Category: Redemption’s Heart – pieces of my story

Interesting thoughts today

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Today is my second day taking concerta – my son relished the idea of waking up and asking ME if I remembered to take my medicine. Lovely. He thinks it’s hilarious. I’m still not so sure.

It hasn’t effected me like I feared. I’m not speeding, or overly energized in any way fashion or form. It did not keep me awake all night, and I’m afraid it has not burst forth a sudden gift of immense interest in house cleaning. So.. it’s isn’t a miracle drug.

And yet – this morning when my son asked where his school shoes were, I remembered them being at the foot of my bed.

When Charlie wanted the car keys – they were hanging up.

When a confusing confrontation took place I was able to discern the communication break down. The person in question is a literal thinker – I am more 3D in my thought process and take into account the spirit of communication and not just the one dimensional line. I could discern that and communicate that without much conflict, emotion or confusion.

I can clearly articulate thought structures again – something I thought was lost forever. My brain and my fingers (and mouth) are coming close to the same speed. I am no longer thinking so quickly that I lose the train for tripping on the tracks.

My husband is understandably iffy – and is distantly optimistic. With good reason – we’ve had a bumpy road while I try to figure out why I can’t “be like other people” – knowing something was not quite right, but not being able to find answers. I’m sad to admit that I had truly resigned myself to simply being a failure at life and that this (jumbled mess of a woman who can’t keep up with anything) is all I’d ever be.

It’s been an interesting road. I’ve known about being ADD for only five years. I’ve done everything my doctors (and therapists) have suggested. My tendancy to be larger than life and fast moving, can be a strong hold for others and gets in the way of my heart. I can learn how to work with this, instead of against it.

I have learned over the last five years that ADD can be confused with bi-polar disorder, but that it is not one and the same. ADD people are subject to depression and low self esteem. Point taken. And i’m not bi-polar – sadly that information saddened me. I thought if I was at least that, then I could understand. I’m just crazy. I would have been okay with that diagnosis. Crazy is better than failure. KWIM? – I’m not taking that nearly as flip and lightly as it sounds. I have a family member who is bi-polar – it’s painful to watch.

Knowing thyself is important, true. Trusting God enough to live in the room of grace – where he stands with me – looking at the real me, and working together to mature me into the woman he wants me to be – is a far better road than my simply toughing this out on my own and continuing to fall short. With Christ I am victorious. Alone – I drown.

Yes, my husband and my friends are correct. The less medicine the better. I’m trusting God with his provision and his care. If this is not the help he wants for me, he’ll show me that. But for right now, I’m enjoying the clarity, the lack of fog, and I am hopefully expectant in our future together.

A Simple Note Really, it seems I’m ADD

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I’m always fascinated by the tucks and turns of life. Mine especially. I’ve struggled with a lot of things lately and written them off as “Well, you do have a lot on your plate, of course it’s hard.” but secretly, in some deep down quiet place, I really do think it’s harder for me that it should be.

Does that speak to anyone? Or just me.

My mother tells me that I never met a stranger. I was very smart but always lived below expectations. An underachiever – who worked very very hard to stay afloat mind you. Grade school was a nightmare. Sometime in high school, I was able to pull myself up enough to get A’s and B’s. But it was hard work. And you can forget about college. I was lucky to get my associates degree in computers. I had a 2.89 gpa as I recall.

Pastor calls me his “social butterfly” and always points me in the direction of new comers in the church.

I love to teach.
I’m great at making people laugh.
I lose – everything I touch.
My house? I prefer not to discuss it. 😉

I’m not dealing with rocket science here. Just life. I’m a stay at home mom with two boys. My husband travels. I lose papers, car keys, glasses, I forget to pay bills, my finances are a jumbled mess most of the time – we have the money, I just forget to click “PAY”.

My youngest is ADHD, but I missed the signs for the hyperactivity. I’m not hyper, much, more impulsive than anything else.

An impulsive mess, actually.

When Dillon was first diagnosed with being ADHD, his ped offered to work with me as well. I wrote that off as a money hungry sales pitch and found a new doctor. His second ped said the same, as did his neurologist. ADHD is heriditary Mom, he got it from someone, are you sure it’s not you?

No. It isn’t me. Yes, I’m scattered, but that’s only because I was never taught how to take care of a home. There can’t be anything wrong with me a little hard work and better organizational skills won’t fix.

I asked my doctor about it, and we thought “maybe I’m just depressed. Maybe that’s why I’m so overwhelmed by the simplicity of my life.” and so we tried Prozac. All that did was make me fall in love with the color yellow and I painted my oldest son’s room a bright mustard color.

My career in telecom was a great success when I knew what my job was. Some positions were great, I had a worksheet of orders to follow and my day was totally scheduled and I did well. Other positions like finance? Well, not so well. Those were opened ended planning positions and numbers just weren’t my thing, so they put me back on the floor as a trainer. I did great at that. I taught new engineers about telephony. I walked them through a long distance phone call. Teaching them every piece of equipment calls traveled through and the cost per piece. I got scattered in my presentations some times, and was usually told, “You’ve obviously worked very hard at this Deana, let’s just focus it in a little bit.”

Then there were the part time office jobs. Those were fun most of the time. Until I took one that I was over qualified for. I was bored to tears, and picked up admin stuff for the Senior Pastor. Even then? I started losing things. Things like his outlines, or his re-imbursement requests for the new Vicar. And when the food pantry needs went from eight a week, to eight a day? I just couldn’t keep track or stay focused.

I finally really DID get depressed. In 12 months I lost ten friends (death), the only school my kids had ever known, was bad at my $8/hr cake job, Dillon’s seizures got worse and other life issues aroze.

My husbands always says “Deana hates surprises as much as she hates change.” Too many surprises and too much change. Everything overwhelmed me to the point of my becoming almost comotose. Sitting wrapped in a blanket on my back porch for hours at a time was all I could handle then. This time the meds did more than change my likes in color. This time they were necessary. I stayed on them and in therapy, for two and a half years.

I haven’t needed depression meds for over a year now. I’m no longer depressed. I’ve eliminated EVERYTHING from my calender except my house and my boys. And I’m still behind, I’m still overwhelmed and it’s still harder than I think it should be.

Last month we had Dillon re-evaluated for his ADHD, and this time the doctor gave us a survey to fill out for ourselves. Jeff answered yes to four, I answered yes to 17 out of 20. He strongly suggested I see my Dr. and just try ADD meds and see if they don’t help.

So today, I went to see Dr Laura. The women who has seen me through my ups and downs over the past five years. The women – who it turns out – is also ADD. It took some walking through conversations and explaining exactly which survey I’d filled out, and Dillon’s doctors requests over the years.

No it wasn’t some internet survey by Eli Lilly.
No, I’m not here to get drugs to lose weight.
No, I’m not depressed – just still unable to keep up with life.
Yes, I’ve emptied my day runner – I do nothing but be a mom.
No, my laundry is not caught up, my house is not clean, I have unfinished projects from two years back at least and I cannot balance a checkbook.
Is life supposed to be this hard?
Why can other women do all that? And more. I don’t get it.
I can’t even work outside the home anymore. It’s all too hard to juggle.

So, starting today, I am on Concerta 27 mg. I’m curious to see how it works. Or if it works.

My ADHD son thinks this is hilarious. My husband is, well, “Staying out of it.” 😉
My other son – the only sane person in the house some days is expectantly hopefull.

The Neurotic Messiah

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Back in December of 2000, I chose to take a chance and sing with Tulsa’s All Lutheran Messiah. Not because I’m such a wonderful singer that I wanted to perform – quite the opposite. I joined and took my feable voice as a praise offering to God. I was having a rough year and brought to the table, the only gift I had. The sacrifice of praise. Praising God, when your heart is shattered, is not easy, but it is healing.

I cannot read music but was assured I didn’t have to. She lied. I shook through the whole thing. Each practice I’d go, try to sing, and shake, and then go home saying no. I even had this cute little thing next to me tell me she didn’t know the music and I shouldn’t follow her as that’s probably what was making me sing off key. Wasn’t she a sweetheart.

I made it literally on my knees. I’d pray myself up during the week and go practice again on Sunday. I could not visualize the presentation, that terrified me, but I could visualize one practice at a time. And that, is how I got to sing in the All Lutheran Church Messiah – the second longest running presentation of The Messiah in the United Stated.

I process things through writing and through humor. And this is what I came up with.

The Neurotic Messiah

Oh no! What have I done? I cannot read a single note. Not one.
This score is much more complicated Than I ever anticipated.
I haven’t sung in a choir for twenty year.
And so began my chorus of fears.

The starts, the stops, the highs, the lows
The beats, the counts, the arpeggios.
The conductors who speak in some foreign tongue
Is it Latin, or Italian? I know not which one.

The M’s and P’s, and F’s and M’s.
Oh, these aren’t your typical church service hymns.
Am I an “S” or not an “S”
I do not know
and now they say my costume I need to sew.

(Uhm, I failed home ec, ya’ll)

“Light the fire but don’t take it out”?!
Would someone please tell me what that was about?

Now I’m told to sing like Ethel Merman
and that we aren’t singing, but giving a sermon.

Oh how I’m beginning to rue the day
when Sue Paulison said “Come on let’s play.
You don’t need to audition,
just show up and sing.
Being a part of “The Messiah” is a wonderful thing.”

I’m now thinking my impulse to do this was rash.
This may be a check I’ve written that my body can’t cash.
This is not good, not good at all,
but then again, does pride not come before the fall?

I drove straight home and on my bed I sat telling my husband,
I’m not going back!
And that is that!

Then standing in the hallway whom did I see
but my 9-year-old son listening to me.
“I thought you once said don’t ever quit.
So please tell me now, why are you doing it?”

I searched through my brain to frantically look
for some wise answer to get me off the hook.
Failing that I tried for the truth
Hoping somehow he’d understand, even in his youth.

“That may be true.” I answer, “But don’t you see?
There’s too much to learn and it’s too hard for me.
Besides, I really can’t sing, not like the rest.”
And he said “That’s okay Mom; just do your best.
God won’t mind, just wait and see.
Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

And so I sat with a guilty heart
wondering when my son got so smart.
And wondering why he now would choose
to remember my words and those words use.

Then henceforth came my next blessing
I caught a cold while I was dressing.
I coughed and sneezed and wheezed and gasped.
My voice, once loud, now barely rasped.
I cannot sing and cough no sir, they have to let me drop now, I’m sure.
No guilt, no blame, It’s not my fault. This cruel dance can finally come to a halt.

But Leon’s good. He doesn’t miss a trick.
You’d better get well and get well quick.
I’ll let you sing you’ll do just fine, people catch colds all the time.
And so went my last excuse.
Fighting God on this one seemed no use.

My costume’s all sewn by my friend Cyndi, with care,
At least now I will have something to wear.

I thought a “piano” is what you played and not what you sang
and this cold still makes me sound like a cat in the rain.

I’m not an “S” and this much I know
that’s to keep us from hissing during the show.

The Marys and Josephs have been picked out with care
now if only they could decide when they’ll be there.

The last practice has come we should know what to do.
Stand up straight, bend your knees, and that includes you.

The Altos still outnumber the rest by a score,
next year could you please try soprano some more.

The orchestra is with us, it’s coming together.
Somehow I doubt we could get any better.

Tell us Pastor Carter how does it sound
now that we’ve done this last go around?
“It needs to be crisp, we’ve lost that somehow.
Remember, you are praising God, so let’s pull it together now.
Sopranos are too strong, bring it down just a bit.
Bass’s your not emphasizing the lines that you hit.
Tenors and Altos your entrances are late,
but other than that I think it sounds great.”

Our differences we have quietly tucked away,
as all Tulsa Lutheran churches sing in harmony this day.
Clear and true our music does ring
as we praise and worship our new-born King.

All fears and joking are now put aside.
This is a worship service and our joy we can’t hide.
The true story of Christmas can only be told
through the lives of the ones who dare to Behold.

“Behold! I bring you tidings of great joy which shall be to all people.
For unto you is born this day in the city of David, a Savior which is Christ the Lord.”

The All Lutheran Church Messiah will be presented again this weekend at First Lutheran Church at 13th and Utica. I’m not singing in it. But I will be attending. See you there!

The Habit of Over Explaining

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I’m a student of many things these days, not only comedy, teaching and speaking, but writing as well. When I attended Speak Up Communications Seminar in Grand Rapids Michigan this past summer, I learned a lot of things about aim, rapport steps, transitions, and how to make a point in three minutes. Actually, what I learned was I’m a bit on the over achiever-try-too-hard edge where making one point in three minutes isn’t so hard, it’s the 20 extra that I try to cram in that gets me in trouble.

I also learned how to trust God through all of the shaking, doubting, and questionings. The “are you sure God?” doubts and fears. yes, he’s sure, and so he kept telling me every step of the way. Just be willing to learn. I’m still learning, I’m still willing, and I’m still trying.

I want to get better. In order to get better, I have to be out there, and willing to either strike the ball or strike out. But I have to be on deck for a chance at both.

My prayer journal on Matthew 23 is no different. There are many things I believe God showed me, but getting to those points? I’m over achieving in my blogs and not making sense. So.. if I were to make a basic outline, where would I begin?

I’ll find the aim, the point, and the message in time. But rather than slaughter it on my blog, I’ll leave with you with these points for now.

1. – My cup was full of distractions and disguises (Hypocrite is from the Greek – an actor in a play who wears masks.)
2. Therefore (as an adult convert) it should be no surprise that after Christ’s triumphal entry into my life that he would restore the temple (my heart) to a house of prayer.
3. It really helps if you believe his conversion, moving in, is permanent and not a live in lover temporary until you mess up kind of deal like I did.
4. There will be those who sit at the seat of moses, LISTEN TO THEM, just don’t copy them.
5. Don’t confuse Christ with a Pharisee – he won’t add to your burdens and do nothing to help carry the weight.
6. Set up no one as judge over your (my) life. There is only one Christ and it’s not them.
7. If your going to teach (speak, preach, lead, whatever) – do it as a fellow traveler – do not sit at the seat of Moses as Judge or Lord over anyone else.
8. Pay attention to the bones, be yourself, follow Christ,
9 – Don’t argue with a pharisee – but don’t forget that even Christ longed to gather them in his arms like a hen gathers her chicks. He wept over them as well.

10 – Psalm 103:12 “as far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us.”

Ponder this with me – one who redeems the life from the pit (vs 4) and crowns us with love and compassion says this about our sin “as far as the east is from the west, so far has he removed our transgressions from us.”

Do you know what that means? Can you picture this?

Look out your window – and think, if you or I were to walk out our front door and start walking Straight north, sooner or later we would come to the north pole. Right? What happens when we keep walking? Do we keep heading North? no. We start heading south.

If you (or I) were to walk out our front door and start walking East – we will circle the globe and never walk west. THAT’s how far God has removed our transgressions from us.

No dirty cup,
No need for fillers
No need to be a copy cat
or sit in the seat of moses.

Just grace. From the one who knew us first, and knows us best.

I’m still over explaining, I know. but you know what? I’m not going to quit learning how to find my aim and make my points. I’m not going to quit trying to teach, to speak, to laugh, or to sing. Because he has set a new song in my heart that cannot be silenced.

Psalm 103
Of David.
1 Praise the LORD, O my soul;
all my inmost being, praise his holy name.
2 Praise the LORD, O my soul,
and forget not all his benefits-

3 who forgives all your sins
and heals all your diseases,

4 who redeems your life from the pit
and crowns you with love and compassion,

5 who satisfies your desires with good things
so that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.

6 The LORD works righteousness
and justice for all the oppressed.

7 He made known his ways to Moses,
his deeds to the people of Israel:

8 The LORD is compassionate and gracious,
slow to anger, abounding in love.

9 He will not always accuse,
nor will he harbor his anger forever;

10 he does not treat us as our sins deserve
or repay us according to our iniquities.

11 For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is his love for those who fear him;

12 as far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us.

13 As a father has compassion on his children,
so the LORD has compassion on those who fear him;

14 for he knows how we are formed,
he remembers that we are dust.

15 As for man, his days are like grass,
he flourishes like a flower of the field;

16 the wind blows over it and it is gone,
and its place remembers it no more.

17 But from everlasting to everlasting
the LORD’s love is with those who fear him,
and his righteousness with their children’s children-

18 with those who keep his covenant
and remember to obey his precepts.

19 The LORD has established his throne in heaven,
and his kingdom rules over all.

20 Praise the LORD, you his angels,
you mighty ones who do his bidding,
who obey his word.

21 Praise the LORD, all his heavenly hosts,
you his servants who do his will.

22 Praise the LORD, all his works
everywhere in his dominion.
Praise the LORD, O my soul.

In the Face of Angels and Chariots of Fire.

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2 Kings 6:15-17 (NIV)
“When the servant of the man of God got up and went out early the next morning, an army with horses and chariots had surrounded the city. “Oh, my lord, what shall we do?” the servant asked.

“Don’t be afraid,” the prophet answered. “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.”

And Elisha prayed, “O LORD, open his eyes so he may see.” Then the LORD opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.”

Elisha was outnumbered. The enemy laid in wait from every side, and yet he wasn’t afraid. His servant? Well that was a different matter. It wasn’t the first time that Elisha had chariots. He was there when his mentor Elijah (2 Kings 2:12) was taken up in a chariot of fire. He knew they were there – and he prayed that God open the eyes of his servant that he might also see.

Sometimes we miss the chariots that surround us – sometimes God uses the faith of a servant/child to open our hearts to the possibilites of faith. Open the eyes of our hearts Lord, that we like Elisha may see your chariots.

When my boys were born, I kept the baby monitors on full blast so that I could hear the slightest sound and run in, should they need me. When they were sick, I slept on the floor next to their crib. You might say, I was a zealous new mother. I don’t know who learned how to sleep through the night first, me or my boys. Even today, I still have one ear cocked just in case.

My youngest son has epilepsy. He had his first grand mal seizure while napping in our bed at six-years-old. (If you don’t know what Grand Mal means, it’s where the whole body convulses. Pretty scary stuff. ) He’d had a migraine that morning and we were resting. The seizure took me by total surprise and I called the paramedics in a panic.

I would try to sleep in our bed after that and would invariably wind up on his bedroom floor listening. I kept this pattern up for about a month, before finally letting go. A year went by before he had another seizure.

On Father’s Day 2000 Dillon woke up with slurred speech, short term memory loss, and substantial muscle weakness on the left side of his body. The paramedics said it was a TIA or “mild Stroke.” The neurologist called it “Epilepsy” which really just translates to “seizure disorder.” or more simply put “Out of Mom’s Control.”

I don’t think so.

Both Dillon and I were afraid to sleep at night. My maternal instincts kept me awake listening for the slightest noise, so that I could run in and be there should he need me. I did not have the strength to sleep. My friends and I prayed continually for healing and for peace.

Every night our family would pray together that Jesus would hold Dillon while he slept and that God would send his angels down to watch over us and keep all of us safe. And we would try to crawl in to His lap for peace and comfort. Everyone, in their own beds, and no sleeping on the floor.

One night while we were sitting on our back porch swing rocking and singing together, Dillon asked me how I knew God would send his angels. I told him I just do, that it was about faith. But he looked up and said, “No Mommy. How do you KNOW He will.”

What happened to the easy questions, like “Where do babies come from?” That one I had an answer for. So I said a quiet prayer for the right words to say. How do I explain that I heard that prayer somewhere – I had no idea if it’s real or not, or where I heard it. I just did and thought it was cool.

It was one of those crystal clear Oklahoma nights where the sky just goes on forever, and I pointed at the stars and asked him what he saw. (My intent was to say if God can hang the heavens then surely he could send a few angels to watch over a child.) Dillon looked at the stars and said something only a child could say,

“EYES!”

“Eyes?” I replied. “I see stars.”

He said “Yeah Mommy, ANGEL EYES!”

With that he ran out to the middle of the yard, threw his head and his arms back and said, “Wow Mommy! Look at all the angels God sent to watch over me!” Then he gave me a quick hug and a kiss and ran back to bed, sleeping soundly for the first time in ages.

I of course, did not run straight to bed and sleep soundly. I fell flat on my face before the God of the universe in my backyard and asked him to see what my son sees.

Elisha saw Chariots, Dillon sees angels and I am learning to see the hand of God at work in ways I never imagined.

It is so easy in today’s world to feel outnumbered.
Feeling isn’t the same as real.
Sometimes we need our eyes opened
Sometimes we just need to look for chariots.

(February 10, 2014) – Dillon is seizure free today – five years, six months, and counting.

And Elisha prayed,

\”O LORD, open his eyes so he may see.\”
Then the LORD opened the servant\’s eyes,
and he looked and saw the hills full
of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha.”

 

What Not to Say to a King

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“Wow! You’re shorter than I thought you’d be.” – Me at 16 to King Karl Gustav the 17th, King of Sweden.

I am really glad they don’t behead people anymore. I’m pretty sure I would have lost mine after that little social mistake. It’s sometimes surprising to me, when I look at our world and discover we still have kings and queens. With all of the advancements we’ve made in civilization, I really don’t see the point. What isn’t so surprising is the reality that their positions are more image than impact. They don’t really get to do much any more. They have parliments and people who make the rules and laws for them. Royalty today, is pretty much relegated to kind of a rock star status. They are worshipped by many but carry with them very little clout.

I’ll make a king out of anybody it seems. The problem is, once I do and they come up short so to speak.. I might stop listening.

Matthew 23 1-3 (The Message)
Now Jesus turned to address his disciples, along with the crowd that had gathered with them. “The religion scholars and Pharisees are competent teachers in God’s Law. You won’t go wrong in following their teachings on Moses.

I almost missed it. In looking through Matthew 23, writing down names in my self-indulgent pitty party,I almost missed a very important passage. The NIV states “Those who sit in the seat of Moses.”

Jesus tells them – and us – to listen to them, referring to the Pharisees and Judges. It’s their job to know scripture, we’d be wise to follow their teachings. Just don’t copy their lives. They aren’t perfect. Yes they come up short,(and so do I.) but listen to them- they know what they are talking about.

Just don’t confuse those who sit in the seat of Moses with the One who sits at the right hand of God.

cont…

Be yourself…

Stop Setting Yourself on fire already…That’s my job

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“Holy Fire, Burn away
My desire For anything
that is not of you and is of me.
I want more of you and less of me. Empty me..” – Zion’s Fire

Whether or not I realized it, I was in a fire – not of my own making, but of Gods. Why? He needed to make room. My temple was cluttered with too many voices, and too many things.

Matthew 21: 12-17

Jesus entered the temple area and drove out all who were buying and selling there. He overturned the tables of the money changers and the benches of those selling doves. “It is written,” he said to them, ” ‘My house will be called a house of prayer,’ but you are making it a ‘den of robbers.'”

The blind and the lame came to him at the temple, and he healed them. But when the chief priests and the teachers of the law saw the wonderful things he did and the children shouting in the temple area, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they were indignant.

“Do you hear what these children are saying?” they asked him.
“Yes,” replied Jesus, “have you never read, ” ‘From the lips of children and infants
you have ordained praise’?”

And he left them and went out of the city to Bethany, where he spent the night.

—————————————————-

So how does a dirty cup, a triumphal entry and a cleared out temple tie into Matthew 23? Easy – I can talk the talk but stumble the walk. In missing the most important part, (John 3:16) I spend my time making up for lost time and hoping you don’t notice. And if you do notice, I might just set myself on fire.

Early on in my Christian walk, I wanted to fit in. More realistically, I wanted to morph into the walls and be invisible. I copied everything I saw until I looked on the outside how I really wanted to look on the inside. Right down to the shoes. If they wore it, I wore it, if they joined it, so did I. I’m not sure what I was hoping really, osmosis through copy write violations perhaps. False shame and false guilt turned me into the proverbial foot washer, hoping somehow my actions would make me as clean on the outside and everyone else seemed on the inside. I walked the “Jesus died for you, and I’m sneaking in on a borrowed halo” theology line. I talk a good line – but I don’t live it. Not when I spend my life looking grace in the face and working behind the scenes as if to say it’s not enough, twisting the fruit of repentance into groveling and penance.

I tend to set myself on fire just prove I fit in. Case in point:

I was attending a local women’s league event and at break went outside, and around the building to smoke – and hide. I had just lit my cigarette (with three other hiders like myself by the trash bin) when out walks a local pastor.

He wasn’t just any pastor – but the pastor who is over a church that we are considering joining. I wanted him to like me. I needed him to like me, because I wanted to join his church. Our pastor had taken a call out of state and we (my husband and I) were church shopping. I had (in my humble opinion) believed I’d tricked the first pastor in allowing me to stay and I needed to hone up on my costume changes to keep that going. I’m wrong on that assessment – but that’s another story.

Without thinking, I shove the pack of cigarettes in my pocket, and stick the lit one behind my back. That’s the funny thing about idols, they can breed fear, shame and dishonesty. In an instant , I communicated fear, dishonesty and distrust. The smoke billowing up over the top of my head comminicated the fact that my dress was about to catch fire. I can laugh about that today. But not then.

Lighting myself on fire, is not a new thing. It would take Christ to make an old thing like that, new. I needed a different kind of fire if he was going to have his way with me.

There is hope.

God also promises to replace those self inflicted fires with a new one -2 Timothy 1:6
“For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands.”

Once he got me to stop setting myself on fire, and set me on fire for him through the Holy Spirt, we still had work to do.

Taking Time with Jesus

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Taking Time with Jesus

Isaiah 43:1-4 (The message)

When You’re Between a Rock and a Hard Place
But now, God’s Message, the God who made you in the first place, Jacob,
the One who got you started, Israel:
“Don’t be afraid, I’ve redeemed you.
I’ve called your name. You’re mine.
When you’re in over your head, I’ll be there with you.
When you’re in rough waters, you will not go down.
When you’re between a rock and a hard place,
it won’t be a dead end—
Because I am God, your personal God,
The Holy of Israel, your Savior.
I paid a huge price for you:
all of Egypt, with rich Cush and Seba thrown in!
That’s how much you mean to me!
That’s how much I love you!
I’d sell off the whole world to get you back,
trade the creation just for you.


Oh that that were true God. I want to believe it, but people say I don’t. Do I?

“Sometimes I need to take time just to be with Jesus – to find out who and whose I am again.” Kathy Trocolli.

I believe that statement heart and soul – I also believe that if I don’t take the time, he will make the time. Can I hear an amen?

There is nothing like, burying most of your friends, losing a school, having health issues, teaching Bible Study, and leading prayer teams only to go home, wrap yourself up in a blanket on your back porch and stare at nothing for hours on end, believing that God and whole world hates you, – to get to your attention. He had my attention, trust me. The problem was, so did the enemy, and it was his voice I heard the most.

If you were to ask people their impression of me during that time period – they would have told you I preached a good sermon, taught a good class, but I didn’t know the gospel. That used to frustrate me to no end. How could someone think I didn’t know the gospel, just look at all of the things I get to do for God. Of course I know the Gospel. How could they even think that? Uhm… the fact that I shook like a leaf in the presence of Christians might have been a clue. Or the fact that when sharing my victories I was really sharing my fears. The “I cannot’s” of my testimony. Are you sure I’m called? Look at this mess. Really? Hmmmhmm. I wasn’t communicating victory, I was communicating defeat. And fear.

And so the cup breaks, and the real work begins.

Part of my personal testimony includes bits and pieces of loss, abandonment, and fear. when I was eight years old, I found out that I was originally given up for adoption and taken back by my grandparents as an infant. I’d been snooping in my mother’s room after school and found my original birth certificate and adoption papers. She was furious.

My father’s name was no where to be found. And neither was my father, as he had walked out on us when I was four. Even though the papers went on to show that he did legally adopt me, and I was given his name he still left. My mom tried her best to convince me that those choices were the best she could make when she had me and had no reflection on her current feelings or those of my birthfather. I had value and I had worth, and that our present circumstances (she was now raising me) should speak for themselves. At eight years old however, I reasoned that if she gave me up once, she’d do it again. And being adopted meant nothing if followed by being abandoned.

Much like Mary, I took those things and pondered them in my heart for most of my life. Imagine becoming a Christian, being adopted, being given a new name, and believing in your heart that it’s only temporary.
No wonder I shook.

Can you imagine being a Christian, gratefully receiving the triumphal entry of Christ into your life and yet believing it temporary? If not, you are blessed. If so, there is hope.

Zechariah 9:9
9 Rejoice greatly, O Daughter of Zion!
Shout, Daughter of Jerusalem!
See, your king [b] comes to you,
righteous and having salvation,
gentle and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.

Those words are repeated in Mathew 21
4This took place to fulfill what was spoken through the prophet:
5″Say to the Daughter of Zion,
‘See, your king comes to you,
gentle and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’


– with the Triumphant return of Christ to Jerusalem.

Those are also words sung during Handel’s Messiah – something I participated in on a pretty regular basis. Shaking the whole time. “Arise oh Daughter of Zion!”

How is it, I can know those words? Sing them even, and yet not believe them. It’s true. My head was full of grace, but my heart was full of fear.

And yet, I knew God’s word. God’s word said “Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you.”

My temple, had thieves. No sooner than seeds were planted, the enemy would steal them.

It shouldn’t surprise any of us that the first thing Christ did in Matthew after his triumphal entry into Jerusalem was to clean out the temple.

The first thing to go false shame. And it would take a spiritual fire to burn that one out. But first, I had to learn how to stop setting myself on fire.

cont…

Oh Woe is me

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The poem I posted the other day references the Father of Lies – Satan. I found it in an old prayer journal of mine. The same one that listed the seven woes warned about in Matthew. In learning about the dirty cup, and letting go of my rubbery mentality, God took me through the book of Matthew – I wrote down everything I learned, and pondered them in my heart for once, instead of just my brain.

Every time the water in my cup would go down, satan would speak an offering of some sort or other to pacify my heart. Junk Food – no more no less. I was so busy learning and teaching, I’d forgotten how to ponder, and digest. My cup was so full of misadventures and the fear of being found out (fog) there was no room for grace.

The only solution really, was to allow the cup to break. Then and only then could God get my attention long enough – to do something with it.

Over the next few weeks, I’m going to be blogging about the different things God showed me, not about leaders or rulers, but about myself. Someone else might read those verses and receive and entirely different message from God – and that’s okay.

Under no circumstances do I ever presume to say “This is an oracle of the Lord.” All I know is this is what I learned, and how I am trying to apply it to my life today.

My Cup Ranneth Over

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I remember being a little girl in the playground. The normal taunts would be passed around, and sure enough someone (usually me) would shout back, “Yeah, well I’m rubber and you’re glue. What you say bounces of me and sticks to you.”

Brilliant rebuttal. Unless you are sitting in church, instead of a play ground. And you are now in your 30’s instead of ten.

I thought I had a word for somebody once, but I was wrong. It turns out I can be one of those people sitting in the pews, listening to the sermon, taking notes and thinking to myself, “Wow I really wish so and so was here to hear that! That really applies to them.” Funny how those sermons always seem to apply to someone else, but never me.

I was working at an office at the time and received a phone call after a staff meeting. Someone had left their coffee cup warmer on and could I please go turn it off. Feeling rather bothered by what I viewed as a silly request, I turned off his cup warmer and left his office, leaving behind a full cup of coffee. I knew if I left it there over the weekend the coffee would get all moldy, and frankly I didn’t care. This would be the day that God chose to speak to my heart. “Empty and wash the cup Deana.”

I was really not in a generous and giving mood that day, nor was I in the mood to do such a humble act of kindness for somebody. But I listened to the voice. Once I emptied the cup, I noticed that while the outside was pretty clean, the inside was stained black with coffee stains. Matthew 23:25 came to mind – “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean. “

Okay, well it didn’t exactly come to me like that, it was more of a “isn’t there a verse somewhere in the Bible about dirty cups? I think it’s Matthew.” and I had to go look it up.

This would be when brilliant, rubber hearted, me, thought I had a word for someone else. I mean, it was much too harsh to apply to me, right? Thankfully, I left that word unspoken. I cleaned the cup and put it back in it’s place.

I later shared my experience with one of my girlfriends. Joy has a gift for telling the truth. She also has the spiritual gift of prophesy and I was excited that God had actually given me a word and I wanted to know what to do with it. She listened to me and asked me what I thought God was trying to teach me with that. I went into my “them” rant and she very gently stated that when God uses an object lesson in her life, the message is usually about her and I might want to view it from that perspective. Truth telling friends can really rain on a parade, you know what I mean?

My life was, at that particular season, about to fall apart, but I didn’t know that yet. At that time, I was cloud nine head over heals in love with God, believing the Gospel for everyone around me, and hoping to keep the hidden things hidden. My hidden things were ugly. My hidden things had deep stains on my spirit. My hidden things kept me a prisoner to the fear of being found out.

The reality of those hidden things spoke to me more frequently than God and told me I could “go this far, but no farther, remember what you are.” Listening to the enemy is never a good thing, but I was so accustomed to his voice, I didn’t realize who was speaking. Listening to the enemy, I polished my outer cup while filling the inside with everything I could to hide the stains.

Hungry for a fresh word from God, I would sit and study, teach and learn and wonder why he seemed so silent. He had words for everyone else it seemed, but not me. That didn’t stop me from singing, or from taking everything I could from the bible and memorizing it to hold onto. My brain was filling up to over flowing, but my heart was breaking. I would go and sing, and literally shake when in the presence of Christians I feared.

Failing to fully grasp that simple message that God so loved the world (insert ME) he sent his only begotten son, brought on one of the worst seasons of idolatry, heartbreak, and brokenness I have ever experienced. My own cup, was running over and time was running out. Hidden things get moldy when ignored. If God couldn’t find a way to connect my heart and my head soon, my cup was going to break. And break it, he did.

To be continued.