HOPE

Desires of My Heart

2012-03-11T16:01:00.001-04:00

Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart. Psalm 37:4 (NIV)

I don't know about you, but my heart has been a mess. Broken, damaged, chocked full of holes and missing pieces. No, this didn't happen in a single event. This damage to my heart was not done by acts of physical, verbal or emotional abuse. No, my heart started breaking long before.

My heart started breaking when I was much younger. And as I embarked on a quest, I started the process of its brokenness.

For so much of my life, I had an emptiness in me that I longed so desperately to fill with love, so when a young man showered me with attention, I quickly took out a piece of my heart and gave it away. My heart then had a missing piece. And sadly, the type of attention the young girl me received in exchange for my heart, began to crack the remaining pieces.

Years passed by, relationships and even marriages came and went, and I continued to give away those pieces of my heart in the hopes to fill that aching desire to be loved. And with each failed attempt, I was left with more gaping holes in heart. With so many missing pieces, the remains of my heart grew more and more fragile, until finally, with my last ugly marriage, my heart completely shattered. Crushed to dust with no hope of repair.

I resigned myself to the fact that I would never be cherished, valued, and loved unconditionally by a man--particularly a husband. I would never be a man's beautiful bride, to be romanced, seen as breathtakingly beautiful and swept off my feet until death do us part. No man would ever love me for all that I am. Just as I am. I gave up on that driving desire of my heart and let it die. At least that's what I told myself.

Oh, the healing that has happened in my life these last four years. Only Jesus was able to work His way into the hole that once was my heart, picking up those pieces of my heart and putting them back in place.

And for quite some time now, I have felt whole. My relationship with Christ has taught me to love and value myself. To see myself as beautiful in all that I am. Just as I am. I know that in Christ, I am cherished, valued and loved unconditionally. My heart had been restored. Healed. Loved. I didn't need romance and sweeping off my feet, right? I knew I no longer reflected on those desires of my heart. They were long gone.

Until today.

I understood the meaning of the song Wedding Day on the level it was intended.

"Casting Crowns frontman Mark Hall explained the song's meaning 'It's rare to hear a modern song discuss such grand eschatological themes as the Rapture of the Church and the Second Coming of Christ, but that's exactly what 'Wedding Day' describes—meeting Jesus in the sky. The Bible refers to the Church as the Bride of Christ and describes the Marriage Supper of the Lamb. When I pictured that imagery and remembered that Paul says we are an adulterous people who go our own way and do our own thing, I realized we are cheating on Jesus. We need to look upon our relationship with Christ for what it is—a union that should remain holy and undefiled.

'Wedding Day' anticipates the thrill of reveling in the presence of God as the Bride of Christ. And while we may look like a motley bunch right now—muddling through this sin-stained world and battling our flesh and the wiles of the devil—we are promised that when we stand before him we will be clothed in his righteousness. Though the Bride knows she's undeserving and bears the shame of her history, this worn and weary maiden is not the bride that he sees. She wears white head to toe, and, praise the Lord, only he could make it so.'"

Yet, for a woman who had resolved she would never play the role of a cherished, valued bride here on earth, this song touched me in a place that I thought I'd let die. Listening over and over, tears began streaming down my face. Not because of feelings of loss, regret, or longing for something I would never experience with a man. No, I was crying because I was being romanced by the one who loves me so desperately and will never leave nor forsake me.

Talk about sweet talk! Here I was, the most beautiful bride dressed all in white listening to love professed by my hero, my King! He told me how He had fought for those broken pieces of my heart and won them back from dust. I would be His for all time. And as He told me these things, His love for me was written all over His face. Looking up at Him through my tears, He told me these are last tears I would ever cry and He gently wiped them away. Ya'll, I can't tell you how this touched me. This was so much better than The Notebook and even Pretty Woman. And it was happening to ME!

I always knew I loved Jesus, but in that moment, I realized I not only loved him, but I had just fallen completely, totally IN love with him. He had swept me into His arms and spoken words of love and life back into my heart.

I had thought I'd been healed. Yet in fact, I didn't realize I was still broken until Jesus put last piece of my heart, its desire, back into place.

Wedding Day

There's a stirring in the throne room

And all creation holds its breath
Waiting now to see the bride groom
Wondering how the bride will dress
And she wears white
And she knows that she's undeserving
She bears the shame of history
But this worn and weary maiden
Is not the bride that he sees
And she wears white, head to toe
But only he could make it so

[Chorus:]
When someone dries your tears
When someone wins your heart
And says your beautiful
When you don't know you are
And all you've longed to see
Is written on his face
When love has come and finally set you free
On that wedding day
On that wedding day

[Verse 2:]
She has danced in golden castles
And she has crawled through beggar's dust
But today she stands before him
And she wears his righteousness
And she will be who he adores
This is what he made her for

[Bridge:]
When the hand that bears the only scars
And heaven touch her face
And the last tears she'll ever cry
Are finally wiped away
And the clouds roll back as he takes her hand
And walks her through the gates
Forever we will reign

Pure Delight

2012-03-07T11:55:00.003-05:00

The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.

Zephaniah 3:17 (NIV)

I must make a confession.

I watched someone.
Not quite stalking them, but more like spying on someone without their knowledge.
And in this instance, simply standing back and observing gave me a priceless gift.

I watched my daughter playing on the playground during recess.

She didn’t know I was watching her from a far. She was simply playing. Squealing. Running, jumping and throwing a ball. She was dancing, twirling and spinning and giggling. She was hiding and she was seeking. She was simply being her three year old, beautiful self.

And oh, my heart almost burst with love just to watch her BE.

I could have stood there all day. Delighting in her.
No, she wasn’t putting on a show or doing things just to get her mother’s stamp of approval. She didn’t even know I was there. She wasn’t giving to get something in return.
And likewise, I wasn’t trying to get something from her in return. I didn’t need a pick me up. I didn’t need her to brighten my day, but just her mere existence, brought me tremendous joy. I delighted in her.

You probably know this feeling, don’t you? As parents, this is how we love. We can watch our children sleep, sing over them without their knowlege, and our hearts ache with love.
But as I turned away from watching my precious girl laugh and play and headed back to work, the thought pricked my heart:
“Isn’t this how I love you, Michelle?”

God spelled it all out for me. In a language that as a parent I could finally understand.
You see, I’d never been able to wrap my head around God’s love, grace and mercy. I’ve never been able to grasp how God could love me just as I am, exactly where I am, with no regard to what I’ve been or done. I needed to make up for the things I’d done wrong. I needed to always be perfect and earn my father’s love. I needed to put on a show for him to take notice of me. And if I made a mistake, the love would stop.

But with my heart swelling with love and delighting in my tiny little spitfire of a girl, I asked myself:
Do I stop loving her if she’s naughty or flat out disobedient? Of course not!
Does she owe me something? Do I withhold my love from her, waiting for her to “make things up to me” if she’s done wrong? Never!
Do I discipline her, guide her if she’s erred, and love her through it all? Absolutely!

“Isn’t this how I love you, Michelle?”

And the pieces fell into place.

Restored

2012-02-12T16:30:00.001-05:00

Funny the feelings or troubles you can work out when you lose yourself in a task or some sort of hobby. For me, painting puts everything in its place. I solve my problems. I attend a therapy session. I see situations with complete clarity after a few hours of painting. Hey, let me set up a studio in the White House and let's see what happens!

With this latest self portrait, I have felt a huge sense of closure regarding the experiences that left me broken three and half short years ago in August of 2008. I was broken by a man, my husband, when he tried to kill me. My marriage was broken. My family was broken. My trust in anyone was broken. My self esteem and value was also broken. An act of violence by someone who vowed to love and cherish me broke me.

"Through his Eyes"
9-08

"Broken"
9-08

But these last few years have been full of healing in so many ways. And this past fall, as I started a new Bible Study, my introductory session prayer request was, "God, restore my heart and allow me to trust again. God, make my heart whole so that I can allow people into my life and my heart. Please, Lord, restore me."

And here I am. In the present. The cloud of grief and hurt that I lived in for three years lifted several months ago. The anger and bitterness regarding my betrayal is gone. I find myself always living in the moment, never second guessing my decisions nor my feelings. And it's a good place to be.

So, this latest painting represents closure, but there is more. I've repainted that broken self portrait of three years ago. Now, there is a whole heart. Restored. Healed in a sense that I am no longer afraid to trust and let someone see and hear my real heart. Maybe that means I'm even ready to risk a re-breaking of my heart!

To all who mourn in Israel, he will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair. In their righteousness, they will be like great oaks that the LORD has planted for his own glory. Isaiah 61:3 (NLT)

A Match Like Joseph

2012-01-01T18:01:00.000-05:00

I have decided, after nearly three and a half years of singleness, to try dating again. It is time. Putting my profile on a dating website made me do a bit of soul searching regarding what I was wanted in a man. I don't think I am too terribly picky.

MM's Man Criteria:
Loves Jesus.
At least 6 feet tall. A full set of teeth.
Can cook. (Because I can't)
Honest. Not a drug addict. No criminal record.
Quick wit. Funny. Not a mama's boy.
Correct grammar. (Yep, folks. That's my deal breaker)

That's it. Easy to find someone like that, huh?

But afer reading profile after profile, and receiving email after email, my criteria started to change a bit. I am not willing to settle for just any self proclaimed Jesus lover. Yes, I still want this man to have a full set of teeth and he has to use correct grammar, but what character traits should he really embody? Who do I know that I could liken this mystery man to?

Today sitting in church, my mind was wandering and musing about what type of person I desire to share my life with. I was also making mental lists to take down Christmas decorations and nativity scenes. (Funny how your thoughts get scrambled together and the light bulb goes off.) Because just then it struck me that I would like the man I walk through life with with to be a man like Joseph. You know the Joseph I'm talking about. The Joseph of Mary and baby Jesus. Away in a Manger? Yep, that Joseph.

Most of us, church goers or not, know the Christmas story. We hear lot about the mother and child. But have you ever really thought about the man Joseph?

Put yourself in hi shoes for a moment. You're engaged to be married and your fiancée leaves to go hang out with some relatives for a few months. She comes back and she needs to talk. She says she's pregnant. Oh, and it gets worse. She says an angel told her she would give birth to, get this, the Son of God! (Luke 1:30-35)

What would YOU do? Tell her to hit the road? Call the nearest mental hospital? Never speak to her again and write her and the love you shared off as a mistake? Would you take your hurt a step further and bad mouth her to your friends and neighbors?

I am sure Joseph was hurt and confused and I seriously doubt he bought into Mary's fantastic tale of carrying the Messiah. But the Bible tells us because Joseph her husband was a righteous man and did not want to expose her to public disgrace, he had in mind to divorce her quietly. (Matt 1:19, NIV)

Although, in his mind, she had been unfaithful, and was quite possibly off her rocker, Joseph showed her grace. He was kind to her. Sensitive enough to her and her safety that he did not shame her and expose her to public disgrace and, quite possibly, death by stoning for being an adulteress. Joseph thought he'd solved the problem on his own by sending her away. He demonstrated integrity and honor. He was doing the morally right thing. But the one thing he didn't do was consult God for His will. (I didn't say he was perfect! Plus, I know Joseph wasn't the first nor the last righteous person ever guilty of setting a plan in motion before getting down on his knees to seek God's approval.)

So, God sent a messenger. An angel to speak to Joseph in his dream. Joseph, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife; for the Child who has been conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit. She will bear a Son; and you shall call His name Jesus, for He will save His people from their sins....And Joseph awoke from his sleep and did as the angel of the Lord commanded him, and took Mary as his wife, but kept her a virgin until she gave birth to a Son; and he called His name Jesus. (Matt 1:20-25 NIV)

Again I ask, what would you do? Wait for a second opinion? This was after all just a dream. Surely, he must be mistaken.

Facing adversity, public shame, and humiliation, Joseph obeyed the Lord without question and married her. Even without allowing himself a sexual relationship with his own wife until the baby was born. Can we say self control? Patience? And add to this, Joseph's first born son wasn't really his biological son. Yet, he made the choice to raise this child as his own. He sacrificed some of his own desires for the sake of this wife and child.

Bottom line: Joseph has been chosen. Handpicked by God to be Mary's husband and to be the earthly father of Jesus Christ our Savior. Joseph didn't run from his calling. He didn't make excuses, procrastinate, or hide hoping someone else might take his place. He chose to be with Mary, because he listened to and obeyed God.

I can't imagine the leap of faith it took for Joseph to answer this call for his life.

Yet, weren't these righteous, noble qualities why he was God's choice for Christ's earthly father? That whole nature and nurture concept worked twofold, and I am sure young Jesus learned a lot of character traits from his earthly father!

Joseph was quite the man. And I have decided, I would like to share my life one that is a lot like him.
So here goes.

MM's New and Improved Man Criteria:
Loves the Lord. Attuned to God's voice to lead his life.
Righteous. Maintains integrity.
Obedient to God even if the price of obedience means adversity or humiliation.
Able to take risks for Christ.
Honest. Practices patience and self control. Able to sacrifice self for Christ.
Treats me (and others) with kindness, caring, respect and grace.

Capable of unconditional love.

Protector.
A good father. Can be a father to a child that he did not conceive and can be entrusted by God to raise this child with love.
Loves me because of the relationship he has with God.
And lastly, unshakeable faith.

*And yes, he still has to have all his teeth, be funny, extremely smart and of course, use good grammar. And like Joseph, hopefully he will attentively listen to me tell him the most nonsensical, fantastic story and not think I'm too terribly crazy.

Wish me luck, ya'll!

Delight yourself in the LORD and he will give you the desires of your heart. (Psalm 37:4, NIV)

Candlelight

2011-10-28T13:11:00.000-04:00

The beginning.
Candlelight. Christmas Eve. Beautiful music. Church service.
Love at first sight.

One Valentine’s Day. One Easter. One Christmas.
Till death do us part. One year and fourteen days.
The façade of unconditional, undying love melting like my plastic smile.

Bruised. Battered. Broken. Living nightmare.

Stuck in the middle.

Broken circles.

Existing between loss and what if’s.

Mourning. Grieving. Living one moment at a time.

Three years.

Candlelight. Homage to those lost. Light of hope for those who survived.

My circle complete.

The end.

How Aware are YOU?

2011-10-03T20:25:00.001-04:00

Wheel of Power and Control

How many times have we tuned into the news to hear stories like "Woman dies at the hands of husband...One in every 3 women are victims of domestic violence...Domestic violence is the leading cause of injury to women between the ages of 15 and 44 in our country, and the FBI estimates that a woman is beaten every 15 seconds."

Ever heard those stories? Thought about those statistics?
Have you tuned in or simply tuned out?

Personally, I was never compelled to act on behalf of a number or a statistic. I tuned out the mindless chatter on my TV set. That just didn't happen to people I knew.
Until I became the statistic
October is domestic violence awareness month.
How aware are YOU?

ABUSERS:There is no typical perpetrator. Batterers come from all socioeconomic, ethnic, religious, age, and employment groups. However, they often share some of the following characteristics:

• Most (about 95%) are male.
• Tend to minimize their violence.
• Great need to control situations/people.
• Rarely acknowledge emotions or feelings.
• Often attempt to isolate their victims.
• May be quite charming initially.

WARNING SIGNS:Many of the signs women are taught to Interpret as caring, attentive, and romantic are actually early warning signs for future abuse. Some examples Include:
INTRUSION: Constantly asks you where you are going, who you are with, etc.
ISOLATION: Insists that you spend all or most of your time together, cutting you off from friends and family.
POSSESSION AND JEALOUSY: Accuses you of flirting/having sexual relationships with others; monitors your clothing/make-up.
NEED FOR CONTROL: Displays extreme anger when things do not go his way; attempts to make all of your decisions.
UNKNOWN PASTS / NO RESPECT FOR WOMEN: Secretive about past relationships; refers to women with negative remarks, etc.

MORE WARNING SIGNS:
1. Was or is abused by a parent.
2. Grew up in a home where an adult was abused by another adult. 3. Gets very serious with boyfriends/girlfriends very quickly – saying “I love you” very early in the relationship, wanting to move in together or get engaged after only a few months, or pressuring partner for a serious commitment.
4. Comes on very strong, is extremely charming and an overly smooth talker. 5. Is extremely jealous.
6. Isolates partner from support systems – wants partner all to themselves, and tries to keep partner from friends, family or outside activities.
7. Attempts to control what partner wears, what she/he does or who she/he sees.
8. Is abusive toward other people, especially mother or sisters if he is a male.
9. Blames others for one’s own misbehavior or failures.
10. Has unrealistic expectations, like expecting partner to meet all of ones needs and be the perfect partner.
11. Is overly sensitive – acts ‘hurt’ when not getting one’s way, takes offense when others disagree with an opinion, gets very upset at small inconveniences that are just a normal part of life.
12. Has ever been cruel to animals.
13. Has ever abused children.
14. Has ever hit a boyfriend or girlfriend in the past.
15. Has ever threatened violence, even if it wasn’t a serious threat.
16. Calls partner names, puts him/her down or curses at him/her.
17. Is extremely moody, and switches quickly from being very nice to exploding in anger
18. If a male, believes women are inferior to men and should obey them.
19. Is intimidating, for example using threatening body language, punching walls or breaking objects.
20. Holds partner against his/her will to keep him/her from walking away or leaving the room.

Need help? Call the hotline at National Coalition Against Domestic Violence hotline at 1.800.799.SAFE.

The Hardest Job I've Ever Loved

2011-09-19T08:57:00.001-04:00

Take time to jump for joy and count those blessings!

Some days I wonder how I will make it through the whole day.

To wake before 6:00am. and get ready for my full time job as a teacher are not the hard parts.

Getting a three year old to rise and shine in a good mood, feed her something she’ll eat, and get her dressed in clothes that don’t cause one to go blind from the clashing of colors and out the door by 6:40am—now that’s the big challenge!
Work a full 8 hour day. Sometimes longer.
Faculty meetings. Grading papers.Dance class. Bible study. Praise band practice.
Make dinner. Feed a toddler, bath time, story time all to finally collapse in my favorite chair at 9:00pm for an hour of mommy time.
Oh, yeah, let’s squeeze in domestic violence advocate. Artist. Writer.
And I don’t think I’m alone on days like these.
It’s normal, everyday life, right?

I’ve waited tables. I’ve flipped burgers. I’ve worked in a factory filling boxes in 100 degree heat. I’ve taught hormonal teenagers for 20 years.
But of all the jobs titles I’ve held in my life, single mother is the hardest job I have ever done.

Yesterday, I had a moment. Not the type moment you’d think I’d have after describing my normal day to day routine. No, I didn’t melt down in a puddle of mush on the floor unable to move another muscle. Believe it or not, I’m used to the business of my life.

It was more of a moment where I took a step back and gave thanks.
I said thank you to God for giving me strength to give to and provide for my family and still have the energy to enjoy life with them! I said thank you to God for not allowing me to fall into the rut of going through the motions of life on autopilot and actually taking time to live in the midst of the hustle and bustle.

Yes, our lives are busy. Hectic. Mine often times feels like madness! Ahhh, but those little moments of listening to my handsome son’s music and hearing about his job and his friends while we prepare and eat dinner make all the hustle and bustle of life stop and stand still. Playing Barbie’s with my daughter or dressing up like princesses make the tiredness of the long day evaporate. Hearing my daughter spelling her name for the first time, and teaching her to pray rejuvenates my tired soul each and every time!

Sure, single mother is the hardest job I’ve ever done and ever will do. But at the same time, the rewards are being reaped. And I am oh, so blessed.

Philippians 4:13 I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Some Days I Still Grieve

2011-09-14T12:54:00.002-04:00

some things can not be fixed with duct tape
--altered journal

Some days

I grieve.

Still.

No, someone in my life did not pass away. But I lost something I had wanted so very badly for a lifetime.

I lost my marriage and the man I vowed to love forever.

On July 27, 2007 I made a promise to love and honor a man for the rest of my life. I meant those vows with all of my being. I not only made them to him, why, I made them to God above. Sure, I’d been married before, but this time, Christ was the center of my marriage. The vows were the most real words I’d ever spoken. Even the part about for better or worse.

There was a lot of better. Laughing. Loving. Best friend. Prayer partner. Baby’s father. Soul-mate.
There was even more of worse. Lies. Addiction. Violence.
Finally, the scales were permanently locked into place where the worse outweighed the better and I was lying on the floor unconscious.

So much was broken. Trust. Vows. Dreams. Home. Heart.
So much died. Husband. Marriage. Family. Future. Heart.

Some days
I grieve for the man I was swept away by, fell head over heels in love with, and vowed to love for a lifetime.
I grieve for the man I sang in perfect harmony with.
I grieve for the man that I heard pray for his unborn baby to grow healthy and strong.
I will always love that man. But he has died to me and some days
I still I grieve.

Some days
I grieve for those lost dreams of a family with a daddy, a mommy and a baby girl.
I grieve for what could have been.
I grieve for what should have been.

But in my grief, I do not wallow in sadness or despair. No, those days of mourning have passed. I don’t even ask “why?” anymore. Some answers I will never know.
And even now, in my grief, I can find hope and a future.
Although some dreams were lost, I still have dreams. Only now, my dreams look different.

Three years later, I’ve picked up the broken pieces of me, my heart and my life. Slowly and carefully I began to put my life back together. I have a happy family with my children. I have a home. I give to others with a powerful ministry. I live a life of truth and peace.
I have all I need.

But some days, I still grieve.

*author’s note:
Often times in my work with domestic violence victims, victims return to their abusers. Statements like “but I love him” or “I just wish he’d go back to how he was” are commonplace. Of course we love them. Why else would we have been with them?

Sadly, many victims remain locked into acting on their emotions rather and being drawn back into violence due to the loneliness or hopes that the abuser will change. The key to changing those behaviors is knowing that although those feelings are real, the logistics are abusers will continue to abuse and their violent behaviors will only escalate.

Like so many others, I still grieve for the man I fell in love with. But that man died to me the night I was left for dead in my hallway floor. There would be no more going back. There would be no more hoping for the future. I had to make the choice not to act on my hopes and what my heart longed for. I had to survive and want more for my daughter.

This may be the hardest part for non-victims to understand. “Why would you ever think you loved someone who could’ve hurt you like that?” is a statement I’ve heard friends say time and time again. But I didn’t fall in love with a monster. My heart holds him as two separate people. But my head knows they are one and the same. And I know I made the right choice to let him die to me.

So now, I must grieve.

Once Upon a Time

2011-09-07T13:29:00.000-04:00

Once upon the time there was a family.
A mommy, a daddy, a little boy and a little girl.
The daddy yelled. He called the mommy names. Sometimes, he even hurt her. The daddy scared the little boy and girl. They did not want him to hurt the mommy. The little boy would yell at his daddy to stop hurting his mommy. He would use all his small might to make the big daddy stop, but he always failed. He tried to protect his mommy, but he could not. The little girl would hide and pretend nothing was wrong. But both the little boy and the little girl heard the angry words. They saw the shoves and pushes.

Our family stays together. We will always look happy and loving on the outside.
Our family business is our business. Never tell what happens behind closed doors.
The mommy and daddy never told their secret.

The daddy yelled at the boy. He told the boy he was a failure, worthless and could do nothing right. He even told him he wished he was never born. The little boy had so much reason to be angry at the daddy. As he grew older, he made a promise to himself. I will never be like my daddy, he vowed. I will never hurt my wife or my children.
Ever.

The boy’s sister grew into a woman. She grew up and married a man that made her happy. She loved him and had two little babies. But the man she married was just like her daddy. One day, he hit her and hurt her.
The boy grew older, too. He tried to escape the cruel words and ugly things his daddy had said to him, but the words rang in his ears. Failure. Worthless. Pathetic.
He stuck a needle in his arm to make the words go away. And they did. So he used the needle over and over.

The boy grew to be a man. He fell in love and a beautiful girl that loved him more than anything in the world. She told him he was wonderful. She called him smart, brilliant, funny and more. The boy made her so happy. They got married and had a little baby girl. The beautiful girl was loving and kind, but when the boy grew angry, he called her names like he heard his daddy call his mommy. He called her really bad words that made her cry. But still, she tried to understand him. She knew he had seen bad things when he was little. She knew he had been hurt.
She said she would not leave him. She loved him so.

The boy did not understand why he said those words to his beautiful girl. He had made the promise never to act like his daddy, but time after time, he always did. He broke his promise and he used mean words. And one day, he hurt the girl that loved him so. He screamed at her and told her she was evil. All she did was hurt him. He put his hands around his throat and squeezed until she closed her eyes.

The beautiful girl did not die. She took her little baby girl and escaped the angry, scary man. And this girl made a promise to herself. She promised she would never let her little baby girl grow up to hear angry, cruel words. She would never let her baby girl see her get hurt by anyone. Even though she felt sad for the man that hurt her, she had to protect her baby. She promised she would never let her baby girl see violence. Because the girl knew if her baby girl saw these bad things, she would grow up and pick a man like her daddy. A man that would hurt her. Or one day, her daddy might hurt the baby. The girl loved her baby too much.

The beautiful girl kept her promise and broke the cycle.

"You shall not bow down to them or worship them; for I, the LORD your God, am a jealous God, punishing the children for the sin of the parents to the third and fourth generation of those who hate me, but showing love to a thousand generations of those who love me and keep my commandments."

Exodus 20:5-6 (NIV)

"Our ancestors sinned and are no more, and we bear their punishment."

Lamentations 5:7 (NIV)

HOPE: My Prickly Thorns

2011-07-28T19:01:00.000-04:00

HOPE: My Prickly Thorns: "From the moment I moved into my rental home, I knew the inside was perfect. Made for me. Happy, golden-yellow walls are the perfect backdrop..."

My Prickly Thorns

2011-07-28T18:56:00.001-04:00

From the moment I moved into my rental home, I knew the inside was perfect. Made for me. Happy, golden-yellow walls are the perfect backdrop for my paintings and furniture. When I officially became the homeowner or the same rental home, there was nothing to change. No painting. Not one ounce of sprucing up to make these four walls my home.

But the outside was a different story.

To me, my small patio backyard was uninviting. Sure, it was well maintained, well manicured, and some would even think it attractive, but to me, the bushes and greenery planted by a builder in order to have a low maintenance yard were far from beautiful.

Holly bushes. Holly trees. And lots of boring boxwood hedges. Everything green. No flowers. And did I mention all the prickles and thorns?

Sticky plants were overtaking all the available ground needed to plant flowers. Nothing could grow in my soil except prickles and thorns under the guise of beautiful greenery. I had even attempted to cut the bushes back to the bare bones only to have them return with a vengeance. In less than a year, I was back where I started. Nothing but prickly thorns.

Yet, what could I do? It wasn't my house. Well, it wasn't until a few months ago! (Do real estate lawyers provide shovels for unearthing bushes upon each house closing? Well, they should!)

Earlier this week, I sweated and toiled, and after a lot of back breaking hours in the North Carolina heat and humidity, I completely reworked my tiny back yard. From the looks of my arms and legs, you'd think the holly bushes won the battle, but I'm here to tell you, I was completely victorious, and my tiny back yard has been cleared--even of the roots.

Leaning on my shovel for a much needed breather, sweat running in my eyes, it occurred to me how similar we are to our homes. They are a reflection of us, our tastes, likes and dislikes, belongings, sounds and smells. Someone may not really know me, but one glimpse inside my happy, yellow kitchen with brightly colored paintings of hope depicted hanging on the walls, would tell them the joy-filled story of my soul.

And then it hit me. My prickly, sticky backyard is a reflection of me as well. Surveying my backyard, I realized I had built up some serious thorny walls to keep folks from knowing my happy, yellow soul. Years of hurt and brokenness had resulted in some serious thorns growing to protect this homeowner.

Tugging and pulling on remaining roots systems, once I'd rid the soil of the thorny shrubbery, I saw even more of myself. The roots of these thorny bushes grew deep. The soil, even feet away from the shrub itself, was infested with small, capillary-type roots designed to consume every ounce of nutrients available and keep the thorn bush thriving. Kind of like me. Some specific instances of trust and betrayal cultivated my thorns, grew my roots deep into the ground and prevented anything beautiful or blooming from entering my life.

No, you wouldn't know it from looking at me. I'm an open book, right? I tell an inspiring story of hope and forgiveness. I give you a glimpse of my inside--my happy, yellow soul. But I have some thorns that keep others out. And if other people can't get in, neither can hurt, right? Even worse than preventing my heart from hurting, I wondered if the same thorns that kept pain at arms length also hindered me from completely blessing others? Talk about counterproductive to my purpose. Talk about a hard truth to face.

As I planted cheerful pink and yellow flowers in my newly cleared yard, I realized I too was ready to be planted. I am ready to bloom. Ready to trust. Ready to live and love. Ready to let people enter my heart, my soul, my happy, yellow world.

But more than just a simple pruning, much more than a effortless pulling of weeds, God's going to need a shovel. Probably a backhoe.

John 15:1-10 (NIV)

The Vine and the Branches

1 “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener. 2 He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes[a] so that it will be even more fruitful. 3 You are already clean because of the word I have spoken to you. 4 Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.

5 “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing. 6 If you do not remain in me, you are like a branch that is thrown away and withers; such branches are picked up, thrown into the fire and burned. 7 If you remain in me and my words remain in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. 8 This is to my Father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.

9 “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. 10 If you keep my commands, you will remain in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love.

Footnotes:
John 15:2 The Greek for he prunes also means he cleans.

I'm a Proverbs 31 Kinda Woman (At least a Work in Progress)!

2011-07-15T00:17:00.003-04:00

Shiny. Colorful.
Glittery.
Beautiful streams of curling bows and ribbons heaped atop bright, happy paper.
Can I shake it?
Just pick it up?
Could it be a…?
Maybe it’s a…?
If I could only know: What’s in the package!?!?

I don’t know about you, but I remember gazing longingly at the gifts under my Grandmother’s tree, and I knew the one with the best wrapping outside would be the one with the best gift inside! Always one to enjoy anticipation and surprises, I tended to save the ‘best’ for last. My cousin, however, would dive straight for the decoratively wrapped prize—claiming and conquering within seconds.

But did you ever open up a beautiful package only to be disappointed with what lay inside?
Nope, not the Barbie you’d been asking for the whole year long. Just another pair of brown socks! (As an aside, why wrap socks with pink, glittery paper? Cruel I say, cruel!!)
Maybe the expectations placed on that brightly colored box were so great the prize inside could never live up.
Maybe the box was empty. Decorative and beautiful--yet only on the outside.

Ya’ll know I’m not just talking about kids and Christmas here, right?

What about us people?
Aren’t we wrapped in different, unique packages of our own?
Ever received a gift of a new person, friend or relationship in your life, and after a few months of digging through the layers of tissue paper and packaging peanuts, you are presented with disappointment over unmet expectations?
What about the present with the beautiful exterior packaging yet there’s nothing there but an empty, shallow box?

I’ve known plenty of beautiful, shiny packages.
Perhaps, at one point in my much younger life, I was one of them.
I wonder if somewhere along the line, someone saw me as a glittery prize--a well wrapped package with really good, well, let's just say great ‘80’s hair and teeth, only to dig past my tissue and find nothing but superficial conversations about my clothes or some other form of vanity.
I wonder if someone tugged one end of my beautiful bow, and I simply unraveled into an unrecognizable form--lacking backbone and substance. Sadly, I wonder if someone along the way opened my lid, peeked in, and knew instantly my box was too shallow and empty and slammed the lid shut in disgust.

Probably. Well, more than just probably.

Sitting here in a beach chair soaking up the sun as waves lap at my feet, I am adding to my cluster of age spots and freckles hoping they will blur together as one to create my 43 year olds version of a tan. I know my middle-aged wrapping paper isn’t nearly as shiny, glossy and new as it once was. Some might even consider it no longer beautiful. And you know what? I’m ok with it.
For I now know I am so much more than an empty box.

My inside has become a gift worth far more than rubies, full of wisdom, value, and compassion for others. I open my arms and pocketbook to those in need. My inside is deeper than my latest hair cut or the new color of polish I’m wearing. My heart longs to speak for others that cannot speak for themselves. I am more than my own wants and needs, and I fight to give a voice to the voiceless. I provide for my family and do not eat the bread of idleness. My inside is courageous and lives without fear—laughing at days to come. I am decisive and powerful--clothed in strength and dignity. I know my children will rise up and call me blessed.

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting;
but a woman who fears the LORD is to be praised.
Honor her for all that her hands have done,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate. Proverbs 31:30-31

The further my outside has gotten from perfection, the closer my inside has come to what is righteous, holy and true. Yet, I’m still a work in progress. I always will be. I don’t even want to count the mistakes I’ve made just this week. My prayer is that I will continue to grow into a woman of noble character and that God will continue to mold me into His treasure.

It's a great place to be knowing I don't need to snazz up a fading outside to overcompensate for an empty inside. Better still, though the outside packaging has grown withered, and worn, the light from the gift inside continues to shine in beauty for all to see.

Shine your light, Proverbs 31 Woman, shine your light!!

I will be attending the She Speaks Conference sponsored by Provers 31 Ministries on July 22-24th.

My Darling Daughter

2011-06-30T13:27:00.000-04:00

My darling daughter,

Thank you for the gift of love.

Powerful, amazing, love.

For you.
Because of you.

Love for you gave me strength.
Love for you gave me courage.
Love for you gave me power to rise above brokenness and begin to live again.

Love for you gave me determination to be the best I could ever be.

For you.

Love for you promises:

Never ever will you have to see your mother hurt.

Never ever will you feel the need to protect your mother from harm.
Never ever will you think love is anything less than real love.

Thank you, my darling daughter.
Three years ago today, I gave you life.

In return, you helped save mine.

Happy Birthday, Princess Chloe Rayne.

NO!

2011-06-05T15:14:00.002-04:00

No, honey, do NOT touch that. I mean it. No, stop!

What did Mommy just say?

Mommy said no and she means NO!

Some days it seems the word no comes out of my mouth hundreds of times. I am a single mommy to a precocious toddler. Some days, I'm positive my almost three year old princess hears the word no more than any other word. My little girl is inquisitive. She's also very headstrong. "I do it, Mommy. Me." is one of her favorite phrases, and if she gets fixated on doing something, she doesn't like to take no for an answer. Is this all toddlers or just mine? Needless to say, she is not prone to stop bad or even dangerous behaviors after the first warning. But she hears me warning her. I know she hears me.

The reason I know she hears me is the look. Do you know the look? The look where she purses up her lips, tucks her chin under and begins to pout and suddenly, this sassy sounding "No, Mommy, I will do it!" comes out of this normally sweet little girl. Then I must give the second warning. And she pushes the envelope. If I've told her not to touch something, the almost slow motion-one finger that simply has to touch one last time just to show mommy who is really boss-comes out and she's moving in to touch the off limits object again. Usually, the mommy stink eye can trump the slow motion finger and stop it in its tracks, but sometimes a timeout for not being a better listener is called for.

Strong willed and determined, my girl is now able to do more and more for herself. If she had it her way, she'd do everything on her own regardless of the danger signs that her child's mind can't foresee. So now that she's able to comprehend things more, I've started explaining my no to her. When she refuses to go to bed because she wants to finish one last episode of Dora the Explorer: "Mommy tells you no because mommy knows what is best for you, baby. Mommy knows you need rest". Or after she's buttered her breakfast eggos as I stand beside her and she then wants to stick the butter knife in the toaster: "Mommy is telling you 'NO' to keep you safe!" But more than anything, I've told her: "The reason mommy tells you no is because she loves you." No isn't fun for her. Heck, it's not fun for me either because I have to listen to a lot of crying afterwards. But, because we want to keep them safe, because we know what is best for them and most of all because we love them is why we discipline in the first place, right? And if we do discipline out of love, our children grow. They don't hate or resent us if we guide them with love. Sure there might be some grumbling under their breath as they head to the bedroom and slam the door (I have a teenager as well). Often there is resistance and rebellion. They may not immediately grasp that discipline is given to allow them to grow and thrive, but our hope as parents is that one day they will.

No, this isn't a parenting 101 blog. I certainly don't have it all together. But I know enough about loving discipline to understand that this is exactly what God our Father wants for us as His children. Loving discipline requires being told no. Love isn't giving a child everything they want at all costs. Love isn't swooping in and bailing them out of trouble over and over. How many times in my faith walk have I been told no? Oh man. More than I can count! When it seemed all my crying out to God for this want or that want or whatever I thought as best for me at that moment was doing no good, I got angry. I pitched 40 year old temper tantrums. I pouted. Kind of like the look my little one can give me, I gave it to God as I complained He must not love me and he certainly didn't care about me because he wasn't giving me what I wanted. I've rebelled against His loving discipline. I've gone after things that were wrong for me thinking I knew what was best. I've gotten into messes and I've had to be held accountable for my wrongs.

But, I have also had those Ah-ha! moments when enough time has passed, the temper tantrum has faded and I've looked at situations and been so thankful God told me no! So many times I've had the realization that He knew what was best for me all along, I just couldn't see it at the time. As our ultimate example of a parent, God disciplines with love. He continues to love and bless us throughout the discipline process. Just because I tell my daughter no, doesn't mean I don't hug her and love her in the next breath! Had I become fixated on the no's in my life and remained bitter and angry at the One who wanted the best for me, I'd have missed a lot of amazing, beautiful blessings in my life.

No, my child. It's because I know what's best for you.

No, my beautiful daughter. It's because I want to keep you safe.

No, Michelle. It's because I love you so very much.

Hebrews 12:5-13 And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says,

“My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline,and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, 6 because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son."

7 Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? 8 If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. 9 Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! 10 They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. 11 No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it.

Good Steward

2011-05-26T22:30:00.002-04:00

Tomorrow afternoon, the house where I have been living for the last two years will be different.

Yes, it will still have the same happy yellow walls, huge roomy bedrooms for me and my children, and my very own walk in closet. No furniture will be removed or rearranged and things will appear on the outside exactly as they always have. Yet there will be a difference. A huge difference.

Instead of simply renting my home, I will own it.

Now, you may not think that's such a huge deal--buying a home. Once upon a time, nor would I. I've bought and sold a couple of homes at different times in my life, but like I said, this time is different.

For starters, this time around I'm doing it on my own. I am a single mom providing for a soon to be three year old and a teenage son preparing to enter college. Yes, I am a teacher that hasn't had a raise in 4 years and no, I don't have a huge stock portfolio, a dead relative, or a sugar daddy providing me these things. What I have is much more powerful. I have faith. And not an accessory faith that I simply put on to walk the walk and talk the talk. I believe it and live it and I have faith that God will provide for me and my family. And for me, living a life that illustrates obedience to Him is my highest purpose.

I truly believe that for me to have the means to purchase a home and provide for my family is God's way of letting me know I am a good steward. So what does that really mean? Basically, a steward is someone who takes care of something. The Bible says that someone who is faithful with a little thing will be faithful with much (Luke 16:9-11). In my 43 years of living, I will just tell you, I was not a good steward. Especially of money and finances. Until recent years, I was never able to grasp the crucial difference between wanting and needing. For much of my adult life, I got whatever I wanted. Although I had ALL I could ever need and more, I charged new TV's, trips to Disneyworld, furniture, home improvements, tons of clothes and whatever I wanted when I wanted it. I remortgaged my homes to pay off credit card debt only to begin accruing again. Hey, it was free money, right? But as it turns out, it wasn't. There was a price tag more steep that simply a debt to pay. I had become a slave to my debt and my life was very empty and meaningless. New stuff, toys and possessions didn't fill the void in my soul. Never had a full paycheck been mine.

It took me about forty years, but I got it right. I cut the cards and never looked back when I realized I was trying to buy happiness and contentment that could only come from one place. Christ. Over time, after a lot of prayer and seeking contentment in Christ instead of material things and after a lot of faithful tithing and fully realizing that all I have and all I am and all I am given really belong to God anyway, some things started to change for me. I began to receive more than just my basic needs. Extra income from artwork and speaking engagements. Forgotten money just showing up in the mail. Special treats like a gift of a massage from a friend, or a beach trip for me and my daughter. I began to receive because I was giving and not simply taking for myself to feed my own selfish needs.

Please understand, God didn't wave a magic wand and make my debt go away. But once I showed myself obedient and faithful to what I was required to do by not seeking fulfillment through something other than Him and by really stopping my detrimental behaviors, I was blessed. Here's the kicker. I believe God wants the best for us and He will help us achieve the best. But we have to do the grunt work and remain obedient as we make our changes. Choices we made in our lives got us into a mess, an addiction, a destructive lifestyle, or whatever, and we have to make conscious choices to get ourselves out. Sometimes daily or even hourly. It didn't take us a day or two to get into our individual mess--it won't go away in a simple act of prayer. But it can change. We have to do the work to make our wrongs right. The great thing is, He will see us through the righting of wrongs, the paying of debts, and it won't be nearly as painful as we would've thought. There won't be a sense of condemnation as we walk that walk, but one of loving guidance and discipline from a heavenly Father.

This summer, after twenty years of working, my paycheck will finally be MINE. No credit card debt. Don't even own one. No consolidation loans. Finally, the last one will be paid. I will no longer be a slave to any lender. Yes, I have a car payment--but it's only for two more years. And unlike the life I've lived since I was eighteen, I won't trade for a newer, shiner model with another 5 more years of payment. I am content and more than that, I am thankful for what I drive.

So, tomorrow, I will be a homeowner once again.

Thank you, God.
Thank you for my home and for giving me a means to provide for my family.
Thank you for trusting me with the gifts I've been given.

It is what it is

2011-05-19T15:24:00.004-04:00

Suck it up and get over it.

Toughen up and deal with it--it is what it is.

This is life--and nobody is going to live it for you. Just live it and stop worrying about it!

Odds are good, a marriage or relationship that defines statements like those as encouragement is destined to fail. I heard variations of these phrases many times in my marriage. Sadly, some were in regards to tiredness due to pregnancy. Often they were responses to worry about money and finances. Yet as time has passed and some healing has taken place, I can look back on some of the not so supportive things my former husband responded to my concerns with, and see that there was an underlying thread of truth.

I did worry. A lot.

I talked out my fears and worries. Dwelling is probably an understatement.

I didn't live life. It's as though I wanted someone else to live it for me--to handle all the tough stuff and once the ugly things were checked off the list, then I could do the living part.

Boy, did I ever have it wrong.

In my brief marriage, it seems I looked towards my husband to handle everything. Especially the difficult things. And there were a lot of difficult things. Both of us working full time jobs, him enrolled in college full time and maintaining a 4.0 average, us trying to overcome his drug addiction, and oh, a baby on the way! Love alone wasn't enough. My constant worrying was too much for him. I couldn't support him as my husband when he was constantly required to carry the load of his unspoken worries and mine that I voiced constantly. Hindsight is 20/20 and I can clearly see the weight of that invisible burden on his shoulders. And as a human man carrying the weight of two people, he buckled.

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world. John 16:33

Trouble. Worries. Issues. Problems. Life. It is what it is, right? Man, have I ever realized that in the last three years. Trouble after trouble. Most of my life and in my marriage, I thought I could start living once the trouble was over. After I'd worried about it enough to solve the problem I would be ok. Or after I'd called friend after friend and then heaped all the leftover worries on my husband's shoulders, I could finally feel peace. But life and living doesn't work that way. I can't being to feel peace and freedom only after the issues are resolved. I can't wait to live and enjoy life until I'm free of issues, in a good place, or physically healthy. I have a feeling I'm not the only person who has ever put living on hold until ___________happens. What can you fill in the blank? I could write a book to fill in mine! And yet if or when _____________does happen, don't we simply begin the process over again with another blank?

As times has passed, I've grown to see that it wasn't my husband's responsibility to carry this type of weight. I was asking a mere man to carry Christ's load. Only Christ's. It wasn't my husband's load. Not my friend's on the other end of the phone line. It wasn't my mom's or whoever else's I tended to run to before I ever took the time to bend my knees and pray. In fact, it wasn't even MY load!

Come to me all you are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Matthew 11:28-29

Oh, the lessons I've learned walking in faith. And here's the biggie. I can truly live while troubles come, because I know they are coming. Christ told me they were. There's no way to stop them. But I have the choice to live life in the midst of them and choose a life of joy and peace because I know someone much stronger than this human body is carrying those burdens.

Finally, I lay them at His feet.

The Nightmare

2011-05-07T11:08:00.000-04:00

Shaking, and drenched in a cold sweat, I awoke from the nightmare.

Don't close your eyes, Michelle, you don't want to pick up where the dream left off.
I'd been dreaming of a faceless, nameless, feeling. A feeling of being bullied, unloved, put down and degraded. This unseen demeaning force was pointing out all I had done wrong. Laying it on the line why I was a bad mother, a bad person, a pitiful excuse for a human being. Then the "thing" started to include my daughter in the sick exchange. Bullying her. Playing games with her feelings. Telling her she was unworthy, unlovable and she was nothing. I begged the force to stop--Please, Please, don't damage my child--Don't hurt her!! But I could do nothing to protect her.

Typical of any bad dream, I wanted to escape. To simply RUN AWAY, but also typical of nightmares, I was frozen in place. The clincher that woke me with a feeling of dread and fear in my heart was when the "thing" said to me, "There is no way to escape. Not for you and not for her. Just look at what I've done throughout time to destroy others." And like a child's flip book, pages started turning and overlapping each other with pictures of peoples hurts at the expense of others words and actions. Simple things like an bad haircut being mocked by classmates, a prank designed to make others laugh at another's expense, more serious things like a spouse not showing compassion and caring for their ailing mate, harsh words by parents that branded a child's growing soul, and more. The pages continued to turn faster and faster placing hurts on top of hurts and as the pages began to pile higher and higher with the unseen force laughing with delight at the pain of others, I awoke with a hopeless heaviness in my heart.

I desperately wanted the dream to stop--to shake it off, but I couldn't help myself and faded back to sleep despite my intentions. And yes, the dream continued, but with a twist.

My daughter entered.

And she looked at the nameless, faceless force spitting out example after example of pain and she yelled with all her tiny might and sass, "STOP! STOP it right NOW!" And as if viewing a movie, I watched my strong-willed baby daughter being to put the "thing" in its place.

I will NEVER believe your lies!
I am worthy and you will never hurt me!
I am important, and just because you tell me otherwise, I will not believe you.
Because GOD tells me I matter!

And as the unknown force disappeared into a cloud of dust, my precious daughter turned to me, smiling and laughing, and ran into my arms.

The Roots of Calvary's Tree

2011-04-12T18:54:00.011-04:00

I am a Christian.

I am an artist.

I love to sing and worship my Lord.

I believe our 'gifts' come from God and should be used to give Him glory.

So often, painting for me turns into one big praise and worship session. Great music, pretty colors, top it all off with a big dose of Jesus. It doesn't get more fun for me!

It soothes my soul, quiets the noise of the world, lifts my spirits and takes away my pain.

Worshiping and painting to my new Casting Crowns CD I came across a song called Blessed Redeemer. The words reached down and grabbed me, reminding of what God sent his precious, only son here to do for us.

Up Calvary's mountain one dreadful morn

Walked Christ my Savior, weary and worn

Facing for sinners, death on the cross

He might save them from endless loss

Blessed Redeemer, precious Redeemer

Seems now I see Him on Calvary's tree

Wounded and bleeding, for sinners pleading

Blind and unheeding, dying for me

"Father, forgive them," my Savior prayed

Even while His lifeblood flowed fast away

Praying for sinners while in such woe

No one but Jesus ever loved so

Oh, how I love Him, Savior and Friend

How can my praises ever find end?

Through years unnumbered on Heaven's shore

My songs shall praise Him forevermore ?

Powerful stuff. Real. True. All done for me and you. It gives me chills.

The song brought tears to my eyes.

And as my prayer to God to use this canvas for his Glory was said, the words Calvary's Tree placed an image in my mind's eye and I began to paint.

Calvary's Tree, the cross, has roots that go into the deepest darkest pits. Our pits. Dark, black, filled with things like shame, guilt and more. Our roots. Our damage that goes so deep. Yet the roots of the cross can reach our deepest depths and our darkest roots. The roots of the cross extend down and FORGIVENESS can grasp hold of our despair and our brokenness and begin to pull us up. As we rise to the surface, we experience the real roots of the tree. Roots like Faith, Hope, Love, Mercy are OURS.

Our gift.

Hope is Real

2011-04-11T12:33:00.005-04:00

What does HOPE mean to you? We all hope. We hope for small things like hoping to get home from work at a decent hour to spend time with our families or hoping we’ll be eating pizza for dinner. We hope for bigger things like marriage proposals or seeing our businesses grow or maybe winning the lottery. Serious things. Like hoping to live to see our children grown and content with their lives or that lost loved ones will come to know Christ. But what does hope really mean in the Christian context?

A couple of weeks ago I had the pleasure to attend the Extraordinary Women Conference in Greenville, SC. Amazing women of God Thelma Wells, Jennifer Rothschild, Candice Cameron Buce, and my personal shero Lysa Terkeurst presented on the theme of hope. For me personally, God reiterated many of the same lessons I've been learning in my walk of faith. God is truth no matter what vessel He's using! God is so cool that way!

A great definition of hope is a firm assurance and a confident anticipation regarding things that are unclear and unknown. Hope is very different from our human expectations. Expectations can be placed on others, on ourselves and on our circumstances. And we all know that those things will fail us time and time again. If not met, our expectations will cause us to question others, ourselves, and our circumstances. Failed personal expectations can even cause us to feel hopeless. Think of a situation in which you've been disappointed and ask yourself, where did your hope really lie? Man, I sure have. Yet I have realized, hope is not a feeling--it is fact. Real, true and lasting hope can only be in Christ alone. Ps 62:5 says: I depend on God alone; I put my hope in him. Think about it, the Bible clearly tells us God cannot lie. He can't go back on a promise. Ask. Seek. Knock. And then HOPE.

Like God's word, hope is alive and breathing. Hope really became alive to me when I was completely broken. The husband, marriage and other circumstances I'd put my hopes in had been destroyed. I had no control over my circumstances and I had nothing to cling to except God. I turned towards His promises. God promised me that in all things He will works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Rom. 8:28 He promised He would give me hope and a future. Jer. 28:11 The rubber was hitting the road and I had not do more than just read or reread some work Bible pages. I had to first believe them and then begin to live them! It wasn't as though a magic God wand came down and gave me peace and comfort, but I made the choice to believe and eventually, the feelings followed my God aligned choices. Too often because of hopeless feelings, we let the mess of our circumstances define us and we remain on our mat, unable to get up and walk. Yet we have a choice--to choose HOPE.

The treasure of truth I took away from Extraordinary Women was one that I already knew because of those choices I had made to cling to God's promises. Lysa Terkeurst said it best when she shared her testimony. We are a MESS. All of us are. Spell the word even. M-E-S-S. Yet look at the word messiah. Like the literal spelling of that word, we can give our MESS to the M-E-S-S-iah. Put your mess of hopelessness and brokenness into His open hands and get ready to become so much more thank you could ever expect! Put your hope in God and He promises our lives will become a living breathing MESSage of hope of the power of Christ.

I hope you will join me and be a voice of his HOPE for others!

The blessing of time

2011-04-07T11:40:00.008-04:00

Don't we all dream of having more time? Our time is so precious to us. It's hard to allot some for ourselves and even our families at times. Each minute seems to be dictated by a to do list. We long to have time on our hands to do absolutely nothing. I know I've longed for it many a day after working a full time job and coming home to my most important job, full time single mom to a precocious, energetic 2 year old. If I only had some more time!!

Well, right now I've got time. Plenty of it. Too much of it in fact, and I don't like it. The view from the four walls of my bedroom is driving me nuts and I've only been here for a week. Foot surgery. Unable to work. Unable to care for myself. Unable to care for my daughter. Helpless. A substitute teacher in my classroom teaching my students. Friends and family staying with me in my home, giving my daughter a bath, putting her to bed at night. People fixing meals for my little family and having to carry it to me as I lie in bed and do NOTHING except pass time. I'm so frustrated I could pull my hair out. I've been cranky and downright hateful to my own mother as she cared for me the first few days post surgery. And now that the pain medications are no longer necessary and the anesthesia has dissolved from my system, I have been sullen and becoming more and more anxious. The only things I can focus on are the things I can not do and all the things I could be doing with this precious time. I've finally been given some time, and yet I have to waste it here in a bed! I do not like feeling helpless. I do not like depending upon other people for my every need and I can tell you that it is the most humbling experience to have someone else give you a bath! Just sayin'.

In less than one week, my world has become completely focused on the negatives associated with being unable to do things. But yesterday, thanks to a facebook post, I had my attitude put in check. I wrote about how I was really not enjoying being waited on hand and foot. And several friends began to respond about how it can be a blessing for others to help me, and albeit difficult and humbling to be in my position, I shouldn't deny them the blessing. Well, I will tell you, I would really like to deny them the blessing and get up and fix my own dinner! But what they were saying was true. I had heard it many times before. You will deny others the blessing of giving to you if you refuse their help. And although I haven't been refusing their help, I've definitely been begrudging needing their help. And as I thought about what they were really giving to me, I realized it was one of their most precious gifts. Time.

Boy, did I need a new perspective. Granted, I can't physically change my my location, but I can change the lens of self pity and frustration I've been viewing my circumstances through. Instead of inwardly--and even aloud on the walls of facebook--moaning and groaning about my inability to do for myself and all my wasted time, I decided I would give thanks. It finally dawned on me what people were really giving to me. In some ways, time is so much more precious and hard to part with than a simple helping hand.Thanks to God for the people who have reached out to help me and do for me when I cannot. Thanks to God for those who have given their precious gift of TIME to me and my family. I am asking God to allow me to pay this forward one day. I wonder if I would have give my precious time this way had I not had it done unto me. I think I know the answer. No. And finally, I am asking God to show me what more I can learn here in my bed with my foot propped up. There's got to be something, right?

Or maybe I just learned the real lesson.
Thank you friends for letting me lean on you.
Thank you for giving of your time.

Gal: 6:2 Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.

The Stage

2011-03-17T09:27:00.003-04:00

When I was in 5th grade, all I wanted to do was win the talent show at my elementary school. Every year, I sang my heart out, but it seemed to me, the winners were always students that could play the piano.

I grew up poor. I lived out in the country where the closest neighbors were several miles away.-My family simply didn't have the means to do any type of lesson, but I had a good ear for sounding out songs on my grandmother’s piano. Bear in mind, I'd see Grandmother at Christmas and once during summer, but I could totally sound out Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I had natural talent, right? Oh, and I played one heck of a version of Chopsticks!

So, I decided in order to win the talent show, I needed to learn a song on piano. A high school girl that lived near me (6 miles away) played and she said she'd teach me a song. I went to her house a handful of times and practiced "Color my World" by Chicago (yes, 1978). She was in high school and knew who Chicago was. I had no clue, but I still wanted to play the piano, and that was the only music book she had! Common sense will tell you, I never became good. I could never get through the complete song without a lot of starts and stops. I didn't have the foundation of years of lessons and hours of practice to back the song up. But nonetheless, the draw of the stage was more powerful than my limitations. I was determined to WIN!

The day finally came and I anxiously awaited my turn to walk across the gym floor to the piano. I was so scared, but I was a determined 10 year old. My name was announced and I sat down and began to play. A teacher I didn't know sat beside me to hold the book and turn my pages. I got through the first several chords and stopped. I couldn't remember how to play the song! I started again. Once again, frozen. Deer in the headlights. I began to get flushed and panic. The heat of embarrassment and humiliation began to creep up my neck and I looked towards the teacher for help. She turned away and didn't offer me any encouragement. She did not look at me with compassion and say "Keep trying--Don't give up". I was alone. I tried once more and again, I froze in fear. I ran from the stage crying.

Crushed. Humiliated.
I never ever preformed on a stage again as a child.

I think a walk with Christ through this life of ours is a lot like being on that stage. We jump in to win. Every time. We think we can do this life—we can handle whatever it throws at us, yet so many times, we aren't prepared for stumbling blocks, pains, and hurts we may encounter because we simply haven't learned the lessons yet. We don't have the wisdom--the foundation of years of practice and lessons learned under our belts. And we give up. We don't allow ourselves to make mistakes. We don’t give ourselves a break and we suffer the same humiliation over and over as we relive our defeats in our minds. Sometimes for a lifetime. Oh, to have a teacher that is willing to sit down with us and practice whenever we want. Oh, to have a friend to hearten us in such a way that if we make a mistake, we are never too ashamed or defeated to try and try again. An encourager, a cheerleader, a biggest fan full of love and compassion to let us know we are loved as imperfect as we are and that we are still amazing.

I found that teacher.
I found that friend.
I found that encourager.

I got back up on that stage and with Jesus Christ, I win!

‘Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’ Isaiah 41:10

What's so great about being in your 40's?

2011-03-09T20:38:00.004-05:00

So what’s so great about being a woman in your 40’s?

I can tell you what is not so great. That’s easy. I can give you the long list, but I’ll try to condense down a bit.

I can’t see up close. The whole holding things at arms length to see is ridiculous when trying to put on eyeliner! I am struggling with a slower metabolism. The term “toddler weight” is simply no longer a valid excuse. How about lacking firmness? That can apply to faces and other 40-ish parts! Did I mention I not only like to go to bed at 9:30—I now think I need to.

I teach teenagers day in and day out. I watch them full of life, smooth flawless skin on their faces, no varicose veins or stretch marks and energy that will allow them to stay up all night and still function the next morning. I watch them fit easily into size 4 and 6 pair of jeans and know I’ll never be able to do that again! Question is, do I watch them and wish I could go back?

Oh, heck no!
Go back to that rollercoaster of emotion and constant drama? You’ve got to be kidding!
Even for a size 6? You got that right!

So back to the original question. What’s so great about your 40’s?
My answer is wisdom.
No, you don’t suddenly turn 40 and become wise. You may become wise at age 25—everyone is different. Who knows, you may never become wise. But I have realized that wisdom is choice related. You can choose to make the same mistakes you’ve made your entire life that have gotten you nowhere. You can choose to never take responsibility for your actions and yourself. Or you can choose to grow in your experiences. Acknowledge them. Learn from them. Forgive yourself for them. Stop repeating them and make a better choice!

There you go. Michelle Major’s lesson in Gaining Wisdom 101.
It’s all about the choices we make.

I think the biggest choice for me as I have grown into myself, has been to not let my emotions rule me. I finally realized I had a choice about how I reacted to situations. As an artist, to say I’m emotional is probably a huge understatement. Emotions have always ruled my life. Talk about that high school rollercoaster of emotion? My entire life has been that same ride. My day to day was determined by what was happening in my life and the way those circumstances made me feel. I looked to other people and situations to determine what I had control over all along. Myself!

With wisdom I have learned I am in control of my emotions and my own joy. And they do not depend upon people or circumstances. It is my choice to feel no anxiety. It is my choice to feel whole and valued. It is my choice to feel joy regardless of what is happening around me. You know that happy place they tell you to envision in Lamaze class when you’re going through labor pains? Well, I can pretty much stay there regardless of circumstances. (Which, by the way, looks a whole lot like that field of poppies that Dorothy and crew must run through to get to Oz).

And just how did this happen to me?
I made the most important choice of all.
I chose to believe God’s promises for me.....For I am the LORD your God who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, do not fear; I will help you.....Trust in the Lord with all your heart; and don't lean on your own understanding. In all things acknowledge him, and he shall direct your path...I will never leave you. I will never forsake you...Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.... And the very hairs on your head are all numbered. So don't be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows....The list goes on and on.

These promises are Real. True. Unfailing. Everlasting. Emotions and circumstance are up and down like a rollercoaster. Some times emotions fail us. They even lie to us. But the promises of God never waiver.

I think I finally chose wisely.

Not Just Another Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

2011-03-01T08:52:00.002-05:00

Now I lay me down to sleep,
I pray the Lord my soul to KEEP;
if I die before I wake,
I pray the Lord my soul to take.

We know it backwards, forwards and upside down. Let’s be honest, we could probably even recite it in our sleep!

Every night as I put my baby daughter down to bed, this is the prayer I prayed for her. Teaching her to fold her tiny hands and bow her head, we would kneel at the edge of the bed, I would recite the prayer and then thank God for the people in our lives—leaving her little mind with a picture of people that loved her most as she fell asleep.

But suddenly, she became a toddler. All you moms are going “Oh, girl, I know what you mean!” and I didn’t even have to utter the words ‘terrible twos’. Independent. Strong willed. Trying. Yet still amazing.

Suddenly, my bedtime prayer was met with I DON’T LIKE NOWILAYME. I DON’T WANT IT! There were some screams and a lot of tears thrown in. Maybe some kicking. Am I painting a picture here that you may have experienced? I’m smiling as I write thinking of this little creature called my daughter, but at the time, I was at a loss. As a single mom, I AM the example of a Christian woman for my daughter. I want to model prayer for my child. I want her to have an intimate relationship with Christ. And here she was saying “I don’t like it!”

Come on Michelle, she’s just two and you have a lifetime of modeling to offer her, but nonetheless, this was important to me--to our little family.
So I prayed.
I asked God to give me another way to pray with my little daughter. Show me a way to capture her heart and pray with more meaning than just recited, memorized prayer.

I decided to talk to God about HER. Have a conversation with God and let Chloe be the subject, but sneak some other goodies related to God’s character in there as well. Teacher that I am, let me just model it for you?

God, I am so thankful my daughter Chloe.
God, you made Chloe into such a wonderful girl.
I thank you that she is so smart. She can count. She knows her ABC’s. She can read her name! (Today she learned……)
Lord, she’s a good friend. If she sees someone hurt, she cares for them. (I saw her help…..) God thank you for her kind heart.
Lord, I thank you for letting Chloe use her body to dance, to sing, to play outdoors on this beautiful day that you have made for us, God. And than you for the rain to help the flowers and trees grow. God you are so powerful, amazing and wonderful!
Lord, I thank you for letting her love her brother, Christian. We love him so much.
God, thank you for letting us have a home, toys and yummy food to eat. We thank you God because you give that to us. You, God, provide all we need.
God thank you for all the people that love Chloe. We thank you for (insert all kinds of folks here and we even pray for their needs)
God, thank you so much for letting me Chloe’s mommy. She is the most special girl to me and I love her so very much. She is your gift to me!
And God, most of all, I thank you for letting her be your Princess. She is daughter of the King and I thank you for her.

My child is mesmerized by this prayer! She listens intently. She concentrates on the people, the places, and the pictures I put in her head. She probably dreams sweeter dreams because of them. What kid doesn’t love to be the focus of a bedtime story, right?
But more than that, she’s watching.
She’s watching her mother have a relationship with God where she can just talk to him about anything and everything.
She’s watching her mother thank God for his majesty, His provision and His blessing. She’s hearing that she is wonderfully and fearfully made.
And best of all, she knows that SHE is a true Princess and a daughter of the one and only King!

Thanks, God. You rock.

I will never be too afraid of the answers to ask the questions

2011-02-27T14:27:00.003-05:00

I have made a promise to myself in the last several months. I have vowed that never again will I let the fear of the answers keep me from asking the questions. You may be thinking--what does that really mean? Or you may totally get where I'm coming from. For me, the answer is multi-faceted.

I think the best way to illustrate this is when we ask those scary questions in a relationship. I had lunch with a friend the other day. She and her husband are getting divorced and she told me that during their whole marriage, she'd never questioned his fidelity until it was obvious the marriage was over and dead. Yet now, as their separation is being finalized, it's as though the veil has been lifted from her eyes--and events from the past are taking on a whole new perspective. She now questions, did he really lose his wedding ring all those years ago? Was he really working late all those months in a row? Country girl that I am thinks Randy Travis sang it best "They say hind sight's twenty-twenty". Was my friend really oblivious for a whole decade or did she just turn off that little voice inside her gut that said "something's wrong here"? Were the answers just too difficult to face so she simply turned a blind eye and did not ask the questions? Have you ever been where my friend is? Girl, I sure have.

Most of you know I was in an abusive relationship with a drug addicted husband. Because of fear of confrontation, I quit asking questions. I didn't ask question when new tools would appear in his construction equipment. I didn't ask questions when I found women's jewelry in his pockets. I knew the answer. I knew he'd stolen those things. But I also knew I couldn't stand my ground against any argument, lie, or manipulative tactic he would undoubtedly throw at me. I would eventually cave--so why even bother with the questions.

But no more. I will never be too afraid of the answers to ask the questions.

In order to make and uphold this vow to myself, I needed to get to the root of the problem. And I think the reason we don't ask the hard questions is fear. Fear kept me from asking the obvious questions. Clearly there was a fear of repercussion, but more importantly was the fear of being called to action. Fear of being made to do something I was not ready or able to do. Fear to let go of what's comfortable-even if comfortable was toxic.

As I was sorting out these thoughts in my head preparing to write this blog, God laid it on my heart that there's an even bigger world out there than just me, you, and our own little worlds. There are bigger questions that are in need of asking--and collectively we tend to avoid them. What can we do to help hungry children? What can we do to give shelter and aid to lost, misplaced families? What can we do to give to others who have nothing? What can I do to help give someone hope? God, where can you use me?

Whoa. Here I was thinking I was figuring this whole thing out and God kicks it up a notch and expects more from me. God wanted to know what does it take for me to ask those types of questions. Yes, Michelle, YOU. Because asking those questions might just require me to give more of myself, maybe make some life changing decisions, possibly end the complacency in my life and really be called to action.

His action.

Are you going to ask the questions? I dare you.

My Red Balloon

2011-02-17T08:29:00.000-05:00

I'm just going to throw this out there.

What are your expectations of God? Do you keep Him in a box and only let Him touch and handle the small stuff? Do you only turn to Him in crisis or to simply to pray for others? Or do you give Him everything--expecting great and glorious things from the maker of Heaven and Earth?

I know that I have gone through times when I felt I didn't deserve blessings. Why should I pray for my needs when there were so many people that needed so much more? God needed to deal with them first--so martyr that I was, my needs could take a back seat! Do you know that feeling? Or what about the situation where you think something is hopeless, YOU can't see a solution, so therefore, there must not be one! I've done that as well. Boy, don't we like to put ourselves up there with God and think we can think like him!

If I can't FATHOM, SEE or UNDERSTAND the answer---there must not be an answer. But I've learned that God can handle it all. He can take on major needs and minor needs. He is God, you know. In fact, He wants to. He wants us to come to him with ALL things--big or small.

So there I was during one of those "I can't see the way out of the hole" situations. I was praying, and I was still feeling hopeless and I remember this picture popped into my head. You know me, that whole artist thing--I see situations as pictures.

Anyhow, there was a single red balloon. (Ok, if you're a child of the 80's you're probably humming 99 red luft balloons right now and that's ok, cause so am I!)
And this balloon represented my expectations for God. But sadly, I set my balloon free in my house. My little living room with the 8 ft. ceiling. The balloon rose as high as it could, and suddenly halted at the top. It could go no further.
My balloon, my figurative expectations of God, could only go so high and no more--and it was all under my control.

And the lightbulb went off.
Grab your balloon by the string and take it outside and set it FREE! Free to float to the heavens and beyond.

Do I really need to bring it home to you now and sum it up with the realization that God needs no limits?
Nah, I didn't think so. I painted a pretty good picture and that speaks for itself!

Patchwork Heart

2011-02-14T09:21:00.005-05:00

Have you ever fallen in love only to fall out again? Or ever loved someone so much only to hear the words, "I don't love you any more". I guess we've all experienced the broken heart in some shape or form. Usually we sew it up, bind up the boo-boos and hope next time will be better for our patchwork hearts. Sometimes next time is the real time. Sometimes it isn't. But on this Valentine's Day, I've thought a lot about REAL love and what that means.

Have you ever had the one you love proclaim, "I will never leave you. I will never hurt you or betray you. I would die for you I love you that much."

Now, I've had my share of heartache. If you know me, you know I've maybe been dealt an extra spoonful or 80 of heartbreak, but please understand, I'm not writing this from the perspective of a jaded cynical possible spinster (minus the 13 cats). I'm writing because of a lesson I learned while I was stitching up my patchwork heart.

Don't get me wrong--it's not cynicism that tells me that a promise to never leave me, never forsake me and to die with me can not be upheld by another human being. It's reality. We are human--not perfect beings by any means. In my lifetime, I've heard those words from a couple of different husbands! I believed them because I trusted in the love we shared. Likewise, I've also MADE those promises with the best of intentions. But have I really kept them? I'm sitting here telling you I've had several husbands, so, no. I haven't kept my promises either. I think that we can strive to uphold our vows and promises of love and many of us will--especially if our heart is one that strives to be Christlike and love has He loved us.

But the REAL promises that God gives to us through His son Jesus Christ, are promises that I have decided to place my HOPE in. For He is the promise keeper, you know. And with each promise that He keeps, another stitch is removed from my fragile patchwork heart. As I come to BELIEVE in His promises of love, another bandaid is painlessly taken off. The real, unfailing LOVE that God gives to us, will never die. Never fade. Never fail. He will never ever leave us. He will never ever forsake or betray us.

And you know what, He already died for us!

.

Jesus is not in the Graveyard

2011-02-06T14:43:00.002-05:00

So today my pastor says "if you're looking for Jesus in the graveyard, you won't find him". Right then and there, microphone in hand, I had one of those 'A-ha' moments. (no, not the 80's 'Take on Me' group....more like my own personal revelation.)

It's a pretty fair assumption that most people know that Christ rose after three days. He died. His body sealed in a tomb. He rose. But think about it--He conquered death. He won. What can that mean for us in our every day hustle and bustle of life? It all boils down to God wins EVERY SINGLE TIME--even over death itself. You know, that's pretty impressive. Ok, take that back. It's very impressive--quite mind blowing if you think about it! NONE of the things life throws at us cannot be conquered by God. Hey, He put death in its grave right? Yeah, the hurt life throws at us doesn't magically disappear by God waving a wand. He just doesn't work that way. But He does let us know that He is stronger than anything--and He will be our strength and we will persevere.

Like so many people, I have been dealing. Dealing with fear. Dealing with pain. Dealing with dread, anxiety, hurt, you name it. It almost seems like on any given day, I'm dealing. What about you? I have a particular issue I've been dealing with and I've been on my knees praying for guidance. Praying for a miracle. Pretty much praying to get MY way! How's that praying for your way working out for you, Michelle, you might ask? Well, not very good. I'm still dealing. And the way I've been dealing is to succumb to all those negative feelings of anxiety, fear and hopelessness. That deal is getting me nowhere!

So today, a picture came in my head when Pastor Paul said, "if you're looking for Jesus in the graveyard, you won't find him". I saw myself, lost and alone--wandering through a graveyard. On each tombstone words like FEAR, DOUBT, ANXIETY, and more were written. It was dark and as I searched and searched, I could find nothing but more of the same fear, doubt and anxiety. I grew more and more desperate and panicked with each step.

Growing up the in the south, in the heart of the Bible belt, you can travel down country dirt roads, and you won't pass a gas station or grocery store for 20 miles, but I ain't lying when I tell you will see at least 4 country churches! (Can I get an Amen?) I figure life, our path, is a lot like that winding country road. We're gonna pass a lot of graveyards. For each new path, each new adventure we're placed upon, we're gonna pass a graveyard filled with anxiety, fear, doubt and more. I don't know about you, but I don't want to walk into that graveyard.

I don't want to revisit all those ghosts--the negativity that can only come from the enemy and lead us straight to nowhere. Straight to death. I want to focus on my King. I want to focus on the source of LIFE and LIGHT. The ONE that can lead me out of the graveyard. The ONE that can conquer all my fears. The ONE that lay death it it's grave!

How aware are YOU?

2011-02-01T08:10:00.001-05:00

As a high school teacher of teenagers, a mother of a teenager, and a domestic violence advocate, I feel the need to encourage all of you to educate yourselves on the growing problem of teen dating violence.

I can assure you, domestic violence is a problem in teen relationships. By the age of 16, one in four teenagers will have experienced some sort of dating violence! The first line of defense is education. A boyfriend or girlfriend calling to check each and every move is not healthy. A boyfriend or girlfriend hitting a locker out of anger is not healthy. Both are warning signs of abuse, however, teenagers, teachers, and many parents do not have that background education!

We see students interacting in dating relationships more closely than some parents. If you notice couples interacting in unhealthy ways-do something. Speak up! www.loveisnotabuse.com is a site dedicated to the education of teenagers on the sticky subject of dating violence. There are action steps listed as well.

Thanks for listening. Thanks for speaking up. Thanks for making a difference!

SIGNS OF DATING ABUSE

Everyone deserves a healthy relationship safe from violence and fear. Protect your teens from an abusive situation by learning these warning signs.

Your teen may be experiencing patterns of an unhealthy relationship if:

Your Teen:

Apologizes and/or makes excuses for his/her partner's behavior.

Loses interest in activities that he/she used to enjoy.

Stops seeing friends and family members and becomes more and more isolated.

Casually mentions the partner's violent behavior, but laughs it off as a joke.

Often has unexplained injuries or the explanations often don't make sense.

The Partner:

Calls your teen names and puts him/her down in front of others.

Acts extremely jealous of others who pay attention to your teen

Thinks or tells your teen that you, the parent(s), don't like them.

Controls your teen's behavior, checking up constantly, calling or texting, and demanding to know who he/she has been with.

Violently strikes objects or breaks things

To Give Without Taking

2011-01-28T09:29:00.001-05:00

Is it possible to really GIVE without wanting anything in return? We're not talking about becoming a doormat or being walked on---but simply giving of time, friendship, and a caring spirit without wanting anything back? Is this simple for you? Or does it come easily? Or maybe that little voice begin to nag at you that you aren't getting anything in return? That you are OWED time or caring?

I think if you feel owed, you aren't truly giving. Yet haven't we all done that? I know I have! We start to feel like we need something from someone else? And suddenly, they aren't meeting our expectations. We subconsciously set them up for failure, don't we? We started off giving but suddenly we feel we're owed something. How does the situation become so twisted? Human selfishness? But if we're honest with ourselves, it happens. And relationships become tainted because of that feeling of being OWED.

I don't want to place CONDITIONS of owing upon the people in my life. I want to love and give unconditionally.

I don't want to be a taker or to ever place an unnecessary burden of owing me upon someone else.

Resolution 2011: No more WHAT IF's

2010-12-31T12:58:00.001-05:00

* "What" and "If" are two very non threatening words, but when you put them together they could haunt you for the rest of your life. --Letter's to Juliet

Several times in my life I have pondered the difference between living and simply existing.
Really living involves risk. Taking a chance. A step out in faith. Existing is simply going through the motions of life without passion and without reward. Do you live or exist?

As this year comes to an end, I look back at all the healing I've done. I've made great strides to walk through the fire of a violent crime and rebuild my life. I've told my story and changed other's lives in the process. On the outside, I look like I have it all together, but we know that's a façade, because who really does? Not me by a long shot!

Resolutions are all about changing for the better, right? Sure I can work on losing my excess toddler weight (the term baby weight just can't apply 2.5 years after the fact, so I have coined a new phrase). I can cut down my Diet Coke intake (well, maybe a little). And if I really wanted to, I could even quit Facebook! But if I take a long, hard look in the mirror and see past those superficial things that can change due to just a little bit of lifestyle modifications, the deeper issues are what matter. I really wonder how can I make my 2011 a year where I really LIVE LIFE--not just go through the motions of living?

Looking back, it seems each time I have arrived at the crossroads in life where the risk of living comes into play, I am faced with my biggest enemy of all time: FEAR and it's favorite two minions: WHAT IF.
Is it just me? Or what has "WHAT IF" prevented you from doing in your own life? What dreams have been squelched by the pessimistic voice of fear that keeps us stagnant and complacent and unable to reach the stars and our true potential?

WHAT IF people don't understand when I stand up for what I believe? Fear of the unknown says I should stay quiet.

Oh, my dream job. I would love to take a step down in pay to feel complete and fulfilled in the workplace. But WHAT IF I can't make ends meet? Fear of the unknown will keep me miserable and trapped.

WHAT IF my heart gets broken? Fear of the unknown will always keep me alone.

I guess you get the picture. These are just my own examples and I don't have to be a rocket scientist to think maybe you have had to battle some FEAR and WHAT IF demons in your own life.

Well, I'm putting my foot down. I'm done with that chapter. I'm laying down the fear in my life. Today, I resolve to live each and every day with passion as though it may be my last. To let the people in life know they matter. And to never let the fear of the WHAT IF hinder my life and my dreams ever again! You know, the fear of WHAT IF can stop a dream dead in its tracks. It can prevent me from taking that step in faith into the unknown. It can prevent me from hoping tomorrow will be better, and it can keep me from opening my heart to love.

I really want the dreams of my heart to come true...hey, WHAT IF they do?

The Real Gift

2010-12-15T09:56:00.004-05:00

Last night, driving home under a starry sky, I was thinking about gifts. Presents. Giving to children.

I was on the way home from visitation number two. I had come to the place of acceptance and I was going to make the most of this visit. The last visit before Christmas. The case worker came back and told me, “We normally do not allow excessive gift giving, however, during Christmas, we allow the non-custodial parent to give as much as they like for Christmas. We want you to know, he has brought a LOT of gifts. The presents were unwrapped, new, and in packages and there are things like a kitchenette set, grocery cart, play purse, and several other age appropriate gifts. Be prepared to load up you car after the visit.” I said thank you. I knew that this would be the case.

“But I don’t want his gifts at my house,” I told my friend. “I don’t want her to see gifts and associate them with him. I just don’t want his gifts. I can give them to needy children, right?”

My friend, who was there to support me if I became emotional over the difficulty of giving my daughter over for a visit to the man who tried to murder her mother, was also the voice of reason. “I know you don’t like it, Michelle, but that selfishness makes her gifts about you. It’s not about you—it’s about her.”

She was so right. I was making the presents about me. If my daughter had been older, would I have taken gifts away from her and given them away? How would that have made her feel? What gave me the right to do the same because she is only two and doesn’t understand the situation? No rights to do that. It was wrong.

I thanked God for making me see the truth of the situation and we continued to wait for the clock to tick by and the hour passed quickly.
As my baby girl came running up to me after the visit, she was empty handed except for a pack of gum. (Which I quickly took away because for my two year old, gum=food=digestive issues for days afterwards!)

“I thought he gave her some Christmas gifts?” I asked the case worker.
“He did, but he decided to take them home with him.” She replied.

As we rode home, my baby girl didn’t talk about or ask for him. She didn’t talk about or ask for her kitchen, her shopping cart or her purse. She sure pitched a fit for that gum, though! My mind, however, was a jumble of thoughts, my heart a mess of emotion.
Was I really that shocked that he would bring Christmas presents to let a toddler play with—and then take them away? No. I was not. I am so thankful she is too young to understand this game of power and control her father thinks he can still play with her mother.

Later that night, as my baby girl slept, I read an story in an email. It was a story about a soldier fighting for our freedom in Afghanistan. A soldier passing through a village handing out candy and water to children, spots a particular little girl—somewhere between two and three years old—the same age as my baby daughter. Yet, unlike my child, this girl is living in a country depleted and ravaged by war. She is dirty, filthy, and has a look of nothing on her face. No emotion. No words does she speak. She doesn’t ask for anything. The soldier offers her candy. Still nothing. But something about this tiny tot made the soldier continue to try. He found a bag in his vehicle and he gathered up all the loose items he could find. Candy, some change, water, and more. A real Christmas sack of goodies. He knelt down and showed it to the girl and indicated to her that this was hers—she could have it all! Nothing. He turned to walk away. And that’s when he felt it. The tug on his pant leg as she had run to catch up with him. The little hands pulled him down to her to give him a hug and tiny dirty arms wrapped around this soldier’s neck. He said that it was no hug like he’d ever received. He could feel her happiness because of his gift to her. She appreciated what he’d done for her from the bottom of her heart. To her, the gift was so much more than a bag of odds and ends from an army vehicle.

The soldier went on to describe how that one hug reminded him that what he is doing, what his team is doing in this war zone, is worth it. To be touched in such a way is priceless and that what the troops give up to serve is so worth every minute, to receive what he’d been given with that one hug. What a gift for a soldier.

In just a few hours time, I’d witnessed opposite ends of the spectrum in giving.
I’d experienced a father lavishing gifts on his long lost daughter, only to take the toys and presents back home with him.
I’d read about a soldier who gave basically nothing of monetary value, yet he gave something much greater to a little girl, a got back tenfold in blessing.

So I ask you, who really gave a gift?
Who actually received a gift?

What kind of gift giver are you?
Thanks to a soldier, I now know the kind I strive to be.

Forgiveness

2010-12-10T09:40:00.002-05:00

For the most part, I think even if you weren’t raised in the Bible belt like I was, you’ve heard the phrase “love your enemies”. The Sermon on the Mount is a collection of Jesus’ teachings and sayings recorded in the book of Matthew where Jesus is pretty much laying it on the line for the crowds, taking Moses teachings of the Ten Commandments, and kicking it up a notch. Actually, he kicked it up several notches!

Jesus said: 43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ 44 But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you. So, what does that mean to you? Does that mean you pray for your neighbor who lets his five dogs poop in your yard? Does it mean you pray for the neighborhood bully who calls your son ugly names? Sure you can pray their eyes would be opened to truth, but what does it mean to LOVE THEM? Invite them for dinner? Send them a gift card for free therapy to help alter their behaviors? What?? How can you love someone who hurts you? What if the enemy does more than just annoying or critical behaviors? What if your enemy tried to kill you? How do you love them?

I’ve been thinking a lot about forgiveness, grace, and loving your enemies—not because I wanted to ponder this deep, spiritual question and have a heart to heart with the Lord, but because I have to. Two and a half years ago, I was married to a man that I desperately loved. However, he was a drug addict and he was violent. In a crack-cocaine induced rage, he attempted to murder me by strangling me while our five week old baby daughter slept. He went on to butcher 94 of my paintings with a knife. He cut my face out of photographs. Truly a psychotic rampage meant to take my life. Thankfully it did not.

I spent many years trying to protect my daughter and keep both of us safe from a monster that only served 28 days in a drug rehabilitation division of prison. Now, two and a half years later, the courts have ordered that he can see his daughter. One hour. Every two weeks. But he had to pass drug tests in order to continue visitation. From our history and what I knew of his history—I felt confident there would be no visitation. My world would not turned upside down and I would not have to deal with the gripping fear that I would have to place my most treasured possession into the hands of my ENEMY that tried to take my life. I knew I wouldn’t have to face that fear. He would never pass a drug test!

This week, much to my surprise, he did. He passed a hair test that dated his drug use back 6 months. No cheating. No faking the results. He did it. And my world has been rocked. I don’t want my baby to see this man. He tried to kill her mommy. But I have no choice. Helplessness and hopelessness is what I felt after receiving the test results. But the tug in my heart said
“Remember, Michelle. I love him, too. Just as much as I love you.”
And I knew God was right.

For many years I had prayed that the man I once loved so deeply would stop using drugs. God answered the prayer, right? But the answer sure did inconvenience me and shake up my world of safety and protection that I have created for my child. But it was an answered prayer. God once again has shown his faithfulness in my life. Who am I to tell God, “Hey, don’t answer it now….it’s bad timing!” As the day wore on, the nagging feeling in my heart continued to remind me how it didn’t seem right to have MY comfort level based on someone else’s failure. A failure that meant drug addiction, pain, and loss of quality of life. God reminded me that He had done a miraculous healing in my life—and he could do it in my ex-husband’s life as well. He even WANTED to! As I ended my day, I prayed that God would give me peace. Some prophetic wisdom to put my heart and mind at ease would work for me.

And it happened. This morning the sun was still shining. The world was still turning. And my baby daughter was still sleeping in her bed in our home. And the words “complete forgiveness” came to my mind. Throughout my journey of survival as a domestic violence victim, I’ve explored the topic of forgiveness many times. I learned that forgiveness does not mean you let the person who hurt you come home. You can set a boundary. But you must let go of the anger, bitterness, and hurt. True forgiveness is more about setting yourself free. I had that. I was there. But, that whole love your enemy thing—that was a different story. Not a fan. In fact, it was much easier to hate him. I am sure you would agree.

But God said otherwise. And I want to live a life where I listen to Him. Hey, He knows much more than me anyway—why not trust His plan and His timing? Complete forgiveness means loving your enemy. This man, my ‘enemy’ is God’s child. God wants the absolute best for him and if my daughter’s father is willing to let God do the work, then he will be the best for my daughter. And I can be ok with that. I want that for him. I want that for her. I want him to be the very best he can be for her. I can’t wish failure on him. I can’t cling to hope that is rooted in the downfall of another of God’s children. I can’t withhold that blessing from him. It’s not up to me.

And the light switch was turned on. Granted, the bulb is not burning really bright. Sometimes even the most obedient to the Lord have to be dragged fingernails scraping the ground as we go.

But I’m going.

I’m listening.