Just Not There

Here I am Lord, Send Me.

Isaiah 6:8. A scripture that has become a popular tattoo, Facebook cover photo, Pinterest pin, necklace print, and Christian motto that gets thrown into conversation with excitement and promise. We picture in our mind all the places the Lord is going to send us; exotic countries, new business ventures, church ministries, and yes, blogs, along with all the people that are going to be moved away from the rock inside their heart or set free from addiction and fear, and even saved, by what we are doing.

But what happens when we are sent somewhere we don't want to go? I can tell you what happened to me, what is happening....
I move throughout the day feeling a lot like Jonah.

For anyone who doesn't know who Jonah is, a quick recap. Jonah was a prophet in the Old Testament days.. a guy the Lord would speak to and off Jonah would go to wherever God told him, to deliver news of repentance, faith, and restoration. Jonah had a pretty good gig going on. I imagine his track record was excellent and numbers were up. I imagine he took some pride in where he went and what happened once he was there.

Until God said, "Go to Nineveh."

Say, what?
Nineveh?
Are you sure, God? Because those people are jacked up. (Not Old Testament terminology but you get the essence here, right?)

Jonah did not want to go. These people in Nineveh; they weren't his cup of tea. A reputation proceeded them and Jonah thought "hey - let them get what they deserve. Sure God ... you can send me .. just not there."

Eventually Jonah ended up going but not until he faced an angry ocean and a large fish. If you want to see a quick synopsis that gets right to the point - watch VeggieTales. It will catch you up real quick.

I always found it a little easy to judge Jonah. ( I know - gasp! - the "J" word) but let's be honest. No one wants to think they would be found in his company.

And when you do .. it's really uncomfortable.

You see, I think we all picture we will gladly say "Yes!" That we will pick up our cross (or our suitcase, our apron, our dollar bills) and set off towards whatever God-adventure lies ahead with gusto and a smile to match. But I also think we picture the God-adventure is something we will want to say Yes to. It will align with our own dreams, desires, wants. And yes, while God does place dreams in us and gives us the ability to make them a reality, there is something He cares about far more than that.

People.

God cares about people.

He cares about you, me, our family, our church family... but He also cares about the homeless guy that asks for money on the corner and he might not buy food with that money; it is quite possible he will buy beer. He cares about the woman who stands outside your grocery store with her small children and pretends to be homeless but drives off later in a BMW. He cares about the guy who works hard to provide for his family but when he comes home he's exhausted and irritable and can only knead his brow and drink his beer when the kids start screaming. He cares about the woman who has excelled and becomes so successful in her business yet goes to bed feeling empty and lost and wondering what her purpose is. He cares about the teenagers that are smoking pot around the corner, behind 7-11, who laugh too loud and curse too much. He cares about the ministry leader at your church that is burnt out and beat up but keeps smiling, keeps pushing, and keeps asking Jesus, "Is this enough? Is this? Am I making a difference for you, God?"

It's not about us. It's not about me.

That's kind of a tough truth to swallow, isn't it?

Sure, we say we know this, but when we are asked to make our words a verb, when we need to step waaaay out of our comfort zone and go somewhere that makes us cringe, we sure don't act like we believe it.

I know I don't.

It's been two weeks since I've started to look at Jonah with a little more compassion, a little more empathy; considering him as a human and not just some backwards hero in the bible. Isn't it funny how God does that? The way he flips a mirror of all the things we dislike about other people and reveals those same things stamped across our own face, written inside the secret places of our own heart?

It's called pruning. The bible talks a lot about that too. Getting rid of the branches that don't produce any fruit to make way for ones that do.

Pruning hurts. I mean, have you ever pruned a rosebush or cut the branches on your trees? The shears are sharp, sure, and final. They don't leave room for halfway or uncertainty. No one can slice off an eight of a branch - it's all or nothing.

That's how God wants us when we say, "Here I am Lord, send me!" He wants it all.

I was recently promoted at work .. but for the promotion I have to leave a store that I know, people that I love, and go to one that has a not-so-good reputation, with a boss of not-so-good character. They are not all of ill regard. Not all, mind you. But enough. Enough to make my stomach twist and my feet drag and my mouth grimace and my palms sweat.

Just. Not. There.

I knew as soon as I was offered the position that I would accept it. I knew because I was laughing inside at how God is ... He isn't going to put me where I want, He's going to move me where I'm needed.

I keep trying to be grateful for it.

I am not always up to the task.

I recently started reading Jesus > Religion by Jefferson Bethke. He makes a statement on Page 10 that I wish I could have highlighted to infinity. He writes, "In the scriptures, Jesus isn't safe."

Let that sink in for a minute.

"In the Scriptures,
Jesus
isn't
safe."

It's beautiful and terrifying all at once.
Isn't it?

So many of us are in awe of Paul, Peter, John, Mary, David, Moses, Noah, Jesus .... and the list goes on and on. We are struck by their courage, their steadfastness, the persistence and dynamic faith they all demonstrate. Not one of them did anything safe.

Can you imagine being in any of their prayer circles? Can you picture praying for Moses before he parted the Red Sea or Noah before he built the Ark in preparedness for rain no one had ever seen before, and pray for safety? The immediate act of what they were doing already nixed safety. In the middle of miracles, there's not a sliver of room for safety. I would bet, you would probably get laughed at, for even suggesting such a thing.

Why do I expect any different?

No. I'm not parting a sea, or leading an army, or speaking in front of kings. But I am moving forward, one foot in front of the other, towards people that are lost, hardened, cynical ... people that need to know they are loved just as they are, right where they are. And if you have ever felt unloved or unacceptable, you know how hard it is to be convinced that you are.

So I am praying. I am praying my heart is right before God. I am praying for God to help me do this work.

I am praying that I am worthy of the task before me. And because I know I am not ... I am praying that God's grace and love and light will be more and more evident for all to see.

Under Construction

.... And that's not the end of the story.
Me finding Jesus or being saved, that is.
The story did not stop and the happy ending start when I cried my soul out to Jesus on the church floor that day. If it had, then I guess everyone would get saved wouldn't they? A life without suffering. A daily guarantee of comfort. It's sticking it out - this Christian faith - when life gets really hard and too much for us to understand. That's when we see what we're made of.
If there's any substance.
Anyone that tells you finding Jesus will make your life rosy is lying to you. A few months in you may want to find them and high -five their face.
And then ask for forgiveness.
It's not rosy. It's not white picket fences. It's not a whole, smiling family. It's not a place where jobs are never lost, bills are always paid, Target trips happen every two weeks, kids stay drug free, and husbands never cheat.

Nope.
You're not in heaven just yet.
You have the Hope but life right here can still throw mud in your face and drag you into a pit of crazy. The difference is - Jesus has a rope that doesn't break. You just have to hang on. Tight.

No one really warned me about that. I think some tried to, in a really nice good Christian way, but i wish someone would have just quit trying to be so nice and said straight up, "You've spent the last 18 years in all this crap and your family was in the same crap for at least 18 years before you and your husband and his family? Another twenty years of a different kind of crap. The consequences are still rolling in like waves.

Wear a life jacket."

Some of those waves weren't bad. A few feet. The kind I could boogie board over. But then others would come, tidal wave status, and I'd would watch my life get sucked right out from under me while I tried not to drown.

I wish I could say all these waves, especially the big ones, were of someone else's doing.
It's hard to look at yourself and know the role you have played in the crumbling of your own life. Oh but I did.
I gripped it sometimes with both hands, hurling down bricks with my words; leaving my fingers and relationships, damaged and bleeding.

A wise woman builds her home, but a foolish woman tears it down with her own hands. Proverbs 14:1

I was foolish. And the worst part is that I knew it. I knew it and i felt unable to stop it. I remember huddling on the floor, wailing, helpless, lost in an abyss of frustration and inadequacy, and then i would grab my own hair and start to pull it. I would drag my fingernails down my face to try and make myself bleed, try to make myself disappear. I would bang my head against the wall, eyes wild, screaming.

I was going crazy. I couldn't do it right. No one saw me.
I wasn't good enough.

The helplessness I would feel would wrap me in a straightjacket of fear so tight I felt like I couldn't breathe. I was coming undone.

Isaiah 1:17 says to "learn to do right." Know what that means? You also have to unlearn how to do wrong.

No one told me this either. I thought it would just happen. I thought all the badness would vanish and "poof!" in it's place would be all this shiny goodness. It was a shock to me to still struggle - almost more because now I knew better. I knew I had to be better.

Looking back, I can see how the Enemy must have laughed and laughed, using me and my life, as his personal game of dodge ball. There I stood in the center as he hurled, "ANGER" and "FUTILITY" and "DEFECTIVE" at my head. If those didn't work, out flew "ugly" and "fat" and "unwanted" and "slut". These would knock me down. These would leave me hardened; scar tissue all over. These would make me fight back.
Except I couldn't see the devil.
So I fought everyone else instead.
With my words. With my hands.
I tore down.
Until there was almost nothing left.

No one told me I could catch the ball. No one told me I didn't have to keep playing the game. No one told me all I had to do was stop and stand, stare him down with the Word and he would run from me. I was told things like, "This too shall pass" and "Just trust Jesus" but no one told me how to do that or what it meant.

And it's pretty simple really.
I choose to react with His words rather than mine.
Simple.
Not easy.
Just to clarify.

I wouldn't lie to you like that.

So, I have learned and I have unlearned.
Learn - to love my enemies. Unlearn - I don't verbally castrate every man that gets on my last nerve to prove to him I am just as good as he is if not better. (see the attitude there? Still a work in progress folks.)
Learn - to show mercy and give grace. Unlearn - If my feelings are hurt, I don't try to hurt back. I keep my mouth shut and sometimes, walk away so if it opens, no one will hear me.
Learn - to recognize jealousy and envy and ask God to help me with my heart. Unlearn - lashing out because I don't have what someone else does.
Learn - pride really does come before a big fall so I better wear a helmet if I'm going to keep it up. Unlearn - the universe is not named "Shannon" and everyone is going through something. Just love on them already and then the helmet is not needed.

I am happy to report, I no longer try to rip my face off with my fingernails (well, at least not very often). I no longer think my self worth is nothing and I try really really hard to avoid dodge ball.
I am not able to do this by pinning a zillion personal affirmations from Pinterest, although I do think I am a little awesome and ya know - God thinks so too.
It is not made possible in watching every episode of Oprah although I wouldn't mind attending her "Favorite Things" episode. That would maybe help. For a bit.
I am not following instructions from Dr. Phil, or Dr. Spock, or Dr. Anyone.
And while exercising certainly makes me feel better about how I look in my jeans and yes, my insides flow along a calmer river, I cannot run 24 hours a day. (Nor would i want to)

What has given me back my life? What has left me a hammer and nails and some 4x4's that aren't all dinged up and termite ridden? What is telling me how to rebuild a life that I tore down a long time ago?
It's not a mystery and is so simple I am sure for the self-proclaimed intelligent and perspicacious, there may be some eye-rolling and nose snorting.
but guess what?

I really don't care.

This is what has worked for me. And for countless others.
It is honest. And truth. And mercy. And grace. And life. And it is page after page of love in its purest form.

The bible. My happy ending. Under construction.
Right now.
and forever.