[As I write, it is the day before Independence Day in the US. The 4th of July. Parades, barbecues, gatherings of friends and family, and fireworks gloriously finishing off the day. Our fridge is filled with summer-sweet watermelon, cantaloupe, strawberries, and chicken ready for the grill. Today is quiet and full of introspection. Here’s what’s on my mind.]
I wasn’t born into a Christian family. We weren’t in church until I was 7 or 8. My mom had a church experience as a child and was saved and baptized but had stopped attending church years before I was born. She would say she stopped seeking God somewhere along the way in a difficult marriage. Not sure at all whether my biological father had any sort of faith. To this day, I’m thankful for Christian neighbors who loved us and invited us into their church family.
When I was 9, during a summer Bible school week, the message of God’s love and His deliverance from our self-serving, sinful hearts was immensely beautiful to me. Even as a little girl, I had unsuccessfully tried my hardest to be good for my mama. She worked so hard to keep food on the table for us (with no help from anyone), and I didn’t want to add to her burden. Still, like I said, being good wasn’t always my path forward. Then hearing that God was not put off by that, and, in fact, had made a way for me to be covered by His own righteousness through Jesus…well, it was the most amazing thing I had ever heard.
This wasn’t just a tickling-the-ears sort of experience. Not just a relief-generating tale for troubled child. It resonated with my heart and mind. It sounded truer than anything I had known before. Understanding, even as a child, that God had made a way for me to be free of the burden of my sin was really good news.
My pursuit of God actually followed His pursuit of me. He has never let go of me…even in seasons of my rebellion as a young adult. The shiny things of the world can be mesmerizing – popularity, higher education, professional favor, the stuff and experiences that work affords us.
In my 20s, I had a divided mind and allegiance. To some, it may not have seemed so, but I knew my own heart, and it was, for a time, lured back to old ways – a heart that could be both deceived and deceitful. However, by God’s grace, I did NOT stay in that place forever. He drew me back to Himself.
Reminded of the passage late in Jesus’ public ministry, when some of His followers fell away, He asked the apostle Peter if he would leave, too. Peter answered Him with the question that always brings me back to the reality of life: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” There is simply no one else…nowhere else to go. Period. Full-stop.
Well…that’s a bit of my story. Your story may look very different from mine. Since my 30s, as winding as the path may be, or as imperfectly as I follow it…there is no going back.
As we celebrate our freedoms as a nation, freedoms hard-won by those who sacrificed their lives for our sake, I also celebrate the freedom won by Christ whose own ultimate sacrifice won us back to Himself. Hallelujah!
Yesterday was Father’s Day with all the sweet and hard of such a day depending on your situation.
Today is Juneteenth – a huge day in American history that I never learned about until the last few years. Our Daily Bread Voices has provided an incredible documentary on Juneteenth – beautiful and redeeming.
This morning, rolling out of bed, I have so many thoughts pinging around my mind…thoughts and accompanying emotions. Missing fathers from our lives. A young woman with three small children facing eviction because of a father who abused and then deserted them. Afghan refugees and friends sorting through their own losses and fighting to build their lives here. Taking in the intensity of Juneteenth and the experience of freedom for all of us.
As happens sometimes, a simple song, and the not-so-simple question in its title, settles in my brain.
“How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?”
Whether the Bee Gee’s epic original or Al Green’s amazing cover. Here’s a more recent Bee Gee’s performance (2001):
Even when our hearts are not presently under attack, we share space with those we love whose hearts are breaking. A dear friend whose husband wants another future. A friend who spent his Father’s Day without his children (because his ex-wife chose a different future). Friends who lost their fathers before this Father’s Day…or parents who lost their children (whether to death or to an estranged life). Friends heartbroken over the what-ifs or what-may-never-be’s. Fill in the blank with your own. #BrokenHearts.
[Too heavy for a Monday morning? It does get better.]
Maybe you aren’t so aware of broken hearts. Maybe you haven’t had the experience of sitting on the phone of a friend scream-weeping at the hard reality of her life right now. Maybe you haven’t worked beside a friend whose stone face and deep quiet haven’t touched your awareness of what is going on under the surface of his silence…his pain.
Broken hearts can take us on spirals that lead to self-protective withdrawal, confused anger, terrifying isolation, or hard bitterness.
I also found some helps in a somewhat odd place: Kristin Weber‘s Adulting for Jesus. Whatever you currently think about Jesus, this book on adulting is refreshing, funny sometimes, and so real. Midway of the book she talks about developing something she calls Godly grit.
“Adulting requires learning how to fall and get back up again, and again, and again.” – Adulting for Jesus, p. 89
Weber presents 10 ways to shift perspective on the struggle (our heartbreak) and develop that grit:
Expect hardship. – “Western comforts have lulled us into the false assumption that life is meant to be easy and the hard moments few. In reality, much of life is hard, and the easy moments are the exceptions.” We can learn to live in such a way that difficult situations/relationships don’t catch us off guard.
Depend on God. – “…when a relationship [ends] abruptly, failure hurts – often deeply. We can be honest about our hurt and struggles while still trusting God.” We don’t ignore the pain of our broken heart, but we recognize that God hasn’t gone anywhere. He sees; He hears; He will work on our behalf.
Ask “What’s Next?” – “Rather than ask ‘Why me?’…ask a different question about life: ‘What’s next?’ Obstacles, especially a long string of them, can make us short-sighted. By asking ‘What’s next?’ we recognize this failure or hardship isn’t the end of our story…Hardships will undoubtably change you, but keeping a long-term perspective will prevent them from destroying you.”
Look at Adversity through Eternal Lenses. – “As a child of God your trials, both big and small, have an expiration date.” When our hearts are broken, we are consumed and exhausted by our loss. We can’t see down the road but so far. “Do the next thing”. Eternity comes but until then we grieve the loss, but we also train ourselves to stay in the moment and hope for a better future…a different future. We have that confidence in God’s care.
Appreciate the Bottom. – “A lot can be learned on the bottom step of the ladder”. Our broken hearts can bring us low…but that is not where we stay. That is not where we belong.
Develop Thick Skin and a Tender Heart. – “Try to be slow in getting offended and quick in extending grace. If someone causes you to have a knee-jerk reaction, that person controls you. That person has all the power…Choosing a calm response and keeping a level head, you remain free to live your life.”
Be Teachable. – “Though we don’t need to let the opinions and critiques of everyone we encounter control our lives, we do need people who can lovingly speak truth into our lives…Our natural instinct is to make excuses or get defensive when someone corrects us, but adopting an attitude of teachability puts us on the track to growth and maturity. We need to take ownership of our actions and be humble enough to receive input about where we can improve.”
Do Something. – “Big changes happen through tiny actions, and tiny actions require doing something.” Every day…step by step. #MakeYourBed.
Laugh. – “Once I learned to laugh at myself and find humor in situations that didn’t tip in my favor, I became less stressed and anxious about every little thing. I didn’t dread life or failure as much…Our hope isn’t ultimately in everything going our way, and humor keeps the weight of our circumstances from crushing us.”
Count Your Blessings. – “Instead of focusing constantly on everything that’s going wrong, take time each day to remember what’s going right. We might find our ‘gratitude attitude’ changes our entire outlook on life.”
Thanks, Kristin. I can tell you’ve known heartbreak and have learned to come out whole on the other side.
Closing out this Monday Morning Moment, for those of us who are sharing space with one or many dealing with broken hearts, we need to remember its pain, and have patience and compassion…be present, listen, and, when we can, speak the truth in love.
P.S. The Scripture verses are strong anchors and the links below are super helpful. None of us are in these broken spaces alone.
The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. – Psalm 34:18
My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. – Psalm 73:26
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. – Psalm 147:3
“I have chosen you and haven’t rejected you. Do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. – Isaiah 41:9b-10
“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” – Jesus – Matthew 11:28-30
God Is Our Fortress [To the choirmaster. Of the Sons of Korah. According to Alamoth. A Song.]
God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling. Selah
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, the holy habitation of the Most High. God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved; God will help her when morning dawns. The nations rage, the kingdoms totter; he utters his voice, the earth melts. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah
Come, behold the works of the Lord, how he has brought desolations on the earth. He makes wars cease to the end of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear; he burns the chariots with fire. “Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth!” The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress. Selah. – Psalm 46
Psalm 46 is a glorious and victorious psalm to encourage and embolden a people beleaguered by hardship (we don’t have details but given the context it was war, or some sort of calamity or terror). The psalmist was reminding the people that God is with them (with us) and will pierce through the noise of battle, with His powerful and persevering presence. He is here today just as much as He was with His people in the psalmist’s day.
Our part, like theirs, is to turn our ears, and our hearts, to Him.
Psalm 46 begins, not with a lament or cry for help, but an anthem of praise. “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear”. Then the psalmist goes on to talk about super fearful things…yet from a place of awe and certainty. Even as he speaks with great confidence about God’s presence and provision in times of catastrophe, the Lord Himself enters the psalm with the command “Be still!”
Not just “Be quiet” but “Be still”. Stop!
God calls both His people and our enemies to essentially “put down your weapons!”
Especially to His own people, He urges them (and us today) to ‘snap out of it,’ ‘wake up,’ ‘stop fearing’—acknowledge who God is—be in awe! For us to take His “Be still” and treat it as “be quiet” is not incorrect, it’s just not enough to describe what God is truly saying.”
In the midst of whatever struggle we find ourselves, God tells us to stand still and remember who He is.
There is probably good reason for not knowing exactly what to do to go forward or how to answer a culturally dividing question. When all we have is an “I don’t know”, then we need to stop trying to solve or explain things on our own. God is Lord and has already told us He will fight our battles and take care of our enemies. We are meant to deal with hard situations with patience and steady reliance on a God who cares for us and others in beautifully loving and faithfully complete ways.
When we still our hearts and minds and surrender ourselves again to God, peace comes, even when the earth gives way, or the mountains crumble (verse 2), or when nations go into an uproar and even kingdoms fall (verse 6). Life and work can overwhelm, and getting even more busy seems our only solution, remember Psalm 46:1, “God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.” We run to Him, we lay down our weapons and we fall into His arms. He is God and He is exalted in the earth.
We are to be still and know that He is God.
In this passage the Psalmist shows his trust in God and God affirms His own trustworthiness. It so reminds me of Moses, leading the children of Israel out of Egypt. That day when their fresh joy turned to sheer terror as, on their heels, the Egyptians came in hot pursuit.
Moses said to the people, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the LORD, which He will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.” – Exodus 14:13-14
When we cease striving, drop our weapons, and lean in to God in all His fullness. He fights for us…and for those we love. Rest in that. Stand in that.
There is a river.What does that call to mind for you? For me, living in a state that is criss-crossed with many rivers, it is a place of peace, of refreshment, of life, of abundance. My husband has a high-responsibility, sometimes high-pressure job. When he can, he finds his way to a river. Abraham Joshua Heschel has said, “If you work with your mind, sabbath with your hands, and if you work with your hands, sabbath with your mind.” Fishing on such a river allows a sabbath rest for that husband of mine.
Psalm 46 calls us to live in a sabbath rest with the Lord. We can’t always get to a river, but the river (so to speak) is always available to us in remembering the mighty God ever with us and ever battling for us.
O come behold the works of God the nations at His feet. He breaks the bow and bends the spear and tells the wars to cease.
O Mighty One of Israel You are on our side. We walk by faith in God who burns the chariots with fire
Lord of Hosts, You’re with us with us in the fire, with us as a shelter, with us in the storm. You will lead us through the fiercest battle, oh where else would we go, but with the Lord of Hosts.
O God of Jacob, fierce and great, You lift Your voice to speak. The earth it bows and all the mountains move into the sea
O Lord You know the hearts of men and still you let them live. O God, who makes the mountains melt come wrestle us and win. O God who makes the mountains melt come wrestle us and win.
Lord of Hosts, You’re with us with us in the fire, with us as a shelter, with us in the storm. You will lead us through the fiercest battle. Oh where else would we go, but with the Lord of Hosts.
Though oceans roar, You are the Lord of all, the one who calms the wind and waves and makes my heart be still. Though the earth gives way, the mountains move into the sea, the nations rage, I know my God is in control. Though oceans roar, You are the Lord of all, the one who calms the wind and waves and makes my heart be still. Though the earth gives way, the mountains move into the sea, the nations rage, I know my God is in control.
Lord of Hosts, You’re with us with us in the fire, with us as a shelter, with us in the storm. You will lead us through the fiercest battle. Oh where else would we go, but with the Lord of Hosts.
You are with us with us in the fire, with us as a shelter, with us in the storm. You will lead us through the fiercest battle. Oh where else could we go, but with the Lord of Hosts.*
Marriage…whew! Earlier in my adult life, I always cringed at the observation that marriage is work. It didn’t look like work, and having the opportunity to share life with your special person seemed more joy than labor.
Then I got married.
It is joy and it is work…not in the dull, redundant sort of work we may have from time to time…but as in the challenging, invigorating, problem-solving, “in it to win it” kind of work.
Many of us have benefited from good marriage advice through the years and seasons.
My favorite marriage advice actually comes out of Bible verses not usually considered for this purpose:
“You have left your first love. Remember therefore from where you have fallen; repent [return] and do [repeat] the first works.” – Revelation 2:4b-5a
These words were actually spoken by the risen and reigning Messiah, Jesus, in a vision given to the Apostle John. The words were actually spoken in rebuke and, maybe, compassion for the relatively young church at Ephesus. The believers had become complacent, almost mechanical in their worship and allegiance to God, standing by in a city where idolatry was flourishing.
In Jesus’ rebuke was a recipe for restoration. He, through John’s vision and writing, was calling the church back to a refreshed relationship with Himself. His counsel rings wise and true for any of us…if we have lost our first love in the Lord, or our first love with a spouse.
If you’re in a season when your marriage just feels flat, like you’re a couple of roommates, like the love you have seems faded, like you’re even considering a way out and not forward…then:
Remember what it was like in the beginning. What were you like? [Focus there NOT on what your spouse was like.]
Repent or return/turn around.
Repeat what you did/were like in the beginning.
I was a lot funnier then…and tender toward him. More positioned for him to protect me (which was what he is wired to do and it’s lovely when he is freed to do so). More spontaneously affectionate. More generous with praise and encouragement. More understanding of the loads he carries for our marriage (and later for our family). When I remember, return and repeat (in action and attitude), something sweet happens. Worth giving it a try…
In fact, our marriage has gotten sweeter in these later years (as marriages often do when we don’t give up on them). Following Jesus’ counsel drawing us back to Himself…and each other.
Is this always the case for everyone? Well…it helps when both are engaged in growing a marriage. One of the most freeing parts of the advice given is we are called to singular acts of will. If I decide to work on my marriage, I can make a unilateral decision. Remember how it once was, return to that beginning, and repeat those thoughts, emotions, actions. Our emotions will catch up, but as we act in restorative ways, our brains bring our emotions along as we change our current habits (neuroplasticity – amazing stuff!).]
Marriage does take a lot of work, and it can prove fruitful. Fun as well. A piece of advice was given to our son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law before they married over 12 years ago. It came from an older couple who had been in the audience of one of his concerts. They came up to meet him afterwards, and discovered he was soon to be married. Smiling at each other, this was their sage advice:
“Make love often. Always pull from the same end of the rope.”
This is the morning of exhausted grief. Jesus, the Messiah, God’s Sent One; His Only Son lay dead in a tomb. Dead. How is this possible?
The disciples, his family, those followers whose lives were transformed must have been numb with the stark reality that he was not with them…not on that Saturday. What would they do without him? What would happen to them? What? What? What?
There is only one scriptural reference to this day and it related to the threat of Jesus’ power and influence, even in death:
The next day, that is, after the day of Preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered before Pilate and said, “Sir, we remember how that impostor said, while he was still alive, ‘After three days I will rise.’ Therefore order the tomb to be made secure until the third day, lest his disciples go and steal him away and tell the people, ‘He has risen from the dead,’ and the last fraud will be worse than the first.” Pilate said to them, “You have a guard of soldiers. Go, make it as secure as you can.” So they went and made the tomb secure by sealing the stone and setting a guard. – Matthew 27:62-66
Because for the Jews, days begin and end at sundown, most probably this visit with Pilate occurred Friday night. At his command, guards were placed. The tomb was sealed. Jesus would be no more trouble….
He is dead: this man from Nazareth, the Messiah of Israel, the Lord of the world.
With His dying breaths, He spoke words of forgiveness, finality, and faith.
But now the breathing has ceased, and the lungs that exhaled forgiveness are deflated. My Jesus – dead.* – Trevin Wax
[Inserting here a talk done on Good Friday by a friend of ours – on the cross – fitting for today – then after her talk, I will close on Black Saturday.]
“What does the cross change?
“Everything” is perhaps our knee jerk reaction. The cross changes everything. But that can’t be right when we worship an unchanging God. God did not change at the cross. He was perfectly just before the cross and remains perfectly just today and will be perfectly just forever. He was perfectly loving before the cross, he remains perfectly loving, and he will be perfectly loving forever. He was sovereign, is sovereign, and will be sovereign forever. God did not change at the cross.
I think to see what changed we have to go back much earlier than Jesus’ lifetime. We have to go back to Eden. God created a perfect garden with a man and a woman and plants and animals. It was an oasis, idyllic, peaceful. And by peaceful I don’t mean free from worry or stress. I mean the hearts of Adam and Eve were at peace with God. It’s hard to imagine that. Hard to imagine no shame, fear, uncertainty. Hard to imagine walking and talking with God, completely vulnerable, knowing you were free from any sort of culpability. Adam and Eve were at peace with God, each other, and themselves.
Then they went to war with God. And each of us makes that same decision, to go to war with God, to sin against him and against our nature as image-bearers. We do not choose peace or freedom, we choose war and shame, darkness and loneliness. When I say war I mean we declare that there must be bloodshed. There must be death. Sin is a declaration that we will not live as God intended. God intended perfect peace. He intended that we all walk with Him, unashamed, in the light. We sin and we disrupt that plan. We may not desire the outcome of that sin, which is death, but the outcome is unavoidable.
So Adam and Eve sinned and that perfect peace was shattered and the cross became inevitable. As we read through the Old Testament, the cross feels like it’s in every story. We see God using men and women to foreshadow what is to come, the perfect prophet, priest, judge, shepherd, and king. We read the Old Testament and we see all the plans God set in motion to reach the cross. What we see also is imperfection. Imperfect prophets, judges, shepherds, and kings. Imperfect sacrifices leading to imperfect relationships. God is with His people but they cannot be at peace with him like they were in the Garden.
So, does the cross take us backward, to Eden? No. There’s no going back to Eden. That’s not the plan.
The cross is the culmination of the battle that started in Eden. We declared war in the garden and Jesus Christ declared victory at the cross. Oh death, where is your sting? We can ask that because the battle is over. Jesus Christ conquered death and we who believe have the promise of eternal life, starting today.
It’s strange though. It doesn’t feel over. I don’t feel at peace. Not with God, or others, or myself. It feels like the battle is very much ongoing and it often feels like I’m losing. So, what has the cross really changed?
I’m reminded of my favorite passage in the Bible, which is where Jesus is walking on water and Peter calls out to Him and Jesus says come. It’s an amazing story in so many ways but I’m always struck by the fact that Peter sinks and, it seems, is going to drown. Even with Jesus standing right there, standing on water exhibiting power over nature, declaring he is God, Peter is sinking under the waves. Jesus saves him, of course. But I imagine Peter, while grateful, was a bit unnerved by the sinking part. I’m reminded of this story because the reality of this Earth is that, while God is sovereign and He has won the battle over death, we do not live in Eden. We do not live in the new heaven and new Earth. We are waiting for Jesus Christ to return and while we wait, we will struggle. We’ll perhaps almost drown as we try to walk with God. But because of the cross, we will walk as freely as Adam and Eve walked with God. Death no longer has a hold on us.
So, we have victory over death because of the cross, which is our hope for the future. But what do we cling to in this daily battle? What else does the cross give us today?
I’d like to talk about just one thing.
When God looked at His Son, He was pleased. It’s such an amazing thought. That God looked from heaven at a man and was pleased. Picture it. Jesus is a man on Earth and God looks at him and addresses him and says He is pleased with him. That’s what the cross changes for us. When God looks at you who believe, He does not see your sin, He sees Christ’s holiness. He sees you, an individual He created in your mother’s womb whom He has loved from the beginning of time. But instead of your sin, He sees Christ’s holinesses. And He says, this is my daughter, in whom I am well pleased. This is my son, in whom I am well pleased. Imagine it. The sight of you pleases God. The cross means that we no longer have a broken and distorted relationship with God because we, unlike any person living before the cross, are holy in God’s eyes. No matter how putrid our sin is, no matter how many times we have declared war with God, for those who believe and repent, we can walk in the light, free from the burden of our sin. Like Adam and Eve, we walk with God in peace. Like Jesus, God looks at us and is pleased. I pray you can feel that today. Feel that God knows you, knows your name and your face and sees you and is as pleased to see you as He is to see His own Son. Not because you’re obedient or you are bursting with the fruit of the spirit. To believe that your good deeds can make up for putting Jesus Christ on the cross with your sin is folly. Our sin led to the death of God’s one and only begotten Son. We cannot make up for that with our good behavior. To try and do so is to deny Christ’s sacrifice.
The cross takes that burden away and replaces it with freedom. We are free to walk in peace with God and to know and feel that God is pleased with us because of the cross.
So what does the cross change? Us.” – Amanda, Good Friday reading, Sideris Church
We have the great knowledge of the risen Christ, but his followers, on that Saturday, only had dim recollection of his words of promise. Shrouded in grief, they found themselves quite “in between” – in between the death of their Savior and the life of his glorious promises.
Another dear friend of ours, Beth, shared this message by John Ortberg from a conference where he spoke on Black Saturday, well, “Saturdays” in general. He describes so well this day in between.
“Saturday – the day between the crucifixion and the resurrection. What do you think the disciples were doing on Saturday? Here they have seen their friend and their Master killed the day before but also have this vague promise, which probably seemed ludicrous at the time that he would rise again. Most of life is Saturday…It`s waiting in faith and hanging onto the promise that God is going to come through for us in spite of how bad things look. Most of life is Saturday. — I don`t know where you are this Holy Week. Maybe you`re in a Palm Sunday kind of mood wanting God to get on board with an agenda and maybe he will, but if he doesn’t, know that his plans are always good…Maundy Thursday means that God loves us no matter how dirty our uniform gets from the game of life. Maybe you`re in a Saturday kind of place – between a hard time and a promise you only half believe. Know this for sure that God`s Easter irony is still at work, and he can use even the worst tragedies for good, and he always has at least one more move left. No matter how bleak and dark Saturday gets, Sunday`s coming, and it`s coming sooner than you think. “ – John Ortberg
Saturday is the “in between day”. Did those who loved Jesus most remember this? Was their grief so consuming, so deafening to His promises, so numbing there was no room for hope? We have the great experience of knowing, for sure, that Sunday is coming!
Today is the waiting day.
We wait like schoolchildren for the final bell.
We wait with tapping foot, huffing breath, rolling eyes.
We wait like a mother for the gushing of birth water.
We wait like branches holding pink petaled secrets.
We wait with tears of frustration or eyes filled with anger.
We wait with tears of joy or eyes wide with wonder.
In the waiting rooms of life, our hope is mixed, our longings more so. But still, we wait. Forgive us for our impatience, Lord. We believe, help our unbelief.
We carry the sorrow of loss even as we hold on to hope of gain. We watch and we wait for your resurrection life. Even though we may not see the evidence, we wait with hope.
See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know Him. Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like Him, because we shall see Him as He is. – 1 John 3:1-2
As indeed he says in Hosea, “Those who were not my people I will call ‘my people,’ and her who was not beloved I will call ‘beloved.’” – Romans 9:25
No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. – Romans 8:37-39
From where do we derive our identity? The parts of us that we consider strengths or even weaknesses? The opinions of others? Our accomplishments or place in society? Our performance at work or play or church? The number of likes we have on a social media platform or reads of our blog?
What if we moved through every one of our days remembering how the Lord of the universe views us?
We are His beloved. Not out of our own worthiness from a human standpoint, but because of who He is. He loved us while we were still deep in sin (Romans 5:8). When we confronted our sin and asked His forgiveness, God not only forgave us but also made us heirs with Christ, adopted into His family forever (Romans 8:17).
Having that immeasurable love from God, how do we get tripped up by comparisons – fretting over how others see us (or even how we see ourselves in comparison to others)?
Pride. Be it self-congratulatory or self-deprecating. It’s still pride. Given how God has said Himself how He loves us, freely and unconditionally, we put such a burden on ourselves with this sin. How do we rid of it (sometimes daily, sometimes moment-by-moment)? By faith. Faith kills pride.
“All self-exaltation [or self-demeaning, I might add] is a re-crucifixion of Christ because he died to kill pride. Every boast, therefore, mocks the suffering of Jesus. And I end on this: every humble attitude, every humble act of faith, glorifies the grace of God in Christ.” – John Piper
Out of our faith in the work of Jesus on the cross for me, we can die to pride. The fruit of that is humility – that work of the Holy Spirit in our lives that allows us to receive and rest in the transcendent love of God.
“C.S. Lewis in Mere Christianity makes a brilliant observation about gospel-humility at the very end of his chapter on pride. If we were to meet a truly humble person, Lewis says, we would never come away from meeting them thinking they were humble...The thing we would remember from meeting a truly gospel-humble person is how much they seemed to be totally interested in us. Because the essence of gospel-humility is not thinking more of myself or thinking less of myself, it is thinking of myself less. Gospel-humility is not needing to think about myself. Not needing to connect things with myself. It is an end to thoughts such as, ‘I’m in this room with these people, does that make me look good? Do I want to be here?’ True gospel-humility means I stop connecting every experience, every conversation, with myself. In fact, I stop thinking about myself. The freedom of self-forgetfulness. The blessed rest that only self-forgetfulness brings.” – Tim Keller
This has been on my heart daily this week in wrestling down thoughts of inadequacy and insignificance. Then God gave me a song on the radio: Belovedness by singer/songwriter Sarah Kroger. Slayed by His love. All over again.
Kroger beautifully writes about this song here. She says:
“Five years ago, I was introduced to a book called Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen that changed my life. The book revolves around the idea that every day we’re surrounded by voices. The voices of society, negativity, lies we’ve believed, our peers, etc. What would it look like if we could silence the noise and listen to the voice, that at the center of our being, calls us “beloved”? While reading the book, I realized that instead of owning and living out of my belovedness, I was only owning my mistakes. My journey is far from over, but I work every day to own the truth of who I am.
Our identity isn’t based on our accomplishments or failings, what people think about us, or how we view ourselves in the mirror. Our identity is that we are the beloved children of a relentless Father who loves us unconditionally.
I’m reminded of a stained-glass window in a chapel in which I used to spend a lot of time. The image was of Jesus holding a sheep close to his chest. This is the goal of a Christian. To be so close to the heart of the Shepherd that you hear His heartbeat and can conform your life to that rhythm. When you do this, you’ll go into each day knowing you are loved, not looking for ways to earn it. This is freedom.” – Sarah Kroger
God’s love for us is utterly without any merit of our own. We receive His love by remembering. Who He is and who we are in Him and alongside our brothers and sisters. Putting self in its proper place. Crucified.
Dave and I are so privileged right now to be in a season of community with a group of young people (20s-30s). I can’t even put into words what it’s like being in the same room with them. They are welcoming to one another as it must have been with Jesus when He sat at tables with publicans and sinners (of whom we once were). Not that these precious ones are perfect, but that isn’t the point, is it? You are just wrapped in the delight of Jesus in this place…in this space of the week with them. There is a winsomeness, a joy in discovering, a deep affection, a celebration of each one who enters the room. God has given us other communities where we’ve had this experience, and I’m grateful for each one. I hope you have such community. If not, seek it out. God doesn’t mean for us to be isolated, left to our own tough thoughts. He means to pour His love on us and He chooses to do some of that through the church.
Worship with me…and believe true what He says about Himself and what He says about you.
You’ve owned your fear and all your self-loathing You’ve owned the voices inside of your head You’ve owned the shame and reproach of your failure It’s time to own your belovedness
You’ve owned your past and how it’s defined you You’ve owned everything everybody else says It’s time to hear what your Father has spoken It’s time to own your belovedness
He says you’re mine, I smiled when I made you I find you beautiful in every way My love for you is fierce and unending I’ll come to find you, whatever it takes My beloved
You’ve owned the mess you see in the mirror You’ve owned the lies that you’re just not enough You’ve been so blinded by all you’re comparing It’s time to own your belovedness
He says you’re mine, I smiled when I made you I find you beautiful in every way My love for you is fierce and unending I’ll come to find you, whatever it takes My beloved
You are completely loved and fully known Beloved, believe He died to make your heart His home
And He says you’re mine, I smiled when I made you I find you beautiful in every way My love for you is fierce and unending I’ll come to find you, whatever it takes He says you’re mine, I smiled when I made you I find you beautiful in every way My love for you is fierce and unending I’ll come to find you, whatever it takes My beloved It’s time to own your belovedness*
Now Thomas, one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came [after He had risen from the dead]. So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord.” But he said to them,“Unless I see in his hands the mark of the nails, and place my finger into the mark of the nails, and place my hand into his side, I will never believe.”
Eight days later, his disciples were inside again, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side. Do not disbelieve, but believe.”Thomas answered him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” – John 20:24-29
When Jesus appeared to his disciples after his horrific death on a Roman cross, he was alive again. Not a ghost but in a glorified body. Jesus resurrected. Never to die again. As he confirmed his identify to Thomas, the struggling to believe disciple, he, knowing all things, offered the proof asked for.
Wound marks. From the nails hammered into his hands and the spear thrust in his side on the day he died for us. God the Father must have known these marks would form into necessary scars…for at least one to believe. The scars of a savior…the Savior.
“Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.”
That’s us.
Yet we benefit from that brother Thomas who, in his grief, still needed a sign that Jesus was alive again.
We all bear scars of some sort or another. Scars of abuse or loss. Disappointment or betrayal. Scars from hating and being hated. Unforgiveness or caring too little. Even scars of victory, as were the scars of Jesus. Wounds we received, even standing, as the Lord fought our battles for us…and won. Jesus has such scars of victory.
A friend of mine died this week. Becky Cole. We have known each other for over 35 years. We met in church in East Tennessee. I was pregnant with my first born, married to a good and Godly man, financially stable…in a really good place. She was pregnant with her first and would be only child. A son. She was a single mom who took herself out of an abusive home and away from a man who she feared would abuse her child as well. She had a heart full of love for that little boy now grown up into a gentle and accomplished man who made her proud.
She also loved Jesus which was clearly the biggest steadying force in her turbulent life.
We moved away from Tennessee in 1994 – almost 30 years ago, but we never lost touch. The phone would ring, and we would start up right where we left off. Did we always agree on things? Absolutely not. Still, I admired her tenacity so much. If something needed to be made right, she would not give up on it. She was a fighter. An activist. An advocate.
Did she have scars? Absolutely! She just wasn’t afraid of a fight.
If there was ever a Mama Bear, it was Becky. Much of her mid-life she was what some might label a welfare mom, but as happens with stereotypes, she was so much larger than one who sought aid from the state. So much more.
She fought for her son to have the best life she could give him. Plagued with health problems, she wasn’t always able to work. That did not stop her from being deeply concerned and involved with her larger community, not just for her sake but for those around her. She tried to make life better; tried to help people with power and authority to do better. I know I was better knowing her…being her friend.
As she grew older, her health issues worsened, as happens in life. Her son became successful with work and married the love of his life. Becky kept fighting to make the world a better place…for her son…and she kept fighting to live…until this week when the fighting came to an end.
I was actually shocked when her son told me she had died. She had been at Duke University under evaluation for one more surgery that would have hopefully given her more time and more quality of life… but she just wasn’t a good candidate, they said. She was too far spent.
We talked before she traveled to Duke. She was hopeful. I committed to pray. We wouldn’t talk again. She texted me that the surgery wasn’t going to happen and she would be placed on hospice care. That was hard to hear about someone as full of life as Becky, although I knew she had been so sick. I called and texted through the last days of her life…she has never not picked up or answered a text…until now.
For Becky, the fighting was over. She would go Home. Once that was settled, I wonder what it must have been like for her to “lay down her weapons” for the last time. Thank You, Jesus.
All the week while she was at Duke, the Casting Crowns song “Scars in Heaven” seems to have been on auto-repeat on my Christian radio station. Listening to the beautiful truth of this song, I thought of Becky…and prayed.
“I know the road you walked was anything but easy You picked up your share of scars along the way Oh, but now you’re standing in the sun, you’ve fought your fight and your race is run The pain is all a million miles away.”
If I had only known the last time would be the last time I would’ve put off all the things I had to do I would’ve stayed a little longer, held on a little tighter Now what I’d give for one more day with you ‘Cause there’s a wound here in my heart where something’s missing And they tell me that it’s gonna heal with time But I know you’re in a place where all your wounds have been erased And knowing yours are healed is healing mine
The only scars in Heaven, they won’t belong to me and you There’ll be no such thing as broken, and all the old will be made new And the thought that makes me smile now, even as the tears fall down Is that the only scars in Heaven are on the hands that hold you now
I know the road you walked was anything but easy You picked up your share of scars along the way Oh, but now you’re standing in the sun, you’ve fought your fight and your race is run The pain is all a million miles away
The only scars in Heaven, they won’t belong to me and you There’ll be no such thing as broken, and all the old will be made new And the thought that makes me smile now, even as the tears fall down Is that the only scars in Heaven, yeah, are on the hands that hold you now
Hallelujah, hallelujah Hallelujah, for the hands that hold you now
There’s not a day goes by that I don’t see you You live on in all the better parts of me Until I’m standing with you in the sun, I’ll fight this fight and this race I’ll run Until I finally see what you can see, oh-oh
The only scars in Heaven, they won’t belong to me and you There’ll be no such thing as broken, and all the old will be made new And the thought that makes me smile now, even as the tears fall down Is that the only scars in Heaven are on the hands that hold you now.
[Today is Mom’s birthday – 20 of them now in Heaven. This blog adapted from the Archives. ]
Our little family has never lived close to the grandparents. This was not easy…for any of us. Before I married, I lived close to home, and Mom was my best friend. She died 20 years ago, and I still miss her every day. To people who knew her well, I would often say “when I grow up, I want to be just like her.” Still working on that.
Mom and I shared a weakness for words…they are probably excessively important to us, delivering both positive and (sometimes) negative weight. She was an amazing encourager. She rarely missed an opportunity to lift another’s spirit or to speak loving truth to someone desperate for God’s touch.
When I moved away to take a teaching job, she and my dad helped me with the move. New Haven, Connecticut would be a 2-day drive from Georgia. At that time, it was the farthest I had ever lived from home. She stayed a week to help me settle in. While there, she was such great company. We explored the city together and laughed over a new culture and cried at the missing that was ahead for us.
She filled my freezer with her baking, and, while I was at work, she wrote notes. Then she hid them everywhere. After she flew home, I began finding them. In my coffee mug. Under my pillow. In the pocket of my coat. Among my reference books. Behind my music books on the piano. She was with me in the love notes she left, and it made the distance between us…less.
My mom and I also had a weakness for bits of paper. I have kept every one of her notes. These from that move over 30 years ago are fading…red ink on pink paper. There is a lifetime of notes between Mom and me. The tradition she started on that first move has become a life-long tradition for our family. Our visits back and forth, across the US and then the globe, have been papered by these little notes.
Our children, from the time they could write, entered into this tradition much to the joy of their grandparents. Before we would leave from visits with them, these three young ones would write of their affection for their grandparents and hide them all over their houses. I delighted in their cooperation in this conspiracy of love.
Mom always wrote notes…not just to us but to so many. She and her Sunday School Class ladies would send cards every week to the sick ones or the sad ones. She had a special burden for the elderly, for widows (including functional widows, deserted by husbands) and for fatherless children (again including those “orphaned” by still-living fathers). She inspired me by her humble ambition .
Pure and undefiled religion before our God and Father is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself unstained by the world. – James 1:27
I am so thankful for my mom’s bits of paper…for her love…and for her perseverance in encouraging and serving others. Her generation is sadly almost gone, and it is for us to pick up these traditions, or traditions like them. Passing them on somehow to the next generations…Maybe there won’t be bits of paper or love notes like in the past. I do hope we still take the time to write. Definitely, the call to serve and to encourage is as current as ever. My life continues to be rich with those, young and old, who reach out with words of kindness and encouragement. Written or spoken, they are love notes to the heart.
Thanks, Mom. After twenty years, many may have forgotten you for now. Many more won’t know of you this side of Heaven. Your life may have seemed small, but it was larger than life to me. Thank God for you.
Therefore encourage one another and build up one another, just as you also are doing. – 1 Thessalonians 5:11
Have you ever found yourself in a season of waiting that seemed as if it would never end? Maybe you’re there right now.
The more pivotal thing about waiting is what we do with it…can we stay on top of the entitlement and all its turbulent emotions when they are unsatisfied? That is a goal worthy of pursuing. Treating the waiting not as a waste but as a way to wisdom.
Just this morning, I was waiting with a friend for a promised outcome. She is an old grandmother, resettled here from another country, with few resources.
She had the hope this morning of receiving some much-needed dental work ( in process for several months now). Today was to be the day for her to receive the last treatment – the fitting of a partial denture which would allow her to enjoy eating again.
It did not happen.
For whatever reasons it was delayed and more appointments would be made. Apologies and explanations were made, and the grandmother pulled herself up out of the dental chair one more time. We weren’t entitled to a different outcome. She is receiving free care through a local university and foundation. So why did this make me so angry and sad at the same time?
I was sad for this sweet grandmother who has already been through so much this year. Sad for myself, as her driver, for another series of appointments ahead of us. Even a little sad for the dental student breaking the news to us. And close-to-tears angry that either we misunderstood or someone somewhere dropped the (proverbial) ball.
As I collected myself and came back to my senses, I was reminded (in the conversation going on in my head) that this was a small thing. What if I was waiting on a big thing?! What would my response be to that?!
In years past, cancer nursing was my profession. Talking to a friend about this whole waiting thing, she recalled what so many cancer patients go through in waiting – for biopsy results, for treatment decisions, for blood counts to come back, for reevaluations of their cancer, for…for…for. We wait. To conceive that much-longed-for baby. To meet that person we will spend our lives with. To hear the outcome of elections or military coups. To determine if we prepared well enough for landfall of hurricanes.
Big things and small things all require waiting in life. We either wait in wasteful, blaming, soul-diminishing ways or we wait in wisdom.
Maybe it’s in the wait that we find what matters more.
In the minutes that tick by, we re-order our thoughts toward life and hope and possibility. Photo Credit: Heartlight
By the time my grandmother friend and I left the dental clinic this morning, we were better. No blaming. No feeling mad or bad. We accepted that today wasn’t the day we would say our goodbyes to this long waiting. It was just another day situated in between more to come. I didn’t resign myself to the disappointment, but rather determined it would not rob me of the joy of the day. We would be back, and, one day, she would get what we originally came for, months prior.
Don’t get me wrong about waiting. I have, at times, pushed back against it. Not just for myself but because it was a disservice to someone else. There does seem to be a pecking order in waiting…the poor and marginalized are required to wait the most, it seems.
When waiting generates a disturbance in our hearts that takes us nowhere good, then we must check it, and check our reaction to it. In that space, we can choose to change direction and keep our heads and hearts at peace. We can choose a way to wisdom, rather than an explosive, diminishing waste of the waiting.Photo Credit: Elisabeth Elliot, AZ Quotes
Waiting can be exasperating…and any engineering to decrease it is a beautiful thing…so there’s that for which to be thankful. Also, what is the object of our waiting. If we look to people to always deliver (in a timely fashion), they (we) will disappoint. If we can take our eyes of people and on to God, waiting becomes a very different experience.
Two of my favorite verses from the Old Testament speak of this:
I waited patiently for the Lord;he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction,out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock,making my steps secure. – Psalm 40:1-2
Those who wait on the LORD Shall renew their strength; They shall mount up with wings like eagles, They shall run and not be weary, They shall walk and not faint. – Isaiah 40:31
Even Jesus on his last day of life on earth waited…until all of the prophecies were fulfilled. While hanging in pain on the cross, He waited until just the moment all were fulfilled, and then he gave his last breath. Wow!
May we learn to wait as the Messiah did with loving perseverance and hope of a greater future.
“While we are waiting for these things to happen, make every effort to be found living peaceful lives, pure and blameless in His sight. Consider the patience of the Lord as salvation.” – 2 Peter 3:14-15
My older brother was 10 when he handed off our infant brother into my small arms in the backseat of the car, as Mom drove us away. 4 kids driving away from my biological father. I was five years old.
That father didn’t disappear from our lives just after the divorce. He already had, while still living in the house. Mom was the sole provider, and she hired babysitters for us because, although our father didn’t work, he also didn’t take responsibility for caring for us.
The three smaller of us kids have no memories really of those years. My older brother has since died, but I wish I had asked him about growing up with our dad. He never shared any positive memories in those years following that day of leaving. He actually shared no memories and he, at 10, was old enough to have some.
I have written about the topic of generational sin previously, but I wanted to return to this subject, maybe one last time (maybe not). The reality of sin passing through generations is sobering. When we have experienced harm, or at the very least, a lack of care from a parent or parents, we are at risk of repeating that exact same harm in our own children’s lives. As a parent myself, I want any generational sin to stop right here!
We don’t want to linger in the past, nor do we want to disparage a parent, especially one who has since died. “They did the best they could” is often what we say and hear. I’m not at all about blaming parents for ill treatment of their children, but I do think when we refuse to acknowledge the wrong or harm done to us, then we may find ourselves repeating those same patterns with our own children – patterns we learned too well ourselves growing up.
We can change the course of our lives…and that of our children…and it’s not just through distancing ourselves from parents who harmed us. Otherwise all we teach our children is how to disengage. We don’t give them the skillset to recognize harm and disarm the situation. When we feel the victim, we too often teach our children more what that looks like, rather than how to turn it around for our sake and theirs…and maybe even for our parent(s).
In my family’s childhood home, neglect and abandonment happened even with both parents in the home. Mom was working; she had to work. Given that, she had no choice but to place us in the care of others. Somehow I felt a strong attachment to my Mom following those years (maybe even during those years living with our dad). I’m not sure if my brothers had the same experience, since their dad just wasn’t there for them. Was it harder for them because their same-sex parent wasn’t bonded to them?Photo Credit: Gabor Mate, dr_anniephd, Instagram
We are not left without help these days. Even on social media, we can find solid counsel (even when we can’t afford or feel awkward going to a counselor in person). Check out the full thread of Dr. Nicole LePera’s below (she posts helps every day).
Whether we experienced abuse, neglect, abandonment from our fathers, or our mothers…the impact of their lives continues with us through ours…either steering us along the same course or moving us to take a very different one. We can keep our distance from those sinful patterns as adults without necessarily sacrificing those relationships. That’s a whole other pattern we can guide our children in – that of understanding, humility, and forgiveness.
My father disappeared from our lives. The neglect and abandonment present in our preschool years became permanent. We would never know him…what his own growing up years were like…why he couldn’t seem to love us. We would never know. What spurs me on is the profound love of a great mom and a steadfast God. I know my siblings and I have experienced some sort of imprint from previous generations, but recognizing it is a huge step forward. We then can steer clear of its negative impact on us and our children.
If you experienced harm from a parent, you may not be able to do anything to change that situation, but you can be an instrument of change in your own life…and for the sake of your children.
Also, even with the gift of a deeply loving and bonded parent, like our Mom, don’t be surprised if she/he hasn’t endured trauma from their own childhood home. Be aware of that generational connection.
Understanding the possibility of intergenerational transfer of trauma is not to make victims of a future generation. Understanding allows us to recognize if we have vulnerability and to set in place healthy barriers against the impact of our parents’ trauma.
I actually don’t know what my father’s childhood was like. My mom grew up with an alcoholic father who vented his frustrations about life on his wife and children. Mom stood against his abuse of her own mother and brothers. Her fighter responses were tempered as an adult when she became a believer (follower of Christ). Still that quickness to take offense and wariness of mean-spiritedness were reactions she had to fight all her life. I see that also in myself. – Deb Mills
In The Lord of the Rings, there is a powerful scene of Gandalf standing between those in his care and a monstrous enemy. He called out to this evil creature: “You shall not pass!” When it looked as if he had victory over the beast, he turned his back away from him. This turned out to be disastrous (minute 1:50 into this scene below). There’s a lesson here that just ignoring trauma, even when it feels like we’ve put it behind us, won’t keep it from rearing up again. We are wise to be alert, aware, and prepared for its circling back around.
Boundaries are talked about a lot these days. Forgiveness also… True forgiveness is actually its own boundary. It keeps our hearts tender and our minds free to take a better path in parenting and in relationships, in general. Like in Gandalf’s situation, we would be unwise to prematurely think we have conquered the evil of generational sin. That sin that may have been transferred to us, if not genetically then familially.
Not to despair. Being vigilant is wise in two areas: 1) guarding our hearts against bitterness and hatred toward our parents and 2) caring for and leading our children in the same ways. We have vast resources available to us these days, and we have a God who does not turn away from us as we seek to love as we are loved. No matter what kind of love we received (or receive) from our earthly parents.
“He Himself has said, ‘I will never leave you or forsake you.’ Therefore, we may boldly say: The Lord is my helper; I will not be afraid. What can man do to me?”– Hebrews 13:5b-6
Finally, I want to leave you with this encouragement of steps you can take towards bringing an end to the “sins of the fathers” – at least detoxifying it for the rest of your life and future generations. What would you add to this list? [Share in Comments.]
If you are willing, pray for the person who has harmed you. Not necessarily for them to change but for God to bless them. Weird, right? The winsomeness of this sort of prayer is the impact it has on our own your own care for that person. Our hearts are tendered when we pray.
Tell your story. All of it. To someone you can trust. Someone who will not just sympathize or take up an offense against that person but who truly cares for you and your own healing.
If abuse is part of your story, sort out boundaries without building walls. The walls not only keep that person out; they imprison us within. They also teach our children that walls are the way to go when harm happens…more prisons.
Recognize the sin in “the sins of the fathers”. You may already see a leaning toward it in your own life as an adult. Put safeguards (accountability) in your life to help you choose another path.
Seek understanding (you may need a counselor or that trusted friend above). For health and healing, don’t try to figure this out by yourself.
Remember the one who harmed you may have also been similarly harmed. The sins of his/her own fathers and grandfathers could be imprinted on his life and actions. Not justifying the behavior here but recognizing it might not have started with his relationship with you.
Resist blaming. We want to avoid living as a victim. This is definitely contagious for our children. The person who harmed you did wrong. Calling it sin is a start, then, rather than blaming, forgive. No small thing. When we blame, we carry the brunt of the sin with us into our adult life…with the pain we experienced as a 5 y/o, or 15 y/o. As an adult we can look at that pain with mature eyes. It was wrong, but blaming empowers the sin to continue hurting. We are grown now and don’t have to come under that hurt anymore.
Pursue peace, as much as you yourself can (Romans 12:18; Psalm 34:14; Hebrews 12:14-15. Reconciliation is extremely hard work. We resist it. That work of resisting, trying to ignore that person, carving out our lives away from that person, pretending it doesn’t matter – so much more exhausting and debilitating. Reconciliation requires at least two people, but it can start with one and hopefully the door stays open for future possibilities.
Don’t be deceived thinking you will not fall into the same hurtful pattern you experienced. We can pass that onto our children without even trying…hard warning here. It may look different but it is not gone without our determination to end it with us.
Acknowledge that more people are affected by this sin (for me, neglect and abandonment) than just you and your dad. What is your hope, your goal? If it is just to lessen your own pain (which matters), those who love you will join into the work of that…and its burden. What can you do to lessen that burden on yourself and those around you? [This is a big step forward.]
Increase your capacity for tolerating negative emotions. [See link below.] They do not have to disrupt your joy or destroy your peace. They are indicators for what’s going on under the surface. You don’t have to live in them. They are actually helpful in pointing to next steps.
Do what you can to nurture the relationship. Don’t expect your father (or mother) will have the same skillset nor understanding that you have developed over time. Give grace.
When we give grace, we experience the bountiful good of it ourselves, and our children learn a huge life lesson that benefits them as well.
In the end, we seek to forgive. We can say we forgive but if we keep putting bricks in the walls between us and the one who harmed us, there is no fruit in that “forgiveness”. The fruit is not just for your father/mother, it’s for you and your children. Forgiving doesn’t let that one off the hook; really, it keeps that hurt from dominating our lives (or that of our children’s). Check out resource below on this.
Okay, I’ll close out now. Not a counselor but one who’s lived this and done a lot of work towards my own health and healing and hopefully it shows. Much love. Thanks for staying to the end.