Eating My Heart Out

Ever feel like a broken record...like when you say the same thing over and over and over to your kids, but they just don't get it.

Right now, my life feels like a broken record.  I keep living the same moments over and over and over, each time saying, "I'm glad I learned that lesson; now I can move on!"

But I don't.  I haven't.

*sigh*

Picture this:

Everything is fine.  I've made waffles for everyone for breakfast, and we're all getting showered and ready for church.  Everyone is happy.  All is well and right in the world.

But then I have to get dressed...again.

I hate getting dressed.

It's an odd thing for a grown woman to say, right?  But I really do hate it.  I hate staring into a closet-full of clothes that don't fit, feeling like I'm expanding even as I stare at them.

What to wear?

I actually have some very pretty things that fit, but let's face it - you can put glorious satin on a sack of potatoes, and it doesn't make the potatoes look better...it just makes the satin look lumpy.

I just feel awful right now.  Awful.

So, as I stood there staring at the clothes, the gnawing began, and by the time we left for church my heart was being enthusiastically devoured by self-loathing, the kind of self-loathing that spills out over onto everyone it comes in contact with.

My children wanted to know what's wrong and they asked me to cheer up, so I snapped at them.  Josiah wanted to hold my hand, but I didn't want to reach out.

I just wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere and lay there.

And, of course, we had to be going to church.  We had to be going somewhere I have to smile and pretend like the demon, Self-Loathing, isn't hunched in the corner of my psyche gobbling my heart like Georgie Porgie shoving in Christmas pie.

All I can think is, "Why don't I have any self-control?  I'm not working right now; why haven't I been working out?  Why do I let myself get like this.  I'll tell you why, Self, because you're lazy.  Josiah is working himself to the bone and you can't even put the fork down and burn a calorie or two." 

And the demon eats.

Maybe I'm learning a couple lessons after all, though.

On the way to church, I closed my eyes and prayed.  I didn't want to; the demon was having too much fun, and in the end, we're sinful, disgruntled creatures, are we?  But I did; I prayed.

I told God I was mad at myself.  I told him I don't understand why I'm this way, and thanked Him for everything He had given me and everything He has done for me.  I just can't seem to win this battle.  I fight and I fight and I fight and temptation and twinkies always win.  I gave it to Him though.  Right there in the minivan while Josiah drove to church I prayed and I handed my mangled heart to Him.  And do you know what my Savior did?

He healed it.

I walked into the church and instead of feeling like the walls were pressing in on me and I needed to get out, I felt enveloped by the people in our loving congregation, and before I could get to the nursery my heart was lighter.  In no time at all, I had forgotten my heart was ever-eaten.  It was whole.

When we took Communion, I handed my blackened heart over again.  I handed Him that sin of self-loathing and quite a few others, and as always, He handed my heart back again, clean and new.

Perhaps that's the lesson to be learned here.  We all struggle with things, sometimes the same thing...the same demon....

Self-Loathing
Gluttony
Sloth
Anger
Alcoholism
Greed
Pride

The list could go on forever.

But we can never stop handing it over.  Only when we stop handing it over to God are we truly defeated.  He wants us to give it to Him so He can fill our hearts with grace.

Lesson learned...for today.

Hidden Rewards

My quiet time this morning brought me to the book of Ruth. If you're not familiar with the story (or need a refresher like I did), I highly advise you to take a few minutes to read it.

It won't take long. It's short. I'll wait.

Back? Okay, we're ready to go then.

Ruth was a champion of loyalty.  Seriously.

She lost her husband, and her mother-in-law, having lost everything in her life, was hightailing it back to her hometown.  She sent both of her daughters-in-law back to their own people so they could remarry and carry on.

But Ruth said, "no."

She was faithful and loyal, not just to Naomi, but also to God. She was a Moabite, and hadn't grown up with the God of the Israelites, but she was faithful and loyal nonetheless.

Then, when they arrived in Bethlehem, she continued to be faithful. She worked hard and was known by everyone for her diligence and loyalty. She worked to ensure their survival, and she followed Naomi's instruction, and became the wife of Naomi's relative Boaz.

Oh, to be like Ruth.

The Bible doesn't say, but I wonder how hard it was for her.  I wonder if she spent some nights crying in anguish because she missed her husband (before her marriage to Boaz), or perhaps because she felt out of place and alone.  Did she ever get discouraged by all the hard work she was putting in?  Was she afraid?

Scripture doesn't answer these questions...but I'm thinking she may have.

I do.  Sometimes it's so difficult to see the end in sight.  

Will things ever improve?   

Are the kids ever going to listen?   

Can't the house stay clean for 5 seconds?! 

 How will we make it?   

What does the end look like?

God doesn't always give us these answers and we feel emptied by the mundane tasks.  Sometimes, the answers are hidden...

 And so are the rewards.

The last lines of Ruth list a genealogy that ends like this:

"Salmon fathered Boaz,

who fathered Obed.

And Obed fathered Jesse,

who fathered David."

(Ruth 4:21-22)

Obed, grandfather of David, was Ruth's son with Boaz.  God chose an unlikely woman - a foreigner, a widow - to the the great-grandmother of David, whose faithfulness was so great that he was given the honor of fathering the bloodline of the Messiah.

Thus, so was Ruth.

Did she know that in her lifetime?  No. 

Sometimes, we can't see an end in sight, but faithfulness can, at times, be rewarded generations down the line, in ways we can't even imagine.

So, when the going gets rough, and you can't see the end in sight, remember Ruth.  

God had a plan for her life, and He has one for yours, too...you just have to have faith and be faithful.

Linking up today for Titus Tuesday at Time Warp Wife. Check it out!

Picking Up My Sword

Good morning, everyone!

Guess what I have for everyone this morning?  A healthy dose of conviction! Don't you just LOVE that first thing in the morning?  No. Whoops.  We're going there anyway.

I, along with many of my Christian friends, have been caught saying, "I just can't memorize Scripture" or "I kinda know some Bible verses, but I never remember references."  Like a spoiled rotten rich girl tossing fiscal responsibility out the car window, we as Christians are collectively claiming, "I've no head for such things."

But that's okay right?   It's okay that I can't remember Scripture because I know what it says basically.  I know the gist of the Bible.  It's cool.

Yeah...probably not.  Not cool.

Conviction doesn't always hit you in the face like a hammer.  Sometimes it starts slowly and just starts to burn a bit...like hot coals warming up on the grill.  

The embers were first lit while listening to a sermon in the car by Dr. David Jeremiah.  My mother-in-law lent me a whole series on Spiritual Warfare forever ago, but I didn't start listening to them until recently.  

In the series, Dr. Jeremiah expounds upon the spiritual battle we all face as Christians and the spiritual armor we all need to fight the battle, which is found in Ephesians 6:10-18. 

We're at the end of the series now: we've reached the Sword of Truth, which is the Word of God.

I always thought the "sword" was the Word as a whole.  Dr. Jeremiah said he's even seen people refer to their Bibles as their swords...but that's not actually the case.

Greek is a tricky language.

In the Bible, the whole Word of God, or the message of God, in Greek is logos (pronounced Low-goss). When Jesus is referred to as "the Word" in Scripture, it is the term logos that is used, if I'm not mistaken.

However, that is not the word used in the Bible in Ephesians 6:17 when Paul says:

Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit,

which is the word of God.

Here "word" is the Greek word Rhema (Ray-mah); literally, it means "utterance," but contextually it means the Word of God applied to your situation...the Word of God written on your heart and spoken directly to you.

Confused yet?  Hang on--we'll get through, I promise.

Dr. Jeremiah explained it like this: The Bible is not the sword.  The Bible is the armory, which contains many swords.  When you read a verse (logos) and it speaks directly to your heart, in your situation, it becomes your sword (rhema)...God's word TO YOU.

That's crazy powerful, right?

The issue is, even when God speaks to our hearts through his Word, when he writes those words directly onto our souls, we're dropping them.  Can you imagine?  God is handing us gifts, and then, after the crisis, after the moment, after the turning point, we just drop it. He's handing us swords--personal, intimate gifts from him to us--and we're dropping them.

Then, the fiery coals of conviction got hotter when I went to an Awana leaders' meeting where we watched a video and one of the founders was speaking on the importance of memorizing Scripture.  This 90-odd year old man recited an entire Chapter of Isaiah (53) with passion and emotion, and he challenged leaders to do the same.

Ya see, even Awana leaders, people who are teaching children to memorize Scripture are not doing it themselves...like our brains are too old and addled for such nonsense. 

Poppycock.

We're wrong--just plain wrong. He knows it. Dr. David Jeremiah knows it. I know it.

And now...so do you.

Let me ask you something...

Can you quote your favorite movies?  Word for word?

What about your favorite songs?  Sing them at the top of your lungs?

How about your kids' favorite movies?  The ones you don't even like, but you've heard them as background noise for so long that you just know them...memorize those?

You mean, your brain doesn't freeze and go into a coma when you start to quote those things?  Huh...that's interesting.  Wonder why it's different?  

Well, duh, we know why it's different right?  We've heard and seen those movies and songs over and over and over.

DOH!  That's the clincher...that's the sword to the heart.

Maybe we should be in God's Word 

more than Hollywood or the radio.

Yup. Convicting right?

I challenge you: today memorize a Bible verse.  Today.  Sit down, open your Bible, and memorize a verse and the reference (where it's found in the Bible).  I guarantee you can do it...probably in ten minutes...or less.

You see, that's what I've found in all this.  It's not that I CAN'T memorize Scripture, it's that I DON'T, and those are two entirely different words.

Here's the deal, folks, the sword isn't doing you any good in the armory.  Only when you take up your sword(s) are you equipped to do battle in the spiritual war that is raging around you (and it is, whether you like it or not...whether you acknowledge it or not).

Body of Christ, I'm begging you--pick up your swords.

Resisting the Urge to Run to the Fridge

On Saturday at the convention (yes...the convention...again) Priscilla Shirer relayed a funny story told to her by her little brother while he was foraging through her fridge recently.  He was telling her about a time when his daughter (her niece) was two and she'd learned that the refrigerator was a magical food-bearing device.
He said she would walk over to the fridge, point to it with staunch purpose, and simply say, "EAT!"  Then, he would walk her over to the table, put her in her booster seat, and go to the fridge to make get her food.

This didn't work for her.

As far as she was concerned, she knew the fridge contained the food, and therefore, that's exactly where she thought she needed to be.

He said she would promptly pitch an absolute fit, squirm her little body out of the booster, under the table, and go back to the fridge where she would again say, "EAT!"  And the cycle repeated itself...again and again.

Man, toddlers are rough huh?

Then, tonight in the shower, I was thinking about how people like Priscilla and the rest of the crew at Women of Faith got their positions.  I mean, I feel called somehow, but you don't just start at Women of Faith conventions.  They must have started somewhere!  I know Priscilla's dad is actually in the ministry and Angie Smith married the lead singer of Selah or something.  Maybe you just have to know someone.  How am I supposed to do this if I don't know how to get there?

And then it hit me: "No, dorky, they aren't there because of some religion nepotism; God put them there."

God placed them in a particular set of circumstances in order for them to fulfill His divine purpose.  He put them at the table and then gave them what they needed.

That was Priscilla's point with the story, and it wasn't until I caught myself barging headlong over to the fridge when I needed to be waiting patiently at the table that I felt the full weight of her message.

God has put me exactly where I belong, and as hard as is to wait at the table for what He's going to give me, that's exactly what I need to do.

It's time to finally climb out of my terrible two's and learn a little patience.

No Apologies

This is second in my series of "Oh my loving Jesus, thank you for sending me to the Women of Faith conference!" posts.  It's days later, and honestly, I'm still gushing a bit.  I just feel like someone plugged me into a spiritual battery charger; I feel like my soul has been renewed.

This post is somewhat of a continuation of my last post (which you can see here).  For those of you at church last Sunday, it's like the second half of the testimony you heard...with maybe slightly more detail.

My children frustrate me so much sometimes.  Sometimes I feel like nothing I give them is ever enough.  If we go to Busch Gardens, then why can't we get ice cream afterward?  If we go to the movies, why can't we go somewhere else afterward?  Why can't they have? Why can't they do?  Their friends have blah, and their friends have blah blah; why can't they?  They're actually very grateful sometimes, but in those other times...man, it irritates the snot out of me.  It also makes me sad.

How sad do I make God?

I consistently compare myself and my abilities to other people's.  I sing decently, but I'm no Crystal Lewis from high school (she was and is A-MAZING) or Sandi Patty or Mandisa.  I think I write pretty well, but I'll never be a Priscilla Shirer or Beth Moore.  I can speak decently in front of people, but I can't imagine impacting people like these other women and men.

They're something special.  I'm just Alissa.

How often have I saddened my God?  How often has He looked on me lovingly with sadness in His eyes and said, "Oh precious Alissa, why can't you appreciate what I've already given you?  Why must you compare yourself to everyone else to find your worth?  I have given you just what you need to accomplish MY purposes for your life; for those things you are perfectly equipped."

I'm just a spoiled child; nothing He's given me is ever enough.

At one point on Saturday, Sheila Walsh told a story about singing for a Billy Graham event early in her career.  She said when she finished she thought, "Well that just wasn't all that good."  Of course, the "alter calls" for Billy Graham events are legendary, and she just knew no one would come up and they :would "put two and two together" and realize it was her fault.  Nevertheless, they flocked up.  She said she realized in that one moment that we get caught up in what we can and can't do, but when we are anointed by God there is no end to what He can do with us.  No end.

Dear Jesus, forgive me.

It was in those moments that I realized how much I take for granted and how much I compare myself with other people...and how tired I am of apologizing for who and what I am.

Tired.  Flat out tired.

I'm tired of apologizing for my voice that carries and my big personality.  I'm tired of feeling like a pit of mediocrity and secretly harboring the fear that nothing I do will never measure up.

"For it was You who created my inward parts;

You knit me together in my mother's womb.

I will praise You because I have been remarkably and wonderfully made.

Your works are wonderful and I know this very well.

My bones were not hidden from you when I was made in secret,

when I was formed in the depths of the earth.

Your eyes saw me when I was formless;

all of my days were written in Your book

and planned before a single one began."

Psalm 139:13-16

I have been remarkably and wonderfully made.

"I can do all things through Him who gives me strength" (Philippians 4:13) and if I am using the talents, personality, strengths, and gifts He's given me for His purposes and seeking His will, then I have nothing to apologize for.

Nothing.

I'm Alissa Shea Coburn.  

Most of the time I'm sunny like Rainbow Bright and my personality, voice, and butt are big. 

I have a great singing voice; it's not perfect, but I'm working on it.  

Sometimes I get so caught up in singing for my Jesus, and it's loud and bold, but then I mess up the words because I'm too immersed to look at the screen. 

I am crazy in love with my husband and my kids, and I'll probably gush about them if you give me the chance.

I love to write, and I want to be published one day.

I goofy and grinning loud and loving.

I'm Alissa, and this is the way my God made me.

I will try to learn.  I will try to improve.  I will try to grow.

But right now, right now I'm exactly who I should be for this moment and He's given me everything I need to accomplish His purposes today....

and that's all I need.



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Heart on Fire

It is late.  I haven't slept well for days.  I am wide awake.

AND I AM LOVING IT...and let me tell you why.

My heart is on fire my friends.

ON FIRE

I don't know if you've noticed, but the blog has been kind of silent lately.  It's not really that I don't have anything to say or that God isn't working in my life.  He is.  Every day.  Nevertheless, my words have been few.

I needed to take a step back for a little bit.  I was (and am) working on not needing to get outside approval from everyone on everything I do, so I've backed off a bit on my facebook posts and blogs.

But not right now...nope.  Right now I'm on fire, and God wants me to shout from the rooftops, but it's late and that would make the neighbors mad, scare my husband, and wake the baby.

So Internet, THIS IS ME SHOUTING FROM THE ROOFTOPS!!!

If you've made it past the mention of God and the all caps then hang on cuz I've got something to say and you're going to want to come along.

I am changed.  My God has been working in me...slowly...deeply...and I am changed.  Like a popcorn kernel in the pot, the water of the living God has been heated slowly by fire of the Holy Spirit in me, changing me from the inside out, and I have popped!  I am now a new creation, changed visibly by the grace of my God...and it is radical (thank you Priscilla Shirer for that metaphor!!)

As you can maybe tell, I've gotten back from the Women of Faith conference.

If you remember from another recent blog, I went last year and felt God called me to ministry (and if you missed that you can read about it here).  This year the speakers were JUST as amazing, if not better, but once you have a "calling" experience the next year is rather anticlimactic.

Or so I thought.

I didn't have a moment where I froze this year.  I wasn't scared.  I wasn't running.  I was IN IT.

And oh my precious Lord Jesus it was AWESOME, and I don't mean "That was really cool!" awesome, or even "Super inspiring!!" awesome.  I mean crying right now, getting down on my hands and knees and thanking Jesus awesome.

And I'm going to tell you why...but, as always, it's a story, and it's going to take a minute.

While I was singing and praising God this weekend, I realized I kept wanting to apologize to the people around me.  For those of you who know me, this is not a shocker.  I apologize all the time anyway, right?

I just felt so badly because I am so freakishly loud.  I am always afraid that my worshiping might be interfering with someone else's worshiping, like "don't we have a muzzle for her?!"  Because of this, it is really difficult for me to just praise God.  I'm always worried about what the people around me are thinking and whether I can sing out or whether I should hold back.

It's exhausting.

But guess what my God did?  He spoke to me. He knew I was wrestling with this, and He sent a woman named Liz Curtis Higgs onto that stage, and she said "Don't hold anything back.  Give it all to him.  Don't worry about what you sound like just give it all to Him.  Praise Him."

That's MY GOD.  I can be in an arena full of people.  I can be in a state full of people.  I can be in a world FULL of people, and MY God cares about me, loves me, enough to send a woman on stage to say something to me. 

Was she just saying that for my benefit?  No.  Obviously there was an arena full of women and other people needed to hear that, too, for many other reasons, but don't you see? That is the beauty of it.  He doesn't just love me.  He loves each and every one of us and we are precious to Him.  He is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent.

He is the GREAT I AM, and He loves us, and He speaks to each one of us.

We just have to choose to listen.

So, I sang out.  I gave my God my all.  I messed up the words sometimes, but that's okay.  I changed octaves in the middle sometimes, but that's okay.

I gave my all to my God, and friends, it felt gooooooood.

And I'm ready to do it more.  You see, I got a NEW word from God this weekend, a lot of words actually, and I'm ready to share.

I need to share.  I am bursting at the seams to share!

If you're reading this I want you to know, you may be my best friend or we may be complete strangers, but I love you and God loves you, and He's got something He wants me to say to you.  It's going to take a while and you may have to come back and visit me multiple times because He has A LOT He wants me to say, but any message He sends through any person He chooses will be worth hearing.  Always.

Will you listen?

The World is Our Playground

I'm hoping this post comes out okay because I'm posting from my cell phone...on a park bench...watching my children play...in the sun and cool breeze.

*sigh of contentment*

I am just so very grateful. I'm grateful to my God and my wonderful husband for making this a reality. So delightfully, inexplicably, sublimely grateful.

And guilty. Very, very guilty.

While we delay school for an hour or two so we can play outside, my loving, hard-working husband is spending his "day off" painting for extra money.

I'm trying to do what I can to show him how much I appreciate him (like homemade blueberry muffins and banana chocolate chip waffles this morning), but it's just never enough.

He's tired and doing his best to push off worry and trust in God, but as the family's sole provider I know the burden rests heavily on him. We're praying God will provide a different job soon, one that allows him to relax just a bit and see his family more, but until then, he's working hard and long.

I'm so proud: grateful and proud.

I've been given moments like today and the ability to be with my children every day. I'm not in a windowless office staring at a computer screen and longing to be with my children.

I'm with them. The world is our playground and I am in love with my life.

Thank you God, and thank you Josiah. :)