right or wrong, I'll take Jesus

We need to stop looking at Christianity as dualistic sets of ‘rights’ and ‘wrongs’ - for a Christian, there can only be one ‘right’ and that is the good news of Jesus! For a Christian, there is only one ‘wrong’ and that is to know Jesus but not allow him to transform us. What would happen if we, as individuals and as a people, began to re-examine the things we believe are ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ under the  magnifying glass of Jesus? 

-Zonoma

Then GOD

I’m supposed to be dead (or at least drooling).

In recovery 6/2003

Nearly ten years ago, I was diagnosed with a brain tumor that should have left me a drooling, limping parody of myself, assuming I lived. Instead, God healed me and when they opened me up they found only a desiccated and calcified mass where there had been a viable, entrenched tumor only the day before. That isn’t the story I want to tell today but it is important that you know I experienced a very real physical healing. 

I have been healed. I understand the power of a good and gracious God and of accepting whatever it is that God allows to come your way. I understand how to give thanks in bad circumstances. Then, as so many of us do, I forgot.

Sometimes, that’s what happens after the miracle.

I had a lot to live for.

The fourteen hour surgery in which they used a chisel to pick away at the now-dead tumor had some pretty severe consequences. I left the hospital with a new diagnosis: epilepsy. I had terrible seizures. They left me breathless, panting and paralyzed on the entire right side of my body for hours and hours at a time. I would only start to regain some tiny fraction of movement in my fingers and toes before the next seizure would hit. I was devastated. This new fear was more than I could handle – not knowing when or where the next one would strike was horrible. It was days before they found the right cocktail of drugs to control these attacks and, when they did, the medicines were awful in their own right and caused me to gain weight, lose my hair, and – eventually- fall into a deep depression.

Enough background. More story.

Trauma opens doors to things that Jesus came to free us from and Christians fall prey to things like depression and fear, too. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. While everyone who knew my story up to that point was still singing praises to God for the miracle, my life was absolutely ruled by fear. I never knew when the next seizure would strike and I lived for two years as a shut in- afraid to drive, afraid to boil water unless another adult was home for fear my toddler would try and ‘help’ if I had a seizure and burn himself or his brother. My nightmares were endless. Instead of being thankful for the miracle, I began to resent God for the seizures. I was okay with dying, but that wasn’t good enough for God! And, instead of becoming a drooling, limping parody of myself, I became an embittered and hateful perversion of myself.

Then God.

Then God  (and now you know the story gets good because now it is His) had mercy on me: this bitter, tangled and scribbled-on creation of His. He found me standing over a pile of dirty underwear, with a fist full of dryer lint and whispered, “This is not who I intended you to be.”  He told me to get over my fear and remember what I was called to: the hope, the courage, the joy, the sheer glory that was Him. When I worried my husband would leave me (because isn’t that the curse of women and the great lie of the enemy?) God told me that He would take care of my children and I because we belonged to Him and He didn’t need a husband to do it. Then, I can’t describe it in any other way, except that He breathed courage into me.

I began to obey. I started training my children as if every day were my last, I started praying again, I started studying the Word, remembering.  I started living thankfully again. Do you know what happened after I began to obey and give thanks? God healed me of the epilepsy, too. But that isn’t the biggest miracle. Let me show you something- When I was preparing this entry, I found an old journal and this excerpt from August of 2003, struck me as somewhat prophetic:

“Everybody looks into the mirror but nobody notices the mirror itself. They are naturally drawn to the image reflected in the surface. So through this [difficult season], my 'look-at-me' personality must be sure to say instead 'look-at-God'. All it takes is a little tilt. God is, perhaps, trying to shift my axis."                                                                 

I firmly believe that the biggest miracle I have seen in my life is this heart-change, this shift of my axis, this turn to thankfulness and obedience, this God-life that now thrives where my broken life used to flail its tiny, closed fists against the world. This God-Life is a restored and healthy marriage, it is children who love and are loved, it is a broken dream re-made, it is a renewed call to ministry, it is a second chance to reflect what is important instead of what is broken. It is the ability to find what God is doing in the middle of this messy world and get on board.

So, if we are mirrors- and we are!- what do we reflect? Do we reflect the troubles, strife, and ugly ingratitude of this world? Or do we reflect God and all that comes with Him? Justice and mercy, unbridled joy and soul-rending sorrow, humble obedience and fearless pursuit of the Father’s Will? Is it possible to change our axis? I believe so because I’ve lived it. It took years, but I was finally able digest the enormity of what happened to me and the lessons learned from that season are so far-reaching that they still show up in my own desert places, fresh manna for today. And I am so very thankful for it. 

Why is this so important to me? First and foremost, this idea of giving thanks was important to Jesus.

Eucharisteo – It is found throughout the New Testament 39 times. To offer a little perspective, the word euangelion which is most often translated with phrases like, “Good News” and “gospel” only appears 76 times in the New Testament and that's the theme of the New Testament!.  Jesus gave thanks often and publicly, as well as often and privately, to God. It’s enough to make someone wonder why.

I think it stems from the Garden where ingratitude and distrust became the foundation from which Satan launched his assault on this world. When we remember to thank God – for the small, specific things as well as the bigger, broader strokes – it loosens Satan’s hold on us. For that matter, if we give thanks we are no longer reflecting what is wrong in our lives but what is Good and what is God. We reflect God’s goodness into this dark world! We loosen Satan’s hold on the world and thankfulness becomes a vessel of the Kingdom of God – putting God’s rule and reign front and center in our lives for any who care to see.

When we can find something to be thankful for, it opens our eyes to another and another and another. It is in these seemingly barren landscapes that our souls are nourished. It is when this broken and messed up world tries to starve our spirits that God sends manna from Heaven and we can choose to eat it and be nourished or to close our hands and hearts to what He brings and waste away. It is in these difficult times we learn that God is good, all the time, no matter what is happening around us and even to us. 


You are invited to the table. Come and eat. The meals here in the Kingdom are never the served the same way twice.

depression

Depression is consuming and elusive. My day can be moving along at a fine pace and I remember to thank God for the sunshine and the butterflies and the way the specks of dust catch the sunlight and sparkle like little faeries in a wooded glade.  I can lie down at night, safe in the knowledge that I have a good husband, fine sons, and a good life. Then everything falls into nothing and its all I can do to whisper, “Jesus, save me!” before losing myself to the vortex in my soul. These moments come on me with all the violence of a storm and I can't breathe. They pummel me from the inside- roaring to get out, to find some expression, to be free. I cannot describe it better than a struggle for my very existence, clawing and screaming my way back- denying this monster, this enemy, the satisfaction of another moment’s conquest. Yes, living with depression is a struggle that happens from moment to moment. Sometimes I am tempted to believe this lie that I am alone but then Jesus comes. Jesus comes and saves me in the dark. He sets me back on the solid ground of his love and, for another moment, I am safe in his presence once more. 

Somewhere in the world tonight there is a sister who needs to know. You are not alone. You are not broken because you struggle with this melancholy. God loves you and rescues you. The LORD has overcome and the LORD is overcoming. 

-Zonoma

Whatcha-Got Stew

My children and I have a summer tradition. At the end of the month, when money gets tight, we fix a giant pot of “Whatcha-Got Stew”. The kids go out to the garden and find the last of the carrots or onions or cabbages- whatever they can find in the overgrown, weedy mess of a late season garden and then come running inside to share what they found. It usually isn’t much- a carrot here, half a small red onion that escaped the early harvest there. If we’re lucky, they even find a potato or some self-sown spinach. While they’re outside, I’m digging through the bottom of the freezer looking for a little bit of meat- and I do mean a little! Whatever we find, we throw in the stew pot and then the boys take turns tasting and seasoning while I make noodle bits.  We never fail to have enough for the family on the nights we do this and, even better, it’s never the same. 

If I can take the small offerings of my children and turn them into a tasty, filling meal- how much more can God take our small offerings and turn them into something amazing? This is what it is to be part of his grand story of redemption- to bring God what we have, to say, “Here I am with my little bit. Now, what’s the plan? I’m in.” So next time he asks you do something scary with the little you have, remember Whatcha-Got Stew and take a chance. God takes what we have and fills us –and those around us- up. I don’t know how, He just does.

acorns

Inside a tiny acorn lies a great oak, slumbering until surrounded by the soaking presence of the rains. How my soul is like the tiny acorn! Slumbering and silent, helpless against this world until the Spirit of God surrounds me with His presence and awakens me to the possibilities of life, of growth, of strength! May we always long for the Presence of God, may we always – like the acorns and the oaks- drink in the rain with abandon and learn to plant our roots deep in the soil of the Word of God for without both the deepening and the drinking, there is no growing toward the light of the Son.

-Zonoma

idol times

Regret is the idol of the past and worry is the idol of the future but the only way to worship a present God is to remain in the now. After all, He is big enough to redeem both the past and the future when we seek Him today.

-Zonoma

occam's razor

To say, "God healed me" in our post-modern society is a difficult thing and often requires courage. Most of our friends, after hearing that, look on us as if we are slow-witted and to be pitied or, worse, under-educated and un-discerning of the 'logical' processes by which we are now well. This is because, though we are taught that the simplest answer is often the truest, we are also taught that God does not qualify as a simple answer.

-Zonoma

cancer sucks

A good friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer this week and as I was praying for her I asked God if He wanted me to tell her anything. Immediately, Isaiah 43:2 came to mind:

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers,

they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire,

you will not be burned;

the flames will not set you ablaze.

She was encouraged and, while that was the point and I am glad, there is more to this verse than comfort - there is a warning implicit. Nestled between the promise that God is with us is a promise that there will be fire, there will be frightful, painful things ahead. Just because we are not burned doesn’t mean that we aren’t melted down to the very essence of who we are. That can be a scary thing and I fear for my friend, though I know she will be the better person for this eventually because she truly loves our God. I guess you could say that, more than fear for my friend, I fear for other Christians in her place.

So often we hear it preached from the pulpit that God is the smart choice, the easy choice, the happy choice, and for just the price of a prayer we can have peace, joy, and contentment in our lives. It is shameful how the church has turned those valuable gifts into market buzz words and completely lost their intended meaning. We pitch Christ like one would pitch their wares at the market, or a late night infomercial.

Christ didn’t live an easy life. He certainly didn’t live a peaceful life, not in the modern vernacular. He didn’t sell himself, either. He knew that his life was hard and he warned others as they considered entering into it. Ever tried to warn someone against becoming a follower of Christ? Jesus did. "Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” (Mt 8:20)

What would happen if we started getting honest with our friends? Christianity doesn’t make everything better, it isn’t a magic potion that cures all ills and loneliness. Christians get tired, they get sick, they die. While we are tired, sick, and dying we are called to live like He did giving our lives away to those around us. We are called to love God enough to live by His standards and to do it cheerfully, even when we are waiting to learn if we have cancer. We are called to live in this world and love those around us, even after we get a flat tire and the bank deposits our check into the wrong account. We are called to hold our tongues when we are wronged and not gossip in the workplace, or anywhere else. In many ways, becoming a Christian makes one’s life more difficult! The main difference is this: Those who put their trust in God develop the capacity to carry those burdens as if they were 'easy' and 'light' not because they are but because He is our sustainer. He sends something that we call peace: the ability to live through the brokenness without being broken. He sends something we call joy: the ability to recognize the reality of a painful situation and still find happiness in the sunshine and butterflies in spite of the clouds and the wasps. My other friend Kami says it is precisely that challenge that makes living like Christ so attractive. I think I agree.

I really don’t know where this is going, except to say that I’m glad my friend is a woman who understands that she has hard times ahead but, in spite of that, God will sustain her. The waters she is about to enter will try to pass over her head but God will keep her afloat. And when she looks into the fire, she will find who she truly is- stripped down to her elemental behaviors and her default thought patterns and then she will melt into the shape that God has called her because the fire will melt down any last vestiges of HER strength and force her to rely on God’s. Knowing her, she will lean into the process and welcome God changing her with open arms because she trusts Him. Just wait and watch, though - through this and on the other side, she will touch others lives by the way she lives through the storm and praises God for the tiny pieces of beauty she sees when the lightning flashes.

That is the secret strength of a disciple of Jesus Christ.

tap, tap, tap

The little cardinal is back this morning. She comes tapping on the dining room window several times each day. Her persistence is both heart-warming and frustrating. I hate watching her beat her delicate beak against the glass over and over again. At times, my foolish nature overtakes me and I set out a plate of seeds on the table and open the window. The invitation frightens her, though, and she flies away and refuses to return until I shut the window again. I've left the window open for hours at a time but, to my knowledge, she's never ventured inside my home.

This morning as I was watching her, it occurred to me that I am not so different from her. Like the cardinal, I bang my head against a barrier that I can neither see nor comprehend in a desperate effort to enter into the Kingdom of God. I have to wonder: Have there been moments when God's compassion for me overwhelmed Him? Has He opened a window? And have I, like my feathered friend, become suddenly frightened and flown away until the window was closed, the opportunity passed, and I felt safe again?

Dear One, let not fear of the unknown keep me from entering into those places which You invite me!


Matthew 7:7

Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.