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Author Confessions: What My Dogs Teach Me About My Relationship With God, 3 of 7

Aug17
Reading Time: 3 minutes

Author Confessions: What My Dogs Teach Me About My Relationship With God, Part 3 of 7

If you haven’t read my previous posts you can find them here, and here.

PEACE IN THE STORM

Spatzle  was by my side during a difficult season in life. Years ago, when my kids were young, my oldest Hobbit would sometimes experience an emotional meltdown, I would go to sit by my son and speak softly to him in an effort to calm him down. Spatzle was not intimidated by my son’s outburst which could be loud and aggressive. My dog would jump up and sit on my lap and I would pet him. The motion was calming for me but also I suspect, for my son. I would pray out loud for my son during those times as well. Spazle just continued his steady presence.

ASKING FOR HELP

Dogs can’t tell us they are hurting. Spatzle was not a demanding pet. If I was a little slow in taking him out regularly, he might come and tell me. But when he started barking at me while I was working and then putting his paws on me, it usually indicated something was wrong. Lyme disease and back issues plagued him, but I wouldn’t have had a clue if he hadn’t sought me out. Both issue made it difficult for him to go up and down stairs, of which there were many inside and outside our home. Having to carry him in and out of the house at first felt like he was seeking attention, but he wasn’t. He was in pain. Once he had some medication, the issue resolved and he was back to taking the stairs and jumping up to the back of the couch.

When Oliver was a puppy, he got stuck in a box and barked as if to say, “I’m stuck! Help!”

I hate asking for help. I don’t want to be seen as needy. We all go through seasons where we should ask, and generously receive, help. Our first call should always be to God.

DO YOUR DUTY

Spatzle didn’t demand attention. He was the only dog in the house and confident in his position and my love. He slept at the foot of my bed every night and at times would jump up to sit by me in a chair while I read. He took his duty seriously to protect our family. We didn’t need a doorbell, as we had a dogbell. We rarely heard the doorbell ring because Spatzle was on the job. Now Oliver glady takes that position in our home.

He kept watch without any encouragement from me. He had food, shelter, affection, and was safe. His needs were met and he rewarded us with his bark. He had a job to do and took it seriously.

I have a job to do as part of the family of God, and I pray I can be as dependable as my dog in fulfilling the calling God gives me.

PART OF THE FAMILY

Spazle would  bark if someone came over and I chatted with them. He’d stop once I picked him up. He insisted on being part of the conversation and didn’t want to be left out. If someone came over and refused to acknowledge him, he would also let them know, in uncerstain terms, that he was someone to be reckoned with and once they gave him a pet, he would go back to his watchpost. Spazle was part of the family and never let us forget it.

It would be easy to forget that I am also part of the family of God and when the time is appropriate, to be acknowledge as existing. That’s partly why I love my church. I’m not invisible there even if people don’t know me. I’m not more important than anyone else, but I’m also not less important. I’m part of the family. And if I ask God to hold me while He’s speaking, that’s OK by Him.

In spite of all that, I remember that sweet face so fondly, and the lessons my dog taught me about my relationship with God. Do any of these resonate with you?

Author Confessions: What My Dogs Teach Me About My Relationship With God, 2 of 7

Aug10
Reading Time: 4 minutes

Author Confessions: What My Dogs Teach Me About My Relationship With God, Part 2 of 7

If you haven’t read my previous post you can it here.

UNIQUENESS

As you will see in upcoming posts, each of my dogs are unique in so many ways. It is a delight to explore that with them and watch them express themselves and teach me different things about them, and God. How dare I try to compare myself to anyone else when God has also made me unique and delightful? We all have our own quirks and unique journey in life and I need to embrace that, just as I have welcomed and embraced these dogs.

I want to start going into each of my dogs individually. Not all in one post, but they all have different things to teach me.

First up is Spatzle. I got him at 4 years of age. He had been surrendered by his owners because “He barked too much.” He didn’t bark at all for months.

NO PLAN

Dogs live fully in whatever moment they find themselves. They will try to let me know if they need to go out because they’ve been trained to, but once outside even relieving themselves might need to wait until they sniff around, or check for other people around who might pet them. If the weather is bad, however, getting their business done and coming back into the house are the plan. They trust me to lead them on a walk or to feed them and because I leave food out and they can eat when they are hungry.

SUBMISSION

When training a dog, one has to establish who is the boss, or the alpha. The dog learns the rewards of submitting (usually a treat or praise) and the consequences of disobedience (no treat or sometimes, I’ll be honest, a scold).

God is the ultimate Alpha. He is King of the Universe. He is above and beyond anything grand my finite brain can fathom, yet how often do I fail to seek His face?

My sin is exponentially worse than my dog peeing or pooping in the house. I can clean up those, and sometimes the consequences of my own sin are that easy to manage. If my dog escapes the leash thinking freedom is wonderful, and refuses to come when I call, it could mean his death if he were hit by a car or some other tragedy befalls him or her.

God will always be there, no matter what the consequences and His love never ends no matter how egregious a sin I might commit. He will not always rescue me from the consequences of that sin. Not that He couldn’t, like if I cannot grab my dog before a car runs it over, but because He allows the natural world to run its course and nothing is ever wasted, even my suffering due to my own failure to submit to the One Who loves me best.

ONE ON ONE TIME

Spatzle was a Maltese mix, part Maltese, part Shih Tzu. We rescued him on Valentine’s Day which was also my middle Hobbit’s birthday. He cried all the way home. Three hours of non-stop whining no matter how much we petted him. He also didn’t poop for days!

He quickly adjusted to our home and made himself comfortable and chose me as his person. The breed can be known for separation anxiety. Spatzle was respectful. He rarely had an accident in the house and never chewed up things he wasn’t supposed to. He did bark, and was most vocal with the postal carrier. I suspect he couldn’t understand why that person wasn’t staying to give him some love.

Initially Spatzle would rush to the door when I came home, and bark incessantly to be picked up. I refused to do that until I had set stuff down or hung up my coat. Then, I would give him my attention. I would pick him up and snuggle and then he was fine and would run off to keep  guard against any mail deliveries.

Eventually he understood I would come for him and he would run to wait for me in the living room, on the sofa. Once I got in there, I would grab his favorite toy and we would play tug of war, with me often spinning him around on the hardwood floors. Oh, he absolutely loved that! He would eventually win the war and jump back to the sofa with his prize. We were both happy.

When he grew older, he didn’t have the energy for that and he would bark at first and then wait for me to come and acknowledge him.

Spatzle trusted that I didn’t forget about him, and that I loved him. How much more do I need wait for God to reveal Himself to me? It might be in a different way in different seasons. His love is constant and He delights in time spent with me. Seeing me happy to be with Him, makes God’s heart happy too.

I love looking at what my dogs teach me about my relationship with God. Do you resonate with any of these?

Author Confessions: What My Dogs Teach Me About My Relationship With God, 1 of 7

Aug3
Reading Time: 3 minutes

Author Confessions: What My Dogs Teach Me About My Relationship With God, Part I of 7

The other morning, as I was about to open my Bible to read, my sweet puppy, Oliver, jumped into my lap and sat across my journal. I stopped and petted him. I started to think about what my sweet dog can teach me about my relationship with God.

Before I go further, let me explain that there is a difference between Special Revelation (The Holy Bible) and General Revelation, how all creation cries out in testimony of who God is. In Romans 1:19-20, Paul states: “For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.”

I’ll be likely writing more than one of these so I wanted make sure you understand that this is what I am learning from the humble and sweet, dogs that God has entrusted me with. I apologize to owners of other types of pets, but maybe some of these will resonate with you regardless of what kind of pet you have.

I want to start out generally. I’ve often thought that a dog’s life was easy but as a human being I realize it is not.

DEPENDENCE

My dogs have to completely trust me. They need to pee or poop outside (although they sometimes fail to follow through on this as I would prefer). I can use the bathroom whenever I feel then need and not at the whim of someone else without access to a facility to relieve myself. I get the comfort of a bathroom as well, not needing to use the facilities regardless of weather and temperature.

My dogs also have to wait for me to return home and provide them with food. I hope I am as faithful as they need me to be in providing them with good food and plenty of fresh water.

As a human being I would struggle with this.  Sure, as a child I was utterly dependent on my parents to provide me with food and water, but when they left the house, when I was little, they provided me with a babysitter, until I got old enough to care for myself.

My current dogs are in a crate during the night, waiting for me to release them in the morning without whimper or complaint. They are in a playpen when I am  gone, sometimes with music playing and food and water available. They have no idea if I’m going to be gone for one hour or eight. And if I’m lucky they won’t leave me any gifts to clean up.

While we are all, as human beings, interdependent on others. I sometimes forget how dependent on God I am. For my every breath, or money for the rent, food to eat, a safe place to sleep at night. God has provided me far more than I deserve. How much more should I be climbing into His lap to express my gratitude.

KINDNESS

My dogs trust me to be kind to them. One, as I will explain in a future post, has a traumatic past, so she can still be shy about that and while most dogs will be chagrined if scolded for bad behavior, she will cower in fear. How much more should I quake before the holiness of God?

When I call their name, their tales wag and they come close. They anticipate good from me, whether it is a treat or some petting. God is calling me to meet with Him, not to discipline me, although He needs to do that too at times, but to show me His goodness.

It’s been a deep joy for me coming to our church after some wounds from our previous congregation. I anticipate with joy being with others to worship God! That is how it should be but hadn’t been for a long time. My dogs, likewise, jump and bark for joy when I come home because they delight in being in my presence! There is more freedom for them when I am there, and of course, the potential for treats. I’m glad I can experience that joy going to church, but the reality is I can experience that every time I pray or read His Word or talk about Him with someone else.

Oh, there is so much more to explore about what my dogs teach me about my relationship with God. Maybe you can suggest some you’ve experienced with your pet!

Author Confessions: Who Are You?

Jul27
Reading Time: 3 minutes

Author Confessions: Who Are You?

Many years ago, I attended a Christian conference for people in the field of psychology. The workshops were great. A few of the women decided to go to lunch. I had never met any of them before.

I asked them the question beyond your name, Who are you?

The first one started to talk about their position working in a non-profit helping unwed mothers. While that is a noble career, I needed to stop her. I said, “That is what you do, which is great, but who are you?”

Another one made an attempt to answer the question but again talked about their work. Fair enough, we were at a conference to help us in our careers.

Maybe I’m obnoxious, for sure I was persistent. I said “Who you are is not what you do for a living.”

What would an example be? I’m a child of God. I’m and encourager, creative, I love hearts, flowers, and gardening (but am not a fan of weeding). I can be impulsive and silly at times. I love music and singing. I love the church. Now I would probably add, I love being married to Ben, playing mini-golf, and occasionally driving a skid-steer. I’m also an INFJ and while I love being with people I prefer one-on-one conversations to large groups. I’m a WISIWIG – what you see is what you get. I’m not good at putting on airs and while I might reveal all my history or secrets, I’m pretty honest and my face will sometimes communicate more than my words might say!

After I gave them an example they struggled to find ways to describe themselves and separate their profession from their identity. I am not what I do, however, who I am will express itself in how I do whatever work I undertake. I could eventually, upon a closer connection to someone, share some of the lessons I’ve learned from the experiences that have shaped who I am today.

How about you? If someone asks you: Who are you? How would you respond? It’s easy and almost a way to brag and also put up a wall, to give a profession or degree, or successes.

If I say I enjoy writing books, which I do, it is different from saying I’m a multi-published author of over 38 stories. Well, that definitely sounds more impressive and if I added “best-selling” or “award winning” into that description it might give you an elevated view of who I am. Awards or book sales, or a job that pays a high salary, are not things that define WHO I am. They might describe a fleeting moment in time, and make up part of my story, but they are not my identity before God.

When I write my character might start out with some kind of job, but the fun of a story isn’t learning about their work, it’s learning about the person themselves and what makes them tick. A romance can’t be built only on career compatibility (is there such a thing?).

I will confess there are times when I want to toss out my experience, education or successes, but it doesn’t matter to God in the long run. While earthly achievements are nice and in many ways a form of validation from the world, and maybe from God, it is more the work of our heart and our desire to honor Him in all things that will matter more.

It takes more time to get to know someone beyond their job, but it is a worthy endeavor. I have two neighbors I want to get to know better and neither of them work outside the home. I’ve been a homemaker myself for many years. I look forward to learning more about the things that they enjoy and what stirs their hearts and what kinds of hopes and dreams they may have. And maybe be able to encourage them with the challenges they face.

God isn’t going to say “well-done good and faithful servant” to me based on a GPA, or the level of education I have or the amount of money I made during my lifetime. Only HE truly knows the number of people whose lives have been impacted by interacting with me – both positively and negatively.

Who are you? How would you answer that question?

 

Author Confessions: The Gift of Quality Time

Jul20
Reading Time: 3 minutes

Author Confessions: The Gift of Quality Time

If you’ve ever studied The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman, you might know that one of them is quality time. That is one of my top love languages and I will often go out of my way to connect with people via one-on-one connections. However, if I offer a potential new friend my contact information or suggest connecting face to face and they aren’t responsive when I ask to set a time/date/location, then I let it go. I’m not that important to them and that’s fine. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea.

Since I’ve moved, I will easily make the forty-five minute drive back to my hometown to connect one on one with a friend, or family. I don’t mind the drive and figure friendships are worth the sacrifice of time. A few years ago, my husband and I drove cross county, over 1,200 miles from Wisconsin to Houston Texas, to connect with a friend, although maybe next time I’ll fly!

A few weeks ago I had a birthday and my daughter texted a few days before saying she wanted to connect, in my town. I felt so honored that she would make time and drive to have a little lunch with me and see our house-in-progress. Then a few days later, another friend made the drive and took me to lunch, even looking for a place that I hadn’t tried before (and was wonderful). We got to sit and talk for long time. She made me a lovely birthday gift and I will think of her every time I use it, which will be often.

Two times in one week, people who love me showed that love by coming to spend time with me. Quality time. What a gift.

When I write, most of the best interaction between characters are in person, face-to-face interactions. Not just phone calls, social media posts, and text messages. Since Covid, we’ve become less inclined to do that in real life because we’ve become too comfortable with the distance. We sacrifice love for the sake of perceived safety. In a novel, those personal interactions are where people can go deeper in their understanding of one another.

When my husband and I are busy with all of our projects, sometimes I have to tell him that I need that quality time, away from the house, where we can talk about a lot of things, not the urgent work that sometimes takes priority. We regularly spend an hour at night talking before we go to sleep and I treasure that connection. Quality time is an essential part of our marriage.

I spend time reading the Bible and journaling every morning. It struck me that while I might think I’m really great at coming to meet with God, and it is, there’s more. Sure, I want to grow closer to Him. I want to grow in my faith and knowledge of God. In wisdom. I find that my time with God makes my day better.

I was missing something more important. God comes to meet with me. From heaven to earth, through the Holy Spirit, it might not be forty-five miles, and it’s more than 1,200. It is a distance I cannot fathom. Because of Jesus and His death on the cross, and the gift of the Holy Spirit indwelling, I have the honor of God meeting with me at great cost to Himself. I started taking it for granted. I’d lost the wonder of how miraculous and what a gift that God, the Creator of the universe would drop everything to meet with me any time I call upon Him, because He dwells within me by His Spirit. What a mind-boggling gift!

I don’t expect my friends to travel long distances to meet with me. Maybe I don’t feel like I’m worthy of that even though I will gladly do that for them. God loves me even more than that.

How far have you traveled to give the gift of quality time to someone? Do you have friends you would go to great lengths to go to spend time with them? How about God? Are you treasuring the time with Him? My depth of appreciation has deepened for the time I spend with God, since to real life humans reminded me, just by showing me their love, that the gift of quality time is precious.

Author Confessions: My Journey to Faith

Jul13
Reading Time: 3 minutes

Author Confessions: My Journey to Faith

It dawned on me I never shared how I came to have a relationship with Jesus, so figured now was as good a time as any.

I was raised in Wisconsin and am the oldest of 6 children. As a child I would pray and was drawn to God. Even in private religious school I couldn’t seem to get close to Him and longed for that. My journals from way back then are filled with prayers and longing for Him (See? I was a writer way back then!). When I got to public high school I heard some kids talk about Campus Life/Youth for Christ and the meetings and concerts they would go to. They thought I was a Christian. So did I! I kept begging to be invited.

That first meeting they talked about misconceptions people have about Christianity and it was the first time I understood that I could have a personal relationship with Jesus. No mediator. I already understood that I was a sinner and that Jesus died for my sins, but longed to be close to God and didn’t know how to get there. Now I did! I prayed that night and my life was drastically changed. I was fifteen.

A week later I was in the local Christian bookstore to purchase a Bible. I ran into the director of Youth for Christ and told him my experience. He said, “It sounds like you’ve been born again.” I’d never heard those words before but it sounded right. I began devouring Scripture and attending meetings to learn and grow in my faith. The first Bible verse I ever memorized as a new believer was “Draw near to God and He will draw near to you.” (James 4:8). I became eager to share what I was reading and learning with my family, wanting them to come to know Jesus. I confess I was overzealous and obnoxious. My mother insisted I talk to their church leadership who then informed me I could not read the Bible without him guiding me. My parents forbade me from reading Scripture.

I wanted to honor my parents but realized from what I had already read in the scriptures, that my primary duty was to honor God. So, I read my Bible, but didn’t talk about it much at home. I continued to attend the church of my parents but also would attend a church that preached the gospel. I began to see how the religion I was brought up in didn’t square with what I was reading.

When I was 18, I was baptized by immersion and stopped attending my parent’s church. Funny note, the church I was attending didn’t have a baptismal. They would use one at another church building, but that June they hadn’t heated the water. I was instead baptized in a neighbor’s backyard swimming pool. At least it was warm!

I’ve been walking with God for 45+ years now. He has been with me through all the ups and downs of life, leading and guiding me, often out of my comfort zone. I could tell countless stories where He has worked and done sometimes even small things to show His love and power to me, and that even when I was in a difficult place, He hadn’t forgotten me. That includes leading me to my husband, Ben. God’s fingerprints are all over our meeting and courtship. I cannot imagine going through life without Jesus.

When I started writing I couldn’t help but have faith be a key part of any story. I tried once to write a story without it and failed and had to rewrite it. The faith line in Whitney’s Vow is not blatant, but it is there!

We recently moved and found a new church. God has taken the brokenness of the past and given me renewed joy in worshipping and seeking Him in this new season of life. We might be building a house (with God’s help!) but He’s still doing a remodeling project in me.

Notice I haven’t mentioned any denomination or religion in my post. That is by design. Christianity is not about a religion but a relationship and I’m so glad!

Psalm 19:14 is the prayer of my heart: “Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.”

What’s your journey to faith in Jesus?

Author Confessions: Big Hairy Audacious Goals

Jul6
Reading Time: 6 minutes

Author Confessions: Big Hairy Audacious Goals

Have you heard of Big Hairy Adacious Goals before? It was a thing many years ago, and while maybe the BHAG is not quite as talked about now, it is still a thing.

As a young person, I didn’t have any big hairy audacious goals. In reality, I chickened out from doing some things. Life circumstances didn’t give me the confidence to take the risks. I’m intentionally not being specific here because I want you to perhaps think about what big thing you might have passed up out of fear.

My husband on the other hand wanted to start a company like his father had. Make his own way in the world in a “I’ll show you,” kind of way. He worked in a factory by day and did sales on his breaks, and seeing people at night to sell things. His company helped him raise a huge passel of kids and he loved doing the work.

Until he didn’t. Sometimes work environments get tainted and the shine wears off. Then his wife took the company in the divorce and claimed she started it. Alone.

He doesn’t miss it. He doesn’t miss the way he was treated and devalued.

Then he met me and life started fresh and he’s set new goals for himself. Goals that get him up early in the morning and keep him busy all day. A new goal. Pursuing a dream he’d long had. I get to cheer him on through the ups and downs of acheiving that goal.

I never had great goals. Oh, I finished graduate school and got a job that I enjoyed. Then I wanted to have kids. After the second one, I got my dream of staying home with the kids. However, much like my husband’s history, that was fraught with some toxicity which made living out that dream, an everyday dream for many woman, difficult to survive.

I did survive, however, and when I was freed form the toxicity, I met someone who wanted me to get in on some multi-level marketing. I was hesistant but I was in need of an income. I was challenged to dream big about items I would spend the money on. God led me away from that.

All I ever really wanted was someone to love me, a home, my dog, and a garden. And to be able to keep writing.

Notice I didn’t say I wanted to be rich. Funny, since I was deep into poverty at that point. Sure having a newer car would be good, and the ability to keep my kids comfortable. For some people who have been beaten down by life, that is the big hairy audacious goal.

Around the time I met my husband, I was barely keeping my head above water financially but I was doing OK and started looking for work outside the home. My kids were older.

When I married my husband, he would have been fine with me working, but I didn’t need to. The needs of my family and myself were met. I was finally loved, had a home, a dog, and a garden. My kids were safe and provided for. I chose to stay home and my husband has continually expressed gratitude for that and what that provides him at the end of the day. The two kids who remained with me at the time also had the benefit of my availability when they went through some difficult periods. I even got to tow each kid out of a ditch! For my son it was on one off the coldest days of winter, but together we did it. Something I would never have been equipped to do in my old life. Bitter cold wasn’t fun, but being there for him then, still warms my heart now.

As an author, I’m supposed to be pursuing huge sales and a platform that gets the clicks. I’ve worked with a lovely virtual assistant (Hello, Bonnie!) and learned a lot of things. I’ve put much of that into practice in a way that works best for me so I don’t need to pay someone else to do that. There’s this idea of “return on investment,” when it comes to marketing and for me it’s pretty low. I’ve spoken with my publisher about what I should and shouldn’t do to market my books, so while I might not be doing everything others think I “should” be doing, I’m doing work she approves of and not much more.

I keep writing because I enjoy it and people who read my books tell me they want more. I hope there are more than just the few names that popped into my head just now: Heidi, Joan, Jenny, Kimberly, Anita, Lynn, and more that have written reviews (Thank you!). In reality, with all the marketing, and writing a blog, and well, just LIFE, it can be hard to be an author. My kids have moved out and I should have a lot of time to write books, but one husband can definitely take up more time! (and is worth it!). We are in transition as well, and that has placed us in a season like no other. This planner has learned to flex a lot.

So what’s my BHAG now? What big hairy audacious goal do I have at this point? I want to be in our home, welcoming friends for a meal, a game night, or a craft day. Or having people over for dinner to learn more about Jesus and the life He calls us to. I want to make a welcoming space for my husband to come home to, and for me to create in, whether it’s stories, or embroidering, or making cards. I can’t wait to plant bulbs for next spring and design my landscaping.  That doesn’t sound very big, does it?

As I was thinking about this though, a quote that Mary DeMuth made in her book, Restory Your Life, has resonated with me. “God does not call us to be spectacular, He calls us to be faithful.”

Maybe for some people that will mean having the resources for an expensive home, luxury cars, and travel. Maybe for some it means being on a best-seller list, or a keynote speaker (well-paid I’m guessing) at events.

Being on a best-seller list would be nice. Having a significant income from writing would be lovely. The reality for me is that I’m called to be faithful. My first pursuit is Jesus. Every day. Before anything else. And if He wants me to have any of those things He can make it happen. Right now, in this seasion, I’ve scaled back on doing author events, or being on faculty at writers conferences, which I love to do. And that’s OK. Will I ever do those things again? I don’t know.

I don’t need more than I have right now. Oh, sure there are prayers I pray for my kids as I watch their lives from a distance and remind myself their stories aren’t over yet.

Probably the one BHAG I haven’t mentioned is that I want to be able to encourage others on their walk with God. Whether I do that here, or one-on-one at a conference, or in my living room, is irrelevant. Big dreams and books sales pale in comparison to giving someone a kind word, or a hug to let them know that Jesus, and I, love them. That they matter. That God sees them. I’m still meeting people in my community and that can be lonely, yet at the end of the day when I got to give someone a word of encouragement, so they know they were seen, well, that’s priceless isn’t it? Big Hairy Audacious Goals don’t need to be about money. For me it’s about impacting people’s lives, and that happens one person at a time.

God sees me and He can do amazing things in my life. He already has done more than I could have dared to dream. If He can do that, then the best biggest hairy audiacious goal would be to hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” I doubt He’ll be looking at my bank account when He says it.

How about you? What are your big hairy audacious goals?

Author Confessions: Fractured Faith

Jun29
Reading Time: 3 minutes

Author Confessions: Fractured Faith

I’ve walked with God for more years than I’d like to admit. I’m still learning and growing and the more I learn the more I understand how little I know and God has to break through the me that was to make the a person who will be a better image bearer of Christ.

If I look in the mirror, I see an image that is, well, me. But if that mirror is cracked, the image is distorted. When glass is cracked the ability to see through it clearly to make out objects on the other side, is hard to make out. Broken mirrors and glass refract light all over in new ways.

I’m starting to think of myself as fractured glass. I’ve never been a put-together, no-issues-here kind of gal. I’m a WYSIWIG – What You See Is What You Get. Not that I will share the deep down dark secrets of my soul with everyone, but I’m no good at pretending I have it all together.

When I was in a difficult marriage, my countenance was simply me. When that relationship ended many people commented that I appeared brighter and happier. I personally couldn’t notice the difference. The heaviness of the years of abuse had taken a toll and when that was gone, the light of Jesus inside me could shine more brightly to those around me. That was His doing–not mine.

Now, that’s not to say that going through hard times will dim your shine. It might in some ways, but I’ve found that being honest in my struggles, and my faithfulness and devotion to God in the midst of that, speaks louder to many people. The difference between my joyful face then and after were different, and to those who watched me on the path of obedience to God’s calling, could discern the difference and rejoice with me in what God did to rescue me from that.

I wonder if someday, when I’m before God, if the fractured glass will finally fall to the ground to be swept away by His grace and love and I will finally be the full, complete, whole person He designed me to be. I like that thought. It makes the fractures seem less of an iconvenience and more of a part of a beautiful testimony of God’s work in my life. Fractured faith isn’t failure. It’s growth.

So I’ll embrace my fractured faith as I lean into learning more and letting God continue to change me. The process won’t stop until I’m dead so I might as well lean into it instead of whine to myself that I “should” have all this down by now. How about you? Have you sometimes felt inadequate? That God is breaking your long-held beliefs or showing you new things about Himself you didn’t know before? Or perhaps sin you’ve been blind to? Growing pains come with the fractured faith but I’m glad Jesus keeps holding it all together to refract His glory through my imperfect reflection of Him to a hurting world. I hope you’ll do the same.

Author Confessions: God and Me and a Cup of Tea

Jun22
Reading Time: 5 minutes

Author Confessions: God and Me and a Cup of Tea

I might have written about this before and if I’ve told you this story, please give me grace because it is one of my favorite stories to tell of God’s goodness, even though it was relatively small in comparison to what might have been considered “bigger” needs for God to meet. I told it to someone the other day and it hit me in a new way and I am overwhelmed with gratitude that God shows up in unexpected ways like this.

Years ago, in a verbally abusive marriage and living in a tiny, moldy, three bedroom mobile home, raising raising three little kids and not working outside my home anymore, I struggled to try to honor my then-husband as “head” of our household. He wasn’t walking with God and refused any attempts at accountability from men at church.

Every morning I made myself a spiced chai latte from a powder that I ordered online. I saved money by buying it in bulk (these were the days before amazon!). That cup of tea was part of my time with God every morning, early in the kitchen before the kids (or husband) were awake. It enabled me to have peace and quiet and watch the sunrise from the living room window that faced east.

I was running low, so I ordered the chai. When it was delivered it was left outside our mobile home. Husband picked it up and brought it in to the kitchen and in his ever not-so-charming-abusive tone asked, “What is this?”

I had ordered chai many times before and the box clearly stated where it was from and what it contained.

“It’s chai. I was running low and ordered some.”

“You can’t have this. It has suger and that’s not good for you,” he said as he grabbed the box and carried it down the hall and placed it on the dryer in the bathroom before leaving the mobile home.

I shook my head and prayed. “God I know the chai is fine for me to have, but I will submit to my husband even if I don’t agree with him. I don’t need chai to meet with you. If YOU decide that having a cup of chai in the morning is fine, you will  make him bring that box in here and open it up and refill the container.”

Later, I informed the “head” our home that I did not appreciate being spoken to like he had.

Every morning after that, I came to the kitchen and made my chai. The last day I finished what remained in the container. I washed it out and set it aside to dry and told God again that I was grateful for the chai but I would honor Him. If it was OK for me to have that treat every morning, He knew how to tell me so.

My husband never knew about that prayer. I’ve never told him this story.

That Friday, he came storming in into the mobile home and went to the kitchen and opened the door where we kept the chai container. He slammed it shut asked, “Where’s the chai?”

I pointed to the empty container and said, “I drank the last of it this morning. It’s all gone.”

“Didn’t you buy more?” Funny question, right? He was serious! He’d completely forgotten his announcement only a few days before.

“Yes, I did.”

“Well, where is it?”

“You placed the box on the dryer.”

He stormed down the hallway, grabbed the box, opened it up and took out a bag of chai. He cut open the bag and poured it into the container and then went to make himself a cup of tea.

He didn’t usually drink chai and it has minimal caffeine. He got his chai in a mug and headed back out to his office.

I smiled to myself and said, “God, You are truly awesome. Thank You.”

Now, why is this story so important to me? Did I NEED chai? Not at all. It is a luxery, a treat. I’ve gone a year without it when I went totally without sugar. I now have chai without the powder, and am fully satisfied.

It matters for these reasons, but the last one hit me fresh because I had totally missed then what God really did in that moment.

  • First – I share this because God does meet our needs, and this was definitely a want. But He delights in giving good things to His children.
  • Secondly – God can even use people who are not following Him to show His glory. Even if in that moment it was only to me.
  • Third, and the point I originally missed when I’ve told that story, was this: God did meet a very real NEED in my life at that moment. Not for chai. He showed me that in my struggles and pain. I was not alone. He saw me. Giving me a cup of chai was a small thing. Back then I rejoiced that God acted on my behalf, in spite of my husband’s declaration and forbidding me to have chai and missed this.

What brings me to tears is that He met the need I didn’t express. He knew me. He respected my obediance to an unjust order by an abusive person. He protected me. He provided a want, but what I needed more than anything, and maybe I never fully realized it as much as I do now, almost 15-20 years later, was that He was always there and saw me, and loved me.

I hate asking for prayer requests. We often ask for healing, or help, or for our finances, or for us right now issues with building a house as a deadline looms for us to move out of our apartment. In reality, what we really need, or maybe it’s just me, is more of Jesus. To have that kind of faith that boldly asks for minor things.

All these years later – it’s been probably thirty years since I started my chai-love combined with my time with God- it is still God and me and a cup of tea every morning. And that cup, even though the mug is different as they seem to break after a time,  is something I hope I never take for granted. He sees me. He sees you. And He delights in meeting more than our needs when we submit our lives to Him. I have so many more stories but this one is a favorite and I’m glad He keeps revealing more of who He is to me, every time I share it. What an amazing God we serve!

God has since given me a new husband (met him 8 years ago!) who will go out of his way to get me a cup of chai when we travel. He sees it as a way to show he cares. He sees me too. I am blessed.

Do you have any stories like this? I would love to hear them!

 

 

Author Confessions: Can People Change? Part III

Jun15
Reading Time: 3 minutes

Author Confessions: Can People Change? Part III

If you haven’t read parts I and II you might want to read them before continuing here.

Even if people don’t change,  we are commanded to forgive those who sin against us, whether they are unrepentant or not, does not mean that reconciliation is in order. I can forgive a woman from a church where I had been employed, who years ago verbally abused me to the degree that I returned to my apartment and sat curled up on the floor as if I’d been hit, and bawled my eyes out. Nothing she said was true and when I tried one more time to reconcile, I realized the unsolvable conundrum she had for me to prove I was repentant for the sins she stated I had done. The reality is, I was being gaslit. Had I made mistakes in our relationship? Yes. Had I worked through those things. Absolutely. It tooks months, lots of counseling, journalling, tears and seeking God. Because I was in a ministry position, I couldn’t share that pain with anyone else. When she was confronted by church leadership, she accused them and our pastor of horrible things as well. Her family left our church and I grieved. I grieved for unconfessed sin. I grieved that the gifts God had given her were taken from our church. And I grieved the future where another church, or person in leadership, would be faced with similar behaviors.

When I moved on in life, the lessons I learned reaped benefits in the ministries I engaged in. I was changed. Leadership in a church can be difficult and people will find fault. I developed skills to help me deal with that but it was still painful, especially when there were lies someone said about me. Over time, in every situation, I was vindicated. God proved me to be faithful and true as I followed Him. Notice I didn’t say perfect. I’m a long way from that.

Can people change? I would hope that woman had. I still bear emotional scars and would be hesitatant to trust someone like that again. I won’t name names, but it seems that every woman I’ve met with her first name have been unsafe for me. I gave them all a chance and every one proved to be similar! I’m learning to trust the Holy Spirit within me. If someone is making me feel uneasy, before, during, or after time spent with them, I have learned to stop questioning why and avoid those people. Can those people change? I would hope so. I don’t believe God has called me to be the means by which He does it, since He tells me to stay away.

It takes a long time to develop that and I want to give people the benefit of the doubt. I want to be liked. Don’t we all? But I can’t sacrifice myself and expose myself to abuse if the Spirit leads me away from someone.

Life is hard. It is filled with challenges that are painful. If we allow God to work, He can mold us more and more into the character of His Son, Jesus. It is our choice. He doesn’t force it on us.

Can people change? Maybe.  Perhaps it would be better to pray, “God, will you change me?”