Broken

It hurts to be broken.

It’s being vulnerable, taking a risk with our hearts . . . sometimes winning, sometimes losing.

It’s leaning on others and opening ourselves up to them, to trust, to hope.  Sometimes finding support and acceptance and help, being caught before we hit the ground.  And sometimes being let down and battered, falling flat on our faces when others pull back and fail to catch us.

Sometimes, it’s just a minor annoyance, a pain that we absorb with relative ease, realizing that we are better for it.  And sometimes, it’s more pain than we can bear, feeling like we’ll never be whole again, wanting to curl up in a ball in a dark, lonely corner and fall asleep forever.

Being broken hurts!

And it leaves us different, changed.  It leaves tear-stains on our cheeks.  Scars on our hearts.  Bruises on our souls.  A limp in our walk.

Does anyone care?  Is God listening?  Does He see us cry?  Will He make it all better?  When will the pain end?  When will I go from just existing to really living?  Is this really all there is?

Being vulnerable is risky.  Being broken hurts.  No matter how much you care and how hard you try and how much you hope, life can be mean and unfair and unstable.  It can leave you exhausted and discouraged and depressed, unable to want to care anymore or try anymore or hope anymore.

It can make you want to claw your way out of your own skin, to claw right past the years of heartache that have buried you alive deep inside yourself, to bring out the “you” who hasn’t felt light and free and alive in such a long time.

It can make you want to run and run and run, as fast and as far as you can in any direction, just to get away from where you are.  Maybe even to get away from yourself.

It can make you feel like you're trapped inside a giant balloon that was pulled up over your head and tied shut ... and then the air got sucked out of it, sealing it tightly around your whole body ... and you can’t breathe ... and you begin to panic ... and you start to punch and kick, clawing at the balloon that is covering your face so that you can catch a breath of fresh air ... but no matter how much you punch and kick and claw, the balloon moves with you, like a “second skin” that you can’t take off ... you can’t breathe, you can’t get away from it ... all you can do is stop fighting it, stop caring, stop trying ... just lay down and accept it ... barely existing.

Being broken hurts.  And the scars that are left on your heart and your soul are ugly and tender to touch.  And they never really go away.

But . . . they make us more human.  They make us real.  The pain lets us know that we are alive.  That we need God.  And that it’s okay to need Him, to lean on Someone bigger than us when our strength is gone and our energy is spent and we have no other hope left.  We don’t have to do it ourselves.  We don’t have to fix it all.  We don’t have to be enough.  Because we can lean on the One who is!

We are human.  And that’s okay!  He loves us anyway!

Life will kick us all down at some point.  It will stomp on our heads and repeatedly kick us in the sides while we lie on the ground in a battered heap, crying and bleeding and hurting.

And when it does, we have a decision to make:

... Let the brokenness harden us more, making our self-protective walls stronger and thicker so that we can keep God and others out, protecting us from further risk and vulnerability and pain (which isn’t going to work anyway)

... or let the brokenness soften the walls around our heart so that God’s love can break through and flood it with His healing ... so that we learn that it’s okay to be human, to be more real with God and others, to let them see our pain and brokenness ... so that we can see and admit our need for grace and mercy and forgiveness and love and compassion, the very things that God offers us so freely ... and so that our heart becomes soft enough that it expands, filling with grace, mercy, forgiveness, love, and compassion for others, too, for those who hurt and are broken and who mess up, just like we do.

A heart that has never been broken - a soul that has never been humbled – cannot really understand its daily, desperate need for the Lord and cannot feel genuine empathy and compassion for others when they hurt.

Being broken either makes us more phony or it makes us more real.  It either makes us “different from others” or it makes us more human.  It either fills us with indignation and bitterness or with humility and compassion.  It either makes us shut down more or it brings us to life more. 

I choose real.

I choose more human. 

I choose humility and compassion. 

I choose life.

It’s okay to be broken! 

I do not regret the things that have broken me.

In suffering, I have learned to let go of control and idols and wayward priorities and the kind of “trust in God” that comes only when I am getting my way.  I have learned the difference between gratitude and entitlement, between humble faith and presumptuousness.

I have learned that it’s okay to not know the answers when you know the One who does, to be weak when you are leaning on the One who is strong, to fall apart in front on the One who can put you back together.

I have learned to trust Him, even in the dark.  To cling during the heartbreak and long trials.  To praise in the pain, instead of just when things are good and I’m getting what I want.  To be as content as possible in the “lack of . . .” and in the unfulfilled dreams because I know that this life isn’t all there is, the best is yet to come.

And you can’t learn these precious lessons during the easy times.  But only in the heartbreaking trials.

I do not regret the things that have broken me.

In suffering alone can you learn to say and really mean, “I need You.  I trust You, no matter what.  Your will be done.  It is well with my soul because I know You are there and You are walking with me and You are going to work it out somehow, even if I never see how until eternity.  My hope is in You.  My joy is in You.  Whether You give or take away, blessed be Your name!”

In fact, I have learned how stable He is only by going through times when everything else I trusted in was shaken to pieces, when all my efforts and dreams and hopes failed, when I was forced to simply sit at His feet in exhausted silence instead of trying to force my will on life, when I learned to “be still and know He is God,” even in the storms.

Because nothing else but Him is worth planting my feet on.  Nothing else really matters but His presence and comfort and grace.

Going through the world-shaking, sky-falling, self-confidence-crushing trials has taught me to listen more instead of just talking.  To follow instead of lead.  To transparently and humbly cry out to Him instead of stuffing my feelings and plastering on a “good Christian” smile.  To realize just how weak I am and how desperately I need Him, instead of just relying on myself.  Not just need His gifts or His help . . . but need Him.  Just more of Him.

Even when my world is shaking and the sky falls down around me, my feet are planted on a sure, stable Foundation.  The only sure, stable Foundation there is.

I do not regret the things that have broken me.

They are the things that have humbled me.  That have made me feel more deeply and purely.  Made me reprioritize, remembering that only the eternal things will last.  Made me stronger in invisible ways.  Made me learn that it’s okay when the bitter is mixed with the sweet, because that’s how life really is.  Made me more sensitive to others, more compassionate, more gracious.  Made me reach more for my God.  Made me learn what trust really is and what it really isn’t, helping me learn to still trust Him in the “no” and the “not yet.”  Made me more human, more real.  Made me know that I am alive and that pain isn’t all bad and that eternity is right around the corner.

While life might not be easy . . . it is worth it!  Because of who He is and because of how much He loves us. 

And someday, He will welcome us Home and all things will be made right again.  And we’ll see the beauty that was wrought from the mess, the perfect that was created from the broken.  And we’ll find eternal rest and joy for our souls.

And I can live with messy and broken until then.

I do not regret the things that have broken me.

Life is good (even when it’s not) because God is good.  A good, loving, gracious, merciful, forgiving, compassionate God.  And it is into His hands that I commit the broken pieces of my heart and my life, trusting Him to turn them into something wonderful.  And until then . . . I simply cling to Him.  Refusing to let go.  Because I know that He is real.  And He is good.  And He is love.  Always!

And so even when I don't understand what He is doing, I can trust Him. 

Always!

[Honestly by The City Harmonic]

My Panic Attack

            I wrote this in the post called “Random Facts about Me.  Just for Fun!”  It is #64 on the list.  But I think it deserves its own post.  So I reposted it here, a bit before the “Random Facts” list.  If you’ve ever had a panic attack, maybe you can relate.  I hope not, though.  Because panic attacks suck!

64.  I had a small panic attack three days ago (May 30, 2016.  But it’s posted in February because I wanted the blog to end there.).  It’s the first one I’ve ever had and I don’t plan on ever having another one.  [I also once had a minor nervous breakdown during my parents’ very messy divorce.  It was so bad that the only way I could start breathing and stop crying was to flee from everything, to jump in the car with my husband and two kids and run away to the middle of nowhere for a little while.] 

Is Depression a Sin?

            This issue came up recently when I was talking with some other women.  Someone had read off a list of sins and it included depression.  And one of the women asked the rest of us what we thought about that.  As someone who struggles with depressed feelings a lot, it got me really wondering if it’s right to call it “sin.”

            Of course, the word depression doesn’t appear in the Bible, so this issue requires some conjecture, some outside-the-box thinking.  But my first reaction to this question was:  “Calling it a sin isn’t going to help anyone who is struggling with it.  You can’t just say, ‘You are sinning and you need to stop it,’ and expect that someone is going to be able to go, “Oh, you’re right.  I’ll stop being depressed and start feeling joyful.’” 

            It doesn’t happen that way.  And it may actually be more harmful to talk like that.  In some ways, I think calling depression a sin is irresponsible.  It will only add to the pain and self-loathing someone feels instead of helping at all.  And it will make them want to pull back and suffer in silence.

Help for Anxiety, Depression, and Suicidal Thoughts

(June 12, 2018)  

It's so sad to hear about all the celebrities who have recently committed suicide (or about anyone who has committed suicide, for that matter).  My heart breaks for them, for the pain they went through, and for the ones who love them, for the pain they are now going through.  It is truly a tragedy.

To anyone who is hurting really badly, who is struggling with overwhelming anxiety or depression, who is considering taking their own lives ... I dedicate this post.  Please, take some time to look through some of the links here.  This is a round-up of some on-line resources or posts about dealing with anxiety or depression, particularly as a Christian.


But first:

Quick tips for help:

If you are desperate for some immediate help and don't want to look through the links I have below, try some of these (but if it's really bad and you might hurt yourself, call 911 or go to the emergency room):

War Rooms, Praying Scripture, and Spiritual Warfare

(reposted from my other blog - My Crazy Faith)

I strongly believe that there are angels and demons.  That prayer matters.  That there is a spiritual battle going on around us all the time ... and that we need to get involved in it, actively and consciously.  (Something I haven't been doing lately.)  

Regardless of if we want it or not, we are constantly facing spiritual battles.  But if we don't acknowledge them - if we stick our head in the sand and refuse to get involved, to put on our spiritual armor, to use the spiritual weapons that are available to us - we open ourselves up to deceptions, to defeat, to being very vulnerable to the strategies and attacks of the evil one.

What I have done here is compile a list of posts on spiritual warfare, on praying Scripture, and on creating a War Room (or War Journal).


Have you ever seen War Room?

You should.  It's a great movie.  And it is so relevant to real life.  To the life that is most real - the spiritual life.

It Takes Courage To . . .

It Takes Courage To . . .

            - Get up every day and do your job when you’d rather do your own thing.

            - Get up every day and do your job when you’d rather throw in the towel, curl up in a corner and cry.

            - Find something to be thankful for when so many things are going wrong and you’d rather have a “pity party.”

            - Focus on and enjoy your own blessings when others seem to have it “way better.”

            - Make do with what you have - to be content with it and find joy in it - instead of always thinking you need more in order to be happy.

            - Do the right thing, especially when it’s hard and unpopular and you have so many reasons to not do it.

10 Signs You Might be a "Desert Israelite"

            I have probably learned more about my own humanness through the Israelites in Exodus and Numbers than through anything else.  I used to think that they were somehow “more fallen” than I was.  That I could never be that faithless and disobedient and grumbley.  But as I have grown in my relationship with the Lord, I have come to realize that I am not that much different from them.  I struggle with the same things they do.  I am weak.  I falter in my faith easily.  And I complain way more than I wish I did.  Many times, I am just like an Israelite in the desert.

            Are you, too, like the Israelites in the desert?  If you aren’t sure, here are 10 signs that you might be one.  See if any fit.  And then read Exodus and Numbers (from chapter 10 and on) to see how God responds to them.  It is scary, humbling, and faith-changing.  (These are some of my favorite books in the whole Bible, along with Genesis, Deuteronomy, Joshua, and Judges.)  So here we go . . .  

Repost: Get Comfortable

            In our country, we are told over and over again things like:

            “Follow your heart.”

            “Make your own way.”

            “Never take ‘no’ for an answer.”

            “You can be anything you want or do anything you want.”

            “Apply yourself and all your dreams will come true.”

            (How else could we have so many reality shows where people want to be singers?)

            We are told that anything is possible.  We can make it happen by dreaming big and reaching high and wanting it badly enough.  In fact, look at all the commercials and advertisements that tell us that “We deserve it.”  It doesn’t matter what it is – a luxury car, a vacation, a break, a new phone . . . “We deserve it.”  And it doesn’t matter how little effort or hard work we put in . . . “We deserve it.” 

            But while these statements can be encouraging and can get young people to dream big and try hard and aim high (and become greedy), I think they can be misleading and give false hope.  For many of us, no matter how high we aim, we can’t seem to reach the moon.  Our great efforts fizzle and we end up crashing back down to earth, landing in the mud. 

            What about all those wonderful promises that we can get whatever we want and that “we deserve it”?     

Heart's True Desire

            “Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.”  (Psalm 37:4) 

            I used to think - hope - that this meant that God would bring us the things that our hearts desired.  If we desired stability, we would get stability.  If we desired marriage, we would find a spouse.  If we desired success, we would be successful.  If we wanted happiness, we’d be happy. 

            But this is simply not the way it is.  We don’t always get the “desires” of our heart.  People don’t always get the much hoped-for child, the healing, the stable home-life, the job, the house.  So how am I to understand that verse?  I mean, if I didn’t get what I desired then I would have to wonder if there was something wrong with my faith or the way I asked or if I was displeasing to Him.  If I wasn’t getting what I desired, was it Him or was it me?       

            Our search for the things that delight us can become more than just desires and wants.  They can become idols, something that consumes us, that we focus all of our energy on.  And this will negatively affect our emotions and our spiritual lives. 

Put That Burden Down!

            “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  (Matthew 11:28-30)

            What kinds of burdens weigh you down?  How can these verses be applied to your life?

            I think there are many different kinds of burdens that we carry around that we were never meant to carry.  And we need to put those burdens down and take Jesus’ yoke upon us instead.   

Denial

            “‘You will all fall away,’ Jesus told them . . .

            Peter declared, ‘Even if all fall away, I will not.’

            ‘I tell you the truth,’ Jesus answered, ‘today – yes, tonight – before the rooster crows twice you yourself will disown me three times.’

            But Peter insisted emphatically, ‘Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.’  And all the others said the same.’  (Mark 14:27-31)

           

            Peter was so sure that he would stand by Jesus’ side through thick and thin.  He spent 24 hours a day with Jesus for several years.  He knew Him to be a supernatural being, capable of miracles and healings and casting out demons.  He knew Jesus was the Truth in a sea of lies.  There was no way Peter would deny the Lord.  Knowing Him that well and having a deep faith and personal, intimate relationship with Him, who could possibly deny Jesus?

            Each and every one of the disciples. 

            And each and every one of us, too - that’s who!

Willing to Bend? Embracing Hope!

            Since the beginning of this year, I have been praying that God would give me a “word of the year.”  And for awhile, I thought it was grace - as in “My grace is sufficient,” as in finding His grace anywhere I can each day (even if I wish that so many things were different), and as in I need to extend more grace to other people.  I do not like the negative way I view people sometimes, quick judgments that I might make about them.  And I want to really “see the person behind the snap judgment.”  I want to be more graceful in my view of others.  So grace sounded good to me.  But I was the one who picked that word, because it seemed to fit. 

            But last night (Jan 28), I was praying again, “Lord, do You have a word for my year or month?”  I really wanted to know what word He wanted for me.  And just as I finished praying, the word “hope” popped into my mind.  “Hope,” it seems, is to be my word.  At least for the month of February.  (I am trying to ask each month for a new word, as part of my “Chicken Challenge,” posted earlier this month.)

            And as soon as I heard the word “hope,” my heart went, Oh, no.  Not that one.  I was a bit bothered that God gave me that word.  (As least I think it was from Him.  I am learning to identify when it’s from my own thoughts and when it’s not.)

            I know this is going to sound terrible, but hear me out. 

One-Penny Offerings

            “But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a fraction of a penny. 

            Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, ‘I tell you the truth, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others.  They gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything – all she had to live on.’”  (Mark 12:42-44)           

            Do you ever feel like your contribution to the Kingdom doesn’t really make a splash?  Because it is so small and unflashy, compared to others?  Do you ever feel like your spiritual accomplishments might seem laughable and pitiful?  Like you just don’t measure up? 

            I know I do. 

Rest!

            “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  (Matthew 11:28-30)

            This verse really speaks to my soul right now.  It is exactly what I need.  Rest.  To put down the burdens I carry around with me.  I’m just not sure how to do it.

            A couple days ago, I asked God one of my “250 Questions to Ask God.”  It was “Since You know what’s best for me, what do I need most right now?”  I had been struggling with concerns and frustrations and disappointments.  With God’s silence even.  And I didn’t know what to pray for anymore, but I needed to hear something from God.  So I asked Him this question.  Because I don’t know what I need right now.  I just know I need something.  And for a couple days, He didn’t answer.   

Gifts From God?

            James 1:2-4:  “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.”

            I am reading a book right now by a woman who lost her mother to cancer.  And she is struggling with the common Christian idea that all trials and tragedies are “gifts from God, meant for our good” and that we are to be thankful for them. 

            Are we supposed to accept infertility, fatal car accidents, chronically-ill children, divorce, disease, cancer, natural disasters, the death of loved ones, etc. as “gifts from God” that He has deliberately given us for our good?  Are we required to push away any pain or heartache or frustration because these are “gifts from God”? 

            I would say “No”!

Those Heavy Crosses!

            Matthew 10:38:  “and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me.”

            Oh, those crosses that we are asked to carry!  They can be so awkward, heavy, and discouraging.  Maybe it’s the cross of loneliness or a job you don’t like, financial concerns or a too-small house, a broken family or a difficult relationship.  None of us like to carry these crosses, these burdens and heart-aches.  That’s why we have to be told to do it.  Because our natural instinct is to not carry them, to try to get them off of our backs and take the easy way.   

            And doesn’t it often feel like you didn’t really do anything to deserve some of those crosses?  Like Simon (Mark 15:21), you are just walking along and minding your own business when, out of nowhere, someone grabs you and lays a cross on your back and forces you to carry it.  And the kicker is that Simon wasn’t even one of the people screaming for Jesus’ death.  He was from out of town, just passing through all the hoopla.  He wasn’t part of the group that was crucifying Jesus (as far as we can tell).  And yet, he was the one chosen to carry the cross.  What a shock!  What a change of plans!  What an incredible, unexpected, “unfair” burden!     

"Can" or "Will"

            “When the spirit saw Jesus, it immediately threw the boy into a convulsion. . . .

            Jesus asked the boy’s father, ‘How long has he been like this?’ 

            ‘From childhood,’ he answered.  ‘. . . But if you can do anything, take pity on us and help us.’

            “ ‘If you can’?” said Jesus.  ‘Everything is possible for him who believes.’

            Immediately the boy’s father exclaimed, ‘I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief.’”  (Mark 9:20-24)

            “A man with leprosy came and knelt before him and said, ‘Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.’”  (Matthew 8:2)

            “If you can” verses “If you are willing.”  These are two very different things.  One comes from a place of doubt, wondering if Jesus is really that powerful and if He can do what we are asking Him to do.  And one comes from a place of hope and trust, knowing that He can do anything we ask but that He might not and we will have to trust that He has His reasons.

            Jesus tells the first man that “Everything is possible for him who believes.”  If we don’t believe that Jesus can do something, we don’t ask.  We don’t persevere in prayer.  We don’t take any steps in faith.  Because we’ve already decided that it’s not really possible for Him.  And our unbelief prevents us from getting His help.

I am weak and I need You!

            What is it that we always say to encourage people going through a hard time?

            “God won’t give you more than you can handle.”

            But guess what?

            It’s not true. 

            “We do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about the hardships we suffered . . . We were under great pressure, far beyond our ability to endure, so that we even despaired of life.  Indeed, in our hearts, we felt the sentence of death.  But this happened that we might not rely on ourselves but on God, who raises the dead.”  (2 Corinthians 1:8-9)

The Heart of Prayer

            “I lift up my eyes to the hills – where does my help come from?  My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.”  (Psalm 121:1-2)]

            “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”  (Philippians 4:6-7)

            “Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”  (Psalm 46: 10)

            A couple months ago, I was struggling with prayer, with laying requests down at God’s feet, with asking Him for more.  I just couldn’t bring myself to “ask for more” when He’s already been so good to me.  I felt like an ingrate who wasn’t satisfied with what He gave me, like asking for more would be showing that I didn’t appreciate what He already gave me, like it would say that I wasn’t content or joyful with my life. 

            I found myself tripping over the words in my prayer. 

            “Lord, You have been so good to me.  And I am thankful for what I have.  I’m not asking for something else or something more because I am not thankful, I’m just trying to be honest with what’s going on in my heart.  We are supposed to be honest and lay our requests before You.  But I don’t want to seem like I’m not thankful or content.  You know that I am.   Or at least I really try to be.  But I still think it’s right to go to You with all wants and needs.  So I’m not coming to You with my requests because I’m not thankful.  I mean, You have proven to me how good You are by blessing me so much in the past, by always answering me, even if it’s not the answer I expected or wanted.  But You always listen, always answer, and have always been good.  And so I feel bad bringing another request to You, but . . . it’s just that . . . it’s just that . . .”

Why I Could Never Be an Atheist!

            “The fool says in his heart, ‘There is no God.’”  (Psalm 14:1)

             “For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities - his eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.”  (Romans 1:20)

            I have gone through some hard times recently.  Long, dry spiritual times, the kind that could leave you wondering if you only convinced yourself all along that there is a God.  He has been so silent, so distant.  My soul has ached for more than what He is giving right now.  I cry out but hear nothing.  I pray and pray about certain things.  And . . . nothing happens.  I want to feel like I matter to Him, and I guess maybe I expect Him to do what I am asking as a way to show me that He cares, that I matter.  But it doesn’t happen.