II Timothy 1:7
"For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind."
I grew up in a Christian home and have gone to church as long as I can remember. At the age of 7, my parents took me with them to hear Billy Graham in Portland, Oregon. I can still remember the smell of sawdust on the floor and sitting under a big tent to hear him in one of his first revivals. He said that each person had to make a decision whether to accept the gift of salvation or not. That we cannot get to heaven on our parents beliefs but have to make a personal decision about which way we will go. I felt the Holy Spirit prompting me to walk up that aisle and I did that, even through at that young age I did not fully understand what it would mean to me in my life as I grew up.
From that moment on, I knew that I would never be alone in my life. There have been many times when I needed God and knew that He was there for me.
After I was married, my husband was drafted into the Army. We had only been married five months.
I knew that I would have to live alone and that there was a possibility that my husband might not come back from service in the Army.
I was reading my Bible and discovered the verse in II Tim. 1:7. Every day when I drove to work from our little rental house out in the country, I would start to feel fearful and would recite that verse out loud in the car. It helped me so much. I have needed that verse at many other times in my life when I would feel panic or anxiety about something.
When our son was injured in a motorcycle accident as a teen and we sat in the waiting room of ICU, I remember how that verse came back to me and I would find peace in the promise of God.
Then, when I was going through hospitaliation myself with several surgeries, that verse would come to me. I know that God was with me in those times.
Recently, I have been going through some trials with my mother who is almost 96. She has been in a nursing home for almost two years and even though her mind is still quite good, she had begun to doubt her faith and whether God even hears her prayers anymore. She feels abandoned by God because she wanted to go "home" to be with the Lord but for some reason, He has not taken her from her helpless body.
I just realized that perhaps I was asked to write this because I needed to be reminded of the verse that has helped me for over 40 years. I am going to share that verse with my mother today. I pray that it will help her.
There is another verse that has helped me so much in my life. There have been a lot of heartbreaks in my family, as there is in most families. As I paged through my favorite Bible today, I found a notation by this verse and will share it with my mother, too.
This is the part that really spoke to me today.
Psalm 34:18-19, "The Lord is close to those whose hearts are breaking: The good man (or woman) does not escape all troubles - but the Lord helps him in each and every one."
Friday, August 5, 2011
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
MIM'S STORY - Part 3
I chose to be real.......
Most of the time all I could say was "Oh God, Oh God," or "I'm scared.....
I found safe friends.
They offered their hearts and home whenever I needed them.
They offered to listen and not judge me no matter what I said.
They offered me tears instead of answers.
The offered me time and love instead of suggestions to make me better.
My friends held onto truth for me when I couldn't.
Job said it this way: A despairing man should have the devotion of his friends, even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.
I needed to go to church, to be in a community, especially on the days I didn't feel like it.
I needed to serve.
I needed to read the Bible. All I could do at first was read a few verses over and over. I needed God's comfort and assurance he was with me. The Bible stirred up all kinds of feelings. I found parts of me that were mad at God. Those feelings had to be faced, by reading scripture they were revealed to me. I chose to be real with God. I found out he was willing to meet me where I was. He was faithful.
Finally, I needed to worship. My worship said, I acknowledge you are God...despite what I feel. My circumstances do not affect or define God's goodness.
I'll close with this story:
In the midst of my divorce, I attended a Women's conference in Chicago. I thought it would be fun to go with women from my church. It never occured to me I would see people that weren't current with all that had happened in my life. I was undone at the registration table when someone welcomed me saying, "Oh Mim, how's your baby? I heard you were pregnant."
I smiled and didn't say anything. Only to move onto someone else saying, "OH MIM, I AM SO SORRY. I heard you got divorced."
By the time I was seated, I was a basket case. It was as if I was reliving three years in ten minutes; each innocent but difficult question felt like a stab in my heart. I excused myself and went upstairs to my hotel room where I lay down, broken hearted.
I decided to borrow a car and leave. Then I heard God say, "Mim, that's not how you respond. That's not who you are. You don't run. Stay. I am here with you."
How could I refuse? I went back downstairs and sat like a robot, somehow making it through the first evening. I told the women what was happening, and they prayed for me and cried with me. The next morning I went into the conference with a little peace and some awareness of God.
After a few worship songs, I realized I was singing and worshiping. Suddenly my heart unlocked and I poured out my feelings of self-hatred, anger toward my ex-husband, and distrust of God. I was weak when I was done, but as soon as I finished pouring out my heart I felt God pour His presence into my empty heart with words of mercy.
My whole being was being filled with JOY! I felt JOY for the first time in 3 years. JOY in the midst of deep pain. Joy when bitterness and anger would have been normal.
I was undone, and you know what? It lasted. It wasn't just a weekend or conference experience. The joy carried me through my first broken wedding anniversary. The joy brought me hope and peace. Once again my Jesus was faithful to me. He gave me peace in the midst of deep turmoil, His presence instead of an emptiness.
God asks me to read His word to reveal himself, and He did. God askes me to stay in commnunity and be real and he was able to bring life to me because I was available. God asked me to worship and in one worship session, I experienced more healing than in years of counseling! God asked me to be real, to chose to follow Him. He asks for a good reason.
It is true that what God asks us to do brings us life. God redeems the broken. I am not telling you that I'm perfect or even healed...but I can pass the good news that God is faithful. God keeps His word. He wants and desires a relationship. He was faithful to me. He replaced pain and sorrow with JOY. He planted a deep desire in me to live and live in truth.
My journey into healing followed my conscious decision to say I'm willing to live in pain. I had to decide to do the opposite of what I felt like doing.
Psalm 18 was written by David when his friend Saul was trying to kill him.
6-In my distress I called to the LORD. I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice, my cry came before him, into his ears.
16-He reached down from on high and took hold of me, he drew me out of deep waters.
17-He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me.
19-He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.
Pain demands a response. This is how God responds when we call on Him.
How will you respond? Today choose to move closer to God, to experience His faithfulness, mercy and truth.
Most of the time all I could say was "Oh God, Oh God," or "I'm scared.....
I found safe friends.
They offered their hearts and home whenever I needed them.
They offered to listen and not judge me no matter what I said.
They offered me tears instead of answers.
The offered me time and love instead of suggestions to make me better.
My friends held onto truth for me when I couldn't.
Job said it this way: A despairing man should have the devotion of his friends, even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.
I needed to go to church, to be in a community, especially on the days I didn't feel like it.
I needed to serve.
I needed to read the Bible. All I could do at first was read a few verses over and over. I needed God's comfort and assurance he was with me. The Bible stirred up all kinds of feelings. I found parts of me that were mad at God. Those feelings had to be faced, by reading scripture they were revealed to me. I chose to be real with God. I found out he was willing to meet me where I was. He was faithful.
Finally, I needed to worship. My worship said, I acknowledge you are God...despite what I feel. My circumstances do not affect or define God's goodness.
I'll close with this story:
In the midst of my divorce, I attended a Women's conference in Chicago. I thought it would be fun to go with women from my church. It never occured to me I would see people that weren't current with all that had happened in my life. I was undone at the registration table when someone welcomed me saying, "Oh Mim, how's your baby? I heard you were pregnant."
I smiled and didn't say anything. Only to move onto someone else saying, "OH MIM, I AM SO SORRY. I heard you got divorced."
By the time I was seated, I was a basket case. It was as if I was reliving three years in ten minutes; each innocent but difficult question felt like a stab in my heart. I excused myself and went upstairs to my hotel room where I lay down, broken hearted.
I decided to borrow a car and leave. Then I heard God say, "Mim, that's not how you respond. That's not who you are. You don't run. Stay. I am here with you."
How could I refuse? I went back downstairs and sat like a robot, somehow making it through the first evening. I told the women what was happening, and they prayed for me and cried with me. The next morning I went into the conference with a little peace and some awareness of God.
After a few worship songs, I realized I was singing and worshiping. Suddenly my heart unlocked and I poured out my feelings of self-hatred, anger toward my ex-husband, and distrust of God. I was weak when I was done, but as soon as I finished pouring out my heart I felt God pour His presence into my empty heart with words of mercy.
My whole being was being filled with JOY! I felt JOY for the first time in 3 years. JOY in the midst of deep pain. Joy when bitterness and anger would have been normal.
I was undone, and you know what? It lasted. It wasn't just a weekend or conference experience. The joy carried me through my first broken wedding anniversary. The joy brought me hope and peace. Once again my Jesus was faithful to me. He gave me peace in the midst of deep turmoil, His presence instead of an emptiness.
God asks me to read His word to reveal himself, and He did. God askes me to stay in commnunity and be real and he was able to bring life to me because I was available. God asked me to worship and in one worship session, I experienced more healing than in years of counseling! God asked me to be real, to chose to follow Him. He asks for a good reason.
It is true that what God asks us to do brings us life. God redeems the broken. I am not telling you that I'm perfect or even healed...but I can pass the good news that God is faithful. God keeps His word. He wants and desires a relationship. He was faithful to me. He replaced pain and sorrow with JOY. He planted a deep desire in me to live and live in truth.
My journey into healing followed my conscious decision to say I'm willing to live in pain. I had to decide to do the opposite of what I felt like doing.
Psalm 18 was written by David when his friend Saul was trying to kill him.
6-In my distress I called to the LORD. I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice, my cry came before him, into his ears.
16-He reached down from on high and took hold of me, he drew me out of deep waters.
17-He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me.
19-He brought me out into a spacious place; he rescued me because he delighted in me.
Pain demands a response. This is how God responds when we call on Him.
How will you respond? Today choose to move closer to God, to experience His faithfulness, mercy and truth.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
MIM'S STORY - Part 2
During this time I met a family who accepted me and welcomed me into their hearts and home. I learned about relationships, honesty, trust, vulnerability, safety and unconditional love.
I saw how they responded to pain, I began to understand what it meant to belong to a family, and I stopped reading the romance novels, I did not need them anymore.
I became acquainted with the Vineyard Church. Once again, God revealed himself to me in a greater way. I was ready to experience God's presence. I was ready to experience an intimate relationship with Jesus. I experienced joy and peace and rest in my life. I was building deep and lasting friendships. Each step along the way God revealed more and more of Himself to me. The more I grasped truth, the more I experienced Jesus, I was learning to understand acceptance.
A few years later I was invited to move to Iowa City to help with this church. I quickly became part of the community. I felt healthy and whole. Life was different than I had hoped for. I still longed to be married, but it no longer was my focus. I was happy. I had good friends, an adorable home, and I was learning to love Jesus and others. I lacked nothing. It was at this point that my 'prince' came into my life.
He was handsome, I was beautiful. He had a red convertible and I had perfect hair. He was a Christian. I decided on our 2nd date that I would marry this man, and 9 months later we were married. I was loved and chosen. I had my own family.
On our honeymoon he changed. He changed so much I had to wonder, who is this man? Where did the soft-spoken, kind, Godly man that I used to know go?
I wondered: did I marry my Father? But we had both been single for a long time, and I figured we might need time to adjust. I thought our daily fights might be normal. Within three months of our wedding I had three dreams that my husband left me. These dreams were frightening. I shared them with my husband and he reassured me he would never leave me.
But, what never left was the anger. No conversation or activity was immune to an explosion. I prayed, talked with friends, cried, and tried to get my husband to go to counseling with me. He refused. His anger kept getting worse and worse. Walls, cars, dishes and doors, nothing was safe when he was angry. But, still I hoped. I knew God was good. I knew God was powerful. I remembered the stars. I kept hoping for change.
I became pregnant. Three months later I miscarried. I was in such pain, I thought I would die. I became very depressed. I lost hope. My dream of having children seemed impossible. I could barely hold on. I could only pray,"Oh God, Oh God". My friends offered me comfort and faith. I felt God holding me and my tears.
My marriage did not improve. My husband, my prince, the man I had long dreamed of, had turned into a creature from a nightmare. Our home was a war zone, and I feared I was losing my mind. I remembered the dreams of my husband leaving and I wondered if God was graciously preparing my heart for the end of my marriage.
One day, after yet another explosion of anger, I couldn't stop shaking. I knew I needed to do something drastic. I was not safe. I asked him to move out of our home and he refused. He responded with denial and blame instead of repentance and reconcilliation. If he was staying, I had to leave, so I left within a half hour with two laundry baskets of my belongings and my dog. I was homeless and more alone than before.
Following counsel of my pastors and people I trusted, I knew staying with him would be a lie. My only option was to live in truth and acknowledge he had broken our wedding vows. I had to chose LIFE.
On Sept. 1, 2004, my marriage ended. My prince was no more. Actually, my prince never was. It's hard to put into words the emotions that coursed through my veins. Yet, in the midst of the sorrow and anger, I realized I had choices. I could blame God, or myself. I could withdraw from friends and from my church, I could give up and move away. But none of these seemed right. I did not want my life to be based on lies or shame. I had to decide which I would live in. Would I choose fantasy or would I face the truth?
Somewhere deep inside me a cry was recognized. LIVE! I didn't know if I would make it, I wondered if I would ever experience joy again. Once again, in God's mercy, He revealed himself to me, in many ways. One was through the Bible, the story of Jabez. Jabez's story is found in a couple of verses, hidden in the middle of a long geneology.
I Chronicles 4:9-10 states; Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez saying, "I gave birth to him in pain". Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, "Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain. And God granted him his request."
Jabez was given the family idenity of pain. Can you imagine his childhood? Can "Pain" come out and play? What about his marriage proposal? Will you marry me? Would you like to live with "pain" your whole life?
In the old testament, your name was your idenity, Yet Jabez knew God called out for a new idenity. He asked God to enlarge his territory, and scripture tells us God granted his request. I found hope in this. I thought, I do not want an idenity based on pain.
God hear my cry, hear my request. Broaden my territory, open my heart to more than what I have been given. Don't let me stay in the anger forever. Let me live life again.
I felt God say to me, "You've seen what happens when pain is not faced. You have a relationship with me, you have a family, a community...walk this journey with them. I will grant you your request."
Here's how God had me walk this out.....
(To be continued)
I saw how they responded to pain, I began to understand what it meant to belong to a family, and I stopped reading the romance novels, I did not need them anymore.
I became acquainted with the Vineyard Church. Once again, God revealed himself to me in a greater way. I was ready to experience God's presence. I was ready to experience an intimate relationship with Jesus. I experienced joy and peace and rest in my life. I was building deep and lasting friendships. Each step along the way God revealed more and more of Himself to me. The more I grasped truth, the more I experienced Jesus, I was learning to understand acceptance.
A few years later I was invited to move to Iowa City to help with this church. I quickly became part of the community. I felt healthy and whole. Life was different than I had hoped for. I still longed to be married, but it no longer was my focus. I was happy. I had good friends, an adorable home, and I was learning to love Jesus and others. I lacked nothing. It was at this point that my 'prince' came into my life.
He was handsome, I was beautiful. He had a red convertible and I had perfect hair. He was a Christian. I decided on our 2nd date that I would marry this man, and 9 months later we were married. I was loved and chosen. I had my own family.
On our honeymoon he changed. He changed so much I had to wonder, who is this man? Where did the soft-spoken, kind, Godly man that I used to know go?
I wondered: did I marry my Father? But we had both been single for a long time, and I figured we might need time to adjust. I thought our daily fights might be normal. Within three months of our wedding I had three dreams that my husband left me. These dreams were frightening. I shared them with my husband and he reassured me he would never leave me.
But, what never left was the anger. No conversation or activity was immune to an explosion. I prayed, talked with friends, cried, and tried to get my husband to go to counseling with me. He refused. His anger kept getting worse and worse. Walls, cars, dishes and doors, nothing was safe when he was angry. But, still I hoped. I knew God was good. I knew God was powerful. I remembered the stars. I kept hoping for change.
I became pregnant. Three months later I miscarried. I was in such pain, I thought I would die. I became very depressed. I lost hope. My dream of having children seemed impossible. I could barely hold on. I could only pray,"Oh God, Oh God". My friends offered me comfort and faith. I felt God holding me and my tears.
My marriage did not improve. My husband, my prince, the man I had long dreamed of, had turned into a creature from a nightmare. Our home was a war zone, and I feared I was losing my mind. I remembered the dreams of my husband leaving and I wondered if God was graciously preparing my heart for the end of my marriage.
One day, after yet another explosion of anger, I couldn't stop shaking. I knew I needed to do something drastic. I was not safe. I asked him to move out of our home and he refused. He responded with denial and blame instead of repentance and reconcilliation. If he was staying, I had to leave, so I left within a half hour with two laundry baskets of my belongings and my dog. I was homeless and more alone than before.
Following counsel of my pastors and people I trusted, I knew staying with him would be a lie. My only option was to live in truth and acknowledge he had broken our wedding vows. I had to chose LIFE.
On Sept. 1, 2004, my marriage ended. My prince was no more. Actually, my prince never was. It's hard to put into words the emotions that coursed through my veins. Yet, in the midst of the sorrow and anger, I realized I had choices. I could blame God, or myself. I could withdraw from friends and from my church, I could give up and move away. But none of these seemed right. I did not want my life to be based on lies or shame. I had to decide which I would live in. Would I choose fantasy or would I face the truth?
Somewhere deep inside me a cry was recognized. LIVE! I didn't know if I would make it, I wondered if I would ever experience joy again. Once again, in God's mercy, He revealed himself to me, in many ways. One was through the Bible, the story of Jabez. Jabez's story is found in a couple of verses, hidden in the middle of a long geneology.
I Chronicles 4:9-10 states; Jabez was more honorable than his brothers. His mother had named him Jabez saying, "I gave birth to him in pain". Jabez cried out to the God of Israel, "Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep me from harm so that I will be free from pain. And God granted him his request."
Jabez was given the family idenity of pain. Can you imagine his childhood? Can "Pain" come out and play? What about his marriage proposal? Will you marry me? Would you like to live with "pain" your whole life?
In the old testament, your name was your idenity, Yet Jabez knew God called out for a new idenity. He asked God to enlarge his territory, and scripture tells us God granted his request. I found hope in this. I thought, I do not want an idenity based on pain.
God hear my cry, hear my request. Broaden my territory, open my heart to more than what I have been given. Don't let me stay in the anger forever. Let me live life again.
I felt God say to me, "You've seen what happens when pain is not faced. You have a relationship with me, you have a family, a community...walk this journey with them. I will grant you your request."
Here's how God had me walk this out.....
(To be continued)
Monday, July 18, 2011
MIM'S STORY - Part 1
This is my story: My knowedge of my biological mother is limited to a few facts.
*She was 16 years old when I was born
*5 feet 5 and a half inches tall
*120 lbs.
*A sophmore in High School
*Blonde hair and blue eyes, and a cheerleader
She gave me the gift of life, for which I am thankful. When I was born, I was put up for adoption. The family that adopted me had experienced a lot of pain; three miscarrages and the birth of a full-term stillborn baby boy. Instead of a family, they had an empty home and empty arms, which they tried to fill by adopting a baby boy and them by adopting me.
It seems that my new mother and I should have been a perfect answer for each others need. But when I was placed in her arms, I cried. Her embrace was unfamiliar and unwelcome. My new mother felt rejected, and I was learning to be alone within my new family.
We looked like this conservative Christian family, with a stay-at-home mom and a pastor dad, and two adopted kids. Later my parents were shocked when they had 2 more kids of their own. We looked like the model family in our station wagon, off to church every Sunday, but the truth was my childhood was filled with abuse, hidden behind a pulpit.
My father had been beaten and abused verbally. He in turn, beat and abused both my brother and me - the family scapegoats. I lived in constant terror, never knowing what might trigger a beating. My punishments were swift and severe. Both of my parents held me down, and my father beat me until his anger passed. I tried not to cry or make a sound. Yet my mind was full of unspoken screams for help.
The beatings seemed linked to my adoption. I heard my parents say, "We didn't have to adopt you. How could you be such a disloyal daughter?" My adoption was thrown back into my face, like toxic waste.
Between the adoption and the environment I lived in, I never felt loved or wanted or accepted. I longed to be held and appreciated. I wanted to belong and to feel safe. If I had played the word association game with you and you had said adoption, I would have instantly said "rejection" The word acceptance never would have crossed my mind.
In the book of Mark in the Bible, we learn that Jesus's family doesn't like what he is doing. He had been healing the sick, forgiving sins, and casting out demons. His family thinks he is crazy. On day Jesus's friends tell him his family has arrived, but Jesus replied, "Who are my mother and brother?" I used to think that was the strangest answer, until I realized Jesus was using this opportunity to give new meaning to the word 'family'.
Mark continues, "Looking at those sitting with him, Jesus said, here is my mother and brothers. Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother. The ones close to him became his family.
This was a radical idea in the first century because they would never redefine your family. Family was your idenity and that couldn't change. But with Jesus, God's family was no longer limited to the blood line of Abraham. Family was defined by knowing Him.
I believe God, in His mercy, offered my parents a chance to understand family in a new way. I believe the pain my father had experienced from his childhood could have been turned into an opportunity for God to bring healing. An opportunity for my dad to embrace truth, to embrace a new type of fatherhood, but he chose otherwise.
As a child, I looked up into the sky and saw the stars and I knew whoever had hung the stars in the sky was big and powerful. It made me feel safe to know that there was someone bigger than my father. God was revealing His heart to me.
I saw the beauty of the sky and believed the creator of such beauty must be good. I felt comforted in knowing someone good was holding up the stars.
No matter how rough my life was, the stars were there to instill hope and a quiet peace when I looked at them. No one in my world could take the stars away.
God was breathing His life in me and I didn't know it.
Ezekiel 16:4-8 says:
On the day you were born your cord was not cut, nor were you washed with water to make you clean, nor were you rubbed with salt or wrapped in cloths.
No one looked on you with pity or had compassion enough to do any of these things for you. Rather, you were thrown out into the open field, for on the day you were born you were despised. Then I passed by and saw you kicking about in your blood, and as you lay there in your blood I said to you, Live!
God gave me the desire to go on. To live. The beatings lessened as I got bigger.
But the damage had been done. I had learned to shut off my emotions. I tuned out words and whole converstions and eventually entire decades of my life.
All I did was go to church and read Christian romance novels. I read about a Perfect Christian woman with perfect hair, who fainted from hunger because she gave her food to her dying mother. And the richest young man drove by in his red convertible and saw her faint on the sidewalk. Struck by her lovely raven black hair cascading around her like a halo, he carried her to his car and took her home. He was not a Christian, but on the last page, just three paragraphs from the end he became a Christian and then 2 paragraphs from the end he proposed and then in the last paragraph they kissed for the first time. Then they lived happily every after....
The romance novels I read had filled my heart and mind with lies about love. Over the years I consumed hundreds of them. I couldn't explain the longing in my heart, but the books filled a need. The problem was the 'fix' didn't last. As soon as a book was done, the 'fix' ended.
I wanted to be married, yet I had no idea what marriage meant.
I had been out of college for a couple of years when my 5th or 6th Prince Charming left me. As he was walking out the door, he turned to me and said, "You should get counseling!"
Counseling helped me see truth. I looked seriously at my life for the first time. Over the next few years I became undone and redone.
I started to understand the wrongs done to me. I started to understand my father and I started to see God. I was overcome with the knowledge that God understood where I had been and that He loved me. I recognized how He had been with me as I looked at the stars and that it was a miracle I was still alive. I knew He wanted me to live, to live abundantly. I began to do that.
To be continued
*She was 16 years old when I was born
*5 feet 5 and a half inches tall
*120 lbs.
*A sophmore in High School
*Blonde hair and blue eyes, and a cheerleader
She gave me the gift of life, for which I am thankful. When I was born, I was put up for adoption. The family that adopted me had experienced a lot of pain; three miscarrages and the birth of a full-term stillborn baby boy. Instead of a family, they had an empty home and empty arms, which they tried to fill by adopting a baby boy and them by adopting me.
It seems that my new mother and I should have been a perfect answer for each others need. But when I was placed in her arms, I cried. Her embrace was unfamiliar and unwelcome. My new mother felt rejected, and I was learning to be alone within my new family.
We looked like this conservative Christian family, with a stay-at-home mom and a pastor dad, and two adopted kids. Later my parents were shocked when they had 2 more kids of their own. We looked like the model family in our station wagon, off to church every Sunday, but the truth was my childhood was filled with abuse, hidden behind a pulpit.
My father had been beaten and abused verbally. He in turn, beat and abused both my brother and me - the family scapegoats. I lived in constant terror, never knowing what might trigger a beating. My punishments were swift and severe. Both of my parents held me down, and my father beat me until his anger passed. I tried not to cry or make a sound. Yet my mind was full of unspoken screams for help.
The beatings seemed linked to my adoption. I heard my parents say, "We didn't have to adopt you. How could you be such a disloyal daughter?" My adoption was thrown back into my face, like toxic waste.
Between the adoption and the environment I lived in, I never felt loved or wanted or accepted. I longed to be held and appreciated. I wanted to belong and to feel safe. If I had played the word association game with you and you had said adoption, I would have instantly said "rejection" The word acceptance never would have crossed my mind.
In the book of Mark in the Bible, we learn that Jesus's family doesn't like what he is doing. He had been healing the sick, forgiving sins, and casting out demons. His family thinks he is crazy. On day Jesus's friends tell him his family has arrived, but Jesus replied, "Who are my mother and brother?" I used to think that was the strangest answer, until I realized Jesus was using this opportunity to give new meaning to the word 'family'.
Mark continues, "Looking at those sitting with him, Jesus said, here is my mother and brothers. Whoever does the will of God is my brother and sister and mother. The ones close to him became his family.
This was a radical idea in the first century because they would never redefine your family. Family was your idenity and that couldn't change. But with Jesus, God's family was no longer limited to the blood line of Abraham. Family was defined by knowing Him.
I believe God, in His mercy, offered my parents a chance to understand family in a new way. I believe the pain my father had experienced from his childhood could have been turned into an opportunity for God to bring healing. An opportunity for my dad to embrace truth, to embrace a new type of fatherhood, but he chose otherwise.
As a child, I looked up into the sky and saw the stars and I knew whoever had hung the stars in the sky was big and powerful. It made me feel safe to know that there was someone bigger than my father. God was revealing His heart to me.
I saw the beauty of the sky and believed the creator of such beauty must be good. I felt comforted in knowing someone good was holding up the stars.
No matter how rough my life was, the stars were there to instill hope and a quiet peace when I looked at them. No one in my world could take the stars away.
God was breathing His life in me and I didn't know it.
Ezekiel 16:4-8 says:
On the day you were born your cord was not cut, nor were you washed with water to make you clean, nor were you rubbed with salt or wrapped in cloths.
No one looked on you with pity or had compassion enough to do any of these things for you. Rather, you were thrown out into the open field, for on the day you were born you were despised. Then I passed by and saw you kicking about in your blood, and as you lay there in your blood I said to you, Live!
God gave me the desire to go on. To live. The beatings lessened as I got bigger.
But the damage had been done. I had learned to shut off my emotions. I tuned out words and whole converstions and eventually entire decades of my life.
All I did was go to church and read Christian romance novels. I read about a Perfect Christian woman with perfect hair, who fainted from hunger because she gave her food to her dying mother. And the richest young man drove by in his red convertible and saw her faint on the sidewalk. Struck by her lovely raven black hair cascading around her like a halo, he carried her to his car and took her home. He was not a Christian, but on the last page, just three paragraphs from the end he became a Christian and then 2 paragraphs from the end he proposed and then in the last paragraph they kissed for the first time. Then they lived happily every after....
The romance novels I read had filled my heart and mind with lies about love. Over the years I consumed hundreds of them. I couldn't explain the longing in my heart, but the books filled a need. The problem was the 'fix' didn't last. As soon as a book was done, the 'fix' ended.
I wanted to be married, yet I had no idea what marriage meant.
I had been out of college for a couple of years when my 5th or 6th Prince Charming left me. As he was walking out the door, he turned to me and said, "You should get counseling!"
Counseling helped me see truth. I looked seriously at my life for the first time. Over the next few years I became undone and redone.
I started to understand the wrongs done to me. I started to understand my father and I started to see God. I was overcome with the knowledge that God understood where I had been and that He loved me. I recognized how He had been with me as I looked at the stars and that it was a miracle I was still alive. I knew He wanted me to live, to live abundantly. I began to do that.
To be continued
Friday, April 1, 2011
JANE'S STORY Part 2
Psalm 120 says, "In my distress I cried unto thee O Lord and He heard Me." As we drove from the back roads onto the only highway back to the resort, I stretched my legs out to the front seat just as a police car drove by. It slowed down to drive along side of us, as I noticed it there I got a very heavy feeling in my heart. The police put on the siren and flashing lights and pulled us over.
We were not sure why, but we knew they knew we were not natives. Leon went up to the car knowing the poice are corrupt and expect a pay off, he shook the police officer's hand and gave him money, he then went around to the other side and did the same to the other officer. He reached into his pocket and offered more money. Leon came back to the van, I asked if we were OK, he asked for money and went back up to offer more. Leon then came back to the van and took his drivers license and registration papers and his license plate to the police. During this confortation the two officers in the police car were both holding up machine guns. Our driver was so frightened he had sweat soak right through his shirt, my daughter and I were becoming very alarmed.
Leon came back to the van, I thought it was all over, but then I realized Leon did not get his paperwork back from the police. The sirens and flashing lights started again and we were expected to follow. We were led down the highway then turned onto a side road. We drove for a distance down the road; there were no houses, no buildings, it was an abandoned road. The police vehicle stopped at the side of the road at the edge of a cliff. Leon took more money, reached under the seat and placed a hand gun on the seat and went up to bribe the officer again. The other officer got out of the car; he was swinging around a machine gun and started to circle our van. I thought to myself, what good is that little hand gun on the seat when they have machine guns. I was now very afraid for our lives. I had a cell phone on me, I tried calling back to the resort, no signal, I tried to call the representative who had made the contact for us, and he had said if we had a translation problem we should call him. Well, I certainly thought this was a translation problem. But still no signal.
Leon was now arguing with the officer, arms flying and I am thinking this does not look good! I am thinking, "please Leon, don't fight with him, it will make it worse." I looked at the gun on the seat; I thought I knew what I needed to do. I was afraid we would be shot, but then I thought what if they torture or rape my daughter before they shoot us? If they just executed us it would be fast but to watch them beat or rape my young daughter I could not handle that. I looked at the gun again and thought I needed to shoot my daughter and myself. But, what if there is only one bullet, what if I live and she doesn't, can I live with that? How could I shoot my own daughter, would it come to that? I took my daughter into my arms, I told her I loved her, I was proud of her, she had done a wonderful thing for these children, she was an amazing person, we had put a smile on the face of those children, and I believed she had made a difference in their lives, but I did not think we would make it back to Canada. I held her and tried not to cry, I tried to be strong because I was the Mom. I felt so guilty for getting her into this situation. With very little hope, I picked up the cell phone and called home to Canada, I just wanted to talk to my husband one more time, I was not going to tell him what was happening, but I just wanted to hear his voice. I looked out the side of the van and could not see to the bottom of the revine. I wondered if there were any other bodies down there. The call went through...it rang then went dead. I looked at my daughter and said I think this is a sign, I think we are going to make it. I began to pray, I prayed to God, I prayed not for myself but for my daughter, I had lived half my life she was just starting her adult life. I prayed to God and asked for my daughter's life, I prayed to God our Father, "Please God, Please!"
Psalm 102: 1-2 "Hear my prayer, O Lord and let my cry come unto thee. Hide not thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble, incline thine ear unto me in the day when I call, answer me speedily."
At the lowest point in my life, when I thought there was no hope, my prayer was answered. Father God came to us that day; He guided us out of that terrifying situation. I am forever grateful. My faith has been strengthening, and renewed. My prayer was answered. It was an overwhelming day, and unforgettable day, a day with a new beginning for me.
Psalm 6:9-10, the power of prayer has overcome enemies.
My prayer was answered, the police finally let us go, they drove away with almost all of our money, Leon had his paperwork back, the gun was put back under the seat and we drove home in silence holding each other's hand. My daugher was sick to her stomach and had diarrhea for two days, she was terrified and vowed never to go back to the Dominican, ever.
The power of prayer should not be underestimated. A renewal of faith is not just an increase of faith and strength but something we experience throughout our lives. It is an ongoing development, an awakening in the heart. It was unfortunate I had to experience such a near death, terrifying situation to start my journey again. Yes, faith is a gift, one I was blessed to have. It's personal but let it's beauty shine through us, throughout life in everything we do.
The power of prayer and the gift of faith are amazing. Our faith is strengthened through prayer and reading God's word. Your faith is between you and God but it's what you do with it that counts. Meet each day with positivity and confidence; meet your life's challenges knowing the love of Father God. I see life a little different now, and I thank God. May God bless you and remember you have the power to make a difference. We may stumble but believe God is with us always, my friend.
Thank you for listening, May God shine on you, Jane xo
We were not sure why, but we knew they knew we were not natives. Leon went up to the car knowing the poice are corrupt and expect a pay off, he shook the police officer's hand and gave him money, he then went around to the other side and did the same to the other officer. He reached into his pocket and offered more money. Leon came back to the van, I asked if we were OK, he asked for money and went back up to offer more. Leon then came back to the van and took his drivers license and registration papers and his license plate to the police. During this confortation the two officers in the police car were both holding up machine guns. Our driver was so frightened he had sweat soak right through his shirt, my daughter and I were becoming very alarmed.
Leon came back to the van, I thought it was all over, but then I realized Leon did not get his paperwork back from the police. The sirens and flashing lights started again and we were expected to follow. We were led down the highway then turned onto a side road. We drove for a distance down the road; there were no houses, no buildings, it was an abandoned road. The police vehicle stopped at the side of the road at the edge of a cliff. Leon took more money, reached under the seat and placed a hand gun on the seat and went up to bribe the officer again. The other officer got out of the car; he was swinging around a machine gun and started to circle our van. I thought to myself, what good is that little hand gun on the seat when they have machine guns. I was now very afraid for our lives. I had a cell phone on me, I tried calling back to the resort, no signal, I tried to call the representative who had made the contact for us, and he had said if we had a translation problem we should call him. Well, I certainly thought this was a translation problem. But still no signal.
Leon was now arguing with the officer, arms flying and I am thinking this does not look good! I am thinking, "please Leon, don't fight with him, it will make it worse." I looked at the gun on the seat; I thought I knew what I needed to do. I was afraid we would be shot, but then I thought what if they torture or rape my daughter before they shoot us? If they just executed us it would be fast but to watch them beat or rape my young daughter I could not handle that. I looked at the gun again and thought I needed to shoot my daughter and myself. But, what if there is only one bullet, what if I live and she doesn't, can I live with that? How could I shoot my own daughter, would it come to that? I took my daughter into my arms, I told her I loved her, I was proud of her, she had done a wonderful thing for these children, she was an amazing person, we had put a smile on the face of those children, and I believed she had made a difference in their lives, but I did not think we would make it back to Canada. I held her and tried not to cry, I tried to be strong because I was the Mom. I felt so guilty for getting her into this situation. With very little hope, I picked up the cell phone and called home to Canada, I just wanted to talk to my husband one more time, I was not going to tell him what was happening, but I just wanted to hear his voice. I looked out the side of the van and could not see to the bottom of the revine. I wondered if there were any other bodies down there. The call went through...it rang then went dead. I looked at my daughter and said I think this is a sign, I think we are going to make it. I began to pray, I prayed to God, I prayed not for myself but for my daughter, I had lived half my life she was just starting her adult life. I prayed to God and asked for my daughter's life, I prayed to God our Father, "Please God, Please!"
Psalm 102: 1-2 "Hear my prayer, O Lord and let my cry come unto thee. Hide not thy face from me in the day when I am in trouble, incline thine ear unto me in the day when I call, answer me speedily."
At the lowest point in my life, when I thought there was no hope, my prayer was answered. Father God came to us that day; He guided us out of that terrifying situation. I am forever grateful. My faith has been strengthening, and renewed. My prayer was answered. It was an overwhelming day, and unforgettable day, a day with a new beginning for me.
Psalm 6:9-10, the power of prayer has overcome enemies.
My prayer was answered, the police finally let us go, they drove away with almost all of our money, Leon had his paperwork back, the gun was put back under the seat and we drove home in silence holding each other's hand. My daugher was sick to her stomach and had diarrhea for two days, she was terrified and vowed never to go back to the Dominican, ever.
The power of prayer should not be underestimated. A renewal of faith is not just an increase of faith and strength but something we experience throughout our lives. It is an ongoing development, an awakening in the heart. It was unfortunate I had to experience such a near death, terrifying situation to start my journey again. Yes, faith is a gift, one I was blessed to have. It's personal but let it's beauty shine through us, throughout life in everything we do.
The power of prayer and the gift of faith are amazing. Our faith is strengthened through prayer and reading God's word. Your faith is between you and God but it's what you do with it that counts. Meet each day with positivity and confidence; meet your life's challenges knowing the love of Father God. I see life a little different now, and I thank God. May God bless you and remember you have the power to make a difference. We may stumble but believe God is with us always, my friend.
Thank you for listening, May God shine on you, Jane xo
Thursday, March 31, 2011
JANE'S STORY - Part 1
This is a story of the renewal of Faith from the power of Prayer. My name is Jane; I grew up on a farm in a family of ten. I was raised in a Christian home, I have been a believer for a very long time, but this experience certainly impacted my life.
We have all stumbled at sometime in our lives, some of us more than others. We have had experiences where we said, "Why me Lord?" or "Why not me Lord?" Times when we thought God was not with us, when our faith was sitting on the fence and then at our lowest point the power of prayer confirms and renews our faith. I would like to share an incident in my life when through a desperate prayer my faith was strengthened and it quietly changed my life, my priorties and the realization that I was blessed in more ways than I could admitt. Outwardly I don't look differently, but inside I have a quiet comfort, strength, belief, optimism, contentment, love, calm, fulfulment, satisfaction and a stronger faith. It is said that faith is a gift. Hebrews 11:1,3 says "now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Through faith we understand."
The year my daughter graduated with her Honours BA I invited her on a holiday, the destination was her choice. She decided she would like to see the school she had raised money to build in a third world country. The school had been built in the remote mountain region in the Dominican Republic near the Haitian border. Our tickets were bought and we had filled four extra suitcases with school supplies and hygiene items as well as toys. We tried to coordinate transportation to the location before leaving Canada but continually hit roadblocks and decided we would deal with it upon arrival in the Dominican.
Once at our resort, we asked at the front desk if they could arrange to take us to the location of the school, but the answer was "No"! They stated they lived in this country and they would not go into the mountain region. We attended the information sessions at our resort, we asked our travel representative if he could help us to arrange transportation to the school. He told us his company would not permit him to arrange such a trip but before the session was over, he came to tell us he may have a contact to take us where we wanted to go.
So the contact was made, American dollars were paid in advance and we were set to leave the next morning at 8:00 A.M. in order to make it back before dark. It was to be a 3-3 1/2 hour drive to the area, Leon was to be our driver and interrupter. The resort took our pictures, pictures of our bags of supplies and teacher's supplies and pictures of the van and driver. Then we had to write down where we were going and at what time we would return. The manager made it known he was not happy we were going and he would not be responsible for us. We assured him we were going and this was our sole purpose for the trip.
So off we went, just outside of the resort I asked the driver if he could possibly get us to our destination in less than three hours. You can imagine the look on our faces when Leon looked at us and said, "I don't understand, I don't speak English!" Well, my daughter is an amazing girl, she had her Spanish dictionary with her and she was able to converse with our well paid driver.
The drive was horrendous, up and down, dust, extreme heat, no air conditioning, the smell of gas, roads which were more like trails, and we just kept climbing and climbing. I thought we would never get there, the heat and motion sickness got to me. I was sick to my stomach until there was nothing left but dry heaves and I was regretting having the big breakfast offered by the resort. Thank God I had a plastic bag with me, but that just added to the unplesant smell in the van.
Finally we arrived in the small village, but could not find the school. One person would tell us to go one way, the next would send us back the same way, then we were told to go futher up the hill, there didn't seem to be any street names. Finally we came across a school area, my daughter and I waited in the van while the driver went down to the building to bring someone up to talk to us. The village appeared deserted, then two little girls came along and my daugher decided to hop out and give them each a backpack of supplies. Within minutes we were swarmed by people who came out of nowhere. My daughter was pushed up against the van and teens were grabbing things out of the back of the van where I was standing with the hatch up. Leon was a big man and came to our rescue, he came back with a teacher who soon regained order and had everyone line up to receive a back pack. This deserted village suddenly had 60 or 70 kids and adults lined up down the hill towards the school. We soon realized we did not have enough backpacks to give one to each child, so we started opening them and giving 1 or 2 items to each child. We talked to the children and handed out many items, then showed the teacher the supplies we had for them. They were very excited; they said their Government would never give them this amount of supplies in five years. They taught their classes verbally, little or no writing materials were available. We were given a tour of the school buildings and the children sang songs and were delighted to see their pictures in the camera. The school rooms were very,very simple, but the kids were proud to show us around. They were thankful for the school supplies and toys we had brought, the paper and pen and pencils were the biggest hit. We brought class sets of notebooks for the teachers; one Teacher hugged her package in her arms and never set them down the whole time we were there. She was so excited to have workbooks for the children.
We stayed a couple of hours then needed to get back on the road in order to arrive back before dark. We were overwhelmed by our experience of the day and started our long drive back to the resort.
The next day we deceided we would like to go back to the school one more time. It took some arranging to find Leon again, and set up the journey back, but once the contact was made he replied, "Oh yes, I take the sonoritas, they pay me good money!"
So off we went for the second time, two days after our first visit. Thank God, I ate a light breakfast of toast and tea and was able to keep it down during the trip. The money was paid, Leon was happy and we were better at communicating with each other. The winding, rutted roads did not change be we arrived back at the school in record time, 3 hours, 10 minutes.
Once again the village looked empty, but once they saw these light skinned ladies, whose arms they loved to touch, we had a warm welcome. They remembered us, we had a following everywhere we went, even the Elders came to hug us and say "Good morning". We were shown in their homes, we saw the single pig that was the meat supply for the village, the chickens that run around everywhere, and the skinny dogs that were plentiful. The children had the day off from school for some reason. This worked to our advantage because we had the day to spend with them and get to know them. The kids were amazing, they sang songs for us, did cartwheels and danced, they were so excited to entertain us. We got some terrific pictures, faces I will never forget. As we prepared to leave we thought we had had an eye opening experience, an amazing day. Little did we know that our trip home would change our lives forever.
We have all stumbled at sometime in our lives, some of us more than others. We have had experiences where we said, "Why me Lord?" or "Why not me Lord?" Times when we thought God was not with us, when our faith was sitting on the fence and then at our lowest point the power of prayer confirms and renews our faith. I would like to share an incident in my life when through a desperate prayer my faith was strengthened and it quietly changed my life, my priorties and the realization that I was blessed in more ways than I could admitt. Outwardly I don't look differently, but inside I have a quiet comfort, strength, belief, optimism, contentment, love, calm, fulfulment, satisfaction and a stronger faith. It is said that faith is a gift. Hebrews 11:1,3 says "now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. Through faith we understand."
The year my daughter graduated with her Honours BA I invited her on a holiday, the destination was her choice. She decided she would like to see the school she had raised money to build in a third world country. The school had been built in the remote mountain region in the Dominican Republic near the Haitian border. Our tickets were bought and we had filled four extra suitcases with school supplies and hygiene items as well as toys. We tried to coordinate transportation to the location before leaving Canada but continually hit roadblocks and decided we would deal with it upon arrival in the Dominican.
Once at our resort, we asked at the front desk if they could arrange to take us to the location of the school, but the answer was "No"! They stated they lived in this country and they would not go into the mountain region. We attended the information sessions at our resort, we asked our travel representative if he could help us to arrange transportation to the school. He told us his company would not permit him to arrange such a trip but before the session was over, he came to tell us he may have a contact to take us where we wanted to go.
So the contact was made, American dollars were paid in advance and we were set to leave the next morning at 8:00 A.M. in order to make it back before dark. It was to be a 3-3 1/2 hour drive to the area, Leon was to be our driver and interrupter. The resort took our pictures, pictures of our bags of supplies and teacher's supplies and pictures of the van and driver. Then we had to write down where we were going and at what time we would return. The manager made it known he was not happy we were going and he would not be responsible for us. We assured him we were going and this was our sole purpose for the trip.
So off we went, just outside of the resort I asked the driver if he could possibly get us to our destination in less than three hours. You can imagine the look on our faces when Leon looked at us and said, "I don't understand, I don't speak English!" Well, my daughter is an amazing girl, she had her Spanish dictionary with her and she was able to converse with our well paid driver.
The drive was horrendous, up and down, dust, extreme heat, no air conditioning, the smell of gas, roads which were more like trails, and we just kept climbing and climbing. I thought we would never get there, the heat and motion sickness got to me. I was sick to my stomach until there was nothing left but dry heaves and I was regretting having the big breakfast offered by the resort. Thank God I had a plastic bag with me, but that just added to the unplesant smell in the van.
Finally we arrived in the small village, but could not find the school. One person would tell us to go one way, the next would send us back the same way, then we were told to go futher up the hill, there didn't seem to be any street names. Finally we came across a school area, my daughter and I waited in the van while the driver went down to the building to bring someone up to talk to us. The village appeared deserted, then two little girls came along and my daugher decided to hop out and give them each a backpack of supplies. Within minutes we were swarmed by people who came out of nowhere. My daughter was pushed up against the van and teens were grabbing things out of the back of the van where I was standing with the hatch up. Leon was a big man and came to our rescue, he came back with a teacher who soon regained order and had everyone line up to receive a back pack. This deserted village suddenly had 60 or 70 kids and adults lined up down the hill towards the school. We soon realized we did not have enough backpacks to give one to each child, so we started opening them and giving 1 or 2 items to each child. We talked to the children and handed out many items, then showed the teacher the supplies we had for them. They were very excited; they said their Government would never give them this amount of supplies in five years. They taught their classes verbally, little or no writing materials were available. We were given a tour of the school buildings and the children sang songs and were delighted to see their pictures in the camera. The school rooms were very,very simple, but the kids were proud to show us around. They were thankful for the school supplies and toys we had brought, the paper and pen and pencils were the biggest hit. We brought class sets of notebooks for the teachers; one Teacher hugged her package in her arms and never set them down the whole time we were there. She was so excited to have workbooks for the children.
We stayed a couple of hours then needed to get back on the road in order to arrive back before dark. We were overwhelmed by our experience of the day and started our long drive back to the resort.
The next day we deceided we would like to go back to the school one more time. It took some arranging to find Leon again, and set up the journey back, but once the contact was made he replied, "Oh yes, I take the sonoritas, they pay me good money!"
So off we went for the second time, two days after our first visit. Thank God, I ate a light breakfast of toast and tea and was able to keep it down during the trip. The money was paid, Leon was happy and we were better at communicating with each other. The winding, rutted roads did not change be we arrived back at the school in record time, 3 hours, 10 minutes.
Once again the village looked empty, but once they saw these light skinned ladies, whose arms they loved to touch, we had a warm welcome. They remembered us, we had a following everywhere we went, even the Elders came to hug us and say "Good morning". We were shown in their homes, we saw the single pig that was the meat supply for the village, the chickens that run around everywhere, and the skinny dogs that were plentiful. The children had the day off from school for some reason. This worked to our advantage because we had the day to spend with them and get to know them. The kids were amazing, they sang songs for us, did cartwheels and danced, they were so excited to entertain us. We got some terrific pictures, faces I will never forget. As we prepared to leave we thought we had had an eye opening experience, an amazing day. Little did we know that our trip home would change our lives forever.
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