Monday, July 9, 2012

Fear Keeps Us From Healing

I have seen his ways, but I will heal him; I will guide him and restore comfort to him. -- Isaiah 57:18

If you could have anything you want, what would it be? Millions of dollars in the bank? The home of your dreams? Fame and fortune? Good health? Respect? A happy marriage and children?

Everybody has a different answer. Some people will tell you what they think you want to hear. Others will reach for the moon. Some will seek what they think will change them. If I could have anything I want, I’d want to feel safe again.

I don’t expect that to happen so long as I inhabit this earth. It might. But it would be an unexpected delight and not a realized dream. I’m not alone. Because while some people grow up feeling loved and secure, many others grow up cowering in fear.

I listened to a wonderful speaker earlier today who said that about one-third of us were sexually abused as children. She didn’t give any source for that statistic but somehow I didn’t doubt it either. And that didn’t include those who were physically or verbally abused. Some among us could check all of the above.

We are a broken people. A sinful people. A people filled with pain and longing and a desperate need for healing. A healing that only God can provide.

Except that we’re so afraid of rejection, of revealing our secrets, of facing our guilt, that we keep all that pain bottled up inside us where it festers and grows. Because who could possibly understand? People don’t want to face the dirtiness of our lives. And we sure don’t want to be criticized and condemned yet again.

How can we ever heal if we don’t lay down our burdens before Christ? How can we ever learn to walk as whole, loved, cherished people if we don’t understand that the cross is all about us? Jesus’ blood washed us white so that none of those childhood stains remain.

But first we have to let them go. All those things we’re afraid of. All those silent hurts. All those things we never should have had to endure in the first place. We have to lay them at the foot of the cross, then get up and walk away.

Just the thought of it brings up that fear again. We know about fear. We’ve learned how to silence the pain through denial, drugs or alcohol, acting out. You name it, and at least one of us has tried it. And failed at it. Because that pain we keep trying to hide just keeps rearing it’s ugliness again and again.

The only real solution is giving it to God. Today. Tonight. Tomorrow morning at first light. Handing it over again and again until one day it doesn’t hurt so bad and we’re not so afraid anymore. And then we realize He is restoring us, loving us, comforting us, so that we can be made whole and complete in Him.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Some Church Goers Are Lost

"You have made your bed on a high and lofty hill; there you went up to offer your sacrifices. Behind your doors and your doorposts you have put your pagan symbols;" -- Isaiah 57:7-8a

When I was a young person, I remember looking at numerous Christians in disgust. Yeah. I know. Shocking. It's also true. I wasn't a church goer. I wanted to be. And I even knew a few really good Christians. My Gran and my Aunt Murl stand front and center in that memory. But I also knew many Sunday morning Christians. You know the kind. They put on a good show for the pastor and everyone else on Sunday mornings and then come Monday they're back to doing as they please until the next Sunday morning rolls around.

Eventually, the Holy Spirit got hold of me and convinced me that church was a good thing. I went away to college and was baptized in an awesome church. The people there welcomed the college students with open arms. The church was so packed they had to set up folding chairs in the aisles every Sunday morning. And, you know, I never heard one person talk about what a financial burden we all must have been. They just loved us. So we told our friends and they told theirs and, well, people just kept coming to that wonderful church.

It still bothers me sometimes when I see people show up for church and act so self-righteous. We're all sinners. I don't want anyone to think I'm suggesting that folks stay away until they get it together. None of us would ever go to church if that were the case. No, I just get upset when people pretend to be better than they are and better than the rest of us. Cause it just isn't so.

I wonder if they believe that coming to church on Sunday makes them Christians? Maybe they don't care. I don't know. I just look around and see so many wonderful Christians reaching out, stumbling, getting up again, helping someone else, falling down, moving forward -- and on and on. We're all trying and sometimes failing but our hearts are determined to follow Jesus. I don't see that in some people at church. Does anyone else understand what I'm saying?

I believe we're called to share the gospel with the lost. I believe we're supposed to help the poor and lonely and less fortunate. But I also believe we need to look around us and see the person next to us at church. We shouldn't assume that he's a Christian just because he looks right at home.

God knows our hearts. He knows those who love Him and honor Him with actions and words. He also knows those who say all the right things, then turn aside because their hearts were never committed to serving Jesus. Those people are just as lost as those who have never heard the story of Christ's sacrifice for our sins. We need to tell them. Jesus meant His sacrifice to be for them too.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

Make Life Matter

"Those who walk uprightly enter into peace; they find rest as they lie in death."

-- Isaiah 57:2

We never know when death will come. We are living our lives, having our day, arranging our tasks and then....gone. Our days on earth are done.

Sunday a young woman I once knew died in a house fire. Young. Well, younger than me. Especially in spirit. She sparkled when she laughed. She was smart and funny and filled with life. She had such a sense of style. She could wear anything and look like she'd just stepped out of a fashion magazine.

At least, that's how I remember her. We lost touch after she moved a few years ago. It happens. People get busy. Lives change. Funny, she'd been on my mind lately. Now I know why.

My heart breaks for her teenage daughter. Her parents weren't supposed to bury their child. Her brother and sister weren't ready for this loss. They couldn't be because nothing prepares a person for the sudden death of someone you love. I know a thing or two about that.

I find comfort in knowing that she knew Jesus and truly loved Him as Lord and Savior. I know she's in heaven, laughing and enjoying the flowers. It's the ones she left behind that will suffer. They are the ones who need prayers and strength for the days yet to come.

This tragedy is yet another reminder to all of us to live our lives fully, focusing more on people and less on possessions. We really don't know which day, which hour, which minute is our last. Make it worthwhile.