Earlier today a miracle happened. The last Israeli hostages were released from Gaza. Twenty of them. Released! Israel also released almost 2000 Palestinian prisoners. Released! Hopefully the cease-fire on both sides will continue, and the Middle East can settle into a much-needed peace.
The Ten Boom’s were a devoutly Christian family in Holland, and much of the story takes place around the events of World War II. Nazi Germany was making its move to gain power across Europe and was particularly targeting Jews, their own and other nationalities, and Jewish sympathizers. The Ten Boom’s began hiding Jews and developed an effective but dangerous underground to secret them away to safer places. The family’s activities were eventually found out and they were imprisoned. Corrie’s brother Willem and sister Nollie only briefly, but Corrie’s father and sister Betsie were held. Their father would die after a brief time of incarceration. Betsie was Corrie’s older sister. They never married and poured their lives into caring for others.
The notorious German concentration camp, Ravensbrück, would be their “home” for too long. Over 130,000 women would be held there, and over 60,000 died (some in the gas chambers). The conditions were horrific. Corrie and Betsie, by God’s grace, managed to hold onto a Bible during their prison time. When they weren’t laboring long hours, they prayed and encouraged the other women in their barracks. Betsie had enormous faith and a tender heart, even toward their tormentors. She prayed for both prisoners and guards. Corrie struggled more in her faith, angry with their treatment, especially because Betsie was physically weak from a long-term illness. Corrie would learn greater forgiveness and love during their unfathomable time together in the camp.
Finally, Betsie would die in captivity. Corrie would continue on, taking more responsibility in caring for the women around her. Early on in their time at Ravensbrück, Betsie reminded Corrie that God called them to be thankful in all circumstances, not just in lovely ones. Corrie couldn’t thank God for the fleas which infested their quarters. Later, Betsie observed that the guards rarely entered their barracks BECAUSE of the fleas, so they were free to have times of prayer and study. This was not wasted on Corrie as she began to see God at work in all their circumstances…and she gave thanks.
I’m going to leave the rest of the story for you to discover in reading about her life…or watching the movie (movies – others have been made since the first one).
Obviously, Corrie survived her captivity and was released toward the end of 1944 (12 days after Betsie died). Her life continued for almost 40 years, and she was able to see the fruit of Betsie’s visions for the future. It is an incredible story – loss turned to glory.
In rejoicing over the long-awaited release of the Israeli hostages and concurrent release of Palestinian prisoners (also celebrated by their families), we are struck by the enormous experience of being “released”.
For Corrie, and for all of us, the release of bitterness as we forgive and God’s work in our hearts to even love our enemies (Matthew 5:43).
[From the Archives – “Remember 9/11 – and the Day Before – a Story of God and a Girl”]
[As we in the US prepare to observe a sad and shocking day in our country’s history, those of us who knew Genessa observe the day she entered Glory 24 years ago. A bit of her story, especially as it relates to her love for Jesus, always comes to mind today. And other days. We have so much to look forward to – in this life and the Next.]
Today marks the eve of the 24th anniversary of the 9/11 bombings in the US. We all have our stories of where we were when we heard that terrible news. I heard the news as an elevator door opened in a hospital emergency room in Cairo, Egypt. The surgeon watching for us to deliver the patient, actually walked into the elevator. His face strained (me thinking it related to the patient with me). Then he said, “I am so, so sorry.” I thought he was referring to the precious one on the stretcher beside me, so small and injured from a terrible bus accident the day before. It turns out he was talking about the news that had traveled instantly from the States about the 9/11 bombings. I’d like to go back to the day before. For us, it would help to go there, before I can ever process the grief of this day that we all share.
It was like any other Monday, that bright, warm September 10th in Cairo, Egypt…until the phone call. Janna was on the other end of the call, telling me that Genessa and April, had been in a bus accident on the Sinai. April had called her and relayed their location, at a hospital in Sharm el-Sheikh. These were girls in our Middle Eastern Studies Program, and they were finishing their time with us, taking a vacation together. They would re-trace some of their experiences in Bedouin villages across the Sinai, visiting local friends once more, and then enjoy a few days on the Red Sea. They were to return that Monday of 9/10, traveling in on one of the over-night buses across the desert.
Details will have to wait for another time, but with this information, my husband, Dave, left immediately with Janna and a local Egyptian friend who was also one of our language coaches. He took these two women because of their relationship with each other and with all of us. He also understood that there were two injured friends hours away in a hospital who would need women to minister to their needs. I would be praying and on the phone the rest of the day with families, other friends, US Embassy people, and our other young people in the program. I can’t begin to describe the emotional nature of that day…not knowing, hoping, praying.
When Dave and our friends arrived at the hospital, he was directed to April. She had painful, serious injuries, but none life-threatening, praise God. Then he was escorted into the critical care area to see Genessa. To his horror, it wasn’t Genessa. It was another young woman, unconscious – an Italian tourist, who rode in the same ambulance with April. April, lucid and still able to communicate, had tried to comfort her on that long dark ride to the hospital. Personal belongings were all scrambled at the wreck site, and the authorities made the mistakened decision that because April was speaking to her, she was Genessa.
Then Dave went on the search for our dear one…somewhere else in the Sinai. He back-tracked toward the site of the accident, checking other hospitals where other injured were taken. At this point, he was also talking to US Embassy staff, as he drove through the desert. Just shortly before he arrived at the hospital where he would find Genessa, the staff person told him they confirmed her identification from a credit card she had in her pocket…in the morgue of that small village hospital.
Dave, our Egyptian friend, and Janna, that friend who received the first phone call, stood beside this precious girl’s body, to make the formal identification…to know for sure that this was Genessa. And it was…and yet not. She, the luminous, laughing, loving girl we knew, was gone. It was more than any of us who loved her could take in on that Monday evening in Cairo, Egypt…the day before 9/11.
As they left the hospital to return to April, two more friends joined them from Cairo to help. For any of you who have been completely spent in every way by such a day, you can understand what it was for them to look up and see other American friends, Matt and Richard, getting out of a car. God, in His great goodness, alerted them, stirred their hearts to drive all those hours…and then to arrive…just when they were most needed. So many arrangements had to be made…and most importantly, at that moment, to get April back safely and quickly to Cairo for surgery.
She came into Cairo on a plane near the middle of the day of 9/11. By the time we got her from the airport in an ambulance to the specialty hospital to get the further care she needed, a series of horrific events had begun taking place in the US. We would hear of them from this caring Egyptian surgeon…who had no idea how numb we were from losing Genessa and how concerned we were that April got what she needed as soon as possible. We were already so drenched by grief, this unfathomable news about the bombings washed over us without understanding the scope of it…the pain of it…for all the rest of America.
Later in that day, with April receiving the best care possible, and me watching by her side, I could take in some of the loss coming at us on the small t.v. mounted in the hospital room. Egyptians were telling us how so, so sorry they were for us (as Americans). If they only knew, they were our mourners for our loss of Genessa, too. In the din of world-changing news, and a country brought together in grief…we grieved, too, a continent away…for the losses of 9/11 and the day before.
That was 24 years ago…April healed from her injuries (only she and God know what all that took on the inside), the other young people in our program have gone on to careers and families across the US and around the world. We have also gone on…back to the US and to other work.
Two things have not changed…a beautiful girl, who fell asleep by the window of a bus in the Sinai night and woke up in Heaven… and the God who welcomed her Home. There is so much, much, more to this story, but I have to close with this. As her family back in the US were pulling the pieces of their lives back together, and going through Genessa’s things, they found a little cassette player on her bed…there left by her, two years before, as she left for Cairo. In it was a cassette where she’d made a tape of her singing one of her favorite songs, I Long for the Day, by singer/songwriter Dennis Jernigan. Toward the end of the song you can hear Genessa’s tears in her voice, singing to the Lord. We would sometimes have the opportunity of being in the room when Genessa led worship in those days. She couldn’t hold the tears back…tears of joy, longing, gratitude. So in a space just God and her.
If we look at Genessa’s life through the lens of some American dream, then we would think how tragic to die so young, so full of promise. Look through the lens of how much she loved God, and knowing Him was what mattered most to her…and all who knew her knew His love through her.
Jesus returned to the Mount of Olives,but early the next morning he was back again at the Temple. A crowd soon gathered, and he sat down and taught them.As he was speaking, the teachers of religious law and the Pharisees brought a woman who had been caught in the act of adultery. They put her in front of the crowd.
“Teacher,” they said to Jesus, “this woman was caught in the act of adultery.The law of Moses says to stone her. What do you say?”
They were trying to trap him into saying something they could use against him, but Jesus stooped down and wrote in the dust with his finger.They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!”Then he stooped down again and wrote in the dust.
When the accusers heard this, they slipped away one by one, beginning with the oldest, until only Jesus was left in the middle of the crowd with the woman.Then Jesus stood up again and said to the woman, “Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?”
“No, Lord,” she said.
And Jesus said, “Neither do I. Go and sin no more.”– John 8:1-11
Two others, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with [Jesus].And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified him, and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left.And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
One of the criminals who were hanged railed at him, saying, “Are you not the Christ? Save yourself and us!”But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation?And we indeed justly, for we are receiving the due reward of our deeds; but this man has done nothing wrong.”And he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”And he said to him, “Truly, I say to you, today you will be with me in paradise.” – Luke 23:32-34, 39-43
The Bible is filled with accounts of people in desperate situations. Too many alone in circumstances they can’t seem to escape. Maybe some of us have known that kind of isolation, self-hatred, hopelessness. Singer, songwriter Matthew West brings these people, these lost and wounded ones, into the light. Into the light of God’s love…and ours, if we don’t turn away. “Mended” is West’s speaking forth the Gospel of Christ over brokenness…as if Jesus is speaking to the wounded one, through the lyrics of the song.
[Chorus] When you see broken beyond repair I see healing beyond belief When you see too far gone I see one step away from home When you see nothing but damaged goods I see something good in the making I’m not finished yet When you see wounded, I see mended
[Verse 1] How many times can one heart break? It was never supposed to be this way Look in the mirror, but you find someone You never thought you’d be Oh, but I can still recognize The one I love in your tear stained eyes I know you might not see him now So lift your eyes to me
[Chorus] When you see broken beyond repair I see healing beyond belief When you see too far gone I see one step away from home When you see nothing but damaged goods I see something good in the making I’m not finished yet When you see wounded, I see mended
[Verse 2] You see your worst mistake But I see the price I paid And there’s nothing you could ever do To lose what grace has won So hold on, it’s not the end No, this is where love’s work begins I’m making all things new And I will make a miracle of you
[Chorus] When you see broken beyond repair I see healing beyond belief When you see too far gone I see one step away from home When you see nothing but damaged goods I see something good in the making I’m not finished yet When you see wounded, I see mended
[Bridge] I see my child, my beloved The new creation you’re becoming You see the scars from when you fell But I see the stories they will tell You see worthless, but I see priceless You see pain, but I see a purpose You see unworthy, undeserving But I see you through eyes of mercy
[Chorus] When you see broken beyond repair I see healing beyond belief You’re not too far gone You’re one step away from home When you see nothing but damaged goods I see something good in the making I’m not finished yet, no When you see wounded, I see mended
[Outro] Oh, I see mended Woah, oh I see mended I’m not finished yet When you see wounded, I see mended*
In closing, I’d like to shine a light on a young Christian man who is shining light on persons broken by addiction in the Kensington area of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Mal Love is a filmmaker and he is capturing stories of these people, on the streets, prisoners of their addictions. He brings a Godly dignity to them and shows genuine care for them. Talking to them, filming their stories, asking what they need and doing what he can to provide (food, beverages, pillows, recovery helps). He has even administered Narcan when encountering someone who’d overdosed. You can see and hear these stories every day as he goes out onto the streets – on Instagram, Facebook, or his YouTube channel. Mal gives us the opportunity to look into faces of people Jesus loves and pray for them. Whew!
Years ago, when I was a little girl in a small Baptist church in the South, all the ladies wore flowers to church on Mother’s Day. White flowers if our mothers were no longer living, and red flowers if they were still with us. Flowers still mark the celebration of Mother’s Day. However, much has changed in how we commemorate moms.
In recent years, family estrangement has become a thing. Boundaries another thing. Not everyone has a positive relationship with their mothers. It is sad really. The bond between us and those who birthed and raised us can tragically be shadowed by trauma. Then there are the post-modern issues of fewer marriages and fewer children and increasing incidence of infertility and decreasing adoptions.
So…there’s that. Still I want to celebrate and remember moms. Mothers matter. Mothering can also be beautifully accomplished by grandmothers, aunts, and friends of the family. Thankful for those as well.
[In the links below, you will find other blogs I have written on moms and mothering. Some of what follows has been pulled from those blogs.]
In celebration of Mother’s Day, here are some sweet salutes to all of you who mother well…it’s a long and beautiful journey through life.
“Go to battle, my friend. You are mighty, because you mother! Happy Mother’s Day to Mighty Mothers everywhere! Motherhood is Kingdom business, Jesus work. This shaping of souls, this raising tiny humans…Motherhood is anything but ordinary. You are mighty because you mother!” – Lisa-Jo Baker
“You are braver than you know…because you mother.” I thank God for the mothers in my life – some with children, some without but who love that deeply.
Those Other Mothers – Shout-out to those other mothers. You’ve heard the expression guys at times use: “Brothers from another mother”. I’d like to focus a moment on those other mothers. Our mom was that “other mother” for some. She was a treasure – loving, sacrificing, praying for us, grieving our pain with us, and taking joy in us…and those many others God dropped into her life and she simply loved.
The other mothers I want to celebrate today are the mothers-in-law in our lives. My mom is gone…but my mom-in-law, Julia, is still with us and I am so grateful. She, from a distance away, partnered with my mom in teaching me about loving well my husband and children…
With two children married, I am blessed with two co-moms-in-law. This was an unexpected joy – to be able to know and call as friends these two women. They are faithful in loving my children (and our grands) and I hope they see me as that with their treasures. We count on each other…and celebrate every milestone. Prayer warriors together for our kiddos.
Becky & Karen
The last two “other mothers” are the mommies of our grands – our daughter and daughter-in-love. Seeing how they love and parent the littles is a great joy for us. They themselves are a great joy. Happy Mother’s Day, Girls. You are both wonders!
Bekkah & Christie
How about you? Are there other mothers in your lives who inspire or spur you on (whether they have kids themselves or not)? Share in the Comments if you choose.
An Old Story – “I remember, when I was a boy, watching a dog fight. A little dog of uncertain lineage, and not built for war, sailed into the street to engage in an argument that bade fair to enlist all the canines of legal age in the neighborhood. I remember watching the little fellow as he tried out the fight for a few minutes only to turn tail and make for his own yard. I was just marking him down for a coward when he reached his front gate, stopped a minute for breath, and returned for the fray. I think he must have run home three or four times during the fight to rest for a moment and then go back with redoubled energy…There are many times when I can keep on only by taking a fresh start from my own fireside…That is one thing home does, and that is one thing for which most of our mothers will be remembered.“ – Umphrey Lee, in William H. Leach compilation: Sermon Hearts From the Gospels, pp. 173-174, 1934
A Mama’s Lament – “Slow Down” – “I don’t know of a more uttered or whispered phrase from a mother of any age, about her child of any age, than ‘It’s going by too fast.’ I feel like I spend my life trying to slow time. Trying to celebrate the growth and the milestones of my children, and then secretly day dreaming about building a time machine in my garage, so I can return to rocking my babies at midnight. If you’ve ever looked at your child running across a field, or striding across a graduation stage, or walking down the middle aisle of a church clutching a bouquet, you’ll know why this song is special to me. Please enjoy the video below, remembering the moments we wish we could slow down, and sharing them with those we love most.” – Nichole Nordeman
So much sorrow and grief in the world…if you clicked on this blog at all, with such a sober title, then you are facing what is true for you, and for all of us.
Take a moment more and let’s sit together over this. Or if you have 2-3 friends or family members you deeply trust, gather them for a talk that will begin the healing of both a current grief or a distant sorrow. Losses, whatever they are, endure in our minds and bodies. If we leave them unshared, we still attend to them, either by the work of keeping them buried or by numbing them with the aid of our idols or addictions.
“When I stopped trying to block my sadness and let it move me instead, it led me to a bridge with people on the other side.” … I learned that sadness does not sink a person; it is the energy a person spends trying to avoid sadness that does that.” – Barbara Brown Taylor
When you think about a sorrow, grief, or loss in your own life (current or past), what comes to mind? Something always comes. We are all experiencing a global sorrow in the war brewing in the Middle East. Here in my town, a young widow and an older one are daily finding their way forward through grief. For you, maybe it is a past loss of great import…or even one you think is only important to you. If it’s important to you, it matters to those who care about you. We self-edit and compare our sorrows, but they stay strong and real in our own life experience.
What can we do to heal the ache of these sadnesses? To refuse to isolate ourselves and our losses from community? To experience hope again?
Just today I came across the incredibly helpful series of podcasts on sorrow and grief by the therapist Adam Young.
Adam Young describes the four conditions needed to allow us to work with sorrow and grief:
We own that our sorrows and griefs matter and should be taken seriously.
We need to gradually move from a posture of contempt toward our sorrow and grief to a posture of compassion and kindness and welcome.
We need to find a few people who can be the village for us… allowing us to risk sharing our sorrow and grief with other people.
We need to move our bodies in a way that allows for the integration and release of our sorrow and grief.– Adam Young
We can be very hard on ourselves regarding our sorrow and grief, because somehow we think we should get over it or not care so much or ___________________________ (fill in the blank). Even when we push our grief into the deep interior of our minds, or we try to forget through our “drugs” of choice, it is present. Closer to the surface than we imagine.
In the above podcasts, Adam Young quotes psychotherapist Francis Weller extensively, which is a huge help for those of us who have yet to read Weller’s book The Wild Edge of Sorrow. Weller emphasizes the impact of grief over time, on our minds and bodies and relationships. He encourages community as the place, or people with whom, to release our sorrow.
I’ve been reading The Deepest Place by Dr. Curt Thompson (the fourth book he has written and the fourth book of his I have devoured!). Thompson talks about the common nature of suffering in all our lives. Once we embrace that fact, then we can be more open and honest with “villages” of people who are there for us…and we for them. This has been so healing for me as I’ve opened up about my own sadness regarding the rupture of my extended family and the pain we have all suffered from it.
A group of us just today were hearing an update from a friend who has endured through a chronic illness for which her doctors have found no solution…yet. She is tired and struggling. Reading Thompson’s chapter on perseverance reminded me of her ordeal. Her faith in God and her determination to keep open and close to her community have given us all hope that the future will be brighter for her…and we will be there with her for it.
That new landscape that C. S. Lewis talks about (in first image above)? It’s one we have the privilege of seeing together when we show up for one another…especially in sorrow and grief.
Many say of me, “God will not deliver him.” Selah But you, LORD, are a shield around me, my glory, and the One who lifts up my head. – Psalm 3:2-3
Blessed be the LORD, for He has heard my cry for mercy. The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped. Therefore my heart rejoices, and I give thanks to Him with my song. – Psalm 28:6-7
Casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you. Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour. Resist him, steadfast in the faith, knowing that the same sufferings are experienced by your brotherhood in the world. – 1 Peter 5:7-9
Last night, in the car leaving his taekwondo lesson, our 7 y/o grandson wanted to talk about the most recent conflict between Israel and Palestine. I was shocked that he knew about it given such an adult situation. Maybe he heard his parents talk. Maybe they were praying as a family for the conflict…now war.
He had amazingly mature thoughts and questions about it. You can imagine that it led to a discussion that went all the way back to Adam and Eve and all the way forward to Heaven and Hell. He wondered if America would ever have war and what that would look like. We talked about both the sadness of the situation for Israel and Palestine, and we talked about what our response as Christ-followers must be.
I grew up in the 60s and 70s. During the Vietnam War era. I also grew up with a mom who taught us not to hate. It was never acceptable. If we loved Jesus then we did not have the privilege or luxury or burden (however you see it) of hating another individual or group of people. It went against everything we understood of Jesus, including His very own teaching to love even our enemies (Matthew 5:44).
During the Vietnam war, the culture was mixed (as it is today) with opinions on what was right and what was wrong. In high school, I wrote letters of encouragement to soldiers (brothers, friends, and sometimes strangers who became penpals). Writing to boys only a few years older than me…gone to war.
In college, I, like so many others, participated in protests of a too-long and too-costly war. Protests and prayer vigils.
You’ve got to be taught To hate and fear, You’ve got to be taught From year to year, It’s got to be drummed In your dear little ear You’ve got to be carefully taught.
You’ve got to be taught before it’s too late, Before you are six or seven or eight, To hate all the people your relatives hate, You’ve got to be carefully taught.
In these days, we cry out to God for the sake of Israel and Palestine…and the rest of the world, not knowing what will happen in the days, weeks, months, and years ahead.
Address God. (Focus your prayer on the One who hears and answers.)
Pour out your heart. (Bring Him your complaints and concerns.)
Request help. (Ask God for what you need.)
Express trust. (Affirm your faith in His character and His Word.)
Praise Him. (Worship Him because He is worthy.)
“Confessing trust in God is the hinge that turns our grieving into grace, tears into trust, and worries into worship.”– Jennifer Rothschild
If you’re like me, you’ve lost confidence in much of what we see in the news. Or at least, we sift through several accounts of events to determine what might be true.
This I know: something catastrophic is happening in the Middle East right now which will most probably have a wide ripple effect into coming generations. There is much to lament here. God’s face is the only one to which we can look with complete trust and confidence.
Many are they increased that troubled me Many are they that rise up against me Many there be which say of my soul There is no help for him in God
But Thou, oh Lord are a shield for me My glory and the lifter of my head Thou, oh Lord are a shield for me My glory and the lifter of my head
[Repeat]
I cried unto the Lord with my voice And he heard me out of His holy hill I laid me down and slept and awaked For the Lord sustained, for he sustained me
Thou, oh Lord are a shield for me My glory and the lifter of my head Thou, oh Lord are shield for me My glory and the lifter of my head
[Repeat Twice] For Thou oh Lord are a shield for me My glory and the lifter of my head Of my head My head*
Sidebar: One exchange between Robert Oppenheimer and Niels Bohr has stood out and intrigued the audience. It was an encounter between two of the most brilliant minds the world has ever known. But one of the most puzzling aspects of their meeting is Bohr’s cryptic comment to Oppenheimer. What exactly did Bohr mean by:
“Algebra is more than just reading. You have to hear the music.”
“Can you hear the music?”
Niels Bohr’s words, in essence, capture the very spirit of scientific inquiry. His comparison of algebra to music wasn’t merely a poetic expression but a profound insight into the nature of mathematics and, by extension, the nature of scientific discovery. Bohr was trying to convey that, much like how music is not just about reading notes but about feeling and understanding the melody, algebra, too, is not just about reading equations but about comprehending the underlying patterns and principles. – Pooja Mishra
2) Solitude – [Adapted from an earlier blog of mine] – During my angsty teenage years, I would sometimes slip away from my house full of brothers and sit by the lake nearby. It was there that I wrestled with the “what if’s” of life, along with the “what was’s”. Alone, but not truly. Within my thoughts, quietened in those moments, was also the presence of God. In that solitude, anxieties would get reigned in and perspective returned. The walk home was always so much better than the walk down.
Writer, philosopher Zat Rana caught my eye with his article The Most Important Skill Nobody Taught You. Turns out his view of that most important untaught skill is solitude. That ability to just enjoy being alone. Sitting or walking alone. Lost in your own thoughts. Except for a self-portrait for a photography class, you won’t see many signs in my life that solitude comes easy.
Life is peopled. As an extrovert and helper by nature, I have long thrived in the company of others. However, getting older, alone time has become more my experience than in previous years. Is that its own springboard to flourishing?
“All of humanity’s problems stem from man’s inability to sit quietly in a room alone.” – Blaise Pascal
According to Pascal, we fear the silence of existence, we dread boredom and instead choose aimless distraction, and we can’t help but run from the problems of our emotions into the false comforts of the mind.
The issue at the root, essentially, is that we never learn the art of solitude. – Zat Rana
My husband, the consummate introvert thinker, often sits by himself at dawn and dusk to recharge. For him, solitude is something that has come naturally. He has been a model for me in practicing solitude.
Rana also talks about how technology has connected us in a myriad of ways but the connectedness is more virtual than real. – “We now live in a world where we’re connected to everything except ourselves.”
“Our aversion to solitude is really an aversion to boredom…we dread the nothingness of nothing. We can’t imagine just being rather than doing. And therefore, we look for entertainment, we seek company, and if those fail, we chase even higher highs. We ignore the fact that never facing this nothingness is the same as never facing ourselves. And never facing ourselves is why we feel lonely and anxious in spite of being so intimately connected to everything else around us.” – Zat Rana
3) “Til You’re Home” – If you’ve ever lost someone dear to you, the song “Til You’re Home” will resonate to your core. Actress, producer, singer/songwriter Rita Wilson brings this song to the screen in the beautiful film “A Man Called Otto”. Wilson wrote the lyrics with David Hodges and performed it with singer Sebastián Yatra.
In the articles below, Wilson is interviewed about the inspiration for this song. My main takeaway was how she was comforted by a friend, after her father’s death. He told her, “The conversation continues.” I so experience that. After the death of my mom, in particular, but also many others, including my older brother with whom I had a prickly relationship but one that sweetened before he died and continues to do so…in ways this song communicates.
I watched the film above while on a flight. Crying doesn’t come easy for me, and the tears flowed.
Watch the movie and enjoy the song and think about the richness of our relationships both in the present and in the between times (from past to forever).
4)Two Phenomenal Reads – Phenomenal? Well, I’m counting on it. These are my next two reads. Just got them both and honestly may have to read them together. The authors are two of my absolute favorites: Karen Swallow Prior and Curt Thompson MD.
To get started – while I was waiting for launch day on both of these books, I’ve been listening to podcasts and reading reviews. Until your books come, you can also have a read or listen below.
“I hope readers are better able to participate in the necessary, ongoing process of distinguishing the principles of the Christian faith that are eternal and unchanging from the cultural stories, metaphors, and images that embody these principles in varying degrees of fidelity. Don’t misunderstand me: this entanglement with cultural narratives and ideas isn’t unique to evangelicals, nor is being creatures of culture necessarily a bad thing. In fact, living within the cultures of this world is God’s plan. It is part of being human. I think, however, that because evangelicalism from its beginnings in the western world has been so tied to political power, it has been easier for us to overlook the entanglement that is inherent to being part of any human culture. Yet, our task is no different from Christians within any Christian movement, sect, time, place, or culture.” – Karen Swallow Prior, an interview with Andrea L. Turpin
5) International Food Festivals – Ethnic foods are a favorite in our family…maybe every family. I’m talking from Afghan boulani (flatbread) to Southern biscuits and gravy.
It’s a joy to be invited to the home of friends who bring their gracious hospitality and yummy food to our part of the world. Just recently, I had the pleasure of sitting down to lunch with an Afghan family.
I’ve learned so much from our Afghan friends who came here in the Fall of 2021. Not the least of which has been how to set a bountiful table without great resources.
Our town has a host of ethnic restaurants with a few exceptions. Armenian and Egyptian are two types of food for which I’ve not found a restaurant locally. Once a year, we have the treat of international food festivals featuring these cuisines. So good!!
Next weekend, it’s the Fourth Annual Egyptian Festival. How about you? Any foodies out there? Comment below what some of your international favorites are and if you cook them at home or have the joy of a local restaurant or festival.
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.
My childhood memories have gaps. A year ago, I began exploring the possibilities that there were memories being kept hidden in my brain. Reading and working through the three books of Christian psychiatrist Curt Thompson moved me to consider the power of shame in keeping my memories silent. Dr. Thompson encourages his clients (and book readers) to write down our life stories, in long-hand. Journaling the decades. Especially working on recalling our childhood. Bringing those memories into the light.
My preschool years are still mostly devoid of memories. My mom had told me later that our rarely employed biological father neglected us such that she had to employ a babysitter daily while she worked. Even though he was home. Whether neglect is abusive or not, I have no recallable memories of my father from those years. Mom divorced him by the time I was 6.
In doing the exercise of writing out my life, one childhood memory that I was able to re-remember started out happy. It was a neighborhood “garden party”. I was maybe 7 or 8. These so-called garden parties were a gathering of family and friends to process the harvest of large vegetable gardens – for canning and freezing. Those who came enjoyed lively conversations, engaging stories, and finally a large meal together. The adults were caught up in the moment, and the children wandered in and out…and farther away.
I’m not sure who all ended up with me in a large barn some distance away from the home of our hosts. In that barn, an older boy (trigger, sorry) talked me into letting him touch me in inappropriate ways.
I had put that memory far back in my mind.
In remembering it, I also recalled telling my mom that evening and her taking action by going to talk to the parents of that boy. That’s where it ended, I believe.
Later in my childhood, I would discover my older brother’s (I suppose) hidden stash of pornographic magazines. [We didn’t have internet pornography in those days, and this sort of perusing seemed an expected coming-of-age pastime.] Page after page of naked or scantily clothed women in sexually provocative poses. Even as a pre-teen, it drew me in, even though it felt dirty and shameful. I don’t think I understood the power of taking such images into my brain. It is what pornography does and why it is so toxic.
[Could this sort of pornography be a launch-pad for girls who, seeing those images, become sexually aroused, then thinking they might be same-sex attracted? Especially if it happened today in our current culture…I wonder.]
Being exposed to pornography as a child isn’t abuse, of course, but it forces an unhealthy peering into an adult world. I wish I hadn’t stumbled on it and hope parents take seriously the availability of porn on the internet. OK…done with that topic.
At the age of 13, my parents invited a young co-worker of my step-dad’s for a cookout. He must have been 18 or 19. He stayed long into the evening. I have no idea what my parents were thinking at the time (and they were excellent parents), but they went to bed and he was still there. This seemed to set up a green light for him, and he became very aggressive physically. My 13-year-old sensibility was at first enthralled at his interest in me and then frightened, too timid to cry out or get away. If my older brother hadn’t returned early from a date, and sent him on his way, I’m not really sure where that would have ended. So thankful for my brother that night.
Where does abuse begin? Did it start with the neglect of a father? Even with an incredibly loving and supportive mom, she couldn’t be everywhere all the time. Was I vulnerable to the attention of boys (and men) growing up because of a father who started out uncaring and became increasingly absent (don’t remember seeing him ever again after my early childhood years). Even with the love of a dear step-father, did I struggle with needing approval, wanting to feel special, absorbing the very adult messaging of pornography geared toward adult men?
[I’ll stop my story here for now.]
My extended family has known the searing pain of abuse. The abuse of power, the deceitfulness of sin (protecting the perpetrator), the isolation that comes with shame, and the complicit nature of silence.
In fact, with the statics (of sexual abuse alone), in the US, we’re talking as many as 1 in 4 girls are sexually abused by the age of 10 and 1 in 6 boys.
How do we respond to abuse? How do we even consider such atrocities? Put aside sexual abuse for a moment. It comes in many different ways.
Dr. Henry Cloud, in his book Changes That Heal, talks about the role of crossing personal boundaries in abuse…when people step over a line, a boundary, wounding another person.
“The essence of boundaries and limits is knowing what we own and what we do not own…when we do not own ourselves as separate people from the ones we are bonded to, we develop unclear boundaries, and we allow people to cross those boundaries when we should be saying no”. – Dr. Henry Cloud, Changes That Heal
One thing we could all assess within ourselves is our own understanding of personal boundaries – where we stop and another person starts. Abuse can happen with overreach (in parenting, marriage, friendships, and the workplace) or a lack of understanding or ownership of our own personhood.
This boundary breach leading to abuse can happen with strangers, but, more often than not, it happens with people we know – parents and children, spouses, other family members, trusted teachers or clergy.
Abuse can be subtle…still with the impact of intimidation or silencing. Even something we are all familiar – the silent treatment – is its own form of abuse.
I’m not going to cover what we need to do comprehensively in handling abuse. Resources abound in this area. However, my work on memories coming back to light (and processing them as an adult, not as a child) helped me understand some attitudes and behavior that affect my sense of self and relationships today.
So in brief, I would say:
Do a journey of self-discovery (with a counselor or trusted friend) – examining and reframing painful childhood (or early adulthood) memories.
If abuse is still a part of your current life – get what distance you can from it, as you develop coping skills to protect yourself but also the generations coming after you. Building forever boundaries between you and that person/those persons can be its own abuse. It is a stop-gap measure and still holds the abused in bondage to the abuser.
Don’t be silent. Talk to someone. Tell your story.
For those who suspect abuse in another, don’t be complicit in the abuse, by your silence. Prayerfully, carefully, come alongside the abused. If you have a relationship with the abuser, reason with that person, if you can.
Isolation is a product of shame for the abused and the abuser. It also works to keep the abused more vulnerable. Shame, isolation, and secrecy. Don’t ignore isolation (even in these post-pandemic days when it may be harder to detect). Be vigilant in surveilling those in your circles – your family, neighborhood, workplace, and friend group.
Finally, be aware of “vicarious trauma” – for those helping, caring, mentoring persons – experiencing a secondary trauma because of your leaning in and coming close to the trauma of another. You may need help from another as well, choosing not to leave the room but needing support yourself.
“Don’t worry [be anxious] about anything, but in everything, through prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 4:6-7
“Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” – Psalm 30:5b
“My heart is steadfast, O God; I will sing and make music with all my being. Awake, O harp and lyre! I will awaken the dawn. I will praise You, O LORD, among the nations; I will sing Your praises among the peoples. For Your loving devotion extends beyond the heavens, and Your faithfulness reaches to the clouds. Be exalted, O God, above the heavens; may Your glory cover all the earth.” – Psalm 108:1-5
My dear mom-in-law prays hard and often. She and I pray in unity on many, many things. Situations some of which she knows few details. Still she prays. Her prayers never end without the phrase “with thanksgiving”. Her anticipation of God’s answering prayer is thrilling…and inspires my hope and confidence in the heart of God.
Yesterday, I woke with heavy thoughts of many concerns: the dad of a colleague critically ill in the hospital, a visitation hearing on a beloved foster child in our family, the condition of our country, health issues with one of our kids, and the spiritual condition of some very close to us. There were also occasions for “joy in the morning” – the baptism of a precious great-niece of ours on Sunday and my husband’s birthday.
As those thoughts continued circulating in my head, I spent the morning with an Afghan refugee, a grandmother, who needed dental care. A lot of it. After her appointment, and translation help before leaving, we drove home in the silence of no shared language. [The love between us kept company, so there was that.] I used the radio to soften the silence.
Four songs in a row. Four songs in a row about the exquisite love of God. My friend couldn’t understand the words, but the lyrics moved me so much I had to stop and write the songs down to remember for today’s blog.
Then my quiet reading for today was Psalm 108 (the verses above captured my heart). Psalm 108:1-5. Oh God, no matter our situation, may we wake the dawn with singing of your great heart, your great love!
Worship together with me to Zach Williams‘ Heart of God (full lyrics and music in this link).
I know you’re hurtin’, I can see it in your eyes So, pull back the curtain and take off your disguise Whoever told you ain’t worth the fight The cross tells a story that’ll change your mind.
No, He’s not sittin’ there shakin’ His head Writin’ you off, leavin’ you lost He’s not sittin’ there shakin’ His head Wishin’ He’d never went to that cross He’s not sittin’ there shakin’ His head Writin’ you off, leavin’ you lost He’s not sittin’ there shakin’ His head He went to that cross, He went to that cross ‘Cause He loves you so much Ooh-ooh-ooh, yeah
There’s only love in the heart of God No room for shame in His open arms There’s beauty from ashes, so come as you are And there’s only love in the heart of God.
…and worship also with Matthew West‘s The God Who Stays (full lyrics and music here).
If I were You I would’ve given up on me by now I would’ve labeled me a lost cause ‘Cause I feel just like a lost cause If I were You I would’ve turned around and walked away I would’ve labeled me beyond repair ‘Cause I feel like I’m beyond repair
Oh, but somehow You don’t see me like I do Somehow You’re still here
You’re the God who stays You’re the God who stays You’re the one who runs in my direction When the whole world walks away You’re the God who stands With wide open arms And You tell me nothing I have ever done can separate my heart From the God who stays
My shame can’t separate My guilt can’t separate My past can’t separate I’m Yours forever My sin can’t separate My scars can’t separate My failures can’t separate I’m Yours forever No enemy can separate No power of hell can take away Your love for me will never change I’m Yours forever
Finally (for now), let’s close out with Tauren Wells‘ Known (full lyrics and music here).
It’s so unusual it’s frightening You see right through the mess inside me And you call me out to pull me in You tell me I can start again And I don’t need to keep on hiding
I’m fully known and loved by You You won’t let go no matter what I do And it’s not one or the other It’s hard truth and ridiculous grace To be known fully known and loved by You.
Whatever is going on with you – on the negative – be it shame, regret, fear, bitterness, sorrow – let known of that isolate you from the God who loves you. We can never get too far from God. We are fully known by Him. He is a God who stays. “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.” – Psalm 30:5b
