Shattered Dreams - part 2 (from Girlfriends In God devotional)

November 20, 2008
Shattered Dreams (Part 2)
Sharon Jaynes

Today's Truth
"I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die." (John 11:15 NIV)

Friend to Friend
In the New Testament, we find a story about two sisters whose dreams were shattered by a death in the family. Jesus received word that one of His best friends, Lazarus, was sick. In reality, by the time the messenger had made the one day journey to inform Jesus about Lazarus' illness, he had already died. Jesus didn't leave right away, but tarried two days before making the journey to Bethany. When Jesus arrived, Lazarus had been in the tomb for four days. His death shook the entire village and many Jews from surrounding cities went to mourn their loss. For these two women, their dreams for the future were bleak -- no husband, no children, no father, and now, no brother to take care of them.

When Martha heard Jesus was coming, her hopes soared and she ran to meet Him.

"Lord," Martha said to Jesus, "if you had been here, my brother would not have died" (John 11:12). Can you relate to Martha? Have you ever felt, Lord, if you had been here, this would not have happened to me. Where were you? Where are you now?

Then it is as if she thought better of the words that had escaped her lips and said, "But I know that even now, God will give you whatever you ask."

Jesus said to her, "Your brother will rise again."

Martha answered, "I know he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day."

Jesus said to her, "I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies; and whoever lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?"

"Yes, Lord," she told him, "I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God, who has to come into the world."

Martha went back to her home and told Mary that Jesus was on the way. Like Martha, Mary ran to meet him and said, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died." Do you see a pattern? Once again -- If you had been here this would not have happened to me. Where were you?

Do you think God hurts when we hurt? Oh yes, dear sisters, God hurts. Jesus wept when he saw the pain of those around him. He wept for the two sisters and I suspect He wept for a people who did not understand the power of God.

After four days, Lazarus' body would have already begun to decay. Make no mistake about it: God was about to do something so incredible, no one would refute His power.

Jesus ordered the stone rolled away from the mouth of the cave which served as Lazarus' tomb. Then Jesus said, "Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?'

They took away the stone. Then Jesus looked up and said, "Father, I thank you that you have heard me. I knew that you always hear me, but I said this for the benefit of the people standing here, that they may believe that you sent me."

When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!"

And he did!

Jesus resurrected Mary and Martha's dream.

Those of us who have lost a loved one may be thinking....yeah, but God didn't bring my brother back. God didn't save my child. God didn't resurrect my dead marriage and if you read yesterday's devotion, God didn't bring Will back to life. (If you didn't see yesterday's devotion, I encourage you to go back and read part one of this series.)

Let's go back to Will for a moment. Did resurrection power take place after Will's death? His mother would say a resounding "yes."

Luanne shared with me that just days before Will's final football game he had said, "Mom, I'll be glad when this is all over. Now that I'm older, I see just how unimportant all this sports stuff is."

As Lou Ann knelt beside her boy on that football field, she begged him to keep breathing. But then, as she felt him take his last breath, his words echoed in her heart,"I'll be glad when this is all over."

"It's all over, son," Luanne whispered. "Go on home."

At Will's funeral a few days after his death, Luanne stood and shared the gospel message about the Jesus Will loved so much. What was the result? Thirty people attending the service committed their lives to Christ or renewed their passion for serving Him.

"Mrs. Johnson, I gave my life to Christ today!"

"Luanne I haven't been following Jesus like I should. I recommitted my life to Him today and I'm going to get serious about my relationship with Him."

"Luanne, our family was in a shambles and I was thinking about leaving my husband. After today, I have decided to make our marriage work. I see how important family is."

"I have been putting my family on the back burner and letting everything and anything come before them. After today, I'm putting my family second only to God."

The Johnson family continues to minister all across the state about the power of Jesus Christ that sustains us when our dreams are shattered. Because of Will's death, hundreds have come to Christ, many family relationships have been restored, and churches have torn down denominational walls as the Presbyterians, Methodists, Baptists and Pentecostals in the tiny little town have made a historical move to worship together. Being from a small North Carolina town myself, believe me - that is a miracle.

The Bible says that before we know Jesus Christ, we are dead in our transgressions. We inherited a dead spirit from our father Adam. However, when we accept Jesus Christ as our Savior, God gives us a new heart and a new spirit that is fully alive. This is resurrection power at its best.

Why did God allow Lazarus to die? He allowed it so His Son could be glorified through it (John 11:4). Why did God allow His own Son to die on the cross? To bring salvation to all who believe? I suspect that is the same for Luanne and Bob's son as well.

Let's Pray
Dear Lord, there are some aspects of my life that have not turned out like I thought they would. There are shattered dreams and many things I do not understand. However, I do know this. You are a loving God and nothing happens to me that You cannot use for Your glory. Help me to be open to see the good in the circumstances that seem at times to be so hard. I choose to believe that You can redeem every situation in my life and use it for good.

In Jesus' name, Amen

Now It's Your Turn
Is there something that you have been praying about and perhaps you feel that God is "late?"

What can we learn about God's timetable from today's devotion?

In today's devotion, I quoted Jesus as saying, "Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?" Could it be that Jesus is saying those same words to you today?

Would you be willing to pray that God would show you the dreams He has for you?

Would you be willing to give up your unfulfilled dreams and reach forward to what lies ahead?

Read the following verse and ponder what God wants you to leave behind and what He is calling you to reach toward. "But one thing I d Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead" (Philippians 3:13b NIV).

More from the Girlfriends
Shattered dreams are a part of life, but God has big plans for each of us. Can you risk the hope that God still has dreams for your life? That He hasn't forgotten you. Place your hand firmly in His -- then take a deep breath and begin the exciting journey to a place you thought you'd never find: the dream God planned for you all along. You'll find all this and more in Sharon's book, Dreams of a Woman-God's Plan for Fulfilling Your Dreams.

David speaks my heart's cry

In Psalm 13:1-3a, David cries out in anguish to God, “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart? How long will my enemy triumph over me? Look on me and answer, O LORD my God.”

From the Girlfriends in God email Devotional

November 19, 2008
Shattered Dreams (part 1)
Sharon Jaynes

Today's Truth
"Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has born? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands." (Isaiah 49:15 NIV)

Friend to Friend
My husband and I were reveling in our time with our good friends from our college days, Larry and Cynthia Price. It had been almost a year since our last visit and I was hungry to hear of the latest family news about their children, Daniel, Julianna, and Laura Beth. While the four adults feasted on grilled teriyaki chicken, steamy baked potatoes, tossed salad with home grown sliced tomatoes, the kids ran out the door to attend the Friday night high school football game. For over an hour, conversation and sweet tea flowed like a mountain stream. We were just finishing the last bites of chocolate silk pie when our laughter was interrupted by the ringing phone.

"Hello," Cynthia answered.

I could only hear one side of the conversation, but I could tell something was terribly amiss.

"Daniel, calm down! What's wrong? Talk slower," she urged. "Oh God, no," Cynthia gasped. "OK, Daniel. I'll meet you at the hospital."

An ashen Cynthia turned to her husband and could barely force the words out of her mouth. "Larry, Daniel said that Will took a bad hit at the football game. He went in for a tackle. They hit. Will stood up. He fell on the ground and never got back up. They are taking him to the hospital in Clinton."

"Cynthia, you two go on to meet them. Don't even think twice about us," I assured her. "I'll clean up and take any calls that come in."

"Are you sure?" she asked. "I hate to leave you here."

"Absolutely, now scoot!"

Before they left, we held hands and prayed for Will, his mother Luanne, his dad, Bob, and his two brothers and little sister who were all at the game.

Larry and Cynthia drove down their mile long driveway and my mind rushed back to another time fourteen years earlier when I first met Luanne Johnson. She was Cynthia's best friend in the sleepy rural town of Rose Hill, NC, four hours from our home. She had just given birth to her third child, Bailey. Bailey was born with a hole in his heart. When he was seven months old, Luanne kissed his cheek as the doctors and nurses rolled him into the operating room to attempt to correct the defect. The physicians assured the Johnson's that the procedure had a 98% success rate and there was no cause for alarm. While Bailey came through the surgery just fine, he developed complications a few days later and had to go back in for a second procedure. This operation was not successful. Bailey died on the operating table. Bailey died on his brother Will's third birthday. Now this.

I pictured Luanne riding in the ambulance or perhaps following in a car close behind the blaring sirens. I recalled the words I had penned in another book, "There is an inexplicable bond that exists between a mother and her child. Even though the umbilical cord is severed in the delivery room, a cord of love connects them for the rest of their lives." Luanne already had one deposit in heaven. The thought of a second was almost too painful to imagine.

Oh, he'll be OK, I thought. I'd grown up in a small North Carolina town where high school football was a part of life for the entire community. When I was in elementary school, I went to Friday night games and ran around under the bleachers paying very little attention to the pigskin on the field. When I was a teenager, I was a cheerleader and knew just enough to know which cheers to yell when. My father-in-law had been a coach. Boys were constantly, "down on the play." But they always got up. Didn't they?

I'm not sure how much time passed, but Cynthia's phone call startled me back to reality.

"Sharon, this is Cynthia. Will didn't make it."

"What do you mean 'didn't make it?'" I asked.

"Will died before he even got to the hospital," she said.

Somehow, the news spread through the quiet little town that Will Johnson had been hurt at the football game. All through the night, I fielded calls that came to the Price's home. Cynthia was Luanne's best friend and Daniel had been Will's best friend.

The next day, the news reported the story. Will had gone in to make a tackle and when he hit the boy carrying the ball, his opponent's helmet crashed into Will's chest On impact, Will's heart had a concussion. He stood up and said, "Coach, I think I need to come out." Then he collapsed and his heart never beat again.

I was just a visitor from 200 miles away. I didn't know most of these people but one thing was clear. What affected one, affected them all. A mother's dreams had been shattered and the entire town felt her pain.

Shattered dreams are a part of life. Children die, husbands leave, jobs are lost, cancer tests come back positive, proposals are rejected, teenagers rebel, houses burn, terrorists attack, and the list goes on. Part of the pain is the feeling that God has forgotten us, grown deaf to our cries, or lost our address. Zion cried, "The LORD has forsaken me, the Lord has forgotten me" (Isaiah 49:14). David lamented, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from the words of my groaning? O my God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, and am not silent" (Psalm 22: 1, 2). Even Jesus called out from the cross, "My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?" (Matthew 27:46) I have cried, "Where are you, God? How could you do this to me? Have you forgotten all about me?" Then He answers, "Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you! See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands" (Isaiah 49:15).

Ah, the string around His finger, the brand on His palm, the scar on His heart. No, He doesn't forget. Join me tomorrow as we continue looking at Shattered Dreams and God - the Restorer of Broken Dreams.

Let's Pray
Dear Father, sometimes I don't understand why things happen. Why would a tsunami take hundreds of lives? Why would a mother bury her child? But this one thing I do know. You are always good and Your ways are always good. Help me to trust Your heart when I don't see Your hand. Help me to trust You in the dark.

In Jesus' Name,
Amen

Now It's Your Turn
Think of a time when you felt as though God had deserted you. How did He assure you that He hadn't?

Perhaps you still feel like He has forgotten you? That's OK to admit. I have felt that way at times myself. However, what does the truth of Isaiah 49:15 tell us?

The next time you are wondering where God is, just recite His promise to you found in Hebrews 13:5.

Day 8

Obviously not following calendar days here anymore...

Today I am so thankful for health insurance. Having it comforts me that if we have to take a child to the ER, we will be covered for a good portion of those bills. I am grateful for the job that provides the health insurance and I am grateful that we can afford the coverage.

Day 7?

Today I am thankful for Tramadol.

Moreoever, however, I am thankful that God forgives me my constant errors and that my children forgive me as well.

Day Six

I am thankful that Adam is willing to let me disappear into a dark room with an ice pack, lock the doors, and hide when I have these terrible migraines.

Day Five (better late than never)

I'm grateful for our doctor and the nurses at Saint Mary's Mercy Medical Hospital whose quick and competent actions six years ago allowed our sweet little girl Avery to celebrate her 6th birthday on Saturday.

Quote of the day

To my four-year old:

"Honey, you aren't meant to be shut in a dog crate."

(She's still throwing a fit because I won't shut her in the dog crate. Can't wait to bring this up at high school graduation.)

From the 10/16/08 Girlfriends in God devotional

When I Am Afraid
Mary Southerland

Today's Truth
"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind" 2 Timothy 1:7 (NKJV).

Friend to Friend
We do a lot of laundry at the Southerland house. There always seems to be a load in the washer that needs to go in the dryer, a load in the dryer that needs to be folded and a load of dirty laundry waiting to begin the process all over again. Sound familiar?

Our washer and dryer have numerous settings for everything from hand washables and fine delicates to cotton and permanent press. In an effort to raise responsible young adults, our children began doing their own laundry at a young age. However, there was a price to be paid for that lesson. After a few loads that yielded pink male underwear and sweaters shrunk to fit Barbie dolls, we decided to wash everything on one setting. Heaven help the man, woman or child who dares to change that setting.

When a life crisis comes, we generally have an automatic setting of fear and anxiety. The good news is that we can change that setting to peace and joy! How? By counting on God.

Count on God to be with you. We battle stress every day, but God is faithful and we can count on Him to be with us every step of the way. Worry is trying to fix tomorrow's problems with today's resources. My husband and I are flying to Charlotte, North Carolina. Dan booked the tickets and reserved seats for both of us. We have packed our suitcases and made every preparation we can think of. However, we really don't need any of those things...until we get on the plane. Grace is much the same. God gives grace in daily doses -- just when we need them.

Isaiah 43:2 When you go through deep waters and great trouble, I will be with you. When you go through rivers of difficulty, you will not drown! When you walk through the fire of oppression, you will not be burned up; the flames will not consume you (NLT).

Count on God for direction. Life can easily spin out of control in a whirlwind of confusion. God offers direction and guidance through His word, through His people and through the Holy Spirit.

Psalm 32:8 I will guide you along the best pathway for your life. I will advise you and watch over you (NLT).

Count on God for provision. God goes before us in every area of life. Nothing that happens to us will ever surprise God. We must be careful to stay away from the scenario sickness of "What if". There are no "what ifs" when we choose to trust God for every need.

Isaiah 65:24 I will provide their needs before they ask. I will help them while they are still asking for help (NLT).

Count on God for protection. God will fight for us when we are attacked. When we follow God's agenda, God fights for us. When we follow our agenda, we are on our own.

Exodus 14:13 The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still" (NIV).

I recently saw a bumper sticker that read, "If God is your Co-Pilot, switch seats!" Many of us have good reason to be afraid because we are sitting in the pilot seat of life, determined to be in control. Fear feeds stress. Stress thrives in an atmosphere of fear and doubt when our hand is on the steering wheel of life. We need to move over, surrender control to God and find the peace waiting in His hand.

Let's Pray
Father, my heart is filled with fear. It seems like I am drowning in the uncertainties of my life. Lord, help me to surrender my fears to You. Strengthen me to face each one and walk through it, knowing that You are with me. I choose to trust You and doubt my fears. I choose against stress and choose for peace. I choose You, Lord.
In Jesus' name,
Amen.

Day Four

I'm grateful for my longing for God.

Day Three

So far, I am thankful that God got me out of bed to meet with Him early this morning. I"ll probably cheat and have more items for which I am thankful later today :-)

Day Two

(a little late)

I am thankful that I got to spend the morning with my baby sweetpea on her preschool field trip to the pumpkin farm. What a wonderful morning of viewing her with complete joy!

30 Days of Thankfulness (Day one)

As I was driving to the Southport Great Banquet #48 that Mom and I attended together last weekend, God prompted me to think about all of the things for which I am grateful. It's so easy to get caught up in the swirl of everyday life, the aches and pains that plague us, the betrayals that befall us, the frighteningly steep downturn of the economy. In getting caught up in those things, I forget to appreciate all with which I've been blessed. I remember to mention them when I pray, but I often forget to call them to mind during the hurry of daily life.

So God prompted me to start a daily record of thankfulness. My goal is to blog daily, each day recording one thing for which I am grateful. We'll see if I can keep it up. I have good intentions, but much like thankfulness, blogging often gets lost in the chaos that my family calls daily life.

So....

Day one: (I'll cheat and have two today)...I'm extremely grateful that I was able to swim laps for an hour today (the last 40 minutes consisted of repeated mental chanting of Philippians 4:13 )

I am also thankful that my children are obsessed with homophones right now and make me laugh when they stretch the English language to find homophones everywhere. :-)

The Impala Syndrome

The Impala Syndrome
This devotional was written by Jim Liebelt

HomeWord Devotional, 10/10/08

Now faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see.—Hebrews 11:1

I recently read a story on the Internet about the deer-like African Impala that reportedly can jump to an amazing height of 10 feet in the air, yet can be restrained in captivity by a wall that is merely three feet tall. Why? It seems that the Impala simply will not jump without being able to see where it will land.

This reminds me of the faith life of many Christ-followers. We have been given the wonderful gift of faith. By simple acts of faith, both small and great, God chooses to expand His influence in the world (See Hebrews 11). Still, it seems that many Christians live like Impalas when it comes to exercising faith. I know that for myself, time and time again, I’ve let any number of small walls; those made of fear, or worry or even ‘common sense’ restrain me from exercising the gift of faith that God has given. How about you?

When we insist upon living by sight and always determining the results before we act, we short-circuit faith, cutting God and His power out of the equation in our lives. When living by sight overcomes faith, our spiritual lives begin to shrivel, we live at a lesser level of satisfaction, and our own participation in influencing the world for God decreases. According to the Scriptures, faith is a foundational principle for living the Christian life. (See Romans 1:17.)

The solution to the “Impala Syndrome” of faith is found in choosing to trust. When we choose to trust God enough to walk by faith rather than by sight, we exercise our faith and as a result, its capacity grows. Our spiritual lives are strengthened, which results in our living life to its fullest.

So, how are you doing when it comes to matters of faith? Are you consistently living by faith? Or, is your daily experience more like the “Impala Syndrome”? Today, you can make the choice to trust God and live by faith not by sight. Let our prayer today be, “Increase our faith, Lord!”

Pain

I was going to write a post based upon the devotional below, talking about the path I've traveled on the way to forgiving my former friend for her betrayal. It's true what she writes about the vision of the "other woman." Do any of us wives view the "other woman" as someone railroaded by a bad decision made multiple times? I certainly haven't. One minute she was one of my closest friends, the next she was words that I wouldn't utter in polite (or even necessarily unpolite) company.

But pain has obscured my thoughts on the matter. The fibromyalgia has reared its incredibly ugly, despised head over the past 5 days. It's times like these, when I am just overwhelmed with unrelenting pain and fatigue, that I wonder if there is any end in sight. When every bone in my body cries out for relief and rest, but when I awake from a nap or night's sleep in the same exhausted and painful state, I do start to wonder...is this it? Will I feel like this forever?

Part of that is because I've been loyal to the restrictive vegan, allergen-and caffeine-free diet I've been following. I've been exercising a minimum of 45 minutes a day, even through the pain and exhaustion. And I still feel like this. That is the truly disheartening part of this. I'm doing everything I've been doing for over 4 months and I feel rotten.

But then I realized that maybe I just really need to pay attention to the article about fog that I posted below. This is my fog right now. I've no doubt that depression is lurking around the corner, waiting to welcome me into its clammy grasp if I just give in. So I need to think about truly clinging to God's promises right now, not just thinking they are awfully nifty when I'm feeling well. I need to cling like I am drowning and not give into the thought that I'm facing this on my own and this may be all I ever am.

• Isaiah 43:1-2 (thank you Celeste!)
  
• 1.
• But now, this is what the LORD says-- he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

• 2.
• When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

Forgiving the Other Woman

From the Crosswalk Women's Newsletter I receive, October 1 2008

Forgiving the 'Other Woman'

Rebeca Seitz

 

I was 22 years old, married for just over a year, when my mom said the words that opened my eyes. "That dog won't hunt." It's a phrase my southern mom has used for years when the story being told doesn't add up to truth in her powerfully discerning mind. Mom's never been wrong when she utters that sentence. When I described to her the goings on in my marriage and she came back with those words, I knew she'd just declared what I hadn't wanted to face. My husband was cheating.

I never considered that betrayal would enter my marriage. I suppose that was a bit naïve given the prevalence of betrayal in the marriages around me -- my dad's first marriage, two aunts, some cousins, several friends. Throughout my childhood, marriages around me kept falling apart due to adultery. Yet it simply didn't occur to me to be on guard.

My world shattered that day. Everything I thought I knew to be true suddenly came into question. Who was I? Who was this God that would allow my life to get so off course? Who was this man whose last name I shared? Where was the future I'd so meticulously planned since my girlhood days? How would they respond at the megachurch for which I worked? What sentence could I say to my husband to put everything back the way it had been -- if only in my mind? Could I forgive him? Stay married? I knew the Bible allowed for divorce in the case of adultery, but it doesn't demand such. That left me with choices to make instead of a dictated path.

My dad is a marriage counselor -- how's that for irony? I spent hours on the phone with him, wrestling over what course of action to take. Just as suddenly as I'd decided to forgive and stay, though, my husband decided the future. In a phone call from his mom's, he explained that he simply wasn't "created for marriage" and had "made a big mistake." He moved out on December 1 - my birthday.

For the next few weeks, I lived in a haze of disbelief. Questions and thoughts swirled through my mind like a southern twister in a thunderstorm. One kept coming to the forefront. How could one woman do this to another? I couldn't wrap my mind around someone purposefully causing this much pain and confusion in another's life. Weren't we women supposed to stick together and help each other out?

Throughout my life, as others were hit by betrayal, I'd had an image of the "other woman" as manipulative, scheming, cheap, tawdry, and desperate. The entire Hollywood cliché formed my image of her. But I couldn't reconcile that image with a woman my husband would be attracted to. And if that image was wrong, then what belonged in its place?

I read a lot, cried bucketloads, threw up my hands, journaled my heart out, and prayed even more and eventually picked up When Godly People do Ungodly Things by Beth Moore. Beth shared scripture which revealed that satan plots against each individual Christian. He's fine if the ultimate demise he's after takes years to accomplish. What else does he have to do but wait for his own defeat? And so he plots -- he plans, step by step, how to pull a believer down into the muck and mire.

Can't you just envision him now? Rubbing his hands with glee or chewing on the end of a pencil as he studies you and determines exactly which buttons to push to steer you down his path?

I've got a lot of buttons and -- entirely too often through the years -- I've allowed satan to have control over me. I've let him lead me right into the story he wrote. I've hurt people in the process -- parents, family members, and friends.

It dawned on me, sitting there with Beth's book in my hands and an image of a scheming satan in my mind, that I wasn't very different from the "other woman". I don't think she -- or anyone who commits adultery -- wakes up one morning and says, "I think today I'll commit adultery." I highly doubt that's what my husband did. No, I think it's a gradual process of steps laid out expertly by a grand manipulator. Our fault lies in taking those steps, in ceding authority of our story to one intent on our demise.

When I saw her in that light, I could empathize with the "other woman". I could forgive. I could understand. She gave up control of her story just like I've done so many times in too many ways. Her decision wreaked havoc in my life, but I've done the same in others' lives in other ways. If I couldn't forgive her this, how could I expect forgiveness myself?

It would have been easy to judge this woman, to judge my husband, to spend the rest of my life comfortable on my high horse and safe in my solitude. I tried that for a while. But, in reality, my horse rides lower than a lot of folks and keeps going only by the grace of God. He's a God who is clear about how forgiveness works -- asking for it without giving it doesn't work.

He's also clear about His ability to make beauty where sorrow stood. In forgiving, I became able to love again. To trust in His story for me again. To take steps toward healing and acceptance. Today, nearly six years later, I'm a (usually) happily married woman with a three-year-old son and a daughter to be born in October.

When I sat down to write my novel Coming Unglued, I knew that Kendra (my main character) was ripe for an emotional affair. She'd taken enough steps in satan's story of her life to be at that monumental moment. I checked with my husband before embarking on this novel's writing because I knew the emotions would affect our marriage. He prayed me through, handing me Kleenex as I cried while I typed and patting my back as I shook my head at Kendra and at the remembrance of my first marriage.

I get asked a lot how I could write a story from the "other woman's" point of view, given my history. I smile, knowing that I'm just as fallen as any "other" woman. On days when I yell at my son or take my husband's love for granted or fail in any number of ways, I'm grateful for a God who forgives and who surrounds me with people who forgive. In the face of such a gift, how can I not offer forgiveness in return

Fog

From the September 26, 2008 Homeward with Jim Burns devotional I receive via email:

Don't Lose Sight of the Goal
This devotional was written by Jim Liebelt.

"I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."
Philippians 3:14

Numerous sources have told the story of Florence Chadwick, who on one foggy morning in July of 1952 waded into the waters off Catalina Island, intent on swimming across the channel to the Southern California mainland. This challenge was not too difficult for Chadwick as she had been the first woman ever to swim the English Channel in both directions.

However, on this day, having lost sight of the land because of the fog, Chadwick decided to give up. As it turned out, she had only been one-half mile from reaching her goal. She was not exhausted or cold. Rather the fog, having obscured her vision from the goal, was the reason she quit. Still, some two months later, on a clear day, Florence Chadwick attempted the same challenge -- and this time succeeded, setting a new speed record, because she was able to keep her eye upon the goal.

As Christians, we have a goal: to follow Jesus, to become like Him, to love and serve Him with all of our heart, soul, mind and strength. But, we often encounter the world's fog, which can obscure our vision and keep us from seeing the goal clearly. I'm afraid too many of us have chosen to give up pursuing the goal because we become distracted by fog -- the fog of busyness, of career, of material pursuits, of self-interest. We will all experience foggy days, spiritually speaking. Don't quit. Persevere. Do your best to keep your eyes focused on Jesus who awaits with reward in hand, at the finish line.

I love the words of that old hymn written by H.H. Lemmel:

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face;
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.

Today, let the fresh breeze of the Holy Spirit's presence in your life blow away the world's fog. Fix your eyes upon Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.

GOING DEEPER:

1. What "fog" exists in your life that obscures your vision and hinders you from following Christ?
2. What actions can you take to regain your clear vision in order to pursue the goal of following Christ? Will you commit those actions to the Lord today?

FURTHER READING:
Hebrews 12:2; 2 Timothy 4:7-8; Hebrews 10:36; James 1:12

A picture I took while in Hawaii...there certainly was beauty in the fog there. Perhaps I need to remind myself of that beauty when I start berating myself because I've gotten lost in the fog yet again. Don't spend so much time belittling myself for having been distracted by the world's fog and just remember to get back on track, to persevere.

Talking to God

I woke up early this morning. In good part, it might have been the five year old elbows and knees that kept assaulting my kidneys throughout the early morning hours. But I also like to think of God waking me up early in the morning so we can have our time together. I've been doing that pretty regularly lately. I find that meeting with God early in the morning sets me off into my day on much more solid ground. Much like a child who has had a good breakfast in the morning before setting off for school. I'm more patient. I'm more likely to draw on the materials in the books on anger that I've been reading. I feel that I'm more whole, less pulled apart into angry, frustrated little pieces.

Anyway, I had a conversation with God this morning. It's taken me a few years to get comfortable with the notion that God can talk to me without me hearing an actual voice. I've struggled with that for a long time. Can it really be God talking to me if the thought just pops into my mind? Don't I have to hear a thundering voice from Heaven (at lower volume, of course, to avoid the wrath of the 4 year old who is quick to cast blame when she is awakened earlier than she would prefer)? But when Adam and I were in Hawaii last January, we attended a wonderful church service with our friends Nathan and Shawna. The pastor there described hearing from God, and his description was so spot on to what I've experienced several times that I decided just to accept the experience as hearing from God.

So I was laying in bed this morning, longing for God. I just really needed to hear from Him, to have a conversation with Him. It doesn't typically work out for me this way because I either fall back asleep or the cacophony in my brain either drowns God out or stresses me out too much for me to truly listen. But today, God got through. And I'm so grateful for that.

I learned last weekend that I don't trust God. Adam and I attended a Focus on the Family Weekend to Remember marriage conference. It was wonderful, and I highly, truly recommend it for couples wanting to learn (or relearn) how to put the right focus back on their marriages. We learned about communication, forgiveness, raising our children, love as created by God, and much much more. One of the biggest (and saddest, for me) things I learned is that I don't really trust God.

I relied upon Him and leaned so heavily against Him after Adam's affair. I try to rely upon Him for big decisions. There are times that I wake up in the night, petrified. I can only find calm and peace in Him during those times. But as to trusting Him, I learned that I don't really. I keep my anxieties to myself and don't give them over. I don't trust Him to work in Adam...I try to change Adam myself. I try to control everything. Absolutely everything. I don't trust God to run things; I try to do it myself. And I don't know how to stop.

When I was hospitalized for the second (or third? Final, at any rate) time with anorexia as a teenager, God saved my life. I think I was under 80 lbs at that point. I'd just heard a passing employee tell another employee that they didn't expect me to live. It had never dawned on me that I was killing myself. I just wanted to be perfect. I needed to have a perfect body to be loved, accepted, liked. I didn't want to die - I just wanted perfection. But the thought of death frightened me. I couldn't imagine my parents losing a daughter (the other one had already furiously moved out at that point, I think, and there was a lot of heartbreak over that angry departure). So even though I hadn't been saved at that point, I asked God for help. I didn't want to die. I took a deep breath and a picture came to mind. A picture of giant cupped hands that waited to gently catch me if I would just leap from the cliff I was so precariously perched upon. I took a breath and jumped. And God, true to His Word, caught me. I recovered. So many anorexics do not, and I am absolutely convinced that I would have died had God not come to me that night.

But this situation is different. It isn't one particular situation that I have to give up. It isn't one fear that I have to face, as it was back then. I don't have one cliff to leap from here. I have many. So I brought that up to God. "God - I don't know how to trust you. This isn't the fear of eating that I can just face with your strength. This is everything in my life and I don't know how to just stop controlling everything."

Then God said, "Trust me." It wasn't His voice. It wasn't a sudden thought that just popped into my mind like, "Hey. I'm craving ice cream." If you can visualize thoughts having different appearances in your mind, this was an ethereal thought that gently unrolled in my mind.

"God, how do I know that these are your words and not just my mind so desperate to hear from you that it's making these things up?"

"Trust me."

"God, I'm scared to trust you. I'm scared."

"I won't betray you."

Then I cried. Because I guess that's at the root of everything. People fail you. People wound you. You hand them your heart and they shove back at you a shattered, mangled mess that scarcely resembles the gift you so lovingly entrusted them with. I'm not just talking about Adam here. There are other people who hurt me so badly in that situation. And God gently reminded me this morning that I haven't really forgiven them. I've nursed my pain in a small (likely dark) place in my heart and considered it extremely justified in light of everything that happened.

I have to forgive. Not because people who hurt us deserve forgiveness, but because when we didn't deserve forgiveness or mercy or grace, Christ died a horrific, violent, unimaginably painful death so that we could be forgiven. How can I not forgive those who so willingly inflicted pain on me when I am faced with the reminder of what Christ did for me? It hurts me and it hurts my relationship with God if I don't forgive. It holds me back from being who God made me to be, from opening up all of me for God to use.

But God. God won't betray me. He won't wound me. He won't let me down. He won't fail me. I just don't know how to believe that. But I guess that's what faith is. I thought that faith was just believing that He is. Apparently I also have to trust Him. And that is my great battle right now.

It's pretty sad, I guess, that I could survive anorexia, rape, car accidents, law school (little joke there), terrible hyperemesis, an affair, a heart attack, terrible depression, and the incredible pain of fibromyalgia and still not trust God. But I think there are different degrees of trusting. I trust Him to get me through terrible pain, to get me through the seemingly unsurvivable darkest days of depression when all you can do is pray to make it through each second, each minute. But I haven't trusted Him with my emotional fears, my angst over parenting and fear of screwing up my children for life, my anger when Adam doesn't meet my expectations. And I'm not sure how to do that. That isn't a situation involving jumping off of a cliff. That's a bigger, and seemingly much more difficult, situation for me to trust in.

"I won't betray you."

I want to trust you, God. And I'll try. I'll really try.

More bubbles, a car, and produce shopping

I was inordinately proud that Caroline had opted to fill her cart with plastic produce while the other kids opted for the empty oreo boxes. Doesn't mean she eats produce, but hey...I'll take what I can get!

Drums and bubbles

More Museum pics

Trip to the Children's Museum

These are a few photos from our big trip to the Children's Museum today. It was a Mommy/Caroline day. On Tuesday and Thursday afternoons now, Caroline and I are alone together. Tuesday we went to a new coffee shop, had lunch with Adam, and ran some errands. Today we went to the Y and then went to the Children's Museum. We played with the funny mirrors, made lots of bubbles, went "grocery shopping," ran a restaurant, worked in post office, dressed up like bee keepers, "drove" a car, and, oh yes, played with bubbles! I am really going to cherish these special times with Caroline as I really only have about another year or so of having time with her alone. We'll be sure to keep you posted on all of our adventures throughout the year :-)

First Day of School shots (K and 2nd)

Diving right in...I hope: Thoughts on prison.

It's been quite a month now. God's done some amazing work in me and I know that He is pushing me to do some work too. Quite frankly, I'm scared.

Adam and I went out to dinner with some good friends about a month ago. Awesome, fun, Godly people. We got into a political debate on the way home with me standing firmly on my Obama ground, the other three standing firmly behind McCain. We talked about economics, the welfare system, the war(s), and that hot-button issue abortion. I have always, always stood behind freedom of choice, largely because of issues in my past. I have never had an abortion, but I have had an experience that cemented in my mind the wisdom of having that option available for those who have been victims of violent crimes. These people challenged my thinking that night. We finished our debate on friendly grounds and went our separate ways.

The next day, I was driving to work when God almost literally reached down and slapped me. Do I love life as God gives it? Yes. Do I love babies? Yes. Do I believe in adoption? Yes...I haven't given up on the thought that we might be able to adopt in the future. Do I believe in the sanctity of life? Absolutely. But here I was blindly accepting the legality of eradicating wee lives because of something in my past that has controlled me without my knowing. I have been so blinded by what happened to me years ago that my life has been steered by it, my decisions have been made on the basis of that history without me realizing it. How can that happen? How can an intelligent woman be so blindly driven by something in her past?

I think we all are, to a certain extent. Certainly our environments growing up form and shape us and our beliefs. God just opened my eyes to the way I was blindly making choices that go against my core beliefs, and all on the basis of one violent act committed years ago.

The next day I emailed my friend to tell her what had happened that morning. I wanted her to know what incredible change had been wrought by God, all as a result of our debate the night before. We ended up having a multi-hour conversation in which I shared what had happened in my past and she in hers. That God would see fit to bring someone into my life who could not only empathize but KNEW the horror of that act and the fallout it brings. I love her dearly for being so open with me and for listening to me cry, and I hope she reads this someday and knows to whom I refer.

But God didn't stop there. Two days later, I got together with a friend in the park and had lunch. We starting talking, as we always do. We ended up on the subject of eating disorders, obviously something in my past. I never ever would have guessed that my friend has struggled and still struggles with the entangling web of thoughts that an eating disorder weaves. For years I've considered myself cured, and I still do. And what a blessing that has been, because so many victims of eating disorders do not ever fully recover. But Satan still sees fit to trip me up every now and then with a thought of, "wouldn't life be better/happier/easier/more wonderful if I were thinner?" Thankfully I've not been pulled back in. But it is a reminder that eating disorders might not ever completely go away, leaving their trail of thoughts behind like a wound that festers over time. I'd always just thought of my friend as an incredibly fit, slender woman...it never ever dawned on me that she might share my past struggles.

I think I was just amazed that within the period of two days, God had brought two friends to me who collectively shared three of my greatest battles and the wounds therefrom: anorexia, depression, and rape. He is so loving, and so kind, and I am still choked by the kindness of these two friends in sharing their battles with me. I don't feel quite so alone. It's one thing to talk to your husband about your struggles, and Adam has become a good listener. But it is completely different to talk to a fellow victim about the fallout, the fear, the crushing blow to who you used to be, the blame, the terror, the anger, the hatred, the violence,and how you fear never again being who you were.

So, guided by a friend, I'm in the process of seeking help through counseling. Truly, I want to be free. I don't want my life to be controlled by fear and darkness as it has been for so long. I want more of me to be available to God. I've shut so much of me off for so long without even realizing it. And honestly? yes...I'm terrified to have this out there. Who will read it and view me differently? Who will think me a freak for having this out there? Who won't feel comfortable talking to me anymore? And how will I keep from crying if anyone brings this up? Because I cry just typing it out. I've tried for so, so many years to keep my emotions inside. If people are nice to me about a hard subject, I shut myself off and don't allow myself to feel. After Adam's affair, when I saw my awesome dr for the first time after it all came out (the office knew b/c I'd called, sobbing, saying that I thought I needed a stronger anti-depressant), he came in and said,"I'm sorry, Sarah. You don't deserve this." I actually begged him to say something mean so that I wouldn't cry. I can't handle people being nice to me about bad things in my life b/c I try so, so hard not to cry, and kindness brings me to tears every time.

So, yes, obviously a lot of work ahead of me. But I am so grateful to God for bringing me to this point, and I just pray that He will bring me through. I am under no illusion that this will be easy. It will be ugly, dirty, incredibly hard, and Satan will be there the whole time, trying to lure me back with my comfortable old thoughts of me not being worth the work, of nothing changing, of God not loving me that much, of my husband and family not loving me that much, of anger over past hurts. But I have to do this, because I can't take this prison anymore.

Wow...sure haven't posted here in a long time, huh? Maybe that's good...I've noticed that I tend to post when things are bleak and I don't feel like I can talk to anyone about them. It's been a crazy 6.5 months since I last posted. I was diagnosed with fibromyalgia in early May after a 6 month bout with incredible pain and fatigue. I count myself very lucky in getting diagnosed so quickly. I thank my wonderfully progressive and open-minded doctor for that. We experimented with various prescriptions for the fibro for about three months until I started reading up about more holistic ways to deal with the illness. I tried Flexeril and Lyrica, along with the prozac I had been taking for depression. But it dawned on me that I've never really tried just taking care of myself to see what my body could do with that. There's always been one thing or another in the way - anorexia, college goals, law school, hectic work, three babies in a row, depression, debilitating migraines, marriage in crisis...you get the picture.

I read a book by the name of Foods That Fight Pain by Dr. Neal Barnard. While he is a vegan and therefore may be considered to have an agenda, the information contained in the book was well-researched and well-presented. A lot of the migraine information was consistent with what I'd learned other places but never had the energy to implement. However, body-wide pain that keeps you from standing or walking upright and crippling fatigue are powerful motivators.

So in late may, early June I started exercising daily. I started with 5 minutes of walking and added one minute/day. I'm now up to 60 minutes a day of cardiovascular exercise. I ride, I walk, I use the elliptical, and one of these days I'll throw in swimming for kicks and giggles. I am also doing strength training 3-5x/week. In July, I weaned myself off of all of the medications I was taking and started adding in some supplements that my research indicated have helped others {I do love my geeky research :-) } Each day, I'm now taking about 2400 mg Malic Acid, 1.5 g Magnesium, a Shaklee multi (Vita-Lea with iron), Calcium, a B supplement, Ginseng, Folic Acid, and a few others I can't remember (yes, I rattle when I walk now). I am also (mostly) following a vegan diet. My weaknesses are both surprising and unsurprising (surprising that I couldn't resist taking a bite of a brat, unsurprising that I cave and get a mocha from time to time and find myself daydreaming about medium-rare steaks).

Long story short, it is working for me right now. I still have bad days, but they make me appreciate the better days more. It is hard not to get discouraged when I feel like I am doing everything I can but still get hit with days on which I can't straighten up or even seem to get out of bed. On those days, I just pray for relief, patience, and the energy to keep doing what I need to do.

Part II, hopefully to come soon, will be about all of the great things God is doing in my life. Until then, though, please take care of yourself. Take care of yourself the same way you take care of your child when they are young and sick and fully dependent upon you...with love, gentleness, and the utmost of concern.

I wanted to post to let everyone know that I am feeling better. With God's grace and a new medication, I've crawled out of that terrible pit I was in. I know that there is a purpose in this depression. It certainly makes me empathetic to those fellow sufferers.

I should be working on a big project right now, but I am hoping that God will bless this time that I am taking to write this and that He will open up some other time for me to work on what I need to do. I am hoping that I am right in believing that He would have me break from researching in order to write this.

I'm not even certain of what to write. But God is impressing upon me just how bad this last depression was. It was terrible, and it was frightening. I would never ever kill myself b/c I would neither want to risk my eternal salvation nor want to put my family through that terrible pain. But in this last bout with Depression, I believe I was as horrifically depressed, as close to the edge, as one could get without committing suicide.

Every breath was an effort. I just didn't care enough to breathe. To eat. To speak. To live. It was black, terrifying, suffocating, deadly.

I guess I write this because while I did actually let my husband and my mother know, mostly at the time (more toward the middle/end of the struggle), how terribly bleak things were, I didn't talk to others about it. After I started the new prescription and began clawing my way back (with God's help), I confided in a close friend about how dark things had been.

I didn't wear all black. I didn't stop showering or washing my hair or wearing makeup. I didn't cry all day or break into dramatic tears in the grocery store. I was certainly less engaging with others, but I think that might have been the extent of the external signs of the depression.

I *think* the point I am making is this: while there are certainly external signs of depression to watch for, someone can still be standing on the brink without showing the more obvious signs. The smile you give a stranger, the kindness you show while driving, the "hello" or "how are you" you opt to speak even though rushed, might make the difference in that stranger's battle that day.

We all have different battles. I just know that in mine, the times that someone met my eye or smiled, or just showed a kindness...those were the times that I could live with just a little less struggle for the next few minutes.

If God prompts you to pray for someone, and you have no idea why, please pray. If you struggle with depression, find someone you can trust and share some of your thoughts with them (even if you can't share the scariest or darkest ones). If your reason for living isn't God or isn't your family, find that one reason that you must live and hold onto it as your life jacket. Do not let go. Please risk confiding in someone that you just can't do it anymore, it's too tiring, and you just don't care enough to keep holding on.

Just don't give up.