I need a Hero by Chris Rice

It wasn't an accident that I named my son Hero... 

nor was it a moment of me trying to be weird or quirky...

 I heard this song in 1997 and I've loved the word "Hero" ever since... 

when I met Heath, I knew him by his nickname "Hero" for a long time. 

and I named Hero after his daddy...

this seems fitting tonight... 

I need a Hero...  by Chris Rice

Was I the only one to notice
That human nature doesn't work that way
They tell me if I look deep inside me
That I can find my own way
I only find a rebel and a fool there
Who won't admit that he's afraid
I thought I was holdin' on to freedom
But locked my soul up in chains
I need a hero
Who'll dare to find me
Fly to my rescue
And crash through the wall
Announce my freedom
Bring me to my senses
Gather me into His strong arms
And carry me off...to safety
What is this talk about a Savior

Well does He listen, is He ever there?
And should I be asking Him directly?
But why should He consider my prayer?
Well, I don't quite know how to do this
But Jesus, I can't save myself
So here I go calling our for mercy
And crying out for Your help
(So if You hear me...)
I need a hero
Please dare to find me
Fly to my rescue
And crash through the wall
Announce my freedom
Bring me to my senses
Gather me into Your strong arms
And carry me off

God's Rebuttal

Hurricane Season was extended for me this year.  Since mid-January, the rug's been pulled out from under me several different ways... and my post last night was all about the nickname I've given myself: "Much-Afraid."

This morning I woke up rebuking myself for what a coward I am acting like... this isn't like me at all... At least not the "me" that I want to be!  and when I read my Bible this morning, this is the verse: 2 Chronicles 20:15 --... Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not your, but God's....
So here is what I love about God...
Me:  whiny, whiny, whiny baby
God:  okay, if you have forgotten all that I've taught you... here are some friendly reminders...
Me:  whine, whine, whine... obsess, obsess, obsess, worry, worry, worry, scared, scared, scared...
God: *fire from Heaven*

I'll stop talking in metaphors... so I woke up saying to myself, "Buffy, you are not this coward anymore!  So stop being afraid of all this stuff God has already given you victory over!"  I went to my first school and was confronted with a gaggle of rabble-rousers and one person in tears.  This lady cried and cried and cried because she was afraid... it seemed like the more we tried to comfort her, the more she cried.  And after a while, I realized that what I was saying wasn't making a dent, so I walked away... but with the thought that this is what I may look like to God... He's been sending people my way and I've rejected them in my fear.

So when I got home from work, I could just already see God's hand in motion to work things out so that I could go to Eminent Worship tonight at Golden Acres Church in Phenix City.  Hero was having his nightly "I don't want to go to bed" crash party early... and he went down relatively easy.  Before I was out of my driveway, I was already praying and crying... when I entered the sanctuary, I was trying to hold it together... Then I looked in front of me: two sisters from my home church... then as the music started, another sister came up beside me...  With every pounding beat of drums, I could feel God chiseling away at the calcification of bitterness and fear around my heart.... and what happened after that... I can only say it was all ordered by God... Praying with my sister-girls was amazing and so encouraging... and then just to worship and sing and tell the enemy that he's a liar... just what the doctor ordered...

So the moral of this story, boys and girls, is that God is a mindful God... and He is faithful to meet us where we are at... and demonstrate His goodness and might... for the one-hundred-thousandth time...

Much-Afraid

It's seems that my quest to become WHOLE in HIM is taking quite a bit of breaking of this old pottery...

Fear is something that I grew up with... lots of fear in lots of different ways.  I don't blame my mother or my father really.  It's just the way my dad was for a variety of reasons, so it was something I grew up with.  Circumstances made my mom scared... being alone at home at night while my dad worked off-shore... in a trailer park...

 

So when Keith introduced this year's theme of "Breaking Through and Breaking Out,"  I was excited... for my immediate family, it's meant the death of some family curses... and a continue battle for some others.  Now that half of the year is here so soon, I realize that I am still struggling with fear... I'm not quite sure about what to do about being afraid of these situations.... except keep looking to Him and worshiping Him until I am given more of a revelation ... or more strength...about these situations... a magic wand would even do.

 

But on the whole, I'm not nearly as afraid as I used to be... I had a friend comment one Sunday after I sang on the worship team how fearless Heath and I seem to be!  I was taken aback... I confessed to her: "I struggle with fear all the time."  So many times in my life, I have to take a deep breath and close my eyes and metaphorically jump into a situation. 

 

During a time in my life, when I was nose to nose with a fear of mine, I found a way to fight back through worshiping God in song.  I kept a worship CD in my CD player and just kept singing and singing and singing.  And when the enemy would try to whisper something in my ear, I just kept singing and singing and singing.

I guess I need to do this on an hourly basis until it becomes a habit for me... because the revelation for today, boys and girls, is that this Southern Girl is still afraid...

 

Tonight in community group as we discussed Book 1 of Mere Christianity, I confessed that I am struggling with fear.  A foe I thought had been defeated has come back for round 2.  And as we talked about what we wish Christianity and Church could be and about that we wished we could do to be "better" Christians, I still felt afraid and helpless.

So I have sat here staring at this blinking cursor and digging through some notes to start and stop this post about a dozen times.  Remembering these terribly fearful moments and how I felt the Lord nearer to me through worshiping Him... and Scriptures about fear and peace... and the fruits of the Spirit and the armor of God...

And then I remembered a poem I had read a long time ago:

"People are often unreasonable and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.
If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.
If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.
The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway.
For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway."
— Mother Teresa
So like Much Afraid, while I am afraid and trembling and not sure where is journey is taking me... I'm going to put one foot in front of another...

after all, He never promised us an easy ride... only that He'd be with us along the way. 

The Man in the Bread Aisle -or- God of the Unlovable

This past Friday did not go as planned... as most Fridays and Saturdays do not go as planned... but I had a lot to do on Friday... and it's was not getting done...  I was been uncharacteristically late to everything and every where and I loathed myself for it... but as I left the first place that I was late for, the people I left behind were grinning ear to ear because of my son Hero and begging us to come again.

Then we were late to getting to Publix... and Hero wanted that big stupid cart with the race car attached to it.  And I slid through the store pushing it around.  As I stood comparing the sugar count on the Snapples, Hero asked me what a product was.  "It's a doo-a-mah-hitchi to help someone open their Coke bottle."  I sensed the person behind me was picking up on our conversation... my flight or fight instinct urged me to fly... but someOne kept me there.  He turned to my son and said, "see you've got your momma there to open sodas for ya... even my momma used to ask me to open her Cokes for her."  He stepped a little too close for my comfort zone and his shirt was awfully dirty.  He wore a shirt that alarmed me to his extreme-right political views and the stains told me that the shirt had not been washed in a while.  "I sure do miss my momma... she used to aggravate me about every little thing.... Boy, I wish that she was still around to aggravate me..."  My heart hurt for him, "I know that must be hard for you..."  I didn't know what else to say.  He turned back to muttering at the bread.  "Have a good day," I called as we walked away. 

If I were a better Christian, I would have stopped and prayed with him... but I'm not and I didn't.. and I'm left wondering about the Man in the Bread Aisle.  But what I realized was that maybe God put me in that spot at that moment so that man could get a smile from Hero.  But what really came through was the reminder that God loves that man, muttering to the bread and all...  This was a realization that came to me while I was pondering/praying/whining about how these two women that I know could walk so closely with the Lord... what was their secret?  I mean, when they touched me, I could feel sparks fly from their fingertips and this peace blanket envelope me with their hugs... and as I prayed/whined about how God had put me in the most unlovely and unlovable situation, He gently reminded me that He loved the most unlovable and that was the secret to these women's awesomeness...  So my confession would be that it's easy for me to love those kids and adults that are considered to be delayed or have special needs... the Lord put a call on my life to serve them.  But it's hard for me to love those "normal" people who want to show me up or act better than me or treat me bad or expect me to be what I'm not (I was recently called "preacher's wife"... huh?)...  I've encountered so many "mean girls" lately... my introvert wants me to retreat. 

So it wasn't a coincidence that my pastor spoke on 1 Corinthians 13 for the third week in a row, nor was it a coincidence that he said, "The story of the Prodigal Son should be renamed the story of the Loving Father."  He spent time describing the father's love for his foolish son and how God the Father loves us like that.  And driving home today, while I was silently praying that the person driving stupid behind me wouldn't ram me from behind because she was an angry redneck, the Lord gently reminded me that He loved her and that we love because He first loved us... that I don't have to conjure the love for these people who try to constantly beat me down... that it's already there because He first loved me...

May we be more apt to love those around us that we deem "unlovable"... May we recognize that because He loved us first, we are able to love other people around us... even the unlovable...

Buffy: The Musical

What would my life look like if Universal Studios made it into a movie?

When I was 16 years old, my friend died in a car accident.  My life changed in a hundred different ways.  I refused to drive a car.  I retreated from all my friends.  And I swore that, since I now knew how short life could be, that I would make sure that every day I did something to make a difference in this world.  Many years, medications, counseling sessions and divine interventions from the Lord, I now drive, I work to confront the problems around me... but I still swear to myself every day that I will make a difference in this world.

And I'm not fishing for compliments when I say that... It's just something that I feel passionate about... it's part of my personal theology... that a way to honor and glorify God is to make a difference for Him... to be His hands and feet... to comfort those who are hurting...

So I saw The King's Speech this week because one of the main characters is a speech therapist, like me.  (Apart from the cursing) I was inspired and encouraged as I watched Logue face challenges like I do with clients.

But I did start to think: what would my life look like as a movie?  Would it be a serious drama like "The King's Speech"?  Where the main characters are triumphant over the challenges they face?
Would it be a comedy? Like an Adam Sandler comedy?  Pointless, but good entertainment along the way.
Would it be an epic?  Like The Lord of the Rings trilogy?  
Or would it be a musical like "My Fair Lady" (which is also based on a pioneer in the field of Speech-Language Pathology: Henry Sweet)?  Where the main character learns some valuable lesson while feeling superior to those he is helping... that he's really the one helped out in the end? 

I'm not looking for answers, really... only to facilitate some thinking... that if we lived our lives in such a way that it might be made into a movie one day... would we do anything different?  If we lived in such a way that every little thing we do is to glorify God, how would it be different?

cat on a hot tin roof

So tonight's post isn't about me trying to be a better Christian, but trying to be a whole Christian... I am on a path towards WHOLE-i-ness...

And this weekend marks an anniversary for me of an event that broke me and shattered me into a million little pieces.  A few weeks ago, Keith (my pastor) remarked that some events in our lives (divorce, namely) amputates a family, and indeed, the events of this weekend so long ago, left me practically quartered.  But unlike mythical creatures that can regenerate body parts, my spiritual body did not regenerate quite so easily...  Much to the chagrin of fellow Christians...  A magic pill alluded me for many years and people's disappointment at my lack of healing just sent me further down the rabbit hole.  Scriptures and cliches were thrown at me with the hopes that something would stick, but my depression and despair deflected the words.  I was too young to have the coping mechanism to grieve gracefully and I was bleeding out spiritually.

Eleven (yes, I am ashamed to say that even eleven long years doesn't numb the pain)- Eleven years ago, my life was turned on its ear.  I sit here, alone, with old movies playing on my television in the background and I am no longer afraid to feel the pain of the loss all over again.  It's at least bearable.  I don't know that the pain will ever go away... mostly the pain is over the things that can never be.  Most days I can keep a flat affect and shrug my shoulders over it, but I won't make myself tonight.  I've got a feeling that many feel pain over these holidays... and we work really hard to put a smile on our faces and bite back the tears.  But I'll share that I can't ever be "over" it.  I'll always miss him and I'll always love him, regardless of how badly he hurt me and despite what others think that I feel over the matter.  Is this what true forgiveness feels like?  Well, that, for sure, is a theological debate that I can't wrestle with tonight.

It took me a long time to be at peace with the situation the way it is... it was a long process and the Lord was very patient with me during this time.  He sent many wonderful people to love me and give me some perspective.  And He gave me the strength to stand up for myself in a graceful way.

In recent years, while I allow myself to feel this pain and raise a metaphorical glass to what was and what will never be, I have come to a place where the Lord has taken these painful moments and turned them into moments to celebrate.  The dichotomy is hard to swallow, but I do think it is important to be thankful for all the things that I do have... and that for a moment in time, I thought I wouldn't be allowed to celebrate Mother's Day as a mother... for a moment in my life, I thought I'd never have a husband whose birthday I would get to celebrate.  And for this year, I get to do both all in one day as well as celebrate my own wonderful mother... is this what "joy comes in the morning" (Psalm 30:5) means?  "Though He slays me, yet will I hope in Him..." (Job 13: 15)???


"Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.  You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies.  You anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.  Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." - Psalm 23: 4-6

So for you reading this, take heart.  I do not pause to gloat... I pause to celebrate with the prayer that the Lord will show Himself to you like He has shown Himself to me... to thank Him for not leaving me in the mud and mire... "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those crushed in spirit." - Psalm 34: 18

"Praise be to the Lord, for He showed His wonderful love to me when I was in a besieged city.  In my alarm I said, 'I am cut off from Your sight!'  Yet You heard my cry for mercy when I called to You for help." - Psalm 31: 21-22

All of this reminds me of a scene from "Cat on a Hot Tin Roof," during which Brick is taunting his wife Maggie and continues in his attempts to push her away.  He said to her, "What is the victory of a cat on a hot tin roof?"  and she says, "Just staying on it, I guess, long as she can."  Sometimes we just have to hang on...


May you, brokenhearted beloved, find Him in your pain... find the strength to hang on... may you feel His loving arms wrap around you... may you feel Him bind your wounds and give you a reason to sing His praises...

faulty gods

So two Facebook posts today spurred this post tonight...  Recent events cause me to sit back and consult Scriptures more.  While I have been through more tragic events then what I've been dealing with in the past few months, I am forced to return to lessons I learned during those difficult times.

Lesson One:  during the weeks after I lost my first pregnancy to a miscarriage, Heath and I had many, many theological debates on the practice of praying for God's will and then expecting our desires to be carried out.  And about how giving ourselves up to God's design was so very difficult at that moment.  During one of our tirades, Heath looked at me and said, "but you know it's not that we serve a faulty god, it's that our theology is faulty..."  Well, that stopped me in my tracks and made all the horrible things that people said to me kind of make sense as to why they felt the license to be so bold and so wrong all at the same time.

Lesson Two:  this one, I've just kinda recently touched upon (and ties in to Lesson One)... but I was reminded of it tonight... My "I'm just a sign post" saying... which has given me more freedom to serve Him recently.  Despite my mistakes, my issues, my generational curses, my insecurities, my second-guessing, He doesn't change... hasn't changed... and He won't change.  He is who He said He was and He does not need me to be perfect to make Him any more than what He already is...