No Masks Allowed!

           I’ve talked before about the need to get real with God.  But I think that we Christians also need to do better at being real with each other.  Why can’t we Christians just admit that we are broken, hurting people too, that we are sinful and need help? 

            Why do we act like we can do it all on our own and like we can handle everything with grace and style and a smile on our faces?  Why do we spend so much time and energy polishing up our outsides?  Is it to earn approval?  To make God happy and proud of us?  To impress others?  To feel better about ourselves?  To look better than others?

            Honestly, all we are doing is hurting everyone.  When we are not real, we miss out on a genuine relationship with God and others.  We don’t get the help and the healing we need.  We exhaust ourselves.  We keep others and God an arm’s length away, and then we feel alone.  

            And we make others feel like they are “less than”. . . because they struggle while we “have it all together.”  And this makes us “unsafe” - because people feel judged, condemned, and shamed in our perfectly-polished presence.  Why would they confide in us or seek our help when they feel like we couldn’t understand, like we are “above” them, like they have to feel ashamed of their brokenness and their struggles, like we expect them to be polished too?

            Why can’t we just be real about our heartaches, doubts, fears, shortcomings, weaknesses, and pain?  Why can’t we admit that we, too, are human?  Is it really a surprise to anyone that we are all human?  That none of us has it all together?  Why can’t we even admit that to ourselves?

            We cannot reach lost, hurting people if we set ourselves up above them and act like we don’t have struggles.  (And ultimately, we are not impressing anyone, especially God.) 

            I'll be honest, being a Christian doesn’t take away the pain and struggle.  It doesn’t necessarily make the journey easier.  (And sometimes it makes it harder.)  But it does give us some real help - Someone to walk this life with us and help us through it.  It gives us purpose and meaning and value.  It gives us stability and joy in something outside anything this unstable life has to offer.  It gives us an ultimate destination that brings real hope and makes the journey worth it.  It gives us life! 

            But we cannot reach broken people if we don’t show them our own brokenness, too. 

            We don’t help others by showing them how “perfect” people do it.

            We help them by showing them how real people - broken people - do it. 

            And we do this not by trying harder or doing more or polishing ourselves up nice and shiny.  But we do it by getting real, by falling down at the feet of Jesus and saying, “Help me, I can’t do it myself.  I need You. I am broken, too.” 

            No masks!  No phoniness!  No “holier than thou” pedestals!

            I don’t know about your Jesus, but my Jesus came to die for the lost and the hurting and the broken.  In fact, He came to be broken ... for us.  So He knows what it's like to hurt, to be let down, to struggle.  And since He's been in our place and He knows us better than anyone, He knows how to help us.  He picks us up when we are down.  He carries us when we are weak.  He meets us where we are - in the pain, the messiness, the brokenness.  He does not shame or condemn.  He does not ignore our cries for forgiveness, help, mercy, or grace.  He does not let us fall flat on our faces or kick us while we are down.  

            He loves us as we are, brokenness and all.

            We don’t need to put on a polished mask for my Jesus because He loved us enough to die for us, even when we were still messed-up sinners.  He knows that we are weak and in need of a Savior, so it doesn’t surprise Him that we can’t do it all on our own, that we struggle and hurt and fail at times. 

            In my Bible, my Jesus had no harsh words for the hurting and broken.  He only had harsh words for the religious snobs who thought they were better than everyone else and who thought they could do it all on their own, earning their way to heaven because of their good works and proper attitude and polished outsides.  The ones who thought that they had no need to fall down at His feet and admit their weakness, neediness, and brokenness. 

            The world is skeptical and untrusting of church as an institution, of religion as a merit system, as a ladder that we climb to reach heaven.  Well, so was Jesus.  He never joined the holy huddles.  He didn’t like the religious, hoity-toity, “we are better than you” snobs who looked down on “sinners.”  They did more harm than good.  They ruined His message of free grace, mercy, love, and forgiveness. 

            While He never went soft on sin or coddled sinners, He never looked down on the hurting and broken and those who knew that they were sinful and that they needed Him.  Instead, He looked down on those who elevated themselves too high and who thought they didn’t need Him.

            But He reaches out to the hurting and broken, to anyone who will take His hand, His help, His grace and mercy and love and forgiveness and healing. 

            His church isn’t an institution.  It’s people.  Hurting, broken, sinful, scared, weak, needy people.

            His religion isn’t a bunch of impossible standards and strict rules.  It’s “Believe in Me.  Trust Me.  Let Me love you and heal you.  And live accordingly, in humility and obedience.” 

            He’s not about condemnation and shaming and criticizing and judging.  He’s about grace, mercy, forgiveness, and love. 

            That’s my Jesus.  And that’s why I choose Him.  It’s why I love Him. 

            We can take off the masks and be real with Jesus.  In fact, we have to take off the masks if we truly want to find forgiveness and healing and help.  And we need to take off the masks with each other, too, if we want to reach other hurting people and show them the love of our gracious, merciful, forgiving Savior.  A Savior who came to die for the broken and the hurting, when we were still sinners. 

            We don’t need to polish ourselves up before we can approach Him.  We just need to come to Him as we are, and then He’ll help us grow and change as we mature in our faith.  But don’t let your fear of being “not good enough” stop you from coming to Him.  He already knows none of us are "good enough."  That's why He didn't make it about being "good enough."  That's why He came and died, to be "good enough" for us.  And so instead of reaching for "perfect behavior," let's just reach for Him instead.  In humility.  In honesty.  In truth and thankfulness and neediness and love.  

He loves us and values us as much as He ever will, right now, as we are, simply because He made us and we are His!  No masks needed!  No masks allowed!

"But God shows his love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us."  (Romans 5:8)

"... 'Anyone who trusts in him will never be put to shame.' ... the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him, for, 'Everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved.'"  (Romans 10:11-13)

"If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."  (1 John 1:9)

"Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."  (Romans 8:1)

"The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles.  The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."  (Psalm 34:17-18)

"The sacrifices of God are a broken and contrite spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise."  (Psalm 51:17)

"Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."  (Hebrews 4:16)

And a few great songs:
"Lord, I Need You" by Matt Maher
"My Jesus" by Todd Agnew

"Better Than A Hallelujah" by Amy Grant
"Secret Ambition" by Michael W. Smith

(reposted from my other blog)     

                                                            

I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas!

So, I'm just wondering, are anyone else's children playing the song "I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas" at unexpected, random times throughout the day for the past week, simply so that it gets stuck in your head and you can't stop singing it the rest of the day?

No?

I didn't think so.

(Go ahead and take the challenge: Listen to this song once and see if you don't sing it the rest of the day, too.  That little, warbly, chipmunk voice rattling around in your brain.  It's the "Baby Shark" of Christmas!  And yeah, I know, this is a cruel and inhumane challenge.  I'm sorry.  But if I've gotta suffer, I'm takin' you all down with me!)

Falling Apart at the Feet of God (rewrite)

(I slightly rewrote this previous post of mine, from a different blog, for the Christian Prodigal I sent a letter to.  I thought it might speak to them and their situation.  This is the original version and the edited version I sent them blended into one.)

 
“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”  (Psalm 34:18)  

“Those who know Your name will trust in You, for You, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek You.”  (Psalm 9:10)

Having grown up with a biological dad who had almost nothing to do with me and two ex-step-dads whom I lost contact with eventually (one after a really, REALLY messy divorce) and a current step-dad who . . . well, I am just too old for a new dad . . . I have never really felt like I belonged to a dad, like I really mattered to one. 

I grew up always feeling like the outsider, a step-child who didn’t quite fit in or have a place to belong.  I never felt like I could be myself with a dad, like I was fully loved for who I was.  It was always just a matter of time before they left. 

And this caused a terrible fear of abandonment and a fear of being a burden to anyone.  It caused me to lean only on myself and to polish up my outside so that I earned love and approval and acceptance.  It caused me to always keep my distance, to keep walls up around my heart to protect it from being vulnerable, being hurt.  It caused me to always feel like I was on the outside, looking in.

Live Hummingbird Nest Camera

If you enjoy watching live bird cams, here is one of Bella the hummingbird.  She is sitting on two eggs which should be hatching in a few days (not sure exactly when), so you can watch her raising her babies from the very beginning:  Bella Hummingbird Live Cam.  (You can also find the live video here: https://www.bellahummingbird.com/.)

I started watching this one when she laid eggs back in February 2019.  But shortly after I started watching her (and was really excited about it because I needed something to brighten up the depression/anxiety I was going through), she was attacked by something and didn't come back to her babies.  And they had to give the babies to rehab.  

I felt like a jinx, like I shouldn't have these kinds of little delights in my life because something always seems to go wrong when I do, when I get my hopes up.  

So I refused to watch another bird nest cam ... until now, when I clicked on it out of simple curiosity, just to see if she was back at the nest and doing ok.  And that's when I saw that she had new eggs and is doing well.  I'm glad to see all is well.  For now.  (But I still don't feel comfortable getting too excited about it or caring too much.  And I won't watch too much, just in case.)

But take some time every day to enjoy the wonders of nature.  Of God's beautiful little creations! 

The Call - Such a Beautiful Song!

I was dreaming about this song the other night.  In fact, in my dream, I was singing it over and over again.  (And, wow, was my dream-singing incredible!)

Anyway, this is such a beautiful song that I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since I saw The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian a few weeks ago.  Her voice is amazing!  Enjoy!

The Call by Regina Spektor  (I'm not sure what the lyrics all mean, what the author meant.  I'd love to look up the meaning behind them someday.  But I think there's something in there for everyone, for all of our situations.  And those are some of the best kinds of songs.) 

To the Prodigal Believer I Love

This is a letter I did not want to write.  It's one that breaks my heart to write.  But I had to write it.  

This is a "tough love" letter that I wrote to a Christian prodigal whom I love who is (in my opinion) trapped in and by their sins and lies, who made a mess of their life, and who - instead of coming clean when they had the chance - is choosing to dig in their heels, to pretend they did nothing wrong, making everything messier and dragging other people down with them.  (I have altered some of this letter for privacy's sake.)  

Those who love a prodigal, who are praying for them, and whose hearts are repeatedly broken by them will, sadly enough, understand this letter.  But remember that even when we can't reach the prodigals in our lives, God still can.  

Learning to praise and trust God anyway

Psalm 96:4, 8:  “For great is the Lord and most worthy of praise ... Ascribe to the Lord the glory due his name ...”

Job 1:21, 2:10:  “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away; may the name of the Lord be praised. ... Shall we accept good from God, and not trouble?”   

I think one of the hardest lessons to learn and one of the greatest indicators of humility is learning to praise God, to trust Him, and to cling to Him ... in the pain and in the hard times. 

It's easy to be thankful, to trust Him, and to “sing His praises” when things are going our way and when we have more than enough.  But it is so hard to do this when we are in the “desert times” of our lives, when everything's going wrong and when we feel like life is letting us down, like God is letting us down, and like we have been abandoned by Him. 

Anyone Else Worn Out?

(Reposted from a year ago, but still so fitting.  Updated.)

Can anyone else relate to the idea of being exhausted from the energy it takes to just keep breathing (the song Worn, linked below)?  

I've been there, too.  For a long time now.  

Unearnable Love

One of the hardest lessons I have had to learn in my spiritual life (and in my earthly life) is to let myself be loved by someone . . . by Someone. 


I come from a very dysfunctional home.  A biological-dad and two step-dads by the time I was 8.  And then another step-dad (after a very messy divorce) when I was in my late-20’s.  I didn’t grow up with my bio-dad or his family.  I didn’t even really meet them until my teens.  And then after that, I’d see my grandparents, uncles, and cousins about once or twice a year, sometimes less.  And I’d see my dad and half-siblings once every several years or so. 

I never really felt like I belonged to a dad or had a place in my extended families.  And this feeling carried over to my relationship with God.

If They Mated ...

I think I stumbled upon the perfect "If They Mated ..." scenario for who I look like and how I act.  (You know, when they take pictures of two people and morph them into one to show what their offspring would look like if they mated.)  I wasn't trying to figure this out or anything; it just came to me as I was watching The Hobbit recently.  And once I saw it in my mind, I couldn't unsee it.  Then after I thought about possibly sharing it with all of you, my mind won't let it go until I do.  And so here it is, much to my chagrin ...

I kid you not, if you mixed these three characters - their looks and their personalities - you would totally have me.  

Frankie Heck from The Middle (Someone once told me I looked like her, when I was a lot younger.  Actually, it was when she was in Everybody Loves Raymond, but we're both a lot older now.  And I was once told I looked like Winona Ryder.  Ah, to be young again!)

Bard the Bowman, minus the facial hair, from The Hobbit

and ... hold on, it gets worse ... Gandalf the Gray  (This is how I think I look in bright, harsh light, when the lines on my face look deeper and the silver in my hair shines more, washing out the dark hair.  And once again, of course, I mean minus the facial hair.  And I pray it stays that way.  Hey, I'm at the age when you don't take this for granted, not when you find an inch-long, corkscrew-curly hair growing out the top of your ear one day.  And go ahead and laugh now, young people ... your day is coming!)

I'm telling you, it's uncanny.  And I'm certain that those who know me are laughing out loud right now, saying "Oh my goodness!  It's so true!  It's so true!"  (And once they see it, they won't be able to unsee it either.  And I apologize right now to my husband if it messes with his mind in any way.)

(I think my New Year's Resolution is going to be to take everything I can less seriously, starting with myself.  And I just made that up right now, but I think it's a good one.)  

So there you have it ... there you have me, in looks and personality: Frankie (her fumbling, well-meaning, doesn't-have-it-all-together-ness), Bard (his quiet, serious, stoic, just-do-what-needs-to-be-done-ness), and Gandalf (his reserved, wise, slightly smug, I-know-what-I'm-doing-but-maybe-not-ness).  All rolled into one freakish mash-up.  And now every time you see one of those characters, think fondly of me.  

(You know, if life was truly fair, I'd look more like this.  But oh well, life goes on.  Gandalf's attractive too.  I guess.)

Happy New Year!  And may you have a blessed 2020!