Insecurity

G threw a hissy fit tonight of epic proportions. He yelled, threw a pillow and stomped his way up the stairs as I sent him to bed for his behavior. Once he had calmed down, he actually began crying for a different reason. He said he was worried I wouldn't love him anymore.

Of course, I explained to him that there was nothing he could ever do to make me stop loving him. Nothing. No matter how many ugly things he did, no matter how many times he screamed at me, no matter how naughty he might be, I would always love him. It took a while to convince him that discipline didn't take away love.

Why is he is so insecure? Why does he doubt my love for him? As I thought about it more, I realized that I do the same thing with God. Things happen to me and I question his love. I wonder if the bad things that happen to me are the result of His disappointment in me. Why, if He loves me so much, does He allow the bad?

I still sit on the fence here honestly. While my head knows that I deserve discipline just like any child, my heart doesn't completely understand it. Are the 'bad' things really discipline? Or does He just choose to let them happen? Why does it seem like the people who try the hardest end up with the roughest road and the ones who act the worst have a charmed life?

I just want reassurance. I want to know that His love for me is unconditional. I want to believe there is a greater plan. I want Him to wrap His arms around me and tell me He will always love me, just like G.

I'm praying for the strength to hear His words, to see His love and to feel His arms.

What I Want

I am feeling so down today. I'll just put it out there plain and simple. There has been no dramatic events this weekend, no crazy roller coaster to put my emotions on high alert. I'm just down.

I'm lonely. Yes, I have a fantastic family and a great job. But I would like the occasional date or even a boyfriend to share the grown up moments with. I'd like to be taken out to dinner every now and then. I'd like it if someone found me attractive. I'd like to feel the butterflies in my stomach when you have that someone special to connect with.

I want my own place. I want to make my own rules for me and my son. I want to be the one to enforce them when needed and decide to throw them to the wind when I want to. I want us to eat healthy every single day without having to think if someone else will enjoy the dinner I make. I want to decorate how I like to, not to someone else's taste.

I want more students at our school. I want a higher salary and to be financially stable. I want to be sure what I am doing is the right thing and to know that I am making a difference in the kids' lives. I want my son to thrive in the Montessori environment. I want him to love that school as much as I do and to value the friends he has there.

I want to be able to take G off his medicine. I want his body to cooperate with his mind so that he can calm down and learn without having to take medication with potential side effects just to get through the lessons. I want him to let go of his anger and be a happy-go-lucky six year old. I want all of the hurts of his past to be laid down and for him to move forward, never having to look back.

I want to stop wondering what comes next. I want to know that the evil that has haunted us for 6 years is utterly and completely gone. Finished. Permanently. I want to stop looking over my shoulder at every turn and just move forward with my life and the life of my child.

I want to laugh, truly laugh, again. I want to be so full of joy that it oozes out of me. I want to walk around with a silly smile on my face because I just can't contain my joy.

I want it all. Is that too much to ask?

Laying them down

I have so much on my mind these days and it's hard to put it into words; well, coherent ones anyway. My heart is being torn in different directions over many different things. So I'll dive right in and apologize now for the ramblings.

G's last visit with his dad was not good. Dad apparently broke some major rules with the case worker. Luckily we were gone when this happened and G didn't see it, but I am praying this is the straw that broke the camel's back. After about 5 weeks, G had to go see him again and I was really mad at God that He had allowed it. It toys with G's emotions in a way that is completely unfair. But after these latest events, there is a real hope that this might be the end. So I'm waiting with baited breath to find out from the case worker in an official capacity what this means. Please, please pray for us that this horrible chapter in our lives is over. Permanently. Forever.

Totally unrelated, I met a man about 2 years ago. We've been emailing back and forth since that time but it was sporadic, until about the last 6 months. Then we began talking much more often. He asked me out, but I wasn't sure I was ready at the time. We kept on chatting. I've gotten to know him better and for lack of a better word, I am smitten. I'm ready to date him but now the roles have reversed. He told me he was still interested but has been hit with some really trying times, financially included, and he doesn't feel he can date now. My heart says he is honest and the timing is just off here but at the same time I feel rejected.

After 6 years of saying that I would never date again, I am really interested in this guy. He seems so incredibly kind and gentle...and that is what I crave. He says he is the 'nice guy' that always gets hurt and is fearful it will happen again. I get that. I'm the female version of that scenario. I know my words to him are lip service at this point. He doesn't know that I have been hurt so many times that I've lost count. He doesn't know how terrified I was to even start talking to him on a personal level. He doesn't know that I had resigned myself to living alone and focus on raising my son. He doesn't know that I had prayed to God to take away any desire I would ever have to be with another man again. That's how scared I was to make another  mistake.

I don't know what it is now. I don't know why I've put myself out there to him. I don't know what he has said or done that has me wanting to know more. I cannot explain it. I just feel myself being drawn to him. It sounds completely crazy. We've only seen each other face to face once where we've had the chance to talk and that was only for a few minutes. All I know is that I want to be in his world and I want to know him better. And now it doesn't look like that is going to happen.

So last night I stayed up most of the night, trying to sort out my emotions. I cried, I prayed and I repeatedly went over and over these things in my head. I want to take G by the hand and walk away from his dad forever. I want to close this section of our lives so that we never, ever have to think about it again. And then I want to walk toward my friend and see him with his arms outstretched to welcome me in. But I can't do either of those. These things are out of my control and that absolutely sucks.

Please pray for us as we navigate these waters. I don't know what is going happen in either situation.  I know what I am hoping for, but I also know that my hopes are not always God's plans. I'm trying desperately to turn them over to Him but it is hard to let go. Please join me in laying our troubles at the feet of Jesus...

Don't know why I'm surprised...

Don't know why I'm surprised...God's always used music to talk to me and this week was no different. I was listening to a country song, kinda sappy, kinda wistful. The lyrics, sung by a band called Sugarland, meant something completely different to me when I began listening. I originally thought of a friend having a hard time. I identified with wanting to be there for that person, hoping that he would feel safe enough with me to turn to me when things got rough.

My thoughts then turned to G. Having some tough discipline choices this week, I've drawn a line with him in order to teach him some lessons. Ones he really needed, but that hurt just the same. After an especially hard time on Friday night, he had screamed, cried and begged for me to change the rules. I didn't give in. But at the end of it all, he still came to my lap for a hug and a quiet whisper of, " I love you Mama."

As I was thanking God for the opportunity to love on my guy, the thought came to me that the song was also about Him. He wants to be the one we reach for first. He wants us to turn to Him when the times are hard. After all, He already knows all about it. He's ready with arms open wide. Just like the song says, we don't have to say a word...He just wants to be there for us.

So I challenge you to read this portion of the lyrics three different ways. Do you hear God speaking to you through it, just like He did to me?  I pray that I will remember this and turn to Him first.

When the weight of the world bears down so strong
You leave footprints on the street
And there's too many miles to face
Without a few more hours sleep

The storm clouds overhead won't shed
Any rain to quench your thirst
I wanna be the one you reach for first

When your faith is stretched so thin
That you can see straight through your soul
And you can't find a nickel to buy a smile
'Cause your pockets all got holes

You wanna shut the door and hide
Before the day can get much worse
I wanna be the one you reach for first

Fall into me
My arms are open wide and you don't have to say a word
'Cause I already see
That it's hard and you're scared and you're tired and it hurts
And I wanna be the one you reach for first

In a funk

I'm in a funk tonight. Nothing big has happened. Nothing new. I am just feeling down. There are a few things going on that I want to change but just can't at this moment. For instance, I really want to move. Living with my parents has been a life saver in more ways than one, but it is really hard to be both mom and daughter at once. Can anyone else relate?

On top of the normal things, G is having what I can only call 'flashbacks'. Seemingly out of the blue, he will start talking about the things that he has seen his dad do. Really bad things. While they are not new news to me, it still breaks my heart that he has been witness to them. He is six and is bearing the weight that not even adults should have to. He can't be secure in his own skin because he is constantly remembering.

So what can I do? Nothing really. Well, I pray. But lately it feels like my prayers are hitting the ceiling. So I vent to friends, have a good cry and move forward with tomorrow. My heart hurts tonight but I trust in the One who is always with me.

Lessons from the monitor

For the last few nights, I've been listening though the baby monitor as my sweet boy lays in his bed. He has just turned 6 and has always slept in my bed. At first it was convenience, then necessity and now just comfort. I admit it's a comfort to both of us. I am reminded that he is little only once and I do love those night time snuggles when it's just he and I reading a book or talking about our day. I even love the fact that he sleeps on his stomach just like I do and steals the covers in the middle of the night. But upon turning 6, we agreed it was time to get out of our comfort zone. So we have made the "5 minute rule."

I go with him into his room, turn on the night-light and tuck him in. We give our hugs and kisses and then I head off to my room. I listen in through the monitor as he settles himself in. Sometimes he talks, sometimes he sings and sometimes he cries out to come back to my bed. Occasionally he falls asleep in there. Most nights, he lays there and waits for his 5 minutes to be over. He's surprised me by being able to stay in the bed for about 20 minutes before he wants to come back.

Tonight as I listened to him talking through the monitor I realized the parallel between out situation and that of mine with my Heavenly Father. There are times in my life when I talk, sing or cry, just waiting for my Father to hear me. Sometimes I wait for my time (or trial) to  be over. But regardless of my situation, I know my Father is listening to me. He hears everything that I'm going through. He knows when I'm trying to be brave or when I'm reaching out of my comfort zone. Sometimes he's even the one who pushes me in that direction. But He's always there for me to call out to.

Tonight as my boy came running back to my bed, I also ran to my God in prayer. I am thankful for these lessons and these reminders of His love.

One of those days

Today has not been one of my better days. My little guy woke up feeling bad and couldn't go to school. He's got a bit of a fever, some coughing, working his way into breathing treatments...regular kid illnesses. Just no fun for him or mom. So he stayed home with Nana and Pop while I went to work.

While at work today, one of our dearest families told us they are moving away soon. The child is such a sweetheart and loved by us all. It took her some time to warm up to us but since she has, it just feels empty at the thought of not seeing her each day. And her parents...they are some of our biggest cheerleaders. They are a couple who has given us unending support from the beginning. It is really rare to find such folks like these.

Then I had a meeting today in which I find out some details about another child's home life. It's not pretty. I had some suspicions about his family and the more details I learned, the more the pieces of the puzzle clicked in my head...and that is not the click you want to hear.

Last night we had an Open House in which no one came. Not one person.  We advertised, we talked it up, we shared it with anyone who would listen. Not one bite.

So here I am today, with a heavy heart and feeling sorry for myself, wondering what I did wrong. How does this thing that is my absolute dream turn to feel like such a burden? How did I go from getting my dream career to wondering if we can make it through another year?

My friend and partner in the business said to me today simply, "It's the devil." I know that the enemy fights harder against you when you are doing something right...I know. I believe that God brought us here, even for days like today, for a reason. Another friend reminded me of that just last night. He has a purpose for us. Really, I believe it. Some days it's just harder to fight the fight than others.

Tonight I was greeted with a huge hug from my sweet boy, a great dinner from my mom, and then a big cry alone in my room. My burdens feel heavy, but tomorrow I will get up again, dust myself off and arm myself with much prayer. I will walk into school with a smile on my face, a hug for the hurting child and hope in my heart. I know God will sustain all of us, intertwined in this journey. I'm going to try my best to leave these hard days at the foot of the cross.

Number 6

I cannot believe that my baby boy is now six years old. It still boggles my mind to think that the time has flown by so quickly. Everyone tells you this happens, but I didn't believe it until it happened to me. Where has my baby gone?

He's still here...in his smile and infectious giggle.
He's still here....in his never ending curiosity.
He's still here....in his love of a good snuggle.

He is growing up, that's for sure. This year he has learned to ride a bike on two wheels. He has learned to read very well. He has learned to use his words more often than his hands.

He's also taught me so much, without even knowing it. He has taught me to love deeper, hold tighter and value relationships more. He reminds me to take time out just to play. He's shown me that not everything is a big deal.

He amazes me daily with the way his mind works. He remembers things that are barely a blip on my radar. He processes things in a way that I never would. He "rocks" hard. He sings loud. He is wild and woolly and wonderful. He is the light of my life and I am grateful every single day that he is my son!

The Challenge aka My Jesus Story

Today's sermon was about challenging us to share our "Jesus Story "with someone, to reach out and find the common ground we share and build on that. Reaching someone else with what you have been through is one way to connect. I know that Pastor probably had in mind doing this in person but I was impressed upon to start here. Here it goes.....

" I was born in a small town..." Nah, just teasing you! I won't go back that far! I will tell you though, that I was raised as a Baptist with parents who didn't take us to church much. I don't remember praying much as a kid except when we were at my Grandparent's house. These two loving saints went to church each week, gave both time and money, loved God with all their heart, and prayed before every meal. I'm telling you this not to put down my parents, but just to tell you that my story begins with knowing about Jesus, but not really knowing Jesus.

I went to church on an off with my friends, with my grandparents, and when I started dating, I went to whatever church (if any) my boyfriend went to. I dated one guy for a couple of years when I was in high school who went to a Baptist church where I absolutely fell in love with the people there. They became my extended family. He was great too, but what I remember most about that time was a genuine acceptance and love from that small congregation. I also remember thinking that if I could learn all the words to "Amazing Grace" then I would have it made. All the old churches sang that song and I wanted to know it by heart and not have to use the hymnal. That's what would make me spiritual!

Well the boyfriend came and went, but I did meet my first husband there. Yes, I said first. We got married by the pastor of that little country church surrounded by our family and friends. We kept going to that church as a couple. But the truth was, while I had been "saved" as a young teen, I had no idea that I was supposed to keep growing in the Lord. I tried to copy the behavior that I'd seen in the older women...I wanted to be a good wife and mother. But how to do that in a Godly way, well I had no idea. We'd wanted a baby, but I couldn't get pregnant. We'd wanted a bigger house, but we couldn't afford it. We wanted it all, but we just didn't want to wait and work for it.  I was far too young to have gotten married ( I know that now) and it was evident that this marriage was not what it was supposed to be. I didn't know how to fix it or who to really turn to. When I did try to talk to some of my church family, I don't think they really knew what to do either. Looking back, I don't blame them at all. They just weren't equipped. But at the time, I was so hurt. It was then that I just turned in the opposite way.

When I say opposite way, I mean COMPLETELY opposite. There isn't enough time in the world to tell you all the things I've done. Drinking, smoking, staying out all night, partying.....been there, done that. One night I met a guy who I would spend the next six years of my life with. I loved him with my whole heart. His lifestyle was one of parties and fun and it became my life too.  I can't blame him for it either; I jumped in with both feet and was on the ride of the lifetime. I wanted to do whatever it took to make him happy, but it turns out that making him happy took me down a dark road. He always wanted to try new things, push the envelope, go just a bit farther than the last time. At first that was fun, it was a thrill. I got to be naughty and I loved it. It was so exciting...and to see him enamored with me because I was willing, it was such a high.

But you can only go so far before that voice who has been whispering in your ear all this time begins yelling. That voice in your ear has been trying to keep you out of harm's way. That voice was warning you that things were going too far, too fast. It ended up with me nursing a broken heart. He had cheated on me and my world was rocked. My friends were his friends. I was left not knowing what to do in the regular world. Who do you party with when the party is over?

So I tried to reenact the party scene with others. I tried fitting in my old lifestyle into a new situation. Not so great... I felt out of place all the time. That voice that had been whispering in my ear, urging me to head back to church, was getting louder. I gave in and visited a Methodist church near my home. The folks there were kind. I didn't attend long, but long enough to get my feet planted back on a firmer foundation. I had a foothold and was starting to pull my way upward.

Around this same time, I was introduced to a man that would become my second husband. We were introduced at a time where I was lonely. I missed the company of a having a man in my life. I missed the excitement of dating someone new. I missed being romanced. He came into my life and stepped right in to the void I was feeling. He held my hand, he brought me flowers, he did the "manly" jobs that needed doing in a single-woman's house. He stole my heart.

The funny thing about our relationship is that it was rocky from the beginning. We would go out to a club on Friday night and drink ourselves silly, then be in church on Sunday morning. We were on this tightrope...balancing but never completely settled in one world or another. We visited many churches, trying to find the one that spoke to both of us. We found the one. A large church in his home town, a town in which I also worked and had friends. This church was incredible. I saw things I'd never seen before. This was a Church of God. I'd never witnessed people speaking in tongues or being so caught up in the Spirit that they were layed out at the altar. It was amazing to watch, but I was skeptical of it. But gradually as I got to know the people there, I realized that this was for real.  These people believed in Jesus. They knew He could heal. They knew He could comfort. They knew He could change lives. They knew it because it happened to them. And it happened to me. I found exactly what I'd been searching for all this time. I found the real thing.

The hard part for me was life at home. For me, it had been like flipping a switch. There was no more drinking, no more desire to party, no more of that other life. I wanted to go to Bible study, I wanted to serve others, I wanted to be in that church and around those people and I wanted MORE of Jesus. My husband struggled with it. He went with me but his heart wasn't there yet. So on top of a very stormy marriage, things just got worse. He drank, he got mean, he scared me. Things were bad. Things got so bad that it came to the point where he promised to go to AA meetings in order to get me to stay. I stayed, but I felt like I was holding my breath the whole time, just waiting for the bad things to catch up with us. Little did I know that it wasn't really the drinking at the heart of the problem.

We had a lot of bad, A LOT of bad, but we also had some good. I had faced a form of cancer in my early 20's and had been told I might not be able to carry a baby. But I turned to those prayer warriors in my sweet church. These women could pray in (or out) just about anything. It was like they had God on speed dial! I was ecstatic when I found out I was pregnant! I know God makes the final decision, but I still believe that it was those women praying on my behalf that gave me my beautiful son.

I had a hard pregnancy. I was at the doctor just about every week with spotting or cramping of some sort. My legs swelled up so badly that my ankles were the size of my thighs by the end of the day, and that was just in my second trimester. At 27 weeks, my water broke. I was terrified that I was losing my baby. This precious gift was slipping away from me and there was nothing I could do but pray. I was admitted into the hospital and was given a myriad of medications to stop contractions and to help my baby's lungs mature quickly. When you are supposed to carry a baby to term at 40 weeks, 27 weeks is a long way away.  I was put on bed rest and told to wait. I couldn't go home because I was continually leaking amniotic fluid. I was monitored for any sign of fever, for fear that infection would set in. There was nothing to do but lay there and wait....and pray some more.

At 29 weeks, my contractions began again and couldn't be stopped. I delivered a very tiny bundle of joy weighing only 2 1/2 pounds. He immediately went to the NICU where he spent the next 3 weeks of his life. He had to learn to breathe on his own, how to regulate his own body temperature, how to just survive. I didn't even get to hold him until he was a week old.  But he began making progress. He got stronger, grew a little and even smiled at us. Then one day we were at the hospital when all hell broke loose. One minute we were changing his diaper and the next he was fighting for his life.

Turns out, that diaper was full of blood. The nurses and doctors immediately began running tests on him. In the matter of a few hours, he began going downhill. He went from breathing on his own to being on full life support. The NICU there was not equipped to deal with his infection so the decision was made to move him to Tennessee by helicopter. To remind you a bit of where I had come from, it was not common for folks to pray out loud. My small town Baptist roots had made me shy when it came to that. I was just learning to put my hands on someone as I prayed for them. But let me tell you, something got a hold on me that day. I became a different woman as I looked at my son. I remember calling our family and telling them that the doctors had told us to say goodbye to him because he might not make the trip to the new hospital. Our family was allowed in to surround his incubator...something that was against the NICU rules. I remember praying for him and putting my hands through the holes in the incubator as I did so. I laid a hand on that sweet boy's leg and starting to pray....I honestly don't remember much of the details after that. I know that I got louder and more bold in my prayers. I know that I rebuked the devil and claimed that baby for Jesus Christ. I know I prayed the blood of Jesus over him.  And I know that the room started to clear out. I know that when I finally looked up, I had no more tears to cry. Almost everyone was gone and the nurses were red-eyed themselves. They had backed away from me and that incubator and were just watching. I remember that it was time for him to be loaded onto the stretcher for the flight to Tennessee, one that I couldn't join. I know that the nurses cried for him and hugged me tight. But I know I had profound peace.

Our baby made it through the night and the ones following. The next 5 weeks were spent in the Ronald McDonald house across the street from TC Thompson Children's Hospital. My sweet boy began making progress almost immediately. He was off the ventilator in a matter of days. Though he had some hard times there, it was nothing compared to the night he was transported. God Almighty had saved his life.

Coming home was surreal. We had a preemie who required a heart/breathing monitor at all times. He had crazy amounts of medicine that had to be given to him at exact times. He was considered medically fragile and the fear of germs settled over our house. We came home to an incredibly blessed, yet stressful life. I am the first to admit that we were low on sleep and patience, but things in our marital relationship went from bad to worse. I'd long ago realized that my husband was not only and alcoholic but had other issues. I personally believe that he had some sort of chemical imbalance but he wouldn't seek help. He wouldn't go to counseling or treatment. I couldn't judge his moods. What made him happy one day made him angry the next. I began to fear for my life....and even worse, the life of my baby I had fought so hard for.

I made the painful decision to separate from my husband when my son was only four months old. If life in the same house had been bad, living apart and not having any way to judge his moods was even worse. I lived in a constant state of fear. I would juggle my days between work, home and my parent's house. They provided a much sought after haven of rest for me and my tiny bundle. We eventually moved in full time with them.

As grateful as I am for their love and protection, the fact was that my parents were getting older. The stress of this situation was evident on their faces. The couldn't handle this in the way they might have been able to in year's past. I felt I was putting everyone under so much pressure. My parents reminded me that they were behind me and that we were sticking together, no matter what. I can't even being to express the gratitude I feel for sacrificing their own plans to make life bearable for me. On top of it all, my mother took care of my son while I went back to work. They have a special place in Heaven for all they have scarified here on earth for us.

In the past five years, there has been many times of fear and heartache. My ex husband is a very unstable man and has inflicted much pain, physical and mental, upon my family. My son has endured visits with him in which he has experienced things that no child should ever have to. (I'll tell you that part some other time...after all, it is more his story than mine. )The last five years have been the hardest years of my entire life but I can honestly say that God has been with me through it all.  I've doubted Him, I've been angry with Him, I've even told Him that I hate Him. But He has been there with me. He has walked with me...sometimes leading me, sometimes following, sometimes pushing me while I was kicking and screaming.....but He has been there for me every step of the way.

When you talk to me on a day to day basis, you probably don't know any of this about me. I'm known to laugh too loud, talk too much and be sarcastic lots of the time. I'm probably making bad jokes, sassing someone in fun or trying my best to find my way around technology. But my Jesus story is there with me all the time. Bubbling just underneath the surface is what I'm longing to tell you. My God has moved mountains and created miracles. I've watched Him breathe life back into a dying baby. I've seen Him take a life that was headed to the pit of hell and bring it back to serve as a testimony for His love.  I've lived the resurrection only Jesus can bring...physically and spiritually. If He can do it for me, He can do it for you. He can do it for anyone.  Just ask me and I'll tell you all about this Jesus that I have come to love so dearly.

God's grace

There are so many events to catch you up on. This past week has been a whirlwind to say the least. So to put it in a bit of chronological order for you..............

I got sick. Gross, throw up, fever, can't swallow, feeling dizzy kind of sick. At the time, it felt like the worst possible week to get sick. There was a huge event on Thursday that I could not miss. On top of my regular duties as teacher and mom, if there ever was a week not to be down with illness, this was it. But looking back on it, I think God chose this week for sickness on purpose. No time to be nervous or worry when you are sick. There is just no energy left for it. I can honestly say, "Thank you God for allowing this sickness to come when it did." 

Being sick also brought out the nurturing side of G. He brought me a drink when I needed it, checked on me often and even put his hand to my forehead to see if I had a fever. "Oh, honey.......", he said when I felt hot. This is one sweet kid!

So I obviously made it through the funk and went on to my Thursday. I won't give you all of the details, but the truth is that God has walked with us through Hell for about five years and he is showing us the other side. I know there is more, the enemy is not done with us yet, but for the first time in a long time I can see the light. I've had my doubts, that's no secret, but I can look back on it and see God's hand all along. Wouldn't it be nice if we had foresight also!

The temperament has really changed around our house this week also. I know that kids feel tension too and with Mom being sick, it throws even the best laid plans out of whack. But in our house, things have a totally different vibe. Cleaning usually brings out the whines and moans of procrastination. Not today. Today, my G. worked right along side of me. He wanted to organize, straighten and clean with me. He was a great help. I don't know if I can even adequately put it into words. It wasn't the chores that were done, it was the way they were done. With joy and love.

God's grace and mercy has been shown to me in so many ways in just a few days' time. Words are not enough, but they are all I have. Thank you God.

Words of Blessing

It seems as though most of my posts come from something I've learned in church or something I'm angry at. Tonight is no exception. God once again used both the sermon and the worship time to speak to me.

Our sermon series has been on blessing...how we get it, why we have it, how we handle it....all the aspects of blessing. Today specifically was on words and how they relate to blessing. There were so many points that I'm still thinking through but one is resounding loud in clear in my heart and mind. It was what to do when evil or wrongdoing confronts us. What comes out of our mouths in response? When someone hurls insults at us do we sling them back? When someone tells a lie toward us do we get angry? When someone gossips about our family do we dig up the dirt on them?

I am so guilty of letting my emotions fly right out of my mouth instead of biting my tongue. It's evident in my posts too. But our pastor made a really good point....if we lash out and give back the hatred and evil that was sent our way, we allow that hatred to penetrate into us. We give it energy. We continue the cycle of bitterness.

That cycle continues until we choose to put a stop to it. If we can speak blessing, as we are called to do, then it turns the cycle around. We aren't allowing that evil to soak into our spirit. We are basically deflecting it.

It's definitely easier said than done. So today I pray for God's guidance. I pray for wisdom to know what to say (or what not to say) during those times. I want my heart to be filled with joy and peace, not hatred or bitterness. I do believe that God can heal me and help me to control my tongue. Help me Lord to bless those that persecute me. Not because I want to, but because You told me to.