This is a scene from Parenthood. I like it.
SM - I was still high from the Little League game. Isn't it demented that a grown man's happiness is dependent on whether or not a 9 yr old catches a pop up? What if he missed?
MS - But he didn't.
SM - He could have.
MS - But he didn't.
SM - But he could have.
MS - But he didn't, Gill. You threw him 12 million pop ups in the backyard. You cut the odds considerably.
SM - There's 3 of them and you want to have a fourth. The 4th one could be Larry and they're gonna do alot of things. Baseball is the least of them. In all those things, sometimes they're gonna miss.
MS - Sometimes they won't.
SM - Sometimes they will. Sometimes they will.
MS - Well, what do you want me to give you? Guarantees? These are kids not appliances. Life is messy.
SM - I hate messy. It's so...messy.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Identity
This has been on my mind lately, so I figure this is the best way to get it off.
“Identity is defined as the condition of being oneself, and not another.” (taken from the web somewhere) So basically being one thing and not something else, i.e. a rabbit is a rabbit and not a dog. Complicated, I know.
So why am I thinking about rabbits and dogs? I’m not really. But I am thinking about my own identity. Who/what do I identify with? I’ve been asking myself this question a lot lately as I’m beginning a new journey and leaving another behind. My new journey is going to be a Stay at Home Mom/Wife (SAHM/W). I’m looking forward to it with great anticipation, excitement, longing and fear and trepidation. What am I going to do with a 1 year old all day, every day? How will I keep from wanting to burn my house down b/c I’m sick of looking at it? (Now I’m sure Mike is in fear and trepidation.) How will I teach her all she needs to know for this life? How will I not get up and get dressed for work? How will I get things done? How will I . . .? I dunno. But I’m going to try.
The journey I’m leaving behind is being a Victim Advocate. I enjoy my job and have taken great pride in it. However, I have to be honest about something. I’m embarrassed to admit, but I might actually be a little bit of a Badge Bunny. If you are unfamiliar with this term, it is used with certain types of females (we all know them) who volunteer or work for police departments to chase the badge or be in the know. They aren’t really there for any other reason except to get a date, flirt or get the scoop. Yes, I’m married to a cop but I didn’t really chase the badge to get my job (now I just get to chase it for fun), so that leaves being in the know. At times it’s nice knowing more than the public and realizing how little people truly know about or want to know human nature in its raw, depraved form. It’s really fun knowing more than the media puts out there and seeing how quickly people eat it up and believe it. Trust me, the media doesn’t know jack or ever report things as they really are, but that’s another soapbox. Well, maybe the term doesn't apply to me b/c it definitely isn't the reason I do this job, but it is a perk.
Anyway, I worry that when I am no longer a VA what will I be. When I’m no longer helping victims of crime, what will I be? When I’m no longer using my psychological skills on cases and studying human behavior, what will I be? When I’m no longer in the know, what will I do? Am I going to lose my mind, and not in the haha funny way? More in the I paid a lot of money and still am to become brain dead. This is why identity has been on my mind. This is another reason why I think it is good that I walk away – to find the answer.
(If you are a SAHM, please do not think that I think you are brain dead. Please do not take my comments personal. They are not meant towards anyone but me. This is about my insanity.)
I pause here b/c I know it is possible to think such things as isn’t her identity in Christ Jesus and when did she lose that or she’s on a slippery trail. Well, yes, I didn’t lose it and I don’t think so. Yes, my Identity is in Christ in that I am His child and He is my God, Savior and Life. In addition, He also made me with gifts and talents and I believe one of those has been helping people in the capacity that I have been. So actually no, I’m not questioning this side of who I am. Maybe they can’t be separated or shouldn’t be, but has anyone mastered that this side of heaven? If so, please let the rest of us in on it. This type of Identity search is when everything is stripped away and nothing is left, then who am I? On that kind of search/question, you bet my Identity is in Christ and it stands on its own. But I’m not questioning my Identity but my identity. Follow?
So back to my question of identity. If I’m not a VA, then what am I? If you can’t tell, I don’t have an answer. I know I can answer, “well, I’m a mom, a wife and friend.” Yes, I am and that is part of my identity but I’m taking a big piece of it away and it’s that piece that I wonder what it will look like empty. How will I cope with that void? Will I even need to cope? Maybe not. Ever since we made the decision to leave, my stress level has lowered to levels I didn’t know existed. It’s been nice. I know there is an end to the stress, inconsistent schedule, on call, long days, not seeing my husband except for just an hour or two and so on. I look forward to this, but I also know me. I know that as much as I look forward to this new journey, I don’t look forward to the loss of the other. Of course, I don’t do well with loss, so maybe that is another aspect of this. Who knows?!
Well, like I said I don’t have an answer. This is truly a rambling put on paper b/c it is hurting my head rattling around every so often. I guess my answer will come August 21st or shortly there after as that is my last ‘official’ day. See, I say official because I volunteered to come back and help out a couple of weeks in September. There you have it, my neurosis.
The journey continues….
“Identity is defined as the condition of being oneself, and not another.” (taken from the web somewhere) So basically being one thing and not something else, i.e. a rabbit is a rabbit and not a dog. Complicated, I know.
So why am I thinking about rabbits and dogs? I’m not really. But I am thinking about my own identity. Who/what do I identify with? I’ve been asking myself this question a lot lately as I’m beginning a new journey and leaving another behind. My new journey is going to be a Stay at Home Mom/Wife (SAHM/W). I’m looking forward to it with great anticipation, excitement, longing and fear and trepidation. What am I going to do with a 1 year old all day, every day? How will I keep from wanting to burn my house down b/c I’m sick of looking at it? (Now I’m sure Mike is in fear and trepidation.) How will I teach her all she needs to know for this life? How will I not get up and get dressed for work? How will I get things done? How will I . . .? I dunno. But I’m going to try.
The journey I’m leaving behind is being a Victim Advocate. I enjoy my job and have taken great pride in it. However, I have to be honest about something. I’m embarrassed to admit, but I might actually be a little bit of a Badge Bunny. If you are unfamiliar with this term, it is used with certain types of females (we all know them) who volunteer or work for police departments to chase the badge or be in the know. They aren’t really there for any other reason except to get a date, flirt or get the scoop. Yes, I’m married to a cop but I didn’t really chase the badge to get my job (now I just get to chase it for fun), so that leaves being in the know. At times it’s nice knowing more than the public and realizing how little people truly know about or want to know human nature in its raw, depraved form. It’s really fun knowing more than the media puts out there and seeing how quickly people eat it up and believe it. Trust me, the media doesn’t know jack or ever report things as they really are, but that’s another soapbox. Well, maybe the term doesn't apply to me b/c it definitely isn't the reason I do this job, but it is a perk.
Anyway, I worry that when I am no longer a VA what will I be. When I’m no longer helping victims of crime, what will I be? When I’m no longer using my psychological skills on cases and studying human behavior, what will I be? When I’m no longer in the know, what will I do? Am I going to lose my mind, and not in the haha funny way? More in the I paid a lot of money and still am to become brain dead. This is why identity has been on my mind. This is another reason why I think it is good that I walk away – to find the answer.
(If you are a SAHM, please do not think that I think you are brain dead. Please do not take my comments personal. They are not meant towards anyone but me. This is about my insanity.)
I pause here b/c I know it is possible to think such things as isn’t her identity in Christ Jesus and when did she lose that or she’s on a slippery trail. Well, yes, I didn’t lose it and I don’t think so. Yes, my Identity is in Christ in that I am His child and He is my God, Savior and Life. In addition, He also made me with gifts and talents and I believe one of those has been helping people in the capacity that I have been. So actually no, I’m not questioning this side of who I am. Maybe they can’t be separated or shouldn’t be, but has anyone mastered that this side of heaven? If so, please let the rest of us in on it. This type of Identity search is when everything is stripped away and nothing is left, then who am I? On that kind of search/question, you bet my Identity is in Christ and it stands on its own. But I’m not questioning my Identity but my identity. Follow?
So back to my question of identity. If I’m not a VA, then what am I? If you can’t tell, I don’t have an answer. I know I can answer, “well, I’m a mom, a wife and friend.” Yes, I am and that is part of my identity but I’m taking a big piece of it away and it’s that piece that I wonder what it will look like empty. How will I cope with that void? Will I even need to cope? Maybe not. Ever since we made the decision to leave, my stress level has lowered to levels I didn’t know existed. It’s been nice. I know there is an end to the stress, inconsistent schedule, on call, long days, not seeing my husband except for just an hour or two and so on. I look forward to this, but I also know me. I know that as much as I look forward to this new journey, I don’t look forward to the loss of the other. Of course, I don’t do well with loss, so maybe that is another aspect of this. Who knows?!
Well, like I said I don’t have an answer. This is truly a rambling put on paper b/c it is hurting my head rattling around every so often. I guess my answer will come August 21st or shortly there after as that is my last ‘official’ day. See, I say official because I volunteered to come back and help out a couple of weeks in September. There you have it, my neurosis.
The journey continues….
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Priorities
It is funny how the substances of that word changes over time. One moment coffee every morning is a priority and then fresh squeezed juice is the priority. This really isn’t one for me. Coffee is pretty darn important. But it could change.
I write about this because in my life in the last year or so, my priorities have shifted once again. Sleep used to be a priority and now I’m just grateful for what I get. Education was once a priority (one I didn’t care for but knew I had to have to make it through) and then I graduated. Now paying back my student loans is a priority.
But the biggest shift and most surprising (for me anyway) is family life and my job. I love my family and I love my job. My job allows me to reach more people than I ever could imagine. It allows me to help when there is pain or needs to be met. It allows me to see God work in dark and ugly situations that seem completely out of control and out of God’s care. But we are never out of His care and love. It just sometimes hurts like hell. My job allows me to get over myself. One of the core principles we are taught and teach to new advocates is to not be judgmental. I meet people that are not like me. I meet people that smell in really bad unimaginable ways. I meet people that are difficult to like. I meet people that make you want to hit them really hard until some common sense enters their head. I meet people that are nice. I meet people whose lives took a hard hit and they are doing everything to recover but can’t seem to get ahead. I meet people who are affluent. I could go on but I think you get my point. I get to meet all kinds of people and I love it. It is challenging to me. It pulls me out of my comfort zone and usually puts me in a very uncomfortable one. I still love it. I love being able to help people. I love the fight for justice – with those who can fight and for those who can’t.
Recently, our office was hit with a difficult situation, an employee that wasn’t a good or appropriate fit for victim services. But in a discussion with a co-worker I was asked why I disapprove of this employee. My answer was something along the lines of there was no passion for the job or victims. This job takes a lot of passion for what you are doing – without it, you cannot do it. I felt (and with good reason) the employee chose this job for a pay check. I will admit where I work, we make good money. We are lucky in that area. But the response from my co-worker was, “we all do it for a pay check.” I thought and answered, “no, I don’t.” I don’t do my job for a pay check. The money is just a nice extra, and yes, it helps and I work hard for it (ok, sometimes). But I don’t do this for the money. I do this because I have passion for people and for justice.
Until recently…that is. I am once again seeing my priorities shift. I love my family. I have a beautiful daughter that is everything to me and her father. She is so much fun to watch life happen through her eyes. I love watching her face light up as I enter a room or when her daddy gets home. The smile from a child will melt any heart and the laughter of a child can brighten the darkest of days. I’ve never seen a child under, I’ll say, age 4 laugh and not get an adult, teen, whoever to not at the very least smile if not laugh also. It is a drug, an intoxication that cannot be bought on the street or stores. There is nothing like it in all the world. Maybe that is what heaven is like – the laughter of a child. I want to see her discover life, her world around her, the backyard, the front yard, the play ground, bugs, the ocean, and so on. I don’t want to miss a moment, and yet moments are passing me by.
I love my husband. I even like my husband. I say that because I think liking is just as important as loving. If you don’t like someone, you probably don’t love them either. I love spending time with him. He makes me laugh. He spoils me silly. He is a good man. We may not always see eye to eye or have certain topics in common, but we still make it work, by the grace of God. He rubs my feet almost every day!! Can I tell you how wonderful and amazing that is to find in a man??? He started this with my pregnancy to help keep the swelling down in my feet and ankles and I thought it would stop after she was born. NOPE! Aren’t I the lucky one?
I’m sure there are some who would read that and say, “Lucky? Are you crazy? So he rubs your feet. He doesn’t believe in God or has turned his back on God. That isn’t lucky.” Well, maybe that isn’t lucky, but you see I don’t believe that God has abandoned my husband or our marriage. It is by the grace of God that our marriage is what it is. It is by His strength that we make it day to day, just as it is for both believing spouses. God loves me and God loves my husband, very much. So yes, aren’t I the lucky one!
But our family life is really hard right now. I work 9 hour days so I can have every other Wednesday off in order to have a day off with my husband. He works the grave yard shift and weekends. He is law enforcement and he puts his life on the line when he puts on his uniform. He goes to work usually on Friday nights and ends his work week on Tuesday mornings. My Little One goes to daycare for almost 10 hrs a day, except for Wednesdays and that is to give time for her and her dad. But when she gets home in the evenings, we have about 2 hrs to get her fed, bathed, play a little, give a bottle and put to bed by her bed time. Two hrs a day!
I began to look at our schedule one day and take account for the quality of life and it came up short. I love my job but I love, value and miss my family. What this all means, time will tell, but my priorities have shifted once again. It may mean new challenges, new sacrifices or whatever I can’t even see yet. But I say bring it on. By the grace of God, we can do whatever is needed. I’ve gotten the privilege of seeing God act in the lives of people over the last 4 yrs, so I know that He still acts. He meets people where they are and He will meet us. I have faith.
How are your priorities? What drives you? A shift in priorities maybe just what is needed or the day may sneak up on you when they changed and you didn’t even know it. I like those days. It makes me smile to realize I can still be surprised, even by myself.
I write about this because in my life in the last year or so, my priorities have shifted once again. Sleep used to be a priority and now I’m just grateful for what I get. Education was once a priority (one I didn’t care for but knew I had to have to make it through) and then I graduated. Now paying back my student loans is a priority.
But the biggest shift and most surprising (for me anyway) is family life and my job. I love my family and I love my job. My job allows me to reach more people than I ever could imagine. It allows me to help when there is pain or needs to be met. It allows me to see God work in dark and ugly situations that seem completely out of control and out of God’s care. But we are never out of His care and love. It just sometimes hurts like hell. My job allows me to get over myself. One of the core principles we are taught and teach to new advocates is to not be judgmental. I meet people that are not like me. I meet people that smell in really bad unimaginable ways. I meet people that are difficult to like. I meet people that make you want to hit them really hard until some common sense enters their head. I meet people that are nice. I meet people whose lives took a hard hit and they are doing everything to recover but can’t seem to get ahead. I meet people who are affluent. I could go on but I think you get my point. I get to meet all kinds of people and I love it. It is challenging to me. It pulls me out of my comfort zone and usually puts me in a very uncomfortable one. I still love it. I love being able to help people. I love the fight for justice – with those who can fight and for those who can’t.
Recently, our office was hit with a difficult situation, an employee that wasn’t a good or appropriate fit for victim services. But in a discussion with a co-worker I was asked why I disapprove of this employee. My answer was something along the lines of there was no passion for the job or victims. This job takes a lot of passion for what you are doing – without it, you cannot do it. I felt (and with good reason) the employee chose this job for a pay check. I will admit where I work, we make good money. We are lucky in that area. But the response from my co-worker was, “we all do it for a pay check.” I thought and answered, “no, I don’t.” I don’t do my job for a pay check. The money is just a nice extra, and yes, it helps and I work hard for it (ok, sometimes). But I don’t do this for the money. I do this because I have passion for people and for justice.
Until recently…that is. I am once again seeing my priorities shift. I love my family. I have a beautiful daughter that is everything to me and her father. She is so much fun to watch life happen through her eyes. I love watching her face light up as I enter a room or when her daddy gets home. The smile from a child will melt any heart and the laughter of a child can brighten the darkest of days. I’ve never seen a child under, I’ll say, age 4 laugh and not get an adult, teen, whoever to not at the very least smile if not laugh also. It is a drug, an intoxication that cannot be bought on the street or stores. There is nothing like it in all the world. Maybe that is what heaven is like – the laughter of a child. I want to see her discover life, her world around her, the backyard, the front yard, the play ground, bugs, the ocean, and so on. I don’t want to miss a moment, and yet moments are passing me by.
I love my husband. I even like my husband. I say that because I think liking is just as important as loving. If you don’t like someone, you probably don’t love them either. I love spending time with him. He makes me laugh. He spoils me silly. He is a good man. We may not always see eye to eye or have certain topics in common, but we still make it work, by the grace of God. He rubs my feet almost every day!! Can I tell you how wonderful and amazing that is to find in a man??? He started this with my pregnancy to help keep the swelling down in my feet and ankles and I thought it would stop after she was born. NOPE! Aren’t I the lucky one?
I’m sure there are some who would read that and say, “Lucky? Are you crazy? So he rubs your feet. He doesn’t believe in God or has turned his back on God. That isn’t lucky.” Well, maybe that isn’t lucky, but you see I don’t believe that God has abandoned my husband or our marriage. It is by the grace of God that our marriage is what it is. It is by His strength that we make it day to day, just as it is for both believing spouses. God loves me and God loves my husband, very much. So yes, aren’t I the lucky one!
But our family life is really hard right now. I work 9 hour days so I can have every other Wednesday off in order to have a day off with my husband. He works the grave yard shift and weekends. He is law enforcement and he puts his life on the line when he puts on his uniform. He goes to work usually on Friday nights and ends his work week on Tuesday mornings. My Little One goes to daycare for almost 10 hrs a day, except for Wednesdays and that is to give time for her and her dad. But when she gets home in the evenings, we have about 2 hrs to get her fed, bathed, play a little, give a bottle and put to bed by her bed time. Two hrs a day!
I began to look at our schedule one day and take account for the quality of life and it came up short. I love my job but I love, value and miss my family. What this all means, time will tell, but my priorities have shifted once again. It may mean new challenges, new sacrifices or whatever I can’t even see yet. But I say bring it on. By the grace of God, we can do whatever is needed. I’ve gotten the privilege of seeing God act in the lives of people over the last 4 yrs, so I know that He still acts. He meets people where they are and He will meet us. I have faith.
How are your priorities? What drives you? A shift in priorities maybe just what is needed or the day may sneak up on you when they changed and you didn’t even know it. I like those days. It makes me smile to realize I can still be surprised, even by myself.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Trust
This is a loaded word. It means different things or at least changes in degree depending on the situation. My baby trusts that I will catch her when I throw her in the air. Trust that the brakes on my car will work b/c the mechanic checked them and said they would. So trust that the mechanic told the truth. Trusted confidence of a friend, co-worker, pastor/priest, counselor, etc. Trust that Christ was/is/will be all He said. Now I know this one hits ‘faith’ but it is still trust that what you’ve put your Trust in is True. Trust in a spouse as you say I do. Trust in family and that family is safe.
But what happens to Trust when it is broken? I guess again this answer changes in degree depending on the situation. If I drop my baby, she might not let me toss her in the air again by hanging on for dear life, but we still have relationship. If a counselor breaks confidentiality, the relationship is severed. If a spouse breaks the trust of the marriage, several possibilities can occur; heartbreak (a given), separation, and divorce at the worst, but at best also reconciliation. If trust is broken by family members, again it can depend. A relationship may be severed, broken, or again eventually reconciled.
But what happens? These are possible outcomes but what happens to the person whose trust was broken. The outcomes are visible to the world and can be seen by anyone. What about the unseen? What about the doubt, confusion, betrayal, pain, and so on? How do you trust again?
I hear this question daily in many forms, whether spoken or unspoken. “How do I trust the world again after being assaulted”? “How do I trust him/her again after betraying our vows by abusing me?” “How do I trust men again after rape?” “How do I trust my family again after daddy/mommy touched me?” “How do I trust God after this has happened to my loved one?”
I don’t know. Yes, there is my answer. I know, it’s deep. However, I think it is a different process for everyone. Some are able to trust again – maybe too quickly. Some are not able to ever trust again – truly tragic. Granted those are the extreme ends of the pendulum swing. But I think it really happens somewhere in the middle and with each new situation and person. I also think it is the beloved saying, “One day at a time.” Most of the time I really hate little sayings like this, but there is great Truth in this one.
As most of us have had our trust broken, whether by a friend or more like the ways I mentioned above, we have learned how to deal – either in a healthy way or not. I was recently asked by a father whose young son was victimized, "how do I trust God again after this? How could He allow this to happen?" The mother wanted to know, "how do I trust the world again and not gather my children up, keep them home safe with me?" I don’t know.
But it got me to thinking, how do I trust people and the world around me again and again? I didn’t dig my hole, well, ok, but I didn’t stay there. So I dug my hole and I like returning on occasion. I made a nice place. But it’s not a place one can live – and have life abundantly. I’m not a trusting person. In fact, I will go as far to say I don’t really trust anyone to the fullest. (Hopefully, this statement does not hurt anyone as it isn’t meant to. On the other hand, if you know me, then this shouldn’t be a surprise either.) Yet, I have relationships. I’m married and I would say happily. I have friends, siblings, parents, in laws, co-workers and so on. I think they are all good relationships, but I don’t trust. So what is my point in all of this? Uhh, good question.
As this dad was asking me his questions, it reminded me of the book, The Shack. I’m reminded of the scene where Mac, the dad, is angry that God/Papa allowed the murder of his young daughter. And the response is one we know, but is either forgotten in times of trauma/grief or is unacceptable. The answer is Papa didn’t allow the murder. We know He didn’t prevent it, so what did He do? He gave us Freewill long ago in a garden and with that came pain – for both sides.
Freewill – a powerful word. I think we are ok with freewill for ourselves, but not always for other people. I know I want to always have freewill and make decisions, but I can’t honestly say that I’m glad other people have it too. Am I glad that my husband has the freewill to choose to believe or deny there is a God? Not if I’m honest. Am I glad that one day my beautiful child that I love may look at me and say horrible things in anger? Can’t say I look forward to that. Am I glad that those who have broken my trust had the power/freewill to hurt me? No, I’m not. Am I ok that the victims that I work with have been hurt at the hands of another b/c of freewill? No, I’m not.
So basically, I want to be a dictator. Ok, not really, but in essence isn’t that what I’m saying – Freewill - good for me, bad for you? Because of this ‘gift’, I will be hurt, betrayed and broken, but so will you – and maybe unfortunately by me.
However (I like this word), there is a flip side to this. The flip side is I do have it too. Well, duh, didn’t I just say that? See, I also have the freewill to forgive, and therefore, trust, love, move forward again and again… What I have learned is that I cannot do this on my own and to try would be futile. What did Papa do with Mac and the situation of his murdered child? He helped Mac forgive. He gave Mac the strength to use his freewill to choose to forgive. He took Mac’s burden off his shoulders and on to His Own.
He took my anger, pain, feelings of betrayal, disappointment (even in Him) and made it His own. He took it so I don’t have to carry it. Just as He will take it from this father whose son has been victimized by another, … when he lets Him (there it is – that freewill).
I don’t know how you trust again. I know it leaves a lasting scar when it’s broken, but I also know (1st hand) that wounds heal. No, the area that was wounded never looks the same again, but it does heal and looks different. Personally, I like scars. They tell a story. They show life being lived - abundantly.
But what happens to Trust when it is broken? I guess again this answer changes in degree depending on the situation. If I drop my baby, she might not let me toss her in the air again by hanging on for dear life, but we still have relationship. If a counselor breaks confidentiality, the relationship is severed. If a spouse breaks the trust of the marriage, several possibilities can occur; heartbreak (a given), separation, and divorce at the worst, but at best also reconciliation. If trust is broken by family members, again it can depend. A relationship may be severed, broken, or again eventually reconciled.
But what happens? These are possible outcomes but what happens to the person whose trust was broken. The outcomes are visible to the world and can be seen by anyone. What about the unseen? What about the doubt, confusion, betrayal, pain, and so on? How do you trust again?
I hear this question daily in many forms, whether spoken or unspoken. “How do I trust the world again after being assaulted”? “How do I trust him/her again after betraying our vows by abusing me?” “How do I trust men again after rape?” “How do I trust my family again after daddy/mommy touched me?” “How do I trust God after this has happened to my loved one?”
I don’t know. Yes, there is my answer. I know, it’s deep. However, I think it is a different process for everyone. Some are able to trust again – maybe too quickly. Some are not able to ever trust again – truly tragic. Granted those are the extreme ends of the pendulum swing. But I think it really happens somewhere in the middle and with each new situation and person. I also think it is the beloved saying, “One day at a time.” Most of the time I really hate little sayings like this, but there is great Truth in this one.
As most of us have had our trust broken, whether by a friend or more like the ways I mentioned above, we have learned how to deal – either in a healthy way or not. I was recently asked by a father whose young son was victimized, "how do I trust God again after this? How could He allow this to happen?" The mother wanted to know, "how do I trust the world again and not gather my children up, keep them home safe with me?" I don’t know.
But it got me to thinking, how do I trust people and the world around me again and again? I didn’t dig my hole, well, ok, but I didn’t stay there. So I dug my hole and I like returning on occasion. I made a nice place. But it’s not a place one can live – and have life abundantly. I’m not a trusting person. In fact, I will go as far to say I don’t really trust anyone to the fullest. (Hopefully, this statement does not hurt anyone as it isn’t meant to. On the other hand, if you know me, then this shouldn’t be a surprise either.) Yet, I have relationships. I’m married and I would say happily. I have friends, siblings, parents, in laws, co-workers and so on. I think they are all good relationships, but I don’t trust. So what is my point in all of this? Uhh, good question.
As this dad was asking me his questions, it reminded me of the book, The Shack. I’m reminded of the scene where Mac, the dad, is angry that God/Papa allowed the murder of his young daughter. And the response is one we know, but is either forgotten in times of trauma/grief or is unacceptable. The answer is Papa didn’t allow the murder. We know He didn’t prevent it, so what did He do? He gave us Freewill long ago in a garden and with that came pain – for both sides.
Freewill – a powerful word. I think we are ok with freewill for ourselves, but not always for other people. I know I want to always have freewill and make decisions, but I can’t honestly say that I’m glad other people have it too. Am I glad that my husband has the freewill to choose to believe or deny there is a God? Not if I’m honest. Am I glad that one day my beautiful child that I love may look at me and say horrible things in anger? Can’t say I look forward to that. Am I glad that those who have broken my trust had the power/freewill to hurt me? No, I’m not. Am I ok that the victims that I work with have been hurt at the hands of another b/c of freewill? No, I’m not.
So basically, I want to be a dictator. Ok, not really, but in essence isn’t that what I’m saying – Freewill - good for me, bad for you? Because of this ‘gift’, I will be hurt, betrayed and broken, but so will you – and maybe unfortunately by me.
However (I like this word), there is a flip side to this. The flip side is I do have it too. Well, duh, didn’t I just say that? See, I also have the freewill to forgive, and therefore, trust, love, move forward again and again… What I have learned is that I cannot do this on my own and to try would be futile. What did Papa do with Mac and the situation of his murdered child? He helped Mac forgive. He gave Mac the strength to use his freewill to choose to forgive. He took Mac’s burden off his shoulders and on to His Own.
He took my anger, pain, feelings of betrayal, disappointment (even in Him) and made it His own. He took it so I don’t have to carry it. Just as He will take it from this father whose son has been victimized by another, … when he lets Him (there it is – that freewill).
I don’t know how you trust again. I know it leaves a lasting scar when it’s broken, but I also know (1st hand) that wounds heal. No, the area that was wounded never looks the same again, but it does heal and looks different. Personally, I like scars. They tell a story. They show life being lived - abundantly.
One day at a time sweet Jesus
That's all I'm asking from you.
Just give me the strength
To do everyday what I have to do.
Yesterday's gone sweet Jesus
And tomorrow may never be mine.
Lord help me today, show me the way
One day at a time.
That's all I'm asking from you.
Just give me the strength
To do everyday what I have to do.
Yesterday's gone sweet Jesus
And tomorrow may never be mine.
Lord help me today, show me the way
One day at a time.
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