The Comfort of Offense

Teenage girl disaster survivorHave you ever wondered why, after forgiving someone, the thought of them, the sound of their voice, the mere mention of their name can set off a chain reaction of negative emotion and stinking thinking ad nauseum? Sometimes, it can get to the point of having conversations in your head … you know the kind … the things you wished you would have thought of when you were first offended. The kind of conversations where they never get a word in and you are always the victor … oh, and you have some doozies ready – just in case. If we’re being honest, we’ve all been there, haven’t we? We have all planned out our vengeful little schemes in our fantasy world. Oh sure, we forgive, but there is no way we’re going to forget. We can’t! It’s just not wise … they may do it again. For some people, the down side of forgiving and forgetting is that  you can’t stack up the incidents of offense against you if you’ve forgotten them. Forgetting those offenses would mean that everyone who has ever hurt you gets a clean slate each time. Preposterous!

Listen, let’s be clear. I’m not talking about the the guy in the elevator who steps on our new Manolo Blahniks. He didn’t mean it. He apologized profusely. Besides, he’s a guy, what does he know about shoes. It’s not like we have a relationship with him. Hating this guy would be a waste of energy….right?

I’m talking about when our best friend divulges one of our most embarrassing secrets publicly at a gathering.We get angry, hurt, embarrassed, maybe even mortified! We try and shake it off; we rationalize about why she did it … too much wine perhaps? She later approaches us with her head held down in shame – she’s betrayed a confidence and ridiculed the one person she loves most in the world. She’s too ashamed to even expect forgiveness. We forgive her, but secretly we tell ourselves, “I’ll never forget what she did to me. I’ll never get over that humiliation.” And we don’t.

Each time we see her, things seem a little more back to normal. We feel magnanimous about our ability to forgive. What a good friend we are to forgive that kind of indiscretion.

Months pass by and we have another secret. We’re about to call her when we remember what we promised ourselves. We said we’d never forget! We forgave her, but the wound never quite healed. Every time the opportunity to prove to her that we really did forgive her came along, we picked at the scab and it bled. After a few years, though the scab finally healed, there remained an indentation – a scar. This is the place where the pain lives and thrives – where the pain has become a monument to what once was a flourishing friendship. We re-hash and re-hash until the offense has taken on a life of its own – it’s called unforgiveness. Our life, the one we once knew – the vibrancy of life – has been ebbing away. We are slowly being gobbled up in a bed of quicksand. Everything we do to rescue ourselves only sinks us deeper in the mire.

We think that if we allow ourselves to forget the past, we are condoning it. That is not the case. Erecting a monument to pain is a slow suicide. After a while, people don’t want to be around the person who is always rehashing the same old same old. It’s unhealthy. It’s like drinking a poison tonic and expecting everyone to take a sip. We end up hurting ourselves more than that friend originally hurt us and we blame it on the very person we said we forgave.

Eventually, we’ve done such an outstanding job of never letting anyone forget we’ve been offended that people know our stories by heart. Some of them actually begin to feel sorry for us and that – pity – is the anchor of offense. That is what perpetuates the pain and gives it life.

So, we meet some one new. A new friend. We have a lot in common. But there is something about her that we just can’t put our finger on. Maybe she sounds like, looks like, or has a habit like our old friend. Suddenly, everyone we meet who reminds us of the pain we’ve been tending to will end up making us run our fingers over that spot again. We don’t even know what’s happening. At some point, we might even become so hypersensitive about our own pain that we don’t even recognize when we do the same thing to others – we become self-centred. We take comfort in our pain. It becomes a blanket that keeps us warm when we no longer trust anyone else.

Forgiving without forgetting is like trying to strain play dough through a colander. It isn’t meant to be. I’m not saying it’s easy. I confess to you that I have stacked upon stacks of many offenses that I have nurtured over the years but you know something, it is bloody exhausting and leads to physical, emotional and spiritual illness of untold proportion. We can’t do this alone. It’s much bigger than we are. We need to realize first all that we have been forgiven for – our indiscretions and our sins – wiped clean as far as the east is from the west.

Forgiving and forgetting is not something we do for others, we do it first for ourselves to restore our health, our sanity, and primarily to maintain and grow in our relationship with God.

“But if you do not forgive others their trespasses [their reckless and wilful sins, leaving them, letting them go, and giving up resentment], neither will your Father forgive you your trespasses.”  Matt. 6:15 AMP.

Autopilot

Pilots in the cockpitNot all planes have autopilot installed and not all pilots use autopilot. As a matter of fact, there are some pilots who feel that using autopilot is detrimental to one’s “hands on” skills, and so they gladly log in all those hours faithful to their craft in the manner in which they were taught. They enjoy it.

Some pilots however recognize that autopilot affords them more attentiveness and time to deal with Air Traffic Control and watch for air traffic. Using autopilot does not necessarily result in the neglect of flying skills because it’s not just a switch that is engaged so the pilot can sit back and relax. The pitch, roll, heading and altitude must be set prior to engaging the autopilot. Proficiency in the transition from hands-on to autopilot is only acquired after training and much practice. In any case – practice and dedication of time is an investment all pilots have to make.

Sadly however, autopilot doesn’t seem to work the same way when it comes to relationships. Most relationships fall prey to the autopilot. The problem is that most often, the time, effort and energy is not reinvested into most relationships.

Suddenly, the urgency to hurry home to the love of our life has become frequently delayed by running errands. In times past, there were no pecks on the cheek – there was eye contact and a full embrace. “How was your day?” was responded to with more than a one syllable answer. Enjoying a spontaneous evening out with a friend is now scheduled and rescheduled and sometimes rescheduled.  Children tug at our pant legs – hoping we will look directly into their eyes and listen to them speak an entire sentence before ending it for them because frankly, it’s been a long day and maybe Mom or Dad had their fill listening to whining colleagues all day.

Once upon a time even a treasured few minutes was worth any amount of effort; other activities and priorities have all but snuffed out what once fueled the desire to engage in our relationships. We seem to have it all backward. As a dear friend used to often say to me, “Time isn’t something you have, it’s something you make.”

There is one relationship that should be held in reverence high and above all others. In fact, without this relationship – all others will succumb to autopilot and will likely crash and burn. There is one, One, who desires above all else to be pursued as if life itself depended on it … and if you really think about it … a full and abundant life actually does depend on it.

“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.’” Jeremiah 29:11-13.

Time isn’t something you have, it’s something you make.

Let Your Love Out

love boxRecently, a friend and I were having a heartfelt talk when suddenly she said, “Let your love out, Hope.”  Hmm, I thought to myself, what have I been doing up to now? What does it say about you, or your capacity to love when your friends think you’re holding back during a heart-to-heart discussion no less? I was all in, at least I thought I was. I felt that annoying little lump in my throat when I started getting really personal, but … ahem … I choked that down pretty quick …. Oooooh, now I get it!

Do you have anyone in your life with whom you can just uncork the fermenting emotions you have bottled up so well? I thought I was free of that need to control how deep I allowed myself to go, and I thought I was being pretty authentic; looks like not everyone was in agreement. There is nothing, nothing more important than love and I am often reminded that it does more harm than good to suppress it.

Honestly, I detest thinking that I’m like one of those bottles of aged wine you think you’re about to have a nice glass of when suddenly, you end up pushing the cork down too far! What is it that seems to drive that cork further down with age? Past experience perhaps? Fear?

I recently spent the day with two of my favourite little girls. There we were – sitting together, bird watching, drawing with pastels and chatting – outside of my own head, outside of my fears – I was completely present with Carla and Ané – completely present, living in the moment – and loving them as if there was no risk involved…because there was not.

So, what is it about spending time with adults that make some of us hold back – living in the regret or trauma of the past – living in fear of more of the same in the future? Don’t think for a minute that children don’t get their feelings hurt. Don’t think for a minute that their little hearts don’t get broken from time to time. Don’t think for a minute that the people they love most in the world have never done wrong by them; I have children – I’ve seen them hurting. The difference between child-like love and loving as a adult is the dwelling factor. Children don’t dwell on the past and certainly don’t look at the past as a threat to their future. Children love with all they have. That’s why Yeshua (Jesus) told people that being child-like in love is the only way to greatness (spiritual and earthly success):

3 “Truly I say to you, unless you repent (change, turn about) and become like little children [trusting, lowly, loving, forgiving], you can never enter the kingdom of heaven [at all]. 4 Whoever will humble himself therefore and become like this little child [trusting, lowly, loving, forgiving] is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.” Matt. 18:3-4 Amp.

I have an abundance of love inside me. It takes up a lot of room and sometimes I’m sure that cork just wants to pop off, but I unknowingly keep pushing it down. Then, there are times – like when I’m with Carla and Ané – it just leaks out. It’s bigger than I am. True greatness and success is to let it out freely, without reservation, without judgment, without fear, without almighty pride holding us back.

The thing about loving adults is that there is always the possibility that you’ll be hurt or rejected, but that is never reason enough to hold it back. Children love the way God loves … unconditionally …. with no agenda … no owzies… and they do it fearlessly. It’s so important that Yeshua said it 5 times in the Gospel of John. “This is My commandment: that you love one another [just] as I have loved you.” John 15:12 AMP.

If you’re afraid of being hurt or rejected, chances are you’re afraid of loving. The truth is, if you haven’t already, you will be hurt, but you won’t die from it. Let your love out – it’s commanded of you.

An Attitude of Gratitude During A Pit Stop

??????????????A pit can be a hole, a grave, a feeling in the bottom of your belly – or it can be a place of refreshment – like in race car driving – the pit is where the drivers pull in to be refreshed and to have their vehicles refueled and repaired. But we certainly don’t think that way about our pits, do we?

When you find yourself in a pit, do you look at it as a place of refreshing and reparation, a place of being refreshed?

A pit is a place of trial and testing that God has pre-ordained whether it is directly from Him or He permits it. He gives us tests and trials. They are gifts, though we don’t always see the gift because we, if we are honest with ourselves, we are rarely Kingdom-minded.

The purpose of a trial is not to take away from you; it’s to add to you. God’s economy is about abundance and provision not lack and need.

He doesn’t live inside us because He has nowhere better to go. He lives there to make Himself known to us intimately. From Him, through Him and in Him are all things. That is a kingdom mindset.

We cannot be believers, disciples, or ambassadors of Yeshua and allow the people watching us, see us living anything but as Kingdom dwellers here on earth, especially when we’re in the pit. We can’t lead anyone from a pit without an attitude of gratitude.

Our tests and trials are given to us to lead us into a path of growth – into a fresh anointing of the Spirit for the glory of Jehovah.

When we go through trials we are meant to be learning how to walk with God and submit ourselves to Him by sitting at the feet of His throne, by listening to Him – to His plans, to learn His ways of thinking especially in regard to our relationship with Him.

The spiritual sitting at His feet takes place before His throne; from time to time, the physical sitting takes place in a pit. But this should come as no surprise to us. “A servant is not greater than his master.” John 15:20. Should we live an easier life than Yeshua?

A time in the pit is a “pit stop” it’s not a “pit stay”. If you begin in the pit from a faithless perspective, your situation will not end well. If you begin from a place of trust and gratitude you will end the way God planned it to end.

The first words we have to speak when we find ourselves in a pit are found in: Psalm 103:1-5

“Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And forget none of His benefits;
Who pardons all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases; Who redeems your life from the pit,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion;
Who satisfies your years with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle.”

When we bless Him, He blesses us and we can be fruitful and bless others.

Rescued

I could not speak, though much to say,

Words failed . . . thoughts assailed.

Who would I tell anyway?

 

My pride, my heart, the hurt . . . I wailed.

I knelt. I cried. I tried to pray.

No matter what – I tried and failed.

 

Left to feel . . . alone . . . untouched

Choking on my tears . . . undone,

A single strand of faith I clutched.

 

Knowing many . . . known by none

By The Father’s love was touched,

And hope rescued by the Holy One.

 

Believing is Seeing

eye

Have you ever heard someone say, “You won’t believe this until you see it for yourself!”? I’ve been incredulous countless of times having been expected to believe without proof of having first seen. I’ve always been a sceptic and a cynic.

With this in mind, I know that only the hand of God could have touched me to open my spiritual eyes to allow me to first believe what I could not see. As He would have it, it was in those few moments of surrender that He healed my spiritual blindness and opened the eyes of my heart.

The very things that frustrated me, that kept me from seeing Him were the very things He used, and still uses, to glorify Himself through my testimony. God knit me together as a very logical and practical woman, but He also made me a person of intense sensitivity. These things, once my own personal stumbling blocks, He now uses as stepping stones.

Many of us have been asked the hard questions: How can you believe in something, or someone, you’ve never seen? If God is loving and kind, how can He allow so much tragedy in the world? Isn’t the Bible just a bunch of stories made up by a bunch of religious men? In all candour, these are some of the questions I have, at one time or another, asked myself. I can only answer this way: I know what I know. I now believe based on testimony – mine, that of others, and that of Yeshua, (Jesus) Himself – the Living Word.

I know who I used to be and I see who I am now – because I believed. I see who I am now and I see who I am going to be – because I believe. God took a hardened heart and softened it. God took an empty heart and filled it. He took an incomplete person and made her whole. He used the logical and practical things of this world and made them look foolish while opening up to me the wise and spiritual things of His world. Seeing isn’t believing; believing is seeing.

“One thing I do know. I was blind but now I see!” John 9:25.

The Name You Gave Me

HopeI saw you leaning over the bulbs you had just planted. Your hands caressed the soil as if it was velvet. A drop of sweat fell from your brow. The rose pushed through the soil and bloomed beneath your gaze. It reached up and kissed you. You sat down and began to speak. I wondered, as I watched in awe, to whom were you speaking. You seemed filled with joy; I wanted what you had. My gaze was fixed upon you.

You sat in the dirt and leaned back against the fence as you reached for a mason jar filled with water. You looked refreshed as you quenched your thirst. The late morning sun began to blaze upon you – the rose looked weary though it had not toiled as you had. You removed a handful of seeds from your pocket and put them in your mouth then spit them to the ground. Each seed took root before my very eyes. Sunflowers grew immediately providing shade and shelter for you and the rose. Your mason jar in hand, you poured the left over water around the rose. The roots drank it up; the rose bloomed. You smiled and began to speak again. Who were you speaking to? As if at your command, your empty jar replenished itself with cool water. If I hadn’t seen it, I would have never believed it.

One after another, roses of differing colours began to sprout around you. You began to draw in the dirt;  writing something perhaps. I was watching from a distance, marveled by this power you possessed; humbled by your dedication to the seeds you had sown. Every seed grew up strong in your presence. My curiosity drew me closer to you. I quietly inched my way closer to see what you had drawn in the sand  – you hadn’t drawn at all – you had written something. I stepped on a dry twig; you looked in my direction. I felt as if you could see through the shrubs I was using as a veil – as if you could see right through me. The sun began to peak in the sky. I was hot, afraid to move, afraid you would discover me, frightened that you could see into the very depth of my soul – where nothing grew. My heart pounded in my chest in anticipation of what was to come – what might be – if I would surrender.

You closed your eyes and picked up the mason jar, pouring water into the palm of your hand and then you blew, ever so gently, into your hand. My breath was taken away. The tiniest droplets of water began to fall upon me. It wasn’t rain; it was more like a refreshing mist. The flowers seemed to be moving closer, bowing their blossoms as if to read what you had written in the dirt. You smiled and looked up into the crystal blue sky and the flowers began to sing. They sang in harmony but from where did the music come? I don’t know how I knew, but I just knew the music was coming from your heart. I thought to myself, if I were to live but a moment more could it be in your arms? Your head slowly turned toward me as if to answer my request. You held out your arm – your spirit hearkened to mine, “Come.” Suddenly I knew that I was yours – that you had come for me – that we could be separated no more. It was predestined; I had always been yours. My clothes became brilliant as the sun. As I drew near to you, you seemed to draw near to me, but you had not moved. You reached for my hand and when we touched I tingled from the inside out. You looked through my eyes into my soul and I knew I was pure, I was beautiful. I felt your grip tighten every so slightly – you didn’t even have to speak. I looked down at what you had written in the soil. My heart leapt in my bosom. I was filled with knowledge and understanding. You had written the name of your betrothed – the love of your heart, the lover of your soul – it was my name…Hope, the name you gave me, a desire for you that you had planted within my soul from the beginning. You left the garden, but you stayed with me always and forever. You established my roots firmly; you gave me rest. You gave me shelter and my jar shall always be full.