A Broken Ankle and a Dark Pit.

I looked at my phone and saw a message come in through my family’s group chat. It was from my older sister. She had been in a position where her kiddos could reach her and one of them landed on her ankle. Now, if you don’t know the back story you’d probably be confused and ask what the problem is.

Last summer, my sister, who was eight months pregnant went to a church event. She was chatting with some other moms when one of her kids asked her to tie their shoes. She bent down, tied it and trying to stand back up, she lost her balance and fell backwards on her ankle. It broke.

Within a short period of time, the pastor’s wife had taken the rest of the kids home, a couple was taking her to the hospital and her husband was on his way to meet her.

She had to have surgery on her ankle and a metal plate was implanted for stability. A few weeks later, she gave birth (in a cast no less) to a sweet little boy.

You may be wondering, why am I going on about my sister’s ankle? Because, to me, it’s a powerful picture.

You see the same summer, I may not have broken my ankle, but I was deeply wounded. And this summer, my family suffered a very deep wound. So, when my sister said, “One of my Little’s fell on my ankle” we understood how that would hurt. But had you not known my sister endured a broken ankle, and that there is a piece of metal in her body; her doubling over in pain wouldn’t make sense.

I feel like the longer we live and the trauma we face, life leaves us with metal in our heart. From the outside, just like my sister’s ankle, she looks fine. She doesn’t walk with a limp. But when someone hits it unexpectedly, it sends sheering pain up her leg.

A few days ago, I saw a picture of my Dad. To be honest, I can barely look at pictures. It hurts too much. As more time goes by, I miss him more. I saw the picture and tears brimmed my eyelids- just waiting to spill over. It reminded me of my sister’s ankle, except the sheering pain was in my heart.

Life knocks us over sometimes. We get back up and we may seem like we are fine. We may not be walking with a limp, but we know there is metal in there and any given day, we could be doubled over in excruciating pain.

My family and I know any given rain storm could end with one of us in tears. It hurts. Life without my Dad hurts. Yes, we may look okay. And, we may act okay. We may seem like we may be “handling it well”, but what you don’t see is the times we are doubled over… Crying ourselves to sleep just like any very painful physical injury.
I wonder how many people are walking around seemingly “normal” but have pieces of metal in their hearts. Part of me is tempted to just sit on a bench in public somewhere and see who might come along to share their story of when a piece of metal entered their heart.

I don’t really have a spiritual application to this… Maybe there will be a part two to this blog and maybe not… Life hurts and sometimes it feels like we are in a dark pit. A few weeks ago I came across a verse that struck me.

Psalm 88:6, “You have put me in the lowest pit, in the darkest depths.”

It doesn’t say you fell in a pit, or satan put you in a pit. He’s talking about God. It doesn’t even say, “God allowed me to be put in a pit” No, it says, “You have put me in (not just a pit) THE LOWEST PIT”

Later on in this Psalm in verse 18 it says, “darkness is my closest friend”

I don’t understand why God sometimes places us where darkness becomes our closest friend. I don’t like the thought of that. I don’t like being in this pit I am in right now. Lately, things have just been hard. I’m not writing to get sympathy. I really don’t want it. I’m just writing because seeing this picture helped me and I thought it might help someone else…

Another verse that has been coming to mind too is Jeremiah 29:11… It’s says, “I know that plans I have for you. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. To give you hope and a future”

Lately, very little has gone “right” nothing seems to be “prospering” or even “hopeful”. However, as I was thinking about this, I realized what this verse doesn’t say…

1) YOU have the plans… No, God has the plans. If I had the plans, I’d have something lined up by now.

2) That God will prosper your career, or your health, or your family. No, He says He will prosper you. And isn’t it true we often grow, learn and prosper during adversity? I mean, if Jesus learned obedience through the things he suffered (Heb 5:7-8), what makes me think I am exempt from diffilcut times?

So, I still don’t know why so much brokenness has accrued the past two years and, quite frankly, I may never know… But I’ve got to hold on to the fact that there is a purpose. There is a bigger reason than I can see. And that even if I don’t know the plans and the purpose, God does. Is knowing the Plan holder and the purpose holder enough for me? Is it enough for you? I think this is something we each need to wrestle through in or own time.

Song of the Week: I Don’t Have the Answers by We Are Messengers 

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Fighting Fear: My Greatest Fear

Introduction: 
For the month of June, I decided to launch a series called Fighting Fear. Each week you will hear a testimony from one of my friends. Today, you will hear from Paula Denny. I have known Paula as long as I can remember. We were both Pastor’s kids. I believe I was Paula’s Awana Leader when she was a Spark. We didn’t talk much as we got older. However, our friendship has changed drastically over the past year. Paula and her husband have walked through some painful experiences. I never knew how painful experiences can morph two people who would not necessarily be close friends into dear sisters. We have had some very real and honest talks about each other, ministry, and life. It is truly a privilege to have Paula share today!

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“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.” 2 Corinthians 4:7

I cannot think of the exact moment or ways in which I recognized and faced my greatest fear, I do know that the process began in the summer of 2014.  I was working for a mission camp, and during that time, I learned so much about myself and faced many fears, however, one stands out.

My greatest fear was allowing the Lord to expose himself through my flaws.  The verse above was presented to me by a camp leader and it hit my soul like a ton of bricks.  We are simply clay pots, we as Christians, are plain vessels, filled with something so much greater than ourselves, but in order for what’s on the inside to be exposed, it must have a passageway. I already knew that the Lord wanted to expose himself through me, and honestly, I believed that he already was.  I never understood the level of vulnerability that was necessary in order for him to be truly seen from within me.

I was afraid to let the Lord shined through my cracked pot because my cracks were my imperfections–Imperfections that we all have.  Every crack in my pot represented sin, sorrow, shame, fear, or anything imperfect that had been or was currently a part of me.  With each strike of imperfection, came a crack to my clay pot.  The flaws that covered who I am show: my shortcomings, my failures, my sorrow, and my shame.  I spent so much time trying to distract from my flaws, why would I want to bring attention to them?  I spent so much time and effort shielding my cracks, because I did not want others to know of their existence, much less put them on display.

This verse kept coming up throughout the course of the summer and it continued to burden my heart on a daily basis.  I was afraid, that in showing my blemishes, I would distract from the beauty of God within me.  I was afraid that my cracks and scratches would be far too ugly for others to see. I was afraid to surrender my current and past shame and sorrow to the Lord allowing him to do whatever he wanted with them.  I wanted my pot to look put together, I put so much effort into making my pot look as though it had no cracks.  In doing this, I was hindering myself from being used by God, because in our weaknesses, he glorifies himself in a mighty way, if we will only share with him our greatest shames and most sorrowful failures, he will use them and take something so disgraceful in our eyes to be transformed into something adorned with beauty and grace.

Little by little, I began to share my deepest failures, the ugliest parts of my inmost being.  I began to recognize their existence and shared them with the Lord, though he already knew they were there. I became more vulnerable with fellow believers. Allowing myself, and everyone around me to see my clay pot for what it truly was. All of my flaws were no longer hidden, I was free from the burden of hopelessly covering and hiding my cracks without an end in sight.

In finally releasing this fear to the Lord, something beautiful happened.  The Father took all of my cracks and scratches.  He took the sin, sorrow, hurt, and shame, that I had been hiding and he used it.  He used it to show himself through my shortcomings.  He displayed his beauty in areas and situations in my life that were damaged.  He showed himself to others through the cracks in my pot.  He brought me comfort and healing through the holy treasure of his grace.  He made my soul feel refreshed and beautiful among his eyes.

Within the cracks of my clay pot, his light shined, so that he was seen.  The attention was brought to him, not to my shortcomings, as I had feared it would.  No one was focused on my cracks, but rather, they were made witness to the glory of God that was shining through the broken pieces of my simple clay pot.  In surrendering this deep fear of my soul, I experienced joy and relief, so precious to my inmost being.

Remember: There is beauty in broken and flawed vessels. There is beauty because Christ shines through. When we are “whole” no one sees the Light. When we share our brokenness it gives other hope to continue on.

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”

I cannot think of the exact moment or ways in which I recognized and faced my greatest fear, I do know that the process began in the summer of 2014.  I was working for a mission camp, and during that time, I learned so much about myself and faced many fears, however, one stands out.

My greatest fear was allowing the Lord to expose himself through my flaws.  The verse above was presented to me by a camp leader and it hit my soul like a ton of bricks.  We are simply clay pots, we as Christians, are plain vessels, filled with something so much greater than ourselves, but in order for what’s on the inside to be exposed, it must have a passageway. I already knew that the Lord wanted to expose himself through me, and honestly, I believed that he already was.  I never understood the level of vulnerability that was necessary in order for him to be truly seen from within me.

I was afraid to let the Lord shined through my cracked pot because my cracks were my imperfections–Imperfections that we all have.  Every crack in my pot represented sin, sorrow, shame, fear, or anything imperfect that had been or was currently a part of me.  With each strike of imperfection, came a crack to my clay pot.  The flaws that covered who I am, show my shortcomings, my failures, my sorrow, and my shame.  I spent so much time trying to distract from my flaws, why would I want to bring attention to them?  I spent so much time and effort shielding my cracks, because I did not want others to know of their existence, much less put them on display.

This verse kept coming up throughout the course of the summer and it continued to burden my heart on a daily basis.  I was afraid, that in showing my blemishes, I would distract from the beauty of God within me.  I was afraid that my cracks and scratches would be far too ugly for others to see. I was afraid to surrender my current and past shame and sorrow to the Lord allowing him to do whatever he wanted with them.  I wanted my pot to look put together, I put so much effort into making my pot look as though it had no cracks.  In doing this, I was hindering myself from being used by God, because in our weaknesses, he glorifies himself in a mighty way, if we will only share with him our greatest shames and most sorrowful failures, he will use them and take something so disgraceful in our eyes to be transformed into something adorned with beauty and grace.

Little by little, I began to share my deepest failures, the ugliest parts of my inmost being.  I began to recognize their existence and shared them with the Lord, though he already knew they were there. I became more vulnerable with fellow believers. Allowing myself, and everyone around me to see my clay pot for what it truly was. All of my flaws were no longer hidden, I was free from the burden of hopelessly covering and hiding my cracks without an end in sight.

In finally releasing this fear to the Lord, something beautiful happened.  The Father took all of my cracks and scratches.  He took the sin, sorrow, hurt, and shame, that I had been hiding and he used it.  He used it to show himself through my shortcomings.  He displayed his beauty in areas and situations in my life that were damaged.  He showed himself to others through the cracks in my pot.  He brought me comfort and healing through the holy treasure of his grace.  He made my soul feel refreshed and beautiful among his eyes.

Within the cracks of my clay pot, his light shined, so that he was seen.  The attention was brought to him, not to my shortcomings, as I had feared it would.  No one was focused on my cracks, but rather, they were made witness to the glory of God that was shining through the broken pieces of my simple clay pot.  In surrendering this deep fear of my soul, I experienced joy and relief, so precious to my inmost being.

Remember: There is beauty in broken and flawed vessels. There is beauty because Christ shines through. When we are “whole” no one sees the Light. When we share our brokenness it gives other hope to continue on.

Song of the Week: No Longer a Slave to Fear,
by Jonathan David & Melissa Helser

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The Beckoning for Reckoning

 

Thinking about it was driving me mad. The question of “why” haunted me like the Black Plague. “What did I do?”, “How could this happen?” The questions were numerous and the answers were nil.

 

I couldn’t take it anymore. I told myself that instead of asking questions, I need to think of the situation as dead. I couldn’t raise this relationship from the grave. It was out of my hands. I had done what I knew to do, but I could not fix it. For my own sanity, I viewed everything about that season of my life as dead.

 

I know that sounds morbid, but when someone is dead, you don’t try to pick that person out of their coffin. Their life is done (unless God wanted to work a miracle). The same was true for me. I had tasted not a physical death, but a death nonetheless. There was only silence, unanswered questions, and deep grief.

 

Yesterday in church, as we sang “Resurrecting” by Elevation Worship. I thought of many relationships I know of that have experienced a severing. A severing between a wife and a husband. A severing between a parent and a child, and a severing between close friends.

 

These severings have resulted in a death. The death of a marriage, the death of a unified family, the death of a friendship.

 

As I continued to sing, I got choked up. Broken relationships are not something you get over, but you can get through it. You learn to live without “them”. It’s like a heavy spot in your heart. You don’t always think about it, but when you do, it brings tears to your eyes.

 

Then I thought about how God feels. He knows that hurt too well. When Adam and Eve sinned that broke their perfect relationship with God. They experienced a severing in their relationship with God. That sweet fellowship, sweet union shattered into a million pieces. The repair was more than Adam and Eve could fix in their finite bodies and wisdom. But God, in order to reconcile His children back into fellowship, severed His perfect relationship with the Son. So, the morning Jesus stepped out of that grave, death was no more. He won. One severing brought death, The second severing brought life.

 

God’s heart is for reconciliation.

 

This side of eternity encompasses death and brokenness, but I never have to be without hope. If reconciliation does not come in my lifetime, I can cling to the fact it will in the next. God sent Jesus to reconcile me to the Father. I know that nothing is too hard for him. He can reconcile my broken relationships and those broken relationships of my dear friends. If not now, then later.

 

  • “For if while we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son, much more, now that we are reconciled, shall we be saved by his life.” Romans 5:10

 

  • “For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross. And you, who once were alienated and hostile in mind, doing evil deeds, he has now reconciled in his body of flesh by his death, in order to present you holy and blameless and above reproach before him.” Colossians 1:19-22

 

  • “All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled us to himself and gave us the ministry of reconciliation; that is, in Christ God was reconciling the world to himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation.” 2 Corinthians 5:18-19

 

… and entrusting to us the message of reconciliation…

The Faces I Cannot Forget

***This is dedicated to the Iraqi family I met in Jordan almost a year ago, and to all the refugees scattered all over the world…

I attempted to write a poem about your suffering … 

Then I realized….

I don’t know what it’s like…

I don’t know the fear you lived every time you heard the whistle of a missile. 

I don’t know the panic you endured when you’d hear the destruction of another home… praying it wasn’t someone you knew…. 

I don’t know how many tears you cried… Or how many you couldn’t anymore after you lost loved one after loved one, friend after friend. 

I don’t know how many unseen wounds you carry around on a daily basis… 

I don’t know how if feels to not only lose friends and loved ones, but also your country….

I don’t know how it feels to lose a livelihood, freedom and choice…

I don’t know how it feels to be at the mercy of another people group – another country…

I don’t know how it feel to be stripped away from the language you and your family have spoken for generations, and now having to learn a new one…. 

I’m sorry I have not understood … I cannot imagine your pain… I don’t know what it’s like to suffer like you have, but I know one who did… 

I pray that in the midst of your pain… in the midst of this dark hour… you would know you’re not alone… The one who made you… The one who fashioned your eyes, hands, feet and body…. loves you. 

And until I meet you, you are in my heart… please don’t give up… you have a story the world needs to hear… the lessons of traveling through this dark valley needs to be taught…. 

I’m so sorry for your loss. Thank you for your courage…