Yesterday marks the second official meeting with a group of women who have determined to walk through the book the Artist Way together.
I am blown away.
So beautiful and organic are our conversations that I’ve been touched deeper than by a paid counselor. The Holy Spirit is working. God’s truth about who He is making me is beginning to show up- the scratch ticket of my life, the one I actually win and it is exciting and scary.
I’m angry and sad too, grieving inside for my small child soul, who even at the age of six and seven weighed her strengths with those around her, one who compared herself with close siblings and peers. So ingrained is this practice that comparison defines me, limits me and lies, telling me I’m mediocre at best.
I’m average height, average weight, average skills and average job. I hate being average- but I feel it’s my destiny. Beauty is beyond my physical bounds, pretty will do. Being able to dance gracefully and seamlessly is a lost art I should have pursued as a child or young adolescent, now everything hurts so dancing is out of the picture- does a gym membership suffice? And, at least I’m paying the bills, isn’t that the point of working?
I think back to my childhood and I hear a censor in my head explaining vividly that my sisters sing stronger and clear than I, that the music I make is not beautiful and that my chance to move gracefully on the floors was lost because my desires to learn were not important. I hear a censor telling me that there is something wrong with me because I could not read in first grade, and so instead of reading I learned how to draw.
At age 7 in kindergarten when I shoved my homework assignments under other kids’ paperwork, so no one would see my answers, and cheated off other kids’ tests because I couldn’t read, I joined a coloring contest and lost. During that contest I had felt inspired, like I was creating something beautiful and worthwhile, I lost. Mediocre I told myself and at age seven, I silently vowed I would learn to draw beautifully- to be the best.
One of the deep seated problems I’m beginning to see between art and I, is that I have made it, above and beyond creativity, a competition. I’ve had a chance to dance ballet and Irish step dancing, I’ve had good output in visual art when I pursued it and I have a bachelor’s in drama, but none of that seem to be good enough to me. I’m not the best, I’m only mediocre.
It is ironic that I hate mediocrity, yet I’m willing to live a mediocre life instead of delve creatively into the work I believe God would like me to do. Fear of failing to impress other and not live up to the highest standards (my standards are likely much higher than anyone else’s for me) is tying me up to a mediocre life. I tell myself, why try if I know work will be sub-par? Literally, it is a vicious circle.
Yesterday, nearing the end of our group one of the women mentioned that it seems that, more than anything the creativity in each of us is being attacked by the enemy. She said that it does make sense since Satan, ultimately wanted to be the creator, to be God.
This hit me harder than I expected. At hearing this thought, I weep in anger and grief and also relief. I’m angry because it hurts to have pieces of my heart stolen. It hurts to know that there is an enemy who is trying to steal my desire to walk in who God has created me to be. I grieve because I know, living in the lies that the enemy has instilled in me has mangled many creative cells and lost valuable years in my creative life. And I feel relief, freedom, knowing that it is not just me that has failed, but that there is a greater force speaking lies to me. Knowing this, allows me to believe that if there is an evil force, there is its counterpart: the all good, all loving part that I can run to and find healing in- God.
So today…I’m weepy. Feeling tired (I didn’t have much rest last night) but good. I’m feeling a healthy death begin to take hold and I’m eager for more.
Friday, March 19
Wednesday, March 17
Kiss Me!
Yes, I'm Irish (recently I found out I'm in the fourth generation Scottish/Irish on my Dad's side) and almost forgot my green today.
But innovation stuck with me...
Safety Pin
Tape
Granola bar box
Printed four leaf clover
Glue
Here is a view of my handy work from the back.
From the front
Happiness is an Irish girl
Tuesday, March 9
Today
Today, I woke up at 5:50 am to my alarm. After turning off the radio Fuzz (my cat) jumped onto the bed and laid on me, his usual routine. He loves being snuggled up close to me early in the mornings and won’t budge until I do- it makes me want to stay under the warm covers. Oh Fuzz, you are so cute in the mornings!
At 6:05 I stumbled out into the living room, which is chaotic right now full of empty bookcases and books sprawled all over the room because of a recent trip to Ikea that resulted in bringing home four various sized Billy, black-brown bookcases (finally, our bookcases match!), and cleared a spot to do my morning stretches. I used the Ergoscue method and it has been a life saver for my sore neck, shoulders and right ankle (I’ve had trouble with my peroneal tendon). Basically, the stretches relax me as I lay on the floor for about 50 minutes allowing gravity do its thing, readjusting my alignment. Our friend Paul calls them the lazy man’s stretches. So, if you need to stretch in the early hours I suggest using the Ergoscue method because who wants to put forth effort in the morning? You might as well gently doze and stretch at the same time.
(By the way, we chose the Billy bookcases over the prettier ones for the combined goodness of height, storage room, versatility and cost, and in a month or two we’ll be purchasing doors. We mostly used gift cards for them- I’ll post pictures at some point, when we’re done getting things back in order)
Once ready for the day Matt took me to work with a quick stop for coffee and a scone. The morning half of work went by like me sliding down an icy driveway- fast.
This afternoon I need to finish up a bunch of paperwork, Matt will pick me up, we’ll get home, eat dinner, feed the cat, then I’ll drop him off at guys prayer group and jet over to the U-village for tea with Steph then home again where, perhaps I can tackle the laundry from the weekend (we had a GREAT weekend by the way), go work out and then fall into bed (yes, I know one shouldn’t workout before bed, but there is nowhere else to throw the exercise today, isn’t it good enough that I at least do it?).
Here is hoping that I keep quickly sliding down the icy workway.
At 6:05 I stumbled out into the living room, which is chaotic right now full of empty bookcases and books sprawled all over the room because of a recent trip to Ikea that resulted in bringing home four various sized Billy, black-brown bookcases (finally, our bookcases match!), and cleared a spot to do my morning stretches. I used the Ergoscue method and it has been a life saver for my sore neck, shoulders and right ankle (I’ve had trouble with my peroneal tendon). Basically, the stretches relax me as I lay on the floor for about 50 minutes allowing gravity do its thing, readjusting my alignment. Our friend Paul calls them the lazy man’s stretches. So, if you need to stretch in the early hours I suggest using the Ergoscue method because who wants to put forth effort in the morning? You might as well gently doze and stretch at the same time.
(By the way, we chose the Billy bookcases over the prettier ones for the combined goodness of height, storage room, versatility and cost, and in a month or two we’ll be purchasing doors. We mostly used gift cards for them- I’ll post pictures at some point, when we’re done getting things back in order)
Once ready for the day Matt took me to work with a quick stop for coffee and a scone. The morning half of work went by like me sliding down an icy driveway- fast.
This afternoon I need to finish up a bunch of paperwork, Matt will pick me up, we’ll get home, eat dinner, feed the cat, then I’ll drop him off at guys prayer group and jet over to the U-village for tea with Steph then home again where, perhaps I can tackle the laundry from the weekend (we had a GREAT weekend by the way), go work out and then fall into bed (yes, I know one shouldn’t workout before bed, but there is nowhere else to throw the exercise today, isn’t it good enough that I at least do it?).
Here is hoping that I keep quickly sliding down the icy workway.
Monday, March 8
Minute Monday, A Fray in the Eye
Today I'm writing about a menial strife maker in my life. That’s right, the aglet. This is not a vindictive nickname for my husband, my cat or one of my co-workers; this is a piece of plastic or metal at the end of a shoelace enabling the lace to run smoothly through the eyelet (the little holes in your shoe where the lace goes through).
It seems that my aglets will last only a few months before they pop off and create a frayed end resembling the mop tops of Fraggle Rock. While I do like Fraggle Rock, having one of them as the tip of my shoelace is illogical and frustrating. Imagine trying to shove Wembley, head first, through an eyelet, he wouldn’t like it and you would feel bad trying to grab at his hair.
So, to save the frayed Fraggle heads from being pinched and pulled through my eyelet, I've learned that a small piece of packing tape wound around the frayed lace end works as a useful, temporary solution until I can make it to store for another set of laces.
It seems that my aglets will last only a few months before they pop off and create a frayed end resembling the mop tops of Fraggle Rock. While I do like Fraggle Rock, having one of them as the tip of my shoelace is illogical and frustrating. Imagine trying to shove Wembley, head first, through an eyelet, he wouldn’t like it and you would feel bad trying to grab at his hair.
So, to save the frayed Fraggle heads from being pinched and pulled through my eyelet, I've learned that a small piece of packing tape wound around the frayed lace end works as a useful, temporary solution until I can make it to store for another set of laces.
Wednesday, March 3
A Short Whine
My desires are to live outside of someone asking me to follow their schedule and make them rich. Money is a frustrating thing- why money? I feel like I've been working my hands off trying to pay rent. No equity just living day to day in a place that has sky-high rent and mediocre jobs. I'm tired of it.
I know God says when we are good stewards of a little he gives more and Matt and I are really trying- we are.
Its just that I want to me a mom sooner than later, care for household dutes, spend some spare time when I have it painting or dancing or making great food for people. But this 8-5 plus 1/2 there and back is crap. I understand why working my 8-9 jobs i've gained weight, forgot what I like doing and hardly have time to clean.
I'm not saying I don't work for a good company (they are at the top of this list in everyway for their industry in this city)- I'm just saying that I feel a miles away from where I feel I would like to be.
So how do I get there....?
I know God says when we are good stewards of a little he gives more and Matt and I are really trying- we are.
Its just that I want to me a mom sooner than later, care for household dutes, spend some spare time when I have it painting or dancing or making great food for people. But this 8-5 plus 1/2 there and back is crap. I understand why working my 8-9 jobs i've gained weight, forgot what I like doing and hardly have time to clean.
I'm not saying I don't work for a good company (they are at the top of this list in everyway for their industry in this city)- I'm just saying that I feel a miles away from where I feel I would like to be.
So how do I get there....?
Tuesday, March 2
Lil' Update
It was a quite day at work despite being the main office staff. I hope that will be the general atmosphere for the rest of the week since I'm flying solo again, possibly tomorrow and definitely Thursday and Friday.
Meanwhile, I'm contemplative tonight and I need to buy groceries and then unwind.
Matt and I have a lot of choices we'll need to make in the next year and a lot of hard work involved with those choices. It's exciting and overwhelming.
Pray for us if you think about us.
Meanwhile, here are some pics.
The couch drawing....
Meanwhile, I'm contemplative tonight and I need to buy groceries and then unwind.
Matt and I have a lot of choices we'll need to make in the next year and a lot of hard work involved with those choices. It's exciting and overwhelming.
Pray for us if you think about us.
Meanwhile, here are some pics.
The couch drawing....
Progress (I actually have the three bottom cushions done already...so this is just a sneakpeak)
And a picture of Bombadil, aka, "The Fuzz"
Monday, March 1
Minute Monday
Where did “OrganizingLu” originate?
One of my nicknames for my twin is Lula. When we were little I was a neat-nick and she wasn’t concerned with being tidy so sharing a room was wrought with frustration. Then, in our adulthood (about 4-5 years ago) I had this idea of owning an organizing company and manufacturing company that made cool, functional organizating pieces. Essentially, a company that would help to “organize you”.
I mixed the idea of “Organize you” with “Lula” and came up with OrganizingLu or O Lu.
As of now, no further movement has been done regarding the company idea (since I have about 20 new business-life ideas each week) but the name stuck.
One of my nicknames for my twin is Lula. When we were little I was a neat-nick and she wasn’t concerned with being tidy so sharing a room was wrought with frustration. Then, in our adulthood (about 4-5 years ago) I had this idea of owning an organizing company and manufacturing company that made cool, functional organizating pieces. Essentially, a company that would help to “organize you”.
I mixed the idea of “Organize you” with “Lula” and came up with OrganizingLu or O Lu.
As of now, no further movement has been done regarding the company idea (since I have about 20 new business-life ideas each week) but the name stuck.
Thursday, February 25
A Long Ponder
I’m feeling rather melancholy today. Perhaps that is because I had to sit under a dentist drill for three hours on Wednesday and now I am going back today, or maybe its because tonight I really have to bunker down and clean my apartment, or perhaps it is something more deep- the effects of reading friend’s blogs and seeing people on face book- a place that encourages connection while at the same time encourages non-committal, pseudo community.
I’m thinking today of my friends from the past who I now rarely, if ever, have the opportunity to spend time with or hear from; because of distance or time or life. Specifically the friendships that shaped how I currently view friendship, God and the way interaction should be- mostly women and some men, who are dear to me and made a specific impact in my life from Spokane, TWU and Alaska. (Those that currently come to mind are: Jess and her family, Anne, Monica, Glenda, Joli, Shawna, Rob and his family, Brad, Amy, Angela, Sarah, Stacy, Karen, Heather, Tiff, Marina, Steve and his family, Bekah, Amos and Rebbecca).
I once had a student mentor at TWU say there are friends for a season, friends for a reason and friends for life. Placing friends in the season, reason and life boxes is not something I willing want to do, for fear of isolating later opportunities, but I do believe these wonderful people have been in my life for a reason.
I’ve struggle with separation from relationships. That, I think, is normal since our desire to be loved and love are eternally connected, and people are all a part of that. Yet, as I look back at my own friendship pattern, when friendships died, it was painful for me- perhaps more than the average person.
I think the fact that my biological father was absent for the majority of my life has had a tremendous impact on my ability to feel loved when in a relationship, but more specifically, when a relationship is strained or ending ( by the way I use relationship in a large context included boyfriend, best friend, good friend, comrade, etc) words like abandonment, unlovable, uninteresting, unworthy and unimportant, come to mind (The plan truth is that all those people in my past have other things that they are called to do by God in their lives, and the pain I experience, while some of them may have unintentionally hurt me, is primarily do to myself).
What I have been realizing over the last few years is that none of these adjectives (unimportant, unlovable, uninteresting, unworthy…etc) are me, or the way my friends may have viewed me but are the lens through which I see myself (am I getting too philosophical?). I’ve struggled with my own abilities and talents and feeling like all those things, that make me, could just as well not exist- and yes that sounds suicidal, but I’m not done.
Before I was born my mom was going to abort me- her life sucked and having another kid was not in her plan- but God revealed to her that she was indeed pregnant with twins and she decided to keep the babies because she couldn't’t bare to give up two lives. She told my sister and I this story when we were about 12 or 13 years old. Not only have I realized that my twin sister is the most amazing gift in my life, but when I become self depreciating and unloving toward myself, I realize that I’m a gift too. Without the other neither of us would exist. But even more, without God’s prompting, again neither of us would exist. God wanted me to exist. God must have a plan.
" 'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a hope and a future.' " (Jeremiah 29:11)
It is easy for me to say that and it seems like a simple concept. Yet wondering what I've been doing wrong is one of the foremost thoughts in my mind. I’m working what feels like a dead end job, and I’m usually frustrated at my living situation or my husband. My dreams for being creative, having a family and owning a home with a garden a dog and .75 of a cat (that's a joke) seem so far away.
I the problem, which as you read may be incredibly apparent to you, is that I have a problem trusting that God's plan for me is what it should be. I barely trust the talents and things he's given me I cast them aside, unused- fear drives my complacency. Meanwhile, I have trouble ultimately trusting God's plans for me. But where I am is where should be, right? Should I not make the most of it?
Instead of making the most of it I end up getting stuck on me and then I start sucking- at least internally. Sucking all the good God truths out and replacing them with nasty self-depreciating words ending in the Jessica isn't worth it land.
So why does thinking of friends long ago make me come back to I’m actually a gift that God loves kind of determination?
Well, I think I’m realizing that everyone has their demons (and I’m not saying cute little animal-golden-compass demon), I’m saying the evil thoughts that pierce our souls. Those thoughts and feelings that Satan (who is real and COMPLETELY evil) throws into our path which become barriers for us, when we focus on them, they keep us from trusting in God and his goodness and sovereignty. My friends throughout these last 29.5 years of my life have been sweet, those friends I listed made me feel like someone special and in turn I think of them, pray for them, sometimes yearn for the comraderie.
Yet we all have a story a place to be. My friends who are now living throughout the world, many with families are not responsible for how I see me. It isn't fair to hold on to each person because of my own fear or feeling of selfworth, just like it isn't good to hold onto a bunch of stuff, or eat food allt he time, or workout obsessively because you have an emotional hole and need something to make you feel good. My understanding of who I am, under the love and goodness of God, is how I should see me.
So, when I think of my friends, I've learned that they were gifts too, like my sister, in my life, perhaps for a reason, a season and some still, for life. God will determine that- I can rest my heart for them knowing they are being cared for by God and that my responsibility is first to love and know him.
Meanwhile, isn't it funny how I've often thought of myself as someone who is friendly or capable of great relationship, yet know my great friend, father and creator so little?
I’m thinking today of my friends from the past who I now rarely, if ever, have the opportunity to spend time with or hear from; because of distance or time or life. Specifically the friendships that shaped how I currently view friendship, God and the way interaction should be- mostly women and some men, who are dear to me and made a specific impact in my life from Spokane, TWU and Alaska. (Those that currently come to mind are: Jess and her family, Anne, Monica, Glenda, Joli, Shawna, Rob and his family, Brad, Amy, Angela, Sarah, Stacy, Karen, Heather, Tiff, Marina, Steve and his family, Bekah, Amos and Rebbecca).
I once had a student mentor at TWU say there are friends for a season, friends for a reason and friends for life. Placing friends in the season, reason and life boxes is not something I willing want to do, for fear of isolating later opportunities, but I do believe these wonderful people have been in my life for a reason.
I’ve struggle with separation from relationships. That, I think, is normal since our desire to be loved and love are eternally connected, and people are all a part of that. Yet, as I look back at my own friendship pattern, when friendships died, it was painful for me- perhaps more than the average person.
I think the fact that my biological father was absent for the majority of my life has had a tremendous impact on my ability to feel loved when in a relationship, but more specifically, when a relationship is strained or ending ( by the way I use relationship in a large context included boyfriend, best friend, good friend, comrade, etc) words like abandonment, unlovable, uninteresting, unworthy and unimportant, come to mind (The plan truth is that all those people in my past have other things that they are called to do by God in their lives, and the pain I experience, while some of them may have unintentionally hurt me, is primarily do to myself).
What I have been realizing over the last few years is that none of these adjectives (unimportant, unlovable, uninteresting, unworthy…etc) are me, or the way my friends may have viewed me but are the lens through which I see myself (am I getting too philosophical?). I’ve struggled with my own abilities and talents and feeling like all those things, that make me, could just as well not exist- and yes that sounds suicidal, but I’m not done.
Before I was born my mom was going to abort me- her life sucked and having another kid was not in her plan- but God revealed to her that she was indeed pregnant with twins and she decided to keep the babies because she couldn't’t bare to give up two lives. She told my sister and I this story when we were about 12 or 13 years old. Not only have I realized that my twin sister is the most amazing gift in my life, but when I become self depreciating and unloving toward myself, I realize that I’m a gift too. Without the other neither of us would exist. But even more, without God’s prompting, again neither of us would exist. God wanted me to exist. God must have a plan.
" 'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a hope and a future.' " (Jeremiah 29:11)
It is easy for me to say that and it seems like a simple concept. Yet wondering what I've been doing wrong is one of the foremost thoughts in my mind. I’m working what feels like a dead end job, and I’m usually frustrated at my living situation or my husband. My dreams for being creative, having a family and owning a home with a garden a dog and .75 of a cat (that's a joke) seem so far away.
I the problem, which as you read may be incredibly apparent to you, is that I have a problem trusting that God's plan for me is what it should be. I barely trust the talents and things he's given me I cast them aside, unused- fear drives my complacency. Meanwhile, I have trouble ultimately trusting God's plans for me. But where I am is where should be, right? Should I not make the most of it?
Instead of making the most of it I end up getting stuck on me and then I start sucking- at least internally. Sucking all the good God truths out and replacing them with nasty self-depreciating words ending in the Jessica isn't worth it land.
So why does thinking of friends long ago make me come back to I’m actually a gift that God loves kind of determination?
Well, I think I’m realizing that everyone has their demons (and I’m not saying cute little animal-golden-compass demon), I’m saying the evil thoughts that pierce our souls. Those thoughts and feelings that Satan (who is real and COMPLETELY evil) throws into our path which become barriers for us, when we focus on them, they keep us from trusting in God and his goodness and sovereignty. My friends throughout these last 29.5 years of my life have been sweet, those friends I listed made me feel like someone special and in turn I think of them, pray for them, sometimes yearn for the comraderie.
Yet we all have a story a place to be. My friends who are now living throughout the world, many with families are not responsible for how I see me. It isn't fair to hold on to each person because of my own fear or feeling of selfworth, just like it isn't good to hold onto a bunch of stuff, or eat food allt he time, or workout obsessively because you have an emotional hole and need something to make you feel good. My understanding of who I am, under the love and goodness of God, is how I should see me.
So, when I think of my friends, I've learned that they were gifts too, like my sister, in my life, perhaps for a reason, a season and some still, for life. God will determine that- I can rest my heart for them knowing they are being cared for by God and that my responsibility is first to love and know him.
Meanwhile, isn't it funny how I've often thought of myself as someone who is friendly or capable of great relationship, yet know my great friend, father and creator so little?
Monday, January 25
Monday, January 18
Colossians 3 is Dreamy
About a week ago I had a vivid dream. I was driving down the Bothell hwy, toward Kenmore, where the highway passes Ballinger way and begins turning around the north side of the Lake Washington. The landscape was dismal because, in my dream there had been a flood a few days prior and although the road was clear, much of the pavement was washed out, and only its outline could be seen. I remember it being bleak, and the sky was overcast, and I kept wondering why no one was following the general line of the road, but driving more haphazardly close to the edge of the lake. Instead of following the road I just followed everyone else, and I remember being really unhappy about it.
I must have been traveling to a dinner party because my dream flashed from the road to a meeting in someone’s home. Specifically, I was being introduced to three people, two of which I have no memories, but the other was a tall younger man, with long hair pulled into a ponytail and he had an earthy appearance. He looked straight at me and the first thing he said, “You don’t fear God,” to which I shocked and offended, replied, “Yes I do, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” In my dream our introduction really bothered me and I began wondering if, indeed I did not fear God.
Again, the dream flashed to a different scene, and I was sitting in the same house with friends and the new people I'd met, eating dinner. The earthy young man and a girl and another guy where arguing about what Colossians 3:1 says. They argued for about 20 minutes each trying to recite the verse, competing to be right. By the time the earthy guy was convinced he’d won the argument, I was infuriated. All of a sudden, I grabbed my plate and flung it like a Frisbee toward the small arguing group; it hit the wall and sent food sliding down to the carpet. Then, red in the face and shaking, I screamed, “I am so fucking mad at you! It’s not you It’s me, I am so mmmmaaaaddddddddd!”, and then I ran out, crying – upset at my own actions, for not being able to control myself and upset at the three people, especially the earthy guy, for not even attempting to look up the scripture.
From there, I ran to a park and cried, the sun had come out and by all accounts it looked like Spring outside. My brother-in-law Chris, came to me first and listened to me as I cried and expressed my sadness, shame and hurt over the situation and my actions. He listened to me and was kind. And then Jon, my husband’s good friend, who has also dealt with anger, approached me with tears in his eyes and gave me a big hug and told me it was okay, that sometimes it is hard to control your emotions. I was okay, forgiven and accepted despite my poor actions.
That was my dream.
What is real though, is that recently I’ve been having problems controlling my anger. I can go from zero to one hundred, emotionally, in an instant and its scary to know that my sinful nature can be so intense and hurtful. In those times I’ve felt helpless and unlovable. I’ve felt that perhaps it would be better if God didn’t love me, that perhaps what people say about just trying to survive is really the only way.
But those are lies, they aren’t true.
I finally did look up Colossians 3:1. This is what it says:
"If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God."
See, over the last six months I’ve been challenged, by some amazing women, to believe in God’s sovereignty and trust in his plan for my life, but I’ve been really struggling as I single-handedly try controlling my circumstances and the future of me and my husband. I’ve believed the lie that if my life is this way, or that way (like following the other people traveling near the edge of the Lake), my life will be filled with joy.
The truth is, I’ve been holding onto some deep seated desires that while not wrong, are becoming an idol, not allowing God to work as the awesome, amazing God he is. I’ve tried to throw him in at the last minute like trying to salt meat after it has been cooked. If you add salt before you cook meat it brings out the natural flavor and juices, but adding salt once meat is cooked just makes it taste salty.
It seems that my fear of God has been locked in a closet, and left to linger in my heart room are all my worries, anxieties and fears. These were controlling me, and I was not able to control my anger, a direct product of not “seeking the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right had of God.” In Colossians three, verse five through ten, Paul directly writes about idolatry:
Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator.
While the earthy guy in my dream wasn't perfect. He reminded me of what I'm like, trying to understand God's sovereignty when, truthfully, I've been so unwilling to look into his precious word. Perhaps when I screamed about being angry and said, "Its not you, its me," the holy spirit was calling me, chastising me to come to God through the scriptures.
And then of course, the conclusion of my dream where Chris and Jon were so kind and forgiving to me, is also echoed in Colossians 3: 11-14
Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all. 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.
Yet, my story isn't completed. This weekend I had a deep and wonderful, real life experience where I was able to experience what Colossians 3:16-17 says:
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.
Last Friday I was spontaneously invited by my friend Kate to attend a women's retreat in Suncadia, a resort in the Cascade mountain range. Not only was I invited, but my boss allowed me to leave early from work and someone else paid a scholarship for me.
Like the serene snow covered forests and mountains that surrounded the lodge, my heart was met by the Holy Spirit and through his love that flows in so many of the women that attend Mars Hill. I was challenged again, to seek God in his word, and to live and trust in his sovereignty. Words cannot describe my gratitude toward God for leading me to that place and giving me that great gift of spending time "singing Psalms and hymns and spiritual songs" and being blessed by "teaching and admonishing" by Christian sisters.
So, the weekend is over and the dream has passed. Yet I can feel God calling me, and I remain humbled and grateful for God's perfect timing, my gratitude, awe and fear of the one God is being filled and charged. I am laying down my pride and picking up his word. And, as I read Col 3 again, I am back again, in a love affair with God.
I guess, Colossians 3 is dreamy.
I must have been traveling to a dinner party because my dream flashed from the road to a meeting in someone’s home. Specifically, I was being introduced to three people, two of which I have no memories, but the other was a tall younger man, with long hair pulled into a ponytail and he had an earthy appearance. He looked straight at me and the first thing he said, “You don’t fear God,” to which I shocked and offended, replied, “Yes I do, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” In my dream our introduction really bothered me and I began wondering if, indeed I did not fear God.
Again, the dream flashed to a different scene, and I was sitting in the same house with friends and the new people I'd met, eating dinner. The earthy young man and a girl and another guy where arguing about what Colossians 3:1 says. They argued for about 20 minutes each trying to recite the verse, competing to be right. By the time the earthy guy was convinced he’d won the argument, I was infuriated. All of a sudden, I grabbed my plate and flung it like a Frisbee toward the small arguing group; it hit the wall and sent food sliding down to the carpet. Then, red in the face and shaking, I screamed, “I am so fucking mad at you! It’s not you It’s me, I am so mmmmaaaaddddddddd!”, and then I ran out, crying – upset at my own actions, for not being able to control myself and upset at the three people, especially the earthy guy, for not even attempting to look up the scripture.
From there, I ran to a park and cried, the sun had come out and by all accounts it looked like Spring outside. My brother-in-law Chris, came to me first and listened to me as I cried and expressed my sadness, shame and hurt over the situation and my actions. He listened to me and was kind. And then Jon, my husband’s good friend, who has also dealt with anger, approached me with tears in his eyes and gave me a big hug and told me it was okay, that sometimes it is hard to control your emotions. I was okay, forgiven and accepted despite my poor actions.
That was my dream.
What is real though, is that recently I’ve been having problems controlling my anger. I can go from zero to one hundred, emotionally, in an instant and its scary to know that my sinful nature can be so intense and hurtful. In those times I’ve felt helpless and unlovable. I’ve felt that perhaps it would be better if God didn’t love me, that perhaps what people say about just trying to survive is really the only way.
But those are lies, they aren’t true.
I finally did look up Colossians 3:1. This is what it says:
"If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God."
See, over the last six months I’ve been challenged, by some amazing women, to believe in God’s sovereignty and trust in his plan for my life, but I’ve been really struggling as I single-handedly try controlling my circumstances and the future of me and my husband. I’ve believed the lie that if my life is this way, or that way (like following the other people traveling near the edge of the Lake), my life will be filled with joy.
The truth is, I’ve been holding onto some deep seated desires that while not wrong, are becoming an idol, not allowing God to work as the awesome, amazing God he is. I’ve tried to throw him in at the last minute like trying to salt meat after it has been cooked. If you add salt before you cook meat it brings out the natural flavor and juices, but adding salt once meat is cooked just makes it taste salty.
It seems that my fear of God has been locked in a closet, and left to linger in my heart room are all my worries, anxieties and fears. These were controlling me, and I was not able to control my anger, a direct product of not “seeking the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right had of God.” In Colossians three, verse five through ten, Paul directly writes about idolatry:
Put to death therefore what is earthly in you: sexual immorality, impurity, passion, evil desire, and covetousness, which is idolatry. On account of these the wrath of God is coming. In these you too once walked, when you were living in them. But now you must put them all away: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene talk from your mouth. Do not lie to one another, seeing that you have put off the old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge after the image of its creator.
While the earthy guy in my dream wasn't perfect. He reminded me of what I'm like, trying to understand God's sovereignty when, truthfully, I've been so unwilling to look into his precious word. Perhaps when I screamed about being angry and said, "Its not you, its me," the holy spirit was calling me, chastising me to come to God through the scriptures.
And then of course, the conclusion of my dream where Chris and Jon were so kind and forgiving to me, is also echoed in Colossians 3: 11-14
Here there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all. 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.
Yet, my story isn't completed. This weekend I had a deep and wonderful, real life experience where I was able to experience what Colossians 3:16-17 says:
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.
Last Friday I was spontaneously invited by my friend Kate to attend a women's retreat in Suncadia, a resort in the Cascade mountain range. Not only was I invited, but my boss allowed me to leave early from work and someone else paid a scholarship for me.
Like the serene snow covered forests and mountains that surrounded the lodge, my heart was met by the Holy Spirit and through his love that flows in so many of the women that attend Mars Hill. I was challenged again, to seek God in his word, and to live and trust in his sovereignty. Words cannot describe my gratitude toward God for leading me to that place and giving me that great gift of spending time "singing Psalms and hymns and spiritual songs" and being blessed by "teaching and admonishing" by Christian sisters.
So, the weekend is over and the dream has passed. Yet I can feel God calling me, and I remain humbled and grateful for God's perfect timing, my gratitude, awe and fear of the one God is being filled and charged. I am laying down my pride and picking up his word. And, as I read Col 3 again, I am back again, in a love affair with God.
I guess, Colossians 3 is dreamy.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)