I just finished a book on trans racial adoption. One of the chapters was on white privilege. I feel ashamed and angry. I walked around my neighborhood and prayed that God would sanctify my emotions. That He would continue to open my eyes. That He would somehow use me as a voice FOR non-white ethnic groups. I am not going to even pretend that I understand what it is like to be on the other side of white privilege. If I am angry with my limited knowledge, what must it be like to deal with the anger that comes with living the other side of white privilege on a daily basis? I want to be a voice. I want to have the courage that white people did that stood along civil rights activists in the 50′s and 60′s.  I know that if I am going to do this, there is the very real probability that in the process of being a voice FOR non-whites, I might offend them. I am still so ignorant. But the fear of offending has kept me silent for too long. I am determined to keep educating myself. I am doing it for my child that will come to us from Ethiopia. I am doing it for our two biological kids. I am doing it for myself, because I am missing something HUGE when I look the other way. I am doing this because NOT to do something is wrong. I know that on this journey I will probably have an African American, or an Asian American, or a Mexican American tell me that I have it all wrong – that I am offensive, that I am prideful – and they will most likely be right. And I will most likely hide in my covers and cry and want to give up. But I am making a decision NOW that I will not give up. That I will be willing to learn the hard and humiliating lessons that strip me of my arrogance and ignorance one painful layer at a time.

During the past several months all of my reading and thinking about what it is like to be a person of color has opened my eyes to many things. I have felt conviction and remorse for my stereotypical opinions. I have made commitments to change and better myself. A few months ago I was in the Houston area, and I went out shopping by myself. An aisle I wanted to go down was blocked by an African American woman. Normally I would go around to the other side or wait until she left for the sole reason that she is a black woman that I do not know. I would automatically assume that she would be angry that she had to move for me. I would assume that she would assume that I thought that I was better than her because I am white. That is a LOT of assuming. But all of a sudden it hit me that she could very well be aware that I had gone out of my way to avoid her, and that would be hurtful; so I smiled sweetly and asked if I could squeeze by. She moved, but she rolled her eyes and sighed at the same time. I was insulted. I had TRIED to do the right thing. And then I heard God whisper, “You deserved that.”

Not because I had done something wrong at that moment, but for the years I have fed the problem instead of starving it. And seriously how prideful and naive for me to think she should have thought to herself, “Oh what a nice white person for speaking to me.” Ughh…. Just throw me out with the dishwater – I have so far to go I wonder if I am a lost cause sometimes.

But I remind myself of what our special speaker David Garcia said at church this past Sunday, “I would rather go after a lot and get half of it, than to go after nothing and get all of it.” I have always been very uncomfortable with blatant prejudice attitudes, but I have more often than not stayed quiet. And for that I am deeply convicted. It is time to take a stand. It is time to open my mouth. It is time to go for a lot. A lot of change. A lot of accepting and loving. A lot of allowing God to lead us and use us to open the eyes of people, especially the church. Even if we just get half of a lot we will be closer to unity than we are now.

 Nothing in the world feels worse than being judged. I remind myself often enough that there will always be people that don’t “get me” or that disagree with me or might even just flat out not like me. I tell myself that I am okay with that. I try to prepare myself….  And then I find out that it is, in fact, a reality and for a little bit my heart is shattered. I wonder what to do with all these emotions that feel like waves of rejection that threaten to pull me under. Satan smearing it in my face: words spoken, wrong perceptions, mixed in with a lot of presumptions on my part; causing me to doubt my identity and distrust the people God has placed in my life. I told Blake the other day that I think the Devil has this plan for today’s generation of young adults: for the men it is an addiction to video games, for women its an addiction of insecurity that results in us turning against and judging each other.

The other night I had just got finished talking to Blake about how I am fed up with women judging each other! I told him that something HAS to be done so that we as women believe in each other again and support each other although we each live VERY different lives. We need to trust that the same God that has given us a unique word on how to live our lives is also speaking to our girlfriends. His purpose is specific and original for each of His children! Only He knows our future and the results that each of our decisions will have. Moments after venting about this very thing, I found myself asking Blake “why in the world would “so and so” do “such and such?!”

He smirked and said, “Why in the world would the Davis’ undertake a $30,000 adoption when there is no way they can afford it?” Thank you God for my husband who has such a merciful way of putting me in my place.

I am down here in the mess with everyone else. I am guilty. Even if I wasn’t, wouldn’t it be judging just to point out that others are judging?

A few days ago a facebook friend posted a status telling about how her son had said to her, “I am so glad that I don’t go to private school or homeschool because then who would tell my friends about Jesus?”

Now if my insecurity was in check I would have said, “What an amazing little boy! God must have an incredible calling on his life.” But instead I let it eat at me. “Do people think that my kids are less Christian because they homeschool?” “ARE my kids less Christian because they homeschool?” “Does she think she’s better than me because she’s made the choice to send her kids to public school?” Ughhh… This kind of stuff steals our joy and sucks out the vivaciousness that is in all of us. It also destroys the sisterhood that God wants to bless each of us with in a bigger than we can imagine way. I think its time that we take back the gift of sisterhood that the devil has stolen from us!

 I’m making a personal decision to use all this yuck for good. I’m going to ask God to use all MY yuck for good.  I’m declaring it! I want to be purged. I want to spiritually vomit the insecurity. I want to spiritually vomit the prideful need to justify and defend my choices and my calling. I want to spiritually vomit the feeling of competition and the desire for others to think of me as a good mom and wife and spiritual person. (If I end up with a stomach virus, then I guess I asked for it…..)

Lets be honest with ourselves about our insecurities, and lets be confident that #1 We have heard from God on the way we are living our life and He is the only One who’s opinion matters and #2 Our job is to love our sisters in Christ and not to judge them.

Who’s going to try to climb out of this mess with me?

The blog bug has not bit me in awhile, but tonight I wanted to just jot a few things down for my own sake.  It seems to take less effort to type than to find a journal with extra space and write.

We are in our third week of homeschool and this year is going oh so well. I have finally found curriculum for every subject that works well for my nine year old son. I am doing the same stuff with my seven year old daughter. Exactly. Because they both have August birthdays Hope could be in 1st or 2nd and Camden could be in 3rd or 4th. Most of their curriculum this year is for 3rd/4th grade. I could push Camden harder, but I did that for 4 years and most days by the time the school work was done, we both were in serious need of a time out from each other. This year my goal is to enjoy our teaching/learning relationship. We do almost every subject snuggled up together on the couch. We talk through things. We discuss, we try to find some humor, we relate our learning to something going on in real life. I feel 10x closer to both of them than I have in a long time. I am loving our days together. And I can tell that they recognize the growth we have experienced, as well. We are done with school by lunch every day. 3 hours tops. Part of me worries, part of me can hear the critics click their tongues and shake their heads, part of me thinks about all the states that would consider this illegal. But my heart tells me I’m making the major things the major things.

Two nights ago I woke up cold. In my half sleep I scooted close to snuggle with Blake only to find that Hope had come and wiggled herself in the middle of us sometime during the night. I was disappointed for a second, and then I thought, “Oh well she’s pretty sweet too.” And as I nuzzled my cold nose into her frizzy curls I was overwhelmed with gratitude and happiness for the blessing of my children. They are so very precious.

Camden turned nine years old on the 17th. Blake and I have thought a lot about how nine is the mid-point of our 18 years that we have to raise him. I know that its these next nine years that he will remember the most. For men, especially, they don’t seem to have a lot of memories from their early childhood. I wonder why that is? However, the memories we make from here on out with him….he will remember those for sure. I thought about how I wanted to make a few resolutions to him in my heart. I am not brave enough to tell him out loud…not yet anyway, but I want them documented. I want them to be real.

Dear Camden,
  I remember sitting in your nursery feeling you kick inside longing for the day that you would be in my arms. I had no idea what to expect, but I had years of imagination. I always wanted you baby boy.
You were a handful from day one. The Babywise books became a joke as we realized if we were going to get any sleep (along with all of our fellow Bible college students in the apartments surrounding us) you were going to have to sleep in our bed as close as you could wiggle to my side. I would slowly inch you over to your Daddy’s side in the middle of the night, but long before you could scoot or crawl I would find you back smashed against me in a few minutes time. We broke all the rules you and I. You nursed all hours of the night and day. We napped together. We rocked you until you were 18 months old. We went and got you every time you cried until you were 11 months old.
As a toddler you wore me OUT! I would tell you all the time, “Its a good thing you are cute!” And you would giggle. And I would melt. I would count down the minutes until your Daddy came home. And then I would lay on the couch in exhaustion and watch in awe as you two would play and play and play. You might have been my cuddle bug as a baby but you became Daddy’s boy in a blink of an eye.

Now you are nine. NINE!! We still have our occasional battles: your room, your school work…but you have become such a great kid. You have compassion. You are incredibly honest. Your prayers bring me to tears. When you laugh and bounce on the couch during the funny parts of movies I want to eat you up. You are an inspiring encourager to your soccer teammates along with having astonishing energy and a positive attitude that has made the boys, coaches, and parents all love you. I am in awe of the grace of God. He is filling in the gaps where we as your parents fall short. Because of this, I am reminded continuously that you are God’s and we are just vessels – we are not your everything. Thank goodness we are not your everything. I know these next nine years I am going to have to learn that lesson over and over. That you belong to God not to me….which brings me to my commitments.

1. I commit to acknowledge on a regular basis to you and to God that you belong to Him. That your purpose on this earth is to honor and to obey HIS calling on your life even if it is not what I would choose.

2. I commit to seek God’ face as I make decisions that effect your life and your future again remembering that my desires might not always line up with God’s plan for you.

3. I commit to encouraging you to listen for the voice of God.

4. I commit to work harder to listen to you; to let you know I value what goes on in your thoughts and in your heart.

5. I commit to teaching you  to love the poor, the outcast, and the orphan. I believe its a calling that God has placed on all of His people, but I believe it is especially true for our family.

6. I commit to loving your Daddy.

7. I commit to praying for your future wife.

8. I commit to recognizing and pointing out the positive that I see in you over the negative.

9. I commit to laughing more and frowning less because I want you to carry with you memories of a happy Mama.

I love you Camden Bailey.

Hope turned seven today. At 3:55 pm to be exact. Today I thought a lot about the day she was born – even more than I usually do on my kids’ birthdays. At the last minute – as in I was already in active labor – I decided to have her at home. I love that I was with her every minute those first few hours. She was so pink and round. Almost bald with a sweet little dimple in her cheek. She still seems pink and girlie and sweet to me. She can be as sassy as they come with a generous side of drama, and I know I probably let her get away with more of that than I should.

 I love having conversations with her. I look forward to seeing how our conversations grow and develop the older she gets. I love that I can not figure her out….this mixture of sweet and sassy that is Hope. A good friend of ours described her as “she is who she is and she’s not going to put on an act for anybody.” This is good and bad. Confirming to her that she doesn’t have to live a life of performing for people, but at the same time helping her to realize that it honors God when she responds to others with a kind smile and a kind word. …even when she would rather look at her feet and pretend like she is temporarily without hearing. She LOVES dogs and puppies. She wants to be a babysitter of puppies and work as a “dog washer” when she gets big. She is smart. She picks school stuff up quickly. She will be doing the exact same school work as her older brother this year. She adores turning on the ipod and singing and dancing. She loves to wear dresses, and would wear them every day if I let her. She loves children’s church and going to youth with us on Sunday night. She enjoys playing with the neighborhood kids and despises when Camden gets to go to a friend’s house and she doesn’t. Its all about being fair you know… 

I look forward to what this year holds for her. As I was praying for her today, I sensed that the Lord was showing me that this would be a big year for Hope’s heart. That God was going to begin to really move in her and fill her with His compassion and His perspective in ways that will begin to open her eyes to the things which God has had planned for her since the beginning of her precious little life. Is seven years old too young for that? I don’t think so – not for a minute. I believe that Hope is chosen by God for a purpose. That He has deposited into her a part of Himself that she can share with the world and that she can begin to walk in that long before she becomes an adult. God uses children. He is moved by their faith.

 I read through the verses with the word “chosen” in them tonight – and it was exciting to be reminded that God chooses us to accomplish His purposes. It is exciting to have one of His valuable and chosen daughters to be my earthly daughter. I am overwhelmed tonight with a desire to constantly remember that my role as her Mama is about so much more than feeding and clothing her, it is about more than getting through each day, it is even about more than education and discipline. It is about shepherding her and doing everything I can to inspire and encourage her to be constantly inching her heart towards God. She is His treasure. She belongs to Him and is loved deeply by Him. And I want her to know that more than anything.

I have a facebook. Statuses on facebook can offend me sometimes. They are usually the statuses that are opinionated against something one doesn’t agree with or one doesn’t like. Now I am not talking about people speaking out against truly evil things – I am talking about just being snarky about something that personally irritates them – or coming across as being more intelligent or sophisticated than some section of society.  Even if it is something I agree with -  if it is said with disgust or a “why are people so ignorant” attitude it gets under my skin like those bugs on The Mummy.

Well Sunday night was a zinger – I thought about canceling my facebook because I was just sick of people’s negativity. Blake calmly told me to stay on for the sole reason of it being an easy way to stay connected to our teenagers outside of youth – so I did. But I was just plain offended. I asked the Lord, “Isn’t that just so very snobby for people to flash their personal negative opinions or their specific aversions on facebook just because they can? Do they ever ask themselves why they are doing that? What their motive is? Don’t they see they are trying to make certain people feel stupid?”

And of course like God does so well, He pointed out the plank/s in my own eye.

Boy do I have some personal negative opinions and aversions! I don’t think I put them on facebook – I should go back and check myself, but either way, I have them – and often share them with a listening ear… I was quickly reminded by my conscience about my weekly trips to Target to get snacks for youth on Sunday evenings. It happens the same every week. I am in a hurry. “Why am I in a hurry?” you ask – Because that is the way I live. Even my postman has said to me, “You are always in such a hurry!”

Anyway…. back to Target… I live in a place that is notorious for being laid back. The culture around here is to enjoy life, to enjoy family, and to “smell the roses”…  Now that doesn’t mean this culture does not work hard – they DO! But they know how to relax as well. And Sunday afternoons at Target is the time to relax – it is the time to enjoy life, enjoy family, “smell the roses”……and lets not omit leaving buggies in the middle of the aisles while sniffing. So take yourself a mental picture of that and then imagine me storming in determined to get in and get out and heaven forbid anyone make me and my speeding bullet of a buggy walk slower than 15 mph.

…..And I tuck my tail in between my legs as God flashes this picture in my heart and asks,

“Don’t you think you are better than all those people at Target because they are slowing you down?”

“What do you think I think when I look down at Target and see people enjoying life, their families, “smelling the roses” and then I see your bursting down the aisles and remember, Christina…. I know your thoughts…”

“If I was on a side – whose side do you think I would be on?”

“Would I tell them to get their buggies out of the aisles or would I tell you to slow down and get your panties out of a wad.”

Ok….God didn’t use the word panties…but I got his point. I am guilty.

So I made a commitment to honor and obey the scriptures about love:

  “A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

- John 13: 34&35

Oh and this is a GOOD one!!

“Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins.” – 1 Peter 4:8

Check my words – Check my opinions – Check my heart when I give voice to my thoughts. What is my motive? Do I want to say this because I LOVE people or because I want to put certain people “in their place”?

I need to check myself even when I am standing FOR something. I feel like I swing between two extremes when it comes to standing FOR something. I either keep quiet or I get so riled up about something I speak out in anger rather than love. God has put a calling on mine and Blake’s heart to stand against racism…or maybe I should say to stand FOR racial reconciliation. We know it – God has confirmed it. Not that He needed to  – but He graciously has. We have the love for the races down – that is done. We LOVE other cultures, other people groups. (Even in Target now…) We are realizing each day the wrong perceptions we have bought into and are ashamed yet very excited that God is tearing out roots of pride and prejudice (hmm..that should be a book and replacing it with His perspective and truth. I know we have miles and miles to go, but it has been such an exciting journey so far. Aghh! Back to the point – we have the love for other cultures/people groups down – but God is showing us that we must love the other side too – the perpetrator or to a lesser degree the “unenlightened.” We have to desire freedom for them as well. We have to desire good for them too. As someone said to Blake recently after a discussion on racism, “You don’t know what I have gone through, young man!” And that is so true. None of us have walked in anyone else’s shoes. Now that doesn’t give us permission to stay quiet, but it most definitely requires of us a heart of love and affection for ALL people.

Fifteen years ago this month, Blake and I admitted to each other (in writing because face to face was just too embarrassing) that we liked each other. He was fourteen and I was fourteen months older. You know what it was that Blake did, what it was about him that made me fall for him? It was that I could see (from the outside) that his love for God was real by the way that he….worshiped.

Two years into our relationship I moved away to college, yet I think we managed to see each other every weekend but two. I discovered during that time that I was in love with him. We began to make plans that year, plans to go to Bible college and then into the ministry. I had a heart for children, missions, youth, and he just wanted to…… worship.

                                   
                                     Blake at 18 years

I couldn’t stand being so far from him anymore, so I came back home and worked while he finished his last year of high school. He lead worship at a small church and together we worked with the children, and it felt magnetic. Ministering with this boy that I loved and watching his 18 year old self lead people up to four times his age in…….worship.

                                    
                                                Our engagement picture. Spring 2000

We finally got married. We might have not reached twenty yet, but it felt like the longest wait I have EVER endured (including this adoption!). I was so in love that I felt sick when I was not with him. I felt desperate to be his. But when you wait on God’s timing – He rewards you in a beautiful way. I remember crying with happiness more than once those first few weeks. The waiting, the self-discipline, the obedience….it was worth it. As we enjoyed our first year of marriage we also soaked up Bible college, became part time staff at a little church with an amazing “Grandpa in the faith” pastor, and Blake worked as many hours as he could fit in at our Bible college in the audio department. Coming straight out of the Baptist church into a charismatic Bible school, we were learning a lot of things we hadn’t been exposed to before. We were hungry for all of the glory and presence of God that He was willing to give us. I remember our pastor praying over Blake in their home one night as I sat near by. I saw God pour Himself out on Blake in an incredible way as he cried out to God and……worshiped.

                                 
                                   December 16, 2000

After Bible college, Blake accepted a job as a technical director at a large church in the DFW area. He knew that it was what God was calling him to do. To lay aside his calling to lead worship, and to learn to serve. Learn to honor. Learn to trust. Learn to wait. Learn to let God mold and prune and uproot and plant. I wrote a blog a few months ago about my journey through those years and promised to write my husband’s side. But I find that it doesn’t feel right to write “his” story. It was his journey, his struggles, and his victories. But one thing I know I can say…is that he grew in my eyes to become a man that had a spiritual maturity that I could not even comprehend. I remember one of those first weekends sitting on the back row by myself with our baby on my lap, for sure that my husband had heard wrong and we were missing out on God’s REAL plan for us. My eyes found the sound booth and I saw a sight that took my breath away… Blake with one hand on the sound board, his eyes and ears intent on the stage but with his other hand raised high in worship. Weekend after weekend I would see him posture himself in this way. I would know what the week before had been like for him. I would know the longings in his heart that were just as strong as mine. I would know the dreams he held at bay. And I would see him faithful to the place God had put Him, yet never for a minute giving up his untamed instinct to….. worship.

           
                                   Blake and Camden                                                          Blake with both kids

Tonight I write this while he is at worship practice with his worship team. God is bringing fulfillment to the desires He has placed inside of our hearts. I love that he is the one that leads me into worship on Sunday mornings. It shouts of the faithfulness of God every time. But do you know what I really love? I love that he has been my worship leader for the past 15 years. He was my worship leader when he lead worship for our youth group in junior high at the same time that he was undergoing radiation for cancer. He was my worship leader when in high school, he would bring his guitar to the run down apartments on the bad side of town and we would sit under a tree and sing with group of beautiful African American children (little did we know….;) He was my worship leader when we would sit in our on-campus apartment and he would sing me the songs he would write for his worship leading classes. He was my worship leader when he would rock and sing our babies to sleep night after night after night.  He is my worship leader every time I hear him teach Hope the words to a new song he has learned. He is my worship leader all those times that we are going through something difficult and he says, “You know what song we need to sing right now?”…..  He is my worship leader every Saturday night when he  turns his ipod  on and the songs for the next day begin to be heard throughout the house, and he gets quiet, and I know he is praying, I know he is focusing, I know he is calling out for the presence of God, and the house gets peaceful and I sense Him drawing near and I can’t help but join in and…..worship.

“Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men. Let them sacrifice thank offerings and tell of His works with songs of joy.”  Psalms 107:24&25

We have to plan to do nothing every once in awhile. Summers are busy. I know if we don’t fit in some down time I will NOT be ready to start our homeschool year back in mid-August. So today was a “no plans” day. We got up late, made waffles, called up friends and asked them if we could come swim in their pool…they said yes, so we did, and now we are home REALLY doing nothing. Well Blake and I are doing nothing. The kids are dragging out a 20 minute job of cleaning their room into a never-ending project. But oh well, that is their choice, I suppose.

I can get so caught up in things sometimes. Let details stress me out. Let worry steal my joy. Let insignificant priorities come before the most precious things in my life. I have different words that seem to be branded to my heart during different seasons of my life. I think the word for the next few months for me is going to be: Enjoy
 
Don’t those seem to be the kind of people that you admire? Those that enjoy. Enjoy their children. Enjoy their jobs. Enjoy being around people. Enjoy serving. Enjoy laughing at chaos instead of being overwhelmed by it? And Enjoy coming into the presence of God when life starts being a bully.

I laid down with Camden last night. He had a headache. I cannot remember my children ever having had a headache. I know of a girl that passed away just a couple of weeks ago from a blood clot in the brain. Of course that was the first thought that flashed into my mind as I came in from my walk and Blake said, “Do you have something for Camden to take for a headache?” As I laid beside him holding him close I thought about all the Mommies all over the world with very sick children and my heart was overwhelmed with gratitude for the health of my children. Their sibling arguing, their disastrously messy rooms, my constantly missing scotch tape and scissors. Mindless distractions that I allow to steal my ability to: Enjoy.
 

You know what else steals my joy? The things I don’t like about myself. Right now I am talking about the “outside” of me stuff. The fact that I am not near as skinny as I once was, my hair well its never been that nice to me, and my complexion, “Oh my GOSH!!” It makes me crazy. I am 30 years old and its worse than ever. I pray for healing. I spend money on expensive proactiv. And it still tortures me. Our pastor told us this past Sunday that we all have scars…physical, spiritual, and emotional. But we shouldn’t hide because of them. They show #1 that we have lived through battles and #2 that we can empathize with others. So I put my make-up-less picture on here in a step of surrender that my imperfections will not make me hide. Physical, Emotional, Spiritual wounds and scars – God can use them all for His glory. I love on the movie Soul Surfer where “Bethany” says that she would not go back and change what happened to her (the shark attack and loss of her arm) even if she could, because she realizes that she has the opportunity to embrace more people with one arm that she could have ever even imagined if she still had two. How life changing would it be if we could be so honest about our scars? Instead of feeling ashamed, or awkward, or envious, we can see our wounds, our scars, our imperfections even our mistakes as “platforms” for impacting the lives of other people. Maybe I will add the word “Impact” to my word “Enjoy.”

I have a mad response. If I get embarrassed, offended, rejected, made fun of, talked bad about…it doesn’t matter – I get mad. Boiling angry inside my head. Gratefully, I have been, for the most part, quite capable at hiding the severity of my anger. I have asked myself;  I have asked my mom; I have asked my husband, I have even asked God “Why is anger always my ‘go to’ reaction?” No one has seemed to have an answer for me.

I couldn’t begin to count the times that I have tried to cry when I was hurt or offended by someone. I know deep down that I am very, very sad. I physically ache with the pain, but very rarely do I cry for myself. I am always too mad to cry. My anger covers every other emotion until all I see is red. All that I feel is rage.

The worst thing about my anger is that it is like a concrete wall between me and the voice and presence of God. I have reminded Him so often, “God, see me!!??  I am mad and I am not sinning. That’s allowed, remember? Now please take it away. I beg of you – its like chains around my neck and my heart.” But I have always felt left to handle it on my own. To let it pass over me and just endure it. I have been enduring waves of anger for as long as I can remember. Since I was so very little.

Last night I crawled into bed with my annoying companion: Mad. I felt like I was lying in bed with a weighted vest around my lungs. I was so sick of it.

But then I remembered that I had an advantage this time! I had just spent five days last week at youth camp with our teenagers. I was refreshed. Jesus had done amazing things in my heart and, like Hope does when she doesn’t want Blake to go to work, I was still clinging tightly to His neck.

So I cried out right in His ear because I felt that close,
“God I know you can speak to this anger inside of me.  I know you can set me free.”

And suddenly I was a tiny girl again.

I was treated for Leukemia for three years as a preschooler. Every eight weeks I would have to get a bone marrow biopsy. Today they sedate young children for this procedure. They did not back then. I remember my parents would take me to a room where there would be a few nurses who would begin to talk and play with me. I knew going in that I was going to have to get a “back stick.” I remember the dread that I would feel. But as the nurses would talk, play, and smile, I would relax. I would begin to think that everything would be okay. That nothing bad would happen. I would start to like those pretty, sweet nurses. Then, before I knew it, things would change and I would be getting the “back stick.”

And I remember feeling hot, searing rage at those nurses. It was worse than the physical pain.

God said to me, “That is where you learned this. That is where you picked up this concrete wall that you have carried with you all of these years.”

The physical pain, that the medical field has agreed is too much for a child to endure, along with the emotional pain of feeling betrayed  by the nurses was just too great for me to face. So I fought back with anger. Deep inside of me anger.

God said to me, “Give yourself the freedom to feel the pain.” So I did. I felt the pain under all of my anger. Pain from much, much more that just the mad I had dragged with me to bed last night. It hurt. Deep, real, honest, raw hurt. But it felt so good, because as I let myself own up to the pain, my anger began to fade.

And I sensed that concrete wall, that despised and hated concrete wall begin to crumble.

And I heard God whisper, “I am near to the brokenhearted.”

He wants the real me. I knew that. We all know that. What we don’t know, however, is that so often we do not even know who we really are.  We do not know what our REAL emotions even are. We don’t know where we lost the ability to feel honest emotions.

And God can’t minister to our masks. Our masks are lies. My anger was a lie. It had to be brought to the light so that God could minister to the real me. To the insecure me. To the easily offended me. To the rejected and betrayed me. He wants to comfort me as I face the truth of my pain and let Him lift it off of me in His time and in His way. He does not want my pain covered up by Satan’s substitutes: anger, addictions, self destruction, shame, etc..

What is your mask? When did you pick it up? Jesus spoke to my mask. He called forth the truth inside of me. I want Him to do that for you. I want to pray for you. I want YOUR concrete wall to crumble. 

God, give us strength to face those dark corners of our darkest days where we built concrete walls thinking it would be easier to hide behind them, then face the pain. Thank you for being comfortable with our pain and our tears. Comfortable in a way that you cry with us, your grieve with us, your mourn with us. Thank you for loving us as we discover who we really are. And thank you that you turn mourning into dancing. Today, I feel like dancing.

For the first 19 months we were here, we did not have medical insurance. During that time, none of us ever got sick or hurt enough to have to see a Doctor. I know that God had His hand of protection on us. In January, Blake’s job began to pay for he and I to have medical insurance. Last month I had to put it to use for the first time. I went in to get my foot checked and x-rayed. I knew that our insurance company would not cover the xrays and I have been anxiously awaiting the bill for that. Yesterday I got a letter from our insurance company letting me know that the medical clinic charged $75 for the xrays  but that they would only allow them to charge us $40 for them. I had forgotten about that….that they tell the doctor/hospital/ect.. the maximum they can charge us.

Last night I was laying in bed thinking again, how great it felt to have someone tell the clinic what they were allowed to charge us, when I heard God say,
“I do that for you too, Christina.”

Life is hard. It is full of sacrifices and hardships that so often we have no choice but to endure. Sometimes I feel so out of control, and it makes me feel like I am suffocating in my anxiety. But last night God reminded me that I have a constant defender in Him. He DOES take life by the neck sometimes and say, “Ok that’s enough…Leave her alone.” He knows when I have reached my limit. He knows the exact moment when the struggles of this life cease to be about building my character and dependance on Him, and begin to cause my spirit to feel utterly hopeless and defeated. It is then that He stands up and fights for me. He rescues me and gives me time to drink by the still waters. He restores my soul. He reminds me that even through the shadows of darkness He never leaves me. (Ps. 23) That knowledge gives me the motivation to keep pressing on, to push farther than I pushed yesterday. To trust Him deeper than I trusted Him through the last valley. I picture Him standing beside me guarding me with His mighty right hand and singing over me and loving me every second of my life. (Zeph 3) He is a beautiful, beautiful God.