No Condemnation

I have lost track of the number of people who have stopped talking to me over my life. Friends, family members - both believers and unbelievers. Whether it’s from shame, embarrassment, maybe it’s fear of judgment. I don’t know. Most of the time I’ve never been given the opportunity to ask why I’ve been rejected and ignored after loving them. The Bible says “there is no condemnation in Christ.” As a follower of Him, there’s an element of that verse that applies to me too. It is not my job to condemn or shame or berate or in anyway make another person feel less than simply because we don’t agree on any given topic or choice. It is my job to love. The truth is that sometimes love includes correction and correction can be uncomfortable. Sometimes hearing hard truths can feel like judgment. But I think if people who have so easily been able to ignore me would search their memories and reflect on all the times that I listened or advised or helped, maybe they would see that my motive has always been love. My heart has never been to be estranged from anyone that I’ve loved.

Unfortunately, it’s not up to me to force the relationship if the other person doesn’t want one. Ironically, it’s the same thing with the Lord. He doesn’t force a relationship with us. But how His heart must hurt from the rejection and being ignored when all He’s ever done is love and offer no condemnation.

What Satisfies?

The marketing team at the Mars Corporation was genius when it came up with this slogan.

When hungry (who are we kidding, we’re hangry), this little bar provides instant relief. A little protein, a lot of sweetness - it fills both your mouth and your belly. It comes in sizes easy to carry or to share with others. And every time you have one, you remember how good it is. It “satisfies.” But if you don’t open it, none of those things happen. You stay hungry, unfilled. It doesn’t matter that you have it in your possession because it’s intended use isn’t realized until it’s been opened. Psalm 119:103 says “How sweet are Your words to my taste! Yes, sweeter than honey to my mouth!” God’s words are His scriptures. Filled with wisdom and guidance and correction and love and forgiveness and mercy and grace and blessing and compassion and comfort and hope. His words fill our minds and hearts with joy and peace. Our hungry souls are fed and satisfied. We can gain this for ourselves and share it with others. And you’re reminded of how very good He is. HE satisfies. But if you don’t open His Word, none of those things happen. We remain in need, starving and empty. Holding the closed book close to us does nothing with the goodness inside. Its purpose is left undone. We suffer for it. Those around us suffer for it. What a simple, yet powerful, image of what many of us do daily/weekly/monthly/yearly. Living unsatisfied lives because we do not open the very thing that gives us Life.

Soul Searching

Do you ever just find yourself in a season of “what’s wrong with me?” When you think you’re doing all the right things and yet there’s no success? I feel like my season has been extra long. The daylight’s saving time of extra - but in darkness instead of light. The efforts feel wasted with no product to show for them. I’m sowing in good soil, I’m just not seeing fruit. I’ve always laughed at my black thumb when it comes to plants. I’ve often said I’m a hospice to anything potted. I’ll do all I know to do, but in the end, my good intentions still fail, and I’m left with a pitiful, dead mess. Even if I change the types of plants, don’t overdo the sunshine or water, it doesn’t make a difference. Only now I’m catching myself drawing a parallel between my failures at plant keeping and my failures at sowing things around me. Good soil, good intentions, still failure. Why is that? What’s wrong with me? 🥀Am I too much? 🥀Not enough? 🥀Too loud? 🥀Too cautious? 🥀Too old? 🥀Too young? 🥀Too available? 🥀Too easily forgotten? My pain is caught in that last one. Do I leave a room and it’s as if I was never in it? Or do I leave a room and they breathe a sign of relief? I’m not sure which is worse. They both would leave a deep wound. 🪴People are busy. 🪴They have different interests. 🪴They are in their own season. 🪴Their needs are already being met. But my soul searching simply brings me to the same conclusion: I’m the common denominator. Trying different things with different circles brings the same results. So what’s wrong with me? I don’t have any answers. I wish I did. Suggestions and advice on what I’m doing to sabotage every effort would be helpful. But I lack that too. And many will be quick to say “there’s nothing wrong with you!” But I can’t believe that. I should be drawing something good to me, even if it’s small. If I repel everything, that’s a problem. There’s a hard truth here somewhere. Someone holds the key. I’d like to unlock the secret so I can make the necessary changes to whatever is wrong. It’s a strange place to be in: wanting to do better, but not knowing what to adjust. I’m sure I’m not alone. I’m sure others shed tears in private, questioning their worth and likability. Ironically, we’re not often finding one another, despite our ability to understand and build each other up. Or perhaps we do find each other and don’t know it. Maybe we’re too good at hiding the loneliness and insecurity so we don’t recognize one another. ☀️ And there’s the ray of light in this moment: that in my vulnerability, I will speak to someone else in their extra long season of (fill in the blank) and show them I’m here. That despite my own doubts and failures, I’ll raise my hand so you can find me. So that I can reach for your hand and offer a quiet hug of understanding and whisper “there’s nothing wrong with us; but if there is, let’s help each other fix it.”

Crying for Help

 ...and not seeing any... 

Have you ever been in a situation that seemed over your head?  No matter what solutions you tried, you simply couldn't make the circumstances better (or go away).  And when you asked for help, it appeared no one cared and just wanted you to figure it out for yourself?  What if who you were asking for help was...God?  And He didn't seem to be answering?

Several years ago, as a young adult fresh out of high school, one of our daughters had a stalker.  He would drive by our house, he'd call her phone and send texts, he's show up in places he shouldn't have known she would be.  The police said that without an incident or a restraining order, there was nothing they could do.  

One of the stalker's favorite things was to show up at her job and simply hang out "as a customer."  He would go in every day.  If she wasn't working, he would ask for her schedule so he'd know exactly when he needed to show up again.  Despite our daughter going to her management, this man continued to show up at work and ask her coworkers about her.  Even I tried speaking to the managers to express how they were failing to protect her and her privacy. We were told that as long as he was a customer and he wasn't doing anything to interfere with her job, he couldn't be stopped.  However, they did tell the department not to give out her schedule.

This went on for months.  The process to get a restraining order is long and full of red tape. Because he hadn't (yet) proven to be a physical threat, it would be hard to get a judge to order one.  So this guy got to follow her around and harass her just because he could.  Our daughter was anxious, upset, and dreaded going to work on a daily basis.

It happened one afternoon that my husband had an appointment and said he'd like to take her work since it was on his way.  They enjoyed a nice chat until they pulled into the parking lot of her job and she saw the stalker just getting out of his truck.  Immediately she was near tears as she said, "He's here before I even walk in!  I can't get away from him!" Her father had listened to her try to do all the right things for weeks with no results.  And he'd had enough. 

He told her to "go ahead inside, I'm right behind you."

What she heard was "go ahead inside."

Heartbroken and scared, she got out of the vehicle and walked into her job, never noticing that her father got out and followed her in.  His eye was on her the entire time.  She went straight to her department to clock in.  Her father followed.  And found her stalker standing just feet away from where his daughter would be working in just a few moments.

Knowing his name and his ambitions for the military, my husband struck up a friendly conversation.  The guy had no idea what was about to take place.  He smiled at my husband and answered a few questions.  Then he asked how my husband knew his name.  "Oh, that's because I'm xxxxx's dad."  You could have heard a pin drop.  Our daughter's coworkers were watching it all play out in real time - the smile fade, the nervous look around, the sizing up of what this father was now going to do.  And my husband, the father of my children, told this guy that if he wanted to pursue a career in the military, he'd need to make different choices.  Better choices.  Because an arrest for stalking wouldn't be looked upon with favor if he decided to enlist.  My husband made no threats.  He didn't touch him.  He didn't even raise his voice. He simply stated that he would use whatever legal recourse available to him to protect his daughter if the man would not stop harassing her.  And then my husband walked away.  But not before going to speak to our daughter's management.  He reminded them that it was their job to protect their employees and that meant not allowing anyone to harass, follow, or upset them to the point of feeling unsafe at work.  He also reminded them that they can refuse service to any "customer" at any time and ban this guy from the store.  But that no matter what they decided, he would make sure that his daughter felt safe wherever it was she decided to work. And then he left for his appointment.

What she had tried to fix for months, her father handled in ten minutes.

I think sometimes God works that way.  We try so hard to solve our problems.  Sometimes they're problems we've created so we think we have to fix them.  Other times the problem is because of someone else and we think we have to regain control.  And even when we get to a point where we pray and cry and seek God because "I don't know how to fix this!" we don't always get that warm feeling that He's waved His hand and made it all disappear. 

We tell Him our problem and He says “go ahead, move forward. Do what you’re supposed to.” And we think “what?! How am I supposed to solve this? You said come to You and now You’re telling me to just go about my business?”

Yet He’s right behind us, bringing up the rear, re-enforcement we don’t even realize. He is the solution, He is handling what He knows we cannot. But we’re too stressed and worried to notice Him. 

Our daughter still talks about the day her dad confronted her stalker.  She still tells the story from her perspective, that she "didn't know he got out of the car.  I just remember thinking, ok, I have to go in here alone because Dad has to go.  I didn't know he followed me in.  But I'm so glad he did!"

That day showed her a tangible example of her father's love for her.  He showed up even when she
didn't know he was there.  He didn't leave her to fend for herself anymore.  What a beautiful moment for her heart!

My friend, I pray that this story and analogy will somehow give you a beautiful moment for your heart as well.  Perhaps you can look at a situation you are going through, or something you've experienced, and see the Father's love as He is not leaving you.  Just because you didn't hear all of His words or see Him walking beside you, doesn't mean He has hung back while you continue to fight a losing battle.  He is here - going before you and coming behind you, to defend you, His precious child.

The Struggle for Equality

It's not what you think it is

We live in a world with very blatant inequality.  I'm not disputing that.  Statistically women get paid less than their male counterparts for doing the same exact job.  And they pay more for similar products or services than men.  Ethnicities are treated better or harsher. Politics, sexuality, education level, finances...rampant inequality.  And I acknowledge that it's happening. But that's not where I'm going with this post.

Often when we think of equality, we think of "sameness."  If I'm a factory worker and work on the assembly line with 15 years of experience, I want the same pay as the guy next me doing the same exact task with the same 15 years of experience.  If two people with the same education and experience are up for a job, skin color or accent shouldn't make a difference in qualifications. That would make sense.  But the equality that we find in our daily lives tends to be a bit more gray.

And I'm going to challenge you:  what you're looking for isn't equality.  It's fairness.

When you go shopping, do you want "sameness?"  All the shirts are the same color, same size, same brand?  Do you hope for every car in the parking lot to look just like yours?  Do you buy the first house you see because you fully expect every other house for sale is exactly like this one?  NO!!!

What you want is that a small sized shirt will cost the same as the medium one.  You want a car that represents your personality and needs that is competitive in price with other similar options.  You want a home that will provide space for your family while also fitting your budget.  Fairness, not equality.

What about gift giving holidays for your children?  Do you choose fairness or equality?  What's the difference?

Equality says "I have three kids and they need to have the same number of gifts."  What you may or may not do is then spend the same amount of money on them as well.  In which case, you'll be hard pressed to get the same amount of gifts for the same amount of money if your kids are 3yo, 8yo, and 15yo.  Good luck!

Fairness says "I have three kids and I will spend the same amount of money on each one."  One year our teenager wanted a bass guitar.  We told him that would use up his entire gift budget.  He didn't care.  He was ok having only one gift.  Later his sister had the same budget. But she was interested in different things and so her money went into several gifts.  Should we have been equal and gotten her a bass guitar?  No way!  But we were fair and spent the same amount of money on each of them, even though the quantity and quality of the gifts was not equal.

Here's another example of equality gone awry.  Many years (decades) ago, I had just moved out and gone away to college.  There was a popular song that came out and the chorus was about a letter a mother had given her daughter, encouraging her to always call home.  "Here's a penny for your thoughts and a quarter for the call."  It always reminded me of my own mom, who I would call often.  One day I mentioned the song to her and how it always made me think of her.  For Christmas that year (long before we stopped celebrating), my mom had printed those lyrics and taped a penny and a quarter to the paper in place of the words and framed it to give to me.  I loved it!  It was the most special gift.  I treasured that $0.26 framed song and put it on my desk.  During a visit home sometime later, I went into my sister's room - and saw a frame that was identical to mine.  I asked her where she got it.  "Oh, Mom gave it to me.  She says it's from a song, but I've never heard of it."  I was heartbroken.  What was something special between me and my mother was no longer special because my mom had given the same exact gift to my sister.  And my sister had no reference to truly appreciate the gift that now meant nothing to me.  In my mother's eagerness to be "fair," she chose to be equal.

We, as humans, aren't looking for equality.  In fact, we crave not being treated the same in many, many ways. We don't want cookie cutter treatment from others.  We want genuine uniqueness.

I do not take my daughter to my son's favorite restaurant.

I do not make my son my husband's favorite meal.

I do not buy my sister a sweater in my mother's favorite color.

I do not want my husband to give my best friend the same attention that he gives me.

And I do not want God to answer my prayers in the same way He is answering someone else's.

Read that last one again.

What if God was as equal as we say we want Him to be?  What if He responded to your need the same way He responded to my need?  You need a job and I need healing and we both got a friend who brought us a casserole.  Yeah, that doesn't help either of us.

Our needs aren't the same! And that's the whole point of this topic.  

We often think that God isn't being "fair" when what He's actually doing is not being equal.  I don't want Him to interact with me in a way I don't need.  I don't want Him to respond to me as if I'm someone else.  I want Him to know me and to meet my needs as best He knows how.  That's the beauty  of fairness - being in relationship with someone and knowing their likes and dislikes and favorite things and allergies and needs and desires and then being able to interact with them with that knowledge and build them up by treating them as the special person that they are, rather than treating like everyone else and no one is special.

So let me reiterate again:  I am not discussing the inequality of some human beings being treated better over other human beings.  I do not condone any lessor treatment of any person for any reason.  What I am pointing out is that in our cry for equality, we forget what we're asking for from a personal and intimate perspective.  We should all be striving more for fairness in our relationships rather than spending our time and resources on making everything equal.  

And perhaps we should change our perspective to look for the things that are in our lives pointing to fairness and known-ness.

*They know how I like my coffee and brought me a cup that's perfect.

*They know my favorite flower and painted me a picture of a bouquet.

*They know I don't like that restaurant even though it's their favorite and chose to go somewhere we'd both enjoy.

*They know I'm struggling with this class and offered to help me.

*They know that I am in need of a babysitter and came over to stay with my kids.

What is actually happening is that you are being LOVED by not being treated equally.  By knowing you and your life, you are being treated fairly and with great care.  It's a beautiful thing.

The Mirror and The Scale

How I hate you

The mirror - This flat two-dimensional surface that reflects whatever is in front of it. Where I look multiple times a day. Where I see every flaw. The tiny hairs to pluck. The blemishes that never went away after puberty. The double chin. The hair that does nothing. The curves that aren’t flattering. Stretch marks decades old. Pale skin that will never hold a tan.  In my eyes I can see the disappointment in myself. I can see my lack of self-control. I can see all the ways I’m not the woman I wish I was. The woman the world wishes I was.

The scale - This hidden device is pulled out for only one reason: to measure me against the norm. To show me the number that goes up even when I try to do right. The number that determines the number on my clothes. The number that tells me I’m too much, and therefore not enough. The weight in my heart is heavier than the weight on the scale. 

No two items have ever caused more damage to an individual on a daily basis. And even if the scale can be avoided, the mirror more than makes up for it - using your car windows, computer screen, and reverse camera to catch you off guard and keep you discouraged over and over throughout the day. Every day.

I hate these two items more than any others. And they hate me. They are not kind, but brutally honest. There is no compliment before ruining my day. Any attempt at recovering from their judgement is futile most days.

So I struggle. I struggle to break the cycle with negative self-talk. I struggle with self-love. I struggle to face the day when I see what others will see as soon as I leave this room.

But the mirror doesn’t reflect everything. It can’t reflect the smiles exchanged with others. It doesn’t record all the kisses from my husband. It never plays back all the laughter. It doesn’t keep a record of hugs from my children. It cannot show the prayers I pray for others. 

And the scale cannot measure everything. It cannot know the number of my IQ or bank account or credit score. It does not measure the depth of my relationships or the distance I’d go for my loved ones. It was not designed to weigh the burdens of a mother’s love or a wife’s faithfulness. 

These two items can only do one thing each - report what’s visible on the outside. They show so little of what makes up a person. They may show a beautiful body, but cannot indicate a person’s character, education level, work ethic, talents, loyalties, prejudices, morals, or beliefs. 

The most important things that make up a person are unable to be measured by these two devices. And yet we live by them daily, accepting their information as weighing more than all the other things that make us unique and special and valuable. As if the size of our waist is more important than how we treat others. As if the thinning hair or crooked teeth make us less attractive than the words we throw at others on social media. 

I don’t know how to break the cycle for me. I do know that reminding myself of my other attributes is imperative if I am to find my smile in my reflection. What I am on the outside is NOT the sum of who I am as a person. Who you are on the outside is NOT the sum of who you are as a person. 

One of my favorite movies is Shallow Hal. I wish society would take more time to invest in the inner qualities and reward those than to make others feel worthy and worthless for differing levels of attractiveness. The mental health of average people is suffering. And the ego of above average people is staggering. There's also a song by Barlow Girl called Mirror.  One of the lyrics is "you don't define me."  And that's where I'm making my stand.

 

The image in the mirror is not my beginning and end.

 

The number on the scale is not my beginning and end.

 

I am more than these two devices.  And so are you.

"It Must Be Nice"

You have no idea, but I know what you mean

“It must be nice to not work.”

“It must be nice to have insurance pay for that.”

“It must be nice to be rich.”

“It must be nice to be retired.”

“It must be nice to have no kids in the house.”

“It must be nice to have a good husband.”

These are all things I’ve had said to me multiple times in my life. I don’t know why people feel the need to express their thoughts (envy? bitterness?) in this way. I wish they’d stop. But more than that, I wish they knew how wrong they are. I'm not often this confrontational in my writing, but I really think this is something that needs to be addressed.

“It must be nice to not work.” I don’t work because a disability and a broken system prevent me from working. I’ve had years of pain and lost mobility and surgeries in my future. You have no idea I have crawled across the floor because it hurt too much to walk.  I have been unable to pick up my newborn because my hands were too weak to hold her safely. I have used a shopping cart as a walker. I’ve been told I’m faking it. I’ve had a doctor tell me if I need a handicap placard that badly, then I should just get joint replacements instead of a piece of plastic for my car. You think I don’t want to work? Share my ideas? Be a part of a team? Be given accolades and promotions for my successes? You think it’s fun to have talents and have no outlet to use them? But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to have insurance pay for that.” My insurance helps to pay for very expensive medicine that makes it possible for me to live a life that looks as “normal” as possible. You have no idea it allows me to not be in a wheelchair. It allows me to drive. It allows me to do mundane chores instead of hiring someone to help. And it costs us money every month to pay for that insurance. But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to be rich.” I’m not sure what the definition of “rich” is, but apparently we’ve arrived. And I laugh at this the most because it’s not even close to the truth. We raised seven kids. We paid child support for years. We spent years counting pennies. Our kids didn’t get family vacations. They didn’t get a car when they turned 16. There were no college funds for them. You have no idea we instead spent five years figuring it out so my husband could finish his degrees. We moved a lot for job opportunities. We paid off debt. We said “no” to fun and “yes” to responsibly. We sold things to have money to pay for kids’ gifts and field trips and yearbooks. And now those kids are raised and we have an even tighter budget. But because we have some nice things, we’re rich? Few people saw the struggles. They only see today. It took sacrifice to get here. We aren’t rich. We’re trying to be smart. But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to be retired.” My husband is ten years older than me. So I’m reaping the benefits of retirement life sooner than some of my peers. But it’s not without its own consequences. You have no idea that our income changed dramatically. We had to make decisions for twenty and thirty years from now and hope we’re choosing correctly. We had to find a new routine. We had to adjust to all of our time being together. It is nice to be retired. And it can be boring and lonely and annoying. But yeah, I know what you mean. 

“It must be nice to have no kids in the house.” Our kids. This is such a complex, loaded, emotional topic. When they’re little and you’re sleep deprived and they’re sick all the time and you don’t know if they’ll need therapy after all the mistakes you think you're making on a daily basis...you can’t wait for them to be grown. And teenagers are a test for sure. But what people don’t know is that there were years of having more kids than bedrooms. There were more birthdays than budget. There were more mouths than groceries. You have no idea we had years of distance as some of them needed space to work through their own experiences. We haven’t had all seven kids in the same place for almost fifteen years. So while I enjoy the relationships I have with my adult children - and it’s nice to have time alone just me and my husband - I long for the days when we were all under one roof. When we could drive each other crazy and still smile at sleeping heads before doing it all again the next day. I’d love a Thanksgiving with every one of my children around the table. But yeah, I know what you mean.

“It must be nice to have a good husband.” I’ll tell you, it’s not nice having a good husband. It’s AMAZING!!! But the people who say this to me don’t know the pain I went through to get him. The lies, the infidelity, the refusal to work, the rejection of my small children, the anger, the harassment. You want a good husband my way? You have no idea what I went through! You’ll need to leave with nothing and live in low income housing. You’ll need to get food stamps. You’ll need to have no car for months. You’ll have to have a very limited support group in a small town with few resources. You’ll need to go to court over and over and over to prove lies against you have no merit. And you’ll have to explain to your children why the man who created them wants nothing to do with them. It was NOT nice going through those years. But yeah, I know what you mean. 

What you mean is “It’s not fair that I see you having/doing/being whatever I feel is missing in my life.” 

What you mean is “I want to make you feel guilty for what you have and where you are.”

What you mean is “It never occurred to me that you have a story of pain and struggle that might make me think differently if I cared enough to ask and listen instead of put my fear of failure onto you.”

I don’t owe anyone an explanation of my life. And yet I feel obligated to explain when people make these flippant remarks about my life. I feel obligated because I have tried to use every bit of my life to not only encourage others, but to also show them that I can relate because I have been there. I do not gloat in my material possessions. I glory in my journey. The Lord walked with me through every one of my difficulties and used them to grow my faith in Him. And He grew my compassion. My perspective. My ability to look for the silver lining. Nothing I’ve gone through has been wasted.

But what strikes me the most is that many of these statements come from people who have not experienced going hungry or getting divorced or having estranged children or learning to live with a disability. How sad is it to make a comment that can cut so deep with no depth of awareness. 

“It must be nice to be employed.”

“It must be nice to be healthy.”

“It must be nice to have everything you need.”

“It must be nice to have the same job for forty years.”

“It must be nice to have your children nearby.”

“It must be nice to never have been divorced.”

These are things I’ve never said. Never once in all of my lack did I ever look at others and think that what they had was undeserved just because I didn’t have the same. The two are not connected. 

I’m sure some people say it and never give it another thought. There was no intended malice. But the damage is done nonetheless. So if you’re reading this and you’ve made a comment like this, stop it. It’s judgmental and trite and unnecessary. Instead, be excited for them. Ask them their story. Listen more and keep score less.

If you’re in a season (or two) of doing without, I want you to know you aren’t alone. There are things that can be growing you now if you’ll let them. Your compassion, your perseverance, your faith: things that cannot be measured by the world’s standard of riches. In those dark moments, do not forget to look for the silver lining.

 

“I have a place to sleep.”

“My kids are healthy.”

“I’m safe.”

“I have a friend.”

“I have Jesus.”

These are things I have had to tell myself.  I had many times I would remind myself of the good I had even in the midst of my circumstances. Even if it’s only one thing, I promise you have something good right now.

Don't be ashamed of where you are. In the struggle or on the other side, you own it. You keep working toward improving yourself and your situation. Do not let anyone guilt you for successes, big or small. We need more people like us who can overcome and see the world through a lens of gratitude instead of envy.