Mountain Tops

A doctor once told me, “Your tonsils are so scarred that if you come back to me with them this inflamed I’ll have to take them out.”   I never went back to that doctor. No it wasn’t because of a miraculous healing but more like avoidance. I hate needles, the sight of blood and yes surgery – next best option -self medicate.

I’ve turned the final page on “Get out of That Pit” and today of all days my mood matches the darkness outside and the rain beating on my window. You’d think that reading and writing about pit abandonment would get me out and keep me out. After all, surely I’ve read all the to do’s and what not to do’s.  Yet if you talk to me too rough right at this moment I just may burst into tears for seemingly no reason.

The memory of my bout with tonsillitis brings two things to mind. No matter how high and lifted up I think [emphasis on the word think] I am, I still don’t own a pit exemption card. I may look pit free and act pit free but I have scars, some still fresh.  The strain of the pit disease is still in me and I’m not above another bout if placed in the right environment.  Almost calls for an outer body experience where I look at myself and ask what in the world is wrong with you!?!

It also reminds me that self medication is not the answer. I can self medicate alllllllllll I want, I still would not be pit free and stay pit free unless I gave my scars, my doubts, my hang ups to God, Jehovah Rapha, the only true healer.  A friend said to me “I read that book and it didn’t help, I may need to read it again.” The things is reading books may help get us in touch with ourselves and cause us to look at places and things we’ve kept hidden from others — or even thought we were over, but it doesn’t heal us does it?

Life is filled with so many hills and valleys. How I respond to my valley determines how long I stay there. I’m about to go talk to my God right now and react to my valley as if I’m still on the mountain! I can see the sun peeking out already. Care to join me?


Choppy Waters

The Psalmist David said, “I waited patiently for the Lord…”  Well, I’m ashamed to say that that’s not my testimony.  Mine would read more like – “I waited, grumbled, pleaded, bargained…went back to waiting for the Lord while fixing my problems on my own.”  My Psalm would probably have 300 chapters instead of 150 because all my ‘fix-on-my-own’ strategies backfire and make God have to do extra to untangle me. Sigh…I’m working on my wChoppy Watersaiting skills.

“Smooth living makes for sloppy spirituality,” says Moore in her book “Get Out of that Pit”. How true huh… we never really think of it until we compare our high chapters with our low chapters. When the seas are choppy I pursue God with such a vengeance and then when the waves calm my pursuit falters.  It’s as if God brings storms to tap me on the shoulder saying – “hey hey, you DON’T have this under control ma’am.”  I wish though that we could just by pass all the choppy waves. Won’t it be something if like an editor we could look through the book of our life and delete chapters at will before they even unfold?  I find myself sometimes when I’m going through, pleading with God telling him that I’ve learned whatever  lesson he’s trying to teach me so I could get out faster.  Yes I actually do say this pray…I know I know … I’m fooling no one and especially not God.

“Good stories don’t jump on a page,” — good things come to those who wait…. Yaddy yaddy yah … Such powerful messages that remind us that trials are meant to shape and make us. We know all these sayings and can sure preach them to our sisters when they are going through. But as soooooooon as the shoe is on the other foot, ohhhhh … all of a sudden we feel it’s too tight, bunions flare up and corns start itching.  There I go again with the French and “we” – let me speak for me.

Deep down in my heart of hearts I know that God’s got me. I know it. Yet before I get to that place of calm assurance I’m in a crumpled ball in my closet misusing my tear ducts. And not just the sniff sniff pat your eyes cry. No I’m talking about the kind where the hurt tortures the very pit of my stomach and my helplessness threatens my very peace of mind.  Have you ever been in that place? Where you just wish that you could detach yourself from the pain until it subsides? Even as I’m writing this it’s dawning on me that this is the key. “MY helplessness” — Light bulb!  In my own strength I’m helpless. If only when I’m in trouble I look up and not around. Perhaps this is where God is trying to take me — mature me to the point where like Job instinctively I say, not just with my lips but with my actions – “though he slays me yet will I trust him…though he slays me —YET will I trust Him!”

A friend said to me I can’t swim, but I can handle my own with my doggie paddle. How are you handling your choppy waters?

Hammock Time!

How to get out of the pit? “You can opt for God” — Uhhhhh – then why didn’t I do that a long time ago? We do God just the same way we do so many otHammock Timeher things in our lives.

When planning my trip back home I packed tons of supplies including an extra laptop – just in case.  A young man recently told me he has four eggs in one basket and four in another – just in case. And just in case God doesn’t deliver us WHEN we want him to we start a Band-Aid Ministry covering sores because we don’t opt for God.

Moore then advises us on three “Get out of That Pit” steps: Cry out, Confess, Consent. I don’t know about you but I sure do have the “Cry Out” piece down pat.  Aren’t you happy just having that calm assurance that no matter where we are or how deep in the pit we are that when we cry out God hears AND answers?  That just puts a yesssssssssss in my spirit.

Marvin Winans sang “…and if I had a dime for every time I tried to call your name. Some tell me, I’d be wealthy…you just don’t wanna know.”

I’m with Marvin on this one, I absolutely hate to be ignored – you know you saw my number on your phone!  Just think, with God before we even finish dialing his number He’s already heard us and answered.  I can just imagine Him tilting His head in my direction saying, “I hear my child calling!” The song writer says “whisper His name and He’ll come to you…shout out His name. And He will run to you.”   One thing to remember here too is that this is between you and God. He doesn’t care if we have the perfect words, the most eloquent prayer, or a prayer voice that shatters chandeliers. He just wants a sincere heart.   

I think I have the confess part down too – note I said think so there’s still room for improvement here.  My real weakness though is in the consenting part. Not that I’m in a pit now, or want to stay in a pit, but I get into pits and stay in pits, trouble, sin, things that aren’t good for me because I get convenient amnesia and forget that God’s will and God’s plan is flawless.  You just can’t beat flawless. Let me go find my hammock so I can lay in kef while God does his “shifting, shoving, and rearranging!”

Consent problems anyone? Which “Get Out of that Pit” steps gives you the most angst?

Make up Your Bed

I’m not sure about you but chapter 5 of “Get out of That Pit” had me abusing my highlight and note taking Kindle function. Side note if you haven’t started reading it, it’s not too late to join us!

Moore starts the chapter reminding us that “we don’t need to deal with our pits we need to get OUT of our pits.”  Duh right?  Still we have many perfectly made beds covering rumpled sheets…

I absolutely love the analogy Beth uses of Reuben saving Joseph from one pit, only to plop him smack dab into another. And Reuben thought he was doing Joseph a favor. In the grand scheme of things I suppose he was, yet it really gives us a vivid picture of how inadequate we are as humans at problem solving. What we ARE good at is creating sinkholes—the kind synonymous to sewer collapses.  

“The trouble comes when we insist upon someone equally human becoming our deliverer…Nothing is more futile or leaves us more fractured than trusting man to be our God”—but  we do it – over and over and…  correction – I do it. Perhaps we don’t do the full gamut of bowing to them or creating an altar to worship, but when trouble comes who do we speed dial?  Do we fall on our knees or reach for the nearest phone?   Oft times it’s not really about anointing fallible human gods but about finding crutches.  We pack our lives with people, things, and activities that fill a void, even if only temporarily.  It’s like the dull throb of a toothache.  Ointment for the gum, a filling, a root canal, a crown – all temporary fixes – some even last for years, but until we yank the tooth completely out we’ll always need to fix it.

“People can help us but they can’t heal us. People can lift us but they can’t carry us.”  Ohhhhhh can we repeat that again – slowly?  I’m about to find a mirror…

 “People can help us —– BUT they can’t heal us…People can lift us…BUT — they can’t carry us.”   No matter how much someone props us up or coax us out of our pits if we don’t get up and put one foot in front the next, we’ll be like a man on a treadmill running but going absolutely nowhere.   While we nurse this thought here’s something else I had to chew on – expectations.  We put so much on people that before they start racing they’ve already faltered. “Only God can hang with us through the length of our need and the length and breadth of our baloney.” And in case you were wondering — yes I have baloney, you have baloney, and even the Queen with her fascinator tilted just right has baloney.

What a comfort it is to know that our unfailing God “knowing all we are, all we feel, and all we hide” – all our baloney – still loves us.

That’s MY God. Is he yours?