Do You Beleive The Lie?

Slung over the arm of the couch with my bare feet swinging, I sat reviewing my 3^rd grade report card with my dad. My dad said, “Good job Sis!” My teacher had told my dad that I was very bright, but very scatterbrained. He told that story to me and chuckled, I giggled too, but it stung just a little. I remember that lie, like yesterday.  Not that I needed years of therapy or resented my father or my teacher, but that little lie is like tiny streaks of water on a sandcastle destroying the delicate shape.  The truth is I have an attention problem.  I am fascinated by so many sparkly things in every direction. I notice everything!   If one really catches me, I can dial in.  They probably would have labeled me with A.D.D.  if I grew up in this generation.

We all have lies we believe, “you’ll never amount to anything,” “You’re such a liar,” “Your sister never did this,” “You should be ashamed of yourself,” “You can’t hold onto your money” “You deserve what you got, “or anything with the words “always” or “never.”   I don’t know what your lie is, but we need to identify, search out and replace it with truth.

Lies come from a place of frustration and the slip of tongue most of the time, rather than from someone who has actually thought about steering someone in the right direction and carefully chose their words.  Yet...we take that lie out of the box now and then and believe its power.  I find it no coincidence that the Devil, himself is called the Father of all lies.  Here’s a few things I know about believing lies after watching people live and if I’m honest, with even myself.

·         Believing a lie shuts down productive living.  After all, if you “always” act a certain way or “never” do something right then why bother?

·         Believing a lie, clouds the truth.  If I told a friend she looked fabulous, but she believes the lie she is fat, she’ll never believe the real way I see her.

·         Believing a lie controls our actions.  “Nobody ever listens to me, or no one understands me.”  You can watch a person overtime begin to shut off their feelings and communication because they believed the lie.

·         Believing a lie produces shame and guilt.  Do we really deserve all that happens to us? (I’m not talking about consequences) Or is it because we live in fallen world and bad things can happen to good people.

Let me tell you a little what truth does:

·         It can set you free - (John 8:31-32) I need that daily.

·         It leads you to the Father (John 14:6) Oh how I want to know Him more and more.

·         It teaches us how to live (Psalm 25:4-5) Finally, Someone to tell me how to do life!

·         It helps us to worship in the Spirit (John 4:24) It’s hard to worship when you don’t believe your value

·         Love rejoices in it (1 Corinthians 13:4-6) Who doesn’t like happy love?

·         Grace seems to always accompany truth (John 1:14) We can’t have enough of that in our lives.

When I read about the truth of the word, I realize that I am not scatterbrained and I do have the ability to stay focused.  I am not stupid but empowered to love and do many things all at once! Not everyone can do that!  You see how a little act of truth goes such a long way.  When you hear that little lie in the back of your head taunting you to give up, or believe it and shut life off, apply Truth to the situation.  What does the Author of all Truth have to say about where I’m at?  I bet He has lot to say about you and me AND He’s not frustrated and not just throwing out His words.  His words are intentional and kind and cause us to grow.
 

Just Take a Deep Breath!

       Feeling a bit worn down?  Stop…Take a deep breath in.  Watch your stomach rise. Hold it… Slowly let it out, pursing your lips.  Repeat a few times. 

The exercise of deep breathing is a relaxation technique I teach in some of our evidence based classes for chronic disease or chronic pain self management. Could there be something more to the calming effect of moving air in and out of our bodies?  I believe there is because if you just took a breath, you’ve called upon the name of God- YHWH.  What?     Literally, the name of God is breath.

When Moses asked God what His name was, he replied,”YHWH.” (Exodus 13:13-15)   (We’ve made it into Yahweh) but the original text looked like this:

     יהוה  (Yod Heh Vav Heh)

Yod, rhymes with “rode”, which we transliterate “Y”

Heh, rhymes with “say”, which we transliterate “H”

Vav, like “lava”, which we transliterate “V” or “W”

He rhymes with “say”, which we transliterate “H” 

     Jewish scholars have said that the letter YHWH make breathing sounds. Without any vowels they are aspirated consonants in the Hebrew alphabet. (Rabbi Arthur Waskow) In the Siddur, (Jewish prayer book) it says: "Nishmat kol chai tivarech et SHIMCHA." ("The breathing of all life praises your Name.") For the Breathing of all life IS Your Name. Over the years we added an A and an E to make the word Yahweh. 

     I’ve been meditating on this subject all week. What if God’s name=the sound of our breathing? How BIG God becomes in our lives and in our world. And what does this mean? Here are some random thoughts that have been rolling around my head: 

•  If God’s name is the breath of life – it means God is intimate and moving in us. When we can no longer speak his name on earth (breathe), we must leave our temporal home. On the flip side, when a new born babe is about to take in that first breath- the room waits for it, we wait to hear God’s name. The first cry excites a room like no other.
• Our intimate God has purposely excluded age, race, culture, language to define who can speak to Him. (its not just a Hebrew word) He chose to use the one thing we all need to exist- our breath to communicate. He is the God of us all and we are all equal in His sight. 
• Expand the thought of breath=God’s name and the bigger God gets. He is God of all – he encompasses all life-forms! Trees breathe, animals breathe and so on. Now step into the earth breathing. It does! Check this out: : http://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2381764/Watch-Eart How about the universe? God’s breath is everywhere! 

  Perhaps breathing is a little more like praying?

• Accelerated breathing with pain or stress- God’s name is rapidly repeated YHWH, YHWH
• Shallow quiet breathing: The peace of God accompanies His name, YHWH
• Labored breathing: the God of strength and power rides on His name with each huff and puff –YHWH!
• Gasps of air through tears: We cling to and gulp down the comforting pacifying YHWH … YHWH …. YHWH.

      In days ahead, I will be the delivery room for my grandsons.  I will be touched as both my daughter and daughter in law breathe that labored breathing through pain and discomfort for they will be calling on the name of YHWH to sustain them and carry them through. They won’t need human words.  He will be right in the middle of the mess.  Even more exhilarating will be the sound of the first cries off the lips of my new grand offspring declaring, YHWH!   They’ll simply be speaking the language of heaven, like the rest of us! 

Five Small Stones

   For the last few weeks, I've watched some dear friends and family really struggle with Goliath life circumstances. Their monsters of uncertainty are just as loud, obnoxious and downright scary as the old character himself. I got to thinking, as big and as nasty as the Philistine giant was, David didn't do anything extraordinary to deal with his “problem.”  He simply used the tools he had and 5 small stones from the river bed to take down the enemy just like he always did.  This is good news for us!
   Goliath taunted God’s people for 40 days.  Forty days is a lifetime to be reminded that something else or somebody is in control of your life. I've read somewhere that the number 40 in the bible is generally connected with the word “trial”-remember the 40 days in the wilderness? That wasn't too fun either. Doesn't it feel that way sometimes when we’re in the middle of a crisis? The Israelites were living out the same dismal life as my buddies are facing; hopeless and with a Chernobyl size mushroom cloud that will plume any second, if intervention doesn't come quickly.  Here’s how the word says it in 1 Sam 17:4-11
   “Then Goliath, a Philistine champion from Gath, came out of the Philistine ranks to face the forces of Israel. He was over nine feet tall!  He wore a bronze helmet, and his bronze coat of mail (a long defensive garment made of interlinked metal rings) weighed 125 pounds. He also wore bronze leg armor, and he carried a bronze javelin on his shoulder.  The shaft of his spear was as heavy and thick as a weaver’s beam, tipped with an iron spearhead that weighed 15 pounds. His armor bearer walked ahead of him carrying a shield.  Goliath stood and mocked the Israelites. “Why are you all coming out to fight?” he called. “I am the Philistine champion, but you are only the servants of Saul. Choose one man to come down here and fight me!  If he kills me, then we will be your slaves. But if I kill him, you will be our slaves!  I defy the armies of Israel today! Send me a man who will fight me!”  When Saul and the Israelites heard this, they were terrified and deeply shaken.”
    Doesn’t it look like this Goliath has every advantage? He had walls of protection in the form of armor covering almost every square inch of his skin that made him seem insurmountable.  Sometimes our giants seem as impossible as this character.

     So how about the David, the guy that supposed to be “the us” in the story?   Haven’t we usually seen the painted picture of a scrappy, thin weakling kid portraying David in our mind?   It feels great to depict him this way because if that story is true, it requires nothing from us but to sit back and watch God work when we find ourselves in harms way. I always thought that was kind of the message of this story. I’ve had to rethink it here this week and I’d like to put a different spin on our theology about the saga of David and Goliath.

 David was not the little sister in Hunger Games, the chosen tribute that had to die for the cause. (Funny, because isn't that the way we feel when we face our giants) David was more like the older sister in Hunger Games – Pick me! Pick me! Look at verse 32 ^“Don’t worry about this Philistine,” David told Saul. “I’ll go fight him!”

     Have you ever looked at your giant that way? If you did, then something was happening in you, much like it did inside of David.  Usually, we let our perception obscure us to something more amazing at work. Maybe standing before a giant requires more from us – a godly perspective for starts.   There’s a hidden truth here: Overcomers understand that the genuine ways to win battles are sometimes concealed by our own misconceptions. Changing our limited perception to God’s perception can alter the entire outcome of the battle.

So what other misconceptions have we believed about this story?  Poor little David, all he had was just a sling and 5 small stones. Let me tell you how lethal David’s weapons were.  The sling that David had was most likely a leather pouch with two long cords attached to it. Rocks were hurled about from it.  This wasn’t one of those little kids’ toys you see at K-mart. Ballistic calculations tell us that the stopping power fired out of David’s sling was equal to the stopping power of a 45 caliber handgun!  David was locked and loaded and was greatly skilled.  He had to be confident going in since he was allowing himself just five tries to nail the only vulnerable part of enemy that was exposed – right between the eyeballs!  Of course we know the story; David hit him right in the perfect spot the first time!

 “As Goliath moved closer to attack, David quickly ran out to meet him.  Reaching into his shepherd’s bag and taking out a stone, he hurled it with his sling and hit the Philistine in the forehead. The stone sank in, and Goliath stumbled and fell face down on the ground.” 

Okay so let’s talk about the big scary monster for a minute. We do know that Goliath was freakishly large; some have even speculated that he may have had a disease of gigantism. The condition of gigantism is almost always due to a tumor on the pituitary glands, I have a good friend with this disease and he has been through a lot.  It can affect vision and makes you feel horrible.  Guess where your pituitary glands are located?  -Right behind the two eyes where the stone sunk in.  God literally allowed that stone to hit the target of the monster that made him so big!  I believe God wants to hit the giants in our lives right where it makes them seem so big!  Right on your monster’s pituitary glands!

     Finally Goliath falls face down.  The Israelites had won the World Series and the roar had to be tremendous.  Their champion had won!  I think the Philistine folks were doing the “Uh Oh dance” when then saw his fatal pose.  Face down is the ultimate cry of surrender -submission to the one who is greater. However, David wasn't finished with him yet; he knew that Goliath needed to be silenced forever.  Ever wonder how many monsters have we given CPR to?   This monster had to be completely dead like our own demons.   I get the dead part, but why in world did his head have to come off seems a little gross. I think God has a thing about heads, funny as it seems.  He talks a lot about us stepping on the enemies’ head in several passages. I've got a clue.  Guess where all your senses are located? - that‘s right, in your head or your face to be specific.  Your senses are your information communicators to the brain. With Goliath’s head cut off, he could no longer listen to plot and plan against David: the enemy’s mouth was shut and he could no longer taunt or defile God, the enemy’s smell and taste was terminated and he could no longer hunt him down or taste victory, the enemy’s eyes could no longer fix in on its prey. The enemy could no longer touch God’s chosen one which includes us!  The monster was truly dead.

     One last thought about this great passage, I find it interesting that when God looked down at David, he told David to just use what he normally used and his own natural talent - Nothing special, just his sling, 5 smooth rocks, his shepherd’s bag and a staff.  The sling would be normally used to ward off enemies or keep the sheep going in the right direction. his shepherd’s bag held his food supply  and nourishment, while his staff was used to round up sheep into a flock, guide the sheep by applying pressure to the one in front and to help pull out a wayward sheep out of a bad situation.

      What’s our take away when we are faced with our giants?  While we are in close communion with God, we should look at what we normally use and ask God, ‘’what is my natural talent that you can use?  What are my 5 small stones? (I’d like the point out here that the number 5 in the bible is the number for grace)  Additionally, remember that David put into the five stones into the bag that usually carried his nourishment. Here’s the math, Grace = Nourishment!  When we go into battle are we taking our nourishment with us, like these stones of grace: love, the word of God, prayer, worship and wisdom of Godly friends?  Isn't it an awesome thought how the bag that carried sustenance, became the bag that carried the fatal blow to the enemy?

     Here’s a closing thought, Have you ever wondered why David took a staff into a battle?  How in the world would help him in the heat of the battle? It’s just another thing to carry. Did he forget because of nerves?  Not a chance!  I think David knew exactly what he was doing.  That staff carried the stuff of dreams and promise in his life.  It was his everyday symbol of direction, leadership and rescue.  He took it into battle because he knew that God would do the same with Goliath.  So, that’s my last question?  Are we taking our staff with us when we standing front of our monster?

     I no longer see the saga of David and Goliath as the story of the weakling boy and the giant.  It is a story of a regular guy like you and me walking in a godly perspective that is capable and confident who does what he always does- gets rid of the enemy.  Facing a Goliath?  You will be more than alright. 

It's all in the story...

“So I extended my arms out REALLY wide and fixed them like a floating airplane because I was jumping off a twenty foot ledge into only three feet of water!  My stretched limbs helped break my fall and that's how I did it!"

      We had heard that story a thousand times about his cliff diving antics. Over the years the higher he seemed to jump and the water became nothing more than a mere puddle he was diving into.  One retelling afternoon I remember so vividly because I looked around the corner (out of eye shot from my infamous storytelling father) and my college son was standing on a chair in kitchen. He was doing an air re-enactment of the famous dive as the story once again unfolded. This was only one of my father’s many sagas.

       Here’s a few other delightful ones: like when he snuck onto the field and played with the Red Sox's as a young boy and filled in for second base, how he played hockey without shin guards, battled cancer, broke so many bones that had to learn to walk again,

almost started a Cuban incident while rescuing an

intoxicated naval officer from a brawl of ten men. Dad had his fingerprint on many of the missile projects for our military. Let us not forget his nature stories and how like in the Avatar movie, he “knew” when something was going on in the forest. He was connected because he spent so much time in the woods of Washington playing  by himself. He was the first to hike up several mountain peaks with his entire family (I always liked that story since I was the youngest and set the record.) built a dam so big as a kid that lumberjacks had to bring in machinery to dislodge it.

Ever watched Second Hand Lions? Well, that was my father.  The older he got, the better he was. However like the story of Second Hand Lions, there was lot of truth in his stories.  He left us a legacy of faith, the importance of family ties, strength, and courage to try things far beyond what we thought possible all through his silly stories. He’s not the only one in the family to share adventures.

 There are also stories from my mother-in-law “Grandma JJ” who has preached in many different parts of the world. She recently got back from Israel and prayed on the volatile Gaza strip for peace. 

A few years ago she went to Columbia at age seventy-five preaching and serving  a very poor and dangerous community. She even had a body guard because it was highly sketchy. Payment for her service of love was a new pair of leather shoes that the community all pitched in to buy.  With tears in her seventy-seven year old eyes, she’ll tell you the value of those shoes.  Stories like my Dad’s and Grandma JJ’s have etched their way into the hearts of our family and have taught us to all be risk takers and to experience all that God has for us.

Not only do stories give those of us listening-worth, but they also provide something to the orator.  For as much as the story teller is dispensing into another generation, the story teller is receiving affirmation of a life well lived. They begin to see themselves as a resource rather than a discarded piece of history.  It underscores the meaning of a full circle. I find it interesting that the stories that have been told seem to be lived out in the new generation of listeners. All my children pursue adventure, harness bold faith and are risk takers. There is not a one of us who looks at the word impossible and sees it as an impasse; the word impossible is really only an obstacle to overcome.  Where do we get that positive mindset? I believe it is from listening to unbelievable and unstoppable stories from those who beleived the impossible.

With our heads tilted to the colored pages of a family story teller in full throttle, we get to salsa dance in their legacy and character for a bit.  It reminds me of a new game for kids called “Skylanders-Swamp Force.”  The action figure is placed on a disc – called “The Portal of Power.”  The action figure comes alive in the video screen once it’s placed in position.  We position ourselves the same way  when we pull the memory of a great story out  and put it on the portal of power in our minds and Voila! We come alive and take on the spirit of the triumphant soul.  We march on knowing we have the same power as those who've gone before us.

 Whether we are on the side of still listening to lengthy sagas or are the one telling the tale, we are all part of a story.  Sometimes the smallest adventure can be the greatest gift if shared to the right  person at the right time. The bible is filled with stories that generation have followed, debated and embraced. The New Testament revists the Old in many parts. Stories make me search even deeper.      

As years go by, I find a novel awaiting with every scan across a room from the smallest dry cat food morsel left by my felines bowl (We claim we're hungry, but are we really?)  to the three brass hindges on the door (Ever wondered why?-two to position and one for strength. Don't we need stabilizers like that in life?) 

 Embracing the notion of storytelling is like the squirrel gathering his nuts for the winter season. My hole in the tree is jam packed with nuggets, to munch on when needed. Whether I like it or not, I'm becoming the new story teller that makes the younger generation’s eyes roll and I couldn't be happier!

Being "That Girl"

 For me, cancer was light years ago. It's great to just enjoy life with all the wonder and magic it brings. My brain swirls with creative ideas, sometimes even keeping me up at night. Talent limitations, don’t concern me anymore, because I realize its fun to step out of my comfort zone. Why not? I faced Goliath so what am I afraid of? I have been surprising myself.  At times, society has not kept pace with me. Little comments like, “How are you doing, Lynn?” “I mean, how are you REALLY doing?” While these comments are coming from the best of intentions, my warrior spirit becomes agitated- Because REALLY, I’m doing FINE! Cancer was four years ago and that train has left depot I took its benefits and left it’s horror at the station a long time ago. My identity is not in cancer. 

    Maybe the reason it bothers me so much is no matter how much I distance myself from “the event,” (if I'm honest), I sometimes internally question my aches and wonder, “is it back?” When I am questioned, I mean, “REALLY” questioned, I smart just a little because maybe they see something in me that is a little off. It triggers an minute identity crisis. There are so many little facets to this recovery thing, even for those who appear to have it together. 

         It’s made me think a little different about my friends and how I, myself  communicate.  How many times do I look at people with drama seeking glasses even if for the best of reasons?  Pretty sure you know what I mean, but let me say it how it usually goes, “Oh there’s that girl- you know the one with the drug addicted son, and that girl who’s marriage has fallen apart, and that girl who cheated on her boyfriend, and that girl who pretended to be a Christian but ended up in jail for stealing, and that girl who lost her kid in the accident.” It's not to judge them, it's just how we've identified them in our minds.What if we just put all that aside and saw the person?  How does God look at us? 

     We humans seem to have long coat of memories of the past hanging in the closets of our mind.  Remember the story of Peter and his name change from Simon?  Jesus tells Simon, that he is now Peter- Peter the Rock. The name change indicated a new identity for Simon but frankly, Simon struggled numerous times with it.  Jesus pointed it out when his actions did not match his new name change. The way Jesus did it made me chuckle just a little.

     Instead of saying, “Come on, Peter step up to your calling.” Jesus strategically just reverts back to calling him Simon in the sentence to drive home the message.  Remember this incident? “And He came and found them sleeping, and said to Peter, "Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour?"  Matt.14:37.  The conversation happens in the garden when Jesus needs him most, yet “Simon” falls asleep instead of praying with him. He wasn't living up to the “Peter” who had walked on the water. I so enjoy Jesus' candor. 

        Haven’t you done that with your kids to send them a message? When our kids took their time to get ready, it would not be unusual for Doug or I to say to them, “Come on Forest!–Let’s get going!” Why would we do this? Because they were driving us crazy being slower than their normal selves!  They always got the message loud and clear.  Jesus was doing the same with Peter. It was a motivational sting perhaps that said “Remember Peter, you are now the Rock!”  Don’t just be someone that hears (this is what Simon’s name meant), but be someone I can build my church on.
,

   Here’s the great news for me and others.  Peter did leave us an example of a life that finally embraced his destiny and calling. In his letter to the churches later in the bible, he introduces himself as Peter, the apostle of Christ. He got it and we can too. When looking at our scars, we must remember we are no longer cancer patients, thief’s, broken or hypocrites. We are now healthy, giving, whole and true. I think when I'm questioned in the future about how I REALLY am, I will simply just reply, "They are making a female version of the Brave Heart movie and I'm the star." It will do two things: get their eyes focused on my victory and send a message to my own brain.  It's time to walk in our destiny and see that destiny in others, because we are not That girl, we are His girl whose name has been changed.  

Ta-Da!

   

Driving down the Oregon coast is a breath taking feat. It’s where the tall pines trees meander through twisting and turning bends in the road. Sometimes the forest is so thick and tall you feel boxed in and overwhelmed in the deep green maze of mystery. Many spots on the side of the thoroughfare host water dripping ferns and moss that oozes out rain water. Gravity joins in the splendor and sends the seeping liquid across the two lane 101 highway making it wet in patches.  Every so often the lighting changes and a curve in the road will provide you a glimpse of the powerful rocky shores of the Pacific Ocean.
    Doug and I drank in the majesty of God’s handiwork as we made our journey to the south. I found myself taking particular interest to where the rivers spilled out of the triangle mountains and finally reached the ocean shores. There must be billions of water droplet’s that make up that river, I thought to myself. I couldn’t help but be impressed at how a single snow flake that fell out of the sky and landed on top of the mountain could be reformed into a single water droplet. Later, it joined others to create a stampede of crystal clear H20 that traveled across waterfalls, rocks, trees, and other debris all the way to it's destination.  In some places, the rivers seemed to just melt into the ocean as if it was exhausted, in other places there was a dramatic show of power as walls of water crashed into each other.

The river’s mouth is what really intrigued me. During the eight hour drive through wind and rain, I kept looking out the window following the watercourse with my eyes hoping to catch at glimpse of where its ending point was. It was a closure thing for me and sort of exciting to see where each of the rivers finished their journeys.

At one of the more striking spots, I rolled down the window and screamed, “Ta-da!” As much as I loved it, the artist who created it was smiling too. I felt a chuckle in his whisper about celebrations and his nod of approval for me to get a little crazy with excitement.

      Even nature joined in the chorus as waves beat against old lava flows that left strange giant rocks protruding out of the shoreline welcoming the new unsalted water.

       Like a meandering river, I was that snowflake almost four years ago that was transformed and made into liquid energy and carried down a rugged path.  The month before our trip to the Oregon coast, I completed my last reconstructive surgery. I have reached the shore as far as operations go and I am filled with gratitude and creativity.  One of the more important things I have learned during my long adventure is to take time to celebrate little victories and say, “Ta-Da!”  Many times during my course of treatment, I found myself incorporating an inner cheering leader section in my brain and heart to get me through rough spots. There was always a big voice in the background with a megaphone that accompanied my own cheering squad, telling me I could make it. It was God himself. He would help me to squeeze past blocked passages and send me down tumbling back into the river’s flow to complete my journey.  Now, that I’ve finished this particular race in my life, I feel so treasured. I am honored to stand on the sidelines of my fellow snowflakes and yell out the window – You can do it!   

     There are powerful things about celebrations that we should never forget.

• They encourage and empower us to press on.

• They prepare us for the next battle in life

• They position our spiritual eyes on our heavenly Sustainer

• They rally community and build teamwork especially with those who have traveled down the same path.

• They create laughter which is medicine to the soul.

 

Here’s some advice from someone who’s been there- Don’t wait until the end of your battle to start your celebrations. Divide your big battle into daily battles or even moments.   Celebrate at the end of each day your strengths. I’m not talking about climbing a mountain so you can plant your flag and tell the world you are wonderful, I’m saying climb the mountain and breathe it in and enjoy the view!  Before long you will find yourself at the end of your long journey with your head out the window screaming,

                              “Ta-Da!”

“But thanks be to God, who gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ”    2 Cor. 2:14

 

    

 

 

 

Time Out

   My three year old granddaughter sat in time out, sobbing, “But I want to be good, I want to be good.” I had to turn my head to keep from smiling at her emphatic pleas of self control. We've all been there. Paul says it like this: “For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing.”  If we check closely to what Paul is saying, we see he is talking about “doing” or “do” meaning our actions.  He does not say, “I am not good” The whole subject of this reminds me of a comment my pastor Rex said, a couple of Sunday’s ago about the difference between shame and guilt. Shame attacks our character, it is destructive and can be lasting, it says, “We” are wrong; it is not positive and causes pain. Guilt, however can come and go as we face our failures, help motivate us to make changes, it says what I “Did” is wrong, it can actually be quite healthy as we understand boundaries.

     The whole reason I’m blogging about this issue is what happened to me about a month or two ago.  I was out making my marketing rounds and I had to pull out of a paralleled parking spot. It was a tight fit so back and forth I tried to crawl out.  I momentarily looked down to see if I had written my mileage down and very lightly kissed the car behind me. I pulled forward and looked in my rearview mirror. I didn’t see that I had done any damage, so I moved out the spot and went on my way. 

     As I got about two miles away and I starting thinking, I really should have got out of the car and given the car a better visual check to see if there was damage. I don’t know why I didn't except for the fact that it was barely touched. I was also in a hurry and it would have been hard to get myself back into the crammed area. What happened later in the day would underscore the difference between shame and guilt.

    It started with a conversation later in the evening, I was having with my hubbie, Doug.  I said, “You know, I tapped a person’s car today, but I don’t think I did any damage at all, but I think I should have left a note.” He is a joker, so he gave me a horrified look and said, “You did a hit and run?” “No, no,” I cried, “it was a just a slight bump and I couldn't even see a mark on the other guy’s car!”  Doug continued, “My wife is a criminal.”  “You should have left a note.”  Since I’m usually a goody two shoes, he was really enjoying himself and added, “I don’t know how you’re gonna live with yourself.” He couldn't have been more right. 

    Later that night when he went to bed, my vivid imagination ran away with me. Now I knew he was joking, but shame started creeping in.  I got on the internet to look up hit and runs. Clearly, I had committed a felony and was going to jail.

The area where the incident occurred would have hidden cameras on their building and like CSI they would zoom in on the video files and find my license plate.  My reputation as a Christian was shot, but at least maybe I could start a prison ministry while serving my sentence. Probably because I wouldn’t be allowed to wear my wig in prison, maybe my fuzzy hair would look butch and that might be a beneficial in a rough scene.  My example for my children was permanently marred and our contact would be limited to supervised visits.  Not only had I done a bad thing, but I was now a bad person – see how I embraced shame? My sleep during the night was haunted with whispers of my failure.  When I woke in the morning, there was only one thing left to do – Turn myself in.

     I left for work in the morning and headed back to Ventura for more marketing rounds and to gather the courage to turn myself in.  I hadn't shared a word with Doug about my plans because somewhere deep inside I knew what I was about to do was crazy and didn't want to hear  his input. After a few doctor offices rounds, I headed to the police station.The instructions on the wall at the station told me to pick up the phone to speak to the officer of the day. (Nobody gets in without being buzzed in.)  I’m sure he had a camera to view me in my pink floral blouse and skirt ready to confess my misdoings. I probably was a little different visitor than some of the variety of humans I encountered in the parking lot, in fact, I had rushed past a scruffy guy finishing up his cigarette to get my ordeal over. The horrible person I had become deserved to be in jail.  

Thoughts rushed through my head as to what my husband would think as he posted my bail.  I lifted the grime-filled phone cradle and said, ‘hello officer, I’d like to let you know that I tapped into a car on Loma Vista, but I’m very sure I didn’t make a mark, but I didn’t leave a note” I could tell, he was clearing his throat and he garbled, “well Ma’am – the law states that if you have left a mark or damaged another’s vehicle then you need to leave a note if no owner is present.”  “Did you leave a mark on their car?” I said, “No, I don’t believe so, but I should have left a note.” He said, “Well then, you don’t have to leave a note.” “I can look and see if any vehicle damage has been reported at that address.” I patiently waited and said, “You’re being very nice officer to help me.” (I was kind of surprised since I was expecting the jingle of handcuffs)  After what seemed like an eternity, he returned to tell me that no one has complained about their car at that address. He said, “Ma’am, why don’t you just go about the rest of your day and enjoy it.”  I’m pretty sure I heard a chuckle in his voice.

     Well, can I just tell you I felt like a million bucks returning to my car?  Clarity of my ridiculous self began to reveal reality. I wasn’t horrible after all. Thinking about my journey from the night before, I realized I had really left God out of all of my decisions to rectify my saga; I was the self appointed judge and jury. Shame does this and it had broken my relationship with God instead of bringing me closer to the point of being silly.

    Later in the evening I told Doug what I had done, and he laughed his head off. “You have got to be kidding me?” “I would have found you in handcuffs at the police station?”  "You are nuts!" I told him, “Well, you told me I was a criminal and I just had to make things right, no matter the consequences.” We have come from very different childhoods – me raised by “Ossie and Harriet- “the do good" family and Doug “if you see a cop- run” family. Shame had taken me down an overblown path, calling me evil, tormenting me until I couldn't stand it. 

     Simple spiritual conviction or guilt would have been so much better. I wouldn't have exaggerated my plight and most of all would not have thought of God’s beloved–"me"-as a dumb nut for life.  Looking back I completely laugh at how extreme I went, but I think God was trying to teach me something about the people that I pray for during the day. The message of grace and forgiveness is a powerful tool to the broken that don’t know the difference between shame and guilt.  We want to be good. We really do. The fact is we will blow it from time to time, and we may even find ourselves in time out with God. 

If we listen carefully, we will hear Him say- “yep, you missed that opportunity to shine for me, but it doesn't effect how much I love you. Lift your heads and let’s try it again together- I believe in you!”  See how guilt brings relationship to the front in a constructive way?

    There was more to my granddaughter's story in time out.  While she sobbed, I heard her mother answer her back, “Karis, I love you, You are not bad, you just need to start using your listening ears.”  Maybe we all need to put our listening ears on a little better and like Karis, know that we are loved regardless of our misguided adventures.