Hi, I’m Beth and I’m a Recovering Pharisee

So this past weekend I got to be on the inside of what goes into a service at my new church.  (I really need to stop calling it that…it’s been six months…it’s not my new church…it’s my church.)  Anyway, so I had been invited to share on creativity and pain with two other members of The Orchard tribe and we were sitting in our pastor’s office before the first service started.  We were hashing out who was going to say what and when and we were talking about how our pain had decreased our judgment and increased our compassion.

I told them how I used to judge people who got divorced.  I told them how I used to size somebody up before getting together with them so I could decide how much grace I would show them.  (I don’t think I did this consciously; I think I did this because I hadn’t experienced the grace of God to the depths that I have now, so I only had so much of my own to hand out to others.)  And I told them how someone recently told me that her husband used to refer to me as a Pharisee when I was on staff.

Back then, I would have taken that as the highest of compliments.  You better believe I’m a Pharisee and you better follow the rules I’m laying out as I try to get all of you errant supposed grown-ups to lead your small groups well so people feel connected, darnit!  Yes, I was a peach to work with.

So, let me say, to every single volunteer who served with me or who I led during my time at Blackberry Creek Community Church and then Christ Community Church – Blackberry Campus, I am so very sorry.  I am so sorry that I was mean.  I am so sorry that I was short-sighted.  I am so sorry that I put my rules over knowing you as a person.  I am so sorry that alot of times you were just a name on a post-it that I had to cross off so I could move on to the next ministry conversation after church on Sundays.  I am so sorry when I used you as a pawn to get all the ministry done that I so desperately wanted to get done “for Jesus”.  I was a leader living in an introvert’s body and my social skills were lacking (still are at times, I’m afraid). And my personal life was a mess but I was both trying to act like it wasn’t and keep it all together at the same time; but those are no excuses.  I wish I could say my heart was always in the right place.  It was a lot of the times but some of the time I just wanted to get my version of God’s Kingdom built the way I wanted it to be built and I hurt so many people with my rough edges and short words and endless emails telling you what to do.  I am so sorry.  I was a Pharisee.

But I’d like to believe that I’m not that way anymore.  To which my pastor replied, “Thank God!”  (In fact, come to think of it, if I were still that way, odds are I wouldn’t have been invited into that conversation.)

Because now I see what I didn’t see back then.  That somehow every single thing that God wants to get done will get done.  That I can trust that the Spirit is big enough for all of this. That people are more important than programs.  That your heart matters.  That your pain is something I can learn from.  That the sentence “so, tell me your story” is about the kindest thing anyone can say to another human being, especially if they’re not checking their watch.  That I came this close to my entire life tanking but Jesus stepped in and said, “I don’t think so,” and reached down and turned everything around, and then reminded me that it didn’t matter really if I messed everything up because he wasn’t going anywhere and he was going to get me through it and he would never stop loving me.  And oh yeah, now that I had experienced all that, it might be a good idea to reach out to others who are hurting and show them the compassion that he had just shown me.

I’m getting there.  But to prove that it’s a process, that I am in fact still recovering from my pharisaical ways: so we were sitting in my pastor’s office and I hear music, and I look down at the watch on the hand of the gal sitting on the couch with me and I think I see that it’s 5.  The service starts at 5.  My heart begins to race.  I’m trying to stay engaged and listen and keep eye contact but in my head I’m screaming, “The service has started! WE NEED TO GO!”  Just then, his assistant peeks her head in and says, casually, as if she’s done this a thousand times (because she probably has), “Service started.”  My pastor stands up which brings me unending relief, until he reaches in his pocket, pulls out his keys and tosses them to her, saying, “My shirt’s in my car…can you go get it for me?”  Church had started AND HE WASN’T EVEN DRESSED FOR CHURCH YET!  I’m dying, but we all stand to pray and we make it into the auditorium just in the nick of time.  And by just in the nick of time I mean with about twenty minutes to spare.  Okay, so I’m not a fully-recovered Pharisee.  But I’m getting there.  I’ll get there.

 

By |May 15th, 2013|judging, Uncategorized|10 Comments
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Insanity No More: Stop Doing the Same Thing Over and Over Again

I’ve been reading comments in my difficult-marriage Facebook page and some of them make me sick to my stomach, some of them scare me, some of them send me into flashbacks, and some of them leave me yelling in my head leave him!  What these dear women who are trying to do the right things are living through on a consistent basis absolutely breaks my heart.  I have promised myself and God and them that I will never tell a woman that she should leave her husband.  I haven’t done that yet (even when I’ve wanted to at times, I must admit) and I don’t intend to break that promise now.

However, there comes a time when it’s time to try something different.

There’s a popular definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again but expecting different results.

Have you begged your husband a hundred times to stop drinking?  Let me guess, he’s still drinking.  Do you know why?  Because alcoholics drink.

Have you tried to explain to your husband a hundred times what you really meant?  Let me guess, he just smirks, walks away, and basically “wins” yet another argument, and you’re left wondering what just happened.  Do you know why?  Because there is no reasoning with someone who is not reasonable.

Have you cried yourself to sleep a hundred times after sex? Let me guess, because you feel like a hooker?  Do you know why?  Because this isn’t the way it was supposed to be.

Sweet ones, I cannot tell you what to do.  I will not tell you to leave.  But I want you to answer this question honestly: is your marriage the same or maybe even worse than it was a year ago, despite your continued efforts to fix it?

If you’re answer is yes, then it’s time to do something different and new.

Here are some suggestions:

If you’ve been to the same counselor for the past few years and you tell her the same thing every week and she gives you the same advice every week, and nothing is changing, it might be time to try a new counselor.

If you’ve been looking for bottles of alcohol or receipts around your house to prove what you already know deep down – that your husband is drinking and lying about it – and you keep telling him to please stop, and nothing is changing, it might be time to walk through the doors of AlAnon.

If you’ve been telling your husband to stop yelling at you and to stop calling you names and every argument ends in yelling and name-calling, and nothing is changing, it might be time you set up some actual boundaries.  (Remember, telling someone what they can and cannot do is control; setting a boundary is telling someone what you will and will not live with.  Check out Boundaries in Marriage.)

Or, if you’ve been going this whole thing alone, and just arguing and crying, and your marriage has never changed and you have no hope at all, it might be time for you to bring someone in for the first time, like a counselor, a mentor, a church leader you can trust. 

If you keep doing all the same things, you will get all the same results, I guarantee it.  Actually, let me correct that statement: things like this – abuse, addiction – tend to get worse when left unchecked, so if you keep doing all the same things, you will more than likely find yourself getting worse results as time ticks away.  God wants so much more for you: healing and wholeness and joy and abundance.  Don’t keep doing the same thing.  Ask Jesus what new thing he wants you to try today.

By |April 19th, 2013|Uncategorized|6 Comments
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Good Friday

Today I am grateful.  I am grateful because I have grown into believing the thing that I said I believed on February 4, 1986 before I really knew what I was saying. 

I am grateful that there’s evidence so I don’t have to feel like I’m blindly following some made-up guy, or like I just have this imaginary friend that I’ve been talking about and to for more than half my life.

And yet, I am grateful that he’s so alive in my life that I can look back and know that even if I hadn’t read anything that proved he lived and died and came back to life – yes, I believe someone came back to life – I would still be able to believe it because he has been over the years just that real and true to me.  (And to many, many people I know, who aren’t stupid, by the way.  Like really smart people – way smarter than me – believe all this.)

I am grateful that he walked that long road, knowing what was ahead, and he thought of me (and of you) and he said, yes.

I am grateful that before he came back to life, he went through hell.  For me.  He would have done it just for me.  He would have done it just for you.

I am grateful that he makes me better and kinder and gentler and stronger. 

I am grateful that when my life falls apart – and trust me, it has fallen apart a time or two – he puts it and me back together.

I am grateful that he sees me and hears me and heals me.

I am grateful that when he looks into my heart, there is just grace.  He just has full grace for me.  He doesn’t rattle off all I’ve done wrong, he doesn’t look at me the way some of you do.  He sees me completely and smiles and says, “She’s mine.”

But most of all, I am grateful that he loved me enough to go to the cross, and take on my sin, and pay my penalty, and wash me clean.

I am grateful for that love.  Because it’s that love that saved me over twenty-seven years ago, and it’s that love that keeps saving me over and over again every single day.

By |March 29th, 2013|Uncategorized|1 Comment
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Can This Marriage Be Saved? Part 3

By Leslie Vernick (www.leslievernick.com)

This is the third installment of a series of blogs regarding important steps a counselor must take to help restore a destructive marriage. In the first blog I talked about the importance of all forms of safety in a marriage (such as emotional, physical, financial, spiritual, sexual). In the second blog, I addressed the importance of sanity. We want our counselee not only to think biblically but to be walking in grace and truth. When wrong thinking fuels, justifies, and excuses sinful behaviors, it’s not possible to heal a destructive marriage. As biblical counselors we want to help a couple build loving and godly interactions, but this takes awareness, repentance, perseverance, and a good amount of time in order to build a new history together.

The third step necessary to repair a destructive relationship is started only after the first two have been addressed, at least to some degree. When the couple is physically separated because of safety concerns, it is important to have concrete evidence demonstrating safety and sanity before a couple moves back together. The last thing you want to see is a couple repeating the same old patterns of abuse and destruction that caused the split in the first place. You can’t build new history together or any marital stability, when the old history keeps repeating itself.

In my first blog on safety I shared Shirley’s concern that her biblical counselor was pressuring her to allow her husband, Ray, to return to the home so that they could work on their marriage. Her counselor told her that they could not put the marriage together while still separated. Shirley’s fear was that she hadn’t seen enough evidence of Ray respecting her boundaries while separated. Ray’s current selfish behavior repeats their old marital history such as Ray’s needs always come first. Ray gets what Ray wants. Ray feels entitled to badger and bully to get what he wants. Shirley is never allowed to say no without a price to pay.

We know Ray is never going to be perfect. Change doesn’t happen overnight. But even while separated, Ray could be changing. He could work on building new history with Shirley. For example, if Ray is working on sanity and safety goals, then he must start to see his self-centered orientation (sanity). He also must accept Shirley’s feedback when she sees he’s repeating old patterns. Let’s see what this looks like when Ray is visiting his children.

“Ray, I want you to leave now. I’m tired. The kids are tired. We all want to go to bed.” Shirley says. (Shirley is asking Ray to be considerate of her needs)

“This is my house too.” Ray said. “I don’t know why I can’t stay and finish watching the football game. Go to bed. I don’t care.” (Ray is only thinking about Ray.)

“Ray, I’m not comfortable going to sleep with you in the house. Please leave.” (Shirley is being honest and asking for respect.)

“You’re being selfish. Don’t you know how boring it is in that room I have to stay in because of you? All I ask is to finish watching the game. It will be over in 30 minutes. Go to bed or stay up but I want to see who wins.” (Ray is attacking and blame-shifting. He is still in his old thinking patterns. He is not practicing safety or sanity.)

“You are not respecting my boundaries. You are not living in this house because of me but because of your own abusive actions. Right now you’re behaving like your feelings come before everyone elses . I said I was tired and I want you to leave.” (Shirley is giving Ray feedback on his words and behavior. This gives him an opportunity to stop in that moment and reflect about what he’s saying and doing and decide which Ray he wants to be. Is he going to be old Ray who continues to selfishly demand his own way and expect everyone to cater to him? Or is he going to build new history by caring that Shirley is tired and respecting her boundary and go home? If he capitulates to Shirley’s request, and goes home, is he going to handle his disappointment in not being able to watch the end of the game in a godly way or is he going to retaliate by slamming the door, calling her names, or other abusive behaviors that he’s engaged in before? If so, old history is repeated. If not, new history is beginning). This type of interaction becomes exhausting when it repeats itself over and over again with no change.

Last week I talked with a couple that has been building new history together. Their old history is that he’s been extremely critical, demeaning, and unappreciative of Wendy, a stay at home mom. He now sees how destructive that’s been and he doesn’t want to do that anymore (sanity), but old habits die hard. Recently they celebrated a small victory. John came home, tired and crabby, fighting a cold and sore throat. Dinner wasn’t ready and he started in on Wendy. “What the h#ll have you been doing all day.” He snarled.

Wendy started to defend herself but before she got the words out of her mouth, John said, “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that. I know you work hard all day around here.” Then he walked over and gave her a hug.

Wendy felt encouraged. She didn’t have to remind him not to talk to her that way. John reminded himself and self-corrected before it got worse. He apologized for his demeaning tone and words and affirmed her value. He also didn’t minimize it or make excuses for his bad behavior because he wasn’t feeling well. These small and seemingly insignificant moments of stopping old patterns and creating new ones, repeated over and over again, start to build a new marital history. Seeing evidence of these changes creates confidence that even when old history rears its ugly head, it won’t stay long. The old patterns are recognized and stopped so that more damage doesn’t occur. Seeds of trust are planted that builds hope that the fruit of repentance is growing.

Creating stability in the aftermath of a destructive marriage is about rebuilding shattered trust. We want to see evidence of, Do you hear me? Can you respect me? Do you follow through on your promises? Do you care about how I feel? Can you take responsibility for yourself when you mess up? Can I count on you to control your temper? Can I trust you to tell me the truth? Can I trust you to tell yourself the truth? Will you be accountable?

Marriage counseling during this stage can help the couple learn effective and loving communication skills. They need to develop godly ways to resolve conflict as well as talk through old hurts in a constructive way. When there is no safety and no sanity joint counseling is ineffective and often dangerous. If he can’t see his part or take responsibility for his own wrong thinking, beliefs or attitudes, everything ends up being the wife’s fault and her responsibility. Old history keeps repeating itself, even in the counselor’s office which leaves a wife feeling hopeless that her spouse can change and hopeless that their biblical counselor truly understands their problem.

By |January 23rd, 2013|Uncategorized|1 Comment
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All In

Several months ago, someone asked me how I felt about the possibility of becoming a poster child for the Christian divorcee (in so many words). “That’s fine for now,” I said with a laugh, “but not for the rest of my life hopefully.”

And then I read some quote about how you can only tell a good story with your life if you’re looking ahead and not looking back; which I totally get.

And I’ve been struggling so much lately to sift through all the criticism railed against me because of what I stand for, which is admittedly controversial and grey and messy.  It’s not like I’m fighting for more evangelism in our churches or more funding for missionaries.

I am fighting for more help for abused women in Christian marriages, in a male-dominated sub-culture, no less.  And I am fighting for more grace for women who leave their toxic Christian marriages. 

Not because I’m of the “I am woman, hear me roar” camp but because marriage is too precious, too important, too sacred. Because there’s too much on the line. Because Ephesians 5 talks about marriage being a picture of Christ’s relationship with the Church and I can’t stand the thought that for one moment even one person thinks that because of what she is experiencing in her painful marriage that might actually mean that Christ views her in the same ugly ways. 

Like I said…Controversial. Grey. Messy.

So I think between the criticism and the opposition on one hand and the thank-you’s and precious Facebook and blog communities on the other hand, I’m ready to say that I am more than willing for this to be my thing.  This will be my cause.

Because if I can somehow stop even one young woman from knowingly walking into a difficult marriage that will suck the life out of her, all of my pain and all of the criticism will be worth it.

And if I can somehow nudge even one hurting woman in an abusive marriage to tell someone and get help, or one desperate woman in an addiction-filled marriage to get into a twelve-step group and find sanity, all of my pain and all of the criticism will be worth it.

And if I can somehow reach even one ashamed woman going through a divorce and convince her that she’s not alone and someone understands her hurt and shame, all of my pain and all of the criticism will be worth it. 

And if I can somehow connect with even one pastor who is making matters worse – even if unintentionally – and get him to see that more submission and more sex and more praise isn’t a cure-all, that all marriages are different, that abuse and addiction need to be handled with the utmost care, and he makes living amends by starting to really listen and truly help the voiceless women in his congregation, well then, all of my pain and all of the criticism will be worth it.

So I guess what I’m saying is this: I’m all in.  This is my cause.  This is my thing. I will be their voice.  Where can I sign up to be the poster girl?

By |January 14th, 2013|Uncategorized|15 Comments
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Repost: How I Ruined My Marriage

I’ve given plenty of thought…obsessive amounts of thought…to my partner’s role in the demise of my marriage but as I am learning and relearning, there is always more than one side to each story. In fact, I believe there are three sides…yours, mine and God’s (otherwise known as “the truth”).

Then within each of those three sides, there’s also my perception of each, your perception of each, and again, the truth.

So, here goes my perception of my part.

I got married too young.

I got married when I knew I shouldn’t because a) I felt the Spirit nudging, and b) others had counseled me not to.

Once married, I yelled. A lot.

I was cruel and self-serving and critical with my words. Probably daily.

I looked out for number one and tried to protect her (aka, me).

I didn’t serve enough.

I didn’t build him up enough.

I didn’t respect him. (Let me take a moment with this one. I used to argue that once I felt he deserved respect, I’d begin to respect him. I now believe that there are two kinds, or levels, of respect. There is earned respect and there is role-expected respect. For instance, I might not respect President Such-&-Such, but if he walked into the room, you’d better believe I’d stand and probably clap just because of his role. So, if for nothing else, I withheld role-expected respect.)

I prayed for him and I prayed for us, but I didn’t do so enough.

Now things take a slightly different turn. The above list, I knew I was messing up all the time. The list that follows are things that I didn’t know how to do any differently until it was too late. These things used to not feel like things I was doing wrong.

Boundaries. I had no boundaries. I was needy, beyond needy, and so I would take any and all attention. I even stirred things up into arguments because yucky attention was better than no attention.

Accountability. Things were going on that were outright sinful and wrong. I didn’t call him on it. I used to think that wasn’t my job but the job of another man. I now realize that is part of a partner’s job…that’s what a help-mate should do. Gently of course.

Help. I asked for help. A ton. But then when I didn’t get it, I stopped. I crawled back into my shell and tried to keep wading through. And I say this even though we went to nine counselors and met with other couples and I read a bunch of marriage books. I never spoke the full truth until four months before we ended up separating. And when I did, when I literally laid our marriage out on the table at a local diner for another couple from church, I said what I should have said ten years before, “I’m not saying I’m sinless. But I’m saying this is wrong, and I can’t do this anymore, and I am begging you to help me.”

There’s more, I’m sure. Because remember, this is just my perception of my part in it all. There is still my ex-spouse’s, and more importantly, there’s how God sees me in all of this.

So there you have it, in case I ever gave the impression that I thought I was the victim in a hit-and-run marriage, I wasn’t. I was a full participant in our dysfunction.

But I’m beyond grateful to say that there’s hope now, that healing is coming, that I sense joy so much more than I have in years and years. I messed up, absolutely. But then there’s Jesus to clean me up and stand me up on my feet again. And he is.
By |November 20th, 2012|Uncategorized|4 Comments
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Guest Post: An Excerpt from Culture Rebel

I like to live on the edge. I’m a brave, gutsy, ADD-type of gal who can’t sit still. The problem is, I’ve lived on the wrong edge for the last twenty years. Since my first full-time job, I have lived a life with me at the centre of my attention, and now I have nothing to show for all my years of work, college, and career. Coming close to forty, this has caused much introspection; what I’m discovering isn’t nice to look at.

Ask me how much I’ve saved in twenty years? Zip. Well, that’s not entirely true. Thank goodness I have a savvy hubby who saves money in places I wouldn’t want to mention for fear of making you blush. So yes, I have some savings … through him.

Even more pressing, ask me how much I’ve given in twenty years? Ok, that I can brag about a bit; I love to give. I consider myself to be pretty generous.  I love taking people out, and giving lovely gifts; it’s nothing, really. I just put it on this shiny silver card that I carry in my wallet, and I don’t feel a thing. The problem with this shiny card is that they send letters to my hubby, and he’s never in a good mood after opening their mail. What’s that about?

Ask me where I’m sitting right now, writing this book. Starbucks, but isn’t that where all the cool writers write? Yup, I’m pretty trendy sitting here with my five dollar coffee that’s already cold. I think I must own stocks in this place. Oh no, I don’t mean their Bean Stock, which I’ve heard great things about. I’ve decided to go a more modest method: If I buy one five-dollar coffee per day, let’s see … I’m not so great at math, but that’s got to be around one thousand six hundred twenty five dollars a year (Pretty impressive “estimate,” eh?)! Ok, I totally used my calculator, but getting back to my “investment” … With all that five-dollar coffee inside me, I should be heading towards becoming a part owner of this place one day! Or maybe not …?

Are you wondering where else all my money has gone in the last twenty years? Me too, but I have some ideas. I love movies. Actually, I really just like the popcorn; the movie is an added bonus. I also love clothes … and “bling.” Not Tiffany’s “bling,” but “bling” nonetheless. I’m not a show off, but I really like those big rhinestone earrings that hit the shoulder (from their great length) and make my head go lop-sided when I’ve put one in one ear. I’ve lost my wedding ring … twice. I’ve owned some great clothing too, but I don’t know where half of it went. I did see one of my items in a local Salvation Army store, and I almost bought it again; it was beautiful! 

I’m not a “shoe-person.” I don’t fully understand those people. I mean, what a waste of money. Not to mention, what a clutter nightmare! Don’t get me wrong; I do own a pair of heels that I bought in three different colors to be sure that I could match all the basic wardrobe essentials. I have boots with both heels and without (because sometimes you just don’t want to wear heels while grocery shopping), and each of these are in three different colors. But that’s all just practical, isn’t it? I have runners for dance (naturally in every color to match my hip hop Adidas jackets). And of course, I purchase new runners every six months for running because I don’t want to injure my coming-up-to-midlife knees! Nope, I’m definitely not a shoe person; I think I’m more of a coat-person. Now that makes more sense to me. I have a coat in every shape, color, size, and style you can imagine. Leather, tweed, fleece, down … I consider this shopping addiction more practical, as I live in a winter city. Keep warm and stylish. Win-win.

I’m also a sucker for diet books and trends; if there’s a diet book out there, I own it. I’m considering opening my own library in my basement … Name a diet-fad product, and I’m sure I’ve tried it: Pills, shakes, bars, metabolism boosting drinks, and stretch-mark cream (what a farce!) … I’ve done every diet program out there: Jenny Craig, weight watchers, raw food, vegan, drink-nothing-but-soup (I passed out on that one), Eat Clean, Balkan, and fitness model (on this one, I got to put chocolate pudding powder in my protein shakes! What a treat!). Then there’s all the equipment I’ve purchased (old exercise equipment makes lovely side tables, by the way): the Bosu, the Band, Kettlebells, a treadmill, the Yoga Block, a medicine ball, a bender ball, a Pilates ball (really anything that ends with “ball” … ). And I can’t forget to mention my workout DVD library, which consists of Jillian Michaels, Windsor Pilates, yoga (every type just to cover all my bases), Hip Hop Abs, P90X, and Richard Simmons. Did I just say Richard Simmons? Geesh, how did that get in there? Who has that one, right …?

I should probably just make a quick note about my love for my hair; it’s my crown, and I love doing funky things to it. There’s nothing like a trip to the hair salon! I HAVE to dye my hair. No really, I do; you should see how many grey hairs I have! I even have them in my eyebrows, which also calls for a trip to the spa to get my brows plucked and waxed. Maybe add a manicure onto my bill while you’re at it. Add a pedicure for ten dollars? What a great deal! Twist my rubber arm! 

Last thing, I promise. Mascara. I have yet to find the one that gives me the lashes that Drew Barrymore has on the commercials. One day, I will find my dream mascara. It’s a long-term goal that I have. Wow. I think that’s it … 

Yes, as you can see, I’ve made a huge investment in a product called “me”; it’s the edge I’ve lived on the last twenty years. It’s the edge that keeps me thinking that a new shirt, a night out, a manicure, a new diet, and a Starbucks will give me the life I’ve always wanted. I will be hot. I will be sexy. I will have the respect of everyone around me. That’s what the advertisement said, just before it said, “I’m worth it.”

Yet I’m discovering that this “edge” really isn’t an edge at all. It has become dull and unfulfilling. I’ve given it a real “go” for a while now. It keeps promising me “babe” status, but I find I have to keep going back for refills. I’m sick of it. My hubby’s sick of it. Actually, I think he’s more sick of those letters he keeps getting from this stranger person named “Visa.” Maybe you relate?

A self-centred existence leaves us with a life without purpose. I have found a new edge that I’m dying to tell you about.  That’s what this book is about.  I want to share my journey with you with the hope that you may also find the strength to make the shift to a more altruistic, adventurous life filled with purpose you were born to find.  It’s not about money or stuff in essence, but a way of living that in some strange way delivers the promise that all of the stuff I just mentioned tried to promise, but couldn’t deliver. It’s called being a culture-rebel. What does this look like? Let’s find out.

To  buy:

-Connie Smith Jakab

http://culturerebel.com/

By |August 16th, 2012|Uncategorized|0 Comments
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Repost, in gratitude: Roll Some Stones Away

(from October 2009)

For Karen, Janet and Charlotte…thank you.

Right after I made the decision to follow Christ when I was fifteen years old, a sweet family took me under their wings. I spent a lot of time with my youth pastor, his wife and their four beautiful children. I’d go over to hang out, to attempt to learn to cook (some things just can’t be learned by some people), to watch their kids. But it was more than that. So much more than that. My youth pastor’s wife listened to me. As if, and I know this is such a cliché, but as if I were the only person in the world and she couldn’t wait to hear what was in my head and heart. She listened to my dreams. She asked to listen to my poetry. (In fact, I remember one night, very late, while I sat in her kitchen watching her retile her floor, and I read her every poem I had written up to that point.) We kept a journal together when I went away to college. She showed me how to be a follower of Christ, how to be a wife, how to be a mom, how to be a friend. She made me want to be some of these things (wife and mom) when I hadn’t wanted to before. I don’t know where I’d be, frankly, if she hadn’t poured and poured and poured into me.


A few years after I got married and started to attend a church with my husband, I met a woman who had been married a while longer than I had been. Who was farther along in her faith. Who had walked with Christ through a hard marriage season of her own. And, if I recall, she approached me to get together and talk about marriage for awhile. She also listened. She shared her life and her struggles and how Christ got her through some things. She challenged me. She prayed for me and with me. I recall one time, sharing something so intimate with her, and watching tears roll down her cheeks, and she gripped my hand and held it for awhile and said she had no idea. I don’t know where I’d be, frankly, if she hadn’t poured and poured and poured into me.


I now have a woman in my life who I’ve known for several years but who I turned to in a dark time recently. Oh, sweet Charlotte. Everyone should have a Charlotte in their lives. She has listened. In fact, she has heard it all. The whole story. The whole horrible story with all the details that no one but Jesus had known up til that point. She has shown grace. She has prayed. She has given the best advice, over and over and over again, that I have ever gotten in my entire life. She has held me up. She has looked me in the eyes and told me it was hard but that I could do it. That I could keep walking. But that, and I know what she meant when she said this, if I ever chose to stop walking, there would be grace there too.


Author Jane Rubietta writes, “We need someone to help move the stones. Jesus didn’t move the stone himself, and neither did Lazarus {when called out of his own tomb, three days dead}. Instead, Jesus appointed someone else to do the work that could be done with human hands. Who will help move your stones? This is no task for a dead woman. This is a task for a friend, a friend not afraid of stench, not afraid of decay, not worried about the deterioration of soul and spirit and body that comes from living in this world.” She goes on to say, “That’s a friend. If you must be dead in a cave, make sure you have a friend posted at the stone of your heart to roll it away at the right time.”


Charlotte rolled away my stone at the most dead point of my life, she being able to because she had been dead and was now fully alive herself. And then she told me to roll all the worries and hurt onto Jesus, that He could handle it. I don’t know where I’d be, frankly, if she hadn’t poured and poured and poured into me.


And now it’s my turn. I’ve never been more ready, or more afraid, to help others become free. To roll some stones away of friends in need. I look back at these three women who poured and poured, and I thank each one, and I thank Jesus for such gifts, and I walk on, taking the hands of two women who need me.


May I continue the legacy, live up to what Jesus is calling me to do, be just half of the gentleness and the wisdom and the joy that these women were to me.
By |May 28th, 2012|Uncategorized|0 Comments
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The Final Few Things I’d Say to the Woman I Met This Weekend (Yes, Turns Out There’s More)

You represent so many of the women who resonate with what I write.  You represent the women who send me emails thanking me for sharing my heart or asking for advice on whether to file for divorce or fight for custody.  You represent the women who whisper to me at speaking engagements that their marriages are so hard and they don’t know if they can stand it even one more day.  You represent the women who tell me that they don’t know how to love their husbands and be a Christian at the same time because they despise their husbands.

So, though everything I’ve said in the last two posts are things I believe and wish for you…the forgiving, the letting go, the healing, the moving on…I want to say one more (long) thing.

I am so, so sorry for your pain.  There is a reason that you’re stuck and it’s because the pain is so deep.  You have been so very wounded, down into your core.  The man that committed before God to love you more than anyone else not only didn’t love you well, he hurt you repeatedly.  Sometimes unintentionally, but sometimes he actually meant to do you harm.  I have heard the worst stories of hatred living itself out in marriages that I have to ask God to help me not remember the details.  And I have lived it…so I don’t need to ask God to help me imagine.  I know the pain.  And it’s a very unique pain to be a lonely, Christian, married woman.

But know this…you are not alone.  And when I say that I mean, unfortunately, you are in good company.  There are more of us out there than I ever imagined when I first started telling my story.  You do not walk alone.  And when I say that I also mean, Jesus is with you.  He has been with you, he is with you now, and he will be with you.  He was sitting beside you (even closer than that actually) throughout each moment of your marriage.  He’s there.  You are not alone.

And I would also say, he wants to bring you healing, restoration, new life.  His desire for you is not for you to carry your pain on your back like a weight for the rest of your days.  His desire for you is to rescue you, to bind up the wounds, and then to redeem the pain and turn the ugly into something gorgeous.  He can do that for you.  I’m seeing it in my life, so I know it’s totally true…sometimes in tiny slivers, sometimes in huge, sweeping strokes.  But gorgeousness is there.  And it’s waiting for you too.  You simply (and I say simply with a smile on my face knowing it’s the farthest thing from simple) need to ask him to help you let go and move on.  He will.  It will take a while.  But he will.  I promise.

And then, sweet girl, I would pray over you.  So if you are hurting today, please picture me praying for you right this moment:

Heavenly Father, I give you your daughter.  She is hurting.  She is broken.  We come to you and I place her on your lap.  Please hold her so very close.  Please help her tangibly experience your presence in intimate ways.  Please show yourself to her as her husband (Isaiah 54:5).  Please show yourself to her as her healer (Jeremiah 30:17).  Please restore her joy (Psalm 51:12).  Please help her to release her pain to you and move forward and look ahead (Philippians 3:13).  Please give her something to look forward to (2 Peter 3:13).  Please use her pain to bring comfort to other women who are hurting (2 Corinthians 1:3-4).  Remind her that you think she is precious and that you love her completely (Isaiah 43:4).  Remind her that you will always, always be with her, no matter what (Matthew 28:20).  Amen.

(Take some time today and look up the verses referenced in the prayer and ask the Spirit to make them come to life for you.)

By |May 15th, 2012|Uncategorized|3 Comments
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A Few More Things I’d Say to that Woman

There are three more things I wish I could say to the woman I met this weekend (see previous blog).

My literal first thought when she started talking to me was, “Let it go.”  I’m so glad I don’t say everything out loud anymore that comes into my head.  She referred to her ex-husband as her husband innumerable times.  She referred to him living in her home even though she had left it and given it to him.  She tracked down his current and old flames.  She is clearly in so much pain in this moment that it is consuming her.  It took me ten minutes to know that this woman is obsessed with her now-ended painful marriage.  Still.  One year after the divorce was final. 

So I wanted to tell her that there is not one single thing she can do to change what happened to her, to change what she chose to do, to change how she was treated.  And that letting it fill her every waking moment was only killing her, not bringing her back to life.  I wanted to just say, “You can’t change your past.  Please, please let it go.”

But I didn’t.  For two reasons.  One, I don’t know this woman and it wasn’t my place. (At least, I don’t think it was my place.)  And two, it wouldn’t have mattered.  She’s not going to let it go until she wants to let it go and she clearly doesn’t want to let it go.

Another thing I would’ve have liked to say to this hurting woman is this.  I would bet there would not have been anything she could have done differently.  Honestly.  Abusers, adulterers, addicts…ones who have lived a good deal of their lives the way they want with no evidence of remorse…tend to not change (unless the Spirit of the living God falls on them and they are transformed from the inside out, which can happen).  But in her case, with this many paramours floating around as background music during her entire marriage, she could not have done anything to change him or to change their situation.  I would want her to be free of that.  Because I could tell in that ten minutes that she is so angry with herself for not being able to keep her man (she never truly had him to begin with, I’d also want to tell her).

Lastly, to revisit the question that got under my skin that I talked about yesterday (again, see previous blog) of “Why did God let me stay in my marriage so long?”

Oh sweet woman.  Don’t be mad at God.  Please.  Not for this.  For cancer, sure.  For a child being taken at an early age, yes.  For a friend being killed in Iraq, absolutely.  Wrestle with God over those kinds of things.  But this?  This hurt was inflicted upon you by another person, not by God.  And while it was happening – each and every incident – was being seen by God and his heart was breaking for you even more than yours was.  He held you while you chose to stay.  Even when it didn’t feel like it.  He was there.

And dear woman, he still is. 

By |May 14th, 2012|Uncategorized|1 Comment
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