Changing our Vocabulary: Truth vs. Lies

Not long ago, a 9-year old friend of mine started responding to correction, discouragement, fatigue, or mistakes with, "I can't do good." Voice cracking, heavy sighing, and shoulders falling-- he believed this statement and gave up. If he were using towels, his room would be covered in them. 

At first I tried to turn his frown upside down with sweet talk and syrupy reinforcement. What do you mean? You're doing great! Don't give up, you're almost done! Rah! Rah! Rah!

When that didn't work I tried to ignore the phrase entirely and keep positive momentum. I explained how we all make mistakes but it's getting back up that matters. Cool, calm, rational. 

But when "I can't do good" moved from quiet heartbreak to pounding fists and stomping feet, I decided to meet it head-on. That phrase is not allowed anymore, I said. Do not let it come out of your mouth again. I didn't know what this was, but I knew it was not going to win. 

Driving home that night I thought about my life. About writing and working, about failures and unmet expectations. I felt antsy and angsty, shaking my head at myself, cowering in the face of others popping in and out of my mind. "You'll never be good enough, you're no expert," I heard them say. "You can't finish anything," "You stay in your box; this is my turf," "Ohhh, I'm sorry it's so hard for you." They glared at me, smug, condescending. I hated them. I hated myself. And then I heard my own heart say it: I can't do good. 

"You see?" His voice, clear and gentle, brought me back to the present. "You say it too, and it sounds terrible."

I did hear and I did see. With my heart sinking down to my toes I thought back to Thomas and, for the first time, started to discern the toxicity of our negative statements. Coming from him--precious, hard-working, autism-challenged him, "I can't do good" made me want to cry and wash his mouth out with soap. Not as punishment, but because those words were like poison, eating away at his mind and stealing away his hope; I wanted it away from him.  

Who told you that? I wanted to scream. Who would tell him such a thing? I puzzled. And then I remembered who. The one with no boundaries when it comes to stealing, killing, and destroying. The enemy, the father of lies. 

My mind revisited the unpleasant faces and voices from earlier, from my own life, and started talking each thing through with God. 

I feel like she hates me; like she loves to see me fail. We can't be friends. 

I feel like I really can't do well at that. I've tried and it doesn't last. 

I feel overwhelmed by this. It's too stressful and too tough.  

I feel like a nobody. I can't do good. 

Coming from me--messy, had-my-chance, not-sure-what's-coming-next me, "I/he/she/we can't do good" made me want to cry and marinate in the tears. 

Then I heard Him ask, "What's the truth behind those feelings?" After a blank moment I shrugged the question back His way, What is the truth behind my feelings? As if I'd asked for the secret behind a magic trick, step by step He flipped on the lights, exposing  what was real and what was not. 

The heart is deceitful above all things, 

and it is exceedingly perverse and corrupt and severely, mortally sick! 

Who can know it [perceive, understand, be acquainted with his own heart and mind]? 

Jeremiah 17:9 (AMP)

Our hearts, our feelings, unchecked by Truth, are not trustworthy. From some little suggestion I start to believe lies about myself and others. Based on these lies I begin to feel things--inappropriate things created by smoke and mirrors. Out of misplaced feelings I act (or failed to act). 

Thinking back to Thomas, I realized he, too, was believing a lie, feeling the effects, and acting out. I was fighting something when I'd said, "no more," and I knew I needed to start battling for my own heart as well. Why? Because when we allow lies to run laps from our minds to our hearts, out of our mouths, and back to our minds, we stop growing. Period. When we allow lies to dictate our attitudes and actions, we fall right into the "kill, steal & destroy" plan; we render ourselves useless, lifeless, paralyzed by figments of our imagination, we hold tightly to smeared images of others and let relationships fall to ruins. We need to do the hard work, not only of identifying our feelings but, of tracking down the truth and adjusting our responses, emotional and physical. You were freed from a life of slavery. It is worth the battle to claim your freedom. 

In [this] freedom Christ has made us free [and completely liberated us]; 

stand fast then, and do not be hampered and held ensnared and submit again to a yoke of slavery [which you have once put off]. 

Galatians 5:1 (AMP)

In the past two weeks I've maintained my rule about not uttering the phrase. Thomas and I have worked out a list of things he can say instead, things like, "I'm having a hard time," "I'm going to keep trying," "Oops, I messed up; now I know what to do." I remind him how smart and able and hardworking and brave he is. We have to repeat these things every day, but little by little the darkness is pushed back by truth's light. 

In my own quiet time I've started keeping a close eye on the frolicking of my mind, sometimes saying out loud, "that's not real" or "that's not true" when old feelings resurface (completely normal, right?). And I pray: Lord, would you please quiet my mind and fill it with your truth? Would you please flood my heart with your love for me and for others? May your love cover over a multitude of sins and heal all of my wounds. Would you show me in real life the truth I need to see? On more than one occasion, after praying something like this, I've received an email, call or text relieving my fears, releasing me (and others) from the lies. 

What feelings are consuming you lately? What statements frequent your speech?

What lie set those feelings ablaze and is burning down your life, relationships, health, spiritual walk, dreams, maturity/personal growth? 

What phrase(s) do you need to remove from your vocabulary right now? What truth can you replace it with? 

I don't know if this is the same with you, but in studying my go-to statements I've learned that hurt and disappointment are the most common breeding grounds for lies and misguided feelings. Sometimes I build a case against people based on circumstantial evidence following a direct hit. Self-defense. Everything he says or doesn't say "supports" my case and shapes my heart. It's not good. But sometimes, sometimes, the injury is real--by no means alleged, suspected, or assumed. Sometimes there is no opportunity to look her in the eyes and say, "that really hurt," and so I bury it and mark it with stones that inevitably grow moldy. Sometimes my feelings are based on real events, but it's still our responsibility to work through forgiveness, seek understanding, remember compassion, and let God's love be the perfect salve. 

I know you wouldn't allow your best friend or child to poison himself; decide to stop taking it down and spewing it out, yourself. Maybe you need to call someone and ask, "Is everything okay with us?"; squash those lies that have walled you in. Maybe you need to say "no" to that negative voice that talks you out of pursuing anything good or healthy. Maybe you need to know how wide and deep, how unconditional and unfailing is your Father's love for you. He would love to show you; He waits to arm you with truth. 

Why Unfinished Stories Matter

Once upon a time, my husband and I were invited to a dinner party. A gathering of friends pooling together a spread of dishes and enjoying each other's company. Additionally, we were asked to think of an inspirational story to share after dinner.

If I remember correctly, many of the stories may have warranted Oscar-worthy scores. The beautiful melodies, dramatic crescendos and swells, sweet conclusions of pleasant harmonies and definitive ending notes. We rode the waves together, our souls resting peacefully with each closure.

And then my husband shared about meeting with a friend for coffee that week. This was the story (I am not quoting exactly):

I had coffee with a friend this week and he was telling me how God's been leading him and his wife lately. He's in school and looking for a job to support his wife and baby-on-the-way. They'd been praying about work and both felt really strongly that he shouldn't accept the next offer he received [for reasons unspecified]. Sure enough, he got a call a few days later with a job offer and, even though it was really hard and didn't make a lot of sense, he turned it down. And that's basically the story.

**crickets chirping**

Someone broke the silence, I thought you were going to say that the next day he got a better offer and it all made sense. **low chuckles of agreement and confusion**

Chris:

Nope. There was no call, no new direction, and no reason from God about why he couldn't have accepted that offer. I know there's no real end to the story, but I was really inspired by it--it stuck with me all week--because of their faith, because they're waiting and being obedient even though it doesn't make sense at all.

Friends, I don't think there's a Hollywood soundtrack for this. If this is how a film ended, it would be smeared with truly rotten tomatoes by critics and audiences alike. We seem to tolerate a weak beginning or middle as long as we have closure. Unless, as in Chris's story and last year's film, The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug (otherwise known as The Hobbit: part 2 of 3) there is no real ending...because you know it's the middle of a 3-part, complete story. It had no ending because it's not the end!

I love that Chris saw this in our friend's story. What else did he see? Himself. Me. Us. He was inspired to keep persevering when it doesn't make sense and when answers don't seem to come and when people around us think we're morons for not taking action into our own hands. He saw the true beauty of obedience and was reminded that this is not the end of the story.

It would do us  all a world of good to stop hiding in the unfinished middle of our stories and start sharing the tension, the grit, and the irrational. Why do we keep such a tight lid on our trials and plans? Why do we wait until we've reached a satisfactory "end" to reveal what's been happening?

Here are some of my reasons. (I warn you, none of them are good.) 

I keep my unfinished business to myself when:

*my emotional response to circumstances is so terribly raw I'm afraid I will push people away. You can't handle the truth! kind of stuff. 

*my situation is the polar opposite of people around me and I believe the only responses I'll get are blank stares, stupid cliches, and unsolicited advice. And I'll be labeled as a social pariah. I choose: none of the above. 

*I'm not 100% convinced God is going to do what (I think) He said and I don't want to look dumb if it doesn't work out. Yikes, but true. 

*circumstances have me completely in the dark and I have no words to describe, share, hope, or praise during that time. 

*I have an end goal in mind and don't want anyone to get in my way with their opinions, reactions, or conflicting plans. I'll let them know when it's done and then, what can they do?

Pride, fear, and self-absorption, plain and simple. Deceptive, destructive.  

No one likes to admit he's struggling or feeling devastated by thwarted plans. Out of our mouths fly a variety of "no sweat" explanations for why it's not that bad, how we expected this and are armed with Plans B-through-W. Or we stay quiet and refuse to let on. 

As neighbors and friends, we divert our eyes from dirty laundry airing next door and tell ourselves it's to protect their dignity. We'll smile and nod approvingly when their yard has been cleared and mowed and re-lanscaped. All's well that ends well!

But in waiting for the end--be it fairytale, predictable, or divinely miraculous--we all miss out on seeing what makes the end so sweet. Let me tell you, you who are in the middle, thinking about giving up, and trying to walk it alone: God is in the middle. You and I know that these trials are not the stuff of textbooks or survival handbooks. This is the stuff of Psalms, of Daniel in the lion's den, of the prophets, and of Paul in chains. In the midst of the fire we choose our identity: Burned or Refined. In the middle mire we learn Who's in control, we see what's real, we learn the hard lessons of trust. 

This part of the story must be told. From those who are going through it, we need to learn the posture of humility and the depth of perseverance. Fragrant laments teach us about faithfulness, their melodies stretch our perspective. We need to learn to recognize the fruit that blooms from obedience. We have an opportunity to speak into the unfinished and say, Don't be afraid! This is not the end! I see God with you! There is no freedom in pride, no faith in fear, no surrender in self-absorption. Open up and share; sit down and listen. 

I pray that we will recognize God in an unfinished story this week and find inspiration from the work that's being done. I hope you will have fresh eyes for your own unfinished story and be emboldened to share it now and stop waiting for the socially-acceptable ending. And I hope that when you reach the end of your story, you will only be able to point to God as having been its author, perfecter and finisher.

While You Wait: Strengthen Your Core

Waiting can be utterly exhausting. Prolonged suspense, failed attempts, seemingly missed opportunities, an endless string of red lights drain you. 

Have you ever lowered yourself to the ground in push-up position? {not as often as you try to avoid it, right? I'm with you.} Have you propped yourself up in push-up position and just h.e.l.d...i.t...t.h.e.r.e...?

It's harder than it looks. 

Waiting is not passive--it is no place for twiddling thumbs, wishing on dandelions, or complacent recline. Waiting is a posture of suspension and focus. With eyes fixed straight ahead and heads lifted, we breathe deeply, we engage our core. And we hold. 

According to Mayo Clinic, strengthening the muscles surrounding the pelvis and trunk ("the core")  improves balance and stability for exercise and daily activity. About.com credits a strong core with stabilizing the spine and creating "a solid base of support" enabling "powerful movements of the extremities." When your arms start to shake and collapse seems imminent you have to rely on the strength of your core. When you feel your toes slipping beneath you your mind needs to know that your base is solid. 

It's in this state of suspension that we gain strength. It's in this holding pattern that we learn perseverance. It's in this posture--low to the ground--that we understand humility and begin to see wisdom. 

I very much enjoy running. Not so much the first mile, or the third, or the tenth, but all the steps in between allow me to exercise the wisdom I've gained from emotional & spiritual long-suffering and invite my body to endure likewise. The same is true in reverse: often times lessons gleaned from running--hurdles jumped and walls broken through--come to mind when I find myself faced with a new trial. In my experience, resilience and stamina are the by-products of a sturdy midsection, a secure identity at the center of my being. 

Trials and marathons test the strength of your core. They expose your weaknesses and push you to draw from a well deep within. You may be able to run some hills with the strength of your calves, you might be successful for a time by chanting, I think I can, I think I can. But when you realize you are in a state of suspension and control escapes you, you will need to lean on the inner strength that only comes from God. 

  

Most likely you've got some time on your hands, don't wait to strengthen your base. Instead, while you wait, here are some exercises for stabilizing your spiritual spine (aka: backbone, courage of convictions column) and building a solid support base for enduring emotional and spiritual trials. 

1. Center yourself in Christ. Seek The Giver, not the gift. Enter into relationship with Him, humbly acknowledging that apart from Him you can do nothing, but by His strength you can do all things. Get to know His purpose for your life, His dreams for you. Let Him plant you to flourish in His courts. Stand firm, grounded by His unfailing love for you. 

2. Love Others. When you're struggling and tired, when you feel thoroughly mauled and discouraged it's easy to become self-centered if you're not actively seeking a neighbor to love to the degree that you love yourself. You cry out with "unprecedented" depths of despair, wallowing in comparison and feelings of helplessness. Your core gets mushy and giggly from sweet & salty bites of comfort. But this will not do. Nope, it's time to wipe the crumbs off your shirt and engage in meaningful relationship with others. So you don't have it all figured out--neither do they--but despite what's happening in your life  His grace is sufficient for you. After all, it is more blessed to give than to receive. 

3. Renew your mind with His Word; be transformed by His truth. When you're holding a deep squat or pushing through that 3-mile wall it's the Truth that will keep you upright. When negative thoughts flood your mind: I can't do this, I've never been good at this, I'm too tired, I want to quit, What's the point anyway? you must stomp out every lie with the truth. You must know who you are in Christ and believe that He is strengthening your frame and widening your path. You must replace the old potty-talk with His words and allow them to transform and refine. When you plop down into push-up position and declare, "I'm telling you, my arms are not that strong!" and your trainer looks you square in the eyes and says, "Your arms are not that weak," it changes you. You won't make it through hardship with positive self-talk based on self-reliance; you will, however, find sustenance in every word of God. 

4. Examine your life and allow God to make good use of this time. Waiting is not about punishment or condemnation. It is not a sign of God-forsakenness or a game of favorites. Countless stories in the Bible indicate that prolonged waiting and severe trials are often precious times of preparation, redemption, provision, and refinement; very personal attention from God. Examination and exercise are not means of earning that thing you're waiting for; both demonstrate humility and reverence for The One who has called you into this desert for a very specific reason. Engage in His plan and use your time wisely. Ask Him to examine your heart and reveal any bad seeds He'd like to uproot and replace with fruit seeds. Lift up every area of your life and seek His will--daily priorities, relationships, the food you eat, physical ailments, future dreams. Keep your eyes focused on your own path and let Him guide your steps. 

When your feet start throbbing and your shoulder muscles burn, remember that your core is strong. When the going gets tough, remember who you are. When you don't know how much longer you have to hold the posture and sweat threatens to steal your grip, take a deep breath and tell yourself it's not over yet. In trial, steady your mind on the truth. Consider the firm foundation of Christ at your center, enjoy the blessings of loving others, recall the power of your mind renewed by His Word, rest in the purity of a life examined and shaped by God. 

While you wait, strengthen your core. Don't waste your time raging against what might have been, resisting the special call to be trained by God. Engage your core. And hold. 

Why I'm Still Dreaming

I'm not sure what you're dreaming about or believing for but I know perseverance is no walk in the park. 

{Unless your neighborhood park is comprised of dim and lonely narrow roads, sparsely vegetated and frequented by hecklers.}

Laying down precious dreams and believing that they will return to me more perfectly shaped, timed, and purposed than I ever could have planned is no small gesture. Surrender requires courage and willingness to enter into the Unknown. Trust requires complete fixation on Truth, Love, and Hope. Perseverance is not a straight-road jog as much as it is a sweaty run through a muddy, snake-infested obstacle course. 

To others this dreaming & believing can seem ridiculous. Irrational, illogical, lazy, idealistic, uncomfortable and inconvenient for them as Community. Why would you keep believing for something you're not seeing? When will you face the facts? They miss the {vast} forest for the trees. 

I can't explain why. I can't begin to fathom how. I certainly can't predict when. 

I just know Who, and I know He is able. 

Things don't always turn out the way I'd originally dreamed, and letting go is constant loss. But maybe some dreams were meant all along to be much bigger than I knew; a beautiful opportunity for Him to become greater and me to become less.

This is where heaven and earth collide:

I lift my hands, I give my life.

This is how my weary heart stays alive.

The Redeemer, song by Sanctus Real (below)

I still dream because I still believe. 

I believe God is who he says he is. 

I believe He is able to do immeasurably more than I can imagine. 

I believe He is faithful. 

I believe He honors those who love him and do not give up. 

Be encouraged, weary and faithful ones. He sees you, He sees me. Our dreams, our lives are in His hands and we will not be disappointed.