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Become Less Nuts! (Non-)Expert Psychotherapy For Free!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Last time, I told you everything I know about Psychotherapy. Here are five steps to summarize the previous post on fighting overwhelm based on my experience with Psychotherapy. (With any luck, these steps will also help us to become a little less nuts – The point of this post).

1. We slow down.

2. We quiet ourselves.

3. We come as we are, bringing our scattered emotions and lifting our situations to God.

4. We wait.

5. We listen. 

And as I did these things, using Psychotherapy’s EMT Tapping, which is just one other tool that can be used to help our thoughts slow down, Holy Spirit spoke to the quietness of my soul.

He said what I already knew, the thing I have counselled others to do, the obvious thing.

But it’s also something I don’t REALLY believe with my heart.

This reminds me of a story.

A man we knew started getting shaggier and shaggier over several months.

He had previously been an army-cut type, clean-shaven and with a buzzed coif. Lately, however, his hair, beard, eyebrows, and every part of him that had hair sprouted in a dishevelled way. When we could barely see his eyes anymore through his chaotic mane, we finally asked:

“Dude, what’s up with all the hair?”

“I’m going to cut my hair once I finally understand in my heart that Jesus loves me,” he responded, taking another bite of quiche at the church potluck.

And he did show up with 1/4” hair and no beard again one day a few years later.

What had happened in his heart?

Only he and Holy Spirit know.

But this was the kind of thing that God was wrestling with me about, in the quiet of my own brain, in the moments of rest that opened the door for me to explore His thoughts.

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest.”

Jesus the Christ (The guy 1/3 of the world claims to follow)

“Do you believe Me, yet?” Jesus was pleading.

He was holding out some scissors. Time for me, too, to chop off some metaphorical hair? Could I believe yet, in the dark of night what I so confidently asserted in the brightness of day?

Could my heart shout from the hilltops what my head already believed?

Can yours?

Jesus loves you.

Believe it?

We can trust Him more deeply, with even our most precious object, the one we hide behind our backs when He draws near.

Believe it?

If not, maybe it’s time for you to get some rest too.

In repentance and rest is your salvation,
    in quietness and trust is your strength

Ancient Text

When we have a few minutes, let’s try taking deep breaths, and exhaling our worries in a big pile for Jesus to pick up and carry away.

Then, let’s hold out our empty hands and ask Jesus what He wants us to carry close to our hearts this day.

Will I believe what He said to be true?

Will you?

If we do, we may find a little more love in our clenched hands, and we may find we have extra to give to the needy person we find along our path.

And we may even become less overwhelmed or act a bit less nuts.

That would be cool.

Anyway, you’re welcome!

Good luck!

Make Your Homeschooled Kid Look Like An Idiot So They Ace The SAT

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I was frothing at the mouth again, spewing words of dissent, grumbling to myself. My husband was sitting next to me in the car, waiting for my spaz to end. This tantrum was my regular 3-month routine.

I had gotten more report cards for my kids.

And I wasn’t happy.

Our kids excelled in some areas, according to these report cards. However, some of the grades reflected ME as a homeschool teacher more than my KIDS as students. I hadn’t been toeing the line again.

And my kids were getting the academic spanking.

However, if, as a homeschooling parent, we TRY to do every little thing that the school system asks, we will end up as blobs of discouragement, unable to get off the couch again. The system is designed for us to fail. As homeschooling parents, we must set sail in a new direction, slightly off-center from the true north the school system uses.

And so our kids may look like morons for a while.

For example, after I exited from the Canadian public school system in Grade 12, I had honor roll status and the coveted knowledge of about 200 years of European settler’s Canadian history, which had been drilled down my throat at least weekly for 12 years. I hadn’t realized that other countries had histories, too! And some of their histories were longer than 200 years!

So, I CHOSE to have my kids learn world history more often from a challenging, classically based curriculum.

Therefore, their Canadian social studies grades plummeted for a while.

However, their social studies grades were assigned assuming they hadn’t done ANY socials instead of reflecting that they hadn’t studied the EXACT socials curriculum recommended in that grade.

Whatever.

And it’s not just social studies that follow this pattern.

Our school systems are based on Greek methods of learning*, where we dissect learning down into thousands of pieces, and they divvy out hundreds of “goals” for a SPECIFIC age level to learn. Check out these PLOs (fancy word for goals) for Canadian students for each grade. Studied astronomy in Grade 4 when your kid was actually interested in it instead of in Grade 3? Zero on their report card.

And so I was frustrated.

We solved this little problem by not telling our kids what report cards were until high school. It’s surprising, in retrospect, how infrequently their public school friends mentioned report cards. So, our kids “skipped” viewing their report cards for about a decade.

After seeing their early report cards myself and having my little verbal spaz that my husband happened to be near enough to hear, I had a nice sugary iced latte (my therapy of choice), and then my husband and I talked about other things. This routine was just another homeschooling rhythm we observed. We didn’t have to discuss the details.

Years later, when our first child graduated from high school, she aced much of the SAT, an average score among her classically trained students. (The SAT is a standardized test taken by, generally the top 30% of academically achieving students. Yeah, I hadn’t heard of it either. I was public schooled, too.)

Dorothy Sayers wrote about this effect almost 80 years ago.

Classically trained children don’t do as well as other kids early on. They don’t have time to systematically jump through every hoop and complete every learning goal assigned to them. They are too busy learning to think.

Later on, they often do comparatively better academically than their peers.

Maybe encouraging our kids to read hard books** and then reading challenging books aloud really pays off in the long term.

And even though our kids LOOK like geeky academic superstars, we all know that academic prowess is not the PRIMARY goal for our homeschooled kids.

But if we do want their brains to flourish to their full potential, maybe encouraging them to look like idiots for a few years is not such a bad idea.

Sugary latte, anyone? (Sugar is one of my coping tactics to help me not follow the crowd. WEREN’T YOU LISTENING earlier in this post when I first mentioned my iced latte?! What? NOT EVERYONE listens to my every word? Oh well. I can feel a bit better about myself because at least my kids are smart.)

Sure, I’ll have a double caramel iced latte, too.

Thank you!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

Blogpost Footnotes

*Much has been written comparing the Greek and Hebrew educational philosophies. For a brief summary, check out this talk.

**My daughter is reading The War with Hannibal by Livy (circa 200 BC) as I write this. Hey! Flaunting ego is the path to true success, remember!

When Easter Is A Noisy Cymbal Clanging

/ Lori Lawe / 1 Comment

Sometimes we mess up holidays.

For example, once a stranger at the Dollar Store asked me if I thought there was something not-quite-right about Hallowe’en. (I asked if it was perhaps the sweet little kids combined with creepy maiming imagery that seems off? Or is it just me?)

Similarly, could the way that we do Easter be not-quite-right?

For example, take Easter egg hunts.

Besides the fact that kids are searching for poison in the form of sugar, they have already been accustomed to, after staring comatose at thousands of industry-funded ads over their short lifetimes, promoting dumping the white substance over their breakfast cereals, crackers and drinks, besides that.

Are Easter egg hunts harmless?

My daughter participated in an Easter egg hunt. Several of the bigger, stronger, and more self-obsessed kids pushed others to the ground to gorge themselves even more, slobbering chocolate over the smaller kids sitting nearby, who were crying because they didn’t find any eggs.

But we tolerate this.

Why? It’s likely because the self-obsessed kids won’t listen to us, either. “Come on, Jimmy, why don’t you give some of your eggs to Sally?” we plead.

But they have already been eaten.

Compare this to the Xhosa culture in South Africa.

Kids were told whoever got to the fruit tree first won the sweet fruits. They held hands and ran together. Then they sat in a circle and ate together.

“Why?” the westerners asked. “UBUNTU, how can one of us be happy if all the others are sad?” UBUNTU in the Xhosa culture means: “I am because we are.”

And we are in culture shock again.

What are we teaching our children at the Easter egg hunt? We are the ones setting culture. The children are merely living up to our expectations.

The whole congregation of believers was united as one – one heart, one mind! 

The Message

And so, how do we hear a little less noise and a bit more of the wind blowing through the trees and our hearts this Easter?

If I could speak all the languages of earth and of angels, but didn’t love others, I would only be a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal.

Ancient Text

We find some love, the kind that has been deposited in our pockets when we were looking for something else, and place a handful in the Easter baskets of the people whose lives we stumble across.

And joy comes to us, too.

For that is His way.

When Jesus died, he took sin down with him, but alive he brings God down to us . . . God speaks your mother tongue, and you hang on every word.

The Message

May you hear the sweet sound of His loving voice whispering to your heart ever more clearly this season, friend.

And may you find some love in your easter basket, too.

How To Rise From The Dead This Easter Season

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

The amaryllis opened its two enormous blossoms this week, revealing pink and white splendour and raising the scent profile of the room to a higher level.

And I am that amaryllis.

And so are you.

Let me explain.

About two decades ago, a neighbour gave us an amaryllis bulb in a cardboard package. “Water is all that is needed!” the box guaranteed. Beauty was promised to erupt from within this dry soil and ordinary pot.

I was excited about this, but I forgot about the plant in its little cardboard box in the rush of moving to another city. I felt guilty when I noticed it again a couple of years later. It was strewn between other forgotten items in our garage.

I gave it a few drops of water half-heartedly, looking at my watch as I waited for it to sprout life.

Then I got distracted.

“Well, I gave that a try, at least,” I thought, many years later when I saw the pot, out of its box now at least, but perched precariously on some items that needed sorting in the bowels of our garage. At least my guilt at not having TRIED to bring it to life was dissipated. “But I should give it another try,” I thought on my lunch break one day years later.

But when lunch was over, to-do items kept me running in circles. Days stretched to weeks and months. Another decade passed.

Our kids outgrew even more clothes, and I returned their small clothing items to the garage to deal with later.

“Remember me?” the amaryllis seemed to ask that year as I dumped a pile of too-small clothes on the floor beside it.

“We sometimes have to admit defeat,” I thought to myself, my advancing years having created a deep wisdom, called complacency, within. My few strands of grey hair had made me more rational and truthful. I didn’t look up from the floor as I spoke to myself.

My gaze had become limited.

I moved the plant to where we put things going to the dump.

At the prayer meeting that week, we were reminded to ask God to bring to life the seeds He had planted in us long ago. The ones He spoke in the whispers of the early morning hours or through the words of a friend – the ones we can’t quite find faith to believe.

And we were reminded to pour out our disappointments and frustrations to God. And to beg Him to make life sprout from the barren soils of our hearts.

And then I added a drop of water, two, on a whim that day to the amaryllis that was placed en route to the garbage dump.

Maybe?

And life sprouted.

And buds came in the form of hope.

And my soul was watered every time I watered that plant because hope was sprouting in me, too.

When the forgotten bulb in the little brown pot that hadn’t flowered in 20 years burst forth in all its fullness this Easter, I gazed at it in wonder.

And I don’t give up on you, either, Jesus whispered.

Because I know what the soil of your heart is capable of if you let Me pour some water on the seeds I have planted in your life.

Are you ready yet, dear child, to dare to hope in the impossible?

Friend, are you?

God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams!

The Message

What impossible seed has He planted that you have forgotten about or nearly given up on? Does He want to plant an impossible seed in you today? Can you squeeze a few drops of Easter hope from dry soil to water this seed?

Consider asking for the strength to ponder this question, clean ears to hear His love, a heart to trust His goodness, and hope from the water of His Spirit.

And may your life blossom in great fullness against all expectations too, friend.

To God be the glory!

(Happy Easter.)

Overwhelmed? (Non-)Expert Psychotherapy For Free!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

So, I saw a Psychotherapist for the first time this week.

Oh, shut up! You need to see a Psychotherapist, too! You’re just too afraid of what may be dragged up from the depths to step near her office.

So I thought I would teach you what she taught me so you can save $160.

Yup. Psychotherapists get paid $160 PER HOUR.

I thought there must be a decimal error somewhere, too.

Nope.

So she taught me a “Tapping” technique called EFT Tapping.

I’ll teach it to you!

Now, in case you didn’t know, a caveat is that I am NOT a Psychotherapist! In fact, I have no idea what Psychotherapy even is! Psychotherapy has the root word “psycho” in it, which is a bit concerning, if I’m honest.

But, hey! What can go wrong? I’m teaching you what I learned for free!

If you try this technique and accidentally go more nuts or something, then sorry! Full refund! Haha!

(Since this is free . . . get it? Never mind.)

And we’re off!

So you Tap. Using two fingers, you gently Tap on the places where we usually rub our heads when overwhelmed. Yes! It’s easy!

And this is based on REAL science!

I’ll tell you what happened in my appointment so you can get the FULL experience.

She asked me how I was feeling RIGHT THEN. A little overwhelmed, frantic, and busy. Aren’t we all?

I mentioned why I thought this was the case, and she said, in an I’m-not-really-listening way, “Oh, that’s too bad!”

So I won’t listen to you as you answer that question either!

You’re welcome!

Then, she switched gears and said we could try “Tapping.” I thought it was a little insensitive of her not to talk through much of what I said, as most often, the reason we pay people is so they’ll listen to us. (Wait. Does that mean I should pay you for listening to me on this blog? Never mind.)

Anyway, I’m giving this a shot, trusting her.

And now, since I learned from her, you can trust me!

As mentioned, EFT Tapping is based on science. Here, I’m not even lying about the science part, as I was here!

So we Tap the beginning of one eyebrow, the end of the eyebrow, under the eye. You know how we naturally rub our temples or under our eyes when overwhelmed?

Other places are under the nose, the little divot on our chin, below our collarbone, and armpits.

As I was Tapping, I was thinking, who in the world has TIME for this?

This thought reminded me of a story about my good friend. She was told about some new scientific research. When a dog is happy, it wags its tail slightly MORE on the right than the left.

My friend had a blank look and replied, “Who the *** has time to study that ***?”

I was connecting with her feelings of time frustration as I Tapped.

However, remembering that my body shut down on me when I ran it into the ground a few months ago, I shut up and Tapped. (This is only a slight exaggeration of the truth of why my body shut down here, but who CARES about truth anymore, anyway?).

Are you Tapping?

Good!

Then, I found some tears sliding down my cheek, which was a little weird. I’m not a frequent crier. (My husband says I’m lying here again. No comment.) My motto is: Life is too funny for tears!

But when I slowed down, here’s the thing:

I could hear the voice of God speaking to the depths, healing me a little more.

I think the biggest key to learning to hear from God is SLOWING DOWN.

And what did He say? Good question.

What did He say to you when you slowed down for a minute to be still?

In repentance and rest is your salvation,
    in quietness and trust is your strength

Ancient Text

Another time, I’ll write up the part about what God seemed to whisper, so you’ll pay me that 99 cents for the information you CAN’T WAIT another day for!

Ha!

Just kidding!

This information is free, remember!

Just know: You get what you pay for!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

How To Be A Little Less Nuts – 3 Lessons From The Trenches

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I ate and ate and ate, stuffing in chocolate cake, ice cream, sweets, candy, and lollipops. And why?

I don’t know.

“Why do we do stupid things?” is a good question.

Why do we make that wrong romantic decision or escalate a fight when we know we can never win?

(Of course, winning an argument is not the ONLY reason to purposely escalate fights. For more helpful marital advice, go here. You’re welcome!)

Why come down so hard on our kids that we’ve discouraged them from trying again?

Why do we yell at our spouse and then assume the “happy, polite voice” when the phone rings?

And then why do we turn to ice cream, and when we’ve polished off that container, search the cupboards for that half box of stale cookies we are sure is in there somewhere?

And why do we repeat this cycle?

“Yeah, sure, I get it,” I respond, a mouthful of ice cream making it hard to annunciate my words. “We feel bad, and so we want the endorphin rush that sugar or crystal meth provides.”

Yeah.

But how do we step off this crazy cycle and reassess our lives and decisions from a thousand feet up?

How do we get back onto the trail in the forest, the one where we meander on the hike with our friends, laughing a bit as we walk, resting at the cabin in the woods before continuing our journeys?

How can we be a little less nuts?

Lately, this is the question I have been pondering lately as I try to extract myself from my recently constructed crazy loop.

Got any advice?

My ice cream is finished and I have a few seconds before heading to the cupboard to look for stale treats.

How do we stop being the nuts-o little bird I saw that day repeatedly pounding its head against the window and instead peck around in the forest like we were made to do?

Maybe we’ve finally discerned the right question to ask:

How are we behaving in ways humans were never designed to behave?

1. Well, Jesus has been knocking on our door for the last few minutes, or hours, or decades. He greets us with a smile and a wave when we finally open the door, holding the first draught of the medicine we need that will make our hearts and stomachs ache but eventually feel better. Do we slam the door in His face again and return to our lonely rooms and video games, telling ourselves that our cheap thrills and distractions are better than tea with a friend who understands our deepest headaches and offers us a Kleenex and some hope, Jesus?

2. Did we stop long enough to listen to the warning sounds, the alarm bells that indicate something is amiss, long before we act out irrationally?

For example, when I started homeschooling, I surprised myself by lashing out in anger at my unsuspecting kids over a minor infraction. I couldn’t figure out my behaviour but my first step towards healing was noticing the growing hint of resentment as my husband sat on the couch, the jealousy towards my kids that they were reading while I was cleaning up again, and the longing for time by myself. Would I stop playing the martyr when I first noticed these cues and head out for a walk or a visit with a friend, my understanding husband wishing me well and patting me on the back for being proactive this time?

Or would I wait for the full volcanic eruption, spewing my partially digested insides for all to see?

3. Am I being patient with myself? Growth in all plants and animals takes more time than we have to sit around waiting for it. Can we pat each other on the back whenever we see growth in our friends, family, or ourselves?

For example, yeah, I ate a bunch of extra dessert this week, and no, not even on a Sunday!

I slipped in that habit, but I’ve been growing in other healthy practices.

Did we remember to count our wins?

. . . it’s important to build a rule of life slowly, deliberately, and prayerfully . . . is there one practice (Sabbath, prayer, spiritual friendship, witness, etc.) that would be most fruitful for you to begin with? Do you sense the Holy Spirit leading you to focus on a particular aspect…?

Ken Shigematsu God in My Everything – How An Ancient Rhythm Helps Busy People Enjoy God

We don’t compare ourselves with where we want to end up. That’s too discouraging. But when we pick ourselves up after a fall and jump back in the race, then we can be sure Jesus is cheering us on.

Because we’re growing!

Well done, friend!

No, you’re not a nutcase – you only seem that way!

You’re welcome!

Good luck!

True Freedom For The Woman Is This (Join The Dance, Friend?)

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

She sat on the grass, picking wildflowers.

She danced alone in that grassy place.

Free.

My choice is you, God, first and only.
    And now I find I’m your choice!
You set me up with a house and yard.
    And then you made me your heir!

The Message

I waited in the lineup, laughing.

Then I danced on the speakers at the bar.

Free.

Love me, hold me, ‘cause I’m free to do what I want any old time. And I’m free to be who I choose any old time

The Soup Dragons and Junior Reid

What is true freedom, then?

The freedom we danced and sang of when I was a youth at the bar left many of us imprisoned, wrapped so tightly in our bondage that joy dissipated.

The constraints God defines for us bring us to that grassy place where true freedom and joy are found.

And I danced alone, outside in the field, to the music God sang in my heart again this morning.

Your God is present among you . . .
Happy to have you back, he’ll calm you with his love
    and delight you with his songs.

The Message

And so, what is best for the woman, dear friend?

Come.

I beckon you to this side of the fence, where true freedom and joy are found.

Have you found your dancing shoes yet?

Put them on! Come – let’s dance together, friend!

Joy awaits!

What are you waiting for?

God longs to delight in you, too, as you put your hand in his and follow Him on a journey.

The term Hephzibah is Hebrew for “my delight is in her.”

You’ll be called Hephzibah, my delight

The Message

Come and dance with us!

Instead of insisting on freedom to create spiritual reality, shouldn’t we be seeking to discover it and disciplining ourselves to live according to it? . . .

In many areas of life, freedom is not so much the absence of restrictions as finding the right ones, the liberating restrictions.

Timothy Keller, The Reason For God

Where Do We Go In Winter When We Are Lost Again?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Looking for a way out of another winter that suffocates?

A pika was lost in a snowstorm.

She looks around her. Which direction to turn? She is cold, alone, afraid and doesn’t have much time before the cold winter chills her to the bone. Death arrives quickly out in nature.

And that pika is me.

(You, too?)

Why a pika? Because who knows what a pika is? (And how known do you feel?)

We look around us, seeking a direction to follow or something solid to hold onto.

The days of our lives are thrown in the garbage can like the pages on our daily calendars. There goes another day, week, decade.

We find our first and then our 100th gray hair. Do we continue to pull these hairs out? At what point are we defeating ourselves, even harming ourselves, by pretending that the clock of time isn’t ravaging us?

What do we hold onto?

What direction do we travel next?

Who can lead us?

Do we hunker down, curl into the fetal position for warmth, and hope for spring?

Will the joy in our souls remain at the end of this winter?

Where is the warming hut, the cup of hot chocolate, and the friend with the listening ear?

I am here, He whispers.

Do you hear?

What Did God Say? Heal Our Children? Are Our Ears Clean?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I wasn’t sure if I could keep the car on the road because I couldn’t see through my tears.

The downpour we were driving through didn’t help, either. “Keep it together. Keep it together. . .” was my mantra until I could get inside, close the door to the world, and let these emotions out.

I wasn’t sure I would be able to drive the car home.

Inside, I collapsed behind a closed door and told my husband the news. His sadness began deep, deep in his soul, in the place where love resides, and found its expression. It was the future we mourned.

A dark cloud had cast a shadow over the future of one of our children. Like a candle in the snow, her joyful little light was sensing wind on the horizon. And the odd pieces of cardboard I found nearby to try to shield her from the wind didn’t look like enough right now.

Heal her, God whispered to me months later.

I was minding my own business, letting my mind wander while in the hot tub.

“Um, what now?” I asked. I sat upright and perked up my ears. “What did you say?”

Silence.

I had heard him. Would I take the next step in faith? Or would I put cotton in my ears and dunk my head under the hot tub, ensuring I could not hear any more of this foolish talk?

They told me this was incurable. Everyone knew that! The best we could hope for was some moderate success with behaviour modification – a few small wins.

And so, which road should I take?

This is where we stumble.

Is that a jewel I just about stepped on along the path of life?

Will we pick it up, inspect it, hold it to the light and find a friend with a hammer to crack it open?

Or will we put it in our pocket to consider later if we remember?

The joys and the sorrows of life arrive, and we hang up our clothes at the end of the day. We forget them there for awhile. When we remember, through foggy memories, that there may be a jewel in our pocket (!), we look again, but it fell out. There are only the singed edges of our pocket to remind us that we were holding a bit of heaven for a while.

But it’s gone now.

What’s for lunch?

And God feels far away, again, even though He just descended from heaven to meet us. We treated His gift like just another stone on the path. Will we catch the next jewel He holds out to us? Will our eyes be open enough to see this time, or will we trample, again, the precious jewel that He offers, His firelight shining in the darkness?

It’s only a sparkle at first.

Time to bow low and fan the flame of His voice in your life, friend?

Come along. Let’s journey together.

Oh. And she was healed, God guiding and then redeeming my pathetic attempts to listen, Him re-directing me and helping me up when discouragement hit. For that is His way.

Jesus said, “There is no need to dismiss them. You give them supper.”

“All we have are five loaves of bread and two fish,” they said.

Jesus said, “Bring them here.” . . . The disciples then gave the food to the congregation. They all ate their fill. They gathered twelve baskets of leftovers. About five thousand were fed.

The Message

We give Him what we have. It’s all we have but it’s not very much. We work with Him, following His direction so that the miracle can occur.

But that is a story for another time.

It’s also a repetitive story found here and here and in any heart willing to receive what He offers.

Ready for an adventure into the miraculous?

How To Defeat The Monster Of “Not-Enough-Time” Once and For All

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Is time clasping its fingers around your neck, too?

Does it tighten its grip so you struggle for breath now and then, too?

Do the fingers around your neck create fear that makes your every breath panicked, too?

And so, how do we fight the enemy of time?

Openly discussing our fears is the hand that removes this snake from around our neck for a while.

Why is time so scary?

We watch the snake slither next to us as we sit here on the sidelines, pondering the game of life.

It doesn’t look so big anymore as we see it now, here beside us.

It is not the kind of snake that can choke the life from us, a constrictor. It is a harmless, small snake, but its pressure, when wrapped around our necks, feels suffocating.

And so, how is your life going?

Let’s chat, be honest.

Did you shoot and nail every basketball into the hoops you aimed for when you were younger and your dreams were less tarnished?

If you did, how are you doing now, after the applause ended?

Just another one of us, a straggler in old rags, sitting by the side of the court, wondering what the game is all about?

Yeah, I hear you. I put my arm around you. Got any wisdom for the rest of us – the confused, discouraged, and hungry?

I’ve got one story. Here it is:

A dilemma confronted her. The dilemma woke her in the middle of the night. It was the calm, clear voice of her Lord.

Invite him to stay here, He said.

She was supposed to invite him to stay at her home. Nothing too extraordinary. Except that he was the leader of one of the most savage street gangs in New York. He was a bad guy, rotten to the core.

Or so everyone knew, and the track record of his life proved.

And she was the proverbial sweet old lady, tough as nails inside, under the veneer of an opulent mansion, her world in order.

Invite him to stay here.

No one else would let him into their home.

But she did.

True story.

This one act, this time at her home, was the safe respite, like a rest in Rivendell, that he needed as he journeyed away from Mordor. (Apologies to non-Lord of the Rings fans for this sentence).

He couldn’t go back to the streets. His old gang would kill him. But he was forging a new path that would lead him toward Jesus and to an international ministry speaking about his life’s events.

But this story isn’t about him.

It’s about the woman who invited him into her home.

She took a risk.

She obeyed God.

[He] protested, “Master, you can’t be serious. Everybody’s talking about this man and the terrible things he’s been doing, his reign of terror . . . !”

But the Master said, “Don’t argue. Go!”

The Message

Of course, we can never know this, but as a thought experiment, what if this ONE ACT redeemed an entire life?

This ONE ACT allowed millions to be touched and inspired by a life that otherwise could have vanished in the wind.

Poof.

It’s possible, again as a thought experiment, that in this ONE ACT of obedience, the fruit from a life was as expansive as the sand on a seashore.

And I step on the snake next to me, crush its head.

God told the serpent:
“Because you’ve done this, you’re cursed . . .
I’m declaring war between you and the Woman,
    between your offspring and hers.
He’ll wound your head,
    you’ll wound his heel.”

The Message

Time is no longer around my neck, squeezing me, leaving me gasping for breath.

I obey God.

I leave the results of my life up to Him.

I fly.

You?