a dead man has no BREATH

"I've got to get away from this round and round and round. I've got to find a way from tumbling down and down and down. How long will my bed be made with tears? How long will You leave me here? Don't leave me here.

The grave is too late to sing Your praise. A dead man has no breath. So while there's beating in my chest, my heart will sing, heart will sing this craziness: la la la la la la la, la la la la la. la la la la la la la, You have set me free! la la la la la la la, la la la la la. la la la la la la la, You are all i need!"

Pardon my la las :) i'm totally that girl that hates songs with jibberish in them, but this one, oh man. it's just, if you've ever heard that song you know it's beautiful and overflowing with praise and joy and LIFE! and the la las are intregal! Listen to it right now if you haven't ever or in a while. It'll put your heart in the right attitude for this Thanksgiving holiday.

Speaking of which, i'm going to write about things i'm thankful for. I know it's cliche, and i really loathe being cliche. but come on! With all that God's given me, with all this beauty and goodness, all these reflections of God's character and face walking around me each day, I'll offer it back up as a thank you song to Him. And maybe today, if we all thank Him, He'll feel a little bit of gratitude from the humans He created to praise Him, the ones who so often turn their heads and beat their own chests when something good comes along.

First i want to thank my Jesus for revelation, for getting down the tunnel of these last five years of my life and all of a sudden being handed a flashlight. i look back now and can see what it's all been for. He didn't want my disobedience. He didn't want my stubbornness or defensiveness or self-seeking, but He turned and is turning my darkness to brilliance. He's been doing it all along, and now i can see little bits of how He's working. He's turning streetlamps on along the way, just enough so i can take my next step in confidence, and how stinkin beautiful is that?! A God who wants us to hold onto His hands for guidance. A God who stoops constantly in order to lift my chin, aligning our eyes.

I'm thankful for my singleness, in this moment though definitely not always. I'm thankful because He's saving me from misery, saving my husband from misery. He's trying to make it so that i know how to love right. So that when my earthly love comes along i can try my hand at loving him like Christ instead of someone who takes and takes and takes and doesn't know that that kind of love is a sad cutout version of what i'm capable of, what i'm created to live out. I'm thankful because instead of a man having to sharpen these horrificly poke-y edges of mine, God's doing it. His mercy is so all-encompassing that He's allowing it to be done in the quiet of my house and within the walls of my heart. He's letting it be done in the secret spaces between us rather than in screaming fights and ignoring hours in a marriage.

I'm thankful for my family, the fact that we are so tightly bound to each other when we could've (and really should've) been strangers separated by bitterness and lack of understanding and blame. My youngest brother got baptized this year and in that process really let us know that he KNOWS who God is. I never have to worry about my baby, cuddlebug of a brother being with me in Heaven. He'll be beside me, with that perfect pitch of a voice, singing "holy holy holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come" forever. He'll be older, but our hands will still fit together in the moments they aren't lifted to our Abba.

I'm thankful for my friends, the new and the old:

"During a time when i had nothing to give but venom and tears, when i monopolized conversations and entertained the same conspiracy theories over and over again, this small circle of people were the words and fragrance and presence of God in unmistakable ways.

I have never been so clingy and strange, so unmoored and lacking in appropriate smalltalk, and i am beyond thankful to my friends for sticking around in the worst of it.

Telling me the truth as they saw it, which was a lot more beautiful than the truth as i saw it then." -Shauna Niequist

I know my friends well enough to know they think good things of me. They think i'm all the things i think THEY are. But i know that in a true friendship, each person feels like they're surrounded by their betters, feels blessed to even be allowed to keep such company. And my friendships are no exception to that. I'm flooded with love and honesty and loyalty (to the Father first, which changes naturally into loyalty to each other) and well-written cards, emails, facebook posts. I don't have to question who i am, because they remind me. I see better who i am by looking at their hearts, and more often, i see the kind of worshipper i want to be. You know who you are, you're wrapped so tightly around me, like sinew around muscle, and i love you with everything i am.

the whole StepDad thing

So my step dad’s a jerk.  I mean, I know that in literature and fairy tales it’s usually the wicked step mother, but my step mother’s great.  We’re very different from each other and didn’t get a lot of time together while I was growing up, which kept us from being close until the past several years.  But she’s really cool.  Everyone loves her.  I do, too.  But that step dad of mine, jeez oh peas.  I don’t know one single person who’s more stubborn, has to be right, judgmental, prejudiced, or is more selfish.  He drinks to make Vietnam go away, and the alcohol only makes it worse.  You’d think he’d know that after 35+ years.  He doesn’t treat my mom like the self-sacrificing, bright, funny, smart woman she is, and I never remember him having said I love you.  I wouldn’t have believed him anyway, considering the whole “actions speak louder than words” thing.  His daughter is an interior designer, his son in construction (like him).  They’re regarded in his mind (and I gather this from his words over the years) as the perfect offspring:  successful in business, tall and slender, independent.  They’re both also twice divorced, unhappy, and don’t call or visit ever.  But those are the things that apparently DON’T matter.  So you can see why there’s a bit of a difference in the way he sees Jesse and me.  If that’s how he judges success, then we are massive failures, and I wouldn’t change that for anything.

 

Anyway, all that’s not meant as a rant.  It’s meant as background.

 

I used to say that I prayed for my step dad, David, all the time.  I used to pray for him, until I got old enough for the hurt and confusion to turn to bitterness and hatred.  Even now, I can’t believe I’m admitting actually hating another being.  But if you lust and then divert your eyes, you’ve still lusted.  If you kill and then immediately repent, you’ve still taken a life.  So if hate and anger and ill will rises up in me in an instant and then I remind myself “you can’t hate.  Look at the grace you’ve been given.  You can’t withhold it from anyone,” then still the sin’s been committed.  So yes, I’ve hated him on and off for a long time.

 

So once the bitterness set in, somewhere around junior high, but for sure by high school, I all but stopped praying for him.  When I DID pray for him, I prayed for his salvation.  I know this is what we’re instructed to do, but it was wrong the way I did it.  I didn’t pray for mercy for him.  I didn’t pray for forgiveness or grace.  I prayed for a radical conversion, out of self interest, not genuine interest or Christian anything.  Do you have any idea how much easier my life would’ve been had David been changed in an instant?  Had he only collapsed onto his knees, appalled by the man he’d become, ashamed of the way he’d denied the Christ, I could’ve and would’ve praised Jesus til the Tennessee cows came home! 

 

But does God hear prayers that are self-seeking, especially salvation prayers?  What a farce!  What a lie!  Gaw, I was being so many things I hate about David, by praying for him?  Crazy.

 

Anyway, God really started working on me (or better, I finally allowed Him to begin working on me) a few months back about actually forgiving my step father.  Everyone knows the verses about God not forgiving those who don’t forgive or loving because He first loved us.  I know those verses, but it’s so easy to quickly acknowledge and bury again the things that really hurt, the things that run deep and are so much associated with how we view ourselves.  I’m not sure what I’m going to do without the bitterness I carry toward David.  Who will that person be?  Surely better.  More like Jesus, I know.

 

But I finally decided that I can’t do this anymore.  He may never change.  He might not ever give his heart to the Lord, which I don’t want to be the result, but have to face as a possibility.  All that leaves is the way I handle this hurt, the hurt of 20 years now.  I can’t be someone who doesn’t forgive.  I can’t be that enemy of the Lord.  I’ve never been someone who wonders “what do I have to do to get into Heaven.”  I know enough of God to know that HE is our reward, and my goal, when I’m at my best, is to be closer to Him.  But what if I died, got all the way through this life thinking I’d loved Him the best I could, and He said “who are you?  all I see is this unforgiveness, and if you knew Me at all, you’d have let go of this.  Please leave, I don’t know you.”  That is just a tragedy.  That’s the worst, most heart breaking thing I can imagine, for the One I love, the One I prostrate myself before and yell at and beg and worship, for that One to not even recognize me.  I can’t do it.  I cannot allow that to be a possibility.  Even now, I ask the Lord again, help me forgive.  I need You.

 

::breathe::

 

So, a few months ago, I dug out a picture of my step father and mom.  I’ve always secretly wanted to crop those pictures and put only my mom’s smiling face up.  To be honest, the one I have up at work is still half covered, to keep him hidden and her showing.  But I dug this picture out and put it on the mirror on my bathroom door.  Since then, every time I notice this picture, I ask God to please help me forgive him.  I don’t have the slightest clue how to go about this.  I don’t FEEL forgiveness having come or even on the horizon.  When I start to think good thoughts, my memories betray me, and I’m back in the dark where I began. 

 

But God is always good.  I’m asking from a genuine heart.  I’m laying out my genuine need for Him to come and save me, because I can’t save myself.  Again and again, I can’t save my friggin self. 

 

“our whole being by its very nature is one vast need; incomplete, preparatory, empty yet cluttered.  Crying out for Him who can untie things that are now knotted together and tie up things that are still dangling loose.” –C.S.Lewis

 

C.S. Lewis also made a reference in the Screwtape Letters to Christians being like little children learning to walk and how God is pleased when we fall if only the will to walk is there.

 

I know God is doing something.  I’m writing this for everyone to see aren’t I?  I can feel Him changing my perspective without my understanding how. 

 

I’m finally praying for David’s salvation because I desire the pain to stop in his life.  For him.  Not for me.  I desire his salvation because I desire my Savior’s pain to stop, the longing and the ever-beckoning that’s so far gone unreciprocated. 

 

It’s beautiful, this pain in me.  I feel changing.  I feel softening.  I feel remorse and hope and spilling out.

 

Do the same.  If you’re reading this, do the same.  It hurts, but it frees, and I FEEL my heart coming closer to Jesus’.  It’s the only place to be for a believer.  It’s the only place you’re alive.  Be alive and let go.

Fed up with my Dumb Self

Ok, so it's a basic pillar of Christianity that we're all born into sin. We're NEVER perfect or innocent, unlike that ridiculous 90s song. (we are born innocent, and we are still inn-uh-ceh-ent...) But sometimes i can at least do one good thing without it being selfish in some way. Right? Maybe not. Maybe even thinking that is unBiblical. I mean, anything good i can do is only made possible by the blood of Jesus covering me and coursing through my spirit and mind.

Whatever.

The point is, lately i've been so annoyingly aware of my own self-seeking.

God wants us (me) to do good things but cares little of the outward manifestation if the inside of me is still teeming with selfish thoughts, concerns and motives.

For instance: i recently housesat for a coworker. her house smelled like dog, and they pooped on the carpet all the time. the food she said "help yourself to" was pretty much all rotten, the tiny bit that was there. yes, all this is pretty sucky. but did i bear the burden knowing i was doing this to help someone else? to ease THEIR load? to make THEIR life easier? Or i could've just done it knowing that it was something i'd committed to and therefor should follow through to completion. but i didn't even have THAT mentality. i loathed and begrudged every second of it. AND i had no problem telling people all this crappy stuff when they asked "how's dogsitting going?" God ended up convicting my heart, and i told the lady she didn't need to pay me. God basically said "How dare you take credit for this like your heart is so giving and neighborly", and He was so right.

So you'd think i'd learn aye? Nope.

Just yesterday my friend Emily called me at like 655 in the morning (on a Saturday mind you). Ya'll know how i am about sleep. Anyway, she says to me "i need you to come up to Boulder with me. my sister's really sick, and all she wants is to be home". So of course i agreed to go. it was really snowy, and she shouldn't go alone. in the 10 minutes it took for me to get ready i thought little snide thoughts and pouted to the cold air about my plight. It hit me during that time that Emily was using her ONLY day off (i had the whole weekend) to go get her sister, and that i should spend my energy trying to make her day better rather than mourning my own free/sleep time. even knowing this, i kept retelling the story to people throughout the day about getting woken up, not really wanting to go, but because i want to "be the kind of friend you want to have" i decided to go. i mean, i got over being woken up early. but still i retold the story like i was some kind of martyr because my day hadn't quite gone how i thought it would. looking back, i don't really mind having gone at all. her mom bought us starbucks for the drive and made home made potato soup for us that evening. she makes food for me all the time! and somehow going to pick up her really sick daughter from Boulder, which is only like 2.5 hours away, was this HUGE thing to me! what the heck Sam!

so anyway, today i'm just fed up with me. you know that line of that Caedmon's Call song that says "no one would love me if they knew all the things i hide"? yeah. well i know all the things i hide, and now you know part of them, too, and i just don't love this part of me. i HATE it! HATE IT.

i know we're all incomplete works. i know we're fallen and born into darkness even we are unaware of. but sheesh.

"All this is flashy rhetoric about loving you. I never had a selfless thought since i was born. I am mercenary and self-seeking through and through; i want God, you, all friends, merely to serve my turn. Peace, reassurance, pleasure are the goals i seek. I cannot crawl one inch outside my proper skin; i talk of love--a scholar's parrot may talk Greek-- but, self-imprisoned, always end where i begin." C.S.Lewis

Christianity 101

so i guess if you're a Christian you probably already believe that you can do nothing in your own strength, that you simply can't MAKE anything happen without the intervention from or the allowance issued by the sovereign Creator. I believe that, too. But it's just crazy how often my actions, thoughts, and relationships don't project that belief. It begs the question, if i don't live like i believe it, do i? but that's another topic.

i guess i've just been reminded today of how all-sufficient the Lord is, His grace particularly. He's more delighted and honored than willing when we acknowledge our inability to change ourselves, our lives, our pasts and decide to let the weight shift slinkily from our shoulders to His crucifix.

Here's what reminded me: (sorry, it ain't gonna be short, but that's pretty standard for me)

Most of you know, probably all of you, how my Florida years went. I know it's an overused quote, but truly "they were the best of times, they were the worst of times." on one hand, the one i hope to emphasize most often, i met the best friends i've ever had, the closest and the ones who get me best to this day. i learned was fellowship is. I learned how friends truly can be family, how "a true friend sticks closer than a brother". amidst the lessons on how to live spontaneously and argue passionately and who NOT to date, i learned that a person (people), not just a diety, can forgive you before you even ask. i learned what love is. Love doesn't sit by when you're trying with every play to wreck your life and hold its tongue. instead, it challenges you and scolds you and assures you that no matter the outcome, you have a soft, safe place to land. I also learned what love is not. Love will never ask you to lie. it is not confusion or deceit or illness or weight. i spent probably half of my time in florida worshipping, learning to love, being silly and adventurous, making bigtime memories the other half i spent sick to my stomach, quite literally sometimes, because of the distance my sin was putting between my Savior and myself. The One who's always loved me, who never left, who was my Father when i had none and my Fortress when i was bombarded, I decided to deny that One.

It's funny, though, my heart was guilt-ridden and engulfed in darkness at the time, but when the poor relationships were over and the apologies were made, life just went back to normal. Granted i've not been able to go back to college since having to drop out when i got kicked out of my parents' house, and that's a BIG deal to me. but heartwise and spiritually, the repercussions (sp?) have been pretty minimal. God just seemed to be waiting there the whole time, and when i came back, it was like He just sighed and said "well it's about time." I've struggled off and on for the past few years about NOT feeling guilt about that time in my life. maybe that's crazy. i mean, i know that guilt and shame are tools of the enemy, used to separate you from forgiveness and mercy Jesus freely offered, DIED to offer. But sometimes i guess i question the validity of my redemption if i never had that moment of lay-on-the-floor-and-cry-til-you-can't-anymore sadness about it. I hate the time i wasted. i HATE what i caused the people around me, what i put them through, the way i stretched their hearts so thin around MY existence. sometimes hate still rises in me toward the guy who lied to me repeated, who made a fool of me, to whom i gave everything i had and had known and loved, and who in the end didn't care a thing about that sacrifice. but i don't feel guilty or ashamed, and i'm not sure i ever did, at least not with the intensity you'd expect from an all-her-life Christian gal who broke every rule she'd ever tried to live by. one of my best friends couldn't even bring herself to tell me she slept with her ex boyfriend until i asked her point-blank over a year after they had broken up. even then, the second i asked her, her eyes welled up with tears, and she could barely complete a sentence, she was so wracked with weight and guilt and secrecy. I'll tell anyone who asks what happened with me, no tears, no hesitation.

INTERMISSION (now's a good time to grab a cup of water, a twizzler to tide you over until the end of this blog and your next meal, check your facebook, or even to chat with someone a little less pensive)

alright, so i got to listen to one of my good friend's testimonies recently. it wasn't so much the story of her Christian conversion as it was the story of the foggy period in her life, the one everyone has and looks back on like "that didn't even seem like me. what the heck was i thinking." none the less, it IS a testimony because God's grace has made it so.

first of all, let me just say that this friend of mine is the kind of person that annoys you because she has so many good attributes. you almost wish they'd just spread the wealth around. she loves the Lord passionately. she's intelligent and funny and musically talented and beautiful and smart, and somehow she still just radiates humility. actually, we've known OF each other for a while now, but i never asked her to hang out because i thought she wouldn't enjoy my company. i can be all those things i listed above... on occasion, but generally i have a hard time being all of them at once. I know it's dumb to rank yourself or class yourself, but i just thought she wouldn't like my company unless i decided to tone down the sarcasm and play up the Jesus. Turns out she's really stinkin hilarious and loves bodily function jokes! who'da thunk :)

so she and i are talking, and she tells me about her past. she's been through so much, things i've only imagined and then pushed from my mind because they're too horrible. she's walked in my shoes and then some. she's had humiliating moments displayed for all to see and tried to hide others. she's had to forgive and forgive and forgive and still muster the strength to BE forgiven. she's lived under an almost literal blanket of guilt and shame but now lives IN Freedom! and it's because HE'S done it for her! Our Savior, the bearer of our worries and grief (if we'll only let Him), has done it all! When i look at her, i see all those resplendent (Jess) characteristics of God, and she can take credit for none of them! she came from that background, she can lived in/with/welcoming sometimes that oppression, and she's transformed. no way did SHE do that! it's impossible!

i know this is kind of Christianity 101, but it's just so much easier to see in someone else rather than yourself: i don't have to DO anything. i can't make myself feel deeper guilt or remorse, just like i can't MAKE myself forgiven. I can't make myself good, and i can't force myself to feel something i'm not. I can't expose my own dirt. i can't bring further conviction upon myself, and i can't provide its solution. but i CAN petition Him. He longs for me to do so! He's waiting there. "well, it's about time."

Duh!

So i'll petition Him for mercy, in whatever form that takes. I'll ask for my heart to be like His own. I'll plead for nothing other than nearness to Him, for righteousness so that i can get closer. And whatever that looks like, i'll want it and digest it and allow it to be made new. i'll probably not understand it until it's completed, because i never do, but it'll be beautiful and crisp and holy.

He'll do it all, and i'll get no credit. and someday i'll tell my story, with whatever amount of difficulty, and people will see my dependency. they'll see my complete inability to change myself and how, despite that, i'm transformed. and He will be glorified!

Selah

Emotionally Flooded Night

So yesterday afternoon i get an email from Kim, my stepmom, that just says "call me. important." So naturally i freak out and call as soon as i can from Compassion's phone since i'm helping in the phone center for a little while. At first i felt kind of cool, like i was sticking it to the man (if the man were Compassion) by making a personal call in my little headset phone. But of course i couldn't just enjoy the rebellion because that email had me freaked out!

Kim tells me that my dad has gone in to the doctor for some heart tests. This past weekend he "slipped" on the stairs in the garage and pulled the shelving unit, full of paintcans, over on himself. Turns out he hadn't slipped at all. He'd blacked out and didn't remember a thing. He didn't tell anyone this because he didn't want to cause unneeded worry. When the dizzy spells and lightheadedness didn't go away the next couple days, he made an appointment, and only then did he decide to tell Kim, as he knew he couldn't keep a trip to the doctor a secret. They basically said that something's wrong, but they're not sure what yet. Dad said he's been able to hear the blood rushing in his neck and can feel his heart beating erratically. They immediately put him on beta blockers, which slow the electrical impulses to the heart so that a heart attack is nearly impossible. This is just a precaution until they can find out the real problem. He has an appointment today at 215 to do more tests.

Now i'm aware that this is not a crazy serious thing. Dad pointed out to me that out of all the ways God couldn't notified him that something was wrong, feeling like an idiot, covered in paint, is a very nice way to do it. But still, SO many thoughts started playing in my mind:

who would walk me down the aisle, what would i do around tax time, i missed out on so much growing up and now i finally have him here only to lose him, jesse's almost here just hold on, how would the boys know how to be men, and on and on. I was venting this to emily on the phone. she didn't know she was the first one i'd let this spill to, and because she TRIES to be rational thought she'd help me with that. she started, mid-sentence crying soul spill, "Sam, there's no use working yourself into a tizzy...." and i hung up on her. i HATE when people hang up on me. hate it. big time. it makes me mad like few other things can. BUT i knew i'd say something way worse if i didn't hang out then. so anyway, i called back a few minutes later, and all was fine. ah, good friend.

Anyway, i went to Em's house later last night after having pulled a truly selfish move. i went to my dad's work to see him and freak out. i knew it was wrong to cause him unnecessary concern and heartache, but for the first time ever i actually had to think about what it'd be like to wake up the next morning and NOT have my father. so i wanted to visit him while i can!

So anyway, Em was in a kind of weird mood. i'm kind of used to grumpy, whiny, happy, and goofy by now, but hurt, sad, and sulky's different. i didn't have any advice to offer that was pertinent to the situation, and i know she doesn't like to cry in front of people. A couple times i could tell she was holding the waterworks back; i just left so she could break down if she wanted to.

It was only like 8 o'clock, though, so i didn't want to go home. I felt rattled to the core, anxious and sad about whatever this is with my dad, lonely... because, well, i've been single for almost 3 flippin years now and feel each moment more ready to NOT be alone, and then lonely in the friend sense because even though i have some really wonderful, close, brilliant, beautiful soul friends here, i miss people so much sometimes it hurts. Ashliegh, Amanda, Lisa, Kyle, not to mention my sister... they're just all so far away, and sometimes all i want is to see their faces and in their presence just BE. it's where i'm most comfortable, but they're scattered all over the western hemisphere!

So, with my heart burdened and my mind spinning i decided to take a drive up into the mountains. i hear that running clears your head because the wind in your face is so crisp and cold and fast-moving. well, i don't go running. however, i can get ABOVE the city where no one can talk to me, bother me, distract me, help me. it's running in a less litera sense, but whatever works. i can't really go far because my poor little four cylinder car would hate me (probably to the point of blowing up in my face, literally). but i drove up to where there's a beautiful view of the city, leaned my driver seat back, looked up at the sky and out at the city, put some worship music on i hadn't listened to for a while and just laid there. i wish i could say that i calmly let my worries slip away as i handed them to God, but that's really not the truth.

Instead, i told Him how sad i am sometimes, how lonely and double minded. I asked Him what the heck's going on, and i wish He'd just DO something already. I told Him i know i'm being a whiny little child, asking for more from the only One who's ever loved me perfectly. I told Him i don't want to be this way, so weird and meloncholy and discontent. I go for weeks, months even, feeling completely satisfied, happy with my life because God's illuminating it and making everything worth it, and then one day everything crashes down. All i want on these days is for all this to be over. I'm not suicidal. I know maybe it sounds that way. But the truth is, i know that all the longings in me will be filled and rendered non existent when i'm with my Jehovah.

I realized while looking out my dirty window at the city a couple things: 1) my view of this life is exactly like looking out my window. i'm surrounded by love notes, beauty flooding every corner of this world, but i can only see through the dirty window of my tiny, dirty, selfish, constricted mind. no wonder i get angry. who likes dirty windows!? 2) everything on this earth, good or bad, contains an element of exlusion. when you choose anything, essentially you're NOT choosing the other. when you choose sinful pleasures, you're dismissing God's favor in your life. when you choose the Lord, it's a constant exclusion of hatred, self, and now-ness. when you choose to get married, you are lessening ties with some friends. when you move to a new place, even if it's the absolute right thing to do, you leave an old life behind. This may seem obvious to you, but to me it was an epiphany and made me want my Jesus more. Because He says that in Him is FULLNESS of joy. there's no shadow where He is, only light, more brilliant than the brightest day. He IS Love, not the absence or resistance to hate.

I know this post is all kinds of scattered. i don't care. maybe it more honestly reflects my state of mind.

i guess i'm just homesick. for my actual home in Heaven with AbbaFather and for the home i find in my dad, my family, my favorite friends.

oh, and p.s. the worship music DID draw my heart upward and away from myself. i drove down the mountain almost skipping inside, knowing that whatever the day's worries are, they're sufficient for the day, and i need not worry about tomorrow. also, i went to Shove Chapel on the CC campus, and there was a Taize Christian service going on there. it was strange to me, very different. there were songs in Latin and a lot of silence. i think i needed it after all that sobbing.