OPEN MIC: Step Up to Your Calling

God, do you own me?

October 21, 2009 · 3 Comments

QuestionI felt as if life was slipping away. Like a distressed baby’s heartbeat on a monitor, there was hardly anything giving me hope.

Someone I love dearly is sick. I haven’t heard from my son in a while. My own life path has taken a mysterious and confusing turn.

Desperate, I thundered a question to heaven: God, do you own me?  Do you own my family?  Do you?  DO YOU? !!!  I mean OWN, as in, are you taking charge of us, guarding, protecting, leading us—above everything?

I know when I pound the table—and even when I plead softly—God answers.  I listened up.

Waiting, I browsed Facebook.com and saw a link to a band, Living Sacrifice.

Huh.  The band’s name spoke volumes.  It was taken from a scripture I know well:

“Therefore, I urge you…in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God…this is your spiritual act of worship.” Romans 12:1

OK, God, I see, I see.  Yes, yes, I offer myself, my loved ones, to you…again. What about that “in view of your mercy” part?

I scanned the preceding verses, a Doxology:

“Oh, the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments,
And his paths beyond tracing out!
Who has known the mind of the Lord?
Or who has been his counselor?
Who has ever given to God,
That God should repay him?
For from him and through him and to him are all things.
To him be the glory forever!
Amen.”

My question?

Answered.

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Preservation vs. Pilgrimage

October 13, 2009 · Leave a Comment

pilgrimage

pilgrimage

It’s a different feel inside when my future is uncertain.

When I can’t see the way forward, my body chemistry changes. I become hyper-alert. As a result, I give myself to God in a much deeper way. I listen for His voice in my heart with all I’ve got.

I realize when life is going along fairly predictably, I don’t listen as closely.  Frankly, I don’t need Him as much.

When my health is good, my worries are few, and the income is regular, I’m more inclined to be in maintenance mode.  I’m not as open to the new.  I spend much of my time and heart-energy on preserving what I’ve got.

I don’t think that is what God wants.

He wants me to always be on the move, listening, growing and following Him into new territory—new ways of expressing my calling, different people to learn from or encourage, fresh ways of helping people only He can do through me by faith…

I admit I need to be shaken up now and then.  It’s God’s way of honoring me, of saying, We could do so much more together if you will trust and work with Me.

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Why You Don’t Know What You Want

September 3, 2009 · 5 Comments

You don’t know what you want.

Sometimes in an unedited moment–taking a shower or driving the car–a desire floats up and captures your heart. You see yourself feeding hungry people or leading a group or solving a big problem. Perhaps you are making people laugh. You are helping heal the world.

But the image doesn’t last more than a nanosecond. Instantly you return to your real life.

Why? Why don’t your desires last?

Here’s the reason: fear.

No! you argue. It’s not fear! It’s lack of money, little time, family responsibilities, no opportunity, bills to pay, REALITY. Get real, Gloria. We don’t always get what we want.

I say it again: the reason we don’t know what we want and the reason brief glimpses into our calling do not last is because we are afraid. We mask our fears with:

  • The excuse of being “responsible”
  • The myth that life is meant to be safe and predictable
  • Being intimated by those whose lives are played out on the Christian media Big Screen: famous speakers, authors, do-gooders. We tell ourselves we don’t matter.

All forms of fear.

What if?

What if you could set aside fear and all its masks for a few moments? Travel down into your heart and uncover the dream buried there? See what you could be and do with Jesus if…

…if you had no fear?

John, a first-century Jewish fisherman turned Jesus-follower, taught that perfect love drives out fear. (I John 4:18)

That’s the key. Fear keeps our love–for our Lord, for people, for healing and wholeness–under wraps. It keeps our focus on protecting ourselves.

John found a love that quelled his fears. He loved his Master and the Mission he could join. He ran with it.

Our solution isn’t money or time or opportunity–it’s love.

Who and what could we love enough to be willing to:

  • Take a risk for?
  • Be willing to go against people’s disapproval to win, to please?
  • Shake up our lives, step out of the status quo to pursue?
  • Feel our hearts beat faster at the prospect of it?
  • Endure conflict to win?
  • Sacrifice for?

sell everything to have? (Matt. 13:44,45)

Until we see Jesus and His call to us as worth everything, we are stuck. We label it “reality” and “responsibility.” But I ask you to ask yourself: Is it actually fear?

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Video: We Are Living a Story

September 2, 2009 · 1 Comment

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My Fall from a Very High White Horse

August 19, 2009 · 13 Comments

stallionI fell during midlife. My identity, roles of wife and mother, home on a Southern California suburban street, reputation, and firmly held beliefs about how life should be and why I was entitled to that life all came crashing down.

I describe myself falling from a high white horse because until the crash I saw myself as better than most people. I subscribed to “justification through comparison” per Donald Miller. I continually compared myself to how others were doing and rated myself accordingly.

Long-term marriage? Check.

Two healthy children? Check.

Career? Check.

Christian reputation? Check.

A home in suburbia? Check.

Then one day the husband walked out. And soon after every other item on my checklist went away also.

The result for me was a deep descent into heartbreak, bewilderment, pain…suffering.

When I hit bottom, I looked around and saw I was not alone. Also on the ground were people I used to be friends with but who had fallen on hard times, ordinary folks like the dry cleaner and the grocery store clerk, gay men and women, inmates in prison, former high rollers in business who were now bankrupt, senior citizens who had been put out to pasture, and Godly people from church who treated me kindly but I hadn’t found time for.

Although I was bruised and broken, for the first time in my life I felt safe. On the ground with the rest of the human race, I knew I could fall no further.

The problem was my shattered heart. It was scattered in tiny pieces all over the place. Now I didn’t know who I was, where I was supposed to be, or what there was to do with my life. But it didn’t matter. I no longer cared. I wanted to die.

Like any good physician, Jesus began a 24/7-treatment plan. He sent me messages–via songs, books, billboards, people, e-mails, and sentences in my brain. I realized He was there and He knew everything. One by one, He picked up the pieces of my heart. Some parts He dusted off and put back where they used to be. Other pieces He tweaked a little before repositioning them in their place. Still others He threw away. While I watched, He created new pieces and with a sense of satisfaction, placed them in the gaping holes.

The process took time–years–but my newly constructed heart is strong with reality and the surety of being uniquely fashioned and tenderly loved by my Creator. I am His.

From time to time, He asks me to join Him:

  • In assuring a suffering brother that God is in control and is at work;
  • In showing a hurting sister that her failures cannot separate her from His love;
  • In teaching younger journeyers that history is His Story. He is bringing everything to a good conclusion. Be strong and of good courage!

In these moments, I hear the sound of galloping hooves once again. Underneath me is the sensation of steel-like muscles lunging forward. On both sides is the rush of wind as we race forward in battle. I am not alone. My arms are clasped around a Rider whose Name is Faithful and True (Revelation 19:11).

Across my armor is engraved the name Fiercely Loving.

Together we ride in rescue of broken hearts.

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My Favorite Book: Excerpts

July 18, 2009 · 2 Comments

Blue Like Jazz

Blue Like Jazz

One of my all-time favorite books is Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller.

Donald is a thirty-something single guy who writes about his life journey with searing honesty–so much so that I find myself laughing or sighing out loud and sometimes closing the book to have a good cry.  His writing frees me to see my own wackiness with acceptance and hope.

Here are quotes I love (by chapter):

ROMANCE: Meeting Girls Is Easy

Donald grew up in a single-parent home with his mom and sister. He learned to navigate life on his own and, while he’d like to find a wife, he fears marriage is “like a prison door clanging shut.”

I can just see myself standing there watching her take her makeup off in the bathroom and thinking, “She really isn’t going to leave. All her stuff is here now.”

(This makes me laugh!)

COMMUNITY: Living With Freaks

The most difficult lie I have ever contended with is this: Life is a story about me.

LOVE: How to Really Love Other People

The problem with Christian culture is we think of love as a commodity. …I used love like money. The church used love like money. With love, we withheld affirmation from the people who did not agree with us, but we lavishly financed the ones who did.

Nobody will listen to you unless they sense that you like them.

LOVE: How to Really Love Yourself

Donald’s girlfriend broke up with him, he says, because of his inability to receive love. He always needed more from her and that finally drove her away. After suffering for some time, he was cleaning the toilet one day when God spoke the verse,”Love your neighbor as yourself” to him.

He (God) was saying I would never talk to my neighbor the way I talked to myself, and that somehow I had come to believe it was wrong to kick other people around but it was okay to do it to myself.

And so I have come to understand that strength, inner strength, comes from receiving love as much as it comes from giving it. …God’s love will never change us if we don’t accept it.

WORSHIP: The Mystical Wonder

I need wonder to explain what is going to happen to me…when our shift is over and our kids’ kids are still on the earth…I need to be somewhere else after I die, somewhere with God, somewhere that wouldn’t make any sense if it were explained to me right now.

JESUS: The Lines on His Face

I carry around a section of this chapter in my heart all the time. Donald imagines walking up to Jesus’ campfire and being asked to sit down.

He (Jesus) would tell me the truth, and I would sense in his voice and in the lines on His face that he liked me. He would rebuke me, too, and he would tell me that I have prejudices against very religious people and that I need to deal with that; He would tell me that there are poor people in the world and I need to feed them and that somehow this will make me more happy. I think He would tell me what my gifts are and why I have them, and He would give me ideas on how to use them. I think He would explain to me why my father left, and He would point out very clearly all the ways God has taken care of me through the years, all the stuff God protected me from.

- – - – - –

And now I go to sit and cry…


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Struggle and Surrender

July 9, 2009 · 5 Comments

Peace

Peace

The struggle has been building, getting intense.

It’s the basic issue of who owns me:

1) Am I a creation of God and a branch of Jesus?  Am I entirely His to lead and use as He chooses while I am alive here on earth?

2) Or, do I belong to myself? I make my own plans and decisions and take responsibility to do the best I can with my life.

3) Or both? I belong to myself but I’ve also accepted that Jesus figures into the picture. I want to please HIm, along with pleasing myself. We co-lead my life.

Aughhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I’ve been living out the third option and it is making me miserable. Splitting me right down the middle.

I sit down on the rug by my bed.

OK, Jesus. I can’t live this way. I’m giving it all up to you–again. I’m laying my entire life down on the altar of sacrifice for you to do with as you choose.  Here’s my life:

  • My present, my future
  • My work, finances, security, and desire for a predictable, “stable” life
  • My wish to know “The Plan”
  • My possessions
  • My body, health and strength, my appearance, any female attractiveness left
  • My brains and education
  • My opinions and judgments
  • My reputation and what any and every person thinks of me
  • My loves, my “right” to a husband, my desire for human affection and sexual fulfillment
  • My desire to keep parts of my heart for myself and this world
  • All of my heart is yours, Jesus. I ask you to rule and reign there completely.

There it is–everything I can think of.  Take all of me.  I’m yours.

And then I felt directed to put my prayer of surrender in a blog post.

No, Jesus!  This is crazy.

Yes, He reassured.  It will be fine.  I take the responsibility.

OK, OK. Please help me.

I write this post.

Peace.

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Who Are You, Really?

July 8, 2009 · 3 Comments

Who Are You?

Who Are You?

The kiosk of a small brick church caught my eye.  It read:

WE CARE ABOUT YOU!

How nice, I thought.

As I drove down the street, however, my thoughts clouded. How could they care about me–they don’t even know me. I wonder how well they know their own parishioners…

I flashed back to a conversation with my Mom. At the end of our phone call, she said, “I’m lonesome for you, Glo-ie,” (her nickname for me). When I hung up, I thought the same thing: She doesn’t know who I am. If she misses me, it’s not the real me. It’s some concoction.

My Mother has very set black and white views. Most of the time, I see things differently than she does. But I don’t wage campaigns to get her to accept my perspective anymore. She’s in her 80’s. I let her express herself and by my silence, she thinks I agree.

No, my Mom doesn’t know me, really.

I thought of the e-mail surveys friends forward where I’m supposed to answer 50 questions about myself. After filling in the survey, they will know my favorite color, food preferences, best all-time movie, and other trivia about me. But will they know me? I think not.

How well do I know me? I asked myself.

Blankness.

I live in an external world of tasks to do and distractions: groceries, laundry, the Nordstrom’s Half-Yearly sale, who I discover on Facebook…

But who I am really is contained in my heart–that inner place at the center of my being.

Mostly I am unaware and inattentive to it.

However, the human heart mattered supremely to Jesus. It’s what He accused the religious leaders of His day of having hardened. He taught that the words we say reveal what is in our hearts. He reminded us that the first commandment is to love God with all our hearts.

In scripture it seems the ongoing sorrow of God is:

These people come to me with their mouth and honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me.     -Isaiah 29:13 NIV

Of Jesus, it is written:

He didn’t need any help in seeing right through them.     -John 2:25 MSG

Ouch.

I may not be attentive to my heart, but God is.

It was time for a heart-check. I sat down on the rug by my bed and asked God to peer into my heart with me. Questions floated up:

Where is the accumulated junk–the resentments, hurts, fears, and judgments made on the fly?

Where is the beauty–the dreams born of faith needing attention?

Where is the pain–the pain I share with you, God, over what people suffer?

What do you want me to change…in my desires, motivations, thoughts?

What do you want me to believe you for?

Where do we go from here? What’s the next step?

At the end of the heart-check, I had a sense of where I was off-track. I was also renewed in where I was in sync with God.

I knew once more who I was.

- – - – - – - -

Who are you?

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I Can Give Something

July 1, 2009 · 4 Comments

ScaredI’ve circled my computer numerous times this morning.  The goal is to write a post for my blog (this blog).

I sit down and open MS Word.  My cell phone rings.  I take the call.

Then back to the keys.

Up again to straighten the clutter on the table.

Frustrated, I make peanut butter toast and pour a fresh cup of coffee, hoping to woo myself into sitting down long enough to complete a draft.

I stare at the screen. Admittedly, this morning I’m facing more than the usual fussing it takes to get myself to settle down to task.

I’m scared.  Scared to fail.

My insecurity is working overtime.  The message bubbling beneath the surface is:

What do you have to offer that’s different?  It’s all being said and done by others–and better than you can do it.  Give up.

Fear feeds my pride.  Pride insists I be “special.”

I’m stuck.

I want to give.  I desire to do what I do–put words out there that spread hope. Words that help push back darkness and shine light into our souls

I bite the toast and sip the coffee.

I know what I must do–I must be willing to be small. Unnoticed. Unacknowledged. Unrewarded.

I must do my part and trust God with His part–the outcome.

My heart rate slows. Muscles relax. Brain clears.  What happens with my efforts is not my concern.  I can give…something.

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The Question That Changed Everything

June 17, 2009 · 4 Comments

The Way

The Way

Confusion reigned inside me. Issues competed for my attention:

  • How will I pay this bill?
  • What do I want to do come September?
  • Why doesn’t she call me back?

My heart was all over the place. One moment I envisioned a scenario for my life that was wonderful, fairytale-like.

Minutes later my thoughts created another storyline, completely different. Perhaps this is what I should do. Yes, that’s it.

My flitting from one life plan-dream to another scared me. Am I crazy? I wondered. Unstable? Never going to get it together?

Then words from a new book jumped off the page. The author wrote a question she said guides her. The question is: God, what is your will for me today?

This was an aha! for me. Like a trustworthy guide, it led me out of all the detours of worrisome and warring factions in my mind and pointed me toward home. Home to what’s most important–God and His plans and purposes for my life. My Creator knows how I’m made. His plans fit me perfectly and reflect my truest, deepest gifts and desires.

I prayed the question to God.

Immediately I knew what to do. My work for today was to write: free writing in the morning and tackling a major editing project in the afternoon. Midday was for errands and exercise. All was well. God was in control.

God had been waiting for me to rest in His care and cooperate with Him moment-by-moment, step-by-step. The “God’s will” question returned the management of my life to Him and placed me back where I belonged–doing today’s work, solving today’s problems, and leaving everything else up to Him.

A deep rest and confidence returned to my heart.

Life is Good. The way is clear once again.

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Beginning Again

June 6, 2009 · 8 Comments

Beginning Again

Beginning Again

It was Friday night.

As always, I welcomed the weekend. My job as a recruiter drained me and I relished two days off. No schedule, no pressure, no surprise phone calls from candidates bowing out or hiring managers changing their minds.

Forty-eight hours of freedom.

But the two days also posed a problem—loneliness. No outings with friends or shopping sprees awaited me. Money was tight. I dreaded being by myself.

Next to friends and shopping, I love reading. So I purchased a paperback at Barnes & Noble and nestled down in my bed pillows to read.

The War of Art: Break Through the Blocks and Win Your Inner Creative Battles represented my favorite genre—self-help. The author, Steven Pressfield, described the many faces of resistance to creativity. Written from his experience with years of avoiding his talents, the book delivered one-page punches for combating the enemy—resistance.

The book both troubled and challenged me. I recognized myself in the pages—a wannabe writer who didn’t write.

Writing is my life-long passion. I’ve started writing a gazillion times. And stopped every time.

When life is easier.

When I have more time—I’ll write.

Near midnight, I fell asleep but woke up 15 minutes later, my heart pounding loudly in  my chest. I picked up the book and read further. I drifted off and woke up again. This pattern repeated itself for two more hours. Around 2:00 a.m. I grabbed a novel instead—a book that didn’t “hit home.” My ploy succeeded and I fell asleep.

At 5:15 a.m. a blazing headache yanked me out of deep slumber. I stumbled to the kitchen and downed four ibuprofens. Will they work? Usually with a headache this bad, only the prescription stuff helps.

My second problem loomed before me: no prescription medication. Laid off from my job, I now worked as an independent contractor.

No health insurance.

The prescription pills cost a pricey thirty dollars each. To get over this headache, I’d need to take two tablets today, two tonight, and perhaps one more in the morning.

One hundred and fifty bucks minimum.

While mulling over my dilemma, I plugged in the coffee pot. Words from The War of Art drifted into my consciousness. Didn’t Pressfield write something about headaches? I pushed the “on” button, returned to my bedroom and fished the book out of the covers. I found the paragraph I vaguely remembered in the introduction:

Resistance defeats us. If tomorrow morning by some stroke of magic every dazed and benighted soul woke up with the power to take the first step toward pursuing his or her dreams, every shrink in the directory would be out of business. Prisons would stand empty. The alcohol and tobacco industries would collapse, along with the junk food, cosmetic surgery, and infotainment businesses, not to mention pharmaceutical companies, hospitals, and the medical profession from top to bottom. Domestic abuse would become extinct, as would addiction, obesity, migraine headaches, road rage, and dandruff.

I laid the book down.

Was this true?

Did this headache—and all the others I endured over the past few years—arise from resistance? Was putting off my desire to write making me sick?

My headache raged. With a thread of hope, I opened the storage room door. I removed my binders of stashed notes, quotes, scribbles, half-baked articles and book outlines and flipped through them. I read an old thirty-page draft. Surprise! The writing was pretty good!

What stopped me from finishing what I started?

My mind recreated scenes from my past: a cross-country move, job demands, and one crisis after another . . .

Perhaps my body signaled me via headaches that my life—my true desires—refused being set aside anymore. Deep down, postponing writing until ideal circumstances showed up wasn’t working for me.

I substituted reading books on creativity. If I didn’t write, at least I eased my anxiety by reading about writing. Time and time again, the authors advised that steady output—little by little—fit into the cracks of a regular life brought results. Consistent effort over time established a writer in her craft.

Sighing with regret, I gazed at the piles scattered around me. Perhaps it all came down to fear. Fear of being a terrible writer. Fear no one would ever read what I wrote.

Was I also afraid I’d actually do well and fall in love with writing?

Motivated by my throbbing head, I decided to get over my resistance.

What shall I write now? No answer came. Discouragement squelched any new ideas.

What if I started and quit again?

I threw out pages of longhand and printed articles that were redundant or no longer enthused me. Midmorning I drove to the office supply store and purchased a bright, lime-green file box. Inside went what remained—the core ideas still reflecting what I cared about. The reviewing, throwing away, and filing process took all day. I would start fresh in the morning.

Bedtime came.  I noticed I was headache free.

Sunday morning. Day two of the weekend. Day two of my writing life.

Coffee in hand, I headed to my computer. Out of habit, I opened my e-mails and read a message from my sister. I began a reply and stopped myself.  No.  Writing is first. Write one hour, then you can e-mail her back.

I opened a new page in Microsoft Word.

My mind reflected the screen. Blank.

I prayed: Jesus, please help me write. I remembered an artist-writer advised her blocked readers to start where they are.

I typed: It was Friday night…

©2009 Gloria Rose

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What about you?

June 4, 2009 · 1 Comment

step up to the mic

step up to the mic

In the previous post I wrote about my friend, Lynne, and her calling.

What about you?

In what creative or nontraditional ways has God used you to bless others?

Please share your experiences in the comments section below.  I look forward to reading what you write!

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She’s Found Her Calling

June 4, 2009 · 1 Comment

sports buff

sports buff

My friend, Lynne, says she has finally found her calling.

It’s been a long road. And painful. Widowed a year and a half ago, Lynne struggles to keep her husband’s pharmacy home healthcare business afloat. Grief, fear, impending financial disaster and the prospect of losing everything have dogged her path.

She says God had her against the wall.

She heard a minister on the radio speak on Romans 8:28: And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. The minister said even if you are suffering, you are not out of the will of God. You are exactly where He wants you to be right now. God has something He is working out in your life.

It dawned on Lynne that things had to be the way they were for her to see that God is in control. She’s a first-born child and a super responsible person. She admitted she couldn’t solve every problem in the business or her life–nor was she supposed to. She must let go and trust God. Do what she is meant to do. Let God and other people do the rest.

On the heels of letting go, Lynne saw ministry opportunities popping up all around her (she’s a sports buff): her friends in the climbing community, her tennis partners, skeet shooters, people everywhere enjoying activities and inviting her to join them. She was to be “salt and light” among them (Matthew 5).

Lynne always thought she would be part of a formal, structured ministry–a church, a parachurch ministry–something she could help with. Nothing she participated in stuck.

Now she sees there are people everywhere who don’t go near a church or anything church-related. Some of the shooters she mingles with are rough and profane. She can be the loving presence of God among them.

Today she’s joining a tennis partner for a tournament. Who know what God has in mind.

Lynne is ready…she’s found her calling.

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Transitions

May 30, 2009 · 1 Comment

TransitionI’m in a transition–a big one. For the past two decades I’ve worked as an executive recruiter. In the current economic downturn the demand for recruiters has fizzled. I’m searching for my next step…and perhaps a new career.

In his classic book, Transitions: Making Sense of Life’s Changes, William Bridges describes the three stages of transition: 1) Endings, 2) The Neutral Zone, and 3) New Beginnings.

Nevertheless, my attitude is: I HATE TRANSITION–BRING ON WHAT’S NEXT!!!

Reasons I dislike being in transition are:

  • Transition means I’ve lost something or someone. And I must grieve the loss. I don’t like to lose and I don’t welcome grief.
  • I hate to wait. My friends know I dislike going out to restaurants where we must wait for a server to take our order, bring our food, and then give us the check.  The waiting feels like a waste of time to me. If I have a choice, I’ll pick Chipotle or the Whole Foods cafe where we can order our food, pay for it, and then sit down.  No waiting!
  • I avoid uncertainty at all costs. The Neutral Zone in between Endings and New Beginnings means part of my life is unformed, not in place, or unknown.  That scares me.

I dislike grief, waiting, and uncertainty because no one else seems to like them either. When was the last time a friend sat down with you, asked you thoughtful questions about your losses and fears and then listened attentively to your answers, in order to help you process your journey?  It doesn’t happen much.

By avoiding these subjects we give off the unspoken message that people are supposed to hide it when they are sad and afraid and get on with their lives as soon as possible!

Bridges says we mistakenly think humans are like electric appliances: unplug the toaster from one outlet and plug it into a different one and voila!–it works fine.

This misconception causes a big problem. The Neutral Zone is when something new can be birthed in us. If we get out of it as soon as possible, we might be pasting up a cheap imitation of our former lives and refusing to change and grow. It’s the famous “rebound” effect we talk about when Susie goes out and finds a new boyfriend just like the one who recently left.

Humans are very different than electric appliances.  When one part of our life comes unplugged, we must give ourselves time…time to think, grieve, evaluate, and explore. We must wait.  We must let God do what He does best–create something new.

So, I’m turning over every rock I can find.

What’s next, God? I ask frequently.

He hasn’t answered that question–yet.

I wait.

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What Story Are You Living In?

May 15, 2009 · 1 Comment

Grimm's Fairy Tales

Life is a story and we choose the story line.

One choice is the Here and Now narrative. In this story we seek to discover and experience all the wonderful things we feel entitled to–money, love, power, adventure, knowledge, super-health, on and on. You know the list.

The other story is Now and Forever. We choose this one when we catch on to the truth that our life is eternal. There’s a story going on that is bigger than our individual drama: God created the whole universe and authored a love story of huge proportions. His goal is the winning of human hearts, including my heart, my love, me. He desires me. It’s a story almost too good to be true.

It’s a battle, however. I could have what I want now if this situation or that person would just CHANGE. And I set out to affect the change and get what I want.

Sometimes I succeed.

But it’s never enough.

When I’m honest, I admit the Here and Now story is a heart-breaker.  I see:

  • Lovers leave.
  • Babies get sick and die.
  • Careers end.
  • Poverty and abuse run rampant.
  • Creative projects never get funding.
  • Loneliness settle into a soul…my soul.

But I’m rescued when I step over into Now and Forever: God loves people and is orchestrating a grand conclusion to this chapter in earth’s story line:…to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ. Ephesians 1:10

Living in this story I begin to:

  • Rest. I’ve got all the time I need.
  • Love others more freely, without so much of MY AGENDA in the mix.
  • See how the broken dreams actually fit me for larger ones.
  • See the WOW stuff I used to miss. Like how the world is coming together. Because of transportantion advances, the Internet, satellite communication, etc., people in every nation are being connected. This is what God planned. This is His story!

I enter falteringly into the part God is calling me to play. What human hearts can I help Him love? Who needs hope? Where is the healing I can join?

The Director is God and the sky is the limit.

Now this is a story I can live in.

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