Playing Church and Missing God

I remember the day the gavel hit and I was declared divorced. A slew of emotions hit and this was something I chose for reasons I won't bore you with here. I recall walking out of the courthouse with a sense of relief that healing could now begin. But the story really starts before that...in the experience with playing church. I am sure I was not alone sitting in the pews Sunday after Sunday suffering a lonely stale death with the happy face play church kind of look. You know the one I am sure...the conversations start with: "How are you? Nice to see you." Noone really wants to know how you are, but I responded equally with a very dishonest, "Great, and how are you?" I really didnt want to know any more than others wanted to know the sorted details of the hell I was living or the hell I was feeling. So we all just put the mask on and play church. I remember wondering how many people felt like I did. Felt that this was nothing more than a painful event that drove me further into isolation and sadness. I didn't dare confide in anyone in my Sunday school class who turned their backs when I walked in. I figured was probably because my son won out a spot on the baseball field over theirs and all the buddies gang up and turn their backs too. Or..the gossip called "Prayer requests" that were discussed over coffee to get details and share opinions on why this would happen...what they did to deserve this...how they must not have cared enough...you have heard it before I am sure. I remember thinking myself, "I may be in hell...but at least I am not divorced." I counseled with the pastor who did his best, but failed to really address the issues that he was untrained to handle and unable to fully comprehend. "Divorce was not an option" and I left feeling more helpless and hopeless than ever. Many people seek help, but can't find it in the one place you should be able to be fully you, fully honest, fully revealed and fully helped and healed. Why can't we? When as the paster of Springcreek Community Church in Garland, TX so perfectly asked, "When did the church become the least safe place to be real?" His church is real and many others are too. Divorced doesn't mean discarded, declined, de-valued. To think that the reformed alcoholic, addict or adulterer can find acceptance in change and even be given a place of leadership, but NOT the divorced is quite incredible. Several organizations who call themselves the church or biblically based organizations and bible studies decided that DIVORCED EQUALS DISQUALIFIED. I remember a national bible study organization disqualified my best friend (the most Godly woman I have ever known) from leadership because her husband left her and her 3 children and she was divorced, however, the towns meanest, biggest gossip who destroyed more people with her tongue than Atilla the Hun was embraced because she wasn't. I say this not to start a bitter war of words, but to point out the silliness of our human condition, our complete inability to just listen to the words of a loving, forgiving God. He is soooo not about us playing "I have it all together and you need to be like me." Jesus is about healing the sick and comforting the broken hearted. The actions described above must grieve him because it is why people are more welcome in the bars than in the church, find honest friendships not in the church, but with real people struggling with real problems. My mission and many others is to debunk the idea that Christians are sinless, uncaring, unaccepting, judgement driven people. My hearts cry is for those who are in despair and want "The Real Jesus" to meet Him. The REAL JESUS. Jesus didn't judge anyone....why do we? So wrong, so typical...so like us. But please know this is NOT from God. This is NOT the heart of JESUS!!!! I AM SO THANKFUL THAT HE IS LOVING FORGIVING AND WANTS NOTHING MORE THAN OUR HEARTS AND TO BELIEVE IN HIM. The Jesus I know is the best friend, kindest heart and most real person I know. Divorce does not mean disqualified to HIM....His love is the same regardless of our legal condition. So I am NOT playing Church...and my church is REAL and people are changed,and experience real true friendship and joy. I invite you to explore the possibilities that maybe Jesus is there waiting for an opportunity to blow your mind with his love and goodness...just a thought...So, if you have stayed away from God and His church believing that ALL Christians are judgmental, hypocrites, mean, give God another opportunity. Rest can be found in a loving caring church home with Christians who reflect the characteristics of Christ. Thank you to Rick Warren, Steven Curtis Chapman and others who have Lived Out Loud with such a powerful example of what grace, mercy and strength from a living Lord can do. You are Jesus in skin.

Crocs, Sunken Boat, Pregnant Woman, Getting Real

We view life through such a filter of experience, emotions, and just stiff-necked opinions. Status quo is only interrupted through a life changing experience like crocodiles, sunken boats, and a pregnant woman. Yep, I was the pregnant woman. The adventure started well enough with a hard headed decision that I would accompany my ex-husband on an Australian fishing trip and not wait to meet later. Of course, I asked about the accommodations and was assured this was a "Sheraton" type place with a swimming pool. After flying into Darwin, Australia and driving down an isolated dirt road to the outback for 3 hours I quickly discovered that "Sheraton" was not even Super 8. The Australian men pulled our car up to a fishing camp with trailers, open air community showers and toilets. The only other women there, well, were definitely not Texas big hair blonde women and I will leave it at that. Meals were served on a specific schedule and in a screened tent, the room was a bed, the temperature 112 degrees, no air and the pool was a hole in the ground with a plastic liner. The minute the fishermen jumped in, the surface was covered with a film of nastiness. Horse flies could be ridden and bats were 3 foot people who slept during the day upside down in the trees. Truly it was a beautiful place where horses ran free and snakes and spiders bite you and you die. I decided to embrace the adventure anyway. The night before the fishing tournament (Baramundi Classic) we were instructed about the do's and don'ts for the area. The big NO NO, do not get in or near water and if a crocodile starts heading to your boat...LEAVE! The rangers placed a skull of a croc on the table and it nearly broke the table. Salt water crocs are huge and very aggressive. I know that sounds like a "duh" but if you saw the way men fish, you would understand. Get in a great spot and good luck coaxing them away even if the croc demands the territory. I saw a couple of crocodiles on the first morning of the tournament, enjoyed the thousands of cockateels in the trees, but after 112 degrees on water you can't touch, I was determined to lay by the pool and read. Read I did. I read every single book in the shelf that week, especially the ones on crocodiles, how they attack, how to survive an attack, how many people (Americans) they have eaten, how dangerous and aggressive. Loved this part...the natives cross the rivers in a big line to appear to be a big animal to crocs..guess who they put at the end of this long line...women...so they will get attacked first. I am told that men are quite important to the culture. Right? Ok...that is enough of the background..on the last night of the tournament, Wide World of Australia was going to film the capture and tagging of a crocodile. The six camera crew were discussing the filming and I said I wanted to go and watch. My ex-husband said to reconsider, but I was dead determined to see this first hand. The rangers were in the small boat ahead and the film crew and we were in the 21-person flat bottom boat behind them. It was pitch black night and we were all joking about how we would walk on water if the boat sunk. hahaha...so the rangers took off with the sport personality to capture the croc. I watched in awe as the rangers used the spot light to locate the red eyes...they would quietly stop the engine, glide and and hang over the front of the boat, reach in and attempt to grab the croc...first time a miss..you could hear the other crocodiles rush into the water with a crashing sound. . Pretty impressive power. Finally, the rangers grabbed a small croc, dragged it into the boat, turned around and were headed to shore. Big high fives with the crew in our boat for a successful shoot and we turned our boat around and heard a thud, next thing I knew water was filling in the boat...the next few minutes were slow motion...bottom line the boat sunk..everyone fell in...someone landed on me and was using me as a life preserver...I eventually made it to the surface exhausted from the weight of shoes, clothes and a 6 month pregnancy. I made it over to the upturned boat and the commotion was overwhelming..then Chris Makepeace made it clear that we are bait the longer we flail in the water. The men put me on the bottom of the upturned boat so I could lay on it and in that moment, I called out to God. Being the good Catholic girl I tried to remember all the prayers I was taught, but I have to tell you in that moment...NOTHING MATTERED BUT HOW I stood before a HOLY God. I bargained, I strained to remember my training, but the truth is...I wanted time. Time to get right with God, to have my baby, but mostly, for a second chance. A chance to live the kind of life I knew would please God. The sin from my life overshadowed me and I cried out...Lord, give me a second chance. I don't believe anyone was especially pleased with my rantings, but I did not care. All the issues I thought were so important an hour before melted into this moment of survival. This moment of decision. I was saved at 15, but I was not prepared for this moment of truth. End of story...we had to swim to shore, the only shore that didn't have red eyes layered that we could see. It was a risk, but staying and waiting to be eaten was not an option. I of course, stayed in the middle of the line and wasn't anywhere near the end of our line to swim to shore. We made it after climbing through vines, mangroves, and the slimy bottom of the river...I saw snakes in every shadow and spiders seem to crawl on my skin constantly as I was swatting and slapping at myself. Quite a neurotic picture of health. We hugged each other and then realized we were in the middle of the outback on an island, in a buffalo wallow in the pitch black night, and the rangers were no where to be seen. They had taken off and never looked back. Finally, after hearing the roaring of the search boat, a brave New Guinea soul crawled through the mangroves to signal our location..we ferried back to shore and night terrors took the place of sleep. The miracle of our survival was posted in the paper as well as an evaluation stating the near impossible odds of surviving in the waters where crocodiles in mating season were nested, hungry, and especially aggressive. We made headlines and were interviewed about the miraculous survival. (People don't bother with life jackets because they would rather drown than hang around to be torn apart as dinner delicacy). Trauma and tragedy change you forever. Whatever that near escape or moment comes, we are never the same. It doesn't matter in that moment who likes you, who hates you, who annoys you, it just doesn't matter. What matters is who you are in the presence of God. Who you really are. We play church and miss the grace of God, the moment by moment realization that He is there, He loves us, cares and is waiting for an opportunity to show His glory. He showed His glory in one gigantic way...one incredible moment of grace...why...because I matter to Him. May you find that moment with HIM where you see what He sees...experience what He is and come out so grateful and thankful for the life that He gives, that the rest...just stinking doesn't matter. I fully believe in a moment of survival, there are no differences among us...the walls between us fall and God rushes in supernaturally...looking for our heart.

The 2x4 vs. the whisper

How interesting that we all seem to want change. Change in direction-career, relationships, family dynamics, friends, or location...or just plain change! I was listening to an interview with a teacher and I immediately reflected on my days teaching high school students. Coaching students through some of the most difficult times in their lives brought back a reality...we all want the same things. We think external change will solve the problem. Change relationships, change jobs, change money habits, change something and then we will be comfortable. Maybe, just maybe we are not supposed to be comfortable. Growth happens in discomfort. I was reflecting on how many times God created discomfort to push me on to the next level of growth. He whispered my name and called me to move, but much like my normal response..I ignore...I need confirmation...until finally the 2x4 across my head calling my name through circumstance catapults me out of my comfort zone. I cry with such vigor and scream at the pain until I stop, drop and listen. I listen to the direction from the one who created me, knows me, and knows my future. He is calling me and is calling you to greatness. If we coast down the mountain side we don't develop the muscles necessary to climb up the other side and a sunset gains its beauty from the clouds. A perfect sunset does not have the same colors of brilliance as the one with clouds. Clouds are the part of the sunset that take beauty to a whole new level. I am learning to embrace the clouds..to stop and appreciate the growth opportunities that hurt for a season, but if I allow will reflect the brilliance of God, my creator. Pain with purpose.