Desperation

How To Be A Moth In Darkness Since God Is Light – 3 Hints

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

If we’re honest, we’re all lost and directionless in the snowstorm of life.

And we should be honest because truthfulness with ourselves and God about how lost and scared we often feel is like being a moth in the darkness and then finding a light source and being drawn together.

When we can no longer see because we’ve put blinders over our eyes again, we can sometimes hear God calling us softly through the gobs of earwax we forgot to clean out. (Sorry for the gross illustration, but one of my exceptional talents is producing immense quantities of earwax. This metaphor has an arresting punch for me).

Do you hear God calling?

This song was like a megaphone God used through another’s voice when I was too deaf again to hear him speak.

During my last winter season (spiritually speaking), God whispered in this song in a way that touched my heart, if not my ears in the following ways:

1. The sun shines on every patch of ground on earth. The following lyric was like a knife touching the hardened parts of my heart, the sections that God could not break through with the warmth of his breath because I had locked and sealed it off. God seemed to breath on this lyric, waking a deep part of my soul:

Melt the ice of this wild soul

2. Winter carries the promise of spring. This lyric would quicken my heart and bear the baby of faith:

If you’re not done working, God, I’m not done waiting

Have you been waiting for an exceptionally long time for the voice of God to whisper more clearly to you, too, friend? God might be digging around your soil, preparing to transplant you to a sunnier location, to a spot where you can feel the sun’s rays a little more easily before he breathes on your ears, restoring them. (He’s not done working).

3. Surrendering the throne of my life to its rightful owner, to God, instead of to the insecure, bossy child (me), is what releases life. The voluptuous blossoms in your life will look different than what you imagined.

Like a seed you [Jesus] were sown, for the sake of us all. From Bethlehem’s soil grew calvary’s sequoia

The full blossom of Jesus’ life was the cross, dying to set you free so your ears can be opened to the voice of God and you are free to soar.

Ready to pick up the gift He left for you, friend?

Ready, yet to be awakened?

How To Avoid A Midlife Crisis – 3 Drops of Preventative Medicine

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

So we decided to take surfing lessons in our summer holidays this year.

I had never tried surfing on the ocean before, but as you know, I tried surfing for the first time behind a surf boat on a lake this summer.

As I was putting on my wetsuit for my first ocean surfing lesson yesterday, I was surprised that our group consisted of about two dozen teenagers, with my husband and me. We have kids their age. There were three parents nearby.

“I’m glad at least there are a few parents,” I whispered to my husband.

He nodded appreciatively. The parents didn’t suit up. They were there to watch.

“Should we be concerned about that?” my huband and I asked each other silently.

I wasn’t quite sure of the wisdom of this whole surfing gig, even without the fact that this seemed to be a teen activity. As you know, I spent a month this fall in bed with a back problem. Was this really wise?

I felt God whisper to try, to do less of the lesson, but to give it a go.

Also, the pain specialist said that often, people get stuck and won’t do anything new after their injury. Their backs freeze up, and they get stuck in cycles of every-more-limited mobility.

I don’t want to be constrained by fear.

The surfing lesson was super fun! Except I did have to ask one of the teens to help me carry my surfboard down to the beach because it was too heavy for me, and I didn’t want to explain about having a sore back last fall lest one of them ask, “Lady, what the heck are you doing in a surf lesson then???” But apart from the minor hiccups, it was great fun!

My husband said we should continue to do this kind of stuff, meaning that we should push ourselves outside of the limits that we set for ourselves, i.e. as non-surfers. I agree with his philosophy. Before the trip, he said, “This will be a great trip because we have aspirin!”

But this got me thinking about midlife crises.

The teen instructor asked us, “What made you want to get into surfing?”

“Trying to avoid a midlife crisis?” I offered.

But there may be some truth in expanding our horizons a little bit and in allowing ourselves some room to grow to avoid a midlife crisis.

So here are some thoughts on avoiding a midlife crisis:

  1. Here’s a picture of me surfing. I didn’t stand up on the thing, but it can’t be that much harder to stand when you’re surfing, can it? And then it’s not much of a jump to imagine myself as a surfer person with a few more (billion) hours at the beach under my belt. Sometimes, stretching our identities and ideas of who we are takes a bit of a physical challenge.
  2. I think many of us get fat in middle age because we obsess about constantly seeking comfort. Our lives of comfort become boring. For example, do you ever notice yourself dreaming about lunch right after breakfast? Or thinking about your afternoon sugar snack right after lunch? This could signify that our lives need a little spicing up instead of our menus.
  3. If we’re open to adventure, God has something new, friend, and exciting for each one of us. If we open our spiritual eyes and are willing be honest, thirsty and surrendered.

Why be satisfied with our old identities and a boring turkey sandwich when God offers us His world to soar into, friend?

Ready yet for adventure?

3 Common Mistakes That Make Your Spiritual Map Blurry

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I looked out my window this morning and saw something surprising in our overgrown “flower” patch.

This flower was so entangled in the weeds I had to cut back greenery all around it to snap a photo.

I knew God was speaking through this flower and will explain why soon. But I also wondered, “What are You saying?” I felt confused, which is usually how I feel when God seems to be whispering.

Several years ago, I shared with friends that God was whispering, calling me into something new but I was stuck in the weeds of my fear and misplaced identity, and I had shrunk God down to my own size again. But those are other stories for another day.

My friend had a prophetic word for me that night several years ago about a stick of a plant above ground in winter.

That stick was me. “But a blossom is coming,” she said. Three times this spring, a flower blossom has surprisingly appeared even though I did nothing or very little for ten years, thirteen years, and more than twenty years as amaryllis, a lilac, and now this peony appeared out of nowhere.

I didn’t plant a peony.

We’ve lived in this home for thirteen years, and this is the first time a peony blossom has appeared in the flower garden the previous owners planted. I didn’t know one of the plants without flowers (was it a also weed?) was a peony.  The peony was my favourite flower when we lived in another home.

Perhaps because the blossoms on this flower are so remarkable, the peony had become a symbol of this word about a blossoming season that is coming.

I had a photo of a peony on my iPad wallpaper and a painting of peonies hanging on my physical wall for a long time, symbolizing a blossoming season that is coming, God seemed to whisper.

I had filled dozens of journals in the last few years, but early this week. I sensed God asking me to purchase this journal, which features an artistic rendition of peonies on its cover.

And today, one peony appeared amidst the weeds of my garden.

What did it all mean?

We can make several mistakes when our ears start itching with the things God is saying and we try to interpret His heavenly language into our own language.

Here are three common ones:

  1. The biggest mistake most of us make is forgetting to put our ears on. God is speaking? Huh? And we go back to our snacks and our video games.
  2. The second typical response to the whispers of God is a knee-jerk reaction that ends up being a bit of a kick to God in the stomach. The knee-jerk reaction is, “Oh! My tiny little brain already knows what you would say to me, God!” We assume. And so we put layers of meaning onto the beautiful whispers of God that he never intended. He shakes his head sadly nearby, his heart grieved.
  3. The third mistake is the one that we can never get rid of, and that is the leech of arrogance that attaches itself to us. We can never seem to fully pull it off no matter how hard we try. If we remove this leech from our shoulder, a new one will be attached to our leg. A tendency toward arrogance is something we live with.

What are the solutions to these three problems?

  1. We sit at the feet of Jesus, and open the book containing His message to humanity. He doesn’t speak outside the boundaries of his love, which is recorded in this book, climaxing in the death of Jesus so that our souls can be presented as a love offering to the God of the universe if we so want this.
  2. And then we ask God. We got one drop of water on our parched throats. We come to Jesus, bringing our empty water glasses and asking him for more. Holy Spirit holds a pitcher of water that will overflow our largest water glass, satisfying our souls when we come to him thirsty.
  3. Will we stand up and walk in a new direction if Jesus seems to be nudging our elbow, asking us to get up off the floor where we are stuck? Will we surrender?

With these three attitudes – honesty (that we are spiritually lost and confused again), thirst and surrender- we are ready to take our next step on our spiritual journeys.

Is the map you received becoming a bit less blurry for your next step, friend?

Mine too.

Let’s rest here at this cabin in the woods before we go our separate ways on our journeys following Jesus.

I’ll tell you more about what I think God may have been whispering through the surprise of a peony in an unkept garden next time.

Desperately Thirsty? No Hope? A 3-Minute Reset Brings Reliable Raindrops

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

I was discouraged that day.

My head was in my hands as I slumped on my desk. That light on the horizon, the hope I was clinging to, in this case, “summer” for a homeschooling parent, seemed very distant. I reached out my hand but couldn’t touch this horizon today.

I got up, dressed and showered, a “skill” I had learned from previous years of homeschooling. I knew I needed to wear my best outfit and smile like I had a job outside the home. I knew I needed to greet my little students with love as they emerged from their bedrooms in their little onesies and messy hair.

But how do I give my children what I don’t have?

I fall on my face alone in my room.

Then I hold out my outstretched hand containing the seed of homeschooling He placed in my heart many years prior. I have carried the seed close to my heart. I have worked and tended this garden. These seeds (No! – Wait! These small plants!) have been watered by my sweat and hard work, ploughing in the sun and the rain. Will these small plants grow thick, strong roots downward? Will these roots find the hidden, underground springs that will sustain and nourish them?

That is my hope.

That is why this tired mother rises early again, gets dressed, puts on lipstick, and seeks hope in these pages that have fed her in the past. But what happens when we search these pages of the book but today there is no hope to be found? We have searched and turned the pages, but it is a dry season, a time of drought.

What then?

I set my three-minute timer, my little “vacation” getaway. I close and lock the door and lie down on my face alone in my room. I try to ignore any sounds outside my door, for those few minutes.

And do I pour out my heart and explain to God my life situation, knowing at a deeper level that He understands more than I do about my problem?

No.

I put on a worship song, fall on my face in my room, and praise Him for three minutes. Sometimes, the tears flow, sometimes, the anger comes, and sometimes, the drought feels too much to bear. But every time, after a couple of minutes of focusing on Him, the one who created the world, worship reminds me how big God is.

And by definition, I then remember how small I am.

And this is my hope.

When I stop shrinking God down to my size, the rains come. This drought today is over for now. Because He is so big, powerful and wise, He has multiple answers to my problems in His little pinky finger.

Will I trust him, remember His grandeur and pick up the hope that came with this rain of his presence? Will I take a drink? Will I stand in the rain? I’ll be cleansed, if so, my face uplifted to the One who is the source of living water, the God who, by touching the hem of His robe, can make us well.

And I don’t understand it, but I can trust the rain and hope I found today. And this rain becomes living water in my heart so that I can pour out hope on my children today and face whatever dangers, tigers, or math come our way.

And when we stop at the end of the day, decade, or season of life and put up our feet, we can thank Jesus for giving us the strength and hope to keep going.

. . . I provided water in the desert. . . Drinking water for the people I chose, the people I made especially for myself, a people custom made to praise me

The Message

Authentic Fruit Is What Happens When Parents Pour Into Kids, Creating Spiritual Desperation

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

After gabbing it up with my teenage daughter as they waited in line that day, the stranger grabbed my arm and whispered, “You did a great job with her. She is so kind. Well done, Mama.”

After I picked my ego up off the floor, where it has been the last two decades, trampled by societal expectations for a productive life (Hint – Homeschooling is not a candidate in this employment contest), I pinned my self-esteem back onto my chest, and thought, “Yes! You are right! She IS amazing!”

But the thing is, she didn’t come out of the womb this way

Even after 10,893,231 conversations in which I turned blue in the face and explained how to fit into society (i.e. NOT by wearing pasta in our hair when in a restaurant), she STILL wasn’t that easy to be around.

The POINT is that homeschooled kids are often well-adjusted because:

(1) Parents KNOW what is going on, in terms of that naughty behaviour we would rather not deal with, but that we have to address because we are spending 10,000 minutes (almost all the time) with them again this week,

(2) Parents can’t ship them off on a bus every morning, even BECAUSE they know what is going on (They would say “Thank God” if they would go on a bus SOMETIMES), and,

(3) Parents are confronted day after day, hour after hour, minute after long minute some days with the FACT that they are spending INORDINATE amounts of time with unsanctified humans.

Worse, parents are confronted with the reality of OUR need for sanctification, and this is humiliating for us. So, we run to God and beg for help on our knees BECAUSE we are ALL such desperate losers. But the sweat and tears of our prayers eventually sanctify our kids BECAUSE they receive this message of grace through our lives, as God sanctifies us.

Translation: We ADMIT we parents are losers, and then we gently reveal the truth to our child that she, too, did the wrong thing again when she smacked that kid on the head with her firetruck because she wanted HIS cupcake too.

But this grace in our lives, this deep understanding of our need for forgiveness, softens our speech a little.

do not provoke your children . . . by the way you treat them

Ancient Text

And this broccoli seasoned with the melted cheese of our own desperate need for forgiveness becomes a food our kids can swallow.

And we both grow a little more today, our plant’s roots grasping a little more of the water that truly satisfies, and so fruit in our lives and our kid’s lives will begin to grow.

It’s a law of nature.

So let’s not allow ourselves to get fatigued doing good. At the right time we will harvest a good crop if we don’t give up, or quit.

The Message

And when they compliment you again for having kind kids?

You can sit back, relax, take a sip of a cold summer drink and know that the path of life you chose was a good one, which is bearing fruit in your life, too.

Pick some fruit from the tree of your life and enjoy it today.

Well done, Mom and Dad.

God sees your investment in your kids. His praise that you followed His lead is the food that truly satisfies. Nothing good comes without sweat and handing over our fears to God.

How are you choosing to invest your life?

Overwhelmed? How To Receive Comfort, Guidance, Strength We Need

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

She held her head in her hands, tears flowing.

Her child stood next to her. The girl look worried for her mother. She wanted to help.

The girl held a wildflower she had just picked and extended her arm to her mom with this offering.

It was all she had.

The flower drooped in her hand. This child desperately longed for her mother to feel better. Would this flower help, as hope extended from her heart through her arm?

The girl’s dress shone bright, pure, like her unhidden love for her mother.

She didn’t have much to offer. Only a wilted flower and a heart of need and love. Would it be enough?

It was.

The mother wrapped her arms around her daughter, drawing her in close, inhaling the fresh air scent. The aroma of this love strengthened her and gave her the courage to get up, to continue journeying hand in hand with this little one.

And Jesus walked next to them, though he couldn’t be seen.

He spoke to the daughter of ways to love her mother – a gentle touch here, an eye connection there, a wilted flower at the right moment, laughter in her play. And the mother’s heart was strengthened.

And Jesus also spoke to this tired and worn mother, in a whisper, a nudge, urging her to use the language of love that this child could receive – a game here, some good food there, given with eye connection and a silent “I love you.”

The mom’s movements, the swaying of her skirt as she walked, reminded the child that someone more significant, someone with more wisdom, someone who loved deeply, could be trusted to be followed.

The mom remembered this, too. She held Jesus’ hand with her free hand as she journeyed, following the path set before her. Someone else walked with her, had more wisdom than her and loved with a depth that surpassed her strength for love.

And remembering this lightened the load she carried on her back. As she walked, the gentle squeeze from his hand reminded her to turn this way, not that, on the path of life.

Some dangers were avoided, but not all. Some dangers drew her closer to the arms of Jesus as she drew her child next to her. On that scary stormy night outside, they heard the strange animals howling and felt the beating of their hearts.

But their trust grew more robust.

. . . if you’ll only get to know and trust me. Call me and I’ll answer, be at your side in bad times

The Message

When the rain stopped, and they continued their journey together, Jesus spoke wisdom, quietly and inaudibly to this good mother.

And she walked a little further. And her legs grew stronger. And her child’s legs grew stronger and longer, and they walked further than they thought they could.

His love strengthened their hearts and their love for one another.

And walking the path of life got a little easier.

Up for a journey, friend?

He is standing next to you, too, as you cry. Do you need a Kleenex? He is offering you one, too.

Ready for some comfort?

Jesus, may our eyes function with the capacity to see how You are already at work in each of our lives, we pray.

Despairing? Unlikely People Sometimes Carry Startling Crumbs Of Hope

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

Why does it always have to start with trust?

Was that a whisper or a nudge from God as we live our lives in the mundane ordinary? Will we listen? He speaks, and it can seem so small and easy to ignore.

Will we obey?

The Father trusts those with big things to those who have been faithful in the small stuff.

Make some for yourself, too, God seemed to whisper to me that day several years ago. God had been nudging me to make fleece pants with my kids and their friends. Now, he seemed to be nudging to make fleece pants for me, too.

So, I was online ordering fleece fabric.

A particular type of fabric seemed to stand out to me as joy bubbled from the inside. I bought the fabric with the golden retrievers stamped all over them (true story). I made my pants.

And now, I will try to convey something challenging to articulate.

These doggy fleece pants are like a key opening a door between another culture and me. Once, someone exclaimed jubilantly that she loved my pants and then recounted a surprising quantity of her life story as I stood listening, stunned and speechless, my to-go coffee cup waiting in my hand mid-air for her to finish. This kind of thing happens often.

It happened today.

The teenage guy working at Tim Horton’s spent five minutes before he took my order telling me he loved my pants, told me a story about his dog, and then spoke with the lady next to him about whether she liked dogs or cats better.

I listened mutely and smiled.

My table was laden with crumbs, so I asked for a napkin to clean it. The young man leaned in to confide that they are understaffed but insisted on cleaning the table for me. As he wiped, he said, “People really surprise me sometimes.”

“How do you mean?” I asked.

He was quiet, so I offered, “You mean how people are always making messes?”

He nodded.

I wondered what I could say in the several seconds left of our interaction that could be like a crumb to feed him just a little. “Well, it’s a good thing that God forgives us after we create our messes.” I looked innocently away, waiting for the metaphor to nourish his soul.

The crumb nourished, and his hunger pangs caused him to sputter forcefully.

“I can’t believe people don’t know I’m a Christian,” he exclaimed. “I don’t smoke.” My brain was overheating as I was trying to deduce the connection between not smoking and being a Christian.

He was in his own world, however, and felt the need, for some reason, to be honest with me, a perfect stranger.

“Well, I do smoke weed.”

Where do we go from here, God? Clearly, he was being nourished, somehow, by the crumbs from Your table. What do I say in the 30 nanoseconds before he departs?

I settled on, “Well, if we can truly understand that God loves us, that’s the important part, right?”

He stared at me, fumbled, and then dropped his cleaning cloth. His hat fell off as he bent over to pick up the fabric. He stared at me a moment before picking that up, too.

He was deep in thought.

Eye contact one more time before he walked away.

Was there a nanosecond of redemption, a glimpse of light lit for a moment, so that You redeemed this ordinary day for the clerk at Tim Horton’s, God? May this generation find messy tables wherever they go, we pray. And may the crumbs somehow, by your grace, be multiplied to nourish the soul.

There is more, there is more, there is more, He is saying to the teenage boy working at Tim Hortons.

I’ll continue this story another time.

Despair In Family Relationships? Try Listening To This Astonishing Guy*

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

She rejoiced.

It happened!

She danced in the field that summer morning, praising her maker.

What He promised, quietly, with a whisper of love, that He would guide and comfort, HAD materialized.

Here is what happened.

At the women’s gathering that day long, long ago, this good mother poured out her heart to another.

The tears racked her body as she openly shared her fears.

Generational problems pursued her family. Her grandmother, grandfather, father, mother, sister, and auntie bathed in the pool of these problems. None of them had figured out how to get out of this pool, dry off, to dance in that grassy place in freedom.

They all felt like they were drowning instead.

How would her relationship with her daughters differ from what was experienced by every other family member?

The despair of this situation overwhelmed her.

They bowed their heads, these two women, and prayed together that day so many long years ago.

And God spoke, in the recesses of this desperate mother’s heart, a strategy and plan to walk in freedom, step by step, to carve out a new path from the dysfunctional road all her family member walked.

I’ll put it as urgently as I can: You must get along with each other. You must learn to be considerate of one another, cultivating a life in common.

The Message

And she was joined in marriage to a man who also longed to walk a new path, the one that Jesus walked ahead of them and beckoned them to follow.

And they did.

And years later, when their first child leaves home, they look back with a cool drink and remember the pain and branches across the path of the road they followed Jesus on. They remembered their hair and clothes full of the pieces of branches, yet their hearts grew larger each day as they learned, through following Him, how to love a little less selfishly, and pour more of their lives out on the other.

And He healed their union, their diversion from the path the others in their family travelled, with a different destination.

Their relationships with their children were healthy.

Not perfect.

Each member of this small family worked through and argued past, chopped chunks off each other, as a sculptor does to a piece of art.

But their path led to healthier relationships.

This couple celebrated the new lineage of increased unity that bonded their family, as they were all refined by this artist, Jesus.

And they danced together in that grassy meadow, this small family, for something new had risen from the depths into life.

Does anyone dare despise this day of small beginnings?

The Message

Blogpost Footnotes

*Also known as “God”

Value The Comfort Of Fear More Than Freedom?

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

That meadow in the sunlight. The place where we dance and feel free. The place outside that smells of wildflowers and the freshest air.

Where is it?

I lost it in the busyness of life.

Instead, I am inside, head down, working on my computer. Was that a rat scurrying in the distance? I didn’t have as much weekend time to deep clean as I would have liked.

Where did my dream of what life was supposed to be like vanish?

I live in this tiny apartment created by my fear.

What if?

I don’t have time to wander outside with my backpack, eating the apple I distractedly packed along the way. How can we stumble upon life’s meadows if we don’t have time to look for them? What does it look like for my eyes to search the most distant horizon?

I forgot.

Jesus opens the door in this stuffy room. The open door beckons me outside. Come for a walk with me, He offers.

And the pile of to-dos stays on the desk as I walk and then run outside with my friend, Jesus.

My legs felt weak, and I stumbled as I laughed, breaking into to run.

I haven’t used my legs for a while.

All that sitting and worrying has caused my muscles to atrophy a bit.

But as I run with Jesus in that place of rest, I feel my legs, arms and lungs growing more robust.

The Lord replied, “I will personally go with you . . . and I will give you rest

Ancient Text

I can see further when He beckons me to look at the far, far distant horizons. My eyes hurt from the strain. I hadn’t lifted my vision beyond my overwhelming concerns for a while.

I can sense my muscles are more substantial, my bones sturdier, my thoughts sharper. I feel more like the human I am meant to be after spending time in the spiritual clouds.

And it’s going to be okay.

Because when I walk, hand in hand, back to that tiny apartment with Jesus, he holds a button attached to a long cord that snakes to my apartment. The button can ignite the fuse attached to the dynamite that explodes the tiny apartment I used to live in, the one confining me by my fears.

It’s not that my fears have left me but that I have left them.

Jesus gives me enough food for today to live in freedom.

And I’m snatching up this food and eating my fill.

I’d rather fly.

You?

Don’t Attend Church Looking Bad – How To Look Good!

/ Lori Lawe / Leave a comment

As you know or can presume from the style and classiness of these posts, I have excellent taste.

Ahem.

And I hesitate to point out, most reluctantly, that in this post, the exact BRANDS and style of clothing I was wearing were noted for interested readers! (I mention that cautiously and with true humility, of course.) In this post, I describe the fancy hat collection I am developing for use in my old age.

So yes!

I CAN EASILY advise on how to look good!

So, HOW do we look VERY GOOD at church, you ask? Great question! I’m SO glad you asked! Ahem!

First, set aside your pride and go ahead and have a big ‘ol ugly cry at church. Seriously! I describe my own (rare) undignified moment here.

You’re welcome.

But wait, wait, you ask, “How does ugly crying make us look good?” It seems the opposite would be true! You hang on my every word, waiting to discover how to lock and seal this seemingly disparent advice into a philosophically coherent indisputable argument.

I’ll explain.

The more we air our neuroses (sorry for the analogy, but it’s like flatulence), the less we smell bad! Seriously! Now, you know that I never even like to MENTION the word flatulence, as described here. However, the analogy fits SO perfectly.

When we hold in, er- what SHOULD be aired – the inside of us smells terrible, though the outside has no odour. Okay, this analogy MAY be breaking down a bit, but you get my point, I think? If we HOLD IN our neuroses, and pretend everything is okay when it isn’t, the inner neuroses pick away at us, and the rotten stench that all of us carry around with us festers there, though often we are the only ones who can smell it.

(If you think you always smell good, have you ever wondered – “AH! What IS the meaning of my life?” – JUST before you fall asleep? If so, that’s a case in point. You are more messed up than you let on, too!)

So, let out the uglies! A little cry at church is just the thing. You’ll find that people who love you bring you a Kleenex and a pat on the shoulder.

They may not be able to help you much, but they genuinely want to, which counts for something.

You see, at church, God COMMANDS others to love you. Now, granted, NONE of us are that good at loving others, but some have figured out how to channel a morsel of God’s love for us through their arms into compassion.

These are the people we can be honest with, and -no surprises here – they have already taken their turn in the ugly seat.

They are not surprised by your big cry!

And somehow, expressing what we feel is enough to keep the evil dragon at bay for a while.

Knowing that someone is praying for us helps too.

Add a little time with the Father to ask Him a bit more about WHY we were neurotic freaks at church last week and He gives us the Kleenex that is the softest kind that dries all of our tears because His Kleenex is fragranced with hope.

At church, they will read to you from a book, and it may say something like this:

For everyone. . . fall[s] short of God’s glorious standard.

Ancient Text

And this will put a bounce in our step and hope in our hearts.

We’re not as neurotic as we thought!

Well, we are if we dig deeper, but that’s for next Sunday.

The point is, we’re not sucking in our guts anymore, pretending our way through life.

‘May it be the real I who speaks. May it be the real Thou that I speak to.’

CS Lewis – Letters to Malcolm

Whatever we bring to the light can be healed.

Whatever we hide infects us, rotting away at our insides.

So let’s let our neuroses out!

And maybe after we’ve let out some of the uglies, we may shift the direction of the ship we are sailing a little closer to true north.

And as we go about our week, we’ll find we are starting to smell better!

We’ll look better, too, through God’s eyes.