This One Is for the Ugly Days

Posted on November 4, 2016 by Elizabeth

To hear my blog post read aloud, just click the play button. If you’re reading this in an email, you may have to click here to hear the post on my site.

There are some days when it is easy to love.

I am able to surrender to the Spirit which causes peace to fill me up and overflow into the hearts of my daughters, my husband. I have the supernatural strength to stay calm in the midst of tantrums, kind in the midst of misunderstandings, and joyful in the midst of hurt.

Then there are days like today.

Days when something ugly wells up inside of me. Days when I want to be mean. Days when I feel resentful towards those I love best.

I hate these days.

What is this darkness, this nastiness that overwhelms me and threatens to spill out into the hearts of those I love?

My daughters cry to be held, fuss about wearing clothes, throw tantrums because school is hard, and my desire is not to comfort them but to scream like a crazed woman with fire in my eyes.

My husband makes an innocent comment and my desire is not to hear his loving intentions but to deliberately misunderstand and hiss a disparaging remark.

I intentionally fight against the changing of my mood. I want to savor, to wallow in my blackness.

I hate these days.

I get so tired of fighting this battle within me. I get so weary of fighting my very self. I long for the day when I finally look like Jesus, when my desire is to love rather than hate, when my heart is all light with no shadow at all.

As ugly as my heart can be, I am grateful that God refuses to give up on me. I am thankful that He does not save me and then leave me as I am. I am astounded that He is filling me up with Himself, crowding out the ugliness until there is nothing left but Beauty.

I try not to feel impatient.

Yet I know. I know. I know that I belong to Jesus. He gave Himself for me and therefore sin has lost its hold on me. I can hold on to that knowing even when I cannot feel it. Little by little, sin’s grasp is slipping away because Love has taken hold and nothing dark can hold on in the light of this fiercest Love.

As the recent hymn, In Christ Alone, says, “No power of hell, no scheme of man can ever pluck me from His hand; ‘till He returns or calls me home, here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.”

No scheme of man. Not even my own schemes. Nothing can separate me from Love Himself.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

Amen.

edited from the archives

There Are Times

Posted on July 15, 2016 by Elizabeth

I took a short break from blogging after experiencing some very difficult times related to my writing, and I’m glad to be back in my writing space. As I searched for the way to be obedient in what happened, I discovered that I don’t believe God has released me from writing here in this space, so I published a couple of essays from my archives while I prayed and thought and wrote. Here is what I wrote in the aftermath of my troubles. I pray that it will give a small bit of help to you.

To hear my blog post read aloud, just click the play button. If you’re reading this in an email, you may have to click here to hear the post on my site.

There are times when I feel desperate for God.

Times when my path forward seems dark

as the hour before dawn.

Times when the darkness seems to creep into my soul and

times when it wants to burst out of my heart and

threaten to hurt those around me.

I always know in a cerebral sense that my very being depends on God, but

there are times when I know it in a deep, carnal way.

These are the times I see clearly into my own heart and

tremble with fear for the rage I see there.

These are the times I am asked to forgive, to

turn the other cheek in a real and painful way.

These are the times I find I must return something

to God that is precious to me and find that my deepest self

wants to turn away from Him instead.

It is in these times that I fall on my face and

beg Him to surround me with Himself.

It is in these times that I lift up my eyes and

plead for Him to heal me from the inside.

It is in these times that I know with a gut-wrenching certainty that

I am, indeed, desperate for God

in all times.

I need Thee, oh, I need Thee;

Every hour I need Thee.

Oh, bless me now my Savior,

I come to Thee.

Some Days Are Just Ugly

Posted on October 23, 2015 by Elizabeth

There are some days when it is easy to love.

I am able to surrender to the Spirit which causes peace to fill me up and overflow into the hearts of my daughters, my husband. I have the supernatural strength to stay calm in the midst of tantrums, kind in the midst of misunderstandings, and joyful in the midst of hurt.

Then there are days like today.

Days when something ugly wells up inside of me. Days when I want to be mean. Days when I feel resentful towards those I love best.

I hate these days.

What is this darkness, this nastiness that overwhelms me and threatens to spill out into the hearts of those I love?

My daughters cry to be held, fuss about wearing clothes, throw tantrums because school is hard, and my desire is not to comfort them but to scream like a crazed woman with fire in my eyes.

My husband makes an innocent comment and my desire is not to hear his loving intentions but to deliberately misunderstand and hiss a disparaging remark.

I intentionally fight against the changing of my mood. I want to savor, to wallow in my blackness.

I hate these days.

I get so tired of fighting this battle within me. I get so weary of fighting my very self. I long for the day when I finally look like Jesus, when my desire is to love rather than hate, when my heart is all light with no shadow at all.

As ugly as my heart can be, I am grateful that God refuses to give up on me. I am thankful that He does not save me and then leave me as I am. I am astounded that He is filling me up with Himself, crowding out the ugliness until there is nothing left but Beauty.

I try not to feel impatient.

Yet I know. I know. I know that I belong to Jesus. He gave Himself for me and therefore sin has lost its hold on me. I can hold on to that knowing even when I cannot feel it. Little by little, sin’s grasp is slipping away because Love has taken hold and nothing dark can hold on in the light of this fiercest Love.

As the recent hymn says, “No power of hell, no scheme of man can ever pluck me from His hand; ‘till He returns or calls me home, here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.”

No scheme of man. Not even my own schemes. Nothing can separate me from Love Himself.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

Amen.

Seeking Perfection (and why that is bad)

Posted on April 17, 2015 by Elizabeth

She was being silly with her bowl and granola scattered all over the kitchen floor.

I took pride in not scattering my temper but in speaking in calm, low tones as I made her clean it up.

Not ten minutes later, my pride evaporated as I yelled in frustration over having to explain twelve divided by four yet again to her very distracted mind…

Even though I knew she had suffered a sleepless night and who can concentrate on very little sleep when you’re a supposedly mature grown-up, much less a tiny little six year old person?

I often become so frustrated with myself and my inability to love the way that I want to love. I yell and I fume, I am self-centered and harsh. I have good moments, when I am able to obey that greatest of commands, but my failings come fast and close between.

I have been on this journey of following Jesus for decades and can be hard on myself for not having improved faster. I vacillate between trying to love more fully by sheer force of will and trying to submit and let Jesus heal my heart, yet I always am impatient and I wish for Him to heal me more quickly.

Maybe, though, my progress (or lack thereof) is not the point.

David was a success story in the annals of Bible heroes. He is known as a man after God’s own heart, and God’s own Son is not ashamed to be known as the Son of David. You can’t be more successful than that.

Yet when we look at his life, we do not see perfection or even a nearing of perfection as his life moves forward. Far from it, we see instead murder and adultery, we see a warrior with an unimaginable body count to his credit, we see lying and coveting and keeping multiple wives and mistresses. In one particularly shameful moment, we see him taking back his wife Michal from her new husband Paltiel for purely political reasons and completely disregarding the pitiful Paltiel as he follows Michal, “weeping as he walked behind her”.

The story of David is not a story of what God wants us to be but a story of God working with the raw material of our lives as he finds us. ~ Eugene H. Peterson in The Jesus Way

How can a man like this be called a man after God’s heart?

The answer can only be found inside his own heart and God is gracious enough to share that with us in the Psalms.

The answer we find in the Psalms is not that he was perfect or even that he neared perfection. The answer is that he was forgiven and that he trusted that forgiveness.

The answer to my own sin and imperfections is not to try harder or to find the right training that eliminates my sin. The answer is my own confession and the forgiveness that can only come from God. No excuses, denials or justifications.

I acknowledged my sin to thee, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord”; then thou didst forgive the guilt of my sin. ~ Psalms 32.5

Resolves and promises to “not do it again” wear thin. True confession, however, rings true and brings deliverance in God’s love.

Being honest about my inability to rid my heart of sin and throwing myself wholeheartedly on His compassion and ability to cleanse me is what makes me whole and perfect in His sight, not becoming actually perfect…because that, I’m afraid, will never happen on this side of resurrection.

My lack of perfection is frustrating, but only to me.

We Eat One Another Alive

Posted on September 26, 2014 by Elizabeth

Why do we eat one another alive?

It happens all the time. Just look at what happens any time a Christian leader is found out or, worse, confesses. Just look at what happens whenever a Christian public figure says something that is outside of our comfort zone. Just look at what happens so many times when someone in our own churches does or says something we don’t agree with.

We talk, we rant, we fill up the air with our words. And our words are not of grace.

It is too easy to speak harshly within the anonymous confines of the internet. We forget at times that those on the receiving end of our arrows are as beloved as we are.

Why do we do it?

Fear, perhaps.

We fear that others will think poorly of us or of our faith if we do not speak out quickly and harshly against whatever was wrong. We fear that we will be viewed as the same if we speak words of love instead of words of condemnation.

We fear, perhaps, that we are the same deep down inside, and we do not want anyone to know the truth.

Yet the irony of it all is that the very One we are trying to defend is the same One who shared meals, shared life with those who made the most public of mistakes.

The irony is that the Bible is crammed full of one another verses…and not one of them mentions devouring one another.

Show kindness and mercy to one another.
Love one another.
Outdo one another in showing honor.
Welcome one another.
Bear with one another.
Be kind to one another.
Forgive one another.

These are just the beginning.

Jesus said that people would know that we follow Him by our love. Too often love is not what we show to the world. I confess that perhaps I would not think very highly of Jesus if all that I knew of Him was what I read on the blogs and Facebook pages of His followers.

May God help us.

May the God of love and grace teach us how to get rid of our motto of We eat one another alive.

May He instead change our hearts to adopt the motto of We never leave a fallen comrade behind.

Art Credits: Lion photo by Juliane Riedl; Christ and Samaritan Woman painting by Henryk Siemiradzki

Today

Posted on March 29, 2013 by Elizabeth

Today, our world seems darker.

Today, my heart is heavy and grieving.

Today, I acknowledge my guilt and wrap myself around my shame.

Today, I try to fully take in the magnitude of this beautiful, amazing Love.

On this day, creation mourned and the sun hid itself in grief.

On this day, Jesus chose to stay nailed down, for His heart was full of love.

On this day, Jesus took my guilt into His own body and gave up, for a time, His perfect closeness with God the Father.

On this day, God once for all proved His love for us.

On this day, He proved His Word, that He truly meant it when He said

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed,” says the LORD, who has compassion on you.

As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love.

My command is this: Love each other as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.

He loves me. He came to rescue me and to make me perfect and holy. He came to conquer death and to make me alive.

On this day, God proved through Jesus that He means to accomplish all of these things.

And yet.

Is He able?

Today, I do not yet know.

I suppose I’ll have to wait until Sunday to find out.

art credit: Sketch by Rembrandt, The Three Crosses

Deepest Need

Posted on March 15, 2013 by Elizabeth

I desperately wanted Kristina to be healed.

I long for the lost wisdom of my Papa.

I dream of a normal life for my friend, Stephanie.

There are so many stories that I, in my limited vision, would change if I had my way. What story would you change?

I am forced to look deeply at myself, however, when I read the story of friends who lowered the paralyzed down to Jesus through a hole. I hear Jesus’ first words.

Your sins are forgiven

I imagine myself as a friend.

Yes, yes. Forgiveness is good. But we cut away that barrier to You for healing. We want you to fix this. We want him to walk!

But this is Jesus. He is answering the deepest need first, and the deepest need is not to be able to walk.

It sometimes feels as though my deepest need is to be relieved of my burden.

Cancer is a heavy burden.

Rejection is a heavy burden.

Death is a heavy burden.

Yet over and over again, God’s best work happens when I am carrying my heaviest burden.

I can see this truth at work in the art that I love.

It is interesting to note how many artists have had physical problems to overcome, deformities, lameness, terrible loneliness. Could Beethoven have written that glorious paean of praise in the Ninth Symphony if he had not had to endure the dark closing in of deafness? As I look through his work chronologically, there’s no denying that it deepens and strengthens along with the deafness. Could Milton have seen all that he sees in Paradise Lost if he had not been blind? It is chastening to realize that those who have no physical flaw, who move through life in step with their peers, who are bright and beautiful, seldom become artists. The unending paradox is that we do learn through pain…Pain is not always creative; received wrongly, it can lead to alcoholism and madness and suicide. Nevertheless, without it we do not grow. ~ Madeleine L’Engle in Walking on Water

In the midst of these hard things, Jesus wants to be certain that I am still able to rest in Him. He wants me to know that He has overcome all of these burdens so that even while I am underneath my burden I can have peace.

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

The knowledge that I will have trouble is a hard truth. One that I don’t like most of the time.

A large part of me wants to clutch tightly those I love best and protect them. Yet a tiny part of me knows what is truly important.

God’s way of forgiveness and transformation is more important than relief from my heavy burden. I try to trust and let that smaller part of me grow.

I long to be who God intended for me to be. I want to grow. It seems that transformation requires hard things.

Paul, the one who was beaten and imprisoned and shipwrecked and stoned and rejected by many, calls these hard things “light and momentary troubles“.

I can’t do that yet. I cannot open my arms and embrace these burdens.

I can, however, accept them and choose to voice words of gratitude and praise to God for them, even if I don’t truly feel grateful. I can choose to allow these burdens, this pain, to help me grow rather than to drag me down into depression.

I am tempted to try to avoid not only my own suffering but also that of those around me, the suffering of the world.

Instead, I will continue to allow suffering to inspire my art, to trust that God will make all things beautiful.

Instead, I will allow pain to deepen and strengthen my life rather than to destroy it.

Instead, I will pray this grace for those around me as well.

Art credits: my thanks to Eddie Lowen, Pastor at West Side Christian Church in Springfield, Illinois, for his thoughts on this subject; The Palsied Man Let Down through the Roof by James Tissot; Illustration for Milton’s Paradise Lost by Gustave Dore

Why You Should Make Mistakes With Your Kids

Posted on August 10, 2012 by Elizabeth

Our middle daughter (can I say “middle” when the youngest is still inside my belly?) turned two years old this week.

As I watch her and her four-year-old sister growing up so incredibly quickly, I sometimes start thinking about how much of what I do, both with them and in front of them, influences who they become.

This thought almost makes me start hyperventilating. I start feeling almost physically weighed down with the pressure to do things perfectly with my children.

I was recently reminded, however, of how much God loves these girls. He loves them even more than I love them. That idea is difficult for me to wrap my mind around, considering how deep is my love for them, but it is truth.

God loves my girls more than I do, and He wants them to fall in love with Him even more than I want that to happen.

And if God wants something to happen, well…

If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but gave Him up for us all–how will He not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things? ~ Romans 8.31-32

This is, like most issues in my life, a refusal to trust, a difficulty in letting go of my pride. I have to trust God with the hearts and lives of my children and I have to realize that I am not the most important influence on them.

God is more than able to make up for my myriad of mistakes.

In fact, I am learning that it is good for me to make mistakes.

When I make mistakes with my little ones, when I mess up in front of them, I have the chance (if only I took it more consistently!) to show them how to make mistakes. I have the opportunity to teach them how to apologize, how to ask for forgiveness, how to ask God to change your heart and help you to do better.

How to do this, how to wisely use this chance, is something that is indelibly imprinted in my heart: it is the image of my dad asking me (a tiny, humble kid!) for my forgiveness. His actions taught me a beautiful lesson.

By messing up in front of my girls, I can show them that God loves them no matter what they do.

My eldest is already learning this lesson. Every night, as part of her four-year-old routine, she says, “Mommy? Did you know that God loves you even when you disobey?” And I respond “Yes, darling. Isn’t that a beautiful thing?”

This is what I want to teach my girls. That God loves them no matter what. That we can’t ever be good enough and that is why Jesus came to rescue us, why the Holy Spirit has to work in our hearts to heal them. I want them to rest secure in God’s love, enjoying His presence and loving Him right back.

I sit in awe and praise God that in His mercy and grace, He uses my mistakes, my imperfect and messed-up self, to show my girls just that.

To hear my blog post read aloud, just click the play button. If you’re reading this in an email, you may have to click here to hear the post on my site.

There are some days when it is easy to love.

I am able to surrender to the Spirit which causes peace to fill me up and overflow into the hearts of my daughters, my husband. I have the supernatural strength to stay calm in the midst of tantrums, kind in the midst of misunderstandings, and joyful in the midst of hurt.

Then there are days like today.

Days when something ugly wells up inside of me. Days when I want to be mean. Days when I feel resentful towards those I love best.

I hate these days.

What is this darkness, this nastiness that overwhelms me and threatens to spill out into the hearts of those I love?

My daughters cry to be held, fuss about wearing clothes, throw tantrums because school is hard, and my desire is not to comfort them but to scream like a crazed woman with fire in my eyes.

My husband makes an innocent comment and my desire is not to hear his loving intentions but to deliberately misunderstand and hiss a disparaging remark.

I intentionally fight against the changing of my mood. I want to savor, to wallow in my blackness.

I hate these days.

I get so tired of fighting this battle within me. I get so weary of fighting my very self. I long for the day when I finally look like Jesus, when my desire is to love rather than hate, when my heart is all light with no shadow at all.

As ugly as my heart can be, I am grateful that God refuses to give up on me. I am thankful that He does not save me and then leave me as I am. I am astounded that He is filling me up with Himself, crowding out the ugliness until there is nothing left but Beauty.

I try not to feel impatient.

As the recent hymn, In Christ Alone, says, “No power of hell, no scheme of man can ever pluck me from His hand; ‘till He returns or calls me home, here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.”

No scheme of man. Not even my own schemes. Nothing can separate me from Love Himself.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

Amen.

To hear my blog post read aloud, just click the play button. If you’re reading this in an email, you may have to click here to hear the post on my site.

There are times when I feel desperate for God.

Times when my path forward seems dark

as the hour before dawn.

Times when the darkness seems to creep into my soul and

times when it wants to burst out of my heart and

threaten to hurt those around me.

I always know in a cerebral sense that my very being depends on God, but

there are times when I know it in a deep, carnal way.

These are the times I see clearly into my own heart and

tremble with fear for the rage I see there.

These are the times I am asked to forgive, to

turn the other cheek in a real and painful way.

These are the times I find I must return something

to God that is precious to me and find that my deepest self

wants to turn away from Him instead.

It is in these times that I fall on my face and

beg Him to surround me with Himself.

It is in these times that I lift up my eyes and

plead for Him to heal me from the inside.

It is in these times that I know with a gut-wrenching certainty that

I am, indeed, desperate for God

in all times.

I need Thee, oh, I need Thee;

Every hour I need Thee.

Oh, bless me now my Savior,

I come to Thee.

There are some days when it is easy to love.

I am able to surrender to the Spirit which causes peace to fill me up and overflow into the hearts of my daughters, my husband. I have the supernatural strength to stay calm in the midst of tantrums, kind in the midst of misunderstandings, and joyful in the midst of hurt.

Then there are days like today.

Days when something ugly wells up inside of me. Days when I want to be mean. Days when I feel resentful towards those I love best.

I hate these days.

What is this darkness, this nastiness that overwhelms me and threatens to spill out into the hearts of those I love?

My daughters cry to be held, fuss about wearing clothes, throw tantrums because school is hard, and my desire is not to comfort them but to scream like a crazed woman with fire in my eyes.

My husband makes an innocent comment and my desire is not to hear his loving intentions but to deliberately misunderstand and hiss a disparaging remark.

I intentionally fight against the changing of my mood. I want to savor, to wallow in my blackness.

I hate these days.

I get so tired of fighting this battle within me. I get so weary of fighting my very self. I long for the day when I finally look like Jesus, when my desire is to love rather than hate, when my heart is all light with no shadow at all.

As ugly as my heart can be, I am grateful that God refuses to give up on me. I am thankful that He does not save me and then leave me as I am. I am astounded that He is filling me up with Himself, crowding out the ugliness until there is nothing left but Beauty.

I try not to feel impatient.

As the recent hymn says, “No power of hell, no scheme of man can ever pluck me from His hand; ‘till He returns or calls me home, here in the power of Christ I’ll stand.”

No scheme of man. Not even my own schemes. Nothing can separate me from Love Himself.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end;

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

Amen.

She was being silly with her bowl and granola scattered all over the kitchen floor.

I took pride in not scattering my temper but in speaking in calm, low tones as I made her clean it up.

Not ten minutes later, my pride evaporated as I yelled in frustration over having to explain twelve divided by four yet again to her very distracted mind…

Even though I knew she had suffered a sleepless night and who can concentrate on very little sleep when you’re a supposedly mature grown-up, much less a tiny little six year old person?

I often become so frustrated with myself and my inability to love the way that I want to love. I yell and I fume, I am self-centered and harsh. I have good moments, when I am able to obey that greatest of commands, but my failings come fast and close between.

Maybe, though, my progress (or lack thereof) is not the point.

David was a success story in the annals of Bible heroes. He is known as a man after God’s own heart, and God’s own Son is not ashamed to be known as the Son of David. You can’t be more successful than that.

The story of David is not a story of what God wants us to be but a story of God working with the raw material of our lives as he finds us. ~ Eugene H. Peterson in The Jesus Way

How can a man like this be called a man after God’s heart?

The answer can only be found inside his own heart and God is gracious enough to share that with us in the Psalms.

The answer we find in the Psalms is not that he was perfect or even that he neared perfection. The answer is that he was forgiven and that he trusted that forgiveness.

The answer to my own sin and imperfections is not to try harder or to find the right training that eliminates my sin. The answer is my own confession and the forgiveness that can only come from God. No excuses, denials or justifications.

I acknowledged my sin to thee, and I did not hide my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord”; then thou didst forgive the guilt of my sin. ~ Psalms 32.5

Resolves and promises to “not do it again” wear thin. True confession, however, rings true and brings deliverance in God’s love.

Show kindness and mercy to one another.
Love one another.
Outdo one another in showing honor.
Welcome one another.
Bear with one another.
Be kind to one another.
Forgive one another.