change, healing, lessons learned

Bridging the Racial Divide

Friends, we are doing our black brothers and sister a great injustice by being silent and ignorant about what’s happening to black people all around us. The Bible warns us:

Do not be interested only in your own life, but be interested in the lives of others.

Philippians 2:4 NCV

I’ve always thought I was “color blind,” but it has been brought to my attention lately that that phrase is offensive. I am so sorry. 

I’ve always thought that “white privilege” was ignorant people making rude comments to and about people of color. It’s more than that. It’s me. Because I was born white, I don’t have to worry about being racially profiled, and that right there is my white privilege. 

By saying “all lives matter,” we’re ignoring the fact that right now, in 2020, black lives are in danger. All lives won’t matter until and unless black lives also matter. When your brother is stopped by the police and falsely accused, you don’t care that the “statistics” say it rarely happens. People’s real-life experiences matter. We don’t know the whole story unless we ask.

Our black neighbors just want to be heard and recognized for the struggles they’re experiencing. James exhorts us, “My dear brothers and sisters, always be willing to listen and slow to speak. Do not become angry easily” (1:19 NCV). If we have not gone through the same struggles, we cannot understand what they’re facing. And we should not even try. 

Neutral means you’re choosing not to see what I’m going through.

K.W.

I can never be color blind again. I am choosing to set aside my white privilege to stand with my black brothers and sisters. 

I am choosing not to be neutral. I am choosing to listen, to stand up for the rights of black people, and to use my voice as a writer to help bridge the racial divide in my sphere of influence. 

Now is the time to mourn with those who are mourning over injustice in our land toward black people. “Be happy with those who are happy, and be sad with those who are sad” (Romans 12:15 NCV).

What can you do? “Use the gifts God has given you to make a difference!” (K.W.). Not everyone is called to march in a protest. Not everyone can write. But everyone can listen. Everyone can pray for healing in our land. Everyone can say something when we hear racial slurs. 

anxiety, change, devotional, grief, lessons learned

Plan B

My life lately looks like a season of Well, That Didn’t Go as Planned. But here’s the thing. I. Love. To. Plan. Everything.

Perhaps you have this problem, too?

The heart of man plans his way,
    but the Lord establishes his steps.

Proverbs 16:9 ESV

I’ve learned to write in my pretty planner with erasable pens (they’re the bomb), but my stickers don’t always cooperate with being moved. Kind of like their owner.

Right now, my Plan A is for the purchase of my townhome to happen on a particular date. I’ve got a sticker for the movers on that date in my planner and friends with strong backs and muscles lined up, too. But yesterday, I received an email from my lender saying that the date would most likely be pushed back eight days. 

For four years, my baby girl has dreamed about and planned on going to Italy to study abroad this semester. (You already see where this is going, don’t you?) She had been happily ensconced in Rome for two months, racking up the steps on her FitBit when a teeny, tiny little virus spread like wildfire around the globe, aided by the media. 

Her dreams of spending five months traveling and learning around Europe fell like rose petals from a rejected lover as she was rushed back with the rest of her classmates to the “safe” zone of New York City. Platitudes of health and safety aren’t comforting. Now she’s quarantined (yet healthy) in her dorm and wondering how and when her classes will continue in a different country with different professors.

I can relate. I wish I had more comforting words. But I don’t. I wish I could hug her in person. But I can’t. All I can say is, “I’m so sorry, baby, but it will be ok. Eventually.” 

God comforts us when we’re on Plan B (or C or G or M or …) with this:

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

Romans 8:28 ESV

Everything—even the bumped moving date and the disrupted study abroad plans—is for our good, even if we can’t immediately see it. We just have to trust that God knows what He’s doing.  

I love the insight and inspiration of this article by Sandra Peoples: “Your Plan B Is Still God’s Plan A.” Peoples’ life didn’t go as planned, and she looks to a number of biblical examples of others whose lives didn’t go as they planned either. 

Above all, God is sovereign. Sometimes I just have to repeat that over and over to myself. Sometimes I need to remind myself of other times when my unwanted Plan B really did turn out to be so much better than my Plan A because it was God’s Plan A all along. When we surrender to God’s Plan A (even if it’s our Plan C or D), that’s when God gets the glory. And that’s what life is really all about: glorifying God. 

What’s your Plan B? Suspended travel plans? A child’s rejection? An unwanted diagnosis? A divorce? An unexpected death? A job loss? Remember that it’s still God’s Plan A for your life, and it will be better than your Plan A (eventually).

change, lessons learned

Authenticity

Many years ago, I had a close friend. Our kids played together. We worshiped together. We complained about our husbands together. We homeschooled together. We had coffee together. I thought we were best friends.

Then she started pulling back. She didn’t always answer her phone when I called. She started being busy when I tried to plan coffee dates. The real blow came when she and another friend went on a trip and didn’t invite me. We had been talking for several months about it, but hadn’t settled on a date. At least not that I knew about. I was crushed.

She refused to tell me what was going on. Our friendship quietly dissolved.

Years later, she told me why. One of her children was developmentally disabled and didn’t keep up with the same milestones that my same-age child did. Her husband was not saved and refused to attend church; mine was the youth pastor. She felt that her life was inferior to mine.

I was flabbergasted, but I learned a valuable lesson. True, deep friendship cannot flourish without true authenticity. 

If only I had told her that my marriage was also far from perfect: the youth pastor had a serious addiction to pornography that deeply affected our marriage and my own feelings of worth. The child who appeared to be academically advanced for her age had ADD, and I eventually found myself unable to homeschool her for several years because of it.

My pride and natural reserve kept me from enjoying and benefitting from sharing life with a valued friend.

Iron sharpens iron,
    and one [wo]man sharpens another.

Proverbs 27:17 (ESV)

We always kind of wonder how people could really love someone (like ourselves) who is such a hot mess. But here’s the thing, when we open up about our hot messes, when we invite others into our less-than-perfect spaces, we invite others into a shared authentic space.

It’s in that shared authentic space that true love (romantic or filial) and connection blossom. We feel true communion when someone says, “Me too.” Friendship can’t grow in the sterile environment of perfectionism. 

A [wo]man who has friends must [her]self be friendly,
but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.

Proverbs 18:24 (NKJV)

Do you need to make an adjustment in any of your relationships?  I might need to make a few more changes myself.

change, devotional, lessons learned, reinventing

Praise Before Victory

It’s a dreary, chilly day here in North Carolina, but that’s no excuse to let my inside grumpiness be on display for everyone else. Although it may seem like no big deal, it’s not. Victory in small things leads to victory in bigger things. Learning how to have victory over a grumpy mood one day leads to learning how to have victory over the negative effects of a life-altering event next month or next year. 

Turns out, King Jehoshaphat of OT Judah, knew the right formula: “He appointed those who were to sing to the Lord and praise him in holy attire, as they went before the army, and say, ‘Give thanks to the Lord, for his steadfast love endures forever.’ And when they began to sing and praise, the Lord set an ambush against the men of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir, who had come against Judah, so that they were routed”  — 2 Chronicles 20:21–22.

They’re giving praises to God BEFORE the victory! The praise band is walking in front of the soldiers. What? Isn’t that backward? Sure seems that way! We teach our kids to say thank you after we’ve given them something. Do you remember giving your toddlers something—anything—and then prompting them, “What do you say?” Sometimes I would even hold onto the item (with them holding the other side of it) until they remembered to say thank you. I was giving them the cookie, yet I wouldn’t release the cookie from my hand until they expressed gratitude. 

Lightbulb moment: Is that what’s going on here? God is giving us the victory, just like I’m giving my toddler the cookie, but just like a toddler, I often need to be prompted to say thank you. God is holding onto the victory until I get my brain in gear and acknowledge that he’s the source of the victory! But how do we gain a victory when we want to remain in victim mode?  

“But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ”

1 Corinthians 15:57

Fill your mind with gratitude. Read the Psalms and notice that even when David was crying for help in a difficult situation, he always gave thanks as well.

Fill your ears with praises. Start singing praises to God—sing along with worship songs on the radio. Or just start by clicking on a praise and worship channel on Pandora or Spotify. 

Fill your hand with thankfulness. Express gratitude. Keep a jar on your counter and make a point every day to write one thing for which you are grateful on a slip of paper to put into the jar. For a dose of encouragement, at the end of the year (or month, or even week), take a look back at God’s personal faithfulness to you.   

Sometimes victory looks like showing up at work or church even when it took a monumental effort to pick yourself up off the floor from a crying jag. Sometimes victory looks like hugging the person who just screamed invectives at you and slammed doors on his way out because he’s your son. Sometimes victory looks like keeping your mouth closed during a work meeting or not firing off that angry (though perhaps justified) email. And sometimes victory looks like keeping the grumpiness inside and projecting cheerfulness. What does your victory look like today?

change, devotional, healing, lessons learned, moving on, reinventing

Out With the Old; In With the New

So, maybe I’m a few days late to the game, but I’m still working on my vision for 2020. How ‘bout you? Or maybe your goals have already fizzled, and you need a reminder to reboot them. Here’s your invitation to keep working toward your 2020 vision!

Some of my goals feel so big and so audacious that I’m taking my time to break them down into smaller, more manageable chunks. I’m believing God for “a new thing” in this new decade. (Yes, I’m aware that some of you think the new decade doesn’t start until 2021, but let’s set that debate aside for now.) At the end of this year, I’ll be reaching a milestone birthday with a new decade of life. So, it’s time. It’s time to shed the past decade of hurts and hard stuff. It’s time to do something with the lessons that God’s taught me through all of the yuckiness of recent life events. 

Thus says the Lord, who makes a way in the sea, … “Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” — Isaiah 43:16–19

— Isaiah 43:16–19 (ESV)

If my God can make a dry path for the Isralites through the Red Sea, make water spring forth from a dry rock, raise a dead man to life, and create something out of nothing, then he can give me a new lease on life this year! I’m on the lookout for his path for me through the desert this coming year. 

But here’s the thing: we can’t go forward if we’re looking back. We can’t make a new relationship work if we’re always bringing up the old one. We can’t hold new things if our hands are still clenched around the old things—physically or metaphorically. Dump out the cold coffee and brew a fresh cup, sister!

Together, let’s let go of fear, unrealistic expectations, old hurts, and feelings of inadequacy and insecurity. Let’s reach out and hold onto  faith, confidence, joy, and the expectation that God will do something new in our lives in 2020. Who’s with me?

change, devotional, lessons learned

What If We’re Just Supposed to Show Love?

What if we’re just supposed to show love this Christmas season? Not judge. Not worry about how our show of love will be perceived. Not worry about what it might cost us. Not worry about whether we’re doing it the right way (whatever that might be). Just love.

“My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you”

John 15:12 ESV

Like the lawyer in Luke 10, I want to question Jesus and say, “Surely you didn’t mean I have to show love to that person; he’s not my neighbor!” Like that legalistic questioner, we, too, are often guilty of loving just those who are like us, who have the same values and backgrounds. But instead, we are to have the attitude of the Samaritan—a pariah in the Jewish community—and go the extra mile for everyone, even our enemies.   The Samaritan not only bandaged up his enemy’s wounds on the spot, but he carried him to the next town and arranged for his extended care—at his own expense! 

For us, sometimes showing love looks like inviting your son’s awkward girlfriend over for Christmas dinner even though you wish they’d break up. Sometimes showing love looks like buying a gift for that rude coworker. Sometimes showing love means cooperating with your children’s father. A lot of times showing love looks like being a gracious hostess and a generous gift giver to those who don’t deserve anything by worldly standards. Showing love sometimes looks like letting go. Showing love sometimes looks like overriding your emotions. Most of all, at least for me, showing love is going to look like giving smiles and hugs, but keeping my opinions, thoughts, and fears to myself. 

“Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you”

Luke 6:27-28 ESV

That’s the true spirit of Christmas!

What does showing love look like for you this Christmas season? Let’s share and uphold each other in prayer. May God give us the grace to show his compassion to all!

anxiety, change, lessons learned, reinventing

The New Midlife Crisis: Not Just for Men Anymore

In the good old days, we’d hear about men in their 40s and 50s leaving their wives, buying fancy sports cars, and running off to Mexico with 20-year-old blonde bimbos. We’d shake our heads sadly, judge him loudly, and say, “Oh, he’s having a midlife crisis. His poor wife!” And that would be the end of it.

I’m pretty sure there’s a new midlife crisis in town. And it’s not a 55-year-old bald guy speeding down the road in a red Mazda Miata with a young blonde in the passenger seat. It’s the moms with empty nests; it’s the victims of the 20-year-ditch club (women divorced after being married to the same man for 20-ish years and raising a family with him); it’s the resumes with the 18-year gaps. They’re still driving beige minivans; they’ve crammed what’s left of their belongings into a two-bedroom apartment; they’re still cooking meals for a family of six, but setting the table for one. They’re hopping from job to job, from church to church, from activity to activity yet feeling unfulfilled and lonely.

But the new midlife crisis is also hitting successful career women, moms with kids finishing up high school, happy wives, and lifelong church members. What’s up with that? We’re the richest country in the world with more disposable income and time than ever before, yet we’re unsatisfied with our lives.

At this age (40s-50s), we should have figured out what we want and acquired it. We should have learned our lessons and moved on. We should have the experience to know what we’re good at and to work at it. 

As Ada Calhoun wrote in “The New Midlife Crisis,” Gen X women all over America are experiencing a depressing shift into this period in our lives. It’s not just women going through upheavals and transitions. It’s women who look like they have it all together. 

I could cite multiple reasons for these feelings of panic and crisis, but that’s not my main point. If you’re feeling useless, rootless, and helpless to do anything about it, you’re probably not interested in the why. You’re just interested in the fix. Like yesterday. 

So, what’s the real answer? I don’t know! But I did some poking around to find out what the answer is because I, too, want the fix. Like yesterday.

First of all, don’t do anything rash or stupid that you might possibly regret later. Just. Don’t. Do. It. Second, cling to the truths you already know from God’s Word. Like these:

  • Our main purpose in life is to glorify God.
  • Cling to Christ and continue on–Philippians 3:13-20.
  • Wait on the Lord, and He will give you new strength–Isaiah 40:31.
  • Read the book of Ecclesiastes; Solomon’s musings will make you feel less alone.
  • Read Psalms 105-106 and other biblcal passages that review all of the good things that God did for Israel and reflect on what good things the Lord has done in your life.

Third, try a few practical things as well:

  • Journal–get all those angsty feelings out of your head.
  • Strive to eat healthier–most of the time. Hey, a girl’s gotta have her chocolate from time to time.
  • Start ramping up the number of steps you set as your goal on your FitBit.
  • Talk to your girlfriends. I guarantee that you’re not the only one trying to figure out hot flashes, teens/20s drama, parent care, and career crises.

So, am I fixed yet? Nope. But I know where my focus should be: on Christ, not on myself. And I know I just have to keep going because one day I’ll look back on this period in my life and be grateful for the lessons God taught me through it.

What about you? Where are you in this journey called life? (Sorry, more Prince!) Are you feeling the crunch of a midlife crisis? And what are you doing about it? Tell me about it!

anxiety, change, grief, healing, lessons learned, moving on

Take It to the Cross

How many times do we hear—or say—that phrase and not know how to take our burdens to the cross and leave them there?

“Rising Cairn” by Celeste Roberge

I connected immediately with this sculpture, “Rising Cairn” by Celeste Roberge, the first time I saw its image. Others have called it “The Weight of Grief,” and that’s what I see. Grief, bitterness, struggles, loneliness, loss, all these things weigh us down. It’s not just all in the mind or in the heart; hard things take their toll physically too. 

All this weight that we carry can make daily living difficult. Imagine carrying a 30-pound backpack on your back all day, every day. Sounds exhausting, right? Well, that’s what we do when we don’t let Christ carry our spiritual and emotional burdens for us. 

I’ve tried to envision how free I would feel to be rid of all the weights I carry. I can picture Christian from Pilgrim’s Progress stumbling toward the cross. As he nears it and lifts his eyes to see the symbol of his Savior’s love, the weights fall right off his back. Can you imagine the freedom and lightness he felt? Can you imagine the freedom and lightness you and I would feel if we could only lay down our rock loads at the foot of the cross.

We can!! In order to help those of us (me) without an imagination, I’ve thought of doing this physically, but I haven’t yet. Gather up a bunch of rocks, use a sharpie to write a burden on each one—whatever’s weighing down me heart and mind and causing me to be bent over with grief. Take those rocks, those burdens to the cross and set them down on the ground beside it. I imagine Jesus bending over and picking up those rocks and in exchange giving me His yoke of peace, love, and grace. How much lighter I would feel! Those aren’t burdens at all; they’re blessings!

Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Matthew 11:28-30 ESV

Once we’ve laid our burdens down at the foot of the cross, we can’t pick them up again. Not that I would want to, but we are creatures of habit. 

Recently when I was struggling with a particular issue with one of my children, I was keeping it all inside and not telling anyone about it—even my closest friends. I was so crushed by this burden—just like the person depicted in the “Rising Cairn” sculpture—that I couldn’t focus on anything else. I was filled with anxiety and grief. My dad finally encouraged me to let it go, to let others help me carry that burden to the Lord. It was hard to share what I felt like was my failing as a mother, but I did. It took several months of prayers, tears, and sharing with friends who carried me to Jesus, but I have let it go (mostly). When I dwell on this issue, I still cry. I pray constantly for this problem. But I don’t carry the burden of it around with me, and in that, I am free. 

You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free

John 8:32 ESV

I have other burdens that I’m working on releasing, but sometimes I feel like the rocks are superglued to my hand! Why do I hold onto my burdens instead of loosing the backpack straps and letting the whole bag fall to the ground at the cross as Christian did? I don’t know! But I’m working on it, and I’m inviting Jesus to help me release these burdens. 

What rocks are superglued to your hands? What burdens are in your backpack weighing you down? Take them to the cross and leave them there, friend! If you need someone to pray with you about your cares, let me know.

change, divorce, moving on, reinventing

Identity Crisis

Us-passportWith my recent divorce, I decided to revert my last name to my maiden name. My married name has all kinds of negative connotations, and I don’t want to be associated with that name or that person anymore. As my girls are in their late teens, they’re old enough to realize that I need my own identity and that they’ll soon be changing their own last names.

Names identify people with other people. Names identify people with certain groups, ethnicity, regions, religions, and jobs.

What I didn’t realize when I decided to change my name is what a humongous hassle the whole process would be! So many, many places needed to have it changed. And, of course, half of them couldn’t just get it right the first time–like the DMV and my bank. Oy! Then there’s the whole email address change. I’m pretty sure everyone on the planet has my old email address. And persists in using it. Furthermore, it’s associated with all of my online bills and every single site I ever signed into in the entire World Wide Web. If one more person asks whether I just got married, I will scream! This whole process was so much simpler (and happier) 22 years ago when I did it the first time.

Throughout this whole process, I feel like I’m having an identity crisis, and I don’t just mean having trouble remembering how to sign my name. I’m not married, so I don’t want my former last name. Even though my father is an honorable man, and I am proud to carry his last name, I am not under his protection anymore as I was when I was growing up. With whose name do I want to be associated? To whom do really I belong?

I belong to God, first and foremost.

The Lord says, “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are MINE” (Isaiah 43:1).

As long as my heavenly father knows my name, it doesn’t really matter what my earthly name is. That’s comforting.

 

change, moving on

The Next Half

halfI spent the first 22 years of my life waiting to get married. I spent the next 22 years of my life wishing I wasn’t. (Go ahead and figure out my age; it’s easy.) Half of my life was spent preparing to be a good, Christian wife. Half of my life was spent reeling from the shock of the emotional abuse, being cheated on, and manipulation of being that wife.

As of this coming Tuesday, I’ll be beginning the next half of my life. Don’t confuse me by saying that’s too many halves. Looked at from a different angle, one could say I’m at the midpoint of my life now if I were to have an average lifespan of 88 years. So, I’ve spent my entire life so far wishing for and being something that wasn’t what I expected and is now over. That doesn’t bode well for the next, unknown half of my life.

The past two and a half years have been focused on survival, not on preparing myself for this next phase in my life. While I’m thrilled to be out from under oppression, I almost don’t know how to handle it! For the first half of my life, my parents made decisions for me, and then guided me in making my own decisions. For the next half of my life, I was informed of decisions – when he remembered to tell me. How do I make my own decisions now without panicking?

Here’s my answer:

“And we have such trust through Christ toward God. Not that we are sufficient of ourselves to think of anything as being from ourselves, but our sufficiency is from God, who also made us sufficient as ministers of the new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.” – 2 Corinthians 3:4-6

Sure enough, I am not adequate or sufficient. But God is. Pray for me, though, as I continue to make this transition into the next half of my life.