the beauty of devastation

I think one of the most merciful things that God could ever allow in our lives is what might seem to be total and utter devastation. Don't get me wrong, I don't love pain, I don't enjoy suffering, I don't innately want hardships, conflict, trials or anything that is synonymous with such things. In fact, I actually like to laugh until I can't breath, savor the moments as they come, drink deeply from the joy well, etc. If I could do this all the time, I probably would. But now, lying level in this place that I am in, whatever the address is, I find it all has a different feel to it. Life, that is. Laughter now crests over quickly, becomes tears and a smile that is pulled from a place deep inside of me. Gratitude looks like not being able to say all that's in my heart because there is just too much. Eternity feels like gentle brushes and breezes, blowing over me, into me. I'm just different. Life is different, but in the very best way. So sincerely thankful, for everything; especially the hard things.

In preparing my heart for service this morning, the title of this blog post kept running through my head. I was thinking about how much beauty has come from this wilderness I've been in. The Lord has been so gracious, so giving, so kind to me in allowing me to walk through the valley that this last season has been. It's just like Him to do it this way. It's just like Him to give life for death, to level to establish, to allow loss that I would gain. I see that there has been severe loss, severe tearing of the heart. Yet, what has been poured into me, what has been measured back to me from the heart of God is much more valuable. I can't get away from the notion that I am incredibly rich, that I posses all things because I posses Christ. How can you be bursting at the seams when you are so entirely emptied? How can you posses prevailing faith and hope when you've just limped bloody off the battlefield? Jesus. Only Jesus.

I think most of us put a maddening amount of energy into staving off the Cross of Christ in our lives. I'm certain I have. When we are confronted in the gardens of our lives, as Jesus was, with the cup of the fellowship of His sufferings, I think we inwardly plead, "Please not that, God. Anything but that." 'That' constitutes something different for each one of us but, it does exist, perhaps even as our deepest fear. I believe God puts His Divine finger on those very things for a reason. I think He actually intends to drive out fear, bring faith to the places that if not exposed or confronted, would serve ultimately as the thing that keeps us from really dying; the thing that keeps us from the Cross of Christ. And it's fellowship we gain when we say yes to the beauty of devastation, to the scorn and glory of Calvary. What could have been seemingly more devastating than watching God's son (the one who's supposed to save all) die a brutal, unjust death by crucifixion?

During worship today He touched me and I was undone and in my moment of weakness, out flowed these prayers that always get me in trouble. He corners me with His worth, His glory and I'm left powerless to say no, to turn Him away. He has His ways.

Lord, do whatever you want.
Just be God.
Mess me up.
Flip the script.
Turn my world upside down.
I want you, no matter what it looks like.

I just prayed a world of hurt right there but you know what? God is really wise. He's so wise that what looks like total devastation, what looks like a criminal's death on a rugged cross; what seems to be hopeless, dark, even dead, He makes beautiful. He makes all things beautiful, especially the suffering Savior's labor for my soul. He got what He wanted on that cross. He got me.

It is a gift to suffer severe loss in this life, to suffer seemingly unrecoverable devastation. It is meant for abundant life, no doubt. It is meant for an eternal gain that makes the riches in this life seem like dung. It is wisdom to suffer loss in this day that we would not suffer on that day. This is at times what mercy looks like in light of an incredibly wise Maker who can see both the beginning and the end. He is glorious in infinite wisdom.

Wow...the beauty of devastation when the power of the Cross resurrects it. Selah.

my best friend

Lamaze class and my bad poodle hairdo
juvenile giggling over bad art illustrations
pushing babies in strollers
Cindy Crawford kicking our butts
Stories and stories and stories and...'are you still my friend?'
Cathy Flack's ladies group
Cathy Flack's quiche Lorraine
prayer
"How do you shred lettuce?"
"Surely you jest!"
coffee with amaretto creamer in your checkered coffee mugs
Fanny May brownies
stretch marks
M.O.P.S
FIRE! Fire on ya!
KC hotel room video confessions
serving you chicken thighs our first dinner date (and not the boneless/skinless kind!)
a blackhead story
polka dancing
Roy Lessin bible studies
Char Lessin taco dinners
prayer
highlighting your hair the first and last time
Pat & Steve
Doug & Kathy
you fixing Tim's orange handled scissor botch up on my hair
poppy seed dressing
Deja Vu coffee shakes
a bad dog we gave you
our wasp attack incident
Jim Clayberg
running hard after God together
walking through fire with you
X-rated birth footage
me in a wig in a birthing room
yard sales
your amazing fingernails
prayer
homeschooling chaos
the Christmas mouse
sobbing goodbyes the night before you leave for Thailand
getting lost
getting lost again
your house smelling like a health food store
releasing you
you releasing me
cashew chicken and sticky rice
packing up my heart and sending it overseas
the green maternity shirt
Fels Naptha
some very special meals/times with Lidia and Kelli
a yard sale in a snow storm
prayer
tears
delirious laughter with Joel
getting you high on caffeine
a rough but memorable weekend at Cedar Lodge
camping and the best burgers ever
nutritional healing
coconut oil
your oil and vinegar dressing
Callahan's chicken salad and bread
Jambalaya and a Chocolate Mess
handwritten recipe book
knowing your handwriting well
Outreach Center
The Lord's Place
"You are an intercessor"
bread and juice and a candle on the floor
prayer
endless Mike Bickle teachings
Gary Wiens and a front row encounter
consecrated snot mound in KC
fevers and long nights
baby showers
prayer meetings that smell like coffee and old carpet
counseling
 a fearful trip to the health department
knowing me really well
seizures
fibromyalgia
allergies
Dr. Murphy
size 8 jeans
nursing bras
dirty dishes
birthing babies together
ADD
prayer
Skype
cardamom
mint chocolate chip ice cream
DaySpring
mean talking in your sleep
dreams
filthy minivans
diapers
mating socks
Apostolic Prayers CD
books
Vintage Inn
awkward high pitched singing that made me laugh until I cried
harp and bowl
trafficking sets 10pm - Midnight
Derek Loux
1000 Gifts
Ezekiel Rain
dying and crying
Lidia's cooking
breakthroughs
miracles
love
love
love
love
love
love
love
missing you to tears
May 23rd around noon

the weight of justice

The other day I read an article about the co-founder of Invisible Children and star of the KONY 2012 video being arrested for some disturbing public behaviors. The first thing that came to mind was, "Only Jesus is Just." As you probably have seen, the awareness campaign video went viral weeks ago. My children and I watched it together. I had been made aware of the violence in Uganda about 10 years ago through some prayer meetings. I watched the video I.C. had produced about child soldiers years ago. I remember the night I heard of the persecution, where I was sitting where I heard it and how I felt as the jagged pill went down. My world was so self-absorbed (still working on that) and I needed a good dislodging. I heard stories of how villages were ravaged, women were raped, water holes were poisoned, children were kidnapped. One story that I will never forget was an account of a nursing mother whose breasts were torn off so that her baby would die of starvation and every other child to come, for that matter. It marked me back then. I cried and cried, still cry when I think of this. I shared that story with my children that night. I saw the horror in their eyes, that this had been going on ever since I heard about it. Yes. And even before then. Hard to imagine what suffering in this measure is like when the worst of our suffering is usually financial or some physical affliction, and mostly as a consequence of our poor choices. Lord, have mercy on us.

After watching the video, the children and I prayed for the capture of all who did evil in Uganda, for comfort for the people, for protection for the persecuted church there and for revival to break forth through such things (and we know it has). I understand this much, that there is no justice outside of God. While He wants to put to an end to all evil (and He will one day) and while His heart breaks more than mine ever could for the trafficked, for the innocent slaughtered day in and day out, it is so much more than that. He longs for justice to come to the heart of every man through the mercy of the Cross. We prayed that Kony would come to a place of repentance, a saving knowledge of God and in turn, be used mightily of Him to undo all that had been done, to make straight all the crooked places he had helped to establish. God's will is for all men to be saved, for none to perish. He alone knows who will come into that saving grace and who will refuse but we always pray mercy because that is the Lord's heart posture over us.

When I read the article about the arrest, I was saddened. Saddened for this attractive, blue-eyed father and husband who had found himself in such a mess. I prayed for him, for his family. Surely the pressures of a 'global' justice movement took their toll. But, this is why one man cannot take on justice as if the government could rest on his shoulders. Even while so well intended (and I can relate to this part) justice is nothing that I can execute on the earth apart from the One who is Just and True working it through me. And the frightening thing about partnering with Jesus as a Just Judge is that He is also the Judge for us, for our crooked ways, for our sin, etc. If I cry out for justice it must be coupled with a mercy cry for my own self. Mercy and justice must always marry. I believe that is what may have happened with this man. Justice is so heavy that no man can carry it, no organization can shoulder it, no nation can uphold it but for the grace of God bearing the enormity of it. There is not justice without Jesus. He is Justice.

roots

Learning so much these days. So much. Feel like I'm in Kindergarten again, relearning the basics. But the basics are so beautiful, simple. Love, bless, forgive. Rinse and repeat. Surely this life is a cycle of such things. Feel the grace and truth of God touching my heart in a fresh way. Humbled. Grateful. Oh, the expense of a flowing heart! To graduate means to arrive back at Kindergarten. That's the way of the Kingdom, is it not?

In my younger years I lived in a darkness that is not worth mentioning here. Suffice to say that I understand what it means to be defiled in every sense of the word. I get it. I know what it feels like to absolutely despise what you have become, to feel that your soul is as good as dead, and to loathe your very existence every waking moment. I know what it feels like to not want to wake up the next morning just so you can get away from yourself. Words can't even touch it, really. And knowing all of this, having been all of this, I don't think I have ever known anything more defiling than a bitter root, its judgements and expectations. It's sickening to the soul that it lives in and it's sickening to those who taste of it. It's like dying from the inside out as you spew poison on everyone around you. It's awful.

Hebrews 12:15 See to it that no one comes short of the grace of god; and that no root of bitterness springing up causes trouble, and by it many be defiled.

I'll confess, nothing makes me want to run away more than a sickly tree with a bitter root. It's very difficult to come close for fear that the poison will get on you and you can bet that there is a vile of venom with your name on it. Nobody can get it right to the person with a bitter root. Nobody. I know this much because I lived with many as an angry hell-bent teenager. The poison was killing me though, and everything I touched.

The thing about a bitter root is that it takes it root in offense and unforgivness. While I had been hurt many times and my pain was valid, according to the Cross of Christ, I had no right to take offense or to not forgive, and that included even myself. So, being hurt or unjustly handled does not mean you have a bitter root but it is definitely the inroad for the bitter root when the Cross is not appropriated at the place of injury. While I may think that I had forgiven my offenders, if in my mind I still harbored a bitter root judgement against them, I would continue to find trouble and defilement in my  heart.

What does this look like exactly? Well, for me it looked like a bitter judgement/expectations against my parents, authority figures, men, myself and God. For example, "I can't trust men because...*insert offense taken*" or, "All women are...*insert offense taken*" For me it was, "I can't trust my parents because they made poor choices that brought deep wounding to me." This of course was projected upon God and unwittingly I grew more and more bound up in rebellion, anger and self-hatred, believing the lie that I really wasn't safe, that God really wasn't good and therefore I must be no good. Wasn't I worth protecting, keeping? I made bitter judgements and expectations toward myself. Those were the worst, actually, believing every sort of evil about myself which only plunged me deeper into the dark. It's a bit of a self-fulfilling prophecy, really, rooted in deception. You believe the worst, expect the worst and guess what? You end up with the worst. God will not be mocked, a man shall reap what he sows. Tremble!

Every place of wounding became the home of a bitter root judgement that grew deep into me, choking out truth and life. My response to the injustice in my life was devastating in that it was flat-out sinful and became spiritual death to me. God extended great, great, great mercy to me during that time, being the only One who was immune to the resentful acid that was eating me alive on the inside and was burning up everything/everyone that I touched. Jesus is ultimately the projected upon One and has suffered the ultimate injustice through both the injustice done to me and that which I inflicted upon Him and others, even through my bitter root judgements and expectations. I'm just gonna sit here a minute and think on that. Woh. Oh, He suffers long...

He still came to even the nastiest, most vile, venom-spewing, blackened heart (even while I couldn't stand myself!) He took my poison and drank it down once and for all. Know how He did this? By forgiving me ... that I could forgive. Mind-blowing, really. I'll never get over it. Ever. He's untouchable with pure Love and I want to be the same. The only remedy for a bitter root is to the lay the ax to it by repenting and forgiving. There are no shortcuts and no faking it. What's in the heart comes out of the mouth. It is easy to tell if a tree is dead or alive simply by looking at it. It's just as easy to discern when a person is dead or alive on the inside because it will show in their speech. We might be able to hide the symptoms of sickness on the outside but, no man can tame the tongue. Does yours/mine spew venom or pour forth as a healing balm? Ouch. (Luke 6:45)

Did you know that there are only two instances in the Bible where you will not receive forgiveness? One is if we blaspheme the Holy Spirit (Luke 12:10) and the other is if we do not forgive others. (Matthew 6:14-15) Actually in Matthew 18:21-35 is a frightening account of what will happen to anyone who does not forgive from the heart. In light of the Cross, we have no right to be hurt but rather, every right to be healed. Forgiveness is healing, to the one who receives it and to the one who gives it. What a blessed assurance to know that your sins are forgiven. My son Teague says that they are so far away, like the East and West, and by the time they find you, you will be in heaven. I like his theory!

a weakling's reproach

I don't ever want to be looked upon as strong. Ever. It is an insult to me. Please don't admire me in any way. I have done this to another and have set a snare for them in doing so. I don't want to be viewed as superwoman or supermom or super-anything because I am not. (not news to most who know me well) I am not strong in any way that would be admirable. I lack anything to really be desired but for the grace given in light of my weakness. In my own ability, I am quite wimpy, unable and severely inept. I don't like the idea of faking it until you make it, saving face, pretense ... none of it has ever appealed to me. I have heard others say to me over the years, "I don't think I have ever met anybody more real." or, "You are really sincere." While sincerity won't save me, these comments do speak of who God created me to be. This means that if I am struggling, you will know it. If I am seeking, you will sense it. If I am rejoicing, you will hear me! I'm an open book and I made a promise to God years ago that by His grace, I would stay that way. If I stay open, others can read what He writes upon me. He asked me to be transparent, even at the cost of my reputation (do I even have one?). He asked me to stay open even when my covers wanted to snap shut. He asked me to be real and raw even when it meant the poor opinions of others, being disregarded, dismissed or written off. And as I have journeyed through this Christian life, I have seen the wisdom of living a life turned inside out. While not everything is for everybody (everything is permissible, not all things are beneficial) and I've had to weigh what would be helpful/edifying, it has proven to be a very safe way to carry my 'book' though I'm left wide open and most vulnerable. It requires a lot of faith to trust people. Jesus knew this well. He had to entrust some messy folks with the Gospel. Crazy! A lack of trust in people is ultimately a lack of faith in God. To trust Him means I must trust others, especially those He's brought to me. To submit to God is to submit to others. Such a vulnerable posture, back flat on the ground, totally exposed, seemingly easy to injure. He keeps me. He preserves me.

When we willingly become weak, when we equate ourselves with the weak (1 Corinthians 9:22) we will bear the reproach of the weak, even as we win them. When we love broken people, when we touch unclean people, we will bear the reproach of the broken and unclean. When we have 'friends in low places' we will be considered guilty by association (Luke 7:34). If we do not bear any reproach or guilty charges in this life for those that we choose to touch, love and serve, then we might not really be Jesus to anybody. What reward is there for loving those who can repay us? Even sinners lend to sinners. (Luke 6:34) It is offensive that a Holy God would come and save a filthy people and did He ever bear the reproach of such an absurd idea. (Isaiah 53) How grateful I am that He did! When we love the ones that are rejected and despised, we are loving this Beautiful Man, even while others hide their faces.

So, if while reading through my life's pages you have come to a conclusion that there is something noble or worthy in me, please know that there is nothing, nothing, nothing good in me apart from the baffling grace of God. If I do something right, please know that I have also done much wrong. If I look like I know what I'm doing or that I 'know' something about something, smack me, please.  I don't know anything about anything other than that all that I am and have is a gift from God. All that I ever hope to be is but His goodness and kindness to me. I am not strong, wise, capable, worthy of looking to or following. I am a fellow sojourner and maybe, just maybe, as the Lord leads us to the depths of His heart, we can learn a thing or two from one another.

threshing floor

It feels so right to be wrong about what I 'thought' I knew of God. It seems like wisdom to be shown how small you are, how finite you are, how quickly you will expire. This is why fearing the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. It's because He is God and we are not.

I have come to love His divine resetting in my life. I've come to find that the rebuke of the Lord is life-giving, even the ones that seem impossible to recover from. Oh, is He not both the builder and the wrecking ball? He injures to heal, he breaks to bind up, and He puts to death that He might live. He swings the sword and it draws my blood to His.

The threshing floor, where God meets man, where man meets God. It's where He and I once met. I offered myself at His feet, He spread his garment over me as kinsman Redeemer. It's where He took on all of me forever, with joy in His heart. It's also where I am opened up as a sheave, spread thin, trampled, threshed, and winnowed as grain. He tosses me into the wind only to fall at His feet, a thousand times. I'm made small, I'm made useful, I'm set apart for good. I become a small bit in His large, capable hand. He keeps me.

wonderful counselor

Isaiah 9:6 ...And he will be called Wonderful Counselor...


Psalm 16:7 "I will praise the LORD, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me."

Psalm 32:8 "I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my loving eye on you."

Job 12:13 "To God belong wisdom and power; counsel and understanding are his."

Isaiah 11:2 "The Spirit of the LORD will rest on him— the Spirit of wisdom and of understanding, the Spirit of counsel and of might, the Spirit of the knowledge and fear of the LORD."


We are never left to our own devices. There is a counselor that trumps all other counsel and that is the Spirit of the Lord, the Wonderful Counselor. He will lead you into all truth, He will reveal the Father and He will seal you and keep you until the day of redemption. This is the voice you can trust in the day of trouble.