I've never watched The Exorcist and I never will. Unfortunately, however, recently I did watch Paranormal Activity. OMG.
Demonic movies scare me. Give me vampires, werewolves, zombies and aliens. They don't scare me because they don't exist. Demons exist. And their sole purpose is to do the work of the Great Deceiver.
On a side note, I do feel incredibly uncomfortable watching movies that don't offer any hope or redemption or movies that ignore God's perspective on who we are in Him; in Christ.
So...back to portals. I believe absolutely and without question that there are "portals" in our lives that invite the demonic influence. But I also know without question that the "demonic" does not always look "demonic"--as portrayed in movies and print. The Enemy is very clever and very insidious. He can make something that is very destructive seem very harmless and enticing.
Lets see if I can define what I see as a portal. A portal is anything we have in our lives that does not honor God, draws our attention away from God, or is a distraction from God and which allows the Enemy to seep in and begin to steal, kill and destroy relationship with God, family and friends. Excesses, addictions, pornography are a few I can think of just off-hand.
I know someone who bought an i-pad. That #%@# i-pad has become this person's obsession (portal). Instead of spending time with their family, friends or even just with himself/herself, this person spends every waking moment doing something with that #%@# i-pad. To me, that's an obvious addiction--distraction--from God, family and friends. I know because I've been affected by this person's devotion to their #%@# i-pad. I miss them. I miss what used to happen between us before the i-pad. We used to talk. We used to solve the world's problems. We used to just enjoy each others company. I've been robbed. And here comes the "insidious" part of it. This person has no idea what's happened. I'm not sure they WANT to know. And there you have it. Spending time with that #%@# i-pad seems harmless and fun to them...after all...they're still in your presence, still hanging out, still "available", but THEY'RE NOT!!! The Enemy has infiltrated and stolen, killed and destroyed relationship. That's his goal, his aim, his purpose. I will confront this person eventually--after I'm done being mad. And that too is in the Enemy's design. Aaaaaaargg!
Recognize the portals and close them.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Can This Marriage Be Saved?
Is divorce ever okay among Christians? The Bible says that infidelity is certainly a good enough reason. And I think most would agree that an abusive situation would also qualify as a reason for ending a marriage. Be it physical, emotional, or psychological abuse, they're all good enough reasons to hit the road if professional or spiritual remedies haven't been sought or worked.
I know a couple in deep trouble. And I believe each of them is equally responsible for the shape their marriage is in. But I also believe that if they seek help, it can and will work. With God, ALL things are possible. But this marriage hasn't known the Lord in any kind of consistent way. They've dabbled in it. And I've noticed that when they dabble in it, their marriage improves noticeably. But the spiritual awakening needed in this marriage has never taken root. I certainly do not judge them or fault them. Young marrieds are generally so busy just trying to stay afloat with all the junk that life brings that the spiritual realm is not properly fleshed out and experienced. And, it doesn't help that these precious young people weren't really raised in a Christian environment. There was certainly exposure to it on both sides, but never any depth experienced. So, they need to learn it. And they need to start from scratch. Each of them must take ownership of their failures, selfishness, and unwillingness to love sacrificially. Ron and I had to do that in order to get this marriage back on track. It wasn't easy, but we did it. And we continue to do it. We always will because our "flesh" is constantly at war with our Spirit.
To any couple experiencing the possibility of divorce I would urge you to please seek help. Get to a pastor who will ask the right questions, and make you accountable for your actions and non-actions. Surround yourself with Christian community who will also "be there" for you and hold you accountable. No excuses. You cannot make this work on your own. You're on the brink. If you truly want this marriage to last; if you truly want your children to never experience the heartache and devastation of divorce then you must seek help. And probably most important of all, be willing to take a hard look at yourself and make the necessary changes. You cannot change your spouse, but you can change YOU. Be willing to look at what you've done to destroy the love, inhibit the spirit, and doom the union. Stop looking at your mate as the reason for the failure. Look at yourself -- because you're at least half the problem.
In return, and in time, I know that you will experience a love so dramatically different, so powerfully deep and so incredibly huge that you will bow in awe to The One who called you to this union. I know this to be true. You are God's gift to each other. And His gifts surely should not be rejected. My heart swells with joy and awe at what God has done in my own heart regarding my marriage. I am eternally grateful for what God abolished in me and replaced it with. It's better than anything I could have come up with on my own or in my own will. His ways are simply better.
If you do not seek help, your marriage is doomed to more of the same. Do you really want that? And if you think you can do it on your own...well...you're fooling yourselves. Been there; done that. You can't. And if you cannot see submitting your marriage to God, ask yourself this: have you done any better of a job on your own? Has your own way worked? Give your Creator a try. He's standing ready.
I know a couple in deep trouble. And I believe each of them is equally responsible for the shape their marriage is in. But I also believe that if they seek help, it can and will work. With God, ALL things are possible. But this marriage hasn't known the Lord in any kind of consistent way. They've dabbled in it. And I've noticed that when they dabble in it, their marriage improves noticeably. But the spiritual awakening needed in this marriage has never taken root. I certainly do not judge them or fault them. Young marrieds are generally so busy just trying to stay afloat with all the junk that life brings that the spiritual realm is not properly fleshed out and experienced. And, it doesn't help that these precious young people weren't really raised in a Christian environment. There was certainly exposure to it on both sides, but never any depth experienced. So, they need to learn it. And they need to start from scratch. Each of them must take ownership of their failures, selfishness, and unwillingness to love sacrificially. Ron and I had to do that in order to get this marriage back on track. It wasn't easy, but we did it. And we continue to do it. We always will because our "flesh" is constantly at war with our Spirit.
To any couple experiencing the possibility of divorce I would urge you to please seek help. Get to a pastor who will ask the right questions, and make you accountable for your actions and non-actions. Surround yourself with Christian community who will also "be there" for you and hold you accountable. No excuses. You cannot make this work on your own. You're on the brink. If you truly want this marriage to last; if you truly want your children to never experience the heartache and devastation of divorce then you must seek help. And probably most important of all, be willing to take a hard look at yourself and make the necessary changes. You cannot change your spouse, but you can change YOU. Be willing to look at what you've done to destroy the love, inhibit the spirit, and doom the union. Stop looking at your mate as the reason for the failure. Look at yourself -- because you're at least half the problem.
In return, and in time, I know that you will experience a love so dramatically different, so powerfully deep and so incredibly huge that you will bow in awe to The One who called you to this union. I know this to be true. You are God's gift to each other. And His gifts surely should not be rejected. My heart swells with joy and awe at what God has done in my own heart regarding my marriage. I am eternally grateful for what God abolished in me and replaced it with. It's better than anything I could have come up with on my own or in my own will. His ways are simply better.
If you do not seek help, your marriage is doomed to more of the same. Do you really want that? And if you think you can do it on your own...well...you're fooling yourselves. Been there; done that. You can't. And if you cannot see submitting your marriage to God, ask yourself this: have you done any better of a job on your own? Has your own way worked? Give your Creator a try. He's standing ready.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Submission
I think that when most of us see the word "submission" we get an immediate gut check. Out of any kind of context, it's a negative word. And to "those who are perishing" The Word's words on this subject may evoke some really nasty feelings. But only because it's so terribly misunderstood.
Funny story I tell on myself. When I first began to seek the Lord and be in The Word, I was reading in Ephesians, 1 Corinthians, Colossians, 1st Peter and elsewhere about "wives and husbands". I had not yet met Ron, was independent and proud of it, but was praying that God would bring a godly man into my life. I'd been a single mom for 12 years and I needed help finishing raising my kids. They were quite the handful at the time. And I was lonely for male companionship. Anyway, I was coming across all these scriptures about wives needing to be "submissive" to their husbands. Ya, ya...it said stuff about the husbands "loving" their wives, but that whole submission thing was a little much for me. So, I took my yellow highlighter and began crossing out those verses. Yep, just crossed 'em out. I even wrote, "what nonsense" next to them. Angry, divorced woman went nuts with her highlighter. Internal dialogue was something like, "Sorry, God, you got this one W-R-O-N-G. It's an OLD book with outdated ideas about the roles of men and women in marriage. Surely if the bible were written TODAY, this is NOT how You would have ordained it. Old, outdated information." Please keep in mind, I was just a baby Christian. I thought I was pretty smart, savvy and in tune with what being a Christian was about. Hm.
In the almost 9 years I've been married and 12 years of being a Christian, my thinking has certainly changed. I'm picturing my non-christian girlfriends reading this now and going..."Oh boy...here it comes...think it's time to shut this down." Please don't. Hear me out.
A non-christian friend at work recently asked me what the whole submission thing was about. She'd been to a wedding shower where there were a lot of "religious people". The subject of submission came up and one Christian woman said to the young bride-to-be, "Christian wives must submit to their husbands." As she told me this, my friend got that look on her face that made her look like she'd just taken a bite of something bitter and tart. But she was ASKING! And I saw before me an opportunity to share my faith and to show this friend what God's beautiful plan for marriage really looks like.
The first thing that came out of my mouth was that she needed to understand what submission means in God's eyes. And basically, in a 45 minute discussion, what God gave me to give her was this: In a Christian marriage, where the Lord is First and Foremost, and the husband is following the Lord to the best of his abilities, then why would I fear submitting to this godly man? If this man's first priority is the Lord God Almighty, if this man is seeking God's wisdom, courage, grace and mercy, if this man prayerfully considers all decisions and has MY best interests at heart, then why would I not want to submit to that authority with alacrity? It's a win-win situation. I also explained that being submissive does not mean being a doormat, and that most decisions in Christian households are mutually arrived upon. I admitted that submission is not always easy and that sometimes it's almost impossible based on where I am with God. My flesh cries out for recognition and advancement and submission is sometimes a daily fight. I tried very hard not to get "religious" on her because I know that's an immediate door-shutter. She listened. As I spoke, I prayed that God would give her ears to hear what HE had to say on the subject. I also explained that husbands and wives are submissive to one another and that that was the beauty of mutual submission--we prayerfully consider each other as more important than ourselves and love sacrificially. And that THAT kind of love produces all kinds of really awesome responses and feelings.
I must be very honest and say that I continue to struggle with complete submission to my husband. He's flawed, sometimes irreverent, and battles many demons of his own. And I can say that exact sentence about myself. And I've admitted before that I'm a manipulator and withholder-of-love-and-affection if Ron doesn't perform to my expectations. And I'm WORKING so hard on that. Because I really and truly HATE that about myself. But in the last couple years of my marriage, God has shown me what this particular kind of love looks like and He's extended me so much mercy and grace while I fumble along and screw up. And that same mercy and grace should be Ron's from ME as he fumbles along and screws up.
So while the word "submission" sounds out-of-date, old fashioned and just plain scary, the truth is that when it's done in faith to a man who loves Jesus, it's about the most extreme expression of love and trust there is. If you know me at all, you know I've battled with my feminist leanings as I've grown in the Lord. I don't for one minute feel I'm a doormat, a lesser person, a thing of no consequence. I am a bride of Christ, He lives in me and that makes me pretty damn special. I do not feel like I've given up anything in understanding my role as a wife. Quite the opposite...I've expanded my horizons hugely. And Ron has taught me sooooooo much!
Ron has amazed me and humbled me. He has soared the heights lately and been my rescuer and comforter in some very difficult situations. He has taken up the mantle of leadership and absolutely WOWED me. Now there's a guy I can entrust my heart, mind, soul and body to. But the secret here is that I learn to love him even when he backslides and reverts. I get very scared when that Ron shows up, but I trust that God will continue to point us both toward Him--thereby taking the focus off of each other while we mutually submit to a God that is truly concerned about marriage.
Funny story I tell on myself. When I first began to seek the Lord and be in The Word, I was reading in Ephesians, 1 Corinthians, Colossians, 1st Peter and elsewhere about "wives and husbands". I had not yet met Ron, was independent and proud of it, but was praying that God would bring a godly man into my life. I'd been a single mom for 12 years and I needed help finishing raising my kids. They were quite the handful at the time. And I was lonely for male companionship. Anyway, I was coming across all these scriptures about wives needing to be "submissive" to their husbands. Ya, ya...it said stuff about the husbands "loving" their wives, but that whole submission thing was a little much for me. So, I took my yellow highlighter and began crossing out those verses. Yep, just crossed 'em out. I even wrote, "what nonsense" next to them. Angry, divorced woman went nuts with her highlighter. Internal dialogue was something like, "Sorry, God, you got this one W-R-O-N-G. It's an OLD book with outdated ideas about the roles of men and women in marriage. Surely if the bible were written TODAY, this is NOT how You would have ordained it. Old, outdated information." Please keep in mind, I was just a baby Christian. I thought I was pretty smart, savvy and in tune with what being a Christian was about. Hm.
In the almost 9 years I've been married and 12 years of being a Christian, my thinking has certainly changed. I'm picturing my non-christian girlfriends reading this now and going..."Oh boy...here it comes...think it's time to shut this down." Please don't. Hear me out.
A non-christian friend at work recently asked me what the whole submission thing was about. She'd been to a wedding shower where there were a lot of "religious people". The subject of submission came up and one Christian woman said to the young bride-to-be, "Christian wives must submit to their husbands." As she told me this, my friend got that look on her face that made her look like she'd just taken a bite of something bitter and tart. But she was ASKING! And I saw before me an opportunity to share my faith and to show this friend what God's beautiful plan for marriage really looks like.
The first thing that came out of my mouth was that she needed to understand what submission means in God's eyes. And basically, in a 45 minute discussion, what God gave me to give her was this: In a Christian marriage, where the Lord is First and Foremost, and the husband is following the Lord to the best of his abilities, then why would I fear submitting to this godly man? If this man's first priority is the Lord God Almighty, if this man is seeking God's wisdom, courage, grace and mercy, if this man prayerfully considers all decisions and has MY best interests at heart, then why would I not want to submit to that authority with alacrity? It's a win-win situation. I also explained that being submissive does not mean being a doormat, and that most decisions in Christian households are mutually arrived upon. I admitted that submission is not always easy and that sometimes it's almost impossible based on where I am with God. My flesh cries out for recognition and advancement and submission is sometimes a daily fight. I tried very hard not to get "religious" on her because I know that's an immediate door-shutter. She listened. As I spoke, I prayed that God would give her ears to hear what HE had to say on the subject. I also explained that husbands and wives are submissive to one another and that that was the beauty of mutual submission--we prayerfully consider each other as more important than ourselves and love sacrificially. And that THAT kind of love produces all kinds of really awesome responses and feelings.
I must be very honest and say that I continue to struggle with complete submission to my husband. He's flawed, sometimes irreverent, and battles many demons of his own. And I can say that exact sentence about myself. And I've admitted before that I'm a manipulator and withholder-of-love-and-affection if Ron doesn't perform to my expectations. And I'm WORKING so hard on that. Because I really and truly HATE that about myself. But in the last couple years of my marriage, God has shown me what this particular kind of love looks like and He's extended me so much mercy and grace while I fumble along and screw up. And that same mercy and grace should be Ron's from ME as he fumbles along and screws up.
So while the word "submission" sounds out-of-date, old fashioned and just plain scary, the truth is that when it's done in faith to a man who loves Jesus, it's about the most extreme expression of love and trust there is. If you know me at all, you know I've battled with my feminist leanings as I've grown in the Lord. I don't for one minute feel I'm a doormat, a lesser person, a thing of no consequence. I am a bride of Christ, He lives in me and that makes me pretty damn special. I do not feel like I've given up anything in understanding my role as a wife. Quite the opposite...I've expanded my horizons hugely. And Ron has taught me sooooooo much!
Ron has amazed me and humbled me. He has soared the heights lately and been my rescuer and comforter in some very difficult situations. He has taken up the mantle of leadership and absolutely WOWED me. Now there's a guy I can entrust my heart, mind, soul and body to. But the secret here is that I learn to love him even when he backslides and reverts. I get very scared when that Ron shows up, but I trust that God will continue to point us both toward Him--thereby taking the focus off of each other while we mutually submit to a God that is truly concerned about marriage.
Friday, April 29, 2011
You are the SECOND most selfish person I know
Imagine turning to your husband/wife, looking each other in the eye, holding hands, and delivering that sentence in unison to each other. Was a pimple was just popped? Did a light turn on? Did a new perspective unveil itself? Did you feel indignant?
Or did you disbelieve yourself?
No matter what your response, it probably evoked SOMETHING in you and I'll bet it was not comfortable or warm and fuzzy.
When I first was instructed to say that with Ron (in unison), my first response was to laugh uncomfortably and think, "Ya, right." This happened at the Family Life Weekend to Remember retreat for couples. Hundreds of couples in the room were saying those words to each other as instructed. There were nervous giggles all over the conference room. And let me tell you, my second response was an inward indignation. There was absolutely no way that I was more selfish than Ron. Dude had it down pat. It was All About Him, All The Time.
We were at the retreat at the urging of friends and after enduring years of a marriage no one should have survived. And it was still extremely fragile--having just endured some really grotesque stuff. It was a heartbeat away from being pronounced dead. Friends, a pastor, and sheer will were the glue at the moment. And the glue was not yet dry. The escape hatch easily accessible.
A few minutes later, they instructed us to get in that same position--turned toward one another, holding hands. They did preface it with, "This may be very uncomfortable or even foreign to some of you, but please try". Ron and I turned toward one another and held hands. I was glad they'd acknowledged that it might be difficult for some of us--because it was for me. They then said to say to one another, "You are God's gift to me." I said the words, but they were empty. I think Ron said them and meant them--but he was in a different place than I was.
As the weekend continued on, I kept thinking about whether I was more selfish than Ron. Impossible. And I finished the weekend retreat without moving an inch on the subject. The retreat did help our marriage. It did give us some tools and it did open our eyes to certain aspects of our marriage that we'd never truly looked into. And I can say also that, it really helped Ron to step up to the plate in many ways. But he needed to. I don't say that tongue in cheek or with any kind of I-am-better-than-he-is insinuation. Ron needed heavy guidance and direction and he got it. And he ran with it. And I'm not saying I don't have my faults--I just wasn't really clear yet what they were. Yet.
In the years since that first Weekend to Remember retreat, I have come to understand what, "You are the second most selfish person I know" means for me in my marriage. And it's embarrassing and hard to address because it makes me face squarely something about myself that is really unattractive.
I'm a manipulator in my marriage. If Ron does not perform in a manner that is pleasing to me, I withhold my affection in order to punish him. Isn't that ugly. Isn't that just reprehensible. And guess what, I'm still doing it. It's a fight every day for me to let go of my anger at my unmet needs and love Ron as God loves him--unconditionally. Yes. I am the most selfish person I know.
Or did you disbelieve yourself?
No matter what your response, it probably evoked SOMETHING in you and I'll bet it was not comfortable or warm and fuzzy.
When I first was instructed to say that with Ron (in unison), my first response was to laugh uncomfortably and think, "Ya, right." This happened at the Family Life Weekend to Remember retreat for couples. Hundreds of couples in the room were saying those words to each other as instructed. There were nervous giggles all over the conference room. And let me tell you, my second response was an inward indignation. There was absolutely no way that I was more selfish than Ron. Dude had it down pat. It was All About Him, All The Time.
We were at the retreat at the urging of friends and after enduring years of a marriage no one should have survived. And it was still extremely fragile--having just endured some really grotesque stuff. It was a heartbeat away from being pronounced dead. Friends, a pastor, and sheer will were the glue at the moment. And the glue was not yet dry. The escape hatch easily accessible.
A few minutes later, they instructed us to get in that same position--turned toward one another, holding hands. They did preface it with, "This may be very uncomfortable or even foreign to some of you, but please try". Ron and I turned toward one another and held hands. I was glad they'd acknowledged that it might be difficult for some of us--because it was for me. They then said to say to one another, "You are God's gift to me." I said the words, but they were empty. I think Ron said them and meant them--but he was in a different place than I was.
As the weekend continued on, I kept thinking about whether I was more selfish than Ron. Impossible. And I finished the weekend retreat without moving an inch on the subject. The retreat did help our marriage. It did give us some tools and it did open our eyes to certain aspects of our marriage that we'd never truly looked into. And I can say also that, it really helped Ron to step up to the plate in many ways. But he needed to. I don't say that tongue in cheek or with any kind of I-am-better-than-he-is insinuation. Ron needed heavy guidance and direction and he got it. And he ran with it. And I'm not saying I don't have my faults--I just wasn't really clear yet what they were. Yet.
In the years since that first Weekend to Remember retreat, I have come to understand what, "You are the second most selfish person I know" means for me in my marriage. And it's embarrassing and hard to address because it makes me face squarely something about myself that is really unattractive.
I'm a manipulator in my marriage. If Ron does not perform in a manner that is pleasing to me, I withhold my affection in order to punish him. Isn't that ugly. Isn't that just reprehensible. And guess what, I'm still doing it. It's a fight every day for me to let go of my anger at my unmet needs and love Ron as God loves him--unconditionally. Yes. I am the most selfish person I know.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Forgiveness Part 2
And so....I decided to take a trip to Indiana to see Meggie. She was really struggling with being homesick while going to IUK. Now, this was quite a step for me. I HATE flying. Absolutely hate it. I'm not afraid of flying. I'm afraid of being trapped in that plane several miles up in the air, with nowhere to run. And where would I need to run? Hell, who knows...I just want to know that if I want to disappear, I can. Strange but true.
Ron and I flew out together. I will never ever, ever, ever forget Meggie's reaction when she saw me in the hotel parking lot. Her long hair flew across her face as she raced to get to me. She clung to me with a strength I didn't know she possessed. Our tears mingled on our faces and we just kissed and hugged and hugged. Precious memory.
We spent a blessed several days together, holed up in the motel, watching movies, playing cards, going out to eat and just basking in each others' company. But Meg was still in school, and so on one of my last days there I drove her to school, dropped her off and drove around the city seeing old haunts and of course, my old house.
As I drove around seeing old familiar places something began to overcome me--or come over me. Memories began flowing unrestrained through my mind and heart. And suddenly, I was so convicted of MY SIN in the failure of my first marriage that it was like a blow to my stomach. It hit me so hard, but yet so gently, that I knew it was God speaking to me. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, I knew that my first marriage should never have ended. I knew that I had chosen to walk away from something sanctified, holy and ordained by God. I had broken a very sacred vow. And my heart broke in my chest. I had allowed my marriage to end. I had been so homesick and so determined to move back to Arizona that I left with my three precious children in tow with the smug knowledge that Mark would follow. Mark had told me he would--and I trusted that. But he did not--and I SHOULD have returned to my husband. I did not. And in choosing to follow my own willful desires, I ripped my little family into shreds and continue to feel the repercussions of that horrible decision to this day--18 years later. I was brought to my knees with this knowledge as I drove past my old house. I wept for what I'd lost. I wept for my selfishness. And as I wept and took ownership of my culpability in the failure of my marriage, God did an amazing thing in my heart.
In those moments of agony and heartbreak a still, small voice said to me..."forgive". And in that instant, every bit of rage, every shred of hatred, every mean thought, every desire for revenge, every malicious wish I'd ever had against Mark was gone, disappeared, vanished. In its place was a love so pure, so sweet, so innocent, so overwhelming, so perfect, so simple that I knew, again, that my Lord had spoken to my spirit--to my heart. My tears were now tears of joy--sheer, unadulterated, perfect joy. I was FREE. I was free from the burden of hatred, condemnation, and judgment. My heart felt nothing but love and joy. But more than anything, I felt forgiven and wanted to forgive. I knew that I had been forgiven, by my God, for my sin of divorce and all that it entailed--selfishness, willfulness, lack of trust...and on and on. And I knew that I was ready to forgive Mark for all the ugliness that had come between us in the ensuing years of our divorce. It just wasn't important any more. I cannot express adequately in words the lightness that I felt. It was like those ugly, demonic talons had released me and I was in a free fall into Jesus' arms.
Several months later, Mark came to visit Cassie and John just after EJ was born. It was during that visit, on my back porch, that I asked his forgiveness for my part in the failure of our marriage. He was gracious and willing--for which I am so grateful.
This lesson in forgiveness has stuck with me. It has helped me move on in other areas as well. And I am so grateful for all the God showed me in that trip to see my daughter. I'm so glad I was willing to endure the flight and discover a truth so powerful it changed the course of my history. Forgiveness rocks.
Ron and I flew out together. I will never ever, ever, ever forget Meggie's reaction when she saw me in the hotel parking lot. Her long hair flew across her face as she raced to get to me. She clung to me with a strength I didn't know she possessed. Our tears mingled on our faces and we just kissed and hugged and hugged. Precious memory.
We spent a blessed several days together, holed up in the motel, watching movies, playing cards, going out to eat and just basking in each others' company. But Meg was still in school, and so on one of my last days there I drove her to school, dropped her off and drove around the city seeing old haunts and of course, my old house.
As I drove around seeing old familiar places something began to overcome me--or come over me. Memories began flowing unrestrained through my mind and heart. And suddenly, I was so convicted of MY SIN in the failure of my first marriage that it was like a blow to my stomach. It hit me so hard, but yet so gently, that I knew it was God speaking to me. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, I knew that my first marriage should never have ended. I knew that I had chosen to walk away from something sanctified, holy and ordained by God. I had broken a very sacred vow. And my heart broke in my chest. I had allowed my marriage to end. I had been so homesick and so determined to move back to Arizona that I left with my three precious children in tow with the smug knowledge that Mark would follow. Mark had told me he would--and I trusted that. But he did not--and I SHOULD have returned to my husband. I did not. And in choosing to follow my own willful desires, I ripped my little family into shreds and continue to feel the repercussions of that horrible decision to this day--18 years later. I was brought to my knees with this knowledge as I drove past my old house. I wept for what I'd lost. I wept for my selfishness. And as I wept and took ownership of my culpability in the failure of my marriage, God did an amazing thing in my heart.
In those moments of agony and heartbreak a still, small voice said to me..."forgive". And in that instant, every bit of rage, every shred of hatred, every mean thought, every desire for revenge, every malicious wish I'd ever had against Mark was gone, disappeared, vanished. In its place was a love so pure, so sweet, so innocent, so overwhelming, so perfect, so simple that I knew, again, that my Lord had spoken to my spirit--to my heart. My tears were now tears of joy--sheer, unadulterated, perfect joy. I was FREE. I was free from the burden of hatred, condemnation, and judgment. My heart felt nothing but love and joy. But more than anything, I felt forgiven and wanted to forgive. I knew that I had been forgiven, by my God, for my sin of divorce and all that it entailed--selfishness, willfulness, lack of trust...and on and on. And I knew that I was ready to forgive Mark for all the ugliness that had come between us in the ensuing years of our divorce. It just wasn't important any more. I cannot express adequately in words the lightness that I felt. It was like those ugly, demonic talons had released me and I was in a free fall into Jesus' arms.
Several months later, Mark came to visit Cassie and John just after EJ was born. It was during that visit, on my back porch, that I asked his forgiveness for my part in the failure of our marriage. He was gracious and willing--for which I am so grateful.
This lesson in forgiveness has stuck with me. It has helped me move on in other areas as well. And I am so grateful for all the God showed me in that trip to see my daughter. I'm so glad I was willing to endure the flight and discover a truth so powerful it changed the course of my history. Forgiveness rocks.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Forgiveness
It is such a relief for me when I extend forgiveness. That grudge gets so darn heavy after a while. And I don't even realize I'm being crushed under the weight of it. Clever, insidious deception.
Someone recently posted on FaceBook that, "Holding a grudge is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." You KNOW it's true. And yet, we hang on to and nurse some grudges FOREVER. Why? Because it feels good. But why does it feel good? Negative feelings have an energy that is very powerful and make me feel very superior to whomever the grudge is against. My grudge allows me to believe I am a better person than the one I'm grudging. How incredibly ridiculous and contrary is that?
The opposite of grudging is forgiving. And the difference between their two energies is something that is kind of scary if you really take it to task and determine the source of the "energy". At first, for me, the thought of forgiving is repulsive. So I have to ask myself, why would forgiving EVER be repulsive??? And if I take it to the core, it's because I'm filled with what I believe is righteous indignation--that person DESERVES to be raked over the coals. And imagining that happening is so...satisfying. Oh ya. And for a few happy minutes I'm blissfully seeing their demise. Who Am I???? Yuck.
About three years ago I had an experience with forgiving someone that has had a profound effect on my life. It's hard to express what it's done to me. But its ramifications have been far-reaching and powerful in a way I could never have anticipated.
I went through an extremely rough divorce about 20 years ago. It came along with the ugliness that most divorces have...custody battles, custodial interference issues, children's loyalties being tested and all the ridiculous, stupid, selfish, horrible things that divorce brings out. Now, you'll only hear my side of this because that's what I have. I won't exaggerate or lie, but in order for anyone to fully comprehend and understand what happens years down the road, you have to understand what went on before.
We got married when we were 19. I got pregnant about seven months later. I lost that baby in its fifth month. I was so young, so scared and so immature. That event caused my husband to lose a lot of respect for me, I believe--because all I wanted at the time was my mother. It took me a long time to miscarry. I bled on and off for several months. Finally, a perfect little baby boy was born on December 5. He only lived a few hours. That devastating event took a heavy toll on a young and fragile union. Three years later we tried again and proceeded then to have a perfect little boy. My then-husband was moving up in the ranks at work and spent little time at home. I can't say I was ever especially interested in sex and rarely initiated it. My husband was, I realize now, a sex addict. Bad combo. Anyway, nine months after I had Ryan, I became pregnant with Cassie. During that time, one of my husband's employees lost her young daughter and we attended the funeral. My husband's assistant Karen, attended the funeral as well and we were both about six months pregnant, comparing our bellies and talking shop, enjoying the camaraderie that pregnant women have.
Jump ahead three years or so. The marriage is on the rocks. He becomes domineering and controlling and I turn into someone who allows that crap. He had complete control over the finances. My name was removed from the checking account but I was expected to pay the bills. The way I had to do this was to make a list of bills for him and he would write me a check to cover the amount. I'd go to the bank and get money orders for each bill--fifteen to twenty separate bills. I learned very quickly that if I wanted any pocket money, I had to pad those bills. And I did--with glee at getting away with it.
One night he didn't come home. I was used to him coming home late occasionally, but not just not showing up. I don't remember ever really having any suspicions that anything was going on. I think I did pack the kids up in the car and go looking for him. Finally around 3:00 a.m. he came home and he looked different than I'd ever seen him. He told me he "wanted out". There was not a moment's hesitation on my part. I said, "Okay". He moved out shortly after that--in with another woman, but wouldn't stop coming over. So I decided to move out. I moved into this roach-ridden apartment with my two precious babies and life went on.
In the meantime, Mark had been promoted and moved to Indiana to open up a manufacturing plant there. He and I began to communicate and pretty soon resolved to put our marriage back together. We'd never divorced, so it was simply a matter of my moving back to Indiana with him. Prior to agreeing to being together again, he felt he needed to divulge to me that he had another child. That child was the same age as Cassie. It was his and Karen's--his assistant. To this day, I'm pretty sure he told me that they'd had another child too, but my memory is foggy there. Doesn't really matter I guess. I think for Ryan's and Cassie's sakes, I let it just roll off my back after the shock of it wore off. Karen and Mark had chosen not to become a "family" and the affair was over. Actually, Karen was married too, and her husband was sterile. He believed that the baby Karen and Mark conceived was his miracle child.
We became a family and lived in Indian together for four years. Good years, I believed. I got pregnant with Meggie and gave birth to her on the first sunny day Kokomo, Indiana had seen in weeks. However, shortly before she was born, two weeks before Christmas, and right after we'd bought our home, Mark was fired. I imagine this was devastating to Mark's ego. It was certainly devastating to our budget. But, being the man he was, Mark hit the ground running and somehow we survived for another three years in Kokomo. However, I became critically homesick. Big Baby Homesick. I wanted to move back to Phoenix. I hated Indiana. And I'm sure I made it known. Finally, Mark sent me and the kids back to Phoenix to investigate those possibilities, find us a home and he'd follow after selling our home and closing his business he'd begun.
Well, he never followed. He met and married, and is still married, to Gerri. The divorce that ensued was bitter, nasty and long. He made a trip to Arizona to visit the kids and to take them back to Indiana for the summer later that year. The divorce was still not complete. At the end of the summer, he returned the girls, but kept Ryan. I had to move in with my parents for financial reasons and stayed there for quite some time. I eventually found a low paying job and moved my girls and me into the ghettos of Sunnyslope. The divorce papers went through and I lost custody of my precious son. I could not afford an attorney and I had zero funds to fight him. Ryan would now be separated not only from me for the remainder of his growing years, but also from his sisters.
For several years, a battle ensued. Child support was whittled down to $40.00 a week--and was rarely paid. He lied often and without conscience about his income. I didn't have money to pour into a divorce. I had to take what was offered. I did put up a good fight through the judge and occasionally won some small battle, but for the most part, I and my girls were the losers in this never-ending battle. He often threatened to fight me for custody of the girls--and I truly believe to this day that it was nothing but a threat meant to scare me because the girls just never seemed that important to him. I had to resort one summer to calling the Sheriff's office in Kokomo pleading custodial interference in order to get him to put the girls on the plane to return from their summer visit. And I think he did this just to be spiteful and mean. I know he loved his girls, but he and Gerri did not have the accommodations to house two more children. He resorted in the years to come to calling me an unfit mother, telling the courts I slept around and any other horrible thing he could think of to make me look unfit. It was awful. We fought nasty. He rarely paid his child support. The girls and I lived in poverty--enough to qualify for state welfare assistance. I only got to see Ryan once a year and I did not have the funds to fly to Indiana to see him. Mark managed to work up a debt of $4,000-$5,000 in child support within a couple of years and persisted in his unfounded attacks on my character and my mothering abilities.
I endured years and years of this. The children grew older, the battles changed in nature. Every summer was the fight to get my girls home. It never got easier until the kids were out of high school. But there was always some conflict. I know I was no angel, but I can say in all honesty that I never set out to cause trouble, strip someone of their dignity, or instill fear for the pleasure of it. I got nasty when I had to, probably said more in front of the girls than I should have and delighted when he experienced a set back. I wasn't a saint. I made some bad decisions. Decisions I still regret.
Eventually, I remarried (the reason for this blog in the first place), the children became adults, and my youngest decided to go to college in Indiana. I'm sure Mark used his powers of persuasion to coerce this and Meg didn't get along with Ron, so it was pretty much a done deal. I was devastated to say the least, but knew that Meg needed to follow her heart.
I also had found a church that ministered to my needs and became a child redeemed. My love for the Lord blossomed and I began to see things differently--through a different lens. My worldview had shifted. Meg left and Ron and I were actually empty-nesters. Cass had married and pregnant, and Ryan was living on his own in another city going to ASU.
I decided, because Meg was so homesick, to go and visit her in Indiana. She was living with her dad and step-mom so I knew this could be a little tricky.
I'll continue this tomorrow....
Someone recently posted on FaceBook that, "Holding a grudge is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die." You KNOW it's true. And yet, we hang on to and nurse some grudges FOREVER. Why? Because it feels good. But why does it feel good? Negative feelings have an energy that is very powerful and make me feel very superior to whomever the grudge is against. My grudge allows me to believe I am a better person than the one I'm grudging. How incredibly ridiculous and contrary is that?
The opposite of grudging is forgiving. And the difference between their two energies is something that is kind of scary if you really take it to task and determine the source of the "energy". At first, for me, the thought of forgiving is repulsive. So I have to ask myself, why would forgiving EVER be repulsive??? And if I take it to the core, it's because I'm filled with what I believe is righteous indignation--that person DESERVES to be raked over the coals. And imagining that happening is so...satisfying. Oh ya. And for a few happy minutes I'm blissfully seeing their demise. Who Am I???? Yuck.
About three years ago I had an experience with forgiving someone that has had a profound effect on my life. It's hard to express what it's done to me. But its ramifications have been far-reaching and powerful in a way I could never have anticipated.
I went through an extremely rough divorce about 20 years ago. It came along with the ugliness that most divorces have...custody battles, custodial interference issues, children's loyalties being tested and all the ridiculous, stupid, selfish, horrible things that divorce brings out. Now, you'll only hear my side of this because that's what I have. I won't exaggerate or lie, but in order for anyone to fully comprehend and understand what happens years down the road, you have to understand what went on before.
We got married when we were 19. I got pregnant about seven months later. I lost that baby in its fifth month. I was so young, so scared and so immature. That event caused my husband to lose a lot of respect for me, I believe--because all I wanted at the time was my mother. It took me a long time to miscarry. I bled on and off for several months. Finally, a perfect little baby boy was born on December 5. He only lived a few hours. That devastating event took a heavy toll on a young and fragile union. Three years later we tried again and proceeded then to have a perfect little boy. My then-husband was moving up in the ranks at work and spent little time at home. I can't say I was ever especially interested in sex and rarely initiated it. My husband was, I realize now, a sex addict. Bad combo. Anyway, nine months after I had Ryan, I became pregnant with Cassie. During that time, one of my husband's employees lost her young daughter and we attended the funeral. My husband's assistant Karen, attended the funeral as well and we were both about six months pregnant, comparing our bellies and talking shop, enjoying the camaraderie that pregnant women have.
Jump ahead three years or so. The marriage is on the rocks. He becomes domineering and controlling and I turn into someone who allows that crap. He had complete control over the finances. My name was removed from the checking account but I was expected to pay the bills. The way I had to do this was to make a list of bills for him and he would write me a check to cover the amount. I'd go to the bank and get money orders for each bill--fifteen to twenty separate bills. I learned very quickly that if I wanted any pocket money, I had to pad those bills. And I did--with glee at getting away with it.
One night he didn't come home. I was used to him coming home late occasionally, but not just not showing up. I don't remember ever really having any suspicions that anything was going on. I think I did pack the kids up in the car and go looking for him. Finally around 3:00 a.m. he came home and he looked different than I'd ever seen him. He told me he "wanted out". There was not a moment's hesitation on my part. I said, "Okay". He moved out shortly after that--in with another woman, but wouldn't stop coming over. So I decided to move out. I moved into this roach-ridden apartment with my two precious babies and life went on.
In the meantime, Mark had been promoted and moved to Indiana to open up a manufacturing plant there. He and I began to communicate and pretty soon resolved to put our marriage back together. We'd never divorced, so it was simply a matter of my moving back to Indiana with him. Prior to agreeing to being together again, he felt he needed to divulge to me that he had another child. That child was the same age as Cassie. It was his and Karen's--his assistant. To this day, I'm pretty sure he told me that they'd had another child too, but my memory is foggy there. Doesn't really matter I guess. I think for Ryan's and Cassie's sakes, I let it just roll off my back after the shock of it wore off. Karen and Mark had chosen not to become a "family" and the affair was over. Actually, Karen was married too, and her husband was sterile. He believed that the baby Karen and Mark conceived was his miracle child.
We became a family and lived in Indian together for four years. Good years, I believed. I got pregnant with Meggie and gave birth to her on the first sunny day Kokomo, Indiana had seen in weeks. However, shortly before she was born, two weeks before Christmas, and right after we'd bought our home, Mark was fired. I imagine this was devastating to Mark's ego. It was certainly devastating to our budget. But, being the man he was, Mark hit the ground running and somehow we survived for another three years in Kokomo. However, I became critically homesick. Big Baby Homesick. I wanted to move back to Phoenix. I hated Indiana. And I'm sure I made it known. Finally, Mark sent me and the kids back to Phoenix to investigate those possibilities, find us a home and he'd follow after selling our home and closing his business he'd begun.
Well, he never followed. He met and married, and is still married, to Gerri. The divorce that ensued was bitter, nasty and long. He made a trip to Arizona to visit the kids and to take them back to Indiana for the summer later that year. The divorce was still not complete. At the end of the summer, he returned the girls, but kept Ryan. I had to move in with my parents for financial reasons and stayed there for quite some time. I eventually found a low paying job and moved my girls and me into the ghettos of Sunnyslope. The divorce papers went through and I lost custody of my precious son. I could not afford an attorney and I had zero funds to fight him. Ryan would now be separated not only from me for the remainder of his growing years, but also from his sisters.
For several years, a battle ensued. Child support was whittled down to $40.00 a week--and was rarely paid. He lied often and without conscience about his income. I didn't have money to pour into a divorce. I had to take what was offered. I did put up a good fight through the judge and occasionally won some small battle, but for the most part, I and my girls were the losers in this never-ending battle. He often threatened to fight me for custody of the girls--and I truly believe to this day that it was nothing but a threat meant to scare me because the girls just never seemed that important to him. I had to resort one summer to calling the Sheriff's office in Kokomo pleading custodial interference in order to get him to put the girls on the plane to return from their summer visit. And I think he did this just to be spiteful and mean. I know he loved his girls, but he and Gerri did not have the accommodations to house two more children. He resorted in the years to come to calling me an unfit mother, telling the courts I slept around and any other horrible thing he could think of to make me look unfit. It was awful. We fought nasty. He rarely paid his child support. The girls and I lived in poverty--enough to qualify for state welfare assistance. I only got to see Ryan once a year and I did not have the funds to fly to Indiana to see him. Mark managed to work up a debt of $4,000-$5,000 in child support within a couple of years and persisted in his unfounded attacks on my character and my mothering abilities.
I endured years and years of this. The children grew older, the battles changed in nature. Every summer was the fight to get my girls home. It never got easier until the kids were out of high school. But there was always some conflict. I know I was no angel, but I can say in all honesty that I never set out to cause trouble, strip someone of their dignity, or instill fear for the pleasure of it. I got nasty when I had to, probably said more in front of the girls than I should have and delighted when he experienced a set back. I wasn't a saint. I made some bad decisions. Decisions I still regret.
Eventually, I remarried (the reason for this blog in the first place), the children became adults, and my youngest decided to go to college in Indiana. I'm sure Mark used his powers of persuasion to coerce this and Meg didn't get along with Ron, so it was pretty much a done deal. I was devastated to say the least, but knew that Meg needed to follow her heart.
I also had found a church that ministered to my needs and became a child redeemed. My love for the Lord blossomed and I began to see things differently--through a different lens. My worldview had shifted. Meg left and Ron and I were actually empty-nesters. Cass had married and pregnant, and Ryan was living on his own in another city going to ASU.
I decided, because Meg was so homesick, to go and visit her in Indiana. She was living with her dad and step-mom so I knew this could be a little tricky.
I'll continue this tomorrow....
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
No Excuse Tuesdays and Friends in Distress
Tuesdays don't have an excuse. Mondays--well, they're MONDAYS; Wednesdays are Hump Day; Thursdays are almost FRIDAY; and Fridays--well, you get the idea. I think Tuesday's are the hardest day of the week to deal with.
I met with my accountability friends last night. It was a very, very difficult night. Recently, Melissa asked if Cari could join our group. Of course, I said, "Sure!" Cari is a brand new, baby Christian. Cari lost a her 2- year old son two and a half years ago in a horrible camping accident. I know that if I lost a child, I might as well die with them. Cari's pain is still so raw and so exposed. And she's so angry with God--a God that she's come to believe in recently. Her pain is so deep and searing that she doesn't want her baby to be in heaven with God--the God who allowed this to happen--or even caused it to happen. She'd rather him be a star in the heavens. I cried all the way home. I wept and begged God to intervene, to heal, to show Himself to Cari. And I trust and KNOW that He will. But she's got to get to a certain place for that to happen. And I'm not telling a grieving mother that her thoughts are wrong. God will deal with that. He's a big God.
I met with my accountability friends last night. It was a very, very difficult night. Recently, Melissa asked if Cari could join our group. Of course, I said, "Sure!" Cari is a brand new, baby Christian. Cari lost a her 2- year old son two and a half years ago in a horrible camping accident. I know that if I lost a child, I might as well die with them. Cari's pain is still so raw and so exposed. And she's so angry with God--a God that she's come to believe in recently. Her pain is so deep and searing that she doesn't want her baby to be in heaven with God--the God who allowed this to happen--or even caused it to happen. She'd rather him be a star in the heavens. I cried all the way home. I wept and begged God to intervene, to heal, to show Himself to Cari. And I trust and KNOW that He will. But she's got to get to a certain place for that to happen. And I'm not telling a grieving mother that her thoughts are wrong. God will deal with that. He's a big God.
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