My first conversation with God, really talking to God went something like …
“I’m going to do wonders in your life.” –God
“What? You’re going to do wonders in my life? I’m a bleep-bleep-bleeping drug addict didn’t you like know that? You are like, um … GOD!” –Me and in my best Californian valley-girl accent leaning against the counter in the kitchen of my Aunt and Uncle’s house.
What a complete and utter mess I was. Addicted to crystal meth also known as speed, a good 90 lbs. and hearing voices; not exactly new, … but this one was different! Tears welled up in my eyes as these words of hope were prying open my heart. Could it be true? It was an invitation and a declaration. It’s like I had a choice but not really as I locked myself in the bathroom so that my Grandma, Aunt, and Uncle wouldn’t think their tactics of trying to get me“saved” were working. There was the planted bible next to my bed with a hand written inscription, the Christian TV station on 24/7, along with a soundtrack of Christian worship playing in the background to dramatically set the stage for a salvation experience. One could think. These tools did come in handy later. But really it was just the simple words spoken directly by God that in one moment changed this broken little girl’s life.
“I’m going to do wonders in your life.” -GOD
It’s been fifteen years ago now since I locked myself in that bathroom and experienced the love of God wash over me and ALL my sin, setting me free from an addiction to drugs and igniting a flame in my heart for more of Him. Have I done things perfectly since meeting Him that day? Ummm … NO! I began learning to walk a new way and like any baby learning to walk, I wobbled, I tripped, and even fell (yes, even on my face). But He would pick me up, dust me off and say, “Let’s try that again baby doll, you’ve got this girl, because I’ve got you!”
I just recently returned from visiting that bathroom on a trip back to California to see my Grandma (picture below). I took a moment to just stand in that bathroom and thank God for ALL the wonders He’s done in my life. Just like He said He would do. I thought of the healing that has taken place in my heart from the past, so I can stand before Him a healthy and whole person. Miraculous. I thought of my husband and how He brought us together, this man God has chosen to make me a better person. Miraculous. I thought of each of my precious little boys, God unwrapping their destiny daily before my eyes. Oh my goodness, MIRACULOUS! The word “wonders” took on new meaning as my heart was humbled by the extravagance of His love. Gratefulness that knows no bounds, for only I know who I was the day we met. Oh how He delights in taking the foolish things and confounding the wise. I was the perfect Candidate for such an endeavor, aren’t we all?
”But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty;” 1 Corinthians 1:27
In this moment of reveling in His goodness, He took me back to that day I choose Him by way of a vision. It was like a bird’s eye view of that day. I could see myself, I was thin and fragile, long straight black hair to my waist, crying with abandon in this new love and acceptance, repentant of sin you wouldn’t want to repeat.
He whispered to me, “You were so beautiful to me in that moment.”
“Wait … let me hear you correctly God. Are you saying to me … in what I perceive was my worst moment, entangled in sin and addiction … You found me to be beautiful?”, I inquired as a great mystery was being revealed to my heart.
A rumor or lie as you will was being exposed and everything in me cried out, “BUSTED!” , to the enemy of our souls. You see the rumor about God is somehow that the better we get, the more we please Him, the more righteous we become, that by the things we do, we can actually cause Him to love us more. Not truth!
You see … the truth is the same love he offered me in that bathroom when I was drenched in sin is the same love he offers me daily as I choose to walk with Him. He loves me the same today as He did then. I’ve never been required to earn anything, but receive everything. Every key to His kingdom available to me by His Spirit and in His word … I cheat myself if I try and earn His love. It’s like trying to return the greatest gift ever given. It’s like throwing away what He has called “beautiful” … His great love for us!
There are a lot of rumors out there about God. About Jesus. About the Holy Spirit. We dispel rumors about God by knowing God. We dispel rumors by experiencing His love and hearing His voice. These rumors and lies put God in a box with boundaries that deny us the limitless expression of His love and what that love can do in our lives when realized. A box just isn’t big enough for our God. I know I feel claustrophobic when I feel someone has put me in a box! I want to spend my life pleasantly surprising myself and those I love. I venture to say God wants to too. Let’s take a moment to let the Holy Spirit expose rumors with the reality of His love and purposes for us. He is always speaking … let us be listening.
What rumors or lies have kept me from the truth of who you are and your great love for me? Jesus … allow me to experience the refreshing of your love flowing over and in me once again. Restore hope in your wondrous ways, help me to unfold daily the mysteries of who You are to me … in me … for the world to see! I will praise you for I am fearfully and wonderfully made to walk with you in this great romance of redemption. Thank you for calling me friend and walking with me through this journey of tossing rumors and finding YOU!
In Jesus name!
You are carried in my heart and with GREAT love,
You can also see this post at: Destiny in Bloom
This story is about my Dad. My crazy-sanguine-embarrass-me-much-Father … who walked with great depth of emotion and like a pendulum it swung him to heights of great passion and then plummeted him to the opposite end of his regrets in this life. This is part of his story, a bit of my story, and some of our story. The story of his journey to the end of this life, and to the beginning of his next. It is a memoir of an ending, but I believe it is the beginning of a better story that one day I’ll hear in heaven where, hopefully, a better me will see him again.
So being in my thirty some-things … I’m finally in a place where I can write this story. There is something about being in your thirties and finally having a clearer view of the past, being in a place where you can finally come to terms with your faults and those of the ones you love. The insecurities of a younger self begin to ebb away as the pride and invincibility of our youth is traded for wisdom gained from lessons learned the hard way; ones that have led us to greater compassion solely because we realize our desperate need for it.
My mom and dad were divorced five months after I was born. To my father’s credit I didn’t know a childhood without him, he was always faithful to come see me or fly me out to see him. He bought my back-to-school clothes every year and my Mom bought my summer clothes. He doted on buying my Easter dresses and trying to culture me with name brands. My Mom and Dad were opposites in every way. My Mom shopped at Mervyn’s, my Dad shopped at Macy’s. My Mom was non-addictive, my Dad was highly addictive and somehow that seems an understatement. My Mom was socially friendly, my Dad was extravagantly charming (Look hard enough and you can find me perfectly in the middle.) That’s the way it’s supposed to work … right? Opposites attracting? I didn’t get to hear the stories about how much he loved my Mom and why he was drawn to her until shortly before he passed, I think somewhere deep inside I needed to know they loved each other when they had me; and if he hadn’t struggled with rage and acting on that rage that we could have had a chance at being a normal family.
I lived with him off and on during some adolescent hard patches. I’ve never met anyone quite like him. He was so charming … people were drawn to him and he always dazzled a stranger … calling waitresses “Sweetheart” like they had been friends forever. He wore strong expensive cologne and insisted I wear a nice perfume from a young age. He was so yuppy in every way. I remember all the girl’s volleyball games he took me to at the local university and the plays put on by the local community theater. He also sent me to etiquette school, at the time it seemed silly but now I look back and see what a gift it was. He was always concerned that my Mom wouldn’t raise me to be cultured enough. He gave me the opportunity to embrace the creative element in me and I did. My love of the arts started young and it was in these moments it began.
I think back on these memories and all the painful things I’ve had to go through in my life. I’m not afraid anymore of being broken, like I was in my twenties, trying desperately to hold my life together like I had the power. I see the beauty of the mosaic I’ve become … if I had not been broken on the rock that is Christ … I would not have been able to take only the good pieces leaving behind the bad, becoming and being the art only God can create. These memories are among my favorite pieces.
My dad really struggled with anger and managing it and a lot of his relationships were ended because of it. My heart is to honor my Dad with this story, so I’m not going to go into all those details except to say when I was twelve he sought prolonged counseling and thereafter was without incident until he passed away. Which in my eyes makes him an overcomer… anyone who finds fault in themselves and fights for change and sees that change become a reality deserves a standing ovation.
He overcame some great struggles and carried others till the day he died. He started smoking when he was in sixth grade. I don’t remember ever seeing a picture where he wasn’t smoking or trying to hide a cigarette behind his back. His mom died of emphysema and ultimately that is the disease that took my Dad’s life as well.
I found out when he was in his late forties he was beginning to have some chronic lung problems and around the time he turned fifty he received the emphysema diagnosis. Shortly after he got his breathing machine I received my hand inscribed copy of Tuesdays with Morrie: a book by Mitch Albom. He said it would help me deal with the levels of accepting his looming death and how quickly he would physically weaken. I resisted reading the book for months thinking, “My God is bigger, He can help me … I don’t need to read that book.” But then God said, “Honor your father and read the book. You’ll find wisdom in the book and then I’ll strengthen you with truth.” I read the book non-stop for two days, taking moments off to weep and prepare my heart for the journey ahead. I talked to my Dad about how God heals. But heaven became the healing he wanted and during this time he truly gave his heart to the Lord. He had been so wounded in this life, now that he believed in heaven, it just sounded like a better place. As he opened up his heart to the Lord, the Lord began to restore the relationships between my dad and his children.
I know when the Lord spoke to me in the middle of freaking out in a Texas tornado, sirens going off, this Cali girl flipping out, crying out to God, “I’m all alone! I’m scared! Well Jesus, I guess you’re here …” Then His presence came in like a flood and I was humbled by my unbelief. All I wanted to do is repent but He asked me to shush because He wanted to do the talking. He told me to go back to California to see my father alone without my husband. He showed me I had some giants to kill on the way to my promised land of emotional health and wholeness. I had to go this one alone with the Lord and the victory was already mine. I thought of the emotional work this would require and wondered if I could handle going where the Lord was asking me to go. Could I say what I needed to say? Could I show greater love then the pain I knew as a child? Could I extend grace and accept love the way my father was capable of showing it and not be disappointed that it never looked or felt the way I wanted it? Could this look like healing? I was so lost in His presence and the commissioning of this divine assignment that when I opened my eyes I had totally forgotten about the tornado and the storm had passed.
The hardest thing for me to come to terms with during this time was that I so desperately wanted him to see the real me before he passed. The greatest pain I felt from our relationship was the pain of being misunderstood or not known. Always trying to change this perception of me that he had made up in his mind … that I was reserved, that I was emotionless, and sometimes cold. As my husband knows all too well … I’ve always been very in touch with my feelings and love adjectives, so explaining how I feel has never been hard for me. By golly, I can tell you what color my feelings are and every shade in between, for that matter. I wanted him to see that. I can’t say for sure that he did but I can say we had long healing talks and revisited memories where we both offered each other grace and respected each other’s truth (although differing slightly) of the same painful situations. We shared our current struggles, how we wanted to see God in them. He wanted his children to remember him, I just wanted to have children. My husband and I were in the midst of a year and a half battle with infertility (the pain of not knowing what was wrong with me and longing so dearly for one to call my own.) My dad took this on as his prayer assignment. His prayers were so precious with the fervor of a young Christian. I would actually hear him praying for us from his shower when I was visiting. My husband said I came home a new woman from that trip, he could tell God had healed and shifted things on the inside of me. I didn’t carry the daddy pain into my relationship with my husband anymore, the wounded little girl in me had let go of the pains of the past and was able to grow up.
I wasn’t there when my dad passed. My older brother was there and told me he had taken a nap and as he was breathing after he exhaled, the breaths became farther apart until finally he exhaled and never inhaled again. I had a dream about him two weeks after he went to be with the Lord, only I was the one in the room with him when he passed and everything was happening the way my brother explained. Except after he took his last breath, I saw his spirit leave his body and ascend to heaven to stand before two Angels at the entrance of heaven. They asked him what prayer he’d like answered on his way into heaven. As he asked the angels of the Lord for his daughter to get pregnant I began sobbing in my dream and woke up to a wet pillow and was sobbing hard in my bed. It was the first time I had ever been crying in my dream and really crying at the same time. We found out two weeks later we were pregnant with our first son. I knew God was letting me know my fathers heart for me and that when he had entered heaven, the environment of perfect love, he was healed from the pains of this life and through the eyes of perfect love he finally saw me and how much I loved him.
You see, this is a testimony that God is in the business of redeeming everything you will give to Him. We all have had relationships in our lives that aren’t perfect because there are no perfect people. We have been hurt by people we love and we have hurt people we love. But God is able to heal our hearts as we extend grace and walk in forgiveness. I hope you find hope in this story that He redeems. I pray hope gives you the strength to trust your own struggles into the hands of His perfect love. I will testify … He can be trusted!
With Great Love!
You can also see this post at: Destiny in Bloom
A poem I wrote called: The Great Romance
I felt that feeling
… Again …
It’s your presence
I get lost
In Your stare
It’s a wonder
How You do that
It’s a secret
How my heart
In your arms
Like a blanket
All of me
To many years
In your arms
Reunited in true
In Your sacrifice
In Your strength
I lose my
Envelops the wounds
Of my pain
Into a redemption
The gifts of
Finally I can
Has made me
A haven ~ my refuge
A closet ~ my heart … our secret meeting place
A fountain ~ my soul’s retreat
Making life in
Come one …
Come all …
This poem is dedicated to the one who gives me life and SAVES me daily!