hands that hide my shame

It started as a poem, continued as a song, ended as a prayer, and went back and forth again. Sometimes words fail to do feelings justice, but this is just a hint of the feelings of my ever restless heart.

I find myself falling into,
the hands that hide my shame,
screaming all the reasons,
I’ve fallen from your name.
You held me close to your heart,
while I tore my life apart,
I crushed your hopes and dreams,
pieces of perfection, nothing was as it seemed.
And How far can I run tonight?
That you won’t follow me?
How deep can this darkness be?
That you won’t catch me in your arms
and draw me to your chest.
Breathe in the fragrance,
at your breast.
And How far can I be from you?
that you wouldn’t fight one thousand demons,
or make foolish all my reasons,
that I avoid your name.
How far will you go to beat ,
off of my back and break every stronghold,
that keeps me from you?
Let me fall into your love
let me fall into your grace
remember once again the love we had
before I turned from your beautiful face
peruse me once again
let me feel your warm embrace
I long for Your touch,
Father, renew me once again.

 

Old Rag Mountian-06/09

psalm of my heart

Why is it that we so often lose our way? If it is that we walk towards the beat of the heart of the one we love then why is it that our hearts so often wonder off course and become distracted by the beats of other lovers? Why do we wonder searching for false loves to comfort us when we know that the only thing that will remedy the depth of need we create within ourselves by starving Christ away is Christ himself? Why is it that I find myself so often in this romantic affair pattern floating from true husband to false in 2.5 seconds distractions floating in my mind as I try and wrap my brain around His grace, love, justice and mercy? Why is it so easy for me to forget all that He brought me through…all that He brought me out of…all that He stood beside me watching, crying with me when I refused to let the tears fall for fear that I would break? Why is it that I allow my anger and sin to hold me captive and not break down the walls I build inside of my heart the moment I feel the pain grab onto me? I really am like a turtle. I withdraw into the shell where I am protected. Would you Lord please rip off the shell of my comfort and invade my space. Make me uncomfortable, allow me to feel the shame of unfaithfulness and run back to you. You know me, You formed me, You know my needs and my desires. Be Lord over them. You have been so faithful and so good all my life. I don’t deserve You. I don’t deserve Your blessings. Grateful, grateful is my cry to You. Thankful, thankful is what I am for You.

blue plastic chairs and jumpsuits

What will it take for the church and in society to realize that the men and woman in our state and federal prisons are more than just a number, they are a name. Inmates are often stripped of identity and of humanity when they enter our correctional institutions and they often emerge worse than when they entered. What’s devastating is that they believe that they are forgotten and that no one cares about them. Why do they believe that they are forgotten you may ask? Because they ARE forgotten way too many times. We do not care for them like we should. Why do we walk by them and not take the chance to show them the love of Jesus Christ and His forgiveness and grace?

Should Jesus care about the murderer? Should He care about the rapist? Which does Jesus love more-the raped or the rapist? Which does he love more? The murdered or the murderer? These are all great questions to evaluate, but real questions prod us to action. If Jesus loves the murder and rapist like we know that He does why do we refuse to go and love them too? Jesus came to minister to the people who made mistakes, the people who were harlots, the people who were prostitutes and the inmate charged with sexually abusing a five year old girl. Does our coming to prison support their action-NO! We do not support the behaviors that many of the, but we love them because they were created in the image of God too.

It says that every sin in the Bible is equal in the eyes of God. In that case I should be serving 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 (etc.) life sentences for the sin I’ve accumulated in my life and I should be on death row but Jesus took my place. It’s  not good to dwell on sin but I’ve recently been reminded of where I was by my sin being brought back to my eyes…and when I think of what God has brought me from and let’s say I am more amazed by His grace and mercy each and every day and sometimes I don’t even have words to speak when I think of the chains that He broke and how He freed me from the prison that I was in when He gave His son. How can you remain cold hearted to the needs of your brother when you claim to have your life changed?

If you’ve never worshiped along an inmate then you don’t know true worship. There’s nothing like a cell to make you realize your need and desperation for God. I wrote this poem for my friends at Philadelphia House of Corrections, and Bertie Correctional Institution. Singing “Nothing but the Blood” with you is an experience I will never forget. “What can wash away my sin? nothing but the blood of Jesus. What can make me whole again? Nothing but the blood of Jesus.” I refuse to forget you. Hebrews 13:3.

“Nothing but the Blood”
What can wash away my sin?
The sin that holds me in these chains,
I’ve finally found my freedom,
embraced in the arms of change.
I wait in this never-ending wilderness,
serving every minute due of my time.
Remind me once again of your faithfulness,
as I’m forced to take it back and rewind.
Locks on every door, wire on the fences,
heart is unsure, left with so many glances,
hard plastic chair assaulting my senses,
I hang my head knowing I deserve my sentence.
Chains binding my body but not my spirit,
I am enclosed like an animal-pacing my cell.
Regret is my crime but I refuse to fear it,
I carry with me my story to tell.
Will you look me in the eye,
Will you take the time to really see me,
must you wait until I die,
to see what is within me?
My eyes are those of your brother’s,
Your hands are those of Jesus’s
my sorrow is that of your mother’s,
I watch you as you slowly walk away,
through the gates and doors,
and onto your day.
Remember me,
do not forget my name.
Choose to see me,
never be the same.

Operating tables

I’m still alive.

but I feel as though I have been on the operating table of the Lord.

You know the times in your life where you find yourself removed from most of your best friends…your family…and the people that you turn to help you though? You find yourself totally isolated-and on the operating table of the Lord.

He stands before you, scapulae in hand and you shutter knowing what is coming. You know He is healing you but in order to do that He has to rearrange stuff, pull out all these cancerous growths that are killing you and mend all of the broken parts that you’ve tried to fix yourself but with no avail.

One day I will wake up out of this anesthesia and see that He has restored me. One day I will wake to find beauty from this. Infact, I think He gives us little glimpses of what it will be like in order to strengthen us.

Like my best friend Ash said, surgeries can be scary, but this one is healing. There’s nowhere I’d rather be then on the operating table of the Lord. It’s not safe, but it’s what I must do to be saved.

So….here I am.

So….. here I am Lord,
a collision of panicked thoughts.
Swirling, consuming, overwhelming.
I feel like an elephant is on my chest,
My lungs fail to inflate.
I. can’t. breathe.

So…here I am Lord.
I’m fighting internally.
In a boxing ring,
of my flesh and spirit.
Fists up, but I’m believing,
I. can’t. win.

So…here I am Lord.
It’s just me.
I’m worried.
it’s about tomorrow again.
Insecure. Afraid. Knowing I’ve failed before.
I. can’t. stand. It.

So…here I am Lord.
I keep looking at the picture.
Wondering why….again.
I thought I was over this.
Why now?
I. can’t. get. Over. It.

So….here I am Lord.
the timing all seems all off
are you sure this is your plan?
it just seems so crazy
here, there, back again.
I. can’t. keep. Moving.

So….here I am Lord.
my future in front of me
my past behind
why do I doubt you?
why do I hide?
I. can’t. keep. This. Up.

So…here I am Lord.
I’ve given up.
and it’s the best place to be.
Surrounded by the comfort,
of eternity.
I. am. Dying.

So here I am Lord,
Dying to me.
and my panic.
the belief I will fail.
fear of the future.
regret of the past.
my crazy schedule.
and everything
that keeps me from you.

Found

A thousand different choices, one path to take,
1,000 different glances, one heart of mine to break.
Hesitations- I’m finding this harder than before,
Destinations-which one will lead to a cure?
So many emotions bottled up inside,
So many tears I choose to leave uncried.
Could the past be different? Could there be another way?
Why am I left speechless, so many words, none to say?
Why do I approach you so many times,
Scared of your reaction, afraid to rewind?
My arms fly up to cover my face,
I am found in a state of utter disgrace.
I see my life pass me by,
into the dark I fly to hide.
Somewhere where you cannot see,
my shattered life consuming me.
but as I fall to my knees,
lying in the pit of my disease
I find myself flat on my face,
for I have tripped on the branch of grace.
I crawl into your waiting arms,
and become free of all my harms.
I feel your warm embrace,
biter salt on my tongue I taste,
your tears becoming the ones I cannot cry,
your grace covering my every sin and lie.
I stand back and watch amazed
composure I cannot maintain.
I stand up and jump to my feet,
raise my hands, begin to weep.
Softly, softly you sing with me,
until at last I finally see,
The trust that I fight so much against,
Is not wasted when to your eyes I glace.
You’ll never hurt me, never let me down,
let us dance on this ground,
in you, forever I am found.

Confession time.

There are times in my life where I quite literally feel as though God has taken one of those metal feeling scrub brushes to my heart. You know the ones that I’m talking about? I’m not really sure what they are called-but boy do they get the dishes clean. Their made of really rough (what feels like) shards of metal. Well, when God comes with scrub-brush in hand I often flinch. I put up a fight. I try and do it myself and sometimes I even have good intentions. Why should the Savior of the Universe get His hands dirty in my life? Why can’t I do it for Him instead? The truth of the matter is though, I can’t clean myself because every time I do I get dirty again. I can never clean myself to meet his standards, but I feel more comfortable with the scrub brush in my hand because I know that I won’t scrub too hard or take off too much skin.

See, here’s the deal. I know that no amount of “church time” or “being good” can earn my “brownie points” for a God who loves us outside of what we do. (“Not by works of righteousness which we have done but according to HIS mercy He saved us). Then why is it that I so often try and earn extra points from God and is this right to do anyway?

 Sure, I shouldn’t just go off the deep end in sin as an excuse  because I know that “God always loves me” and I know that can’t earn my salvation or lose it-(as Romans 6:1-2 says: What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?”), but I struggle with the concept of mercy. Mercy means that I should not live my life constantly trying to make a way for myself to salvation because that in itself is sin (it’s saying that God’s sacrifice was not enough and I have the ability to “be God” and be “good enough” for him), but then again I do need to have the desire and want to do things that please Him just because He is Lord of my life.

 How long will it take me to realize that Christ’s love isn’t dependent on my performance? How long will it take me to realize that sometimes I have to have Him come in with the scrub-brush to deal with the crap I have on the inside.

He’s been doing a lot of work in my heart lately. Going back to my illustration of God with the srub-brush, you know when you leave dishes unwashed and out in the open air for a few days? What happens? You know how the food just gets harder to wash off? Why is it that we hold off on God and His cleaning us off when we full well know that it’s going to hurt us more the longer it stays on it? It’s like a festering, infected wound on our bodies. The only way to heal it is to squeeze out all the bacteria and infection. Is it fun? Heck no. Does it hurt? More then words can say, but if we don’t do it, what happens? (answer: we die).

I remember as a kid I was on my hands and knees playing “cat and dog” with a close childhood friend. I slid under the couch and tore up my hand-not knowing that there was a needle sticking up under the couch. The cut was really bad, so my friend’s Dad soaked it in hydrogen peroxide to make sure that it didn’t get infected. Now, I come from a family who did nothing really (no band aid even!) when I got scraped up and perhaps that was better because boy I choked back the tears but wanted to scream. It hurt, BAD, but today-there is not infection-there is no scar-there is no reminders of that cut on my hand. If my friend’s Dad had not treated my wound as soon as I showed him I could have ended up getting an infection, or it could have scarred me more deeply.

So why do we try to hide our crap from God saying “I’ll deal with God later” (as the giant rotting mass of food on our figurative plates, or the festering wound on our body grows harder and more infected by the moment). So many people say these words (that they’ll deal with it later) as they go on to live their life in sin just adding to the grossness and infection that they carry (I’m so guilty of this!-even in the little things, I do this 100 times, I’m not saying I’m perfect at all, so don’t think that). We postpone God’s working on our hearts, but the truth of the matter is we end up coming out as the loser as addictions strengthen their hold on our life and we end up more and more miserable. I do this so much and I’m so tired of it.

It’s time for a change.
It’s time for us to let God in.
It’s time for us to bear our hearts, be brave and let God do what He needs to do with the scrub-brush.

It’s time for us to be honest that we don’t have it together and that it hurts to be messy, and it hurts to be in the process of getting ourselves clean.

Let’s quit the walls and masks please. Let’s walk away from our addictions, and let’s face the fact that we can’t earn our salvation, and we can’t fix ourselves. I’m sick of us pretending that we have it together. I’m sick of us hurting ourselves over the sin in our life.

AA says that one of the first steps towards healing from an addiction is to admit you have a problem. So…I’ll be honest for once (although I fight against it). I take off my mask tonight and I admit that I have a sin problem. I admit that I am a liar (a liar being defined as someone who struggles consistently with someone telling to the truth), I am an adulterer. I have lusted and wanted mans approval over the approval of my heavenly Father. I have struggled with hatred towards someone and bitterness is a constant companion of mine. I have an anger problem, I struggle with releasing it in healthy ways and not harming myself or others as a result. I’ve hated myself before on many occasions, hated the woman that God has made me to be and hurt His heart with my hatred. I have judged, and been judged, and judged that people were judging me. I have cheated. I have coveted, and wanted things that I did not have and don’t need. I have looked to many other idols to fill the void in my heart. I try and earn my salvation and earn “brownie points” and I’m afriad that God will let me down. I think sometimes that I know more then God. I have a hard time letting go. I sometimes love my friends more then I should and spend more time with them then I do with God. I’ve taken advantage of people, wanted more of people them then I should-got it, and regreted it, I’ve hurt people, and I’ve hurt the very man who died for me too many times to count. All that to say that I am the chief of sinners but buried beneath shame of past sins and current struggles I reach my hand out for the nail pierced hands and seeing me as completely clean the Lord reaches down into my crap and pulls me out, taking the scrub-brush to my heart and making me cleaner then ever.

If you’re 100 miles from God on a path that’s leading you further from Him, it’s never too late to turn around. The God that first called you will heal You and don’t be discouraged as you face the hurt of His cleaning-it will be worth it.
If your trapped in a cave thinking that you can somehow earn your salvation with a plastered smile on your face and a “good works” list in your right hand throw it down and run into the arms of grace.

If your confused, and you question salvation, or even God and if he’s really there and sees your pain or your confusion, join the club and know you’re never alone. Let the community of Christ come alongside you and point you to the Lord who has the answer to every question.

And if you’re like me who loves the Lord so much but feels far from Him due to sin and apathy so often, let’s get our feet back under us, confess that we don’t have it all together, and run straight into the arms of our Lord throwing aside all of our idols and false hopes that we cling onto so tightly because He never left us and searches for us (just read the story of the prodigal son).

Ask the tough questions-go ahead-this is your space. Just you and God. Write it if you want-leave a comment, or just turn away from the computer and write it, or voice it-whatever you need, but take the time to do it.

Confess how much you need the Lord-there’s no judgement here. If you want to be vulnerable and do it as a comment, do so, but if it’s just you and the Lord, embrase that time knowing that He has already removed your sins “as far as the East is from the West.” Confession is for our benifit, to help us realize just how much we need a Savior.

Don’t let this moment pass. Don’t let time slip away. Don’t walk away from God if He’s holding out the scrub-brush or the medicine. Have faith-my Jesus already took the pain, so what the Lord is doing to You is only what needs to be done.

Let’s be real with God-and be real with others and let’s see what He does with our lives-let’s see Him change the world maybe for one last time.

the depths of which you love, you will hurt

I had the great opportunity to sit under the teaching of Beth Moore this Sunday. Okay, it was via a projector and DVD, but nevertheless, it was Beth Moore. I’m not normally a Beth Moore fan, and I don’t normally go to the Beth Moore Bible study at my church since I’ve been living in a different county then my home church and working on Sundays (at a different church). DVD series’ tend to be a challenge for me anyway just because I am A.D.D. and can’t focus, but I try not to use that excuse anymore. I decided to go to Sunday School this week thanks to the encouragement of one of my big sisters, Mandy, and because I knew my other awesome friend Candi would be there because she leads it! I figured what the heck…why not eh? It’ll be fun I’m sure.

Sheesh-I had no idea what I was getting myself into. Talk about some heavy topics. The topic was on “Intensive Care” and Beth Moore talked about living in God’s intensive care unit. I’m really bad at summarizing, and I didn’t take any notes in class due to my lame excuse of not having a pen and feeling bad about asking for one, but this is what I got about God’s intensive care:

1. It’s a place where only you can go, a place where you go where you want your friends the most and they are not there for you. 

2. It’s place you go when you’re totally overwhelmed with specific sorrows and all you can think about is a specific pain that brings you there (it’s literally encircling you around your head and no matter where you turn you can’t get free from it). It doesn’t have to be a “big” thing in our society’s perspective or even our Christian circle’s perspective, but if it’s enough to consume you, then it’s enough to put you in intensive care.

3. Sometimes when you go there, your situation does not change. The cup does not pass from you and whatever sorrow brought you there in the first place does not get resolved.

BUT…

It’s there that we can be real with God. We can throw ourselves at the feet of God and literally kick and scream and ask “why” as much as we need-He won’t leave us there because our anger is “too much.” I admit, this is a new concept for me. I’ll question, sure-and I’ll be mad, yes, but I don’t dare show it physically. I was raised in a household that told me very clearly that we do not show anger-so I don’t. It doesn’t turn out well when I’ve faced tremendous grief (I think of one fall in specific where I wish I would have grieved better because years later I’m still dealing with it) with a lot of anger and I’ve just tried to ignore it. But God isn’t afraid of our (my) fits. He isn’t afraid of our screams, and in fact, by emptying ourselves of the negative emotions so many of us bottle and hide, we allow Him to fill us more with His spirit and joy. Asking “why” does not mean we doubt God. Asking “why” shows us that we’re hurting and we need Him now more then ever.

One line keeps sticking out to me from Beth’s message:

“To the depth of which you love, you will hurt.”

SO true for my life. I spent the night (I can’t sleep, in case you can’t tell) journaling the depth of some of my loves and losses (the more recent ones), and it’s been such a great time for me. I’m starting to be okay with the fact that I hurt and be okay with the fact that I lost some people that I dearly love and I am still grieving from those losses. My friends can’t help me, I have to face this on my own with God.  This whole summer God’s been at me regarding that, regarding the fact that I hurt, just like Him, I’ve lost, just like Him, and He wept when He suffered various losses, so why do I hold up the expectation to myself that I will not weep? He’s been giving me time alone with no one else beside me to make me understand that He is strong enough to hold me.

At the same time he’s helping me realize that I am surrounded by people who love and support me and want to help me through processing my loss if I’ll trust them enough to let them in. Even as I prepare to leave the circle of friends and support that I have here in Virginia (I move in 5 days), I won’t be away from the community of Christ. My challenge now is trusting from the start. I’m the kind of person who doesn’t like to trust, but as much as I am open to the help of others, God may just use some people to speak into my life in an amazing way.

I don’t know if this made much sense. It’s late, and my thoughts are kind of jumbled, but I want you to know that if you’re going through loss that you’re not alone. I want you to know that God can handle your questions, your anger, and your pain. I want you to know that He’s big enough to take all of your frustrations, and you don’t have to walk that path alone. Even if God’s calling you to intensive care where no one else can go but you know that you are being held by the prayers of the saints for you. I’ll say it again, you are not alone.

I’ve got better questions…

I have so many questions tonight.

I remember that song I used to listen to by Todd Agnew. It started “I have better questions then I have answers….”-it’s so true.

I have so many thoughts. I just keep thinking about life-about love-about God-about forgiveness-about grace-and wrestling through these topics. Like how much of what I do is motivated by my desire to earn my salvation? Why can’t I just be who God created me to be without barriers and guards up to the rest of the world? Why does society shape my perspective on who I should become so much? Why can’t I let God just love me?

I keep trying to write something, but I keep erasing it because nothing makes sense. I feel vulnerable when I am like this. All I know is that God is up to something. I crave more of Him-more of His presence-more of who He is. Why can’t we just be content with Him-is He really enough to satisfy our every need and if so why do we so often look to others to fulfil those needs?

Honey I’m home!

I’m home.

I’m home from my summer internship. I’m home from the longest summer I think I’ve ever had (but yet, it still passed incredibly fast at the end). I’m home from the best three days I’ve spent anywhere in a long while and I feel like I’m finally back to me. I’m no longer as restless as I was. I’m no longer as distant as I felt. I’m no longer as stressed, and overwhelmed, and overburdened and trying to take on six months in one day and that all happened thanks to three days of getting my feet back under me in West Virginia on our church’s mission trip. For now, I’m just worried about getting my room clean and if I’m going to get the chance to say goodbye to the people that I need to say goodbye to before I leave to move to Pennsylvania in 12 short days.

I still am processing a lot. Ever feel like you should have a systems overload button? I sure do. A lot went on this summer. I have experienced lot of growth. I discovered a lot of ugliness in myself, but a lot of blessings too. I’ll start recorded some of the happenings soon-don’t yah worry, but for now, I just wanted to let you know that I’m still alive.

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