God Without Limits--Changing My Perspective

We've all heard the advice in so many different ways:

• Walk a mile in her shoes
• Look at the problem from a different point of view
• Try to put yourself in their position

It's all about perspective. 

Each of us has a window through which we look at the world around us, and every person's window is distorted in some way.  Maybe the glass is "rosy-colored"; perhaps it is tinted grey by hurt and pain; and if we've shut ourselves off from the people around us, it may even be completely opaque.  Our window on the world is shaped by our experiences--both good and bad--and that window is how we see the people around us.  It affects our interactions with everyone, from our closest friend to the grocery clerk.  It even affects our view of God.

This is why Jesus admonishes us against judging one another in Luke 6:37-38:

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged.  Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned.  Forgive, and you will be forgiven.  Give, and it will be given to you.  A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap.  For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you."  

Our judgements of one another can never be balanced and can never be fair.  Our condemnation of others will be based on our own hurts and grievances.   Eventually, that condemnation morphs into a hardened heart--a heart that cannot forgive.  Refusing to forgive someone changes our focus.  All of the hurt and the anger are held close to our heart, where it can do the most damage.  And the worst damage inflicted is that, in time, we will come to view God's ability to forgive just like ours, and we will believe that He cannot forgive us for what we have done to Him.  Paul understood this and counseled the Church at Ephesus to avoid this trap in his letter to them:

"Be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you." (Eph 4:32 NLT)

That's the beautiful thing about forgiveness--it changes things--it changes us!  While it's true that our "window" can affect the way we see forgiveness, forgiveness can also change our "window".    

Forgiveness can give each of us a new perspective on our past, our present, and our future.  When I let go of the anger and pain I have carried,  I can look back and see that the people who hurt me unintentionally don't deserve to be punished forever, and the people who hurt me intentionally don't deserve to continue to have that kind of power over me!  As Ann Landers once wrote

“Hanging onto resentment is letting someone you despise live rent-free in your head.”

That's what Satan is trying to do and we are foolish if we let him continue to whisper into our ears his lie that we "deserve" to be angry for the ways we have been hurt.  We deserve to move beyond anger and into healing.  And that healing will ONLY come through forgiveness. 

Yes, I know that some wrongs are so heinous that forgiveness is difficult.  And, yes, I know that some people are physically, emotionally, and spiritually dangerous for us to have contact with.  I'm not advocating letting someone dangerous back into our lives.  I'm advocating getting them out of our lives, once and for all, by forgiving the wrong and letting go of the anger.  Because, as long as the anger lives in your heart and mine--they are still in our lives, creating the window we see everything through.

These are the limits God is trying to set us free from; this is the perspective He wants so desperately to change for us.  He suffered and died for every person in this world.  For the people who have hurt you and the people who have hurt me.  He wants to save them and restore them to a full and loving relationship with Him.  God knows that when we grasp that fact, we will never again doubt His ability to love us and forgive us fully.  Our judgement, our anger, and our refusal to forgive aren't hurting the person we are focusing these emotions and choices on.  As long as we hold tight to that garbage pail of lies, we will never be able to reach up for what we need most of all--hope and forgiveness for OUR sins and the unfathomable love of God.

In the Valley of Sheep

One of my favorite characters in the Bible is David.  His life reads like a Hollywood movie, but that's not what I love about David.  I love his humility and his willingness to learn; I love his simple beginnings and his passion for his friends and family; I love his poetry and his confessions.  This man loved God with all of his heart, but he still made huge, very human, mistakes.  It's easy to be drawn in by the stories of his battle exploits and the grandeur of his kingship, but I've always loved the story of the shepherd boy.

Take a moment a consider David's beginnings.  He comes from a small town; the youngest of Jesse's eight sons.  According to I Samuel chapter 16, his brothers were of impressive stature and physically attractive.  Samuel couldn't believe that, one after another, God was passing them up to be the next King of Israel.  When you think about it, David must have felt pretty insignificant in this family--his father didn't even consider bringing him in from the fields to meet with Samuel!  But, God changed everything.  He usually does.

David's role as giant-slayer and future King did not just happen to him, though.  God saw David's potential from his childhood--and God shaped David into a man of God through many small events before we ever meet him.  What we need to understand is that God didn't put David into the court of Saul to groom him for the throne.  God put David in a pasture; in the valley with the sheep; in the perfect place to learn diligence, perseverance, gentleness, patience, and faith.  Sheep are not great conversationalists, and I'm sure David had plenty of time to think and pray and draw close the the Spirit of God as He met David right where he was.  In that pasture.  Sheep are not that bright, and caring for them gave David plenty of opportunity to learn patience and gentleness as he tended to their needs.  Sheep require a lot of attention--they must be led to good grazing land and they are prime targets for predators.  Caring for them developed perseverance and initiative in this hard working young man.  David also learned how to defend and protect them and, I believe, developed the "faith muscles" needed to call on God in times of both danger and boredom.

The time in the valley of sheep was necessary to build and grow the character David would need for the months and years and decades to come.   He would need this faith to face Goliath.  He would need this gentleness to develop a friendship with Jonathon and to soothe Saul with his music.  He would need this patience and perseverance to survive the years he was chased by Saul. He would need all of this to be the King God had chosen him to be.

David's encounter with Goliath is often seen as an epic story of the the little guy defeating the big guy--but, it couldn't be further from that.  It is the story of a little guy with a big God defeating a big guy who was his own god. 

That's where you and I come in; where we take from David's story the most important lesson of all.  No job is too small.  No place God has placed you is insignificant.  No relationship is unimportant.

It's not about us.  It's about God.  Everything.  Everything I do, I must do as though I do it for the Lord.  That's what David did as he tended sheep, and that's what I must do as I care for my family, my friends, my patients, my co-workers.  My life is not about me, me, me.  It's about God.

So, in my own valley of sheep, I must choose to wait patiently for the next opportunity God gives me to learn.  I need to learn the same diligence, perseverance, gentleness, patience, and faith that David had to learn.  Not because God plans on making me royalty, but because I already am.

I am a daughter of the One True King of Heaven and Earth. 

The Truth About Pity Parties

I'm about 6 weeks into my adventure with learning to crave God, instead of food, and to turn to Him with the stressors that I have used to justify bad food and activity choices.  When I saw that one of the Blog Hop topics for this week was "Pity Party Central", I just skimmed right past it.  I'm really not much for that kind of "celebration" and, I thought to myself, "I'm cruising along pretty well right now. When it comes to food and exercise, that just isn't me."  My eyes were drawn to the topic of "Truth" and the question of what truth I am believing and living by.  I knew exactly what I wanted to write about. . . .but I just couldn't seem to get motivated to sit down and write.  I realize now that this may have been a bit of divine intervention, as I had a lesson to learn this week about pity parties.

This week marked the second Snowmageddon in South Carolina in about 3 weeks.  I made it to work Monday and Tuesday, but was literally stuck at home for Wednesday and Thursday.  I was pretty aggravated with the notion of using more vacation time for no good reason, but tried to really relax and enjoy the time off.  Believe me, there have been plenty of other two-day intervals that were much more miserable than these two days were!  We had plenty of food, the electricity never even flickered, and I spent my time with my favorite four people in the world.  I read books, studied, cruised on Facebook, watched the Olympics and drank extra coffee--they were truly good days.

The pity party invitations went out on Thursday evening, when the "Closings & Cancellations" for Friday began to scroll along the bottom of the TV screen during the coverage of the Olympic Games.  I already knew I would need to report to work at 10:00am on Friday--a delay of 90 minutes to give the icy roads time to melt a bit--and I would need to stay at least 90 minutes beyond our usual 1:00pm quitting time.  Initially, I had greeted this news with happiness, as I was relieved to be able to make up some of the time lost the two previous days.  First it was my daughter's college--CLOSED on Friday.  Then it was my husband's employer--CLOSED on Friday.  Finally, it was my son's college--CLOSED on Friday. 

I was the only one in the house who had to get up in the morning and be somewhere.

I tried to focus on the fact that I could still sleep in a little bit, but it wasn't working.  The pity party preparations began in earnest now.

But then it occurred to me that Friday had to be a good day--it just HAD to be.  Friday was Valentine's Day.  My favorite holiday of the whole year, a fact my husband has learned well over our three decades together.   Why do I love this "manufactured" holiday so much, you ask?  Honestly--because it is the only holiday of the year in which I am not responsible for all of the work generated.  I don't have to plan and cook the meal.  I don't have to buy all of the gifts.  I don't have to consider invitations and planning and awkward family situations.  Yes, my love for this holiday is based purely on selfishness--but, at least I am honest about it!  I went to bed with hope that my favorite holiday would wipe away the pity brewing in my heart.

It was a morning like any other morning.  I slept a bit extra and enjoyed a hot shower.  I had a nice rich cup of coffee and my favorite breakfast.  Dave woke up and joined me in the living room and said. . .

"Good Morning"

That was it.  Just before I left for work, he did wish me a Happy Valentine's Day and gave me a hug and a kiss. 

I already knew he wasn't getting me a card--he had warned me that the snowstorm had interrupted his plans and he hadn't been able to get that done.  I wasn't expecting any Godiva's Truffles to be perched by my coffee cup--I had told him "no candy this year", due to my success with cutting sugar out of my diet.

I was, however, expecting him to come out and wish me a Happy Valentine's Day.  Yep--definitely going to have that pity party.

I arrived at the office and dug into the work I had to do.  My assignment was OB Call--returning the phone calls for all of our OB patients, answering their questions, helping them with problems that had come up, and working them in, as needed, for appointments.  Some days OB Call is great.  Some days it is the worst assignment of all.  In truth, today was very easy and I had little to complain about, but in my heart there was only pity brewing.  We would have to work through lunch, but then we received the news that one of our vendors was supplying our lunch for free!  They were bringing pizza--and I can't eat pizza right now, because it is not on my healthy eating plan.  No pizza for Sandi.

At this point, the pity party was in full swing, with somber music and grey ugly colors everywhere.  There was nothing tasty at this pity party.  It wouldn't have mattered if there was--I couldn't eat it anyway.

By about noon, I was starting to give up on the possibility of getting any flowers for Valentine's Day, too.  I love cut flowers so very much and I had shared this fact with Dave many times in the past year.  (It had been a few years since he had given me any, and I've learned that subtle hinting is not effective.)   Given that candy was out of the question for this year, I was really hoping for flowers.  12:15, and still no flowers.  I called Dave at home, to see how things were going there--he was preoccupied with a repair issue at home, so we chatted briefly and then hung up.

This was turning into the Olympics version of a Pity Party.

That's about the point where the roses arrived.  18 of them.  Various shades of pink and red.  So very fragrant and lovely.  The card attached was very short and to the point.  "1111" and "1234" followed by the words "I love you".  Those numbers are a kind of private code between us--nothing fancy, just times we see on the clock and think of each other.  If he looks at his cell phone and sees it is 12:34, he will send me a text message with those numbers.  That's all I need to see to be reminded that I am on his mind during the day.

Suddenly, the pity party was over.  The depressing thoughts were thrown out and the misery was kicked to the curb.  I realized that this wasn't about Dave or Valentine's Day or OB Call or being the only one in the family who had to go to work.  It was about pizza--and Godiva Truffles and Krispy Kreme doughnuts and candy hearts.  It was about not being able to medicate my frustrations with food.  It was the first time I had come face to face with how I had used food to dull the irritations in my life and how miserable I was when I couldn't have my "medication". 

The Truth is that I am learning just how much I don't need that medication.  The Truth is that I am made for more than empty calories and empty promises to myself to "do better next time".  The Truth is summed up in a small text from Deuteronomy 2:3 that says, "You have circled this mountain long enough.  Now turn North."  God's people had been wandering in the desert for 40 years because they needed to learn how to crave God instead of the life they had led in Egypt.  They had to learn to be satisfied with His manna, His provision, and His plan for them.  And then, they had to change direction.  Turn North. 

I have circled the mountain of rotten choices long enough and I have turned in a different direction.  I needed a reminder of that today, so that I could check my compass and make sure it was pointed North. 

Breaking Through Denial

Denial.  I know how to do it, but I didn't really think about what the word means.  The Free Dictionary defines denial as: 

A refusal to grant the truth of a statement or allegation; a contradiction.

Refusing the truth.  Contradicting the truth.  I might add--opposing the truth.  Truth is present and denial either ignores it (passive) or contradicts it (active).  Either way, the truth is not acknowledged.  I do, however, find that passively dealing with truth is much easier than actively dealing with it!  What do I do when I learn something new?  How do I process it and proceed with it?  New truth demands some sort of response--even ignoring truth is a response.

Ignoring the truth has pretty much been my pattern, when it comes to my weight, for most of my life.  My weight has been a monkey on my back since I was about 14 years old.  I have hated it, at times, and I have battled it, at other times, but I have always been aware of it.  I have laughed at my inability to do even a single pull-up.  I have embraced the "you only live once" mantra to excuse excess.  I have cried when I stepped on the scale--and then made the same poor choices all day long.  I have excused excessive eating with everything from "it's the holidays", and "she made this especially for me", to "I had a terrible day--I deserve this". 

The truth is that I don't deserve it.  I deserve better than lousy excuses.  I deserve more than failed attempts.  I deserve to live out the last half of my life with enthusiasm of mind and body and obedience to the voice of God.  

For the last 18 months, as I struggled with some health issues, I became aware of some changes I did not like.  My weight was creeping up (again!) and so was my blood pressure.  I have never had even slightly elevated blood pressure before, so I knew it was time to face these issues head-on.  I'm a nurse and I talk to people about this problem almost every day--I know the truth about how this happens and I speak this truth to my patients.  How could I ignore it in my own life?  

My truth is that my increasing caffeine intake and my increasing weight were creating my increasing blood pressure.  Bottom line; plain and simple; cause and effect--the truth.  If increasing was the problem, then decreasing had to be the answer.  The third day that I took my blood pressure and it was in the high 80s, I made the first change.  I dropped my caffeine intake to one cup of coffee per day and only rarely (2-3 times per week) allowed another beverage with caffeine in it.  The effect was immediate, but the cure was annoying!  I love coffee and it has been hard to remember to order decaf the rest of the day--but it has worked.

Making that small change woke me up.  I began asking myself just how many other changes might be needed and what kind of improvements I might see with just a few "tweaks" here and there.  But, none of these tweaks worked.  I could make a change here and there, but I would soon find another excuse to break my promise to myself.  

Compromise--that's what a broken promise is and that's what I came face to face with at the end of 2013.  I was on the verge of compromising on the restrictions I had placed on myself with my caffeine intake and I was just watching the numbers on the scale go up and up!  My frustration was driving me to eat more and the vicious cycle of "promise--compromise--defeat" was wearing at my soul.  In the midst of this season of discouragement, I read this:

"God made us capable of craving so we'd have an unquenchable desire for more of Him, and Him alone.  Nothing changes until we make the choice to redirect our misguided craving to the ony one capable of satisfying them."  --Lysa TerKeurst, Made to Crave pg. 16

Craving wasn't the problem.  Craving was the answer.  My cravings were designed by God to draw me closer to Him.  The problem was that I was trying to fill a God-sized hole in my soul with pizza and cinnamon rolls and coffee and pie.  There was nothing necessarily wrong with what I was eating--the problem was with how I was using these things to medicate the discouragement, anxiety, and stress in my life.   There was no moderation in my life, because I was using food as a drug. 

And then God pointed me to a bit of scripture that gave me direction.  Deuteronomy 2:3 says, "You have circled this mountain long enough.  Now turn north."  I realize this is specifically talking about the journey of the Israelites through the desert before they were allowed to enter the Promised Land, but it is also speaking to me.  Why were they wandering when the destination was known to them?  They were wandering because of disobedience--they had defied the leadership of God, and the testimony of Caleb and Joshua, and now they were circling the same mountains again and again--going nowhere. 

It was like a gong sounded in my head.  "That's what I'm doing.  I'm circling the mountain of my disobedience again and again."  I knew it was time to head north.  It was time to make a choice and to follow that choice with determination through the power of God.  If God made me to crave Him then I knew He would supply the power to change my cravings.  I could no longer deny what I knew to be true and I could no longer compromise. 

Breaking the grip of sugar was going to be my greatest challenge.  It meant no dessert, no sweet hot beverages, no chocolate.  How would I ever do this?  The answer was in the text from Deuteronomy, which I have repeated to myself over and over again--

I have circled this mountain long enough.  It's time to turn north.

I have made that turn and found that all the strength I needed was right there waiting for me. When I was denying the truth, I was also denying all the power of God that was available to me.  I have turned north and I am heading in the direction God is leading me.  No more circling the mountain of denial for me.

Enough is Enough

When I first read the material for my Bible study this week, the word ENOUGH jumped out at me.  My first thought was of something my Mom used to say to me and my siblings when we were much younger and being quite disobedient, "I told you I had enough of that behavior, and enough is enough!"  I learned pretty quickly that this exclamation was a precursor to discipline; if things had progressed this far my Mom's capacity for our misbehavior was completely full!

As I thought back to those days, I realized it was a perfect way to understand the word "enough" and how it applied to my relationship with God.  I looked up some dictionary definitions of the word enough and found these: 

"Sufficient to meet a need or satisfy a desire"

 "Equal to what is needed"

 "An adequate number or quantity"

My mother was completely saturated with our bad behavior--she did not need to experience any more of it--her cup was full!  That is exactly the kind of fullness we are promised when we are told "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." (2Cor 12:9) or "My God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus." (Phil 4:19) These verses assure us that God is enough; we can even plug His name into the definitions above and see that it reads just like these texts:

My God is sufficient to meet my needs or satisfy my desires

My God is equal to what I need

My God is an adequate amount or quantity

I know some people might argue that the last definition of God as enough seems kind of lame, but I would disagree.  God IS an adequate amount or quantity.  He is the perfect fit--never more or less than what we need.  Yes, His love overflows in our lives but He is never intrusive or obnoxious or "in your face" about anything--He is always exactly what is needed.  

When we think of God that way, we realize that "Enough is Enough" is the perfect description of God's presence in our lives.  Whether He is providing wisdom for the difficult choices, strength for the impossible tasks, or peace for the unbearable storms, He is always exactly what is needed.  

"Enough is Enough" also brought to mind what God called Himself as He met Moses in the desert at the burning bush.  "I AM that I AM"  I've always loved this name of God because it really captures the essence of God in these few short words.  God is God; He is everything.  Because of that, God is always Enough.

I Am Not A Barbie Doll

Comparisons have been a struggle for me since the day my sister was born.  But, it didn't stop there--with each new sibling (there are four of us) another competitor entered the ring.  Just as my youngest sister arrived, I entered Kindergarten and found out there were a lot of kids all trying to get the attention of one teacher!  They all needed hugs and encouragement, and so I learned more about sharing both toys and affection.  I think that's how the trap of comparison begins.  The lesson that it's "not all about me" is an important one, but somehow it is so easily distorted into a message that we will never be as good as the others around us.  At least that's how it is for many of the women I know. 

We compare our appearance, our education, our children, and our spouses.  We compare our recipes at church potluck dinners and the decor in our homes.  In nearly every woman's mind is a small voice asking

"Why can't I cook like she does?"

"Why are my children the only ones acting up?"

"How does she get her hair to do that?"

"When will I get my act together and get my house decorated like hers?"

"Why did she get credit for her project, but I didn't get any for mine?"

 The devil has used this issue to harass and discourage me for as long as I can remember and I have followed him down that rabbit hole more times than I would care to admit. At what point did I stop listening to God's message of love and encouragement and begin hearing nothing but the voice of the enemy whispering messages of discouragement?  How did I let myself become so deceived about what God really asks of me?

I blame adolescence.  Hormones, high school, and home problems.  That's the point where I stopped listening to the loving encouragement of my family about my true identity and started taking a serious look at the other females around me and how much better they were than me at just about everything.  It makes me laugh to look back at it now, because I realize that most of them were looking around thinking the same things.  We were all awash in the sea of adolescent anxiety, with its 50 foot waves of hormones, and rational thought was swamped!  Surrounded by that intense experience of not measuring up, many of us began using the same defense mechanism--putting the others down through criticism and gossip in order to make ourselves feel better. 

If those kinds of choices ended with high school, it probably wouldn't be so bad, but often that way of coping with comparison goes on for decades, ruining friendships and leading to superficial relationships in every area of life.  Comparison becomes a way of life; a slow spiral downward of negativity and discouragement.

This is not the life God chooses for me, as His daughter.  He speaks to me in the same voice he used with the Woman at the Well (John, Chapter Four), the Woman caught in Adultery (John, Chapter Eight), and Martha (Luke, Chapter 10).  He offers encouragement based on truth.  He doesn't condemn my mistakes; He encourages me to acknowledge them and then move past them.  I can stop falling into the comparison trap when looking at the women around me.  I can see each of us as who we really are.  I am not a Barbie doll--perfect in a superficial, manufactured kind of way.  I am His--and that is enough. That is the truth about who I am--I am chosen and I am loved; I am forgiven and I am redeemed. 

Getting my Good Enough From God

I recently participated in a group discussion on Facebook among women who are studying together the book "A Confident Heart" by Renee Swope.  Many of the topics we discussed were light-hearted and and revolved around our preparations for the upcoming Holiday Season.  There was one question, however, that unified the group in an way I did not expect.

The question:  "What doubt do you want to turn away from?"

The answers:  Almost every answer revolved around the statement "That I am not good enough".

I'm not a good enough mother.  I'm not a good enough wife.  I'm not a good enough daughter.  The list moved on from there. . .I'm not good enough at my job or in my church position.  My words aren't good enough; I'm a terrible cook or housekeeper.  I'm not a good enough neighbor. 

That's a lot of doubt my friends!  Every single comment contained some aspect of the "good enough" issue!  As I read them, my heart ached for all of us.  This was a group of godly women brought together in fellowship and caring and our number one doubt concerned being "good enough" for everyone around us. 

Frankly, I was surprised that so many were willing to share this burden.  I knew I felt that way, and I knew a few others struggled with this issue, but I thought we were in the minority.  I look around at work and at church and in the mall and I see a lot of women who seem to have things pretty well in hand.  They appear confident and happy.  They couldn't possibly feel as overwhelmed and unworthy as I do, at times.

I guess the key is that word appear.  It's all on the outside--the confidence; the calm exterior.  It's like piece of wrapping paper that we put around ourselves as a protective armor, thinking that if the package is wrapped up nicely no one will see the doubt and discouragement lurking beneath.  But, wrapping paper makes terrible armor!  It gets worn and it tears and soon some of what is hiding becomes visible.  We can get so busy re-wrapping ourselves, trying to hide what we don't want others to see, that we never address the real problem.

We aren't good enough.  There isn't enough wrapping paper in the world to keep our unworthiness hidden. 

We need to get our good enough from God.  We need the sacrifice of Christ to cover our crimson sins and make us as white as snow.  We need His love to infuse our thoughts and our words and our actions.  We need to put on God's armor--His belt of truth, breastplate of righteousness, shield of faith, helmet of salvation, and sword of the Spirit (Ephesians 6:13-17).  God's armor will never wear and tear and lay us bare to condemnation.

And we need to remember one more thing--"We do not have a High Priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are--yet was without sin.  Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."  (Hebrews 4:15-17) 

I'm pretty sure that means that God has my back. He knows about every doubt, every time I make a mistake or hurt someone I love, every hidden sin, and every word of discouragement that Satan is speaking into my heart.  The writer of Hebrews assures me that God does know my pain; He sees my tears and hears the unspoken doubts in my heart.  Jesus can sympathize with every bit of the ugly I experience because He came and lived in this ugly world and He hurt, too.  He endured all of that for me, so that I could come to Him and lay all of my burdens at His feet and surrender my pain and doubt to Him.  I can tell Him that I hurt and that nothing I do seems to be good enough, and He will hold me close and look me in the eyes and tell me the truth. . . .

God is my good enough.