Just Because I Need To Process...

We are broken.

We are bleeding out of tiny cracks in our skin.

We are constantly breathing in the smoke of this fiery mess.

We are burdened.

And the burden is stronger than the fear that surrounds us.

We are standing, backs to the hurricane, guarding this tiny flicker of hope.

We are not who we used to be.

We are not who we want to be.

We keep one eye on the sky... looking for a sign.

We keep our arms crossed and our hearts buried.

We strike out.

And the bruises will never fade.

We shake under the weight of ugly expectation.

We stare dumbly at the words on the page.

We are just so human...

So frail...

So lost.

We can never scrub away the stains of betrayal... of rejection.

We keep hoping that change will carry us to a new place.

We keep forming silent words.

And the screaming of our hearts will not be stilled.

There is chaos in every breath.

There is aching in every step.

There is emptiness in every kiss.

And we rise crushed and bruised on tattered wings.

We turn tear swollen eyes to the hills of mercy, searching for help.

We make feeble attempts at wholeness, all the while holding up our shattered love with weary fingers.

We came to the end so long ago.

This road is new.

We are setting our feet on ground that we never thought existed.

I can look back and see where our hearts went separate ways.

But mercy.... mercy....

mercy....

And somehow we are still stumbling into the God Who Sustains Us.

Free

If I were a free woman I would fill my heart with beauty and move unrestrained.

I would engage in a whirlwind of strength, opening my heart to new horizons and expectations.

I would get in my car and drive until I couldn't find myself.

I would set aside my fear and my inhibitions and I would attempt flight.

I would collapse every night, gloriously tired from every act of courage.

I would run and when I ran out of breath, I would push a little further.

I would open new doors and bravely step through to the other side.

I would love like I had never been betrayed.

I would hope like I had never been disappointed.

I would crash into inspiration and let it wash over me.

I would write until my heart was empty.

I would whisper beautiful, undeniable truths to my children.

I would expect the future to be deep and full.

I would place the immense weight of my soul on the Hero of Life.

I would encourage my children to adventure.

I would encourage my husband to breath deep and take in the cool bravery of living life on this earth.

I would plant and watch things grow.

I would wake up every morning with gratitude for the sun spilling in through my window.

I would sit outside and watch my children play and laugh.

I would cry without shame.

I would embrace my freedom.

If I were a free woman...

I would live like I were free.

Rest

This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it."
Isaiah 30:15

This is what happens: I get moving. I DO things. I sweep the floors, I wash the dishes (since I don't have a dishwasher), I change diapers, I make meals, I make bottles, I make beds, I vacuum carpets, I water plants, I do laundry, I dust, I clean bathrooms, I pick up toys, I enforce nap times (with children who think they shouldn't HAVE to sleep... EVER), I teach yoga, I run errands, I drop off and pick up from school.

I DO.

And I never rest.

Partly because, like I said, my children don't rest.

Partly because I don't know how to anymore.

Which leads me to days like yesterday... and today...

I am worn thin.

I can feel my strength crumbling.

I can sense my patience washing away.

I really just want to stay in bed all day.

Does anyone REALLY do that anymore?

My brother does... at least he stays in bed till 2pm some days.

But do parents ever really rest?

Isaiah was talking about ME.

If I would stop, turn around and rest I would be saved.

If I would be quiet and trust that God knows exactly what I need I would find strength.

But I would have none of it.

I haven't stopped and stilled myself before God.

I haven't even searched for rest!

I've been complaining that I am drowning, yet pushing away the life raft!

I've been whining that this isn't fair...

I've been very self absorbed.

And it's only now, that I am SO lost and tired, that I am remembering that I don't HAVE to reach this point.

So today this is my goal:

To turn my heart back towards Jesus.

To rest.

To be quiet.

And to trust.

Salvation...

Strength...

The Invisible Woman

Have you ever felt completely invisible?

Have you ever felt overlooked?

Have you ever been set aside for the sake of "ministry"?

I couldn't even COUNT the times that I have been invisible, overlooked and placed on the altar of ministry.

But I CAN tell you the first time it happened.

We had been married for 2 months.... 2 stressful months I might add.

Joe was asked to take a group of kids to Spirit West Coast in San Diego and we thought that it would be FUN.

So, we got to the church and the kids started showing up.

As the crowd got larger, I got smaller.

I think he would have left without me if I hadn't been paying attention.

Literally, I ceased to exist.

As the van pulled out of the church parking lot, I felt my heart sink.

By the time we were on the freeway I was crying.

Quietly.

He didn't see me.

He didn't acknowledge me.

I'm not sure why I was even there.

The entire trip went this way.

If I told the girls they couldn't do something, he told them they could.

When it was time to go to the event he just disappeared with a group of kids.

When I told the kids not to swim at a beach with a sign posted warning people NOT to swim there because the water was contaminated with human waste, he said, "sure! jump in!"

Two kids got sick.

He didn't even notice when another guy leader (in a completely non-creepy way) saw that I was feeling abandoned and alone and offered to take our groups together to the next event.

Seriously. Another guy was cleaning up his mess and he didn't even blink an eye.

I could have disappeared for an entire day and he wouldn't have noticed.

This became the foundation for our marriage.

Ministry first.

Sacrifice .... for what?

I had never felt so alone and insignificant.

After that it just kept happening.

All of this leads to last night.

We were at LifePartners and Travis asked Joe to do something that seems kind of small. He asked him to just check in with me; make eye contact; make sure I can read his spirit.

While Travis was just saying the words my heart was groaning under the weight I've carried for 5 years.

The weight of being invisible.

The weight of being too much and not enough at the same time.

And then, after class, Joe actually DID it.

He found me outside, made eye contact with me and told me he was checking on me.

It was probably the first time in years that I KNEW he was seeing me; that I wasn't overlooked.

It was so small, but my heart jumped.

Like I said before, women have souls of glass.

We are MADE to be known and loved.

We come alive when we are noticed and appreciated.

Our lifeless hearts can be resurrected by continual acknowledgement.

It is SO simple, yet rarely attempted.

Unbreakable

In my short lifetime I have seen countless women abused in a slow, "acceptable" way.

Women as a whole are laughed at, brushed aside, considered "too emotional" and therefore, women are insignificant.

Some women are married to men who humiliate them in public by putting them in their place the moment they open their mouths.

Some women have only dated angry, aggressive and arrogant men because those men are FAMILIAR and they don't know any other way.

Some women spend their entire married lives with someone who has no interest in really knowing them at all.

Some women are told (and so believe) that their "job" is to serve their husbands; to make sure they are content and loved and relaxed.

These are lives of desperation.

Because women are beautifully fragile.

Women are born with a passion for beauty, for intimacy, and for creation.

Clearly, women don't all think the same, or look the same, or have the same dreams.

But ALL women have a soul of glass.

Women exist to be radiantly known.

Women are fulfilled when the contents of their inner beings are seen and loved.

Women are healed when they are allowed to live free and safe, without fear of being rejected when their hearts are exposed.

I don't mean to make it sound like women are weak. Women are anything BUT weak.

Every woman I have EVER known has an intense amount of strength and endurance. I think that women can bear up under the weight of rejection with more strength and dignity than any man.

Women are resilient.

I realize that I am writing this as if every woman in the world fits neatly into this little box that I've created.

But that's not my point at all!

Women are built with a common heart, something that connects us all. As a whole, we are somehow all the same.

We are wonderfully different, making up a beautiful field of growth and creation. But we are all in the same field.

If you're wondering, this IS personal for me.

I AM one of those women.

I have spent my heart on men who tossed me aside when I got too complicated.

I have dated abusive men.

I have dated cold and distant men.

I have been condescended to.

I have been shut down.

I have been lied to.

I have been despised, just for being a woman.

And, although my husband is NOT one of those men, I have suffered in my marriage.

I have been ignored.

I have been treated like I am invisible and irritating.

I have been cheated on.

I have been lied to.

I have been crushed by the expectation that I should just move on... get past "it".

I have been left alone, wondering what the hell is wrong with me.

I have spent hours... weeks... counting every single flaw in me.

I have listened to apologies that never actually take root.

I have been blamed for things I had nothing to do with.

Really.... tonight I am just sitting here so aware of how fragile I am.

And how beautiful that is.

Because as delicate and transparent my soul is, no one has shattered it.

I have put everything I have in front of people who have kicked it aside over and over and over again.

I'm still intact.

Were they right?

Never.

But do they define me?

Never.

I watched Rob Bell's video Everything Is Spiritual today and something in it reminded me that I am not really invisible, misunderstood and rejected.

Because God... who cannot even be DEFINED or KNOWN... has made me so fragile and delicate and different because he LIKES things that way.

HE connects to the core of me.

He wraps himself around my glass soul and he makes me unbreakable.

Women Who Inspire

Lately I am feeling so proud of the women in my life.

I have one girlfriend who is the definition of a servant. She can serve tirelessly and ENJOY it. She takes on extra, all night shifts at work to help someone in need. She is an amazing mom and wife. She is constantly ministering to her family. She works hard in her community. The best part - she is constantly uncovering truth and holiness and love. She has taught me endurance.

I have another girlfriend whose marriage was over. She had finally come to the end of every option. And then God did something she has been waiting for for 10 years - he broke through. SOMEHOW things are healthier and fuller than ever before. She has been faithfully surrendering every fear and obstacle to Jesus. She has taught me strength.

I have yet another girlfriend whose marriage had also come to a breaking point. She is the kind of woman who speaks her heart well and loud. She wrestled and struggled and battled... and then, one night, heard the whisper of Jesus. She broke. She turned. She waited. At the same time her husband was breaking. Reconciliation never looked so sweet. She has taught me to speak without fear.

And there is my cousin. She is, undeniably, the most sensitive, compassionate woman I have ever known. She is articulate and speaks with thought behind her words. As she puts it, she has walked around with a big hole for a long time. And last night, I watched the beauty of her heart, her life, her purpose come alive. She experienced something authentic. She wrestled with God. And when God touched her she was instantly changed. Years of praying for her freedom came to a beautiful moment where she was transformed by the love that redeems us. She has taught me to dig deep into the love of Jesus and find all of humanity resting there.

My grandma. This is the first time in my life that I have lived so close to her. She has always been the most interesting woman I know. She has confidence like Katherine Hepburn and she carries herself like a woman from a black and white movie. Every conversation we have reveals an intensely beautiful woman. When I see her, listen to her, think of her, my heart swells with pride. She has taught me that strong women can be elegant women.

My mama. She is strong and brave and deep. She has always, always, always lived in truth and humility. It is just recently that her vulnerability has become apparent to me. She quit her job to engage in the ministry that she and my dad have been serving in their entire lives... the ministry of living life. She is helping my grandma, counseling, running her own home (which is FULL of people all the time), and playing with my kids Sometimes, I still walk into her house early in the morning and find her sitting quietly with Jesus in the same quietness I have found her in my entire life. She has taught me stillness... and much much more.

And my mother in law. She is always helping, always engaging, always pouring out. She is full of courage and has a unique ability to rise above her circumstances. Recently I have watched her come alive. She is finding herself again and I think we have all breathed a sigh of relief. She is vibrant and full of life. She has taught me how to embrace my circumstances.

These are the women who are paving the way into a new definition of women. These women are changing the way I see womanhood, changing the way I see my role. Aren't we ALL constantly searching for the place we fit; for the part we play?

If not for a community of women to encourage and challenge us, we would be lost. There are countless more women who inspire me all the time. I would have to write a book to tell you about every one of them and how they have changed me.

Who has challenged you, inspired you, created hope and hunger in you? I encourage you to think of the women who have defined "woman" for you. Think of the women who have lived lives of beauty, of struggle and victory. Think of the women who have conquered the role laid out for them. Think of the women who have made a way for us all to be found free and strong.

Find a way to acknowledge them. Find a way to thank them. Even find a way to thank God for the gift of relationships.

This is MY way of saying thank you to every woman I know. This is my way of acknowledging your pursuit of truth and freedom.

Pure grace and nothing but grace to you....

Love Is In The Action

This is one of those seasons in life when God is so clearly speaking.... and I am so clearly distracted.

Most nights I end up kicking myself because I've missed it.

Everywhere I turn the Spirit is whispering, revealing a fresh breath of life.

This is the first quiet, reflective moment I have had in weeks. This is the first time I've grabbed hold of silence and chosen to be internal, rather than external.
I've been busy and distracted and stubborn.

Here is proof:

A few months ago one of my closest friendships ended. It was ugly and painful. We both lost a lot in one conversation. We lost family and support and years of friendship. We also lost unhealthy patterns and frustration and a destructive silence.

Last week I saw her and was very surprised to learn that I felt nothing but love for her. I had expected resentment, defensiveness... maybe even anger.

Nope.

Not even a moment of anything but love...

Which made me a little freaked out.

I started trying to create bitterness towards her. I tried to think of things that would make me angry at her.... it's not like I didn't have enough ammunition...

And then I saw her again, a few days later.

Still... love.

Here is where my stubbornness creeps in...

I heard the Spirit stirring and whispering in me. So simple... "Go ask her if she needs help".

Nope.

Not gonna happen.

I actually HEARD God moving me forward and I was screaming back at Him, "NO!"

Then, with a single question, my selfish resolve crumbled.

My stubborn resistance shattered.

"What do you have to lose but your own self?"

So I stood up, shook off my fear and walked out of the room to where she was.

I asked her.

She said no.

For a moment we made eye contact and my heart broke.

I went back into the room...

And was flooded with truth, peace... revelation...

Why do I resist God?

Why do I think that poison and bitterness will protect me?

Is there ANYTHING in the Bible that tells us to build up strong walls around our hearts to keep people from hurting us?

What made me think that I was safe?

The next day I read 1 John 3:18.

"Dear Children, let us not love with words or tongue, but with actions and in truth."

The Bible is overflowing with words about love... love protects us, covers our sin, frees us from fear, rescues us, redeems us...

But love is more than words. If we just talk about it then we are empty ... "a banging gong or a clanging cymbal".

Love has to be LIVED.

Love has to be in our actions.

Love has to be in the truth that surrounds us and saturates us.

I feel like today I am closing a door.

The last few months have been overwhelming.

I have been selfish and cold.

I've allowed myself to be distracted by everything.

But this morning, I can say that all this time God has been working something deep and
profound in me.

I have been wrestling with God.

And I am leaving this place changed... different.

Because everywhere I turn love is being spoken; the message of truth is sinking into my life, no matter how hard I fight it.

I am learning something new.

I can love people, taking hold of the gift of being free from resentment and anger.

I can hope for reconciliation... not restoration of friendship necessarily, but reconciliation of peace.

So, thank you, Jesus! I don't love revealing my flesh, but i DO love revealing your mercy!

God Is In This...

The last few days have been incredibly stressful.

We found out, very suddenly, that we had to move out this weekend (as opposed to next weekend, which was our original plan). This basically required my cousin and I to spend the entire day trying to pack my whole house.

For different reasons NONE of my girlfriends could help me pack. My mom is out of town (and feeling guilty that she isn't here). My brother had other plans. My husband was at work. My mother in law was at work (and came as soon as she was off). My dad, thankfully, watched my kids for most of the day.

There was one point when I sat on the floor trying not to cry. My sweet, mercy-girl cousin sat with me, feeling every ounce of frustration and abandonment that I was feeling.

Lets top this off with the fact that I have committed to teaching a holy yoga class in Sedona (3 hours away) tomorrow.

So, I have to spend the entire day alone in my car while my husband tries to move EVERYTHING.

Do you see how the stress is rising?

My cousin, Lisa, is always saying these astonishing God-filled things. She is always re-directing my frustration and anger. Today was no different.

Today, she was the voice of Jesus, asking me to trust.

When I finally sat down to attempt putting a class together for tomorrow, I remembered a story from the Bible that I haven't thought of in a very, very long time. As always, it meant something new to me...

I remembered Elijah in 1 Kings 19.

He was beaten, running for his life.

He laid down under a broom tree in the middle of the desert and cried out to God.

He asked to die.

Life was too much and he had no hope left.

The world would surely destroy him.

But God sent an angel to feed and water him. Twice.

And then the angel told Elijah to get up and enter the desert.

So Elijah traveled for 40 days and 40 nights... surely a sign of a man in exile.

He came to Mount Horeb.

He stood outside the mouth of a cave and he waited for God to speak.

First there was a mighty wind.

God was not in the mighty wind.

And then there was an earthquake.

God was not in the earthquake.

And then there was a fire.

God was not in the fire.

But then there came a whisper... soft... still... quiet... powerful.

God was in the whisper.

God spoke.

He replanted Elijah's dead calling.

He reaffirmed Elijah's purpose.

He called Elijah back to life and sent him back to the place he had come from.

Why did God bring Elijah all this way to speak to him?

Why not just set him straight in the desert?

Maybe because Elijah needed the journey.

Maybe he needed to get far away from the stress of his life to come to a place where he could recognize God in the whisper.

Maybe the only way to save Elijah's fallen heart was to bring him deep into a secret place, fill him with supernatural nourishment and speak softly to his broken heart.

For some reason God has been letting me feel alone... abandoned.

For some reason God has been giving me no choice but to follow him into a little desert.

And tomorrow I am going to be more alone than I have been in a very, very long time.

I am tired. I feel beaten down and temporarily hopeless.

Maybe I NEED the journey.

Maybe I NEED to hear the whisper.

Maybe I NEED a secret, quiet place.

So, at the end of the day, I am surrounded by boxes...

I am exhausted...

I am not sure what to expect when I wake up...

But this one thing is clear...

Jesus is leading me somewhere.

Single Mommies

I spent the week sympathizing with single moms.

My husband was gone for 5 days for work and I was left alone with both of my children.

Don't get me wrong - I loooooooove my babies. There is no one else in the world I would rather spend a week with than my babies.

The first two days I felt empowered. I thought, "Amazingly, I can do this."

God was CLEARLY sustaining me. I had energy. My house was clean. I made dinner. We played. We were adventuring!

And then the depth of being alone slammed into me.

Judah got sick. Aravis got cranky. I was suddenly worn down.

And, although my community of people would have come to my rescue if I had begged for relief, I was truly alone.

My job started at 6:15am when Judah woke up with a stuffy nose and didn't end until I hit the pillow at 9pm. I slept restlessly, with both of my children in my room. I woke up more tired than I had been when I passed out from exhaustion.

But, on Saturday morning at 12:30am, my husband came home.

And I am not alone anymore.

Which makes me ache for women who live the life that nearly leveled me.

I have a new respect for women who raise children alone because NOW I know that it doesn't matter who pitches in every now and then.

If you don't have a partner then you carry the heaviest burden in the world on your back.

There is no relief great enough. There is no REAL rest.

You, alone, are responsible for the emotional, physical, mental and spiritual well-being of another human being.

And that is scary enough when someone else is in it with you.

If you are a single mom... or even a mom who might as well be single because you are doing everything on your own (I've been there too)... then know that right now, as I type this, I am lifting a plea to Jesus for help for you.

My hope is that you will be Divinely sustained through the hardest parts and sweetly comforted through the restful places.

My prayer is that you will be so connected to the Presence of God that your heart will find it's only home in Him.

I am praying blessings over your children and your home; blessings over your sleep and whatever time you find to be alone; blessings over your relationships; blessings over your mind and sanity; blessings over your need for a LIFE; blessings over you.

My firm, heartfelt belief is that God has created community to protect us, to strengthen us and to ignite hope in us.

May your community be a source of peace and strength for you; may they jump in to help you without being asked; may they pray for you and with you; may they encourage you and may you encourage them.

Pure grace and nothing but grace to you...

Creation

I planted things today. I held rich, dark, beautiful earth in my hands and i got DIRTY.

I sprinkled tiny, miraculous seeds into the soft, imperfect rows of soil.

I felt more alive, while connecting to the earth and the process of sustaining growth, than I have in a long, long time.

Afterwards, the world seemed brighter, I felt more centered, and hope felt like a real and tangible object.

It might seem like I am putting too much beauty into something as simple as digging in the dirt and scattering some seeds around.

I challenge you to do it.

Wake up early.

Turn the soil.

Fertilize the soil.

Make rows in the soft dirt.

Cup a handful of colorful seeds.

Sprinkle them, all the while knowing exactly what will spring out of those little miracles.

Cover the seed with dirt.

Water the seeds.

Step back.

Breathe the still and fresh air.

Feel the sun and the breeze on your skin.

And know that you have taken part in something Divine.

Growth.

Creation.

Life.

And then observe the world.

See the vastness of the sky;

The depth of humanity;

Feel the ground beneath your feet;

The hope that pulsates in every human heart.

Taste the flavor of food;

The sweetness of love on your lips.

Hear Creation chirping and buzzing and blowing past you;

The sounds of interaction and longing between men and women everywhere.

Something spiritual comes to life in us when we reconnect with God's vibrant creation.

Something cold and dreary snaps in half when we are reminded of Who created us and what he created us from.

What a miracle that God made the earth capable of sustaining and nourishing us!

What a gift that we can take part in it!

As a WOMAN, I can clearly say that I am completely in awe of my Creator.

I am so moved by the greatness of His creation.

Spending an hour and a half in a garden - not even my OWN garden - was such a spiritual encounter.

I am so grateful that God has made everything around us for the purpose of communicating life to us.

So, here is the question....

How have you heard God? Where have you encountered Him?

Movies? Books? Music? Friends? Gardens? Somewhere unexpected and strange?

God is ALWAYS communicating to us. His word is alive and active. He is speaking, moving, creating.

Are we listening? Are we watching? Are we noticing?

I am so aware of how often I miss it....

The God Who Sustains Me

we breathe in
and choke on the words
caught in our throats

we bleed out
and watch our energy drip away

there is more than enough
to inspire love in our dull minds
yet here we are
staring blankly at each other

we are stirring up a whirlwind

we are breaking apart

we are gasping for air

we are teetering on the edge

and the edge is calling

so grab my heart

and pull me back

wipe the wind from my eyes
and my tears from the air

catch me or i'll fly

and the beauty will be lost

the bridge will snap

we will fall asleep
and forget to dream

we are pretending
to not notice

so, notice

and i promise

i wont leave the ground

I can't even tell you how many times I have felt the ground sagging and splintering beneath me. My marriage has been rolling around on a frail foundation since day one.

Clearly, we were imperfect human beings drawn to one another and desperate to belong somewhere. We were filled with love for one another and beautiful ideas of what marriage would look like.

We talked endlessly.

We planned relentlessly.

We even prayed with a determined singleness of heart!

We were SO unprepared.

We had a very unique beginning.

Our story is dramatic and powerful. It is moving and crushing at the same time.

He was my best friend for 6 years. I loved him deeply... passionately... completely. But not romantically.

I witnessed every crush, every relationship... even his engagement (and the devastating ENDING of his engagement) to another woman. We worked at the same job in highschool. We worked in the same ministries. We prayed. We climbed mountains. We made promises.

He watched my heart weaving in and out of abusive relationships. He held me when I cried. He ate dinner at my house more often than not. He rode around in my very old lincoln towncar with me. He listened to my secrets and my fears. He stood like a faithful sentry at my bed in the ER. He slept on my floor the night after I tried to kill myself.

He became a part of my family. He was as familiar and as faithful as my own brothers.

But it wasn't until he was crushed, hopeless and broken that I truly saw him.

My heart still jumps at the memory of who he was.

I clearly remember the strangeness... even the sweetness... of being so drawn to him.

I had never felt so alive. I had never felt so full of adventure and strength.

And I had never had so much to lose.

Somehow we entered into marriage with the idea that ministry was immensely important. We jumped right in. He took a job as a youth pastor for a new church. We moved 30 minutes away from everyone we knew.

Let's throw in hormones. I was pregnant. Insanely pregnant.

The kind of pregnant that makes grown men shudder.

I yelled. I cried. I locked doors. I came up with arguments that still confuse me. I slept anywhere but in my own bed. I didn't want to be touched for almost my entire pregnancy.

I was home alone all day, in a very bad part of town, cleaning, doing laundry, watching tv and crying.

I didn't see my family... or my friends. I didn't even really talk on the phone.

All this time I felt so much pressure to "be" something. My husband was the youth pastor. He poured his life into these kids... and still worked his full time job.

I was drowning. And I had no way of voicing it.

When my daughter was born I crawled into my little cave, with my little baby, and slammed the door shut.

There were times when I attempted to be the "wife" I was supposed to be, but, mostly, I just wanted to be left alone.

The more time that passed, the more I lost control.

I was constantly aware of how invisible I was to my husband. I spent almost all of my time obsessing over my home or my daughter.

I became fearful.

At night I would check the locks and the windows 3-4 times; I would pray the same prayers over and over again - word for word.

I got up to check on Aravis throughout the night.

I don't think I slept through the night for an entire year.

I hated myself.

I hated my life.

I cried constantly.

And I felt guilty for it.

Weren't we doing what we were supposed to be doing? Wasn't this what EVERYONE ELSE was doing?

How come I was the only one hating it?

One day he came home and I said the most honest thing I have ever said.

"I hate you."

He didn't even seem surprised.

I told him to quit one of his jobs or I would leave him.

He did.

Mercifully, it was the ministry job.

And then we moved our little family into my parent's house for a year and a half with a clear calling from God...

No ministry for at least a year. Nothing. Our family was our ministry.

To be honest, we didn't even go to church for about 7 months. And even after that, it was maybe once a month.

It felt GOOD. Really, really good.

I am so aware that our friends thought we had lost our minds. They didn't approve. Why would they? Isn't "ministry" what it is all about?

We learned a new kind of ministry. One that filled us, instead of draining us. One that encouraged us, instead of ripping us apart. One that, biblically, made a whole lot of sense.

We lived life. We made every effort to love God and to love people. And we never, ever put a ministry, a church, or even another person before each other. We played with our daughter. We talked. We connected... probably for the first time in our marriage.

It was a very sweet season. It was a short season.

IN that season, God encouraged me. He built up a mountain of hope and love in me.

And when life came crashing to a halt again, I could hear his faithful whisper, "I WILL sustain you."

We are daily recovering from sin and flesh. We are almost always battling to stay married. We are confronted with truth and selfishness everyday.

There are times when my feet want to leave the ground; I am so wounded and afraid, that I just want to fall off the edge of our marriage and see what happens.

There are times when I am invisible, desperate, ignored.

There are times when I am left questioning who this man is. Who did I marry?

In THOSE times, I lean on the firm, clear whisper that has kept me from imploding.

"I WILL sustain you."

"I WILL sustain you."

There are also times when I remember why I married my husband.

There are times when I feel alive and noticed.

There are times when I feel free from the weight of my fear and insecurity.

There are times when I feel connected and full of hope.

In THOSE times I am certain that I can clearly see the fulfillment of that promise.

God HAS sustained me. God HAS come into the tangled mess of my marriage and begun the slow work of bringing order and life to the chaos that we, as tired human beings, have unknowingly created.

Isn't that hope?

Expectation that something miraculous will bloom out of the dirty and selfish mess we have made.

The Universal Question

I have a 3 1/2 year old daughter. She is intelligent, sensitive and so smart. She is truly a beautiful human being.

Sometimes I happen to see her face when she is rejected or ignored.

I watch her face fall.

I watch her heart sink.

I watch a piece of her fade away.

And I'm not talking about a major rejection here.

I am talking about someone simply not hearing her or acknowledging her.

It is a serious blow to a 3 1/2 year old.

The same question echos in her heart that echos in mine: "Who am I? Am I good enough? Am I TOO much?"

Sometimes she will say, "I need someone to hold me really bad!"

When I am connected enough to see it, I am struck by how universal that statement is!

Aren't we all crying out with the same little, fragile heart?!

Aren't we all saying, "PLEASE someone acknowledge me! PLEASE someone affirm me! PLEASE someone tell me that I am wanted!"?

I remember the first time I put my daughter in the nursery at church.

It took me MONTHS to get up the courage to leave her with someone else, but I finally forced myself to try it.

In the middle of the service I went to check on her.

I peeked around the corner only to see my daughter sitting, alone, in a walker, in the corner of the room.

The woman watching the kids had all of the other children on the opposite side of the room, with her back turned to my daughter.

My little one sat straining her little head, trying to see what everyone else was doing.

My heart raged. I took her out.

(I DID put her in the nursery again, eventually, in case you are wondering).

Don't you think that God sees us, alone in the corner? Don't you think that He sees when everyone else has their backs turned to us? Don't you think that he sees when we are forgotten? Neglected? Alone?

And don't you think that God is (as a protective parent would be) MOVING to rescue us?

It might seem like a long, long time until we see him coming. We might not even realize that he DOES, in fact, see us!

He hears our cry. He reads the hidden words of our hearts. He knows when we are too tired to lift up our heads. He knows when we are too lonely to utter a sound. He knows when we are left alone in the corner of the room.

And he hears us when we, out of our deep questioning, say, "I need someone to hold me."

We may be older, wiser, more aware... but we are all still human. We are as human as my daughter.

The question is in us from day one.

"Who am I? Am I good enough? Am I too much?"

And the answer has been speeding towards us before we could even learn to form a thought.

"I see you. I hear you. I am coming to rescue you."

The Choice Laid Before Us

Who may ascend the hill of the Lord?

Who may stand in His holy place?

He who has clean hands and a pure heart...

(Psalm 24)

For those of us who have been riding the "roller coaster" of life with a man who doesn't yet know who he is created to be, those three lines have to sound cold.

What does it take to make our way up to God's "holy place?"

What do we have to do to be clean enough, pure enough, FREE enough?

There doesn't seem to be a real answer.

It SEEMS like the only hope for Divine communion is to be "good", to follow the rules so that we are truly pure of heart.

So, we shrink back. We see the enormous mountain of what we will NEVER accomplish, or be, and we allow our frail hearts to cower in humilation.

Then what? Truly, we die.

Our hearts give out; our spirits grow weak.

We let out a tiny whisper... "it's too much."

That is, this is our response IF we are THAT woman.

We are NOT. :)

THIS is why...

The hebrew word used in this passage for "ascend" is ALAH.

Do you know what alah means?

It means "to go up, ascend, rise; TO BE LIFTED UP, withdraw, be exalted; to take up, set up, OFFER A SACRIFICE; TO BE OFFERED UP, be carried away, be recorded; to raise oneself up.

So, in truth, we become a sacrifice. We lay our lives, our hurts, our needs, our rights, our past, our future, even our present on the altar and we let it all go up in smoke!

There are some of us who are so neglected, so wounded, so overwhelmed with our significant other's complete lack of life, connection and purpose that we actually feel like we are DYING inside.

Maybe we are.

There are studies that show that we, as human beings, will DIE without physical touch. We will slowly die. It is THAT important.

So, could the same be said for our deep need to be KNOWN, to be UNDERSTOOD, to be ACCEPTABLE?

We NEED physical touch. Do we NEED emotional connection? Is it an actual need?

I don't have a study to prove it, but my personal belief is YES. I have lived enough of my life being invisible and emotionally neglected, that I can, with all of my heart, scream, "YES!"

Women NEED to be acceptable - more than that, they need to be CONNECTED. We need to be spiritually nourished. We need to have hope set before us without it being yanked away by selfish hands.

So, this is where we come back to the meaning of the word "ascend". This is the BEAUTY of our faithful God who DOES see us; who DOES nourish us; who DOES place an inexhaustable hope before us with a sincere and unbreakable promise that he will NEVER remove it.

We who are struggling to mantain something resembling a life, will probably all agree that we are daily experiencing something resembling emotional murder.

Our hearts are being crushed. Our thoughts are being ignored. Our spirits are being neglected.

So, Psalm 24 is telling us that the only way to the "holy place" is to become a sacrifice.

Either way, we are losing ourselves.

The choice laid before us is this:

Will we be murdered?

Or will we be a willing sacrifice?

Let me make this clear: I am not, IN ANY WAY, suggesting that we just quietly lay down under emotional neglect or abuse and take the blows!

I AM suggesting that we allow God to make good on His promise, " And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28).

Can God take this emotional death and use it as a sacrifice, lifting the vapors of our pure existence, our surrender to the King of Kings, into the holy of holies?

Can God release us from the deep aching question, "will this EVER end?"

Can God reveal TRUE purpose and pure beauty in us in the midst of this painful experience?

Most importantly, do we have to wait for the other person (most likely the MAN) to lead us into a spiritual awakening?

I am FULLY convinced that God is present and moving in our suffering and in our sacrifice. He is FOR freedom!He is FOR deliverance! The Bible is FULL of God's longing to redeem and rescue. It is literally pouring off of the pages!

I am also convinced that, although there cannot be freedom and wholeness in our marriages without the spiritual brokenness of BOTH people, Jesus is for our individual freedom no matter what.

So, all of this to say - if you are, like me, reeling from years of confusion and lonliness, take heart! You are NOT alone! God has not forgotten you!

Most importantly, you have a CHOICE. You get to decide which road you take.

There IS a road that leads to healing and holiness.

That road requires that we die to ourselves.

That road requires that we choose to be an offering.

That road requires that we stop blaming and despising the people who have been emotionally murdering us.

I am certain that THIS is the road to freedom.