Prepared & Processed

I was going to wait and blog this till my wordpress account was fully set up, but I can't hold it in. I have to write and I have to write right now (hehehe).

2012 has been one of the toughest years of my life. In my opinion tougher than 2010. 2010 was a year of testing and trials, but the latter half of 2010 was not as painful as the beginning. However, in 2012 I have in silence walked through many painful days, and slept in my own tears. I wanted to give up, give in, throw in the towel, and turn the other way. I no longer wanted to fight. I just wanted to be your average church going, working, pays my bills on time, has a few friends kind of gal. I believe in my heart of hearts that GOD has a special assignment for me that only I can finish. And because of that being an average church going, working, bill paying citizen wasn't in the agenda. If anything my life has been, and continue to be anything but average. I have felt loneliness, sadness, bitterness, fear, anxiety, and rejection to whole different level.

John 15:19 King James Version (KJV) 19 If ye were of the world, the world would love his own: but because ye are not of the world, but I have chosen you out of the world, therefore the world hateth you.

So yesterday as I battled another round of wanting to run away, but knowing better GOD brought this verse to me as I as looking for another verse during Bible study. 

Luke 22:31-34

King James Version (KJV)

³¹ And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat:

³² But I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not: and when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren.

I read it in a few different versions before I settled on the KJV version, because that's the version that almost had my jaw on the floor waiting to be picked up. As many times I've heard that verse I remember the part where Jesus warned Peter about the desires of the enemy. I've always thought it was a beautiful verse. Like a parent to a kid he warns him about what is in store, but he says "I won't ask for that test to go away, but my biggest prayer is that when you go  through that test that you hold onto your faith". How beautiful is that? How parent like is that just one comment from Christ to Peter? Growing up in an Indian household I know all about sifting wheat. It gets tossed around pretty harshly, and shaken up heavily. Quite frankly I don't think I would really want to be a wheat in that process. But as a Christian it's pretty much inevitable. But often times as we go through struggles in life our prayer is for the struggle to go away, not for our faith to hold on and grow stronger. We want the shakes, and tremors to stop. We want to reach our destination before our preparation. 


Now what really made me almost do a flip while reading this verse isn't GOD's warning to Simon, but the very last part of it.... "....and when thou art converted..". SAY WHAT!!?? Converted?? GOD what you mean converted? This is one of your disciples. He has walked with you, and been with you in uncomfortable places. He has seen the miracles you have performed...so what exactly do you mean converted? It wasn't that Peter was a non believer. A man that was just going with the crowd because a man claiming to be the Messiah was with him, and everyone seems excited about him so let me join the party kind of guy. You see Peter still had a process he had to go through. As much as he loved Christ, and would be a bad somebody for the Kingdom he had some maturing to do. The whole time he was a disciple GOD knew this. He knew that Peter would be the first one to jump off and cut someone's ear off, but just hours later be afraid to even claim to be a disciple. 


Christ invited Peter to walk with him knowing that he needed some work. He invited Peter knowing exactly where he was in life. He could have felt disqualified....counted himself out, but who isn't disqualified? Which one of us does not need a little conversion? But the beauty of it is.....Christ is inviting us knowing that we need that conversion. There is only one more thing he added to this "strengthen thy brethren". Every little "glitch" that he fixes....every conversion that happens...remember it is not only to teach you something, but it is to strengthen your brethren. 


It's just blows me away that a man that walked so closely with Christ. A man who was discipled by GOD manifested in flesh after all that time still needed to be converted. Got me to thinking "Who am I  to think I don't need it?"

Stripped

When I first started talking to my bf I was beyond surprised at how many of his friends I actually knew, and knew of me. Having come from a relationship where I was barely known off this was a whole new territory for me, and rather exciting. But as time went by I felt as if I wasn't accepted. It bothered me a lot. I would sit there for hours obsessing about why they aren't responding to me as I thought they should respond to me. In my mind we should have been able to call each other, and have girl talks, and confide in each other our struggles while giggling about how much the guys don't "get it". I thought I should be gaining sisters especially older ones instead of being in a room with people with whom I barely had much to say with. My expectations of them were high. I was coming from being the big sister, little sister, care taker, and listener that when I did get into this relationship my need for wanting a little bit nurture was awakened. A side of me that I didn't know existed because I was always on the giving end of it.All of the sudden I wanted a big sister someone with whom I can laugh, cry, share even just a little bit instead of being "strong". I have to admit I was getting a bit tired of the "strong" role. I wanted to be viewed as a human being, and not just a "strong" individual. As the days became months my expectations grew into disappointments, and some days resentment.I won't lie there were times my bf would tell me what a great conversation he had with XYZ and I had to do everything in my power not to roll my eyes, and soc him in the face. I started analyzing everything about me. Am I too churchy? Am I judgmental? Do I not wear the right type of clothes? Am I too opinionated? All of this slowly took a hit on my relationship with him as well, because I was convinced he didn't get it and he never would get it. There was a part of me that on days was mad at him for not understanding my side. Everything that I had to offer as an individual I kept throwing it out the window, because I didn't deem it as good enough for others.

I never not once stopped to think about the people who have accepted me with open arms. I pushed that aside,and ran after getting the acceptance of people who didn't show that much interest in me. Like I've ALWAYS done since childhood. From my aunts, to grandmothers, to my own father, and my ex. Running after them to win their approval and affection. To show them I was good enough to be considered by them. And each time I threw out of the window everything that I had to offer as an individual. By the time 25 came around I have practically stripped myself of everything. My life was high lighted by most of the negative things. I mostly saw flaws. And when I told people you just don't understand what I was really saying was "I want you to see it exactly as I do. Feel my pain...dislike this person for making me feel wanted". I'm glad no one has slapped me across the face as a response and said "No you don't understand, and stop spending so much time obsessing over the ones that don't want to be a part of your life". At this exact moment as I type away these raw words of exposing myself for who I really am. I'm not writing it in past tense of that used to be me. I am saying...right now....this very moment THIS IS ME. Someone who has stripped herself of everything GOD saw valuable. Someone who always ran after fixing the situation with a person who could care less about fixing anything. No I haven't found an answer, but I figure I should start some where. So I started with admission. I started with my words, and my only request is that people don't treat me differently because I was honest enough to say what was rooted deep within me.

The Wounds of Your Past

Few months back I posted this question on my blog concerning past hurts( Question). Today I browsed through the my devotional I stumbled upon this. Please read till the end.

Written by Bonnie Gray, The FaithBarista

Some of us grow up -- or end up -- soaking up the wounds of those we love. We may have found the inner strength in those moments to carry ourselves through. But, there will come a time to remember. There will come a time to heal.

I was standing in the toy store aisle. Frozen. I didn't know what to do.

It was going to be our last visit together, after my parent's divorce. But, I didn't know it at the time.

I was a little girl. My father wanted to buy me a toy. But, my mother didn't want me to return home with one. I wasn't supposed to take anything from him.

So, I told him I didn't want anything.

I was okay.

But, I wasn't.

Frozen

It's funny how the most terrible memories of the past can smooth out over the years to simply become a story you tell yourself. It's a familiar scene that unrolls every now and then. What he said. What I said. How the floor of the store shimmered under the gloss of florescent lights. How happy my little sister was, picking toys off the shelf, like she won the lottery.

But, I never realized all the emotions I felt at that moment could be frozen inside me.

I am learning that some of the stories that I've merely viewed as childhood memories are still live events -- behind the steel trap door of my heart.

No, I haven't buried them.

No, I haven't forgotten about them.

I've simply moved past them.

By being strong.

By surviving.

By growing up.

By depending on God -- in the sincerity of my heart -- to move myself further away from the little girl in me.

Who was afraid.

Who didn't know what to do.

But deep inside, that little girl is still there.

Deep where I've never had any need for fear, confusion or neediness, there is a part of me who very much alive: the girl in me who carries my father's wounds.

You can't see that part of me looking on the outside.

I certainly didn't.

Until recently.

The Right Thing

I started remembering -- the look in my father's eyes.

"Daddy can't be with you anymore..." His voice stumbles. His head drops. I notice how straight his hair is parted to the side, as he crouches low.

I start to feel very nervous. It doesn't feel right somehow. Him. So low. So close. Too low. Too close.

"Daddy just... wants... to..." He starts to choke back tears. Swallows hard. Looks straight into my eyes. I see pain. He struggles to finish his sentence. Tries again. "Daddy... just... wants to... buy you a toy."

I can't tell you exactly what was running through my mind. But, I know how I feel right then and there.

Thickness fills my little body from the top of my head down, dropping down through the beating heart in my chest, to the bottom of my feet.

I feel trapped.

I don't know what is the right thing to do anymore. I am afraid.

What should I do? What will happen if I did one thing -- or the other?

Who will happen to him? What will happen to her?

What will happen to me?

Wounds

As I stood there at the checkout register, with my father pulling out paper bills from the wad of cash he kept in his pocket, I felt frozen again. Fearful for what would happen after my ride home in his olive green Nova with the peeling roof.

I didn't want him to pay for our new toys with his hard-earned cash. But, as he placed the plastic bag of toys into my hands and tried to reassure me, "It's gonna be okay... It's gonna be okay...", I knew it wasn't going to be that way at all.

I am learning that day I took that plastic bag was also the day I began to carry my father's wounds in my heart. These weren't wounds he inflicted on me. They were ones I saw opening up in him. These were wounds I tried to avoid by taking that toy back home with me.

These were wounds I wanted to soak up in me by my doing the right thing.

Things didn't turn out okay that day.

Even though I tried to do the right thing.

Stay Here

As I walked through this memory, with Jesus in the picture now as a grown up, I discovered a heart-altering realization.

I know, Bonnie. Jesus whispers.

I know this wound, Bonnie.

What do you want me to do? I ask Jesus.

You don't have to do anything.

But, what do you want me to do? I ask again.

Stay. Here. With me.

Please. Do s-o-m-e-t-h-i-n-g about this. I'm begging. I'm desperate to do something.

Tell me to do something about this feeling of restless helplessness. I want it to go away.

Let me. Stay here. With you.

"Why can't I just let old wounds die?" I cry out. Because they don't.

Wounds don't die.

But, wounds can healed -- if we make the choice -- to face them with Jesus.

Our tender Jesus is never closer than that very moment our wounds become alive. His love for our private feelings of helplessness and shame never surge deeper -- as He holds us with deep compassion, heart aching and hating every moment of our pain. Jesus hasn't forgotten our wounding. Jesus hasn't stopped loving us since.

Running Into Her

I don't know if this story I'm sharing reads like a foreign tale from a land you've never visited. There's a part of me that feels that I'm the only one. But, if perchance you find yourself like me -- running into that little girl in you who is feeling --

helpless,

restless,

trapped,

disoriented,

between the right thing to do -- and the reality of an overwhelming difficulty, painful relationship or heartbreaking loss --

I want you to know that I am right alongside you -- treading this water of perplexing circumstances that have placed you in front of your wounded self.

I am reaching out to you today, with a smile and many tears.

To say Jesus is next to you.

He is next to me.

And I want to encourage you.

I once believed the evidence of faith was having hope when the burden of carrying pain crushes our souls. But, I'm discovering faith is equally flowing -- maybe even more so -- when we can fall into the arms of Jesus when we do feel hopeless -- in order to know that the little girl in us can be safe and will be rescued.

For sure, this is path of faith and healing is hard and long. Especially for someone like me who has been so good at being adequate or at least, having plans in place to avoid otherwise.

Free to Remember

Is this such a time for you as well? Maybe like me, you find yourself unable to forget. Maybe like me, Jesus doesn't want you to forget. Jesus wants us to be free to remember --

the wounds we have carried,

the wounds we have survived,

the wounds we have kept hidden.

We can be free to remember, so that we can be comforted. And to comfort each other. He wants to say to you and me --

I know what you've carried.

I've loved you completely.

Even back then.

I haven't forgotten.

You can be with me.

This way.

Now.

“Can a mother forget the baby at her breast
and have no compassion on the child she has borne?

Though she may forget, I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands.”
~ God, Isaiah 49:1, 6, 15

It's really weird I was driving around in the rain, talking to a friend of mine, and I realized how much I have changed. Now I'm not sure if this is a good change or a bad change, but it's a change. I've come to the realization that letting go of people has become a little bit more easier in my life than it was before.

Growing up I was always trying to fix a situation. Always making the effort to make sure it is kept together, but now I'm just whatever about things. It feels good in a strange way.

Simply put:
 Don't let what GOD has called you to do distract you from what GOD has called you to do- Brian Houston.

How is it that your life can change so much and still feel like it's the same.

A friend of mine texted me today and as we were catching up I reminded her that her one year wedding anniversary is coming up. Then I thought back to to year ago, and I felt a bit sad. Since then not only did my brother get married, so did this friend of mine, and my best friend. In the outer corner of marriage I stand. I've never had a problem with being single, but why is that married people make you feel like you don't belong with them sometimes. Right before my bff got married I started to sense change in our relationship. The way we communicated, how much we communicated, what we talked about etc. She went from the girl I always called to the girl who barely knows what's going in my life. I keep hearing she's busy, and I get frustrated, and I express my frustration, but we fall back into the same limbo a few weeks after the talk.

I'm not married, so someone please tell me why is that once you are married (and have been married for awhile) you can't talk to your friends. Make time for them. I totally get that your priorities change, and I don't mind being shifted in schedule, but what am I to do when I'm not in the schedule at all? I remember thinking once that if I were to move back home it would probably because of my bff. So I can be closer to her....now I think...who am I going to move back for? Where would I fit in? If I wanted to go to work and back to my own place...well I do that in Houston...I don't need to drive another 41/2 hours to do the same thing in another city.

Oh Honey!

Sometimes working around my boss I feel like I work at a zoo...LITERALLY! My boss is no stranger to animal...cats, dogs, birds, mini ponies, llamas....I KID YOU NOT! Working with her I most times tend to encounter a cat or two.

I love her animals FOR THE MOST PART. One of my favorites is her cat Honey. Honey is very lovable, but at the same time she is VERY clingy. Honey often visits me in my office, and lays around. I often joke around and say "In my next life time I'm coming back as one of the bosses pets". Every time I see every single one of her pets they are just lounging around, enjoying the day, taking in the sun etc. I can't help but be a bit envious. Now you know you  have hit rock bottom when you are a bit envious of a cat. I thought "WOW they have it made...they don't have to worry about a thing"

Cue scripture reminder from GOD:

²⁵ “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?²⁶ Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? ²⁷ Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life^[e]?

²⁸ “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. ²⁹ Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. ³⁰ If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? ³¹ So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’³² For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. ³³ But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. ³⁴ Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

As I watched Honey sa-shay out of my office I thought....how much more valuable are you? He's already told me I am far more valuable than the bird or a cat, but I sit here worrying day in and day out. How am I going to pay this bill? Do I have enough clothes for this occasion? What am I gonna eat for dinner?

Why? Obviously Honey got a revelation that took me way longer. 

Hands & Feet

How many times have you heard the saying "To be the hands and feet of Jesus"

How many songs is it written in?

Now how many times have you or I actually taken the effort to make it happen.

The other day I was driving with an acquaintance, and we got on the subject of exclusivity. We were talking about church of course. In the past 15 years I have gone to 5 different churches (on a somewhat regular base), and visited way too many to count. In those years I think of all the exclusivity that went on with each church. Now if was a majority Caucasian church I won't lie they were pretty open, and welcoming, but if it was a minority church my brother and I weren't so lucky. After service he and I would stand in the corner while mom and dad talked to aunties and uncles. We hated visiting certain (ethnic group) churches with them, but there was one Indian church that actually left an impression on my life. To this day I can't recall the name of the church or of the girl who left this impression, but because of her I do certain things differently now. As usual my parents were gallivanting around talking to everyone while my brother and I stood aside wondering when this ordeal will be over. Under our breathe we kept telling each other how much we disliked situation like this when our parents dragged us to minority churches where no one even so much as said "hello" to us. As we stood there we were approached by a young lady a few years older than me, and she smiled so big it made me feel a little better. She introduced her and asked us about ourselves. That in itself was a huge ice breaker now the next step wasn't necessary nor were we expecting it. She called over all her friends within our age group and started introducing my brother and I to them. You see she could have just introduced herself been nice and moved on with her life, but she made sure she went beyond just being "nice". Because she did just that I made sure I started to do that myself. I would have never met my now famous "ex-husband" (not really married) Brice had it not been for that act. Brice came to visit the Indian church I was attending at the time. All the females I hung out with were just gushing over how cute he was. After service I told them well go talk to him, but none of them wanted too. I looked over at Brice and he had a look on his face that I knew all too well. Without a bit of hesitation I walked over to him and introduced myself, because I knew exactly what it felt like to come to a church where you knew nothing or no body. After a few mins the rest of the ladies walked over, and I introduced them to him. Though we don't talk every week like we used too, or text each other as often as we used too the reason I know him today is because I decided to extend the same hand that was extended to me. To this day because of that girl I make it a point to either smile or say hello to anyone I see at church that I have not seen around before. Unfortunately to this day the very people that say they want to be the hands and feet of Christ still hold on to their exclusivity. For example; the church I currently attend. I love my church dearly, but I remember when I first came there no one in my age group so much as looked my way. I would come to church sit in the back pew and go home. Six years later I'm not going to lie I still feel the exclusivity. Now I know people, but really that's the end of the it. So many times it has taken much prayer for me not to leave, and go to a church where I did feel like people were more open to me (but I digress)

The one thing I've learned (recently) is that when you are the hands and feet of Christ you have to put yourself in a position that would possibly make you uncomfortable. That means you have to reach out, and bring people into your circle. UNFORTUNATELY I've also learned in the last couple of years that most people already have their circle, and it's very rare for them to let any one else in (Oh GOD it's high school all over again!!!). The truth of the matter is a lot of people feel justified in how they treat this situation. They say "well I'm not the type of person to really reach out". Neither am I *points to self*. But then who's going to do it? If you and I don't....who's going to be that CITY ON THE HILL??