I held the hand of a pedophile.........

I walked out the door for the last time.  1 year, 710 hours and 100's of clients later, the curtain had closed at my internship.
(to hear this video you will have to scroll to bottom of page and pause music on the player)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GSv-lKwOQvE

It had happened slowly and subtle...the desensitization to the poor and addicted, living in white privilege ignorance, and the steeling of my heart and mind against mental illness as if bipolar disorder or depression could be caught as easily as a common cold.  The world I operated in wasn't bad, actually it was pretty good.  I had invested my life in college students and staff with CRU, but had created a bubble in which I had become encapsulated.  The poor and oppressed did not exist in my world apart from the occasional gift to Show Hope or praying for Uganda. I didn't really know anyone in my circle dealing with addiction. The bubble needed to be pricked and pricked it was. You wanna find Jesus? Find hurting people.  He is there.

* I walked around in a state of shock for about the first six months.  People really lose their children over drugs?  Women are raped and due to the oppression they do not report it?  Clients and their children have no food, yet I have a casserole in my fridge that would feed 5 and yet due to ethics codes I can not share?  What do you mean you don't have a place to sleep? How come your son and brothers get pulled over every time they pass a cop and I don't?  So you are telling me that you want to get clean but have no support?  I'm so sorry your husband beats your daughter. Do you think you could walk to the end of your driveway today so you can work on leaving your house without a panic attack? Is your voice being heard?  What does God think of you? I see you.  I see you long for connection, yet struggle so deeply with it.

Jesus, come.

The unveiling the face to see who is in front of us is a priceless and sacred gift.  The invitation to "with"ness is irreplaceable.   Recently a dear friend of mine suffered a heartbreaking miscarriage.  A mutual friend referred to sitting shiva during a time of mourning.  Shiva is part of the Jewish custom of mourning. It is a 7 day period after a loss in which the family members are directly present.
" Loss of someone that is a direct relative often produces great grief, where even if you tried you could get very little done. To honor this, direct-family mourners do not try to get anything done. They do not bathe, work, engage in pleasurable activities, or try to distract themselves with anything. Focus is on feeling the pain and grief of losing someone." - taken from http://www.wisegeek.com/what-does-sitting-shiva-mean.htm

If anything, I have learned as my friend Rachel says, "to sit shiva" with hurting people who I once was desensitized to.....Thank you, Jesus.

At the end of every group session we always stand in a circle, hold hands and say the serenity prayer.  "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.  The courage to change the things I can and the wisdom to know the difference.  (and we add) Just for today."   And perhaps the most pivotal moment for me was the realization that I was holding hands with a pedophile in desperate need of my attention and presence.  Only Jesus.  To HIM be all the glory.  My heart is full.

The Well

"Disappointment drags us back to the well." - Paula Rinehart

It is Ash Wednesday (http://www.rzim.org/usa/usfv/tabid/436/articleid/10512/cbmoduleid/1133/default.aspx for an explanation).  Today begins the season of Lent. Grief and sorrow. Repentance. Longing. Resurrection.  Emmanuel, God WITH us.

Here is an excerpt from John 4 when Jesus is resting at the well and a Samaritan woman comes to draw water:

¹³ Jesus replied, “Anyone who drinks this water will soon become thirsty again. ¹⁴ But those who drink the water I give will never be thirsty again. It becomes a fresh, bubbling spring within them, giving them eternal life.”¹⁵ “Please, sir,” the woman said, “give me this water! Then I’ll never be thirsty again, and I won’t have to come here to get water.”

Last night as I read the quote from Paula Rinehart, "Disappointment drags us back to the well", brought me to a time of repentance.  Why must it take disappointment to keep me aware of my craving for living water? The source of life?  Moment by moment we are given a beautiful gift to respond to Jesus with gratitude and trust.  MOMENT BY MOMENT, not  just event to event.  Verse 15 struck me differently today.  I thought about how I want something to satisfy my thirst so I do not have to keep returning to the well, but the fact is that I truly don't ever want to leave the well - this is where we can be with Jesus, resting in His presence, fully disclosing our hearts, laments, and praise.  I love his invitation to this woman who was so thirsty.  He told her everything about herself and she was changed.  To know that we are loved is such a gift for such a sorrowful season.  Weeping may last for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

Brave

  

Many of you have heard about the horrors of human trafficking, the sexual abuse at Penn State, rape, and sadly, the list could go on.  Currently I am in a class called, "Theodicy and Trauma". Theodicy is about grappling with the hard questions and understanding God's goodness in the midst of such evil that is all around us. In the late 1800's, many women were given a label of "hysteria" (what we would now diagnose as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) and in an effort to try and understand what contributed to this "hysteria", Freud and a few others in the field decided they were going to talk to the women (thus emerged the talking cure) to try and find out if there were commonalities that could somehow explain the cause of said illness.  The results were widespread across Europe and there were indeed commonalities.  Freud published his findings stating that the cause of women's hysteria was in fact trauma such as sexual abuse and rape.  Freud was ostracized by colleagues for what he published and he found himself feeling very isolated and thus recanted his research.  It was hard for the researchers to grasp what they had found........for the researchers to stand by what they discovered would have meant they had to acknowledge how widespread (even in the 1880's) that sexual abuse and rape was.  In a patriarchal society, that was very difficult.

Fast forward 140 years or so to this past December. I attend the yearly Christian conference with 1,000 college students and we heard hear wrenching stories of trafficking and abuse.  This particular day had been so very heavy and I had not left the hotel in a few days.  I found myself driving to go pick up dinner and just crying and beating my steering wheel over the hay day that the Enemy was having......and I got angry. Very angry.  My tears dried and I asked God to help break through here and could he just speak to me on this topic.  I was driving by a movie marquee (I know, bare with me) and 2 titles flashed by.  The first was, "War Horse" and the 2nd was, "The Darkest Hour."  I said out loud, "That's it!! That is for me, isn't it Lord?"  I got this picture of riding on this horse INTO the battle, not away from it and riding into what I see as the darkest hour of peoples lives.  I know that may sound weird to you Presbyterians, and I must say I am somewhat Presbyterian in my theology, but I do believe that God encourages and speaks to me in these pictures.  Not the same as Scripture, but just in line with it.  I often do not think in words, but in pictures.  Paul talks about how it was as if he was in the pains of childbirth until Christ was formed in the Galatians....he had vision for them...he wanted them to KNOW Christ more....and he spoke that to them.  How encouraging would that picture be to have from Paul?  Anyway, I say all this because I do not believe in going to battle alone.  Would you get mad at the Enemy as well?  Would you ride your own War Horse with me into the Darkest Hour?

That very same day in December, my sister/cousin Ami who lives in Texas texted me about a picture she had seen of me.  It was of me in this cape going into the woods to fight the enemy and see people freed.  So, you can imagine how I responded today when she emailed me this link with a message saying this was for both of us.  I share it with you now because it is in fact for many of you. What does the name "Merida" mean?  "Ambitious, brave, creative, desirable, fresh, mature, unassuming, spontaneous, thriving, sensitive"  This is the title character in an upcoming Disney Pixar movie entitled BRAVE. So, watch and then go find your horse, take up your bow and let's go riding.

(You'll have to pause the player at the bottom of the page)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tYg0VgPy6Uk&feature=youtube_gdata_player

Gonna Party Like It's Yo Birfday

So here I sit on the eve of my 23rd (cough, cough) birthday and I thought I would share some deep insights with you. :)

I love parties. I LOVE PARTIES. Love them. The first one I remember was when I was five or six and it was at McDonald's.  Just for the record, have any of you seen that nasty picture floating around out there about how chicken mcnugget's are made?

Gross, right?  Curse you Ronald McDonald.

I remember the party well.  Well, at least the tour part.  Watching how the machine squirted out mustard and ketchup was pretty fascinating.  Although years later during my two week stint working at Wendy's, that little lesson did not serve me well.  I digress.  Anyway, that was my first memory of a party.

When I turned 13 my mom had a surprise party for me.  Sadly, I knew about the party seeing as how I found an invitation in her bible.  My BF Anne and I planned our outfits and dreamt about this first boy/girl party. That week leading up to the party would be the longest of my life. Finally, the night came and I pulled out my best half-white/half-stonewashed jeans out and tried to act unassuming.  If you don't know me, I'm very subtle and poker-faced.  At the time, I also resembled Napoleon Dynamite. I was quite the attractive middle-schooler.

So I walked in after having had to go with a family member to get ice and "Surprise!!"  Such fun.  I spent the evening for once not feeling awkward and dancing away with friends as we watched videos of New Kids on the Block (oh yeah!).  What happened next somehow became a defining moment in my life that had too much power for way too long.  I was talking about how cute Joey from NKOTB was when someone said, "I don't know why you would say that because he would never look at someone like you."  Something happened inside me that night that felt like death.  Years later I realized how words can bring life and words can bring death.  In that moment I wish I had laughed it off, but I chose to store it in my heart and allow it to become a truth that would be the thorn in my flesh for years to come.  This person had only stated what I feared to be true of myself and somehow made my suspicion fact.

I believe this was the last time I would ever be excited about a party for me.  Year after year as I celebrated in different ways, I never fully embrace my birthday.  My family was amazing and friends in college really made each year hilarious.  For my 21st birthday, my girl friends had 21 different guys hand me flowers as I walked into dinner.  They celebrated me and it was so much fun, but inside I always thought that maybe they were all just being nice.  After college when I joined staff and was away from home, staff teams and friends would celebrate me and I would wonder if they were just being nice and felt obligated.

The past six years I haven't really wanted to celebrate, due to not wanting anyone to feel "obligated" to come.  Which leads me to the journey I have been on the past year, almost to the day.  Jesus said, "Beth, let's deal with some of this stuff.  This insecurity.  This wound that you have chosen to respond to in an unholy and unhealthy way for years."  Oh my goodness has it been terrifying.  I have and continue to look at these areas of vulnerability and wonder if redemption and healing will ever fully come.  I know it will, but sometimes healing is quick, but more often than not healing is slow and painful and happens in stages. Why? Because I think we need to remember that the process of the healing is just, if not more important than the actual end result.  I wanted to write this blog tonight and tell you about how I have arrived.....tie up this journey with a nice, pretty little bow and then give you three steps for how you too can find healing.  Nope. Here I am to say that on the eve of another birthday, that I am still a mess, but a loved mess and a joy-filled mess and how overcome I have been with HIS kindness this week.  I decided back in November that I wanted to live a better story.  One with courage and joy and one that would require risk and while it may not seem like a big deal to you as a reader, I decided that I wanted to celebrate my birthday.  I had an 80's skating party on Sunday and I didn't know if anyone would come.  I knew my family and a handful of friends would come, but would people feel obligated?  It was that same old wound festering it's ugly head, only this time I got mad and decided to face my fear head on.  Well, even though 20 or so people couldn't make it last minute, over 60 did.  I don't think 60 people felt obligated.  I think they had fun and I had fun and I think my world expanded a little and I felt a little more brave and a little piece of me was healed.

So as I sit here with an 1 1/2 hours before I turn 23 (eye-roll), would you pray for me?  Would you pray I would continue to be brave? That I would continue to grow in my joy and hope in the Lord?  And would you do something for me?  Would you choose to be brave in an area of your life where you have operated out of fear for far too long?  That would be the greatest birthday gift you could give me.   I love you all! Thanks for journeying with me and for caring.

Beth

O Holy Night

Over 400 years had passed since the last words of the prophets had been spoken. No new revelation had been given. Waiting. Watching. Hoping.  When would Messiah come?  Do you think their hope began to wane?  Do you think they questioned whether He would ever come?  Do you think their longing turned to hopelessness or a bitter, questioning heart?  When hope seems elusive, our hearts can despair.  However, imagine a stable, a manger, a baby, our Savior.  I wonder if on the night Messiah was born, the world felt something shift.  The One who would arrive would bring Hope, because Hope is not in things, dreams, wants, and others, HOPE is a Person, the person of Jesus. I encourage you to take a minute and reflect and listen to my favorite Christmas song, O Holy Night and think about the significance of that quiet night in Bethlehem when Hope came in the form of a baby.

O Holy Night! The stars are brightly shining, 
It is the night of the dear Saviour's birth. 
Long lay the world in sin and error pining. 
Till He appeared and the Soul felt its worth. 
A thrill of hope the weary world rejoices, 
For yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. 
Fall on your knees! Oh, hear the angel voices! 
O night divine, the night when Christ was born; ! 

Led by the light of faith serenely beaming, 
With glowing hearts by His cradle we stand. 
O'er the world a star is sweetly gleaming, 
Now come the wisemen from out of the Orient land. 
The King of kings lay thus lowly manger; 
In all our trials born to be our friends. 
He knows our need, our weakness is no stranger, 

Truly He taught us to love one another, 
His law is love and His gospel is peace. 
Chains he shall break, for the slave is our brother. 
And in his name all oppression shall cease. 
Sweet hymns of joy in grateful chorus raise we, 
With all our hearts we praise His holy name. 
Christ is the Lord! Then ever, ever praise we, 
His power and glory ever more proclaim! 
His power and glory ever more proclaim!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPwd26Y5drc

Something Strange in this Neighborhood

Many of you have heard me talk about the book one thousand gifts by Ann Voskamp. This book has now entered into my top two, right behind the thrilling titled, Shattered Dreams by (everyone say it with me now) Larry Crabb. When I first started reading this book back in February I was slightly annoyed. I was like, “Oh great, another book about being thankful.” I’m sure it is written by someone who’s most difficult challenge in life was that the tough economy had caused her family to be so financially strapped that they could only take 4 vacations instead of their normal 6. I wanted to hear from someone who was hurting and had disappointments that they talked about in PRESENT tense, not past tense with a big bow wrapped around it. I put the book down and picked it back up in May.


Something began to happen. At the start of my counseling internship, I read these very words, “Rejecting joy to stand in solidarity with the suffering doesn’t rescue the suffering. The converse does. The brave who focus on all things good and all things beautiful and all things true, even in the small, who give thanks for it and discover joy even in the here and now, they are the change agents who bring fullest Light to all the world.” – Ann Voskamp

Hmm….could she know something about suffering, longing to live freely, wanting chains to fall off of her weary and broken legs too? Was I actually reading a book that my heart longed to write? This phrase knocked the wind out of me when I read it and I want to challenge you to comment on it, “When did I stop seeing life as dessert?”

What happened to me? How did I get to this place of life losing some of its luster? How did I get caught up in monotony and the longing for a Pottery Barn life? Surely this is not the abundant life that Jesus spoke of. So what was Jesus’ invitation? What is Jesus’ invitation?

I have had to take an honest look at the depths of my heart and realize that I would never be happy with a life that did not include an incredible story, so what hold me back?

“Wherever you are, be all there. I have lived the runner, panting ahead in worry, pounding back regrets, terrified to live in the present, because here-time asks me to do the hardest of all: just open wide and receive.”

It is in the HERE AND NOW, in THIS MOMENT that God is….that God invites us to live fully alive to Him RIGHT NOW. In the mundane. In the waiting. In the learning. In the interactions with the addicts and desperate. But aren’t we all desperate? Some of us just hide it a little better than others. A beautiful Jesus invites us to a dance. A race. A walk. Sometimes a crawl. I have to choose thankfulness. Moment by moment. Day by day. Choosing thanks. This is not something that comes naturally to me. In fact, too often I want to cry about what I think I need or want, but He is extending an invitation to look at those moments and say, “Thank you that somehow this moment of utter sorrow is an invitation to press in to You.” It has been very difficult, but something is happening internally that I believe is good and I believe is 100% the spirit of God and His kindness. I long to be known as one with a grateful heart. A heart that sees life as dessert and an adventure with the Father. An invitation………

Mother Teresa can kick Sleeping Beauty's............

I have a confession.  I think Snow White is a weakling.  She ran around with dwarfs, didn't have any real girlfriends, and birds came and sat on her head when she sang.  The worst thing that happened to her was that she choked on a piece of apple.  And don't even get me started on Sleeping Beauty!  I will however throw a shout out to my girl Cinderella because at least she got her hands dirty and had a love for shoes. But I must admit, the whole concept of being a princess, wearing a tiara, and riding behind her prince on a white horse never really got to my heart.  I don't know if I am sad about that or glad.  Maybe a little bit more of a balance wouldn't be half-bad. 

I'm writing today because this powerful image has been rolling around in my head and heart for a couple of weeks now.  I was talking with a friend who was sharing with me that a few years ago his wife had been reading a popular book among Christian women that really focused on us being princesses.  I was laughing because he shared that his wife realized that she was getting a little agitated that she wasn't being treated like the princess that she was.  She soon realized what she was expecting and acknowledged it.  What is neat is that at the same time my friends wife was reading this book she was also reading the autobiography of Mother Teresa.  The suffering servant.  I won't go into lots of detail because I have encouraged my friend to have his wife write about what she realized when comparing the two books....I think she has a story to tell and that story isn't mine, but I will share a few thoughts as just the sharing of her experience was powerful to me.

You may not agree with everythign Mother Teresa stood for, but you cannot argue about how she laid down her life for the "least of these."  As my friend said to me, "She was a suffering servant."  She opened homes for orphanges, for those with HIV/Aids, leprosy, tuberculosis, and even hospice care where my friend Chris went and sat with those who were alone and dying.  Suffering servant.  I just keep thinking about how this is the Gospel, not my being in a castle far removed from suffering, but being IN IT WITH others.  If I have learned anything in the past five weeks of sitting with addicts and the mentally ill, it is this - we are not that different.  And while I want to wear a pretty dress, be pursued, and treated well, in my heart of hearts God has called us to be suffering servants.  This resonates deeply although it is not very popular.  It means saying "yes" to entering into the pain and yuck of your own life in order to enter the pain and yuck of someone else. To be the hands and feet of Jesus..........I can't even finish that sentence.

Don't hear me completely knocking the princess idea, because ofcourse there is some validity to it, but I think it is overdone and we don't teach one another the reality that this world will not treat you like a princess unless you are Kate Middleton and trust me, that will wear off as soon as she says something without thinking or decides to wear a cardigan from Target.  Anyway, we are suffering servants and if I have to be a princess then I want my own horse.