Playing with Razors

My little Ryan hurt himself yesterday. Although he's been told many times not to, he decided to touch his sister's razor in the bathroom.

Sometimes, it's just hard to be a little boy with sisters.

He came to me with a bloody thumb and tears in his sad, little eyes and wailed, "Mommy it hurts!"

I bandaged his little digit and gave him hugs. In this situation he'd already gotten punishment enough, but he did get a little speech.

We talked about why mommies and daddies have rules: to keep their children from getting hurt. We also talked about God's rules for us: they are for our benefit, and keep us from getting hurt. Emily chimed in at that point and said, "And to keep us from hurting other people."

*sigh* I don't know if she knows the weight of her statement

My sister-in-law, Jamie, wrote a beautiful blog post recently about her walk with God, and it so mirrored mine. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I just didn't get it. I had no idea how to go about living it. I thought there were "good Christians," and then there was me, and I tried, but I just couldn't be that good. I was too dirty. 

I made decisions for my life and never once consulted God because I prayed, but I had no clue how to hear His voice in my life; so why pray about decisions? 

I was flying on a wing and a prayer. My plane was in bad shape, and all my instruments were down. I didn't know where I was going, but I hoped I was still sort of in one piece when I got there.

Just to let you know, that's not a good way to go through life.

But then, God brought people into my life that showed me how to walk with Him...and it changed my life forever. He bandaged my wounded heart and continues to every day.

Last night I had dessert with my gorgeous young friend and her wonderful boyfriend. We talked about the blog and church, and she said she's trying to find God for herself. She's had some bad experiences with religion and church and hypocrisy and seeing unfaithful Christians, and now she's trying to work out her faith.

Oh my heart.

I told her I was proud of her and she needs to find Jesus for herself. Hear this: you cannot own someone else's religion. It has to be yours, in your heart. I have faith that she'll find Him, and I'll help her any way I can.

But it made me think back to when I was younger...all three years ago or so. I thought back to all the times I was claiming Jesus and clamoring around in the dark. I think again about people I may have misled or turned away from the gospel. I've asked for forgiveness, and I know it's been granted, but often accepting it is the hardest part.

Please understand this, and I say it not with condemnation but from experience - if you are claiming Jesus, but walking in darkness (not reflecting His light), then you are actively working for the other side. I see that now. There is no middle ground. I wasn't helping, so I was hurting...that's just how it is.

This is the message we have heard from him and proclaim to you, 

that God is light, and in him is no darkness at all. 

If we say we have fellowship with him while we walk in darkness, 

we lie and do not practice the truth. 

But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, 

we have fellowship with one another, 

and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.

(1 John 1:5-7, ESV)

So, if you're there, walking in darkness, and you want to know how to walk in The Light, contact me. Email me (alissaandjosiah@yahoo.com); facebook me (https://www.facebook.com/daizygirl1979); comment here; heck, send carrier pigeons, whatever it takes. If you don't want to talk to me, call or email my pastor, Jim Weston, at Menchville Baptist Church (757-877-4532; pastorjim@menchvillebaptist.com).

Just don't go another day without claiming what is already yours! All you have to do is reach out and take it! There may be a cost (there is with every decision), and it probably won't be painless; I won't tell you a lie. But I will tell you this: it is always worth it. HE is always worth it. The relationship with Him is always worth it.

Life has many "razors", and unfortunately, most of them look like they'd be fun to touch. God's Word is there for us, not to hinder us from having fun, but to keep us and others, safe. We all have scars from the razors we've played with, but God is waiting, hearing our desperate cries saying, "Jesus it hurts!" 

But He's still waiting: to dry our tears, bandage our wounded hearts, and teach us the lessons we so desperately need. Let Him.

Do not fear, for I am with you;

Do not be dismayed, for I am your God.

I will strengthen you, and help you;

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

(Isaiah 41:10, NIV)

Linking up with:
Simply Beth
Juana Mikels
Time Warp Wife

Is He Better Off On the Roof?

Good morning world.  I hope you’re all well today.

Want to hear about how I messed up this weekend?  Sure you do.  We’re a voyeuristic society.  Everyone wants to know about how someone else messed up. 

*sigh* Well, that’s pessimistic. 

Let’s try this instead: on Time Warp Wife this morning, guest contributor Clare Smith said God places people in our lives sometimes as a warning.  We see the consequences someone else is enduring for their actions, and therefore, we are reminded to alter our behavior.  I thought the example she used was brilliant.  We see someone on the side of the road caught for speeding, and immediately we are 1) thankful it wasn’t us and 2) reminded to slow down. 

Let me be your example.  Let me be the person that reminds you to slow down and think today.

No, I didn’t get a speeding ticket.  I might have preferred that.

First, we all know I haven’t been sleeping.  I don’t think anyone who’s glanced at the blog lately could miss the whining about that.  Furthermore, I’m not a person who deals with sleep deprivation well.  I…need…sleep.  Without it, I have a tendency to be kind of grouchy and over-emotional.  Sprinkle a little PMS in the mix and you’re really left with an explosive cranky cocktail.  Yup…that’s me.

The chapter I read last week in The Resolution for Women dealt with the subject of fulfilling your husband.  In it, Priscilla Shirer said she heard Kay Arthur say something once that really stuck with her.  Kay said the sum of a man’s fears could be summarized into two:

-          Fear of being found inadequate

-          Fear of being controlled by a woman

I would say that’s probably pretty accurate.  Somehow, though, despite the fact that I studied this last week, took it to heart, and prayed about it, I still managed to screw up rather royally.  Apparently, God knew I needed a more hands-on approach.

I had a few very snarky moments last week, but all of them paled in comparison to the verbal sewage moment I had on Saturday morning.  Josiah and I lay in bed together, holding on to the last few moments we could before cooking breakfast so he could go to work.  And then, in an attempt to be sweet, he did something that actually sort of annoys me.  And I told him that…rather obnoxiously.  Okay…incredibly obnoxiously.  Like many times when we spray verbal venom, it wasn’t necessarily what I said, but the horrifyingly ugly tone in which I said it.  Just ugly.

I apologized almost immediately and countless times since then, but that’s the thing about ugly words (or tones).  Once you’ve spoken them, you can unspeak them.  There’s no eraser for that.  In less than 10 seconds I damaged my new husband’s pride and made him feel inadequate.  Consequently, things have been different for us the last couple days.

If you know Josiah and I, and you’ve ever seen the way he looks at me (only the Lord knows why), then you might get this, but it’s just been different the last couple days.  He’s wounded, it’s my fault, and I see it in his eyes when he looks at me…and that’s entirely my fault.

I had another sleepless night last night…big surprise.  I gave up around 4:30 and got up to do my quiet time.  When I finished around 5:15, which is when I normally get up, I almost just got straight into the shower.  Instead, though, I crawled back into bed with my husband, wrapped myself in his arms, and sobbed.  My heart is about as remorseful as I think it can be.  He assured me that everything is fine, it’s just going to take a few days to shake it off, but it feels like forever.

All because of haphazardly chosen words and a condescending tone.

Beware ladies.  I’m actually lucky because Josiah, like me, wears his heart on his sleeve.  Seeing his pain allowed me to recognize the gravity of my decision almost immediately.  But many men would hide their hurt behind a wall built with bricks made of their wives’ unkind words, whose hurt wouldn’t be apparent until the wall stretched high and long, an almost impenetrable fortress.

Learn from my mistakes, and remember:

Better to live on a corner of the roof

than share a house with a quarrelsome wife.

Proverbs 25:24

Let’s see if we can keep Josiah off the roof, shall we?

Broken

I am just heartbroken.  Absolutely broken.

I haven't spoken with my mom in a month and a half.  I miss her.  I miss my momma so much.
 
But I don't know where she went.  She's just not there anymore.  Her physical body is there, but my momma is gone.

I want to pour out my heart here, but the backspace key keeps gnawing away my pain.  It's trashy to expose family business right?  Hush your mouth and don't you dare tell anyone.

*sigh*

Maybe it's just a sign that I'm part of a performing voyeuristic generation.  We are all Jimmy Stewart sitting at the rear window, and yet, we're also the entertainment in the apartments across the way.  

Is it reassurance we seek?

Camaraderie?

Approval?

Attention?

Are we just voices crying out, desperate to be heard in this impersonal wired world?

Or maybe we just like to air dirty laundry.  Pretty words on a blog or "you are not the father" on Maury.  Is it all the same?

All I know is that I'm broken.

I've prayed about my course of action.  I've sought advice from those who share my beliefs and know the situation.

And this is the way it has to be...for now.

But I miss my momma.