Five Minute Friday: Break

{ source }

Gentle Reader,

The Five Minute Friday ladies offered to take up a bail money collection for me tonight.

That’s friendship right there.

Kate and all of us. We: break.

Go.

Honestly? I just want a break. From the demands. From the worries. From the illness. From cataloging DVDs. (Yes, really). From laundry and the noise of the dishwasher and the dogs barking and the planning and the grocery lists and ALL THE THINGS.

I want to go into Super Introvert Mode. Able to morph into a blanket burrito in a single roll.

There are things that make me want to poke my eyes out. (That’s a bit graphic). If some people would just step up… If others would just calm down… If my hair would do the same thing two days in a row… If I just had this, could just do that, had the opportunity for…

I look up to the mountains;
    does my strength come from mountains?
No, my strength comes from God,
    who made heaven, and earth, and mountains.

He won’t let you stumble,
    your Guardian God won’t fall asleep.
Not on your life! Israel’s
    Guardian will never doze or sleep.

God’s your Guardian,
    right at your side to protect you—
Shielding you from sunstroke,
    sheltering you from moonstroke.

God guards you from every evil,
    He guards your very life.
He guards you when you leave and when you return,
    He guards you now, He guards you always. – Psalm 121 (MSG)

I lean my head back against the couch and close my eyes as the dishwasher drones on and Chris blows his nose. (Poor guy’s been hit with a nasty cold). And I wonder: Are there breaks to be found even in the chaos? Am I looking at this all wrong, thinking that rest is something that must be scheduled, must take up a whole day (or five) on the calendar?

God protects me. Uplifts me. Guides me. Shades me from sun and from moon. Never sleeps.

He is active in my chaos, smoothing the way when best, giving me strength to make it over the lumps when best. He knows. And I think, in the middle of it all, He invites me to take little breaks. Little pauses. To breathe deeply.

To be with Him.

Stop.

Grace and peace along the way.

Five Minute Friday: Real

{ source }

Gentle Reader,

I missed the fabulous and frantic tweet-party last night. The hubby and I enjoyed a quiet evening together, crafting the dinner menu for the next month and plotting out the grocery list. (Yep, we’re those people). So I don’t have a clue what the jokes were.

Happily I can jump back in next week and not miss a beat.

Linking up with the Kate and the gang. We are: Real.

Go.

I’m nearly finished with Beth Moore’s study on the life and ministry of the Apostle John. Honestly, I haven’t been “into” this one like I’ve been others. That’s solely on me and not a fault of the author in any way. Post-surgery funk is real and it lasts longer than you think it will. But I’m glad that I’ve stuck with it. The daily discipline of Scripture reading, especially when you don’t feel like it, matters.

The portion I focused on recently involved Revelation 4. Moore instructs her reader to take in all the details of the chapter and draw the scene – stick figures count!

You guys.

I mean, you guys.

Check this out:

After these things I looked, and behold, a door standing open in heaven. And the first voice which I heard was like a trumpet speaking with me, saying, “Come up here, and I will show you things which must take place after this.”

Immediately I was in the Spirit; and behold, a throne set in heaven, and One sat on the throne. And He who sat there was like a jasper and a sardius stone in appearance; and there was a rainbow around the throne, in appearance like an emerald. Around the throne were twenty-four thrones, and on the thrones I saw twenty-four elders sitting, clothed in white robes; and they had crowns[b] of gold on their heads. And from the throne proceeded lightnings, thunderings, and voices. Seven lamps of fire were burning before the throne, which are the seven Spirits of God.

Before the throne there was a sea of glass, like crystal. And in the midst of the throne, and around the throne, were four living creatures full of eyes in front and in back. The first living creature was like a lion, the second living creature like a calf, the third living creature had a face like a man, and the fourth living creature was like a flying eagle. The four living creatures, each having six wings, were full of eyes around and within. And they do not rest day or night, saying:

“Holy, holy, holy,
Lord God Almighty,
Who was and is and is to come!”

Whenever the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks to Him who sits on the throne, who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before Him who sits on the throne and worship Him who lives forever and ever, and cast their crowns before the throne, saying:

“You are worthy, O Lord,
To receive glory and honor and power;
For You created all things,
And by Your will they exist[h] and were created.” (NKJV)

This is real. This is happening right now. Bizarre, fantastic creatures. Ceaseless, ringing praise. Fire. Rainbow. Great voices. A sea as smooth and clear as glass. Thunder and lightning. The Lamb in the center of it all, so bright and beautiful that John didn’t even have words.

I don’t have words.

I stared at my pathetic excuse for a drawing and shook my head in wonder. God is so very real, so very other. Majestically glorious and totally apart, and yet breathtakingly intimate. He who never vacates the throne invites us in. Beckons us, by the blood of Christ, to come close. To the thunder, the lightning, the fantastic creatures, the great and blinding light of holiness.

Close to Him.

Stop.

Grace and peace along the way.

Stop Embracing the Darkness

 

( source }

Gentle Reader,

It wasn’t my plan to spend this day curled up in bed begging God to make the stomach pains stop. And spending intimate time with the porcelain throne. Third time in four months this has happened. Probably more doctor’s visits and tests in my not-so-distant future.

Which has me thinking.

Life is really hard. Anyone who says otherwise is selling something. Illness. Financial stress or outright collapse. Homes burn down in freak electrical fires. Friends move away. Jobs change. Divorce happens. Loved ones die.

It sucks.

Sucks more to stay in that place, the place you go to when the initial shock hits.

I’m just going to be blunt: We have to stop wallowing.

We have to stop embracing the darkness.

Not for nothing did I decide to kill myself three-and-a-half years ago. I get what it is to be so far down the rabbit hole of grief that you can’t even begin to imagine light or warmth. I don’t at all think that we should avoid mourning or working through our issues and feelings. I don’t believe that sorrow is tidy or linear.

I do believe that it passes. No, we don’t always “get over” something. Life will never be the same after a death in the family, the sting of betrayal or a loss of security. These kinds of things are forever-type changes that ripple through the years.

But if we’re still indulging in anger over an event years after it happened…. Still caught up in crying jags years after the death…. Still looking for someone to blame…. Searching for statuses or photos on social media from the time surrounding that hard moment and thus keep reliving it…. Still picking at the scabs, rubbing the scars raw, refusing to move forward….

That’s wrong.

It disturbs me when I read a post or an article airing grief or an offense written in such a way as to make that grief or offense sound fresh when it isn’t. It bothers me to see people stuck in mourning mode. I know what that feels like. I know the rage, the bitterness, the crippling nature of the tears. I also know that it can reach a point when the sorrow feels comfortable and even righteous. “How can anyone really expect me to move on? They don’t understand!”

Meanwhile, friendships fade and families suffer. Children are confused at best, neglected or abused at worst because Mom or Dad won’t come out of the fog. The boss wonders how to handle this newly-volatile employee. God becomes seemingly distant because we make an idol out of that which has been lost. We worship at altars of death and decay.

My friend, this should not be so.

A gentleman in my Sunday school class said something very interesting yesterday: “Every day is a holiday. You can choose to be happy.” There’s a lot of truth in that statement. In the immediacy of sorrow, there’s nothing to smile about. That is for certain. But as the days pass and the heart bleeds a little less with each pump, we are faced with a choice. Do we let God do the work of healing and comfort, or do we spit in His eye and rip open the wound time and again?

I am the last person on earth who will tell you that depression or anxiety put you in the “Too Far Gone” column. I won’t tell you how to mourn. I don’t believe that feelings are sinful – but what we do with them can be. The pain should be diminishing, however slowly, as the days pass. This is a great gift from the One who overcame the world, a store of fresh mercy from the One who never promised there would be no trouble.

Embrace Him, dear one.

Let the darkness go.

Grace and peace along the way.