You Just Don't Know

Today I heard several people commenting about suicide.  They had the typical responses to the word that many people don't understand.

People tend to believe suicide is a selfish choice made by a person who just didn't understand how to find the positive in life.  They make comments about how awful it is for that person to have done "that" to their family. 

I have come to the conclusion that those people have lived blessed lives in which suicide has never filtered through their thinking.  How wonderful it must be to have a life that has never offered such a deep hurt to bring a person to that permanent solution.

It's personally hard to hear those comments knowing how I think and what I have been through.

Let me say that I have lost friends and family members to suicide.  I have never felt as though they were selfish.  In fact, I have been heartbroken for them that their life had taken them in that direction.

It is only honest for me to say I often feel the same way.   For the past several years, I try to make a point to share appreciation with those who care about me.  Always because I am appreciative of what they have done in my life, but also because I never want there to ever be any question.   If day comes when I truly cannot handle my life any more, I want those people to know they did what they could and they are never to blame.

Because I have spent a lot of time thinking through this for myself, I can honestly say that I believe those who take their lives are victims of suicide. 

There has never been someone take their own life who doesn't have any problems.  They are sick people who aren't able to get through that illness.  Some live with depression or chronic physical pain and others have made mistakes which they feel are unforgivable.  Some people live without any hope that their lives will improve.

Regardless of the situation, the truth remains the same.  The person has an illness and often untreated.  I believe it is the illness which drives them to take their lives.

In my case, I have an illness which statistically reads like a life long battle with years in therapy and not being able to lead a life that I had dreamed of having.  There is a good reason why insurance companies refuse to offer life insurance to people like me.  The risk is too high.

I have seen great depths of evil and often feel as though I can't possible go through another painful event.  There are even times I want to offer a way out for those who take care of me.  It only takes one blow up with my husband to drive me to want to allow him to spend the rest of his life without having to deal with me. 

There are times when I feel like a walking open wound and that there is no way out of the mess I am in.  My parents didn't want me and only saw me as a burden.  It's easy to think the rest of the world would feel the same.  It isn't a selfish act that would drive me to do it, it is the illness that keeps me down.

The truth is that unless you have been down that path, you really can't say anything about suicide.  You just don't know how deep the pain was nor how dark the place where they lost their fight.

Not Quite the Same

It's almost 10 PM on Thanksgiving day and I've yet to do anything more significant than shower.  I wasn't sick, not physically anyway.  The reality of the season kicked my butt today and rendered me useless.

Most years, we make a whirlwind trip back to Kent's parents just to eat lunch.  The last time I saw any of my family on a holiday was over five years ago.  Since then, it's always been hard to visit Kent's family.  They live minutes from mine and not seeing my niece's and nephew's is painful.

This year we thought we would try to avoid the emotional drag of the Thanksgiving weekend by traveling to Branson.  We have a little cabin that we just love, nestled away from all the traffic and crowds.  The cabin has everything we need to feel at home.

Kent made some amazing chili and cleaned up the kitchen.  I watched the Macy's parade without seeing much of it, losing my focus to what was really in my heart.

The overwhelming loneliness that settles deep in my heart this time of year had taken hold even though I had tried to run from it.  No family to celebrate with.  No real progress in the hardest parts of my life to be thankful for this year.  Not even turkey, dressing or homemade pie.

I do have things to be thankful for this year.  However, I am thankful for those things all the time and not just on a day which draws you to thankfulness.

The truth is that having no children and no family and so many issues that I must live in a self-protective bubble doesn't get any easier.  And....it only gets more difficult through Christmas.

My holiday funk this year just happens to hit me as my spiritual life is feeling rocky at best.  All the while I have to try to produce an outward smile to make those around me comfortable. 

The past few years I have gone into this time of year seriously wondering if this would be the last time I would feel this way.  I don't think this year is any different.  I can't help but think that even if I tried, I'd still be hit with the same problem next year.

I've been accused of being overly negative.  How can it be negative if it's exactly what's in your heart and that honesty comes pouring out?  Oh well, that's another post for another day.

I sincerely hope your holiday was filled with family, friends and good food. 

All I Want for Christmas

...is a fireplace mantle. 

I know that might seem like an odd thing to wish for, but maybe not when you understand why.

As you can imagine, my childhood was filled with trauma and pain.  Each year I allowed myself to be full of hope, only to have it ripped away.  My parents fulfilled only empty promises and left me heartbroken.  They thought it was funny to take me to see Santa and let me excitement grow.  On Christmas morning, I often found nothing for me or empty boxes filled with the echoes of my parents laughter as they watched my tears fall to the bottom.  On occasion, I opened heavy, full gifts to find miscellaneous items for my brothers. 

My grandma always hung stockings on fireplace for each of the six of us grandchildren.  The other five had candy and toys filling their stockings.  Because my grandma knew my dad would never allow me to keep candy or toys, she filled my stocking with apples, oranges and bananas.  While it wasn't a complete disappointment, it still hurt.  As a kid, I wondered why Santa wouldn't give me the same goodies the other kids got.  However, it was better than nothing...never questioning and secretly crying in the corner.

When Kent and I looked at houses, I desperately wanted one with a fireplace.  It wasn't that I wanted a fireplace so much as a mantle.  I envisioned hanging stockings on the mantle for my kids, my husband and myself, filling them with everything wonderful. 

I may not have been able to ever have stockings for children, but for 12 years I have been able to hang stockings for Kent, the dogs and myself.  I fill each of the stockings and Kent fills mine.  Without fail, we have been able to fulfill that deep-seeded desire to have a tradition which moves me further away from the many years of disappointment.

This year we won't be able to continue our tradition and it's difficult to accept. 

Most of the house has been refinished since March of this year.  It wasn't our decision to do the complete overhaul of the house, although it needed done.  We were pushed into the decision by someone who hadn't considered what it would take to put back together.  That person failed to take into consideration that we didn't have the finances to pay people to put the house back together once it was torn apart.  We've gotten a lot done, but it's far from finished.

We had a few people help paint and do a couple miscellaneous repairs, but for the most part it has fallen all on Kent.  He works three jobs and rarely has time to take on any of the many projects which are left.  One of those projects is the mantle.

Our old mantle was ugly, but functional.  It was ripped off the wall without any regard for when we be able to replace it.  We found a mantle several months back.  But the mantle is very low on the priority list, I mean we still don't have a bathroom sink installed in our 1/2 bath.  So, it stays sitting in the box nestled in the back of the garage.

That silly mantle is a double whammy for me this year.  It symbolizes wreck most of this past year has been and all the mess that is still undone in our lives or house.  It also brings back some of those same feelings of disappointment that I've been keeping at bay for the past 12 years.

I don't care that the house remodel has tapped us out and there won't be much under the tree.  My Christmas list consists of finishing the house with the mantle on the top of the list.

Dry as a Desert

What would you say if I told you that I hadn't opened my bible in over a year?  What would you say if I told you I hadn't been to church more than once or twice in over three months?  What would you say if I told you that I rarely pray?  What would you say if I said I had only limited involvement in bible study or church groups?  Would you have a response?  Would you shake your head and walk away thinking it was my problem to deal with?  Would you discuss it further with a genuine concern for my spiritual life?

Chances are you would never know because it would be rare for me to share those things with anyone for fear of judgement.  I mean how in the world could I call myself a Christian if this is how I live my life, right?

But guess what?  All those things are true, brutally so.  Do I think I'm really a Christian?  I mean how dare I call myself one if I don't live like one.  Honestly, I don't know. Maybe I'm not a Christian.  I belong to a church, prayed the prayer to accept Christ as my Savior and truly do believe there is a God who loves me. 

In fact, I am confident in that.  Do I necessarily believe God is all that I have been told?  Probably not, but that's why I don't consider myself a mature Christian.  I suppose my confidence lies more in believing that God knows exactly how I feel right now.

Maybe it's just a phase people go through, I'm not sure.  Nobody really ever talks about this part of being a Christian much, so it's hard to know if I'm the only person to ever feel this way or not.

My bible has been in a case floating from room to room and being tucked into places with the occasional dusting of the cover, but hasn't been cracked open in a year.  In fact, it is a very nice study bible and I think it's been open maybe a dozen times in three years.  I like to use the excuse that nobody ever explained to me how to use it.  But the truth is more that I know what to do with it.  I can open it to a page and read, but the words aren't going to make sense to me.

I can give you many, many excuses about why I don't go to church.  I'm not sure any of them are valid enough to skip out for the past several months.  If you know much about me, you might have some understanding of the constant battles in life I face.  But it's a special kind of battle that usually starts on Saturday night and follows me into Sunday.  I have more than a resistance to church.  Repulsion is probably more like it.  The few times I have gone have been absolutely fruitless and I was not able to take in one word of what was said and log it to memory...let alone apply it to my life.

The same is true for bible studies.  This is probably the one area where I continue to show up even if I don't feel up to it or know it's not sinking into my thick head.  It's rare for me to make it to the various bible studies around church, but I have managed to pick up some privately.  I really do try in those times and continue to do so, but there seems to be a wall that just won't crumble for me.

I have left or just stopped going to any and all small groups I was once involved in at church.  To show up for those only makes me feel like a hypocrite when I constantly bail on everything else.  Why not be consistent, right?  As much as I love singing and being in choir, I can't bring myself to go to that either.  Why go when I'm not there on Sunday.

That brings me to prayer.  I'm not convinced that prayer is of any help at all.  If God is truly sovereign, then what place does prayer have in a Christian life?  I wish someone would explain that to me.  Why bother asking when God's going to do what God's already planning to do?  What makes me think that my words or thoughts would have any influence over that?  Well, I don't believe they would.  Prayer is something I certainly don't understand and the common, "Do it because it's the right thing to do," answer doesn't really work for me.

Yes, my spiritual life is like a dry desert full of dust covered sand and the remains of what was once a growing land of trees and grass that has long dried up.

Don't get me wrong, everything I've written in the past I fully believe to be true.  And, I don't necessarily believe God has left me.  Although I do think I'm a million miles away and continuing to head even further.  That brings this song to mind and I think is very fitting of how I feel right now.

Maybe I've left Him.  Not because He had nothing to offer me, but maybe because I didn't know how to get what I needed.  It's way easier to give up and move on than to figure out how get what you need.

You Tube

I am by no means technologically challenged, but putting together a music video slide show for You Tube was a challenge.

A little over a year ago, I put together a slide show to Matthew West's song "Broken Girl."  Since the post date, it has been watched nearly 100,000 times. 

The slide show is a personal collection of photos, including one of my baby photos and another recent photo of me.  It was an easy decision to include those.  You see, I believe I was born absolutely perfect and was meant to be a blessing to my parents.  That was not to be the case with my family and various abusers making me a broken girl.

Admittedly, I am not a big fan of the actual music.  However, the words are my life.  Putting my pictures to these words was a way for me to tell the world that the shame of my abuse falls on the abusers and NOT on me.  It was my personal admission that I did nothing to deserve it, nor could I have prevented it.  It was my personal way to stand up and be counted as one of the millions. 

The video has taken on a life of it's own or maybe a ministry.  Several times a week, girls and women of all ages not only watch but leave comments.  Some of them credit the song for giving them strength.  Some of them are at their lowest point and they find comfort in knowing they are not alone.  Some of them are searching for something to hold onto, they are searching for Jesus.  Some of them come broken with the belief they will never be anything but broken.

Some of the girls have contacted me directly.  I never think twice about reaching out to those girls and women.  I always pray for them.  I always recommend they reach out for help locally.  There are times I even have to give out crisis phone numbers for those who mention suicide. 

I have even been contacted by boyfriends and husbands who ask how they can best help their girlfriends and wives who have been abused. 

The first young lady to ever contact me has stayed in constant contact with me.  Through facebook, I have watched her life change dramatically over the past six months.  She graduated high school, found a job, is headed to school in two months, began talking with her dysfunctional family and is finally in steady counseling.  It has been amazing to see her life change and grow. 

I'm not taking any credit for anything that has transpired from that video.  I don't think I've changed anyone and I don't think I have done anything aside from posting the video.  But it is amazing to watch God use a video or a song to speak to all the broken girls.

Another Song, Another Season

These past few days have been miserable, rainy and cold, but the worst is being stuck at home.  The walls of this little house seem a lot closer together each day.  As much as I hate it, I feel tucked away.  Being tucked away safe and alone and yet the being alone leaves a wide open door for my heart and mind to wander astray.

Luckily, my insanity is broken with moments of profound thought or a song that sticks to me like glue. The past couple days, the song has been "Before the Throne of God Above."


 

I can't tell you where I heard this the first time, but the words have settled into my heart.  The music fits like an old shirt that you can't ever throw out.   And, it fell into me at a perfect time.

Having tried to explain why this song means so much right now might just be more difficult than I had previously thought it to be.  Maybe the unspoken is a stronger statement than any words I could lay before you.

I could readily admit to all of the sin I have been embracing on a daily basis and happily so.  I could tell you that I feel millions of miles away from God at the moment.  I could tell you that my life is silently in an upheaval which only those closest to me see right now.  I could tell you that loneliness has settled deep into my soul and I am living in a self induced drought.  I could tell you that little in life has much meaning to me and that I constantly question if my life has any value.

Would you really care even if I did tell you all of that?  I'm not asking if you would have empathy for me and where I am in life.  But more so, would you care enough to step in, walk beside, not allow even the most persistent resistance to pull you away from the goal? 

Maybe you would, maybe you wouldn't.  Most wouldn't want to jump into the depths of the deep dark hole which isn't your own, crawling out one step at a time.  But this song, it tells me who would. 

Now, if I could find a way to tear down the wall which stands tall and strong between me and the one who can. 

Before the throne of God above

I have a strong, a perfect plea

A great high Priest whose Name is Love

Who ever lives and pleads for me

My name is graven on His hands

My name is written on His heart

I know that while in heaven He stands

No tongue can bid me thence depart

No tongue can bid me thence depart


When Satan tempts me to despair

And tells me of the guilt within

Upward I look and see Him there

Who made an end to all my sin

Because the sinless Savior died

My sinful soul is counted free

For God the just is satisfied

To look on Him and pardon me

To look on Him and pardon me



Behold Him there the risen Lamb

My perfect spotless righteousness

The great unchangeable I am

The King of glory and of grace

One with Himself I cannot die

My soul is purchased by His blood

My life is hid with Christ on high

With Christ my Savior and my God!

With Christ my Savior and my God!



One with Himself I cannot die

My soul is purchased by His blood

My life is hid with Christ on high

With Christ my Savior and my God!

With Christ my Savior and my God!

Oh Nuts!

I may not consider myself a picky eater, but I have learned to be one out of necessity.  When you are allergic to so many things, you have to be.

Last week while I was having lunch with a friend, I ordered a salad with walnuts and asked them to hold the walnuts.  When I got my salad, there was a bright, shiny chunk of walnut.  I asked the waiter to take it back, which he did.  Coming back with a freshly made salad was great, but his response wasn't so much.  He didn't really apologize and offered the excuse that just a small piece had fallen in while it was being made.  That small chunk could have caused me to spend the afternoon in the ER.

I often wonder why there are so many people without food allergies who are quick to dismiss those of us who do.  It's not that chose to be allergic to any particular food. It actually makes life just a little more difficult.

Some of my food allergies are minor and won't land me in the hospital.  I can eat avocado, but I can't let it touch my any of the skin on my face or I will break out.  The same is true with strawberries.  I love both of them.  With both, I'll get a little itchy if I eat too much.  Since I love traveling to Mexico, which is the home of guacamole, I'll gladly deal with the itchy occasionally.  The same thing happens with cream cheese.

Other things pose a higher risk for me.  It is a good thing I don't like bell peppers because I learned a couple years ago that I am allergic to them.  Oddly, red bell peppers are worse than green.  My tongue will swell and I will quickly not be able to breathe.

Swelling and not being able to breathe is my common reaction to shellfish and assorted nuts.  Most of the time, kids have allergies that they sometimes grow out of as they get older.  I'm just the opposite.  I didn't have many of these allergies as a kid.  I wasn't allergic to peanuts, walnuts, brazil nuts or hazelnuts 5-10 years ago.  I also wasn't allergic to shellfish until about 12 years ago.

It was rare, but I used to eat shrimp as often as I could.  It never bothered me at all.  While eating it during a girl's night at Red Lobster, I started to feel a tingle in my throat and was short of breath by the time we left.  I tried a few more times and had an even quicker response time. 

I lived on PB&J as a kid.  The only candy I used to eat had peanut butter in it.  About 5 years ago, I started to notice that I couldn't catch my breath after eating a peanut flavored candy.  Not long after that I had a similar reaction to hazelnut candies Kent had given me for Valentines Day.  Finally, allergy testing would show reactions to peanuts, walnuts, brazil nuts and hazelnuts.  Do you know how hard it is to safely eat a lot of foods with a peanut allergy?  Several places use peanut oil for frying or add peanuts to sauces.

One of my craziest allergies is to latex.  Latex gloves will make my hands turn red and swell.  Even latex used in elastic bands sewn in clothes will cause a reaction. 

Of course I have all the fun seasonal and plant allergies.  Just about any flower will make me sneeze or take my breath away.  Mold, grass, dust, etc. all do the same.  Again, I didn't start having these types of allergies until I was 19.

Maybe the worst reactions I have ever had were to medications.  I know this sounds contrary to how many people think, but I would love to be able to take medication for anxiety.  The problem is that most meds used for anxiety I have tried and have an allergic reaction to.  The same is true for most meds used as sleep aids and many, many antibiotics.

I guess I've learned to adapt and stay very alert to food.  But, I can't help but wonder why I seem to be allergic to more things as I age.

Throw Them Hands Up

Why do people raise their hands in worship?

As a frequent concert goer, I have seen a lot of hands up in the air during worship.  However, I rarely see it in my church.  While talking with a friend recently, she commented that she was only able to raise her hands during private worship. 

That comment swirled around a whole 12 hours before I decided I needed to dig a little deeper into this.  I realized I had made a lot of assumptions about this activity, which may or may not be true and I wanted to know.

So, I did what any curious American would do.  I googled it!

What I found was that some of my assumptions were correct, others were not.

I thought my church was a little stuffy on this.  I'm not sure that was totally correct, but I found some information which might support why they seem stuffy.  Evidently, raising hands in worship has been considered part of charismatic worship.  And, charismatic has been labeled BAD because it appealed to emotions instead of intellect.  In my church, plenty has been said about charismatics both directly and indirectly.  I can certainly understand why people would be hesitant to throw their hands up and worship freely.  Sad, but true.

Another thought I had which was only partially true was that the act of raising hands was a movement of the holy spirit in you during singing or prayer time.  That might be true, but I found some specific guidelines while researching this topic.

Two-handed; hands raised, palms facing inward signifies the act of receiving.  It is described as asking God to give or speak to you.

Two-handed; hands raised, palms facing outward signifies the act of standing in awe.  This could also be a sign of surrender.  It gives us a non-verbal way to say, "Hear I am, completely unworthy but I give myself fully to You."

One hand raised; palm facing outward is a sign of testimony or that you agree.  It is also a way to show commitment. 

It is hard for me to make the connection in all of these to being motivated solely by feeling. 

Isn't it true that the bible states very clearly that we are to do all of these things?  We are to ask God for what is needed through prayer.  We are to surrender to God.  We are to agree with the bible, if we didn't then we wouldn't be Christians. 

Since I don't know the bible well enough, I doubt I would have found this without my dear friend google.  There are actually scriptures straight from the bible which support this idea that it is ok to raise your hands during worship.  In fact, I think it encourages it.

Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify you.  I will praise you as long as I live, and in your name I will lift up my hands.  Psalm 63:3-4

Praise the Lord, all you servants of the Lord who minister by night in the house of the Lord.  Lift up your hands in the sanctuary and praise the Lord.  Psalm 134:1-2

I spread out my hands to you; I thirst for you like a parched land.  Psalm 143:6

Therefore I want the men everywhere to pray, lifting up holy hands without anger or disputing.  1 Timothy 2:8

Let us lift up our hearts and hands to God in heaven.  Lamentations 3:41

For I lift up my hand to heaven and swear, As I live forever.  Deuteronomy 32:40

Whatever prayer, whatever plea is made by any man or by all your people Israel, each knowing the affliction of his own heart and stretching out his hands toward this house.  1 Kings 8:38

Hear the voice of my pleas for mercy, when I cry to you for help, when I lift up my hands toward your most holy sanctuary.  Psalm 28:2

Obviously, you can see what I see.  It's stated many times, many ways in the bible.  I ask, if it is in the bible, how can it be considered bad?

Here I am at my next question, the $1000 question.  If you feel led to raise your hands during worship and don't, why?  Are you denying the holy spirit because of what man says or your fear judgement in the world? 

I may not know much, but what I do know is that the bible should be the base of what is true for you and me.  I believe we should fear what the bible says we should fear. 

So, after much research, reading and looking at what the bible says.....THROW THEM HANDS UP and worship God.