Category: God

Unpacking My Heart

My dreams this week have been unlike any I can remember. Like folders neatly stored in a box, they have come in simple succession. Each contained a small bit of history or a memory long forgotten, and each was very pleasant. I’ve dealt with recurring nightmares that contained trauma too difficult for daylight, but these mundane little memories were simple scenes that left me wondering what to make of them. God used a tapestry to remind me to enjoy each and not ponder hidden meanings.

I overthink, overlove, overeat, and overdo; so God’s message made me smile as I enjoyed the memories the dreams brought to the surface. There are many opinions when it comes to the meaning of our dreaming, but I agree with the notion they are meant to help us heal and move forward.

“In the 1980’s, Wallace Clift and Jean Dalby Clift took the work of Ann Faraday and further explored the relationship between images produced in dreams and the dreamer’s waking life. Their books identified patterns in dreaming, and ways of analyzing dreams to explore life changes, with particular emphasis on moving toward healing and wholeness.” (Wikipedia)

I’m not an expert when it comes to dream interpretation, but I have found great healing in dealing with recurring nightmares in the past, and I am finding sweet solace in the simple dreams of the past week. When I downsized before moving, I had to go through the painful process of letting go of things that were dear to me. It wasn’t an easy process, but the results have been amazing. I am moving forward, unencumbered and free.

I found healing and wholeness packing and unpacking all those boxes, and the simple dreams this week have unpacked my heart in the same manner. My sister, Ann, made a tapestry for me years ago that I have above my desk. It reads:

“We shared many secrets,

the same Mom and Dad.

We shared lots of good times.

Don’t think of the bad.

Our memories we’ll cherish

with love without end.

I’m glad you’re my Sister.

I’m glad you’re my Friend.”

When I woke wondering about the deeper meaning of the simple dreams, I saw the tapestry and smiled. I needed to remember the good times, the simple times, the everyday and ordinary times. My heart has been deeply hurt by bad times and and shared secrets, but it is by good times and shared memories. God’s lesson for me this morning was to unpack those memories and savor each one.

When I got to the bottom of my heart, I found love expressed in thousands of moments which came to the surface in simple dreams. It was nice to unpack each, smile, and remember to focus upon the good times instead of the bad. I’ve allowed nightmares to define me, but God sent a new image with a series of sweet, simple dreams that paint a much more accurate picture of my heart.

Unpacking My Heart

Back on Track

Running with a heavy overcoat isn’t the best way to travel; but I have a hard time laying aside encumbrances and staying untangled. Holy Week is always difficult, but the pain has been overwhelming this week. Christ’s passion is more than I can comprehend, and it breaks my heart to think of His suffering. Hebrews 12:1-3 helped me change my focus and get my heart back on track.

“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.” (NASB)

I was lost in the weariness of the world this week, but God put these scriptures in the path to remind me to lighten my load and run the race He has set before me. Christ saw the joy set before Him, and knowing that joy allowed Him to endure the cross, despise the shame, endure the hostility, and end up at the right hand of His Father. He did it all so I could share that joy with Him.

I cannot run the race Christ ran, and thinking I have to is what makes Holy Week weigh me down each year. I can, however, run the race specifically designed for my heart by One who knows me better than I know myself. No one is able to run my race for me, but sharing the joy and pain found on my journey humbles and fills my heart with wonder. That was a powerful part of the learning this week. If I try to run Christ’s race, carry His load, or carry my burdens alone, I will quickly become entangled and encumbered. I came to a place of quitting this week, but God bid me to get up, keep going, and trust Him.

Good Friday is the perfect day to fix my eyes on Jesus. He is, and always will be the author and perfecter of faith. If I keep my focus upon Him, I will find the love, joy, and peace I was missing this week. Encumbrances will continue to entangle as long as I am in this world, but I can keep my balance and run the race with endurance if I remember I am never alone.

Walking Together

Sorted Past

The most difficult part of downsizing is sorting and deciding what to keep and what to do with what I don’t. The process has been a painful one in many ways, but it has also been a very freeing one. Starting is the most difficult part of any process, so God gave me a three-week window in which to work. While the girls were away, I had the freedom to work through my past as I packed. I needed time to remember, sort, and let God help me pack for my move.

As I’ve packed, the smallest objects have triggered my biggest memories and led me down the path to my past. I’ve downsized several times in the last thirteen years, but I’ve never had a move like this before. I’ve gotten rid of things I didn’t want or need before, but I’m giving away things I love and didn’t imagine I could ever leave behind this time. My heart grew along with the piles that formed as I sorted my past with my present and future in mind.

Technology helps immensely, and that’s been a big lesson in my moving forward. Simplifying became my mantra, so I made the decision to move into the 21st century in regard  to music, movies, books, and photos. That was not an easy decision for me, but it was one that opened up a great deal of space. While the kids were away, I uploaded over six hundred photos so I didn’t have to decide which ones to hang on the walls of my new apartment. I plan to display them all on my television screen. I gave my CD’s, DVD’s, and both players to the girls because I don’t plan to use them anymore.

The most beautiful side effect of sorting is seeing the joy others find in my treasures. That has been especially true with my books. The museum in town was happy to get my old books, and several wonderful young teachers are treasuring my old classroom treasures. I was deeply touched when I listened to one of them telling me how much she loved going through the student writing I gave her. My students loved to read each other’s work and the writing of their parents. Now, her students will be able to read the work of their parents and their grandparents. That makes my heart happy!!

I don’t have a sordid past, but with God’s help, I do have a sorted past. That has been the beautiful blessing of the Lenten season this year. I go into Lent with an agenda, but God always has a different plan in mind for my heart. I usually go with mine and suffer through the season; but occasionally, I let go of my plans, go with God’s, and find the transformation He has in mind for me.

Sorting my past has made this move amazing. I finally understand that purging must come before packing, and that’s lightened my load in an amazing way. There’s nothing sweeter than the peace that comes from knowing I am moving in the right direction without my old baggage, and knowing my treasures are in good hands. I know that with all of my heart this morning 🙂

Baggage

 

The Elephant in the Room

Moving into a new place is exhilarating and exhausting. The exhilaration comes when I do what I can; the exhaustion comes when I try to do what I cannot. I was completely spent by the time my living room furniture arrived at eight last night. Sidewalks go in today, and it will take two days for them to settle and dry. I was determined to get my furniture in the apartment before the work started.

The lady at the furniture store told me the furniture would be delivered between three and six. My discomfort began at four and reached panic stage at six. I called the store and was assured the furniture was on its way.

I only live a few minutes away from my new apartment, so I kept moving what I could until they arrived. I got a call around seven from a worried young man. He apologized and told me the truck had given him trouble all day. I could tell he was upset, so I told him I was fine and not to worry. He assured me I would have my furniture before eight. I relaxed knowing help was on the way and grabbed another load from the house.

I allowed worry to invade my space. Like an elephant in the room, it overshadowed everything else and spoiled what should have been a beautiful day of moving. I went outside to look for the truck because I was concerned about the unfinished drive and the coming darkness.

The sweet town I love was lighting up, so I stopped to watch. I knew I would love the night lights, but I was shocked when I looked up and saw the mountains in the distance. My new views were as beautiful as the ones on the mountain. I looked up at God, shook my head, and thanked Him for wowing me, once again. He smiled back and reminded me that He was God after all. I tend to forget that when I get caught up in my plans.

Frustration came from trying to move the elephant in the room without any help. I hate to ask for help. I want to do everything by myself and everything for everyone else. It’s no wonder I wind up winded and worrying! The only good thing about frustration and exhaustion is the sweet sigh of release that comes when I know I can do no more. I was right there when I noticed a big, white delivery truck passing by my drive. The good news is that there is a wonderfully paved parking area for state cars next to my apartment. I waved at the young man driving, and told him to stay right where he was. It would be much easier to unload from there.

The direction I think is best is not always the best one to take. God knew the right driveway for the two young men who emerged from the truck expecting a tongue lashing after a very long day. We all laughed when I told them God knew the way better than I did. They put blankets on the ground leading to my porch and proceeded to cover anything that might be marred by their moving with more blankets. I marveled at their manners and their methods.

The young man driving was a lanky country boy with big blue eyes and a soft southern drawl. The man helping him was short, stocky, and spoke with a heavy Mexican accent. He looked concerned about my placement of the love seat and said, “What about there?”

I looked where he was pointing and said, “That’s perfect if it will fit!! Do you mind to move it again?”

He smiled broadly and said, “Not at all!!”

I enjoyed talking with the young men about their long, difficult day and realized they could move what I could not, but even they could not move a truck that didn’t want to be moved. We all need help when it comes to elephants, and we all have different ones to move.

As I was drifting off to sleep, God reminded me that He would take care of the elephants if I would get out of His way and let Him do what only He can do. I’ve been trying to figure out how to move an elephant since mama died, and it has worn my heart completely out. God, and two very sweet young men, reminded me to leave the heavy moving to someone else. Help is always there, and there’s hope in that help! I can spend a lifetime trying to move an elephant, learn to live with it, or let God transform my heart by moving it for me.

© Copyright 2010 CorbisCorporation

From Stagnant to Still

Stagnant Water

You know the feeling you get when you want something and just can’t figure out what it is? I had it and hated it yesterday. A sense of longing filled me, and I couldn’t focus on anything except figuring out what I wanted. It took all day and most of the night for me to realize stagnancy had replaced my stillness.

I graze when I’m empty, and that causes overfilling and under satisfaction. My exercise routine has been disrupted by the weather, and munching has caused me to slowly settle into a stagnant state. The trouble with settling is getting back into action. I needed rest this winter, but my body at rest has tended to stay at rest. I needed was an external force to get me going, and I knew One Who could do just that.

I had an English teacher in high school who loved the old Latin proverb “Still waters run deep.” She said it frequently, and I often wondered if she was trying to get me to be quiet. I was a bit of a babbling brook in high school and still am in uncomfortable situations. I understand babbling, but stagnancy was beginning to stink. My heart longed for the deep movement of still waters, so I went to the Source of Living Water and asked for help.

The difficult lesson in lethargy is that the longer I stay stagnant, the greater the force necessary to get me going. God made it clear in the wee hours this morning that the power that raised Christ from the grave is in my own heart. There is no greater power in existence, but God will not force His power upon me. I must come to Him. In the coming, I see how far I’ve wandered. I have to travel the road that took me off course in the first place. As I backtrack my way, I find the humility to go His way.

Stillness is a constant movement that draws me closer to God, to myself, and to those around me. Rushing leads to babbling, and that takes me further downstream. Settling brings stagnancy, and that’s the worst state of all. I’m hoping the image of a stinky stagnant pond will keep me from wandering and help me move toward His still, deep waters because my heart will never be satisfied with anything less.

The beauty of still waters is that they reflect whatever they are facing. David paints a beautiful image of such water in Psalm 23:1-3

 “God, my shepherd!
    I don’t need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
    you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
    you let me catch my breath
    and send me in the right direction.” (The Message)

I love this interpretation because it describes my own heart. God gave me drink from His quiet pool, let me catch my breath, and put me back on the right path this morning. I love it when He does that!

 

Still Waters

Morning Moon

The full moon put on a beautiful show this morning. I’ve always been fascinated by its reflected light, especially in the morning. Most prefer to watch the moon at night, but I’m a morning moon person. I live on top of a mountain, so the sun rises in front of the house and sets in the back. My bedroom faces the west, so I get spectacular sunsets most days. I love to sit and watch the sun go through her nightly ritual and don’t like it when she closes the clouds in front of her. Sunsets are fast, and I miss many because I’m not paying attention. The moon takes its time, and I love that about moon sets in the morning.

When the moon is full, its light wakes me early. It’s like the little girls when they come running down the hallway for breakfast. They have been gone for a week, and I’m missing our sweet morning ritual. I’ve had a different routine this week; I’ve enjoyed having coffee and watching the full moon fade into the horizon. I love the views from my bedroom; a dear friend calls it my window to the world. I so needed this time on the mountaintop, and I wouldn’t give anything for the two years I’ve spent with my son and his family. I will have a very different view from my new home in town, but I’m looking forward to watching the town awake.

I love people, and I love Bryson City. God brought me to these mountains in 1970 to attend college, and I never went home. I’m sure my grandfather would say I came home. My father argued with me when I decided to live in the mountains. He said, “I worked my ass off to get out of those mountains, and you moved right back up there. What does that say??”

I smiled and said, “That one of us has some sense.” He had to grin because he did love the mountains of his childhood. He was worried about making money and getting away from what he saw as backwardness. Mama embraced the mountain ways and knew what every plant in the woods could cure. She missed the closeness of the mountains and longed for them her whole life. Like her, I can’t wait to get back to mountains when I am exposed in the flatlands for a while. They surround me like a warm hug and make me feel protected.

I believe we all have a place that speaks to our hearts. The mountains speak to mine in a powerful way, and that has never been more true that during the past week as I’ve had time to stop and sit and stare. God shows up in those quiet moments, and I know I am exactly where I am meant to be. Daddy understood. The city called out to him in the same way, and he never regretted listening to its call.

The moon takes a long time to let go in the mornings, and it becomes more beautiful as it pales. It is sitting in the distance reminding me that it will be back in the morning. I’ll be waiting with the wide-eyed wonder of a child and a cup of great coffee.

Moon Set

God Smiled With Me

I asked a master carver how he created a life-like bear from a lifeless piece of wood. He smiled and said, “I simply cut away everything that isn’t a bear.” God reminded me of that conversation as He chipped away this week. The process was painful, but the peace that came was well worth it.

God’s Word cut deeply, leaving me exposed, vulnerable, and ready to soak in the love He poured over me. I wonder what a carver would do if the wood questioned and fretted while he worked.  I think he might just toss it into the fire. I can just imagine a piece of walnut saying, “Are you sure you know what you’re doing? You’re not getting rid of that, are you??” I squirmed, cried, questioned, and yelled at God the whole time He carved.

If God were the Smiter I continue to imagine Him to be, I would have ended up in a pitiful pile of dust on the floor. Like a master carver, God sees what I cannot. He sees love when I see failure. He sees love when I see imperfection. He sees me, and He will let me see me if I allow Him to get rid of all that isn’t what He wants for me. At the peak of my struggle yesterday, I caught a glimpse of myself in His Son’s precious love. I relaxed into the image and let His love wash over me.

I have amazing sisters and friends who have always seen the image I saw yesterday. I have become very adept at looking away or making jokes or excuses when those I love try to get me to see myself as they do, but I opened my eyes and my heart to God yesterday. I saw what He, and they, have always seen. I smiled, and God smiled with me.

Gigi at 62

Like Ruby Slippers

As I prayed last night, God showed me that I have always had the power to change the direction of my heart. Like Dorothy’s ruby slippers, my heart will take me home. I’ve wandered down many yellow brick roads searching for something I had all along. It boils down to trust, and I didn’t trust my heart. Neither did Dorothy. She wandered in Oz when she could have been home with those she loved. I’ve done the same.

God reminded me that I didn’t trust Him or His promises. He didn’t put on a fancy show or perform magic tricks like the Wizard. He did something much more spectacular. He waited while I wandered, and never stopped loving me. He knew I would eventually find the truth that would transform my heart and bring me home.

I’ve been the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, and the Lion on this journey, but I think Dorothy best exemplifies my search for love. When she looked down at those ruby slippers, she knew what she wanted. When I looked into my heart and saw the beautiful truth that had always been there, I knew the same.

Oz didn’t give Dorothy or her friends anything they didn’t already have. He simply saw in them what they could not see in themselves. That is the transforming power of  love. When I feel it and know it is within my own heart, my journey changes in a powerful way. I can go home. I can love and be loved as I never imagined, and I can be who God created me to be. That’s as transforming as it gets.

There's No Place Like Home
There’s No Place Like Home

 

Compasses or Covenants?

The road to God is clearly marked; the directions are charted in His covenants. I have been misdirected and rejected more times than I can count, and I continue to veer off the path. Daddy scolded me for taking a round about path to a neighbor’s house. I was very little and told him, in a serious tone, “I went way wound.” He laughed out loud and shook his head. I’m sure God can relate to daddy’s frustration because He’s been watching me take the long way around for a very long time!

God knows I prefer a circuitous path have a penchant for dead ends, but He never fails to correct my misdirection. He’s there with His loving hand held out when I find myself lost or at a dead end. His love has never failed to point me in the right direction, but I have failed, on many occasions, to follow His directions.

“God is fair and just;
He corrects the misdirected,
Sends them in the right direction.

He gives the rejects his hand,
And leads them step-by-step.

From now on every road you travel
Will take you to God.
Follow the Covenant signs;
Read the charted directions.” (Psalm 25:8-10 NLT)

Lent is a time to check my direction to make sure the road I’m on is a road that will take me to God. Even though He will always be there to lead and correct, there comes a time when I need to follow the Covenant signs and read the charted directions. I can’t do that as long as I continue to go my own way.

Covenant signs chart the course for life. If I use anything else for direction, I will be lost. I’m very good at finding my way, but my way isn’t where I want to go anymore. Realizing my way isn’t the way is the first step in finding His way. It’s scary to let go of my compass, but I will never get on the road that takes me to God until I do. Only God’s Covenants are able to do that. I plan to look at each one more carefully in the coming weeks and see where they point my heart.

Photo Credit: psta Travel Directions
Photo Credit: psta Travel Directions

Shattered Heart

Going through the motions doesn’t please you,
    a flawless performance is nothing to you.
I learned God-worship
    when my pride was shattered.
Heart-shattered lives ready for love
    don’t for a moment escape God’s notice. (Psalm 51:16-17 MSG)

I love Eugene Peterson’s translation of verse seventeen because I truly believe that a heart must be shattered before a life is ready for love. A heart-shattered life can no longer go through the motions, and God’s notice is captured in such a life.

A shattered heart cannot simply be pulled together. Appearance doesn’t matter to one looking at a heart in pieces. My heart has been shattered and scattered many times, and I’ve vainly tried to put together that which only God can repair. He knows that going through the motions won’t help a shattered heart, and that’s why He isn’t pleased. He wants whole hearts for His children, and He knows pride must also be shattered before He can begin the work only He can do.

Psalm 51 has long been a favorite of mine, and I turn to it when I am hurting. David’s heart was shattered, and his pride was in pieces on the ground when he wrote this beautiful song. God heard his plea, and he hears mine when I come to a place of repentance and confession. The world provides easy answers for shattered hearts and provides many ways to go through the motions, but God will not give even a flawless performance His attention.

God is struck by a heart-shattered life that is ready to love. His repairs that which is irreparable, and that changes everything. The world says sweep the pieces under the rug and don’t make that mistake again. It also says to get even. God says give me those precious pieces to Me and let My Son’s perfect love give you a fresh start and a new heart.

Photo Credit: Hive Resources
Photo Credit: Hive Resources