Acts 17:11 NIV " Now the Berean Jews were of more noble character than those in Thessalonica, for they received the message with great eagerness and examined the Scriptures every day to see if what Paul said was true."This was instilled in me more deeply than Missionary Baptist doctrine. Daddy learned what other denominations believed and taught me that as well even going to far as to teach me there was no doctrinal difference between Missionary Baptists and Southern Baptists. He made sure that I knew salvation was in Jesus and not in a particular church. That was a priceless gift. When I started kindergarten, Daddy sat me down one day and had what I thought at the time was a weird talk. He talked to be about black people. Up to this point, I really hadn't been around many black people because church and family were lily white. I don't have any preschool memory of black people who weren't on TV. He made it a point to explain to me that there was no difference between us and black people except for skin pigmentation and that didn't matter. They had the same hearts and minds and I was never ever to call a black person "nigger" because it was hurtful. When I was older the conversation made sense, and it's another thing I am grateful for because even though I wasn't able to completely escape Southern culture race issues, that one conversation always came back to me to remind me that we are all human and I need to respect and love other people no matter our outside differences. It's what's inside that matters. Daddy was a very smart man who could do just about anything. He was electrician, plumber, auto mechanic, small engine mechanic, gardener, and carpenter. He was also a fantastic cook who made the best apple and coconut cream pies I've ever eaten. He taught me much of that though mostly by watching and listening. But I do remember him taking the time to teach me how to do simple auto maintenance like checking and adding fluid and changing a tire. He is why I know my way around a breaker or fuse box. Throughout my childhood he did a lot of electrical, plumbing, and carpenter work for his sisters, widows in our community, and other family and friends. He taught by example to help others. And much of those skills he taught me explicitly were done before he went to prison I think because he saw I had the desire and the capacity to do minor maintenance and repairs that my mom lacked. She could cook and clean, and even do some gardening, but because she worked full time, she didn't have time to do everything that needed to be done and had no inclination towards mechanical stuff. He ensured we weren't left hanging, utterly dependent on other people for little things. I remember when I played softball, Daddy would practice with me. I hated it most of the time because he and Mom both concentrated on my weakest area of catching which was grounders that I had to run for. Haha. He only missed one of my softball games. He didn't miss any basketball game I played. He was there for every play and concert. When I was in the hospital he was there when my mom needed to go home and rest and a lot of the time when she was there too. He made me stay in bed when I was sick and made me drink lots of water and made my favorite foods so that I would actually eat. He helped me with homework and would play games with me. He even taught me how to play poker. Thankfully I didn't get inherit his ability to count cards and don't like losing money so as not to have a gambling problem. ;-) He was overprotective in a lot of ways and tended to over and under react, but I understand now that it was fear that caused it. He didn't necessarily love me in the ways I wanted, but he did love me and I can look back and see that now. He made many mistakes, but he made those because he had his own sickness and demons to contend with. He couldn't be a perfect dad because he was human. But he did love me and he did try the best he could to raise me to put my faith in God and to grow up to be a responsible adult rather than a perpetual impulsive child. For that I can be grateful and honor him with love and respect.
Archive for the Faith Category
Perspective has a way of changing your attitude. Being the control freak that I am, my perspective has always been self-centered. My personal comfort took priority in how I looked at the world and situations. When things didn't (or don't) go the way I think they should, I end up on the pity pot only seeing the bad and never the good. This has been most evident with my relationship with my dad. Yes the verbal abuse did a lot of damage. Yes, the lack of affirmation negatively affected me psychologically which in turn affected every relationship I've ever had with anyone including God. This was understandable and even excusable when I was a child. I didn't have the capacity as a child to do anything more than develop ways to cope that allowed me to emotionally survive. Those coping skills long outlived their usefulness. Since my mom worked outside the home when I was a child, I spent a lot of time with my dad. It was practically 24x7 until I started school so I am naturally like him in many ways. My mom did her best to counter many of the negative traits I picked either by imitation or genetics, but in ways that did not teach me to disrespect either of them. I am grateful for that now. Now I can see him as a father who did the best he could amidst his own character defects. And he tried to raise me to be respectful of others and independent and grounded in faith in God. I just finished reading Barnabas Piper's book The Pastor's Kid. I'm a deacon's kid, but much of what Barnabas wrote mirrored my own DK experience. I found much healing through his experience as a PK. I can now look my on my dad with a different perspective not only because of what Barnabas wrote of his experience, but also through working through my own issues and character defects. Daddy taught small groups off and on at church up until I was 15. Throughout those years I saw him do a lot of study in preparation for teaching. He didn't do it silently and would discuss it with my mom. It one pretty much one sided, but he was teaching as he was preparing to teach. I reaped the benefits of his preparation in that I was given a strong foundation for my own faith. Both he and my mom always encouraged me to study scripture for myself and not just blindly believe everything I heard either from the pulpit or from the classes I was in.
After I got home last night - and ate because I was hangry - Chad came out on the porch to talk with me. It was a nice talk even though I had to tell him "No, we can't afford that," to which he didn't whine or beg, but just accepted with an "Okay." I think we might both be growing up. haha :) So anyway, I said, "Oh, hey, did I tell you I am getting rebaptized Sunday?" His response was great. "Did your first one expire?" The delivery made it funny. And I gave him a serious answer. I was originally baptized when I was 14, and it was a valid believer's baptism by immersion. So why do it again? I mean, really, I've never thought I needed another one. Truth be told, I still don't think I need another one because my original was valid. However, when I did my 3rd step prayer, it amounted to a complete rededication. So partially because of that and partially because I have a much better understanding of the significance of baptism, it's more to me of a complete ownership of my faith as mine rather than somewhat of my parent's faith as it was when I was a kid. So Sunday afternoon after the 1pm service at newhopeSanford, I'm taking the plunge...again.
I really should have sat down and written last night when I had things to say. Or at least made a note of what I wanted to write about like I suggested to Petra. Haha! But in my defense, I was sick as a dog from the flight back from Arkansas. But Enterprise hooked me up with a sweet rental car: I almost didn't make that trip. I really didn't want to. I didn't want to face my mom's health issues because avoidance is my default action (or inaction as it were) when I can't practice full on denial. But I plucked up the courage to do it anyway. Oh my word. Her short term memory is completely gone. She had a stroke while she was in the hospital recovering from pneumonia (and she has COPD), and while the memory issues could be attributed to Alzheimer's, her inability to say the right words is not something she had prior. It was hard. Hard to listen to and watch her struggle to get out what she wanted to say, and hard to figure out what she meant. But she gets around fine, and I wore her out! Because that's how I roll. ;) She's in the nursing home for rehabilitation, and they let me check her out and run her around. I took her to the Veteran's Walk of Flags by the hospital first. We did not walk the whole thing. But my cousin Sharon was interviewed later that day while she was there: Flags Flying for Veterans In Morrilton Today It is such a beautiful and humbling display, and I feel honored that I now have a flag among so many others. I am so very grateful to Sharon for making sure all the Eoff family veterans got flags. Then we went out to the Bishop family reunion and I didn't take a single picture of any of my family. :( I did take one down at the creek: Because the reunion isn't just complete without a walk down to the creek. It was the thing to do when I was a kid, and it still is at 44. Not that I got off the bridge because the possibility of falling and getting wet doesn't appeal to me anymore. Mainly because I didn't want my phone ruined. haha! But I had a great time, and didn't get glutened. Mom seemed to know everybody and that was great! I had a good talk with my sister-in-law even if it was short and kept semi on the down low given what I shared with her. And throughout the weekend I got to have really good visits with family and a couple old friends and my mom's neighbor. And then after I dropped Mom off Saturday night and left the nursing home, I drove around town and bawled. Now, I don't like to fly, and have been terrified of flying since 1999. So as I drove up to RDU to leave, I thought I would try a little something different than I normally do. See, normally the DragonLady doesn't get on a plane sober. Granted, last summer I flew sober, but I was a wreck the whole time. This time, drinking wasn't an option I was willing to entertain so I prayed and asked God to remove my fear of flying. You know, it worked. I was not at all scared coming or going. Even with the turbulence and thunderstorms around Charlotte. And no, I didn't ask God to give me a good rental car. That was pure bonus. hahaha!
There is a story behind that picture. I was scheduled to play at church this past Sunday, and there were several emails throughout the week regarding the song lineup. The first had to do with one particular song (video below) that only really had 3 instrumental parts: drums, bass, and keyboard. Bradford said that I would be playing keyboard. I laughed at that part of the email. He added not to worry that the keyboards would be tracked, and I just had to look like I was playing. Which made me laugh more because if I could fake playing a trumpet in college, I could definitely fake play keyboards. After listening to the song I thought that if I still had a keyboard and the time to practice (and the sheet music), I could have played it for real. But people thought I was really playing. Those who mentioned to me how cool it was that I play keyboards too got to hear the truth that I was keysyncing (like lipsyncing). And that was the only song I didn't screw up. :cheesy: And I was glad to do it because otherwise I would have only been doing vocals, and I couldn't do the clapping right. Plus clapping hurts my hands. Regardless, it gave me something to do with my hands. Before rehearsal last Thursday as Bradford led us in a devotional, he summed up Pastor's Nate's sermon from the previous Sunday (which I missed).
Just because God is silent does not mean He isn't active.My experience has been that whenever I am going through a hard trial or a period of depression, God is not only silent, but He seems absent. I feel like I am completely alone and overwhelmed. Once it passes, I can then see that God was there the whole time working while I was wallowing in fear and/or self-pity. I'm starting to see, or hear, that He isn't always silent in the pit. I usually have ministry hangover the day after I play at church. Yesterday was no exception, and life compounded it. I felt it when I (finally) got out of bed, and I started praying while I showered. My shower is my "prayer closet" because generally speaking, I can be alone without interruption. This is also why I named my shower "the confessional." So I was praying and as it progressed, I began praying about my self-will. I don't remember what I asked, but I remember hearing the answer. I have already been set free. Jesus is stronger than my self-will. I have a hard time remembering that. Partially because of self-will. Partially because of bad theology. But hearing it helped. I immediately felt peace. And then life reared its head again, and the peace was gone. But over and over and over all day, I went back to my prayer time and reminded myself of what God spoke to me, and it got me through. Pastor Benji said something during his sermon Sunday morning that really made an impression on me.
If I didn't already know what the Bible has to say about my self-will, I don't think I would have heard God's voice as I did.
The way you know the will of God is to know the Word of God. @benjikelley— Martha Nemec (@dragonlady38) May 4, 2014
But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you. (John 14:26 ESV)But additionally, I don't think I would have heard it if I hadn't been willing to hear something that might not be what I want to hear. Nor do I think I would have heard it if I wasn't willing to give up my self-will. And I wouldn't be willing to give up my self-will if living according to my will worked.
Last week was kind of a rough week. By rough I mean busy. And as an aside, if you ever get desperate for entertainment, go spend a day in traffic court. Oh, my word. The only thing I will relay though, is James' case is now over. The court was merciful with the DWI to the extent the judge could be, and for the next year, I am the only licensed driver in my household. What does that have to do with anything? More than one would think. The kids were bombarding me Sunday with their needs (aka wants), and I finally had to say, "Look. I know I am currently the only responsible person in our household. I can't do everything for everybody. I can only do so much." Given the awkward silence, I think maybe they got it, and they quit making demands. Well, until we got to Walmart anyway. ;)
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. (2 Corinthians 1:3-5, ESV)I was profoundly moved last year when I attended an AA meeting. It more exemplified James 5:16 than I've ever seen in church. That was the final push I needed to finally start attending Al-Anon. It's in Al-Anon where I see 2 Corinthians 1:3-5 in action. Not that I haven't or don't see it in church. I've just been more able to see it in targeted manner in Al-Anon. Because in many ways that's what we do because while our individual circumstances are different, we can all understand what each other are going through. Those who have been in the program for a long time are a huge help to us newbies just by understanding and listening. Over the post few years, I have slowly started first facing and then working through my childhood issues which are "Daddy issues." I didn't really realize to what extent I had been affected and why until I read Age of Opportunity by Paul David Tripp. I was able to identify the root of a lot of my issues and some of the root causes. And it is still on-going as I try to come to terms with them while also working through the issues of being married to an alcoholic and drug addict. My life has been hard from an emotional standpoint, and it could have been so much worse. I have bounced back and forth between avoidance, suppression, and acting out. I've dealt with anxiety and depression for almost as long as I can remember. Sometimes all seems right in the world, and I feel great. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed that I want to run away and hide. Sometimes the pain and the darkness are so oppressive that I can barely function. Often there is nothing going on around me to match how I am feeling. This makes me wonder how much of my emotional turmoil is just delayed response. I have done my share of questioning with why me. Why did that happen to me? Why do these things keep happening? But sometimes, I can look at myself and wonder why did God choose to redeem me. I know the choices I have made that I can't blame on abuse. I know the things I've done that I can't even attribute to peer pressure. I've been both the victim and the bully. God knows those things too. Jesus died because of those things. Yet He called me and redeemed me. And so I have a completely different view of the suffering I have and do endure that I did not bring on myself, as well as what I did. I can empathize. I think empathy makes it much easier to show compassion. Therefore, I am able to see the crap I have had to deal with that I didn't cause, while it sucked big time, has a greater purpose. And the crap I've had to deal with that was self-inflicted can also have a purpose for good.
Put on then, as God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive. And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him. (Colossians 3:12-17, ESV)And in all of the mess and pain and chaos, I can be thankful because it has forced me to rely on God instead of trying to push through on my own strength. One of the sayings in Al-Anon is "Let go and let God." This is what I am learning much more slowly than I would like. But even in my deepest despair, I still can have hope. Not "I hope things get better," because that is a really a wish. I have hope knowing that there will be a day when God Himself will wipe the tears from my eyes. And with the empathy and compassion I am being taught through my pain, I can pass this hope on to others.
I didn't quote Charlie Brown exactly. But it's close enough. This post will also be a little all over the place. Possibly. I got a case of the ass last night. Ok, it's not really exclusive to last night as I usually have a case of the ass over something, but a lot of the time I can keep it in check so that once I calm down I realize it really isn't a big deal in the grand scheme of things. Last night I didn't keep my tongue in check, or rather I let my fingers fly since I was commenting on a comment on a blog post I've been following. I thought I had been mercifully spared from my rash verbal vomit since my comment didn't show up. I had already commented without using my DragonLady pseudonym, but comment #2 was with "DragonLady" making me think the comment went into the spam hole where it should have stayed. :sigh: But it didn't, and so if you care, here is the article: It's Not Us Against Them I have tried to stay out of the Duck Dynasty drama just like I stayed out of the Chick-Fil-A one. For the same reason, and because it all boils down to a bunch of posturing by both supporters and opposers of Dan Cathy and now Phil Robertson. So I will go ahead and lay my cards out on the table. I don't eat at Chick-Fil-A because of being gluten free and all I ever ate there was the breaded, deep-fried chicken on a bun that I can't eat any more. I could also mention that their "chicken" is likely of the same low quality as McDonald's. Oh, wait. I just did. I also have never watched Duck Dynasty nor do I plan to. Generally speaking, I don't watch TV period, but especially not "reality" TV. Which, by the way, is not real. I will occasionally watch Ice Road Truckers and the similar one with the truckers on the "most dangerous roads" whatever that show is. But I only watch those if my husband has them on and I have nothing better to do. I will also go ahead and state that yes, I believe homosexual activity (same-sex sex) is a sin, just as fornication, adultery, bestiality, and pornography are. Sexual sin is sexual sin before God who gave humans the good gift of sex to be used within the context of marriage between one man and one woman for life as he created it to be. Full disclosure, I am a former fornicator who for many years before and after marriage was addicted to various forms of pornography for the sole purpose of self-gratification. The self-gratification amounted to adultery of the heart. So I am no stranger to the bondage or consequences (which were thankfully pretty light) of sexual sin, and absolutely will not act towards others with judgement and/or condemnation who have or are committing sexual sin because I understand the desire. I have never had to deal with same sex attraction, nor with any sexual attraction to any animal. I do, however, have many gay friends, and several gay family members. I also have had at least one family member who was guilty of bestiality. Therefore, I can't sit back in my self-righteous ivory tower looking down on homosexuals as an abstract group. They are real people with real struggles who need a real Savior just like I do for the same reason, and not because of the specific way they sin, but because we all sin. This is what I was trying to explain to Chad the other night. The end of the discussion came when he asked if you could "pray away the gay." I told him if it were just that simple then his dad and I could just pray away the alcoholism and drug addiction. All that said, this isn't a post about homosexuality. Nor is it a post where I pledge my support for Mr. Cathy and Mr. Robinson. There is much more at stake in the Kingdom of God than the American right to free speech. I will give my opinion that the reason American Christians are so fired up about losing their voice and influence in the American/Western culture has less to do with standing firm for Christ and much more to do with fear of having to actually suffer for Christ. You know, the way Jesus promised us as Christians that we would suffer with Him if we really follow Him. Because our feel-good materialistic American culture that is the product of 20th century consumerism wants the good life now, and doesn't really want to give up anything in order to have everything in Christ. We want to have our cake and eat it too. I think it is all about comfort, and oh, how well do I know the futility of searching for comfort. Comfort is an idol for me almost as high up as my idol of pride. I've sought it in books, TV, food, tobacco, drugs, alcohol, sex, church, family, my parents (Mom specifically), friendships, my husband, my kids, running, biking, gaming, pets, blogs, social media. The list goes on and on and on. But none of those things or the myriad of other things bring lasting comfort. Lasting comfort is only found in Jesus. Now that is real easy for me to say, but way hard for me to believe. I know all the trite phrases. I know all the cliches. The Landmark Missionary Baptist deacon's daughter Reagan conservative has had all the head knowledge for as long as I can remember. It all seems to fall apart when the trials hit because I have trust issues because I have Daddy issues. So knowing and believing were not one and the same for me. Out of sync, if you will. There were a few times over the past year where I spent time in prayer confessing and repenting for not trusting the only One who can be trusted. Why didn't I trust? Because all of my little gods have always ultimately disappointed me by not becoming the lasting peace and comfort I crave. Pastor Nate preached about comfort in the light of the Christmas narrative. In the midst of the sermon when he went from Matthew 1 to 2 Corinthians 1:3-7 and explained how Jesus is our comfort because he has already experienced the suffering we do. He and He alone really does know how we feel. Ridicule, betrayal, rejection, death of loved ones, loneliness. But he never really was alone. Not even on the cross. And a light bulb came on for me.
For he has not despised or abhorred the affliction of the afflicted, and he has not hidden his face from him, but has heard, when he cried to him. (Psalm 22:24, ESV)Sunday night, before I could forget, I wrote down some notes on what I managed to piece together (so far) about how Jesus is my comforter.
When Jesus was on the cross quoting Psalm 22, he hadn't been forsaken by God the Father. The Father was still there, it just didn't feel like it. Just like when we are so overcome in our trials and cannot feel God's presence and wonder if he really is there. But He was there for Jesus and he is there for us because of Jesus. And Jesus really does know how we feel.There was a brief moment of peace, and the comfort remains. My life circumstances are still as they were, there are still issues unresolved, but I can rest knowing and believing they will one day be resolved, and the broken will be fixed. Even me. Unearned favor. Amazing grace. So what is Christmas all about? Christmas was the beginning of the end. Immanuel, God with us, the Creator came and lived among the created as one of us. Fully human and fully divine. Laying aside the riches and the power and the glory and honor that He rightfully owns and deserves to become the spotless sacrificial lamb of atonement. Born into poverty in a stable. His family having to flee to Egypt to protect him from being murdered by Herod as Herod slaughtered an untold number of innocent boys aged 2 and younger to protect his throne. Ultimately willingly submitting to a sham trial and torturous beating before a horrendous death by crucifixion under Roman authority to appease the religious Jews. Rising to life on the 3rd day showing that His sacrifice for our sins was accepted by the Father so that we who believe in Jesus by faith are granted grace and reconciled to God the Father though Jesus. It's not about our American rights or Western culture. It's not about sex or chicken or reality TV. It's not about whether people say "Merry Christmas" or "Happy Holidays." It's not about our temporal comfort. It's about a Savior come to redeem unworthy and rebellious children.
“For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life. 17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. (John 3:16-17, ESV)
Here's a little something I'm dragging out of the drafts hole. It was written over a span of about 5 months from Sep 2011 - Jan 2012.
I had this little running "joke" with our former pastor on Sunday mornings: Pastor: "How are you?" Me: "Self-righteous and bitter." Pastor: "Alrighty then." (or something to that effect) I always answered it in a joking kind of way, but really, I was/am dead serious. I think he knew it. The result of being self-righteous and bitter is being angry...often. Combine that with out of control (or out of sync) hormones (that's a story in itself, which my doc thinks is more likely linked to my diet and somewhat addressed here), and you have a volatile mix. I'm going off at the least little thing, nit-picking over insignificant things, and emotionally collapsing into tears either from sheer anger or guilt from getting so angry over something stupid. Did I mention I was never much of a cryer? But I digress. The self-righteousness and the bitterness have been there for years, but I never really noticed them for what they were. Generally speaking, I filed them away under a blanket of righteous indignation. After all, I was right to be angry because I was being wronged, or someone I loved was being wronged. The anger wouldn't be such an issue if it was just anger, albeit justified anger and not getting mad over something stupid. But, even if it is "justifiable" anger, it becomes an issue when it is something I'm not letting go of. I keep dwelling on issues when they pop up in my head. The longer I stew on them, the angrier I get, and the angrier I get the more I want to go off on a self-righteous rant letting the "offender" know just how ate up they are. I have finally realized that the things that piss me off the most are things I do myself, and more often than not involve pride. But at the heart of the matter, it boils down to a lack of forgiveness on my part. This lack of forgiveness is most blatantly on display towards my husband. Of all the people/situations I've stewed over and held grudges over, I have mostly held grudges against him, and not well held under control. But it is no more or no less venomous and vile. Sheer poison. It isn't as if he is blameless. Even he will tell people there is only one thing that I have ever adamantly put my foot down about. It's that one hot button trigger that holds the potential to split us up. I've threatened divorce (with every intention of backing it up), and I've wished all kinds of calamity on him from arrest to death. Yes, you read that right. I have wished he would die. That's cold-hearted right there. Completely unloving. I know that my response is every bit as wrong as what he does that prompts it. I can see it coming, and I pray for grace to "shut up and pray", and I quote scripture to myself and swear I will be quiet and let it go. But more often than not, I succumb to the voice that tells me I don't deserve be treated like that, lied to, messed with, etc, and it all goes downhill from there. But then a day or two later, it's over, we pick up and try again or just avoid any mention of what went down...pretending nothing ever happened and all is well. But it's not. The hurt is still there. The broken promises still there. The "I want what I want and I want it on my terms" is still there, even when we confess and apologize to each other afterward. It's a vicious cycle. I'm left with questions. Why can't I let go of the bitterness and resentment, and just forgive? Why do I insist on hanging on to it when I really don't want it and know that it just eats me up?Just to bring this up to date, my diet wasn't the issue with my out of control emotions. In many ways it was a result, and that still remains an issue. Also divorce has been taken off the table as an option. I will add that once that no longer became an option, things got worse. WAY worse. I also have answered those 2 questions, and well, I pretty much had answered it within the original post. Self-righteousness for one, but victimhood also. The solution is constant prayer. Constant preaching the gospel to myself. Constant reminder that the old me died with Jesus, and I've been set free from the bondage of self-gratification. Constant reminder that I am not God, that He sees what I can't, and that He is in control. Constant reminder that He never promised ease and comfort in this life. Constant reminder of 1 Corinthians love. Constant reminder that I live in a broken and fallen world, and I am still a work in progress. Constant reminder to be thankful always.
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you. (Philippians 4:4-9, ESV)
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. (Psalm 73:26, ESV)I don't think I took my "happy pill" yesterday. There was that moment where I looked at the bottle and could not remember if I had taken it or not, but decided against risking an OD. Not that I know if you can OD on 40mg of Celexa. I've missed doses before. This past Saturday as a matter of fact. There were no ill effects. Yesterday though. I bottomed out. I blame(d) the lack of medication because it was just out of the blue despair. Or so I thought. I did enough backtracking through the day to discover the trigger was a video I had watched. From there I was able to root out the discontentment and resentment that were in the pit I found myself in. It's a dark pit where the darkness is heavy and constricting. Prayers were said, tears were shed. Withdrawl happened. Not complete withdrawl, but alone time to sort the truth from the lies. I remember the first time God spoke "audibly" to me. It wasn't a loud booming voice like I imagine he spoke to Moses. Of course there is a story to it. I spent probably half my early childhood begging my parents for a swing set. Like this: Yes, I got the kids what I wanted when I was a kid. Anyway, I never got one, but my dad made me swing by buying some nylon (or plastic) rope, and hanging it from a tree limb. In hindsight, that was a way better swing. Anyway, that old rope swing gave me many many hours of fun. I would get it swinging as high as I could (which was way higher than a "little" metal swing set swing could go), and then jump out at the forward apex. I did that so much one weekend that my legs were so sore I could barely walk for 3 days. That was what I was doing: seeing just how high I could get the swing going before jumping out. As I was on the back swing just before that apex, I clearly heard a voice in my head telling me to stop. As I came back down, I put my feet down to stop. As soon as my feet were firm and stable on the ground, the rope broke. If I hadn't listened to that voice, I would have gotten hurt. Maybe seriously, maybe not. Regardless, I would have been hurt. But it was years before I would realize what that voice was. Or rather, whose. I don't remember how old I was, and I may or may not have still been using that swing while in junior high. ;) I don't think I ever told anyone about that except for my mom, though I might have told my dad when I told him the rope broke. But I don't remember actually telling him. I know I did because he was going to notice and then wonder why I didn't tell him. Plus, he was the only one who was going to fix it. lol But I think it was just within the last year that I told my mom the whole story of the incident. She recognized the voice for what it was. She may not remember what day it is, or people's names, or whether or not someone has died, but Alzheimer's has not yet touched her mind where theology and doctrine are concerned. I wanted to hear Him yesterday like that, and well, every time I find myself in the pit. I don't, but yet I don't really feel completely alone either. I mean, in the deepest, darkest, heaviest point I do, but once the load lifts, I can tell I wasn't alone. It's really hard to explain it. It's kind of like and aftertaste, only just a feeling. A closeness if you will. So, this was a bit ADD. Hence the title. That's how I roll.
I heard that a lot growing up. I'm pretty sure my dad was the one who would say it to me, but it could have been my mom or both of them. It was a warning when I would get either too excited and was starting to get too "rambunctious" or was working up to a meltdown over something. It was a long way of saying "calm down" or "chill out." Without that outside discipline, I would have been wide-open, full-throttle all the time. I just never really developed that as a self-discipline whether happy, sad, angry, or whatever so that out on my own, there was little restraint in acting out. Slowly, I have come to understand that acting out rather than taking a moment or so to "get a hold of myself" results in destructive behavior one way or another. No matter the circumstances I tend to speak or act without thinking about the effect on others. Or I sit and stew on it internalizing until I end up metaphorically vomiting on someone who probably didn't have anything to do with what I was stewing on. Or I just act out without knowing all the facts and/or giving the benefit of the doubt and then find out I was completely wrong about the whole situation. The past few weeks, there has been a recurrent theme popping up in sermons I'm listening to (both at my church, and podcasts), some of the blogs I read, and a book I'm currently reading. When the same thing keeps popping up, it's a good indication that I need to be paying close attention. And so I've been mulling all this over. Chewing on it, if you will. It makes perfect sense, but there was just still a little bit gnawing at me with it with regards to application. Sometimes I'm slow. For instance, years ago, I heard a sermon (I think it was more of a series of sermons) about a particular topic. I "got it," but I wholeheartedly disagreed, and therefore didn't believe it applied to me at all. Years later, I heard another sermon, and "got it" to the point of believing it applied to me. I even heard another teacher teach on it, fully agreeing, and later found myself chewing it all over when the light bulb went off. It was the same thing I had heard as a kid and completely rejected, and this time I really "got it." The whole concept. Better late than never right? ;) Anyway, I'm now seeing a twist to this latest thing that I hadn't expected. Since I have already put it out there once, I'll put it out there again. Because that's how I roll. My husband is an alcoholic/drug addict, and it is a sickness that spreads throughout the entire family. I struggle with it probably as much as he does because I think (wrongly) that it should be easier for him to give up the drugs and alcohol than it is. I fall into that thinking because I was relatively easily delivered from my porn addiction (which was just a portion of the problem). When my drinking gets to be "problem drinking," it's relatively easy for me to just not drink. I can carry around percocet with me 24x7 and not take it. But then I "conveniently" forget how hard it was to quit smoking and stay quit. And how many years I would still crave a cigarette. I still got an occasional craving. But since I forget what is difficult for me, I fall into that trap of thinking I know the solution. "Just go to AA! You know it works!" Here's the problem. He said once that at AA all they talk about is drinking, and that just makes him want to drink. That did not make a lick of sense to me despite the fact that I can spot a lit cigarette smouldering in the street as I am driving and crave so bad it takes every bit of willpower I have not to stop and buy a pack. I think it was Pastor Benji who was talking about what we concentrate on saying that for an alcoholic that's trying to quit drinking by saying "Don't drink! Don't drink!" over and over to themselves is always thinking about drinking. And so, eventually, they will drink again. And now I get it. Therefore, all the sermons, blogs, and the book are all saying the same thing. If you are always (or mostly) thinking about not committing a particular sin (or sins), your focus is on the wrong thing. It's not merely a battle of wills. It's like when Jesus was walking on the water toward the boat the disciples were in, and had Peter to walk out to him. Peter was walking on the water just fine as long as he was looking at Jesus. When he looked at the wind and the waves, he began to sink. He lost his focus on who was keeping him on top of the water in the storm. If any of us could overcome our sin by sheer willpower, we wouldn't need Jesus at any point in our lives. Bottom line, we never stop needing Jesus. So instead of looking at our temptations and trying to overcome it by white-knuckling through the weakness, we need to look to Jesus and reach out to him. We will be overcome with exhaustion eventually trying to do it ourselves, but He will never let us go. Rather than "getting a hold of myself," I need to let go of myself. Rather than spending my energy on trying not to do what I don't want to do, focus on doing what I know to be good, looking to Jesus to lead me where He wants me.