Recovering Hypocrite

Hi. My name is Carol. I'm a hypocrite. Hopefully, I'm recovering...

I'm running a great risk saying those words. I know that. Some of you might quit following the blog or unfriend me on facebook...but, I gotta say this.

Have you ever heard yourself speak words of life and truth into the life of a friend...only to feel convicted that you should apply them to your current situation or crisis? Yeah? Me too.

I love God. With all my heart. I want to follow Him with everything in me. I know truth. I want it to not only live in my head but to settle down and breathe life into my weary heart.

But there are days when I struggle to see truth. When hope seems far away. When my faith seems fatal.
It's usually those moments when God brings someone along who needs encouragement. And, I find myself speaking truth to them...life giving, amazing, hopeful truth. Only to leave the conversation and return to my discouragement.

I so long for my heart and my head to align themselves and in perfect time waltz through life. But, tonight, it seems like they are dancing to different songs. The noise drowns out the desperate cry of my soul. And, once again, I find myself here...frustrated.

Maybe, I'm the only one. But, at the slim chance that I'm not...

Hi, my name is Carol. I'm a recovering hypocrite. What's your name?

Rehab

I'm entering rehab. Not a physical place with counselors and restrictions, although I could.

I've been having some quiet moments with God over the last couple of weeks. Today, I felt impressed to list all of my areas of weakness. In order, to know the steps to take to solve the problem, you first have to admit that you have one. And I don't just have one. Nope. I filled a page of places where I go instead of where I should go. I don't want to. But it seems to be my default.

I was reading an author who has struggled with alcoholism and she said this: "When you try to hide or cover up your weakness, you are simply protecting your freedom to relapse."

My goodness. That's true. That's why I decided to write this post.

I need you to know that I am an approval addict. Just like an alcoholic that pours the last drop of liquor down the drain, I poured my heart out to my God over this issue. I want people to like and accept me. There's nothing wrong with that. But, when you allow it to consume you and become your goal, that's the problem. Most days I care more about what you think about me than what God thinks about me. This issue has led me down many a frustrating path to a place where never good enough and exhaustion collide. You would think I would learn after awhile. I am trying.

But, this week as I have reflected on the last year and looked with anticipation towards the New Year, it's been the one thing that I can't get out of my mind.

I'm on my way. I've taken the first step. And I'm not crazy enough to think that just deciding I want to change is enough. There will be moments when I will slip and fall. That's when I will need my 'sponsors' to come alongside, dust me off and help me get back on the right track.

So, I challenge you, as the year draws to an end, to make a list of your weaknesses. Then, if you are brave enough, join me on this rehab journey with God that promises to change us forever.

I would love to hear what you are in rehab for. If you can't share it publically by leaving a comment, feel free to email me at cantcookalick@msn.com. I promise to pray for you every step of the way.

Trimmed Wick

Have you ever watched a candle burn for an extended period of time? Probably not. But you know that when you extinguish the flame a black, limp wick droops sadly to one side and there awaits the next time when a flame approaches. If you don't keep the wick trimmed, the wick gets longer and causes the flame to dance wildly around and test the limits of its container. Not good if you are a candle.

But, tonight I watch and wonder.

It's a pondering time of year for me. When I look back at the days behind and hope for better in the days called future.

And I can't take my eyes off the wick.

Probably because the days that are behind me are reminding me of my relationship with my God.

I've had a flame burning in my heart for Jesus since I first met Him. Honestly, there have been seasons of time when it has burned brighter than others. But, it's never been extinguished. Safe. Measured. Controllable. But, still a flame.

Ouch.

In my conversation about God, you would hear the marks of a woman of faith. But in the secret place of my soul, I have wanted a God I could predict, manipulate, control. A God who didn't ask me to do crazy things or abandon my reputation for His will. Just like the wick. I wanted to keep Him trimmed. Close. Within my comfortable boundaries.

But, tonight as I watch a flame dance wildly around the perimeter of a jar, I wonder if this is the freedom that I have been longing for. Is this the place where I don't have to understand every circumstance but choose to simply trust Him because of who He says He is? Is this the adventure I have been missing?

I can't help but feel that the answer is yes as a gentle wind blows through and the flame sways from side to side.

My will burns away when I refuse to trim the wick and let God do His work. His wild, extravagant work that I cannot contain...

I'm ready. Are you?

Broken Ornament (Re-post)

I decorate with the end in mind. Not the "Oh my, how beautiful your house looks," end. I decorate with the "how long is it going to take me to put all this stuff away?" end. To say I am a minimalist decorater, would be accurate. Just enough to know it's Christmas, but not too much to worry with after the holiday is gone.

That is...until this year.

Seems that the Christmas spirit has descended upon my precious 3 year old and she thinks, if it is sitting still, it should have a bow or some tinsel draped around it. :) It's so much fun to watch her little eyes dance at the sight of twinkling lights. I even let her put up a purple Christmas tree in her bathroom.

Don't ask.

So, when it came to decorate the 'big' Christmas tree, of course she jumped right in. All of the ornaments are at 3ft. or below. And during the night, the ornaments seem to move into convenient little groups. It makes me smile. We have lost a few glass balls in the process. But, a small price to pay considering the joy that decorating has brought my little one. I took the broken ornaments and placed them back into the plastic container, thinking I would get rid of them at a later time. After my little elf was in the bed I sat sipping on some hot tea, remembering the fun we had shared when I noticed the broken ornaments.

But, I couldn't throw them away.

There, in the glow of the lights, I opened my Bible and listened as God taught me a thing or two about broken ornaments.

or·na·ment noun \ˈȯr-nə-mənt\ Definition of ORNAMENT 1archaic : a useful accessory 2a : something that lends grace or beauty b : a manner or quality that adorns

Seems a fitting definition. But, I still didn't understand what God had in mind. I am an ornament? Hang with me. I am a broken ornament. You ever feel that way?? Becasue of my brokenness, celebrating has been tough for me the last couple of years. God knew that. And so, no accident that I was staring at the broken ornaments and hearing from God.

Here is what he said:

1 - You were created to be broken. Since the beginning of time, we were created to be broken. God knew that we could never make it without Jesus. Our brokenness is the avenue that we come to know him.

2 - Displayed not discarded. In the world's economy, if it's broken, you throw it away. Not so in God's book. Brokenness is the very place where God shows off. Sarah Young in Jesus Calling, puts it this way: Jesus says: "Do not fear your weakness. It is the stage where My Power and Glory perform most brilliantly."

3 - I need a Savior. News flash! :) My brokenness reveals my deep need for a Savior. It's no mistake that His name will be called, "Wonderful Counselor"...cause I have days that are not wonderful. More days that I just need someone to talk to. There's a reason that His name is "Mighty God"...for those days when I don't know if I can put one foot in front of the other. "The Everlasting Father" when I need to know I am not alone. "Prince of Peace" in the midst of my choas. (see Is. 9:6)

So, this year, I will hang a broken ornament on my tree as a reminder to me that the brokenness I have experienced is just an ornament of His grace and glory. How about you?

Roots

Roots. They can anchor you and bind you.

If you need to be strong, you want your roots to grow deep. If you want to get to the root of the problem, you want them to let go easily and not hang on.

My roots seem to have it backwards. The ones that were meant to anchor me jerk out of the ground when the storm winds blow. While the ugly roots of my issues are buried deep and hang on when I desperately struggle against them.

The Master Gardener uses the tools necessary to unearth the roots that have attached themselves to unhealthy places. Painful but necessary. My soul resists and longs for the safety of dark, deep, comfortable soil. And, yet, He continues to carefully search to find that one place that can't release itself.

My anchoring roots, I want to grow and develop overnight. Yet the root of my problems has been developed and nurtured over a lifetime. Tended by me and fed by my own foolish pride. Creating a system of strong insecurity and paralyzingly fear.

This is not how it was intended to be. I know that in my heart. I want so desperately to be free to grow and anchored deep...yet the root of my problem continues to choke out any healthy growth at all.

Today, and many days ahead, I must decide which one I will choose to feed.

The Lazy Load

An interesting thing happens on my weekly trip to the grocery store.

As I pull into my carport, I feel the overwhelming desire to carry everything in one trip.

I don't know why. But, I line plastic bags, arm through the loop, until I can hardly stand. I must carry everything in one trip.

The plastic tugs my arm towards earth and I struggle and stumble across the threshold, dropping all the bags just to the right of the door.

And in some strange way, I feel a sense of pride. Pride that I don't have to make another trip. Pride that I've been able to drag all my culinary treasures and scatter them all across the linoluem. Bread squashed. Eggs broken. Can dented. But, I only made one trip. And the circulation in my right wrist will return in a couple of hours and all will be well.

I shared my one trip pride with the high school guy who bagged my groceries.

He said, "I call that the lazy load."

I carry a lazy emotional load.

I drag all of my issues and problems before God in hopes that I will make into His presence and scatter them all at His feet. He'll wave His magic wand and I will stand stright issue free and ready to change the world.

Yea. Right.

I feel God whispering to my heart.

"Lay dow your lazy load. Bring me those bad habits, nursed wounds, damaged emotions, broken promises. You can bring them all. But, know that YOU can only handle me dealing with them one at a time. Stop the struggling, stumbling, rushing to make it and rest in my sanctifying love that is working in you every day. It's ok to make more than one trip. That's why I want to meet with you everyday."

And now I see...there's more work to do...than I can handle in one day. And a God patient enough to love me through every trip.

Blindfolded

A child stands blindfolded...holding a broom handle...trying to sense where to swing next. The pinata sways just out of reach. Stance taken, broomstick drawn, then a swing and a hope to connect. But, the rush of air catches her best attempt.

At first, fun...adventurous.

After the third swing, frustrating...cumbersome.

The child, in aggravation, removes the blindfold, to see how close or far away she is from the target. Discouraged she never connected. Never hit the mark. No candy.

Some days, I see God so clearly. I know what He wants me to do. I feel His heartbeat and walk in step with Him.

Other days, I feel blindfolded. Like I am swinging in the dark at a target that is just out of reach.
Expending all of my energy at an attempt for the sweet reward of His presence. Trying, striving, reaching, swinging....

In frustration, I want to give up. I try to remove the blindfold to see how I missed something that comes so easily for others. I can't see you clearly. I feel as if the world has spun me around and asked me to swing for the moving target that is just out of reach. I stumble and weave, just trying to stand. They laugh and tell me 'their way.' I listen for a moment and then realize that it is taking me farther away from you.

So, I return to the quiet. I drop my weapons. Lose the will to fight, to swing, to strive. And you meet me there. Pouring out your presence and settling my soul.

It's Your peace that removes the veil. And now, I can see clearly once again.

"Not in trying, but in trusting...
Not in running, but in resting...
Not in wondering, but in praying...
That we find the strength of the Lord."
-Larnelle Harris