"You better give up it's time to stop running it's the end of the line, it's time to surrender. Hands up turn it around fall to the ground are you gonna surrender?" Third Day.
"Therefore submit to God." James 4:7a.
I'm becoming increasingly more aware of the fast that I need to surrender my life, will and everything over to Jesus Christ. Surrender and submit both mean literally the same thing. Both words imply "giving up, and allowing oneself to be voluntarily placed under the authority of someone else. This week I asked Jesus what I needed to do in order to be in a deeper relationship with Him and he told me, "completely surrender and submit your life over to me." When I heard these words I literally cried. Because immediately I realized that I've never completely surrendered to anyone.
My past has been trashed by abuse and instances where surrendering and submitting would have been the death of me. In fact, it was precisely not surrendering that saved me. I mean let's look at the evidence. Had I surrendered completely I would still be one of Jehovah's Witnesses today. I would still be sick from the Bulima and I'd still be a smoker. One can surrender to anything; good or bad. A person can easily succumb to the power of any addiction. It is my opinion that you surrender to anything when you give your power away to that particular object. So the words submission and surrender were not in my vocabulary. However, I do not believe for a second that Jesus would ever ask me to do something that I couldn't do. He knows that I'm ready, now I just need to know it.
I have always controlled myself and I like it. Cause if I'm controlling myself I'm calling the shots, playing it safe and protecting me. At least I know that I won't allow myself to be hurt.
However, what I think that I'm really dealing with here is ghosts from the past. In order to completely submit and surrender to Jesus, I must trust Him. Now, in the beginning I said, "No, I will never completely trust anyone ever again, not after my parents and all those other people ended up hurting me." But then I really thought about it. Was I being fair to hold Jesus accountable for everyone else? Next, I had to consider the evidence. When I think about it; every single time that I've ever needed Jesus, He's always came through.... So I already know that He can be trusted. My Pastor believes that Christians need to sit up literal monuments to serve as reminders of times when Jesus has came through for them. For example; if a person gets healed mark it. If a person is blessed with more finances mark it,,,etc. I have to say that I agree with him because I've had many blessings throughout my life but sometimes I just forget them.
Another reason that I know that I can fully submit and surrender to Jesus is because of His character. He never changes, He does not lie, and most importantly, if we belong to Him, He promises to supply everything that we need! In reality; we either believe that He is who He says He is and He'll do what He says He'll do or we don't. Jesus don't want no wishy-washy followers.
So........after all the evidence is taken into consideration my verdict is that surrender and submit, I must. Now I just have to figure out how.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Thursday, July 28, 2011
The Dance
"I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss the dance." Garth Brooks.
It's been nearly three weeks since the passing of my best friend and Grandmother; Lena. Although it's just been a matter of weeks it feels like years. I honestly believe that death has a way of slowing down time. Which is weird because all I've ever heard about getting over the death of a loved one is that the passing of time is the only thing that helps. Kind of a catch 22.
There isn't a single emotion that I haven't gone through. I've went from anger, sadness, carelessness, denial, back to anger and carelessness. I've suffered loss of appetite, insomnia, periods of sobbing, etc. But for the past week, I've just felt heavy. I think that it has taken this long for the truth to actually sink in. The cold hard reality is that a cherished part of my life is really gone and she isn't coming back. What hurts even more is that there's no way to bring her back. This realization has brought me more pain than I ever could have imagined.
My Grandmother and I had talked about her death in great detail. I remember this one conversation that we had when I asked her, "What will I do when you die, Grandma?" She just looked at me, thought about what I asked her and replied, "When I do finally go, just thank the good Lord for having me as long as you did." At the time that comment seemed like the most responsible thing to do. However, it's much harder now that the time is finally here.
I'm actually at the point where I don't think about her ever single second but instead of that being comforting it's a little scary because I'm afraid that eventually I'll forget something about her.
Death has a way of forcing a person to create a new and different life. What I mean is: a person has to adjust to living without the other person in it. It's strange but accept for certain items and memories,it's like the person never existed.
I can say with all certainty that the only way that I've gotten through this is by running to Jesus. I've cried out to Him literally ever hour of the day. He is the only reason that I haven't pulled the covers over my head and just "wallowed" (thanks Pastor Ron) in my own misery.
When every thing is said and done I know that even if I had to go through this pain all over again in order to have a relationship with my dear, friend, that I'd do it without a moments hesitation. Cause I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss the dance, and I would not have missed out on the opportunity of loving my Grandmother for the entire world.
It's been nearly three weeks since the passing of my best friend and Grandmother; Lena. Although it's just been a matter of weeks it feels like years. I honestly believe that death has a way of slowing down time. Which is weird because all I've ever heard about getting over the death of a loved one is that the passing of time is the only thing that helps. Kind of a catch 22.
There isn't a single emotion that I haven't gone through. I've went from anger, sadness, carelessness, denial, back to anger and carelessness. I've suffered loss of appetite, insomnia, periods of sobbing, etc. But for the past week, I've just felt heavy. I think that it has taken this long for the truth to actually sink in. The cold hard reality is that a cherished part of my life is really gone and she isn't coming back. What hurts even more is that there's no way to bring her back. This realization has brought me more pain than I ever could have imagined.
My Grandmother and I had talked about her death in great detail. I remember this one conversation that we had when I asked her, "What will I do when you die, Grandma?" She just looked at me, thought about what I asked her and replied, "When I do finally go, just thank the good Lord for having me as long as you did." At the time that comment seemed like the most responsible thing to do. However, it's much harder now that the time is finally here.
I'm actually at the point where I don't think about her ever single second but instead of that being comforting it's a little scary because I'm afraid that eventually I'll forget something about her.
Death has a way of forcing a person to create a new and different life. What I mean is: a person has to adjust to living without the other person in it. It's strange but accept for certain items and memories,it's like the person never existed.
I can say with all certainty that the only way that I've gotten through this is by running to Jesus. I've cried out to Him literally ever hour of the day. He is the only reason that I haven't pulled the covers over my head and just "wallowed" (thanks Pastor Ron) in my own misery.
When every thing is said and done I know that even if I had to go through this pain all over again in order to have a relationship with my dear, friend, that I'd do it without a moments hesitation. Cause I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss the dance, and I would not have missed out on the opportunity of loving my Grandmother for the entire world.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Oh Lord It's Hard To Be Human
"But you love me anyway. It's like noting in life, that's I've ever known, yes, you love me anyway. Oh Lord, how you love me."
As far as I'm concerned there are only two absolutes in my life. One, I'm definitely human and two; God chooses to love me in spite of myself. That really is amazing when I stop and think about it. The love of our Heavenly Father is remarkable. What really gets me is that there is absolutely nothing that I can do to earn it. There is nothing that I can do to deserve it, never the less, He continues to give it away "freely" to each one of us, even the ones who flat out reject Him. "For He gives His sunlight to both the evil and the good, and He sends rain on the just and the unjust alike." Matthew 5:45b.
I mean think about it; we are nothing special because we love God. Rather, we are special because He loves us. I don't know about you but that just gives me warm fuzzes all over.
When I think about "all" the times that I've fallen short of His commandments I'm over whelmed by the fact that He still even wants to talk to me. Yet, each time that I have fallen short, and confessed my mistake He has always said, "I-yes, I alone-will blot out your sins for my own sake and will never think of them again." Isaiah 43:25. In my opinion this is one of the most powerful verses in the entire Bible. God doesn't say that He forgets our mistakes for our sakes, He say's that He forgets our short comings for His sake! He wants to love us! Praise God! He genuinely wants to love us! That is a remarkable, humbling, thought.
I think that the reason that He chooses to do this is because He's Papa.
Although I am imperfect, I'm a parent. And being a mother or father is the closest thing that I can think of to anything that even closely resembles the love of God. My nine year old can definitely test and try my patience. She can really make some bad choices and she has. With each unwise choice that she's ever made (and believe me, she's made them) I still love her, I've never stopped, even when her actions mean administering a consequence. I address the situation that's immediately at hand, hand down the sentence and then I move on. This is exactly what God does!
Jesus said that if we as imperfect and wicked people know how to extend love and good things to our children, how much more so can our perfect father in heaven do so for His.
At the beginning of this blog I quoted the lyrics to a song: "He loves me anyway." These are not just pretty words; they are truth. God has loved me my entire life and I'm just now starting to realize just how much.
So, is it hard to be human? Yes. Do we make mistakes? Yes. However, I'm here to tell you that God loves you in spite of everything, and He loves you through everything. Not because of what you've done, but because of who He is. And who is He? He's PAPA. He is love. He simply can not be anything else. Wow!
As far as I'm concerned there are only two absolutes in my life. One, I'm definitely human and two; God chooses to love me in spite of myself. That really is amazing when I stop and think about it. The love of our Heavenly Father is remarkable. What really gets me is that there is absolutely nothing that I can do to earn it. There is nothing that I can do to deserve it, never the less, He continues to give it away "freely" to each one of us, even the ones who flat out reject Him. "For He gives His sunlight to both the evil and the good, and He sends rain on the just and the unjust alike." Matthew 5:45b.
I mean think about it; we are nothing special because we love God. Rather, we are special because He loves us. I don't know about you but that just gives me warm fuzzes all over.
When I think about "all" the times that I've fallen short of His commandments I'm over whelmed by the fact that He still even wants to talk to me. Yet, each time that I have fallen short, and confessed my mistake He has always said, "I-yes, I alone-will blot out your sins for my own sake and will never think of them again." Isaiah 43:25. In my opinion this is one of the most powerful verses in the entire Bible. God doesn't say that He forgets our mistakes for our sakes, He say's that He forgets our short comings for His sake! He wants to love us! Praise God! He genuinely wants to love us! That is a remarkable, humbling, thought.
I think that the reason that He chooses to do this is because He's Papa.
Although I am imperfect, I'm a parent. And being a mother or father is the closest thing that I can think of to anything that even closely resembles the love of God. My nine year old can definitely test and try my patience. She can really make some bad choices and she has. With each unwise choice that she's ever made (and believe me, she's made them) I still love her, I've never stopped, even when her actions mean administering a consequence. I address the situation that's immediately at hand, hand down the sentence and then I move on. This is exactly what God does!
Jesus said that if we as imperfect and wicked people know how to extend love and good things to our children, how much more so can our perfect father in heaven do so for His.
At the beginning of this blog I quoted the lyrics to a song: "He loves me anyway." These are not just pretty words; they are truth. God has loved me my entire life and I'm just now starting to realize just how much.
So, is it hard to be human? Yes. Do we make mistakes? Yes. However, I'm here to tell you that God loves you in spite of everything, and He loves you through everything. Not because of what you've done, but because of who He is. And who is He? He's PAPA. He is love. He simply can not be anything else. Wow!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Never Allow Your Past to Determine Your Future.
"I focus on this one thing: forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead." Philippians 3:13.
Exactly 10 days ago my Grandmother Lena passed away. I can honestly say that although I loved her dearly, I never really knew her. Something happened to Grandma that changed her life and personality forever.
On a crisp March morning in 1942 my Grandmother walked out of the front door of her tiny two room house to go and draw some drinking water from her neighbors well. She quickly assessed the situation and decided to leave her three children, all under the age of 5, at home. There was just no way that she could possibly manage to control the hyper 5 year old, while carrying the 2 year old on one hip, and still hold the sleeping 6 month old, and still have a hand left over to carry buckets of water down the steep hill. She concluded that the trip on foot would take less than ten minutes and she'd be right back.
Grandma had no sooner gotten the water when she heard shouts from passersby warning that a house was on fire! Call it a mothers intuition, or simply call it a knowing, but Grandma knew immediately that it was her house that was up in flames and she also knew that her three babies were still trapped on the inside. Next, she dropped her buckets of water and immediately ran with bare feet up the rocky incline to what once had been her house. Unfortunately, it was too late, the fire was out of control and the children could not be rescued.
No mother should ever go through what my Grandmother went through. I'm sure that the pain that she felt and tears that she cried were innumerable. But the biggest tragedy of all; was that Grandma stayed trapped in the past and never got on with the future. She stayed a prisoner of her pain and she built a wall around her heart and she never allowed anyone inside, not even God. She never spoke of the fire or the deaths of her children unless someone forced her to, and that someone was always me. I can tell you that when she did speak of the fire she'd get very uncomfortable. Her eyes would start to dart around the room and she would look at everything but my face. I understood that the experience was very painful for her and that's why I wanted her to talk about it.
I wish that I could say that Grandma used her pain to comfort others, but she didn't. I would love to tell you that she completely let go of the past and trusted God in the last days of her life, but she didn't.
When I walked into the funeral home 6 days ago: my first thought was that time had ran out. She had no more tomorrows to live. No more chances to laugh, had no more opportunities to forgive and forget, or be a blessing to someone else. There were no more chances to reach out to other hurting mothers who may have lost children. The truth is; unlimited potential died with Grandma. She could have absolutely rocked this world with her experiences and wisdom, but instead it all stayed locked inside and was buried with her.
Believe it or not, I've learned more from Grandma's death then I did from her life.
In my last couple of blog posts I've complained how that being raised as one of Jehovah's Witnesses has prevented me from fully trusting others and therefore I concluded that because I couldn't trust others, than I couldn't trust God completely. Why it's been so easy for me to blame God for everything that has happened to me in my past I'll never know. Why I would count all other people as untrustworthy just because I was mistreated by one religious group no longer makes any sense.
Take the advice of someone who has had to learn a hard lesson; if you want any kind of successful future, you must close and lock the door on the past. Then you must determine to fix you focus on what lies ahead in the future. At long last I've learned that my past did not keep me from my future, I did. I'm the one who determines whether I control my past, or my past controls me.
Exactly 10 days ago my Grandmother Lena passed away. I can honestly say that although I loved her dearly, I never really knew her. Something happened to Grandma that changed her life and personality forever.
On a crisp March morning in 1942 my Grandmother walked out of the front door of her tiny two room house to go and draw some drinking water from her neighbors well. She quickly assessed the situation and decided to leave her three children, all under the age of 5, at home. There was just no way that she could possibly manage to control the hyper 5 year old, while carrying the 2 year old on one hip, and still hold the sleeping 6 month old, and still have a hand left over to carry buckets of water down the steep hill. She concluded that the trip on foot would take less than ten minutes and she'd be right back.
Grandma had no sooner gotten the water when she heard shouts from passersby warning that a house was on fire! Call it a mothers intuition, or simply call it a knowing, but Grandma knew immediately that it was her house that was up in flames and she also knew that her three babies were still trapped on the inside. Next, she dropped her buckets of water and immediately ran with bare feet up the rocky incline to what once had been her house. Unfortunately, it was too late, the fire was out of control and the children could not be rescued.
No mother should ever go through what my Grandmother went through. I'm sure that the pain that she felt and tears that she cried were innumerable. But the biggest tragedy of all; was that Grandma stayed trapped in the past and never got on with the future. She stayed a prisoner of her pain and she built a wall around her heart and she never allowed anyone inside, not even God. She never spoke of the fire or the deaths of her children unless someone forced her to, and that someone was always me. I can tell you that when she did speak of the fire she'd get very uncomfortable. Her eyes would start to dart around the room and she would look at everything but my face. I understood that the experience was very painful for her and that's why I wanted her to talk about it.
I wish that I could say that Grandma used her pain to comfort others, but she didn't. I would love to tell you that she completely let go of the past and trusted God in the last days of her life, but she didn't.
When I walked into the funeral home 6 days ago: my first thought was that time had ran out. She had no more tomorrows to live. No more chances to laugh, had no more opportunities to forgive and forget, or be a blessing to someone else. There were no more chances to reach out to other hurting mothers who may have lost children. The truth is; unlimited potential died with Grandma. She could have absolutely rocked this world with her experiences and wisdom, but instead it all stayed locked inside and was buried with her.
Believe it or not, I've learned more from Grandma's death then I did from her life.
In my last couple of blog posts I've complained how that being raised as one of Jehovah's Witnesses has prevented me from fully trusting others and therefore I concluded that because I couldn't trust others, than I couldn't trust God completely. Why it's been so easy for me to blame God for everything that has happened to me in my past I'll never know. Why I would count all other people as untrustworthy just because I was mistreated by one religious group no longer makes any sense.
Take the advice of someone who has had to learn a hard lesson; if you want any kind of successful future, you must close and lock the door on the past. Then you must determine to fix you focus on what lies ahead in the future. At long last I've learned that my past did not keep me from my future, I did. I'm the one who determines whether I control my past, or my past controls me.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Is Faith Possible?
It seems that everywhere I look in the Bible I am reminded to trust God. I'm warned that, "Without faith it is impossible to please Him. Guess my question is; Is it possible for me to fully trust God when I don't even fully trust humans? I would assume that trust would have to come first before faith ever could.
Trust is; the assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something. Whereas, faith is; complete trust. It is my opinion that trust has to come first.
In an ideal world where children are loved, valued and unconditionally accepted by their parents, they learn that the world is good and that people are safe. However, in a dysfunctional world (like the world I grew up in) where children were treated as inferior, where they were to be seen and not heard and constantly degraded, and what little bit of love that they got was always based on conditions, the children see the world and other people as unsafe, untrustworthy and uncaring. Ironically, this was not God's intended purpose. Because from all the research I've ever read, babies are born into this world with the innate ability to automatically trust. When a baby is first born they cry in order to get their basic needs met. When the cries and needs are responded to the infant learns very quickly that crying does the trick. However, in some case's where abuse and neglect has played a major factor the studies have shown that some infants whose needs go unattended over an extended period of time will eventually stop crying altogether. My point is: we all have learned how to survive from what our environments have taught us.
Then if the person has suffered from any type of social, peer or authoritative abuse (minsters, or school teachers) this only serves to enhance the mistrust. Then to put the icing on the cake, for those same children to be brought up in a strict, religious organization where they are repeatedly taught that God's love and acceptance are only available if they do everything exactly right; the odds of them growing up to become adults who just trust everyone is slim to none.
I'm beginning to believe that it is unrealistic to expect someone who has been a victim of; physical, emotional, verbal, mental and spiritual abuse to automatically trust; even God. Here's the funny thing, I want to. I desperately want to "totally" trust Jesus. But I know Him well enough to know that pretending to do something that I do not really mean or believe is far worse than not doing it at all.
Please understand that I am not confronting these issues to be negative or to gain sympathy. But these feelings do exist and ignoring them is only serving to keep me sicker. And God is a God of "Truth". If I cannot take my fears and frustrations to Him, then who can I take them to?
Honestly, what I'm truly tired of hearing is, "Just have faith, sister, God loves you". Are those words for my benefit or a quick response for others so that they can give an obligatory pat on the back and walk away unaffected?
Just allow me to say that I do believe that a person can not blame the past forever. We all must move forward at one point. However, my question still remains; how am I suppose to "fully" trust Jesus when I've yet to learn how to trust others. Unfortunately, trust and faith are not readily available. I mean I can't educate myself and obtain them, nor can I buy them. These are hard questions, but I can almost guarantee you that I'm not the only one who's asking them. Truth is; in the Christian community if a person makes statements like this, he or she is automatically labeled as a doubter or spiritually weak. And I think that this is sad. Paul said that as Christians, "We are to weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice". Romans 12:15.
So,,,,,what's the solution? It would appear that only God holds the answer.
`
Trust is; the assured reliance on the character, ability, strength, or truth of someone or something. Whereas, faith is; complete trust. It is my opinion that trust has to come first.
In an ideal world where children are loved, valued and unconditionally accepted by their parents, they learn that the world is good and that people are safe. However, in a dysfunctional world (like the world I grew up in) where children were treated as inferior, where they were to be seen and not heard and constantly degraded, and what little bit of love that they got was always based on conditions, the children see the world and other people as unsafe, untrustworthy and uncaring. Ironically, this was not God's intended purpose. Because from all the research I've ever read, babies are born into this world with the innate ability to automatically trust. When a baby is first born they cry in order to get their basic needs met. When the cries and needs are responded to the infant learns very quickly that crying does the trick. However, in some case's where abuse and neglect has played a major factor the studies have shown that some infants whose needs go unattended over an extended period of time will eventually stop crying altogether. My point is: we all have learned how to survive from what our environments have taught us.
Then if the person has suffered from any type of social, peer or authoritative abuse (minsters, or school teachers) this only serves to enhance the mistrust. Then to put the icing on the cake, for those same children to be brought up in a strict, religious organization where they are repeatedly taught that God's love and acceptance are only available if they do everything exactly right; the odds of them growing up to become adults who just trust everyone is slim to none.
I'm beginning to believe that it is unrealistic to expect someone who has been a victim of; physical, emotional, verbal, mental and spiritual abuse to automatically trust; even God. Here's the funny thing, I want to. I desperately want to "totally" trust Jesus. But I know Him well enough to know that pretending to do something that I do not really mean or believe is far worse than not doing it at all.
Please understand that I am not confronting these issues to be negative or to gain sympathy. But these feelings do exist and ignoring them is only serving to keep me sicker. And God is a God of "Truth". If I cannot take my fears and frustrations to Him, then who can I take them to?
Honestly, what I'm truly tired of hearing is, "Just have faith, sister, God loves you". Are those words for my benefit or a quick response for others so that they can give an obligatory pat on the back and walk away unaffected?
Just allow me to say that I do believe that a person can not blame the past forever. We all must move forward at one point. However, my question still remains; how am I suppose to "fully" trust Jesus when I've yet to learn how to trust others. Unfortunately, trust and faith are not readily available. I mean I can't educate myself and obtain them, nor can I buy them. These are hard questions, but I can almost guarantee you that I'm not the only one who's asking them. Truth is; in the Christian community if a person makes statements like this, he or she is automatically labeled as a doubter or spiritually weak. And I think that this is sad. Paul said that as Christians, "We are to weep with those who weep and rejoice with those who rejoice". Romans 12:15.
So,,,,,what's the solution? It would appear that only God holds the answer.
`
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Will I Ever Feel Socially Accepted?
Before I felt convicted to give them up, one of my favorite things to do was watch horror movies. Halloween H20 was my pick and I must have watched it a couple hundred times. Lori, who just so happened to be the half sister of Michael Myers constantly looked over her shoulder because she lived in fear. Deep down inside she was afraid that her psycho stepbrother would somehow find her, and come back to murder her. As a result her life was in total shambles. She secretly drank too much, was overly protective of her teenage son and distanced herself from her boyfriend who was a counselor.
Finally, at one point when the pain became nearly unbearable she asks her boyfriend this question; "Do you think that it's possible to have something so bad happen to you that you never recover?" He replied, "I like to think that recovery is always possible." Although, this is a fictional line from a horror flick I can relate. I've asked myself the same question hundreds of times.
When I was nineteen years old I lost all of my family and all of my friends in one single day. I was one of Jehovah's Witnesses and my entire social world centered around this organization. Because I broke one of their rules I got tossed from the congregation while all of my social network was still inside. I was left with no contact whatsoever. I was alone, with no one. This type of traumatic experience can leave a scar. I know that it has for me.
I guess my question would be; "Do you think that it's possible to be so afraid of people leaving you that you never feel comfortable around them?' This is exactly the position that I find myself in. I mean I feel like I'm always in a catch 22, or double-bind. On the one hand: I love people, am very social and conversational. However, on the other hand: I am terrified of people, they make me nervous.
Honestly, I never knew how strong these feelings were until recently. See, in the past I've ran from one mega church to the next. I've happily slipped into large auditoriums and slipped out undetected. This was safe and I enjoyed the noncommittal feelings. The Pastor's were doing their own things and were much to busy to notice me, which suited me just fine. I could smile on the surface and cordially carry on small talk and kaboom that was it. Of course I didn't have to speak with anyone if I didn't want too. Ah,,, those were the good ole days.....
Around 2 months ago my family and I started attending a different church. This church is very small and very intimate. Everyone knows precisely when I come in and everyone knows when I leave. The Pastor is never doing his own thing and he never allows himself to become too busy to talk with his congregation. In fact, if a person doesn't find find him, he will find them.
This church is a supportive, nurturing, environment. Sounds like I would be perfectly at ease, doesn't it? But I'm mot. I'm terrified. Each week I have to fight down waves of panic before I even enter the building. It never fails that every time I approach these warm loving people, I have this intense feeling that they can't stand me, and they can't wait for me to leave so that they can talk about me. And if I see the caring Pastor approaching, I start to feel nauseous and my heart starts beating so fast that I'm afraid that it might come out of my chest. So, I immediately start asking him questions before he can ask me anything. Why do I have these reactions? At the moment I'm not sure, but I think that I can take an educated guess.
I'm afraid of not being socially accepted. Maybe, I'm still scarred from all of my friends and family abandoning me. Maybe, deep down inside, I'm afraid that if I make a mistake people will leave me. I'm not entirely sure if figuring out what triggers these feelings is important; all I know is that it's one of the most unpleasant feeling that I've ever experienced. So far, I've been successful at being social despite these feelings, but.... I literally don't know how to complete this sentence.
I believe that the secrets that we hold in the dark only serve to keep us sicker. If the devil can make us ashamed of them and afraid of telling other's what they are, then he has us right where he wants us. He does not want us to be free; instead, he wants us immobile and frozen in fear. So... I've made the decision to share my experiences so that I can stop carrying the burdens along and so that others who carry the same burden will realize that they are not by themselves.
"God has not given me a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline." 2 Timothy 1:7. I'm still working on this promise, right now it's easier for me to read it, than to actually experience it.
Finally, at one point when the pain became nearly unbearable she asks her boyfriend this question; "Do you think that it's possible to have something so bad happen to you that you never recover?" He replied, "I like to think that recovery is always possible." Although, this is a fictional line from a horror flick I can relate. I've asked myself the same question hundreds of times.
When I was nineteen years old I lost all of my family and all of my friends in one single day. I was one of Jehovah's Witnesses and my entire social world centered around this organization. Because I broke one of their rules I got tossed from the congregation while all of my social network was still inside. I was left with no contact whatsoever. I was alone, with no one. This type of traumatic experience can leave a scar. I know that it has for me.
I guess my question would be; "Do you think that it's possible to be so afraid of people leaving you that you never feel comfortable around them?' This is exactly the position that I find myself in. I mean I feel like I'm always in a catch 22, or double-bind. On the one hand: I love people, am very social and conversational. However, on the other hand: I am terrified of people, they make me nervous.
Honestly, I never knew how strong these feelings were until recently. See, in the past I've ran from one mega church to the next. I've happily slipped into large auditoriums and slipped out undetected. This was safe and I enjoyed the noncommittal feelings. The Pastor's were doing their own things and were much to busy to notice me, which suited me just fine. I could smile on the surface and cordially carry on small talk and kaboom that was it. Of course I didn't have to speak with anyone if I didn't want too. Ah,,, those were the good ole days.....
Around 2 months ago my family and I started attending a different church. This church is very small and very intimate. Everyone knows precisely when I come in and everyone knows when I leave. The Pastor is never doing his own thing and he never allows himself to become too busy to talk with his congregation. In fact, if a person doesn't find find him, he will find them.
This church is a supportive, nurturing, environment. Sounds like I would be perfectly at ease, doesn't it? But I'm mot. I'm terrified. Each week I have to fight down waves of panic before I even enter the building. It never fails that every time I approach these warm loving people, I have this intense feeling that they can't stand me, and they can't wait for me to leave so that they can talk about me. And if I see the caring Pastor approaching, I start to feel nauseous and my heart starts beating so fast that I'm afraid that it might come out of my chest. So, I immediately start asking him questions before he can ask me anything. Why do I have these reactions? At the moment I'm not sure, but I think that I can take an educated guess.
I'm afraid of not being socially accepted. Maybe, I'm still scarred from all of my friends and family abandoning me. Maybe, deep down inside, I'm afraid that if I make a mistake people will leave me. I'm not entirely sure if figuring out what triggers these feelings is important; all I know is that it's one of the most unpleasant feeling that I've ever experienced. So far, I've been successful at being social despite these feelings, but.... I literally don't know how to complete this sentence.
I believe that the secrets that we hold in the dark only serve to keep us sicker. If the devil can make us ashamed of them and afraid of telling other's what they are, then he has us right where he wants us. He does not want us to be free; instead, he wants us immobile and frozen in fear. So... I've made the decision to share my experiences so that I can stop carrying the burdens along and so that others who carry the same burden will realize that they are not by themselves.
"God has not given me a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline." 2 Timothy 1:7. I'm still working on this promise, right now it's easier for me to read it, than to actually experience it.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Do You Call Your "Earthly" Father by His First Name?
All growing up I did not know God by any other name besides Jehovah. If I made an innocent mistake and called Him; God, I would get a sharp rebuke from my mother, or by any other adult Jehovah Witness who just happened to be within ear shot.
I cannot tell you the times that I was reminded that God's name was Jehovah and that if I wanted Him to listen and receive my prayers than I'd better call Him by His personal name. For the typical witness using the name Jehovah is never an option, it's always a rule.
After I finally left the organization in 2003, I detested that name. I literally could not say it without a vile taste coming up into my throat. To be honest I never took the time to analyze why I felt this way, I merely assumed that I was repulsed by the name. How wrong I was.
One of the first things that I needed to establish is if the name "Jehovah" had any merit. In the Old Testament (OT) that was originally written in Hebrew the name "Yahweh" was repeatedly used. History reveals that ancient Hebrews changed the pronunciation of the word "Yahweh" to Jehovah. Which has been translated into the English word "LORD." In the original transcripts of scripture "Yahweh" appears over 6,000 times in the OT. In fact, research proves that "Yahweh" is the most frequently used name that God used to describe Himself in the OT. According to the founder and director of Single Life Ministry's Dick Purnell, "God deliberately calls Himself "Jehovah" throughout the OT to constantly remind us that He along processes the ultimate sovereignty; that is the right to rule over creation."
After taking this evidence into consideration, I concluded that the name "Jehovah" did have merit.
Next, I needed to dig deep and try and find out why I was so offended and agitated whenever I read or heard that name being used. What I found interesting about my logic was when I heard the name "Satan" being used I did not become offended or agitated. It's strange, but even the name of God's arch enemy didn't bother me, but one of the names used to identify the God of the OT did?
I have a theory that it was never the name "Jehovah" that offended me. Instead, it was the organization that promoted that name that ticked me off. The witness organization perverted that name, by verbally abusing me with it. By not allowing me the freedom of referring to God in a way that made me feel comfortable they took something that was made good and turned it into something bad. I mean think about it, if a man uses his belt to hold up his pants the belt has a good purpose. However, if he uses that same belt to beat his wife and kids, that belt then becomes a weapon instead of a piece of clothing.
So..... do I still find the name "Jehovah" offensive? No way. See, I've learned that "Jehovah" is my Father! He isn't just this authoritarian figure who is keeping close tabs on me, and when I fail to measure up, He's then gonna spatter my guts all over the place at the battle of Armageddon. Sadly, as a witness this is all that I had been taught about Jehovah and I can assure you that this is a very narrow view of God the Father.
However, I'd be lying if I said that it was easy for me to use the name Jehovah, because it was not. I can tell you that less than two years ago I still would not use the name. Thankfully I received a revelation that changed my life. "But when the right time came, God sent His Son, born of a woman, subject to the law. God sent Him to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so that He could adopt us as His very own children. And because we are His children, God sent the Spirit of His son into our hearts, prompting us to call out, "Abba, Father." Now, you are no longer a slave but God's own child. Galatians 4: 4-7. God sent Jesus to buy freedom for me!!!!! I am His daughter, and because He has adopted me, I not only have the right to call Him Father, I have the right to call Him; Papa!!! And I do call Him that! I've called Him Papa for almost two years now. As soon as I got the understanding that I had the right to call God; Father, Daddy, Abba, or Papa the name "Jehovah" stopped being offensive!
Let me just leave everyone with this thought: How many father's do you know who allow or even want their children calling them by their first names? Finally, what did Jesus call God while He was on earth? What did He instruct "others" to call God when they prayed to Him in the Lord's Prayer? Think about it.
I cannot tell you the times that I was reminded that God's name was Jehovah and that if I wanted Him to listen and receive my prayers than I'd better call Him by His personal name. For the typical witness using the name Jehovah is never an option, it's always a rule.
After I finally left the organization in 2003, I detested that name. I literally could not say it without a vile taste coming up into my throat. To be honest I never took the time to analyze why I felt this way, I merely assumed that I was repulsed by the name. How wrong I was.
One of the first things that I needed to establish is if the name "Jehovah" had any merit. In the Old Testament (OT) that was originally written in Hebrew the name "Yahweh" was repeatedly used. History reveals that ancient Hebrews changed the pronunciation of the word "Yahweh" to Jehovah. Which has been translated into the English word "LORD." In the original transcripts of scripture "Yahweh" appears over 6,000 times in the OT. In fact, research proves that "Yahweh" is the most frequently used name that God used to describe Himself in the OT. According to the founder and director of Single Life Ministry's Dick Purnell, "God deliberately calls Himself "Jehovah" throughout the OT to constantly remind us that He along processes the ultimate sovereignty; that is the right to rule over creation."
After taking this evidence into consideration, I concluded that the name "Jehovah" did have merit.
Next, I needed to dig deep and try and find out why I was so offended and agitated whenever I read or heard that name being used. What I found interesting about my logic was when I heard the name "Satan" being used I did not become offended or agitated. It's strange, but even the name of God's arch enemy didn't bother me, but one of the names used to identify the God of the OT did?
I have a theory that it was never the name "Jehovah" that offended me. Instead, it was the organization that promoted that name that ticked me off. The witness organization perverted that name, by verbally abusing me with it. By not allowing me the freedom of referring to God in a way that made me feel comfortable they took something that was made good and turned it into something bad. I mean think about it, if a man uses his belt to hold up his pants the belt has a good purpose. However, if he uses that same belt to beat his wife and kids, that belt then becomes a weapon instead of a piece of clothing.
So..... do I still find the name "Jehovah" offensive? No way. See, I've learned that "Jehovah" is my Father! He isn't just this authoritarian figure who is keeping close tabs on me, and when I fail to measure up, He's then gonna spatter my guts all over the place at the battle of Armageddon. Sadly, as a witness this is all that I had been taught about Jehovah and I can assure you that this is a very narrow view of God the Father.
However, I'd be lying if I said that it was easy for me to use the name Jehovah, because it was not. I can tell you that less than two years ago I still would not use the name. Thankfully I received a revelation that changed my life. "But when the right time came, God sent His Son, born of a woman, subject to the law. God sent Him to buy freedom for us who were slaves to the law, so that He could adopt us as His very own children. And because we are His children, God sent the Spirit of His son into our hearts, prompting us to call out, "Abba, Father." Now, you are no longer a slave but God's own child. Galatians 4: 4-7. God sent Jesus to buy freedom for me!!!!! I am His daughter, and because He has adopted me, I not only have the right to call Him Father, I have the right to call Him; Papa!!! And I do call Him that! I've called Him Papa for almost two years now. As soon as I got the understanding that I had the right to call God; Father, Daddy, Abba, or Papa the name "Jehovah" stopped being offensive!
Let me just leave everyone with this thought: How many father's do you know who allow or even want their children calling them by their first names? Finally, what did Jesus call God while He was on earth? What did He instruct "others" to call God when they prayed to Him in the Lord's Prayer? Think about it.
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