It's Spring! (Really)

OK, so it's not a big secret...I love warm weather.  And though it hasn't actually made it to WARM yet, there is one thing keeping me sane. 

Sunlight is a huge deal. Spring has brought it back at least a bit more consistently than winter did. It's a bit demented, I'm sure, but I get so desperate for it that I have been pulling Sam's bed to the patio glass door so I can absorb as much sunlight as humanly possible while I read.  It actually feels like it's saving me from winter's darkness.  It heals some sort of ache in me.  It's addictive, I can't stop...until Sam gets so upset with me I can't stand him alternately barking and nuzzling me to get me off of his bed. He's downright pushy. 

There are even the days where it's warm enough and sunny enough to play outside.
This, as all you moms with kids at home know, is like a lifeline, now that they have been cooped up for oh, FOUR MONTHS.  So Sarah and her best buddy Drew and I took full advantage.

Saturday mornings are no longer spent huddled by the heater inside the barn. 

Em gets to ride OUTSIDE!!!

It's amazing how fearless she is on a horse

especially considering she can be anxious about other things. 

She loves bossing that big animal around. 

What can I say about Grace and spring?  Well, now that the sunlight hits the big windows of her ballet studio and they haven't turned on the air conditioners...her feet smell even worse.  Seriously, it's one of the disclaimers they need to put on pointe shoe labels.  There are few things on this earth that smell worse than dancer's feet...but we love them anyway.  Here they are all washed and clean...still a little scary though. (Side note: Did I mention how strong her feet are?  It's crazy, and kind of fascinating, and terrible on shoes.)

A few warm days back, I pruned my rose bushes, admired the first few green leaves from my strawberry plants, and cleared the debris from my mint patch.  I can't wait for more warmth, but the light on my face keeps me going 'til we get there.

Quick Update

This morning I was blessed to announce to the New Hope congregation that in six weeks, through the House of Cards Project, all the money necessary to help Gogo Sheila build her house has been raised...and that we are already in the process of starting to build another House of Cards for Gogo Eliya. 

Very shortly I will have Eliya's story up on the New Hope Swaziland Blog and I will update you on all the things we are praying about developing for House of Cards. 

Also, we will keep you updated on the progress of Sheila's House as communication allows. 

Let us know if you would like to be a part of this ministry.  We do need help.  Right now, please be praying God would guide our steps for the future.

Thank you to all who have participated in this ministry.

If you would like to buy cards, or help us to sell them, e-mail me at bgrace@embarqmail.com

If you would like to send a donation directly to the project, you may send it to New Hope Church and designate it to House of Cards.

584 Colonial Club Drive Harrisburg, PA 17112
PHONE (717) 545-3400 ~ FAX (717) 545-5509
newhopeoffices@verizon.net  

Blessings, 

B

(Just a few) Words

I got angry this morning.
For a long time this morning I came up with a hundred things I wanted to say to a large part of the Christian Community.
Then narrowed it down to 10 that I thought I should say.
But I'm only going to say 1 of them.
John Piper, your statement concerning Rob Bell says more about you than Bell's whole book says about him.
I'm going to not say any more about anyone else but me, and my own journey as a writer.
But before I do that, here's a post you should read called faith and ashes.

And below, you can read a post I wrote more than two years ago about Mary.

I know these probably seem unrelated to the first few lines.  They're not.  I'll explain soon.

Excerpt from:

Blessing--The Lesson
When Gabriel paid Mary a visit and told her she was blessed...he didn't exactly tell her the whole story. Mary, yielded to God in her heart as she was, responded with, "May it be unto me as you have said." Or something like that. And that was very good. God knew when He picked her how much she was devoted to him. He knew she would say yes.

But there's this part of me that says, "Hmmmmm, I'm not really sure that was very fair." Quite frankly, I wonder how many times along the journey Mary thought the same thing.

What I'm saying is that Mary did not have an accurate understanding of what she was signing up for. And the other thing I'm saying is that God was ACUTELY aware of that. In fact, He did it on purpose. Why? Because as Jack says, "You can't handle the truth."

Ok, so I'm being a bit callous in the way this is coming out. Of course, unlike me, Mary was chosen as the Mother of God, so perhaps she didn't feel any of these things (though I doubt that.) And I don't really mean to be callous. The truth is, in some ways it was a protection.

Yes, God's not telling Mary what was up ahead was a protection for her.

Mary had to grow into her calling. Her role. Her understanding of what it meant to be the Mother of the Messiah, the Mother of the King, the Mother of the Lamb. Can you imagine if Gabriel had filled her in on the crucifixion right then and there? She's still dealing with, "How exactly do I tell Joseph and my parents and how am I going to keep from getting stoned to death?" I'd say not telling her about the whole crucifixion part was a kindness.

Still, there's this part of me that's feeling like God was a bit (dare I say it) unfair to Mary.

Like she signed a contract she wasn't allowed to read.

How many times in her life did she feel that things were going horribly wrong, like what was happening was not exactly "part of the plan?"

When her son was wandering off for days at a time and shrugging her authority? When she thought that Jesus was crazy? When Judas betrayed Jesus? Or was it only at the crucifixion when all of what she went through seemed like a complete sham?

OF COURSE it wasn't. But God didn't exactly explain that what He had said to her all along was true...it just didn't look quite like she pictured it. She was given the blessed son she was promised but it wasn't the blessing she thought it would be.

It was better.

Is that part of the grace? That God asks us to receive something wonderful, but terrible too. Something so great it is beyond our ability to imagine, but that will pierce us so deeply it will forevermore change us. Perhaps it is precisely that wound which enables us to enter into the blessedness. That somehow being blessed is not a moment but rather a birth, a process, a becoming, and an entering into all in one?

And from where I sit right now, when I look at all that has been, and all that is, and (as I am beginning to understand more and more) what will be, I'm kind of feeling like Mary must have felt when it began to dawn on her that Jesus might actually die. Or that the kind of King he would be wasn't the kind she was thinking of.

She must have had to unthread quite a bit.

And when you unthread...it's really painful. To honestly go through that kind of pain, there is a pause that must be lived through. It's living through the question of whether or not I am willing to accept the blessing as it is. The blessing that is actually offered instead of what I thought God was offering. And its painful to continue to move toward the God who has wounded me. I have to relearn trust. And this isn't a little thing because it takes some sorting through. I FEEL like I was duped by God. But I wasn't. I FEEL like God lied to me, but He didn't. I FEEL like I followed in every way I was called to, and I did. I feel like those around me let me down, and often they did. I feel like the violence and betrayals and abandonments I've gone through couldn't have been right, and they weren't. I feel like none of that could have been part of the plan, and yet it WAS. All along it was. All along God knew. And all of those things don't seem to add up to the outcome UNTIL God sheds his light and says, "Now look and see what I have for you, what I have told you of all along, how my promise is true." And you go, "OOOOOOH. Now I get it."

But why didn't You just say so in the first place?

The answer is actually fairly simple:

I needed to go through every excruciating step of this journey to be able to enter into this blessing, in its right time, in its fullness.

But can I forgive God for loving me enough to wound me so deeply? And can I offer myself up for more?

Am I willing now to receive the blessing? To let my heart be warmed from its cold grave and my arms open to receive the promise of the God who loved me so much He chose me for this?

The blessing in its full light is always better than what we thought we saw. JESUS was the Messiah for all people of all times and Mary's own redemption came through his death. Jesus was raised up to rule at the right hand of the Father and His glory made known to all. Why wouldn't we say, "YES!"

But there are those in between moments where our hearts are still bleeding from all the tearing that has taken place and we're just not sure we're up for the next leg of the journey. This is the pause I find myself in.

And God is gracious. He gives us time and grace to heal.

I wonder what it was like for Mary to see the resurrected Jesus. To feel all of that horrible despair and desperation and hopelessness melt away into pure joy.

I wonder what it was like for the realization to dawn on her that He was to rule a heavenly kingdom.

I wonder what it was like for her to realize that all too soon He was leaving again.

I sometimes wonder how her heart withstood so much blessing.

But I'm guessing that now, she's probably glad.

Hold On 'Til Dawn

The following post was written last year. I have been seeing so much oppression lately, both in my own life and in the lives of those I care about that I thought I would dig this piece up.
Blessings,
B

Photo by Bgrace

Last night I went through a battle with oppression.  It is certainly not the first time, and probably not the last.  The intensity with which it came was pretty strong,  but I didn't completely lose my bearings.  I felt like I knew how to fight. 
Sometimes when people talk about how Satan oppresses, they use a lot of generalities and categories. The thing is that when you are being oppressed Satan doesn't exactly carry a neon sign that says, "I am oppressing you, take notice." In fact, he's really good at making it feel like it's coming from YOU.
I know oppression doesn't always look the same.  The battles and tactics are different because our enemy is smart enough to point his weapons at our weaknesses.  But there are some key elements the enemy employs that I think usually help us to recognize oppression, and there are a few weapons we have that help us survive the onslaught. 
One of the things that Satan loves to do is move at me when God is taking me through a period of refinement or purification.  It's usually a point at which God is showing me areas in my life that are not what they should be.  My heart is at a vulnerable place before God, and I am very open to God showing me the impurities in my heart, and asking Him to direct me.  It's a very important time, and one Satan doesn't want me to see clearly in. 
So he loves to create confusion.  He'll kick up a dust storm around us or cause the bats to swarm. There are a few things that this accomplishes for him.  First, we lose a sense of direction.  If the source of light is the way we find North, than if he can cut off our visibility, we don't know how to find our bearings.  If we truly can't figure out which way truth is, it's more likely we will follow the direction he wants us to take. Usually that direction is not left or right, it is lost.  Satan makes us feel like everything we've ever believed about our decisions and God's direction is a lie.  He undermines us by pouring doubt into our minds.
The second thing this does is it makes us feel isolated and separated.  If we can't find our way through the dust or the bats, we come to the place where we can't feel God's presence and we can begin to think that we are so far gone no one can help us.  Because we feel isolated and we don't have our bearings, we feel a loss of control and it makes us feel afraid.  Fear can lead to panic.  It is very scary to be under a high level of oppression.   It's a place you want to get out of as quickly as you can.  We ask questions like, what did I do to get to this place?  How have I sinned? 
And you would think that those would be the right questions to ask during that time. But we need to be careful to identify who is answering our questions. 
When we are asking is precisely when we are most vulnerable for the accuser to move in.  What he bombards us with may sound like conviction or feel like clarity because it is another way of looking at things, but it is always a lie, a twist, a perversion of the truth.  And his tactics are doubt, guilt/shame, and fear.  He weakens us with those until he knows he can bring in the big guns of hopelessness and failure.
I used to think that that the best way to deal with those attacks was to fight back with truth about myself. So I would have these battles where I would deal with the attacks by rationalizing (giving reasons), or explaining (why I did or did not), or justifying (why it was right or wrong), or defending myself--my heart, my motives, my actions.  But if Satan can get us caught in that web he'll wrap us up before we know it.  Because the truth is the accuser is well aware of our imperfections.  And he's very good at pointing them out.  So in trying to save ourselves we play right into his hands (or web) and eventually he eats us for lunch. 
Instead, I've learned that I need to tell myself the truth about God.  Especially the truths Satan is trying to undermine in that moment: 
First, NOTHING can separate me from the love of God.  (Say it as many times as you need to until your spirit knows it is true.)
Second, a few years ago I read in The Book of the Poor in Spirit this truth that has helped me countless times.  The only place that we are truly safe from Satan is the ground floor of humility.  Satan always comes at us through our pride.  So when we recognize that we are truly nothing but for grace, we are standing on nothing but grace, our accuser has no ground left to attack us on. 
Third, when the attacks come in full force, sometimes there is nothing we can do but run for shelter.  We need sanctuary.  Satan is really good at making us feel like if we don't figure it all out immediately we are going to lose it.  Instead, I've learned to say, "I am under attack right now and I can't trust that I am seeing clearly.  Lord I know that your love is long suffering, that You are patient with me.  I don't have to figure this all out tonight.  Protect me until the onslaught passes."  And usually the worst of the battle seems to come for me at the end of the day, when I'm tired.  I've learned that if I can hold on 'til dawn, I can see more clearly. 
So what does that look like?
This is what it looked like for me yesterday:  I had been seeking the Lord for clarity and affirmation, and so I asked Jean to help me with Sarah for the afternoon.  I spent three hours before the Lord bearing my soul to Him.  I knew that I had been heard, but I didn't have a response.  In the quiet, fear began to creep in.  Condemnation.  Then doubt.  I began to look at all the decisions I had made in the past few weeks and every possible direction I could have taken felt just as wrong as any other.  Every path a wrong turn.  Confusion. It must all be because of the impurity of my heart. Guilt.  I need to confess.  But I'm not sure what to confess.  I'm trying to find the threads of truth so I can reorient my world in the right direction but I don't know what is true.  I can't hear God. Voices coming at me telling me I should have done this and that.  But none of it fits.  It feels like it must be all up to me to get back to God's presence.  But I don't know where to go. Separation.  Oh, I'm really lost now.  And look at all the people I'm taking with me to hell.  It's all my fault.  Failure.  And because I can't possibly figure out which way is truth, and which way is God, it's hopeless.
Do you see the progression?
The thing is that I've been through this attack enough times to know that even though it seems to be coming from me, I know that it is coming upon me. I can choose to receive the lies or not.  But how do I know the difference between conviction (from God) and oppression (from Satan)?
Conviction doesn't make us feel lost.  Conviction, though often painful, leads us toward truth and light--toward feeling found.  It brings life and hope in the midst of painful recognition.  It's a subtle difference, but an important one. 
Give yourself time and space to sort through the difference.  But Satan isn't always polite as far as timing is concerned.  He interrupts us in our busyness.  So in the midst of getting the girls dinner and dressed for bed and teeth brushed etc. I couldn't ignore the battle.
Though I am aware of all the lies swarming my spirit, I speak truth--to myself and to the spirits of darkness. I said to myself repeatedly, "Nothing can separate me from the love of Christ"--reminding myself of the truth of this scripture.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: "For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:35-39 (NIV)
After the girls went to sleep, I walked myself through a few things that I do even if they don't seem to help at first.
I went to my place of prayer. 
I lit a candle.  (I do this as a visual representation of the Spirit of God.  This way I remind myself that He is present even if I can't sense Him.) 
Then I had communion.  Apple Cider and a cracker.  It's the closest thing I had.  I remind myself and Satan that I am saved by the sacrifice of Christ.  I whispered over and over out loud, "Jesus is my Savior, Jesus is my Savior." (I needed to be rescued.)

Sometimes this will break the oppression.  But it didn't.  So I listen for what is next.  Many times the Lord will direct us if we listen. If the idea that comes to us brings life and is in line with Scripture I go with it.  My sense was that this battle was bigger than just me. With the realization I needed help I prayed for the angels to come. Warrior angels to fight, so I prayed for Michael's angels. I needed clarity from God, direction, God's truth to speak louder than the lies so I prayed for Gabriel's angels. Messenger angels. I also sensed the Lord asking me to call my friends to prayer.  I named the people He brought to my mind and asked Him to guide them into prayer for me.  I didn't know if He would or if they would answer the call, but I knew it was a good prayer to pray.  

I was praying in front of The Butterfly Lady, and earlier I had read about cities of refuge, places God commanded the people to build for situations where people needed protection, like when they murdered someone by accident.  There they could find sanctuary from their accusers.  I recalled Psalm 27 and felt like I needed sanctuary.  There are times when I feel like I am supposed to fight the battle head on.  There are other times when I realize it is too big for me and I must seek protection and wait until help comes.  I asked for sanctuary.  It's the place where our spirit connects with God's Spirit directly and nothing else can touch it--Spirit unto spirit communion.

I began to feel drowsy and knew that sleep was coming.  But I know it is possible for Satan to oppress through dreams and so I wasn't sure if I should try to stay awake or not.  I sensed I should go upstairs to bed.  Matt had fallen asleep putting Sarah to bed, so I woke him enough to get him to our room.  I laid down next to him and waited.  I sort of felt like it was open season on my head.  I was astonished with all that was coming at my mind, and glad that I was distanced enough  from it not to receive it all, but I remember feeling like I had no skull over the top of my mind and was completely open to attack.  I laughingly thought, "I need a helmet!"  

And then it hit me, OH...I need a covering.  So with that thought came a million others which I will not take time to share, but I really had to listen then for what was next.  I asked if I should wake Matt and ask him to put his hands on my head and pray over me.  I was hesitant because I knew he was exhausted and had to leave for Pittsburgh at 4:30AM.  But I wasn't unwilling if the Lord directed.  Then the Lord brought to my mind a word He had spoken to me very clearly the March I went to Atlantic city.  He said, "I will be your covering." (Read soul stopping pause here.)

So I asked the Lord to cover my head and I literally felt like a blanket was put on top of my head and immediately all the voices were quiet.  It was like I had spiritual and mental earplugs.  

Then I closed my eyes and slept.

I woke at 3:00AM and realized the onslaught had passed.  I asked if I was supposed to get up and pray and start working on that clarity from before, but I didn't sense God was in a hurry.  

So I gave myself up back to sleep.  I woke with the sun shining through my window.  I knew I had made it through the night.  The wounds from the battle are still a little sore, but my mind is no longer under a barrage of accusations and I no longer feel the lies pressing in.  And I'm OK.

...It's time to play with Sarah.