The Pit of Despair

Like many people in the world over, I am a fan of The Princess Bride.  In fact, if those three words don't immediately conjure up images of Cary Elwes clinging to the back of Andre the Giant for dear life, or ROUSs, or iocane powder, then, honestly, I don't think we can be friends.  Not the bosom sort anyway.

Ha ha ha ha ha, ha ha ha ha ha, ha ha ha... [thunk]

Ok, moving on.

If you are familiar with the movie, then you are aware of the Pit of Despair [Don't even think.  achem.  Don't even think about trying to escape.]  If you are not familiar with the movie, just imagine an underground dungeon run by a six fingered psychopath and his albino minion with a pretty nasty cold sore.  The particulars are not important, though.  In fact, as much as I love The Princess Bride, the movie doesn't matter either.  It's the pit of despair that is the topic of today.  That place where we can find ourselves in the dark, feeling hopeless and alone.

Now typically, there are two types of pits.  First, is the pit that you dig yourself and swan-dive into on occasion by your actions and lifestyle.  Sometimes we don't even bother to dig a new one, we simply uncover an old one and fall right in.  This is not the type of pit I'm hoping to discuss today.  The type of pit that I'm referring to is the the type, where you are legitimately headed down the right path, the path that God set in front of you, and out of nowhere [BAM!] you fall into a pit you did not see coming.  It feels as though the world opened up and swallowed you whole.  So, now, you're alone.  In the dark.  Any light you may perceive seems to be tricks and voices of encouragement seem like mockery.  God is nowhere to be found and you wonder if He's abandoned you altogether.

THAT BRINGS US TO JOSEPH AND HIS TECHNICOLOR COAT
AKA LITTLE JOEY THE BRATTY LITTLE BROTHER WITH BIG DREAMS
AKA LITTLE JOEY DAD'S FAVORITE 
AKA LITTLE JOEY THE JERK THAT DREAMS OF BEING IN CHARGE  

When we meet up with Joseph in Genesis 37:18, he finds himself in a pit, possibly left for dead, even though he was exactly where he was supposed to be.  In fact, he finds himself in the incredibly sad position of discovering that the people he trusted the most, his brothers, wanted him dead.  There's a long back story here that explains how Joseph found himself in this place, but in short he was given big dreams by God and a beautiful coat by his Dad; for which his brothers despised him and were prepared to murder him.      

Well, most of his brothers.  After the plan was devised to kill him and throw him into a pit, Reuben, one of his older brothers, suggested that they simply leave him for dead as he intended to return and save him.  Ultimately, Joseph was sold as a slave in Egypt, thrown in prison for attempted rape, then promoted to the second highest command in all of Egypt, which ultimately was the method by which God was able to preserve the nation of Israel.  The End.

Just kidding, rewind back to the pit.  Yesterday as I was praying for a person very near and dear to my heart who finds herself in a incredibly difficult and solitary place, I heard God speak to me:

"Sometimes the pit we perceive we're in is actually designed to protect us, preserve us and get us to where God intends us to be." 

After "hearing" that, I immediately cracked open my Bible and turned to Genesis to read more about Joseph, the guy that immediately came to mind.  I'd heard the story when I was small, read it a few times as an adult, but the pit never seemed to be a positive element to the story.  It was a pit for goodness sake, how could it be good?

Then again, how can a person be faithfully going down the right path, and still find themselves in a pit?  How can God send us down a path KNOWING there is a pit ready to swallow us up?  It's really kind of confusing, until you read the story again.

"... Let's just throw him into this empty cistern here in the wilderness.  Then he'll die without our laying a hand on him.' Reuben was secretly planning to rescue Joseph and return him to his father."

When read this way, the pit was likely Joseph's salvation.  God can use the least likely experiences in our lives to protect us, to preserve us and to get us to where He intends us to be.  It can be incredibly difficult to know that you've done all in your power and still find yourself in a pit, but can I encourage you to simply adjust your perception?  That pit you perceive to be all around you?  Could that pit be your salvation? Could it possibly be that God is removing you from a situation that is destructive or the He is keeping you from relationships that will stunt your growth and ultimately keep you from your true calling and purpose?  

If you know that you are walking right with God and yet you feel as though you've been flung into a pit, I pray that you sense the closeness of God as He protects you and that the darkness you perceive around you is merely His covering.

Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty.
This I declare about the Lord: 
He alone is my refuge, my place of safety; 
He is my God, and I trust Him,
For He will rescue you from every trap and protect you from deadly disease.
He will cover you with His feathers:
He will shelter you with His wings.
His faithful promises are your armor and protection.
Psalm 91:1-4 (NLT)  




  

That's Not Me Anymore

The nice thing about having an unknown blog is that hardly anyone reads what I write.  The bad thing is that usually the people that do read what I write are my friends and family.  As a fairly private person, it's a bit unusual for me to put my business out there, but I suppose things are a bit unusual lately.  Bear with me friends.

On Wednesday night I had the privilege of taking my kids to practice for the Children's Christmas Program at our church.  It was nice being able to get a sneak preview of cute kids singing and also be able to strike fear into the hearts of my boys as they lined up, walked in, sang, stood up, sat down and did their thing.  Yep, I'm the mom that stands in the back doing the "I got my eyes on you" motion as I point to my eyes and then to them.  Honestly, I believe that even if I had not been there, my kids would have been well behaved, perhaps even better.

Liam, my middle son, signed up to write about his favorite Christmas memory and share it during the program.  When his moment came, he moved to his marker, listened to a sweet 6th grade girl share her moving story, held the microphone to his mouth and said "I can't do this."  He then set the microphone down and walked off stage as one of the teachers followed him out of the room.  I didn't run to him.  I let his teacher provide the counsel and encouragement that a Mom just can't provide, especially a Mom that seems to be watching your every move.  When she brought him to me, he was red eyed and still visibly upset.  Probably embarrassed.  We sat at the back of the sanctuary and he told me all the reasons he could not do it.  "Hers was so good."  "I'm scared." "I'm only in 4th grade." "Mine is so different from hers."

We dissected all of those concerns and discussed that his story was special too and needed to be shared.  Then I reminded him of two moments in his life.  The first was may be 3 years ago when he insisted on getting on the platform at our previous church to pray into a microphone in front of hundreds of people.  I was more scare than he was and he did awesome.  The second was about 2 years ago when he was baptized in front of a couple hundred people and he boldly proclaimed his faith, again into a microphone.  I told him that those moments reflect the boldness and courage inside of him and that THAT is who he is.  Then he said something kind of timely.

"That's not who I am anymore."

How often have I said these same words to God?  I am currently in kind of a funky place.  A place where dreams have been shelved and nearly forgotten.  A place where the person who I was seems so distant and almost a little mythical.  There is a certain boldness, courage and, dare I say it, passion that seems to have waned. 

And I say "That's not who I am anymore."

So, on Wednesday night, as I sat in the pew at the back of the sanctuary, I told my son that, of course, THAT is still him.  That God had created THAT in him.  That, no matter what, THAT will always be him.

As we wrap up this final week of Advent and contemplate Immanuel, God with us, take a moment to pull a dream or two off the shelf.  If Christ came so that we might have life and life more abundant, then would it not seem appropriate to reacquaint ourselves with the "us" we were created to be? 

The Waiting Room

"The radiation waiting room is a special place. A sea of broken people; adults of all ages, children, brain cancer, breast cancer, pancreatic cancer. We exchange knowing glances, we learn each others names, we smile. There is solidarity here and I find myself thankful that I can never un-know that such suffering, such valor, exists. It makes me a better person. It keeps insignificance in it's place." - FB post by a Christian father of a young cancer patient.

Image courtesy of Ambro / FreeDigitalPhotos.net 

 

Should this not also be a picture of the Church; vulnerable and broken and honest with one another.  I am not attempting to degrade those that have been tormented by cancer or its treatments.  Let me show you what I mean:

 

"The Church is a special place.  A sea of broken people; adults of all ages, children, liars, cheaters, thieves, the lonely, the brokenhearted.  We exchange knowing glances, we learn each others names, we smile.  There is a solidarity here and I find myself thankful that I can never un-know that such suffering, such valor, exists.  It makes me a better person.  It keeps insignificance in its place." 

 



But this is not what I can say about the Church.  Though it is true that She is a sea of broken people of every age and knowing glances are exchanged, but those glances usually come in the form of judgement.  We do learn each others names, but only because we must out of some unwritten church-going law.  Yes, there are smiles, but they do not often come from a deep place of vulnerability, but rather from the shallows of our facades. 

 

Of course there are places where people are permitted to reveal their brokenness, but they are not the rule.  Most certainly the Church is not perceived as such by the non-church-going sect.  In fact, if radiation treatment waiting rooms were like our churches, can you imagine what you would find there?  Thickly painted, clownish faces and uncomfortable clothes stuffed with padding; some would have no people at all.   

 

Yet this is what we do every weekend, we paint on our smiles and wear our best clothes; tell our kids to straighten up while we tell everyone that we're fine, wonderful, in fact.  We are the sick that sit across from the doctor and say, "I feel great!" all the while we are desperate for help and healing and wholeness.

 

I pray that you find a place that allows brokenness and I pray that you find the strength to allow Jesus to identify it, name it and treat it.

 

 

When Jesus heard it, he said to them, “Healthy people don’t need a doctor, but sick people do. I didn’t come to call righteous people, but sinners.” Mark 2:17

 

 

What Apology|2013 is not... and what it is.

The LGBTQ Community VERSUS the entirety of Christendom. 

It's a hot topic. 

It doesn't matter if you're talking about it in the context of marriage, adoption, the Boy Scouts, professional sports, fast food chains, or any other battleground, it is a topic that can quickly set a blaze between individuals both online and off.

So, you must be thinking, why have I created Apology|2013 and what is my intent?


Let me start with what Apology|2013 isn't.

It's not an attempt to rewrite the Bible or refute it's contents.

It's not a statement about what is or what is not sin.

It's not a condemnation of Christians across the country or around the globe.

It's not an apology for being a Christian or our beliefs.


What Apology|2013 is.

It's just that, an apology.

It's intended to say...

I'm sorry for every time I ever thought my sins were more tolerable than yours, they aren't.

I'm sorry for every time I ever thought God loved me more than He loves you, He doesn't.

I'm sorry for every time I wasn't loving, that doesn't reflect Jesus and not just MY Jesus, but the actual Jesus that lived and breathed and walked the earth, Who I believe still lives.

I'm sorry for every time I didn't jump to your defense or looked the other way when you were hated, Jesus would have.

I'm sorry for every time I assumed I knew more about life than you did, I don't.

I'm sorry for every time I judged you, if sins had a hierarchy, pride would be at the top.

I'm just sorry.


Now, I have had people that have suggested that we cannot apologize for the actions of another human being.  After all, we are all human and we are all broken.  I agree on some levels, but on the other hand, I do feel that we can apologize on behalf of our family, especially when other family members are not representing our core values.

This is not a personal apology that I've blown out of proportion to some kid I knew in high school.  This is not a response to some guilt that I have floating around.

This is me standing for something that lies at the core of my CHRISTIAN beliefs and an invitation for you to join me.

Apology|TwentyThirteen

So WAAAAAYYYY back in January of this year I decided to create an event called Apology 2013.  You can read more about my idea here.  I was passionate about it, harrassed people via email, blog comment and twitter. 

Unfortunately, I only had a handful of people get on board.  Not on board enough to promote it, but on board enough to say they would participate.  But, hey, I took what I could get.  After a few weeks of pushing my idea onto people, I realized that it just wasn't working.  Few people cared and some even flatly disagreed.  I was deflated.

So as June 25th quickly approached, I found myself with a tough (for me) choice.  Do I continue knowing that I was a single voice amongst a clamorous online community?  Do I just throw my hands up, knowing that my efforts would reach few?  Well, after contemplating my options I've decided that even if I stand alone, I've still got to stand.

So, I remain firm in my belief that there must be a move like this to bridge the ever expanding gap between many people in the world, those that are members of the LGBT community and those that simply support them, and the Christian community.  So, once again, I invite you to join me in my efforts to do just that.  To keep it simple I've included a .jpg that you may use.  I recommend:

1. Change all of your online profile pictures on June 25, 2013!
2. Share it on Facebook, your blog, Instagram, Twitter. 
3. Turn it into a T-Shirt or Button.  For those more economically minded, you can print it on a file label and wear it on your shirt.

Here's a post I read today over at Matt Appling's blog that stirred me. 

I invite you to join me in this cause, however lost it may be. 

The Controversy of Christ

I've had a concept that has been floating in the vast abyss of my mind as of late.  In fact, this post has been begun, deleted, restarted and deleted again. 

 

Here's the thing.  Jesus Christ is controversial.  As a follower of Christ, I should be controversial.  In fact, ALL followers of Christ should be controversial, but, for the most part, we are simply not.  Sadly, those that are, are rarely controversial for any of the reasons Jesus was.

 

When was the last time you ate dinner with a pimp or a gang member at their house? 

 

Have you ever befriended a drug addicted prostitute?

 

If given the opportunity, would you publicly decry Church leaders taking advantage of church members or elevating their position?

 

Do you truly love others regardless of race, religion, sexual orientation or pasts?  How about atheists, agnostics, universalists, Muslims, Buddhists, Hindus, homosexuals, transgendered individuals or what about those that simply hate you? 

 

Let me set a scene for you.  

 

A young girl is exiting an office building.  She's looks about 20 years old with shoulder length brown hair and a pretty face.  Nothing about her is striking.  She takes a step onto the asphalt and she keeps her head down as she is trailed by a young man also about her age. 

 

On the sidewalk running parallel with the edge of the parking lot, a small crowd of individuals with hand-made signs have gathered.  They are not there specifically for her, but in a way, they are.  One sign says, "Abortion Kills Babies."  There are others, but girl about 9 years old, also pretty with shoulder length brown hair is holding a sign that says "Abortion Kills Children." 

 

One woman in particular, in her mid-forties with cropped blond hair framing her pudgy flushed cheeks, yells out "I hope you're not one of them baby killers!!  Abortion's a sin, you know!!!"

 

Instead of slowing her pace, the young woman, visibly uncomfortable, hastens to make it to the safety of her vehicle. 

 

Now, I ask you, the controversial Jesus whose name we just love to bandy about, where would He be standing in this scenario?  Would He be holding a sign?  Or rather, would He stand in between the young woman and the protesters asking for those that had never responded in anger to anyone remain?  Would He put His arm around her after the protesters had gone and told her it would be ok, but that there was a better choice?  Would His eyes be filled with Love and His action be filled with hope?  I think so.

 

Who is this Jesus we say we follow really?  Are we really following Him? 

 

Yes, Jesus is controversial.  Yes, American Christianity is also controversial, but typically for polar opposite reasons.

 

I ask you, if you have found yourself controversial, was it as Christ was or was it simply in His name?   

 

I could set scene after scene where "the world" clashes with "the church" and I bet MOST of the time, Jesus would not be standing with us.

Thirty-Six and Counting

Whelp.  It's my birthday again.  I've fallen off the blogging wagon as of late, A-gain, but I feel a certain sense of obligation to post something on my birthday.

This birthday is a weird one for me.  We recently lost my husbands grandfather, well, we didn't lose him, as much as he peacefully passed from this life into the next.  Somehow my birthday falls in between his death and his funeral, so I guess you could say that my BIRTHday is a bit shrouded this year.

Isn't that how life works sometimes though?  With the constant ebb and flow of life and death, we are daily celebrating new life and lives well lived. 

On this, the day where we once again commemorate my Mother's strength and conviction to bring me into this world and her self-control and patience that prevented her from taking me out of it between the ages of 12 and 23, I want to share a bit about Andy, Rob's grandfather.  Given his influence on my husband, my children and me personally, it seems fitting.

I met Andy and Angie when I was 19 and really got to know them when I lived with them for about a month from May to June 1997.  Yes, I said lived.  You may be wondering if it was Rob and I that lived with them and the answer is no, it was just me.  I won't go into the back story that lead me, basically a stranger, to living in an RV parked in their driveway like a bum, but just know that I was kind of an idiot. 

Admittedly, Andy wasn't my blood grandfather and so many people are much more deeply connected to him, but he definitely didn't let on to that fact in the way  he treated me.  Now that I'm a bit more mature, I look back on how our relationship started and am in awe at the grace, integrity and love that were constant in his life.  I don't know that I would have let some odd looking girl with black hair and lip ring come live in my yard, even if she was my grandson's girlfriend.  I mean, how long is THAT relationship gonna last anyway?  Haha!

I am really sensing that this post could get pretty long and in an effort to make it easier for you to digest, here are my top 10 qualities or memories I loved about Tata (a cherished moniker that he gained when he became a great-grandfather).  Keep in mind that this is just the tip of an expansive ice berg of 87 years of a well lived life.

1.  Memory: Road trip to the Bay Area, just him and I, to make a delivery for Central Auto, his auto dismantling company.  It was on this trip that I learned that there is always room for a cheeseburger.  It was also on this trip that our bond began. 

2. Memory: Watching "Stories" with he and Angie each evening.  I think he really thought I might learn Spanish.  Sadly, I never did. 

3. Memory: How happy it made him that I craved his chile when I was pregnant with the boys.  He always made sure that I had a jar of my own to take home.  He also convinced me to try nopales, which, as it turns out, I love!

4. Memory: Watching my boys flock to him each time we arrived at their home.  He would always say "Now come here and give you Tata a kiss."  Anyone who loves my kids like he did is a giant in my book!

5. Memory: He would always, always, always try to teach me to load the dishwasher.  As much as I would try to shoo him out of the kitchen, the conversations were filled with a lot of "Thusly"s.  If you've had the benefit of spending more than 5 minutes with him, you know what I'm talking about.

6. Memory: The nicknames and words that he made up.  Often times we found out later that they were not totally fictional, but they were always awesome.  This trait has been passed on to my husband and will likely continue with my boys. 

7. Memory: The hammock.  I don't know why, but it always made my heart smile to see him relaxing in his hammock under the canopy of his redwoods and plum trees.  I imagine him in heaven relaxing in a hammock even now.

8. Quality: He was a family man.  He always put his family first. He was generous and loving and was always happy to see us.  He was patient with the kids even when they were rowdy or wouldn't eat their food.  He loved all of us unconditionally. 

9. Quality: He lived a life that was founded on integrity.  He was a business man, a veteran, a friend, a husband, a father, a (great)grandfather and many, many other things and he did all of these things as a man of integrity.  He said what he meant and meant what he said. 

10. Quality: He loved life!!  He was funny, he was hospitable, he loved food and was an excellent cook, he was always going and doing and traveling.  He loved mechanical dancing and singing animals and figurines.  He LOVED to make them perform for the kids and they loved it too!  He always had a twinkle in his eye and a smile on his face.  I literally don't think I can conjure a picture in my mind of him not smiling. 

Andy Gonzales may not have been my grandfather from birth, but he has been my grandfather for the last 16 years and to say that I simply cared for him or liked him would be an incredible understatement.  He has always had my deepest respect and my love.

Yes, it  may be my birthday, but today I consider my life in light of a man who lived his so, so well.  It is my hope that my husband and I are able to live a life which one day leaves a legacy that is even remotely as powerful Andy and Angie. 

Andy, you will be missed each and every day.  We promise to give Nana an extra kiss for you every time we visit.