"If I can endure for this moment . . ." This moment. The moment. My moment. Here and now. The present. This second. This instant.
That is all I have. I often spend so much time trying to dissect, review, contemplate, control the next moments in my life - I often don't deal with this moment. Right now, I can only deal with this moment. If I take on more - I may just drown. In my moment, right now . . . I need air. I need to focus on my breathing. On life. On existing.
What do you need right now - at this moment? Not tomorrow, not tonight, not a month from now. Not even the next 2 minutes. But right now. Do you just need hope? A comforting word. To just sit and "be." To cry. Be angry. What is it that you need?
Let's just try getting through each moment in our lives. Literally - the moment. Instead of taking up everything and thinking too far ahead. Let's just get through the moment.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
Time Heals
I heard a quote recently that I'm clinging to and praying is true: Time heals most wounds. . . give time - time. That brings me relief realizing that no pain is forever. It will pass. After all, when I counsel others - this is one of the very basic principles I use. "This too shall pass."
But as I tap my foot, my fingers, lean on my chin and watch the clock - I know there has to be more to it than this. I know that I can't sit here and watch the time pass. I'm sure that I'm supposed to be doing SOMETHING!! But what? I'm so anxious to let go of this pain, this yucky feeling that has consumed me. Yet often I barely have enough energy to do the basic things each day. Yet - time is moving. Am I being healed?
I'm reminded of another basic principle in my life - my spiritual life. That no matter what we do - God is faithful. Even as I type those words - tears suddenly swell up in my eyes. I think of the many ways that I am unfaithful, that I disappoint, that I go off track, that I look and listen to Jesus, the ultimate love of my life, and decide to go a different way. Yet even in my unfaithfulness, my God is working.
I remember when I was leading up to accepting Christ as my Savior. I devoured the Bible, God's Word - every free moment. Most of what I was reading I didn't quite understand - but I didn't care. I had to have it!! I kept reading and consuming it like it was air. One day, after I accepted Christ - I came across a situation where I had to open my mouth and deliver God's Word. I remember thinking that I was not prepared, not equipped, that I knew nothing. But to my surprise, months of consuming God's Word poured out of me like rivers of living water!
Yes, God is faithful. Even when we think there is nothing going on - He is at work. So as I tap my foot, my hands, and lean on my chin - watching time pass . . . when I don't even have the energy or quite frankly the desire to do anything else - I know that God is faithful and He is moving and working in me. When I have gained enough energy, when my wounds have healed a little, I will begin to get back up and do, live, move, absorb. But right now, I will hide myself in Him, and let time pass.
But as I tap my foot, my fingers, lean on my chin and watch the clock - I know there has to be more to it than this. I know that I can't sit here and watch the time pass. I'm sure that I'm supposed to be doing SOMETHING!! But what? I'm so anxious to let go of this pain, this yucky feeling that has consumed me. Yet often I barely have enough energy to do the basic things each day. Yet - time is moving. Am I being healed?
I'm reminded of another basic principle in my life - my spiritual life. That no matter what we do - God is faithful. Even as I type those words - tears suddenly swell up in my eyes. I think of the many ways that I am unfaithful, that I disappoint, that I go off track, that I look and listen to Jesus, the ultimate love of my life, and decide to go a different way. Yet even in my unfaithfulness, my God is working.
I remember when I was leading up to accepting Christ as my Savior. I devoured the Bible, God's Word - every free moment. Most of what I was reading I didn't quite understand - but I didn't care. I had to have it!! I kept reading and consuming it like it was air. One day, after I accepted Christ - I came across a situation where I had to open my mouth and deliver God's Word. I remember thinking that I was not prepared, not equipped, that I knew nothing. But to my surprise, months of consuming God's Word poured out of me like rivers of living water!
Yes, God is faithful. Even when we think there is nothing going on - He is at work. So as I tap my foot, my hands, and lean on my chin - watching time pass . . . when I don't even have the energy or quite frankly the desire to do anything else - I know that God is faithful and He is moving and working in me. When I have gained enough energy, when my wounds have healed a little, I will begin to get back up and do, live, move, absorb. But right now, I will hide myself in Him, and let time pass.
Friday, July 3, 2009
No Place Like Home
I've been traveling for the past week. I am definitely homesick and was longing to be in familiar surrroundings.
I'd forgotten how much I absolutely LOVE Atlanta. As the plane came closer to Atlanta, the pilot announced that we were 90 miles outside the city. I looked out the window and there was my love - my city, my home. Even from 90 miles away - I can feel the energy of the city. Even the sun was inviting me, calling me home. It seemed brighter and happier in the South.
Soon I could see downtown, Atlanta's skyline. I could see the houses lined up; all the trees and greenery; the infrastructure and expressways crossing over each other. I imagined the people driving around in their shiny cars going to some meeting to "make things happen," to dream with a business partner and friend; to close a deal; to encourage someone, to pray with someone. Yes, I see this in my city all the time. I feel regularly - people wanting more, dreaming and going for it.
Finally we landed it. As I stepped off the plane the Hotlanta heat and humidity hit me. I could feel my hair cry out in disappointment. But that's okay. I was home and even the humidity didn't put a damper on my excitement to be back in the city of dreams and energy.
My prayer is that all of you have a place like this. Life is so short. We should all love where we call home. If you don't, either make a move or make it a place of love.
I'd forgotten how much I absolutely LOVE Atlanta. As the plane came closer to Atlanta, the pilot announced that we were 90 miles outside the city. I looked out the window and there was my love - my city, my home. Even from 90 miles away - I can feel the energy of the city. Even the sun was inviting me, calling me home. It seemed brighter and happier in the South.
Soon I could see downtown, Atlanta's skyline. I could see the houses lined up; all the trees and greenery; the infrastructure and expressways crossing over each other. I imagined the people driving around in their shiny cars going to some meeting to "make things happen," to dream with a business partner and friend; to close a deal; to encourage someone, to pray with someone. Yes, I see this in my city all the time. I feel regularly - people wanting more, dreaming and going for it.
Finally we landed it. As I stepped off the plane the Hotlanta heat and humidity hit me. I could feel my hair cry out in disappointment. But that's okay. I was home and even the humidity didn't put a damper on my excitement to be back in the city of dreams and energy.
My prayer is that all of you have a place like this. Life is so short. We should all love where we call home. If you don't, either make a move or make it a place of love.
Broken and Bleeding
As I've ministered to many women, I’ve heard a lot about brokenness and being broken. Although God would give me a word for my sisters in Christ, there was a part of me that could not quite relate to the feeling of brokeness. Yes - I'd been hurt, I've been frustrated and experienced different forms of tragedy. But until recently I don’t think I’ve ever experienced brokeness.
There was no specific incident, nor one tragic event. Instead, there were just small cracks, tiny dents in my life that continued to spread, grow and expand. I somehow convinced myself that I could handle the cracks. I was in control. We are never in control. Until I was at a point of brokenness. A broken heart, broken dreams, broken vision, broken spirit.
The pain is so similar to what a physical brokenness would be. You can feel yourself bleeding, emotions pouring out of every crack. Erupting. The blood keeps coming. I try to hide it – put bandaids over it, cover it. But somehow it slips through my fingers. My hands are covered with it – blood. Red. Remnants of my pain. Years of covering, hiding, dealing. I am reminded of Isaiah 61:1. Jesus says He has come to bind the brokenhearted. Ah! It makes so much sense now. I now see why I need Him to bind it. My bandaids, my hands, my tissue cannot stop the bleeding, cannot cover the cracks and dents. Only His bandages, His hands can cover, can heal. Can stop the bleeding
How do you heal a broken heart? How do you heal brokenness? How do you begin to put pieces back together again? I’m still in the process. But first, I know I have to stop the bleeding. I have to run to my Savior and allow Him to find the wounds, the cracks, the dents and put His bandages over them. To touch them. Examine them. Kiss them. Its so painful. Most of my wounds – although there, I don’t want to relive. I almost prefer for them to sit and fester. Just as a child doesn’t want the bandaid removed. But I know healing must come. In order to be free, to live abundantly in Him – I must move myself out of the way and let Him heal my brokenness.
There was no specific incident, nor one tragic event. Instead, there were just small cracks, tiny dents in my life that continued to spread, grow and expand. I somehow convinced myself that I could handle the cracks. I was in control. We are never in control. Until I was at a point of brokenness. A broken heart, broken dreams, broken vision, broken spirit.
The pain is so similar to what a physical brokenness would be. You can feel yourself bleeding, emotions pouring out of every crack. Erupting. The blood keeps coming. I try to hide it – put bandaids over it, cover it. But somehow it slips through my fingers. My hands are covered with it – blood. Red. Remnants of my pain. Years of covering, hiding, dealing. I am reminded of Isaiah 61:1. Jesus says He has come to bind the brokenhearted. Ah! It makes so much sense now. I now see why I need Him to bind it. My bandaids, my hands, my tissue cannot stop the bleeding, cannot cover the cracks and dents. Only His bandages, His hands can cover, can heal. Can stop the bleeding
How do you heal a broken heart? How do you heal brokenness? How do you begin to put pieces back together again? I’m still in the process. But first, I know I have to stop the bleeding. I have to run to my Savior and allow Him to find the wounds, the cracks, the dents and put His bandages over them. To touch them. Examine them. Kiss them. Its so painful. Most of my wounds – although there, I don’t want to relive. I almost prefer for them to sit and fester. Just as a child doesn’t want the bandaid removed. But I know healing must come. In order to be free, to live abundantly in Him – I must move myself out of the way and let Him heal my brokenness.
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