Miracles

Albert Einstein once said this, "There are two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." I love this. It is inspiring, but how far does it really go? Does it include seeing ourselves as miracles?

I had two people who know some of the deepest, darkest parts of me say these things to me a few weeks ago, within 24 hours of one another: "It is miraculous that you are sitting here..." And, "You are a walking miracle..."

Children who are born after years of infertility hear words like these, or those who have survived some near death experience, especially as a young child. Babies who are born extremely premature are often referred to as "miracles." We often think of miracles in this way, as the happy ending of some extreme medical difficulty, but there are many types of miracles, not all defy the scientific odds.

It is still odd and uncomfortable to hear the term applied to me. When I look at my life I don't see "miracle." I see messy! I see someone who has been abused. I see a life that has suffered losses so deeply that fear of losing anything else is paralyzing. I see someone who has never felt good enough to do anything worthwhile. I see someone who doesn't feel pretty or lovable. I only see someone who is wounded and dirty.

And yet, I know that I am a miracle. Many who have been through what I have been through find themselves dropping out of school, struggling with addictions, abusing others, continuing to be abused, or being reckless and promiscuous with themselves and their bodies. I know. I watched it happen to many people in my life. It was part of what motivated me to be different. I have even wondered if my miracle came at their expense. Of course there was divine intervention as well. God placed many people in the right places at the right times to make the kind of impact that led to the "miraculous" in my life. There were those who encouraged me, challenged me, and demonstrated God's love to me. Ultimately, though it was God's presence and power that produce the miracle that is me.

The fact is, no matter how battered and damaged we may feel, no matter how many mistakes we have made, or how much trauma we have endured, we are still dearly loved by God. There is nowhere we can flee from His presence, not even the depths of Hell, literal or figurative, of our own making, or brought on through no fault of our own, is beyond the reach of God's hand.

We are all miracles, fearfully and wonderfully made in God's image.

A friend of mine, Giles Blankenship, wrote a song titled Image of God that speaks to me. The first time I heard the bridge it brought tears to my eyes. Speaking of Jesus the song says, "He says it long and it loud and you can hear Him crying out, 'This one's mine; yes that's my child; I'd do anything...Oh I'd even give my life...to fix every broken piece inside..."

The question is not whether God can make your life a miracle, or even whether He wants to. The question is, what are you going to do with your life when He does? He comforts us so we can comfort others. He heals us so others can have hope when they see our scars. He encourages us so we can build up another. He reaches out and picks up the broken pieces of our lives and then expects us to go, and do likewise.

I'll admit it, it isn't easy. The prospect of helping someone else when I feel incapable and unworthy is scary. Sometimes the voice in my head that I hear loudest says, "Who are you to reach out to someone? You aren't good enough."I have to find ways to hear another voice, the voice that says, "You were bought with a price and you are Mine! Created in my image, precious child, live out the miracle that I have done in you."

Chocolate

According to my Facebook newsfeed at least, today is Chocolate Day! I don't know about you all, but I LOVE chocolate! While milk chocolate and white chocolate (yes I know white chocolate is not really chocolate) have always been my favorites, as I have matured over the years I have grown a deep love and appreciation for the much richer (and arguably healthier) dark chocolate. I have a weakness for the candy isle and especially for chocolate pies and cookies as I walk through the grocery store, and it is indeed rare if something of the chocolate variety doesn't find its way into my cart. My chocolate addiction comes at a cost, however, and I have come to learn that it is much bigger than just the cost of my waistline.

In America, we often see a product on the shelves and do not think about what goes into it. That is what happens in a consumer driven society. We are blinded by large companies creative and tantalizing advertising campaigns with their catchy slogans and eye catching packaging. What we don't see are the deplorable practices behind the products.

You see, most of the world's cocoa is produced in some of the poorest countries in the world. Companies seek out the cheapest price and so large farmers compete to underbid one another. Unfortunately, the only way they can do that is to use slave and child labor to work their fields, while large corporations turn a blind eye. It is a sad, but true fact that every time you and I grab a candy bar at the checkout counter we are supporting these outrageous practices in poor countries in Africa and other parts of the world.

Fortunately, there are alternatives. The Baptist Fair Trade project, among other faith groups dedicated to improving the lives of farmers and their families seek to make a difference. Through partnering with Equal Exchange groups can promote products that are not only good quality, but also help small farmers by paying a fair price for the products produced, illuminating the need for slave and child labor. These groups also lead in educating consumers on fair trade products.

We just celebrated the Forth of July here in the US, so for many the words, "Liberty and Justice for ALL," are fresh in our minds. Think about who "all" should include. Does that justice apply only to the privileged who live in this country? The biblical understanding of the word justice is about doing what is right by other people. It is about caring for the orphan and the widow and the underprivileged and outcasts of society. Making just choices should include making the choice to end slavery, child labor, and oppression. For us, that may mean indulging in a little more chocolate today. Here is a link to get you started!

http://equalexchange.coop/products/chocolate 

Fireworks

Growing up, the Fourth of July was one of my favorite holidays. I loved the BBQ, the pool time, but most of all I looked forward to going to the lake front and staking out a spot in the grass with a few snacks, maybe some playing cards while we waited until dark, and then...BOOM! Some years the show was spectacular as it lit up the sky, reflecting on the water, other years it was a dud, but none the less I always looked forward with great anticipation to the show.

I admit it, as an adult I am a bit of a fireworks snob. The best fireworks shows I have ever seen of course were Disney productions. Anyone who knows me knows that I am a bit of a Disney fanatic and, growing up in Central Florida, Disney often sponsored shows in either Orlando or my hometown of Sanford. The shows were perfectly choreographed to a musical score broadcast on a local radio station. Everyone brought their portable radios to tune in. It is pure magic when what we see and hear match perfectly. Unfortunately, life does not always reflect Disney Magic.

There are moments when life seems perfect, only to be interrupted by tragedy. What we see around us hasn't changed, but we hear on the news of bombings, or children being killed or wildfires destroying homes and taking lives along with it. The peaceful neighborhood we live in has been invaded by news hundreds if not thousands of miles away and we begin to live in fear that it COULD happen here. We go overboard with precautions and we panic about every possibility of tragedy.

Brene Brown talks about this in her book The Gifts of Imperfection. She recounts the story that many of us have lived out as parents watching their sleeping children, on the edge of embracing the joy when suddenly the fear of losing it all grips us. In reflecting on that experience she says this, "Until we can tolerate vulnerability and transform it in to gratitude, intense feelings of love will often bring up the fear of loss."

The fact is yes, these things could happen anywhere, but Jesus warns us against panicking over that. "Do not worry for tomorrow," He tells us in Matthew 6:34. Enjoy today, take pleasure in the blessings right before your eyes instead of allowing the soundtrack of potential tragedy take away from the beauty that is right in front of you. Be thankful. Let gratitude, thankfulness, and joy be the soundtrack for today, instead of the trauma that might happen tomorrow. Let tomorrow worry about itself.

Sticks and Stones

This was the alternate post to the last one I posted. I wrote this one first and then decided that putting the same thoughts in story form had more power. I wanted readers to feel the weight of the words and I thought that could be done better in a narrative. I would love to hear thoughts of comparison between the two posts.

"Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me."

Most of us grew up learning this little rhyme, but the problem is it could not be further from true. Words do hurt. They can be as painful and destructive as a machine gun randomly fired into a crowded room.

"You are such a mess."
"You are hopeless."
"You're not good enough."
"I give up on you."
"You are just like...(fill in the blank with any number of hurtful comparisons)"

Words like these stick. They get lodged in a person's psyche, slowly leaking their poison over time. Sometimes they are so loud nothing else can get in as they eat away at self-worth, and confidence, and block out feelings of love and acceptance.

Thankfully, the opposite can also be true. Words can heal. The right word, spoken in the right way and at the right time can be as precise as a surgeon's scalpel.

"You are loved."
"You didn't do anything wrong."
"I believe you."
"You can do it."
"You are a miracle."

These words are sometimes painfully true in the moment they are spoken, especially when spoken into the heart of one who has been poisoned by the opposite. The bad stuff is often easier to believe. However, when we give these positive messages the chance to sink in, when we really allow ourselves to sit and dwell with these things long enough, they become the antidote to the poison. Slowly, over time, we can find healing. It is not a magic formula for healing overnight, but it can happen.

Ultimately, there is one word that is able to heal over all others. The Gospel of John tells us about that Word. It is the Word who was God that became flesh. Jesus, the Incarnate Word came to bring the ultimate healing for forgiveness and abundance. Listen to a few of His words.

"Your sins are forgiven."
"Arise and walk."
"My peace I give to you."
"Come, follow Me."

We have the power to choose the words we abide in and the words that come out of our mouth. Will we choose words of destruction, or words of promise? Will we choose words of pain and hurt, or words of hope and healing? Will we abide in the words of our own flesh, or the Word which became flesh for us? Words are powerful. Choose them wisely.  

Words Have Power

 I do not write a lot of fiction these days. In fact, the last fictional short story I wrote was for Dr. Tony Cartledge's Ministry of Writing class several years ago. It is not that I do not still love to write stories, but simply that I do not often find time and opportunity to craft a good fictional story. I want everything I write to convey important message and meaning for people. The following story is a fictional account, but it is one that, given the number of victims of sexual and physical abuse, could have been played out very similarly in many lives. If you have been touched by abuse in some way, I hope the words of this story are healing to you. Even if you have not been effected personally, I hope that you can learn something from this story. Trigger Warning: Sexual and Physical abuse are discussed in this post.

"You didn't do anything wrong."

The words were almost painful to hear because of their truth. It was even harder to believe. They were as precise as a surgeon's scalpel, penetrating through years of hurtful and abusive words and actions. They were words that, as she would allow herself to dwell in them would allow for healing.

Only one other time had words penetrated so deeply and so accurately into Carlie's painful past. It was in the arms of her husband one night that he uttered the words, "You are loved." Though she knew that Philip had spoken, she felt as though the words came from God directly. It was the first time she ever felt truly loved, truly worthy of love.

Though these words were spoken to a grown woman, married with children of her own, she did not hear them that way. She heard them as a little girl, abused and neglected. The memory that stood out most was when she was nine years old. She told her parents what had happened only to be met by a silent, disapproving glare from her mother. Later she listened as her parents fought over her. Clearly her father believed her, but her mother refused to. She heard her mother call her names that she could not reveal to anyone, or even repeat in her journal. Nevertheless, she did believe the things her mother said. Mothers are supposed to be right after all, and they are supposed to be believed. "I must have done something wrong," she wrote in her journal the next morning after the yelling had stopped. "I brought this on myself and and I really am the whore my mother told my father I am."

Carlie was nine years old on the night she wrote that journal entry, but the abuse began long before that. She was abused sexually by her uncle, physically by her mother, and emotionally by her mother, grandmother, and even her older brothers on occasion who were constantly critical of everything from her appearance to the way she walked and talked. The years of abuse had damaged her self worth, and her ability to feel loved.

When Carlie became a Christian as a young teenager, she thought she had found a way out of the criticism and abuse. The promise of "all things becoming new" meant that she had a chance of escaping the labels that had been put on her. For awhile it helped a little for her to feel better about herself. Eventually she even enrolled in a Christian college where she caught the attention of Phillip, a young man studying to be a pastor. The two were engaged within a year.

When they returned home to share the news, the nightmare began again. Her mother found her alone and began her attack. "What makes you think you're good enough to be a pastor's wife? You are too selfish and spoiled. You'll never be good enough."

Those words would haunt Carlie. They opened the door and brought back all the insecurities and pain from childhood. The physical abuse from her mother and the sexual abuse from her uncle all came flooding back, as did the feelings that it was her fault because of the words which served to constantly tear her down. Words hurt. They can tear into the heart and mind of a person like a machine gun carelessly fired into a crowded room, and they are much more difficult to remove than a stray bullet. They stay lodged in, slowly and steadily leaking their poison into the soul.

Words can also be the antidote, but only when the poisonous words are quieted enough to hear the healing ones. "You are loved," penetrated into the soul of a little girl who felt unlovable. "You didn't do anything wrong," spoke directly to a five year old who could not say "no" to an uncle who was much bigger and stronger than her, and to the eight year old who was slapped around and called names by her mother.

Words have power to wound and to heal. Sometimes we use too many words, and they lose their power. My hope is that this story reminds us all that we are responsible for what comes out of our mouths. We never know what another person has endured. The Bible tells us that, "Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks." I hope that my mouth overflows with words of healing, restoration, and peace today.  

Steal Your Life Back

Donald Miller posed this question on his twitter yesterday, “How can the suffering you’ve experienced become an unintended blessing? What is good about the pain you’ve known?”

As I read that tweet, I thought, “I could write a blog, no make that a book, on this question.”

The problem is, so often people think the best response to pain is to ignore it, avoid it, bury it, and most importantly hide it from the rest of the world. We all tend to put a show on for the world of our perfect life, hiding our scars, and especially our gaping wounds, as much as possible, whenever possible. We think, “As long as everything looks good from the outside, I can ignore what is happening on the inside and it will just go away.” I am just as guilty of feeling and thinking this way as anyone else out there.

I am learning, however, how crippling and foolish it is to try to bury the painful things in our lives. Keeping our pain secret is like having an infection that could be cured with simple antibiotics, but we refuse to take them. Instead, we let it spread and grow until we cannot bear the symptoms any longer, and by then it is going to take a lot more than a simple pill. It becomes exhausting as it eats us away from the inside out. We end up suffering from even more things we try to hide like anxiety and depression.

When we reveal our wounds, admit our struggles, and drop the charade of perfection, only then can we begin to heal. Do we need to be careful who to reveal our pain to? Of course we do, especially at first, while the wounds are still gaping and the infection is still raging. Healing comes from sharing with those who can offer empathy and understanding, not those who are sympathetic and withdraw.

Once those open wounds begin to heal, they become scars. Our scars are beautiful. They become our strength, and they can be used to strengthen others. Our scars say to others, “You are not alone.” Sympathy says, “Oh, you poor thing, I am so sorry for you. I will never understand.” They say with genuine empathy, “I have been where you are and I know it hurts, but I am with you.”

None of our scars are exactly the same, but all of us have scars. The good comes in using our scars to help others. The good comes in being transparent, real, and authentic. The good comes when we realize that pain is a part of what binds us as humans. The good comes when we remember that God himself took on human flesh, including its pain so that he could understand and empathize with us. The good comes when we realize that by His stripes we are healed, because his scars let us know we have a God who can accept us, scars and all. Is it scary to let others see our scars? Yes. Am I completely there yet? No, but I am working on it, and I am finding my wounds healing and my scars making me stronger, more confident, and more compassionate every day as I walk the journey.

Conforming Corporations or Transforming Lives

I have a confession to make. Since I finished Divinity School I have become a read-a-holic. This new addiction actually started the summer before my final semester of Divinity School, but since completing the final assignment for school it has taken on a new life. I am not only addicted to reading books, some of which I may blog about in another post. I am addicted to following and reading blogs by many of my favorite authors/bloggers including Rachel Held Evans, Donald Miller, Brene Brown just to name a few. I am also addicted to reading articles that many of my friends are posting on Facebook and Twitter and the comments that are often generated by such articles. Today has been a day full of interesting posts.

Two posts in particular, and the debates they generated, caught my attention. Both centered around one of my favorite places to pull through to get a Grande White Chocolate Mocha Frappuccino, you guessed it, Starbucks! The question of the day appears to be, "Should Christians Boycott Starbucks?" and apparently my friends are answering with mixed reviews. Seeing the popularity of this conversation today, I felt compelled to weigh in with my opinion, which I am certain will be met with mixed reviews as well.

I am disturbed by the fact that being right, and believing right has become the most important thing in some Christian circles. I am disturbed by the fact that some Christians feel it is more important to the Kingdom of God to take a political stance, and to make a power play with a company than to reach out and love people. I am disturbed by the fact that we are more concerned with the moral rightness of same-sex marriage than we are with the moral wrongness of childhood sexual and physical abuse. I am concerned because I don't believe any of these things are consistent with Jesus' teachings or the Kingdom of God.

Jesus was never concerned with politics. In fact, when the religious leaders tried to engage him on matters of politics, he replied by saying, "Give to Caeser what is Caeser's and to God what is God's." When the children were brought to him and the disciples tried to send them away, he took them in his arms and blessed them. When he encountered a woman with a questionable past in a land that Jews simply avoided because of prejudice, he offered her love, grace, and life, not condemnation. When Jesus rode in to Jerusalem on Palm Sunday the people wanted him to take his rightful place as king and leader, instead he took the place of a criminal and bore the cross, "despising the shame." Many times Christians want to heap that shame on others, shame that says, "You are not good enough, you will never be good enough." The truth is Jesus is the only one who was good enough, and he hung out with those who were constantly excluded from society.

The Christian life is not about making the world, or the government, or major corporations conform to our standards, morals, or beliefs. The Christian life is about transformation of lives of people who God calls us to. Paul says, "All things are lawful for me, but not all things are profitable." He goes on to say that if anything that we, as mature believers, do causes a weaker brother or sister to stumble, we should not do it. He also takes this one step further, he says if anything we do causes the gospel to be hindered, we should not do it either. If my attitude towards a particular company causes me to not be able to share Christ with the young college student who has to work there because it is the only job she can find, then it is my attitude that needs adjusting. The Gospel is by definition "Good News" but the goodness can be drowned out by our attitudes and actions as Christ's ambassadors. We are called to be servants of the least of these, not leaders of the privileged. Are we about forcing companies to conform or helping lives be transformed?