Of Beauty and Brokenness

Isn’t this butterfly beautiful?

And this one, too?

No, they’re not the same butterfly, though they are both swallowtails. If you look closely at the second, he’s missing a part of his hind wing (tail), the tip on the bottom left side.

One butterfuly is broken; the other is not. But both flutter and dance in the breeze, displaying a beauty all their own.

The culture we live in — that airbrushed culture of fake perfection — says that only the unblemished can be beautiful, only the perfect can dance on life’s breezes.

I beg to differ.

I scream to differ.

Look at what the Apostle Paul says in 2 Corithians 12:9-10, “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

When Paul wrote this, God had just finished speaking to him in response to Paul’s plea for God to remove his “thorn”: “My grace is sufficient for you,” God said, “for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Paul can delight in his brokenness and weakness because of God’s sufficient grace.

Our culture denies the reality of our need for God’s grace. It denies that every one of us is broken (some just hide it well). So it rejects imperfection and sniffs at brokenness. It would have us be ashamed.

Rather than viewing our brokenness (whatever it is) with shame, we can embrace it as an opportunity to rely on God’s grace in ways we wouldn’t have without being broken. We can accept it as a means by which the world can seen God’s work in and through us. We can see it as a means to display God’s glory and beauty to those around us.

You see, Perfect People think they don’t need God. The broken know they do. And rejoice.

Why? Because we know God’s grace is sufficient to carry a broken swallowtail. We know His grace is sufficient to carry us. And we know that broken butterflies and broken people alike can fly with beauty as we rely on Him.

‘Til next time,
Joan

Read Full Post »

Looking Beneath the Petals

Okay. I’ll admit it.

I wrote about this topic back in February when Dear Hubby sent me two-dozen roses for Valentine’s Day. My entry today is recycled from what I wrote then.

I write about it now only because an incident last night reminded me of February’s lesson.

Dear Daughter, who came home for only a short two-day visit, went with me to see the movie Hairspray last night (a fabulous movie, btw). It was one of those mom-daughter-dates I fully expected to be fun and relaxing (DD and I have a special bond, and we enjoy being with each other). We can giggle together, and Hairspray was just the right movie for us to enjoy if we wanted an evening away to laugh and have fun.

I won’t go into details (my blood pressure still rises when I think about it), but not one minute into arriving someone in the theater treated Sarah and I with rudeness and contempt.

It was the last thing I needed after this week’s stresses at work. It was the last thing Sarah needed coming off 36-hours straight working as an EMT. We were exhausted and fragile.

The interaction soured us both and nearly ruined our night out.

I was ticked off and hurt. Sarah, who is two weeks shy of turning twenty-one, was ready to let this couple have it — full blast, double-barrel, in-your-face, “don’t talk to me that way” kind of reaction.

So there I was trying to keep my confident-self-assured-not-afraid-of-anyone daughter calm, yet trying to rationally deal with these nasty, arrogant people.

I finally turned from them, and told Sarah to drop it and ignore them,. I tried to ignore them (and their gestures) and prayed that God would give me grace to take the higher road.

So I sat there fuming (some higher road, eh?). Through 10 minutes of ads for coke and chef-boyardee. Then through 10 minutes of previews. And then through the start of the movie.

I was still mad, I mean ulcer-producing angry.

I think I was worn out. Work’s been emotionally draining this week, and I haven’t been sleeping well, so I had no margin or threshold to deal with these cynical, sarcastic, senior citizens (yes, the instigators of our encounter were two older people).

But God is bigger than my anger, my human frailty, and my weariness. He’s even bigger than my sinful desire to punish the people in front of us.

Twenty minutes into the movie (nearly an hour after the incident), I began to see this couple for what they were: sad, angry people, self-centered people who think they have to make others feel small so they can feel superior.

Life can’t be fun at their house.

But life is fun (by grace) at mine. :o)

Though it felt like it, I really wasn’t the hurting individual in the movie theater last night. Neither was Sarah. The couple in front of us must have carried far larger wounds to have to be so nasty to complete strangers.

Which brings me back to Valentine’s Day and my earlier post.

When I received flowers from DH in February, I was disappointed: they looked dreary, nearly dead. I suppose that had something to do with their sitting on a plane overnight in sub-zero temperatures (they got stuck in the awful ice storm of February 14, 2007). The bouquet looked ruined.

But I was wrong (not for the first time, nor for the last).

I read the little booklet that came with my flowers, and tucked deep inside were these instructions: “Remove the outer three or four petals. We leave these on your roses to protect the buds in transit.”

So pluck away I did, removing three or four petals from each rosebud.

And underneath, much to my surprise, I found gorgeous, healthy roses just waiting to open.

DH’s Valentine’s gift provided a great lesson I long ago learned but had forgotten:

Don’t trust first impressions.

So many of us wear damage spots, worn emotions, and frayed outer shells; yet beneath all that are precious souls loved by God waiting to blossom and become all God intends them to be.

We just need to look past the wilted edges.

Looking past the wilted edges last night meant I could eventually forgive these folks for nearly ruining what turned out to be a great evening with my sweet girl anyway. It allowed me to pray for them (and not for God’s vengeance!). And it allowed me to not take their outburst and actions personally.

Looking past the edges freed me to love.

Today, perhaps in a less-than-ideal encounter, won’t you join me in looking past the edges?

You may find unexpected beauty, and freedom.

‘Til next time,

Joan

Read Full Post »

The Lies We Believe

What lies am I tempted to believe?

What falsehoods or half-truths do I tend to live my life by?

One of our pastors asked that first question in his sermon this morning. I’ve been asking the second in many of my talks and teachings over the past few years.

They’re great questions. Probing questions. Revealing questions.

They expose our idols, those things we worship and cling to to make ourselves feel better. They unveil the lenses through which we view ourselves, others, and our worlds.

The problem is, I haven’t been examining my heart and mind in light of these questions in recent months, certainly not the way I have in the past. And it shows.

When I looked at my heart today, I wasn’t encouraged. How quickly I’d fallen back into unhealthy thought patterns! How easy it had been to slip on the old, worn slippers of erroneous thinking and distorted beliefs, just because they were familiar.

And how wrong I’ve been.

Here are just a few of the lies, falsehoods, and half-truths I found behind my recent thoughts and actions:

• My value depends on my performance (both quantity and quality).
• God’s delight in me depends on my doing everything right all the time.
• My future is in my hands; how it unfolds is up to me.
• If I make a mistake, I’m stupid and worthless.
• My financial security rests in my ability to scramble and earn enough to pay my bills.
• If I just tried harder, life would be easier.
• God won’t be merciful to me; I don’t deserve it. I made my bed…
• It’s all a lie; this thing called faith; who are you trying to kid? (Yes, truth be told, my head has gone there in my weariest moments; but God faithfully brings me home again).

Believers in our contemporary, post-modern, American culture tend to underestimate the spiritual battle we face every day. Each morning we encounter anew the principalities, powers, value systems, ways of thinking, and cultural trends that would undermine our faith and cloud our thinking. Satan’s main strategy throughout history and Scripture has been to plant false ideas in our minds and cast doubt on God’s character, word, and motives.

Like rising mists that obscure our view, false beliefs fog our way of seeing ourselves, our lives, and our God.

And that’s exactly what I’d fallen prey to, largely unnoticed by me: creeping falsehoods, insidious half-truths, out-and-out lies.

Just look at the list above. Now compare some of it with what God says is true:

• My value, worth, and dignity have nothing to do with performance; I have value because God made me in His image and because He loves and delights in me, period. I can do nothing to make Him love me more (or less). His love for me (and you) is perfect and complete.
• God meets me in grace because He already knows I can’t do everything right, let alone all the time. I’m sinful. That’s why we needed the Law: to show us our need for a Savior, One that only God could provide. And Jesus’ death on the cross was more than sufficient to cover my sin and imperfection. God delights in me because I belong to Him; I’m adopted into His family by His grace through His Son’s perfect work. To say that His delight in me depends on my perfect obedience (or my attempts at self-atonement) would be to say that Jesus’ life and sacrifice weren’t good enough to cover my sin.
• Consider this: “In his heart a man plans his course, but the LORD determines his steps” (Proverbs 16:9 – NIV). Or how about James 4:13-16 (ESV):
  ^“13 Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”—
  ¹⁴ yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.
  ¹⁵ Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.”
  ¹⁶ As it is, you boast in your arrogance. All such boasting is evil.” Any thought I have that I’m in control of my future is sheer illusion. The fact that I even wake up each morning is dependent on God’s grace. That I live and breath and think and feel is entirely dependent on His sustaining work in me and in Creation. How silly to think I can control the future!

I’ve addressed just the first three falsehoods here, but you get the idea.

I’d unknowingly allowed distortions to creep into my thinking.

And it took a deliberate time of prayerful self-evaluation to reveal them for what they were. Then it took a deliberate act of “taking each thought captive and making it obedient to Christ” (2 Corinthians 10:5) to restore my perspective and bring peace to my soul.

So what lies are you believing today? What truths can you embrace to correct them?

Take time to examine your heart and mind this afternoon. Ask yourself the questions that began today’s blog entry.

Then use your sword of truth and shield of faith (from Ephesians 6) to extinguish any fiery darts of deception you find there.

God will restore you soul and your peace as you do.

‘Til next time,
Joan

Read Full Post »

When Less is More

How’s that for an attention-getting title? We (in American culture) long for less complexity and greater simplicity in our lives!

I can think of so many ways and times when less is more:

• Less humidity = more enjoyment of the weather (it’s really humid and hot here now)
• Less stuff = more freedom from things and clutter
• Less house = more time NOT having to clean
• Less software = more hard-drive space and faster processing times
• Less junk food = more health
• Less content = more to think about
• Less talk = more to hear
• Less noise = more silence

But these are not the things I had in mind when I wrote today’s title. Instead, I was thinking of a co-worker’s guitar playing.

In addition to what he does for Lighthouse Network, my boss Victor is a flamenco guitar player, performer, and recording artist. Flamenco is that kind of guitar music (forgive the basic definition) that sounds like Spanish classical guitar. I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m no flamenco expert (I know nothing about it), but Victor plays really well. I mean really well.

Well, despite his expertise, Victor is taking lessons now from a master guitarist in NYC. And since his first lesson, Victor has been working on bending the fingers of his right hand (the strum hand) from the knuckle joint in his hand, instead of using his wrist and forearm, too. I see him occasionally looking at his hand, working to bend his index finger in isolation from the rest.

(I only noticed because it looks a lot like exercises I had to do in rehab with my left hand after I broke it last year.)

Apparently, this technique allows for better control, less fatigue, and finer sound.

• Less movement = more effective guitar playing
• Less muscle involvement = more endurance (something important in long playing sessions)
• Less motion = more control

Hmmm…less motion, more control. Now there’s a soul-care tip if I ever heard one!

In the past when things challenged, frustrated, depressed, or overwhelmed me, I got busy: fixing, doing, solving, mediating, communicating, structuring, planning, trying, cleaning up, working it out.

I moved! I was a woman of motion. If my life then were a guitar, and I a flamenco guitar player, my actions would’ve looked like some weird spastic gyration of not just fingers, hand and wrist, but forearm, elbow, upper arm, shoulder, neck, back, spine, hips, head, and face.

The problem was, my activity was without control or steadiness. It may have looked good to the casual observer (and it often did), but it was without discipline or quality (as any master would’ve known and recognized). It was reaction, not pro-action. It was crisis activity, not calm address. I ended up bruised, broken, sore, depressed, confused, and burnt out.

But I’m learning.

I’m learning that “In repentance and rest is [my] salvation, in quietness and trust is [my] strength,” (Isaiah 30:15).

Less = more

Taking time for rest, inactivity, reflection, quietness, stillness, sleep, prayer, meditation, quiet reading, a walk in the woods, a cup of tea on the deck where I can watch and learn from the sparrows — taking time for soul care — that’s a huge lessening of “activity” for me.

Less “activity” = more awareness of God (at least in my heart and life).

And with less impulsive action has come greater peace.

Less really is more.

I just wish I’d known it sooner.

‘Til next time,
Joan

Read Full Post »