Earlier this month I had the privilege of attending Women of Faith in Kansas City. I was so excited to go because I had gone for the first time last year and that was when my life personally and spiritually really began to take off and change into something much deeper. I was looking forward to seeing and hearing some new speakers whom I hadn't had the chance to hear before and I had spent a lot of time praying that my heart would be open to what they would have to say. One of the first speakers this year was Patsy Clairmont, and if you don't know who she is, she is a teeny little lady with a lot of spunk who is just inspiring at least to me, and even though I had looked her up and watched some of her videos online, I wasn't well acquainted with her story. I won't get into what her story is as that is not what this blog is about, but at one point she said that she heard the voice of God telling her to "make her bed". That little statement hit me hard and really meant a lot to me. It was so comforting to hear from someone who had been where I have been, still am part of the time and hope to never go to again.
Make your bed. It seems simple enough, and no, it is not some kind of vague statement with a hidden meaning. It is as simple as that, make your bed, make the bed. For those of us who suffer from debilitating depression, just making the bed can be an almost insurmountable task. I am glad to say that I have achieved that goal,....today. Do I every day? Definitely not, but now it does not quite have the impact on me that it used to have.
Depression. It seems like a horrible word and for so long has been a taboo subject, something to be ashamed of, something to keep hidden from everyone around you lest you mark yourself as someone from whom everyone runs. I admit, I allowed this very belief to keep me entrapped in serious depression for years. Let me clarify, I am not talking about your everyday average type depression, you know, when someone whines about "Oh, I'm soooo depressed"...when really they are just having a bad day. I am talking about serious, deep, dark depression in which you lose yourself completely and don't know how to find your way out of it.
Why write about depression? Because I live through it, I have lived through it, and I will continue to live through it for my entire life, unless God decides to completely heal me. Also because I think so many people are afraid to address the issue. I write about it because when I was in the darkest part of my depression I couldn't see the fact, and yes I did say COULDN'T, see the fact that no matter how far down I went, I had a choice to allow depression to rule my life. I regret that it took me so long to see that very fact. I have a choice to allow depression to rule my life or to just be something that affects my life. No matter how depressed you get there is always a choice. It may be impossible to see, but it's there.
For me? It took me getting to the point where I was absolutely sick of myself. I couldn't stand being around me! And since I am stuck with myself I had to do something. I know some people out there don't believe in medication for depression, but I know for me, it was the right choice. When I started on my anti-depressants my life went from living in a world of black and white, to a world full of color. I started seeing possibilities, something I had not seen in a long time. I did it that way, went to medication first, but I kind of did it backwards. I have learned a lot.
If you have ever heard or learned anything about depression, then you have probably heard the phrase that "depression is anger turned inward". When I first heard that phrase it was yet another eye opener. I had been fighting off depression since about the time I was 15. I gave into depression around the time I was 25 and continued to give into it until I was about 34. A long time. What I realized, is even though I have a genetic, biological imbalance that will make depression a part of my life, and even though I was dealing with some circumstantial depression on top of that, a lot of the depression that I have complete control over is believing lies. Lies about myself. Lies that create self-hatred and self-loathing. That is where the choice comes in. There has to come a point in a persons life where they can either continue believing all the lies that say you are unworthy, unlovable, unacceptable etc...whatever your personal lies my be or they can choose to believe the truth. But it is more than just believing.
I grew up with a Christian background. I grew up reading the Bible and learning all of the "thee's and thou's" and trying to live a good life, but it meant NOTHING. It didn't really have an impact on me other than I thought I was a Christian. But it was doing nothing to help me out of my depression because despite my best efforts in my own eyes there was no way that I was acceptable to God, let alone loved. But I believe in my heart that God brought me to my knees. He brought me to a place where I had no where else to turn. I was estranged from my family, I really didn't have many if any close friends. My husband and I were not on very good terms and as a mother, I was barely hanging on. God does that, he will bring you to a place where it's just you and Him. I couldn't understand it then, but I am beginning to get it now.
This is where the choice comes in. In Philippians 4:8 Paul states " Friends, I'd say you'll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious-the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. (MSG).
Filling your minds and meditating on things TRUE. What is truth? Genesis 1:27 says "So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them." (NIV) That means ME!!!!! I like the MSG version of this verse to, it brings so much more imagery to my mind. "God created human beings; he created them godlike, Reflecting God's nature."
These verses, from Philippians and Genesis literally changed my life. No matter what lies I had believed in the past, I, Alicia was made in God's own image! I could choose to believe that as absolute truth, or I could choose to believe all of the lies that had kept me in the darkness of depression for so long. But it's more than just believing it, it's owning it, understanding what that means. For me? It means that if I am made in God's image, and God created me, then of course he has to love me. I could go into all the verses that tell us who we are in God, but then this blog would really be a lot longer and it's already more than I intended to write.
The verse in Philippians 4 is of utmost importance to someone who is depressed. Garbage in, garbage out is such a true saying but even more so of the depressed person in my opinion. When you suffer from depression like I did, it's based on lies, lies about yourself, lies about your life. For me, I have had to surround myself with truth. Reading my Bible, listening to the Bible, reading books about the Bible and Bible studies. Listening to lessons from such teachers as Chip Ingram, Beth Moore, Joyce Meyer, basically ensconcing myself in truth and reprogramming my mind. For me it is a daily struggle, my medication is important, but just as important is what I choose to surround myself with. I have learned that I have to invite into every single little part of my life at every single minute of my day just to get by. Some days are much harder than others. I am learning to accept this part of myself as who God made me. I don't like it, but it is who I am. I pray for complete healing, but sometimes I wonder if that would be in my best interest. I am in a place where complete dependency on God is necessary. I'm not sure if I would be as dependent on Him, if I didn't have to be.
My last point going back to "make your bed". It's a routine. I have discovered that for myself routine is key! It keeps me from getting overwhelmed and shutting down, which is when I tend to start going down. Making my bed was the beginning of a routine. Balance, when you have a routine is achievable. As Joyce Meyer said in one of her lessons..."Balance is doing a little of everything, but not too much of anything". Boy, did that little quote do a lot to change my perspective on balance and start to understand it a little more.
What I have learned throughout my whole depression experience is that I can choose to believe truth or not. I can choose to stay submerged in truth and ensconced in God's words, and I can choose to make my bed and stay on a routine, and I can choose to try and be balanced. Sometimes I have to ask God for the strength just to make my bed, but I KNOW though from experience that by doing all of those things and most of all depending on God to give me strength and wisdom to do all those things, my life is so much better!!!!! Am I perfect in this endeavor? Not by a long shot, there are days when temptation is so strong to stay in bed and not deal, and I admit days when I give in too. Will I ever be perfect at it? Probably not in this lifetime. But it's a day by day, minute by minute process. Maybe one day God will heal me completely and I won't have to work so hard at it. Then again maybe He won't. All I know is that right now, complete dependency on Him and truth is what I have, and it is ENOUGH.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Be Careful What You Pray For...You Just Might Find Yourself In A Battle!
So, my last post "Be Careful What You Pray For", wasn't as clear as I had wanted it to be. I could have said so much more that would have pertained to the title. However, yesterday I learned a lesson that completely explains that title, and the add on for today "You Just Might Find Yourself Fighting A Battle."
My oldest son Ethan has ADHD, and depressive disorder. He has been on medication for several years now and we have had a lot of battles with him. Just when we think we've gotten something under control we end up having other problems. We have gone through agencies and had workers and case managers and people coming to help him in school and group therapy and social groups to help him get to where he is today. I am very proud of the progress he has made. I am so happy that I am not being called every other day of having him getting suspended from school every other week. In fact, he has not been suspended once this year which is a huge milestone for him. I am reminded that I need to express to him how proud of him I am as I am writing this.
I like to read books on the Bible, Christianity, prayer. Beth Moore is one of my favorites, Chip Ingram, Patsy Clairmont, "The Shack" had an amazing impact on my life. But the point of this post comes from one of my books written by Stormie Omartian. I have her books "The Power of the Praying Wife", "The Power of the Praying Woman", and "The Power of the Praying Parent". Now I have to admit, I have never read any of the books straight through. I tend to pick and choose the chapters based on what kind of prayers I am looking for. Sometimes I use her prayers straight from the book, writing them down in my prayer journal or speaking them out-loud. Sometimes I use portions of them that specifically pertain to a situation I am dealing with at them time, or other times I just use what I can remember when I am deep in prayer and praying everything that comes to my mind. This is what happened to me yesterday. In her book, "The Power of the Praying Parent", Stormie has a chapter specifically addressing rebellion. As I was driving home from dropping Rick off at work and I was speaking my prayers out loud (I must look crazy as I am always talking to myself while I drive and I am alone in the car), I spoke the phrase "God, if there is any rebellion in my child please reveal it to me so that it can be dealt with and squelched now and give me the wisdom to deal with it". I don't know why I prayed that particular phrase in that moment, I didn't even give it a second thought at the time. Maybe if I had I would not have been so flippant to praying it. Because when the Lord answers a prayer, sometimes he REALLY answers a prayer!!! As was the case yesterday.
At 11:00 a.m. every morning I go to the school to pick up my son Drew from Pre-K. Then we make our way to the cafeteria to eat lunch with Jenna, and we usually stop in Ethan's classroom to check up on him for the day. Yesterday we stuck to the routine and when we got to Ethan's class his one teacher was there, (he has two and one was absent for the day), and as per usual I asked her how his day was going. To which I was told he was having a rough day.
Ethan has a hat, a Stewie hat for any Family Guy Fans out there, not that he is allowed to watch the show. He has seen a couple of episodes and only the ones his dad and I deem appropriate. However he had been begging for a hat and this one was on sale and so after months and months we finally relented and let him get the Stewie hat. And he wears it everywhere. When he took it off in the gym in the morning while they were doing their walking after breakfast someone picked it up. He was very angry and upset about that. He was asking a couple of teachers if he could go through some of the other students' belongings to find his had and so that "he would know who to beat the crap out of". That being a threat. He issued this threat several times. He ended up calling one of his teachers a disrespectful name and then to top off the behavior issues, he was refusing to do his schoolwork in class and was floating around the classroom ignoring all instructions of what he was supposed to be doing.
I calmly listened to what his teacher was saying and I was trying to figure out how to deal with this issue. I was a little frustrated that there hadn't already been any consequences to his bad behavior already, but then I remembered something. The last time he called a teacher a name or got angry and slammed stuff around, I had gone to the principal and his teacher and requested if he did that again he be sent straight to ISS. In School Suspension. I brought this up with his teacher and she agreed and said that that was fine with her. I went to the school office to speak with the principal to find out he was out of the office for the day, so I went to the ISS teacher herself. I told her of the situation and she agreed to keep the arrangement I had with Ethan's teacher and the principal and we went to go get Ethan who was in gym.
Once Ethan was informed of what was going to happen to him, he got extremely angry and out of control. The details are of little consequence, but to make a long story short, items were thrown, things were knocked over, things were punched, words were screamed and names were called to anyone and everyone who was in his path, including classmates and all innocent bystanders. At one point I took his face in my hands and told him very firmly that he WOULD walk to the ISS room and he WOULD do what was instructed and he WOULD complete all the work he had refused to do.
We got him to the ISS room and the behavior continued, culminating in "I'm getting sent to ISS by my MOM, I HATE HER, I freaking hate her", with more name calling of me and more "I hate hers", until the ISS teacher came to me and reassured me that they had everything under control and that he would be fine. I expressed to her that I felt bad for doing this to him by enforcing the rules the principal and his teacher and I had set for him, and she told me again that I was doing the right thing.
I left and headed to the cafeteria where it was all I could do to keep it together. I know kids tell their parents they hate them, I know he has expressed it about me before but always out of my ear shot, but I have never heard it out of his mouth myself, and my heart was broken. During this time I had several people come up to me and support my decision to stick to my guns and implement the rules that I had set for him. Which helped little to heal my wounded heart. I was weary and scarred. I came home and asked God to just let me rest.
When Ethan got home from school I called him to my room and the first words out of his mouth were "I didn't mean it mom, I don't hate you". Then he proceeded to tell me that he had finished almost all of the work he had refused to do in the morning and that he would be going back to his regular class in the morning. As pleased as I was, I was still weary and battle worn. It wasn't until later that night that I remembered what I had prayed that morning and it hit me like a slap in the face. God had answered my prayer in a very specific way! Not only had he revealed my sons rebelliousness, but he had given me the grace and wisdom to deal with it. There had not been a point in which I got frustrated or exasperated or angry with him during his entire loss of control. I knew that I had to stick to the rules and expectations that I had set up with his teacher and principal, I stuck to my guns and followed through and I did it with calmness and strength. This was NOT of me. This was very specific answer to prayer! Despite how weary I was, how heartbroken I had been I was able to praise God for giving me such an obvious answer to prayer!
This morning when I went to check in on his day, I was told that he had gone to class and apologized to his teacher all on his own, that he had sat quietly at his desk, completed his work and had no problems!! I was so glad to hear it! It was one battle that was won. Will there be others? Most definitely! Will I be so quick to pray a prayer like that again? I hope not! Will I? Probably, but hopefully only when I feel up to the challenge.
"But in EVERYTHING, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God"
Phillipians 4:6 NIV 1984
"I prayed for this child, and the Lord gave me what I asked for"
1 Sam. 1:27 MS
My oldest son Ethan has ADHD, and depressive disorder. He has been on medication for several years now and we have had a lot of battles with him. Just when we think we've gotten something under control we end up having other problems. We have gone through agencies and had workers and case managers and people coming to help him in school and group therapy and social groups to help him get to where he is today. I am very proud of the progress he has made. I am so happy that I am not being called every other day of having him getting suspended from school every other week. In fact, he has not been suspended once this year which is a huge milestone for him. I am reminded that I need to express to him how proud of him I am as I am writing this.
I like to read books on the Bible, Christianity, prayer. Beth Moore is one of my favorites, Chip Ingram, Patsy Clairmont, "The Shack" had an amazing impact on my life. But the point of this post comes from one of my books written by Stormie Omartian. I have her books "The Power of the Praying Wife", "The Power of the Praying Woman", and "The Power of the Praying Parent". Now I have to admit, I have never read any of the books straight through. I tend to pick and choose the chapters based on what kind of prayers I am looking for. Sometimes I use her prayers straight from the book, writing them down in my prayer journal or speaking them out-loud. Sometimes I use portions of them that specifically pertain to a situation I am dealing with at them time, or other times I just use what I can remember when I am deep in prayer and praying everything that comes to my mind. This is what happened to me yesterday. In her book, "The Power of the Praying Parent", Stormie has a chapter specifically addressing rebellion. As I was driving home from dropping Rick off at work and I was speaking my prayers out loud (I must look crazy as I am always talking to myself while I drive and I am alone in the car), I spoke the phrase "God, if there is any rebellion in my child please reveal it to me so that it can be dealt with and squelched now and give me the wisdom to deal with it". I don't know why I prayed that particular phrase in that moment, I didn't even give it a second thought at the time. Maybe if I had I would not have been so flippant to praying it. Because when the Lord answers a prayer, sometimes he REALLY answers a prayer!!! As was the case yesterday.
At 11:00 a.m. every morning I go to the school to pick up my son Drew from Pre-K. Then we make our way to the cafeteria to eat lunch with Jenna, and we usually stop in Ethan's classroom to check up on him for the day. Yesterday we stuck to the routine and when we got to Ethan's class his one teacher was there, (he has two and one was absent for the day), and as per usual I asked her how his day was going. To which I was told he was having a rough day.
Ethan has a hat, a Stewie hat for any Family Guy Fans out there, not that he is allowed to watch the show. He has seen a couple of episodes and only the ones his dad and I deem appropriate. However he had been begging for a hat and this one was on sale and so after months and months we finally relented and let him get the Stewie hat. And he wears it everywhere. When he took it off in the gym in the morning while they were doing their walking after breakfast someone picked it up. He was very angry and upset about that. He was asking a couple of teachers if he could go through some of the other students' belongings to find his had and so that "he would know who to beat the crap out of". That being a threat. He issued this threat several times. He ended up calling one of his teachers a disrespectful name and then to top off the behavior issues, he was refusing to do his schoolwork in class and was floating around the classroom ignoring all instructions of what he was supposed to be doing.
I calmly listened to what his teacher was saying and I was trying to figure out how to deal with this issue. I was a little frustrated that there hadn't already been any consequences to his bad behavior already, but then I remembered something. The last time he called a teacher a name or got angry and slammed stuff around, I had gone to the principal and his teacher and requested if he did that again he be sent straight to ISS. In School Suspension. I brought this up with his teacher and she agreed and said that that was fine with her. I went to the school office to speak with the principal to find out he was out of the office for the day, so I went to the ISS teacher herself. I told her of the situation and she agreed to keep the arrangement I had with Ethan's teacher and the principal and we went to go get Ethan who was in gym.
Once Ethan was informed of what was going to happen to him, he got extremely angry and out of control. The details are of little consequence, but to make a long story short, items were thrown, things were knocked over, things were punched, words were screamed and names were called to anyone and everyone who was in his path, including classmates and all innocent bystanders. At one point I took his face in my hands and told him very firmly that he WOULD walk to the ISS room and he WOULD do what was instructed and he WOULD complete all the work he had refused to do.
We got him to the ISS room and the behavior continued, culminating in "I'm getting sent to ISS by my MOM, I HATE HER, I freaking hate her", with more name calling of me and more "I hate hers", until the ISS teacher came to me and reassured me that they had everything under control and that he would be fine. I expressed to her that I felt bad for doing this to him by enforcing the rules the principal and his teacher and I had set for him, and she told me again that I was doing the right thing.
I left and headed to the cafeteria where it was all I could do to keep it together. I know kids tell their parents they hate them, I know he has expressed it about me before but always out of my ear shot, but I have never heard it out of his mouth myself, and my heart was broken. During this time I had several people come up to me and support my decision to stick to my guns and implement the rules that I had set for him. Which helped little to heal my wounded heart. I was weary and scarred. I came home and asked God to just let me rest.
When Ethan got home from school I called him to my room and the first words out of his mouth were "I didn't mean it mom, I don't hate you". Then he proceeded to tell me that he had finished almost all of the work he had refused to do in the morning and that he would be going back to his regular class in the morning. As pleased as I was, I was still weary and battle worn. It wasn't until later that night that I remembered what I had prayed that morning and it hit me like a slap in the face. God had answered my prayer in a very specific way! Not only had he revealed my sons rebelliousness, but he had given me the grace and wisdom to deal with it. There had not been a point in which I got frustrated or exasperated or angry with him during his entire loss of control. I knew that I had to stick to the rules and expectations that I had set up with his teacher and principal, I stuck to my guns and followed through and I did it with calmness and strength. This was NOT of me. This was very specific answer to prayer! Despite how weary I was, how heartbroken I had been I was able to praise God for giving me such an obvious answer to prayer!
This morning when I went to check in on his day, I was told that he had gone to class and apologized to his teacher all on his own, that he had sat quietly at his desk, completed his work and had no problems!! I was so glad to hear it! It was one battle that was won. Will there be others? Most definitely! Will I be so quick to pray a prayer like that again? I hope not! Will I? Probably, but hopefully only when I feel up to the challenge.
"But in EVERYTHING, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God"
Phillipians 4:6 NIV 1984
"I prayed for this child, and the Lord gave me what I asked for"
1 Sam. 1:27 MS
Monday, November 14, 2011
Be Careful What You Pray For...
I have been thinking about this blog a lot the past few days. I'm not sure how long it will take me to publish it, but it's been on my mind for awhile. There have been so many changes going on in my life personally and spiritually.
Prayer has been a major part of my life for the past several years. In fact, I have kept a prayer journal off and on for almost 15 years. I have periods in my life where I depend on it, I have periods of my life where I forget about it and neglect it. The past couple of years I have come to depend on my time spent in prayer more and more. As I think back on all of my old journals I can see the change within me and my relationship with God. When I first started writing in them, I was angry and questioning God at every turn. Most of my prayers were of blaming others and questioning my existence and wanting to know why I had been dealt the hand I was living. Later on I was going through periods of forgiveness and trying to get over my past and trying to be obedient so that I wasn't trapped in a life full of pain and anger and depression. I have at times gone through phases where I have felt so ensconced by God in my prayers that I couldn't help but pray and petition Him constantly. I have gone through phases where even in my prayers the distance between God and myself was painful.
Over the last 2 or 3 years my prayer life has grown substantially. Over the last year my prayers have changed. Over the last few months my prayers have evolved into something even more. Looking back, I have gone from being an anger filled, depressed person constantly questioning God and my existence, to learning to love God and accept how my life has gone. This process has taken years. But never have I experienced the power and seen the answers in prayer so much as when I started to ask God to change me, and to fill me with passion for Him. Every day as my passion for Him grows, my perspective on life changes. I started praying for other people. I started putting more and more of my trust in Him and then instead of asking Him to just change me, I started asking Him to teach me instead. And He has...but the biggest change of all, was when I reached the point in my prayers where I could say "I am here, what do you want me to do for You?". I am finding that when you reach that point in your prayer life, not only do you receive even greater answer to your petitions whatever they may be, but when you are willing to tell God that you will do what he wants you to do, He takes you places and puts desires in your heart that you had never had before. He puts plans in your mind that you would have never considered otherwise.
It IS a daring prayer. I have heard people speak about praying for what God wants them to do. I have heard people pray it before. But I had never prayed it myself until the last few months. Maybe the reason was I knew that if I were daring enough to pray such a prayer I had better be willing to back it up. Maybe I hadn't had enough trust in God before to think that He would know what He was doing. But what I am beginning to deeply understand in a way I have never understood before is that is where He wants us to be, that is what He means by dying to ourselves. When we die to ourselves we should be able to be where we can say "God what would You have me do?"
Unfortunately for me, despite growing up in church, spending years listening to preachers, speakers, teachers, reading books, reading my Bible, memorizing scripture, I never understood that until now, and now that I do, I feel as if I have missed out and wasted so much of my life. Now I find that I never want to be out of that will that comes from Him. I WANT to do what He wants me to because it is more freeing to be in His will than it is to live in my own emotions and desires.
I have such a long road to travel in this journey. I have so much to learn and even more to understand. I make many mistakes daily, and will make many more, but I pray that God will use me how He sees fit and that I will have the strength and courage to do what He asks of me from here on out, for I never want to leave His side again, and because he has saved me from so much misery I can only live my life doing what He wills. I see no other way.
Saturday, November 12, 2011
This is the post that spurned me into starting an official blog page. I wrote it on Sunday Nov. 6. It was an awesome weekend that weekend. I had just come home from Women of Faith the day before, and our Sunday School class was very excitable that day. I love learning about and being in the presence of the Lord!
I was in my Sunday school class on Sunday morning and we were talking about the things that might separate us from God, not in the specific sin factor, but in the forgetfulness aspect. And I had a vision of what that might look like to me that helped me understand, and then later on I saw even more of what that would mean to me.
I saw a person climbing a mountain with a big huge pack on their back. This person was so determined to make it on his own. He’s climbing up this steep trail that is covered with rocks and brambles, and the more tired and exhausted he gets, the bigger the load on his back. For me, this person was completely aware of Jesus walking right beside him, asking him to let him help carry the load. In his stubbornness this man kept refusing. He said “I can do this on my own, I can carry my own load”. As he gets farther and farther up the trail and the mountain gets steeper and rougher the man is stumbling and falling over and over again, but still gets up to continue his journey all the while refusing the help of the man walking next to him. Jesus does have a load on his back, but his is a nice light little backpack that the man does not notice. Finally the man stumbles and falls to the ground and as hard as he tries, he just can’t get up again. He is exhausted beyond measure. Jesus asks him again if he can help by carrying the load, but a trade. The man in his exhaustion says yes, that Jesus can carry his burden, his pack, his load, but is so tired he doesn’t take Jesus’s bag. He continues up the mountain this time unburdened by his own load, but still getting tired. Jesus asks him again if he would like to take his bag and carry it with him. Again the man refuses. They continue and the man is so grateful to Jesus for taking his burden from him, and yet won’t take the gift bag that Jesus is offering. He doesn’t realize what is in the bag, even though he has freed himself from his own burden, he is still trying to make it on his own. Finally he sits down, and says to Jesus “I just don’t understand, I have given you my burden, you have taken my load upon yourself and my progress is still not what I want it to be.” And Jesus says to him, “that is because you haven’t taken what I have offered. You thought that by giving your burdens to me that would solve all your problems, but yet you refused to take the gift that was offered at the same time because you didn’t understand it. I ask you again, will you take up my bag and carry it with you”. With a reluctance and a sigh the man agrees to take the bag that Jesus has. He asks Jesus “What is in this bag and why is it so light?” Jesus says to him “it is the sustenance you need to continue your journey. You see, I can take your cares and your burdens and carry them, but unless you stop to take the sustenance you need to continue your journey you will still continue to tire and struggle easily. Yes, the road is hard and narrow and there will be challenges, but you need the sustenance to go on. Open my bag.”
The man bends down to look at the tiny pack. He picks it up and opens it. And as he does a light gleams from the inside of the bag onto his face. He immediately starts to feel some of his strength returning to him. One by one, he starts to take the gifts Jesus has given him out of the bag. The first gift was love. The love that Jesus had for him by dying on the cross so that he could make the journey in the first place. The Holy Spirit who would fill him with the fruit needed to be strong and be able to enjoy the journey. His words that would give him encouragement and wisdom on the way. Armor to protect him against the elements and attacks. And lastly a cross, a point to focus on and remember why he was making this journey in the first place to give him strength when he was ready to give up, to remind him of the love that was there for him.
As the man took and looked at each of the gifts, he was amazed that so much could fit in such a small space, be so light and yet provide so much that was needed to finish his journey up the mountain.
So many times, I am so guilty of giving my burdens and cares to Jesus, but I don’t accept what he has given in return…at least not completely. Unworthiness keeps me from accepting his love. Pride keeps me from accepting the Holy Spirit because I think I can bear that fruit on my own. Foolishness keeps me from accepting His Words. Fear keeps me from accepting his armor because I don’t trust that even with it I will be able to fight the battle. And as for the cross, believing in it’s purpose is one thing, but remembering to use it and focus on it is quite another.
What made me think of this story or have this vision? Matthew 11:30. We spend so much of the time on Matthew 11:28 and I quote: ”28 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” , that at least for me I don’t pay attention to the rest of the phrase. “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
He tells me to take his yoke upon me. So as I am casting all my cares and burdens on him, I have to take his yoke from him. A trade of sorts, but certainly not an easy one. Jesus gets the raw end of the deal, but I forget to take his yoke which is a gift. His yoke is easy and light. Mine is heavy and burdened. His yoke is easy and light because it IS light!!! It IS love!!! It IS the gift of the Holy Spirit, it is wisdom, and grace and peace and joy, and most of all…it is mercy.
And that gives me the everything I need to continue on this journey. Will it be easy? No, of course not, at times it might even be excruciating. But as long as I am carrying all of the gifts that Jesus gave me I will have what I need to make it.
I was in my Sunday school class on Sunday morning and we were talking about the things that might separate us from God, not in the specific sin factor, but in the forgetfulness aspect. And I had a vision of what that might look like to me that helped me understand, and then later on I saw even more of what that would mean to me.
I saw a person climbing a mountain with a big huge pack on their back. This person was so determined to make it on his own. He’s climbing up this steep trail that is covered with rocks and brambles, and the more tired and exhausted he gets, the bigger the load on his back. For me, this person was completely aware of Jesus walking right beside him, asking him to let him help carry the load. In his stubbornness this man kept refusing. He said “I can do this on my own, I can carry my own load”. As he gets farther and farther up the trail and the mountain gets steeper and rougher the man is stumbling and falling over and over again, but still gets up to continue his journey all the while refusing the help of the man walking next to him. Jesus does have a load on his back, but his is a nice light little backpack that the man does not notice. Finally the man stumbles and falls to the ground and as hard as he tries, he just can’t get up again. He is exhausted beyond measure. Jesus asks him again if he can help by carrying the load, but a trade. The man in his exhaustion says yes, that Jesus can carry his burden, his pack, his load, but is so tired he doesn’t take Jesus’s bag. He continues up the mountain this time unburdened by his own load, but still getting tired. Jesus asks him again if he would like to take his bag and carry it with him. Again the man refuses. They continue and the man is so grateful to Jesus for taking his burden from him, and yet won’t take the gift bag that Jesus is offering. He doesn’t realize what is in the bag, even though he has freed himself from his own burden, he is still trying to make it on his own. Finally he sits down, and says to Jesus “I just don’t understand, I have given you my burden, you have taken my load upon yourself and my progress is still not what I want it to be.” And Jesus says to him, “that is because you haven’t taken what I have offered. You thought that by giving your burdens to me that would solve all your problems, but yet you refused to take the gift that was offered at the same time because you didn’t understand it. I ask you again, will you take up my bag and carry it with you”. With a reluctance and a sigh the man agrees to take the bag that Jesus has. He asks Jesus “What is in this bag and why is it so light?” Jesus says to him “it is the sustenance you need to continue your journey. You see, I can take your cares and your burdens and carry them, but unless you stop to take the sustenance you need to continue your journey you will still continue to tire and struggle easily. Yes, the road is hard and narrow and there will be challenges, but you need the sustenance to go on. Open my bag.”
The man bends down to look at the tiny pack. He picks it up and opens it. And as he does a light gleams from the inside of the bag onto his face. He immediately starts to feel some of his strength returning to him. One by one, he starts to take the gifts Jesus has given him out of the bag. The first gift was love. The love that Jesus had for him by dying on the cross so that he could make the journey in the first place. The Holy Spirit who would fill him with the fruit needed to be strong and be able to enjoy the journey. His words that would give him encouragement and wisdom on the way. Armor to protect him against the elements and attacks. And lastly a cross, a point to focus on and remember why he was making this journey in the first place to give him strength when he was ready to give up, to remind him of the love that was there for him.
As the man took and looked at each of the gifts, he was amazed that so much could fit in such a small space, be so light and yet provide so much that was needed to finish his journey up the mountain.
So many times, I am so guilty of giving my burdens and cares to Jesus, but I don’t accept what he has given in return…at least not completely. Unworthiness keeps me from accepting his love. Pride keeps me from accepting the Holy Spirit because I think I can bear that fruit on my own. Foolishness keeps me from accepting His Words. Fear keeps me from accepting his armor because I don’t trust that even with it I will be able to fight the battle. And as for the cross, believing in it’s purpose is one thing, but remembering to use it and focus on it is quite another.
What made me think of this story or have this vision? Matthew 11:30. We spend so much of the time on Matthew 11:28 and I quote: ”28 "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” , that at least for me I don’t pay attention to the rest of the phrase. “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.30 For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
He tells me to take his yoke upon me. So as I am casting all my cares and burdens on him, I have to take his yoke from him. A trade of sorts, but certainly not an easy one. Jesus gets the raw end of the deal, but I forget to take his yoke which is a gift. His yoke is easy and light. Mine is heavy and burdened. His yoke is easy and light because it IS light!!! It IS love!!! It IS the gift of the Holy Spirit, it is wisdom, and grace and peace and joy, and most of all…it is mercy.
And that gives me the everything I need to continue on this journey. Will it be easy? No, of course not, at times it might even be excruciating. But as long as I am carrying all of the gifts that Jesus gave me I will have what I need to make it.
First Days and Other Musings
This is a blog that I wrote back in my Myspace days. It was written on Sept 6, 2006 on my eldest son Ethan's first day of school. It is probably the only thing worth reading on my old blog, but it was also one of my absolute favorites. I always new if I were to start an official blog that I would share this one again. It brings back so many memories as Ethan is now in the 5th grade!!! We have come such a long way with 3 other children following him into their school lives, but none is as momentous as your first child's first day at school. I am glad that I wrote of that account in my life.
First days, new things.....a reminder of how life is always changing, even when it would seem that it isn't. Yesterday was my oldest child's first day at school. Kindergarten. We walked him to the bus stop, put him on the bus, and then immediately got in the van and drove to his school to watch him get off the bus. After which I remembered I forgot the nametag that the teacher had sent home with him, and the paperwork that I was supposed to fill out. So we went home to get that stuff. It all seemed so important. But my husband looks over and says to me "it'll be an excuse to go see him." So into the school we went, 2 younger siblings in tow. I expected to see chaos when we arrived at the door of the classroom and was suprised to find a quiet class, all seated performing various activities. I was also surprised to find the hallway filled with anxious parents all attempting to peer into the classrooms without letting their children know they were there. I was shocked that one woman actually told the teacher she just wanted to sneak pictures of her son at school on the first day and that was the only reason she was there. Geez, at least my reason was good, I forgot to give my son his nametag...it was important....wasn't it? The teacher was in the process of making those students who "forgot" their name tags new ones....so I guess it really wasn't all that important. First days....the first day that my son was away from me, out in the world on his own in 5 and a half years. The first day that he stepped onto a big bus, by himself, went to school by himself, made it to his classroom, by himself, and didn't need me. In so many ways I have longed for this day. Thinking about how much easier my life at home would be once my over energetic, lack of impulse control child was gone for part of the day...and what did I feel? The overwhelming sense of urgency to burst into tears...bawl my eyes out like a little baby. Had I prepared him enough for this? More importantly, could I survive this? My son, who can't seem to hear a single word that I say, and who questions my every request, was sitting at a desk quietly, building a tower as tall as he could with blocks. And wonder of all wonders, he had a question....he RAISED HIS HAND AND SAT QUIETLY until the teacher came to his side. No temper tantrums here, no calling out for attention. I was so proud and moved. Maybe he would be o.k. in this new world called kindergarten....maybe he did get something from all my husband and I have been trying to teach him....or...maybe he just felt that finally he was in a place where he could thrive and be challenged to do something different. Who knows how long this will last. The first day for me to realize that if it is this hard when my first-born leaves and goes to school, how strong will the bitter be, with the sweet, when they are all gone. When all of them are in school, when they leave for (hopefully :-) ) college? Move out? Get married. I never, never understood the meaning of bittersweet as well as I do on this day. The sweetness of seeing something of mine start to grow and blossom, and the bitterness of knowing that I am being left behind and getting older, and newness and new things are going to start fading away. Oh I still have plenty of them ahead of me for now....but still....if only I could look back and remember my first day at school. New days....first days.....they are rare in life, but bring so much pain and joy. If only every day could be lived and felt like this day. (yesterday). When we thought that it was about time for the bus to drop him off at home, we took chairs and sat outside waiting for what seemed to be forever....and finally there he was, unscathed, coming off the bus running towards us "Mommy, Daddy", and throwing himself at us and hugging us for a long time. "How was your first day at school?" I asked, "It was great....did you miss me?" Oh, if only he knew. I now understand what being a parent is like. For everytime that child of mine, and every child thereafter walks out that door, they will take a piece of me with them....and I won't feel whole until they return back home. Does it get easier? I sure hope it does, because one day he is going to need to move and be an adult....and I can't feel this way forever. And then there are those days....when that is all I pray for. But for now....I hope this feeling lasts....at least for awhile.
As I go back and re-read this post, I am deeply moved. We have definitely had our challenges. My sons issues at school started soon after I originally wrote this. He was officially diagnosed with ADHD followed by Depressive Disorder. We have had suspensions, dealt with meetings with teachers, counselors, Principals, and ended up going through state agencies who would provide supportive care for him in school and out. I am so glad that we did it though. It has been a long road since that first day and we are barely half-way through the journey. But I am proud to say he is back to being on his own in school. No more workers coming to sit with him in class, no more groups to help him socialize with others without losing control. His medication is working well, and he is well covered in prayer. Everyone who comes in contact with him tells me what an awesome kid he is with a great personality and this I know. He is so very smart and caring, and I am so proud to call him my son.
There are days when we struggle and I wonder if I have made a difference in his life, and then I hear from others of comments he's made about how his mom loves him, or how he likes to help others by holding doors for them and carrying heavy loads. And I think "maybe". Time will tell. Prayers will help.
Firsts. There will be more. First day of middle school which comes next year. First day of high school. First time driving. first date...so many firsts. One day he will experience these days, not as his own firsts, but with his own children. I hope he can see what I have seen and understand the significance of it all. To learn of the bitter and the sweet. To see the beauty in it. To learn to cherish it.
I, will continue to look for the firsts, middles, and lasts...he is my son, and I have 3 more children to go through all those days. I hope that I can remember and learn to cherish them as much as I did that one day and to teach them all the special times that life can bring, no matter how insignificant they may seem!
First days, new things.....a reminder of how life is always changing, even when it would seem that it isn't. Yesterday was my oldest child's first day at school. Kindergarten. We walked him to the bus stop, put him on the bus, and then immediately got in the van and drove to his school to watch him get off the bus. After which I remembered I forgot the nametag that the teacher had sent home with him, and the paperwork that I was supposed to fill out. So we went home to get that stuff. It all seemed so important. But my husband looks over and says to me "it'll be an excuse to go see him." So into the school we went, 2 younger siblings in tow. I expected to see chaos when we arrived at the door of the classroom and was suprised to find a quiet class, all seated performing various activities. I was also surprised to find the hallway filled with anxious parents all attempting to peer into the classrooms without letting their children know they were there. I was shocked that one woman actually told the teacher she just wanted to sneak pictures of her son at school on the first day and that was the only reason she was there. Geez, at least my reason was good, I forgot to give my son his nametag...it was important....wasn't it? The teacher was in the process of making those students who "forgot" their name tags new ones....so I guess it really wasn't all that important. First days....the first day that my son was away from me, out in the world on his own in 5 and a half years. The first day that he stepped onto a big bus, by himself, went to school by himself, made it to his classroom, by himself, and didn't need me. In so many ways I have longed for this day. Thinking about how much easier my life at home would be once my over energetic, lack of impulse control child was gone for part of the day...and what did I feel? The overwhelming sense of urgency to burst into tears...bawl my eyes out like a little baby. Had I prepared him enough for this? More importantly, could I survive this? My son, who can't seem to hear a single word that I say, and who questions my every request, was sitting at a desk quietly, building a tower as tall as he could with blocks. And wonder of all wonders, he had a question....he RAISED HIS HAND AND SAT QUIETLY until the teacher came to his side. No temper tantrums here, no calling out for attention. I was so proud and moved. Maybe he would be o.k. in this new world called kindergarten....maybe he did get something from all my husband and I have been trying to teach him....or...maybe he just felt that finally he was in a place where he could thrive and be challenged to do something different. Who knows how long this will last. The first day for me to realize that if it is this hard when my first-born leaves and goes to school, how strong will the bitter be, with the sweet, when they are all gone. When all of them are in school, when they leave for (hopefully :-) ) college? Move out? Get married. I never, never understood the meaning of bittersweet as well as I do on this day. The sweetness of seeing something of mine start to grow and blossom, and the bitterness of knowing that I am being left behind and getting older, and newness and new things are going to start fading away. Oh I still have plenty of them ahead of me for now....but still....if only I could look back and remember my first day at school. New days....first days.....they are rare in life, but bring so much pain and joy. If only every day could be lived and felt like this day. (yesterday). When we thought that it was about time for the bus to drop him off at home, we took chairs and sat outside waiting for what seemed to be forever....and finally there he was, unscathed, coming off the bus running towards us "Mommy, Daddy", and throwing himself at us and hugging us for a long time. "How was your first day at school?" I asked, "It was great....did you miss me?" Oh, if only he knew. I now understand what being a parent is like. For everytime that child of mine, and every child thereafter walks out that door, they will take a piece of me with them....and I won't feel whole until they return back home. Does it get easier? I sure hope it does, because one day he is going to need to move and be an adult....and I can't feel this way forever. And then there are those days....when that is all I pray for. But for now....I hope this feeling lasts....at least for awhile.
As I go back and re-read this post, I am deeply moved. We have definitely had our challenges. My sons issues at school started soon after I originally wrote this. He was officially diagnosed with ADHD followed by Depressive Disorder. We have had suspensions, dealt with meetings with teachers, counselors, Principals, and ended up going through state agencies who would provide supportive care for him in school and out. I am so glad that we did it though. It has been a long road since that first day and we are barely half-way through the journey. But I am proud to say he is back to being on his own in school. No more workers coming to sit with him in class, no more groups to help him socialize with others without losing control. His medication is working well, and he is well covered in prayer. Everyone who comes in contact with him tells me what an awesome kid he is with a great personality and this I know. He is so very smart and caring, and I am so proud to call him my son.
There are days when we struggle and I wonder if I have made a difference in his life, and then I hear from others of comments he's made about how his mom loves him, or how he likes to help others by holding doors for them and carrying heavy loads. And I think "maybe". Time will tell. Prayers will help.
Firsts. There will be more. First day of middle school which comes next year. First day of high school. First time driving. first date...so many firsts. One day he will experience these days, not as his own firsts, but with his own children. I hope he can see what I have seen and understand the significance of it all. To learn of the bitter and the sweet. To see the beauty in it. To learn to cherish it.
I, will continue to look for the firsts, middles, and lasts...he is my son, and I have 3 more children to go through all those days. I hope that I can remember and learn to cherish them as much as I did that one day and to teach them all the special times that life can bring, no matter how insignificant they may seem!
Noob
Well, after several years of debate, lots of thinking, some prompting from someone close to me and just a bit of desire, I have decided to start an official blog.
It's not that I haven't wanted to blog, or even haven't blogged before...Oh, I used to blog all of the time back in my Myspace days. Only now going back and thinking about it, I don't think that those blogs would be of interest to anyone nowadays, or even myself. Thinking about the differences between my life then and now, I'm not sure revisiting those days would be of any value to me or anyone else. LOL. Seasons of life!!! And believe me that was a season that would best be forgotten.
During my Myspace blogging or should I say ranting days, I discovered Facebook. It took me awhile to get into the whole Facebook thing, to really understand it, but eventually I got on the Facebook train and never looked back. Although I must admit there were times when I missed the blogging abilities of Myspace, the Notes section on Facebook just didn't seem the same.
So essentially it has been some time since I have officially "blogged", however I do like to put my thoughts down on paper...er, screen from time to time. I don't claim to write anything profound or to even pride myself into thinking that people would even care what I write about, think about or feel. But if you have stumbled upon this blog and care to take a peek go ahead. Maybe somehow the way I view the world that I live in or something I'm feeling for that day and time may strike a chord in you, maybe not. In any case, this blog has officially been started, hopefully I will continue, and maybe I will be able to inspire someone along the way. Only time will tell and God will use it how He sees fit.
So, signing off for today and praying and wishing everyone joy, peace and happiness as we move into the holidays...
It's not that I haven't wanted to blog, or even haven't blogged before...Oh, I used to blog all of the time back in my Myspace days. Only now going back and thinking about it, I don't think that those blogs would be of interest to anyone nowadays, or even myself. Thinking about the differences between my life then and now, I'm not sure revisiting those days would be of any value to me or anyone else. LOL. Seasons of life!!! And believe me that was a season that would best be forgotten.
During my Myspace blogging or should I say ranting days, I discovered Facebook. It took me awhile to get into the whole Facebook thing, to really understand it, but eventually I got on the Facebook train and never looked back. Although I must admit there were times when I missed the blogging abilities of Myspace, the Notes section on Facebook just didn't seem the same.
So essentially it has been some time since I have officially "blogged", however I do like to put my thoughts down on paper...er, screen from time to time. I don't claim to write anything profound or to even pride myself into thinking that people would even care what I write about, think about or feel. But if you have stumbled upon this blog and care to take a peek go ahead. Maybe somehow the way I view the world that I live in or something I'm feeling for that day and time may strike a chord in you, maybe not. In any case, this blog has officially been started, hopefully I will continue, and maybe I will be able to inspire someone along the way. Only time will tell and God will use it how He sees fit.
So, signing off for today and praying and wishing everyone joy, peace and happiness as we move into the holidays...
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