Stop Saying Mean Things

I was at a women's clothing swap last night, and just as an aside, let me tell you it was fantabulous!

I was with some amazing, godly, beautiful, grounded women.

But, I still heard it.

"My butt's too big." "I'm bigger than you." "You're smaller than me." "My boobs are too _______" (insert big/ small/ flat). "I'm too short." And my personal favorite that I said, out loud to the girl (sorry not sorry?), "cry me a river. I feel so sorry for you": "I'm too tall". 
(some of these were in the context of a specific item of clothing. I'm too tall for this dress. I'm too short for this one. But why can't we blame the clothes? This dress is too long for me. These pants are too tight- not because I'm too big, but because they aren't the right size for my body etc).

And I personally decided to share my least favorite part of my body (No secrets here, it's the little bulge between my arm and my side, up by my armpit. You'll only see it if I'm wearing a strapless top, which is rare).

I love these ladies dearly, and I fully participated in criticizing my own body while praising others, so please don't hear me judging them in a condemning way. It's almost impossible to think positively about our bodies because of the culture we live in and the lies we are fed every day by the enemy of our souls- Satan, who would like for us to be trapped in shame and not walk in our own God-given glory.

Ya'll, that's NOT OKAY. Negative body talk and comparison is WRONG and it has to STOP.

I have to stop. I'm talking to ME, and I'm telling you so you can keep me accountable. God gave me this body. It is His handiwork, and who am I to judge it?!*

I've been thinking about this topic ever since I read the following quote on my friend Craig's facebook page (edited some for clarity because the info was actually posted in two different overlapping sections. I think I remained true to the actual message):

This is a quote from an advice column that really struck me as a profound insight. The columnist was responding to an 18 year old man who said that he was too ugly to be loved and didn't know how to handle it.

The columnist told him that his problem was his attitude, not his looks, and that he had gotten into the habit of thinking cruel things about himself because it felt like he was being honest.

"You’re engaging in what YouTuber ContraPoints famously calls 'Masochistic Epistemology': if it hurts, it must be true. To put it another way, you could call it "the harsh truth fallacy:" the truth is often painful to hear, but just because something is painful to hear doesn't mean it is true. The fact is, that’s bullsh**. All that you’re doing is emotional self-harm, the psychological version of cutting. The only difference is that you’re cutting your soul and your self-esteem, not your flesh."

Describing negative self talk as "the psychological version of cutting" blew my mind.

All that you’re doing is emotional self-harm, the psychological version of cutting. The only difference is that you’re cutting your soul and your self-esteem, not your flesh."

Daaaa---aaannng. 

We're all familiar with the place in the Bible where Jesus tells his disciples that if they look at a women with lust, they've committed adultery with her. If they have hatred in their heart, they're committing murder. 

Look, I know my defects. Lust isn't a big problem for me. I'm not saying never, I'm just saying not often. I do hate some people sometimes, and all people every now and then, but those thoughts also tend to be pretty temporary. We all "see red" occasionally, right? (right?! Tell me I'm not alone).

But this? I've never thought I would cut myself (never say never right? that's prideful), but I talk bad about myself in my head a lot. I'm going to list some of them here. Do you know how to combat lies? Drag those nasty leeches into the light and watch them shrivel up. Allow other people to speak truth. Allow someone else to say "that's the story in your head, and it doesn't match reality." I've got someone, actually several someones, who do that for me, and I'm so grateful for them. But they can only help me with the lies I bring in to the light. And that's what makes toxic shame toxic- it keeps my fears, worries, and insecurities trapped in the darkness. It makes me think that if anyone knew all of me, they wouldn't love me. I actually believe I'm fully known and fully loved, and I still listen to the lies:

 I'm not good enough, I'm too much, I'm not a good mother. I'm not a good wife. If anyone is unhappy it's my fault. I'm lazy. Depression is my fault. That's my fault, this is my fault. I do everything wrong. I can't. I can't make things look nice. I'm messy. Look what you've done- this is why we can't have nice things. I'm slow. I'm boring. I'm fat. My thighs are too big and I've got a gut. If only I'd lose weight, my life would be better. I'm addicted to sugar (that one may be objectively true, actually). I hate my nose- it's too big. If anything goes wrong in my world, it's my fault. If anyone is unhappy it's my fault. I don't fit in. I'll never be in the "in" crowd or one of the cool kids. No one wants to be my friend- everyone is just being nice because they feel sorry for me.

And the list goes on. (Please hear me: I'm not asking you to come up to me and tell me nice things about myself. I'm not asking you to fix me. That's not your job..I was actually raised to be very suspicious of praise as flattery, and I always have my guard up against flattery. If you must say something, I can receive it better if it's not over the top. Don't tell me I'm the best mother you know. Tell me I'm good enough. I'm not aiming to be the best at anything. I'm just aiming for good enough, and that's okay.)

What I am asking is that you give me the privilege of hearing your inner thoughts and having permission to check your version of reality. None of us, I think, can truly experience reality because of our human limitations. But we can all help each other (see the Johari window). 

Friends, Romans, Countrymen- let's fight this. Okay? And let's not fight it alone. I'm inviting you to stand next to me in the cohort. The Roman legions were so effective in their fighting (in part) because one man would hold his shield partially over the man next to him in order to provide greater dexterity for his neighbors' sword hand (nerd alert- his sword hand would be his right hand because in Roman culture dexter actually means "right hand". The word for left hand is sinistra). Okay, that was free, moving along). What I'm trying to say is: will you fight with me? Will you fight for me? And will you let me do the same? Will you hold your shield over my heart to protect me from the fiery darts of the enemy?  and will you accept my shield over yours at the same time? I'm sorry, but this can't be a one way street where you get to say kind, true things about me, but won't receive the loving truth about yourself. That's not going to work for me. I will no longer stand by and watch you hurt yourself and allow others to hurt you. I'm going to speak up. And that's dangerous ya'll, cause this itty bitty voice of mine gets me in trouble all the time. 

But it's worth. You're worth it. 

*Please note that if you want to use being clinically obese or something like that to hate on your body, I will concede that I think God has called us to lead healthy lives and take care of our bodies. If you actually are clinically obese, I'd invite you to consider that your body will never heal if you don't do the work to heal your soul from the violence done against it. Let's talk more about that, or read The Body Keeps the Score. 

Worthy is the Lamb

Today, the phrase "worthy is the lamb" struck me in a new way. Actually, it's never really meant anything to me, but I know it's important because of this verse: 

And I beheld, and I heard the voice of many angels round about the throne and the beasts and the elders: and the number of them was ten thousand times ten thousand, and thousands of thousands; Saying with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour, and glory, and blessing. (Revelation 5:11-12. KJV)

10,000 x 10,000 seems pretty important, but I didn't get why. During worship at church, I felt the spirit whisper: "the Lamb is worthy of all your suffering." As I explore this idea in my heart, it feels true but painful. The sadness and the suffering that I experience here on earth is all worth it if I have the Lamb of God. Do I dare to believe that? 

If I think about it, there would be no sacrificial lamb if the Fall did not happen and cause all the suffering, sin, and pain that resulted from it. Would I have chosen for this all to happen differently? Yes. 

Today we prayed for a friend who has cancer. Would I have chosen that for him? No. Would I choose to remove it from him if I could? Yes. This weekend, my baby girl turned 4. FOUR!!! My baby is 4. It's not that Annie is 4 years old, that doesn't phase me; it's that the baby of the family is 4. There was supposed to be another baby- either about a year old or about 9 months. Yet Annie is the baby. Is that what I would have chosen? Not really. I've made my peace with it, and I am finding so much joy just in living the life I have here and now. But that's the beauty of it- I didn't get a choice to avoid suffering, but I still get the gift of the suffering and of The Sufferer. The sufferings of Jesus make Him a better priest for us: "Seeing then that we have a great high priest, that is passed into the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our profession. For we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." Yes, living in this world is hard and vexes my spirit, but God has provided mercy and grace and help. Praise the Lamb!

Why I Gave Up the Scale for Lent

A few people have complimented me on my bravery for being vulnerable and open. What they maybe didn't notice is that everything I've talked about that's hard is in the past. I've had some distance from it. Some time to reflect. The truth is, I have a harder time talking about what's bothering me right now. So, here it is. A current and present struggle.

Unsurprisingly, it took me a few weeks into Lent to figure out what I should give up.  After all, one of my mottos for the year is "better late than never" or "something is better than nothing." I considered the usuals- sugar, Facebook, junk food, tv. But none of those felt right. Somewhere into it, I realized that I felt called to give up weighing myself.

Yep, you read that right.

I'm not even sure where to begin talking about this. I know that as a child, I was totally free from any concern about my body image. Totally, blissfully, unaware that my body was anything but amazing. I may have started to care around 12, when I got my first pair of jeans- I still don't love jeans. They aren't very comfortable. But I digress. I think I really started to care around 15 when I was on the swim team again and had a very beautiful, slender friend. I started to notice that guys interacted with her differently than they did with me. While I have always enjoyed that I feel free to interact with my male friends as nothing more than just a friend, I think that I began to be jealous of my beautiful, popular friend. I remember her coming out of the bathroom at her house and exclaiming "I'm so excited! I am down to 100 pounds!" Now, I don't remember what I weighed at that point. It probably didn't matter to me. I'm guessing between 115 and 120? Maybe 125 because looking at pictures from those days, I had some chubby red cheeks, lol! But I think that's my first memory of associating a number with a goal for attractiveness.

Fast forward a few years, and I was weighing myself all the time. We had a scale in my bathroom, so I used it. I think a lot of it for me became about goal attainment. I can be pretty goal oriented. I went up and down a lot. In college, I actually lost about 15 pounds my freshman year because, hello! free gym! I also worked for the women's soccer team my sophomore year, I think? That's when I started running more than 3 miles at a time. I gained some muscle mass that year, but didn't mind too much.

I think my Jr year was when I went through a bad breakup and basically ate my feelings for a year and gained like 30 pounds or something crazy. I think I got up to140 something (please remember that I am short, so while that number may sound like a good target for some women, on my frame it's actually quite uncomfortable). That was not a good time for me: emotionally, physically, or spiritually. I think those typically go together for good self care, but that's a topic for another time.

Anyways, I could go on and on. I could tell you how much I weighed on my wedding day. How much I weighed after I ran my marathon. How much I weighed at the fittest point in my life (112 and lots of muscle and tan. sigh). How much weight I gained with both my kids. How much weight I gained during my 4th pregnancy and how much weight I gained eating my feelings after that miscarriage.

But you get the picture. I'm chained to the number on the scale.

The first time I began thinking about not weighing myself was when I attempted a Whole30 last summer. I failed, miserably. But the book says, in the quote in the box:

That quote stuck with me, and even though I weighed myself during my Whole30 attempt (shocking that I failed since I didn't follow the rules, huh?), I knew that they were right. I measured my satisfaction by the number on the scale.

To make matters worse, I pride myself on not buying into "the system." I don't wear makeup (except on special occasions). I refuse to wear uncomfortable clothes or shoes. I don't really even know how to curl my hair *. We have one mirror in the house, and it's not in the bathroom I use, so on any given day, I have no clue what I look like, even when I leave the house. But, I weigh myself. I want to be a certain number on the scale. I convince myself that I'm happy with my body, but the truth is it's only when I'm close to my target number. (I will put in a note here, I think there are certain weight ranges that work best for me because I feel strong, healthy, and confident and there's nothing wrong with knowing those ranges and aiming to stay there). So really, I was still participating in a system that judges women's worth based on some aspect of their appearance or body composition. Ick. I'm aware that that's a multi-billion-trillion dollar industry right there. And I don't want to have anything to do with that. I was wandering around the Southern Women's Show the other day, and noticed how many booths were selling products to help me be smaller, thinner, lose weight, lift my facial features, straighten my teeth, curl my hair, or straighten my hair, airbrush my face (no seriously, I tried it), put on fake lashes, or fake hair, or a tan. I could go on and on. Gag me with a barbie doll leg.  I want to quit. But, I want to look good doing it.

So, weight became a way to measure my self worth. I loved school. I miss school because no where in my life do I get the satisfaction of seeing an A+ on something I've done. (yes, I know. That's performance driven self esteem. Yes, I've talked to my counselor about it. But hey, it worked for me for a big part of my life). Now, no one's assessing me, which is sometimes a good thing, but it also means that no authority in my life is giving me tangible, positive feedback, and I was looking to my bathroom scale to do that. Even as I type that out, I'm a little surprised/ ashamed that this was de facto what was happening. How ridiculous. I should know better (that's shame's voice talking). I should know to look to God to affirm me and speak words of life over me, but that's not tangible. Not concrete. Not enough. Not enough because I wasn't choosing for it to be enough.

Anyways, I gave it up. I was tempted for a few days to just weigh every now and then, but then it started to be freeing. I started to feel happier with my body- especially on days when I worked out and felt strong or when I didn't have time to workout but decided to work in the garden or play with my kids. I got to workout because it feels good and not because it helps me lose weight. I'm even thinking about running again, something I gave up, hard, after my half marathon after Annie was born.

 Then, my cousin-in-law died, and I could feel my eating shift. I started to eat comfort food- lots of chocolate. And what made it different this time than the other times I ate my emotions is that I didn't have the scale judging me at the end of the day or the next morning. I was able to observe that I was stress eating and then have grace for myself about it. I was able to give myself grace. Grace for having feelings and grace for feelings that don't always come out normal but come out sideways in how I'm eating or how busy I'm keeping myself or how much I yell at my kids (more than I'd like). It's been beautiful. And I've felt good. I've appreciated my body. I feel strong and when I wear something flattering, I feel beautiful.

I got home from the Memorial Service at midnight on Easter. The next morning, I thought about weighing myself. Nope. I wasn't ready. I needed to keep giving myself grace for the stress of travel. I did eventually weigh myself and the number wasn't my target weight. The irony of this is that I had written down my weight goals for March and had grand plans to lose a few pounds. Y'know, swimsuit season and all that.** Instead I gained a few pounds. AND THAT'S OKAY. Do I want to stay up? No. I'm more comfortable at 115. But instead of focusing on the number on the scale, I'm going to focus on getting my emotions sorted out, eating healthy (er), and finding time to go to the gym or do my Momma Strong workouts at home. Am I saying I'm totally done with this struggle and just happy with my body no matter what from now on? PSHHHH NO! Nothing's that easy. In the wise words of Shrek "it's got layers, Donkey, like an onion." But you know what, it's progress. And I don't have to buy into the system that demands perfection anymore.


*(fun side note: I actually asked a Mrs. Nashville Beauty Contest Winner to teach me how to curl my hair. An hour into the process, she was like "yeah. You have a lot of hair. Maybe you should do something else with it).

PS- I wasn't sure whether to use actual numbers of my weight, but I decided to do it because Brene Brown talks about bringing things into the light being a powerful way to dispel shame. I carry shame about my weight- on the one hand about feeling like I weigh or have weighed too much. On the other hand, I feel shame about making a big deal out of a weight that other women would love to weigh. This is where it's so important to kick comparison to the curb and accept our body frames and differences. So please. please, please: if you are reading this and are tempted to feel badly about yourself through comparing your numbers to mine, don't. I don't care how much you weigh- you are beautiful. Your body is wonderfully made. It's a masterpiece.  And I'll confess that I haven't always believed that. I write this weeping, but at some points in my life, I judged other women's appearance. as much as my own, and that was unkind to everyone. But now, I invite you to join me on a journey of loving our bodies unconditionally.

Edited to add: Two books that helped me articulate some of the issues I was having with this were Present Over Perfect and Bread and Wine by Shauna Niequist. I recommend both.

**PS Swimsuit talk, preferably ladies only:
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Can we talk about swimsuits for a hot second? Ok. Actually, I edited my rant. Sorry. If you love a good rant, ask me in person or send me a message, lol. Here's the rantless version: Ladies, please wear what you are comfortable in because the cutest suit is not attractive if I'm uncomfortable in it. Are you comfortable in a bikini? Okay then. Who taught you self confidence? cuz I ain't got it! In a tankini? you rock! In a one piece or tankini with shorts? Fist bump, we're swimsuit twins! Seriously- I love being able to do anything I want in my swimsuit outfit- in front of anyone. Do you wear a full coverage outfit like this?  I mean, I'm kinda jealous, but afraid I'd be too hot and sweaty.

 See this video for kicks and giggles: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MyNfyiVrImo

Can God Be Angry at Suffering? Yes! No! Maybe?

I was asked this question as a comment on my post "I Hasten to Give Back my Ticket." I knew my answer would be long, so I turned it into a whole blog post. 

"So (speaking a bit like a mathematician), there is a the system in which you have "trust that there is a wisdom" that you don't (yet) understand. In that system, is there suffering because God does not have the power to prevent it? Or does He let it happen because it's good for us in the long run? Or does He make it happen because it's necessary for our development? Only in the first of these frameworks would there be room for God to be angry." ~Anonymous

I have found this difficult to find an answer because I imagine that there are quite a few presuppositions that we view differently. But instead of trying to get into all of those, I'm just going to answer your direct question the best I can (and let's all keep in mind that I am no expert and that "the experts" have been trying to answer these questions for quite some time. So ultimately, my answer is, I don't know if I have the right answer). 

1. "is there suffering because God does not have the power to prevent it?" No, that is not what I believe. I believe that God is omnipotent, so He has all power, which (I believe) is shown through miracles. 

2. "Does He let is happen because it's good for us in the long run?" Yes? and no? 
So, I believe that there are some kinds of suffering that are good for us in the long run, and I don't want to get too specific about what kinds those are because I honestly think that might be different for everyone. Comparing God to a parent, some examples might be vaccines or medicines or medical interventions that cause suffering. Other kinds of "suffering" are widely accepted as building character- running sprints, lifting weights, delayed gratification etc. 

I believe that there are some kinds of suffering that are the result of our choices or others' choices. Some of these can be more severe or traumatic than the ones I mentioned above. Could God intervene and prevent the suffering caused by consequences? I believe that He could but that He chooses not to. Again speaking as a parent, "natural consequences" are a powerful teaching tool for my children to learn to do or not do certain things (and that is not a strictly Christian viewpoint either. It's one of the few consequences that gentle parenting philosophies recommend. See Positive Discipline for more on that). 

I say it's a no because sometimes I think God doesn't want suffering to happen but allows it to happen because He values humanity's freedom to choose high enough to allow suffering and not because He wants to teach us something. However, I believe that God can redeem all of those things and use them after they have occurred. (the widely quoted "God works all things together for the good of those who love Him." which I do not believe means everything's going to be hunky dory if you just love God. I think it applies more in this context. Everything that has happened to a person, God can work for good.)

3. "Does He make it happen because it's necessary for our development?" Yes to this one too. But only under specific circumstances. This may be an unpopular view, but I find it difficult to read the Old Testament without seeing a recurring motif. Israel forgets about God and starts worshipping idols. So God allows something bad to happen, or sometimes even causes something bad to happen so that they will remember Him and come back into obedience. In Joel, there's a long list of maladies that happen to the Israelites with the context being that God is trying to call his people back to repentance, but I think it's condensed by this one verse "I will restore to you the years that the locust has eaten, the cankerworm, and the caterpiller, and the palmerworm, my great army which I sent among you."(Joel 2:25). Aside from the humor I find in God calling these bugs His great army, I think it's pretty clear that God is taking responsibility for this plague (which caused famine). Even in claiming that responsibility, God expresses a plan to restore the damage. The books of Joel and Amos would be fairly short examples of what I'm trying to reference here. Are these my favorite and most comfortable stories and ideas about God? No, not really. But there is something comforting about the idea that God will pursue me (not control me) when I pursue evil. I have no idea how often this happens in our current life, but it seemed to happen about every other generation for the Israelites!

To address your final statement "Only in the first of these frameworks would there be room for God to be angry": I disagree. If suffering is a natural consequence of poor choices, then I think God can be angry that the poor choice occurred, and in my view, is angry with and for us that the consequences are painful. And when the suffering is the result of someone else's poor, or even evil, choice, I think God can be angry for the victim and at the perpetrator. (I'm aware that their is a whole additional conversation about free will and sovereignty etc. But for now, I'll just say that I believe God values free will, and that free will results in negative consequences. John Milton says that man is "free to fall, sufficient to stand" or something like that, which is to say, God created humanity with the ability to choose evil and the ability to resist it). 

Even if God chooses to allow evil or even to inflict suffering, I think he can still be angry. A doctor may choose to inflict great suffering on a cancer patient to remove the cancer. I believe he or she still has room to be angry at the suffering the treatment causes. And in the case of God causing suffering necessary for our development, perhaps angry is not the right word. Perhaps empathetic would work better. 

I feel that my answer has gotten a bit messy. To summarize, I think there are different kinds of suffering and that some of those are allowed by God, and a few very specific ones are inflicted by God. In some of those scenarios, I think God does have room to be angry. In the final one, perhaps God does not have room to be angry at the suffering (I think He's pretty clear that he's angry at the disobedience of the Israelites in my example), but I believe he does empathize with those who are suffering.

Ultimately, I think any discussion of God allowing or causing suffering has be brought back to the idea that God voluntarily suffered and died on the cross to "correct" the mathematical system that required a sacrifice to be suffered that we could not endure. Whenever I am experiencing my own suffering, I am reminded that God is not asking me to experience anything that He has not already suffered. 

I will add from my original post that much of my anger is, in fact, directed towards the consequences of peoples' freedom to choose evil. I ponder what kind of system it would have to be to prevent people from choosing evil. Ultimately, people would not be able to choose. Or perhaps cause and effect could be divorced- allow people to make bad choices but remove the ill effects. However, I feel that would be a disservice to the one making bad choices (see A Picture of Dorian Gray for a fictional exploration of how Oscar Wilde imagined that working out). *Edit to add: A friend shared this quote, and I think it's beautiful and relevant: 

“Christ did not descend from the cross except into the grave. And why not otherwise? Wouldn’t it have put fine comical expressions on the faces of the scribes and chief priests and the soldiers if at that moment He had come down in power and glory? Why didn’t He do it? Why hasn’t He done it at any one of a thousand good times between then and now?

I knew the answer. I knew it a long time before I could admit it, for all the suffering of the world is in it. He didn’t, He hasn’t, because from the moment He did, He would be the absolute tyrant of the world and we would be His slaves. Even those who hated Him and hated one another and hated their own souls would have to believe in Him then. From that moment the possibility that we might be bound to Him and He to us and us to one another by love forever would be ended.

And so, I thought, He must forebear to reveal His power and glory by presenting Himself as Himself, and must be present only in the ordinary miracle of the existence of His creatures. Those who wish to see Him must see Him in the poor, the hungry, the hurt, the wordless creatures, the groaning and travailing beautiful world.”

                                                                                          ― Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow

Finally, I will reiterate that I believe this is a "not yet" system. I think that there is some suffering that goes unredeemed in this life, and that feels the most tragic to me, but I tend to think that's because I can't imagine how it will work out after this life (that's a big one of those presuppositions I mentioned at the beginning). Paul writes in the New Testament that if Christ is not risen from the dead, we (Christians) are the most miserable people of all, and I think that applies to this belief that suffering can be redeemed, miraculously, by the resurrection from the dead. 

My apologies if that got way too mystical at the end there. 

Happiness. . . hello?

Happiness. Putting up the hammock for the kids when they ask and listening to their screams. 

I've noticed that I'm posting a lot more on Facebook. Like, a whole lot more. Probably 10-20x more than I was posting six months ago. Why is that?
Well, I'm feeling happy. Or, my counselor would correct, happiness is not a feeling.
Fine.
I'm feeling, joy?

It feels strange. Unfamiliar. Scary.

Yep, joy feels scary to me.

I'm afraid that it's all a charade. That the other shoe is about to drop. That everything is about to go wrong again- just when I'm starting to find joy. I'm staying curious with myself about why this is scary, but I think it's partially because I'm afraid of it ending. I read a beautiful quote when I was just falling into anxiety and thought that I could will my way out of it. I think this was good advice even though I needed more help than this. I took a screenshot to save it:



My takeaway from this is that I can't keep this joy here by clinging to it. I can welcome it and I can enjoy the happiness, and I have to hold it lightly and be willing to move into the next season- aiming to do so with contentment and grace.

I'm also feeling guilty. Do I feel guilty because I don't feel like I deserve happiness? Maybe. Certainly when I think about all the people in the world whose lives are not thriving. Nothing in my life makes me think that I deserve happiness instead of them. But that's based on comparison, and I'm trying to avoid comparisons.
And it's different than that. I think I feel guilty because I feel like this joy or happiness or whatever is based on my circumstances. Life is pretty good right now. There's a phrase "this too shall pass." I've always applied that to negative or hard times, but I'm realizing that it's for the good times too. Whatever season I am in right now, it shall pass. I'm praying that I will have the character to find contentment in whatever season comes next and not just yearn back to "the good times."

I'm fearful that I will go right back to being discontent and kinda miserable, but I'm hopeful that I've grown a bit as a person. We're all storytellers, right? We tell ourselves stories about our lives to make sense and meaning out of it. One story that popped into my head was that I've come out of a chrysalis and "I'm a beautiful butterfly."  I was wrapped up real tight in my pain and my fear and my anxiety, but I have come forth changed.

That's really uncomfortable for me- to think that I've accomplished something or "arrived." As I was sitting in that, I felt the Holy Spirit sortof whisper "There will be more chrysalides*, and there will be more emergences, until the final resurrection." I'm relieved- I've made progress, yes, but this is not as good as it gets, nor do I need to pressure myself to perform a certain way. Also, I think it's appropriate to add that I can't take credit for any of this. If I were in the driver's seat, so to speak, things would have gone differently. And still: hope springs up in the unlikeliest of places. 

One final note, I'm still finding that gratitude is serving me well. When I start to feel fearful or guilty, I use that as a reminder to be grateful. Grateful for where I am and what I had to go through to get here. Grateful for the joy and the love I feel. Grateful for the recognition that even this beautiful season is not perfect, and that is good. That is real. Imperfections help me accept this season more than anything else, and I am grateful for them. 

*yes, I did have to look up the plural of chrysalis

"I hasten to give back my entrance ticket."

In today's She Reads Truth, we read about Exodus and how that is all part of God's plan and that Exodus points us to Christ and his redemption. I can believe all of that on a macro level, but when I think about the micro level, I get all kinds of sad and angry. I imagine what my faith would have been like as a slave in Egypt, praying for deliverance and then realizing I would die before deliverance came. Or if I was a mother in Egypt whose baby boy was murdered while Moses grew up- miraculously delivered from death by God. Why not my son? Why did God let my child die? 

I recognize that these are all different ways of wrestling with the question "why/ how can God allow suffering?" I think it's good to wrestle with it from a lot of different angles. It creates empathy and openness to learn. 

Part of our reading from yesterday's She Reads Truth was from Genesis 3:16-19:

To the woman he said,

“I will surely multiply your pain in childbearing;

iin pain you shall bring forth children.

jYour desire shall be contrary to6 your husband,

but he shall krule over you.”

17 And to Adam he said,

“Because you have listened to the voice of your wife

and have eaten of the tree

lof which I commanded you,

‘You shall not eat of it,’

mcursed is the ground because of you;

nin pain you shall eat of it all the days of your life;

18  thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you;

and you shall eat the plants of the field.

19  By the sweat of your face

you shall eat bread,

till you return to the ground,

for out of it you were taken;

ofor you are dust,

and pto dust you shall return.”

Reading this curse brings grief and sadness and longing, and yes, anger, into my heart. 

Thinking about those poor murdered babies, and the ones later- when Christ comes and Herod kills the babies in Bethlehem, I am often reminded of Ivan Karamazov's conversation with Alyosha in The Brothers Karamazov. I highly recommend reading the whole chapter and the next- they are powerful.  (or just read the whole thing). In this chapter, Ivan, an "atheist" recounts multiple anecdotes of people torturing or abusing children. He says:

"Can you understand why a little creature, who can't even understand what's done to her, should beat her little aching heart with her tiny fist in the dark and the cold, and weep her meek unresentful tears to dear, kind God to protect her? Do you understand that, friend and brother, you pious and humble novice? Do you understand why this infamy must be and is permitted? Without it, I am told, man could not have existed on earth, for he could not have known good and evil. Why should he know that diabolical good and evil when it costs so much? Why, the whole world of knowledge is not worth that child's prayer to ‘dear, kind God’! I say nothing of the sufferings of grown-up people, they have eaten the apple, damn them, and the devil take them all! But these little ones! I am making you suffer, Alyosha, you are not yourself. I'll leave off if you like.” 

“Never mind. I want to suffer too,” muttered Alyosha." . . . 

". . . too high a price is asked for harmony; it's beyond our means to pay so much to enter on it. And so I hasten to give back my entrance ticket, and if I am an honest man I am bound to give it back as soon as possible. And that I am doing. It's not God that I don't accept, Alyosha, only I most respectfully return Him the ticket.” 

“That's rebellion,” murmured Alyosha, looking down 

“Rebellion? I am sorry you call it that,” said Ivan earnestly. “One can hardly live in rebellion, and I want to live. Tell me yourself, I challenge you—answer. Imagine that you are creating a fabric of human destiny with the object of making men happy in the end, giving them peace and rest at last, but that it was essential and inevitable to torture to death only one tiny creature—that baby beating its breast with its fist, for instance—and to found that edifice on its unavenged tears, would you consent to be the architect on those conditions? Tell me, and tell the truth.” “No, I wouldn't consent,” said Alyosha softly. “And can you admit the idea that men for whom you are building it would agree to accept their happiness on the foundation of the unexpiated blood of a little victim? And accepting it would [270] remain happy for ever?” 

“No, I can't admit it. Brother,” said Alyosha suddenly, with flashing eyes, “you said just now, is there a being in the whole world who would have the right to forgive and could forgive? But there is a Being and He can forgive everything, all and for all, because He gave His innocent blood for all and everything. You have forgotten Him, and on Him is built the edifice, and it is to Him they cry aloud, ‘Thou art just, O Lord, for Thy ways are revealed!’ ” 

“Ah! the One without sin and His blood! No, I have not forgotten Him; on the contrary I've been wondering all the time how it was you did not bring Him in before, for usually all arguments on your side put Him in the foreground. Do you know, Alyosha—don't laugh! I made a poem about a year ago. If you can waste another ten minutes on me, I'll tell it to you.” (from Brother's Karamazov, "Rebellion" Book V. Chapter IV). 

The story continues, but I find the same question in my heart as Ivan poses: how could I choose to let even one child suffer, as millions have, to save the whole world? How could God choose that? I think part of the answer is that Christ can choose that because He was willing to suffer and die, and in doing so, saved the whole world. It still does not make sense to me, and I do not understand why God has allowed it to be so, but I trust that there is a wisdom there that I do not understand. I also think that I have a lot to learn about how God redeems suffering. By my math, nothing can redeem some kinds of suffering, but I'm not very good at math. ;) 

At the same time, I believe that I am right to be angry at the suffering of the innocent. I believe that God is angry about injustice and that He will avenge it. 

Reflections on Jonah 1 and 2

I'm reading the She Reads Truth study on the minor prophets.
Today, I'm in Jonah, and it's so rich, I thought I'd type it up here to share.

First, I'm impressed by how much Jonah does to avoid doing God's will, and then to confess! In the boat, they have to wake him, tell him to pray because they're all going to die. He doesn't say "oh yeah, that's God trying to get my attention" and they have to throw all the cargo overboard and eventually cast lots. Finally, when the lot is cast on him, he confesses that he's running away from God and that they should just throw him overboard.

Then, these sailors work hard to save him by trying to row to shore! I'm so impressed by the faith of the sailors- they pray, they ask questions, and then they risk their lives and put their skin in the game to try to keep Jonah alive. When they realize that Jonah is right, they pray and ask God to forgive them for throwing Jonah overboard (to what they assume is his death). That's pretty amazing to me.

Second, and everyone points this out- God pursues Jonah. In the She Reads Truth study it says "God's pursuit is relentless exactly because He is so loving. . . God wanted Jonah. Good, isn't that amazing? I sometimes feel like I'm a substandard version of the person who should actually be living my life. . . But despite my imperfections and failings. . . God gives specific callings to specific people (Ephesians 2:10). That means God wants me for my particular calling and life."

http://shereadstruth.com/2017/10/17/jonahs-call/

From Jonah chapter 2, I was struck by the fact that Jonah waits 3 days and nights in the fish's belly before crying out to God. Was he still pouting in there? Refusing to ask for help since that would mean having to obey?

Sometimes I feel guilty when I ask God for help and comfort if I haven't been diligent in Bible Study or prayer/ meditation/ communion with Him (so, almost always). But Jonah says "I am cast out of they holy temple, yet I will look again toward they holy temple" (2:4) and "When my sould fainted within me, I remembered the Lord: and my prayer came in unto they holy temple" (2:6) Jonah didn't remember God UNTIL his soul fainted! And "the Lord spake unto the fish, and it vomited out Jonah upon the dry land!

Why? Why did God listen to Jonah? "For thou, Lord, art good, and ready to forgive; and plenteous in mercy unto all them that call upon thee." Psalm 86:5 God listens to Jonah, and to me, because of who HE is, not because I am ever good enough or diligent enough to attract His attention and care. That is so comforting and relieving to me!

"Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need." (Heberew 4:16). Amen! I can not let guilt or fear keep me from asking God for help.

Here are some excerpts from today's reading that I feel like are relevant to my previous post about miscarriage:

"I bet if Jonah had know beforehand that he would get swallowed by a fish, he never would have stepped foot on that boat. Many of the places God brings us to are ones we would never choose for ourselves. But that is the point: when we stop trying to find ourselves, we can see that we've already been found.

"Pastor and auther A.W. Tozer said, 'In every generation, the people who have found God have been those who have come to the end of themselves. Recognizing their hopelessness, they have been ready to throw themselves on the mercy and grace of a forgiving God.' ***

"Of course we don't want to walk through storms and sit in darkness and sleep in the underbelly. But what if we remembered these are the places where grace usually meets us? Sometimes grace is messy and dark. Sometimes mercy is painful and scary. God does not need perfect circumstances to bring us closer to HIm. In face, it's usually the opposite.

"Let's not overlook that Jonah thanks God for raising his life from the pit while he is still in it. May we do the same today, allowing grace to meet us and mercy to surprise us. We can trust that even as we cry out to God in our distress, He is faithfuul to answer our call. (Jonah 2:2). Thanks be to God"

http://shereadstruth.com/2017/10/18/jonahs-prayer-2/

(In retrospect, maybe I should have just posted the whole blog, lol).

*** I, Gloria, used to hate this quote, because I didn't feel like I'd ever been brought to the end of myself, so I felt kindof disqualified from considering myself a good Christian, and because I really, really wanted there to be a short cut to avoid being brought to the end of myself. Like, couldn't I maybe just turn to God and ask for help before I ran out of strength? I think that's always a good thing to do, but I see now that being totally helpless digs deeper into the soul.