Blood shot eyes and things that go bump in the night.

Blood-Shot Eyes and Things That Go Bump in the Night.

   Somewhere between sleep and awake was when I first heard it, you know, that place where everything is in slow-motion and you’re not sure what is real and what is a dream. It was dark and I prodded my sleepy brain awake to see if I would hear it again. My skin prickled and I shivered as the sound of footsteps pass where I lay. I quickly threw the covers over my head and arranged a small peek hole so I could see what was going on.

   When I looked out of the small opening I was horrified! There staring right back at me was an enormous, bloodshot eye. I clamped my eyes shut and remained still as a rock in hopes the creature would not see me there. I heard the soft shooshing sound of the back sliding door open and close, and then all was quiet.

    As I lay there my imagination ran wild. What was that? What evil could possibly be stalking our house in the middle of the night? Next time I will keep my eyes closed so they can’t read my mind, or worse, take over my body! I barely survived!

   I’m sure we all have stories like this from childhood. When we enter adulthood, those imaginary eyes and frightening sounds come in different forms. Thoughts and uncertainties persistently plague our minds and make our lives miserable.

   Worry enters our mind as freely as wind, mixing with bad memories and hidden phobias.  Fear of sickness and diseases, thoughts of panic for our children or spouses safety, worries that we won’t have enough money consume our thoughts and make our stomachs churn with acid.

“A thought may seem harmless, but if it becomes toxic, it can become physically, emotionally or spiritually dangerous.  Every time you have a thought, it is actively changing your brain and your body- for better or for worse.” Dr. Caroline Leaf Ph.D.

“Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for the good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Summing it all up, my friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious- the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.”  Philippians 4:7, 8 (MSG)

   Changing my thought patterns from toxic and rerouting them to the truth of the word can be tricky and take dedication.

   It’s easy to stay in my familiar rut and become a casualty of my emotions. Commanding my brain to do the unusual takes effort, climbing out of that negative pit requires calculated foot work; peace, wholeness and health are my motivators.

   After complaining to my mother multiple times she finally stayed up to see what was going on. It seems one of my brothers was sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night to take a joy ride in my oldest brother’s new truck. She sat hidden in a corner and watched him leave; he didn’t even pause to look through my peek hole with his giant blood shot eye.

   When the truth was brought to light by my mom, my fears melted; the realization that those silly sounds couldn’t hurt me had me sleeping peacefully. Of course it was a while before my brother had peace.  

   Using God’s word as my guide I can practice throwing those concerns on the one who truly makes everything work for my good. After a while I can see those fears for what they really are; exaggerated imaginations and scare tactics, keeping me frozen in fear and defeat.

Stupid decisions and sticky situations.

He Found Me in the Desert.

   Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!  Panic turned my mouth dry and my heart collided with my stomach. Familiar buildings zoomed by and soon I was lost in an unfamiliar area of town. I just knew I was dead or at least I was going to be a victim of rape. I had no plan of escape and terror paralyzed me.

  

  What do I do? What can I say? No one had prepared me for this, there were no talks of stranger danger or how to protect myself, and I was an ignorant victim.

   

  The smell of old cologne and cigarettes are still vivid memories, I can still see his slicked back red hair and his brown corduroy jacket. I can recall his little brown MG car and where he was standing when I first saw him that day, even after forty years.

    

  It’s funny how fear will emblazon a memory in your mind. I was almost thirteen and had just gotten off the greyhound bus headed to my best friends for a weekend of skating and meeting up with our boyfriends.  

  

  As I left the bus station I looked around for the local transit bus to finish my journey. Never being one that knows a stranger, I approached a nicely dressed man on the street and asked him for the time. He asked where I was going and I happily obliged him with all my fun weekend plans. Oh, I’m sure by now you are wondering what kind of idiot I was, but wait, it even gets better.

   

  

  After telling me I had just missed my bus he gallantly volunteered to take me to my destination. Yes, I did it, I got into his car and we were off. I have to admit I felt a few pangs of alarm but I dismissed them because, after all, he presented himself as an upstanding citizen, concerned for my safety.

  Once we were in route he asked me multiple inappropriate questions. At first I was perplexed and thought maybe this was a joke but when he ignored my directions and we were traveling the opposite way, I knew I was in real trouble.

   He made a stop at a fast food restaurant and asked if I was hungry, of course I told him no but he went in anyway and brought out an extra order for me. In case you are wondering, yes I sat in the car and missed my escape.

  Reaching in the back seat, he produced two bottles of beer and offered me one. I refused and told him my friend would worry if I didn’t get there soon. That’s when his devilish plan was finally realized. As he leaned towards me I gave out a little scream and opened the car door.

   By now you are probably thinking that I took off running and got help, right? Sadly no, at his promise to take me to my friends, I got back in the car. This is where I kick myself; it’s hard for me to believe it, even now.

  He did eventually drop me off unharmed and I walked into my friend’s house as he sped off down the road. Bawling, I told everything to my friend’s mom and she scolded me on the dangers of hitch hiking.

   Before you judge me and think I was one of the most brainless girls on the planet, (I often think that myself), in my defense I was twelve and was never taught stranger safety before this. My brothers often hitch hiked and my mom frequently picked strangers up. We even hosted people in our home, most of them we really didn’t know very well.

   This is not the end of the story. Later that evening, while skating with my friends, I happened to notice the same man sitting at a table in a dark corner, watching my every move. He quickly raced out the door when he saw me point him out to the rink owner. The memory still makes me shudder.

   When I think of all my near misses and narrow escapes, I am humbled. Time and time again God has lovingly rescued me. Stupid decisions and just plain rebellious living has put me in some sticky situations to say the least. How often have I swiped my brow with the back of my hand only then to realize God’s all encompassing hand on my life?

   Jeremiah 31:2-3 says this, “This is the way God put it: They found grace out in the desert, these people who survived the killing. Israel, out looking for a place to rest, met God out looking for them!” God told them, “I’ve never quit loving you and never will. Expect love, love and more love!” (MSG)

  Oh how I love this verse!  Many times when I make mistakes and suffer consequences, I think I just got what I deserve. Thank you Father that there is grace in the desert. Thank you that I am valuable to you and you are out looking for me, even when I am distracted.

  We all have memories that point their fingers at us from the dark corners and say, “This is your fault, you brought it on yourself now you have to pay. You are not fit to be loved or forgiven.”

  If you are out looking for that place to rest, just know that your heavenly Father has never given up the search for you and will never stop loving you. Point your finger right back at those accusing thoughts and don’t allow them to keep you wandering in the wasteland.

   Expect love, love and more love. He’s our Father, He loves us, that’s what He does.

Mind-mind your manners

Mind-Mind Your Manners!

   I squinted at the sun as I looked through the car window. Looking up to the towers I wondered what exactly the guards could see from their perch. To me they looked like menacing statues dressed in brown and wearing sunglasses. It was like a scene from a movie and my stomach churned inside me. After signing in and a short interrogation we joined the other families waiting in line. This large room was painted white and had marble floors, it always felt cold. There were a few benches against the walls and right in the middle of the room sat an enormous half circle desk that seated three or four officers.

   I hated this place; I hated the drive down the long driveway even though it was lined with maple trees. I despised the towers and all the scary, ominous feelings that came with them. The razor wire that curled at the top of the tall chain link fences made me feel small and defenseless. It was as if at any moment I could be a victim of something horrible. It didn’t help that I also detested the person that we were there to see.

As we waited I would watch small children running and playing, their laughter echoed across the room. How could they be so happy? They had no idea where they were and I realized that this was just a way of life for them. They were visiting daddy or their mom’s new boyfriend; to them, this trip meant fun in the playroom and a few prizes from the vending machine.

After a short wait the great iron barred doors would loudly clang open which startled me every time. We would all file in as a group, once we were all in one section a loud buzzer sounded and the doors would bang shut, and panic would race through my gut, I felt trapped. When the iron doors in front of us would whir open, we would clustered into the next chamber and wait for the doors to shut behind us, swallowing us inside. It was cool and the cinder block walls were a faded yellow. Guards stood sentinel while inmates where mopping floors or doing other odd jobs.

 Once I entered the visiting room the smoke from at least fifty cigarettes choked me and burned my eyes. Men in blue jeans and baby blue shirts sat on hard plastic chairs waiting to see their families. The room had the feel of fear, hopelessness and anger. All I wanted to do was run but there was nowhere to go. Everywhere I sat men watched me, I could see them talking with their family members but I knew they watched me and I felt like a mouse in a room full of hungry cats.

   I was a young teenager and we would visit my mom’s newly imprisoned husband weekly. I felt he was the cause of all our troubles. When he entered our lives it seemed our family shattered into a million pieces and this started a period of abuse for me over the next three years. It was probably the most frightening and unsettling time of my life. If I think on it too long I can still sense the feelings of misery and hopelessness.

Psalm 138:7 & 8 says, “When I walk into the thick of trouble, keep me alive in the angry turmoil. With one hand strike my foes, with your other hand save me. Finish what you started in me, God. Your love is eternal- don’t quit on me now.” (MSG)

We have all had our share of wretchedness in this life. It only takes me a moment to find someone who has had it a lot worse than me. Sometimes it’s actual and sometimes it’s a matter of perception, but whatever the circumstances the memories can be oppressive and incapacitating.

When I was fifteen I found a scripture that helped me profoundly. I soon had it memorized and began putting it to practice.

Philippians 4:6-9 says, “Don’t fret or worry. Instead of worrying, pray. Let petitions and praises shape your worries into prayers, letting God know your concerns. Before you know it, a sense of God’s wholeness, everything coming together for good, will come and settle you down. It’s wonderful what happens when Christ displaces worry at the center of your life. Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious- the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice things you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.” (MSG)

   I have a million horrible memories and there were scores of times where, as a child, my very life was in danger because of someone else’s behavior. The hardest yet most rewarding challenge I have ever met was to change my thought life and get past the devastating consequences those memories had on me, both physically and mentally.

This is hard work; I have to make the effort to change my thought life every day, I have to remind myself of the life changing scriptures I have memorized and I choose to believe them. I will always have those memories and life will villainously add to them, but I am determined that they will have no power over me, they will not define me.

Galatians 5:1 says, “Christ has set us free to live a free life. So take your stand! Never again let anyone put a harness of slavery on you.” (MSG)

  We can’t choose our beginnings; no child wants to be poor, neglected or abused. Sin and its influences are all around us raining down defeat and misery; it convinces us that there is no hope in life, only a pitiful existence and eventually death. But that is a lie; there is great hope and freedom tastes sweet; they come in the person of Jesus and all he has unselfishly done for me and you, no matter where our journey has taken us.

Thanks for the help Laughing Boy!

The Crash and Burn

   “I’ve got this, it’s a cinch. I don’t need a safety tether or a “dummy leash” as they call it in the gym.” With confidence I climbed aboard the treadmill and with the touch of a button I set the belt in motion. 

   As I walked, I tried to keep pace with my long legged brother who was on the treadmill next to mine.  We chatted about life and it felt good to get the heart pumping.  All it took was one little trip and that treadmill spit me off and left me in a crumpled heap on the floor. Of course the belt kept going since I had refused to use the tether and my leg got caught under the machine.

   I was so embarrassed! I was sure everyone had seen the large woman in the baggy black sweats get ejected, slick as a watermelon seed in a country fair, spitting contest.  As I pulled my wounded leg from underneath the belt I looked around and was surprised that not one person missed a beat in their routine. It was as if I were invisible. The only one who paid any attention was my brother who was laughing so hard he nearly followed my disastrous example. Humiliated and bruised I climbed back on the walking pad and connected the safety leash to my sweat shirt.

   Fear of failure keeps us from progress in our lives but there is a forever hope of victory.

Philippians 1:6 says, “I am sure about this: the one who started a good work in you will stay with you to complete the job by the day of Christ Jesus.” (CEB)

 I make bad decisions more often than I care to admit. I get in a hurry or feel like I know what is best, that is when I end up a twisted mess and feel like a failure. Getting back up on my feet and continuing the journey only makes me stronger.

Romans 8: 29- 34 says, “God knew what he was doing from the very beginning. He decided from the outset to shape the lives of those who love him along the same lines as the life of his Son. The Son stands first in the line of humanity he restored. We see the original and intended shape of our lives there in him. After God made that decision of what his children should be like, he followed it up by calling people by name. After calling them by name, he set them on a solid basis with himself. And then, after getting them established, he stayed with them to the end, gloriously completing what he had begun. So what do you think? With God on our side like this, how can we lose? If God didn’t hesitate to put everything on the line for us, embracing our condition and exposing himself to the worst by sending his own Son, is there anything else he wouldn’t gladly and freely do for us? And who would dare tangle with God by messing with one of God’s chosen? Who would dare even point a finger? The one who died for us- who was raised to life for us, is in the presence of God at this very moment sticking up for us.” (MSG)

    Yes, I just failed in front of everyone. I’m sure I looked absolutely ridiculous, but I would bet my black sweat pants that every one of them has spent a little time on the floor and knows the pain of walking on the treadmill of life. Often times, even my everyday existence is painful but, unlike the gym members or laughing boy on the treadmill next to me, God has set me on a “solid basis with himself” and is there to help me up.

    Did you know that He is your help and is cheering you on to accomplishment? He is not surprised by our failures but stays with us, helping us to stand up and continue walking toward happy success. Don’t worry about what people are thinking, pick yourself up and get back on that treadmill. God is on your side, how could you possibly lose?

Have a Babylonian New Year?

New Year’s Resolution or My Plan to Fail

   This is my least favorite time of year. The weather is cold and dreary, the trees are all bare and gloomy, Christmas is over and the nearest holiday is Easter. Now I feel the need to make decisions about the New Year. I am overcome with frustration.  The feelings of dread and failure have already set in and I haven’t even decided what my new resolutions will be.

   Here’s a little resolution history; the New Year’s resolution dates back to pre-Christian times. It was actually begun by the Babylonians and took place in March. This was a time that everyone resolved to return borrowed objects and pay their bills, hmm, sounds easy enough to me. Then along came the Romans who moved it to January in honor of their god Janus. Janus looked forward to the new and backward to the old. The Puritans came along and took it to another level. They decided this was a time to contemplate the future and not look back. To commit to put their talents to better use, treat their neighbors with charity and avoid habitual sins. Still not too bad, that feels achievable.

   Somewhere in time things went a little screwy and the whole “use your talents, pay your bills, treat your neighbors with charity and avoid habitual sins,” thing entered  a self improvement competition.  Statistics show that thirty five percent of people make unrealistic goals, thirty three percent don’t keep track of them and twenty three forget the goals even exist; I fall in with the twenty three percent. My “no sugar, lose weight” decision is completely forgotten when I see the left over chocolate cake on New Year’s Day. Only eight percent of people successfully keep those goals year round. That means ninety two percent of people fail; sadly I am counted among the feeble masses. One article I read suggested that I “aim low” that way I would actually reach my goal and feel the thrill of accomplishment, does getting out of bed and eating three meals a day count?

   Listed in the history of my own failed attempts are these; be more kind to others, eat less sugar, cut out caffeine, (no caffeine and no sugar cancels out any chance of being more kind to others so beware), lose weight, write every day, be more organized, read the Bible all the way through (sometimes I feel accomplished if I read it once a week) and learn a new language (slang or fun accents do not count). This is my sorry little “ninety two percent” list.

   This year I decided to run things a little differently.

Galatians 6:9 says, “Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

Job 22:28 says’ “what you decide on will be done, and light will shine on your ways.”

Philippians 4:13 says, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.”

   I re-evaluate my list and place it before my only hope of being part of the eight percent, Jesus.

 You see, it's not a list but a life that is really at stake here. Every day I face failures and unmet goals. These so called blunders gnaw at my self worth and call me names like lazy, stupid or undisciplined. I end up comparing myself with those I believe to be successful champions and I give up altogether.

   I am so thankful for scriptures like Proverbs 16:9 (In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps.) and Isaiah 28: 26 (His God instructs him and teaches him the right way.) 

   I rest confidently knowing it’s not all on my shoulders. His path is  best for me and when I choose it he provides the strength that I need to gradually build success in that area. There is a path of triumph and when I draw my strength and wisdom from him, I am victorious.

   What are your resolutions for the year? Are you willing to place them before the Lord and walk in his direction? His ways aren’t always the path we would naturally choose, but in them there are always strength, progress and fulfillment.