Withholding Good

I am going to tell you a story that makes me look bad.  I just have to put that out there. 

It's actually a story of me acting like this:

Instead of what I should have been, which is this:

The other day, I took the boys with me to Goodwill to help Rhianna look for some stuff she needed.  Rhianna and I start looking at clothes, and Joe asks if he and Josh can go look at books.  I tell that is fine, not to talk to strangers, don't eat things from the floor etc...and he and his brother happily go to look at books.

A little while later, Joe returns holding a book.  He says, "Hey Jessica, I found this book and it looks interesting."  I glance at him and say, without even thinking about it, "You're not getting that Joe."  He hangs his head and says, "Okay." and walks back to the books.  I watch him go to make sure he put it back and then continued on with the clothes hunt.

Right before we were all ready to leave, I with my goodies, Rhianna with hers and the boys with nothing, Joe comes up to me again holding the book and says, "Jessica, if you buy me this book, I will pay you back."  I tell him (in an irritated tone), "Joe, I already said no.  It's not okay for you to pester me.  I told you no and I mean it."  He again hangs his head and this time returns the book for reals.

(As if the above wasn't enough, here comes the part that really makes me look like a jerk.  Be prepared.)

On the drive home, Rhianna tells me that she is short on cash and I offer to lend her $20.00 without even a thought.  I go to the bank, get the money, hand it over to her and then we all go home.  I am ashamed to admit this, but the enormity of what I had done didn't even dawn on me until this afternoon, in the quiet of the day, when I finally had time to think it through.  I, without a thought, had refused to lend Joseph $1.49 but had no issues loaning Rhianna $20.00, and God, in His loving and gracious manner revealed to me why:  Rhianna is my child, Joseph is not.  I cry as I write this because as much as I care and love the boys, this incident exposed my heart and the feelings that I have that the boys just aren't "mine" and how desperately selfish these feelings had driven me to be.  I have always, always worried about becoming a "wicked" stepmother and this day was the first time I truly believed that I was.

The truth is that being a stepmother is the hardest thing I have ever done.  I wasn't there when these boys were developing their natures, their personalities, their childlike world views.  I came into the picture three and a half years ago with my children almost completely raised and pretty much the way I had hoped.  In envisioning what my life would be like at 40, it most certainly didn't include two chocolate-eyed ankle biters!  Most of the time, I feel like the "one parent too many" in this equation, and kind of miffed that I have all the responsibilities of mothering these two boys with none of the decision making power. 

But regardless of all that drama, malfunction and just plain sinfulness, none of this is the fault of those two little boys.  God drove this point home with this verse from Proverbs 3:27:

"Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act."

This thing I do know: those two boys deserve good.  They deserve love.  They deserve fairness.  They deserve books from Goodwill and the all the full attention and love I can offer them.  I may not be their mother, but I can be their friend.  I am so ashamed of the way I behaved, but I know that God revealed this cold, calloused part of my heart because He desires me to be more than I am.  With His help, I can take this ugly, jerky part of myself and grow up a little.  I am constantly amazed how often I still whine about the unfairness of life.  You'd think I would have gotten the memo.

So, on Saturday, when Joe returns to our house, he is going to find a book waiting for him.  With the help of my Heavenly Father, I am going to give Joseph not only the book that he asked for, but an open heart to give he and Joshua what God asked of me.   

Unemployed

I, like 12.7 million other Americans am unemployed.  It's so surreal, finding yourself a part of a statistic that you are almost completely helpless to change.  Think about it.  Everyone knows how "tough" our economy is.  For a single receptionist job paying minimum wage, an employer may receive over 200 applications!  Day after day, I comb through the virtual world of want ads hoping to find something, anything to apply for that could result in a job for me that would pay me more than I am making on unemployment.  Since losing my job 50 days ago, I have applied for over 25 positions.  I have only heard back from one (didn't get it---ha ha).  The rest of the jobs just hang out there in the realm of "maybe".  Believe me when I say folks, living with "maybe" isn't easy. 

Being unemployed is disorienting for someone like me.  I like a certain orderliness to my days.  Get up, get ready for the day, do my bible study, have breakfast, leave for work by 8am.  Do my work, come home, make dinner for my family, visit with my hubby, bed by 10pm.  Sounds so monotonous doesn't it?  You know what's even worse than monotony?  Boredom.  Endless days of no where to go and nothing to do.  I don't tell people that I am bored any more.  I have learned the hard way that people reject the notion that I could be bored in a knee jerk fashion.  Do you know how many people tell me they would love to be bored?  I remember when I was working, I was always wishing for more time to_____________. Fill in the blank with any of the million little things that need to be done as a working mother.  Think about having eight hours dropped into your day to get all of those million little things done.  And done they are.  Now what?  No laundry to do, it's all caught up.  Toilets are cleaned.  Cat is brushed.  Lint picked off the snuggle blankets.  For a while, I tried watching television during the middle of the day. It just felt...unproductive. I feel guilty for sitting there knowing that Rene' is out in the heat working his tooshie off and I am sitting on a couch watching reruns of Mork and Mindy.

Why go to bed at 10pm when you don't have to get up and go to work?  Why get up at 5am when you can sleep until 9 and no one cares?  It feels so wrong to me.  I sometimes feel embarrassed for sleeping in.  As though staying up late and sleeping in makes me a "slacker".  The interesting thing is that when I was a "stay at home" mom and not "unemployed", I never had such guilt.  I would sleep in with my kiddos, watch "Toy Story" in the middle of the afternoon, stay up super late catching up on my reading and all with no guilt.  In the past few years I have shed that freedom and become weighted down with the guilt of the working woman.  

I have read a lot of books.  I cannot afford to buy them any more so I make a bi-weekly journey to the library, load myself up with 12-14 books and go home.  I get excited when I have new books.  Something new to look forward to.  I read and read and read and read.  I read until until my eyes hurt.  I find a lot of solace in those pages.  I have time to read long, sweeping novels again; Beach Music, The Tea Rose, Sepulchre, Water for Elephants have all captured my imagination for a time.  I have no desire to live in the worlds I read about, but it is nice to be an unseen observer hovering above someone else's tragedy for a while.

Unlike most of my other blogs, I have no overarching "lesson" I have learned to offer.  I am writing this because I want to share what being unemployed is really like...I always have had a desire to people to learn from my experiences.  I don't want to end this blog without saying I have hope.  I do.  Why I do is plain; I am a child of God. 

His Message to Me

We've all been there.  Life is hard, times are tough, and we start looking for that word, that comfort to make it all better.  We call our friends.  We post on Facebook.  We text our "peeps".  We reach out beyond ourselves for that something to alleviate the pain.  If we are blessed, our friends respond.  They comfort us with their words, their hugs, their promises of prayer and for a moment, it's okay. 

But the pain always comes back.  Sometimes worse than ever before.  Sometimes, there is a hollowness accompanying the pain.  That empty feeling that tells your spirit that life is never going to be okay again.  Then where do you go?

This has been a very difficult month for me, to say the least.  The loss of my job, my house, financial distress and family issues have made the days seem very, very long.  I struggle to manage my thoughts; they swing back and forth between hopefulness and despair.  For a while, I will feel a glimmer of hope; I know that God loves me and has a plan for my life.  Yippee!  Five minutes later, I am lonely.  I am bored.  I have no one. Nothing. No one loves me.  Life sucks.  Wah wah wah.

Truthfully, there is nothing anyone can say to make things better.  Life circumstances are such that as wonderful as your friend's well meaning words feel, they dissipate under the crush of warring emotions.  They comfort but don't sustain.

Sometimes, you just need a word from the Lord.

The other day, I was there.  I sat down with my bible and rather than beginning my usual morning study routine, I just sat there holding the Word.  I prayed, "God, I just need to hear from you.  I am tired and I am wrung out, guide me where you want me to go."  I opened up my bible and just let the pages fall open.  This is what I read:

"Therefore, since the promise of entering His rest still stands, let us be careful that none of you be found to have fallen short of it.  For we also have had the Gospel preached to us, just as they did; but the message they heard was of no value to them, because those who heard it, did not combine it with faith." 
Hebrews 4: 1-2

I read these verses over and over again.  God's promise of rest still stands?  Why don't I feel "rested"?  How can this be true when I feel so tired?  I read the verses again desperately trying to understand, when a light clicked on and one phrase jumped out: "...but the message they heard was of no value to them...because they did not combine it with faith."  Suddenly, everything was clear.  God's rest IS available to me---but do I have the faith to enter in?  Do I have the faith to believe His message?  Not just the promise of rest, but all of His messages to me?

My mind raced.  I have been a Christian for nearly 26 years and I have read the promises of God more times than I can even estimate, but suddenly, all that was meaningless.  My head knowledge of God's promises bring no comfort to me in times of trouble because my faith is weak and I am haunted with unbelief.

In my mind, I went back through the promises of God that I have sought to claim but unable to hold on to;

"All things work together for good...",
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty"
"For in the day of trouble, He will keep me safe in His dwelling; He will hide me in the shelter of His sacred tent and set me high upon a rock."
"I will never leave you nor forsake you..."

Friends, I am not exaggerating when I say that this epiphany has changed the way I view God and my responsibility in my walk with Him.  It's not enough to read His word, quote it in your head or put it as a Facebook status.  You have to believe it.  Believe it in a way that all the world can see and believe it in the nooks and crannies of your heart.  This paradigm shift in my thinking has also changed my prayer life.  I find myself quoting this beautiful phrase spoken to Jesus by a man who's son was possessed by a demon, "Lord, I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief!"  (Mark 9: 24)  With tears in his eyes, this man who lived 2000 years ago, spoke the words of my heart.

Although I am no where near fully understanding God and His ways, once again God has used the uglies in my life to teach me another aspect of His character.  I am so thankful for Him. 

"Faith is not some weak and pitiful emotion, but is a strong and vigorous confidence built on the fact that God is Holy Love.  And even though you cannot understand what He's doing, you know Him."

~Oswald Chambers

 

Perfect Strength and My Weakness

Tomorrow I won't be going to work.  For the first time in many years I won't have a job.  I am not really sure what to do with myself.  The pain I feel when I reflect on how my job ended is very deep.  There is so much more involved in my work that just work---feelings of adequacy, feelings of self-worth and self-esteem.  Who am I without my job?  Who am I now that I am no longer a "social worker"?

I am not going to lie---I have sinned against God since I lost my job.  I have doubted Him.  I have been angry with Him.  I have felt as though He was playing games with my life.  I mean, to give Rene' and I hope that we could stay here in this house only to have the rug pulled out from under us...that seemed so...mean.   I have felt sorry for myself.  I have cried.  I have raged.  I have despaired.

Today we were driving home from looking at yet another house that I didn't want to live in and I felt utter and complete hopelessness wash over me.  Friends, it was bleak.  It's that feeling that the sun is never going to shine, that you have seen your last rainbow and that you will never get to eat hot fudge sundaes again.  It has been a long, long time since that feeling has come over me.  So long in fact, that I recognized it for what it was:  total disobedience and zero trust of God.  I guess what I am trying to say is that I have grown too much in the Lord to stay in this place.  He has become too dear, His ways have become too precious, His voice is the sweetest voice I know.  I cannot stay in this place because I have learned the hard way that I cannot do this life on my own and that the longer I wallow, the farther from Him I get.  I don't want that.  I want to feel the that "peace that passes all understanding".  Believe me, the peaceful feeling is far preferable to the feeling of being in a bottomless dark hole. 

I have hope.  At this moment I have no more information regarding the future than I had this morning, but this is what I do know:

1) God has a plan for my life.
"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope."  Jeremiah 29:11

2)  God is forming me into a better version of me as He guides me through life events that are momentary and pale in comparison to what He has prepared for me.
"So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal."  2 Corinthians 4:16-18

3)  God is intimately aware of my circumstances and will save me.
"The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet you by His love; He will exult over you with loud singing."  Zephaniah 3:17

I just want to say "Thank you" to Jesus for His great and unfailing love.  My prayer is that one day, it won't take me two days to trust---it will be automatic and ingrained.  Still, I am grateful for His opening of my eyes and His forgiveness.  Truly, His strength is made perfect in my weakness.

Like a Frog in Water

Remember that old story about frogs and boiling water?  You know, if you try to put a frog in hot water he will immediately hop out, but if you put a frog in cool water and gradually turn up the heat, he will stay in there and boil to death?  I was thinking today that toxic and unhealthy relationships can be like that frog in the cool water:  the heat can creep up on you until you are boiled alive in something that was once refreshing and uplifting.

I recently ended a friendship.  Once upon a time, this person was my very best friend.  With her, I laughed harder than with anyone else in my whole life and shared more tears than I like to remember. We met when I was just recently separated from my ex-husband.  She was so accepting and understanding! This was a huge breath of fresh air for me after being condemned and judged by so many who had no clue what I was going through.  We connected on a very deep level and I felt that she truly understood me.  She was, in all ways, my BFF.

So, one might ask, what is the problem?  What could possibly have happened that would cause me to end such a deep and caring friendship?

The bottom line:  Core values.


As much as I have always loved my friend, our values never quite matched.  No matter how I say this, I know I  am going to sound "judgmental" but,  the crux of the matter is that although my friend was an intelligent, educated and oh so clever, she was not a Christian.   Honestly, were I searching for a mate instead of investing in a "best" type friendship, this lone fact would have been deal-breaker for me.

The bible states, "How can any two walk together, lest they be agreed?" (Amos 3:3) and although this verse is usually referenced about marriages, I believe it can also apply to intimate friendships.  My relationship with Jesus Christ is not just a core value, He is THE core value of my life.  I now know that in order for me to truly be "free" in my friendships to share my heart and be truly understood, Jesus Christ has to be THE core value for my friend as well.  (The exact why I chose this person to become so close to when I know, and am friends with, so many amazing Christian women, is the topic of another blog perhaps.)

Looking back on all the "red flags" I ignored, I now wonder why it took me so long to see that I was compromising myself (and my faith) by not standing up for what I believed in.  I was afraid to disagree with her about many of the things she fervently believed. There were so many times I disagreed with things that she said, did and accepted and never spoke up because I was fearful of being deemed "judgmental"  or "unyielding".  The crazy thing is that I have never been one to keep silent when I felt as though something was wrong, but I feared losing the friendship and the support.  The unhealthiness of such a dynamic crept up on me.

Years pass in this way until finally inevitably , something happened in our friendship that I could not overlook.  All at once, all the excuses, the "understanding" that I extended, and yes, the compromise culminated in one final OH MY GOSH moment causing me to see that I could no longer continue in this unhealthy and toxic relationship and become the person I have committed to Jesus to be.

I now realize that true friendship, like a good marriage, has to be on an equal footing or it will fail.  I love the differences and quirks of my friends, but ultimately, we have to fundamentally believe in the same things.  Our core values, morals and intimacy with Christ make us who we are.  And if I might offer a small piece of advice?  Please listen to the little voice in your head when it tells you something is not quite right.  It took me far too long to recognize the voice of the Holy Spirit.

This has been a painful and sad lesson for me.

Breaking Free from Family Patterns

One of the most heartbreaking memories I have of my mother occurred not when I was a child (although believe me, there were an abundance of those as well), but when I was well over thirty and reaching out to her in an effort to repair our very broken relationship.

I had been in therapy for over a year and a half, working through the pain of my sexual and physical abuse at the hands of her husband. My mom knew I was in therapy, but refused to speak to me about my past and patently refused to acknowledge the trauma I had experienced. She chose to shove her head in the sand and stonewall conversation by saying, "I don't remember, I didn't know, I did the best I could." These responses were unsatisfying to me. Without acknowledgement of wrongdoing and forgiveness, I knew that our relationship would be forever doomed to surface platitudes and deep-seated pain. I wanted so desperately to heal our relationship, to move past the hurt I felt toward her, that I approached my mother and asked her if she would join me at a counseling session since she was going to be in town anyway. I was overjoyed when she agreed.

I am sure you can figure out what happened next. She arrived at the therapist's office with an attitude. She was defensive and combative. She wouldn't listen to me, she interrupted me, she told the therapist to "shut up" and stormed out. My mom had walked away from me---again. It was over in less than 15 minutes. I was devastated. In that moment, I knew that I would never have the relationship with my mother that I wanted and that my dreams to be one of those women whose mom was their best friend was just that-a dream.

Fast forward ten years.

My daughter and I had hit a crossroads. We desperately loved each other, but could not communicate. Hurt feelings, misunderstandings, painful words and bucket loads of regrets had strained our relationship. During one of our last "skirmishes", after a complete rehashing of everything we had already said to each other a multitude of times, my daughter in her infinite wisdom said, "Mom. We need to go to counseling. We need help." I, in my pride and foolishness said, "No. YOU need counseling." and ended our conversation.

As a child of God, I am so blessed to know that regardless of my past or what has happened, God has enabled me to be different. To break the family mold, to move beyond my past. So many times I have seen person after person fall into the habits and mistakes of their parents and take the well-trod path of least resistance. Change is hard. Changing from family patterns is even harder--but not for my God. As I was standing in the shower, crying my eyes out over my broken relationship with my daughter, God brought to me a memory: My mom walking out that therapist's door and slamming it. I was immediately flooded with grief and shame. Grief over the loss of a relationship with my mother and shame that I had almost done the same to my child. I begged God to forgive me. I begged Him to help me be different. Mostly though, I begged God to help Rhianna forgive me of my stubborn heart.

Later, I texted my girl. I told her to book the appointment. I would do whatever it takes to save our relationship. I felt freed. I felt new.

And that, my friends is how God breaks someone free from a dysfunctional family pattern.

The Mother of All Sacrifices

When I reflect on Mary, the mother of Jesus, I think that I am not unique in that I tend to keep her presence relegated to the Christmas Story. Mary's act of faith, even as a teenage girl confounds me. Her song of praise upon discovering she will become pregnant with the Child of God moves me to tears---oh such a precious and pure faith!

“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for He has been mindful of the humble state of his servant. From now on all generations will call me blessed, for the Mighty One has done great things for me— holy is His name. His mercy extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation.

Luke 1:46-50

So imagine my shock when I discovered this set of verses as I was cruising through the book of Mark the other day:

Then Jesus entered a house, and again a crowd gathered, so that He and his disciples were not even able to eat. When His family heard about this, they went to take charge of Him, for they said, “He is out of His mind.”

Later on, this happens:

Then Jesus’ mother and brothers arrived. Standing outside, they sent someone in to call Him. A crowd was sitting around Him, and they told Him, “Your mother and brothers are outside looking for you.”

“Who are my mother and my brothers?” He asked.

Mark 3:20, 31-32

Would you join me for a moment in a little game I like to call, "WHAT THE WHAT??!!"

WHAT in the world was going on with Jesus' family?

WHAT in Pete's peppers was Mary doing with this band of family doubters and scoffers?

WHAT in the heck happened with Mary between "My soul magnifies the Lord" and "He's out of His mind!"?

Believe me when I say that these verses blew my mind. I was seriously bummed out with Mary! The younger version of the calm, cool and collected virgin who faced the Angel Gabriel without fear had been replaced by a middle-aged woman caught up in a miniseries melodrama starring her eldest son and featuring her other children as the bad guys. I couldn't help but wonder, what had changed in Mary?

When my daughter Rhianna was in Junior High, she desperately wanted to try out for the volleyball team. Her friends were all trying out and she wanted to be on the team too. I encouraged her to go for it and assured her that she had what it took to be a great player. Well, she went to the weeklong try outs and did her best, but ultimately wasn't chosen. It was a very sad day for her. She cried, she felt rejected and was seriously upset that she was the only one not chosen out of her group of friends. It was a tough time to be a kid and the mom of that kid!

Fast forward one year. It is once again time for volleyball tryouts and Rhianna wanted to try out again. This time however, I was struggling with letting her. I did not want my daughter to be disappointed and hurt. I didn't want her to feel that crushing blow of rejection and doubt herself. Of course, I outwardly supported her, but when fear would strike me, I would ask, "Are you SURE that volleyball is your thing?" or "Do you think you will be able to keep up on your schoolwork if you are playing volleyball?" Rhianna assured me that volleyball was truly what she wanted and tried out again. Again, she wasn't chosen. I will never forget the sadness on her face when I arrived to pick her up. I was so angry and frustrated! I couldn't help but wonder why God would allow my precious child to suffer such sadness and pain.

Regardless of Jesus' status as "The Son of God", he was also the Son of Mary. As a parent, I have, and always will, hate to see my child suffer and would do just about anything to keep it from happening. Why do I think that Mary would be any different than I am? With this thought in mind, I looked at Mary's presence at the house that day a little differently. Yes, Mary was there to get her son, but I now have no doubt that her presence was not out of embarrassment or condemnation, but born out of the love of a desperate mother's heart. Mary had heard the prophecies---she had been pondering them in her heart for years (Luke 2:19) and knew what was coming down the dusty roads of Israel for her Son. Perhaps she thought that if she could fetch Jesus and bring Him back home, that all that had been foretold would be null and void. It is so evident that God's plans for Jesus were much bigger and far-reaching than Mary's were and I praise God that Jesus had the presence of mind to not listen to His mother although I have little doubt that this was probably the one and only time He ever disobeyed her.

God's plans for our kids are clearly not our plans. We don't want to see our children hurt and in pain. We want rainbows and balloons for our children, not storm-clouds and umbrellas. But I am learning to recognize that every time I interfere in a lesson God has hand prepared for one of my children, I am robbing them of the opportunity to grow and to see just how big God really is. Instead of trying to block the pain, I need to teach my children to pour out their pain to God, just like Jesus did in the garden of Gethsemane. My children may have to die a million metaphorical deaths before they see their spiritual resurrection, but, as their mom, I am going to be in my prayer closet interceding for them rather than standing outside the house interfering in God's plan.