One slow song changes everything...

I have a story... don't tune me out quite yet. So I'm a processor. That's really stating the obvious, actually. I'm also pretty open with my feelings. That being said though, I try not to just randomly spill feelings and opinions unless asked. I love it that way because it gives me time to think about an experience and how I feel about it. Sometimes though, I have to talk about it to process it. So for me, it's safer to write than speak. There is a false sense of anonymity, but it works for what I need it to. It gives me a chance to ponder out loud without being heard...and that keeps me honest...

So my story. A long time ago, I told God that I would do whatever he wanted me to do. Growing up in a Christian school and the conservative church, it went without saying that this is indicative of overseas missions or full time Christian ministry. My heart broke for all the people overseas, but I knew from a young age that overseas missions was not my calling. After telling my mentor, it became "obvious" to everyone around me that Little Miss Super Involved was called to be one thing and one thing only...a pastor's wife...more specifically a youth pastor's wife. I remember thinking, ummmm...ok? Sure. That's better than being out of God's will. Now trust me. What I know now is that the youth pastors wives I know are rocking awesome. However, growing up, the understanding is that they are strictly in the supportive, administrative role, never actually pastoring unless it was strictly in a group of females. I knew that God wanted me for more, but I remember feeling helpless, that if I didn't grow up and marry a youth pastor, I would be disappointing every spiritual person in my life. 

I know now that I am not the only one who feels his way. A friend of mine somewhat recently shares almost this same story but from a guy's point of view. I honestly don't remember being able to say much more than, "Wow, that's so true!" I mean, how often do you hear someone literally speak the words that you have kept in your heart your whole life and not ever dared to speak? Even now, knowing that there is destiny outside of the circles of full time and overseas ministries presents a challenge. After having that "prophetic word" over you your whole life, you cannot deny that God has plans for you, but it also leaves a crack for the Enemy to attack, saying we have it all wrong and we can't be in the perfect will unless *start laundry list of legalisms.* Growing up in the church has it's challenges, especially when those close to you are in ministry themselves.

So my story...I have been helping a friend of mine with his outreach ministry to the neighborhood kiddos for the past few weeks. From my first week, I knew my life would be changed. You see, I had been and am still asking God to take me to the next level. I am also in the processof getting  certified for foster parenting. Honestly, a big fear I have had for a while on this has been that I don't know if I could love other kids like I am supposed to...like how God wants us to. 

So the past few weeks, I've been connecting with a few particular kids, and I take their spirits home with me. Some nights I lie awake, their hearts heavy on mine. It's how I feel when I know Isaiah is with his dad overnights. I know what this is. It's love. It's heartache for their heartache...and I don't even know what kind of heartache it is. 

So here is a confession. I've been fighting it too. When I see them, I connect, but I guard. It's honestly something that I have had to repent for. Today in the car actually. I was driving home from a foster training class. All day, I had been listening to upbeat, energetic songs. However, one song that I love came on...and I listened. There's something about slow songs and gutwrenching lyrics that make you honest even if it has nothing to do with what you are hiding. You see, by not connecting as deeply as we are called to, a part of me thought it would be doing the kids a favor, since I will somehow one day let them down. It's one fewer abandonment or heartbreak if I keep it at a distance. 

Last night that changed. There is a little guy (we can call him "Little R") who has a spirit of recklessness. He doesn't really have boundaries. He tends to lash out and get violent. Of course, I love the dysfunctional ones, so he and I have been friends for the last few weeks. We have something in common, after all. Dysfunction was once a friend of mine. Well, last night he was again just a smudge too rambunctious, so we partnered up. We were playing a game, and we were having a blasty blast. Well, it turned into a competition, and we got out. So we walked over to the grass, and he just jumped into my arms and said, "I love you, Mama. I love you! Mama! You my Mama!"

As I hugged him and told him "I love you too, kiddo," I felt his spirit change from one of recklessness to one of security. In that moment, he was safe, and he was loved. He was calm, and he was peaceful. And after that brief moment, my heart broke wide open. So long I have heard it preached that love multiplies. I just didn't know how someone like me, though now healed, could love so much after so much brokenness. 

So the moment ended, but I am still feeling the effects. I have known, but now I better understand that I cannot love these kids on my own. I cannot even love my own child on my own. As much as I want to, I can't. Perfect love casts out fear. If I am scared to love, I am useless, paralyzed and broken. 

Don't be afraid to open your heart. Sometimes, it's gonna hurt. Sometimes, it's not going to make sense. Sometimes, it may seem that it's way more trouble than it's worth. Let Christ's love then overwhelm you. His love is perfect, not ours. 

Oh...and about that pastor thing? 

Whether I marry a pastor or not, I am pastoring every day, every moment that I take time to listen, to hug, to support...I may not be up in a pulpit or leading mass revivals in Africa, but I am where God has placed me for this season of my life. 

Listen to the slow songs...they can change everything. 

The unforced rhythms of grace...

So my Poor dude had a rough night...tested every nerve of patience I possess, and even more that I DON'T have after that. 

You see, every time he has an overnight visit down south, within 6 hours of getting him back, he has a meltdown, giving both of us the opportunity to re-establish the boundaries that I am the boss and he is not. With that discipline comes such a sweet time of repentance. Isaiah just transforms and becomes the amazing, sweet, compassionate, obedient child he was before I dropped him off just a day before. 

Yesterday was the exception. I picked him up, and he did WAY better right after than he has ever done before. Breathing a sigh of relief, I literally whispered to God, "Finally...we are getting more used to this." I can tell you this...there is nothing worse than seeing your child lash out, TRYING to get you to react so he can have some sense of stability and control. While it is comforting to know that you are safe enough and consistent enough to bring him back in, it's also heartbreaking. For a four year old, it's the difference between life and death. So anyways, I was pleased. I was happy that hopefully, for at least once during these visits, my child was not in a negative atmosphere. 

That all changed. We have been helping with one of my  friend's children's ministry on Monday nights. I received a text message this morning that outlined what the topic of teaching was going to be...the love of the Father. Of course, Isaiah chooses to have his meltdown right before the teaching started. I panicked. All sorts of emotions flooded over me. The main ones--sadness and embarrassment. Sadness because he still DID have his negative reaction...it wasn't absent. It was just delayed. Something felt different about the embarrassment though. In the heat of the moment, I couldn't place my finger on it.

Something magical happens when you step out of the frustration when you least feel like it and see it for what it really is--a chance to give peace and security.

After crying for what seemed like forever (it was actually probably only like 2 minutes), he finally broke. He quit fighting and just sobbed...clinging to me, saying that he missed me and that I was far away yesterday. It took everything I had to not fall apart. 

When I got home,  I just started dwelling on this. I got to thinking: how often do we go do something out of our normal lives? Maybe it's something that has developed into a habit. Maybe it's something that we have grown comfortable with and don't realize that it affects us. Other people can see...but we can't. Or maybe we can. Maybe we feel what I felt when I couldn't identify where the embarrassment stemmed from. It didn't take long for me to figure out that embarrassment was a disguise. What the true feeling was is that of condemnation. 

When we feel condemned, how many can admit that it is not the default to turn to God? I know for one that it is not mine. My flesh would like nothing more than to make excuses and just feel sorry for myself...have my little venting sessions that don't solve anything but to pull me deeper into "piety" and validation. But that's the great thing about God. He doesn't care what your flesh wants. He will keep providing those little whispers and little convictions to bring us to our knees and see things as they really are. I'm so fortunate that He has brought me to a place where I hate not listening. I hate the life that I live on my own. Yet I love the life I have when I'm listening to His voice. 

The best part of God is His safety. If we obey and listen to what He is speaking, we have the security to just fall apart on Him. To spill our guts and tell Him WHY we have been doing our own thing. And the safest part? He already knows. 😄 He knows the blackest parts of our hearts, yet He--the Creator of the Universe!--takes time to sit with ME...stroke my hair. Whisper words of comfort to me...My grace is sufficient for you! My strength is made perfect in your weakness! And As far as the east is from the west, so far have your sins been removed from you. 

And just when I am falling apart, He pulls me back in through his gentle discipline and peaceful security and grace. 

For the birds...

Now it's no surprise if you know me at all that Valentine's Day and I don't get along very well. This may come as a shock to some since I can be one of THE most hopeless romantics of all time. Like literally--Little ol' optimistic realistic me--hopeless! I have had (what my sister calls) a love affair with Sleeping Beauty since I was 2 years old. I make up music videos and cast them in my head. I could also wax on eloquently about how Valentine's Day is just the worst because it's just a corporate holiday designed to make card makers a chocolate factories billions of dollars. That's not the point though. I honestly LOVE receiving little gifts, even if it's just a post-it note saying hello. It's not the gift giving that is the problem.

Now, just for the record, I am not the "I hate this day cause I don't have a valentine!" girl. I am single by choice until God unveils the eyes of a godly man and speaks to both our hearts. No rush! I'm content to wait for God's timing--He knows best!

No, the  true reason I don't like Valentine's Day is that it's supposed to represent true love but it doesn't.  I was thinking about what true love means to me. We get so hung up on romantic love on V-Day that we don't consider the other types of love. Until the last two years, I didn't know in the slightest what true love was. I felt guilt, shame, and condemnation for the longest time about what I am about to share.

When I got pregnant with my now four year old son who is just absolutely amazing, I was terrified. I lived in fear. You see, I had just had a surgery, so the do for said my body wouldn't be strong enough to carry the baby  past the halfway point. For this purpose, I did what no expectant mother should ever do. I prevented myself from bonding with my baby. I didn't even feel movement until about 10 weeks later than what to expect in the average pregnancy.

After I had my son, I was IN love, but I didn't love him. I did not experience that instant bond that mothers claim to receive upon seeing and holding their baby for the first time. I felt like a failure. On top of that, post partum and circumstantial depression clouded me like a heavy blanket of fog that just won't dissipate, no matter how hard you try to wave it away.  I rarely let other people hold him, because I wanted to so I could "jump start" these emotions. Finally, when he was about 3 months old, it clicked with me...he was actually MINE. My eyes were opened , and with tears' pouring down my cheek, I connected.

That was where my true love began.  It needed a lot of work though. Now I am a fairly intelligent girl. So this next part, I knew better. I threw myself in as well as I could into catching up and being a good mom, trying to juggle the baby, feeding, lawyers, court proceedings, etc. it was a very dark time for me, but my baby bear became my light. Depression still loomed very very heavily, and I succumbed to it many times.
These times would always be at night. The Enemy would sneak into my thoughts and lie to me. In these times, my heart would be hardened. I would start thinking about my circumstances and how  much this is NOT how I pictures my life. In these moments of weakness, I resented him.  I even cried out once and told God that He was terrible for bringing my son into such a mess. I never would admit it, but I often thought about how much easier life would be if he were not born. I would lie in bed, thinking about all this, and would wake up overpowered with guilt, shame, and condemnation.

Finally, the cycle broke. I got deliverance! Now I can honestly say that I love my son so much it hurts. I never knew that love could be truly unconditional.  Sure, he drives me batty sometimes, but I cannot imagine life without him. Then bible says "Perfect love drives out fear."  I don't need to exercise perfect love. Jesus exercises it for me. I cannot accomplish perfect love, but I can practice true love.

And for when I do have a valentine again? Awesome! Because Valentines Day will be just like any other day. God is love! He loves it more than we do! When God is the one who writes your love story, real love should be EVERY day. But until then, I will keep loving my son, my family, and my friends with real love, however that looks for each individual person.

Ok I'm done! #longwinded