Breaking Silence

Ever been in the middle of a conversation with someone - a really important conversation - and you just breathe deeply and tighten your lips, not knowing what to say, and too cautious to open your mouth and say the wrong thing? 

That scenario would be this blog. I've had so many thoughts lately. And I've been painstakingly analyzing which of them should find voice here and which should not. 

But, when I'm honest, I know I can't live my life in silence just because I'm so afraid of saying the wrong thing. This conversation that I carry on with you, talking of the day-to-day or the deep and weighty, it's an important conversation. And I have gone silent on you - afraid to say what's really going on in my heart. For fear maybe you wouldn't understand. Or maybe it would be "too much". But, in my naiveté I have at times poked in the chest of the generation before me and challenged my parents, my pastors, my mentors to be "real". Only to turn inward and hide my deepest thoughts from even myself. 

So, in this journey of courageous "reality", I choose to keep letting  you in. A Greek phrase I learned a few years ago has affected me deeply. (And if this is wrong, spare me the correction and just let me enjoy the concept, ok?) A professor told us that, in ancient times, when a potter would create a new vessel, he would form it and fire it and then hold it up to the light. If the piece was found to have hairline cracks (as most were), the potter would take wax and smooth it over the cracks to sure them up. And to make them less visible. 

Pieces of pottery left with their flaws evident, uncovered, were described as "sine-cera", or "without wax".  From which we gained our word, "sincere". 

I want to be sincere. Our flaws shouldn't be reasons for us to judge one another. But reasons for us to love each other. I've discovered recently that one of the most profound acts of worship I can offer the Lord is to acknowledge my weaknesses, and then to serve Him with all my might in spite of them - and watch Him make up for them, and then some with His 'more-than-enough' grace.

One of my favorite pictures of sincerity is my Grandmother. 

 She has lived her life being "real". Taking chances. Being unafraid to make mistakes (though perhaps a little slow in admitting them - a family trait :).  She lives outloud. Quiet when necessary. But she has not let her voice be silenced. Never her praise muffled. 

I want to live that way. Loud. Proud of what God is doing, even if what He's doing is humbling me...

it's just funny.

Why is laughter, of all the things in life, one that I may be most grateful for? Proverbs tells us that:  "A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." And really, no matter what's going on in life - if you can laugh, you can live. That's one of the biggest blessings for me in our church and in my job. We laugh. A LOT! Most the time "with" but sometimes purely "at" one another (all in love).

 

My best friend bought me a keepsake box once. Inscribed in gold letter on the deep brown wood is Ecclesiastes, "there is a time for everything. a time to sow, a time to harvest, a time to mourn, a time to dance..." and embossed over this verse is the word "LAUGH" in big, bold, gold, lettering. (She knows me so well). In all of these "times", whatever they bring and wherever God moves you, just being able to laugh makes so many things possible. 

Like the Proverb says, it's like a medicine. It makes your soul healthy, strong. 

So, today, I thought about the times in the past couple of weeks or so that have made me laugh...from my gut. Some - I WISH I could post online! But, for the sake of my own reputation (and others, who undoubtedly have more to lose), these will suffice:

So, one day I was on the phone with a wonderful friend. As I talked, I paced my grandmother's porch. I failed to look down and spot this mean cactus. See that brown stem? Sharper than it looks? Well, I managed to become aware of this cactus because it stabbed me without remorse in a very...delicate...area. Angry cactus. VERY angry me.

 

I risk my life to bring you this laugh. This is Christmas morning at our house. My uncle Kenny surveys his new Nike jacket with a grin, and my grandmother looks on. I like to call this "dreaming of a bald Christmas". (my grandmother's hair is still trying to recover from several rounds of chemo and a stem cell transplant).

These two "mature" ladies are drinking margaritas and a beer. It's 11 am. (5 o'clock somewhere right?)

Remember this candy? Why did they give us this as children? We wore them around our wrists or necks, collecting dirt and sweat (and other people's spit if you were a sharer) and then we ate them. Michelle still eats them. And that makes me laugh.

Scroll through your mind for a minute. Just think of a couple moments that made you laugh - really laugh. And then breathe a contented sigh. Isn't today better already? 

never moving to chicago.

It's very windy in Florida today. The aggravating kind of windy where anything not nailed down is blowing about and forget about your hair maintaining it's composure. And, after several long hours in the office, I took a "lunch break" and headed to Starbucks at the local mall to get some necessary items. Turned into a parking spot and pushed my door open just in time for the wind to catch it and propel it into the next car with enough force to knock their mirror clean off. It was cute. 

Knowing the wind was blowing with far too much force to leave any info on their windshield, I walked into the mall to find security - on the other side of the mall. So, click click click I go in my little heels to the other end and some guy radios security who drives to the scene of the crime - while I click, click, click my way back to the other end of the mall (thank God I'm in Polk County and what most of you are seeing in your mind as "mall" is a gross exaggeration). 

I walk outside to find security and the owner of the freshly unmirrored car waiting on me, with arms crossed. "Bad news," my inner voice tells me. "OK. Just smile, apologize, beg for mercy and explain it's God's fault - after all, He created wind. And He loves taking the fall for my mistakes. I can't believe this. If I'm going to hit something with my car, I wanna make it good. You know, at least have a story or something. This lady looks ticked! She might hit me. I wish my brother was here. Nope. Just me. Sighhhh....Here we go, Jesus give me favor..."

Haydee (the victim, er...owner of victimized vehicle) was very sweet and understanding. I explained I'd be happy to replace the mirror and make the necessary repairs (what I really meant was my good friend John would do all of that work and I'd buy a mirror). We exchanged info. Done. Back into the mall for the now much more needed coffee. 

I had to laugh as I got back into my car with my vanilla latte (extra fat, extra sugar, extra espresso, extra, extra, extra please). I thought about how some days of life are just windy - you have no control over how things will happen. They just do. And you have to just roll with it and thank God that your car door didn't bust out someone's window, or assault an elderly person, or hit a BMW. And thank Him for good friends who help you pick up the pieces. 

It's a good day :).  

sunday mornings.

I love this about Sunday mornings - I always awake with an anticipation. It's like Christmas morning. I can't wait to see what Jesus will do in our church family. And I come to the office early (typically). There is a mist hanging in the morning air outside, all the world seems asleep and I am praying that God will gently awaken their hearts to come and seek His face.

This morning, I was greeted by two of our awesome students with a giant vat of coffee (probably because they find me more agreeable with caffeine in my system). They walked in ready to serve, eager to do whatever may help these amazing people hear more from Jesus this morning. They fold bulletins, clean bathrooms, help with sermon materials, give hugs and organize paperwork. 

And early this morning, as I read about the organization of the Tabernacle in the Old Testament. And how the work within it was divided up among different clans (families). This family carries this load, that family is responsible for this part. That's just what happens here at Garden Grove. People walk in, each family ready to their part, anticipating how that part will mingle with all the other parts and produce genuine and effective ministry. Some to pray, some to warmly embrace those visiting, some to help us streamline the details of the service. All to bring glory to God.

I'm so thankful to be part of a body who is just as desirous to minister as the pastors. And every Sunday morning, God does something in our hearts. Not because we deserve it. But because we want Him to. Because we ask Him and then we wait. Because we're open to whatever He might choose to do. 

to perfection.

Yesterday morning in getting ready for work, I turned on the flat iron for my hair. Walked around the corner, and plugged in the iron which sat atop my ironing board. While they heated, I neatly smoothed the duvet on my bed and did a quick check of the house for any out-of-place items. I ironed my shirt. And then, with 400 degrees of heat clamping down on my hair, I straightened every curly strand of it. 

I had to grin...

How many days look like this for you? For me, I begin, in the very first hours of the day, my quest for absolute perfection:  the perfect amount of time with Jesus, the perfect workout, the perfect outfit and the perfectly clean house as I walk out the door (all this must be followed by achieving perfect success at work coupled with perfect ebb and flow of relationships in my life). Crazy? Absolutely! Uncalled-for? Undeniably. Overwhelming? Indescribably. 

Last night, as we sat in small groups in Harbour (our young adults service), I asked our students the most significant thing the cross has meant in their lives. I expected several things, but I most certainly did not expect what I heard. The brilliant and lovely ladies who surrounded me responded:  freedom from perfectionism, performance and fear of failure. More than anything else. 

Grace. 

These girls (most tearfully) expressed this fear that they fight off daily. This haunting question which causes them to constantly look to the cross for an answer. "Am I enough?" 

I'm so thankful for the cross which has overwhelmed my life with an answer, a very simple one. "I love you." I will never be enough. But Christ has provided far more than what was needed. And He has given me everything He has. That's the reason "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me...".

I've battled perfectionism most of my life. The root of it? Pride. Self-sufficiency. Fear. And when I was young, probably about 10 or 11, someone spouted the scripture "be perfect as I am perfect," and the enemy twisted it in my adolescent mind to compel me even deeper into the quest for flawlessness. 

As women, we know what accompanies that task:  condemnation, self-degradation, self-consciousness, even depression. The work of the cross in my life has brought freedom from the entanglement with these. But they stand beside my path and entice me at times. Beckon me. Challenge me (and my competitive streak loves a good challenge). 

During one of these particular battles, a few months ago, I took time to breathe. I got in my car and drove an hour to a remote park. I turned off the paved road and rolled my windows down. I walked trails under the cover of strong trees. I noted nature and how it is far from perfection yet brilliantly displays beauty. I walked barefoot in the grass and felt the earth under my feet (instead of a three and a half inch high heel).

 And I felt God's embrace. His reassuring smile, warming my cheeks in the sun. His voice spoke gently to me to step out of the race I was running and learn how to run to Him - again. To receive His grace and revel in  it. To just enjoy Him.

Today is your day. Your day to receive His grace and enjoy it! To let it replace the heaviness of performance or fear. To walk into abundance. Today. You're loved. 

my to-do list is attacking me...

So, the other day, I was talking with one of the incredible young ladies at our church, Kristen Schnoor, and she had me cracking up about the fact that I make analogies out of everything in life. As a 5th grade teacher, she sat in her classroom after school, eating Girl Scout cookies and trying to make an analogy. She sat and looked about her room. For quite a while. (Long enough to eat just a few cookies :) 

Stumped, she called to haze me because she couldn't think of anything. And I said, "you could have made an analogy about how Girl Scout cookies are sooooo good. And how they only come at certain times so you have to pace yourself or they'll be gone! And this is like God's blessings. He gives us incredible things but we must use them in a timely fashion and not waste them." 

Kristen sighed, "ughhhhh! see! I ATE MY ONLY ANALOGY!" 

-Just thought you'd appreciate that laugh- 

That's the precursor to this actual post. 

So, today, I've been trying to think about what's on my heart to say. And honestly, every time I try to get there I'm interrupted by some task sitting on my mind. Like there are literal papers flying around in my mind as I try to nail them down and ascertain what the next "must-do" is. It's an overwhelming feeling: to feel like I don't have access to my emotions, deepest thoughts or sometimes prayers. To feel like every effort to turn my eyes upon Jesus is met by some crucial demand before me. 

My real self must be somewhere underneath this: 

Camouflaged by to-do lists, calendar notifications, two phones ringing simultaneously, and events looming in the days ahead beckoning me to take more action than I have.

It's these moments when I long for the day to draw to a close. Not because it's a bad day. Not because I want it to be over. But because that moment, when I rest my head, is the sweetest moment of commune with Jesus for me. Psalm 4 says that when we lay on our beds, we should search our hearts and be silent. Don't you love that moment? Right before you fall asleep:  For the most part, the world can be silenced. You breathe deeply. And the things that demanded your attention all day are hushed. 

I want that in the middle of today. I want the hush, the quiet, the peace. I want to walk in it. I'm reminded often of the line in a worship song that says, "I'm finding myself in the midst of You, beyond the music, beyond the noise." 

That line has always made me think of being deep in water. Like when being a kid in a swimming pool, submersed under 8 feet of water. Seemingly, without a care in the world, just bouncing about in the water. Floating to the top, then diving back down. It makes me think of being in over my head...the world outside muffled and ambiguous. Voices quieted, the hot sun cooled. 

But inside the water, senses are heightened. If a coin dropped on the floor of the pool, I could hear it with a clear precision. I want that with Jesus today - a muffled world outside, His voice clear and resounding within. 

The Catch 22's of Life

Yesterday, Cirelda stopped by our office here. She and her husband have been homeless for five months. Work for them slowed dramatically and, month by month, their life declined until they found themselves unable to pay rent and evicted. Nowhere to go but their car. So, for five months, they've searched for work and lived in their Jeep. 

Cirelda spoke clear English, though her second language. And was happy to show us her social security card - confirming her citizenship. She only asked for food. Not money. When we brought her a box of food (they had not eaten in two days because the mission is also low on food and funds), she politely mentioned that they could use some gas money as well. We gave her a little cash (we've generally got some tight policies on such things, but she was genuine and humble and we were compelled to do what we could. Not to mention she offered to mop our floors for any money at all and, when we put it in her hand, she emphatically told me she'd get it back to us as soon as she could). 

She told me about her latest job search. She had gone to Burger King where they told her she could get 40 hours a week. She was ecstatic. They said it would be basic food service and some cleaning at the end of the day. "I was excited. I found an apartment we could rent for $300 a month and I knew if I took this job, we would be able to have a home. At least somewhere to sleep." The manager hired her; gave her a starting date. And then, he walked away briefly to converse with another manager.

When he came back, Cirelda's bright moment dissipated, "I'm sorry. I wasn't aware but the position had been filled." She was very aware of what happened. See, Cirelda doesn't have the money for a dentist. And she is missing most of her teeth - all but one. She also knows that this look is consistent with those who do drugs, though she doesn't and never has. So, with no money for a dentist, and no job unless her teeth are fixed, Cirelda has no possibility of a job. Or a home. A warm place to sleep. A normal existence...

But God. 

Don't you love that phrase? The one where God does the "impossible" and leaves all human reasoning confounded and inept. Maybe tonight you will be able to go home and sleep in a warm - even fashionable - bed. Maybe you will be surrounded by people who love you. Maybe you will drive a car that generally succeeds in route from a to b. 

But there are the other parts of life. Those catch 22's. 

The ones you can't do a thing about but yet, something must be done. The wandering soul so close to your heart. The lost loved one you can't bring back. The financial situation in which your hands are tied. And when we have done all we can, we have worked like it depends on us and we have prayed like it depends on God, we sit back. Perhaps tearfully, perhaps peacefully, perhaps fighting off flushes of anxiety and worry. But we sit back and wait for the "but God" moment. 

It will come; it will. And when it does, enjoy your reasoning being confounded and your deepest fears being revealed as totally irrelevant. 

Pray for Cirelda tonight.