I turn my back from the sun, and slap the snooze…again. Thoughts form, “just get up and move.” Limbs proceed to upright position; feet dangle a few inches from the floor. “So close, but yet…forget it.” My head drops back against the pillow, down feathers envelope and cradle me. I am incapable to motivate myself for another day. Instead my blanket of dull and dreary, I find safe and most content.
Life
When Patience isn’t Enough!
StandardMusic played softly, bible in hand, and I settled into the comfy spot by the big bay window. Cocoa on my left, steam swirled and curled above it. A rise and fall of my chest, exhale of air and I gazed at the sun rays that bounced color and cast shadows over the mountain. Peace had fallen, (Insert record scratch) until the intrusive ring of my cell phone. One glance at the caller ID and my heart immediately dropped. Teeth clinched and eyes closed, I answered as I attempted to disguise, my disdain for the interruption. I knew better than to be optimistic for a quiet moment.
Beauty in the Broken!
StandardAs they wait for the scene to begin, the actors pace and move about to stay warm. Camera crew and I discuss possible angles to shoot from in order to achieve the most cinema graphic shot possible. Options include graffiti crowded walls, a second floor balcony door with no balcony, and cracked mortar all around.
This underutilized alley with worn out buildings, broken bricks and cracked sidewalks proved to be the perfect background for our homeless teen story. For the most part, people passed by without a glance or pause to consider our purpose there. Except for one.
The Art of Vulnerablility!
Standard“How are you doing?” my dear friend asked while passing by after church ended. “Good,” I quickly replied assuming it was a polite hello rather than a genuine request. But, as my feet continued on, our eyes locked and caused both of us to pivot around face to face. “No, really, HOW are you doing?”
Startled by the sincerity of the moment, I quickly became aware of my increasing heart beat that moments ago was pumping blood at an inconspicuous rate. In that brief moment, that innocent question turned intrusive and frightening for I knew the answer but doubted whether it would be received well.
The Backlash of being Wonder Woman!
StandardAs I am laying on the couch, my foot elevated above my heart, the doorbell rings. Once again I have to bite off and chew up my worldly pride (because it is way to big to just swallow whole). Another dear friend enters with another delicious meal prepared for my family due to the fact that my recent foot surgery has limited my abilities to thoroughly do so.
As deeply grateful as I am for every gal that prepared meals for the first 2 weeks after surgery, I am equally embarrassed and distraught that I can’t do it on my own. Ridiculous, I know. If anyone of them were in my position, I would completely do the same thing and help in anyway possible and not once would I ever think they were weak of character. However sick it may appear, I loathe depending on others. I want to be able to do it ALL myself. After all, even Jesus stated, 35 “It is more blessed to give than to receive. ” Unfortunately my perception of how to balance giving to receiving has been way off.
Alone in a crowded room.
StandardHesitantly, he walks into the room full of youthful activity; balls bouncing, teen girls giggling, and the stench of sweaty boys fills the air. Loud music competes for the attention of all.
Glancing to the left he sees a huddle of teens. Panning the room, he sees established groups of kids going back and forth between their chosen activity and staring at their phone and intensely replying to a text, Facebook post, Instagram picture or whatever has drawn their attention away from the flesh and blood that stands before them.
Unnoticed by all, he bravely makes his way around the room, looking for an opportunity to “break into” the conversation or action. But his shyness and awkwardness hold him back. Courage fades and a sudden urge appears to find an excuse, any excuse to get out. The battle within himself rages and consumes his focus.
Spread the burden, share the pain!
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Startled by the ring tone of dogs barking, signaling a text message on my phone, I quickly sat up from a deep sleep. After trying to rub away the blurriness of my weary eyes, I managed to finally focus on the late night hour. Immediately I knew something was wrong. I read the text which confirmed my gut reaction. A dear friend was asking for prayer for her sick and physically frail husband.
I wasn’t surprised by the message of her text, nor was I inconvenienced by the late hour at which the request came. After all, missing an hour of sleep to pray was effortless compared to the countless hours they had spent battling at hospitals or treatment centers. This “spiritual giant” of a man has been an integral part of my own spiritual development, so of course I would respond to the request with great awareness and tearful pleas to heal him. As I was praying, asking for the same healing, the same miraculous intervention as I had many times before, it hit me…
Who’s on your picture ID?
StandardWaiting in line at the grocery store the other day, bored by the tabloids on my left and striving hard to avoid the sweet candy temptations on my right I focused my attention on the person in front of me checking out. I watched as the cashier methodically scanned and bagged each item and then stated the amount due. She then does something that you rarely see anymore. She asked the person who had just finished swiping their credit card for a picture ID. Amazed at the fact that she even asked, I was even more astonished that she actually compared the name against the credit card. More amazing still I watched as she looked at the photo on the ID, looked back at the customer, back at the ID again and one more time glared at the customer before questioning “you changed your hair color?”
Nervously, as if being interrogated, the customer laughed nodding her head yes, realizing the cashier was more than serious. She wanted to make sure that the ID this woman gave was actually her own. She wanted the picture to confirm the customers identity.
As I was driving home, my imagination drifted back to that scene and I couldn’t figure out why that encounter struck me so hard. Suddenly, as God often does, a mental brick of thought fell on my head and He began connecting the dots of this illustration and what He wanted me to gain from it.
In a quiet thought in my head I heard the question, “who/what is the picture of on your ID, Teresa?” I physically felt my heart drop with a little bit of shame, my shoulder fell and reluctantly, out of my mouth came the answer – “not you, Jesus.”
As a Christ follower, I should be reflecting His image at all times, not only in what I do and how I do it but most importantly in why I do it and what I gain from it.
Recently, I stepped down from Creative Arts Director at my church after 10 years of leading the ministry. All in all, I had spent 16+ years serving, creating, ministering and impacting people for Jesus. Though it had it’s challenges, I could confidently say that I was doing something valuable and worth while with my life and the gifts I had been given. Unfortunately that is where my identity and security was placed. My mood would rise or fall with the quality of production or feedback that was given.
Now that I am no longer employed or being productive in a measurable way by others view, I find myself feeling lost and devalued. Too much of my identity, who I am, has been wrapped up in my job and what I could accomplish. If you were to look at my Spiritual/Emotional ID, it would have had a picture of my church or my team that I led. Other times in my life it would have been my kids cute faces on my ID because I found my value and identity in who they were and how good of a mom I could
Society has taught us that our value and worth are measurable by the possessions we own, the number of rungs on the ladder that we climb and how many people applaud us in the process. Can you relate? Do you feel better about yourself when you have gotten a raise, aced a test, lost weight, OR even how many likes or comments you get on a Facebook status? Come on, we’ve all done it. We’ve all gotten pumped up or depleted based on responses to our status updates or tweets. Why, because we want to be accepted and feel valuable. The more “likes” we get, the more confident we are. The more followers of our Tweets, the more valuable we feel. We want to be contributors who get noticed for our achievements and talents. But, too often, our identity gets caught up in needing those accomplishments or great moments in order to experience the feeling of being valued and we get caught in a cycle of finding our identity in those things.
With no job, no income and no product being put out I find myself feeling like my identity is a simple nobody. But that is the farthest thing from the truth. The truth is whether I am busy or still, productive or just resting, up or down, rich or poor or even if I never do another productive thing in my life on earth, I am “made in the image of Christ” and the only ID picture I should have is one that reflects His image. Nothing I do or don’t do will make Him love me any more or any less. Nothing…nothing! Only He can bring purpose, value and meaning to my life. I can let go of the need to be better, the need to be productive and the need to be valuable in the eyes of others and let Him do the work instead. When people ask for my ID, they won’t see a director, a mom, a wife or even an aging 40 year old woman. They will see the image of Christ, at least that is what I long for.
Back to the question “who/what is the picture of on your ID, Teresa?” that I believe came from God. My picture has changed from time to time, but from this point on, I will choose to be confident in being loved and valued by the one True God and let His Image be what others see, not my gifts or what I can do. It is merely my job to “seek first the Kingdom of God,” build my relationship with Him and let Him do the rest. John 15:5 states, “I am the vine; you are the branches. Those who remain in me; and I in them, will produce much fruit. For apart from me you can do nothing.”
But even as I seek Him, I was reminded from a dear friend, that I need to guard my heart and check my motives. My friend, Susan Cowger so wisely wrote, “I find it interesting that some try to find relationship with God to GET the changes and GET him to speak through them (ahhh to become wise). Desiring relationship with God then becomes a means to an end. We are only told to seek God. The result of finding relationship is really not that much of our concern. We are bond servants, here to do his will. Our question each day should be: What is your bidding today Lord? And then carry it out. Seems better to keep moving ahead rather than looking in the mirror to see if the relationship thing is looking good on me. There is a terrible temptation to take credit for what God is doing.”
May I never boast in my relationship with Him so that my prideful spirit hides the Face of God on my ID.
Drop the Fear, Raise the Risk, Increase the faith!
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Without risk, without stepping into the unknown, there is no need for faith. Being comfortable allows dependence on ourselves, but putting aside our fear, taking a leap into the passionate side of our heart, brings us to utter dependence on Christ Jesus “the author and finisher of our faith.” I was being called to drop my fear of the known and risk the “what ifs” to find more of God. I was being called to live my faith like a verb, not like a noun.
“Empty” Prayers Fall Heavy on God’s heart.
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Today, once again, I found myself crumbling on my face before God. Not uncommon given the last couple years of our family life have been wrecked and emotionally turned upside down. All to familiar to me is this place of hopelessness and unanswered questions. A place of heart wrenching turmoil over the life of one of my dear children. Breath stopping anguish and pain settle in and so I do what I know I am suppose to. I pray. At least I try. But the more my mind searches for words, the more I realize they aren’t there. At least nothing new. No new clichés` or verses come to mind. But my prayers fade to thoughts, accusations maybe, or even fear that my prayers are nothing more than empty reciting of meaningless words. Continue reading
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