Gungor: Beautiful Things

And So....Rest!

I was unable to post my last few thoughts on October 31st (downed Internet service) so I thought I'd sprinkle them out and about tonight.

It has been an amazing journey, this blog.

I found people who understand being afraid of church.

I have found people, even though wounded by their past, encourage grace and growth in Christ (that's you, Hillary!)

I have found people not afraid to say a spade is a spade and that intimidation in the name of religion is evil (Keep blogging, Lewis)

I have been blessed by the incredible insights by bloggers like Eric who understand the choke hold of legalism and Meg and Burnie who write openly and honestly of life out of the cult.

Provender's post describing how spiritual abuse is the invisible trauma was an eye-opener.

The blogger Recovering Alumni at 'My Teen Mania Experience' has my absolute respect. She has stood up to a mega organization for the lives it has harmed.

If you are coming out of a controlling family or church these people are good friends to have by your side.

My battle right now finding freedom from my approval addiction. Blogger Shari Howerton writes eloquently of her own struggle in this area (thank you for sharing your struggle, Shari)

Working in a consumer satisfaction environment has gone a long way to curing my approval addiction. No matter how good you are, how hard you work, how much you care you just can't make 'em all happy.

I might pop back from time to time to pass along some good reading. For now, however, I am going to rest. And watch 'Pushing Daisies' (my new love) and 'The Middle' (my new fav).

My words of wisdom to myself this week come from Max Lucado's 'He Still Moves Stones':

As long as you think you can control people's behavior toward you, you are held in bondage by their opinions...It's a game with unfair rules and fatal finishes. Jesus didn't play it nor should you...Having [approval] is desirable but not necessary for happiness and is not always possible. Jesus did not let the difficult dynamic of His family overshadow his call from God.

Lift Up Your Face

It Wasn't Supposed To Be This Way

 ^19-21I'll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness,
   the taste of ashes, the poison I've swallowed.
I remember it all—oh, how well I remember—
   the feeling of hitting the bottom.
But there's one other thing I remember,
   and remembering, I keep a grip on hope: (Lamentations 3:19-21, The Message)

At the library Thursday night I found a book by Kay Arthur entitled When the Hurt Runs Deep. No stranger to pain (her first husband was a suicide victim) Arthur titles her first chapter "It Wasn't Supposed to Be This Way".

Which coincidentally has been the title of my latest litany to God. From Monday on I have emphasized over and over to Him how the church is supposed to be the last place on earth that someone gets hurt. How that walking into a church shouldn't make me have panic attacks.

Dealing with resulting pain from other's choices isn't easy. Arthur doesn't hold any punches as she relates stories of a woman impregnated by her dad, a girl molested for eight years by her pastor father. Another mother of a suicide victim wrote:

Everyone said he was the strongest Christian they knew, so it is almost impossible to understand. my other child is...very ill. Why do these things happen? I had it all...now we are left with rubble. Does God care?

Arthur writes:

This woman's questions are ones we all wrestle with at times...Why us? Why now? Does God care?

A technique I tried (unsuccessfully) to deal with the pain and questions was to measure my pain against others, such as this breaved mother. "At least all my family made it out of the cult alive." The thought in itself is fine and true. I can be thankful that no family members were a suicide victim in the cult.

The thought in its completeness was this: "No family member lost their life to the cult. Therefore there are others who have greater losses than me and deserve the right to mourn and ask questions."

And the Pharisee me pops back into light: everything from pain to righteous acts are measured on a scale and I don't measure up.

This line of thinking was promoted by the pastor of the Dade City church. I was called in the office once and berated because I was worried about a family member that had a broken arm. I was told that there were members of the church suffering so much more (the members happened to be her 'special' 'family' members) and that they had the right to be worried about family circumstances. My pain didn't measure up. I didn't deserve to worry.

Just another of her devilishly brilliant tactics: If you take away the person's "right" to feel pain they never bother questioning God why the pain is there. Take God and the need or "right" to ask God questions out of the equation and who's left? The cult leader...standing where she always meant to stand: In God's place. The pain of life is too much to take by yourself and since you don't have the "right" to talk to God about it you would end up talking to her.

Wow! I just realized once again how incredibly twisted this woman was and unfortunately still is...she is a true witch!

So maybe that's the point of this portion of pain...I finally figured out that I have the "right" to talk to God about it. I'll tell Him again today how I am tired of the fall out from a sick, narcissistic woman's need for control. I'll ask again when He is going to stop her evilness. I'll beg Him to give me a day off from all the questions...a day to just be.

David had to understand. He talks about hiding in God's presence in Psalms 91...hiding from deadly traps and hidden arrows under God's arms. God tells him:

^14-16 "If you'll hold on to me for dear life," says God,
      "I'll get you out of any trouble.
   I'll give you the best of care
      if you'll only get to know and trust me.
   Call me and I'll answer, be at your side in bad times;
      I'll rescue you, then throw you a party.
   I'll give you a long life,
      give you a long drink of salvation!" (Psalm 91:14-16, The Message)

I'll keep a grip on hope. I have the right to communicate with a heavenly Father about the fall out. I don't know why everything is "this way". It wasn't supposed to be this way. But as Jeremiah said:

 ^22-24God's loyal love couldn't have run out,
   his merciful love couldn't have dried up.
They're created new every morning.
   How great your faithfulness!
I'm sticking with God (I say it over and over).
   He's all I've got left.
 ^25-27God proves to be good to the man who passionately waits,
   to the woman who diligently seeks.
It's a good thing to quietly hope,
   quietly hope for help from God.
It's a good thing when you're young
   to stick it out through the hard times.
 ^28-30When life is heavy and hard to take,
   go off by yourself. Enter the silence.
Bow in prayer. Don't ask questions:
   Wait for hope to appear.
Don't run from trouble. Take it full-face.
   The "worst" is never the worst. (Lamentations 3:22-30, The Message)

I'm sticking with God...I'll say it over and over.

 ^31-33Why? Because the Master won't ever
   walk out and fail to return.
If he works severely, he also works tenderly.
   His stockpiles of loyal love are immense.
He takes no pleasure in making life hard,
   in throwing roadblocks in the way: (Lamentations 3:31-32, The Message)

I would remind the pastor of the Dade City church of the next verse:

 ^34-36Stomping down hard
   on luckless prisoners,
Refusing justice to victims
   in the court of High God,
Tampering with evidence—
   the Master does not approve of such things. (Lamentations 3:34-36, The Message)
photo by fortschreitend of Parkersburg tornado damage

Picasso Would Understand My Slightly Sad Sundays

Sundays are slightly depressing to me. It gets to you when you hear fifty-two or so Sundays a year that nuclear nightmares are lurking just slightly around the corner and that the United Nations is days away from passing out free "Mark of the Beast" cards to the evilly loyal, cutting off the food supply from the rest of us more sanctified folks.

Sundays are my 'Picasso' days. Good sense is slightly out of focus, slightly distorted. I don't listen to the news, read the Bible (hold the 'Gasp!' factor down...I still read it the other days), or go to church. I'm just not quite that brave on Sundays. If the current President is washing the country down the world drain I beg you not to tell me on a Sunday.

Easter Quote

Our Lord has written the promise of the resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in spring-time.

Martin Luther
image by philljackson12 in photobucket

Good Friday Quote

From All Rivers To The Sea by Brock and Bodie Thoene:

She tried to remember what Father O'Bannon said when she survived her own inferno and others she loved did not...when she could not...kneel before the living God without reproaching Him for her suffering. What was it that made her lay aside her bitterness...opening the drawer she rifled through a sheaf of papers until she came to a single yellowed sheet she had written upon years ago... Scars.Visible.Invisible...The wounds of a risen Christ...hands,head, side and feet.Touch them and believe.
Hide in them and live.
Cherish your scars, Kate. They make you more like Him.
Christ crucified, the only begotten Son of God sacrificed for you.
And at the foot of the cross, most human of all agony. His mother watched Him die.
Think on it! To stand helpless while the child she loved suffered and died...She took Him from the cross and buried Him...Grieve like Mary at the grave for all you cannot understand.
Give up to God the hopes your love has begotten
Mourn at the tomb of what you've lost.
Then Give up to God what you cannot change.
Remember there will be Easter morning.
Hope in that alone.
Bear your scars with joy.