What if . . . JOURNAL PROMPT

What if . . . God wants something from me that makes me uncomfortable? Chances are, He does.

When I started working with Celebrate Recovery, one of the men who started this ministry in our church told me it would be the hardest ministry I had ever done. I didn't doubt that. But I had no idea how God would open my eyes to things in such dramatic ways, and how he would use the women I was ministering to in ways I could not have imagined, to change my heart and bring healing to me.

Recently one of the ladies I've been mentoring for a few weeks moved out of the transition home she has been living in since being released from prison into an inner city ministry home. The day she was moving I picked her up along with her meager belongings. We spent the day together along with my youngest daughter. We ran errands, had a nice long lunch together and then moved her things into her new home. While we were running errands I took her by to see the home that my husband and I moved out of almost 2 years ago after 8 break-ins. The last year or so that we lived there I never walked out my door without being armed because of the crime all around us. I had become so angry with the whole situation that I lived with the constant thought that eventually someone would break in our home while I was in the house, and I would probably shoot someone and kill them. The pattern the criminals used in my neighborhood was for 3 minors to break in, one adult to drive, and another person to be the lookout. Knowing that if I ended up shooting someone, it would probably be a teenager, bothered me at first. But by the time we moved, I really didn't care any more. When that reality hit me, my husband and I knew it was time to walk away from the home we loved.

As my new friend and I were driving up to my old neighborhood, about 3 blocks from where I used to live, she interrupted our conversation to tell me that a rundown, now abandoned store we were passing used to be her address. She was homeless and lived under the bridge behind the store and they let her use their address to receive mail. I was a little more than startled by this news, and my heart just melted to think of all that she has been through.

As the home I had loved so much came into view, I pointed to it and told her a few things about it. I showed her the camellia bushes that bloom so beautifully in the winter. I told her about the sweet smelling wisteria that grows up the big tree on the patio. Then we rounded the corner and I showed her the abandoned houses and the crack houses where the crime was coming from that the police couldn't seem to control. As we passed by some of those houses, I noticed she was looking out the window. Then she quietly spoke and told me that she didn't think she remembered my house, and she didn't think she had ever broken into it, but if she had she was really sorry.

It was much later that night when the full irony of the whole situation really hit me. This woman, who is now my friend, is someone that just a short time ago I would have shot without blinking an eye, without even knowing who she was or what her story was, had she dared to break in my home while I was there. Granted, I probably would have been in therapy for the rest of my life. But in the moment, I would have aimed and shot to kill. And I'm a good marksman.

I don't write this to open a debate about rights or laws or obligations when you are a victim of a crime. That's a whole different subject. I can't explain why we were victims of so many crimes when the homes around us weren't plagued as often. I can say without a doubt that God's timing is impeccable, that saying he works in mysterious ways is an understatement.

It took about a year for my heart to heal over feeling like we were forced out of our home. I can say now in all honesty that I don't miss my house any more. I can also say that I believe that God knew where he was leading me. He knew that there was no way I could work with these women with the anger and resentment that I held toward crime, those who commit them, and the system that constantly releases them back onto our streets. He knew I needed time to work through the resentment and anger. I had no idea.

So, with those things in mind, this question has been burning a hole in my heart. WHAT IF . . . ? For a couple of years now, I've been asking myself, 'what if I really lived what I say I believe?' But this week it has been so much more prevalent in my mind.

We live in a culture where words don't always mean what we say. God's word calls us to obedience. It seems to me that most of us call it obedience if we just look like we are following the rules on the surface. He didn't say to obey when it is easy, when everyone else is doing it, when you aren't being challenged, when it goes along with the culture. He called us to a life of holiness that defies our limited understanding and ability. Then He equips us to follow that call.

With that in mind:

What if . . . the next time God tapped on my heart I just ran to the thing he was showing me?

What if . . . when God asks me to do something I responded with an immediate YES, before the enemy  
     had time to put a hundred excuses in my head?

What if . . . I personally ministered to the poor, the prisoners, the homeless, the outcasts, instead of just
     sending my money hoping someone else would do it?

What if . . . I quit making excuses for why I don't respond to those tugs on my heart? I don't have time,  
     money, strength, passion, desire, you fill in the blank.

What if . . . I broke down some of those safe little walls I have built and actually listened long enough to hear
     God's voice?

What if . . . I really lived out what I say I believe?

What if . . . I actually did love like Jesus does?

IF you do any of the above, you may find yourself running toward someone you just heard say she wished someone would just kill her because she doesn't have the courage to kill herself.

You may find yourself with your hands on the side of her face looking right into her eyes and telling her to just CHOOSE LIFE!

You may find yourself making new friends that look nothing like you, act nothing like you, and have habits and lifestyles that you completely disagree with.

And you may find yourself discovering that you have just realized what real obedience looks like. And you might even enjoy it.

Blessings,
Renea

Journal prompt.

If I could tell my younger self . . .

If you aren't familiar with Celebrate Recovery, here is a quick overview of how a meeting goes. We open with worship, followed by either a lesson or a testimony. Then we break up into small groups followed by a meal together. In small groups we discuss what we heard in the large group and have a series of questions related to the evening's theme as discussion starters. We can answer one of those questions or discuss whatever we are struggling with. Or we can say pass if we don't want to talk. 

One of the questions on our list during group this past Friday was, "If you could go back and change anything what would you change?" Most of the ladies chose this question to answer. Some of their answers were simply heartbreaking. 

It is amazing to watch God working in these ladies lives. But I so wish that I could just miraculously convey the message to them that there is hope. That God loves them. That the pain and suffering they are experiencing now will one day by used for God's glory to help someone else who has been in their shoes. But first they have to allow Him to bring healing into their broken hearts. That is a hard sell when you are in the midst of said suffering, and you've never known unconditional love. 

For someone who is in survival mode, it's really hard to comprehend letting go of the little ounce of control that you feel you have, even if it is to give that control to the creator of the universe. For those of us who have walked with the Lord for years, sometimes we take for granted the trust and faith that we have, knowing that God really is working all things for our good. When you are a person who hasn't had much good in your life, or who hasn't had anything good for a really long time, GOOD seems like something that only happens to other people. Taking a chance on trusting an unseen God can seem pretty risky for a heart that has been broken, stomped on, and left on the streets to die. Some of these ladies have survived only by sheer willpower and street smarts. Trust, freedom, unconditional love, and GRACE, are completely foreign terms to many of them.

I chose not to answer the question of what I would go back and change. The list is too long, too painful, and way more information than I had time or the nerves to share. And since that isn't an option anyway, I chose to focus on where I am now. What my life is like after 26 years of sobriety and trusting God every day.

                    

                         For grace over my past, 

                                                  peace to find joy in the present, and 

                                                                           strength to face whatever the future holds. 

This isn't quite what I said to them, but here's a small portion of what I've learned over the years.

I've learned that I'm never going to have all the answers. 

I've learned that forgiveness is cleansing, both being forgiven and gifting that to others, even when they don't deserve it. 

I've learned that my heart can find joy, even when I'm not happy. 

I've learned that being transformed by a holy God doesn't take away my control, it gives me self-control.

I've learned that my God is truly everything He says He is. 

So, if I could go back and tell my younger self anything . . . 

I'd tell her to let go of her fear, quit worrying about what others think, and enjoy life.

I'd tell her that she is loved already and that no one on earth can fill that emptiness in her soul.

I'd tell her that beauty on the inside is so much more pleasing and lasts longer than what is on the outside. 

I'd tell her that acne does eventually go away.

I'd tell her to listen more and talk less

I'd tell her not to judge others harshly, because she has no idea what they are going through.

I'd tell her to read her bible every single day, even if she doesn't understand what she is reading.

I'd tell her that prayer is a conversation which requires listening as well as talking.

I'd tell her that there are going to be some really hard days, but Jesus is going to hold her through it all.

 And that after those hard days, she will see God's hand was at work through the pain.

I'd tell her that giving everything to God means getting everything of Him, 

and that is worth more than she could ever imagine.

And more than anything else,

if I could go back and tell my younger self only one thing . . .

I would tell her that God loves her.

HER.

Not just the whole world. But her.

Unconditionally.

Completely.

Beyond anything she can imagine.

As an individual.

As a child of the king of all kings.

As a chosen daughter.

As a precious child.

That's what I would want my younger self to know.

Because that is what has made all the difference in the world to me for the last 26 years.

He loves ME.

Period.

Blessings,

Renea