Stop the Craziness!

A friend once recommended a book entitled “Crazy like Us” to me and it's been fodder for rumination ever since that day at Coffee Circle in Shwe Gon Dine, Yangon. Shwe Gon Dine has to be one of the worst traffic jams in this city even though most of Yangon is a perpetual traffic jam. The squealing horns, brakes and tight spaces of overcrowded buses add so much color and illustration to this topic that I can't resist. To be honest, I'd rather get off a mile before and walk the rest of the way. That's my protective self making sure that no body bursts my personal space, or worse, spills their oily lunch on my clothes in the swaying. Isn't that why we have protective selves in the first place? We want to make sure that no one gets too close to our pain, and that their mess doesn't spill over on us. Sometimes, it's for a good reason like not having hours and hours to scrub a dress because someone else's oil stained it, {been there, done that} but sometimes it's just selfishness.

The book shows how the western world of psychology has traveled to the East and given them the same afflictions we deal with that were previously unknown in these cultures. As these mental conditions and diseases were broadcast into these cultures, people who previously had no culturally appropriate way to express a variety of emotional pain would turn to these new ideas and tweak their experiences to fit the symptoms of the illness that was now culturally approved as a legitimate condition. Anorexia, for example, became a “thing” in places where it was unheard of.

In the Mennonite world, we too have culturally appropriate ways to express pain and negative emotions. I've been thinking about how much the way we feel is affected by the culture we find ourselves in, and how it gets expressed. For starters, we could find a lot of workaholics, and justice fighters or on a mission “to save the world and the whales while we're at it” in our circles. These are perfect protective selves. We cheer these efforts, and rally around these people like they are heroes. But we don't stop to think about what might be behind their hard work. Perfectionists, Good and godly, and submissive or telling people what they want to hear instead of hard truth might be other nice protective selves that we turn to in order to cover pain and to find safety. I'm sure I haven't exhausted the list of things that commonly float across a counseling office desk. This isn't to say that all hard work is bad, or that there is a demon behind every good bush. But stop and think about it. Become aware of what you turn to.

We have this deep desire to show that we have it “together.” And even more then that, we have pressure from our culture to have it together. After all, the Gospel dictates that redemption, rescue and saving are part of the story. And these are real, legitimate pieces, but we don't often give room for “Paul's thorn in the flesh.” God doesn't always heal instantly, or permanently. We'd like that, and often we expect that, or feel that expectation from others. So we reach for protective measures so no one knows what pain we have going on.

Am I suggesting that we don't confront external issues? No. We should deal with things, and sharpen iron with iron with accountability and relationships where mutual growth is encouraged.

Am I suggesting we go find excuses from our past and reasons for our behavior and people to cast blame on? No. 

What I am suggesting is that we embrace the process. That we dare to ride the waves of it all. Feel the pain and the joy. And be real with ourselves, instead of believing the lies we tell ourselves.

We claim to value authenticity, but then conform to whatever gets the approval of the people around us. What I'm suggesting is that we be real with the protective selves we wear, the masks we flippantly change out even subconsciously, and that we dare to sit with the pain long enough to allow healing from the inside out instead of an external act that lasts for a while. If we can be honest with ourselves and a few trusted friends as needed, we can find the freedom to relax, watch our pain ebb away, and become whole.

What if we started giving mass invitations in our culture to be real? What if we allowed people to be who they are, and not create these certain cultural norms for how one should act or handle certain topics? Last time I checked, when I was in a group (outside of very close friends) that I felt safe enough to be completely real with them, I actually was more mellow then protective self I'm used to turning to. :) Oh, there were a few dramatic moments, but basically that was just from the anxiety of getting the pain out, and spoken to the group. I soon discovered the freedom I found was worth far more then the panic of spilling. So don't think that if you let all cultural norms go, the world will become crazy. I think if we are really real, and offer a safe space, peace starts to flow, and makes things more sane.

I have a conjecture of a theory that if we all stopped using our protection and masks, a lot of striving, conflict and more would cease. If we had any idea of the magnitude of what someone else was going through, or saw things through their eyes, we'd likely have more empathy for them. Can we let our own guards down as well so that others can see our own vulnerabilities we try to hide? We're hurt in relationships but we also heal in relationships.

So the real heart of this matter is to let ourselves and others sit in the pain, and allow God to heal from the inside out. He is the best Healer out there. We are not going to find it till the day we chose to feel the waves, the storm, in it's full blast. But in the eye of the storm, there is a calm that carries us through. So regardless of what cultural norms are out there, and what people around expect, or project on us, venture into the middle of the pain. Go deep enough to focus on what is beneath the external drama and the things you reach for. There is where you will find healing.

Guess what?! even if you keep tight reigns on your protective gear, subconsciously things will still spill out. A reminder of one pain may nudge you on to hint at another. I realized more recently that for some reason, I waited to numbly tell someone about some painful news I'd heard that morning till hours later as we rounded the same corner where another painful, traumatic conversation had happened years before. I could have said something sooner, but I believe now that the prior unprocessed event triggered spilling the news there. And the crazy thing is, I never made the connection till after I found healing from the first event that the second conversation was on the same corner. I'm saying all this to say, you can only protect so much. At some point, pain spills when it's triggered.

While both of these events have impacted me in ways I don't even fully understand, I can testify to healing coming years later. If it's been a long time, give up the protection masks and go there with God and a few trusted people. Healing can come!

As was illustrated at a trauma conference by Becca Johnson that I attended a few years ago, one incident can knock a person off kilter and as they flounder around, they seem to attract more trauma, which makes the tailspin go even faster. So why not deal with it as it happens? :)

One thing I really want to be more aware of and do more of is go to God and sit awhile after drama, because that is when we are most vulnerable to lies coming in. Stop clenching my fists, being a strong woman and just turn in to God for comfort and deeper understanding of the situation. I'm amazed at how clear things get to be when I let go of the protective things, and turn towards Him.

I recently read a secular book about healing after toxic relationships. While not from a Christian perspective, the author encourages us to forgive and center in on unconditional love, both of which are strong Biblical principles. I want to leave you here with hope, and something to dig into... and the next blog will be exegetic of these 2 topics.

Embrace the Gift of Pain

With His stripes we are healed.

For the first time, it sank deep in my soul that His deep wounds are there to catch my tears, and heal the pain(s). My tears don't fall useless in an unseen, unknown abyss, but right into His gaping pain. That means there is nothing He doesn't understand because He's felt it already.

Right in the middle of feeling misunderstood, and judged, I read Exodus and saw the passage in a new light. It talks about their groaning, and how God heard, and SAW! God saw! Our groanings do not go unnoticed, but are seen just like God saw the groaning of the Israelites when they were stumbling around in the wilderness. It's exciting that God sees it all! God gets it even if nobody else understands!

Pain. A lot of 2018 was spent processing hard, ugly, shattering pain from the distant past all through the latest millisecond. Drama doesn't stop for a second. Rare was the week when I didn't cry about something. And like I told a friend, it would be wrong if that weren't my 'I'm doing ok' reality. As in something would be very wrong granted the situations, if I didn't, because it is normal to grieve in these types of circumstances. 2018 included calling 4 different places home, time in a refugee camp, starting 2 new jobs, moving back from Asia, a life changing 2 weeks at Core 2, and then migrating to a new community in the USA. Not in that order. 

If you're like I used to be, you gloss over pain, give it a hard kick behind a door that simultaneously got slammed and you stumped off in a different direction, and threw yourself headlong into the next "good project" with an unusual vengeance that really was an  emotional release. 

Ok, perhaps in the presence of the right people, a bitter sarcastic comment would emerge as a joke, or a slightly more dignified prayer request if that seemed better. Ya'll know what I mean, right?

If that is what you know, then there is a part of the gospel that you've been missing along with me.

The Bible talks about Jesus binding the brokenhearted, and not quenching a smoking flax. God is near to the brokenhearted. Ummm... yeah!! You gotta experience it for yourself to really get it though. 

Sometimes God's so close, He literally pours life into your pores. I can testify to God waking me up on a night I fell asleep telling Him I had literally no idea how I'd make it for the 2 or 3 more weeks necessary to finish the assignment He had me on, and I still cry as I remember how close God was that night as He held His burnt out, awakened child, and gave me the necessary energy to go on. 

You're going to have to let go, feel the pain, and sit with it enough to invite Him into it. And guess what? He comes every time! It's in the middle of the mess that we really find His grace, His kindness and His healing. It's there we realize the full gospel. Saving grace includes full healing. It's the presence of pain, not it's absence that helps us understand more about what a gift the gospel really is.

People will continue to throw expectations, judgement, and dash out all sorts of spicy, dramatic flavors, but it just matters less after you soak in healing grace. Hah! at them for trying to keep throwing it at you, and Hallelujah! that it doesn't matter as much anymore!

The most amazing people in my humble opinion are those who will enter the mess and sit. They don't judge, but pray for redemption.They can see parts of what you'll eventually realize too, but they let you get to the realization alone.

At some point, it is sharp pain, not pleasure, that stops us from reaching for our masks, go-to relationship styles, and behaviors that simply don't work for us. It breaks us right out of the mold, and brings us the freedom we craved. It brings us to our knees, and shows us the Healer who gives what our hearts longed for before we even realized what we were looking for in the masks.

While I've done my own processing, I've sat on the sidelines of multiple other people's stories as knives, affairs, restraining orders, suicidal thoughts, evictions, accidents, insane 3am phone calls, and other hard drama flashed in front of my eyes. I don't need movies for entertainment, just saying. Ok, maybe once in a while to give me hope for a 'happily ever after.' I'm saying all this to say that even as I opened my own heart to processing more pain, my opportunities to enter into messy situations exponentially grew. The more we become ok with our own junk, the more we can enter into other lives. Whether anything good comes from it or not, involvement in other lives is fulfilling and life changing for us.

So dare to be vulnerable. 

Feel the pain. 

Ask the Healer to sit with you.

Reach out to a friend for help. I've found they have more free time then I thought.

And go help somebody else. 

Having both input and output is healthy.

Repeat in any order.  

Life is hard, but the man who said the Joy and pain come on the same track was so right. It's real. 

It's just like the night we were at the ER this summer. She was cutting, so the emotional weight was heavy. I parked, and went in with her to meet a off duty medical friend. I heard the helicopter land but didn't give it much thought. Later, they came to tell me that wind from the helicopter that landed on the wrong hospital had damaged my car, coming to the total of 2 grand. At least I could still drive it. After I left in the pouring rain, I noticed a rainbow that seemed to stay right in front of me. I've never seen it so close. It was then that a song from choir jumped into my head. "I've never seen a rainbow till after the rain, I never felt His healing power till I felt the pain..." In the middle of the hardest nights, we find precious moments with God that impact us more then any happy vibes would. The pain was hard, but I felt joy in knowing God was with us.

Laura Story put it down well in the words of the song Blessings. "What if the trials of this life, the rain, the storms, the hardest nights, are Your mercies in disguise?"

The challenge is for each of us to accept the hard things while others appear happy and successful without any obvious pain. It's holding it open handed, and saying, "Yes God, if I could see the whole picture, I'd choose the same story You did for me."

Some say you can always find someone who has it worse then you do. That offers perspective, but it doesn’t acknowledge the validity of your own harsh reality. Don’t discount what you have going on. But don’t make a mountain out of your mole hill, either.

This song by Greg Long was a favorite a super long time ago in a season of waiting, but anyway, new parts stick out as I reflect on the journey of the past few years like this following verse:

Pain. 

The Gift nobody longs for, 

still it comes.

Leaves us stronger when its gone away.

"Pain. The gift nobody longs for..." Just like the book, 'The Gift of Pain' and this song express, pain really is a gift. It breaks us away from self destruction. It takes us deeper into our walk with God-if we allow it to. It’s really what alerts us to the fact that something isn't right and needs to be fixed. It's in the pain that we find healing, ourselves, and what really matters in life. It's anti- intuitive, but it's truth worth grappling with.

No, I haven't become a glutton for pain, but if I were to write a book, it would have to include a chapter entitled 'Embrace the Pain.' 

There's a good chance the road to the next mountain top is through a valley. 

Till you see it clearly, just hang on to the verse that "With His stripes, we are healed." Through His pain, we find release, hope, grace, peace and healing beyond belief.

Invitations

Have you ever reflected on how God scripts details in our lives? Do you notice small things woven together into an amazing wow that captures our attention better because they happened simultaneously?

I've found the book I was reading coming alive as a phone call about a possible assignment stirs the dynamics inside of what the book was talking about. Will I keep trying to impress, and not break the mold, or will I simply be real? Thanks to the book I was just reading and processing, I'll make a different choice then I would if the timing of this phone call would have been a bit different.

I've seen God giving me an image that comes back to mind later that day as I read another book, and clearly understand what the meaning of the image is as I reflect on the words of the story. Will I choose to keep my heart alive in the midst of heart aches?

I've watched a love starved child run wild after a tiny dab of love was given to them, and heard God whisper, “That's you.”

I've had God cut my work hours in order to have a solitude with Him that brought more healing to my heart then the value of the money I would have made during the same amount of time.

He is a God who invites ever so gently. He never stops, but is constantly on the move to get our attention and call us to more. The spot at the table is open 24/7 and it has our name on it. I love how He catches us off guard and just kindly helps us lower our protective exterior a bit more.

He is always showing us, but never condemning. Full of grace and mercy, His way of confronting is powerful. I want to come. I want to be more. I want to follow His directive. I want to experience more of Him. And I want to become more like Him in this. Inviting. Welcoming. Kindly speaking truth day in and day out, without stopping.

There's plenty of conversations that I didn't handle well. Words I'd take back. And sometimes the wish that I'd have said more. There's been a lot of living, reflecting, processing, and even some progressing in 2018. {Gotta love one-liner epistles}

As we walk forward into 2019, I feel this excitement and joy that invitations will come to turn from looking at the past and learning, and instead focusing on the future and growing. I pray that the internal shift that has been slowly developing will softly harden into a good new normal in the next year. That the things I've been invited away from will continue to fall by the wayside, and that gradually I'll pull more towards the things I've been invited to. This invitation to more has me enamored, intrigued and delighted, and maybe just a bit nervous that I'll miss the mark.

But let's get back to the Invitation. God always leaves the door open, always invites, always welcomes, and graciously keeps loving on us, regardless of our response. He has an open space for us all the time. Let's linger at this image just a bit. Let's get our fill so we can be like Him in this inviting thing.

It's not a Martha Stewart special with the perfect napkins, extra frills and fancy saucers. It's being real, instead of whatever super perfection expectation I feel like everyone else holds me to. It's being alive when my world makes me want to die inside, and it's living soaked up in love instead of grabbing a dab here and there. But even more then all this, it's going the extra mile and offering all this and a cherry on top to those who need it. It's offering them a safe place to be real. It's inviting them to life when the world is beating them down. It's offering them the whole cake of love and letting them eat it, too.

Bring on another whole new steep learning curve in 2019! An invitation to defiant joy sounds exciting to me!

The Kindness Challenge

It's the theme for the new school year. Catch kids being kind. It's been fun to see the positives, to encourage the seedlings of good, and just to bless and be blessed.

One of the threads of this whole past summer has been multiple conversations about stereotyping, and judgements. Reality is, no matter who you are, or what part of the world you hail from, you have a certain filter or worldview that you measure everything and everyone by. Your culture will always try to inform your filter, but it doesn't mean you have to go by what they say.

I confess the man with the beat up car who said thanks sorta blew my profiling way out of the water. You see, not everything is as it appears. Just because a car is beat up doesn't mean the driver's the bad guy. Yours truly can testify to owning a currently scratched car that I wasn't even inside when the damage was done. Crazy things happen like helicopter wind pushing things into cars while you sit in the ER with a friend, but insurance should be covering soon. I could say, "Well my car isn't as beat up as his..." but that misses the point. I don't know his story, anymore then he knows mine. But he was thoughtful enough to say thanks. He really gets the kindness challenge, the moral of the "Find the Positive" story. I have no right to expect less cause his car is beat up worse then mine. Take the beam out of your own eye before you start judging someone else. Could be a 747 made an emergency landing and hit his car. Maybe insurance hasn't kicked in for him yet either.

One grade has been learning about making predictions about what comes next in the story. We can also make our own hypotheses about people and the story of their lives. We need to either confirm that we are right, or adjust our way of thinking, after we find out more details of the story.

Whenever you come in contact with people from different backgrounds and cultures, you come face to face with different ideas rubbing against your own worldview. In the fray, apply kindness and compassion. Accept the kindness challenge. Find the positive. Make the difference only you can make. When they speak harshly, speak grace. When you find differences that are hard to reconcile, combine truth with love.

Another thing this world could use more is empathy. Just because someone looks ok, doesn't mean they are. You don't know what is going on. Broken hearts, shattered dreams, depression, sickness, and more can go undetected to the visible eye. If you have been there, and even if you haven't, apply the kindness challenge to everyone you meet.

The Kindness Challenge. Go ahead, change the world. It happens one small kindness at a time.

Dream Again

50 hours of non mentally capturing work has a way of making visionaries think outside the box. In the space of dust is the perfect place to imagine 6 impossible things before breakfast, especially when you start early.

So why not dream a bit...
What a property could become and the businesses could be...
Who people in dark and dangerous places could become... and how we could potentially help them.
What we want our legacy to be...
The multiple types of work we'd love to do like florist, author, painter, chef, world changer, social enterprising, travel blogger, pilot, designer, and the list could go on...
The things we'd still love to see and do...
How could we bless the people around us, and how can we speak words of life to them?

I watch people around me and wonder if they still hold a dream in their heart. If they have become jaded and quit dreaming. If life has handed too many lemons to feel like trying to squeeze something delicious out of it, or if buried deep inside is still that one thing they want to do.

I get it. Smashed dreams. Brokenness. Raw. But my friends, that is not where it stops.

I've heard so many quotes like "If you find yourself in a bad chapter, it's not the end of the story."
Last year's birthday gift from God was a divinely appointed coffee appointment with someone who has seen really amazing things come on the heels of bad circumstances.
An older lady shared about a dramatic time in her life of losses and gains.
Isaiah 62 talks about how God pursues us till His righteousness reflects back to Him from us. It's His love that takes all kinds of things that we don't like and uses them to show us how much He cares.

Psalm 105 talks about Joseph and how he was tested till his dream came to pass. I heard a sermon recently about how the Bible says during each difficult part of this patriarch's life that "...God was with him." Joseph has become one of my heroes that God keeps bringing back to encourage me. Recently, I found notes from an old Bible School class entitled "Joseph." One of my most favorite Sight and Sound plays is the one about Joseph. I shared his story with a friend going through a difficult time along with the rest of his ethnic group in Asia. I'm sure he felt his story was hard, that it wasn't anything fantastic or special, and yet here I am, thousands of years later, still contemplating his faithfulness, courage, and trust as I process my own dreams that haven't yet come to pass.

So if you find yourself in the middle of hard circumstances and the road is all uphill, rest, but don't quit. As some might say, "It ain't over till the fat lady sings."

There are better things to come.
Instead of turning to building relationship safety features and security so deep that most people have no idea what is happening inside anymore, dream.

So go ahead and dream of the impossible, hard things working out.
That work turning out far beyond your dreams...
That relationship becoming way better then you ever could imagine...
That desire being fulfilled in ways beyond your current comprehension...

Dream, not because the circumstances seem to indicate hope, but because you trust in the One who is in the business of redemption and hope.

Dare to go even farther and dream of crushed hope being rebuilt...
Of smashed dreams being resurrected in something far more fabulous...
Of broken things being turned into beautiful pieces of divine art...

Base your hope and trust on Him, nothing else... commit it to Him and He will bring it to pass, in His time, for your good.

New

It's been ages since I've written anything on here, and many of things that have stirred in the silence aren't pieces that go on a public blog. But as I reflect and process on the years since the last blog I published, I'm stirred to inspire and encourage others to stay engaged in the rough journey they may be in.

Isaiah 62 talks about the Lover of our souls pursuing us until He sees His own reflection in us. He won't stop there, but will continue till it's obvious to all the people around us. That is the story of the past years. He hasn't stopped dropping relentless drama, and things that were way beyond me into my life. No, He kept it all stirring, rotating, and rubbing raw till it caught my attention. It's only now that I'm starting to see that He was pursuing me out of love. Deep Love. And He's not finished.

He's not scared of going to deep, dark places to help us find light. I could list people that I'm sure wouldn't go there, or who I wouldn't feel safe to go there with, but He's not one of them. He cuts to the core, and He heals at the core. He remembers things I've almost forgotten that left their mark on who I am today, and brings them back to the surface for healing. It's freeing.

He knows the lack of sleep that has been my reality for the past years. He knows how dark my thoughts can get before sunrise comes. He also knows that He can wake me up to pour love and energy into me so I can carry on, after days when I was convinced I'd hit the end of the end walls. He alone knows how many times He's met me in those pre-dawn moments that have formed our relationship into taking new directions.

The places we've gone, the memories of the soul that my Lover and I have... He made sure the electric was out on the night by the ocean so I'd see the stars like I haven't in years. He was there in the archaic, world history sites as I plodded through difficult emotions. He was there when I climbed my way through a rolling refugee camp that was beyond what I could emotionally comprehend. He was there when I saw so many different scenes that have grafted themselves into the fabric of who I am, and He's helping me see them like He does.

He knows it all, and yet He tells me He's not done. My story isn't over. I'm starting to see a little bit more Jesus in me, but He's not finished till my whole world can see Him in me. There is something far greater then I can imagine that He still wants to do. It's not the end, but the beginning.

I'm excited to see what He's going to do.

Quaint Town Wanderings

She worked calmly, placing each fragile piece in its place. Each chocolate covered piece was a work of art. Something in my soul could have watched that process for hours and reflect on how chocolate crafting could apply to real life.


There is some sense and order to even the broke shards and finely crushed sprinkles scattered on top.
There is something sweet that comes through being melted and processed.
There is beauty that arises to meet our eyes as we behold the finished product.
There is an intimate connection between the creator and the created.


Hurry isn't part of the process.
Soft, gentle caressing and time are key elements that lead to success.


There are some similarities between chocolate and people, aren't there?
Most of us don't cope well with Mount Saint Helen's speed of change.
Most of us respond well to gentle soul steering and lots of patience.
There is something intimate about being under the hand of a shaping God.
We hope there is some sense and use for the broken shards, the ugly pieces.


Another thread wove itself into my mind as I reflected on the surroundings of the shop. The exquisite offerings, the extravagant collections, the expensive price tags juxtaposed themselves against the recent conversations about Poverty, Malnourishment, Aids, and other forms of brokenness. Tears welled up as I remember those who aren't fortunate enough to have a Master chef with a chocolate buffet in their region. They are too poor to even know about such delicacies, much less afford them. A wide range of feelings rose up as I contemplated the other people who were milling around in the store. A sense of pity rises that they haven't had the chances to see cast-off lepers under a bridge, refugees whose dreams and wishes have been washed away, little children living in a garbage dump, or experienced playing soccer with the street children. A wave of anger rises as I realize some of them don't care.


You can walk away... until the broken have a name, and have captivated your heart.
You can smile, buy another coffee, and chatter away politely and pretend this disparity doesn't impact you deeply.
Or you can smile through tears as you recognize and embrace this clashing story line of life. 


This conflicting reality of life stirs deeply. As we reflect on it, we journey {struggle, wrestle, plod, grapple} through the facts. Conflict is a good thing when we can see it as a catalyst to change. Iron sharpens iron. Without intense pain, diamonds and so much beauty wouldn't exist.


God has such an amazing way of bringing redemption by conflict. Sometimes it sets the stage for His amazing gift of grace. Sometimes it heals right in the middle of the wounding. Sometimes the struggle just brings a sense of knowing He is with us. Regardless of how it happens, we are shown more of His glory.