We're cleansed from the Stains of Sin & freed from the Chains of Sin!"
Archive for the Trust Category
You would think that growing up in the United States this concept wouldn't be such an issue for me to grasp. Of course, growing up as a kid in the U.S., and in the Bible Belt South no less, I took a certain aspect of freedom for granted. Serving in the Air Force took care of most of that entitlement mentality. Actually, serving one short deployment in the Middle East took care of that though not at the time. But even still, I did not understand freedom because I didn't know what it was like to not be free. Or so I thought. I was never a slave so I couldn't understand what it's like to be a slave. I was never in jail so I couldn't understand what it's like to be a prisoner. I am predominantly European Caucasian so I couldn't relate to ethnic oppression. And I grew up as a Christian in the U.S. in the Bible Belt in the 70's and 80's where being a church-going Christian was just normative and therefore, couldn't relate to religious oppression. What I finally came to realize (thanks to some outside intervention) was that I was a slave to alcohol and a prisoner of my past. I was oppressed by a domineering father and a rigid religion as a child. I became so weighted down with guilt and shame as a child, and the only thing that was alleviating that pain was alcohol. I didn't feel the pain of not being good enough while I was drunk. I felt confident. I felt free. The freedom I thought I had while drunk was a lie. You are never free when you are spending all of your time and energy on trying to be "good enough" particularly when deep down you know you can never be perfect. Perfection as the standard will always leave you feeling inadequate. Eventually, you will realize the futility of trying and will throw your hands up in surrender because your life is unmanageable. There are 2 ways you can surrender. You can throw your hands up and say "Screw this!" or some variation of that thought, and proceed to do whatever you think is going to make you feel good. This is the path I took initially. Outwardly, it worked. I appeared to have everything together, but I was not working through my problems. I was just numbing and escaping. Therefore, life just kept becoming more unmanageable until it got to a point I couldn't cover it with a facade. The other way to surrender is to throw your hands up and say, "I can't do this anymore and I need help!" This is the point I eventually came to. My life had gotten so unmanageable that I was coming apart at the seams. It is taken a lot of therapy and a couple of 12 Step groups to sort through and work through my issues. But they couldn't really resolve my religion issues. I had God issues because of my Daddy issues. If I couldn't ever measure up to my dad's standards with my behavior, how could I ever hope to measure up to God's standard of absolute holy perfection? Plus since my dad had so many issues that he never addressed, I had contradictory information on what good behavior was. Because of his abuse, he abused, and I projected onto God's character that abuse was normal. And you know what abuse does to the abused? It makes them feel less than. Shamed. Not good enough. And it was rigid religion that allowed that abuse, because wives submit absolutely to their husbands, children cannot ever question their parents' behavior, and daddy's are the absolute boss and never wrong. This was God's way and so God must be like my daddy. Except He isn't. There wasn't really one event that opened my eyes. It was several things. Sessions with my therapist. Chats with my sponsor. Chats with friends. Blog posts. Books. Sermons. But one thing that stood out from a sermon, and I think it was one Pastor Jared preached, where he said, "Don't forget who you are, and don't forget whose you are." And it really started sinking in who I am in Jesus. What that really means. That God the Father's love for me is not contingent on my behavior. It never was. It's dependent on what Jesus did. I can quit trying to earn God's love because grace is given out of love. That's when I realized I was free. That's when I understood what freedom really is. Because that's when I finally understood what it means to rest in Christ; to "Be still and know that I am God." Jesus did all the work for me. I'm not ever going to be Mary Poppins, "perfect in every way." Freedom comes from knowing I don't have to be perfect because Jesus was perfect. As Pastor Benji said last Sunday in his sermon,
I never had a clear understanding of the Holy Spirit. I believed there is one, and I believed the doctrine of the Trinity of which the Holy Spirit is a member. But functionally, I believed in the Father, the Son, and personal effort. To be perfectly honest, I still can't grasp the concept of the Trinity. I don't understand the three in one. I choose to believe anyway. It would appear on the surface to be blind faith. But it's not, even though I can't point to anything visibly to "prove" it. In my personal experience it has all been internal. My daughter went to a birthday party a few years ago for one of her friends. I went and hung out with her friend's mom and another lady while the kids hung out together without moms hovering over them. At the time, we weren't going to church. But I saw something in Jamie's friend's mom when she talked about Jesus. There was such unabashed joy and gratitude that she got a little emotionally overwhelmed and had to sit down. I had never seen anything like that in person. I wanted that. I prayed for that. And nothing much happened -- for 6 years. It didn't seem like anything was happening. I went to church, I read my bible, I read Christian books, and I read Christian blogs. I looked at my theology and doctrine with "grown up" eyes challenging what I believed to make sure I really believed what I believed because I believed it was true according to scripture or because I was told it was true. Most of my beliefs remain intact, and what changed was all secondary and tertiary doctrine that have no bearing on the foundation of the Gospel. All those years, my faith was evolving, and growing. God would give me a little taste, and I would want more. I learned to be thankful and grateful for trials because He opened my eyes finally to the truth that we grow through trials, even though it is painful growth. The trials strip away our self-sufficiency, and teach us that we can trust God. I finally reached the point that I trust enough to stop taking my anti-depressant. Just like my childhood coping skills, it served it's purpose, but I need to let it go. I need to feel. I talked to my sponsor about it, and my therapist. I talked a lot more about it with my therapist than I cared to. I have a program now to help me deal with life on life's terms. I do not wish to continue numbing, even with a prescription. I have to feel my full range of emotions if I want to be emotional healthy. That thing I prayed for 6 years ago? About halfway through the second song this morning at church, I felt the tears start to well up as I had my hand raised and trying to belt out the song louder than Stacey as she led. The dam broke during the 3rd song and I had to get a Kleenex. The hubby looked at me and asked, "Are you crying?" I laughed and answered, "Yes. I'm off my meds." I was destroyed before the sermon even started, but as Pastor Nate ended the sermon with prayer, it hit me. God answered my prayer. For the first time today, I realized that I was responding emotionally with appropriate emotion. There was a lot of crying (a lot for me), but it was the right kind of tears each time they fell. It felt cleansing. Things like this are why I believe the Holy Spirit is the one who does the changing in us, and not our own efforts to change. The Spirit was given to us as followers of Jesus, children of God the Father to guide and comfort us. The Spirit took me on a path I never would have chosen to have my prayer answered. Left to my own, I would still be self-medicating and wondering why nothing was changing,
John 3:8 NIV The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.”You can't put God in a box. You can't neatly package him up. All you can really do is say like Job,
Job 42:2-3 NIV “I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted. You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’ Surely I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know."Let it flow.
I don't know if any other denomination holds confession like the Catholic church. A Google search could probably answer that, but it really doesn't matter. I know it is a sacrament for Catholics to go to confession and confess their sins to the priest. We Protestants don't do that because Jesus is our high priest and we can go straight and boldly to God the Father. Having grown up in a non-confessional environment, I had no concept whatsoever of the healing nature of telling my "junk" to another person.
"Admitted to God, to ourselves, and to another person the exact nature of our wrongs." - Step 5, page 59, Alcoholics AnonymousThat was a hard step for me. Granted Step 4 was hard enough writing all that crap down. But it was another matter to say it out loud to another person. Things that I had never ever EVER said out loud to ANYONE. Actually, there was only one thing that nobody else knew because I never told anyone. But now, both my sponsor and my therapist know about that. Since I've vomited all my secrets out (that I could remember up to that point), I don't feel such a need to keep things hidden. The saying, "You're only as sick as your secrets," is, at least for me, absolutely true. It was no wonder I turned to alcohol to numb. Of course, now I am dealing with the feelings from all that crap that I didn't deal with at the time, so I am still pretty sick. But I'm getting better as I learn that feeling the anger and the hurt feelings is actually what emotionally healthy people do. They don't stuff, suppress, and numb. They feel, work it out, let it go, and move on. I wouldn't dare suggest mandatory confession. For one thing, there is no way to enforce it that would even be remotely healthy. But I think within the context of a local church, confession to another person would be transforming because confession tears down facades, and confession frees us from darkness.
Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working. (James 5:16 ESV)We don't want to indiscriminately confess our junk because there are "tares among the wheat" inside and outside of church, and you need to be able to talk to someone you can trust is not going to harm you. You need someone who will pray with you and for you without judging you from self-righteousness, but yet will lovingly call you out when you need it. We all have blind spots. I think that is part of true confession to another person - being willing to have your blind spots pointed out to you, and admitting them for what they are. It won't feel good, but it's how we grow - by humbling ourselves.
I always thought I knew what faith was even though I couldn't explain it. Oh, I could quote scripture about it, but I just thought I understood it. That being said, I still don't completely understand it, and can no more explain it other than by telling you what it isn't. I played with the worship team at church a few weeks ago, and our only rehearsal as a group was Sunday morning before the first service. They were all easy songs to play, and I had played all but one before, so I felt fairly confident that I could play without any major screwups. That confidence did not keep me from losing my place in Cornerstone in every single service. Even though I did just fine in rehearsal. However, a couple weeks prior we had done a song called Relentless, and in one of the last choruses, there are 2 separate parts being sung. The first time we did it 2 weeks prior, I was one of the 2 vocalists to be singing the second part. We hadn't had a rehearsal before that Sunday either, and since I hadn't practiced it, I missed the cue every.single.time. This time I had it. One of the ladies pointed out during rehearsal that she could hear me and I had it down. I said, "I practiced that so hard last week!" And I did. I put more practice time into nailing the vocals on that one chorus than guitar and vocals combined on the other songs. This led to a discussion about faith, and how faith isn't faith until it's put in action. You have to work it. And that's when I said, "It works if you work it." I first heard that phrase in Al-Anon in reference to the Al-Anon program. Which is nearly identical to the AA program from which it was derived. It was about a year and a half ago that I stepped into Al-Anon, and I can say with absolute certainty, I didn't work the Al-Anon program. I went to meetings. I read the literature. I didn't call anyone even though I had 2 phone lists. I was my own sponsor. So I stayed perpetually on the 1st step - "We admitted we were powerless over alcohol - that our lives had become unmanageable." I knew my life was unmanageable. There was no doubt about that. Powerless, though, I was not. Or so I thought. I remember right before I started going to Al-Anon, I went to an open AA meeting with my husband. After the meeting he asked me what I thought and I said, "That is what church should be like. That is living out James 5:16."
James 5:16 English Standard Version (ESV) Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.I am convinced that is the only way we can bear one another's burdens.
Galatians 6:2 English Standard Version (ESV) Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.This is the essence of love. And it was love that got and kept me sober. A group of drunks who loved me until I could love myself. Strangers who walked with me one day at a time encouraging me to keep coming back. The woman I picked out to be my sponsor that I didn't have the nerve to actually ask - who reached out to me and helped me pluck up the courage I had sat on for 2 weeks. God doing for me what I could not do for myself. But I still had to work at it. I had to go to meetings. I had to read my literature. I had to call my sponsor - especially when I didn't want to. I had to listen to her tell me what I didn't want to hear and do what she suggested whether I wanted to or not. Sometimes she pissed me off. But I followed her. I followed her because she had already been down this road and knew the way. I followed her because God told me he had been sending people to help me when I cried out to him asking why he hadn't helped me, and therefore I chose to trust that he put her in my life. I work the program, and it works even though I don't work it perfectly.
Ephesians 2:8-10 English Standard Version (ESV) For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works,which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.Faith isn't something we manufacture ourselves. It's not a bargaining means to get God to grant our wishes. It is given to us to do what God would have us do whether his will is for us to act or be still. He gives us faith for His purpose and His glory. That is why it works if you work it. Because it's not about you.
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.
So there I was right, sitting at my desk at work and this cloud of despair descended on me from out of nowhere. Like I needed to just sit and meltdown with the ugly cry. And in my head I heard Data saying, "I no longer wish to have these emotions!" But, alas, I am not Data and can't just be deactivated nor can I just turn off my emotion chip. I have to deal with them. I told a friend recently that I have the emotional maturity of a 4 year old. It's probably more like a 7 year old. It seems like when I think back that was the age when I began stuffing and avoiding "successfully." It is also about the age I starting having panic attacks. I broke my leg just before I turned 7. There may be some correlation. Hmm. But I am digressing. Bottom line is I have reached the point where my old coping skills don't work, and I can't just numb away the pain. When it comes, I have to feel it, and it will pass. Just like when I'm on top of the world happy, it will pass. When I'm scared, it will pass. When I'm all blah, it will pass. "To everything there is a season." There was a point last summer in the midst of the mess I came home to when I was just starting to go to Al-Anon where I was praying, and I asked God why he wasn't helping me with all the crap I was going through. He said, "I've been sending other people to help you." That stung. And it's hard to go to and accept help when you've spent so many years hanging on for dear life to your own self-sufficiency. Even when it hasn't ever worked. It's irrational and insane doing the same thing(s) over and over expecting different results, but there is an illusion of comfort in the familiar. I wanted to keep doing things myself even though it was slowly killing me emotionally and physically. God was consistently answering my prayers, but not how I wanted Him to. I hinted about a month ago that I have to completely change the way I think. Well, maybe that was more than a hint. But anyway, change is hard. Feeling is hard. But at least I am not going through it alone. Not that I ever really was alone, but it's nice to finally take the walls down and trust people. Because if I am going to trust God completely, I'm going to have to trust him to give me people that I can trust.
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)
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.
I had kind of a hard time going to sleep last night. I didn't really have any one thing weighing heavy on my mind keeping me awake, but I just had an overall sense of restlessness. It may just have been a result of getting massively glutened over the weekend. I refuse to accept that it might have been the pumpkin spice and rather choose to place the blame solely on the spiced rum. I've been drinking pumpkin spice lattes for the past two years after going gluten free with no effect. This was the first time in the last two years since going gluten free that I drank spiced rum. But I digress. Like I said, I had trouble falling asleep. So I took the opportunity to just spend the sleepless time in prayer. During the course of this I came to the point of really confessing how much I have let fear rule my life since, well, since I can remember. This is a HUGE obstacle. I have know it for a while, at least for the last 3-5 years. But denial ain't just a river in Egypt. ;) So there I lay admitting and confessing all the fear, and the continued fear of taking that next step of surrender. So, yeah, I would also rather blame it all on the glutening than admit/accept that I have to stop acting/not acting out of fear. I just don't really know what that's going to mean. What I mean by that is it is a great unknown to me which prevents me from formulating plans/strategies/coping mechanisms. As if I can really rely on my old coping mechanisms any more anyway. They served their purpose for a single purpose, and have generally miserably failed outside of that one purpose. But the one purpose it served spilled out into and onto every single relationship I've had whether family or friends or co-workers or total strangers. That is deliberately vague. For now.