Blessed be the Name

I -- like most of you, I would imagine -- have been horrified by the earthquake in Haiti and the destruction in its wake.

I have had moments in the last few years when I couldn't sleep wondering if I would be able to pay my bills, wondering if I could afford the next meal, gas (which is critical to my job), or the roof over my head. Wondering if I would ever sell anything again and knowing that the stress and lack of sleep would affect my ability to sell. Stressed to what seemed like "the max", even though I knew the safety net known as my dad was waiting in the wings to help.

Imagine the Haitians. Imagine surviving an earthquake and losing EVERYTHING -- governmental structure, homes, family, children, parents, everything. Living through the horror of the aftermath -- dead bodies on the streets, heat, humidity, stench, burning bodies, mass graves, confusion, looting, sheer chaos. And, then face the real threat that after all of it, you may die from starvation or dehydration.

The thing I've noticed is that news reporters are finding camps of people because they hear singing. And, when they follow the singing, they find groups of Haitians standing in the fields praising God. Diane Sawyer reportedly followed the singing and in the fields they found Haitians singing in French. She insisted on knowing what they were singing. It was Blessed Be The Name of the Lord.

In the midst of complete devastation, they are singing. When the holocaust happens, they sing. They don't cry out to the Lord, "Why did you do this to me?" But, rather, they sing, "Thank you, God. You are Mighty and Good. You are Holy. You are Righteous. Your Name is Great. I love You."

When left with NOTHING but, the clothes on their back and their Father in Heaven, they choose to remember that they are securely cradled in His palm. This world is just a temporary home.

Pretty sure when my life came crashing in (and I didn't experience a fraction of their loss) that I didn't sing or praise -- at least not immediately. I am humbled by their response.

Maybe those tender saints who survive should send some missionaries over here. I could use their influence in my life.

Resisting the urge

Can I just say, I feel fantastic!! :) I mean really healthy and happy for the first time in a really long time. I suppose that these things don't happen all at once. But, it occurred to me the other day that I really am happy. And, as a result, my sales have increased, my rapport building with customers has increased, I laugh easier, etc...

So, I was thinking that I should link to a new blog. I should start something new that marks the beginning of this shift in the grief process.

And then I laughed. Out loud. Of all the lessons that I've learned over the last two years, it's that it's okay for my peas to touch my carrots. For the waffle syrup to spill over from one neat tidy little square to the next. That compartmentalization isn't healthy. In fact, while it protects in the short-term, in the long-run it can do much damage.

That in compartmentalizing my life I lose myself. Even when it hurts to read back over this blog and realize how really broken and messed up I was, I have to resist the urge to hide it. It's still who I am. It's a journal of progress. It's life. No need to pretend like the pain never existed. Rather the healing deserves a celebration!

A point to ponder

I read this tonight on one of my friend's Facebook pages. I'd be interested in YOUR feedback:

"..the gospel (that i am so lost that no less than the Son of God, creator/sustainer of the universe, HAD to die to rescue me..yet i am so loved that no less than the Son of God CHOSE to die for me so that He could bring me into what C.S. Lewis would call the 'cosmic dance of love') OUGHT TO create the most 'INCLUSIVE' exclusivity that exists."

-- Mark Hubbard

ROFLOL

A must read!!! Enjoy! :)

http://www.thesneeze.com/2009/the-mystery-of-the-face-on-the-butt.php

That wretched bar of soap

Ever played in the tub with your kid -- squeezing the slippery soap so tight that it pops out of your hand?

I do that with life sometimes. In fact, more often than I care to admit. I squeeze so tightly the things that I want that, sometimes, they slip out of my hand. Then, I go splashing around in the water of life looking for that slippery soap only to have it elude me once more.

Corrie Ten Boom identified it another way. She said, "I've learned to hold everything loosely, because it hurts too much when God pries my fingers apart and takes them from me." Ahhhhh. Yep. I've been there, too. When I hear that quote, I imagine my fingers being superglued to the things I want -- and the skin-ripping pain of having to relinquish what's "mine".

Don Uth, pastor at First Baptist Church of Orlando, said this past week, "We weren't made for this world -- hold life loosely." So true.

Ever tried it? Ever really tried to hold everything -- your thoughts, actions, hopes and dreams -- loosely? What about your coworkers, friends, family, kids, parents, bosses, teachers? Not carelessly. Loosely. Loosely so that God can reorganize, reshape, rework them for His purposes. Just as an empty vessel cradling precious gifts but not clinging to them.

Ever tried to hold multiple ideas from multiple people loosely? Can opposing ideas and thoughts really coexist? Can different personalities and ideologies become one?

Are we truly capable of allowing a fellow human -- moreover a fellow Christian or Christian leader -- to progress on THEIR journey and not on ours? Can we give them the grace to fall? Can we help them up without expectation of where their journeys may lead?

What about your best friend? What about your spouse? Can you allow him or her to be who God created him/her to be without expecting YOUR purposes to be fulfilled?

This is where my heart is these days. Trying to hold all of God's gifts loosely without anticipating how the pieces fit my purposes. Frankly, it's messy. I want to fix it. I want to create an answer that satisfies me. And yet I know that His timing, His purposes and His plans are far greater than my own.

The Shack

So, I finally read The Shack. Apparently, there's some controversy about the book. But, if you've read it. I'd be interested in your feedback. (And, not how badly written the book is -- that goes with out saying -- I'm going for concepts here . . .)

How did you the author's picture of the Trinity compare with your theological understanding?
What did you think about the author's comments on the church?
What was your response when the main character opened the door to the shack?
How do you feel about the author's explanation of Christ as fully God and fully man?

There's no wrong answers here. I've just heard about the controversy -- and I'd like to understand it . . .

Family

I was visiting my friends Mark and Charlotte today. Charlotte is three and she loves to see her name written on the whiteboard in the kitchen (or anywhere for that matter). And, Charlotte said to her daddy, "will you write my name, PLEASE?" So, he did. Charlotte. Rose. Novak. Then, with even more enthusiasm, "Write your name, Daddy!" And, then, "Okay! Now Cheri's" (prounounced 'cherry' in Charlotte speak). "Okay, now Mommy's."

"There," she said. "That's my family."

My heart broke. I love that little girl. And, Mark. And, the family they have allowed me to be a part of.

Mark is the best friend God could have EVER placed in my life to walk me through this divorce. Really. I can't imagine anyone better. A major reason why I am not a bitter, angry divorced woman is because of Mark. The whole story is quite remarkable -- as only God could fashion it.

Mark went through a divorce almost simultaneous with mine. He and Charlotte -- in their own grief -- opened their home and their hearts to me and allowed me to be a part of their family on a regular basis.

It was Mark who led the way in making sure that the right boundary lines were held to protect tender hearts. And, yet, never seemed to close his own. I have learned so much from them about keeping my heart open. About being honest. About letting go. About courage. And, about what God intended for love to look like. For a guy who grew up without much family of his own, I have never felt more at home.

I wish everyone could know Mark Novak. He's remarkable. And, God is so especially fond of him. My heart grieves that I can't pack him and Char in my suitcase and take them with me. But, they will forever be in my heart and part of my family.