Gilded Cracks

“Brokenness, brokenness is what I long for…” we sang recently at a gathering of fellow believers.  The dear friend leading worship later told me she had prayerfully chosen all the songs with me specifically in mind.  What a gift.  But longing for brokenness?   Wasn’t enough coming my way without longing for it?

And then another friend spoke of a teacup.  Our lives being like a beautiful teacup, shattered and broken beyond recognition.  A master craftsman picks up the pieces, puts them together, and solders them with gold, so that the resulting patterns are beyond the initial beauty of the teacup.

So I am given two pictures; the breaking and the healing.  You can’t have the beauty without the brokenness.  Sometimes I think that I am quite satisfied with the Michelle that I am right now, no more brokenness needed, thank you very much!  But it’s not in my nature to be satisfied with mediocre when I can see fantastic just ahead.

 God looks at me, and thrills at my ambition, but sees what I don’t see.  “What about that unrepented sin?  Or that unresolved relationship?”  I don’t see anything.  But he sees the innermost parts, like a bruise hidden in a piece of ripe fruit.  It needs to come out, be dealt with, so he allows a little crack, a break to occur, and I can see what was there all along.

“Ouch!  That hurts!” I cry out to my Father.  How can he allow such pain? 

“You don’t understand, my child.  This wound has been festering under the skin a long time.  It is going to take some pain to get the infection out.  It must be purified before you can be healed.”

“But if I am forgiven, why is this wreaking such havoc in my life?  Why is the sin of another hurting me so much?”

“My beloved child, are you focusing on Me or your own fear?  Look at me, and you will be safe.”

I’ve taken a silversmith class before.  I know that before proper soldering can occur, all impurities must be burned away.  The refiner’s fire.  We sing about it.  Sitting in it doesn’t feel so good.  The good news is that I am not in the fire alone.  There is One who walks with me.  He takes me by the hand, waits patiently when I try to fix things on my own, and points out the path when I turn back.  He leads me to His father, the Great Physician, Healer of all who are broken.

  The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.  Psalm 34:18

Psalm 130

Ever been there?

From the depths of despair, O Lord,

I call for your help.

Hear my cry, O Lord.

Pay attention to my prayer.

Lord, if you kept a record of our sins,

Who, O Lord, could ever survive?

But you offer forgiveness,

That we might learn to fear you.

I am counting on the Lord:

Yes, I am counting on Him.

I have put my hope in His word.

I long for the Lord

More than sentries long for the dawn,

Yes, more than sentries long for the dawn.

O Israel, hope in the Lord;

For with the Lord there is unfailing love.

His redemption overflows.

He himself will redeem Israel from every kind of sin.

Slogging through the trenches right now…I long for the Lord…

Holiday Dreams

Starbucks’ specialty flavored frappuccinos are back at Wal-Mart for the holidays!  I was overjoyed to see Mint Mocha on the shelves this week as I shopped for groceries.  It was tempting to crack open one of those bottles right there in the aisle and start chugging.

Now that November has hit, holiday items are showing up in all the stores, and in the Colvin household too.  Carina jubilantly streamed lights all over our front porch last week, using the excuse that we should “do it early, while it’s still warm outside.”  The pumpkins are still on display, and Christmas ornaments are already sneaking their way into our rooms.  I baked my first batch of Christmas gift biscotti on Thursday (that’s right, family, you better be nice to me, ‘cause I got the goodies!).   Carina is dreaming about the possibilities of receiving a horse for Christmas (not likely).

This is the first holiday season in a long time where I am looking forward to our activities and obligations.  Instead of feeling anxiety about crowds and strangers, or being nervous in family gatherings, I am anticipating pleasure with family and friends.  Last year, I spent my holidays in a drug-induced haze, needing anxiety medication to even consider going to events.  Now, I am off the anxiety medication, and only take it during extremely stressful times.

It is thrilling to have anticipatory excitement!  I’m sure that there will be stressful times and negative experiences, but I now feel more empowered to deal with those events when they come up.  I have a recipe to follow now, my “recipe for mental health”:

1.        Exercise

2.       Quality sleep

3.       Time in prayer and worship

4.       Medication

5.       Proper nutrition and hydration

It is amazing to see how these five ingredients can improve my ability to think coherently.  Or how quickly I can derail without careful attention to them.  These are things that are simple, easy to implement, and good for anyone.

But during the busy holiday season, it is common to forget to exercise, sleep less, cut my devotional time short, and eat on the run.   

Don’t you realize that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who lives in you and was given to you by God?  You do not belong to yourself, for God bought you with a high price.  So you must honor God with your body.  1 Cor. 6:19-20 (NLT)

Now, more than ever, I am being shown the truth to this verse.  The Holy Spirit lives in me, and He deserves to have a fairly nice place to reside.  Treating my body kindly, not denying or indulging, is a way to show my love to God.  By caring for myself, I am honoring God.  It is not selfish to take time to ensure adequate sleep and exercise occur.  I may feel like I am not being productive by spending an hour in worship when obligations are knocking on the door, but—as I’ve said before—what I feel and what is reality are often quite different things.

Father, focus my thoughts on You during this holiday season.  Give me Your strength to sleep, eat, move, and meditate on what is healthy and holy.  Let’s dream big about what we can do together!

letting go

I’ve been working through the realization that I am no longer employed.   Sure, the job ended five months ago, but I have been holding on to it mentally, emotionally, and physically.

Instead of dealing with the emotions related to the end not only of my job, but also of the entire program that I had devoted nearly seven years of my life to; I rationalized that this was “all for the best.”  For every sad or nostalgic memory, I would bombard myself with reasons why I shouldn’t be working at this time in my life.  I actually kept the boxes from my classroom in the trunk of my car, refusing to bring them into the house and thus acknowledge the end of my job.  Talk about a physical manifestation of emotional baggage!

But during my therapy session last week, I was asked if the holiday of Halloween brought back any difficult memories from work.  I said, “Sure, I do miss not having a party and dressing up and having fun with the kids, but…” and then I went on to talk about all the great reasons why it was a good thing to be staying at home.  It was pointed out to me that I wasn’t allowing myself to properly grieve and feel the emotions related to the loss I was experiencing.

I went home and wrote several journals filled with nothing but memories and unfulfilled wishes.  Then I unpacked the trunk of my car.

The boxes that I brought into my house were filled with school supplies, student artwork, and games.  They all had specific memories attached to them, memories of unique children with distinctive issues.  Children that I have prayed and cried over.  Children who embody so many hopes and dreams, who are filled with so much untapped potential.

I miss those children.  I miss their bad attitudes, snarky comments, and rebellious mannerisms.  I miss their hugs and kisses, their desire to hold my hand on the way to the bathroom, their curious questions about my life.  I have lived such a privileged life—who gets to go to work to play? 

So I am letting go…saying goodbye to Damion, Austin, and Dianne; Madison, Joey, and Clarence; Lacey, Niko, and Xavier.  Goodbye to all the children whose lives I was so blessed to have been a part of.  May my efforts and love make a change in their lives.  Even now, as I pray for them, even though I have no physical presence in their lives anymore, may the Lord bless them.

He put a child in the middle of the room.  Then, cradling the little one in his arms, he said, “Whoever embraces one of these children as I do embraces me, and far more than me-God who sent me.’

I miss the God-presence of the little children.  I miss embracing them.