ONE Thing with RefineUs.Org
Today, Brian and I got the privilege to guest post over at RefineUs.org. Justin and Trisha are GREAT friends of ours and have built an amazing ministry out of their story. Talk about beauty from ashes.
If you didn’t know, Justin and Trish were an instrumental part to the restoration of Brian and my marriage. They are good people… OUR people.
Here’s an excerpt from our post:
When we got married (Brian was 26 & Jenni was 22), our thoughts and concerns at the time were about one thing: Our STATUS.
We’re not saying we didn’t love each other or that we shouldn’t have gotten married… we’re simply stating that our new “status” was more attractive than thinking about the reality of what marriage meant.
It wasn’t till after we divorced our old marriage that we FINALLY began to talk about these things. We talked about our dreams, our desires, our goals… and soon realized we both wanted …
To read more… CLICK HERE!
Check in there all week. They have a great line-up of guest-bloggers who are worth reading.
Sara Frankl: Just “BE”
Today’s guest post is by my friend, Sara Frankl, AKA “Gitzengirl” to the twitter/blog world.
Sara is one of the most loving and caring people I know, despite her circumstance. You see… Sara is sick. She’s been diagnosed with Ankylosing Spondylitis and Cushing’s Disease which pretty much means she hurts ALL THE TIME and her immune system is shot. Just stepping outside her front door could mean weeks of being sick for her.
She says she’s “just a girl who used to write for a magazine to make a living…” But I would argue that she’s far from “just a girl”.
“Gitz”, as we lovingly call her, clearly chooses joy every day and helps us realize being homebound doesn’t limit your life… just your location. She teaches me life isn’t about adapting… it’s about living in the present so adaptation isn’t necessary. She reminds me to see the beauty in all my situations.
I have a lot to learn from Sara… and I’m fortunately blessed to call her “friend”.
Without further adieu, I give you… SARA!
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God, being who He is, must always be sought for Himself, never as a means toward something else. -AW Tozer
My friend Susie and I are slightly obsessed with the show Brothers and Sisters. The crazier the family gets, the more we seem to be enthralled… so it was no surprise when she called me one night after the first commercial starting sentences with, “Can you believe…” and “They are insane…” and “How funny was…”
Never at a loss for words, Susie and I rambled on through the commercials and immediately shushed each other when the show came back on. The funny thing was, we didn’t hang up.
And we didn’t even notice that we were sitting in silence on the phone, watching a television show together while not saying a word. Sometimes it’s nice to just “be” with someone… even when distance separates you.
I had an experience the last couple of weeks that took up most of my conscious thoughts. Because I am homebound with a serious illness, healthcare can be tricky and I ran into a medical roadblock that seemed pretty insurmountable. Coming up with a solution proved to be a rollercoaster, and to say that my life was consumed with prayer would be an understatement.
My eyes would open in the morning and I’d be talking to God, asking him to give me the strength to face whatever the day brought for me. Throughout the day I’d thank Him for being faithful and loving me. When my thoughts would return to the situation at hand, I would ask Him to touch the hearts of the medical professionals I needed to help me, and in the next breath would ask Him to touch my heart so I could accept whatever outcome He thought was best for me.
I wanted. I thanked. I wanted. I thanked. I talked. I listened. And then I talked some more. I was so drawn to stay in conversation with Him, but at the same time I was so sick saying what I already knew He heard, and what I already knew He had taken care of. I just didn’t know the outcome yet.
Then I had a moment… sitting in front of the fireplace with my pup… when it felt like that night on the phone with Susie. I had stopped talking, stopped listening, stopped thinking. But I hadn’t hung up. I realized I was being drawn, not to keep talking to Him, but to “be” with Him. To just rest in His presence and know I was ok.
I don’t normally do that. I seem to have a need to fill up the space with God. To actively talk, actively listen, actively praise. But that night I realized I needed Him in the same way I need my best friend. Sometimes I just need to be understood without saying a word, sometimes I need to just not be alone.
If this medical crisis taught me nothing else, it taught me that sometimes prayer has nothing to do with speaking or listening. It’s trusting Him enough to simply rest in His presence.
Desperate Pursuit
Today, my guest blogger is Nicole Wick.
Nicole is the equivalent of the “triple threat” on Broadway… but in real life. She’s THAT woman that Satan needs to look out for. She WILL unravel his evil plans just by her willingness to be honest, authentic and real in all her experiences… especially the ones that most people hide.
She first got my attention by her adoption story. As I got to know her better, I realized she’s more multi-faceted than anyone I’d ever met in my 31 years. She’s also is a supporting author to XXXChurch.com.
Visit her at her place or follow her on Twitter… but for now, take in the wisdom she brings here.
Nicole – thank you for sharing your heart here. You are an amazing blessing to me!
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The darkest days of our marriage were the first few months after I learned that my husband had committed adultery. I had been well aware of his struggle with pornography but had been made to believe that it was “under control”. Over a year had passed since I had last discovered porn on his computer and I had come to believe that this scary, hurtful part of our marriage was behind us. I had shut out everything that had happened and naively hoped that if I ignored them, the painful memories would go away. We didn’t discuss it and our lives moved on.
When he confessed, or more accurately admitted, that his addiction had not only resurfaced but crossed a new line from virtual to flesh and blood I was devastated. At the time I was six months pregnant with our daughter and between the hormones and the horrible truth of a one night stand sent me into a deep depression. Everything in my life was suddenly muddy and unclear. Everything that I had ever thought about myself, my husband, my marriage, and my relationship with God was turned upside down by five little words:” I went home with someone”.
I never dreamt that I would recover from this. And at the time I seriously doubted that our marriage would survive. But somehow it did.
I could go on forever about all of the miracles that we witnessed in the years following his confession. I could fill this entire page talking about all of the ways that God has reshaped us as we submitted ourselves to His process of recovery, healing, reconciliation, and restoration. I wish I had hours to tell you about all the ways that God revealed his strength, power, character, and truth to us in our weakness. What I will tell you is that the most important thing I learned on this journey is that the magnitude of my faith is inline with the magnitude of my calling when I am in desperate pursuit of Jesus.
I clung to Mark 5 :27-28 each day during this time. It reads;
“When she heard about Jesus, she came up behind him in the crowd and touched his cloak, because she thought “If I just touch his clothes I will be healed”.
I needed to be reminded to desperately pursue the source of my healing and restoration. Even now when I am feeling lost, alone, hopeless or helpless I remind myself that if I press through whatever is crowding me out and can get close enough just to touch the very tip of the hem of his garment He will call me out of the crowd and restore me.
Are you willing to reach out & touch His cloak?
Alece Ronzino: I’m Exhaustulated
Meet Alece.
She’s real. She’s raw. She’s AH-MAZ-ING!
Alece’s story humbles me. Her mission inspires me. The example her life exudes pushes me to be more gracious, loving and prayerful towards others… even the ones who are not kind to me.
Thank you, Alece, for revealing your heart here today. I’m so humbled to call you “friend”.
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I was reading along in Isaiah when I tripped over this phrase: “You have not wearied yourselves for Me, O Israel.” I brushed off my knees and copped a squat right there. I knew exactly what God was talking about. And I knew I was just as guilty as Israel was.
After over eleven years in full-time ministry, I know full-well what it’s like to weary myself. I’ve put in the ridiculously long hours. I’ve juggled an impossible schedule. I’ve reached the point of burnout and lived to tell about it.
And as I fall in bed exhausted at the end of a long day week month year decade, my heart sighs, “I’m weary…”
If I listen closely enough, I hear God’s voice, ever loving and gentle. “But you haven’t wearied yourself for Me.”
Without even realizing it, I’ve been wearing my exhaustion like a badge of honor. My demanding schedule and ever-growing to do lists became my identity. As if fatigue is the mark of an accomplished missionary.
If I’m most honest, I wearied myself because I thought my value lay in my productivity. I mistook accomplishments for significance. I bought into the lie that busyness is the telltale sign of successful leadership.
But while I was getting stuff done, and even—by God’s grace—impacting lives, I was ultimately toiling for the wrong reasons.
The work of discipling young leaders in Africa is worth every ounce of my effort and energy. I want to tire myself out doing what I love. But I need to keep the motives of my heart in check. Wearying myself for some self-serving purpose is just plain tiring.
I want to weary myself for Him.
Then and only then am I strengthened.
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What do you weary yourself over?
Grace Is For Sinners
Serena Woods is the author of Grace Is For Sinners.
Here is a woman who has experienced far more than her allotted portion of life and still stands tall to tell her story. Instead of blaming her circumstances and sitting dormantly bitter, she’s openly chosen AND choosing life.
Serena is a woman of passion, love, grace and forgiveness. She has boldly shared her story and experiences at graceisforsinners.com with all of us so that maybe… JUST maybe OUR stories can turn out less marred.
Thanks Serena, for posting your wisdom here today!
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Remembering who we are is one of the hardest things to do.
The experiences we have in flesh and blood distract us from the experiences that take place in the spirit, the ‘wind hovering over the water’ life.
It’s hard to rip the flesh out of the equation. Needs make us aware of the ability in our hands. Passion makes us aware of the energy in our shapes. Dreams make us aware of the potential in our time. Pain makes us aware of the energy in our tears. Anger makes us sense the power of our fists. We use God like a shovel. We wear God like cheap perfume. We use oils and chants as though God were a genie. Our sense of entitlement thinks God wouldn’t want us to cry. Our so called righteous indignation uses God like brass knuckles.
When will we see that the flesh is separate from the spirit? We have the freedom to move about the world and all of its experiences without being bound to them. Things in this life do not sustain us because their loss cannot break us. We navigate our lives choosing liberation or capture.
It’s not about choosing right for the sake of choosing right. You’re choosing freedom. Not freedom from pain, failure, consequences or punishment. These are all things that have to do with the flesh. Flesh is relative and based on perspective.
Freedom has to do with the spirit. Nothing in the here and now should be used to navigate you. Only distract you. You have a force working against your freedom. An enemy who wants you to feel not only pain, guilt and uncertainty, but also relief, success and security. We are distracted by all of those things. We are tied to all of those things. We are held captive by our flesh in more ways than we know.
The power of the wind. An invisible force gentle enough to make chimes sing. Sturdy enough for birds to rest their wings. Strong enough to put a farmer’s tractor in the trees. The power of the wind hints at a terrifying and awesome invisible made visible by the effects it has on what we can actually see.
Flesh is only a whisper, not an infallible entity. Don’t submit to things that die with passing time. It’ll never be fascinating enough to hold you and it will never be simple enough to make you understand.
“You’re not listening. Let me say it again. Unless a person submits to this original creation—the ‘wind-hovering-over- the-water’ creation, the invisible moving the visible, a baptism into a new life—it’s not possible to enter God’s kingdom. When you look at a baby, it’s just that: a body you can look at and touch. But the person who takes shape within is formed by something you can’t see and touch—the Spirit—and becomes a living spirit.”
~ Jesus, John 3 5-6 MSG
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oh… P.S. – Serena & I did a blog swap today. Serena is hosting “Affair Week” at GraceIsForSinners.com so make sure you come on over and visit me.
wow… those were definitely words I never thought I’d say.
Tammy Hodge: Bringing Freedom
Today’s post was written by my mentor, encourager and good friend, Tammy Hodge.
She’s probably one of the most gracious and loving people I have ever met. Her story proves a bravery beyond anything I have ever known or imagined.
If you know her at all, you’ll know she HATES talking on the phone… yet she knows JUST when to call me and exactly what to say. And when she’s with you… she’s WITH YOU completely, undistracted.
She’ll be 39 here in a few days… but has the wisdom of an 80-year-old AND the potty humor of a 13-year-old boy. I say that with love… because she’s actually also one of the FUNNIEST people I know (she has made me laugh so hard, I’ve had panic attacks because I couldn’t breathe. the girl ain’t right.)
Tam, you may NOT know how to hold a baby or brush your teeth correctly… but I love you more than words and feel SO fortunate to have a friend like you in my life.
Thanks, Tammit!
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freedom: the quality or state of being exempt or released usually from something onerous
onerous: involving an amount of effort and difficulty that is oppressively burdensome
lately, there have been a lot of testimonies being written. several people have shared some deep dark secrets from their pasts. i know, first hand, this is not an easy task. and it is a task. it’s extremely difficult to muster up the courage to reveal something that has kept you in bonds for so long. it somehow becomes your identity. the thing you are. at least, we make it who we are. we force it to be so that we might possibly feel better about ourselves. but…it never works. there is always a nagging truth, reality, that hangs over your head and sits heavily on your shoulders each day. you carry it around and allow it to slow you down. it slows you down from everything. yet…letting that weight go can be terribly scary. partly because of the reveal part…the fact that you are sharing something for the first time. but mostly it’s scary due to what is being revealed. it’s often the thing that keeps us from releasing what bonds us.
so when i see someone releasing an oppressive burden… i know what they’ve gone through to get there. i immediately feel lighter for them. i retrace the steps it takes to get to that moment and i breathe a deep sigh of relief for them.
all this to say…
jenni – what you have done this year took courage. it took a hell of a lot of courage to say that. i am proud of you is so lacking the right word. a confession does not excuse a behavior. but it does prove an acknowledgment and ownership of an act that caused hurt. and in my opinion, very few people are willing to put their necks on the chopping block. but you did. and i applaud you! your story will change lives. it will liberate others. it will shed light where there has been darkness for far too long. it will bring freedom. it is bringing freedom!
thank you for choosing the tough route…for knowing enough that the alternative route would have been even tougher.
i love you.
asian.
David Goodwin: Stereotyped?
Today’s post was written by my friend, David Goodwin.
David and his wife, Diane, are a part of my LifeGroup Online group. We’ve been meeting for over a year now and I can honestly say that David & Diane are a couple we have not only come to love deeply, but trust fully.
Just like me, David is the Worship Director at his church in Australia and better yet, sang in a barbershop quartet in high school. For those of you who don’t know… I did too.
David and Diane are not fair-weathered friends. They are faithful, constant, loving, merciful, strong, brave, gracious and forgiving. All the things I work towards being more of.
They have stood firmly in God’s word, encouraging and supporting me often but have also called me out in truth when needed. These two are my prayer warriors. I believe they are this way because they THEMSELVES have weathered the storm… many times.
Read these wise, grace-filled words… and take it to heart.
Without further adieu, please welcome… DAVID GOODWIN.
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I don’t talk about it. With anyone. Ever.
That’s mainly because I don’t think I want the consequences I think will come from talking about it. But I don’t know if those consequences are real or imagined. It’s not as though no-one knows, and a large percentage of people I meet assume what I’m about to say anyway, despite the factual evidence to the contrary.
However…
For most of my life, I was gay.
Or rather, I believed the lie that I was gay and nothing could be done about it.
That’s the first time I’ve ever written those words.
And I’m not making a song and dance about it (maybe I should…using “Single Ladies“ and the cast of Glee), but it’s a large part of my life testimony that’s essentially been torn out of the story book.
Until now.
Don’t misunderstand me, this is my past, not my future. My former self, not my current self. Who I was, not who I am.
While I was gay…
- I didn’t fully embrace the lifestyle, though I had opportunity…and wanted to.
- I didn’t cut off from my Christian family, though I moved far from them, partly for fear of rejection.
- I didn’t leave church physically, though I did emotionally and spiritually.
- I didn’t stop being a Christian. Sin doesn’t revoke salvation.
What I did do was allow spiritual oppression to come upon me. That’s OK. We all do that from time to time.
It’s not right, but it’s OK. (thanks Whitney…)
Wait. Isn’t homosexuality genetic? Well, despite this video clearly explaining from 1m40s onward that the Greeks invented gayness (ironic comedy people), the consensus on homosexuality is as clear as the science on evolution, but I’m not here to debate.
I’m just filling in some lifestory gaps.
I’ve always been camp. It’s who I was, who I still am, there’s nothing wrong with that. But for years, I let the lifestyle the world stereotypically associates with male sensitivity/creativity/propensity-to-break-out-in-Broadway-musicals-in-supermarkets override my God-given destiny.
And I knew something was wrong. That’s why I never went all in. The Holy Spirit within me kept nudging. Only I didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t have the knowledge I needed to understand this condition wasn’t “just the way it is”.
So I accepted a lie. A miserable, debauched lie. satan was having his way with me.
But God, in His grace and mercy, set people across my path who opened my eyes to battles taking place in the spiritual realm affecting our physical lives. All gleaned from Scripture, but I’d never seen it before. It all made sense.
How could I have been so blind?
(Yeah, dumb question in hindsight. satan’s aim is to find ways of blindfolding us from the Light. he’s good at it)
Armed with new knowledge (and fresh revelation of past experiences…like the time I was protected by a visible angel…another story…), I went into battle. With help from friends new and old, satan lost yet another fight. He didn’t go down quietly – he never does – but that’s why the weapons God gives us for warfare are strong and mighty for breaking down strongholds.
The mind-games satan played on me involved stereotypes. he uses these seemingly innocuous casts to convince us that you can’t break the mold.
So he tries all sorts of crap…
- you can’t be a straight man and understand the difference between stilettos and pumps.
- you can’t desire a woman and be interested in why she prefers Napoleon Perdis over M.A.C.
- and you can’t be a heterosexual male and not only understand what these books are saying, but also how to implement the advice therein for the greater good.
Except you can, and even though society is more accepting of the concept that being metrosexual and heterosexual can be mutually inclusive, what society accepts doesn’t matter.
It’s all about God. And I don’t want it any other way. He’s jealous, He loves me, and I love Him. I’m choosing the destiny He’s mapped out for me, often against the will of my flesh. Even though I don’t have the same battles as my former self, life presents new conflicts of will. In every instance, I want to be sure I choose Life over life.
After this battle was won He was able to set me on an entirely unexpected path. One where I’d meet my wife. Via the internet. And travel the world. And emigrate. And break into song in supermarkets together.
But much of that part of the story has been documented. With video. And fluorescent swirls on my shirt. I look hawt.
Our Story (Part Three)
Guest posted by: Brian Clayville
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The very thought of this was overwhelmingly humiliating for both of us. Jenni had just conquered several years worth of fear by telling me her most painful secret and now a week later, I was asking her to expose this ugliness to all those closest to us. She shut down in fear…
… but not for long.
Within 24 hours, Jenni did as I asked. Our Pastor and his wife, Matt & Cindy, were at our house the next night. Jenni shared her story boldly, even though she knew she could lose her job as the Worship Pastor at Church at Bethany. This was a big deal because we really needed this income. Our fear was quickly quieted and Jenni’s willingness to be honest was embraced. Matt and Cindy were gracious, forgiving and supportive. Not only did they choose to keep Jenni on staff, but they really helped us in many ways through our healing process. I can’t say many people in church leadership are like this.
Over the next few days, Jenni called our closest friends… the ones she had lied to and confessed her story. One of her first calls was to the wife of the man she had the affair with. That’s a whole different story, but I can tell you that she forgave Jenni and they are actively working through an amazing restoration in their friendship. The reaction from the rest of our friends and family were varied but most were very forgiving and full of grace. I was and still am so proud of her for being willing to risk so much and to be so vulnerable.
The months following didn’t get any easier. I guess you can say I was going through the grieving process. I pulled back from life. Several times, I wanted to give up on our marriage and just escape the pain. Maybe a handful of people checked in on me or called to encourage me… but this was rare. I’m not saying this is their fault, but the reality is people didn’t know what to do or what to say, so they just did nothing. Jenni and I had counseling but that was only an hour every week.
I felt abandoned.
The worst part was how distant I felt from God. I withdrew from Him just as I did from most people in my life. He felt so distant and irrelevant to me that I could not bring myself to pray or seek him with any consistency.
Finally, in mid-August, I knew it was time to stop focusing on my pain. It was MY turn to heal. It was time to come out of this desert. I asked God to use my horrible reality for his Glory. It was not clear to me what that meant or how I would do it, but I MADE that decision.
Jenni arranged a last minute trip to my parents’ house in La Grande. We spent a lot of time praying, being quiet and just BEING together. I found God again… right where I had left him. This weekend away became an instrumental time for our marriage. We were healing. Not just the pretend-stuff-it-under-the-rug “healing”… but we were falling in love again. Me and God… and me and Jenni.
We came home with a new hope, a new goal and a new future. We were like newlyweds. Everything was actually good, which was amazing because there was a time when I truly wondered if anything would ever be “good” again. My marriage was… no… is GREAT!
This was when God decided to do as I had asked – use my horrible reality for His Glory. In my quiet time with God, He spoke:
“It’s time for you to share your story…”
“WHAT??? Jen will NEVER go with this! She had a hard enough time telling those closest to us!” I argued back. But God was going before us in a way I had never imagined.
Jenni came home from her staff meeting that day and said, “Matt wants us to share our story at church… and I think it’s time.”
We knew this was God ordained. We knew it was time to finally obey God completely with our marriage. We were scared spitless. EVERYONE was going to know. EVERYONE was going to judge us… judge Jenni…
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Read Our Story in order here:
Our Story (Part Two)
Brian, my better half, is going to “guest-blog” and write the next two parts of our story:
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When Jenni broke the news to me, I was devastated to say the least.
I went and stayed with my friend, Todd, who had recently been through some hard times of his own. For the next few days, Todd gave me a safe place to talk, pray and have a quiet place to rest.
He listened to my story.
He comforted me.
He gave me space to process.
In my own reflection, I felt like such a small man. I had been too weak to confront issues that had obviously been inappropriate. Why had I not set stronger boundaries… been more protective and jealous? How could I have not seen this happening with my wife? After all… this was MY WIFE.
The next few weeks were an emotional roller coaster. There were days, I totally blamed Jenni and the other man (who was my friend). ”How could they have done this to me?” Those days, I just wanted a divorce because I thought it wouldn’t hurt anymore. However, there were also days where I just celebrated the fact that Jenni had finally been truthful with me. Though the news was devastating, she ultimately chose to honor me… risking everything by telling me about her affair.
I realized that I had come very close to losing the love of my life.
You see, Jenni grew up in an emotionally abusive home and had a lot of emotional scars that needed to heal. This didn’t stop at childhood. I have actually witnessed this during the time of our marriage. My wife had been walking on eggshells for 30 years. This caused her to build walls around herself for protection. She was ready for conflict at all times… even if she didn’t need to be. She NEVER felt safe, protected, or truly loved unconditionally. I didn’t know how to provide all she needed. Nor was I capable at that time.
Todd challenged me to stay by her and love her through the process. He reminded me that my boys needed a father AND mother working together to be Godly role models. That’s when I finally made the decision:
I wanted to make our marriage work.
The work of processing through where I had failed in our marriage looked me straight in the eyes. What I saw in myself was revealing and uncomfortable.
I rarely ever pursued Jenni.
I avoided anything that felt like conflict with her.
I never attempted heart felt communication with her.
I was not jealous enough as a husband and best friend to seek her full attention.
By not saying anything, I told Jenni she didn’t matter enough to me for me to fight for her. I didn’t protect her OR cherish her. Though she was the one who chose to splinter from our marriage vows, I knew I too was responsible for the breakdown of our marriage.
But the more I thought about this three year secret that had just surfaced, the more I realized I wasn’t the only person Jenni had hidden this part of her life from. For lack of better words, Jenni had lied to many of our close friends and family too. I asked her if she would go and tell them the truth.
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Our Story – Part One
Cindy Beall: A Man Without A Home
Today’s post was written by the one and only Cindy Beall.
Cindy is an example of a woman I’m striving to be like one day.
I sort of stalk her. Not in the “single-white-female” psycho kind of way… but in the “Wow, she’s amazing!” kind of way. She’s got more forgiveness and grace in her pinky fingerNAIL than I have in my whole being.
I have a LOT to learn.
You can read more about her story HERE.
Cindy… thanks for writing over here today. Amidst your busy schedule and hectic life, you still chose to share your life with us. You challenge me to be better person. I’m grateful for you.
Without further adieu… here’s Cindy…
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I felt someone come up behind me as I was unloading my basket full of groceries onto the conveyor belt at my local grocery store. I eventually turned around only to lay eyes on a taller man with a disheveled appearance. The clothes he was wearing were filthy, stained and in poor condition. His aroma was equally disturbing. But he smiled, nonetheless. And appeared to be a relatively happy soul.
At that time, I realized he was the man. The man who rides his bike throughout the town where I live. The man who can often be found wearing three layers of clothing on a hot, July day in Oklahoma. The man who is often snoozing underneath a Bradford Pear tree to shield himself from the precipitous elements.
“I hate the rain,” he said smiling. I couldn’t help but notice that his teeth were in awful condition. I imagine due to the fact that he probably doesn’t brush his teeth everyday or go see his dentist twice a year like I do. Like my entire family does.
I smiled back at him, eyeballing my purse as I did. It was loaded with my grocery cash and newly replenished Dave Ramsey allowance. I didn’t want to lose it for it might mean I would lose the money I was about to use to go by a new pair of jeans. And he’s clearly the sort to steal money.
Or so I thought.
Once I finished and moved down, the space allowed him to place his items down that he was about to purchase. He put a pair of jeans, a watch, a 12-pack of AA batteries and a 16-oz. bottle of Grape Crush down. Then he did something I wasn’t prepared for. He whipped out a wad of cash from his pocket and began to thumb through the bills for he knew his time to render his goods was upon him.
What in the world, I found myself thinking. I mean, here is a man who doesn’t appear to have a home, appears to be in need yet he appears to have plenty of money to take care of his needs and even some wants. Because y’all, he didn’t need that watch because he was already wearing one.
The scene was oxymoronic at best. I was speechless, almost without the ability to glean an intelligent thought about what I was experiencing.
Before the wad of cash was thumbing through his fingers, I was close to giving him some of my currency. My hard-earned, well-deserved money. But now, I was confused. What if I offered it to him and he turned me down because he didn’t really need it? Was I willing to deal with my pride being spat upon in the face of my generosity of a $20 bill? What if he did take it and asked for more? Was I willing to give it? All of it?
But I didn’t offer. Nor did I give him anything.
I had the opportunity to show who I was as a Christ follower. Instead, I showed who I was as a Christ follower.
As I drove home in my nicely-equipped, almost paid-for SUV, I realized that I was not completely comfortable about the encounter with the man without a home. Yes, my heart was tugged on but clearly not enough to do anything about it. And that can either mean that maybe I wasn’t supposed to offer the man anything or that my heart has grown calloused to the needs around me.
Ruin me, Lord.
I need to be ruined.
Sarah Markley: Itches & Miracles
Today’s post is written by my sweet, beautiful friend, Sarah.
Sarah and Chad have quickly grown into irreplaceable friends for Brian and myself. Our lives intertwine in the most incredible ways. Chad’s cousin grew up in the high school small group Brian led… but the most miraculous must be the timing of which we met. Sarah & Chad’s story is a lot likes ours.
These two have been instrumental in surrounding us with prayer, checking in and supporting us as we took our story public. Everyone NEEDS friends like these. Find people who’s life stories are similar to yours. Stories that run parallel cultivate the most amazing friendships.
Thank you, Sarah, for writing your heart on my blog today. I love you!
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It hurts to heal. Or at least itches.
When I was a little girl I would scrape my knee/shin/elbow like all little girls do. After a band-aid was in place my father would tell me not to itch it. I would think, “It doesn’t itch yet, it just hurts!”
But he was right; as soon as the wound would begin to heal, it would begin to itch and I’d want to rip off the bandage and scratch scratch scratch until it felt better.
But what I didn’t realize was the itching it would have reopened the wound. The scrape, even if it hurt and itched, needed the environment of the bandage to heal.
And time. And then a miracle.
It’s the same with us. With our big stories and big wounds and I-don’t-think-it-will-ever-be-the-same situations.
Healing hurts: I remember when I began the process of healing from my years of destroying my own marriage and watching my husband heal at the same time how much it hurt. Almost all the time. And I know it was necessary — the breaking and tearing away of my old habits, my old perceptions about myself and the world, the grief from watching the first seven years of my marriage crumble. No memory for us was safe from what I had done to our life together. We had to mourn the death of our marriage and try to rebuild.
Healing needs the right environment: When we walked down the process of healing, my husband and I made sure that we created the right environment for our fledgling marriage to prosper. We went to weekly therapy sessions and sought the regular counsel of our pastors. We got rid of all the things that had been a distraction for us earlier including inappropriate movies, alcohol, and unhealthy relationships. We cushioned our baby-marriage with the things that would help to heal. We put a bandage on and tried not to scratch.
Healing takes time: And then we waited. And while we waited we did the right things, the things we’d been taught to do, the things that would help us climb out of the hole that we’d dug for ourselves. This part of it can’t be hurried and this is where discipline and patience comes in. We wanted to fix things with a word, with a conversation, with one therapy session, but that’s impossible. We are human beings with hearts that break and need time to be worked back to wholeness. So we waited. And sometimes we wanted to pull the bandage off and see the new skin grown back underneath. But it wasn’t finished yet.
Healing takes a miracle: And then there’s that. With a normal wound, even with the right environment and time, the body still needs to regenerate skin cells and rebuild capillaries that have been severed. This part of it is the miracle. I can’t force a miracle. It has to come from outside myself, outside of my control. God is the One who created a heart (and a marriage) and He is the miracle-variable. He ultimately does the healing. His hands fix wounded souls and relationships that have been shattered. Hope in Him mends all that’s been broken.
Pulling off the bandage even hurts sometimes. But the tender, healed skin beneath it is worth the waiting, the pain and the sacrifice.
SWAP: “Rubber Meets the Road”
Lynse Stevens is a sweet precious friend of mine.
Here’s a woman who has not only faced every blow life has had to give her head on and said, “You will not decide who I will become!” but she’s turned all of that energy towards flipping all the negative to show God’s amazing grace and love for us. She challenges all who have ever been “damaged” to step up and say, “I don’t have to stay damaged!”
We did a blog swap today so my writing is over there. Make sure you stop by!
You can check out more of her writing on her blog site at www.lynseleanne.com
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Have you ever felt broken?
not like the Godly broken….but like the nitty gritty broken. like you just dont work right. like there is something horribly wrong with you?
i have been spending some time feeling that way lately. i cant really pin point down where or why all of a sudden i feel this way. but it is an overwhelming sense that i am broken.
….but maybe that is a good place to be.
all of my life i have had it together. even through physical and sexual abuse, drug addictions, parents divorce…i have had it in control and i knew it.
but right now in this season i dont have it together…i cant seem to get it together. and because i am a control freak i feel like something is wrong…that i am broken.
but as i spend time in my journal and spend time in the Word i am seeing that this may be a good place to be. It may be rock bottom for me.
weekly facing my demons in counseling…and it hurts.out of money….and daddy cant help this time.without a job…and scared out of my mind cause 5 years of my life was wrapped up in the current one.
and i can not fix any of it….not one single bit of it.
only God can. and that scares me even more….because, frankly i have played a game. I have played Christian because it was my job, cause i knew it was “right”, cause i live in the south and thats what everyone does….but now the rubber meets the road….
do i believe that God can take this mess that I have made of my life and put it back together?
I think He can…in fact…i know He can.
Where does the rubber meet the road for you?
Jenni on Skype: jclayville 
