I want to be different . . . journal prompt

Last week I was an outside observer to an incident that I can't really give details of here due to it's confidential nature. But let me just tell you that it was something that any average citizen who was treated this way would have been appalled. But these weren't 'average' citizens. These were former prisoners. As I've gotten to know some of these people I've noticed something that has bothered me and made me take a closer examination of my own life. 

From their vantage point, they don't expect to be treated with respect. 

They don't expect people to be honest with them.

They don't expect you to like them.

And most of all, they certainly don't expect you to be their friend in the true sense of the word.

What they expect is to be lied to,

shunned by others,

looked down on,

and used and abused. 

In truth, part of that is because that's how many of them have treated other people. I get that. But the rest of the story is often that they have always been treated that way. Granted, some of these people come from great homes and they just screwed up. And now they can't see any way back to healthy relationships and a 'normal' life. I believe with all my heart that this can be changed for many of them. Don't get me wrong, I've been brutally honest with them. If they do something stupid, I'd be the first in line to call their parole officer if I thought they'd be safer in jail. And I realize that not everyone wants to be saved from a destructive lifestyle. I'm not naive about this. But that doesn't give me license to treat them with disrespect.

I am sort of a no compromise type of girl. This is right; that is wrong; what is it you don't understand? That's me. Life is pretty black and white to me. (No racial implications there at all.) I don't see many gray areas. I realize there are some fine lines in life that we all have to walk. And the older I get, the more those lines seem to blur. I'm not sure if that is my age or the culture, or perhaps a combination of the two. But I usually don't have a hard time seeing right from wrong. 

Some of these people honestly do.

Sometimes they act completely out of survival mode and just deal with consequences later.

Act, then think.

It's a terrible way to have to live. 

Sometimes they literally need someone to talk them step by step through the ordinary tasks that most of us take for granted. But if they want to change their lives, many of them can, with help!

Through the weeks leading up to Pentecost our church is reading a devotional on holiness that our pastor, Matt Friedeman wrote. Our memory verse this week is:

Jesus replied: 

"Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind." Matthew 22:37

If this is how I want to live my life, and it is, then people matter. All people. Not just the ones who fit in. Not just the ones who are socially acceptable. Several of these people have become my friends. The response I get over and over from them is that I'm something extraordinary just because I actually care about them and treat them with respect. Not true. There is nothing special about me. I'm just a sinner saved by grace. My past didn't involve a prison with metal bars, but I was just as much a prisoner as they were. I'm no better than anyone else. 

What I took away from this incident that happened, which was completely inappropriate and an emotional violatiion, and possibly a legal one, is that I NEVER want to be that person that they expect me to be. Pastor Matt often says we want to love like Jesus does at DaySpring Community Church. 

Jesus loved the socially unacceptable. 

Jesus loved the poor. 

Jesus loved the outcasts. 

Jesus had compassion for those who were caught in sin. 

I want that kind of love. 

I never want anyone to say that I looked down on them because of their social status. 

I want to love my God with everything that is in me. 

And I want to love people with that same kind of love. 

I want to be different from what is expected by those who are the 'least of these'. 

I want to be different from the world. 

I want to love like Jesus does. 

Always. 

Blessings,

Renea

My Testimony . . .

Right now I have about a dozen posts that are still drafts for one reason or another. Some are awaiting pictures. Some I just haven't finished. And some I'm struggling to find the right words to convey the message I want to give. This is one of those posts.

About a week ago my pastor asked me about giving my 3 minute testimony in church, then expanding that testimony into 30 minutes for Celebrate Recovery. I've been helping with Celebrate Recovery for just a couple of months. The Lord had clued me in that giving my testimony was coming. As soon as my pastor mentioned it to me, the nightmares started. Working with Celebrate Recovery has brought up so many memories that I would rather keep buried, hidden deep in the past. Things that are no longer a part of my life. Hurts that God has healed me from, but still bring feelings of shame and guilt when I dwell on them. There was so much damage that was done by poor choices I made. And fears that linger from damage that was done to me by others, those scars that fade with time but still sting when reopened.

Nightmares were a regular part of my life for a long time. For about two years after I was raped, I dealt with terrifying nightmares at least several times a week. They usually come back any time I have to open that wound again and talk to people about rape. Over the years, I've learned how to combat them. I know that prayer and fasting are the answer. But I didn't do that this time. For about a week, I just let them fester like an open wound. A week of sleepless nights. A week of missed opportunity to give my heavenly Father victory over my past. Again. Sometimes we are such lost sheep, even after we have been found. For me, I often find myself in a new pasture, or wandering in an old pasture that I thought had been destroyed, lost and afraid again.

Then I remember. I recall those promises I've learned to depend on.

"If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature;

the old things passed away;

behold, new things have come." 

II Corinthians 5:17

I am reminded by my precious Savior that his love is sufficient, that his grace has covered my past, that I am no longer that lost sheep, that his plans for me are all good, that he hears me when I call to him.

And he answers.

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord,

"plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

plans to give you a hope and a future.

Then you will call on me and come and pray to me,

and I will listen to you.

You will seek me and find me when you seek me with your whole heart."

Jeremiah 29:11-13

As I've been praying about what I should share in a 3 minute testimony, I've struggled with what I should say. How do you convey years and years of foolish choices, a broken, destroyed life, AND God's grace that redeemed that life 26 years ago - in 3 minutes? I've been reading 'The Lent Project' by Journey Church. On Day 22, the prayer at the end of the devotion concluded with this sentence.

"Make me so focused on Your message that I stop feeling the need to spread my own."

And it hit me. Like God just reached down into the depths of my soul and clarified everything. My testimony isn't about mistakes I've made, my failures, my poor choices or insecurities, my broken life! My testimony is about what He has done in me, His healing, His redemption, His undeserved mercy. Three minutes certainly isn't long enough to recount all the amazing blessings He has poured into my life in the last 26 years. But 3 minutes of His miraculous works beats 30 minutes of my failures any day!

I pray that anyone reading this has found the beautiful healing love that can only come from a perfect God. If you are struggling to find God's grace, please know that He is pursuing your heart. His relentless love is infinite and unconditional. He will never fail you or desert you. And I would love to share with you how he has radically changed my life! Feel free to message me any time.

Blessings,
Renea

CHOOSE to listen . . .

"The majority of us have no ear for anything but ourselves, we cannot hear a thing God says. To be brought into the zone of the call of God is to be profoundly changed."
Oswald Chambers
My Utmost For His Highest, Jan 16

Today I  will CHOOSE to LISTEN.

-to the still small voice that resides deep in my soul

-to turn off the noise in my head that calls me to go this way, then that way

-to really hear what is being said to me

-to wait for instruction before jumping ahead

-to listen carefully and discern meaning before speaking

-to listen to the truth I know, not the doubts that arise trying to defeat me

-to listen to the promises from my God who never breaks His covenants

-to listen to the eternal hope I have that cannot be shaken by circumstances of this temporary life

Today I will remember that I have the power to CHOOSE.

To choose what will play in my head.

To choose where my heart will rest.

I CHOOSE today to LISTEN to my Father who loves me.

One little word.

Choose.

Blessings,
Renea

Choose JOY . . .

For You have been my help, And in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy. Psalm 63:7

Today I am going to choose JOY.

Ever notice when you decide to make a conscious effort to be joyful life tends to go awry? Well, in case you haven't noticed, let me just warn you, going awry will probably happen. lol

For those who don't know, my husband, college daughter and I, all moved into our little RV home this past summer. For the most part, it has been a peaceful and even tranquil transition. Once I resolved to make the best of the situation and enjoy the perks, like a much smaller area to keep clean, (I don't even own a mop any more!), being able to sit outside in the mornings and have my devotional time looking at the water, and a host of other things, life really got much better.

Then winter happened. I know that may not be shocking to most people, but having lived in Mississippi for almost my whole life, winter is something that happens to the rest of the country, but not us. I mean, we have a really cold snap off and on, and occasionally it snows. But the next day it all melts, giving a concrete meaning to the term cold SNAP.

Unfortunately, like most of the eastern half of the country, winter in Mississippi has been a little weird this year. Frigid cold weather has rocked our southern world. And out little RV has rocked with it, with the wind, that is. So far we have invaded my parents' home now three different times. Christmas week we had an electrical circuit blow. On a Sunday. So we had no electricity. Then we forgot to leave the water running overnight during the first really cold front we had and woke up to no water. For three days. And last night at midnight we were gotten out of bed by a chirping sound that we finally identified as the LP gas monitor. We reset it twice to no avail. Then we got the manual out. The instructions were pretty severe. Turn off the gas, open all the windows, turn on all the exhaust fans, do not turn touch any light switches and exit the RV! So at 1:00 this morning we showed up at my parents' home to spend the night for the third time in a month.

As we were frantically trying to get dressed and grab what we had to have to leave the RV last night, visions of the RV exploding into flames and burning up were racing through my head. If there are two things I'm afraid of, fire and gas explosions would definitely be at the top of the list. I got a pretty sick feeling in my stomach just thinking about it. Then as we drove away, the thought occurred to me that even if that happened after we left, that the three of us would not be in it! And I thanked God that we were safe. I was reminded of a friend from my youth whose house just burned. Her beautiful spirit of gratefulness for God's protection over her family in the middle of the night has been an inspiration to me. Even in her mourning the loss of pictures, family heirlooms, those treasured things that we pour so much of our lives into, she is able to praise our Father for his loving arms that kept them safe and woke them up in time to get out of their burning home. And I was humbled. Again.

So today I am going to choose JOY.

JOY for an annoying chirping sound that alerted us to danger.

JOY for knowing that a heavenly Father is watching over my family even when we aren't thinking about Him.

JOY for the everyday mundane things that I take for granted, like electricity, running water, heat when it's cold.

JOY for parents who are willing to open their home to us time and time again, even at 1:00 in the morning!

JOY for life itself.

JOY.

Just one tiny little word.

Blessings,
Renea