Sanctifying Self-Pity

Sometimes I feel sorry for myself.

And I hate that. (Did I say, "I hate that?" I hate that.)

I have so much to be grateful for, I have NO excuse to wallow in self-pity.

But lately, I've realized something.

If I just let it be what it is and "sit" with it, instead of trying so hard to change it it's so much easier to deal with!

Now, I'm not talking about wallowing in it, but just sitting with it, experiencing it in the moment, instead of railing against it.

Because fighting it just seems to prolong it. Because fighting it makes me grumpy and not nice to people I love and that is so not fair to them. They don't know the battle that's going on in my head. When I kick and scream against it, it's so hard to shake it and it poisons everything.

I definitely believe in "taking every thought captive", but how do you do that? By kicking and screaming against it? Nope. The verse before that says that the weapons we use are not fleshly weapons, but spiritual. It is His divine power.

When I just acknowledge to my Father God: "I really feel like I suck right now. It feels like life sucks right now. I just can't shake this on my own. Help me! I cast this 'care' on You." He says, "It's okay. I know. I see you and I know where you are right now. Everything is going to be okay." 

Really. That's what He said -- not "How dare you be ungrateful for everything I've given you!!!"

I may not "feel" better at that moment, but I have peace. I know it will pass. It always does. I can be patient with myself and that keeps me from being mean and grumpy.

For me, this is a very tangible example of "love others as well as you love yourself." If I'm patient and loving with myself than I can be patient and loving with everyone else.

And if I'm really mindful and honest about it, my "self-pity mode" is usually hormonal--that's a reason, not an excuse. The feeling itself isn't ungodly or sinful, it's what I do with it that makes it unholy.

God is so good and gives so much grace! His mercies are new every morning. I think, knowing this, I might even be able to acknowledge -- outloud -- to another human being, that I'm feeling that way without being worried about what they will think. Acknowledging the pain instead of acting out of it. Hmm...brings to mind a post by Donald Miller I read today: "Vulnerability as a key to emotional health."

I just want to be real. Authentic. Relevant. And I can't do that if I pretend that everything is always wonderful all the time. That kind of mask is a counterfeit Christianity that inoculates people to the true Gospel message.

This song, Rise by Shawn McDonald happened to come on the radio the other day while I was pondering these things. It's one of my favorites. (The link is a "live" acoustic version, those are usually the best!)

Sometimes my heart is on the ground
And hope is nowhere to be found
Love is a figment I once knew
And yet I hold on to what I know is true

Yes I will rise

The Aspostle Paul was a Great Lover

I'm reading a One Year chronological bible this year, so here at the end of the year I'm reading all of Paul's epistles. I've read them many times in my life, but I something different really stood out to me for the first time -- Paul really, really, really loves people.
You can see it throughout every letter. Paul's joy at the faith of the Philippians, his grief at the misunderstanding and misinformation of the Thessalonians and the Galatians. His desire that those who had fallen be restored. His letters are full of longing for his readers to really, truly grasp the love of Christ.

In Philippians 1:7 he tells them, "I have you in my heart." And when he speaks of Epaphroditus in Philippians 2, he says that God had mercy on Epaphroditus, healing him from a near-fatal illness, which Paul considered a mercy to himself as well, "to spare me sorrow upon sorrow."

Paul truly loves these people. It feels like a great big, "duh" in my head. Obviously he loves these people, he's risking his life for them most of the time. He's in chains for them. Gladly. Maybe I'm usually so focused on the "theology" and the "how do I apply this to my life" that I've missed it somehow. But then I'm reminded of Paul's conflict, "If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body.  Convinced of this, I know that I will remain...." (Philippians 1:22-25)

Maybe Paul's great love is in part, because like the woman who anointed Jesus for His burial, Paul had been forgiven so much. His brothers and sisters in Christ, whom he had formerly been hunting and murdering, had forgiven him and embraced him. They had welcomed him (with some understandable hesitancy at first) into the family, into the Body of Christ.

It's funny, I always think of that as "He who is forgiven much, loves much." But that's not what Jesus said. He said, "whoever has been forgiven little loves little."

I know I've been forgiven more than a little. Much more. Really we all have. Even if you have been a "Christian" your entire life, you have been forgiven so much. It's easy to lose sight of that. It's easy to become prideful in our spiritual growth and maturity and forget how much we've been forgiven. We're even forgiven for that -- for that ugly, stinking, disgusting pride in ourselves for being "good Christians." 

Not one of us should be loving little. We should love big. Really big.

(Okay, not like the TV show Big Love, which I've never seen, but suddenly came to mind...I'm not advocating bigamy. Gross.)


For God so loved the world. He sent His only Son. Let us so love. Let us love one another so that's how people know we're Jesus disciples. (The church-at-large seems to be falling so short on that one.)  Let's turn the tide. Like the Apostle Paul, I want be a lover, a great one. How about you?

Book Review: The Grace Effect by Larry Taunton

The Grace Effect is a more than just an adoption story. It is a glimpse into the world of the Ukraine and the results of a culture's elimination of God.



The story of Taunton's family adopting Sasha is sandwiched between the story of his debates with famous atheist, Christopher Hitchens (one of the self-proclaimed "Four Horsemen of the Counter-Apocalypse"). He uses these debates as a way to introduce "the grace effect" in the prologue and then shows us in the epilogue how through Sasha's life, even someone who doesn't believe in the grace effect is touched by it.

He says, "Common grace is that grace which may be enjoyed by believers as well as unbelievers, though the former understand its source." (p. 20) Taunton goes on to define the "grace effect" as "an observable phenomenon -- that life is demonstrably better where authentic Christianity flourishes." (p. 22) But rather than showing us a culture that is benefiting from the grace effect (what most of his readers live with and experience on a daily basis) he uses the completely broken, worldly culture of the Ukraine and specifically the adoption system to demonstrate a country bereft of God and the effects of His grace.

At times, the book seems to become more of a scholarly work and leaves behind the story element. But in the end, the author does a good job of giving the reader a snapshot of the Ukrainian adoption process and its corruption (and the chapter on a brief history of religion in Ukraine is well-written and engaging) and then getting right back into the adoption story.

I believe the author does fulfill his purpose as stated in the prologue: "to make a case for society's need of Christianity's gentling, inspiring, and culturally transforming power."

As you read you will find yourself infuriated at times and inspired at others -- infuriated at the corruption of the Ukrainian adoption process and how it seems to be about everything but the children and inspired at seeing God at work on Sasha and her adoptive family's behalf.

In the end, I can't say its one of my favorite books I've ever read, but I enjoyed it. I expected it to make me want to adopt a child from the Ukraine, it did not. But I guess that was not the author's purpose. So I can't quite put my finger on why I wouldn't "highly" recommend the book, but it's a good read, especially if you have an interest in adoption stories or in Christian apologetics.

 Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255 : “Guides Concerning the Use of Endorsements and Testimonials in Advertising.”

Keep Your Eyes Open

Last week as we headed west on a little road trip, we had the privilege of enjoying this amazing sunset (which was really way better than the picture suggests--the clouds were lit up). Scenes like that, beauty like that, just does something in my heart. It moves me.

So as I drove I pondered beauty. What makes something beautiful? Is it the contrast to what is ugly? Is it simply being "not-ugly" that makes it beautiful? Is it a certain combination of light and color or notes and instruments or eyes and nose?

I'm not sure there is ultimately a way to qualify or quantify beauty. Yes, we do it all the time. Science has determined what proportions make a face most attractive and critics can tell us why a particular piece of art or music is beautiful. We often compare and contrast things to explain what we see as beautiful, but is all that really what determines something (or someone's) beauty? What I see as beautiful may not appear to be beautiful to you.

Just like Truth, beauty moves our hearts. When we're living in the present moment and see something beautiful, it just moves us, no explanation necessary. There is no need for the contrast of ugliness to see that something is beautiful. In fact, there is beauty to be found in even the ugliest scene, thing, place, or person -- because somewhere, somehow, God is there. His beauty is always there to be found if we only have eyes to see.

When we see something beautiful we often want to capture it, thinking that we can hold on to that moment, to that particular sensation of beauty. But the memory, the picture is never quite the same. But the cool thing is, there's always more beauty to be found when we let one moment of beauty go and keep moving forward with open eyes and open hearts.

Beautiful Things

Finally making the decision to really, for real, write a blog has done something in me. Somehow, in making that decision, I gave my loving Heavenly Father access to a portion of my heart that He's been waiting to get to for a very long time.

I wouldn't say I purposely held back that part -- not from Him, anyway. But for far too long I've kept a small part of myself closely guarded.

From the time I quit thinking boys were "icky" until I decided I didn't care if I never got married (of course that's when God brought my husband. I can imagine Him saying to Jesus, "Hey, did you hear what Kelli just said? Watch this!") I pretty much always had a boyfriend, or at least a boy I was pursuing. My first kiss was around the age of 12, I think, and as the years went by what I was willing to give up to a boy became more and more until I eventually gave up the ultimate prize. More than once. More than twice. Not as many times, as some, maybe, but one time outside of marriage is one time too many.

Oftentimes, I was the aggressor. I remember one boyfriend in particular who was such a sweet, tenderhearted guy. He did not want to do that to me, but I pretty much forced the issue. Why? Why would I do that to him, to myself?

I certainly didn't understand why at the time, and I repented often, swearing, of course, to never do it again. And I think like many young people,  I believed that as long as actual intercourse wasn't involved it was okay. But it wasn't, and it's not. It's still giving something away, giving away pieces of yourself to someone who isn't fully committed to you for life. Losing little bits of yourself to someone who isn't ready to handle those pieces with the love and value they require.

Shortly after Bob and I were married, we were in a Sunday School class that was based on the book, The Blessing by John Trent and Gary Smalley. For the first time, I understood that a big part of the reason I had behaved the way I did was because of the lack of my father in my life. I love my dad and we have an awesome relationship now, but due to divorce and mental illness, he just wasn't in the day to day of my life growing up. I finally understood the reason I had such a craving for male affection. I was "looking for love in all the wrong places"!

At that point in my life, I *knew* that Father God had forgiven me, but understanding the why finally gave me the power to forgive myself. The guilt and shame still haunted me though. Over the years I just got better at choosing not to be affected by it, but the deep wound was still there.

Until now.

Finally letting my words out has reopened that wound. That surrendering has finally allowed Father God to get to that place and start healing it -- making it new. I can no longer live with choosing to ignore it, He's doing what He does and making me whole again.

Since the Holy Spirit was finally able to talk to me about it I finally understood why it still hurt. It hurt me that I had valued myself so little that I would just give myself away like that. It hurt that I thought I was worthless. And I realized the enemy has been using that against me for years. It's always been there, behind the scenes of my life, coloring my story. Deep down, I felt worthless.

So right now it's very raw, tender, and painful, but God has taken that part of my heart and is making Beautiful Things out of it. He is so good.

Thanksgiving and Gratitude

The last few days, I've been pondering the words, "thanksgiving" and "gratitude." (For obvious reasons.) Are they synonyms, or is there a difference between "giving thanks" and "being grateful"?

I'm a big fan of dictionary.com, so of course, I looked them up and confirmed that what I had been thinking was pretty much true. "Thanksgiving" is an action and "gratitude" is an attitude. That may sound like a very simple difference, but without one, you probably will not have the other, at least not authentically. They work together. Just as "faith without works is dead",  gratitude without the expression of thanksgiving becomes stagnant and cold. And thanksgiving expressed without a heart full of gratitude is just noise. It may not be apparent to anyone but you and your Father God, but your words will sound lifeless and hollow in your own ears.

When Sarah Ban Brethnach's book, Simple Abundance, became wildly popular "gratitude" became a big buzzword in our culture. It was the "in" thing to keep a gratitude journal. I think many people are still reaping the benefits of that today, but let's not take it for granted. Gratitude is a choice. We can choose to be grateful regardless of our circumstances, and out of that choice our thanksgiving will flow.

Jesus said, "Out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks." When our hearts are full of gratitude, our words will be full of thanksgiving.

And you know what the really cool thing is? Not only can we make the choice, but we have been empowered to make it. God gives us all the strength and all the grace we need to do it. It is simply a matter of turning. That's what repentance is, it's just a turning away from one thing toward another.

If I'm in a deep, dark place of self-pity and ingratitude (and oh yes, I've been there) it can seem like the most difficult, impossible thing in the world In fact, sometimes I just don't WANT TO! But my Father God is loving and patient and kind. His kindness brings me to repentance and the moment I decide to quit wallowing in my own filth, He is there. It's so simple, it seems to good to be true. But it is. It's true.

Trust is not a 4-Letter Word

So why do I so often act as if it is?

Proverbs 3: 5-6 says, "Trust God from the bottom of your heart; don't try to figure out everything on your own. Listen for God's voice in everything you do, everywhere you go; he's the one who will keep you on track." (The Message) Other translations say, "He will make your paths straight."

If I put my trust in my loving Heavenly Father, I can't go wrong. He will keep me on track. But what's even more amazing, is that even when I'm not trusting Him He is still at work bringing His will to pass in my life. My lack of trust in Him doesn't stop His work. He is the same same yesterday, today, and forever. There is no shadow of turning in Him. He just keeps moving forward. He continues to keep the universe in motion, including my tiny, little (but not insignificant) place in it.

Who am I to think that my distrust could disrupt God's work? I love chapter 38 through 41 of the Book of Job, when goes goes on a wild, wonderful, put-Job-in-his-place rant and says things like, "Where were you when I created the earth?" and "Do you have an arm like my arm? Can you shout in thunder the way I can?"

This song, "Starry Night" by Chris August has been running around in my head for the last couple of days. "Every starry night, that was His design..."

So much about this journey is about letting go. It's about letting go of my desire to eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good & Evil and judge myself, my circumstances, my friends, my family, even my God. It's about letting go of expectations and have-tos and shoulds and embracing the abundant life Jesus' death provided for me by eating from the Tree of Life and trusting that God's got it. To borrow a phrase my daughter has been fond of lately, God has "ALL THE THINGS!"

He is Everything. I put all my trust in that. He has "all the things" -- all the things I need for life and godliness.

Selah.