More healing for my once-fatherless heart happened in the car on my way home today.
Bob Hamp writes in Think Differently, Live Differently, "...the story is about the Fathering heart of God restoring the hearts of His sons and daughters. ... Without doing a thing, becoming who you are can change those around you and will ultimately be a part of God making all things new."
I heard Nelson Hawk's song Words on the radio today and his song became the prayer of my heart and my anthem as I've recently become more brave about telling more of my subplot in God's story.
I turned it up loud and sang along:
Let my words be life
Let my words be truth
I don't want to say a word, unless it points the world
Back to You
As the song played, I was declaring (very loudly) that in the telling of my subplot in God's story I wanted to always point people back to Him.
So all these thoughts about my future were swirling around in my head when the next song came on. I've heard it a thousand times, but it's never gotten through to me like it did today.
Matthew West's Hello, My Name Is undid me and the tears came and one hand is raised.....and the tears spilling over made it hard to drive. That's when you know you need to pull over and get your worship on.
Hello, my name is child of the one true King
I’ve been saved, I’ve been changed, I have been set free
"Amazing Grace" is the song I sing
Hello, my name is child of the one true King
I am no longer defined
By all the wreckage behind
The one who makes all things new
Has proven it’s true
Just take a look at my life
It's true. Even though my past has cast a long, dark shadow over my life I am not defined it.
Why does it always take my heart by surprise when My Heavenly Father finds me in the big middle of my messy life and whispers to me that I Am His Child? It's enough to make me stop what I'm doing, get my worship on, and exchange my tears for more healing for the still-broken places in my heart.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
"THAT NUMBER" Does Not Define Me
My weight does not define me.
My weight does not even begin to describe me.
It's a number. That is all.
#251.
There it is.
That number is not what I weigh today, and I hope to never see that number on the scale again.
In the meantime, while I continue the journey of making peace with my flesh and bones, I can tell you that there are times when I have allowed that number to silence me and keep me from doing things that make this world a better place. There have also been times when "being who I was created and redeemed to be" (as Bob Hamp defines the word freedom) has leaked out through the barriers that I have put up to help me feel safe.
For far too long and far too often I have allowed that number to define me and shape my identity. As I continue the journey of healing, that number will continue to change. Not because I obsess over it, but because of Who I am allowing to change me. Because of Who does define me and Who does give me my identity, which I have struggled with all my life.
It's taken me a long time to come to the place where I believe that I am worthy of His love and care, not because of what I've done (or not done) but because of what He did. Because I am His child.
Because each of the children that I birthed into this world was worthy of my love and care before they could speak or do anything of significance. The moment I held them in my arms for the first time they were already loved, secure, accepted, and significant in my life.
Matthew 7:11 says, "If you being [human*] know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask Him?"
[*human: I'm using the Greek definition of the word evil, meaning "in a physical sense: diseased or blind"]
Being human in this sense means that I can sometimes be described using any number of adjectives:
weak, hurt, injured, lame, ailing, battered, wounded, debilitated, crippled, maimed, traumatized,
messed up, broken, flawed, imperfect, defective, faulty, blemished, damaged, botched, cracked, leaky, marred, confused, unfit, dysfunctional, frail, crazy, deranged, unhinged, unstitched, unglued, unsteady, impaired, abnormal, unfinished, incomplete, twisted, warped, contorted, mangled
soiled, sketchy, adulterated, deficient, lacking, insufficient, deprived, inadequate, unsuitable, not enough.
Contrast those adjectives with just a few that describe my Heavenly Father:
good, whole, perfect, excellent, safe, strong, healthy, sufficient, enough.
Now read that verse again....."If you being [human] know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask Him?".
That number will change because there is One who describes me with words like: accepted, secure, and significant in His Kingdom. When He looks at me, He sees me and calls me "beautiful" and "beloved", and tells me that He is well-pleased with me. He was well-pleased with me the moment I was born (again) into His Kingdom and before I ever did one significant thing. My messed-up childhood, and growing up without a father, left me with wounds that made it hard for me to believe what I heard when He spoke those words over me. My journey to really believing it is true has been a long one.
There's a handful of people in my life that I'm hoping, if they read this and see that number they will be kind and compassionate, and will withhold judgement and not feel ashamed of me. My own shame about that number and my personal struggle with my weight has kept me from sharing more of my story with those who need to hear it. That number changes, daily sometimes, and it's a number that I have allowed to silence me for too long.
No more.
I thought it was okay for others who struggled with their weight to say and do things that make this world a better place, while holding myself to a higher (impossible) standard. A standard that goes something like this: "When I can 'pull it all together' and maintain that pulled together state over a long enough period of time (in other words, for the entire rest of my life), then I will have proved my worthiness. Then I can speak."
Because I believed I had to meet that higher (impossible) standard, I have, for the most part, kept silent. I have sat on my hands when I wanted to write, and put my hand over my mouth when I wanted to speak.
If I waited until I pulled it all together, and then held it all together, for the entire rest of my life, before I speak, well, you see the problem with that. I won't ever speak. No one will hear my story.
Those who know me well would tell you that I have spoken and written, and they are right. In spite of all my hangups, parts of my story have leaked out through the cracks!
If you only knew how long I resisted telling my story for the first time, and how hard I have worked to overcome all the obstacles that were in my way...
In her book, I Thought it was Just Me, Brene Brown writes, "Stories require [courageous] voices to speak them and [compassionate] ears to hear them".
This is only part of my story. I hope your compassionate response after reading this is, "I hear you."
Sunday, November 07, 2010
I love to read, and don’t read fiction very often. So it’s normally non-fiction (the “self-help” kind) that I read, usually with a pen or highlighter in hand, and so I leave my mark on those books. The good ones also leave their mark on me.
“Think Differently Live Differently” by Bob Hamp is no exception. I began to read it with great enthusiasm and with an unconscious expectation that my life would be changed as a result of me “doing” the things it said and secretly, I longed to be forever free from the effects of compulsive overeating, namely being “fat”. In other words, I’d finally lose weight - for good this time.
This issue in my life (compulsive overeating) is what had been the catalyst of me asking Bob for counseling years ago, before the book was ever written. I had attended one of the Freedom classes called “Overcoming Life Patterns” and knew that I needed more help than what I had received in class. That began a series of life-giving encounters with God through Bob and with the people involved with Freedom Ministries at Gateway Church. So when I heard that he was writing a book, it was obviously something that I looked forward to with great anticipation. I promoted the book before it was even published. And then after it was published, and before I had a chance to read it myself, I gave it away as gifts to people that I love and care about.
Then I started reading it for myself. I even volunteered to lead an online book study and began with great enthusiasm…until I got to chapter 8. On page 153, in big bold letters was the word “FOOD” and then a story is told about a woman who had some of the same issues I was facing. I highlighted a few things on that page, the last highlighted words being, “… (I held up my Bible), but there is real food in here.” Somehow, after reading and highlighting that sentence, I became too busy to continue this journey. I found reasons to avoid reading any further - all of them very “legitimate”. As a married woman with eight kids and a full time job, who could blame me for not having time to read?
All that changed this morning when I found myself in a quiet house, and was encouraged by my husband to spend some of my quiet time with God. It had been months since I’d picked up the book. With the clarity that hindsight provides, I can see now that I was afraid of reading any further and being disappointed. I didn’t want to be given a list of things to do, and find myself, again, having failed to do what I needed to do to be forever free from compulsive overeating. Since I was about eleven or twelve, I have used food to comfort myself and to ease the feelings of anxiety that remain all too familiar to me to this day. I know in my head that I am trying to fill a hole in my heart left by the devastating effects of my childhood and even some of the events of my grown up years – a hole that no amount of food can possible fill.
As I read, and as I began talking to God using the suggested prayers, and I quieted myself and began listening to God talk to me, one of the core lies that I have believed was, again, revealed:
“There is never enough.”
This is the same lie that was exposed many, many moons ago in my personal counseling with Joy over a period of about five years. Her words to me at the time the lie was exposed were, “Look for God’s Abundance.” I have done so in many ways and had experienced a measure of relief from the effects of the lie. So today, again, I am faced with the lie as it is exposed, along and its destructive effects on my soul. As I allowed God to talk to me, and to speak His truths into my heart once again, I was reminded of what I had learned before: “There is always more than enough.” With Him as my Source, there is always more than enough. In His Storehouse, there is an abundance of everything I could ever possibly need or desire. It’s only when I try to provide for my own needs, and use my own limited and unreliable resources (food) as my source of comfort and as a means of easing the anxiety that grips my heart when I look into the future and imagine going without (whether later that day, or in the coming winter, or in retirement), that I get all tangled up in the web of lies. The truth is, that I had more than enough food yesterday, I have more than enough food today, and will continue to have more than enough food tomorrow, and next week, and this winter, and on into my retirement. When I really think about it, how else could I eat “too much” if there wasn’t more than enough all around me?
So I’ve learned that freedom is not the absence of compulsive overeating. Freedom isn’t losing the excess weight and keeping it off. Freedom isn't finally being skinny again.
As Bob says in the last paragraph of the last chapter, “Freedom is not about doing good things and avoiding bad things. Freedom is not a matter of removing every last obstacle. Freedom is when you live life as the person you were created and restored to be. It is the unashamed response to the flame that leaps in your heart when you are near your destiny and your Destiny draws near to you. Without doing a thing, becoming who you are can change those around you and will eventually be a part of God making all things new.”
Restoration and redemption have been recurring themes in my life. Most recently, as I had prayed for a “Boaz” [a husband] and then watched, amazed, as God brought Stephen into my life. Once again, He provided more than enough. It was a source of joy and deeply fathering to my heart when Bob was able to perform the ceremony on our wedding day.
Even as I have stumbled my way around these truths over the years, and learned things, only to have to learn them again, I have watched the lives of my friends and family, and even strangers, change and be changed as a result of me being who I was created and restored to be. There is so much more of “God making all things new” that is desperately needed in the lives of the people that I love and care about and carry a burden for. It’s a relief that I don’t need to do anything and that I only need to be the person that God created, redeemed and is in the process of restoring me to be.
“Think Differently Live Differently” by Bob Hamp is no exception. I began to read it with great enthusiasm and with an unconscious expectation that my life would be changed as a result of me “doing” the things it said and secretly, I longed to be forever free from the effects of compulsive overeating, namely being “fat”. In other words, I’d finally lose weight - for good this time.
This issue in my life (compulsive overeating) is what had been the catalyst of me asking Bob for counseling years ago, before the book was ever written. I had attended one of the Freedom classes called “Overcoming Life Patterns” and knew that I needed more help than what I had received in class. That began a series of life-giving encounters with God through Bob and with the people involved with Freedom Ministries at Gateway Church. So when I heard that he was writing a book, it was obviously something that I looked forward to with great anticipation. I promoted the book before it was even published. And then after it was published, and before I had a chance to read it myself, I gave it away as gifts to people that I love and care about.
Then I started reading it for myself. I even volunteered to lead an online book study and began with great enthusiasm…until I got to chapter 8. On page 153, in big bold letters was the word “FOOD” and then a story is told about a woman who had some of the same issues I was facing. I highlighted a few things on that page, the last highlighted words being, “… (I held up my Bible), but there is real food in here.” Somehow, after reading and highlighting that sentence, I became too busy to continue this journey. I found reasons to avoid reading any further - all of them very “legitimate”. As a married woman with eight kids and a full time job, who could blame me for not having time to read?
All that changed this morning when I found myself in a quiet house, and was encouraged by my husband to spend some of my quiet time with God. It had been months since I’d picked up the book. With the clarity that hindsight provides, I can see now that I was afraid of reading any further and being disappointed. I didn’t want to be given a list of things to do, and find myself, again, having failed to do what I needed to do to be forever free from compulsive overeating. Since I was about eleven or twelve, I have used food to comfort myself and to ease the feelings of anxiety that remain all too familiar to me to this day. I know in my head that I am trying to fill a hole in my heart left by the devastating effects of my childhood and even some of the events of my grown up years – a hole that no amount of food can possible fill.
As I read, and as I began talking to God using the suggested prayers, and I quieted myself and began listening to God talk to me, one of the core lies that I have believed was, again, revealed:
“There is never enough.”
This is the same lie that was exposed many, many moons ago in my personal counseling with Joy over a period of about five years. Her words to me at the time the lie was exposed were, “Look for God’s Abundance.” I have done so in many ways and had experienced a measure of relief from the effects of the lie. So today, again, I am faced with the lie as it is exposed, along and its destructive effects on my soul. As I allowed God to talk to me, and to speak His truths into my heart once again, I was reminded of what I had learned before: “There is always more than enough.” With Him as my Source, there is always more than enough. In His Storehouse, there is an abundance of everything I could ever possibly need or desire. It’s only when I try to provide for my own needs, and use my own limited and unreliable resources (food) as my source of comfort and as a means of easing the anxiety that grips my heart when I look into the future and imagine going without (whether later that day, or in the coming winter, or in retirement), that I get all tangled up in the web of lies. The truth is, that I had more than enough food yesterday, I have more than enough food today, and will continue to have more than enough food tomorrow, and next week, and this winter, and on into my retirement. When I really think about it, how else could I eat “too much” if there wasn’t more than enough all around me?
So I’ve learned that freedom is not the absence of compulsive overeating. Freedom isn’t losing the excess weight and keeping it off. Freedom isn't finally being skinny again.
As Bob says in the last paragraph of the last chapter, “Freedom is not about doing good things and avoiding bad things. Freedom is not a matter of removing every last obstacle. Freedom is when you live life as the person you were created and restored to be. It is the unashamed response to the flame that leaps in your heart when you are near your destiny and your Destiny draws near to you. Without doing a thing, becoming who you are can change those around you and will eventually be a part of God making all things new.”
Restoration and redemption have been recurring themes in my life. Most recently, as I had prayed for a “Boaz” [a husband] and then watched, amazed, as God brought Stephen into my life. Once again, He provided more than enough. It was a source of joy and deeply fathering to my heart when Bob was able to perform the ceremony on our wedding day.
Even as I have stumbled my way around these truths over the years, and learned things, only to have to learn them again, I have watched the lives of my friends and family, and even strangers, change and be changed as a result of me being who I was created and restored to be. There is so much more of “God making all things new” that is desperately needed in the lives of the people that I love and care about and carry a burden for. It’s a relief that I don’t need to do anything and that I only need to be the person that God created, redeemed and is in the process of restoring me to be.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Undone
Once again, I am undone by Him.
This morning I was feeling “resistant” in my relationship with God, and I acknowledged that in my devotional time. This had been something that was an ongoing thing, and there was a “spiritual dryness” that I’ve known well in the past and was facing once again.
I knew that part of it had to do with an area of my spiritual disciplines where I needed to walk the walk, and not just talk the talk.
So this afternoon I took a very small action step, and did the first of what will become more, and bigger, action steps in the future. There was a relief in my spirit as a certain heaviness lifted, and I knew I was on the right track.
So as I am driving home, I heard a [new-to-me] song by Paul Simon called “Father and Daughter”. I've posted a link for those like me who've never heard it before.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqR24ODVlcE
Here's the chorus:
I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
That loved his daughter more than I love you
It made me think about my four girls and both of their father’s love for them.
Then my Father interrupted my thoughts and said, “This is about how I feel about you, Anna, and it has nothing to do with what you do, or don’t do. My love for you is not dependent on your actions. You already know this.”
The dam broke and the tears spilled out in amazement, once again, at how much I am loved. I realized in that moment is that I still have mixed up theology about God’s unconditional love for me.
Silly me.
This morning I was feeling “resistant” in my relationship with God, and I acknowledged that in my devotional time. This had been something that was an ongoing thing, and there was a “spiritual dryness” that I’ve known well in the past and was facing once again.
I knew that part of it had to do with an area of my spiritual disciplines where I needed to walk the walk, and not just talk the talk.
So this afternoon I took a very small action step, and did the first of what will become more, and bigger, action steps in the future. There was a relief in my spirit as a certain heaviness lifted, and I knew I was on the right track.
So as I am driving home, I heard a [new-to-me] song by Paul Simon called “Father and Daughter”. I've posted a link for those like me who've never heard it before.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqR24ODVlcE
Here's the chorus:
I'm gonna watch you shine
Gonna watch you grow
Gonna paint a sign
So you'll always know
As long as one and one is two
There could never be a father
That loved his daughter more than I love you
It made me think about my four girls and both of their father’s love for them.
Then my Father interrupted my thoughts and said, “This is about how I feel about you, Anna, and it has nothing to do with what you do, or don’t do. My love for you is not dependent on your actions. You already know this.”
The dam broke and the tears spilled out in amazement, once again, at how much I am loved. I realized in that moment is that I still have mixed up theology about God’s unconditional love for me.
Silly me.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
I Am Not Normal
I am not normal.
That's as good an introduction as you're gonna get, and the people who know and love me best will tell you it's the truth. There's hundreds of stories I could tell you, but I'll just start by telling you what happened this week instead.
(My girlfriends could tell you stories, too, but I hope they will keep their mouths shut, for the most part.)
"Normal" women like going to the mall to shop.
I get to the mall, and it sucks the life, and what little energy I might've had left, right out of me. My legs turn to mush, and walking becomes an act of my will.
I met a friend at the mall a few days ago. After five minutes, I surrendered to my abnormality, and begged to sit down. We went to grab a bite to eat, and then I took a nap on their shoulder, instead of going shopping.
Then yesterday I ended up at the mall again, somehow. Actually, I went because I love my daughter and she needed some "pre-wrap" from Claire's and had some money burning a hole in her pocket. (Don't worry, I didn't know what pre-wrap was either). By the time she was finished shopping and ready to go I was dragging myself out of there just wishing to be horizontal, or better yet, shot, and put out of my misery.
That's as good an introduction as you're gonna get, and the people who know and love me best will tell you it's the truth. There's hundreds of stories I could tell you, but I'll just start by telling you what happened this week instead.
(My girlfriends could tell you stories, too, but I hope they will keep their mouths shut, for the most part.)
"Normal" women like going to the mall to shop.
I get to the mall, and it sucks the life, and what little energy I might've had left, right out of me. My legs turn to mush, and walking becomes an act of my will.
I met a friend at the mall a few days ago. After five minutes, I surrendered to my abnormality, and begged to sit down. We went to grab a bite to eat, and then I took a nap on their shoulder, instead of going shopping.
Then yesterday I ended up at the mall again, somehow. Actually, I went because I love my daughter and she needed some "pre-wrap" from Claire's and had some money burning a hole in her pocket. (Don't worry, I didn't know what pre-wrap was either). By the time she was finished shopping and ready to go I was dragging myself out of there just wishing to be horizontal, or better yet, shot, and put out of my misery.
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