Being a Wounded Christian Who Isn’t Alone

I’ve been reading along with Joy’s journey in finding church and find myself contemplating everything we have experienced over the last few years away from organized religion. In the past few years I have reconsidered what church really is, what it’s supposed to be, and if we humans have the ability to be the Church that I read about in the New Testament. Yet, I find it incredibly unfair of me to have thoughts of what it’s “suppose to be”. Isn’t that just another form of trying to get a community to measure up? Isn’t that we’re all tired of in the first place? My Good Shepherd said we could rest, graze in the meadows, and drink water from the river of life. How is it that we know this yet continue to run a rat race that tires us out?

In the last few months we have been hanging out with a group here in Southern California. It’s been a refreshing change for us, because we never thought we’d find a place where we could kick our shoes off and rest in. Our hearts and souls longed for a place where our souls could drink in life with others.

water by sisterlisa, on Pix-O-Sphere
The founders (Jeremy and Carolee) of this little group have been to our home several times and we are enjoying our growing friendship with them.I’ll be honest and say that I didn’t think I would be able to have friendships the way I had before. I finally mustered up the courage to talk to Carolee about my struggle as I shared my musings of whether or not my friendship meter was broken. The depth of emotional and spiritual intimacy with previous friends had suffered great damage and I didn’t think I would be able to have that again.

The bottom line is fear. The fear of being trampled on again, but if we remain afraid of pain then aren’t we admitting to ourselves that we are weak in wisdom? Did we not learn wisdom from the last turmoil? Didn’t we gain some hindsight and do we walk in doubt that we can make wiser choices in upcoming friendships? Maybe it’s not so much that we think people will fail us, but rather that we think we will fail ourselves? Is it fair to Jeremy, Carolee, and everyone else in this group if we come into their community with our minds made up that someone there is going to stab us in the back? That can’t possibly be a good attitude to have if we’re genuinely trying to grow and nurture one another in faith and life.

I love the motto of the group, ‘God without the guilt’. What a relief! It’s a relief to hear an uplifting message each week. It’s always a message about how God is not looking to guilt us into a relationship with him. With this thought in mind, I pondered whether we (all those who are looking for a community of faith) are pre-guilting every fellowship we get in the fitting room with when we fear being hurt if we decide to stay. Are we coming to these communities with a ‘you are guilty until proved innocent’ motive?

My friend Amy posed a question on her Facebook wall about Christian communities and a friend of hers said this, “To have someone who weeps with you and rejoices with you is priceless.”

Isn’t this what it all comes down to? Can we, as a diverse Body, really weep and rejoice with one another no matter our differences, baggage, scars, or otherwise? Is the search for Church about trusting people with our hearts or trusting God with our hearts? Are we afraid of the people or are we really afraid that God will stand by and let us get hurt again?

Can’t we just jump in and take it a day at a time, by faith? The Body is a universal community of hurting people who hurt people. If we stumble our way into a community with bleeding wounds, we’re bound to splatter a bit of blood on someone’s white robe, if we fall over ourselves and bump into others, we’re bound to cause some bruises. Maybe we can just learn to weep and rejoice with others. That sounds like a good start to a community of hurting folks.

I’ll end with this today, we have a sister who is hurting. Deeply hurting. Lauren, of Sparkling Adventures, has lost her infant son this week in a tragic event in Australia. The media has not been kind and random trolls on the internet have been wickedly hurtful to her while she is grieving. As a community of sisters, can we offer her some real life tangible support? You can make a donation to help her and her daughters. Let’s weep together and do what we can to offer love and lots of prayer.

Being a wounded solider out on the field may make us feel like we’re all alone, but when we come together we quickly see that there are far more of us that are hurting too.

~Sisterlisa

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The Poetic Love in Tragedy

Our previous home is finally ready to show and is officially on the market. I can’t tell you how relieved I am! Ever since we moved, I have been having dreams of packing. It’s been as if my dream life was in limbo. Every night I have been dreaming that I am surrounded in boxes, packing, and cleaning. Maybe those dreams will stop when the house finally sells. I sure hope so. For ten years after graduating I kept dreaming about being late to class and doing dishes in my childhood home. I guess it takes a while for our brains to really catch up with where we are now. I’m praying mine catches up sooner than later, because part of my dreams involve the broken relationships from our previous community.

I want so much for my past to stay in the past. I battle the sadness that comes from dreaming about lost relationships and the ‘stab scars’ in my back. These dreams make it so much more difficult to really let things go. In my awake state, I push those thoughts aside so I can move forward. Then when I’m asleep they come back to haunt me. Oh Lord, please help my subconscious to get the memo the past needs to stay in the past!

Perhaps the sale of the house will help with some closure. (Will you please join me in prayer that the home sells quickly?)

People have long said, “forgive and forget”. The forgetting part is what is so difficult and I came to the conclusion that it is not practical to think we can forget. Sometimes remembering, to a certain degree, can help us remain firm in holding up boundaries to protect ourselves in the future. I just don’t think focusing on the boundary all the time is healthy. I think boundaries are good to have and should be held firm, but if we spend too much time focusing on the boundary we could lose our footing in faith and put ourselves into bondage. There needs to be a time when we can trust the Lord enough to be able to enjoy our lives without fear of a failing boundary.

The ‘stab scars’ in my back are not there as a reminder to not trust people, it’s there to remind me that we’re all human and have the potential to fail one another. However, I don’t want to fall into the trap of being afraid to learn to trust again. Being afraid of suffering from a broken heart is just that, fear. Fear is what puts us in bondage. The example we have from the Lord is that perfect love casts out all fear.

Anytime we open our hearts we put ourselves at risk of being hurt, but this is where faith comes in. The greater we love, the greater risk there is of being hurt. We hurt much, because we love much. If we didn’t love, it wouldn’t hurt. But what kind of life would we have without love?

And so it is with my dreams…they hurt because I love. The past is in the past and although I am building new friendships and hoping for more opportunities to love deeply, all of these experiences is what makes life so rich and poetic. Tragedy is a rite of passage for humanity and can help us to develop compassion for one another. I pray that the tragedies that have been in my life can be stepping stones for me to learn to invest in the lives of others and be a support to them as they make their own passage through such deep valleys. There is a poetic love found in tragedy, like a pearl that develops when an oyster suffers. I find it almost comical to see the parallel between human suffering and the oyster that suffers.

“Pearls are formed inside the shell of certain mollusks as a defense mechanism against a potentially threatening irritant such as a parasite inside its shell, or an attack from outside, injuring the mantle tissue. The mollusk creates a pearl sac to seal off the irritation.” ~Wiki

So here I am seeing the beauty in the pain, since it was the pain that created a pearl in me.

Pearl by lady_jess, on Pix-O-Sphere
photo credit Lady Jess

Share the love,

Sisterlisa

 

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Wrestling with UnAsked Questions

Some might say, “Who am I to question God?” I’ve heard that many times before along with a stern command from Christians to never question God. I have a hard time with that. They don’t know what I’ve been through in my life. Just because some men in the bible questioned God doesn’t mean all the questions are over. I think their questioning and testing of God shows us that we can too. Could our questioning of God really be a questioning of ourselves? Do we need to know God’s limits or our own?

Memories of difficult days can sometimes haunt me and if I sit in silence then I feel like I’m drowning. During our most difficult years of marriage…when he suffered from drug addiction and we were apart from one another.. I cried out my question.. against all commands from my Christian friends to never question God.. “Why me?” Why did he allow me to marry an addict? Why did I have to suffer so? And I wrestled with myself, my pain, my pit of despair. And I felt better for asking. Asking those questions relieved my soul. Holding them in was killing me. It was torture to my soul to suffer in the silence of unasked questions.

Asking questions makes people uncomfortable. We’d rather put on a polyester Christian cloak to hide from ourselves. To hide ourselves from the world. Do we really think the Emperor’s clothes look better on us that they looked on him? And yet Adam and Eve were naked before the Lord and not ashamed.

Why are we ashamed of our questions? Our pain? What will we discover about ourselves in the process? That we are vulnerable? Is this any surprise to God?

Maybe we’re not really afraid of God…maybe we are afraid of ourselves.

Allowing ourselves to be naked and vulnerable opens us up to the criticism and laughter of those around us. We will discover who is a friend and who is a foe….and we open ourselves up to suffer more pain and the infliction of a betrayed friendship wounds us deeply.

Will they laugh at me, or scold me for being naked before the Lord?

Will I be rejected for my humanity?…oh yes we shall.

And we are afraid of this, because life long friendships can become betrayal at a moment’s notice and the loss of the facade means more nakedness and greater depths of vulnerability and there it is that we discover we are not alone.

Huntington Beach, Ca. - 10/30/2011 by brotherscott, on Pix-O-Sphere
{photo credit Scott at Pix-O-Sphere}

When the onslaught of anger reaches it’s boiling point and we see that friends were really foes of the vulnerability of the cross it is then that we find the fellowship of his sufferings. We receive lashings from all around us, belittling words, curses that nail our hands to that cross and we’re crowned with the heretic’s royal diadem. We’re utterly shamed by the crowd and our clothes are rent and lots are cast… we went down the slippery slope and we are laid bare. Accused of rejecting God, we embrace him on that cross and he embraces us back…’today you will be with me in paradise’.

Look up one more time and see that there are tears shed for you my friends…and there are those who eagerly await your rebirth, your resurrection from the dead and they look for that blessed hope in you.

And it wounds us deeply under the rib…the heart is punctured and we die.

Who were they that crucified me, but so called Christians who wagged their tongues as I died that day. Those religious zealots who didn’t understand this Christ…because they had their own idea of what a savior is and they don’t believe he has come yet. They still wait for what is already our reality…this Kingdom that was found within and we didn’t know, we didn’t realize that unless we would die.. we would not find the birth of that seed…it was there all along.

This resurrection came about in the nakedness of the cross, of our shame, and we wrestled with our unasked questions out of fear, but life burst forth from that death. But the pain of that death held me back…I sat in the darkness of my unasked questions and suffered in the silence that gagged me.

The freedom to ask was given to me by the One who set me free. And each day I can wrestle with the One who will not defeat me..he wrestles with me and we  enjoy the heart beating hard, His arms around me the whole time. The slippery slope doesn’t end in destruction, we slide and end up in a never ending sea of grace. And there is no end…His love is vast and He is the Alpha found within..this mystery revealed. And so it is with any mystery..the glorious enjoyment of asking questions…because he is not insulted by our questions. He welcomes them and show us great and mighty things each step of the way.

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