It's as easy as yoga!

No, I've never tried yoga. And it looks hard. Not to mention the idea of being that little clothed while sweating and breathing so close to others just makes me shiver! But I've been stretched quite a few times throughout my life.

While in the midst of needing some much needed income I threw my back out on the job in the summer of 2006. The pain was intensely outrageous. It was sharp like a needle piercing from my lower back sending sharp pulses down through both of my legs and into my feet. The slightest movement made my face contort and my teeth grit. Standing up took every ounce of energy and concentration. Turning, twisting or bending over was impossible. Needless to say, I was not able to work to earn that much needed income. Today I look back and see how I was stretched in more than one way during that experience and how I missed the mark for that opportunity for that possible preparation for things that were soon to come.

I saw the doctor who had me do physical therapy. I knew what that entailed and what was coming. The thought of purposely working my back made cringe and I wasn't looking forward to it. Besides, I already spent pretty much all my time lying down because of the pain. But it was better than a quick fix of muscle relaxers and pain meds.

The Problems with Forgiveness

The problem with forgiveness.

Problems with forgiveness? That just seems unfathomable. Forgiveness is freedom for the forgiver and the receiver. Forgiveness is releasing. One hundred percent of the time our forgiveness is waiting upon our forgiving. There is power in forgiveness.

Those weights are lifted off our shoulders and the steps we walk are lightened. We see things differently, in a new light. Our expectations from others are no longer self-serving. We no longer seek to have our voids filled from others. And trying to fill our voids is draining. They never get filled.

Christ said, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.” He knew we are not capable of carrying around the weights of hurts and offenses for long. He knew they would suffocate our joy and peace. He knew they would hinder our relationship with Him and block our prayers from being answered. He knew and strongly taught the dependence of our sins being forgiven depended upon us forgiving others.

Did I miss Christ this Christmas?

I see Christmas through the world’s eye

I have to confess; I don’t know if this is a rant or more of a profession of confusion out of desperation. There are things weighing heavily on my mind and in my heart. Maybe, hopefully there will be cohesion within these words rather than them winding up being some kind of mixed up hodgepodge that doesn’t make sense. I’m liable to step on some toes. Sometimes I have a knack for rubbing people the wrong way. Usually it’s those that are reluctant to slide out of their comfort zone. But I’ve never been one to not speak what I have to say as long as it’s worth saying and that maybe something will come out of it.

Today of all days, in spite of how much I love this day, was a stressful day for me. Not necessarily in regards to this blog, though to an extent some. At the end of the day I sat at the edge of the bed exhausted, reflecting over the whole day thinking, “What just happened?”

I am an Epistle

In my last blog I made the proclamation that when we find ourselves in the midst of one of life’s crossroads we are forced to confront the reality of where we have been. Why? Isn’t the ultimate goal to turn from our past? Shouldn’t I just focus on moving towards the future God has planned for me? 

An epistle is basically defined as a formal letter. In 2 Corinthians 3:2-3 Paul reveals to us that “we are epistles, written on hearts, known and read by everyone, revealing that we are letters of Christ, being delivered, written not with ink but by the Spirit of the living God, not on stone tablets, but on the tablets of human hearts.”

I have kept a journal for well almost ten years. My initial intentions were to simply keep a recorded log for my children to have of me after I pass on. I wanted to walk them through the worlds that I live in that are so often off limits to outsiders. Verbal words can only express so much, especially to a young child growing up. I wanted to provide them written expressions of myself. When I pass on I want to leave them my words. Words I forgot to say. Words I didn’t say enough. I want the weight off of their shoulders because they know of the depression episodes that sometimes would be accompanied by suicidal thoughts. I want them to know I was inside, behind those blank eyes.

I want them to know it was the mania that they couldn’t move enough for and not me. And that it wasn’t everything thing they did that aggravated me, that it was the mania. When they read my journals I want them to know I did my best and I fought hard so that if there are any resentments for my failures they will know it was the bipolar.

Caution: Street Signs Out of Order

When it comes to making decisions in life there are a number of analogies used to describe the dilemma. There’s only one place I know where it’s possible for confusion and dis-satisfaction to co-exist with a place where the possibilities are not only endless but exciting as well. It is such a sound and fitting analogy Christ took advantage of it on more than one occasion. (But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and a few find it—Matt 7:14; 13:4,19; Mar 4:4,15; Luke 1:79; 8:8,12)

I’m at my own crossroads in my life right now. I’m conflicted with what to do about school and which career or even whether or not to complete my graduate degree. Ever since Christ cleaned my act up and put me back together I handed my will over to him. I stopped pursuing my plans for my life. I did however enroll back in school. It was just something I had been doing and since I had to withdraw enrolled for the Fall. However, no classes were offered in my field that I , but Ihadn’t already taken so I enrolled in a couple of counseling classes that I thought would be interesting. I wonder if that should be my first clue? During the semester I kept trying to figure out how I was going to complete the requirements for my degree because of my “record” that I had incurred during my last two years of drinking.