For when it hurts..

Imagine you've just been shot. Are you going to fixate on who shot you and why they did it or are you going to go to a doctor and try to heal and survive?

Isn't it weird how we treat physical wounds so much different than spiritual or emotional wounds? When we get "shot" by people in the church we instantly turn to the shooter, not the Healer. 

Here's the problem. None of us are perfect. No, not one. 

None of us are Christ and few of us are Christ-like. So it's only natural that we fail each other. We sin against one another. We forget that we are meant to be a family and not merely a social club where we pay our annual dues, and attend a few meetings and call it a day. 

But a real family, defined by its beauty and imperfections–its messiness and its glory.

And the thing is that families fail us because people fail us. The church fails us, not because it is broken, but because we are broken. Individually, we are broken pieces, often consumed by our dysfunction and our past, our pain and our shame. Our sin and our hurts. 

Yet, in God’s family we are called chosen, redeemed, perfected, renewed, restored, healed, forgiven. We are not a soon-to-be or maybe-someday people of God. We are the people of God now. Today. Yesterday and Tomorrow.

The church is full of Gods glory and grace and is a perfect image or Christ and his bride. And yet, it is still comprised of people–people like me, who fail, who sin, who forget that we are members of the family of the Most High God. Adopted. Once orphaned, but now named.

And so are they…

The ones who hurt us. The ones who forget us. The ones who slight us, scorn us, judge us, sin against us. The ones who gossip, the ones who lie, the ones who betray, the ones who scorn, the ones who leave us out, the ones who don't care. 

So are they.

They too, are members of God’s family and while their actions cannot be excused, they cannot be used to keep us away. Because really, we cannot be kept away from church because we are the church.

We cannot allow the harm done to us by others to pull us, push us, move us, force us away from the church and our rightful place in it.

We cannot quit.

Because it is ours. It belongs to us, for we are His.

This beauty unspoken and not fully known. This mystery between the Son and His people. This glorious representation of Christ on earth–His hands and feet, His lungs and breath, His heart and mind.

Church hurts and it will hurt us. It stings and it convicts. It betrays and it forgets not because God doesn't know what he's doing or because it's a flawed design but because it is made up of people, imperfect people, longing people, lonely people, people on their way to looking more like Christ…

Just like us.

And if Christ didn't give up on us, then how dare we give up on them.

Because God doesn't get any glory when you shoot the one who shot you- he only gets glory when you give the forgiveness you've been given. 

Does that mean it doesn't hurt when we get shot? Of course not. Does that mean that we hide the wound and hope no one ever sees it? By no means. It means we show each other our scars, not to point fingers at the shooter but to bring Glory to the Healer. 

Hopes deferred and longings fulfilled.

Sometimes I think about Mary. Sometimes when I'm waiting and the waiting starts to get hard I think about her. I think about that time an angel came to her and told her about this magnificent plan for her life. 

I think about how she responded by declaring herself a bond servant of God. I think about when she was at her sister in laws and how in the midst of all this she spouted out what is now known as the Magnificat. I wonder if those around her were baffled by the fact that she got it. I mean she really got it. She knew that the purposes of God were personal and redemptive not political and religious. 

I think about the night her son was born and how messengers and travelers and angels greeted him and how we are told that she "treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart". I'm sure just waiting for the day that her son would become everything she was promised.

And then she waited and waited and waited until her son who was supposed to save the world was 30 and not influential, and not married, and not really, anything. Just a traveling preacher who recently snagged up a couple of disciples. I wonder if that was hard for her. I wonder if that's secretly  why she wanted more wine at the wedding at Canna. Yet, even with all that waiting she still believed whole heartedly in her son. "Whatever he says to you, do it" she encouraged them.

I read about how her husband dies and she remains poor. I wonder how she must have felt. I wonder how many times she recited that poem to herself when nothing close to her vision of Gods coming kingdom was at hand. I wonder how many times she had to return to all those things treasured in her heart.

Then I think about that awful Saturday morning. When her son, the one she bore to bring peace and mercy to the world lay in a grave. The bible says hope deferred makes the heart sick. I can only imagine what hope deferred, spit on, tortured, hung on a cross and buried in a grave can do to a heart.

But then came Sunday. Jesus rose from the grave, conquered death and whatever broke in Mary's heart the day before had been healed. Because  "hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life"

I think I think a lot about Mary because on a much much smaller scale I relate. For almost 3 years I treasured promises in my heart, I wrote down every single time someone said anything about us getting pregnant. The first being a lady in the church who I barely know, but happened to work 1 Sunday in the nursery with and the last being my pastor. All those months of storing up treasures in my heart and now a longing fulfilled.

All that to say that I've had hopes deferred and now longings fulfilled and I am more thankful for the season of deferred hope because it gave me a heart and a compassion for those of you who still are hoping and treasuring things in your heart. I feel like my heart now breaks a little bit more for anyone who's in the waiting. It gave me a new appreciation and a humility for being on the other side. I had someone recently confront me on the fact that I don't always talk about the miracle of being on this side of infertility and I think it's because for every time I want to bring it up I remember what it was like on the other side. And just as we should rejoice with those who rejoice, I also don't want to forget to mourn with those who are mourning. 

If your in the waiting please let me know, I want to pray with you I want to give you something to treasure in your heart, I want you to know that there is a purpose and just like Mary learned its personal and it's good and you don't have to do it alone. 

GUEST POST: Gods grace in the midst of mom guilt by Tiffany Gerttula

Hey guys, this post was written by a good friend of mine and I'm honored to be sharing it with you! 

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Mom guilt. Something no one ever talks about, especially before you have kids. Let me tell you, it’s not pretty! It will linger and haunt you growing deeper with every “mistake” you make. That could be why we don’t talk about it. Who wants to chat about the things that cause us shame and feelings of failure? Becoming a mother is supposed to be a beautiful, rewarding, challenging and blessed experience that one doesn’t truly comprehend until they start raising children. Everyone says it is hard, that is a given, but if we also spoke openly about feeling disgrace and disappointment would civilization cease to exist as we know it?

Recently our family experienced an exceptionally rough week. Our two year old fractured her left arm when the neighbor’s young Labrador retriever decided she looked like one of those inflatable punching toys that kids punch down and springs back up. Yes, kids get hurt. It is inevitable. But when it is your kid and the different variables surrounding the incident make you second guess your decisions as a parent that is when the guilt and shame can creep in.

So, this is how it all went down:

My littles and I decided to feed the goats and chickens in our back yard. The youngest (we’ll call her Gerber for the purpose of this story) is nine months old and as I stated earlier the older one is two going on three (she’ll beDancing Queen or DQ). We have what one might call a hobby farm in our back yard which angles downward quite a bit from the rear of our house. Wrangling the littles while trying to feed the animals is no easy task, especially when DQ’s free spirit always wants to let them loose.  “Set them free, Momma,” she says. To make the chore a little more manageable I decided to strap Gerber into the jogger stroller this time. After feeding the animals we started to make our way back up the slightly steep slope. “Pick me up, Momma,” said DQ. “I can’t honey, I have to push Gerber up the hill,” I replied.

A moment later the uncoordinated and overly excited young lab comes galloping around the corner of the house and I watch in horror as he pummels into DQ knocking her off her feet. I can still close my eyes and see the whole thing on replay.

She’s screaming for me. I’m screaming at the dog to get off her. The dog doesn’t stop pouncing on her little body. Gerber and I are about five feet ahead of them on the hill. I turn the jogger stroller slightly to stop it on the hill, run down to DQ and scoop her up. I know instantly something is wrong. My left-handed princess now has an arm of a spaghetti noodle. Panic sets in. Just so you know I am a registered nurse. I have been trained to handle stressful life threatening situations. I have experienced stressful life threatening situations. However, as a mom with a hurt child all my education, experience and training went out the window in that moment. With DQ in my arms I dashed into the house to call for help. You know those dreams you have where you need to call for help but your fingers won’t work right or you can’t remember the number? Well, that happened. Once I forced my brain to cooperate and remember how to dial a phone I called my Dad because he’s a volunteer fireman (has been since we were little kids), he works just down the road from our house and he could respond the fastest.  

“I need help Dad, I think DQ dislocated her arm,” I yelled in panic when he answered. Once he said he’d come right away I made a slight sigh of relief. Help was on its way. That relief was short lived. In fact my panic mode increased twofold as soon as I realized the stroller Gerber was in that I carelessly left slightly turned on the hill had rolled down to the bottom and was now parked in the blackberry bushes. “Oh Lord, no!” I think to myself while I run toward the stroller with a wailing toddler in my arms. My legs couldn’t move fast enough. I have visions of a board piercing her little body, thorny vines entangling her or worse yet, that she had been catapulted from the stroller completely. I hear no screams or crying. “She must be unconscious,” I tell myself.

I reach Gerber to see that she is completely unharmed, totally unaware of the danger she could have faced and sucking on her tennis shoe. “Praise the Lord, oh my soul,” I yell. This baby just went on the ride of her life down a steep hill dodging buckets, fencing materials and boards. She gracefully came to a stop with just enough room that her piggy toes didn’t touch a single torn at the bottom. If that wasn’t a miracle, I don’t know what is. Living in a small town with a lot of family allowed me to quickly find someone to watch over Gerber at home while I rushed DQ to the emergency room. “She’s going to be just fine,” the doctor told me, “but she has a fractured arm and will need to wear a sling for the next 3-4 weeks.” “Praise the Lord,” I tell myself again. Just as we were about to leave the hospital DQ lifts both arms up in the air without a wince and says, “look Momma, I can praise God!”

Now that I am reassured both my angels are out of harm’s way the guilt sets in. It hurts like a knife in my chest. What if I had just picked her up when she asked me to? How could I leave my vulnerable baby on a dangerous hillside while I cared for her sister? Essentially I had chosen one child over the other, hadn’t I? 

Who does that?!?

I felt like the worst parent on Earth. I was embarrassed, ashamed and broken hearted that I hadn’t taken care of BOTH my babies appropriately. 

Have I been able to reflect on poor decisions I made and learn from this incident? Yes, of course I have. However, that doesn’t take away the dark cloud of shame that resides over my head. I felt like a total LOSER, a failure as a parent. I felt like I couldn’t hold everything together like I always had and in a way am expected to. 

People would ask me how DQ was doing and I would give them a full report. Secretly I felt too ashamed to tell them that the report on Gerber was miraculous too. I knew by telling the WHOLE ugly story that eyebrows would raise and they did. Jokes at my expense would be said and they were. I knew if they really understood how I felt about letting my kids down that they wouldn’t be able to handle the tears that would come running down my cheeks. 

All my life I’ve tried my best to look, act and just BE perfect. I always knew when to say the right things and when it was best to hold my tongue. I can sound wise and well educated. I can keep my cool in tense and/or uncomfortable situations. 

But this was my reality check. This made me loose face, it made me human. So here I am sharing the depths of my soul, what I really feel like inside. Ladies and gentlemen, I ain’t perfect. What a relief it is that I’m not! I can finally stop these silly spectacles and be REAL.

I know I will make plenty more mistakes. I know I won’t be able to control every situation my child is in. This is where my Savior comes in. He doesn’t expect me to be perfect. He doesn’t expect me to have it all together all the time. He desires me to need and rely on Him. 

One person I bore my humiliation to said, “This was God’s way of telling you He has His hands around your children, even when you don’t.” 

That is SO true!

My kids are one part of my life that I haven’t been able to fully submit to God. I’ve prayed over them and prayed God’s will for their lives, but I haven’t ever really let go of the reigns. Why? Because I am too scared that he might take them away from me? He’s a God that loves us and wants what is best for us. Does that mean my children will be free from trials, failures, sickness or even death? No, it does not. I will admit that is scary to say out loud. What God wants me to do is to lay them at His feet and trust that they are in the best care. He will prove that to me time and time again. 

I am truly counting my blessings that God provides a hedge of protection around my children, especially when I fall short as a Mom. I serve a God that is near me even when I have been distant from Him. He follows through on his promises. I serve a God that forgives and shows unending grace and mercy. I need to be a mother who forgives herself and shows herself grace. My children are still young and there are many decisions I will make for them in the future, some very likely could be wrong. God doesn’t expect me to be perfect. Why should I expect myself to be perfect? 

How about we all get off our high horses and realize we are human, we make mistakes, we will fail but that God loves us anyway and with Him we have it all!

 

Lost and found

Anyone who says Christians are boring has clearly never read Luke 15. A man loses a sheep then finds it. He throws a party. A girl loses a coin but finds it so, she throws a party. A dad loses his son, then he returns so they throw a party.

SIDE NOTE: I think this party business needs to be brought back as a cultural norm. So please look forward to a cordial invite to my future "Erin found her lost fleece-lined leggings" party. We'll have to substitute the fattened calves for pumpkin spice lattes, but the idea will be the same I promise.

I don't know about you but sometimes I get lost. I get lost in stress, or bitterness, or insecurity, or doubt and I need to read the parables in this chapter to remind my soul that my God is very much so in the business of finding lost things. But even more so than showing us God is all about finding lost things, it shows us he's all about relationship.

Check it out. 

"I will arise and go to my father, I will say to him "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son. Treat me as one of your hired servants" And he arose and came to his father but while he was still a long way off his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran to embrace him. And the son said to the father "Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son'. But the father said to his servants, 'Bring quickly the best robe and put it on him. Place a ring on his hand and shoes on his feet. Bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate"

Okay, wait. Who randomly has a fattened calf just because? I think our Father does. Maybe I'm reading way too far into it, and I actually don't know much about the culture back then, maybe having a fattened calf is like having a golden retriever now a days. But I like to think that the Father had it ready just in case his son returned. In the same way, I think God the Father has blessings stored up for your just in case you return to him.

The son had his apology speech all ready to go and then the father cut him off and immediately started restoring to him that which was lost. What a perfect picture of true repentance. Repentance isn't when you come up with the right words and say sorry to God and tell him what you expect your punishment should be, repentance is when you turn and go towards the Father. See because to the father it was never about the riches that were squandered it was always about the relationship that was severed. 

But, Jesus never calls this the story of the prodigal son. No he calls this the story of two sons. I think he does that on purpose cause he wants us to remember that the grace the father has for the prodigal, is also enough for the Pharisee.

I've been the prodigal and the Pharisee, but I still somehow get invited to the party.

Christianese pet-peeve #39502

The doctrine of once saved always saved.

Okay- wait. Let me put a little disclaimer in there for the easily defensive. I don't care if you believe in once saved always saved, and I don't particularly think Jesus cares either. However some people have become rather annoyed with the fact that I personally think it's crappy theology. So- I figured I'd use my little corner of the web to defend my conclusion.

My pastor once told me to start things off with a bold offensive statement and then back it up from there so here's my bold all-encompassing statement for my anti- Security Doctrine:

The most merciful thing; aside from the cross, an all powerful Creator can do for his children is send them to Hell.

How is that merciful? I'm glad you asked. Obviously if I spend my life, energy, and finances worshiping a God that promises eternal life and then he decides to send me to hell just for funsies; well then, that's not very merciful now is it? But on the flip if I spend my life separated from Him and show him with my words, actions, lifestyle that I wish to continue to be separated from him- even though He desires that none shall perish, Him letting me choose my fleshly desires over his divine plan- is like super merciful. If you ask me.

I'm not the only one who thinks once saved always saved is crap- I've got some super credible people backing me up on this. Like, for example all the writers of the New Testament.

-Matthew, Mark & Luke all tell the parable of the soils in which Jesus refers to someone who receive the word, but "fall away" at the onset of trial  & tribulation. (Luke 8:13)

-The head honcho Paul wrote about two brothers who were "delivered to Satan" after their faith had "Suffered shipwreck". (1 Timothy 1:19-20

- After he had become a believer, Simon who was formerly a sorcerer, found himself in danger of perishing unless he repented of trying to purchase the gift of God (Acts 8:9-25)

-The writer of the book of Hebrew wrote of the possibility of some falling away though they had "Tasted and seen the heavenly gift" and had even become "Partakers of the Holy Spirit" (Hebrews 6:4-6)

- James urged that if one "wanders from the truth'" that if he is to ever turn back to the truth his soul will be saved from death. (James 5:19-20) Meaning- that before he turns back his soul however will not be saved from death.

- Jesus himself commissioned the apostle John to warn the Christians in Pergamos to repent or else he would "Fight against them". (Revelation 2:16)

-Peter warned believers to be vigilant about their faith because the devil "Walks about like a roaring lion, seeking one to devour" (1 Peter 5:8)

 

-Jude thought it was a big enough deal to spend his entire letter basically writing about an apostasy that was underway. 

Let me guess you are sitting there getting ready to type in the comments some snarky remark about how God judges the heart, and nothing can take us from his grasp, right? Definitely. However there's a fun little proverb that says "As water reflects a face, so a mans actions reflect his heart". So if my actions say "Send me to Hell, please!" Then guess what my heart is also probably saying? And you are 1000000% correct that nothing can take you from His grasp- as stated in John 10:28. Nothing can "Snatch" you from his hand. Or if you want to read it in the original language- Nothing can harpazo you out of his hand. Harpazo is the Greek word used in that verse for the phrase "pluck" or "snatch up" and it literally means "forcefully remove" or to "obtain by robbery". So in other words if you are held in God's hand for eternity and you are just sittin' there chillin' nothing can force you out of that position. However- to say that you could never leave that position is to completely throw away the doctrine of free will (which is like a super important factor to the Gospel, so I don't think you want to do that.)

Okay, maybe calling your doctrine crap isn't very nice, and I'm sure you have your own set of scriptures lined up ready to post in the comments here- which by the way IS TOTALLY OKAY. Like I said, I don't care if you believe in once saved always saved, it's only an issue if you're using it in place of the acronym "yolo" and dragging it along with you as some sort of security blanket. Other wise- believe it all you want. But don't go around saying I teach and practice false doctrine- cause well, that's just not very nice. 

Weather I've made a compelling argument or you still think I'm full of crap- I don't really care. What I do care about is that no matter where you land on this issue you continue to live every day as if Jesus died on the cross yesterday, rose from the grave today and is coming back tomorrow. Because personally I'd rather talk about his life, death or resurrection than any of the petty crap that comes in between. 

Confessions of a Recovering Perfectionist.

I have a confession. 

I'm a perfectionist. Through and through.

Or, should I say a "recovering" perfectionist.

But its true, I want things to be perfect. I want to be perfect. I want my marriage to be perfect and I want my friendships to look like well filtered Taylor Swift instagrams. I want my house to look like it came right off my "Where the heart is" Pinterest board.

A few weeks ago, we had a group of people at our place and I of course wanted it perfect. I picked the perfect flowers, planned the perfect meal, straightened up the bathroom perfectly. Set the super spiritual books at the perfect angle on my coffee table. Then I burned the "perfect" biscuits, misread the directions on the "perfect" cookies, and realized my perfect little blue berries for the desert were rotten. I tried to think of a way to nonchalantly toss the burnt biscuits in the trash before anyone noticed but with the lay out of our apartment that was nearly impossible. So I took them out of the oven, turned off the smoke alarm and left them on the counter. Because that's not a mask that's me- full of good intentions and well planned ideas but a little forgetful and easily distracted. (Maybe that should be my new tagline? Mmm, probably not. )

I wanted everything to be perfect for my friends.

Bull. I wanted everything to be perfect for me. 

You know what happened?

We read God's word and openly asked for prayer, people stayed at my house til almost midnight talking about what the Lord has been doing in their lives. In other words the smell of burnt biscuits didn't even phase them. 

The problem with perfectionism is this: True community and friendships are impossible to foster behind a mask of perfectionism. True community is found over a cup of terrible coffee, or burnt biscuits. It's found when we remove the masks and put down the walls and let others really see us. True community doesn't get it's power from statements like "what a lovely centerpiece" or "where did you find this recipe" it's found in tears and in statements like "Really? Me too." 

Jesus was perfect. But not the kind of perfect I'm talking about. Not earth's idea of perfectionism. Our idea is self-serving. Wrapped up in appearences and well thought out hashtags.

Here's what I'm learning.

Perfection is pretty, but it can't cry with you.

It can't respond to your text with a vulnerable prayer.

It doesn't understand the power of "I've struggled with that.."

It literally just looks pretty. And can also be pretty spendy. 

We don't come together as believers to just celebrate Jesus's perfect life, we come together because He suffered a perfect death.

Down, but not out.

I grew up in the church. Literally. My mother put me in a basket and set me outside the doors of the church. I was then taken in by a nice little family of church mice and we would spend our afternoons pooping in cupboards and scurrying about picking up crumbs from the sanctuary.

Okay, I made that up.

But, I did spend an insane amount  of time in the church. By choice. When I was a teenager I really wasn't allowed to do anything except go to church. I mean technically my mom would have let me go to some giant rave party but it would have required an investigation the FBI would be proud of, and that just was super inconvenient for me so youth group it was.

My point is that when you spend 5+ nights a week inside a church building you tend to see a ton of burnout. In my "on fire" 16 year old brain the ones burning out were synonymous with the ones that "were never truly with us" so I didn't really give the whole burn out thing much thought.

Until now when I'm 25 with an awesome marriage, A church and church family that I love so much I could just squish. Being insanely humbled daily that Jesus and parents trust me enough to let me teach their little snack-loving, booger wiping babies about God's love. Not to mention really learning to love "quiet time" with the Lord and in spite of all that- I constantly want to throw in the towel.

Especially lately, and so I have researched a ton of stuff about what causes burn out and why people leave the church and  I've read just about every blog on "10 things to do to avoid burn out" and they were insightful and candid and I will probably apply some of their wisdom to my life but I had to realize that as long as that Jerk-a-saurus Satan is still all about stealing, killing and destroying- you probably won't avoid thoughts of burn out. Bummer.

So instead of reading some cynic's take on burn out I decided to get encouragement from the Bible about ministry. I probably could have saved myself a ton of time by doing this first, but I've never claimed to be a real quick learner.

So I searched "Verses about the church" and then I googled "Encouraging verses for ministry" and then I searched "Encouraging scripture for when you want to give up" and every single search told me to read 2 Timothy 4. So I did. Let me just write it out here and you tell me if you think it's encouraging or not.

Proclaim the message; persist in it whether convenient or not; rebuke, correct and encourage with great patience and teaching. For the time will come when they will not tolerate sound doctrine but according to their own desires will multiply teachers for themselves because they have an itch to hear something new. They will turn away from the truth and will turn aside to myths. But as for you, be serious about everything, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, fulfill your ministry. For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time for my departure is near. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race and I have kept the faith. There is reserved for me a crown of righteousness which the Lord, the righteous Judge will give me on that day. And not only to me but to all who loved His Appearing. 2 Timothy 4:2-8 (HCSB)

Either this is like the worst encouragement ever or Paul's just an asshole.

Be serious about everything and work hard? Ew. No thanks.

Maybe it's just me but this just doesn't come across as your typical encouragement. Like if I'm feeling burnt out the last thing I want someone to tell me is that it's only going to get worse and to be serious. Not only is the work going to get harder and the people are going to be harder but then tell me that they aren't going to be around to help. Then I read it again and again and I realized the most discouraging thing in church and ministry is unmet unrealistic expectations. You hear it all the time people "church shopping" or "waiting for the perfect opportunity to serve" or whatever and they always end up discouraged or defeated when they learn that there's no such thing as the perfect church, or the perfect ministry because there's no such thing as a perfect Christian. Maybe Paul knew that fluffy words and nice sounding affirmations just wasn't going to cut it. Maybe he knew that Timothy probably had some idealistic expectations for his career as a pastor. 

Maybe Paul wanted to encourage Timothy by telling him, even if you're down don't let it take you out. Even after all the discouragement and defeat Paul had encountered while doing ministry he was still able to say that he finished the race well.

I think later in this passage Paul unknowingly gives us the key to not burning out.

"Be diligent to come to me quickly..... Get Mark and bring him with you, for he is useful for me in Minstry"

It's easy to read any of Paul's writing and think of him as a super-human. But these phrases in verse 9-10 show us that Paul needed companionship and he recognized that it wasn't good for him to be alone.

So if I had to make a list of ways to avoid burn out. this would be it.

1. Get your encouragement from Jesus, not google.
2. Surround yourself with other Christians.
3. Repeat steps 1-2.

Not the most exciting list. But if it worked for Paul and Timothy, I imagine it will work fine for us.