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

The REAL Fairytale

The band begins to play.

"Shall we?" he says as he offers her his hand.

She gently places hers in his.

He leads her to the dance floor.

The budding of unspoken love is palpable as the song continues, and they dance on.

One can almost feel the hearts racing with the surprise of the discovery

as the room seems to swirl around them and then slowly fade away.

And there, in that moment,

That beautiful moment when he looks into her eyes and softly, so that only she can hear, he sings,

"And now you're beside me

and look how far we've come.....

So far.....

we are....

....so close."

As he pulls her close to his heart.

Image Credit

{SIGH}
Okay. I will admit it.
I am a hopeless romantic. Pretty much to the core.
And I make no apologies for that.
NOT. ONE.

I have watched Enchanted more times than I can count, much to my husband's chagrin at times, and yet there are scenes that have yet to NOT make me want to laugh or sing or dance or even cry. My emotions are provoked every time.

I sat today wondering why that is.
Why THIS movie?
With all the beautifully written love stories out there {many of which I also love and adore}, why does this fanciful tale inspire & delight my senses time and time again?

And then I realized.

She doesn't choose the prince.

She doesn't pick the "Happily Ever After," according to the story books, that is.

She had a taste of REAL life, with all of its frailties and woes, and she said YES to that.


YES to the imperfections.
YES to the daily grind of working at love.
YES to the knowledge that I would rather TRY HARD with you,
then REST EASY with anyone else.


Gizelle was not simply in love with the idea of love.
The fantasy that her mind told her was reality.


She changed.


She was transformed beyond imagination and beyond make-believe into a world that was far beyond what her dream could have conjured.

And is that not the essence and beauty of true love?

That moment when you realize that love is more than just a feeling, a crescendo in a song, a one-liner that changes everything.

True love is giving up one's culture for the sake of his love.
True love is showing grace when the object of his affection has none to give.
True love is believing the best even when despair seems imminent.
True love is wading through the hard, icky, stuff that threatens to drown you both.
True love is knowing....this IS not the end....that happily ever after is a choice -- a beautiful, gut-wrenching, powerful, knock-your-socks-off, toe-curling, rest-of-your-life choice.
True love is saying, "It's you-and-me, Baby!" until it becomes so real you cannot help but believe it because the love has become a part of you.

“Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse.

'It's a thing that happens to you.

When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with,

but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.'

Image Credit

Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit.

Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful.

'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.'

Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked, 'or bit by bit?'

It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby.

But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.”

― Margery Williams Bianco, The Velveteen Rabbit

REAL is MY Fairytale.

"I'm Fine" with "My Many Things"

"I was used to you being the one who always reached out, so when you didn't, I just thought that you needed space."

One of my very best friends told me this recently as we were discussing the changes in each of our lives and the subsequent time lapses in our connection.

I had felt that from people, that disconnect. I realized that I had even pulled away in the shadows after leaving full time ministry, battling through infertility, and struggling with daily chronic pain, I removed myself from "the world." And I even felt sorry for myself that people were not reaching out to me in my moments of greatest need when I felt like I had always made the effort to be there for them in their trials.

But her words made me pause and reflect.

And as I have been reading Emily's Grace for the Good Girl, I thought about the "fake fine."

I have heard people talk about that, how we often just say "fine" and smile, and I hated that so I really tried not to do it at all or at least rarely. But then I read a little deeper....

"We praise people who never let on they are suffering....

We praise people who remain strong, no matter their pain."

and then....

"We insult the beauty of intimacy and sometimes even risk our own health for the sake of keeping everything fine."

Wow! Like a slap in the face of my own justifications, I was being so "fine" that I refused to even acknowledge the falseness there in my semantics.

Like Sara in the book, I felt like with all of the aches and pains and hurts, I couldn't talk about them. I felt that I couldn't share them with others, so I would say what I thought people wanted to hear, and when that did not work for me, I simply started avoiding people altogether.

But as I mentioned, I was lonely, and I wanted more.

"I want someone to care. I want someone to call me and ask how I am, but what will be my answer, I'm not sure. I feel like I'm whining if I tell the truth, but I need someone to be my support....but I don't know if they are really interested."

And this was not a new reaction for me. In college, my roommate would tell me, "Lindsey no one has any idea how they deeply they hurt you because in front of them you brush it aside or laugh it off."

I wanted to protect myself from other people -- their words, their indifference, their distraction.

"A lot of my own heartache and struggles with the fake fine mask could be overcome if I simply allowed myself to be honest with God and trust him to lead me in being vulnerable with people....Hiding behind fine in the midst of God and everyone is insulting to the cosmic swing that God set in motion....Trying not to experience the whole spectrum of emotions is like trying to be inhuman....Our fluctuating humanness is there on purpose, to remind us of our need and draw us to the One who can meet it."

I also learned that I have a desire to do "many things" to reach, to achieve, to touch God's heart. Emily refers to this as the conflict between wanting to PLEASE God or choosing to TRUST God. This is what Jesus told Martha about her focus on the busyness of DOING,

"You are worried and bothered about so many things;

but only one thing is necessary,

for Mary has chosen the good part,

which shall not be taken away from her."

{Luke 10:41-42}

"If I am trying to please God, it is difficult to trust God. But when I trust God, pleasing him is automatic. Anything we do to get life and identity outside of Christ is an idol, even service to Christ. He doesn't want my service. He wants me."

As a good girl, my heart started out in the right place -- loving Jesus and wanting to serve Him but after awhile, I added more and more to my plate, people began to rely on me, and suddenly, I was serving from a place of ME and not a place of HIM.

A year off, time away from my old patterns and routines, and A LOT of soul searching and prayer is daily helping me, but I know that I will never quite get it right. And I am okay with that now. Each day I have to remind myself that all of THIS is about Him, loving Him, knowing Him, needing Him.

"So serve. By all means serve. But don't do it from behind a martyr's mask of duty or self-righteous obligation. By faith, believe that you are free to do it from a place of total and complete acceptance by the only One who is extraordinary."

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 4 and 5.

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

Intro & Chapter 1

Chapter 2 & 3

And The Winner Is.....

Congrats to Nancy Franson!!

Winner of the $20 DaySpring gift card....just in time for holiday shopping!!

{Chosen by random.org}

• 
  Nancy FransonCollapse

  That's just so pretty! I counted to 1000 with Ann, and the practice changed my life. So thankful God loves this gray-haired old woman enough to continue to invite me into deeper knowledge of and love for him. Just started a women's Sunday School class and talked about my experience in counting the gifts. Hoping others will take the dare. Thanks for the invite to enter the giveaway. Blessings to you.

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Don't be sad if you did not win. DaySpring is running an amazing special with dozens of items marked down PLUS an extra 30% off with the code SUPER30 through the end of November. Don't miss these great saving on AH-MA-ZING gifts for your whole family!!

I already got my order in, and I am SO excited for the items...over half of my presents have already been purchased! Yay!! Plus a few things just for me! Hehehee...!!

Happy Thanksgiving Weekend! Praying His grace and blessing are so real to you today!!

Five Minute Friday: The Raw Gratitude

Thanksgiving.

A day where we stop to focus on the giving of thanks.

I wrote those words yesterday as I stayed home, stuck in bed from the chronic pain that has been such a part of my skin for these past few years.

I do not talk about it much.

I do not want it to define me.

But it has changed my life.

Changed how I view the world.

And even how the world views me....at least those who knew me "before."

Before life was complicated and yet simpler.

Complicated because I am not sure who or what I am supposed to be anymore.

Simple because I am starting to make decisions more for the right reasons.

"Be true to yourself and to the Lord."

And yet, I felt lonely.

I was supposed to be thankful, grateful, but I found myself wanting, longing for things from the past -- my health, old relationships restored, clear direction for my future.

And today, to be honest, those feelings are still there.

Strong and beating hard inside of me.

And yet, somewhere deep, deep, deep in my soul.

I AM grateful.

Grateful that His grace has found me just where I am.

Grateful that His joy abounds even in my questions.

Grateful that His mercies overflow in the persons of husband, mother, sister.

He is not slack concerning His promises for me...and my life....and my future.

So I am grateful....

for HIM!

I am joining my friend, Lisa-Jo, at The Gypsy Mama with Five Minute Friday -- a place where we just Stop. Drop. and Write. for 5 minutes without editing or revising. It isn't easy, but it is my favorite writing challenge of this week. If you have never joined in, maybe today is YOUR day!! Either way, please hop over and check out the other brave mavericks who dare to put heart on paper in 5 minutes, no holes barred. Scary to do....beautiful to behold!

Happy Friday, all!!

P.S. In the interest of FULL disclosure,

I went "a bit" over 5 minutes today as I wrote out my heart.

Thank you for grace.

**All pictures are from Pinterest.

The Conscience :: The Curse of Being A Good Girl

"You are my conscience."

The voice of my cousin, who also happened to be my childhood and teenage best friend, echoes in my mind from years gone by.

And I guess I was.

Her conscience, that is.

Although I did not really mean to or want to be. I just seemed to always have this innate sense of right and wrong. And I would feel VERY uncomfortable in situations where someone around me planned to tip toe EVEN close to the line. So soon enough, friends counted on me to let them know when they were going to far. Adults expected me to keep those close to me from crossing over. And I wore that mantle with pride.

You see....I AM a Good Girl.


A Recovering Good Girl, that is.

Yeah. I guess it is kind of like being an addict, but not like you would expect.

Emily Freeman in her book, Grace for the Good Girl, walks the reader through the expectations that she put on herself to not only be a good girl, but a good Christian, a good wife, a good mom.

And I felt like she was reading my mail, as they say.
But even more than that, like she had opened up my secret, private diary and exposed the lies that I have bought into for so many years.

"I never seriously considered being a rebel....

I wondered why I couldn't simply lighten up

and have some fun.

But I just didn't have it in me."

"I hated going to street witness.

It was awkward, uncomfortable....

I didn't know any real, relevant answers

to questions people were actually asking.....

I worried because I thought good Christians

enjoyed sharing Jesus with people.

But I didn't.

I felt like I was supposed to share it {the gospel},

but the truth was I didn't really know what it was."

"My insatiable desire to be the perfect wife weighed heavy,

but I was dangerously unaware....

Expectation began to speak:

'Good wives keep a clean house

and don't cry about paint.

Good wives make good food for their hungry men

and anticipate their needs before they have them'

.....Good Wife stood in the corner of my living room

...so put-together,

so strikingly perfect,

and so very ashamed of me."

"As a girl who accepted Jesus at a young age,

I couldn't relate

{to those with testimonies who went from bad to Jesus}.

In fact, I admit to sometimes wishing

I had a few years of rebellion under my belt.

Then my story would be interesting and dramatic too."

I have known for a long time that I am a perfectionist.

I constantly work to overcome that

Or more accurately I constantly try to simply let go.

It is often a daily battle.

*Photo Credit

When I realized that, even more than the perfectionistic voice in my head, the desire to be good, to be pleasing, to be acceptable ruled my very essence, I thought,

"Well, yeah, but I have overcome that...or mostly anyway.....Right?"

However as I read through Emily's transparent words, my mind drifted back to moments and memories where the good girl was solidified inside of me....sometimes through things that were GREAT.

The pastor's award at my Christian school

when I was 8 years old,

when normally only teenagers got that award.

The slightest inflection or inntonation of disappointment

from my parents or any respected authority

could put me into the throws of despair.

In the 4th grade I secretly decided to read a Psalm a day,

and when I got behind,

I felt like a failure, a disappointment to God.

I could barely choke out my confession to my mother,

who had no idea of the pressure I had placed upon myself.

Revelations of His grace in college helped in many beautiful ways

but have never quite curbed the duress that I experience

in my relationships to be THE BEST {insert relationship}

that I can be to that person.

And I think I succeeded in fooling everyone, including myself for years after that, until I got married.

And then Emily's explanation above was me.
I mean REALLY me.

Add to that a bit of psycho personal crazy, random sickness, being in full time ministry, and I thought I had seriously lost my mind. I mean good girls who have prayed for THE ONE, and actually get it {Hello!! God even brought him from Africa to this little town in Pittsville, America, where I was working} DO NOT go into depression.

But I was.
And I did.
And I hated it.
But most of all, I hated myself.

About one year after we said, "I do," Arno's spiritual dad said something that helped opened the cage to the trapped good girl inside of me,

"Lindsey, you are not called to be everyone's wife. You are only called to be Arno's wife."

The words were simple and few. No great power or magnificence in their simplicity, yet that day, they transformed my life.

Arno & I at a car show

{doing something he loves to do}

It was a revelation to me not only in my marriage, but a reminder that I OFTEN give to myself in many relationships.

I do not always get it right
but I am trying,
better yet, I am learning to let go.

I mean, I am a recovering good girl after all.

What about you??

I am linking up with Momma Day by Day and other brave recovering good girls as we journey through Emily P. Freeman's book Grace For the Good Girl and share our journey in {RE}discovering His grace, His heart. I am a bit behind as I had my dear best friend in town last week so my posts may be a slightly different reflection that the other lady linkups, but I have decided to GIVE grace to myself....don't you think that is a good idea??

Would love to hear from YOU!!

Have you read Grace For The Good Girl?

What in this post resonates with "the good girl" in you?