My Heart's Report Card

I could feel the sadness creeping in. It was heavy and thick, like Mississippi mud, and I tried to swallow it down, but it rose up, a knot in my stomach that threatened to crawl through my chest and escape as a ragged sob.

Sometimes, you just don't want to lose it in public...but sometimes you do anyway.

This weekend at church, we continued our "Rooted" series. First, we talked about being rooted in the word, and then in our relationship with God. Last week we talked about being rooted firmly in relationships with other believers, and this week, we talked about being rooted in our purpose.

It didn't really affect me until then end...until the worship team was singing about moving forward and Pastor Freddy prayed about clarity of vision. That's when the knot started forming.

Five years ago, I received a calling from God (and you can read about that here). He didn't ask me to do anything specific at the time. He just told me He was calling me.

I know it was real. I know He's calling me. I know He wants something very big from me.

But I still have no clear vision of what that is...and somewhere, deep in me, that weighs so heavily.

I remembered feeling like that another time at FLC, just over three years ago, when we visited on a Saturday night on a whim.

I was pregnant with Avery at the time, and Pastor Freddy was preaching on GOING: praying hard for God's will, but MOVING. I wrote a blog post about it because, even then, I felt the indescribable urge to move forward, but felt the hand of God holding me back until the time was right.

And once again, last night, there I sat on the front row, tears streaming down my face because I'm so ready for my vision.

Or am I?

Cognitively, I'm very aware that I'm NOT ready. I have six children. Five of them are still in our home, three of them are ages four and under, and we have yet another baby on the way. Taking care of them is most important right now, and I know I'm not ready for any huge responsibilities beyond that. Raising them is part of my preparation process.

Furthermore, I know that, should God give me more of His vision, I wouldn't wait for His timing. I like to jump in with both feet, and I would jump straight into the wrong thing. It's almost certain.

I think that's what made the overwhelming sadness so difficult to contend with: I felt like there was no reason for it! God's got this! I'm very aware...so why the heavy heart?

When I got home, I did some digging. I went back to the blog post I wrote three years ago, and it ministered to me.

First, it brought back to mind a verse that I should truly plaster all over the walls of my house just to make sure it gets plastered on my heart:

For the vision still awaits its appointed time;

it hastens to the end-

it will not lie.

If it seems slow, wait for it;

it will surely come;

it will not delay.

Habakkuk 2:3

It is exactly what I am sure of in my heart, and there it was, staring right back at me from God's Word. He is so good.

Secondly, however, it reminded me to look back and see the progress that's been made in the last three years, as well as completing a sound assessment of where He's still doing some major work on me.

I started two pages in my prayer journal: one for "lessons learned" and another for "lessons He's still teaching me." Then, I went back through almost every, single blog post I've made since the one in May of 2014. The results were both uplifting and sobering.

I was able to fill an entire page with lessons I feel God has worked solidly into my heart, lessons that have become part of my daily walk, part of who I am as a follower of Christ.

However, there was also 2/3 of a page of lessons He's still teaching me - areas where I may have picked up part of the lesson, but have continued to fumble or have just dropped altogether.

I felt both deep conviction and sincere gratitude. God has already given me my next steps: complete the ones He's already given me.

There are areas in my life - diligence, household management, self-doubt, confidence - where He's still teaching me lessons, and if they are not tended to before I go into ministry, I will crumble and fold under the pressure of the enemy.

Pastor Freddy even preached on that last night! He said, "Sometimes we have to go back and complete what God has already asked us to do in order to move forward into what He has next." At the time, however, I was unable to see how that applied.

I once was blind, but now I see - thank God for His amazing grace. It's time for me to move backward and pick up some things I've dropped in order to make sure I'm fully equipped for the road ahead.

I made a report card for my heart: in some areas I've got O's for outstanding and S's for satisfactory, but I've also got some big fat N's staring back at me for areas in which I desperately Need Progress. 

The main verse we've concentrated on for our Rooted series has been Colossians 2:6-7:

Therefore, as you have received

Christ Jesus the Lord, walk in Him,

rooted and built up in him

and established in the faith,

just as you were taught,

overflowing with gratitude.

And very appropriately, that's where I ended up last night. I laid my head to my pillow overflowing with gratitude, knowing all God has already done, grounded in what He's still doing, and excited for what's to come.

That's another lesson from the past that He's still writing on my heart:

My adventure doesn't start

when I become the person I'm supposed to be;

my adventure is in the BECOMING.

Alissa Shea Coburn

"I'm Going on an Adventure"

December 30, 2016

And I'm enjoying my adventure. 

When Faith Meets Fat (a.k.a. Dressing Room Drama)

Lamentations 3:21-23

I sat there, in dressing room, the unforgiving fluorescent lights bearing down on my half-clothed body, and I prayed.

Dear God, I just told Emily 15 minutes ago that hating her body was a waste of time and a waste of a gift from You. Help me, God. Help me keep it together so those words won't be lost. Don't let me break down here.

God got me through. I put the unkind, unforgiving pants back on the rack, bought Emily's things, and continued on about the evening. Later that night, though, I laid in bed and talked to Josiah about it. At first it was a calm controlled conversation, and then...

Then the Holy Spirit revealed to me what was really going on inside me, and it came gushing out with hot, condemning tears.

It's just pointless. I was put on my first diet at 7 years old. I have been fighting this battle for 30 years, just about my entire life, and the victories are few and far between. I cannot do this anymore. I'm just a fat person. It's who I am, and there's no use in trying to change it. It doesn't matter if I walk. It doesn't matter if I put the cookie down because tomorrow, or in the next hour, or in the next 5 minutes, I'll just fail again, so what's the point in putting forth the effort/

Apparently, the pants weren't the only things that were "unkind" and "unforgiving." Basically, I was saying losers lose...and I'm a loser.

And that, my friends, is my battle, in a nutshell.

The next morning, though, I poured my heart out to Jesus. I dove into His Word, and He put these scriptures on my heart. This is a picture of what that looks like for me...because it's real and raw and organic. Sometimes, the clean lines of computer font can't quite convey the heart as well as ink on paper.

It's definitely imperfect. Avery scribbled all over the page before I even wrote on it, and I didn't want to waste the page. But I didn't care. It was messy, and it was pure, and it was good.

He knocked at the door of my heart, and I opened it, and He came in to fellowship with me and comfort me (Revelation 3:20).

And His grace is sufficient for me (2 Corinthians 12:9). Oh dear God, thank you for your grace being sufficient. When I am weak, HE is strong, and even though I struggle, He is ready and waiting with grace upon grace. Always enough. Always sufficient.

When Paul was talking about power being perfected in weakness, do you know what he was talking about? The thorn in his flesh. He begged God to take it away, but to ensure Paul stayed humble and constantly seeking His grace, God left the thorn.

Because His grace is sufficient. 

My struggle with my body and food is my thorn. It just is. I can attempt to fight it on my own or just admit defeat (one normally leads to the other), OR I can lean into God for His strength, and rest and revel in His grace when I don't.

If you asked me, generally, if I think I am a hopeless person, I would answer "Of course not! I'm full of hope!" But, in this one thing, I was definitely hopeless.

I had given up hope because I felt like it only brought pain, but that was because I was only hoping in my own strength, and can I tell you? I am not a strong person, not in this area, at least. I am weak.

But God is not.

So, now, I will dare to hope. I will put my trust and hope in Him because He is faithful and His mercies are new each morning. Thank you, God!!

Now friend, it's time for me to ask you, in what area have you given up hope? Where have you depended upon your own strength when you should be leaning on the everlasting arms?

It's almost the end of 2016. We're on the cusp of a new year, a fresh start. Let Him breathe new life, new hope, into those dark corners of your heart.

His mercies are new, and He's waiting for you.

Faithfulness and Failure

Let me ask you a question. In which of the following two scenarios am I more successful?

1. I'm faithful to my husband and try to be the best wife I can be, but I don't get the attention I want from him; OR
2. I'm unfaithful to my husband, but I find the attention I seek in others?

I think most people will SCREAM at this point, FAITHFUL TO YOUR HUSBAND! ARE YOU INSANE?!

Never fear. I have not lost my mind; I am not unfaithful; he gives me plenty of attention.

Nevertheless, I've been having a REALLY hard time lately emotionally, and the above question is a mediocre metaphor for what God has been showing me. (I'll explain, I promise.)

When I say I've had a hard time, I mean to say engaged in full-on spiritual warfare. 

I had been praying and sobbing my way through it for days, when finally, I hid at church Sunday, crumpled on the floor of the dark, abandoned sanctuary. 

The church pianist found me there, bawling and praying. She prayed over me. Then, once she left,  I quite literally prayed through Romans 8 and Ephesians 6 (particularly the part about putting on the armor of God).

Why, you may ask, was I struggling so horribly? Was someone dying? Had my husband been unfaithful? Had my kids been hurt.

Nope...I felt like a failure.

It sounds so silly, right? Nevertheless, it was what I felt, and it was crushing me.

The enemy whispered in my ear over and over, that I wasn't successful in ANY area of my life: wife, homemaker, leader, businesswoman, writer...FAILURE.

The name followed me around like a cloud; it pressed down on me. It was suffocating.

FAILURE.

The prayer session on the sanctuary floor FINALLY lifted the dark veil, and I felt happier than I have in quite some time during the worship service.

Let's face it...this hasn't been the only time I've been reduced to blubbering lately. God has been working in my life in big ways, and sometimes, that can be painful...but MAN, it's worth it.

That night, during some much-needed time away from everyone, I started a book called Victory Over the Darkness: Realizing the Power of Your Identity in Christ by Neil T. Anderson. This morning, I read Chapter 2, and shed tears of joy as I read aloud who GOD says I am...

and let me give you a hint, it's NOT a failure.

Yesterday, I went to a Zumba class at the Y. During one of the last songs, I stopped early on the squats. I hate when I do that, I thought. I feel like such a failure.

I chased the thought away, immediately. I've had enough of the failure nonsense over the last week.

I said to myself, Alissa Shea, you have just completed a class you walked out of 6 months ago. You are walking out happy, with your head held high because you were faithful and came to work out.

Did you catch that? I was faithful because I showed up and did my best.

It was in that moment that it hit me: 

I have been looking at whether I'm a success or failure based upon my perceived outcome, instead of my obedient action. I was tied up in whether people were responding to what I was doing, instead of focusing on the fact that I'm just doing what I've been called to do, despite the outcome.

Do you see the similarity in the introductory example now? It's obvious to just about everyone that being faithful to my husband makes me more successful than getting attention, but that's not how we think most of the time is it?

When the blog doesn't get enough hits...

When my husband doesn't tell me I'm beautiful...

When no one notices what I've done...

When people don't respond to my messages...

When me team doesn't perform well...

When no one shows up to the study...

At various times, and definitely recently, I've looked at each of those outcomes and taken them personally. It sounds so shallow doesn't it? Well...it is, but it's the truth.

However, if I've been faithful, if I've done what I truly believe God wants me to do, then I haven't failed.

What, then, shall we say in response to these things?

If God is for us, who can be against us?

Romans 8:31

Here's the bottom line: I know Whose I am. Each and every day, I'm praying that He will guide my paths and make them straight.

For you are all children of God

through faith in Christ Jesus.

Galatians 3:26

In all your ways acknowledge him,

and he will make your paths straight.

Proverbs 3:6

And no matter what, even when I misstep, even when I feel like I've failed, He can use it for my good.

We know that all things work together for the good of those who love God: those who are called according to His purpose.

Romans 8:28

Even when I let the deceiver fool me into feeling like a failure, God can take it and use it for good in my life. And I'm hoping, through my sharing, He can use it in yours, as well.

I foresee a lot of blog posts about this in the coming weeks as I work my way through the book. I would challenge you to come along with me. 

Do you fully understand your identity in Christ? Do you fully appreciate the miracle of what's been done for you, and the position it's put you in? Do you fully understand what it means to be adopted as a child of God?

I don't think I do yet. But I'm on my way.

Another Confession

My last post was titled "Confession" so this one had to be "Another Confession"...because I am not the most creative person on the planet.  This confession, though, is going to be WAY different than the last.

It's personal and shallow and ugly.

I've been struggling a lot lately. A lot.  Maybe it's hormones or possibly sleep deprivation, but I tend to cry at the drop of a hat.

The most common catalyst?

Getting dressed...or looking in the mirror. Both.

I posted something about it on facebook a couple weeks ago, and apparently, I'm not alone.  I had so many friends make comments after that telling me they felt the same thing. "We're with you, sister" was the general consensus.

Women have issues.  Seriously.

You know what though?  Somehow, knowing other people feel that way too, knowing they are standing in their rooms half naked and struggling to find clothes that fit...doesn't help.  It doesn't help to know that I just had a baby eight weeks ago.

I just seem to sink lower and lower into self pity.

I would love to tell you that the knowledge that it is self pity helps drag me out of the muck...but sadly, no.

I've struggled with weight my entire life so you would think I'd be used to this somehow...that I would have gained some sort of inner strength and acceptance and moved on.

Nope.  Still stuck.  And it's getting worse.

I used to at least look in the mirror and say, "Well, maybe they'll be distracted by my face.  I have a pretty decent face."  Not anymore.  Lately, I look in the mirror and just feel old and tired.

I've lost my sparkle.  Blech.

Still...loads and loads of self pity.  And it hurts...a lot.  People, I'm talking about sobbing...crying out.

But not to God.  He has more important things to do than worry about me feeling badly about my looks.  Even the Bible says:

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as elaborate hairstyles and the wearing of gold jewelry or fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight. 

1 Peter 3:3-4

Well guess what?  I am totally concerned with my outward appearance and it hurts so much to hate my reflection that it literally pains me.  It gives me physical pain in the pit of my stomach.  I can't stand for my husband to look at me with his adoring stare because all I feel when he looks at me is the same feeling I get when I look at myself.  Pain.

And my spirit definitely isn't gentle and quiet.  It's crying, sobbing, and snot filled.

So I haven't gone to God with it...because he has better things to do, right?

But then I remembered a little drawing the pastor did with Emily when he was talking to her about Christianity and her baptism.  He drew arrows toward heaven that could never reach; those symbolize people's efforts to get to heaven by being good enough, smart enough, kind enough, and "Christian" enough, but all those efforts fall short. 

But then he drew an arrow that went from heaven all the way to a little stick figure Emily on Earth.  He told her that Christianity says that instead of us clamoring our way to God, He came down to us.  He died on the cross so that we could be united with Him; all we have to do is accept it.

It was a great illustration.

It didn't occur to me until yesterday...crying in the minivan...again...listening to the song "Cry Out to Jesus" by Third Day, that the illustration shows more than just what I explained above.

The arrow came down to the little Emily figure right where she was.  It didn't come down a mile away and make her walk to it.  Jesus didn't come down and say "I'm dying for your sins..you just need to be this good before you can accept it."

He meets us just where we are...even as long-standing Christians.

Jesus meets us where we are whether that's in a church pew, an office, a back alley, a ditch, or in front of a closet of clothes that don't fit.

Psalm 34:17 says, "The righteous cry out, and the LORD hears them; he delivers them from all their troubles."

All their troubles.  He hears us when we cry out.

So that's what I did.

I went home, got on my knees, and cried out.

And it helped.  For that little bit I felt better.  I was able to get on with my day without bawling, and that was a great gift.

I went to yoga and spent the day in sweats with no makeup on...and still somehow managed to genuinely smile when Josiah looked at me.

I wish I had some other answers.  I know women everywhere are trying to come to terms with the mirror, but I'm not there yet.  I'm on a journey.  When I get to my destination I promise I'll share all the slides from my trip and the lessons learned along the way.

But for now, I'll just cry out.