The Selfless Side of Parenting

So honored to be featured on Susie Miller's blog today! I was asked to write about, ahem, parenting...for which I feel absurdly inadequate. Still, here are my thoughts and hopes...

Jesus will disapoint you if... special guest writer Aimee Walnofer

I would be remiss if I did not mention how long I've known Aimee....she and her sister used to give me a ride home from youth group and once in a while we'd stop at the Donut Hut in Mentone for a bedtime snack (if you remember the Donut Hut then you realize not only how long we've known one another, but how old we are!). Aimee always makes me laugh, moves me by her intelligence, and inspires me by her faith and depth. She recently wrote a book that you should definitely pick up not only because it is inexpensive, but because it is amazing. It is called A Girl called Foote.

Jesus Will Disappoint You If...

...you have a custom-made agenda for Him.

Over the last few years, I’ve learned the lesson that I have very little power. I know that's contrary to what the world is constantly trying to pep us up with.

“You can do ANYTHING you set your mind to!” 

I won't go so far as to call the above statement a lie because I think people who spout similar phrases probably believe them and have good intentions, but alas, I fear such people are misguided.

I mean, think about it...what do I truly have power over?

*thinking hard for a moment and coming up with…*

Me.

Little ole me.

Yep. That's about it.

I can choose to make myself be kind, choose to make myself seek wisdom, choose to make myself exercise, and choose to make myself think before I act.

But even in all of that, I don't have total control.

If I get some horrible disease, it's not likely to be my fault because I live a very healthy lifestyle. Still, I can't make sure it doesn't happen. No matter how vigilant of a driver I am, I could still accidentally change lanes right under the carriage of a semi truck on the freeway. That certainly wouldn't be on purpose.

Even in rudimentary ways, I don't have complete control over myself.

A few years ago, I was under a lot of stress from different sources, and there was one situation in particular that was infuriating me. I knew what was best to resolve the issue (I don't say that sarcastically because I really DID know what was best and important in that situation), but the only person who had any power to change anything about it was unwilling. It was to their detriment and the solution was so simple, yet they refused. My frustration with them and anger with my own impotence was so great that I kinda, sorta, most definitely... flipped out.

I was in the shower (home alone, thank God) and I started screaming...and screaming...and screaming.

Stupid?

Yeah...

Embarrassing?

Mm hmm. (Even though no one was around to hear it.)

Stress relieving?

Oh, yeah.

Would I recommend it?

Not as a regular part of one's routine.

I didn't want to do it, but just like the build up of steam in a kettle will make it scream, so (occasionally) will a build up of frustration and stress in me.

I had been praying for months about that situation, asking God what my role was to fix it. That’s where I went wrong: I assumed that my role was to fix it, that if I just listened carefully enough and discerned things just so, then I could right the wrong. Obviously, that wasn’t happening, in spite of my best and well-intentioned efforts, and the result was a soapy, dripping, enraged me, screeching my lungs out in an echoing, slippery, closet-sized area.

I was extremely disappointed…ear piercingly so.

You see, I had an agenda for Jesus. I wanted Him to show me how I could change another person's will. I wanted for me and Him to be a tag team of sorts and dually show this person the error of their ways so that their own life would be improved for THEIR sake. (I wasn't even being selfish!)

That didn't happen.

After my squeaky clean shrieking fit, I realized that something needed to change, not in the other person because that clearly wasn't happening, but something in me. I needed to think differently if I was going to carry on, if I was going to be healthy in mind and vocal chords.

I acknowledged that I'd been trying to do something which I was powerless to do and I'd expected God to do something He never promised to do.

God will not violate the free wills which He has granted us, not yours, not mine and not *insert name of person presently frustrating you here*'s.

The main point of Jesus's ministry was to save us from sin...our own personal sin, not the sins of others. Neither did He ever make any promises that His incarnation, death and resurrection would ensure my good relationships with friends and family members, nor my body's good health, nor the realization of my career aspirations, vacation plans, etc.

When we think He has promised us those things, we are wrong and that's where we get disappointed.

That's what happened to some of Jesus's disciples. I can just hear them after Christ delivered His difficult teaching in John 6:53-58, grumbling: "What's all this about eating His flesh and living forever? I came for the snacks and good times, not this bizarre mumbo jumbo. I'm out." (a very loose paraphrase of John 6:60 & 66.)

So is Jesus enough?

It depends on what you want Him for.

I’ll be honest, I want Him to make all of my dreams come true, the unselfish ones and the selfish ones. However, I’ve realized that He never promised to do that, and that believing otherwise only leads to frustration and disappointment.

Is He enough to help me live a meaningful and thoughtful life in the midst of all the difficulties I face now and tomorrow?

Yes, and as I attempt to do so, He has promised never to leave me nor forsake me. Hebrews 13:5b

Aimee Walnofer is learning to be less surprised by her desperate need for God’s grace, and simply more thankful for its abundance as she continues to claw around trying to live life well. Under the name A.E. Walnofer, she has recently published a novel entitled A Girl Called Foote. Set in England in the early nineteenth century, it is the coming of age story of two remarkable people who live very different lives. The Kindle version is available on Amazon for just $0.99. The paperback, unfortunately, costs a bit more.

Making it Home blog tour with Emily Wierenga

Today I have the honor of writing on Emily Wierenga's Blog as a part of her Making it Home blog tour. Simply click on Making it Home abd you'll find your way to her blog!

I share why I call my blog Cypress and Fern...as you may guess, it's all about making a home.

I also hope you will purchase a copy of Emily's newest book...Making it home: Finding my way to Peace, Idenity and Purpose..

Special Guest Writer Kate Gilliard

I met Kate when I visited Galati, Romania a few months before I moved there eight years ago. Her warmth and kindness have long lasted in my memory as has her integrity in all areas of her life. I welcome her words here today.

                                                                                             

I’ve always experienced anxiety as personified. But somehow, she’s developed into someone more over the past year or so. An uninvited, shadowy other, standing close behind me but never beside or in front of me. I have a feeling she’s hiding her face so I can’t identify her clearly in a line-up when needed.

Only recently have I begun to learn that it might be okay for me to have human emotions. It also might be okay that I express those emotions outside of myself at times. Sounds like a simple truth, huh? Yet, it’s one of the most difficult lessons I’ve encountered.

You know… I’m a therapist. Every day I give others permission to grieve, to revel in joy, to speak authentically. I rarely give myself that permission. I’ve been called strong, brave, and confident my entire life. All of those things are true about me. It’s also true that I am heartbroken easily, cowardly in the face of conflict, and so incredibly dependent on others for self-worth.

Recently, I have begun to embrace gratitude for what I feel rather than briskly walking away from it all. Within my slow crawl toward emotional acceptance, a crack in my core is beginning to grow larger. Even I am surprised at what’s being birthed from that soul-opening. There are things about me I’ve never taken the time to learn.

I had my first panic attack about eight years ago on an airplane heading toward Romania where I lived for several months. I sat beside a teammate and thought I would die on that plane… alone. My teammate was sleeping and I dared not wake her merely because my heart was beating out of my chest, waiting to explode. My pain wasn’t valid compared to her needs. Fear made convenient decisions on my behalf so I didn't have to be honest.

My second panic attack was about a year ago. I was on top of a mountain, 45-minutes out of cell phone range, and in my car… alone. I pulled over to the side of the road, terrified and fighting desperately for breath.

Instead of dealing with the aftermath in isolation, I trusted my housemates. It took all the strength I could muster, but I did it. I decided my personhood was significant enough to talk about over supper. Consequently, I was loved. I was given space and time to speak about what may have caused anxiety to enter my life again.

That’s precisely where hope began.

Honesty is a daily pursuit. I’ve had a few more panic attacks within the past year. I’ve also talked about each one with my housemates, welcoming the wound-healing grace honesty has provided our home. Because I’ve learned, over and over again, that it’s worth it.

Anxiety may have initially been an uninvited guest. For now, however, she is welcomed. She is educating me in humanness. I am prayerful. I am hopeful. I am broken. But, I am no longer alone.

Kate Gilliard is an in-home therapist for children and their families, living in Chattanooga, Tennessee. She’s created home with four of her dearest friends in a 130-year-old house at the base of Lookout Mountain. She enjoys talking to the three turtles in their backyard fountain, spending time with older friends in water aerobics class, and eating breakfast food for every meal possible.

Special Guest Writer Mica Kucera: Clinging to our Hope in the Brokenness

I've known Mica since before she was born...how crazy is that? She has grown into an incredible woman walking a journey of brokenness with such grace that I cannot find words to describe it. I am humbled by her words here today...

Brokenness is....

....sitting in church on Sunday morning, surrounded by godly women who love you, two days after you found out round 4 of In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) did not work, holding a 10 week old twin baby girl Emma, the day before it was the due date of the twins I miscarried, silently sobbing while singing,

"Lord, I need You

Oh, I need You

Every hour I need You

My one defense

My righteousness

Oh, God how I need You"

( http://www.metrolyrics.com/lord-i-need-you-lyrics-matt-maher.html )

Over the past 4 years my husband and I have walked the infertility road, and the time of most brokenness has definitely been over the last year as we have gone through 4 rounds of IVF. In each round, brokenness looked very different.

Round 1, the thought never crossed my mind that it wouldn't work for us. And I was devastated when it didn't. Oh so broken. And in the broken He reminded me that it was OK and to cling to Him. That is where He wanted me.

Then Round 2, we got those precious words, "You are pregnant!" It was absolutely a beautiful and weird time. After 3 years and we were pregnant. I didn't know how to react other then pure confused joy. Well 2 weeks later we found out we were having identical twins. But it was overshadowed because I had started to bleed the day before which really freaked us out. A week later when they told us that one and then both of them stopped breathing, it deflated us. And there we were again. In the brokenness. And once again He held on to us as we walked through both the physical and emotional process of  losing what we wanted so badly. But in the brokenness, He reminded us that we have hope. We now know we can get pregnant!

So we excitedly jumped into Round 3. During my first days of bed rest after the procedure to implant those little embryos, fear hit me full force. I had no idea if I could survive finding out that another round did not work. As I was sitting there, Jesus gently reminded me through my bible study, that He had me. That there was nothing to fear. That He would walk with me in the depths of fear and brokenness and that if I would just abide, be still, and cling to him that I would be at complete peace.

After Round 3 did not work and we decided to go forth on Round 4, the brokenness came once again when we heard those dreaded words, "Not pregnant." There is something so terribly hard about all the hope being dashed in seconds. And yet such peace knowing that we can cling to His promises. And I definitely clung to this verse as a reminder. Ephesians 3:20 "Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us."

And days later, we still have no idea what we are going to do next or where God will lead us in our adventure, but I do know this. That I would not trade a second of our story. I would not do any of this time over again. The depth of my relationship with my Abba, with my husband, with my family, and my friends has been deepened. And God has used our brokenness time and time again. God being able to shine through our brokenness is the beauty of believing.

My favorite part of brokenness is that it is not just about being in the pit and in the hard. Brokenness is allowing our Abba Father to give us the hope, and the peace, and the beautiful joy that comes with giving everything to Him. With allowing Him to walk with us and love on us in the brokenness.

And although brokenness is bawling in bed later that Sunday night, it is also laying there with your raw heart being offered to our Lord, and feeling like you are wrapped in the comfort of our Abba Father's arms, in the biggest bear hug you could ever imagine filled with the peace, hope, and sweet joy that can only come from Him being with you in the brokenness.

My name is Mica Kucera. I love my Jesus, my husband, my friends and my family. My favorite things in life include reading, health through Young Living Essential Oils, minimizing my "things", and cooking from scratch. God has given me an incredibly joyful life that my hubby and I adventure through together.

Special Guest Writer Leah Freeman: A Great High Priest

What feels like a very long time ago, I taught second grade. Leah Freeman was in the very last class I ever taught. She's a grown woman now, pursuing a master's degree, with the sweetest heart for God and people. Please welcome her to this space today.

Nearly two years ago, I walked with a dear friend through the death of her father. It was completely unexpected, and she suddenly found her “world flipped upside down,” to use her and her husband’s words. I had to learn very quickly how to bear her pain without breaking and, as many can relate, this felt impossible.

I soon found that I not only took on her pain, along with my own and the rest of the world’s, but it seemed that all I noticed were the world’s hurts. I only saw brokenness. I couldn’t notice sunshine and leaves and grace when all I could see was death, addiction, assault, depression, and pain. It seemed that every news story I saw cut me deeply. When I heard about divorce or bullying or racism, I wouldn’t be surprised, because I soon realized that I was consistently expecting pain that had an unrelenting grip on those around me. As you can imagine, having faith seemed nearly impossible for me. “Lord, if we have a hard time bearing the pain of others without breaking, how are we supposed to live without crumbling?” But then I understood –

We were never meant to.

As I look at the life of Jesus, I see Him setting an example as He completely relied on the Father. I love the passage that says, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15). I truly believe that Jesus was tempted to wave a white flag in surrender, even as He knew that salvation would come through His death. He begged God to take this cup from Him, and yet He walked forward in obedience. Later in that passage, in chapter 5, the author talks about how, yes, “Jesus offered up prayers and supplications,” but He did so with “loud cries and tears” (Heb. 5:7).   

He felt our pain. He saw sadness and brokenness everywhere He went, and He even saw hurt in the eyes of His closest friends and family. However, He could bear it. It may have felt impossible, but He would combat that thinking by speaking truth to Himself and others. When asked how salvation could be possible, “Jesus looked at them and said, ‘With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible’” (Matt. 19:26). Jesus fully knew that we were never meant to carry the burden of salvation, but God made the impossible possible; Jesus knew that this was His purpose, but He also knew that our purpose was also far from over. As he prayed to the Father for the disciples and those that would come after them, He pleaded:

“I do not ask that you take them out of the world, but that you keep them from the evil one. They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world. Sanctify them in the truth; your word is truth. As you sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world” (Jn. 17:15).

Many times, yes, it is easier for us to look at God and wonder why He doesn’t just take us off the earth already – especially if we tend to easily get caught up in “What if?” questions! But the beauty of it is that Jesus specifically asked the Father to keep us in this world. Friends, God isn’t finished working through you yet. I truly believe that our God is a loving Father who wants more than anything to have you home with Him – just not now. Because even as the disciples were filled with sorrow at Jesus leaving them, He promised that it was better, for He was sending the Spirit, His Spirit to be with us while we are here on the earth. And in that I take hope. I take hope with the writer of Hebrews who proclaims that his hope is “a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever…” (Heb.6:19-20). Jesus intercedes for us. He hurts with us. He knows us better than we know ourselves. He loves us. He gives us strength. He came down to make a way for us to place not just our burdens, but others’ burdens, on His shoulders. And in that I rejoice.

Supplemental Music: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFkDqQtfs0w

Leah is currently in school to become a licensed Marriage and Family Therapist and works at an adoption agency with families pursuing embryo adoption. She is a number one fan of meaningful conversations, creation care, travel, social justice, fireflies, people, and their Creator. You can follow her blog at https://seekitlikesilverblog.wordpress.com/

Special Guest Writer Susie Miller: Barren

             

I met Susie in graduate school 16 years ago. All these years later, I often hear her affirming voice in my ear, reminding me of who I am and what is true about me. She is a lovely woman, extremely intelligent, and just so gifted. I'm honored for her to write here today. Susie wrote Listen, Learn, Love: How to Dramatically Improve Your Relationships in 30 days or Less! 

Barren, dry, cracked, parched, infertile, unproductive, withering, unfruitful, all images of emptiness yielding insatiable desire for what cannot be obtained with my own hands, by my own power. 

Longing, with heart and soul that seems to be reaping the effects it dreads. 

Tears shed in abundance until there are none left to be shed. 

Prayers uttered with no apparent response, growing weak and voiceless. 

Efforts, touches, words, devoid of passion as the barrenness consumes from the inside outward.  Heart, soul, countenance…Dry and brittle, lacking hope. 

Unless there is a deeper life, a greening of the soul that comes from outside the keeper. 

Hannah, (1Samuel 1: 1-28), in her barreness, refusing to be dry and brittle, poured out her soul to the Face of the One who alone could bring life.  She is baffled by her desires, and by her subsequent responses to unmet desires.  Elkanah demanded why his love and preference of Hannah was not enough to satisfy her soul's longings.  Essentially asking, “Why am I not enough?  Must you want more, you have me?”  Many women today long for a man to choose them above all others, claiming, “If only I had a husband, my life would be full.”

Hannah has Elkanah’s love, she is his favorite.  Peninnah, his 2^nd wife has his children, but not his heart and she mercilessly taunts Hannah.  Hannah doesn’t hide and pretend to be content, she endures the ridicule and wears her pain.   Hannah knows what she wants.  Honest about the desires of her heart- in a manner uncharacteristic of the times –she refuses to give up and settle into Elkanah’s love and just be satisfied.  She is unwilling to bury or silence her desires.

Am I?  Could I live with such honesty, courage and abandon.  Will I allow my passions to be spoken, or will I continue to silence them?   Hannah pours out her heart to God, offering back to Him the very thing she desires most, a son.  In a time when Israel was bathed in sinfulness, Hannah seeks the water for her dry and barren womb from the Hand of God.  She gives birth to Samuel, who will stand as the last judge, the first prophet of Israel.  He will grow to be the voice of God to both Saul and David as Israel enters the period of Kings. Exhibiting faith in an unseen truth.  Living with a passion that brings them both doubt and ridicule from others.

My life is full.  I have three children, the love of a husband who provides bountifully for us, and sacrifices for our needs.  Yet, in the midst of seemingly fruitful season, while pursuing a long awaited dream, I felt barren. Barren, dry, withering as I long for more in my marriage relationship, a seemingly ‘closed womb’ from which I long to bear fruit in an arena of ministry that is elusive.  Filled with desire to know who I am in a world- much like Hannah’s -that defines women by an external measure.  Christian, secular, Israelite, 20^th century, cultures laden with longing.  Women, with an unseen barrenness, unmet longings, which only God can address. 

What will I do with my longings?  Will I seek the Face of the One who can answer the suffering, the brittleness, with the presence of His face, His covenant love and faithfulness.  Herein is the answer.  The courage I see in Hannah, to seek the ears of God that she might pour out her heart, her bitterness, her sorrow and discontent to Him who would not despise her honesty.  Her raw hunger for a child, no matter what else was “good” in her life, draws me to the sacred space where I can pour out my longings, my heartache, my unmet desires to God…to the One who can bear my honesty, who invites and is pleasured by my pursuit of His Face, regardless of my countenance.  I believe this is faith, and I choose to continue with hope in the barren lands of my life.

Susie Miller is The Better Relationship Coach™, a Speaker and the Best Selling Author of Listen, Learn, Love: how to Dramatically Improve Your Relationships in 30 days or Less!. 

As a therapist turned coach, Susie is passionate about equipping people create betterrelationships with God, themselves, and each other. For over 20 years, she has helped people reduce stress, improve communication,increase intimacy, and enjoy meaningful relationships.

Susie is a cancer survivor; her story includes  numerous life challenges which have shaped her work, but she’s known for her outlook on life as a “possibilitarian”. She and her husband John have been married 32 years, have 3 adult children, and live in the DC area.  She loves dark chocolate, great shoes, and lingering conversations.  You can connect with her at www.susiemiller.com.

The Relationship Alphabet by Zach Brittle: Chapter 1 A is for Arguments

Zach Brittle is releasing his book The Relationship Alphabet today! It is available for 99cents on Amazon Kindle: relationshipalphabetbook.com

Especially for the release of his book, we are posting the first chapter here today. I am excited and eager to introduce you to this man and his book. I've known Zach for the better part of my adulthood and his friendship, along with his wife Rebecca, have been irreplaceable in my life.

A is for Arguments

Just for kicks, I decided to ask Google for help finding marriage and relationship words that start with “A.” I got a lot of help with my Scrabble game, but not too much else. I did find one site dedicated to “marriage vocabulary.” The list of “A” words included: Acceptance, Admiration, Affection, Affinity, Allegiance, Appreciation, Approval, and Attentive.

All of those words are relevant and essential to healthy relationship. They’re good words. And while I think that you and your partner should accept, admire, and all those other things, I also think you should argue. Maybe it’s just me, but I think if you’re not arguing, you’re probably not committed.

When engaged couples come into my office for pre-marital counseling, one of my first questions is, “Could you tell me about when, how, and why you argue?” If they don’t or can’t or won’t argue, that’s a major red flag. If you’re in a committed relationship and you haven’t yet had a big argument, please do that as soon as possible. It’s important for you to understand the anatomy of your arguments so that you can uncover the patterns and themes that recur. Most importantly, it’s critical for you to know that arguing is okay. It can even be productive.

When I begin therapy with a couple, I ask them to argue with one another during the first few sessions, just so we can normalize it a bit. Arguing is just part of the deal--it’s one of the permissions of a committed relationship, kind of like sex. Think about it, you get to have sex with your partner and you get to yell at them at the top of your lungs. Can you do that with a colleague at work? (If you answered yes, maybe you should find a new job.)

John Gottman discovered that about two-thirds of all arguments are perpetual. This means that, most likely, five years from now you’ll be fighting about the same thing you were fighting about five years ago. It might be her mother, or the way you put away the dishes, or his introversion--it doesn’t matter. Sixty-nine percent of your problems are not going away. It’s a simple, statistical fact.

Now consider this question: Is that discouraging or encouraging? Typically, when my clients find Gottman’s statistic discouraging, it’s because they know exactly what their perpetual problems are and they feel overwhelmed at the thought of spending the next thirty-five years arguing about them. But when the numbers encourage couples, it’s usually because they realize that they’re (statistically) normal. They’re relieved to discover that their relationship is doomed just because they have the same old arguments over and over. In fact, it may be a sign that their relationship has a hope they hadn’t previously imagined.

My bias is that the reality of perpetual problems is encouraging. It allows, requires, even invites, perspective about the wide range of conflicts in our relationships and the role those conflicts play. More importantly, it suggests another “A” word: Agency. Agency means you’re not subject to the whim of the moment. On the contrary, you get to choose how you act, what you say, and when you say it, in the midst of each moment. It means you control the conflicts in your life, rather than the other way around.

For example, think about some of your most common points of contention with your partner. In the moment, it’s easy to get caught up in the power of a single issue, but what if you took a few steps back to explore the anatomy of your arguments. How do they start? How do they escalate? How do they go off the rails? How do they end? Once you start to map out these regular arguments and understand their patterns, you’ll find you can predict them, anticipate their trajectory, and perhaps even defuse them. This can seem a daunting task for those arguments that feel older than a fine wine, but give it a try. You may be surprised at the insight you gain into your relationship.

Kindness helps. It can pave the way to repair old wounds and remind you that your relationship is bigger than your argument. Humor helps. It can break the tension of the moment and provide the opportunity to connect anew. Perspective helps. It can refocus your attention, pulling back the curtain to reveal that an overwhelming impasse may in reality be a very manageable annoyance.

I’m not suggesting that some arguments aren’t worth pursuing. About 31 percent of them should be addressed seriously and sometimes through therapy. It could be your anniversary. Her affair. His addiction.  But for those perpetual problems—the issues that neither endanger nor desert you—make some choices. Choose kindness. Choose humor. Choose perspective. Whenever you can solve an argument, do. Whenever you can’t, recognize your differences and remember that you’re normal.

Whether you find it encouraging or discouraging, arguing is simply part of the sacred, beautiful, confounding reality of committed relationships. You may not get to choose what you disagree on. But you can choose what you do next.

Discussion questions:

1. Do you remember your first fight (assuming you’ve had it already)? What was it about? Who won?
2. Are arguments rare or common in your relationship? How do you feel about that?
3. What do you know about your “perpetual arguments”? What do you find encouraging about Gottman’s findings about perpetual conflict? What is discouraging?
4. Take a recent or common argument and apply these four questions to determine its anatomy: How did it start? How did it escalate? How did it go off the rails? How did it end?
5. What would you like to change about how you and your partner approach argument?  What are some steps you can take to accomplish this change?

Zach Brittle, LHMC has been teaching, coaching, and counseling couples for over 15 years. He is a Certified Gottman Therapist with a private practice specializing in evidence based couples therapy. Zach and his wife have been happily married for 17 out of 18 years. They live in Seattle, WA with their two daughters. They own a mini-van and most of their silverware they got as wedding presents.

His writings have been featured in the Washington Post, Verily Magazine, Happify, and The Gottman Relationship blog.

www.zachbrittle.com

Special Guest Writer: Adam Busch

Today I welcome Adam Busch to the blog. He is my bil (brother in law) and what a brother he is! I am honored to call him family and always amazed at his talent.

It's been 8-months since Bono took that dramatic spill near Central Park possibly ending his ability to play the guitar again.  Now he and his band-mates from U2 are back in the Big Apple performing to crowds of aging 40-somethings and dancing millennials who weren't a sparkle in anyones eye when U2 released their first album in 1976.  The rockers are in New York performing this week on a leg of their iNNOCENCE + eXPERIENCE Tour, named as much for the message they're preaching and the name of their 13th studio album, Songs of Innocence (2014).

U2's album covers like those of Led Zeppelin, The Ramones, Pink Floyd, The Beatles and others have wrapped the musical innards with images to evoke and enhance the passion of the lyrics and rhythm contained in tape, CD, or streamed.  Starting with U2's first studio album, Boy, where a young, pre-teenage boy inspects the depths of your soul with dark, doe like eyes.  Or, who of you haven't at one-time recreated the 1987, Joshua Tree cover.  I know some pilgrims that have been to that barren spot in the middle of the Mohave Desert to pay respects to the fallen tree.

The Songs of Innocence cover speaks to me like no other.

No,  I'm not talking about the meant-for-the-masses cover that we all have in our iTunes download.

I'm talking about this one.

The one of U2's drummer, Larry Mullen Jr.

Depending on the filter you view life through, what in the black and white image shouts at you? Is it the tattoo on Larry's shoulder?  Is it Larry himself?  The cross on the other man's chest?  I would imagine for a good amount of you, a shirtless Larry Mullen Jr. is heavenly.  Does an image of a man grabbing onto the waste of another man make you squirm?

"It doesn't sit terribly comfortably, but it's a good image," said Mullen Jr. in an interview to The Observer.

So, what's the story?

The guy Larry's holding on to is his 18-year-old son, Aaron Elvis Mullen.  There is a unique, dynamic, sometimes volatile relationship between a parent and a child.  Not to mention a teenage boy with his father.

How would we have staged the picture?  Most likely we'd reverse the role.  The boy holding grabbing on to his father.  It's what we hope for with our children.  It's what we beg God for.

But we know parenthood does not consult with us when making plans.

So we hold on.

We grab our sons and say "It's OK.  I've got you. Please....don't...go."

Please.

Please!

You know we do it for years.  From that moment of that first vocal announcement of their presence on Earth.  We train them to go.  We nourish, encourage, scold, teach and prepare them to walk away.  Like a mother bird we nudge them to the ledge,

inch-by-inch, year-by year; they look over.  We nudge.

Nudge.

Push.

Boom, they're gone; and with them a piece of our identity goes too.  And they soar, they fall, they are injured, they grow, and struggle.  Some come back; and as the father in Luke 15, we get down on our knees and hold on.  We show them it's OK.  The son has returned.  

We shield their Innocence from Experience.

"Hold me close,
Hole me close and don't let me go
Hold me close like I'm someone you might know
Hold me close, the darkness just lets
us see
who we are
I've got your light inside of me."- “Iris”-Songs of Innocence-2014- U2

Adam Busch- Houston, Texas by way of Colorado, Oregon and California.  I am the husband of an amazing and gracious woman coming up on our 20^th anniversary.  I have three crazy, wonderful kids that are becoming unique individuals.  Looking for more opportunities to allow me to spend more time on vacation; let me know if you’ve found the secret.

Emotions: A pathway into the presence of God by special guest writer A.M. Nelson

Angela Nelson and I attended college together....which means we met 25 years ago! She is an excellent writer and you can find her blogging HERE and also find her book, We Are All Prodigals HERE, I am honored to share this space with her today...

There have been several posts about depression on this blog and this has caused me to think about how sometimes it is right to feel sad. Some things in life are just sad, and it would be un-human not to feel sadness over them. We should give ourselves time and space to feel sadness. And anger. And disappointment. And all the other negative emotions we try to suppress and ignore, as if denying their existence will make them go away. 

It doesn't do any good to pretend we are not feeling what we are actually feeling. The emotions stay inside, and maybe become blown out of proportion or twisted into something corrupted because they are never exposed to the healing light of God.

When we allow our "negative" feelings to grow and swell (eventually) into mature thought, we allow God to deliver and redeem us. This can be a scary process. Most people have dark places in their souls that they are afraid to enter. And yet God promises that He will never overwhelm us, but will enable us to stand. And I have found this promise to be true.

Jesus shares our burdens, and even more, He opens his heart to us, so that we can share--only a very tiny amount I am sure--in His emotions and thoughts as well. Which is absolutely incredible. And the feeling of being united with Christ in this way is full and sweet and comforting beyond anything I can describe.

So why are we so afraid of our emotions, if this is the place to which they lead? And why do we deem some emotions acceptable, and others not? 

In reality there is no such thing as "good" or "bad" emotions. Emotions simply are. The choices and actions that result from our emotions can be good or bad, but the emotion itself is simply human. It means that we are not a machine.

Emotions are inconvenient. We hear about a tragedy on the news while driving a car. We begin to feel sadness, but quickly shut it down because we are heading to the grocery store or to an appointment, or maybe we have kids in the car who would see. Why not turn the radio off, feel what we feel for a few minutes, maybe even cry a little and pray for those involved? Join our hearts with God's and receive his insight, comfort and truth? Sometimes we do not have time to do even this, but other times we do.

Emotions make us feel vulnerable, open to being hurt. If we let our true emotions show, we might be rejected or ridiculed. In fact sometimes we definitely will be. But God will not reject us, and His is the opinion that matters.

Jesus came into our world and shared in the full range of our humanness. The "good" emotions as well as the "bad." He wept openly when he was sad, expressed frustration when the disciples were slow to understand, and pleasure when others did understand. I imagine an open and unguarded face was as rare and different in his day as it is in ours.

Being unafraid to feel your true emotions is one way to live in the presence of God. Not just at church or in Bible study, but while vacuuming or holding a fussy baby or right smack in the middle of an office meeting. When we live wholeheartedly, we can reliably turn to the presence of God because we are no longer holding him at bay. We do not have to be afraid of the dark, scary places in our souls because we have already been there and back, with him. 

It is not easy to live in this way. Most of the messages we receive, whether from our families growing up or our schools or our churches or our friends or whomever, teach us to present only the presentable to the outer world. But oh, the burdens we carry: The hidden, locked up emotions that fester and show up as compulsions and pains and addictions and etc.

To live wholeheartedly is to choose the narrow, difficult path, to swim upstream against an unremitting strong current. If it wasn't for the grace and help of God, I doubt we could do it at all.

But how rare and wonderful it is to meet someone who is lives wholeheartedly. Someone who lives unafraid of emotion, who has allowed Jesus into their deepest, darkest places so that those places are filled with grace, and that grace shines out from their eyes. And invites us in.

Tightening up Ship by Special Guest Writer Amy Koller

I've known Amy most my life...the kind of person you don't remember not knowing. I welcome her words and perspective here today.

When you know there is a storm coming, you prepare. If cartoons have taught us nothing else, it’s that we should be more like dutiful ants than procrastinating grasshoppers. As Christ Followers, we are told that in this life, we will face trails. There is no “might” thrown in to that verse to give us any false hope of smooth sailing. So why then do we not keep vigilant and prepare always? Maybe you do, and that’s great. But I tend to be more of the last minute looter – raiding the shelves of the Walmart while the wind throws cows across the parking lot.  

My recent storm had lots of precursory warnings. The Spirit sent me alerts and flags at many different stages leading up to it. I would hear bits of a message on the radio and think, “Yikes – was that meant for me?” Our pastor even shared a sermon that spoke directly to my situation. It was about how God loves us too much not to expose our sin. My response was to ask God to tell my husband about it. Basically, I used his Spiritual Leadership of our family as a way to avoid personal responsibility for any comfortable habits that I wanted to keep.

The final move by the Spirit to bolster me for the coming waves was a billboard we encountered while on vacation 470 miles away from home. Small waves had already begun to land on my beaches by the time I raised my eyes to the two story tall Jesus beckoning me to trust Him.

I thought it odd that there was a billboard with a huge picture of Jesus and the words, “I trust in You”. I nodded and thought to myself, “I do.” But just hours later when the biggest waves pounded my shores, I realized how conditional my trust of Jesus truly had been. I trusted Him with my salvation. Jesus, you’ve got me on that final check-in day right? And Jesus, I’m counting on you for those things unseen; the spiritual Superbowls ahead. But Jesus, I’ve got this day to day part ok. I spoke to God daily; often multiple times throughout the day. I praised Him. I thanked Him. I beseeched Him. But I really trusted in me and my ability to process daily life. I had been through 20 years as an adult and I see now that I had made security my god. I had turned blessings into idols, and contentment into a religion. God had been preparing me for a cleaning that I did not want. Instability was my enemy and I had done all that I could to weed it out of my life. Instability made me question my sanity – literally.

I had been through many storms, and I had called out to God and been rescued. He grew me through those trials and I trusted Him to carry me through them. Yet, I realized that it was the everyday that needed an overhaul. I was deep in another storm, and Jesus was my anchor once again. But this time, the Spirit was begging with me to keep hold of that anchor after the waves died down and the clouds broke apart.

1 Peter 1:17 (The Message) You call out to God for help and he helps – he is a good Father that way. But don’t forget, he’s also a responsible Father, and won’t let you get by with sloppy living.

I was definitely living sloppy, spiritually speaking. And my loving Father was not pleased. My gratitude was dead and my praise was tired. He had gently asked me to clean up my act for months. But I had used Grace as a giant rug to sweep everything under. When confronted, I mourned my ignorance and my eyes were opened. I was ashamed, afraid, and humbled, which is the beginning of wisdom.

Peter goes on in verse 18 to warn us that, “Your life is a journey you must travel with a deep consciousness of God.” I love that! It doesn’t say that God is to be regarded as a handrail that we grab on to when we stumble. He’s not an 800 number we call when times get tough. He’s not a cash advance store where we can get an advance on our own strength. He is my strength! He is my plan. He is my Captain. “I say to God, ‘Be my Lord!’ Without You, nothing makes sense.” Psalm 16:2 (The Message)

As I emerge from this storm into clearer skies, I will keep hold of God’s hand which has supported me so fully through this time. I want to continue to walk hand in hand so that I’m not just grasping for it in desperation as I’m sinking. Because there will be a next time, and a next time after that. But I know my anchor holds. Yes Jesus, I trust in You!

Amy Koller - Jesus, Family, and whatever other adventures come my way

Special Guest Post: Shelley Manha on depression

Over the next couple weeks several guest writers will share on topics varying from prayer to depressions. I hope you enjoy their voices and interact with them in the comments.

Today, one of my Resident Director’s from college shares her experience with depression. Please welcome, Shelley Manha.

I have struggled with depression for many years. My temperament certainly makes me vulnerable to it. The sanguine part of my temperament loves people and having fun, but the melancholy part of me tunes into the details of life with intensity and analysis. Because I experienced so many hard things in life, I grew up dwelling on all the sorrow. 

I gave my heart to Jesus at eighteen, and all He has done for me changed my life completely. Though I was saved, the healing of my wounds would take time. I was an encouraging, friendly person, but especially when circumstances were hard, I suffered from depression. It was a combination of challenging situations in the present that would trigger wounds from the past. 

Through the years, I dealt with my depression in different ways. In my late twenties, I saw a therapist for two years which was an incredibly healing experience. When I was 36 I took antidepressants for two years because I was going through a stressful season and it helped a lot. 

My mental health has come a long way since then. In my relationship with God, I have always found myself praying, "God, I know there's more." And when I was thirty-eight, He led me to a place in my walk where I had never been before. 

Long story short, like those in the first book of Acts, I too, was waiting (unknowingly) to receive the gift of the Holy Spirit that was more than what I had received when I was saved. As He led me on this path, I jumped in (or filled up as it were). And what I learned about baptism in the Spirit and being continually filled is that it's all about faith just as salvation-I believe first and then I understand.

Welcoming the Holy Spirit into my life has brought scripture alive to me. I had always read that scripture was "living and active" but didn't understand the inherent power in the Word, and in the Word coming out of my mouth and over my life until I received the seemingly forgotten part of God. 

The Holy Spirit teaches me as I read. One very helpful thing that I've learned is that my negative mindsets and toxic thinking were a result of listening to Satan who constantly spoke lies to me. I had to learn that no, my mind is not an entity unto itself isolated from the negative spiritual realm, but indeed always exposed to it. And God now shields me with the Spirit helping me to take responsibility for my thoughts and refute the lies with truth following the voice of my Shepherd who is never negative or condemning. 

And little by little, these lies are being replaced with truth. Emotions follow the lead of thoughts, so these changes in my thought life have decreased depression significantly. Just as soon as I ever think I have this path down, (and sometimes I do actually think this), God shows up to answer that prayer always rising up to chase down my pride: "God, I know there's more." And thankfully, there's always more.

Shelley Manha loves to write about what she learns. When she was young, she wrote her way through many diaries trying to make sense of confusion. Writing is therapy for her as much as it is a pleasure. She is married, has a six year old son, and lives in Southern New Hampshire. She enjoys swimming, reading, singing and gardening.