The Women in my Life

I am so grateful for the women in my life.

First, there is the one with the light skin, light hair, light eyes. The one who I invited into all my hidden places, in that dingy office with fluorescent lights and puke green walls.  The beautiful mother of two, entrepreneur, therapist, leader, role model. Her eyes always bright, always present, always open. They were the first that I can remember to truly see a beauty and depth in me that I never saw in myself. Even when I told her of all the horrendous things I’d done, felt, said, thought. In her presence, there’s always an acceptance and awareness that makes me feel safe, okay. By being believed in, I’ve been able to believe in myself. By being supported, I’ve been able to move forward. By being accepted, I’ve been able to be true with myself and others. This woman offers a gentleness and compassion that is unique and warm.

Then, there’s the woman that bore me and raised me. The strong one, the one who has experienced traumas unheard of. The one who has had the tenacity to keep breathing, keep loving, keep living when it didn’t seem possible anymore. She has demonstrated for me what true healing looks like. She has shown me firsthand that recovery is possible; it is always just around the corner. That it’s ok to ask for help, that it’s always best to be completely honest. She is a garden, that I’ve had the beautiful privilege of watching grow and flourish. I’ve seen this garden dry, dead, with thorns. I’ve seen the God of gentleness prune her, water her. Plant new and beautiful seeds of resilience and self-acceptance. I’ve seen flowers bloom, just to show what beauty is. I’ve seen vegetable seeds thrive, able to teach, nourish, serve, and give to others.

And the one that has aged with the most grace. The one who has seen so much, lost so much, learned so much and loved so much in her eighty years here. So willing to impart all of that wisdom onto me. “Acceptance, humility, openness are the keys” she says. The keys to serenity, to living and loving well. And I see that exemplified for me in every conversation we have, sitting on the deep couches surrounded by pillows and Angel the dog. This woman gives me hope about living the rest of my life, showing me that joy and vitality is possible on any day, at any stage and any age. She is an inspiration. She is a gift, given timely and purposefully.

Not to mention the one with the fiery red hair and bright blue eyes. The beautiful mother, wife, designer, recovering alcoholic, believer, friend. The one that doesn’t fit inside of the box, and owns up to that uniqueness. Filled with security, acceptance, and love for herself and her Jesus. In the best way, in the way that inspires me. In the way that makes her more loving, forgiving, life-filled and life-giving. She shows me what it looks like to have real faith. To have a faith that unites us, encourages us, and opens up the horizons. She is the anomaly that I’ve needed for so long. To show me that I can be myself and be with Jesus. “Girl, that judgment stuff is just bullshit! Where’s the grace? That’s what it’s all about!” Spoken with such confidence, I feel my own heart rise up in agreement and hope.

All of these women, all gifts to me. All gifts to the world of people they inspire, encourage, love, support, comfort. Filled with humility, tenderness, compassion that fills the spaces they’re in with a close, golden warmth. Filled with a strength and shamelessness that refuses to crumple and back down in the face of trauma, judgment, and the challenges of being alive and being a woman. A passion that flows outwards, radiating a deep, full red that demands attention.

All of these women, gifts given to me at the most perfect and necessary times. To keep me afloat, to keep me growing and moving and smiling. To keep my eyes open and facing forward. To inspire me to become the kind of woman that radiates that same love, gentleness, strength, and warmth.

To my love

The thing that you ignite inside of me..
is not merely a thought, feeling, or even desire.
It is an ache.
Something mildly uncomfortable, all-consuming,
demanding of my attention, calling me to come.

When I am near you, I find stillness.
Aloneness that isn't lonely, because I sense nothing is lacking,
and I'm not really by myself.
The tall, steady all-encompassing things that are inside of you
keep me company.

I find a different kind of silence in you.
One that's not so disconcerting.
A silence that surrounds and supports me,
doesn't smother me.
A silence that brings clarity and perspective.

You remind me of my insignificance, of my smallness.
But you don't belittle me.
It's only because of your bigness and your power.
You are so wonderfully and unfathomably strong.
Steady, secure, immovable.

In you, I feel I am a part of something bigger.
Small- maybe even non-essential- but connected.
The way you are so self-sufficient and independent
takes the weight off of my shoulders.
I know I don't need to change, save, fix, or add anything to you.

You seem untouched by me, but not distant.
You draw my attention away from where I was or where I'm going,
to where I am.
You bring me to the only place and time that I ever really have, that really exists:
here and now.

The closer I get to you, the more intricate you become.
I can get lost in you, in your vastness and uncontrollability.
Your unpredictability reminds me of how fragile and temporary I am,
and I find comfort in that.

When I'm away from you, I want to be with you.
When I'm near you, I want to be closer still.
When I am in you, I never want to leave.

You, my love, are the mountains.
The mountains are my lover.

Jesus weeps.

The past few weeks have been rough. I've been noticing a disconnect with God.

For one, I noticed that every time it seemed like my emotions connected with my Spirit, there was grief, mainly. I just cried and cried. And hurt. For different reasons, on different days, but the same grief.

I was talking to my friend last weekend about all of the disconnection and frustration I feel. About how I constantly want to really connect with God, be centered on Him, listening to Him, believing in His love for me. But I just never get there. And what's standing in the way? Me! My own disbelief, lack of faith, misperceptions about His character. The worst part is, these doubts I've had about his love and His goodness... I've had these for years and years. Unable to let go. And I'm just getting to the point where I'm fed up with the whole thing. Wanting to drop it all.

"When did all of this start? These doubts, where do they come from?"

My memory takes me back to one particular moment in time, in Kenya, when I felt a shock and a loss like I've never experienced before. The first thing that went through my mind in that moment was, "Well, I guess these things happen. I guess God doesn't care what happens to our physical bodies.. I must subscribe to that and accept that. He allows these things to happen, and perhaps He is removed from this, and this is just another part of life."

Granted, this particular event was by far one of the most awful things I've experienced.. but this sort of suffering characterized my time overseas. I came face to face with violence, with loss, with pain- literally every single day. And given that I had no one to really process through all of that with, and no place to put it, I guess I just tried my best to normalize all of it. This is what I saw the people who lived there doing, as well. There is just too much of it to face all at once.
So, I guess I got it in my head that God is somehow removed from it as well. Sure, maybe He doesn't like it, but it must not be too bad, or else He wouldn't let it happen in the first place... right?

So, these are the kinds of things I've been struggling with. I have this hunch that tells me that these thoughts, this way of thinking about pain and suffering, simply isn't true. But for the last week, I've just been mentioning it to Him. Asking Him about those moments, about what He really feels in those times. About what He's really like.

And yesterday, I watched this video of Cornel West speaking. In passing, he mentions, "I hear Vishnu dances, I like that! Well, Jesus weeps... Jesus weeps. If there is one thing He does, Jesus weeps."

This morning, as I sat down to talk to Him yet again about all of this and ask the same question, those words sink from my mind down into my heart and radiate out through my lips, as tears start streaming down my face. After weeks of these doubts, these questions, it all starts to come together.

I have a God, who suffers. Who truly, deeply suffers with us. WITH us. He was not far removed. He was in it, literally. He experienced and experiences all of those moments that are too much to bear for the human spirit.

I have a God who weeps. Who isn't afraid of pain the way we are. Who lets it wash over Him, who doesn't run from it or avoid it- but stares it straight in the face with His tear-filled eyes wide open. Who lets Himself be hurt, time and time again. Knowing how all things come together in the end.

In the moments of unbearable pain and shock for me, smiles and words and encouragements are powerless to console me. They bounce right off of my ears, leaving no trace of their existence. But tears.. another person's tears. That comforts me in a deep place. Because those tears show me that I'm not alone. That this suffering isn't only my own. That there is someone who is sharing this burden with me, sharing this experience with me. It is not only mine to bear. Only tears have the power to console me.

And tears are what Jesus offers.

"He took our pain, bore our suffering. He was hated, rejected, misunderstood, and alone. Called a man of suffering, familiar with pain. He took the punishment we deserved, and brought us peace. By His wounds, we are healed." Isaiah 53:3-5 

By His tears, I have been comforted today.

Some things I've come to love.

There are some things I really love about God.

I for one, love that we lack. Or maybe it's just me. I'll speak for myself, here. I lack the ability to love myself fully. To develop my own self-esteem. To "elevate my self-worth". I've tried.. I try now. It just feels like I'm trying to fool myself. Like I'm trying to convince myself that I am better, more loving, more kind, more capable than I really am. It feels dishonest in some ways. I love that I lack the resources in and of myself to care for myself completely.

Given that, I love that He meets that need. I love that He affirms me. Regardless of whether I believe it or not- whether I have faith or not, He validates me. I am lovable because I am loved by Him. I am worth so much, I am so valuable.. because He says I am. Granted, the effect that has on my intra/interpersonal relationships depends on the faith I have in and my awareness of that reality.. But I find comfort in the fact that that is an ultimate Reality that exists apart from me. I am loved. Whether I believe it or not. I am loved. I can breathe easy because of that. I don't have to seeking that affection, attention, admiration of others because of that. (Of course, on my good days).

I also love that God calls it like it is- and asks me to do the same. I don't have to find my self-worth in myself, I don't have to convince myself that I am better or more worthy than I am. He enables me to have the courage to confess that I am, in fact, inadequate. That there are things that I lack in terms of taking care of myself and taking care of others. Coming to terms with this reality has been very liberating for me. This allows me to be genuine with myself, with Him, with other people.

I realized today that even as He calls us to holiness, it's still from this place of transparency. I've always thought of "holiness" as primarily a form of behavior modification. I've always thought of it as showing self-restraint, consistently doing certain Christian practices and  treating others differently. Surely this is part of it, but I don't think it's the whole story. If my heart, my motivations remained unchanged, then this is called hypocrisy. Jesus doesn't like that at all. In fact, it seems to be one of the characteristics of people that He really opposes. One of the key things in the process of becoming "holy" is confession. Being transparent with God and others. Allowing Him to see me the way I am, to see all of the things I lack. Whenever I walk in that kind of openness, surrender, vulnerability with Him..He takes care of my motivations, my heart. That is also liberating for me. It makes me less intimidated by this concept of "holiness".

Anyway, just a few thoughts. 

For the love of God.

Yesterday, I read something, somewhere that said this day and age, we are struggling with the "sin of unbelief" in God's love for us. I see that so evidently in my life and the lives of those around me. An inability to really believe in the fact that He does, in fact, love us very much. This has been devastating for me, and for others. It creates such a barrier between us. At first, I didn't like the way "sin of unbelief" struck me. How is that a sin? How is that necessarily wrong for me to doubt His love?

Then I thought of it this way: If a man loved a woman so, so much.. that He gave up not even His own life- but the life of His child, for her. And she STILL doubted Him? She STILL questioned His love and devotion to her.. how much would that hurt Him? That would be so painful, like a slap in the face. Because what more can He do, really? He's given her everything already.

And that's me- that's us- when we doubt His love. It hurts Him more than we know. But I've gotten used to living in this place of doubt.

Well, I don't want to anymore. At first, I know it'll take discipline- a sort of "whether I feel it or not" type of discipline to move into belief. In the past, I've relied a lot on emotional experiences to affirm His love and be convinced of it over and over again. But, it's time to move past that now. It's time to move into a more solid foundation of surety. So, I'm going to the things He has already told me, for sure, and the things He's already done in the lives of other people. I'm going to His Word.

And I've started keeping a small journal. I write down little verses He's spoken to me, like "Abby, I think about you all the time" (Ps 139). And little things He gives or shows to me throughout the day.

This morning, I wrote down one of my favorite passages from John 15:1-16- the one where Jesus talks about how He is the vine and we are the branches. In one part He says, "now, stay in My love by obeying all the things I've commanded you." and a few verses later He says, "this is my command: love each other". And all of the sudden, it dawned on me that this is one of the biggest ways I have experienced His love in the past and still do today- through the love that other people show me.

I feel His care through the weight of someone's arm around my shoulders. I feel His sympathy when I look into the tear-filled eyes of the person listening intently to my story. I know His joy as I see that little blonde girl sprinting towards me, grinning from ear to ear. I feel His support through the room full of people who are willing to listen to what I have to say, and who have stood beside me through everything I've been through.

We don't just know He loves us through what He's already said and done. We don't just know He loves us because of the small gifts or emotional experiences throughout the day. We know He loves us through the way His kids love us. And that's how others know that He loves them, too. It's a tricky thing He did there, knowing that we'd all have to die to our own needs and live for others and love each other completely. But that's how He set it up, that's how it works.

I'm challenged and comforted.

For  the sake of everyone, for the love of God- love each other. 

On Rebellion and the Goodness of God

Yesterday, I took a lot of time to write about my struggles. Today, it seems like God has taken the time to write His response. Here's a little bit of what I said yesterday:

"I've found it hard to trust lately. I've found that in a lot of ways, I want to keep Him at arm's length. I've discovered a new fear in me; a fear of Him. I'm afraid that everything that I want, everything relatively satisfying, He is waiting to take away simply because I like said thing. This is because He has always "taken" (or asked me to walk away from) relationships that I wanted to hold onto. This makes me question the goodness of His heart. Not necessarily the goodness, but it makes me question whether He really wants me to enjoy things and life and people. That's just one part of me, though. The other part of me sees the logic behind His ways. The common factor in these relationships has been me. And my tendency to idolize and depend on people. And my inability to be surrendered and balanced and have normal attachments. So, I see that what I perceive to be "good" or "satisfying" isn't really those things at all. If anything, it's destructive in the long run. I know that to be true. So, I know it's not because He doesn't love me. It's because He does love me that He takes these things that I want to hold onto. He is still good. Tell that to my heart, though."

And He did. Today I read from Psalm 107:10-22. His kids rebelled against Him, and as a result, got themselves imprisoned and made their own lives miserable. He allowed this because He wanted them to come to a place where they were desperate enough to cry out to them. And the moment they did, He responded, without missing a beat. His motivation the whole time was His "unfailing Love" and His desire to set them free. In Isaiah 30, he talks again, about how His kids were disobedient and refused to repent or rest or anything of the like. How they were deceitful, oppressive, constantly running away.. and "He longs to be gracious to you; therefore He'll rise up to show you compassion."

Over and over again, I'm seeing His heart through my own rebellion. And I'll tell you what, I know a thing or two about rebellion. I'm really skilled at it. I've done it for years at a time. I know the weight of it, the heaviness. It's made me lose my appetite, given me migraines, intruded on my relationships with God and everyone else. Rebellion and I go way back.

One thing I buy into when I'm in that place is that God is angry with me. That He's one step away from giving up, calling it quits. That He's getting fed up with doing this over and over, because He thought I learned my lesson already.

Another thing I struggle with (see above paragraph), is believing that He isn't good. He just wants to take everything I like simply because I like it and He's mean. He likes to play games. Today, it's like He looked me straight in the face and spoke to that very thing.

"Sweet girl, what on earth would ever lead you to believe that I like seeing you miserable? I hate your pain, I hate seeing you hurt like this and do this to yourself. But I can't just leave you here, not by my side. I've got to bring you home. I know that running away from Me is not what's best for you, even if that's what you think you want at the time. I know that's what's best for you is whenever you listen to Me and do the things I ask of you. I ask these things for the right reasons, My heart towards you is always good, even when I'm disciplining you. It's always out of love, never out of anger or disappointment. I don't like disciplining you, I don't like hurting you. The second you turn around and cry out to Me, I'm there. I'm just waiting to show you My compassion and come take you Home."
And this makes sense to my heart. It's comforted and quieted. He's right.

I felt like I should write this, if there's anyone in a place where they are struggling to see God's love or goodness, where they constantly feel guilty and heavy. Anyone that is either tempted to run away or is running away right now. There is no need for that. Take it from Him and take it from me. He's waiting to be close to you, He doesn't want to see you hurt like this.

Hebrews 12:5-11 "And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says, “My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son." 

Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. 

No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. “Make level paths for your feet,” so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed."

Trust Me.

So I've been holding onto my old sins so tightly that my knuckles turn white, thinking that they are serving some purpose in my life, instead of letting God totally destroy & rebuild them. I've convinced myself that my own shame and self-condemnation is the only thing that will keep me obedient to God. In reality, maybe it has helped to keep me from going further than I otherwise would have, but it definitely doesn't keep me at Christ's feet in any way. I wonder if anyone can relate. Anyway, today, God told me this, and I have an inclination that maybe someone else needs to hear this too: "Abby, you are clay in My hands. I'm going to make you into something beautiful, but I need you to work with Me. I'm never going to force you into anything, I will wait for your cooperation. Don't give up before we get started. Don't tell me it's useless. Don't follow the stubborness of your own heart anymore, love. Trust Me with your past, your hurts, your sins. Even with those things that you have kept hidden for so long, those things you think unbearably shameful. I know it hurts to touch them, and I know you want to hide them but I've gotta bring them into the light so we can look at them together. My heart is to heal you. You've gotta trust me. I'm not gonna hurt you and just leave you that way, sweet girl. Remember that I am gentle and compassionate, that I care for you more than you care for yourself. I'm the One that put you together, that brought you here in the first place, that carried you across the world and back. When you feel yourself shutting down, when you feel your hands tightening and your mind resorting to that old way of thinking- look up, into My face. I will help you. I am the Christ, the Savior, the only One who knows your deepest self, your deepest hurts and fears and needs. Trust Me with your heart, sweet girl. Take My hand, this will bring us closer together. It will be hard work, but I am with you, and it will be worth it. Trust Me."