I often wonder what it would be like to recieve a letter from God...
"Dear Aimee
I love you so much and I am so pleased with your desire to know me and love all who is in my family. Keep up the good work...and we still have a lot to do. We will do it together. We need to work on our time together (I love spending time with you, let's do it more). Remember to be patient and keep that tongue in check, girl. You have a temper but you have the biggest capacity to love. I know because I gave it to you. Haha!
Here are the things you have asked for: a growing thriving ministry, support and love from your church family and the oppurtunity to love more. By the way you will need help reaching teenagers with special needs, so I am sending you a special ed high school teacher. You didn't ask for it, but I know what you need. When you need something more, you just have to ask. I will bring it or I won't. When you think I don't answer a prayer, it's because I have a plan that you don't understand. Trust me, my strength is bigger than your imagination.
Just to let you know, I will be there the whole way with you. You are not alone. You never will be my little chickadee! I love you my friend.
Love your God"
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
How my heart started to mend...
As a teenager, I was an angry little brat. I admit this openly and with shame. I was so lost. I was mad at the world, my family and especially my God. Truthfully, at the time I didn't even want to acknowledge him.
At the time, I was watching my family fall apart, watching my brother lose his mind and find comfort in drugs and alcohol. I hated my own skin and who I was. I hid in books and food and denied God access to my heart. My closet was full of junky clothes without color, a wanna be grunge rocker, my clothes frequently had holes and smelled. Lots of grey flannel and occasional neon orange hair was the shell to my true heart which was cracking and breaking. I pushed everyone away and hid as deep as I could.
It was years later, when I was living in Iowa that my heart began to break from that shell. I had a visit from my mom's best friend Carol. She showed up at my door with a box of food and the name of churches to try. We spent the weekend shopping at thrift stores (one of Carol's favorite hobbies) and tried a new church.
Carol was one of my Sunday school teachers and a woman who loves whole heartily and generously. Her friendship to my family was such a precious gift growing up. My brother and I called her 'Buddy' because she was so special, she also always called us her buddy. Many times, adults can fake caring for kids but not Carol. To know her is to know her love. She is one of those people who truly examples how Jesus calls us to love. That weekend, Carol simply loved as best as I would let her. She knocked and knocked at my heart and we had long conversations, many uncomfortable and challenging to the anger I had allowed to envelope me. As she left that weekend she told me "I will pray you stop being anger at God and let him love you."
Big old crack in my shell!
I wish I could tell you that my story was a simple turn right that moment and I stopped being angry at God but it wasn't that easy. Anger can be so consuming when you live it for so many years. It was a slow process to allow God back into my life. I know now I was angry at the one who could take all my anger and never leave me or stop loving me. He is passionate for me and used so many moments in my life to chip away at my shell.
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[m] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39
The only thing that separated me from God was me. I chose to allow my anger to be a door between my heart and the greatest love I will ever know. I wish I could say right now I will never be angry at God again but I can't. I know anger is this disease which can creep back. I pray regularly that I seek him and cling to him, that I sing his praises and I love like his son. I still have so many challenges and adventures to come. I thank God for Carol and many more who loved me in spite of me and saw past my shell. I thank God for mending my heart and leading me home.
Because you've always stood up for me,
I'm free to run and play.
I hold on to you for dear life,
and you hold me steady as a post.
Psalm 63:7-8
At the time, I was watching my family fall apart, watching my brother lose his mind and find comfort in drugs and alcohol. I hated my own skin and who I was. I hid in books and food and denied God access to my heart. My closet was full of junky clothes without color, a wanna be grunge rocker, my clothes frequently had holes and smelled. Lots of grey flannel and occasional neon orange hair was the shell to my true heart which was cracking and breaking. I pushed everyone away and hid as deep as I could.
It was years later, when I was living in Iowa that my heart began to break from that shell. I had a visit from my mom's best friend Carol. She showed up at my door with a box of food and the name of churches to try. We spent the weekend shopping at thrift stores (one of Carol's favorite hobbies) and tried a new church.
Carol was one of my Sunday school teachers and a woman who loves whole heartily and generously. Her friendship to my family was such a precious gift growing up. My brother and I called her 'Buddy' because she was so special, she also always called us her buddy. Many times, adults can fake caring for kids but not Carol. To know her is to know her love. She is one of those people who truly examples how Jesus calls us to love. That weekend, Carol simply loved as best as I would let her. She knocked and knocked at my heart and we had long conversations, many uncomfortable and challenging to the anger I had allowed to envelope me. As she left that weekend she told me "I will pray you stop being anger at God and let him love you."
Big old crack in my shell!
I wish I could tell you that my story was a simple turn right that moment and I stopped being angry at God but it wasn't that easy. Anger can be so consuming when you live it for so many years. It was a slow process to allow God back into my life. I know now I was angry at the one who could take all my anger and never leave me or stop loving me. He is passionate for me and used so many moments in my life to chip away at my shell.
For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[m] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:38-39
The only thing that separated me from God was me. I chose to allow my anger to be a door between my heart and the greatest love I will ever know. I wish I could say right now I will never be angry at God again but I can't. I know anger is this disease which can creep back. I pray regularly that I seek him and cling to him, that I sing his praises and I love like his son. I still have so many challenges and adventures to come. I thank God for Carol and many more who loved me in spite of me and saw past my shell. I thank God for mending my heart and leading me home.
Because you've always stood up for me,
I'm free to run and play.
I hold on to you for dear life,
and you hold me steady as a post.
Psalm 63:7-8
Saturday, March 20, 2010
Do over!
Don't you remember your childhood games? You always wanted to call a do-over or a thousand do-overs when you would mess up. I always did...I was a huge clutz (still am). Your friends wouldn't let you but when you were playing with your dad, he would always say "ok just one more time". Well here we go...
I call a do over to blogging. I tried it, thought I failed and gave up. But I think it must be something you must practice at. So I will try again. I don't have to be great. I have read some great blogs...Rosemary Jones...you rock my heart. I just have to be me. I always think I don't know the answer to that question but I am learning that's really not the answer. The truth of the matter is I am in motion, permant motion, perpetual (I just learned to spell that) motion to the arms of the creater of the moon and the stars and boogers (I think they are amazing in a gross kind of way and they tell us so much about a person). He is my friend, my champion, my teacher and my savior.
One of my favorite images that the Lord has given me was when I was first a believer doing a bible study at my dinning room table. I had books and dishes and stuff stashed around me (I can be a clutter queen). I was sitting in one of my most amazing dinning room chairs, they are these 1950s green vinyl wooden chairs, I found them on the side of the road and literally did a u-turn in the middle of the road to go back and get them. Then had to talk my mom into coming and picking them up because they didn't fit in the back of my little Ford Focus. I love these chairs, they are comfortable and I kind of settle into them and can stay there for hours. Add an extra pillow and hot cup of tea and it's about as close to prefection as I can get, even better if I am in thralled with a good book. I was all alone, doing some study, I can't even remember what one and I am in my chair and my feet are up on the chair next to me. I look across the table and I see Jesus, sitting there too. Just watching me, smiling, his foot propped up on the chair too, just relaxing with me. It brings tears to my eyes, the savior of mankind cares enough about me to sit and watch while I learn about him.
In that moment I knew that I would never be alone. My life may be one big do-over (starting for a hundred tomorrows) but my heavenly Father will always be there to say "ok one more time." So here goes. Nobody might read this but maybe my mom and that's ok. It's my voice and my story and it's perpetually in motion or occasionally sitting at the dinning room table with Jesus!
I call a do over to blogging. I tried it, thought I failed and gave up. But I think it must be something you must practice at. So I will try again. I don't have to be great. I have read some great blogs...Rosemary Jones...you rock my heart. I just have to be me. I always think I don't know the answer to that question but I am learning that's really not the answer. The truth of the matter is I am in motion, permant motion, perpetual (I just learned to spell that) motion to the arms of the creater of the moon and the stars and boogers (I think they are amazing in a gross kind of way and they tell us so much about a person). He is my friend, my champion, my teacher and my savior.
One of my favorite images that the Lord has given me was when I was first a believer doing a bible study at my dinning room table. I had books and dishes and stuff stashed around me (I can be a clutter queen). I was sitting in one of my most amazing dinning room chairs, they are these 1950s green vinyl wooden chairs, I found them on the side of the road and literally did a u-turn in the middle of the road to go back and get them. Then had to talk my mom into coming and picking them up because they didn't fit in the back of my little Ford Focus. I love these chairs, they are comfortable and I kind of settle into them and can stay there for hours. Add an extra pillow and hot cup of tea and it's about as close to prefection as I can get, even better if I am in thralled with a good book. I was all alone, doing some study, I can't even remember what one and I am in my chair and my feet are up on the chair next to me. I look across the table and I see Jesus, sitting there too. Just watching me, smiling, his foot propped up on the chair too, just relaxing with me. It brings tears to my eyes, the savior of mankind cares enough about me to sit and watch while I learn about him.
In that moment I knew that I would never be alone. My life may be one big do-over (starting for a hundred tomorrows) but my heavenly Father will always be there to say "ok one more time." So here goes. Nobody might read this but maybe my mom and that's ok. It's my voice and my story and it's perpetually in motion or occasionally sitting at the dinning room table with Jesus!
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