The Song We Begin With--My Story

Every girl’s story begins with her mom. She teaches you so much about life and how to live it. My mom taught me how to speak my first words and how to play with others; how to dress appropriately, how to cross my legs like a lady, how to cook, and how to fold fitted sheets. She taught me to sing and to love good music. She taught me how to be strong, and that it’s OK to cry when you don’t feel strong anymore. She taught me to love Jesus, read my Bible, and to be active at my church. In fact—because my Dad rejected church when I was very young—everything I understood about God, when I was a child, was learned from my mom. . . and then from my church. 

My spiritual wires got crossed somewhere along the way, and I began to see God as demanding, and my relationship with Him became performance based—based on fear of failure. I became acutely aware of my flaws, my temptations, and my mistakes. “Jesus loves me, this I know” became distorted into “Jesus (only) loves good little girls”—and I really struggled with being good. I mean, REALLY struggled!  

Every opinion I had about myself became grounded in worries about being good enough. Bible lessons about obedience became a spiritual earworm** that tormented me; a song stuck in my head that I could not resist and could never finish. I knew I was not always a “good little girl”. Some days I wasn’t good at all. Eventually, I began to wonder if there was even any point in trying to be good.

All of my spiritual struggles stood in sharp contrast to my sister, for whom being good just seemed to come naturally. She didn’t swear, or hit our little brother, or talk in the sassy tone that was my specialty. She loved to be in the kitchen helping our mom; I hated it. She was so good that it was clear (to my young brain and immature emotions) that she didn’t deal with the same temptations, and certainly didn’t make the same mistakes! To illustrate:  On ONE occasion, she uttered a curse word in my presence and I used that as blackmail over her for at least 3 years—“What would Mommy think if she knew you talked like that?” Yep, in the arena of being good enough to win Jesus’ love, I was clearly out-classed. She made it look easy.

There was, however, one area where I could excel. School. I still love school today—and long to return to college—because I know that is my place to shine. 

In school. . .

I could raise my hand and know the answer.

I could get the perfect test score.

I could be better than good enough.

I could be the best at something.

Yes, I was THAT student. The one you hated in school. But, oh were my parents proud!  They encouraged me, and when my grades faltered on a couple of tests, they asked if I’d really done my best. The lesson I internalized was that, if it wasn’t an “A” grade, it must not have been my best. I embraced the belief that, if I didn’t get that “A”, I was less of a person—less than I could be. Not living up to my potential. And so, I worked harder.

My report cards were decorated with “A” grades, but no grade can fill a heart that doesn’t feel good enough.  I know this is true, because none of mine did. There was this Jesus-shaped hole in my soul, and I was trying to fill it with straight “A” report cards and Honor Roll membership. Eventually, I would try to fill it with food, intimacy, and even being a “perfect” mother.

In time, I would learn that none of these things, and none of my relationships, could fill the place reserved for God.

And no one could teach me the song He wanted me to sing; one I wouldn’t mind having stuck in my head.

Jesus Loves Me, this I know.

**Earworm:  According to Wikipedia, an earworm is a catchy piece of music that continually repeats through a person's mind after it is no longer playing.

Mockingbird

I can remember the day I first became fascinated with mockingbirds. I’d seen them around my house in South Carolina for over a decade. I’d just never paid much attention to them because, honestly, they’re kind of plain. I love bird-watching; I learned to appreciate the beauty of birds from my mother-in-law. There was simply nothing intriguing to me about mockingbirds—they aren’t brilliantly colored and they have no interesting markings. 

The problem was that I was too busy looking at birds and hadn’t taken the time to really listen to them.

In the summer of 2013, I was enjoying a beautiful evening in Pennsylvania, sitting on the front porch at my in-law’s house, when my focus changed. It was almost dusk and the weather couldn’t have been more perfect. I was sitting there with my son, Ian, chatting about our day and how great the vacation had been. Out of the blue, he told me that he thought the mockingbird must have at least 20 songs that it could sing, because he was pretty sure he hadn’t heard one repeated yet. I really hadn’t been paying attention (there are always bird songs to be heard from that porch!), so I listened closely and, sure enough, I could hear the same bird singing one song after another. I must have heard at least 15 unique tunes; I was struck by this unusual talent, and began wondering:

Why does the mockingbird sing the songs of other birds?

How many songs does it know?

Why does it sing those songs—how does it pick a song to learn? 

Does the mockingbird even have its own song? 

As these thoughts unraveled in my head, I heard the Holy Spirit gently tell me that I was just like the mockingbird.  I have as many “roles” in my life as the mockingbird has songs.  I am a wife to Dave; mother to Scott, Ian, and Katie; daughter to JoAnn and Dave; daughter-in-law to Don and JoAnn; sister to Barb, Jim, and Linda; friend; church member; Bible study leader; nurse; co-worker; neighbor. 

Am I the same person in each of these roles?  

How does my “song” change with each role?

Are these roles that I chose, or ones that were assigned to me?

Are any of them the real me? 

Have I even found the real me?

Since that day, the mockingbird questions have been relentless and undeniable; repeatedly bubbling to the surface of my thoughts and prayers. I know I must try to answer them; it's the only way I will learn the song I was born to sing.

And, singing is very important to me. I've been singing for church and special events since I was a child. I love music and I love to sing. I love the flow of music and the harmony. I love the perfect blend of lyric and melody. 

When I began singing as a child, my Mom selected my songs. She appreciated good music and taught me that same appreciation. Naturally, her choices reflected her taste.  I grew up regularly attending church and learned the favorite hymns of my church family--adding more music to my life. In High School, I took vocal lessons and expanded my musical repertoire. These songs reflected the taste of my very serious Yugoslavian Choral Director. 

Eventually, I reached the point of making my own musical selections. Still, I chose my music carefully--always mindful of my audience and what they would find worshipful or appropriate.

But, on my own--in my car, on my iPod--that's where I express my true musical identity. I sing along with the radio and "dance" in the seat of my car.  I move to the music while I'm cleaning the house or ironing. Sometimes I wonder how I ever managed NOT to learn to dance!

I need music that "moves" me in other ways, too. Music that can reach right into my soul and find the me that is hiding there.  I know it touches me more than any sermon ever has.  Perhaps that is why God is using the mockingbirds to teach me about Him, and who He has called me to be.  

You see, I have a song to sing, and I can't allow it to lie dormant. I need to share it. I need to sing God's song.

The Perfect Life

There are some parts of that day that I can remember so clearly.  There are other parts that are completely opaque in my memory.  My most vivid memory is of sitting on the floor of my bedroom closet, crying and feeling sorry for myself one minute and looking up at my husband,  the next.  He looked so defeated, and then he spoke.

He said, "I'll do anything to make you happy.  If it would make you happy, I would even leave." 

***********************************************

This week we happily celebrated 30 years of marriage--and they have truly been 30 great years.  Many people looking at us, from outside of this relationship, have commented on the "perfect" marriage that we have.  They are right, and they are wrong.  No relationship is perfect, and that includes ours.  For a long time, I didn't really understand how dangerous that was.  But, I did learn.  And that day was the starting point.

I came from a family of divorce and disagreement.  Dave came from a family of commitment and harmony.  I wanted what they had so badly that I worked as hard as I could to make us the perfect couple, with the perfect marriage and the perfect kids.  For years just one part of the perfection eluded me--the perfect house in the perfect place.  And then, it happened!  

It wasn't a mansion or anything even close to that.  But, it was the first home we owned, after years of scraping by and renting and never having a place we could truly call ours.  It was a small three-bedroom ranch in the Ohio countryside--a peaceful community with good neighbors and cornfields all around it.  It was only a couple of hours away from much of our family.  It was the perfect place for our perfect family.

I got busy decorating rooms and planting flower beds, but I knew in my heart that things were far from perfect; that my husband was truly miserable.  It wasn't the house, or me, or the children.  It was his job.  He hated it, and every day he spent in that office in Columbus was torture.  I remember talking this over with my Mom one day and her counsel was sound--she told me that as long as he continued to work in an environment that poisoned his soul this way, he would struggle to be happy and, eventually, it would spill over into every part of his life--including our home.  She was right, and I could see it get worse with each passing week.

It was hard, but eventually I worked up the nerve to ask him if he needed to leave his job in order to restore his mental and emotional health.  Long story short--the Lord led him to an amazing opportunity and, within a month of our conversation, he had a new job!  In Columbia, South Carolina.  Back to where we had just come from. 

I stayed in Ohio, to sell the house, while he moved to Columbia and started his new job.  I was busy with three kids (6 years, 3 years, and 18 months old) and with showing the house and packing our belongings.  Too busy to realize how resentment was building up in my heart.  After three months, the house was sold and the van was packed and we were joining Dave in SC.  

Since we didn't know where we would be able to find a house, we moved into an apartment complex.  No yard to play in, like we had in Ohio. No sandbox made from an old truck tire, like we had in Ohio.  No flower beds and berry bushes and trees to climb, like we had in Ohio.  

But, Dave loved his job and he was so happy.

I was so miserable.  And, I let my mind park there until it was all I could think about.  All that I had given up to make him happy. 

Friends and co-workers and people we went to church with saw the facade I wanted them to see.  The perfect family and the perfect marriage.  For a while, I even convinced Dave.

******************************************

I don't remember how the conversation started, or even what we talked about.  I do remember dissolving in tears after explaining that I had given up everything I loved about my life in order to make HIM happy.  And, like a coward, I walked out of the room and went to my closet and sat down and cried.  

Why couldn't he see everything I had sacrificed to make him happy?  Why didn't he understand how sad this move had made me?  Why?  Why?  WHY??

I looked up, and he was standing there looking so sad and so defeated.  He offered to leave if it would make me happy.  This man, for whom even the word divorce was anathema, offered to do just that if it was what I needed. 

I was in shock.  Divorce was NOT what I wanted!  Divorce was what I came from.  It was the worst part of my life.  I did not want us to be apart--I wanted us to be "PERFECT"!  I think I stammered and asked him why he would say such a thing.  He just looked at me and told me he loved me so much that he would do whatever it took to make me happy again.

In that moment, I realized that my emotional state was my own responsibility.  I was looking at everything from the worst angle possible.  I was comparing things that could never be comparable.  I was focusing on me and what I had given up, and looking right past the loving arms of my husband and my children and all that they wanted to give me to replace it.  

That was the day that I learned that The Perfect Life is not about the setting it happens in.  It is about the people you live it with and the choices that all of us make, every single day, to see the beauty that is right in front of us.  There have been disagreements and angry words exchanged on a few occasions since that day.  But, I have never forgotten the powerful lesson I learned about pride and about what perfect love really looks like and what it means to be willing to compromise and sacrifice and grow together.

Are you struggling to find what your "Perfect Life" looks like?  Do feel like you just keep trying harder, but nothing ever gets better?  Are you worn out from trying to make everyone else happy, but always feeling like you fall short of the mark?  I would encourage you to check out "The Cure for the Perfect Life" by Kathi Lipp & Cheri Gregory, and learn about how to stop trying harder and start living braver.

You can follow this link and you will be able to read the first chapter for free: 

http://www.thecurefortheperfectlife.com/downloads/chapter1.pdf

Check it out and I promise you will find yourself nodding your head and saying, "Yes!!  How can they read my mind like that??!!" 

You can also follow the links below to their Facebook page, and to retail locations where the book can be found:

Facebook Page (aka “Braver Living Rebel Headquarters”):
http://www.Facebook.com/TinyActsOfRebellion

Barnes & Noble link

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-cure-for-the-perfect-life-kathi-lipp/1118908688?ean=9780736957007

Amazon link:

http://www.amazon.com/The-Cure-Perfect-Life-Trying/dp/0736957006

CBD.com link:

http://www.christianbook.com/-perfect-trying-harder-start-living-braver/kathi-lipp/9780736957007/pd/957007

Family Christian link:

http://www.familychristian.com/catalog/product/view/id/270248/

The Church Consumer

I like to sing.  My whole life, from the time I was about seven, I have performed vocal music selections for my church.  I just really love singing about how I see God, experiencing His presence through music, and sharing that experience with my fellow church members.  Many times I hear songs on the radio as I drive and fall in love with it instantly--I can't wait for the opportunity to share that music with my friends at church! 

Then comes the difficult part:  assessing whether the song I love is really something I can do at church.  I'm not talking about vocal range or available instruments.  I am talking about the suitability of the song for my church.  Now, don't get me wrong--the members of my church love good music.  But, they also have standards that are important to them. 

If only they had the same standards--then the choice wouldn't be so hard!

Some prefer a very traditional style of music.  Some like to tap their toe to a lively tune.  There are those who have concerns about contemporary music styles, i.e. the use of drums and guitars, and there are those who play those instruments themselves.  There is a wide age range to consider--from children and teens to adults in their 90s.  How do you pick something that speaks to everyone?

As I read Chapter Seven in Derwin Gray's book, "Limitless Life" this week, I was struck by a thought.  The reason for dilemmas like the one I just outlined is that our church, like most others, has a lot of consumers in it and not enough contributors.  There are many who think their church is there for them, when, in fact, they should be there for their church. 

Perhaps you've heard these complaints before:

That sermon didn't do anything for me.

The music today was horrible--so slow and plodding (or too fast and too much of a beat).

Can't they figure out how to work the air conditioning?

The greeter didn't stop talking to (fill in the blank) and say hello to me this morning.

Who picked out the flowers for the platform?  I hate seeing tropical flowers up there.

And the complaints go on.  Always with the subtle insinuation that things really need to change or the complaints will be taken to the next level.  Or they will stop attending.  Or--GASP--they will just stop giving their offerings.

These are the voices of consumers.  Members so absorbed with what they are, or are not, getting out of the church experience, that they give no thought to whether it is reaching someone else there.  They treat the church like it is a product to be purchased and consumed, rather than like a place to meet with other people to worship and learn about God.  If they aren't happy, everybody knows about it.  They make sure of that.

I have sat in the pew and endured something I didn't really enjoy.  I have wondered "Why?" when it comes to unusual music and strange anecdotes and rambling testimonies.  And, I have experienced the Spirit speaking to my selfish heart and reminding me that someone there IS being blessed.  I am told that not everything is for me; sometimes it is for someone with different needs than mine. 

I'm always a little embarrassed when I experience this reminder and realize the depth of my selfishness and my idolatry.

That's right--idolatry.  Because, when the various aspects of the church experience become more important than the God and Savior we are there to worship, we are worshipping at the Idol of Church.  This is such a dangerous form of idol worship, too, because it looks so right.  I mean, what could be wrong with being concerned about how things are done in the worship of God? 

A lot can be wrong with it and it can be very dangerous to let the form of worship become more important than the God we worship. 

So, the next time I am sitting in church wondering "Why?", I will look around and remember that someone there is being led a little closer to the God of Heaven.  And I will join them and worship Him, too.

Beautiful But No Fragrance

At the end of my driveway, where the fence posts stand at the entrance, is a beautiful vine growing next to the edge of the post.  It is woven through the wire fencing and spills out over the top of the fence.  Even when it's not blooming it is beautiful, as is arches gracefully over the fencetop, but in the Springtime it is filled with blooms.  The first time I noticed it blooming I was SO excited.  I love flowers and this one looked like a variety of honeysuckle--one of my favorites!  I remember getting out of the car to walk over to the fence and breathe in the sweet scent of honeysuckle.

But there was nothing.  No scent.  What a disappointment.

Since then I have watched it return, Spring after Spring, and admired its creamy pink and buttery yellow blooms.  And every time I look at it I experience the disappointment again.  How can something so beautiful be so blank--so absent of the full experience?

As I was pulling in to the driveway one day, the Spirit spoke to my heart about this vine.  He said, "You are like this vine sometimes.  What people see on the outside is beautiful, as you speak about your commitment to me and your love for me.  But, when they get closer to you they miss the sweet fragrance of My real love in you." 

That was quite a wake up call.  I had to ask myself if I was someone who had a religion, or someone who had Jesus in her heart.  And the answer wasn't good.  It seemed that I knew all about Jesus, but I wasn't sure I could say I really KNEW Him.

I can recite John 3:16. I know many hymns by heart. I can enter a small group discussion with vigor and clear presentation. I can name all of the books of the Bible in order. I can discuss the fundamental beliefs of my religion with clarity.

And all of this is meaningless if I don't really know Jesus; if I don't take the time to stop and really see the people around me and love them.  I had become so busy being a good Christian that I had neglected being a Christ follower.  And those things are VERY different. 

In the last year, the sweet Holy Spirit has been working on my heart, softening it to really see the needs of the people around me.  He has given me many opportunities to ask someone if I could pray with them.  He has spoken to me about learning to be honest in my way I live my life.  He has asked me to open up about my mistakes and my questions and my pain.

God has also put me right in the middle of a very painful experience within my own church and asked me to open my eyes and really see what happens when religion becomes more important that God.  Time and time again, I have asked God to "fix" this problem--to make it go away--so that I can have peace.  And He, in His wisdom, has told me "No".

Because I had to learn that you can look just fine on the outside, but if the fragrance of God is missing from your words and your actions, anyone who gets close enough will just be disappointed. 

I'm saying good-bye to that spiritual "bait-and-switch" and opening my heart up to following Christ.  Not only is that better on the outside--it's better on the inside, too!

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.