On Failing Again December 28, 2008

I hate screwing up.  The only thing worse than screwing up is screwing up again and again.  I especially hate the idea that I’m doomed to repeat the past.  But there are certain paths I start down that lead to predictable destinations.  There are audio tracks in my head that play as if on repeat.  Take that first step, give in to that habit, adopt that attitude, make that ‘favorite’ remark… before I know it I’m back where I don’t want to go.  

Having recently fallen down again and doing what I can to try and stand back up, I thought I’d share some of the lessons I’m trying to teach myself.

1)  Stop it before it starts.  With habits and addictions there seems to be a point of no return where you really are powerless to stop what you’re doing.  Don’t let it get to that point.  Have a plan and involve someone else in your plan.  I’ve made an agreement to pick up the phone and call a friend before things get out of control.

2) Make it right.  If possible, do what you can do to make amends for what you did wrong. 

3)  Train your brain.  Changing your stripes is a very hard thing to do.  I’m trying to make new connections in my brain, paving new neural pathways — and that takes work.  It doesn’t happen easily or accidentally.

4) Celebrate your success.  Often I am harder on myself than anyone else.  Feeling down about my lack of progress can start a vicious cycle that leads to more failure.  Instead, thank God for each and every day of grace and victory.

5) Be kind to yourself.  Forgiving myself is the hardest thing I’ve ever tried to do.  To be honest I still don’t think I’m doing it right.  Forgiving yourself takes courage because it means you have to admit you’re not perfect.  It’s a chance to grow in humility.  It’s a chance to better understand God’s grace and it gives you more to be thankful for.

6) Forget the past.  You can’t undo what’s been done.  To keep from tripping up again – look where you’re going, not where you’ve been.

7) Don’t make excuses for what happened.  Making excuses is a way of avoiding the truth that I did wrong.  Making excuses is a way of making the wrong an easier thing to repeat.

8} Say you’re sorry and then let it go.  Repeatedly bringing up the wrong I did to the people I wronged is a trap that keeps me stuck in my sin.  It also hurts them.

9) Resist the urge to punish yourself.  Injustice cries out – even in our own hearts.  The penalty for our sins has been paid in full by the sacrifice of Christ.  Don’t insult the gift or cheapen His grace by superficial attempts at self-atonement.

10) Be humble.  True humility is seeing ourselves as we really are:  sinners who are cherished by God and forgiven.

 

Thanks for reading – I hope you all had a great Christmas and may God be gracious with all of us!

To those who are hurting this Christmas season…. December 17, 2008

I shared this on another forum, but thought I would share it here as well….although it is not specific to abuse, I thought perhaps it would speak to some hearts that are hurting…..

All too often it is at the holiday season WHEN THE PAST AND THE PRESENT COLLIDE. Whether through loss, divorce or estrangement we try to capture what we once had or we try and blot out bad memories. We try to ignore the empty chair and we try to ignore the pain and emptiness in our soul.

While most of the world seems to be addressing holiday greeting cards and planning holiday menus, those who have lost someone or a relationship are struggling with other concerns: How long does the grief last? Will the holidays always be this dreadful? What do we do with the empty place at the table? What is there to be thankful for this year?

It’s difficult to get that place in our hearts when we can admit that nothing seems quite right in our house or in our heart this season. We may ask ourselves if we can ever be happy again. Will the sights and sounds of the holiday season ever touch us again? Will there ever be LIGHT again?

Maybe we hold our breath and hope the holidays go quickly. We doubt we can endure too long. We sit in the dark, because we think we have forgotten the light.

We wish for some sign of hope in the season of icicles, some magical sign that will keep us going until the warmth of spring arrives. We turn on all the lights in an attempt to chase away the pain, grief or loneliness.

We have EXPECTATIONS of the season, for each other and for ourselves. All too often we have a mental picture of how things ought to be. And perhaps all too often we have to admit that those expectations are based more on fantasy than reality. Or perhaps we measure success and happiness on how close we come to those expectations.

Handling the holidays may not be so much a question of how to eliminate pain and grief from our lives, but how we can learn to live with the hurt and grief rather than be consumed by it.

Yes, celebration is the theme of this season, and real life, with all its blemishes and pains, is brushed away into the dark corners of silence.  However, if we chose to peek into the shadows, we will see the harsh realities that exist and are even magnified during the Christmas season.  All too often the desired “peace on Earth” is disrupted by intrusive circumstances such as difficult family members, the death of a loved one, financial strain, isolation, and loneliness.  

And if we ignore those visited by such unwelcome strangers is to fail in living out the very spirit of this sacred season. 

And so today I desire to be present with you and to listen to your hearts, and to pray with you. Although I haven’t all the answers I can go to the One who does, the One who offers hope and healing.

Today I will light a candle, and as I do I will send up a prayer…..lighting a candle is a way of remembering, a way of healing, and a way of bringing hope.

A solitary candle brings light to the darkness and serves as a reminder of the power of the human spirit.

The flickering flame ignites something deep inside us that connects us to each other. As Erasmus noted; if we give light, and share light we can watch the darkness disappear.

Lighting a candle begins by taking a moment to slow down, to focus on our intention and decide on the reason we are lighting our candle.

I invite you to light one with me, either for yourself or for those who are struggling this Christmas season…. light a candle to remember a loved one, a past relationship, or whatever other significant loss or losses that you or someone may currently be experiencing.

 There is a soothing, healing effect in lighting a candle. A solitary candle brings light in the darkness; it is also a symbol of the human spirit.

The hope is that when we light a candle, it’s a reminder that Christ is alive and is the light of the world. And as we sing the Christmas carols it’s a reminder that it’s the most wonderful time of the year, not because we have to be cheery and merry, but because we don’t. God still comes to be with us. It’s OK to acknowledge loss and sadness. That’s why Jesus came – for the lonely. He came to minister to people who are hurting.

I am reminded of the words to a song by Kathy Troccoli-Go Light Your Candle;

We are a family, who hearts are blazing
So let’s raise our candles light up the sky
Praying to our Father, in the name of Jesus,
Make us a beacon in darkest time

Death is not Strange December 17, 2008

I hope you love this poem by Jason Leftwich as much as I did. 

 

Death is not strange.

Strange is life,

That flesh can think,

And body believe.

 

That dust can sing:

That a clod of earth

Can for one’s lifetime

House God.

 

That dead things live 

When touched by God’s breath,

Is the miracle, 

Not death.

Unconquered December 13, 2008

What do you think about this poem, Invictus, by William Ernest Henley?

OUT of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Most people would call it a very un-Christian poem.  On face value, I would have to agree.  After all, isn’t Christianity about submitting our lives and will to God?  Henley here is anything but submissive.  Yet somehow, I LOVE this poem.  

This poem speaks to me of freedom and of courage.  I think free will, freedom, must be God’s greatest and most painful gift.  I wonder if the stars in the heavens gasped a collective breath when God had the mettle to place the gift of freedom in the hands of corruptible human beings.  Freedom admits the possibility of the billions of ways fellow humans violate one another and yet, He valued us enough to place it in our hands.  How painful it must be for Him, as loving Father, to watch what we’ve done with it, even knowing that in the end most of us would blame him for the consequences of the choices that we’ve made.  How great a gift!  How costly!

And then there’s courage.  I’ve begun to think that courage is the most important thing.  Yes, love… love is the most valuable thing in the universe.  But what is love without courage?  Without courage love wilts and dies before it blooms.  Courage births and sustains love.  It testifies that God exists and that divinity is native to the human heart.  And courage partnered with love is an unconquerable combination.  It is the formula for faith.  Courage with love allows a single person to resist the pressure of a crowd; a peasant to stand against a king; a child to say ‘no’.

You survived.  You chose to live, bloody but unbowed.  You are unconquered.

 

A Precious Lamb December 8, 2008

When I first admitted to myself, to God, and to another human being that I had been sexually abused, the world screeched to a jarring halt.   Wave after wave after wave of emotional pain washed over me.  I lost track of the painful days, of how much time had passed.  I stopped estimating how many more painful waves were waiting ahead of me, surrendering to the distinct possibility that the end would never come.  From the outside, life went eerily on.  But inside it was like I was watching an old black and white TV while someone unknown to me was screwing with the vertical and horizontal knobs.

Then one day I read Isaiah chapter 40 and a single phrase lit up in my heart like a distant lighthouse in a foggy night.  He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart.  I was that lamb, nestled in my true Father’s arms, my head resting contentedly on His chest.  At that moment I believed I was going to make it.

The same week a friend taught me a simple song that I still can’t sing through without choking up:

day by day

you reveal your love to me

cradled in your arms

I am

a precious lamb

a diamond in your eyes

The word picture painted by that song is always with me.  A love letter from God, tattooed on my Spirit.  And while I know that I may never fully understand the love of God, never grasp it’s width or measure off the height of it, I know that I Believe.  I believe that He is Good; that He Loves me nobly and unselfishly with no secret agenda; that when I can’t keep up with His long strong strides He will scoop me up again and whisper to me to rest in the safety of His warm embrace.  And that knowledge is enough for today.

The Little Girl Inside December 3, 2008

I can make myself forget but she always remembers.  

I can deny what I know but she won’t be silenced.  

I can ignore the truth but she won’t look away.  

I can control her but she refuses to bow.  

I can lie but she keeps her integrity.  

I can hide in fear but she stands courageously.  

I can forgive but she remains angry.

I can compromise but she cries out for justice.