Category: Healing

A Heart Lift

Photo from baileypottery.com
Photo from baileypottery.com

In the hands of an expert potter, wet clay is molded into a beautiful open vessel. In God’s loving hands, my heart is pushed, squeezed, and pulled upward in the same manner. When the pot isn’t what the potter wants, He throws it back onto the wheel, applies water, and starts over. God has stretched, squeezed, pushed, and pulled my heart as never before this month. He’s caught all of my tears and applied them to my heart in order to get it ready for His loving hands. I’ve been digging my own cisterns instead of depending upon His living water, and those cisterns were as dry as they have ever been this week. God used Jeremiah’s vivid images of pottery, cisterns, and fountains to teach important lessons in faith, peace, love, and hope. God’s Word may tear down, pluck up, and destroy my heart, but God builds it back in a beautiful way bringing me ever closer to His love, His Son’s grace, and His sweet Spirit’s peace. God’s molding leaves my heart, like the potter’s vessel, open and ready to be filled from His life-giving fount. God is love, and love changes everything. Knowing I’m loved gives me the courage to be still and let God have His way with my heart and show me the peace He has planned for my path. The heart lift that results will be worth all the squeezing, pulling, and pushing.

Fountains & Cisterns

Forsaking a filled and flowing fountain for an empty cracked cistern sounds ridiculous, but that’s just what Israel is doing according to Jeremiah 2:13. It is what all of us do at some point in our lives. No matter how big or beautiful the cisterns I dig for myself, they will never hold water or compare to the living water Christ’s love provides.  Jeremiah 2 is referred to as “Judah’s Apostasy.” Apostasy is the renunciation of a religious faith or an abandonment of a previous loyalty, and digging my own cistern amounts to doing just that.

“For My people have committed two evils:
They have forsaken Me,
The fountain of living waters,
To hew for themselves cisterns,
Broken cisterns
That can hold no water.” NASB

Loyalty becomes tricky when a conflict occurs. That’s true in day-to-day life, and it’s true in my relationship with God. Faith in God provides that beautiful flowing fountain that never runs dry. Faith in my own ability or in anything other than God leads to a cracked cistern and a very dry soul. Only God can satisfy my thirsty soul. In verse 12, Jeremiah relays God’s heart, “‘Be appalled, O heavens, at this, And shudder, be very desolate,’ declares the Lord.” 

Appalled and desolate are words that aptly describe the situation in which Israel finds itself, and they also describe the personal idolatry that results when I dig my own cistern.  Digging cisterns is a natural reaction when I think I know what’s best for me. I love Jeremiah’s imagery, but his message is always one that tears the very core of my heart. This week’s scripture hit particularly hard, but his image of living water offers tremendous healing. God lets me continue digging cisterns as I try to find a way to get my way, but He prefers that I stop digging and drink from His fountain. The choice is mine because even the sweetest water would not satisfy if forced down my throat. It is only in the dryness of my broken cistern that I find a thirst for God that nothing else will satisfy. He knows I have to dig a few cisterns before I can appreciate His fountain. There is great peace in realizing I can put down my shovel and relax.

Broken Cistern

Living Water

Rain + Sunshine = A Beautiful Sunset

As I watched the sunset last night, I was taken aback by the changes occurring right before my eyes.  I took several photos but they were not even a glimpse of the glory unfolding as I watched with a wonder that allowed me to see God’s love in the moment. His love is always present, but sometimes, it unfolds like a sunset after a rainy day. His love is never the same, never what I expect, but always just what I need. The tragic death of an eleven-year-old girl in our community reminded me this morning that lives, like sunsets, are subject to change at any given moment.

Like a sunset, clouds create a more profound beauty than a clear horizon. The sun interacts with the moisture in the clouds just as God’s love interacts with the tears of His beloved children. Without the tears, life would be a series of sunrises and sunsets that all looked alike.  I thank God for the clouds and the tears because they create a delicate beauty that can never be replicated or captured. Suffering creates a beauty in a wounded heart that cannot be described, only shared with another wounded heart. There are never words to adequately describe the pain of suffering or the joy of healing, but Psalm 30:5 gives the reassurance I need when clouds come into my life. “Weeping may last for the night, But a shout of joy comes in the morning.” NASB The old saying about a red sky at night being a sailor’s delight also applies to my heart. When the storm clouds leave, the evening sky comes to life. God clears away the heaviness and brings a deeper joy than I can imagine to my heart if I wait upon Him. Just as I could not capture the beauty of the sunset last night, I cannot describe the joy that comes when my broken heart finds healing.

Life can change for the good or in a tragic way at any given moment, and that makes me look at life in a new light. The glass doors and windows of my bedroom open out to a western horizon that takes my breath away with sunsets that set the sky on fire. Yesterday, as I was driving home, I noticed a house that had closed blinds on all the windows. I wondered how anyone could live shut up in such a house, and then I remembered that I shut my heart off the very same way for much of my life. My curtains and my heart are open now, but the breathtaking views from my room go unnoticed when I’m too busy to stop, and love slips away if I don’t have time to connect as God desires.  Hearts and windows must to be open to the sunshine and the rain if I want to see sunsets that come when the two come together. It is truly a glimpse of what is yet to come.

Sunshine + Rain = Amazing Sunset

Happy First Anniversary to Me :)

Happy first anniversary of blogging to me! The year has been filled to the brim with lessons that have taken me out of my comfort zone and pushed me beyond what I thought possible. I marvel at how God has taken my desire to share my journey with my sweet grandbabies and turned it into something so much more. In my thirty-three years of teaching, I was constantly telling my students to write about their lives because no one else could write their autobiographies. I journaled my pain, but I never found the courage to write my own story until a dear friend encouraged me to write for Lillyann. Audience makes all the difference when it comes to writing, and I was suddenly motivated to tell the truth with love so she, and now Mylah, could hear Gigi’s heart.

Life and love are about hearing one another’s heart, and that has been the biggest lesson I’ve learned as I’ve brought my story into the open. It’s a lot like taking off my clothes in front of a large group of people, and I almost didn’t do it. I put it off until God made it clear that I needed it even more than my little granddaughters. Telling my story has opened my heart in a way that I could never have imagined a year ago. I thought it would be easy to blog about my life, but that has not been the case at all. For those of you who write and share your stories, you know exactly what I mean. Writing takes a toll on the heart, and I’ve always known that. In my classroom, I had photos of famous authors all around the room. I thought it was important for my students to see the face of the person who wrote the literature we were reading.

One day, a middle school student asked me very seriously if all the authors on the wall had sad life stories. I was cautious how I answered that question because I wanted my students to be encouraged to write, but I also wanted to be honest. I told him that many of the authors did have tragic lives; I saw a teachable moment and knew I needed to be honest. I love middle school students because they are so very real and know the pain that brings into their own lives. I told my students that writing takes a willingness to let others see your pain and feel your hurt, and that takes a toll on the heart and the soul. It isn’t for the weak and takes more courage than anything else in this world. I didn’t tell them that was why I avoided real writing like the plague. I wasn’t ready to reveal that much to them. I wish I could have been a better example in that regard.

They understood as only middle schoolers can, and I’m sure many of them saw my own cowardice. They didn’t call me on it, so that means they either didn’t notice my fear or they understood and respected it. I do remember wishing I was as brave as those faces looking down from the wall that day. I have thought about that question many times and find great irony in the fact that I taught writing yet didn’t write. I see now that my passion came from the fact that I could not do what I so wanted them to be able to do. Like a prisoner pleading for those on the outside to enjoy the open air, I was pleading with them to do what I could not bring myself to do. I was fifty-seven before I found the courage to write as I knew I should and fifty-nine before I found the courage to share my writing with others. I would say late is better than never, but I know timing is much more complicated than that.

I know the importance of readiness when it comes to learning, and the teacher in me knows that my heart wasn’t ready to write or admit that I couldn’t in that classroom long ago. God used my passionate desire to write to encourage my students to write. He really does make all things work together for good. He was writing His story on my heart all along, but I wasn’t ready to hear it. The most difficult critic to get past when writing is self, and I imagine that’s true for all writers. A year ago today, I struggled with sending my first post. I know I read it a hundred times and cried almost as many times before finding the courage to take my clothes off in front of the world and say here I am. I smile when I read that now because my heart has truly come home, and I love myself in a way I never believed possible. I marvel at how God works, and I thank Him and all who have given me the courage to open my heart and be who He created me to be.

Here’s my first post. Lessons in Love

Lessons in Love
Lessons in Love

Bringing My Heart Home

In his commentary on Jeremiah, Walter Brueggemann says, “We become like the god we serve. Pursue a bubble and become a bubble.The object of love determines the quality of love.” My study of Jeremiah over the past two weeks has been a challenge. Jeremiah has a way with words, and his poetry always touches my heart very deeply. However, his message from God is not an easy one to swallow. All prophets must struggle with the temptation to say people want to hear, but there is another word for those who do that. Prophets and harlots have very different agendas. Harlotry is easier in the short term, but prophets who speak the truth with love have a sweet closeness to God that is far better than anything this world has to offer. Jeremiah knew the cost of proclaiming the truth, and God’s messengers know it today.

The past three days have been powerful ones for me as I’ve been given the rare gift of seeing a glimpse of my nineteen-year-old self through the eyes of a dear friend. Forty-two years ago, I went on a camping trip with a very special friend. It was a time of connection that brought us closer to God, and it was wonderful to get to relive that time. He wrote a book based on conversations we had that weekend and shared it with me this week. As we talked about the book today, I was deeply touched the healing our honest communion brought both then and now. Sharing the truth with love changes the one telling the story as well as the one hearing it.

Jeremiah knew the importance of sharing Gods truth with love. He was given a difficult message to pass along. Those words were for the people of Israel thousands of years ago, and they are for me today.

“Behold, I have put My words in your mouth. See, I have appointed you this day over the nations and over the kingdoms,
to pluck up and to break down to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.” Jeremiah 1:10 NASB

It’s been a month of dying to self and having my very foundation pulled out from under me. The razing prepared my heart for the building and planting God has in mind. God put loving friends right where I needed them, right when I needed them. He always does, but I don’t always notice. I hope to become more aware of all He has at every turn and pray I never lose my sense of awe when it comes to His glory.

I was reminded this week that childlike faith is to be cherished, and I also learned to love who I have been, am, and will continue to be under God’s loving care. I am grateful for those willing to love honestly and share the path in a way that gives me the courage to share my own story. When I find the courage to tell the truth with love, I find God in that telling. It changes me and those with whom I share the path. The lessons this week have been very difficult, but I love the way God brought them home to my heart. In fact, those lessons brought my heart home in a beautiful way. It’s His and always has been, and I know He has wonderful plans in store as He continues to “pluck up, break down, destroy, and overthrow” so He can “build and plant” what He has in mind. 

The sunset this evening was just God showing off, and I absolutely love it when He does that!!

Bringing My Heart Home

Tagging Along or Out in Front?

In “My Utmost for His Highest,” Oswald Chambers gives a beautiful description of the new life that comes from the rebirth Christ promises. “The new life manifests itself in conscious repentance and unconscious holiness.” Jesus tells Nicodemus, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.” (John 3:3 NASB)

 The biggest misconception when it comes to Christianity is that rebirth happens automatically. Nothing could be further from the truth. I did not choose to be born the first time around, but rebirth requires a conscious decision on my part. Repentance that leads to rebirth requires obedience that causes me to die to self so I can see God in a new light. Just as a baby coming through the birth canal is blinded by the light of this world, my heart is also overwhelmed by the light of God’s kingdom during the process of rebirth.

In God’s kingdom, He is more than a father, protector, guide, and teacher. He is the Ruler He has been, is, and always will be. Seeing God in the light of His kingdom changes the way I see myself and His world. Without rebirth, I simply bid God to join me on my journey instead of being led on His. There is a world of difference, and entering His kingdom makes that crystal clear. He will never leave me alone, but He will not tag along after me. I found myself lost, alone, and at the end of my hope when I realized the path I was traveling was quickly unraveling toward me. Sometimes a new direction isn’t an option; such was the case with my heart.

While God will not tag along behind me, He has been, is, and always will be present on my journey. When I die to self, I’m ready to be led. He lifted me off the unraveling path I was traveling and set me down in the woods where we had a very special connection long ago. It was a time of beautiful rebirth, and I was nineteen once again. Trips down the birth canal are always traumatic because they take me from the familiar into the unknown. It is a fearful trip, but hearing mama’s voice at the other end calmed and soothed my frightened heart the first time. I remember vividly how Tyler’s crying stopped the moment he heard my voice. God’s comforting voice at the end of that rebirth canal had the same effect upon me.

I’m not sure what God has in mind for the next leg of this incredible journey, but I do know Who will be out front and who will be tagging along as we travel.

A Walk in the Woods

A Beautiful Thing!

As I was eating gelato with friends yesterday, I said very seriously, “Toasted pistachios are a beautiful thing!!” We all laughed out loud, and I’m sure those walking by must have thought we were a little nutty 🙂 I looked at the ladies surrounding me and realized friendship is a beautiful thing. I am blessed with more than my share of dear friends, and I pray I never take any of them for granted. I also have three amazing sisters who are my dearest and oldest friends. God manifests His love in the laughter and tears of friends who share my path.

I had lunch on the river today with my dear friend Robbie. As we shared gelato afterward, I told her I felt nineteen again. I explained that God took my heart back to a time of innocence that renewed my faith and reminded me that I am still who I was at nineteen and always will be. It may seem an odd analogy, but I feel as though God picked me right up off the path and put me back down right before the intersection where I took a terrible turn away from Him.

I’m very thankful for the lessons I’ve learned over the past four decades, and I’m thankful for the lessons this week that reminded me that friends who hear my heart and love me with an honest openness are as good as it gets. My path has been overflowing this week. The connections and reconnections God placed in my path were just what my wounded heart needed. There is nothing better than having friends who share the pain and the joy of the journey. It is a beautiful thing indeed!

With Robbie on the River

On to the Field!

The lessons of the past two weeks have hit hard and touched my heart deeply. The image of an open field this morning didn’t surprise me given the nature of those lessons. God has used images of cages and fields many times over the past few years in His lessons dealing with love, but He’s never used them together until this morning.

On Monday, God took me back to a time when my heart was as open as it has ever been in my life. I spent three beautiful days camping in the woods with a dear friend. Open fields and beautiful woods created the perfect environment for honest communion that freed my spirit. It was a time of simply being honest in a place of complete openness. In the exposure, there was no place for my heart to hide. Like Adam and Eve in the garden, God was present in a very intimate way.

I told my friend that I felt like a caged animal set free for a weekend. Hearts belong in open fields, but I returned to my cage immediately after that beautiful weekend afraid to venture back on to the field. On Monday, memories of that weekend flooded my heart in a very healing way. Cages have taken many forms over the years, but my fear of venturing on to the field has remained firm. I love “Sympathy” by Paul Lawrence Dunbar and can connect to the image of a caged bird. Singing and cages come in many forms.

     I know what the caged bird feels, alas! 
        When the sun is bright on the upland slopes; 
    When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass, 
    And the river flows like a stream of glass; 
        When the first bird sings and the first bud opes, 
    And the faint perfume from its chalice steals — 
    I know what the caged bird feels!

    I know why the caged bird beats his wing 
        Till its blood is red on the cruel bars; 
    For he must fly back to his perch and cling 
    When he fain would be on the bough a-swing; 
        And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars 
    And they pulse again with a keener sting — 
    I know why he beats his wing!

    I know why the caged bird sings, ah me, 
        When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,— 
    When he beats his bars and he would be free; 
    It is not a carol of joy or glee, 
        But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core, 
    But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings — 
    I know why the caged bird sings!

Maya Angelou’s autobiography “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings” also strikes a familiar chord in my heart. Attempts to leave the cages in which I’ve found myself have left me bruised and sore but never completely free. God put a special time of openness into my path forty-two years ago, and He brought back those memories in a vivid way this week. I haven’t had the faith to venture into His openness until this morning as I walked with a dear friend. Instead of the woods, Rita wanted to walk around the football field. I always marvel at the way God orchestrates my learning, but He undid me today. The openness of the football field was the perfect backdrop for His lessons in love that caught me totally off guard. The players would say I was blindsided:)

Love is an open field, and I’ve always known that. My heart yearns for openness and pleas for freedom, but my body and mind continue to confine and control. I remember a time when I was free to be who God created me to be. My heart has been beating its wings against bars for forty-two years. God reminded me, yet again, that I am the one who continues to shut and lock doors. Faith is the key that opens those doors. God is waiting for me to find faith that will allow my heart to come out of the cage and head out on to the field.  I know God will provide all my heart needs and more if I will only trust Him. I am eternally grateful for loving friends who gently nudge me on to the field and cheer enthusiastically for me.

Like many of my friends and family, Rita worries about my love life. She relayed stories about friends finding love late in life this morning as we walked. When we finished walking, she looked at me with a big grin and said in her beautiful Boston accent, “You need to start playing the field!” Right on cue, the football team came out of the fieldhouse wearing broad grins and dressed out in maroon and white. I had to smile and marvel as God used a group of dedicated Maroon Devils to teach an important lesson on the importance of getting out of the cage and on to the field.

On the Field

Lust, Love, and m&m’s

God broke the sugar coating right off of my heart this week and used a very sweet image to teach an important lesson in love. I have the tendency to allow my heart, as Langston Hughes would say, to “crust over like a syrupy sweet” in order to protect it from the pain that accompanies love. God’s love cracked that colorful coating into a thousand pieces last week in order to show me the deep rich love I was about to miss. Forest Mars and Bruce Murrie found that a candy coating would keep their sweet chocolate from melting in my hand before it melted in my mouth. I learned the same about my heart long ago.

I wasn’t expecting the image God brought early this morning. In fact, I already had my own image and my own beautiful thoughts. I am learning to let go of mine and go with His. Lust is a colorful candy coating that covers love if I let it. I’m afraid I’ve done just that for a very long time. If I settle for lust’s candy coating, I miss the rich love God has in mind for me. I can’t imagine putting m&m’s in a jar and looking at them or licking off the coating and throwing the chocolate away, but I came very close to doing just that last week.

God knows the way I love, and He always knows exactly what my heart needs. I marvel at how He used a little piece of candy to teach a lesson I will not soon forget. Each time I eat one of those sweet little treats, I plan to smile and thank God for the deep rich love that is more than I could ever imagine on my own and far better than the thin colorful coating that covers it.

Love, Lust, and m&m's

The End of My Hope

I got to the end of my hope yesterday and was feeling sorry for myself because it became clear in my heart that God wasn’t going to give me what I wanted. He quickly brought me back to my senses by gently reminding me that what He has provided, is providing, and will continue to provide is what’s best for me. God is love and knows me better than I know myself, but I continue to hang on to my hope. I suppose it’s human nature to want what I want, and I’m sure I’m not the only one who sings the same song over and over again in hopes that God will change His mind and come over to my way of thinking.

I’ve always loved the expression, “When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on,” so when I got to the end of my hope, I tied a knot in my heart, and held on for dear life. It’s easy to spot someone who’s at the end of their hope because they are always trying to convince everyone they are right. I’ve been trying to convince God and myself that what I want is best, but neither of us is buying it. The trouble with hanging on to an actual rope is that my arms wear out very quickly because they are in an awkward and unnatural position. The same is true for my heart when I stubbornly hold on to my hope. It ties my heart in knots and leaves me hanging hopelessly between what I want and what God has for me.

God placed Psalm 96:1-6 in my path to help me see my heart’s need for a new song. I have always loved the beautiful song, and it helped me let go of my hope and fall into God’s loving arms. It was healing to feel the knots in my heart slowly come undone and relax in His Hope. God’s Hope is in His Son’s precious love, and there is no holding on involved with it. I simply have to let go and let Christ do the holding.

I’ve always been one to think I had to do and carry or fix and fuse when it comes to love. God showed me with His sweet psalm that my heart is designed to sing to Him. When I do that, my hope is an unraveling rope allowing my heart to let go and lift up a new song of thanksgiving and praise. I’ve never held on to a real rope for more than a few minutes, but I vividly remember climbing a rope in high school P.E. class. It was the worst ten minutes of my young life. My heart had been holding on much longer and hurt far worse than my arms did when climbing that big rope up to the gym ceiling.

I suppose it’s appropriate that I climbed that rope in gym class back in the sixties and my heart finally let go of my hope in my sixties. I remember the sweet relief when I finally passed the rope test in P.E. I wanted to shout and sing and dance with joy! I suppose that was the point of the rope test I dreaded for an entire year before actually passing it. I felt a thousand times more relieved when I decided to let go of my hope and let God’s love untie the knots in my heart. It made me want to dance and sing a new song!

“Sing to the Lord a new song;
Sing to the Lord, all the earth.
Sing to the Lord, bless His name;
Proclaim good tidings of His salvation from day to day.
Tell of His glory among the nations,
His wonderful deeds among all the peoples.
For great is the Lord and greatly to be praised;
He is to be feared above all gods.
For all the gods of the peoples are idols,
But the Lord made the heavens.
Splendor and majesty are before Him,
Strength and beauty are in His sanctuary.” Psalm 96:1 NASB

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