space further away.

Of course by the time I walked by that puddle on my way into the store he was gone.

Walking through the aisles of Target I couldn’t get that picture out of my mind.  And I wondered why God had me stop and really take in that silly moment.  And then I realized the significance.

We can either choose to focus on all that’s going wrong and what we DON’T HAVE (the oily puddles of life), OR we can choose to see what we DO have and be grateful.

Gratitude is focusing on what you DO have more than on what you don’t

That little bird had high need for a bath that day and oh- he could’ve surveyed the dry land and  complained about all the options that were just not his ideal. Instead he saw what was before him,  jumped in with  his WHOLE little self and partied in the puddle.

And…though I feel like I’ve EARNED THE RIGHT TO WHINE this month, ( haven’t we all) God is teaching me that in ALL circumstances there is at least a small reason to give thanks and make the most of each day we’ve been given. We are alive, we have our people, gather them close and soak it in.

AS I type this one of my sick sons just spilled a cup of apple juice all over the carpet and the pile of clean clothes on the floor. My first inclination was to scream at him in anger. And then I remembered that two seconds ago I was writing an inspiring note about partying in the puddle and so I smiled at the irony.

It’s not easy.  And there are certainly days to cry and grieve and mourn. There’s purpose there, too.

But today (by the minute) I’m challenged to ask God for a perspective shift. For humor, for lightness, and for the supernatural ability to not take everything so serious and just party a little in my puddle.

Join me.

 

Risk 2.0

November 2, 2016 /

“Learning to trust takes risking — following God in the face of our fear.”

– Christine Caine, Unashamed

If you came face to face with fear, what would you see?

  • A mirror
  • Success
  • Failure
  • Crowds
  • Trust
  • The Unknown
  • Disappointment
  • Loneliness
  • Rejection
  • Shame,

As a recent post-grad (and in general, a human) I deal with fear. Fear has been my suitcase since before I can remember, and as I’ve gotten older, it’s become heavier.  Fear is something we all deal with.

This summer, after graduating college, was one of the hardest, most excruciating few months I have ever lived. I couldn’t even begin to explain the pain, heartache, shame, confusion, disappointment, and especially fear that I lived in…in the midst of wondering what was next.  But I can sit here and write to you without tears pouring from my eyes and tell you God is good and God has been faithful. It’s taken me a long time to get to a place I’m in right now, and I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the people God has placed throughout my life especially at this specific time .

A few weeks ago I was talking with a dear friend of mine, I had been wanting to purchase A Giving Key but couldn’t think of a word, so I asked her what she thought I should get. One of the things I really love about this friend is that she never actually responds with an answer, but another question.

She just said, “well, what do you need to embrace during this season?”

This season is chaotic, but I didn’t want to choose “peace”, “rest”, “dream”, “fear” or any other typical words, I wanted to get creative this time around. When I looked back through the pages of this season, I realized I was afraid of being afraid. I feared risking anything that could damage what I had going, any thing that could possibly bring me back to the depths of shame. It was during that time of processing, that I discovered the word I needed to be embracing.

image2

RISK.

If you knew me a few years ago, you would know that although I liked to be in control, a bit of a perfectionist, and sometimes a bit of a freak, I also loved the thrill of risk. I love to adventure, travel, create, and sometimes do really stupid things for the heck of a good story or photo. But then this thing called senior year happened. I was working almost full time, going to school full-time, leading a ministry, trying to pay rent, and trying to keep relationships alive. It was exhausting and I was exhausted. I packed that thrill of risk into a box and threw it in the closet to avoid damaging anything I had going. Friends, it’s time for me to start un-boxing risk again, and maybe you as well.

For me the first step in my new life of risk was accepting a job offer in the Bay Area. I am terrified to be leading a middle school ministry, to be looked up to as a pastor would be and in charge of so many small humans. And I will tell you in all honesty, I balled my eyes out the night I got the job offer because of fear and lies the enemy was filling my mind with, because he knows that fear can hold me from doing what God has ultimately offered me.

But I am also stoked, I am excited to be back in a place that has meant so much to me in my life, and a place I truly feel called to be in. This job means moving to a city I have never lived in, working with people I have never worked with, and basically starting over.

One day at a time I am learning to face fear head on. Each day I take one more risk towards trusting God and living a reckless faith for Him.

What are you fearing today? What is holding you back from risking your life to follow Jesus faithfully and radically?

I would love to hear about what words you need to embrace this season of your life, feel free to comment or shoot me an email, let’s chat.

From one human to the next,

Michelle

image3

Michelle is a recent graduate from William Jessup University where she studied Psychology and Bible & Theology. She is currently the Junior High Director at a church in the Bay Area. She is passionate about people, stories, coffee, Dr.Pepper, and Jesus. To hear more about her adventures with Jesus check out tobefullyalive.wordpress.com.

empty chair

October 26, 2016 /

Most homes will have an empty chair this holiday season – a seat that should have been filled by a loved one who, through death or life’s painful complications, is no longer around.

pexels-photo-25449

We see you.

You are not alone.

We will each courageously engage the holidays – listen to carols, attend events.  Smile.  Laugh.

But, in the still, cold quiet of winter nights the memories will haunt you.  The ‘what if’s’ will tempt you.  Your mistakes, their mistakes, will taunt you with regret.

You are not alone.

Even in that.

Can we make a pact?

Let us agree that our smiles can reflect the beauty of this season while our eyes understand its complications.  No judgement.  Honesty does not make you a scrooge.  We don’t have to pretend to be happy all the time.  Rather, your willingness to engage with the hard parts will make the happy parts that much sweeter.

Let us hold hope for each other.  Lost years CAN be redeemed.

Let us grant permission to engage with the holidays differently.  To find the aspects and events that fit.  No guilt.  It’s okay to decline an invitation or cancel something last-minute.  We understand.  Grief doesn’t follow a calendar.

Let us practice acknowledgement of a God who gets us.  Who understands the complications we face.  Who joins us in celebrating life’s sweet parts and grieving its painful parts.

After all, Jesus expressed ALL the emotions.  He experienced relationship loss, challenging family dynamics, betrayal, separation, death of loved ones.  He knew what it was like to weep, to rage, to rejoice.

He sees you.

We’re in this together.

 

Laura

I’d love to hear about your empty chair.  Comment here or reach me through  www.LauraFrederickMFT.com

Where is God in my grief?

October 19, 2016 /

Grief…..it’s uncomfortable to talk about. We hide it behind closed doors. It refuses to follow a predictable pattern. It recedes for a time and then comes crashing back on a whim all its own.

autumn-194834_640_147689794299211

The heart betrays the mind. Logic slips beyond our grasp. It’s messy, difficult to compartmentalize or even categorize.

The process of grief forces a single mindedness, yet permeates every facet of our lives.

For something so entirely intangible, it might be the heaviest thing we ever carry. We try to compare it to something……anything, and yet it can’t be quantified.

Grief is the ultimate paradox. It goes something like this: There is nothing physically wrong with me; I do not have a life-threatening disease…..yet I feel like my insides are ripping in two.

The heartache becomes the physical ache.

And because grief is no discriminator of persons, eventually no one escapes it- Dreams unmet, job loss, divorce, children unborn, family members gone too soon, severed relationships.

And if you are still reading this, then you are either curious why I’m talking about this…… or you know even more about this subject than I do.

If I may humbly speak to the latter, I have not known what most would consider the greatest grief- losing a spouse or a child, but we are by no means strangers.

And this kind of sorrow begs the question……

“Where is God in my grief?”

And it’s not a new question. Many a person’s faith has hung in the balance as a result of this very type of question.

Several years ago a friend of mine lost her best friend to cancer. My husband asked her this question……

“How’s your heart?”

And through the tears streaming down her face, she said, “No one has ever asked me that question before.”

“How’s your heart?”

What I don’t know about this subject would fill more space than my eyes can see.

What I do know is this……God knows your heart. He knows my heart. He knows my broken places. He knows the wounds I carry.

“You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book.”

Grief may feel like a scarlet letter, or a secret badge we wear hidden on our person. It feels like more than we can carry…… but we are not called to carry it alone.

“Pour out your heart before him; God is a refuge for us.”

There’s an old adage that says, “Time heals all wounds.” I would submit to you that God created time and space. His sweet mercy trumps any supposed linear path I may be on.

He created me with this fragile heart and need for others. He created me to have joy. And he created me to feel pain. He created me with a deep need for Him that exceeds anything else that I could try to attain. And on the days that I need him the most….. are the days I will count him the closest.

“I am near to the broken hearted and I will save the crushed in spirit.”

When I sit at the feet of Jesus and let his breath become mine, when I cast my cares upon him, this is what I hear him say…….

My child, your burdens are not too heavy for me. There’s nothing I can’t heal and redeem. I love you with an everlasting love!!

My favorite psalmist David says it like this…..

“You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; you have loosed my sackcloth and clothed me with gladness; that my glory may sing your praise and not be silent.”

May today’s grief be tomorrow’s dancing!

dancer-1489686_640_147689825689111

– Suzi

« Older posts Newer posts »

Thanks for Visiting

We hope that our stories have been uplifting and inspiring for you as you navigate this journey called life.

© 2024 Revealing The Story

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑