Thought

Forgiveness

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Bound

Anyone who has been a Christian for any amount of time knows a thing or two about forgiveness. First, there’s the fact that we’ve been forgiven so much, a concept that still blows my mind when I think of some of the things I’ve done or worse yet, acknowledge the things my heart was capable of doing. Then at some point, we dig a little deeper and find the skeletons of long ago that still cause our hearts to grieve and/or our blood to boil to the point of seething and we slowly start letting go of them. We clean out the baggage that takes up much needed space in the closets of our hearts.

We find that forgiveness comes easy in some situations and much harder in others. I can vividly remember a particular situation that I went through where I found myself coming repeatedly to the Lord and crying out for help because I wanted to forgive and said I’d forgiven but I knew in my heart I wasn’t over it yet. Some wounds are deeper than others. I would leave my prayer closet thinking I had overcome only to find myself fuming and my stomach churning the next time someone mentioned the offender’s name.

The beauty of such a long hard battle is that when the victory comes, it somehow seems sweeter. My victory in this situation was actually subtle. After years of prayer and struggle, I ran into said person at a store one day. I say “ran into” but the truth is I walked by and noticed someone hiding behind a fruit display in the produce department. This person apparently spotted me first. That struck me as so funny that I figured I’d go be pleasant and eliminate the need of any future fruit cover up.

I was standing there in the produce department having a conversation with someone who hurt and abused me, someone who threatened the life of me and my daughter, someone who had held the weight of my wrath for so long, as if we were old friends catching up. I realized in that moment that it no longer hurt. I was no longer angry. I had obtained my freedom without really knowing it until confronted with it. There were no lightning bolts from heaven signifying the end of an era. I didn’t need to ‘hug it out’ or have any real sense of closure on the situation. It was simply done. Hidden and absorbed with the blood spilled to free me in an old cross, and purged by peace into life.

I’ve found myself being confronted with this passage of scripture several times recently,

 “Therefore if you bring your gift to the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you,leave your gift there before the altar, and go your way. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.” Matthew 5:23-24

What people often overlook in these verses is that Jesus said if someone has something against you, not the other way around. Obviously, we know if we have something against someone else, we need to go make it right, but Jesus raises the standard. He doesn’t want us to allow strife at all. We are required to make an effort even when it’s someone else holding the offense against us. This, in my opinion, is a tough one.

I had a conversation the other day with someone who was adamantly refusing to make an effort to make peace with a person because they were convinced that was they said was right. My counsel to them was that it doesn’t matter if you are right, you don’t have to say you were wrong, but you are required to try to mend the relationship between you and your brother. God doesn’t tolerate strife, period.

We often allow our own pride and defensiveness drive our actions. I believe that though we never compromise on what we believe, we don’t always have to fight for ourselves. God will defend the righteous. That is His job. Our job, according to Micah 6:8 is this, “And what does the Lord require of you, But to do justly, To love mercy, And to walk humbly with your God?”

There are times when we will extend the olive branch of peace to another person and that person is not willing to accept it. I believe in those situations all we can do is pray for them and continue to walk in love toward them. God knows our hearts and will not hold the actions and attitudes of another against us. Please don’t take the effort to mend a relationship to an unhealthy extreme. I have seen people who become almost obsessed with trying to make someone forgive them or like them. You are only responsible for what you do. If someone else refuses to forgive, let it go. It’s between them and God.

When we choose not to forgive someone else we are binding that person to our hearts. I refuse to allow those who have wronged me to continue to have any effect on my life. I am determined to free myself of them and any chain they have in me. So I forgive quickly. When it’s hard I pray for them even through clinched teeth when necessary, until the chain is broken.

Forgiveness is one of the most freeing things we as mortals are given the pleasure of experiencing. I am so thankful for the forgiveness and grace extended to me by my Savior, Jesus Christ. I am so thankful for the people who love and bear with me daily as I make my way through this earthly existence. I am so thankful that I am given the opportunity to release the chains that bind my heart when I hold an offense against another person. We are blessed.

 

On Changes and Eggs

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I love to get a good deal. It’s almost a hobby. I say almost, because the truth is, I’m only obsessive about it sometimes and then I get bored. I guess I’m like that in a lot of areas, but I digress. One deal I recently ran into allowed me to get several new magazine subscriptions for free! Big smile!  FREE!!!!  (Mental picture of me standing on my dining room table screaming “Freedom” William Wallace style…don’t worry I didn’t really do that). I snagged some magazines for my hubby and a few that I’d never read but seemed relatively intriguing. I totally dig reading and sometimes crave the randomness found in a magazine so I was thrilled.

The crazy thing that I’m realizing though is that as I peruse through the articles before me, I find myself inspired in so many different ways. I’m instantly ready to try something new. Not earth shattering, morality, changing kind of stuff of course. As everyone who knows me can tell you I’m stubborn and opinionated about virtually everything of importance. Rather, I’m ready to try new things in the mundane areas of my life. I’m willing to completely reinvent my hairdo on a whim or change my wardrobe just to experiment. I’ll want to redecorate my house for no reason, other than maybe the kids left a mess so rather than just clean it, I’ll redo it ALL.

Maybe I should find some crazy art deco piece at a garage sale and paint the house to match or use it to inspire a new outfit or cut up an old outfit and sew it back together with remnants from other outfits to catch the spirit of the piece that so uniquely expresses me…or who I want to be.

I realize this sounds incredibly crazy. But the beauty of it is found in the fact that I am allowed to be who I am. I am free to be ME and I guess a part of me is still unburying who that really is from under my former life. I try not to talk too much about my past, but the truth is, here on the other side looking back I gain so much perspective and appreciation for where I am now.

I had an epiphany last week while stealing eggs from my husband. I cannot make that sentence make sense without a little bit of back-story, so indulge me.

My ex husband was extremely controlling (understatement alert). I wasn’t allowed to eat certain foods because he didn’t like them. That even sounds weird to me as I type it, but it was my life. Rather than fight and suffer the consequences of arguing with him, I ate my eggs scrambled for TEN years! (There were a myriad of other issues far more extreme than this that led to our divorce – disclaimer – I didn’t divorce over eggs…moving on). After the wedding, so many things that were uniquely me were forced into isolation. I had to hide who I was in so many areas for so long that I cannot describe the freedom that comes with being able to breathe again.

My daughter once told me that when I started dating my husband, there were things she thought were an act for his benefit that she later realized were actually the real me who she’d never known. A sad and scary sentence but it is so true. I am now a completely free woman who is married to her hero and best friend and who can eat her eggs any way she likes, which brings me full circle.

Last week, James was eating his breakfast and I stole a bite of his eggs (cooked over medium) and remembered that my entire life, minus ten ridiculous years, I ate my eggs over medium and now I am free to eat them that way again.

I can also wear clothes that I like. I can keep my hair short, long, medium, wavy, straight or in a bun. I can sing as loudly as I want in my own home. I can rearrange the furniture or paint the kitchen or cook for hours. I can work or clean or write or read or play my guitar without repercussions. I am FREE!!!

I’ve also learned that allowing myself to hide from who I am is insulting to me and to God who made me just like this and who cares about my silly thoughts. He loves me for me. My husband loves me for me. I am happy.

Movement

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This morning when I woke up, the outer bands of Isaac were still making their way across Southwest Florida. It was beautiful. We slept peacefully last night to the sound of the rain. School was cancelled so we didn’t have to get up at five AM which was a plus.

I looked out the window and saw strips and gatherings of clouds scattered across the sky moving as if with a mission setting off to find their allies. They are still moving quickly, leaving enough space between them to let small banners of sunlight peek through.

I am praying for those on the other end of the Gulf Coast who may be impacted far more than we were. I pray that Isaac will dissipate completely before ever reaching land.

The thing that keeps striking me this morning though is the movement. When I opened the Bible this morning, the first scripture jumping off the page at me was Isaiah 55:10-11 “For as the rain comes down and the snow from heaven, And do not return there, but water the earth and make it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower and bread to the earth. So shall my word be that goes forth from my mouth. It shall not return to me void, but it shall accomplish what I please and it shall prosper in the thing for which I sent it.”

I keep looking out the window at the clouds moving by like an army marching to battle. I can’t help but stare at the canal behind my house where the water is moving faster than ever; drops marching collectively as if to the cadence of a masterful drummer. That’s how His word is. It’s sent forth with a specific purpose into the earth. Every word designed and precisely ordered to accomplish what He pleases.

We are going to be held accountable for our words. Are the words we speak designed to produce life or do we merely speak just for the sake of talking? Are we diligent about loving the lost or are we quick to use our tongues as swords against them?

I pray that my actions, thoughts and words are in cadence with the rhythm coming forth from the throne of God. I pray the words of my mouth and meditations of my heart would be acceptable in His sight. (Psalm 19:14) Perhaps as we move in purpose, it will make way for His light to shine through the shadows.

Even though the rain must fall from time to time, His light is always there enveloping the earth with warmth and abundance. His love invaded the earth to overthrow sin and death that once held us captive. I, for one, desire to follow Him to battle and help to release the prisoners of war still bound and longing to taste freedom. I pray my actions and my words always reflect that.

Our words should be like water to the thirsty soul. Our mouths should be carriers of truth to the parched earth below. We should see life and good fruit from what we say and do.

Isaiah 55 also says that His thoughts are not our thoughts and His ways are not our ways. I know His ways are so much higher than ours yet I can’t help but desire that His desires would become my desires. I want to think like He does and connect with His heartbeat. I know that so often I am not tuned into His cadence and His voice. I am thankful that He brings the occasional windy, rainy, storm to come along and recapture my attention.

Majesty

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Wading deeply into light (formless substance we are unable to hold still more solid than any reality)

Your cloak composed of starlight

Bright fire from your eyes escapes to cover the earth with heat

Majestic you rise to take your place

A realm man cannot fathom

Vast beyond dream yet existing in…on…around

You only, are everything

I am small but I am yours

Yesterday morning while coming home from taking my daughter to school, I was struck by the majesty of this sunrise (this photo doesn’t even begin to capture it but it was the best I could do while driving). The sun stood low in the sky but was larger than I’d ever seen it. I couldn’t help but worship as I thought about the son of the living God who watches over us with His infinite love and grace rising to take his place on the throne of my heart.

I’m continually awed by the thought that the God who stretched out the heavens with his hands, who spoke everything into being, loves ME enough to reach into my life and redeem me. I am so small in the grand scheme of things but he knows & loves ME. That baffles me.

I am in His thoughts and they are good! “For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11

He rejoices over me, sings over me and comforts me. “The Lord your God in your midst, The Mighty One, will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.”  Zephaniah 3:17

I believe if we ever really got ahold of that we would never be the same. I am comforted daily by a comforter who wraps me up in his presence and quiets me with his love. It doesn’t get better than that.

I don’t serve God out of fear or to obtain a “get out of hell free” card. I serve the Lord because I am captured and amazed by a love that lights my darkness and intimately adores me. I serve the Lord because His life is abundant. I serve the Lord because I can’t imagine loving him more but I earnestly desire to spend the rest of my life growing in love for him.

All he ever asked for was all of me and I intend to hold nothing back. That is the only reasonable thing I can do.

 

 

 

Vapor

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We aren’t promised tomorrow so live today as though you mean it. Clichés are so easy to say until you’re staring at the end of the tunnel wondering what went wrong.

I’ve spent so much time talking about seizing moments, creating opportunities and defining destiny. Then I think about how little I’ve accomplished and I cower under the weight of this self-imposed burden. At least I’ve begun.

Who knows but God what ripple rings out in the heavens, from the droplets pooled to substance, of songs I’ve sung, words I’ve penned or smiles offered in moments of need. What kind word might have made an impact? What kind action caused movement in the vastness of time?

A vapor in the wind I am, but vapor joined with other vapor forms rain that brings life to the earth beneath even though it’s unaware as it rises. It probably doesn’t know anything at all and in the grand scheme of things, I am clueless and ignorant as well. Therefore, I decree that I am actually making sense (yea right).

All I can determine is that the most important thing I have to offer is my “now”. I can only step as far as my legs will carry me, the residuals aren’t my problem. God can take every minute I sow and expand it into hours. I can only be present and aware of the canvas before me. “O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall show forth Your praise.” Psalm 51:15.

All the rest is trivial.

 

 

Of Life and Pinatas

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My son just turned six as you can see by my previous post “Birthday Thoughts from a Mushy Mom”. In typical “mushy mom” fashion, I let him convince me that he NEEDED a piñata to celebrate properly. Even in the store while purchasing said piñata all I could think about was America’s Funniest Home Videos and how it seems nothing good can ever come from such a thing…which led to my thinking about how on earth I could convince my husband to help in this activity as usually it’s the man assisting who ends up getting whacked in conspicuous places.

My husband and stepfather proved to be very wise men. They configured a pulley system of sorts from which to hang the piñata while providing ample distance between them and the onslaught of small people swinging bats. This also provided the perfect opportunity to mess with the youngsters by moving the piñata at random times thus disorienting them. You can watch what happened as my nephew Malachi stepped up to bat in the following video

We spent a lot of time laughing that day and I’ve watched all of the videos I took of all of the kids taking a whack at it, and I’ve laughed some more. Still, the last couple of days it’s gotten me thinking…

I can’t help but think that often I’m just a kid with a bat swinging randomly hoping for contact. God’s watching and probably laughing at me from time to time. Maybe He’s even moving the piñata occasionally to see if I’ll stay centered & listen for the sound as the prize inside swishes around.

We all have blindfolds on. Maybe it’s just the concept that we see through a glass dimly until we see Him face to face. Maybe it’s just that we allow things to get between us and Him and cover our eyes. The biggest tragedy isn’t when we can’t see, it’s when we don’t listen. He that has an ear, let him hear.

The kids eventually succeeded in breaking open the piñata and enjoying its spoils and so will we as long as we patiently endure. “And so, after he had patiently endured, he obtained the promise.” Hebrews 6:15

Lord, help me to keep swinging and listen carefully.

Why I Do & Don’t Work Out

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Everyone knows the benefits of exercise. Doctors, health & nutrition experts, personal trainers, magazine articles, advertisers and celebrities have been telling us for years that if we want to be healthy, we have to work it. For me, that fact alone has done very little to persuade me to get up & move, or worse yet…step away from the chocolate. I realize that there are those among you who can honestly say that health is your primary motivator for exercise but when I look around; I can’t help but think that the majority of the folks at the gym are there because they want to look better. I used to be one of them.

I grew up as one of the scrawniest people alive. I was ridiculously skinny as a child & teenager. My first pregnancy, I weighed in at 5 months pregnant a whopping 88 pounds. I’m 5’3″ tall. The only concern I had with weight was that I had not acquired any. At some point, after a few kids and a desk job, I crossed the line into “normal”. All of the sudden, I was just an average, thin person instead of a commercial for starving children. I was in the middle of a disastrous marriage in which every flaw I had was pointed out & magnified. I became terrified that one day I would look in the mirror and it would verify what the voices screaming in my ear everyday were telling me…that I really wasn’t good enough. So I worked out. I became obsessed with every “trouble zone”. I worked out in the morning before starting my day and did crunches & leg work in front of the TV at night. I knew I wasn’t fat, but I wanted to be better, whatever that was.

After my divorce from my first husband, I got worse. I didn’t mean to & I don’t know if I even knew it at the time, but I stopped eating breakfast and lunch. I continued to exercise & added to that the responsibility of walking my ex’s dog, that weighed more than I did, three times a day. I dropped back down to below the 100 pound mark which I’d tried so hard to get up to as a teenager. It was lunacy.

When I started dating my husband, something in me shifted. He spent time at the gym, but his focus was totally different from what mine had ever been. He truly wanted to be healthy & fit for all of the right reasons, while I’d been striving to be good enough. He began to love me to life. I began to realize that I’d been enough all along and that no amount or lack of lunges would change that.

For a time, I stopped exercising altogether. I think I needed that time to come to terms with the fact that my body doesn’t define me. At times it’s been hard. I’ve gained 25 pounds in the last year. I probably needed at least 15 of them. Sure, I got aggravated when my size 0 pants quit fitting. I cried once or twice when I couldn’t fit into anything in my closet. Still, I feel completely satisfied with who I am and that is a victory for me so I refuse to feel defeated by a few extra pounds.

I think sometimes, we need to really grasp a concept before we can move on. I needed those pounds. Now I can work out for the right reasons. I woke up this morning and I didn’t want to crawl out of bed and start working up a sweat but I did it anyway. That for me is the greatest treasure of exercise. It’s in the ability to cause our flesh to submit to what we know it should be doing. Romans 7:14-15 talks about man’s struggle with sin. “14 For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am carnal, sold under sin. 15 For what I am doing, I do not understand. For what I will to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do.” I think the same concept applies here. We know that in order to be healthy & fit, we need to exercise, yet we don’t want to, so we don’t. For me, when I put my flesh into subjection & let it know that it doesn’t get a vote here, it is so fulfilling. I feel powerful & strong. I also know if I can make my body submit to exercise, I can make it submit to the Lord in other areas as well. I love that!

I work out for me. I work out for my kids, so that I can have the energy and stamina to play with them & do what I need to do to be a great mom. I work out for my husband so that I can be around for a long time and enjoy the wonderful life we have together. I work out for God (yes that sounds strange) but I know that my body is the temple of the Holy Spirit and I need to be a good steward and take care of it. I work out so that I have energy. Sure, I want to look good, I want my husband to have a beautiful wife to come home to. I want to feel good about myself, but I’ve learned that I am beautiful even if I have a little cellulite. I am perfectly designed just the way that I am and finally, I’m okay with that.

A Day Without Zombies

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I haven’t written much this week, which is unusual for me. I haven’t been able to. It’s not the ideas or inspirations haven’t come. It’s not that the words haven’t rolled through my brain singing “Crazy Train” while plummeting frantically to the caverns of lost thought below. It’s really been a joint effort between life and confusion, each one vying for my time, sucking at my mind with their imbibing tentacles. They long for me. They long to steal away the moments of vision and clarity as they once did. I’m not easily shaken. Not anymore.

This week I’ve realized how truly blessed I’ve become. That seems a strange thought in the midst of the situation that presented itself which I cannot share with you, but trust me, it was a doozy! I realized that I’ve come to a place where problems (real problems) are rare. That is such a miracle since I once lived a life in which problems (real mind blowing, “how much more can I possibly take” problems) were the norm.

Then you sink to uncomfortable numb. Feelings stop so survival can take over. Your heart beats, you breathe but laboriously in an effort to dim the panic. Breathe in, breathe out. Hide the heart another day until maybe it just disappears. Who needs emotion anyway? My place in life is among the zombies, walking dead with no heart (excerpt from poem called Zombie I wrote in 2009)

Now those days have passed and I am alive. No longer the zombie I wrote about in old poems. I am fully awake. I am free.

So this week, though life hit hard, I find myself thankful. I’m not thankful for the circumstances. I’m not thankful for the pain. But I’m thankful that I’ve entered the realm of the living. I’m thankful that I merely have a problem instead of my entire life being fraught with a myriad of problems. I’m thankful that I am confident in the God whose brought me through so much before and will bring my family through this situation with good in store. I’m thankful that no weapon formed against me or my family can ever prosper or succeed. My confidence is in a BIG God.

I’m grateful for the promise of tomorrow, a future and a hope. I’ve always believed and held tightly to that promise. But now, I’m thankful for the promise of TODAY…knowing that God is with me. The creator of the universe holds my hand and loves me deeply, passionately, and furiously. I am overwhelmed by the wonder of it. I am captured by the enormity of its effects. It leaves me breathless. 

Today I am fully alive. 

 

Sunset

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What do you even call the color where all the shades & hues of the spectrum collide and meet  in the middle of the sunset? It corresponds with the nature of soul and spirit itself, a mixed kaleidoscope of beauty; inspiring, inviting, connecting to the core of me. It slides and fades; brightens and deepens in mere seconds. It’s just like your voice, a constant of brilliance, a myriad of excellence, a conglomerate of majesty before me. It breathes in and out freedom and wonder, intimacy and radiance. You sing and I am new.

The waiting world holds its breath now eagerly anticipating that moment… that flash when you speak. Explosions of color emanate from your mouth. You breathe and we live. Then when the fire of your glory touches the earth, light transcends shadow. Meaning surpasses the coming night. The promise of morning looms heavy in the salty air.

Brilliance becomes you. Color and light grasp in vain to describe you. You are vast.

Speak Lord, I am listening.

Color meets Sea

Collision

Prayer of Peace

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I always thought of peace in the still, the calm of the water as it sits like glass; so pure you feel like it could hold you. Maybe there’s peace there. But as I sit here listening to the babbling of the brook, the trickling as the water flows gently over rock, white tops bouncing playfully as creek meets stream, I see a peace I’ve never known.

Maybe that’s just another way your peace passes our understanding. We expect peace in the still when noise is dimmed to silence, when movement fades to freeze. Yet greater peace is found in the chaos. It’s in the way the water goes whichever way you send it, the way the speed increases as the path narrows. Yet the whole time it’s guided by the boundaries you’ve set in place. The banks were built to hold it, the boulder sent to divert it, the tree limb sprouting aimlessly out of rock like a mystic, misplaced giant. 

There’s a comfort there in the noise, the splash, the motion. There’s an alcove ahead where the water rests, if only for a minute. It pools with the other drops around it lazily descending toward the next narrow place where it will flow further down the mountain. There’s a safety in knowing that you guide the mountain. You hold the stream. You bring the melody I sing to the sway of the trees you created. You’ve given us this moment. You’re romancing me.

As I leave this place and find myself back in the clamor and commotion of life, let this moment sustain me. Let me remember that you are holding me.

Without the noise, there’d be no music. Without the movement, we’d be stagnant. Without the narrow, we’d never be sharpened and grow.

You are my peace.

Jaimie Dandridge