Friday, March 29, 2013

A Voice in the Garden


Garden:
1. a plot of ground, usually near a house, where flowers, shrubs,vegetables, fruits, or herbs are cultivated.


2.
a piece of ground or other space, commonly with ornamentalplants, trees, etc., used as a park or other public recreationarea: a public garden.


3.
a fertile and delightful spot or region.




For those of you who have read previous postings or know me in person, you know that I love gardens. You also know that I have often dreamed of God's garden and being with my Father there. 

Especially when the weather is like it is now in Iowa: Cold, bleak, empty, dead, grey,and depressing, I love to think about being in a warm garden. I was blessed to have grown up on a farm where my father's summer pride was large gardens of fruits and vegetables and flowers of all kinds and colors. 
In the Spring I would often go out barefooted and armed with a scissors to the lilies and the tulips, lilacs and apple blossoms, clipping and collecting the precious buds. Then, I'd carry my treasures back to the kitchen where they would reside in a large vase (or 2 or 3) on the table, adding brightness, color, and delightful scents to the place where I was doomed to work on my school, giving me hope that summer would come. 

In the summer, I'd have my own plot of watermelons to look after and weed. I loved this! One time I babied my watermelons so much that I harvested one that weighed 52lbs and was so large that I couldn't get my arms around it to bring it into the house. Thankfully my dad hefted it for me. :)

So, maybe I'm a little late to have this epiphany, but isn't it a wonder that God created a garden? That's what He made from day one and it's where He put all his treasured animals and His people. The Garden. Perhaps this is why when my heart longs to be with Jesus, it longs to be in a garden as well. Perhaps any farmer's garden is an exact display of the world as we know it. Full of weeds, in need of water, scattered with rocks and broken glass but owning to fertile places and rich soils. 

When I left for Nicaragua, my heart was is need. I've said this before, I know. I told the Lord before I left, "Show me whatever you want to show me, take me where ever you want to take me.. just be there when I get there." And often here, back at school, where I spend most of my awake hours secluded and away from people, when my heart is in the most pain, I ask the Lord to rescue me away and give me a taste of His presence in His garden. I love imagining what it shall be like when I get there for real. 

On Sunday morning in Nicaragua, as we began our drive to the village, I was just amazed at where the Lord had taken me. As I remembered the pain in my heart I asked the Lord to give me a taste of His garden so that I would be refreshed enough to do what ministry I was supposed to do. His peaceful voice responded to my request, "This is my garden, Fern. You are already here."



As I looked at the heat scorched grass, dirt, and piles of trash along the way I thought, "But God, your garden is beautiful and perfect and wonderful. How Can this be it?"
And He reminded me in my heart that the garden I was wanting was heaven, but I am not called to that now. Not yet. For now I have been called to an earthly garden that needs to be tended. It needs to be watered and cared for, planted and harvested. There are rocks and broken things and trash that prevents things from growing and so we have been called to do our best to remove them. Some places are more dry than others and some are more fertile. Some things grow well, somethings take lots of patience and effort. We can expect to get dirty and cut and splintered and blistered along the way, of course, since that is what all gardeners get. Sunburned, perhaps, too if we're not careful. 

But in this garden we have hope. We have a light that will always be warm and cause us to grow as long as we don't hide from it. We will always have the water we need to quench our thirst as long as we make the effort to drink it. 

Perhaps, as believers, we read the verse in Matthew 28 where God says to go make disciples and we think, "We have all been called to be pastors or preachers, missionaries and ministers" and then we think, "But that is not for me. Only a few people will be pastors but I am called to be a business man or a lawyer, a doctor or a teacher."
And there is nothing wrong with that at all. We are called to different things. But my thinking is, when God said, "Go" He meant more as, "Go into all my garden and plant the seeds, watering them and harvesting them and producing more seeds through one plant. Do this as lawyers or doctors or teachers or business men. Do this as mothers and fathers and students and pastors. Just go. Always plant, always water, always tend to and weed and nurture and care for my garden." 
And then He gave us our seeds. He gave us love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, gentleness and self control. He said, "Plant these. Grow them. harvest them and share them. Eat them and be satisfied. And as you plant them and they grow, they will be the choice morsels that you share with my starving, empty, broken world. They will eat them and they will grow."

And maybe "Preaching the Gospel" is not only a set of words or a script on how Christ died in our place but the simple display of the fruits God gave us. After all, His whole act of creation and sending Christ to us and redeeming us again has love and joy, peace and patience, kindness, goodness and gentleness and self control perfectly weaved into to it, making the story one of the most beautiful displays of who God is. 

We are all called to the same thing we were created for, to keep and tend to and care for God's garden. It didn't stop when Adam and Eve were kicked out, it just got a little more difficult. And there are days when we fall. Just like we have from the beginning of time. And we hide and we cower and we feel shame and separation. And God comes seeking and finding asking, "Where are you?" Not because He doesn't know but because we don't. But He clothes us in the wool of His precious lamb and tells us to continue to work the ground and bare fruit that will last. And while we work tend to His garden on earth, He tends the Garden of our heart, being the ultimate example of how we are to be. 

He pulls our weeds, waters our dryness, ad removes the rocks and broken things that prevent things from growing. He creates in us the most beautiful flowers and fruits that can only be attributed to His handiwork. And while He does this He says, "Go. Do what I do. Get dirt on your hands and sweat on your brow. Be blistered and burnt and cut. And I will be with you, even to the end of the age. I will work with you and next to you. I will help you and sustain you."

And so we press on. We labor and toil and sweat and tire. But all the while, there is a voice in the garden telling us He is proud. Telling us we are loved. Telling us we are beautiful. And one day, we will see the face the belongs to the voice. 




Tuesday, March 26, 2013

How Love Heals the Heart

Where to begin? I don't even know. There is absolutely no doubt that God wanted me on this trip. It was exactly where I was supposed to be. 

Even in the hours prior to leaving my parents house in Storm Lake, I was receiving text messages and facebook messages of encouragement from several friends telling me they would be praying for me. I felt so loved and more than ready for the adventure that lay before me. 

My heart needed it so badly. Deep down there was a part of my heart that had not  yet healed and there was a part that Jesus needed to bring back to life. Oh how the Lord blessed me!

On my first flight from Omaha to Houston, I sat by a lady and her husband who were on their way to tell people the gospel in Honduras. She spoke words of encouragement and affirmation as I told her about our trip. 
The sun rose as we flew to Omaha. I was reading my Bible and listening to worship music as I looked out and saw this. It was one more way that I felt loved by the Lord as I set out on my adventure to be with Him. 


We rushed through the Houston airport to catch our flight to Managua and I found myself sitting by a lady and her 17 year old son who were both wearing matching missions trip shirts. So, I asked what she would be doing in Nicaragua and she told me she'd be doing medical stuff and children's ministry through a mission based in Managua. She asked me what I'd be doing and I told her basically the same thing. I asked her what her story was and she asked me mine and for the next 4 hours we talked about Jesus and she excitedly shared with me things I should look forward to. Once again I was SO encouraged and my heart was ministered to before I even landed in Nicaragua. By the time we landed I felt like I'd known her a life time and I had to remind myself that she was on a different team than I was. I remember thinking how much I love the body of Christ. How beautiful a thing that one can board a plane with a complete stranger and be working toward the same thing and love and encourage each other in such a short time.

After landing in Managua and getting in line for customs I realized that I knew the strangers on the plane better than i knew most of my team. As I stood in line, I informed the two girls standing next to me that I didn't know anyone and didn't have especially many friends along on the trip. They both informed me that they were in the same boat as for one, she only knew her dad and the other, her only friends had gotten left back in Omaha when they plane bumped 8 if our team members off. 
We decided we should be friends on account we all were in need and I'm quite glad we did. 

I sat by myself in the back of the bus on the drive to the mission house. The young boys were in the seats around me but I was quite content to listen to them chat rather than participate. This was another  way that The Lord was bringing healing to my heart. I have missed my interactions with my brothers and thus even being around boys their age was comforting to me. I felt at home on any case.

Upon arriving at the mission house we were given time to rest a little before a team meeting in the dining room. 

The mission house... That place was a gift from heaven in and of itself. Perhaps the most beautiful place I have ever beheld. 
The "living room" of the mission house. There was a whole wrap-around deck lined with more rocking chairs outside.

There were rocking chairs all over the place. :) I LOVE rocking chairs. I have one of my own that I love to sit in after a long day of class. When I visit my grandparents house, one of my favorite things to do is sit in their old wooden rocking chair. Basically.. rocking chairs make me feel at home. I can't even begin to tell you how wonderful it was to arrive at the mission house and just sit on the porch in a rocking chair whilst enjoying the warmth and view of Managua. 

Of course when I first arrived, I still was at a loss as to who I should interact with as I had only made friends, kind of, with the two girls in the airport and they were resting in their rooms when we got there. At one point I got to sit down by one of my friends from mission trips past and ask what the Lord had been doing in his life. He then asked me how I was coming into the trip and after sharing with him the somewhat broken and exhausted state of my heart, he was quick to encourage me and affirm me in saying, "Then this is perfect for you! This is exactly where you need to be." That was just.. huge. I could hear it a billion times but it was so soothing and encouraging every time. It didn't matter to me who said it, ultimately I felt like it was my heavenly father giving me straight up verbal affirmation and peace as I had been a little anxious about being "out of my comfort zone". But I was more at home there than I have felt in a long time. I think that is because Jesus was there and His presence was obvious. 

That first day we rested and got to know each other. We filled 1,000 family packs in 20 minutes, we played catch phrase, we chatted and shared stories, we laughed, we smiled... it was perfect. I laughed more in the first 24 hours of the trip than I have laughed in a really long time. That was one part of my heart that needed to be awakened and I felt so alive in being able to laugh. 

That night, though I was terribly exhausted, I was far too excited to sleep. I was overwhelmed by joy and peace to a point where it was difficult to rest in it. My heart was so happy!

Sunday we got up at 6am.. though I'd awaken at 5, and readied ourselves to go out to the village. 
We had devotions at 6:45 and I was privileged to get to share what was on my heart going into the trip. Of course I received more encouragement from my team members during and after breakfast. We then loaded ourselves onto the buses and began our 5 hour bus ride to La Santo. 

I get motion sickness pretty easily and it didn't take long before I felt like my stomach was tying itself into a knot. Having lived independently at college the last 4 years I'm quite used to people not caring and toughing it out on my own. 
The people I sat by were first to notice and even though they couldn't do much more than feel a little sorry for me, it was comfort enough. 
At the the half way point we stopped at a grocery store for lunch and that is where I really came to know just how well I was cared about. I was given medicines to help with the motion sickness and was offered encouragement from more of my team. Even though I was traveling with a medical team, I was simply not used to people caring and it was so...ministering to my heart, just like everything else. But that is how it went the rest of the trip. Ant bites, chigger bites, nausea, dehydration, sun burn.... anything, people checked on me and gave me what ever was needed and genuinely cared how I was doing. I felt loved by it. Not just by the people, but by God. I felt God's love for me in how my team members cared for me and about me. 

 Another thing about this trip is that I expected to be out of my comfort zone with the geckos and the bats and the bugs. I wasn't so much. Whilst the ant bites and chigger bites were not pleasant by any means, they didn't bother me and it felt quite like the adventure I had been longing for. There was never a point where I missed my cell phone or the internet or my hair straightener. If anything, I felt more than free. The time seemed to pass slowly there. I remember the first day we arrived and set up the pharmacy I thought it was something like 5 in the evening when a glance at my watch informed me it was no later than 2. We passed the time by talking to each other, which I loved. We had ample time to interact and laugh and be alive. 


 Children's ministry I loved!! I didn't know a touch of Spanish but it didn't matter. God's love knows no boundaries. :) We had great interpreters, though. 

We did 4 or 5 services most days. We shared the gospel with the children and our interpreters gave them the opportunity to pray and ask Jesus in their heart. What a joy to see!

One night in Children's ministry we were all just running wild taking pictures and hugging and laughing... it was fun. 

 I  also went into this trip needing to be used. One of the nights that our worship leader wanted to do a song that had actions with the kids I was impromptu assigned to lead the actions. It was so much fun! I loved it all. 


I have always been in awe of God when looking at the stars. One of the nights, I was invited to look at the stars with the younger members of the team. I saw three shooting stars and even just laying under the stars watching the bats fly over head made me feel loved. Every little thing brought healing in a new way. 


Monday, March 25, 2013

We're back at the mission house again. I want to live here. It's built on a hill over looking Managua and the balcony has rocking chairs along it. The house is all open, the only difference in walking inside from out is that there is more walls and a ceiling. But the doors are always open and. The air is warm. I am completely at peace here. Sitting on a rocking chair on the balcony over looking the mango trees. 

Saturday, March 16, 2013

Safe and sound

I'm here!! Nicaragua! I can't even begin to describe it. I didn't sleep much last night..if at all. 
This fiasco happened in the airport this morning when Houston sent a smaller airplane than planned when the bigger plane had mechanical problems. 8 of our team members got bumped and they have spent the entire day being flown all over the U.S. trying to make it to Houston. They were driven to the airport in Sioux Falls, flown to Denver, currently on their way to Portland where they will try to sleep on the plane as much as possible and then land in Houston early tomorrow morning hopefully catching the flight to Managua at 9am. 

38 bags are missing. Medical supplies and clothing. I don't know yet if I will have my bedding when we leave for the village tomorrow morning at 8am. It'll be a five hour bus ride and its expected to be 94F.

I have laughed so much!!

I sat be total strangers on the planes who also loved Jesus and encouraged me on my merry way. 
I am loved here. By Jesus. Everything has made me feel loved.

I have thus far encountered geckos and bats...in our main area. I haven't minded.
I honestly feel at home here.. I love it.

This is it!

It's 3:30 am! I got a wonderful 3ish hours of sleep, I think. Maybe not quite that much. Ha..I'm so excited! The members of my team I have thus far met have been so welcoming and loving and I already think I've laughed more in the last 12 hours than I have in a long time.

Yes. This is what my heart needs. I've received so much affirmation in the last 24 hours even that I know that this is exactly where The Lord wants me..no matter what happens.

Thursday, March 14, 2013

Ready For the Adventure!

It's happening!! roughly 36 hours from now I will be readying myself to be at the airport with my team by 3:45am, Saturday morning. To say I'm excited would be an understatement!! Last night I could barely sleep just thinking about the adventure that awaits me! My Jesus has gone before us and I am overwhelmed with delight to see what great plan He has in store. 





I am excited to be away from this city. I'm excited to have my eyes opened in a new way. 
I am excited to be surrounded by champion warriors of the faith who have made this trip multiple times already. 

Since being in college the BIGEST thing I've missed by far has been men and women older than 35 who have been walking with the Lord faithfully for a long time. I know the lord has placed me among peers for this short time and it's all in His perfect plan, but there is something about someone who has gone before you and has experience and wisdom under their belt to encourage you along. 


That is not to say I haven't been blessed by the women who are in there 20s and 30s who have poured into me. I have been BEYOND blessed. :) Jesus is all about the blessings. 

My roommate and I were talking earlier today at how amazing it is that one could be in a whole different country in a matter of hours with how accessible the world is today. 

Being a believer makes it even MORE accessible. There was never a point when I worried over the finances of this trip. The Lord is all about providing where there is a need. Now, if I were to take a personal trip to Europe someday.. I would be pinching pennies and planning ever so carefully how I would make ends meet in the meantime. 

With this, there was never a wonder at how I would be able to afford a trip. Saying "yes" to the invitation to go was all it took and then my wonderful family and friends said "yes" to joining me on the adventure and that's all it was. Simple acts of obedience on everyone's side and there will be people saying "yes" to Jesus in a whole other country in just a couple days. 

"yes yes yes!" I suppose it's a little like a proposal. Christ gets down on his knee and asks if we'll be obedient to His calling. We either say, "yes" or we walk away. Well, yes! A thousand times, yes, Jesus! I will go. 

And it will be hard. And I shall probably cry a little. But it will be, in all things, wonderful. Every heart stretch, every dirt stain, every smell encountered, every bug bite, every sunburn... all of it. Jesus will be there and so I shall have joy. 


Monday, March 11, 2013

Love on the Battle field

"Back to reality." That's what I say every time I return to Iowa City after some weekend away doing wonderful things. As soon as I exit onto Dubuque Street and start driving past familiar things like the Mayflower dorm or the Iowa River I think, "Sigh... back to real life." 

I hate it. I love my moments away. I won't be "home" in Iowa City a single weekend in March and I'm very okay with that. Even now I'm excited just to think that I'm leaving the country in a couple days. I have no idea what to expect, but I will be away from Iowa City and for a few days I will be able to forget about..life, I guess. My life is not miserable, it's just..exhaustive. When I come back to Iowa City I just think about school and assignments and exams. I think of stress. I think of all the dark valleys I've walked through since being here. I think of the spiritual darkness that surrounds this city. 

But maybe I have it backwards. Maybe I hate "Reality" because it's not reality to me. I love my moments with Jesus because they are so peaceful and refreshing. Because for a moment I am free from thinking on the troubles of this world and the weight on my shoulders is lifted. I live for those moments. 

I think the reality in Iowa City that I dread so much is the war that wages strong every day. It's a battle ground where we who have been stationed here get wounded and struck down. We are tested in every way, pressed on all sides, all the while tip-toeing around land mines of discouragement that create crater-like pits that we fall into after they go off, leaving us wounded and stuck. When we are rescued out, we have to pick up where we left off and keep up the fight. And we get exhausted. When we feel like we can't do it any more, an agent of darkness dressed as light named Apathy opens its home to us and offers us a place to "rest" and not fight any more, whilst we are unaware of how the door is actually on its side and leads to a different hole that can leave us trapped and restless for longer than we even realize. 

I went on a retreat this weekend to Des Moines. I was looking forward to it, but I wasn't excited. As a leader, I attended a meeting with other student leaders before the first session and the speaker asked us how we were doing coming into the retreat. So many people yelled out, "PUMPED!" "STOKED" "SO EXCITED" in response that I think my quiet little, "Exhausted and worn out" was lost in all of that. Honestly, my heart was simply tired. 

As worship started, there was a part where just the drums were playing and it sounded a little bit like the sound of those revolutionary war movies where the drums are played as the soldiers line up for battle. And then the Lord gave me a great picture as my eyes were shut. I saw myself as a warrior wounded and weary trudging along a path to a Great City whilst a war waged on around me. The City being heaven where people who step into eternity are welcomed to not fight anymore. I wanted to be there but it wasn't my time. And so, whilst I trudged and the drums continued, the King of the Great City rode out to meet me, fully dressed for battle Himself. And then He took His place fighting next to me and fended off what I had not the strength to fight. And then on the battle field there was a tent for wounded soldiers and my King pulled back the flap on the tent and said, "Come in and rest a bit, Fern. Take a break while I fight for you." And that was how the Lord welcomed me to this retreat. 

It was so wonderful. I honestly just felt loved. I told the lord that during worship I wanted to feel either brokenness or joy but just not complacency because I wanted to feel the Lord work. But there were times when I felt nothing and this made me sad. But the Lord reminded me that I was resting and that I was emotionally exhausted enough already. I needed that. It was good to just sit and listen to people worshiping and not feel guilty for not feeling it. I felt the Lord ministering to me even though it wasn't in the form of emotion or experience. I knew He was at work in my heart. And when I realized all this, I was able to worship because I wanted to and not because I felt like it.

I think in all reality, our physical lives...school, relationships, life...those things are the distractors from reality. I think reality is the spiritual battle that we catch a glimpse of every now and then but will never fully see until we take the step into the Great City and put down our weapons for the last time, never to pick them up again. One day we will not be wounded anymore. One day we will not be discouraged ever again. One day we will no longer be a target to arrows and daggers and swords that come at us in the form or sharp words and rejection and lost hopes. One day the King will come on His great White Horse and end the battle for good. In the meantime, we fight little battles here and there. 



Battles in the forms of struggling relationships, stressful school assignments, future hopes, present discouragements and a host of other things. We no sooner finish one battle than we turn around to fight the next one. And sometimes it seems like we've been taken down, wounded in the legs and curled up in a fetal position on the battle field when the enemy kicks us anyways. We question why we must be hurt on top of hurt when it's obvious we can't go any further any ways. We question where the Lord has gone or if He is so caught up in another battle that He doesn't see that we've fallen and can't take another step whilst our wounds are throbbing and possibly become infected. 

My little brother, Kolby's, favorite line from the movie "How to Train Your Dragon" is. "oooh! Love on the battlefield!" Which he says all the time about anything, whether it makes sense or not. That line actually has a lot of truth to it. There is a Love on the battlefield and it's sometimes hard to see.  What we don't realize is that our helmets have fallen over our eyes and we just can't see how the Lord is still fighting off everything still trying to attack us, protecting our crippled bodies whilst His best doctor and healing Holy Spirit begins to tend to our wounds. 

So here's my thing... I think we all need to realize just how serious the war is. Think about it, when someone really hurts you, you can honestly put your hand on your heart and catch your breath and think, "Whew.. ouch." How is that possible? It's because there is a very REAL enemy with REAL flaming arrows that REALLY pierce your heart with what ever nasty evil thing he can manage to get through to you. 

So be on your guard. Be vigilant. Be ready. 

Being apathetic is a dangerous hole to climb into. It's not a safety trench, it's a trap. 

Fight for your friends. We see our friends go down all the time. They get slashed, they get wounded. Speak truth to them. It's a soothing creme that brings healing to the wounds. 

Don't attack Christ when you get wounded. Just because He's the closest one to you when you get hit, it doesn't mean that He was the one who did it. He was just the one to catch you as you went down. 

Don't think you can fight this alone. Seriously, there's like.. way too many battles for you to think you can take them all on. First of all, Christ is gonna fight next to you whether you welcome Him or not. 

Don't underestimate your power to fight. Wanna know something AMAZING??
"One of you routs a thousand, because the LORD your God fights for you, just as He promised"~Joshua 23:10 *Mind blown*

Basically, no matter where you are, exhausted or not, the Lord is fighting for you and you are to be encouraged by that. Keep it up! I'll see you on the other side. 

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Put Some Dirt On It t

I don't really have a great intro into my thoughts, so I'll just jump right in. 

Currently the ministry I'm involved in is going through Romans 8. It's pretty great. In the first couple verses it talks about how there is no more condemnation for those in Christ Jesus and how we've been set free from the law of sin and death. 

One of the questions given to us for leading in discussion was asking what kinds of things we still feel guilty for. One of my friends, who is also a co-leader of our Bible study, mentioned how she still feels guilty over something that she shares in Bible study on occasion when she gives an example of how God helped her to overcome it. She said she still feels shame in having to say that's who she was. 

Funny how Satan can use that. We die to sin. Our OLD self dies. And then as the coffin is laid to rest, Satan pushes us in the hole with it where we sit on it and say, "I am dead to sin. Look, here is proof, I'm sitting on my old self. That is dead." And then our "New Identity in Christ" changes from "The person who struggled with _____" to being "The person who overcame _____ through Christ." 
Not that that's especially wrong, but, you still have ______ in the title of your name. Stop that. 

Let the dead be dead. Here's what Christ wants you to do: Put some dirt on that coffin. It's dead, it's in the hole, let it be. Put the dirt on it, bury it, walk away. 
Not to disregard your story or how Christ will use your testimony to reach others. That's still important. Every sin and struggle I ever conquered through Christ is still a big deal. But the thing is, it's not me any more. It happened, but it's in the past. Let it become a story rather than a present day thing. 

When I first came to know Jesus and people would ask me my story, I always got a little nervous and my heart would go thumpity thump and my hands would sweat and I was always secretly praying that they weren't judging me or thinking I was some sorta messed up head case. 
My story was mostly that I had struggled with a something and then Christ came and changed my heart and my struggle with the something ended. 
It wasn't until my freshman year of college when I shared "my story" and received the reaction I always dreaded that I decided, "You know what? That's not who I am any more. I'ma leave that be in the past." And there was a lot of freedom in that. Sure, I'll gladly share what Jesus did to get me where He has me now, but it's not part of my new identity. 

My identity is not wrapped up in dark places, or struggles, or addictions, or hurts that Christ overcame. It's more wrapped up in walking in the light, knowing peace, feeling loved, and being healed. It's everything beautiful that Christ ever did and not the ugly things that I do and Christ fixes. 
It's a difficult concept, but It's an important one for believers to grasp. That sign that Satan hangs around your neck as "Part of your new identity in Christ" weighs a lot and it's gonna cause you to trip and fall. 

Besides, if you don't put the dirt over that dead self, you might be tempted to lift the lid on that coffin and think on who you once were far too many times than you should. And maybe it's a hard thing to do, but Jesus happens to have a bulldozer handy (I happen to know 'cuz he ran a demolition project on my life last semester) and I'm sure he'd be happy to help you get it all covered up and buried for good. 




"Your past has not come full circle to its complete redemption until you allow Christ not only to defuse it, but also to use it." ~Beth Moore

Friday, March 1, 2013

Time Doesn't Heal

Time. 

"The indefinite progress of existence and  events in the past, present, and future regarded as a whole"

"A moment or definite portion of time allotted, used, or suitable for a purpose." 

"The right moment"

"An indefinite period" 

All of the above are dictionary definitions for the word "time." I was asked recently by a stranger, "What is one thing you find yourself wishing you had more of?" My answer didn't take much thought, of course. I wish I had more time for things. And at the same moment, I hate time. At least I think I do. Time changes things. Time loses things. Time swallows things.... good things.

And, at the same awful moment, time is our friend. It puts a little distance between us and the painful life events we experience. It supposedly brings about healing. It brings us to new things and takes us from one adventure to the next. 

Here's what I like, God is outside of time. That's such a strange concept to me. But, it is a comfort to me all the same because since God is removed from time, He doesn't change, He doesn't get lost, He doesn't get swallowed. He doesn't become distant after we've survived a painful time. I like that. 

Here's what I don't actually believe: Time heals. 
In all my 21 years of existence, I have yet to witness this first hand. If someone has an example of it happening in their life, please share.  

 Wisdom is "the quality of having experience, knowledge, and good judgement" and at 21 years, maybe I don't have a ton of any of that, but as I try to logically sort out all the happenings of my life and make sense of everything like a normal person would, I've come to understand a thing or two. 

Okay, so, 21 years of wisdom, this is what I got on time + healing in the most logical way I can think it:

God made us. He gave us life. He loves us, He treasures us, He delights in us. 
He gave us a heart. Not the organ,  the other one.. shaped like this: 

And it's special. It is custom made, unique to us. Because it was hand-crafted, knit together and fearfully and wonderfully made. 
We are cautioned to guard it by the wisest man of all time in Proverbs 4:23 when Solomon warns us, "Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life."

You know why it's the wellspring of life? Because when we become a believer, that is where Christ resides. And you know what He is? Life. 

John 14:6a "Jesus answered and said, "I am the way and the truth and the life....."

And then Jesus gives us a great warning: "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come so that you may have life, and have it to the full."

So, observation #1: Our hearts are super important and essential to our lives. Guard, guard, guard. 

Okay, we got that. Nextly.. life happens. Time, if you will. Pain. 
Rejection happens, hopes get crushed, dreams die, sharp words are said, loved ones step into eternity, darkness comes, hurt comes along, disappointments pile up, sadness overwhelms, forgiveness is elusive, and one sword, knife, arrow, dagger after another finds its way into our hearts popping holes in our wellsprings causing the life to drain out of us and leaving us empty. Pain acts like a gas and expands in the empty caverns our our hearts and while our hearts are overwhelmed and weighed down and heavy, they are empty. 

You know what kind of healing time does? Surface. The knife goes in, and time closes the wound.... over the knife. That stays. And while you can look and not see it, if that knife gets poked a little on the surface... it hurts just as much, if not more so, as it did when it first went it. 

It's like this one time when I was probably a sophomore in high school. On some glorious evening in the spring/early summer, my siblings and I decided we would try out this wonderful looking river a few miles from our house. My parents were off at some evening church/Bible study type deal so it was ideal for us to hop in the river on account it's easier to ask forgiveness than permission when we go on grand adventures. The river was deep and fast on account it was spring and snowmelt and spring rains caused it to swell. Our goal was to just sit in it and try it out incase we wanted to ride it with floatation devices in the future. There were a lot of rocks at the entry point.. the really thin kind that break easy.. I think it's shale. Anyways, so basically, whilst standing in that deep river we used our bare little feeties braced against the rocks at the bottom of the river to keep us from being swept away. What happened was that all our our little feeties got cut by the rocks. 
My sister being in nursing school at the time took care of our feet when we returned home so our parents wouldn't know. She lined us up and used super glue to put all the cuts back together. Brilliant right?

Well, while the wound was closed, it still hurt to walk and a couple 2 or 3 days later I decided to split the cuts back open and I found that I actually had thin pieces of shale in my foot yet. Once all of that was removed, then my foot healed a lot faster and walking wasn't a pain any more. 

That's happened to me with splinters, too. You get a sliver or wood or glass or something in you and the skin heals over it but it becomes infected and painful and any poking on the surface produces pain. Then you have to go through the pain of opening the wound, digging the thing out, and letting it heal properly. 

All that is to say, time can only heal properly after the thing that caused the pain has been removed. So many people fail to grasp this concept. (I'm guilty of this too). They think that burying things/not dealing with them will bring healing. Since when does shoving a splinter further down remove the pain? It doesn't. 

My heart was not really made for being a pin cushion I don't think. I don't think God ever meant for it to house swords or daggers or arrows or shards of broken glass dreams. 
There was a time when it did. A time when that's all it housed and all of that nastiness caused thick layers of scar tissue and hard leathery walls that kept all of it in. Somehow I believed that my walls would keep people from hurting me any more. I believed I was strong. I believed that remembering the pain people caused would help me to keep it from happening again. But every surface level tap, poke, or accidental bump hurt so deeply it sometimes took my breath away. And in the scar tissued, thick leathery walls of my broken empty heart which I believed was a safety wall, Satan held me prisoner. 

Until one day, in a desperate plea for God to prove His love and take the pain away I was told by my Heavenly Father that He could only take the pain if I let him. It took a bit of arguing back and forth before I realized that the key to unlocking my prison was this wonderful thing called forgiveness. At the time I was quite stubborn and told the Lord that none of the people who had initially drove the knives into my heart were sorry and therefore didn't deserve my forgiveness and would only be able to hurt me again if I let the things of the past go. Of course the Lord responded back that I didn't deserve His forgiveness at all either but I got it anyways. 

Thus started the most wonderful surgery of my life. As the Lord extracted one sharp object of pain after another, scraped away the dead things, cleaned up the wounds, re-constructed the parts that had caved in, tore down the walls and rebuilt them with love (Which is a much softer but stronger material, btw) and miraculously transformed the most train-wrecked of a heart into a wonderful new thing, I learned for the first time what it's like to know Jesus for real. 

And since that day, whilst arrows and daggers, and knives and swords have all slashed, cut, poked, ripped, and tore away at my heart, My Jesus has gallantly fought and fended and guarded His new place of residency as if it were His most treasured possession. And that makes me feel loved. It causes me to fall in love all over again. 

Sometimes I imagine I shall get to heaven and meet Jesus face to face and I shall look at the holes in his hands and he'll say, "These are from the time that sword almost got into your heart, but I held up my hands and kept them out." 


"And this hole in my side? Well, that was from that time that that really painful thing happened and it almost took the wind out of you, but, I took the hit and kept it from going all the way through your heart. It only got half way before it went in my body..and then I pushed it out." 

"And these holes in my feet? Well there was this one time that you were really being attacked. The enemy was really knocking at the door of your heart. I had to brace the door shut with my feet and they poke their little swords through the door, but no worries, I kept it shut for you. "

" And these stripes on my back? Well, you know.. you built some dreams out of glass and they were beautiful and shiny and clear. Unfortunately, they got shattered and, well, all the tiny pieces ripped me up too, but they got me.. not you." 

"Oh my head? Well, sometimes the enemy liked to attack your thoughts. He had a nasty, nasty plan. So, I let him poke his holes in my head instead." 

"I was beaten beyond recognition, I know. That's because life wanted to beat your heart to pulp and beyond all recognition. I wasn't gonna let that happen so I let them beat me instead."

And I will silently stare in awe of the man who took the beating in my place, not knowing how I could ever have questioned Him or accused Him of not being there.

 And He will look at me with love in His eyes and throw back his head and chuckle as He says, "Oh Fern, It's because I love you. When I gave you the Bible and said, 'The Lord will fight for you, you need only to be still' did you think I wasn't serious? When I said we'd drink of the same cup did you think that meant we wouldn't both be hurt? No, you got hurt too. Of course you did, but I got the things out so you would heal. So you would know my love. So you would learn to trust me. How would I have ever showed you that if you were never attacked or wounded?" 

And perhaps I will want to protest and say I'm sorry that He had to go through that for my sake. But He will silence me before such a protest can be said and He will tell me it was His pleasure and He wouldn't have wanted it any other way. And with a cheeky little grin and a wink He will say, "It was worth it." 

I look forward to that.

 Right now I'm stuck in time. That window of "An indefinite period."
The place of, "The indefinite progress of existence.." The space of, "time allotted, used, or suitable for a purpose." God is outside of time, but he reaches in and says, "Fern, here is your allotment of time. It's suitable for a purpose and well, I have one for you. I have plans for you. Plans to prosper you and not to harm you. Plans to give you a hope and a future. Just trust me."

For for the time being, I have no idea what my purpose is exactly. But I imagine that it shall be great.  It must be! after all, Christ is fighting so much for it and considers it worth it. :)

Ecclesiastes 3: 


There is a time for everything,
    and a season for every activity under the heavens:
    a time to be born and a time to die
     a time to plant and a time to uproot,

    
a time to kill and a time to heal,

    a time to tear down and a time to build,
     a time to weep and a time to laugh,
    a time to mourn and a time to dance,
     a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
    a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
     a time to search and a time to give up,
    a time to keep and a time to throw away,
     a time to tear and a time to mend,
    a time to be silent and a time to speak,
     a time to love and a time to hate,
    a time for war and a time for peace.
What do workers gain from their toil?  I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race.  He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.