Child of God

Maybe it's because I didn't have good parents. Maybe it's because I didn't have the comfort, love, and security we associate with parents when I was growing up. Maybe it's simply my own emotional immaturity.

Whatever the reason, when we were asked at Bible Study the other night to read Ephesians 1:3-14, and share which verse(s) spoke the most to us about our identity in Christ, I had no hesitation in selecting verse 5:

He destined us for adoption as his children through Jesus Christ, according to the good pleasure of his will (Ephesians 1:5)

All over social media (especially Facebook), I see memes posted: "share if you had a wonderful father"... "share if your mom was always there for you"... "share if you had hardworking parents". I used to get a little jealous because I couldn't reshare those images. That wasn't my childhood. And today? I don't even speak to my parents (more their choice than mine).

As humans, we generally equate parents with the people who provide for our needs - physical, emotional, intellectual, and spiritual. They provide us a roof over our heads, and food and clothing (these things my parents did do). But, parents generally also provide a safe place to go to when we're sad, or hurt, or angry. They offer us comfort. They celebrate our accomplishments. They teach us and love us. They kiss our skinned knees, and embrace us when we're crying.

I didn't have that. This simple fact alone is what kept me from God for many years. God is our father (and mother)... and my only examples of what a father or mother portraits was not so great. But now, I realize that God is not our earthly parents. All those things we equate with parents, God provides. He provides our basic necessities. He is there to embrace us when we're hurt and scared and angry. He is there to guide us and He loves us unconditionally.

We are children of God. We have been adopted by Him, through Jesus Christ. And this, above all else, provides me with comfort and peace. I am a beloved child of God.

Blessed

Today I had the privilege to witness the baptism of six children (and became godmother to four of them). It was such a moving experience to watch this - and a reminder to myself that I, too, am one of God's children.

Shortly before the service, we'd been having a discussion with the pastor, and one of the women told him she'd like to be baptized again. He explained that we don't need a second baptism (nor do we do additional baptisms), but I could understand her desire.

A few years ago, while in a deep depression and feeling very alone, I turned to a pastor. Finally, he drug me into the sanctuary, up to the baptismal font. He had me dip my hands in the water, and dipped his own into it and made a cross on my forehead with the water. For the first time possibly ever, I truly felt that I was a blessed child of God. I felt peace. I felt loved.

It wasn't a second baptism, but it was a reminder of who I am. It was a reminder of what I am. And I think this is something we all need from time to time. There are times when I'm depressed that I will dip my hand into water and draw a cross on my forehead myself, just as a physical reminder. There are times I will just stand under the shower and let myself feel the Holy Spirit within the water.

And there are times, like today, when I get the opportunity to be reminded as I watch others be baptized, and can feel God. There is no greater feeling than that of God's grace and love, and the knowledge that I am His beloved child - that I am blessed.

Religion is Child Abuse

A Google+ friend of mine shared this image earlier today, and it got me thinking...

It's completely right... and completely wrong.

Religion Done Wrong

I was brought up in the church... or, at least, with a church history and education (Sunday School, Pre-confirmation, confirmation, attendance at church many Sundays, etc. I was taught that I am:

• Broken
• Flawed
• Sinful
• Dumb
• Weak
• Nothing

I've witnessed other people - children and adults - being taught the same thing. The pastor/preacher/priest prattles on from the pulpit about how we're all broken, sinful people. We're all unworthy nothings. And... there the message stops (and/or, that's where we stop listening).

Religion Done Right (aka Relationship instead of Religion)

The full message, if the pastor/preacher/priest were to finish it (or, if we were to listen to the end) is...

We're all broken, sinful people. We're unworthy of God's love. But that's okay. We're still beloved children of God. Whether or not we deserve God's grace and love does not matter - we have it anyway. Through Christ, our sins are forgiven and our brokenness is overlooked and we are not nothings.

God did not create worthless people with nothing to offer this world. He created people who are

• Full of wonder
• Smart
• Great learners
• Beautiful
• And who have a potential for greatness!

Religion is Child Abuse... But Not Always

With the picture above, when it was shared, talked about how religion is child abuse. And, I've heard this before - teaching children religion is child abuse. Well...

Anyone who lets the message stop at us being broken, sinful and unworthy - yes, I would agree this would be child abuse (or, adult abuse). Anyone who would insult another to this degree, knocking them down and making them feel like they can never be enough - yes, they are abusing the person, abusing God's Word, and abusing the position of teaching God has given them.

Those who teach that God did not create us to be worthless... those who teach that God did not say "you will never be enough"... those who teach God's love regardless of our sinfulness and brokenness... These are the people who understand the message of God. These are the people who are not abusing the child (or adult).

Maybe it would be better for us to teach... With Christ, you are Something! rather than Without Christ, you are Nothing! I don't know... it's the same thing... and yet...

The Condemned House

Last night's Bible Study was another great one, and really made me think. Quite scary indeed. It started with asking us what we think of when we think of a condemned house. Of course, our answers included run-down, dilapidated, dirty, broken, unlivable, unlikable, dangerous, and many other adjectives.

The lesson discussed how no matter how many coats of paint you cover a condemned house in, it's still this way on the inside. You can pretty-up the outside as much as you want, that doesn't make the inside less broken and dirty.

It then went on to bring this to the state of our own hearts.

How many of us see our own hearts in this same light? I know personally, I should have a "Condemned" sign stamped right across mine. It's broken, run-down, dirty. It is unlovable. And I definitely don't see it as something that can be lived in. It's been abused and mistreated. It's been beaten down and slapped around. It's led me to sin time and again.

I put on masks all the time, hiding what is truly inside. I pretty up the package to disguise the true brokenness that resides within. I slap those coats of bright colored paint on. But I know my heart still has that "Condemned" sign nailed to it. But the paint isn't enough. There are also fences - tall barbed wire fences - keeping people away. Yep, pretty house... move along. You don't want to go in. You don't want to see what's inside. Continue on your way. Just Stay Away!

But there is One who still is willing to love me, regardless of the unlovable nature of my heart. There is still One who is willing to reside within my unlivable heart. As unworthy as I may be, God still loves me. He is still within me. He is busy at work tidying up and patching up all the brokenness. He stands beside me as I slowly allow more to scale that fence and come inside.

No matter how broken you think your heart is... no matter how abused and beaten down and dirty your heart is... God looks beyond that and loves you anyway. We are beloved children of God.

God bless!

Note: this isn't the end of the story of the condemned house. There is so much more to say, it will be expanded on in the days to come.

OMG... I What!??!!?

I was reading/working in my "God's Great Blessings devotional" tonight - trying to get a little caught up. I finally finished the 2nd virtue/blessing. The second week's word was "Loving."

In case I forgot to explain... the way this book is set up, there are 6 days which each have a scripture reading and then a devotional, all having to do with one specific virtue, and then the 7th day is just questions reflecting on that virtue. So, January 1-7 was about Listening. And the 8-14 was about Loving (yes, I'm a week behind... a two week trip to Iowa will do that...).

The 6 days on Loving... 

Loving: As God Sings; As God Deserves; As God Loves; My Spouse; With All Knowledge; and My Enemies.

So, I reread each scripture passage, and each devotional, making mental notes as I went along; and sometimes pausing to meditate and pray on a certain section. I love the topic of love in the Bible. I just knew I'd come up with something great on the topic to write a post about. But... before I started writing my post, I wanted to check out day 7 and get those questions out of the way so I could really focus on my post.

"Do you love yourself? What exactly does that mean to you?"

Answer: "Yes."

WOAH! What?!? Hold up! Back up! Delete...
And, reread the question. "Do you love yourself?"

"Yes."

I sat staring at that one little word for several minutes. Even now, writing this post... writing that answer... I find myself stopping and staring at those three little letters.

Yes? Where on earth did that answer come from? Well, of course, the answer to "where on earth did that answer come from" is easy now... it didn't come from earth. It came from God.

But quite honestly, I was (am) shell-shocked at the ease of which that answer slipped from my fingertips. I have never loved myself. I have never found myself worthy of love - not from myself, nor from friends or family, and especially not from God. Things in my past... things in my present... most likely things in my future... all prevent me from being worthy of love - or, at least, this was my thinking before.

But somehow, somewhere, at some point in time, it finally sunk in. I am loved. I am worthy of love. And I do love myself. Ok, so maybe I'm not really always all that worthy of love - especially from God, considering all the ways I've found to be stupid in my life. But, He still loves me! I AM a beloved child of God! Oh My God, I want to scream this from the rooftop. I'm suddenly so completely filled with love, I'm crying. I'm overwhelmed with it all... but in a spectacular way. I want to run around from person to person, giving each one a big kiss on the cheek and proclaiming "YOU are loved"... "and YOU are loved!"... "and YOU are loved!"...and then go kiss a mirror and scream "I love you!"

And, I've gotten myself so completely energized and excited and filled with love, that I have completely forgotten where I intended on going with this post. Therefore, I'm not even going to bother to try making it go anywhere.... it's already gone to the most important place - Love.

I LOVE MYSELF! Thank you God! And, thank you! 

And to all my lovely, wonderful readers and friends.... I love you, and God loves you, too. And I pray you all love yourselves, because you are worth it.

God Bless!
 

I Need a Daddy to Cry To

 

 "Children often run to a parent and just want to be held as they cry over whatever it may be. We are God's children and sometimes we need to do the same."

I reread those words a few times last night. And again today. It's a bit funny to me how one's reaction to something differs each time it's read. 

The first time, I shrugged it off as someone grasping at something to say to me during one of my depressive little fits. I'd emailed him, all depressed, seeking... I don't know what. Comfort? Advice? Just the knowledge that someone was there? And he was answering. 

Then I read it again, and tried to recall a time when I actually felt I could go cry to my parents and have them hold me. No such memory appeared. Maybe, before my dad married again, I was able to go to him for comfort. I'm sure I was, although no such time comes to mind. Did he hold me and comfort me when he found out I'd been sexually abused for years by his friend? I don't think so. What about something more simple - did he offer comfort when I tripped over my beach towel and needed stitches in my forehead (note: never use a towel as a jump rope in the middle of a road)? Again, I don't think so. 

I read it again. Maybe he's right. Maybe that's what it was. Maybe that's why, for no apparent reason, I found myself drawn to the church. Maybe that's why I sat in the sanctuary, in the back pew, hands folded, and tears falling down my cheeks. I didn't have any words to pray to God. I wasn't looking for any answers, signs, advice, etc. I was just there, crying. Maybe I was simply seeking the comforting arms of a father.

Today, I read his words again. And again. Each time, things becoming clearer. I could feel the sadness creeping in even more. But wait. This was different. This wasn't my depression. This was a sadness, accompanied by knowledge, and a bit of comfort and peace.

I could hear the words again that had been spoken quite adamantly to me several months ago... "You are a beloved child of God."

 

I don't think I've ever realized what I am missing in regards to a father. I had a dad. My mom left when I was 2 years old, leaving my dad to raise two young girls. I remember having the admiration you hear about when it comes to young girls with their dads. I was most definitely a daddy's girl. Well, actually, I was more daddy's little tomboy. I worked on the car with him, and carpentry. I wanted to be just like him. He was my hero.

Of course, that was through a child's eyes. He was actually a recovering alcoholic with many issues - most specifically, depression. He was in and out of hospitals those first 8 years of my life. But, I still see those years as he being a good dad. Even if he didn't realize his best friend was hurting me... he was still a good dad. Even if he couldn't always be there.. he was still a good dad.

But then he got married. And things got bad. Through the following years which were filled with intense physical and emotional abuse (including by my father), I still sought my dad's approval. I still desperately needed my daddy - his support, and love, and acceptance, and the safety he was supposed to provide. And he continuously kicked me down (actually, quite literally), and turned his back on me, and emotionally abandoned me. Every now and then, I'd see the man I recalled from my early years. I held on to these moments.

It's actually kind of strange... when I think back to my childhood years, regarding how I looked at my dad, versus how I looked at God - it was pretty much the same. As a young child, I remember holding God quite high in my thoughts. I wanted to please God. I loved saying bedtime prayers, and going to church and Sunday School. I loved God. As I got older, part of me still wanted to please Him, but more and more a large part of me felt like He had abandoned me. He wasn't there for me the way God should be - the way a Father should be.

Do we all do this? Does our view of God reflect what are feelings are for our fathers? Maybe this is why I find it such a struggle now, as an adult, to comprehend God's place in my life and what kind of a God He is. I have unintentionally clung for so long to Him being like my earthly father, that I do not truly know Him for the Father he is.

Am I still seeking some resemblance of an earthly father? Is this what causes me to act so irrationally at times in regards to certain people? Am I looking for a daddy whose shoulder I can cry on? One who will hold me when life gets to be too much? One who will let me stumble, but will always be there to catch me, the way a father should?

Maybe, just maybe, I need a daddy to cry to. Maybe, it's time I let God be that Father.

You Are More

 

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

 

 The full lyrics to this song can be found after my rambling... but I had to post the chorus right away, simply because of its importance. 

I've heard this song a few times in the past, and I've liked it since I heard it, but it was just one of many songs I like. But this morning, I found it rather interesting that I awoke with the lyrics playing over and over in my head.

 

Last night/this morning, I had a short email conversation with a very wonderful and patient friend. And, it was essentially in regards to this song. Well, actually, it was about the subject matter of this song, although unrealized at the moment. We were discussing sin. We were discussing the stupid decision people make. And how God loves us regardless of the stupid mistakes. Well... he was discussing how God loves us regardless. I was, as per usual, attempting to argue with him.

It always seems we have at least one mistake we're destined to repeat over and over again. Maybe it's drinking. Cursing. Porn. Gambling. Sex. Stealing. Pushing people away. The list goes on. We are all sinners. And we all have our vices.... some more serious than others. And some of us are just determined to continue screwing up. 

And, some of us slip into feeling we've "fallen too far to love." How can anyone love us for the mistakes we continuously make? How can God continue to love us? 

I highly suggest everyone not only listen to the lyrics, but also watch the video for this song. What would your chalkboard say? How full of words and sins and fears would it be? About 3 minutes into the song, watch what happens to that chalkboard. That's how it is for us. This is what was given to us because of Jesus' sacrifice. Because God gave His Son. All those sins... washed away. And we continue to be beloved children of God because of this. 

Some days, it truly is almost impossible to believe this. It's difficult to believe that no matter how many times we mess up... no matter how many things we do which cause us shame and hurt those around us... we have not fallen too far to love. We are not defined by the choices and mistakes we've made. 

 

 

You are More

 

There's a girl in the corner
With tear stains on her eyes
From the places she's wandered
And the shame she can't hide

She says, "How did I get here?
I'm not who I once was.
And I'm crippled by the fear
That I've fallen too far to love"

But don't you know who you are,
What's been done for you?
Yeah don't you know who you are?

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

Well she tries to believe it
That she's been given new life
But she can't shake the feeling
That it's not true tonight

She knows all the answers
And she's rehearsed all the lines
And so she'll try to do better
But then she's too weak to try

But don't you know who you are?

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

'Cause this is not about what you've done,
But what's been done for you.
This is not about where you've been,
But where your brokenness brings you to

This is not about what you built,
But what He built to forgive you,
And what He built to make you know.

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

You are more than the choices that you've made,
You are more than the sum of your past mistakes,
You are more than the problems you create,
You've been remade.

You've been remade
You've been remade.
You've been remade.
You've been remade.

Beloved Child?

She was only four years old when her father's friend asked her to come watch cartoons with him. She hesitated. She didn't want to. She knew what he really wanted. But, her father had always taught her to obey her elders. She closed her eyes, escaping to that perfect world within in her mind, blocking out the touch of his hands, and what he was forcing her to do.

She was only eight years old the first time her step mother got truly angry with her. She hadn't washed her hands as thoroughly as the mother had wanted. The little girl stood there against the wall as the mother grabbed her hair and slammed her head into the wall.

She was only 10 years old the day her father caved to the wishes of mother. Mother had gotten angry, believing the girl was hiding something...that she had a secret. She backhanded the girl across the face. Then did it again. She grabbed her roughly by the shoulders, slamming her into the wall, then tossing her to the floor like a rag doll. Mother's foot connected with her ribs, her legs. Father stepped in at that point... tried to stop the woman. "Fine. She's your daughter. You deal with her." is all she said. Father hesitated, then proceeded to kick the child.

She was only 12 years old when her mother made sure she understood that the only way she'd survive in the world was to  have sex with men... she had nothing else going for her. No brains. No looks. No personality. No talent.

There were many more incidents. At least four years of sexual abuse at the hands of a trusted family friend. Ten years of severe physical and emotional abuse at the hands of her parents.

Where was God?

For years, I asked this question. My parents made me go to church every Sunday. I went to Sunday School as a child, then 3 years of pre-confirmation and 3 years of confirmation classes. I taught Sunday School and Vacation Bible School. I helped old ladies clean their houses and plant their gardens. And how was I rewarded for my service? With scars and bruises - the worst of which could not be seen.

After the horrible school shooting in Newtown, Connecticut, I asked the question - why does God allow this stuff to happen? Where is he in all this? And I received a relatively decent answer.... God doesn't do these acts. Shootings and other tragedies in life are the work of Satan/man. But, I was told that God was there holding the lifeless bodies of the lost children, and holding close the family and friends of the lost. This is all well and good.

It's also good to know that for the several years of abuse, God was there with me. Every punch and kick. Every time I was drug down the stairs by my hair. Every time I was molested and raped. God was there.

And God did nothing.

A few months ago, I was told I am a beloved child of God. How can I be a beloved child and yet he still allows this abuse to happen? How can he claim to be a loving Father if he allows this abuse to happen? How can any parent claim to be a loving parent if they allow this? If my children were being abused, would I not step in to stop it? Would I not do whatever was needed to end their suffering?

But, God didn't.

This was part of what drew me away from God for many years. I couldn't believe He existed, because if he WAS real, he wouldn't have made me suffer so much. Now, I do believe. And I do love and praise Him. No, I don't have the answers of why he would allow these horrific acts. But I do know he was there beside me throughout the pain and suffering.

And, most days, I do believe I'm a beloved child of God. Tonight is just not one of those times.

"I Love You, And God Loves You"

A couple months ago, we finally had our youngest child baptized. He's ten years old. All five of my other children were baptized when they were much younger (all were babies except for one who was 3 at her baptism). Up until we actually had this ten year old baptized, I had chastised myself for waiting so long. He was going to be baptized when he was a baby, but circumstances at that time kept this from happening. And then, I just got lazy.

Now, as I look back on this laziness and complete lack of spiritual guidance I should have provided to my children, I'm actually grateful. There has been a strange good which has come from this delayed event. First, for my son, he will always remember what it was like to be baptized. He will be able to hold onto the memory of him being able to answer for himself that he renounces the devil and accepts the Lord. This is something most of us cannot recall. The closest I have to such an experience or memory is detailed in a prior entry of mine - "Water". It's an incredible feeling every time I look back on that day, and I can only imagine how powerful a memory it will be for my son to remember his actual baptism.

But, not only did this event give my son a powerful memory and lesson, but it also bestowed on me a reminder, a lesson, something which can only be considered a gift....

A couple weeks before his baptism, we were asked to meet with the pastor so that the sacrament of Holy Baptism could be explained to my son. As he would be answering for himself, it was important that he understood, at least to a degree, what baptism is about. Somewhere in this lesson, the pastor had made a request of my son... the pastor told him that whenever he tells me he loves me, he should also remind me that, like my son, I am a beloved child of God. He told him to say, "I love you, Mom, and God loves you." And, it was suggested I do the same.

At the time, this sounded a little silly, I have to admit. It was adorable, but silly. And I didn't think it would last beyond that meeting in the church. I was wrong.

It has been nearly two months since that meeting, and not a day goes by when my son doesn't say (at least 2 or 3 times daily) "I love you, Mom, and God loves you." And I say it to him as well... although he always beats me with the "and God loves you" portion (he sometimes tries to race me in saying it).

Those of you who have kids... you know that one of the most precious thing a parent can hear is their child say the words "I love you, Mom" or "I love you, Dad." These words will instantly warm your heart, and calm your troubled mind. But to hear this same child remind you that you are a beloved child of God? That God loves you? I don't think I can adequately explain the power behind these simple words. It truly is an incredible feeling. The sweet declaration of the love of your child may warm the heart and calm the mind, but the added affirmation of God's love - this soothes the soul. This brings peace. And because of this simple recommendation my son received, I get the privilege of experiencing this peace at least a few times a day.

1 John 3:1 See how great a love the Father has bestowed upon us, that we should be called children of God; and such we are.