My daughter was watching a movie about the Craig’s list killer this weekend. I was struck by the comments made by the investigators that he was difficult to pinpoint because he was so normal. He did not fit the typical profile and had not yet been identified in the criminal database. By his appearance, his demeanor, and life circumstances, you would never suspect the evil that lurked in his heart. Watching, it is easy to take on the role of an observer and declare oneself immune from such choices. That is, unless you have already visited those places in yourself and know that no sin, big or small, is beyond the depravity that lies within your own heart.
No one who has gazed at that reality can cluck their tongues in smug disapproval at grievous human choice. It is not some self endowed religious will power that makes you different from an anguished girl contemplating ending the life of her unborn baby. Your superior genes do not keep you from indulging the anger that burns within through domestic violence. Neither does the fact that you engage in regular date nights keep extra-marital lusts at bay. “There but for the grace of God go I,” is not a proclamation of supremacy, but sober recognition that God’s infinite grace shaped life’s circumstances in such a way to keep some temptations just outside the easy grasp of my greedy clutch.
I’ve experienced enough of my own failures to know there is no sin too great that given the right set of circumstances, that it would not enter my contemplation. The spirit within acts as a rudder to steer me away from many circumstances, but my flesh ambushes the controls and takes me places so tantalizing that it is only God’s grace that prevents my diving recklessly into its siren-called depths. It is in this place that you realize just how much Christ’s payment for sin really was. Today thankfully embrace the redemption of the cross!
Monday, January 17, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Heartache
I'm a teacher-a fourth grade language arts teacher to be more precise. It is a place I never envisioned myself from that youthful, starry-eyed vantage of youth. Yet, here I am.
In an effort to help pull engaging stories from my students yesterday, I introduced them to the concept of emotional levels. The lighthearted laughter vibrated in the room as we tossed around numerous level one topics. Students nodded vigorously at every mentioned topic because those comprise their every day lives. As the lesson progressed; however, the mood in the room shifted and the students became somber and reflective, each reliving private sorrows. I looked into their eyes and was startled at their familiarity. This was a pain I knew all too well- a pain that still haunts me and one I'd just as soon forget ever made me who I am. It is the thing I wrestle with God the most about. Why THIS story? I still don't have the answers to that, and may never. I do trust my Father though, and as best as I am able, accept the reality of the memories that shaped and deepened me.
Those sweet little eyes fighting tears or hollowness searched mine for relief. The burden of knowing that I can't pluck them out of their circumstances and blow a puff of amnesia dust in their faces so they'll forget weighed heavy on my heart. I saw myself in them and remembered my own fears. I didn't have much to bring them, but what I had, I offered. From my own anguish, but with the wisdom of adult eyes, I helped them to see their worlds as they should be... as children who were placed in circumstances beyond their control or ability to understand. I explained they have choices within their circumstances.
Some of them will fling their child's heart far from themselves and watch it shrivel under the cruel rays of adult responsibilities and worries. However, I hope that at least one of them will understand that they are not to blame, nor are they responsible for fixing the adults around them who make evil or foolish choices. Maybe that one will be able to detach themselves from God's role in their parents lives and their own. It is the prayer that comes to my lips for them all, for myself even after all these years.
Sorrow is abundant. It surrounds us all, wearing a thousand different faces. May we all walk through those sorrows under His wings where we are safe and comforted.
In an effort to help pull engaging stories from my students yesterday, I introduced them to the concept of emotional levels. The lighthearted laughter vibrated in the room as we tossed around numerous level one topics. Students nodded vigorously at every mentioned topic because those comprise their every day lives. As the lesson progressed; however, the mood in the room shifted and the students became somber and reflective, each reliving private sorrows. I looked into their eyes and was startled at their familiarity. This was a pain I knew all too well- a pain that still haunts me and one I'd just as soon forget ever made me who I am. It is the thing I wrestle with God the most about. Why THIS story? I still don't have the answers to that, and may never. I do trust my Father though, and as best as I am able, accept the reality of the memories that shaped and deepened me.
Those sweet little eyes fighting tears or hollowness searched mine for relief. The burden of knowing that I can't pluck them out of their circumstances and blow a puff of amnesia dust in their faces so they'll forget weighed heavy on my heart. I saw myself in them and remembered my own fears. I didn't have much to bring them, but what I had, I offered. From my own anguish, but with the wisdom of adult eyes, I helped them to see their worlds as they should be... as children who were placed in circumstances beyond their control or ability to understand. I explained they have choices within their circumstances.
Some of them will fling their child's heart far from themselves and watch it shrivel under the cruel rays of adult responsibilities and worries. However, I hope that at least one of them will understand that they are not to blame, nor are they responsible for fixing the adults around them who make evil or foolish choices. Maybe that one will be able to detach themselves from God's role in their parents lives and their own. It is the prayer that comes to my lips for them all, for myself even after all these years.
Sorrow is abundant. It surrounds us all, wearing a thousand different faces. May we all walk through those sorrows under His wings where we are safe and comforted.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Early in the Morning
I am a morning person among a household of die hard night owls and one teetering on conversion. As such, most mornings I have the luxury of a couple of hours to myself before the hustle and bustle of the day begins in earnest. I love everything about the mornings- its stillness, the stretch of black skies slowly twisting into grey, and the feeling that for a few brief moments, I am my Father's only creation. Of course, I know I'm not, but it certainly feels that way when I have the world to myself and no one can interrupt our deep ponderings and gentle affirmations.
I grew up without a father, as far too many do. My own left this earth far too soon, and my series of step-fathers lacked paternal instinct. My Heavenly Father, though, is neither absent nor detached. Fresh every morning, He stands close by, His eyes brimming with love. He invites me to spend time with Him and simply be. Some call this meditation or devotion time. To me, it is far more intimate, more soul kissed.
I'm grateful for every morning, but God's invitation is not restricted to this time. He is available always. It is my hope and prayer that whether you are a morning person or a night owl, that you will enjoy the fellowship of His call to you.
I waited patiently for the LORD; and He inclined to me and heard my cry. He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay, and He set my feet upon a rock making my footsteps firm. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God; many will see and fear and will trust in the LORD. Psalm 40:1-3
I grew up without a father, as far too many do. My own left this earth far too soon, and my series of step-fathers lacked paternal instinct. My Heavenly Father, though, is neither absent nor detached. Fresh every morning, He stands close by, His eyes brimming with love. He invites me to spend time with Him and simply be. Some call this meditation or devotion time. To me, it is far more intimate, more soul kissed.
I'm grateful for every morning, but God's invitation is not restricted to this time. He is available always. It is my hope and prayer that whether you are a morning person or a night owl, that you will enjoy the fellowship of His call to you.
I waited patiently for the LORD; and He inclined to me and heard my cry. He brought me up out of the pit of destruction, out of the miry clay, and He set my feet upon a rock making my footsteps firm. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God; many will see and fear and will trust in the LORD. Psalm 40:1-3
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Doubts
Jesus warns against being a double minded man. One would think that stepping onto a new path would be the biggest source of fear. For me, there has always been the rush of the new, the unexplored. My pastor sometimes points this out to me as in the time he has known me, my sources of income have swung wildly from minature silhouette artist to my current occupation of a teacher with hopes of becoming a school administrator. Being a rut type person, he has never understood my inclination to give up a perfectly satisfactory job in pursuit of new dreams. I can't say I fully understand the drive myself.
It has taken great effort for me to remain in my current position for the four years I've been there. Some would say I cheated because after two years of teaching with my district, I began my administrative degree. It is the same technique I employed as a professional baker. Slightly new focus means I still have the challenge of the new without completely tossing the huge emotional and financial investment of getting to that point. At this stage of my life, I'm trying to be gentle with myself and accept the reality of my tendency to wander while recognizing there is also value in consistency.
That being said, as soon as I published my first post to this blog, the doubts poured out like an unexpected spring shower. What was I thinking? It is one thing to journal; it is a completely different thing to allow the world to view the experiment. Perhaps I had misjudged that gentle nudge to do this. After all, I am not a theological giant. Nor do I boast the persuasive ability to move the masses into choosing Christ. I am simply a girl with a story to tell. A story that breaks the heart while hopefully illuminating the cross. It is with that thought that my doubts faded. This is not an ego boosting venture. It is my feeble attempts to bear witness of the amazing grace I continue to partake of on a daily basis.
Perhaps once the story is told, I will once again chase after the nooks and crannies of life. Perhaps I will find the restlessness gone once the pent up emotion is loosed. From this vantage, it is impossible to tell. What I do know, is that we all share the battle between doubt and hope. It is my hope that you read, that you will find that the courage to step into that place of obedience is right there within your grasp. Reach out for it and ACCEPT His grace for the travels.
It has taken great effort for me to remain in my current position for the four years I've been there. Some would say I cheated because after two years of teaching with my district, I began my administrative degree. It is the same technique I employed as a professional baker. Slightly new focus means I still have the challenge of the new without completely tossing the huge emotional and financial investment of getting to that point. At this stage of my life, I'm trying to be gentle with myself and accept the reality of my tendency to wander while recognizing there is also value in consistency.
That being said, as soon as I published my first post to this blog, the doubts poured out like an unexpected spring shower. What was I thinking? It is one thing to journal; it is a completely different thing to allow the world to view the experiment. Perhaps I had misjudged that gentle nudge to do this. After all, I am not a theological giant. Nor do I boast the persuasive ability to move the masses into choosing Christ. I am simply a girl with a story to tell. A story that breaks the heart while hopefully illuminating the cross. It is with that thought that my doubts faded. This is not an ego boosting venture. It is my feeble attempts to bear witness of the amazing grace I continue to partake of on a daily basis.
Perhaps once the story is told, I will once again chase after the nooks and crannies of life. Perhaps I will find the restlessness gone once the pent up emotion is loosed. From this vantage, it is impossible to tell. What I do know, is that we all share the battle between doubt and hope. It is my hope that you read, that you will find that the courage to step into that place of obedience is right there within your grasp. Reach out for it and ACCEPT His grace for the travels.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
New
New Year's Day cloaks itself with promise. Plans to start over, to do better, to improve, to enjoy-swirl one on top of the other inside like crisp autumn leaves in a whispered wind. If you are an emotional mess like me, the list of necessary changes can be overwhelming. Not only do I gather those obvious resolutions like eating better, loving more, slowing down, exercising more, but I feel the need to take my flaws that have been pointed out to me by well meaning souls through the new year transformational process. For good measure, I throw in a list of SHOULDS, mostly highly regarded religious tokens and familial relational building. At the end of the process, the light, airy step into a new year becomes a pathway burdened by my relentless internal critic.
A few days ago, I was meditating on the idea of what it would be like to start the new year without any expectations for a new and improved me. The very thought seemed scandalous. How would it be possible to gaze fully at myself, my flaws, my failings and purposefully turn away without fixing even the tiniest problem? Wouldn't God chastise me for my lack of diligence? Wouldn't He frown in disapproval that I had not turned 1 talent into 5? Wouldn't He sigh deeply and wonder if this frail creature that He brought into life is ever going to get it? I was recently told by a friend that rather than my being loved in spite of my flaws, that some love me because of them. This statement shook my little world to its very core and I have slowly been exploring it in all its secret little corners. Yes, I'm human....all too human....but maybe that is how it is meant to be. I stumble and fall often, but God's mercy and grace pick me back up. There is room at the cross for all just like me, not new and improved versions, but plain old people whose faith is small, but whose God is gianormous!
So, for me, I have decided to accept for today God's promise that His burden is light. Iam laying down the bag full of expectations and requirements and I am just going to walk forward into what He has crafted for this new year. It is my hope that we'll skip and dance together through it.
A few days ago, I was meditating on the idea of what it would be like to start the new year without any expectations for a new and improved me. The very thought seemed scandalous. How would it be possible to gaze fully at myself, my flaws, my failings and purposefully turn away without fixing even the tiniest problem? Wouldn't God chastise me for my lack of diligence? Wouldn't He frown in disapproval that I had not turned 1 talent into 5? Wouldn't He sigh deeply and wonder if this frail creature that He brought into life is ever going to get it? I was recently told by a friend that rather than my being loved in spite of my flaws, that some love me because of them. This statement shook my little world to its very core and I have slowly been exploring it in all its secret little corners. Yes, I'm human....all too human....but maybe that is how it is meant to be. I stumble and fall often, but God's mercy and grace pick me back up. There is room at the cross for all just like me, not new and improved versions, but plain old people whose faith is small, but whose God is gianormous!
So, for me, I have decided to accept for today God's promise that His burden is light. Iam laying down the bag full of expectations and requirements and I am just going to walk forward into what He has crafted for this new year. It is my hope that we'll skip and dance together through it.
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