When the Magic Dies

The magic of Christmas has inspired and wow-ed me ever since I was a little girl.

Anticipating Santa.
Singing Christmas carols.
Counting the days until we would fly from our balmy island home to the chilly winter winds, where our Maryland family would be waiting with open arms.


And then of course, the picking out, cutting down, & trimming of our REAL, live tree, the playing of the newest gifted board game with our cousins on Christmas day, exchanging gifts like socks & underwear, which you had to show to all, aunts, uncles, and grandparents alike because, well, it's tradition; and so much more.

The wonder.
The awe.
The beauty.
It never seemed to wane for me, year after year, and while it changed as I grew into adulthood, my eyes still sparkled with this -- my favorite time of the year.

Until last year.
Last year, when I found myself childless {for another year}; on an indefinite sabbatical from 10 years of full time ministry; dealing with over 3 years of increasing chronic pain with no end or solution in sight; in the wake of recovering from the fear of almost losing my parents in the Haiti earthquake; and isolated from friends and family because of distance in miles, in some cases, and because of distance in hearts with others.

My parents returned back from Haiti for the holidays, and my mom and I traveled to our traditional shopping haunts, and all of the feelings that I had been holding at bay, like a dam on the brink of bursting, slammed through my carefully guarded walls and I sobbed to my mother.


I told her that I did not feel needed.
I spoke about how I felt insignificant and how I had no purpose.
I shared how empty my arms and heart felt with no little one to share my usual, boundless, IMMEASURABLE joy of Christmas with and how I wondered if I could ever feel the same again.

I cried, "I want to WANT to give up!! Why is God so cruel to give me this strong will to fight in spite of myself, but with no answers, no solutions, no change, no tangible appearance of His precious promises."

To say that I was undone would have been an understatement.

My mother grieved along with me as tears ran down her face, lined with worry and stress at seeing her sensitive little girl all grown up and struggling through these real life heart breaks.

I hated hurting her with my emotional outburst.

I wanted to protect her. She wanted to protect me.

I could only imagine what she felt as a mother seeing her child suffer with nothing she could do...and as hard and difficult as this may sound, I felt even angry at being denied the opportunity to sit and to cry and to love and to lift up in prayer, my own children.

I truly felt dead inside, like I had found the bottom of my heart -- the deep, dark, hidden place that no one likes to go because the pain there is lonely and without tangible words.

Gradually, the Lord lifted me.

Like He does.

And carried me through Christmas.

Like only He could.

And now it is Christmas again.

Just a few days away, in fact.

My longing mother heart is still longing.

My arms still feel the weight of emptiness with a palpable strain.

And yet, something is different.

This year has been a year of healing, a year of soothing broken places,

A year of the REDEEMED.

Do not get me wrong.

The ache never goes away.

Not quite.

Moments that others take for granted.

Words spoken without a thought.

Memories made simply as part of tradition.

Hearing and seeing them still sting....

Yet, this year, as I unwrap Jesus, and His heart for me and Arno, for our parents, for the world, I ask Him to help me see with His eyes, to be gracious like His heart, to give generously from my own need.

There is a strange sense of hope that I have

In spite of the reality

In spite of the circumstances in front of me

In spite of the voice of fear inside of me -- "What if you get hurt again?"

In spite of ME...

I see Him.

And maybe, just maybe...seeing Him is the real magic of Christmas for me this year.

Acquired Taste

Jen Price was one of the first true and REAL connections that I made after I began blogging. We were at the decision point of "to-sabbatical" or "not-to-sabbatical" and I stumbled across her blog. She and her husband, Jeremy, were in the midst of their sabbatical time after having pioneered Ten Thousand Homes, a non-profit ministry in South Africa for over 10 years. I reached out and her reception, understanding, and open heart endeared me to her immediately. Although we have never met (IRL), I feel that she is a TRUE friend, and I cannot wait to hug her and talk to our hearts content one day!

God has taken Jen & Jeremy on a dreaming journey over the past two years, developing in their creative gifts and talents as artists. Jen is an amazing photographer {you can find her oh-so-awesome work HERE}, and Jeremy just finished up work on his debut EP project, Acquired Taste

When Jen asked me to be a part of the blog tour, I was psyched to be a small part of their journey.

There is a richness in Jeremy's music that reminds me of nothing else, and I love that. There is an honest transparency that touches that nerve of raw uncomfortability and soulish candor all at the same time that draws you more and more upon every playback.

Another amazing friend, Alece, who also spent a decade in South Africa, asked Jeremy about his heart and journey with this project, and how his work in Africa ties in with it all.

I wanted to share Jeremy's own words with you—

I have been writing songs for over 15 years and spent much of my early adult life playing music all over the world. The last few years I have set it aside while building Ten Thousand Homes. But now is the time.

Ten Thousand Homes is a movement of ordinary people actively building HOPE and creating HOMES for Africa’s orphans and vulnerable children.

In creating home for these children we try to inspire them to pursue joy. In the midst of great tragedy and loss, we desire for them to pursue their dreams, that which gives them joy.

My pursuit in joy has always led me to music. And one day I realized that to really help these guys I must all out pursue that which gives me joy. So for the first time, freaked out and completely blessed, I am releasing my first EP, Acquired Taste.

I chose songs that were not all written recently. One was written this year, while others go back as far as 8 years ago. The title track Acquired Taste was written while in the bush of Africa. I really wanted to represent a journey, and while this is a simple recording, I am extremely proud of it! What I know now is that this is only the beginning!

I continue to work in Africa, and while Ten Thousand Homes has no paid staff, the sale of these albums does help the work continue. Thank you for listening. Thank you for investing in dreams. Now, go pursue that which brings you joy!

So why don't you go check out Jeremy's album? You can download it for as little as $3! What a great Christmas gift for the music-lover in your life or for YOU!!

Listen to and Download Acquired Taste.

Follow Jeremy on Twitter.

Like him on Facebook.

Never Once

As I think back on this year -- the year of the once-broken, now {redeemed} places, the season of walking through the valley and the desert, this song resounds fully in my heart. I pray that it encourages you as you listen and read these words today.....

Never Once

Standing on this mountaintop

Looking just how far we’ve come

Knowing that for every step

You were with us

Kneeling on this battle ground

Seeing just how much You’ve done

Knowing every victory

Was Your power in us

Scars and struggles on the way

But with joy our hearts can say

Yes, our hearts can say

Never once did we ever walk alone

Never once did You leave us on our own

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Kneeling on this battle ground

Seeing just how much You’ve done

Knowing every victory

Was Your power in us

Scars and struggles on the way

But with joy our hearts can say

Yes, our hearts can say

Never once did we ever walk alone

Never once did You leave us on our own

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Scars and struggles on the way

But with joy our hearts can say

Never once did we ever walk alone

Carried by Your constant grace

Held within Your perfect peace

Never once, no, we never walk alone

Never once did we ever walk alone

Never once did You leave us on our own

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

Every step we are breathing in Your grace

Evermore we’ll be breathing out Your praise

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

You are faithful, God, You are faithful

~Matt Redman

Five Minute Friday: Connected

Every Friday I join with Lisa-Jo, The Gypsy Mama, so we can share our stories in just 5 minutes.

Here are her words....

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.

2. Link back here and invite others to join in.

3. Most important: visit, comment, encourage the person before you.

OK, are you ready?

Give me your best five minutes on Connected.

GO.

I take my hand, interlocking fingers into his.
I feel....connected.

I look across the table and she laughs at that same silly story I've told a hundred times.
I feel....connected.

I sit next to her hospital bed, the woman who gave my life from her body, and I take care of her for this momentary need.
I feel....connected.

I sit with my baby sister, who is not so much a baby anymore, and we watch a video with that famous person that reminds us of an old friend. We laugh and...
I feel....connected.

Words. Moments. Glances.
Memories encapsulated in time.
Hearts that no longer beat the same alone.
Lives that no more travel in solitary motion.

STOP.

Won't you join me or maybe visit some of these other brave souls putting their words out their with no restraint??

Night of the Living Dead Christian {Review & Giveaway}

When I heard about this Christian fiction book all about monsters, I was intrigued. Growing up with sci fi as a fictional staple in our home, gave me an appreciation for all things strange, weird, and extraordinary. Matt Mikalatos' book, Night of the Living Dead Christian, surprised me in the parallels that it draws from the "monster" world into the lives of Christians across the globe. From werewolves, vampires, zombies, and more, Matt challenges us to discover the "monster" inside of each of us through his funny wit, unexpected charm, and blatant honesty.

Relevant Magazine praised Matt as "Monty Python meets C.S. Lewis," which totally grabbed my attention, and I was not disappointed. While the randomness of the story confused me and caused me to struggle to enter in to the storyline for the first couple of chapters, as I carried on, I was impressed by the depth of theological understanding juxtaposed with the open transparency of today's culture.

Additionally, as a blogger, finding word treasures sprinkled throughout the book found me highlighting to savor again and again like "bone-white moon," "attractive brains," and "the pain tears like glass in the intestines."

And today one of YOU will get to win a FREE copy of this book! Isn't that great??

Here's how you can enter ::

1) Leave a comment telling me what the scariest monster is to you.

2) Become a follower on either Google Friend Connect or Networked Blogs. If you already are that's fine, too!

3) Tweet and/or share on Facebook the following...

@MattMikalatos #NightOf the Living Dead from @TyndaleHouse challenges you to find the monster in you via @lindseyfoj http://bit.ly/uUZqGw

4) Follow @lindseyfoj on Twitter.

That is 4 ways to enter!! Giveaway ends Tuesday, December 20th at Midnight EST when random number generator will choose one winner. Certificate will be mailed to the winner just in time for Christmas -- to keep or to give away!!

Check out more of Matt Mikalatos at ::

http://mattmikalatos.com/

Order Night of the Living Dead Christian and other great books at ::
http://www.tyndale.com/

Still not convinced...check out this video from the author :

{subscribers click here to see video}

watch on tyndale.com

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from Tyndale House Publishers as part of their Blogger Review Program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commision's 16 CFR, Part 255: "Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising."

Because Sometimes We Forget

"Adam and Eve were birthed, or created, in the image of God.

Period.

But they didn't remember."

~Emily P. Freeman

This journey through understanding my good girl tendencies has peeled back layers deep inside of me like an ripe onion, causing cringing and tears that surprised even me.

I mean, when you have loved Jesus since you were a little girl and tried to live a "good" life and be a "good" Christian, you think you have this "relationship-with-Jesus-thing" basically down. Not only have I grown up having a REAL relationship with Jesus since I was four years old, but also, my parents are missionaries, so He was a part of our lives in every way.

At 18, I went to a Christian university, started serving in campus ministry and never looked back. 10 years of full time ministry later; hundreds of messages and personal revelations on His grace, His blood, and The cross under my belt, thousands of encouraging words spoken from my own lips to others about His amazing love for them, and then...I begin reading Emily's book, Grace for the Good Girl and suddenly here I am discovering masks I have hidden behind for years in spite of all that I "know."

And that brings us to Adam and Eve.

They walked with God.

They talked with God.

I mean they PHYSICALLY SAW Him with their OWN eyes.

How amazing is that!!

And then.

Enter the serpent.

Bringing lies and deceit.

Planting seeds of doubt about the One she knew so well.

Oh my goodness!

Is this familiar to you?

The doubts, the fears, the mantras of insecurity resound in your mind.

Your spirit cries inside of you testifying of the One who you know so well, who knows YOU so intricately.

And yet....anxiety, suspicion, and uncertainty weigh heavily inside of you.

and like with Eve where "love dislodged itself from her heart, sending her spiraling down into despair and doubt and death," you feel that same disconnect.

It is to me.

Familiar, that is.

I did not ever realize just HOW independent and in-control I needed to be until this past year.

My best friend took my silence in my struggles as me needing my space because I act "together."

My husband did not realize when thing overwhelmed me because I do not tell him.

My mom, I pushed away, emotionally because her heartfelt love threatened to break through my carefully constructed walls.

I put up walls, masks, and an air of "I-am-in-control. No worries!"

So, I found myself alone, angry, desperate, wondering why people around me were not actively loving and reaching out to me, the way I felt that I had always done for them. I thought, "Don't they see that I am dying inside? Why don't they break through my walls? Surely I am not THAT intimidating....right??"

About a year ago, when my life first radically changed with my husband and I taking an indefinite time-out from full time ministry, I sat down with a long time friend who has known me since junior high. As we started talking, I opened up about the fact that I really did not have the answers to the whys and whats and where-to-next questions that other people wanted to know, let alone to appease that voice in my head that needed order and control.

She said something to me that kind of amazed me.

"Lindsey, do you know how many people would not only be accepting but actually grateful that you 'don't know,' that you don't have all the answers for 'what's next?' I think you would be surprised that they would actually be thinking, 'Wow! She is actually like the rest of us.' Because you have always seemed so sure, so confident, so in control, and most people really feel like they have no clue, on a daily basis."

Her words just kind of blew me away.

People really LIVE like that!?!?

And they think...those things....about ME?!?!?!

But I wanted them to, did I not?

So they were giving me what I wanted

Or at least what I was communicating that I wanted.

I know now that the good girl inside of me never wanted to be weak, never wanted to look needy. If other people are, that is okay, but somehow I must be special....so never let them see you sweat....right?

Right??

"I hide behind my mask of performance so people will think I am smart, capable, and put together. I hide behind the reputation I have established rather than risk trusting an unpredictable Jesus. I hide behind my positive emotions rather than let you see my reality. I hide behind my list of rules so I can check off each one, as if I'm another step closer to God because I've followed them. I hide behind my mask of strength because I'm ashamed of my weakness....I have to come out of hiding in order to be found. To be healed. To be whole."

Oh! And this is where the revelation is just beautiful.

"The Bible calls the masks we depend on flesh....the Spirit and the flesh are in opposition. It doesn't matter if your flesh looks bad or good: it opposes the Spirit within you, and these struggles can rob us from living out of our true, Jesus-made identity."

The part that really speaks to me is how it does not matter if your flesh looks bad or good. When it is fighting against His Spirit inside of you, THAT is the real issue!

So what does God give us?

Mercy and Grace.

An escape that we do not deserve.

"Mercy protects. Grace provides....In the person of Jesus, mercy and grace show up perfect and pour out all over us."

We have to make a choice....I must make a choice to come out of the hiding place of shame, where I must DO and EARN and PROVE my own salvation; and to walk into the hiding place of grace where I not only receive the price He paid FOR me but I take that identity UPON me.

For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.

(Colossians 3:3)

"This is the different kind of hiding than the one we have practiced as good girls. When we realize the safe place where we dwell, there is new hope for the entire human race to breathe a collective sigh of sweet relief. God has provided a better way and because of that, there is a new way to live."

I am reading and writing through Emily P. Freeman's book Grace For the Good Girl with Momma Day by Day and some other brave recovering good girls as we delve into our "good girl" tendencies and share our journeys in {RE}discovering His grace, His heart. This post is a reflection of chapter 10.

Read more about my journey through Grace for the Good Girl....

Intro & Chapter 1

Chapters 2 & 3

Chapters 4 & 5

Chapters 6 & 7

Chapters 8 & 9

My Broken Pieces :: Redeemed

It was about a year ago that I first heard about the One Word community -- a gathering of people prayerfully asking the Father to give them one word to individually guide their lives for the year.

And I wanted in.
To simplify.
To slow down.
To listen better
Without all the words
and timelines
and goals
and noise
because for me, I was too caught up in my own perfectionistic world
so One Word
was....perfect....for me.


So the Lord dropped the word REDEEMED into my heart, my spirit.
And I set off on a journey to discover what that meant for me, what He was speaking to me, and what would happen inside of me.

I realized that if I were to highlight a word for 2010 in hindsight, it would be GRACE. And as this year progressed, it seemed that the majority of the lessons were still centered around grace. In fact, you will find twice as many tags for grace in my history than redeemed. So I wondered if I had chosen the wrong word, if I had not heard Him correctly, but I pressed on determined to walk the path and complete the road of discovery He had been guiding me through.

And then last month, I was talking to a friend, sharing bits and pieces of my journey, my struggles, my fears, my pain, my ugly, and I revealed how I had finally seen God's hand and heart after several years of mistrust and hurt and how through my tears, laughter and thankfulness came.

I, then, heard myself saying,

"It's amazing how in the midst of the biggest hurt of my life. In the midst of the trials and pain, I am finding joy. And nothing has really changed, but the brokenness makes more sense now. And I realize that He is REDEEM-ing everything for His glory, for my future, for a treasure to give to the world."

And the words caught in my throat.
And I gasped in that incredible moment of realization....

He has redeemed my broken pieces.


He is using the hard.
He has plans even in my mess.
He is good even when sorrow is like my own skin.
Everything is being redeemed
by the One who knows me better than I could ever know myself.

Nothing is left spilled and wasted on the ground.
Even the chaff has purpose with Him.

My life is Redeemed.

It's Just NOT Fair!

I had a thing about fairness when I was a kid.
I guess a lot of kids do, but mine was sort of ultra.
If my sister and I did something wrong, we had to be punished THE SAME.
If there was candy to be divided you could count on me to be equal.
Even now as an adult, this mantra of "Fair. Fair.....fair, fair, fair." constantly resounds in my head. I can see it in how I relate to my husband.

"I picked the restaurant last time so now it's your turn." or even when I am unfair, "Sorry that I am being unfair, I'm a girl...you're a boy...that's the way that it is." {Amazing that THAT one actually works at times!}

But seriously.....

I think, as a good girl, I truly believed in my heart that if I did the right things, if I spoke the right words, if I loved the right way.....well....hard work, good manners, right thinking, kind words should be given more merit, more rewards, more accolades than those who do NOT do "the right thing," right?

And I know that God's grace is the answer.

I know that it is by faith alone that we are saved.

"It is a gift of God, not by works so that no one can boast."

Ephesians 2:9

I know these things. I believe them. I have taught them to others. I have prayed them over my life and over my disciples, family, friends. But somehow, when I am honest, I want my "goodness" to count for something.

"In the safety of isolation, I take off that mask of good performance, hang it up for the night, and dare to ask the Lord why the rebels and the renegades get the parties. Why do the prodigal daughters get the glory? Where is my fattened calf? I begin to question if I can ever experience the full measure of God's grace since my stores are so straight laced. Then, Shame chooses that moment to walk in and reintroduce herself, smiling as she sits on the corner of my bed with her I told you so and her sarcastic You're not so good after all. I am forced to agree with her. I'm not so good after all. I have issues. I still believe the crazy lie that God's acceptance of me is based on my performance. I'm still living in a small story that is all about me. That is the raw of it, straight from my ugly." ~Emily P. Freeman

Emily goes on to describe the story in the Bible of the prodigal son, the father, and the older brother and how as the good girl, she relates to and feels for the older brother.

"Good girls think there should be consequences for the actions of the prodigal, not a party."

A husband and a happy ending for the girl who saved herself for marriage, not the promiscuous girl.

The fulfilling dream job for the woman who has labored in tough positions for years, not the one who just got there by a fluke.

And here's the one that really hit home for me:

"There should be a baby for the couple who have faithfully prayed to get pregnant, not for the sixteen-year-old girl who had miserable sex one time with her boyfriend."

Ouch. I have felt that way.

Angry.

Hurt.

Looked Over.

Cast Aside.

Forgotten.

"We hide behind this mask of indifference, pretending it doesn't bother us, because the only alternative is to face the source of the anger and what we are afraid to admit we believe: How can he choose to reward them and ignore me?"

The fairness quality in me rose up with a mighty vengeance about a year and a half into the journey of trying to conceive. Teenage girls were getting pregnant. Women who were unmarried and living life the way they pleased were getting pregnant. Friends were on their second and third pregnancies. Women who had barely been Christians for two minutes were getting pregnant. And even today, almost 4 years later, it is still hard.

It seems so easy for some people.

No waiting. No trials. No testing. No "character" growth.

Just badda-bing-badda-boom.

Pregnant.

Something that the Lord has begun to reveal to the little, LIFE-MUST-BE-FAIR, good girl inside of me is this -- we all struggle with something. Life is never just "easy," without experiences that stretch our hearts, our sanity, our faith.

Maybe it is being single well into adulthood, lack of finances, issues with health, strain in relationships, marital problems, or infertility. Either way, we all battle with the loss of dreams or feel frustrated in God's timing or wondering why our "good works" are not paying off.

And the bottom line is whether you relate to the prodigal's journey or the older brother's frustration, they both had one thing in common: the love of the father AND the NEED for that love.

Because even the older brother needed to see himself as the prodigal....

"If he had come to his father in the same way the prodigal had, he would have experienced the same love and acceptance every time. The beautiful, redemptive truth is, I am free to identify with the Father, the one who offered unconditional love and acceptance to both sons."

His strength is perfect when our strength is gone;

He’ll carry us when we can’t carry on.

Raised in His power, the weak become strong;

His strength is perfect, His strength is perfect.

~Steven Curtis Chapman

I am reading and writing through Emily P. Freeman's book Grace For the Good Girl with Momma Day by Day and some other brave recovering good girls as we delve into our "good girl" tendencies and share our journeys in {RE}discovering His grace, His heart. This post is a reflection of chapters 8 and 9, mostly chapter nine.

Read more about my journey through Grace for the Good Girl....

Intro & Chapter 1

Chapters 2 & 3

Chapters 4 & 5

Chapters 6 & 7

Five Minute Friday: The Colors of My World

Five Minute Friday

Stop.

Drop.

Write.

No major editing.

No big fuss.

Topic :: Color

Ready?

Set?
GO.

My world has always been filled with color

From the golden sunsets over Hispaniola

To the white crest waves of my Eastern US home

From the amber waves of grain in my midwestern college days

To the Rainbow Nation that I married into

I love color.
Red and yellow, black and white
They are precious in this sight.
Seeing the world in the many hues is the advantage of growing up with the title "missionary kid"

But the colors of life are vaster, wider, deeper, even now than my little girl eyes ever knew
The deep dark black and blue waters of pain and sorrow
The radiant yellow and orange sunrises of new love awakening
The deep, warm, & mysterious greens of the inner psyche of the ones around me.

Pause.
Deep Breath.
Sigh.
I'm glad for the God of the multi-colored-dimensional world.

STOP.

My mind is in many deep waters today....all part of the color of being ME...I suppose. {smile}

Join me over at Lisa-Jo's today?

My Only Regret

When I first started blogging, I had a commenter tell me that they enjoyed my blog but that their only regret is that they found my blog as I was leaving Africa.

I had only been blogging regularly for a couple of months at that point and truly did not have a clue why or what I was doing. My life was in major transition, and emotionally, I found myself at rock bottom. Leaving South Africa was one of the hardest decisions of my whole life thus far because leaving there also meant taking an indefinite "time-out" from full time ministry, which had pretty much defined my entire existence, both as a child and as an adult, with no clue as to what and where God was taking my husband and I next.

So while I know that the commenter's intentions were not meant to hurt or to harm, the impact of those few ill-timed words ran deep into my soul.

What did I think I was doing starting a blog in this season of my life?

What did I think I would have to say?

I was in the midst of brokenness and sorrow and pain.

************************************************************************

Would you join me over at Momma Day by Day to hear the rest of the story?

You MUST Nothing!

"As a good girl, we are so used to hearing words like you ought to, you should, and you must. With those same ears, we listen to Jesus and it sounds as though He speaks the same language."

~Emily Freeman, Grace for the Good Girl

Although I asked Jesus into my heart, and meant it, when I was just 4 years old, I truly believe that the first bloom of understanding of God's grace began when I was a freshman in college, feeling un-popular, un-intelligent, and un-pretty compared to all the other beautiful, smart, talented AND Godly women walking around campus. Previously in my life, when I felt like a girl was prettier or smarter or more talented, I knew that I was "good," that I "loved Jesus more" {Ouch! Did I really just say that out loud?!?!}. Well, I did. And it made me feel good about....ME! All of my hard work to measure up and be good enough seemed to pale in comparison on this campus where everyone, or at least it seemed like it, not only grew up in a "Christian" home, but they, too, like me, really cared about doing God's will for their lives.

What was special about me now?

God took me on a journey of grace that first semester that has become a pinnacle moment in my life consistently reminding me of the Spirit's words to me on that chilly winter night in my 1970's inspired dorm room, "But for the grace of God, I could be the prostitute on the streets."

And I have never been the same since.
But grace is a life long journey. Like the ocean, it ebbs and flows onto the sands of our existence, consuming more and more of us as we yield to its work.

But ONLY when we yield do we see the world differently, including ourselves.

In chapter 6 of Grace for the Good Girl, Emily delves into law versus grace and the reason for the law and how it shows the hand of grace in tremendous abundance. I am not going to recount all of that here but I want to share the Scripture that has forever changed my life, and to truly "get it", you have to begin at Romans 7 which I will summarize for the sake of time.......

Pauls tell us -- What I want to do, I never do. What I don't want to do, that is what I do. I can't seem to get it together. My flesh is always in a battle with my spirit and the flesh ALWAYS seems to win!! -- and then he rounds off his rant by saying -- What a wretched man am I!

And then here comes the best part in Romans 8 verse 1.....

"There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus for the law of the Spirit of life has SET YOU FREE from the law of sin and death...."

Amen.

Such simple words, but they pack a punch in the stomach of the devil and his lies into the ears of every good girl, including myself.

"When you get miserable enough to die, you can be free.

Go ahead and live under the law -- give it your best shot.

Ultimately the law will make you so miserable, you'll want to die.

Then you will find that someone already died for you."

~Dudley Hall

But what about when it goes beyond the law, beyond the spiritual disciplines, beyond the rules, somehow we just feel "responsible" for.....well....EVERYTHING!!

"It means taking things on as my own that were never meant for me to take on. It is the false belief that I, myself, am the cause or explanation for the bad, uncomfortable, or dissatisfied people or circumstances around me."

Emily talks about how she could never remember a time that she did not feel responsible. I can remember always feeling that way too. I felt like it was my job to make sure nothing went wrong...EVER! And if it did go wrong, somehow it was my fault, even when it wasn't.

She goes on to talk about those "blurry things" where maybe we could have changed this or that or said or done something different, and that becomes a whirlwind of angst in the mind and heart of a good girl.

And then suddenly even though, in most cases, this impossible job of responsibility came from self....

"I simultaneously feel resentful that I am the one to manage it all. Why doesn't anyone else fix this? Why do I have to be the one? Even though I was the one who wrote the job description and hired myself to fill the role, I want to both quit and fire myself."

I know that I have felt like this time and time and time again. I wonder why others do not step up to the plate or why I always have to be the one who is so strong and so tough.

Emily says this of her roommate in college...

"In my silence and refusal to be vulnerable, I inadvertently taught her that I had no needs, no weakness, and no reason to lean on her....Hiding behind a mask of strength and responsibility is a lonely place to live."

Wow! I have done that too, repeatedly, and, I, too, have felt utterly alone.

Brennan Manning says it best:

"There is more power in sharing our weaknesses than our strengths."

"The power doesn't stop there. If you are anything like me, then you know the fine art of how to be vulnerable enough so people believe you are authentic, but not so vulnerable that all your mess hangs out. You know how to be vulnerable with boundaries. Even though it is freeing and relieving to share our weakness with one another, that alone won't bring much relief in the long run....We may be able to hide some of the mess with each other, but we have a God who sees and knows and loves no matter what."

Oh how I perfected that art! And in fact, was proud of my great achievement in making others feel that I had been "open" without really and truly letting down my guard. I just cannot seem to resist trying to tie up my mess with a pretty little bow at the end of my conversations with people, instead of just allowing myself to be, and even more painful, to LOOK, weak.

Are you like me?

Feeling the weight of doing the "right" thing, whether it be a spiritual discipline, a chosen responsibility, or a need to be seen as strong?

Pastor Bert Pretorius in South Africa would often say,

You MUST Nothing!

We, myself included, habitually feel that we HAVE to do this or that or else something terrible will happen. But God doesn't work that way -- in MUSTS. He operates in grace, in love, in choice, in relationship.

"Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light."

~Matthew 11:28-30

I am reading and writing through Emily P. Freeman's book Grace For the Good Girl with Momma Day by Day and some other brave recovering good girls as we delve into our "good girl" tendencies and share our journeys in {RE}discovering His grace, His heart. This post is a reflection of chapters 6 and 7.

Read more about my journey through Grace for the Good Girl....

Intro & Chapter 1

Chapters 2 & 3

Chapters 4 & 5

Five Minute Friday: The Transformation of Tired

Do you have just 5 minutes today to share your heart, your words, your soul? Join me, Lisa-Jo, and these lovely wordsmiths and just write....for 5 minutes....won't you give it a try?

Today's prompt.....

TIRED

GO.

I sit here fingers posed, waiting for the seconds to tick down to tell me when my 5 minutes begin.
As I sit there, I ponder.

What does "tired" mean to me.....today?

Today as the first day of December has just slipped into the second.
Today when I just hours before poured out my heart on post and screen about my struggle and my hope for this Christmas season.
Today when I think about the words I penned about the changes that my issues with health have racked upon my body.

How do I sum up "tired" neat and tidy in 5 minutes when tired seems to have become a part of my soul?

And yet....
has it really?

In the midst of the health issues, the baby longings, the questions about purpose and future and dreams, somehow, somewhere, some way, the tired turned into something more -- strength, hope, courage, faith -- and yet nothing really changed.

Except me.

Now I am tired of believing the lies.
Tired of regrets
Tired of living in yesterday.
Tired of holding on to what "could have been" for "what WILL SURELY BE."


STOP.

My Hope for Christmas

Christmas is my absolute favorite time of the year.

Picking out the "perfect" tree

Decorating with years of collectible and handmade ornaments

Sitting by the fire watching "It's a Wonderful Life"

Spending time with those I love

It's special.
It's wonder-filled.
It's absolutely magical.

But last year something changed.

Something about the magic was gone.
Something inside of me seemed dead.
Maybe even forever.

I was broken.
Lost.
Hurt.
Scared.

And Christmas seemed to have lost the wonder.

How do you keep seeing through the eyes of a child when you are waiting and waiting and waiting to look into the eyes of your own child?

How do you go through "one more Christmas" without that suckling babe to hold, without hearing that little voice say, "Momma" for the first time, without experiencing the wonder of the next generation in the eyes of your own parents?

And a week before Christmas, out shopping with my mom, I broke.
I sat in the car, poured out my soul, and we cried together.
It wasn't pretty.
It wasn't redemptive.
I couldn't wrap up our conversation into a neat little package with Lesson Well Learned.
It just sucked.....BIG TIME.

And now I find myself a year later...

Still waiting,

Still hoping,

Still dreaming

Of those tiny little hands and feet that will grow our happy couple into a family.

And while much has changed from last year -- renewed hope, restored purpose, rediscovered joy -- I am honestly scared.

What if I lose it again?
What if I cannot hold the longings at bay?
What if I forget his promises in the midst of my own deferred dreams?
What if....??

So my hope for Christmas this year is that where I am weak, He would be strong.

When I am faithless, He would show Himself faithful.

When my eyes are upon ME, He will remind me to look to HIM.

My hope is that I will love others beyond my capacity to give.
My hope is that I can look beyond the surface to the heart of the needs around me.
My hope is that I will rise above my earthly limitations to see THE HOPE for the world
My hope is that my life will radiate that HOPE, even in the midst of the wandering wilderness.

This is my heart cry.
This is my prayer.
This is....

My Hope

Joining with The Faith Barista community this month in Unwrapping Jesus. This week

"My Hope for Christmas this Year."

and

with Emily at Canvas Child sharing my imperfect prose this week