Hello, my friends, I hope you’re drying out. June was definitely a stormy month.

Many of us were reminded that gloomy weather can drag us under if we’re not alert. Lack of sunshine makes us tired. And tired tempts us to be grumpy. As the Fourth of July approaches, let’s focus on freedom. The spiritual and emotional freedom to live beyond our feelings that shift faster than the weather.

Let’s look at some emotions that pull us down. Let’s ask:

Am I easily offended?

Jennifer Beckham, the speaker at my church’s annual women’s retreat says, “Offenses are chosen.” I agree. It really is our choice. No one can make us hurt or angry without our permission.

So, our challenge is to save our offenses for the big things. There are valid reasons for hurt and anger. But if it’s big enough to hold on to then it needs to be dealt with, not stuffed away to embitter us. A friend once told me, “Un-forgiveness is like taking poison and waiting for the other person to die.”

The small frustrations just aren’t worth our time or brain space. Crazy drivers, slow waitresses, or a sarcastic remark from that always-snarky coworker or family member. Respond kindly, if needed. Then, heed the words of Queen Elsa from the movie Frozen, “Let it go.”

Perhaps it’s difficult to let go because something in us is tweaked and we need to deal with an ugly truth we’re not willing to face. Like King David in Psalm 139:24, we pray,

“See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting.”

Maybe we’re not free because we don’t understand that a person’s attitude is their problem, their responsibility. It says more about them and their struggle than the issue at hand. Let’s not give an offense or the offender power over us anymore. We’re going to stop letting their sin hover over us like a vulture dumping yesterday’s roadkill.

“Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your stand! Never again let anyone put a harness of slavery on you.”*

Let’s filter offenses through rational thought. Hold up petty quarrels next to real struggle. Think of those grieving in Charleston, South Carolina and consider their grace and forgiveness. Pray for our military men and women who come home and continue to battle PTSD, physical injuries, and broken homes.

My friends, we can rise above the gloomy climate of our home, workplace, or our culture. Because it really is our choice.  It’s not always easy. But with God’s grace, it’s doable.

*Galatians 5:1

 

You may remember, when my grand-babies visit, our kitchen table becomes the center of all things crafty: crayons, glitter, stickers, you name it.

Braden, our budding paleontologist, is into drawing our family. Nine stick figures are personalized by height and hair while another stands out with a big circle drawn in her middle. That’s Aunt Violet whose expecting little Luna Sophia in July.

Before drawing his family portraits, Braden sticks out his tongue to help him concentrate and cuts the four corners off each piece of paper. I ask him why, to which he replies,

“Because I don’t need them.”

I love how this kid thinks. I guess he sees the corners as unnecessary and in his way.

So, what can we cut? What’s unnecessary and in the way?

Now I didn’t say who’s in the way. This isn’t a time to blame or complain. This is looking inside and getting real, stripping bare to see what needs to be cut off. It’s painful to be honest with ourselves. But it’s essential because what does self-deception produce? The same old stuff.

We justify our bad attitudes and give ourselves permission to continue in sin that stunts our growth and strains our relationship with God. Self-deception is absurd really, because we only hurt ourselves. We can justify anything. Then we get caught in the same loop, doing the same thing, expecting change.

And how about worry? Do we have any of that to cut away? Why do we do it? All it accomplishes is stress, sleepless nights, and a host of health issues. Jesus asks, “Can anyone of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?”*

Worry robs you of really living and can shorten your life. It creates dis-ease in mind, body, and spirit.

I’ve heard parents say, “But, it’s my job to worry.” No. It’s not. It’s our job to give our best and we can’t if we’re distracted by all the what-ifs. While there are things that are downright scary and should concern us, we don’t have to fret and wring our hands. We can open them and pray. Knowing and trusting God’s already way ahead of us, we can breathe in his presence and breathe out his peace.

Paul reminds us in Philippians 4:6-7, “Don’t worry about anything. Instead, pray about everything. Tell God your needs, and don’t forget to thank him for his answers. If you do this, you will experience God’s peace, which is far more wonderful than the human mind can understand. His peace will keep your thoughts and your hearts quiet and at rest as you trust in Christ Jesus.”

My friend, let’s remember Braden’s corners. May we cut off what’s unnecessary and in the way so God can create a work of art in us.

*Matthew 6:27

© Robin Melvin 2015

I’m sorry. But I gotta keep it real.

My brain won’t have it any other way. There’s a season in a woman’s life that may breeze in and out on a daisy-laden path. But today,  it’s slamming my mind and body with the chaos of a hurricane and the slow inside-out burn of a volcano.

I must warn my male friends – if you’re still here – to exit now or summon the courage to proceed on tiptoes. And I do apologize, because just when you think you understand women, we change again. It’s like trying to stabilize tectonic plates that shift under the power of the sun, moon, gravity, and all that bubbling lava in the earth’s core.

“The Change.”

That’s what my mom’s generation called it, if they mentioned it at all. What an ordinary word for a sometimes bizarre paradigm shift of body, mind and spirit. And here I am, in this holistic onslaught, hoping to tap out rational thoughts and readable text onto my laptop.

My mind is bouncing like a toddler-filled trampoline. It’s stretched tight, pummeled and pinging, clashing and screaming. Oh, and my palms and face? Rosy red. The receptors of my spontaneous combustion.

This season rushes in alongside another common change. Just when my grown kids are settling down with their families, I’m making decisions for my aging and stubborn, but lovable mom. It pains me to see her muddling through her own confusion, fear, and physical limitations. It’s beyond my control. I can’t fix it for her and that hurts.

A friend – a brave, Christian brother – reminded me that these parallel changes are no accident. They are in God’s timing and will for me. Therein, I find hope.

God is not random. He knows our every manic moment and he’s got us. He wants us to have peace. He wants us to grow in wisdom and faith even in overwhelming challenges of body, soul, and spirit.

But it’s not always easy, is it?

Any drastic life change, even a positive one – such as marriage, a household move, or a new job – can be frightening and disorienting. Some days it’s a raw choice, to reach beyond our feelings and trust that God is not only with us, but he’s working for us. Here’s encouragement from my reading this week:

 “When you pass through the waters,
I will be with you;
and when you pass through the rivers,
they will not sweep over you.
When you walk through the fire,
you will not be burned;
the flames will not set you ablaze.” Isaiah 43:2

If you’re troubled in mind, body, and spirit, please call out to God. He knows your name, he knows your voice, and he knows your struggle. Rest in him and then call a friend. We weren’t meant to do this alone.

Hope, grace and peace to you in your season of change.

 

Mokena mailboxes took a beating this winter. Many are dented, cracked and snapped in half while others stand untouched.

The funniest one is on Haas Road. Kudos to the creative folks who zip tied the box vertically to the side of the post. One on our cul-de-sac surrendered to the snowplows after leaning sideways, backward then forward as though pleading for winter to die. Another casualty of a cold season.

How about you? How are you this side of frozen? Broken, dented, barely hanging in there?

Maybe spring rolls in feeling more like a battle than winter’s reprieve. The chill hangs on, soul-deep. Maybe it’s the death of a dream, a marriage, or a family member.

I’ve learned that grief is an unwanted, unpredictable, yet unavoidable process. Stuffing it robs our emotional, spiritual, and physical health. The same is true if we let it consume our thoughts. It defines us, controls us, and can shackle us into a victim mindset.

After my baby girl’s death, I was angry at God and drank to numb my ache. That led to more regret – a soul-killing cycle of pain adding to pain. All those years, God wanted me to know He didn’t cause my anguish, but could use it to grow me so healing could shine through me.

That is our hope. Death becoming life.

Consider Gloria’s thoughts of her mother’s passing. “Death – though it will have its ugly moment – will itself die. [Jesus’] resurrection is our proof and our promise.”

Because He defeated death, there’s resurrection power available not only in eternity but here on earth – in each crisis, attitude and heartache. Believing this, we find power to overcome sin that sears our conscience and sadness that robs us of abundant life.

Remember, my friend, Jesus’ life and death doesn’t teach us freedom from sorrow, it teaches us freedom through sorrow. This liberates us from grief’s control and empowers us to comfort others.

You may not see an end to your dreary days but God does. He’s already there. Like a father waiting to catch his toddler, He’s kneeling down with arms wide open. We can walk head-on into our difficulties knowing He’s got us and we’ll be stronger on the other side.

Talk to Him about everything, big and small. One on one. Don’t stuff it. Cry, rant and scream if you must but please don’t lose hope. No matter how battered you feel or how far you’ve sunk, He doesn’t love you any less.

Into those cold, gray days spring will bloom. We may be a little dented but God breathes new life into us. May we allow Him to transform all that hinders us – our grief, our worry, our shame, all our ugly – into something beautiful. Trust His resurrection power, spring’s final battle with winter.

© Robin Melvin 2015