Turbulent Faith

Who do I become when I abandon my fears?

An ex-pastor, a church ministry drop-out, a yogi, an impetuous disciple of Jesus, an advocate for the Kingdom, and a writer with a weekly blog that has a tiny tribe of readers.

I will leave a legacy behind for my children; it just won’t be the one I had originally planned.

I have been thinking a lot this week about the Apostle Peter. Mostly because I am SO grateful to read about all the blunders he made during his ministry career and all the setbacks he had on his spiritual journey. It makes me feel more human and less alone in my own discipleship.

This week in particular I have had some noteworthy setbacks, and I have been fighting the opposition with prayer, meditation, scripture, worship, journaling and writing.

As I wrote about in an earlier blog, I am an INFJ-T personality type. This stands for Introverted, iNtuitive, Feeling, Judging and Turbulent. It’s this last part of my personality that caught my attention the most- Turbulent. I looked up the definition and this is what I found:

“Individuals with Turbulent (-T) identity are self-conscious and sensitive to stress. They experience a wide range of emotions and tend to be success-driven, perfectionistic and eager to improve. They are also more willing to make a change if they feel stuck and to spend time thinking about the direction in which their life is going.

Turbulent individuals perform better in certain roles as they push themselves to achieve superior results. Always feeling the need to do more, to have more, and to be more, Turbulent types often forget how exhausting that can be to both themselves and the people around them – but it is entirely possible that this desire to always push themselves just a little further helps many Turbulent types to achieve what they seek to achieve.”

I immediately thought of the Apostle Peter. He was turbulent too. Sometimes it helped him and other times it hurt him. I feel connected to this disciple because I think if I had been walking around with Jesus in real life, I would have done some brave, crazy, exhausting and misunderstood things too, in order to push in closer to my Teacher’s inner circle of friends.

Heck, I already have.

I feel you, Peter. You are my brother from another lifetime.

As we turbulent types will discover, great wisdom comes from epic failure. To learn to be victorious, you must learn how to fail often and well. To be brave is to learn how to allocate and prepare for the high cost of risk-taking.  

Peter took numerous risks in his discipleship to Jesus that cost him dearly. He said some really stupid and dumb stuff, and made some dramatic mistakes that did a real number on his mental and emotional health. He had to hit rock bottom before he could become the rock of the church. In his time with his Teacher he had a whole series of epic fails. And at the same time, he went down a path of learned wisdom faster than anyone around him. He would become qualified to lead through his dramatic failings.

I feel this calling in my own life, to allow my mistakes to propel me forward into the arms of knowing Jesus more fully and leading His people. As I continue to write these blogs, I continue to estimate the cost and the reward for putting my flaws out in a public forum. I have had to repeatedly calculate the cost of exposure and forgiveness. So far, Jesus wins.

So I keep healing through writing. I choose to be vulnerable in a public space because I crave the courage that it takes to do so. I share my process because I believe the world needs more people who are willing to be honest about the things happening to them in real time, not just the old things from way in the past. This is how we forge community, by coming to a place where freely sharing of our weaknesses fosters continual support and genuine love in return.

Peacemaking is only possible if there are people willing to share their struggles and then stick around long enough to receive proper healing.

So how do you respond to a turbulent type? Well, I know from experience what Jesus will do. He will never ask me to stay away from Him until I get it right. He did not tell Peter to contain his larger-than-life, slightly too crazy enthusiasm for ministry. He will not ask you to please keep far away from His home because you are not trustworthy. He will not dismiss you from His table, sending you away in tears to go figure out healing by yourself. When you ask Him for help, He won’t remain silent or perhaps say something that makes you feel like a foolish beggar or a petty annoyance.

If you hear a voice like that, know that it is not your Teacher who is speaking. It’s the voice of broken humanity and flawed human reason.

At his most embarrassing moment as a disciple, Peter took his own Teacher aside and began to rebuke him. Can you imagine, pulling the Son of God aside and saying “Look, now, don’t say things like that, it’s too honest. Nobody says things like that out loud. That was taking transparency way too far. Your ministry is at stake, and your reputation. You are making yourself and all of us look bad, and it’s really going to get you and all of us into trouble. Please keep those particular thoughts just to yourself. You are better off not sharing that part of your story, trust me. It’s going to cost too much to say something as honest as that- be more reserved.”

Yet this is what we tell ourselves so often, isn’t it? We filter out the risky things, the brave and daring things, the honest and vulnerable things, instead telling ourselves that it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s better to be quiet than to risk offense. Don’t say too much, because then people might see the real you and reject who you really are. It might cost your reputation, your vision, your titles, your friendships. You might lose your hard-earned position of authority and respect. You might have to sacrifice the great name you wanted to make for yourself. 

You might have to lay down your dignity and pride.

You might have to walk on water- alone. Through the storm.

Jesus has a response to that voice of broken human wisdom: ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.’” That is exactly what He told Peter when his voice of propriety tried to silence Him.

If your faith in God isn’t a little bit turbulent then your true calling is in danger of drowning in the sea of human opinions.

What Jesus said to Peter is exactly what we need to learn to say to the negative self-talk that tell us to keep our hopes and our dreams and our honesty to ourselves. “Get behind me, Satan.” When doubts fly at you like bats out of hell, you need to tell propriety to get the eff away from your faith. Then you need to drop to your knees and pray.

And you will discover that there is a redemptive quality in the transition from fearing the turbulence to trusting the Rock. In the midst of the refining process, you will hear a voice that sounds like this:

My child, do you passionately love me with your entire being?

This is a sign that you are on the right path and should keep going. Because you will hear this question again and again, once for every time that you deny Him, and every time your answer will be a little bit different. When you reply each time, you will feel a bit more confidence and have a slightly deeper definition of what you really mean by “love”.

But don’t worry about the details. He knows we can’t meet him where He is at because it’s much too overwhelming and the gift is too great to fathom, and so He walks along at our pace and stoops down low to hear our answer and honors our best attempt:

My child, do you passionately love me with your entire being?

“I like to walk with you.”

And a few steps further along the journey, He will ask again:

My child, do you passionately love me with your entire being?

And timidly we might say:

“Yes, Jesus, I do feel affection towards you.”

And by now Jesus is walking so close we can see into his dark brown eyes, and He respects our insecurities and meets with us on our comfort level:

My child, do you feel affection towards me?

And with both relief and longing for more, we can finally answer simply:

“Yes, Jesus, yes, I do”

He will meet us where we are, in the turbulence of our uncertainty and the turmoil of our unfolding journey. He will accept our reservations because the Teacher wants his students to know that this is a question that really needs to be lived before it can be answered. “Do you love me?” The entirety of our life story will be the response.

Peter was asked by Jesus if he loved Him. But he could only give an answer based on his limited knowledge so far. His love was growing, maturing, but it needed more time. And even though Peter was in process, even though he denied knowing his Teacher three times in public, Jesus still made room for redemption. He asked Peter to declare his love to him three times, once for every denial. And then Jesus changed Peter’s name from Simon to Petra, the rock, and chose him to lead the church. Because Jesus saw in Peter a potential to dare greatly, to say the unpopular and crazy things that would change the world.

He knew that this was a man who would jump out of boats into stormy seas and try to walk on water to close the gap. He knew this was a man who wouldn't walk away from storms, he would enter right into them. He saw the way that Peter’s turbulent faith would become a catalyst for radical change when it was understood, properly handled and aimed at the right target.

In Matthew 16:18, Jesus says, “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.”

And so I feel a kinship to my dear brother Peter. I also want to be a rock upon which Jesus builds a ministry. But first I have a lot to learn, to write and to heal. The stories of my mistakes are often in the forefront of my writing because they showcase my own turbulent faith. Without the turbulence, my limited wisdom won’t get me very far.

In our enthusiasm and haste to engage and participate in Kingdom work, Peter and I can tend to endanger our souls and drown our good intentions. We can jump without considering where our feet might land. We can sink right in the exact spot where we meant to stand.

Peter, at the first glimpse of Jesus, abandoned his fears and threw himself over the side of the boat. And it was mere moments before he found himself gathering his fears back onto himself and sinking under the weight of them all. The more he sank, the more he desperately grasped onto the many fears floating all around him.

We are all familiar with this inner conflict – it is very easy in our spiritual journey to walk with our eyes locked onto the pain that we are invariably facing.

‘But when he saw that the wind was boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink he cried out, saying, Lord, save me!’ Matt. 14-30.

In my attempt to get to Jesus I had to first jump out of the boat, completely fail and then cry out for help. I could not walk towards Jesus until I recognized my weakness. I had to completely abandon my fears, even though I was tempted to grasp at them for comfort. I had to open my empty arms to Him instead.

I am grateful to say that when I myself began to sink, I instinctively responded in the way that Peter did – I called out for Help. Immediately recognizing what was happening, I did not fool myself into thinking I could just swim myself back to safety. I realized that I must abandon my fears and not rely on them to hold me up. 

Some of us pretend we are not drowning, when in fact we really are.

And I have had to relearn this many times, again and again. He calls me out upon the water many times over. I have jumped out of many boats in the past 6 months, and nearly drowned just as many times. In fact, just this week there were several opportunities to take the leap that came with ample opportunity to lose my footing. And every time, Jesus was right there with me as soon as I cried out for Him.

He looks in my eyes, holds out His steady hands, and together we walk back to the boat. And as I have realized the damaging cost of my easily misunderstood and misdirected personality type, I have wept in repentance. My turbulent faith is in need of divine instruction and guidance, just like my dear brother Peter. I can’t manage myself without His help.

Because of our identity as beloved children of God, when we realize we are drowning in pain, our inherent right and privilege is to call upon the Spirit for help.

And help from God is usually easy to miss if we aren’t aware that the waves will stop only after Jesus returns you to the refuge of the boat. You still have to walk through the storm to get there- the pain does not cease when He comes alongside. Nowhere in scripture is there a promise that the storm will end when He takes your hand, although sometimes it can and does. But the promise is having Jesus walking alongside us as we continue to move towards victory.

We need to take a walk with Jesus and answer His questions about love. He takes our eyes off the fear, holding our timid gaze within His own steady one, asking us repeatedly if we love Him. He calls us out upon the water.

Although God never expects us to feign ignorance of our suffering, we must not let the pain overwhelm us to the point where we lose sight of the Hope in His eyes. We must keep listening to Him and answer His questions honestly. Focusing our eyes on His own will not diminish the pain- but it will overshadow it with blessed peace because we can accept the gift of truth, that we are the beloved children of God- every single one of us.

We are seen and loved by the Creator of the universe. He takes our face in His hands, looks deep in our eyes so that He sees all the way to our soul, and He speaks this truth-

“Remember what I say about you, my child. I am the authority on your identity. I alone have the final word on your goodness.”

The only way to navigate a successful reentry into alignment with God is to dare to brave the turbulence. And it might cost your favorite things and some precious relationships at the time it happens, but perhaps you will be given a new perspective and a new Love, one which reveals the sacredness of the boat towards which you are headed. You will be able to see something bigger that you didn’t notice before.

And after the refinement, that introverted-intuitive-feeling-judgmental-turbulent, personality can become the rock upon which Jesus builds a ministry.

I may or may not see the fruits of this investment in my own lifetime, but I believe it will be in the legacy which I leave behind me, through my writing, my parenting, my passion for the church, my love for the Kingdom, my obsession with Jesus, my turbulent worship.

My brother Peter and I, we are always making many hasty and emotional choices, jumping in to help with dramatic haste and not thinking about what comes next. But because of that tendency, I have a stubborn love of Christ that compels me to be the first one out of the boat, and I have a determination to walk on water to be with Him. I will always take big risks to be with my Teacher. All else is secondary.

It is the reason I know that I will hear again someday the call to serve in ministry, to take a chance and try again, no matter how close I came to drowning last time. He will call me out upon the water, and I will jump. And I will forgive anything and anyone who gets in the way- never let anybody get between you and Jesus. Forgive them so you can keep walking.

True forgiveness sometimes looks like putting yourself in a position to be offended again, and then choosing not to be. 

Other times forgiveness looks like surrendering your right to be justified by human affirmation. It’s choosing humility and sacrificing pride and standing right in the face of “it’s complicated”. Forgiveness is staring your shame and fear down until it cowers.

Walking on water is staying in the circumstance even when nobody would blame you for turning away, and most think that you should. You stand and face the hard forgiveness and stick it out for the long haul, when the healing gets really tricky. You stand there as long as it takes, no matter what, until God calls you out in peace and joy.

This is where true restoration can begin.

I believe that He can redeem my story through the lessons I am learning, because of my willingness to show up and let myself be seen. Because I am open to risking my dignity and denying my absolute right to get even- or, even easier, to walk away, to run, to hide.

I could just stay in the boat, or even better, not even get in at all and remain on the shoreline. But then, how would I encounter the Savior in all His terrifying glory? If Jesus could build His church on a turbulent personality like Peter’s, then surely he can use a broken and brazen person like me to serve His church.

“Here is the secret to all Christian ministry. If you are going to do any single solitary thing as a follower and servant of Jesus, this is what it’s built on. Somewhere, deep down inside, there is a love for Jesus, and though (goodness knows) you’ve let Him down enough times, he wants to find that love, to give you a chance to express it, to heal the hurts and failures of the past, and give you new work to do.” –NT Wright

Yes, Jesus, give me new work to do.

The kind that breathes life into Your church. The kind that integrates my gifts into my community and produces abundance. The kind that brings me joy and allows me to say “Yes, Jesus, I passionately love and trust You with my entire being. Let’s go do this thing together.”

We are all in the boat at one time or another. To everyone the storm looks different, but to all of us it is an opportunity for a leap of faith. When the Kingdom comes, all this jumping out of boats will be more than worth it. The storm will make complete sense to us on that day. Until then, plan on hitting a lot of turbulence. It’s going to be a rough walk, my friends. There will be some doubting, some drowning, some crying, some questioning, some epic loss of dignity and pride, a completely broken heart- remember to keep your eyes on His. 

You are a beloved child of God, a never-ceasing spiritual being with an eternal destiny in God’s great universe. Get in the boat, jump, tread water, pray hard and then call to Him for help with empty arms open wide.

Who do I become when I abandon my fears?

A yogi, an ex-pastor, an impetuous disciple of Jesus, a church ministry drop-out, an advocate for the Kingdom, and a writer with a weekly blog that has a tiny tribe of readers. An INFJ-T personality type- Introverted, Intuitive, Feeling, Judging and Turbulent.  A person like Peter, who became the rock upon which Jesus built His church.

I will leave a legacy for my children, it just won’t be the one I had planned. It will be better- it will be Divinely inspired and co-authored with Christ, because I have dared to get in, sail out, jump and brave the storm just to be close to Jesus.

I have dared to walk back with Him and answer His hard questions about love.

Thank you, dear reader, for walking with me here today.

With Gratitude,

Rebecca

To learn more about my personal story, click here.

Forgiveness and White Roses

I forgive myself daily. I extend grace to my entire being over and over again, for big things and for small things. 

To run away from suffering is to miss many great blessings, for when we suffer for our bold faith, this is when the Spirit comes more fully upon us. 


And so I remain in the tension and I fight for my spiritual gifts. And in the battle, I often make mistakes- but none of them are fatal, because I have learned to have compassion on myself. This is because I love who I am, and this is how you treat one that you love. 

How, then, am I unable to so freely and repeatedly give that same grace and forgiveness out to others, the ones I am called by God to love?? 

The only word I know for this type of behavior is hypocrite. And I don’t want that label. So I immediately grant myself forgiveness- and lots of grace. Which begs the question I already asked. And the discussion with myself about this is cyclical. Which is why I turn to guidance to break the cycle. Before I write, I read.

“I was extremely hurt but denied it, even to myself. I would spend hours trying to figure out how all this could happen to me. I was in shock, numb, and amazed. But I suppressed these thoughts and put on a strong front when in reality I was weak and deeply injured.”

I sit in my backyard on a patio chair, book in one hand and a pen in the other. I am reading a work by John Bevere which was a gift from a mentor and friend of mine. Every time I come to a line like this one, I underline and hastily scribble notes in the margin before I forget my first impression.

This part of the book is getting good. Really good. And very hard to read.

“Months went by. Everything seemed dry, my ministry was stale, my prayer closet was lonely, and I was in torment. I fought devils daily.”

Yep. I feel you, bro.

I sit back, lower the book into my lap, and contemplate the atmosphere around me. The chair squeaks in protest as I recline back just a bit in order to get a better view of the rising slope behind my yard. There are those stupid pine trees, the ones I am worried about being a fire hazard, but which make the most delicious sound when the wind blows through them. When a breeze moves through their branches, I close my eyes and imagine I have been transported to a mountain hillside. I breathe deeply, open my eyes and return to the book at hand.

“I thought all the resistance was because of the call of ministry on my life, but in actuality it was the torment from my unforgiveness. Every time I was around this man I came away feeling spiritually beat up.”

The torment of unforgiveness. Oh. Something resonates inside my soul.

I lower the book again and observe a bed of white roses that stand tall and proud, just beyond my reach as I sit in my patio chair. They remind me of a time when I used to bring gifts to anyone who needed encouragement. Sometimes my gifts were money, gift cards, medicine, notes, vitamins, care packages, written prayers, meals, snacks, tiny plants or white roses…

Today I refrain from giving, because I am now in need of receiving. It is a disciplined season of fasting from service so that I can make room for the consumption of grace.

“Then came the morning I will never forget. I was sitting on the deck on my backyard praying. ‘Lord, am I hurt?’ I asked. No sooner had these words left my lips when I heard a shout deep in my spirit: ‘Yes!’ God wanted to make sure I knew I was hurt.”

I underline, scribble some words in the margin, then stop to look around. The sunshine is warm on my feet, which are propped up on another patio chair. I look out over the tall hill which rises up from the edge of our property, observing all the green plants and the massive weeping willow which stands halfway down from the wooden fence at the top. I watch a late morning hiker and his dog make their way rapidly across the trail above me, and shush my German shepherd when she sounds off the alarm.

“It’s just a man, it’s just a person. It’s OK, he’s only passing through on his walk.”

My shepherd looks at me doubtfully, gives a few snorts in protest, then goes to lie down beneath the bed of white roses. She watches me from there with her dark contemplative eyes while I continue to read.

“’God, please help me get out of this hurt and offense,’ I pleaded. ‘It’s too much for me to handle.’ This was exactly where the Lord wanted me—at the end of myself. Too often we try to do things in the strength of our souls. This does not cause us to grow spiritually. Instead, we become more susceptible to falling. The first step to healing and freedom is to recognize you are hurt.”

More underlining, some highlighting, more words scratched in haste. I hear the breeze in the pine trees but I don’t savor it now because I am so captivated by the words on the page.

“Often pride does not want us to admit we are hurt and offended. Once I admitted my true condition, I sought the Lord and became open to His correction. I was ready for the bonds of bitterness to be broken and to be free from oppression.”

I pause here, because I need to contemplate the words I have read. Why does it speak to a deep place in my soul, where it resonates with the same transporting power as the wind in the pines?

“A few days later I was attending a church service. The man who had offended me was there also. I watched him from the back of the church and began to weep. ‘Lord, I forgive him. I release him from everything he has done.’ Immediately I felt the burden lift. I had forgiven him. What relief flooded me!”

I put the book down on the patio table and stand up.  I shake my head and wonder, “But what about relapses, setbacks? There are so many! No. Forgiveness is not that easy. Forgiveness is not so simple.”

I go inside and look for a distraction from my thoughts- dirty dishes will do nicely.

Too often we try to do things in the strength of our souls.

While I am cleaning them, the view from my window is the white rose bed. My dog has gone, but the roses remain exactly the same. I glare at them and they glare back at me in protest. They demand a reckoning. My thoughts go scattered in many directions while I scrub with soap and warm water. And I compose a prayer to God in my heart…

Jesus, I tried.

Forgiveness is hard and feels unfair.

And now I feel that sense of urgency, when fear becomes a currency.

I am here in my kitchen dreaming about victory.

Why is this taking so long?

I would stand here and wash dishes all day if I thought it would help.

Does it help?

I have rebuked the devil, I have pleaded the blood, I have claimed the promises.

Where do I go from here?

I need a task to do.

So I am washing dishes in the sink.

Leaning over, scrubbing with soap and water, cleaning.

I can see my reflection in the window in front of me, white roses in the backdrop. A faded version of myself, projected against the bright white petals on the other side.

I am thinking, not really present in the kitchen but somewhere else instead. In my mind am sitting with You and confessing my broken heart.

But there is such a stubborn hard place between us, a million miles.

I am the one who put it there, and I am the one who keeps it.

When I pray in Your healing power, I feel like a warrior princess.

When I try to heal all by myself, I just feel small and helpless.

I must have prayed for freedom a thousand times. 
Jesus, I'm trying.

Dishes and soap and water.

I have a cup in my hand, I am turning it over and over under the faucet.

Cleaning this dirty cup from the inside out.

From the inside out, healing will come.

From the inside out, offense will be defeated.
From the inside out, forgiveness will spill forth.

Stop striving, beloved.

Be still.

As I am looking at my reflection, I am filled with self-righteous anger.

And anger is a sign of pain, and offense is a defense mechanism.

My hands stop scrubbing, I pause in mid-action.

I look at the white roses straight on thought the glass, and see them watching me.

Hope is fragile but it always leaves a remnant.
But if we run from the fight, we will miss it.

And anger is a sign of pain, and offense is a defense mechanism.

Stop running from your unforgiveness. 
Turn and face it.
Look for the remnant.

My spirit calls to Jesus, and I invite Him in, and so He rushes across a million miles of cussed stubbornness to be close to me.

Helping me to remember how it felt when I first fell at His feet.

You bowed down at My feet, you called Me beloved.

Meet with Me there again. Call on MY power.
I am your Teacher.

My prayer rises up out of my soul, going up and up into the sky, rising to the Son.

…Dishes done, I dry my hands and return to my book outside. Now it’s just me and the white roses and the hard words on the page, with nothing in between. The fresh air rushes into my lungs as I breathe deep.

I open up the page which is already marked up in so many ways. I continue to read where I left off.

“But this was only the beginning of my road to recovery. In my heart I had forgiven, but I wasn’t aware of the extent of the wound. I was still vulnerable and could be hurt again. It was just like recovering from a physical injury. I needed to exercise, to strengthen my heart, mind and emotions to prevent any future injuries.”

My dog barks again at another hiker, but this time I don’t even bother to correct her because I am so engrossed in the words that come next.

“Occasionally I still had to fight off some of the same thoughts I’d had before I forgave. I rejected these thoughts as soon as I noticed them and cast them down- this was my exercising or striving to stay free. A few months went by. It was a training period in which my heart was exercised and strengthened. During those months I seemed at times to be getting nowhere. In fact, I wondered if I had grown worse. Finally I asked the Lord how to keep these thoughts from drawing me back into unforgiveness. I knew He desired a higher level of freedom for me, and I did not want to live the rest of my life holding offense at arm’s length. The Lord instructed me to pray for the man who had hurt me.”

I laugh out loud- of course. How Christian, how clichéd. I had also prayed in this way, and yet here I was still seeing the whole world through the same old filter of pain, listening to the same tape of offenses playing over and over in my head.

 This book was not offering me anything I had not tried yet. I refuse to look at the white roses, because I do not want to remember all the acts of service I did in ministry. I do not want to remember how I loved, how I served. I want to harbor resentment, to cherish my offense, and I cannot do that if I remember how good it felt to give of myself so freely.

“My soul was definitely in sorrow. But God began showing me how to pray for this man: ‘Pray the very things for him that you want Me to do for you!’ And so my prayers totally changed. It was no longer a dry, monotone voice without a hint of passion, out of obligation asking God to ‘Bless him, give him a good day, help him in all he does, amen.’ My words became infused with life, crying with passion and saying things like ‘Lord, reveal Yourself to him in a greater way. Bless him with your presence. Let him know You more intimately. May he be pleasing to You and bring honor to Your name.’ I prayed for him what I wanted God to do in my own life." 

Oh.

This was something I had not done yet. This was different. This was new. This was hard.

Ask God to give to someone else the very things I coveted for myself? Open up the possibility that another could be blessed in the way that I wanted for myself, through the power of my own prayers? Could this be why my idea of forgiveness was so hard to achieve, because it came from a selfish place? 

Something resonated deeply in my soul- there was a cry from way down in my spirit. I looked at the white roses and they nodded their budded heads gently in the breeze.

I lean forward to pick up some of the petals that had fallen onto the brick. I rub them between my fingers and feel their soft, cool smoothness. I continue to hold them while I read more.

“I had gone from praying for him for my sake to praying for him for his sake. I no longer had to fight the pain, nor was I critical of him.”

To pray for another for the sake the other and not myself- this was a nourishing concept to my hungry mind. To ask God to bless the other in the way that I myself wanted to be blessed- this was a spiritual practice that would take discipline over the course of many days. To give away, in prayer, my blessings instead of just my forgiveness- this could only happen with the help of divine Spirit.

A short ways further down the page and I found the exact words I needed to persuade me that this author knew what he was talking about.

Because I want all these words to be my own:

“When I first met that man he could do no wrong in my eyes. I saw no faults in him I loved him because I thought he was perfect. But when I was hurt, it was hard to love him. It took every bit of faith I had. Now that I have gone through this restoration process and have been healed, I love him with the same intensity as when I first met him, in spite of any faults. It’s a mature love. It is easy to love those who can do no wrong in our eyes. That’s simple love. It is another thing to love someone when we can see their faults, especially when we’ve been the victim of them. The love of God was maturing me and strengthening my heart thought this process. My heart was exercised to stay free from offense. I was on the sure road to recovery. I would not trade that experience and am thankful for the growth it brought to my life.”

I grab my pen and my highlighter and go to work. When I am done, I write ‘AMEN, YES I WANT THIS! Help me Jesus!’ in all the margins. I grab a sticky note and mark the page. I rise to my feet and look around me again.

The greens look greener, and the whites look whiter.

I stand there with a book of offense in one hand and white rose petals in the other. A symbolic picture of our Christian tension in this world.

We all stand and wait for deliverance from unforgiveness with fear clenched in one hand and a remnant of hope held tightly in the other. 

Jesus teach me how to love like You.

I smile at the white roses now because I have a divine power- I can pray my coveted blessings over someone else. This is the persuasive abundance I needed today.

When I come across 1 Peter 4:12-13 I know I have found a precious treasure, and so I write it in my personal journal because I will need it for later, when I am learning how to pray:

“Beloved, do not think it strange concerning the fiery trial which is to try you, as though some strange thing happened to you; but rejoice to the extent that you partake of Christ’s sufferings, that when His glory is revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy.”

A handful of white rose petals. A remnant of hope. Forgiveness is calling.

When I drop to my knees at the foot of Your cross to pray, I come empty except for a small, soft, glowing hope.

I meditate, I fall to my knees, I lay prostrate before the cross, I practice centered prayer, I dwell on Your Presence, I worship in solitude.

I want to win this victory with You Jesus. The words of John Bevere bolster my courage.

 “Hard places will always come in our journey with the Lord. We cannot escape them but need to face them, for they are part of the process of becoming perfect in Him. If you choose to run from them, you will seriously hinder your growth. Recovery is your choice. Some people get hurt and never recover. That is their choice. Yes, it’s true that there are some offenses that will not go away easily or quickly. You will have to work through them, striving to get free. But in that process you will grow and mature. This glorifying is to the degree that you allow Him to perfect His character within you. So don’t look at the offense. Look at the coming glory.”

Someday I will give gifts of white roses again, when this long season of maturing is at its completion. Until then, I can practice by giving gifts of prayer. And I will continue to sit beside the rose bed and read the words of others who have been here too and can help me along the path to freedom.

And while I am reading, underlining and jotting notes in the margin, the white roses will be peeking over my shoulder and nodding their heads in silent agreement, dropping remnants of white petals all around my feet.

And forgiveness will heal.

Thank you Jesus.

Amen.

Rebecca

To learn more about my personal story, click here.

Emerging Advocate

It is time to establish my sankalpa for the evening, the intention formed in my heart and mind to clarify my reason for being on my yoga mat for the next hour. The room is quiet except for the sound of Tibetan bowls humming, the lights are dim except for Himalayan salt lamps. All is tranquil- no kids, no dog, no laundry, no computer, no dishes, no mess, no noise.

I simply want to enjoy my own existence right now.

I am at a yoga nidra class, where a single pose is held in a completely relaxed state for as long as possible, up to an hour. It calms the sympathetic nervous system and focuses the mind on a single thought- the breath.

I breathe You in and out; You are the very air I breathe.

I already know what my sankalpa will be, because I have used the same one often- to simply enjoy my existence. Not to think about household chores, motherly tasks or wifely duties….or blogs. Just to rest in a state of simple awareness of the fact that I am a living being.

I am a child of God with a divine calling on my life.

I have been doing yoga every week for almost two years and it has evolved into a pure form of worship and meditation for me.

I honor You with this yoga practice. I honor myself as well.

Lying in child’s pose on a bolster, I keep my eyes closed and breathe deeply and I go to a safe place that God has given me to remember, a vision of the Kingdom.

The ocean is vast and stretches for miles beyond the highway. It is a bright and breezy afternoon. From my vantage point, looking down, I see a grassy hill that jets out from lower down on the side of the cliff. A small patch of little rolling hills run alongside the water just below the road. There is tall green grass covering these hills, the green blades all blowing to the right side in the salty air, rising and falling again in the breeze. In the midst of the grasses, a thin dirt trail is winding up from somewhere just out of sight. There is a broken brown picket fence that looks worn and neglected.

It is a place that I have never set foot in, and yet it feels incredibly familiar, like home. Like Jesus.

Warm air rises from the damp earth. A single white horse, bright white against the billowing green grass, stands peacefully in the middle of the field. Just one solitary horse, so white that it is almost glowing. Its’ white mane and tail are rising and falling in the salty sea breeze. It tosses it's head every so often, but it remains standing in one place. It seems to be waiting for Someone...

And I can hear my intake and exhalation of breath, and I felt incredibly close to You on my yoga mat. Peace beyond understanding washes over my being. 

I used to pray for other people while I lay here on my mat- I have learned to just pray for myself. This time is set aside for me. It is sacred and holy.

And I enjoy the vision of the fullness and beauty of the Kingdom. This is what Kingdom Peace looks like, and how it feels, physically, emotionally and mentally.

 I breathe You in and out- You are the very air I breathe. 

The air is cool and salty.

I watch the grassy hillside and I feel the sun on my hair and skin. I know that when the Kingdom is victorious, I will return there and that sacred hilltop will belong to me. It will be my own special possession, and I will meet with Spirit there beside the beautiful white horse, and Divinity will embrace me and fulfill my deepest longings.

I try to visit this place whenever I am on my yoga mat, because it is a place that doubt and fear cannot follow.

And as this vision slowly fades, I return to an awareness of my physical pose. I remember my sankalpa, which is to just enjoy my own existence. And I think again about my breath.

I breathe You in, I breathe You out.

And then my thoughts wander, as they will do, to something I remember from earlier in the day- a discovery, and a victory.

I am an INFJ-T. I am an Advocate.

Sensations of gratitude fill my being as I lay there. It is a delicious realization, a deep joy. I have learned so much today about who I am emerging to be, and what my journey is revealing about myself- I am an Advocate.

Rich sensations of happiness fill my being as I lay there on my yoga mat, contemplating this new revelation, this persuasive abundance of self-awareness.

My life coach had recently given me homework, to take a personality test online, which I did dutifully but without enthusiasm because surely it would tell me what I already knew. 

Certainly I know myself and don’t need a test to tell me who I am. As I completed the test, the results appeared which drew my full awareness to the computer screen:

 “You are an INFJ-T. You are an Advocate. This personality type is very rare, making up less than one percent of the population, but they nonetheless leave their mark on the world.”

Oh my. I was immediately intrigued.

 “What sets them apart is that they are not idle dreamers, but people capable of taking concrete steps to realize their goals and make a lasting positive impact.”

Yes to this. Amen. I want this.

 “Advocates are very insightful and have a particular knack for seeing beyond others’ facades, interpreting intent and compatibility quickly and easily, and weeding out those who don’t share the depth of their idealism. Seeing through dishonesty and disingenuous motives, Advocates step past manipulation and sales tactics and into a more honest discussion. Advocates see how people and events are connected, and are able to use that insight to get to the heart of the matter.”

Oh. I would never have been able to articulate that, but absolutely.

“Advocates indeed share a unique combination of traits: though soft-spoken, they have very strong opinions and will fight tirelessly for an idea they believe in. They are decisive and strong-willed, but will rarely use that energy for personal gain – Advocates will act with creativity, imagination, conviction and sensitivity not to create advantage, but to create balance. Egalitarianism and karma are very attractive ideas to Advocates, and they tend to believe that nothing would help the world so much as using love and compassion to soften the hearts of tyrants.”

Strong-willed but reserving that energy for good? Yes.

“Advocates need time alone to decompress and recharge, so do not become too alarmed when they suddenly withdraw. Advocates take great care of other’s feelings, and they expect the favor to be returned – sometimes that means giving them the space they need for a few days. It is most important for Advocates to remember to take care of themselves. The passion of their convictions is perfectly capable of carrying them past their breaking point and if their zeal gets out of hand, they can find themselves exhausted, unhealthy and stressed. This becomes especially apparent when Advocates find themselves up against conflict and criticism – their sensitivity forces them to do everything they can to evade these seemingly personal attacks, but when the circumstances are unavoidable, they can fight back in highly irrational, unhelpful ways.”

This part humbles me. Yes, this was my confession story. This is my weakness, my shame. I have done this to the detriment of relationships, my identity and my dreams. 

I crumbled an entire empire of joyful service because of this character flaw. 

I pause for a moment of silent repentance, and then I keep reading further down...

“They will step out of the overly humble supporting and noncompetitive roles they are often drawn to, and into positions where they can grow and make a difference. Advocates often pursue expressive careers such as writing, elegant communicators that they are, and author many popular blogs, stories and screenplays. They need to be able to exercise their insightfulness and independence, learn and grow alongside the people they are helping, and contribute to the well-being of humanity on a personal level.”

My heart of service for the church. This is my internal programming.

“Few personality types are as sensitive and mysterious as Advocates. Your imagination and empathy make you someone who not only cherishes integrity and deeply held principles but, unlike many other idealistic types, is also capable of turning those ideals into plans, and executing them.”

My determination to push through healing, to write, to serve, to have a ministry to call my own. My dream to be in leadership at a Spirit-filled church. This is me.

“Yet, as an Advocate, you are likely to be easily tripped up in areas where idealism and determination are more of a liability than an asset. Whether it is navigating interpersonal conflicts, confronting unpleasant facts, pursuing self-realization, or finding a life calling that aligns well with your intricate inner core, you may face numerous challenges that at times can even make you question who you really are.”

Ah, yes. This is where I am now, in this moment. This is why I am in yoga….

And my thoughts return to my breath, to my yoga mat. I hear the Tibetan bowls humming in the background. I hear my breathing, in and out, slow and full.

And I think about my emerging identity as an Advocate. I think about my vision of the grassy hill beside the sea, and I try to merge these two pictures into one. 

A single white horse beside me, an Advocate for the Kingdom, and a Man of power and love approaching me in the breeze. 

It is the King, the one for whom I advocate with the power He has given me.

My heart is in my throat and tears sting my eyes.

And I cry tears of gratitude.

In one fluid motion, I step away from the white horse towards him, smiling and bravely holding out my arms.

I close the gap between us, and this is the moment He will heal my emotions.

You tell me this is the time to love.

And my heart is filled with Your joy as I throw my arms around my Savior’s neck and lay my head on his shoulder.

This is the treasure that I discover in my meditation today.

For a moment I am holding You in my arms, and You are holding me.

And I never want to let go, because it feels like the Kingdom has finally come.

And I am Your royal princess, set apart for ministry and leadership, and everything is beautiful and good and right.

This is what redemption feels like.

This is deliverance.

Then the moment is over, and it is time to rise up and go back out into the world, to allow the peace and self-awareness that I have gathered up during the last hour to go with me into my normal routines.

And the space between Him and I widens ever so slightly, to make room for my emerging Advocacy.

I lower my eyes and turn to leave, and I hear the Spirit speaking kind words again. But I can hardly hear the whisper, because I am hurrying home now.

I am filled with emotion and You are all around me now.

So Jesus, I thank You for giving this vision to my mind, a treasure glowing in the dark.

You know that the things my heart longs for are not always congruent with what my soul needs.

I can have selfish ambitions and jealous motives, even on my best and strongest days.

But You are the beauty and hope that stands in the middle of my rawest, ugliest and frailest human self.

You are the white horse of Hope that stands waiting in the refuge of Your Peace.

You are the reason that I am an emerging Advocate in a broken world.

I am honored, I am grateful, I am Yours.

I breathe You in and out, You are the very air I breathe.

I call for peace and reconciliation within myself and within the whole world. For this cause I am emerging as an Advocate.

May all beings be peaceful and happy. 

Amen.

Rebecca

To learn more about my personal story, click here.