Category: FemmeFuel by JMathis

Doubting Thomas Saved My Life

On By femmefuelIn Best of JMathis, FemmeFeatures by JMathis, March 2011 (Luck v. Faith)1 Comment

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By JMathis

I owe my life to Doubting Thomas.

Many historians say, that after being transformed by the life of Jesus, Doubting Thomas traveled to the southern tip of India and spread the word of the Gospel there. It was then that Christianity in India was birthed.

In a land that is over 80% Hindu and 13% Muslim, I come from a lineage of Christians who claim that their spiritual roots can be traced back to these early St. Thomas conversions. Only 2% of the entirety of India is Christian, and I come from that lucky few.

Lucky? Actually, no. Humbled, yes, and brought-down-to-my-knees grateful, that Doubting Thomas didn’t remain a doubter.

This is me speculating, of course, but I don’t think Thomas was always a doubter. I bet the instant Thomas heard Jesus’ message, he knew that this was someone very, very special–someone absolutely worth abandoning his fisherman’s day-job, and someone worth following to the utter ends of the earth.

In many ways, Thomas reminds me of me. It is in my personality and nature for me to believe very easily, fall in love easily, and give you the benefit of the doubt easily. I am not a born skeptic, but rather, one who immediately sees the good in people.

However, it’s not so easy for me to stay that way once the chips fall. When things get shaky, uncertain and scary, that is when my heart fills with doubt. Why did I trust this person? Why did I believe him? Why did I think she knew what she was talking about? Once that doubt hits, I am outta of that situation. I mentally check out of that relationship, friendship or course in life, and I don’t look back.

Thomas could have been like me. The second he heard that Jesus had died, I’m sure he was flooded with thoughts like, “Did I just leave my steady paycheck for a guy that ended up dying at the age of 33?” “Was Jesus a criminal like the Pharisees claim? Maybe he really was here just to stir up trouble.” “What about all the promises that Jesus made? I thought I was going to be part of a “kingdom” where I was going to help “King Jesus” overtake the corrupt leadership of this land, so I could finally be rich, powerful and famous!” With thoughts like these, it would have been so easy for Thomas to say, “Well, I guess Jesus was a good friend while he was here, but dead is dead. The guy’s dead. Gotta move on with my life.”

That would have been my cue to get out of there. And fast. I would have said, “If this guy is alive, he better show his face, and with all the works—the bruises, wounds, holes in the hands, holes in the feet—the whole shebang. In the meantime, I need to make up for all the time I lost in the past three years just hanging around, listening to a lot of nice, but useless stories that I didn’t even understand.”

Maybe Jesus knew this about Thomas and all of the other disciples, and that’s why he reappeared in front of the disciples just one last time right before ascending into heaven. Maybe he knew that Thomas was just vocalizing what everyone else was thinking—“I need to see it with my own eyes, if Jesus is really living, breathing and truly risen from the dead.”

Or, maybe he came back just for Thomas.

Jesus could have easily ascended directly into heaven, leaving Thomas behind in a world of doubt, confusion and eventual disbelief. But, just like the parable of the one lost sheep (Luke 15: 1-7), maybe he came back just for Thomas.

And, do you know why? Because that was in Jesus’ personality and nature—to turn around and reach out, even to just one lost sheep. One little, whiny, dazed and confused, lost sheep. And, why? So that once that sheep’s life was changed, that same sheep would go out and tell all of the remaining sheep, that Jesus was the kind of person who went out of his way, to save the inconsequential life of one lost sheep.

Thomas didn’t stop being a doubter just because he suddenly came to his senses, or became enlightened. Thomas stopped being a doubter because Christ in his risen form, came to Thomas personally and showed Thomas his bruises, wounds, holes in the hands, holes in the feet—the whole shebang.

Was Thomas lucky? No. He was probably humbled, and brought-down-to-his-knees grateful, that Jesus made one final pit-stop so that foolish, silly Doubting Thomas wouldn’t remain a doubter. Humbled, and brought-down-to-his-knees grateful, that Jesus delayed seeing his Father, just to go after one lost sheep like him.

It took seeing the bruises, wounds, holes in the hands, holes in the feet—the whole shebang, for Thomas to believe. Once he believed, his life was transformed and he felt compelled to tell the world about Jesus and to fulfill The Great Commission—even to places like the uttermost parts of the earth…places like India, where it is almost statistically impossible to not be Hindu.

What are you waiting for? Are you waiting to see the bruises, wounds, holes in the hands, holes in the feet—the whole shebang, for you to believe? What will it take for you to follow Jesus’ example, and reach out to that one lost soul?

Don’t stay a Doubting Thomas. If Thomas had remained a doubter, I wouldn’t be writing this to you today.

Am I a follower of Jesus today because I am just lucky?

No.

It’s because Jesus made one final pit-stop for Thomas, which changed Thomas’ life in such a radical, life-transforming way, that Thomas went into the most remote regions of the world to reach out to one of my great-great-great greats.

Jesus made one final pit-stop just for me. Am I lucky? No. Just humbled and brought-down-to-my-knees grateful.

The Courage to Fight for a Marriage

On By femmefuelIn Best of JMathis, FemmeFeatures by JMathis, LoveLeave a comment

By JMathis

So this year, I’m working on my marriage.

Honestly, this sounds about as appetizing to me as a root canal, or worse yet, an appointment with the “gyno doc”.

It’s just that it was one of those things that I never had to do before, and so, I never learned how to do it—much like parallel parking. For so long, married life was relatively smooth, effortless and easy, all to the tune of some cool, sultry bossa nova. Lazy weekends of sleeping in, taking naps, giggling, making pancakes, eating pancakes, goofing off, going out with friends, staying in and cuddling…days spent just loving and being loved. For close to six blissful years, our biggest problems were: Pottery Barn or Crate and Barrel? Beach or a bike ride? Sushi or Thai?

Whenever I heard about people who had marital problems, I shrugged it off thinking, “It must be that she married the wrong guy.”

Then, the kid came.

A Category 5 hurricane shooting magical fairy dust, leaving lovesick victims and casualties in her wake. A Nor’easter that violently blankets the world with a deluge of snow, but whose pure beauty beckons you to make memorable snow angels in its aftermath.

Overnight, marriage became work. Not work like, “Hey, would you like for me to add an echinacea boost to your Berry Berry Yummo Smoothie Blast?” But more like work on a chain gang—drawn faces, raccoon eyes, orange jumpsuits sweatpants:

“That’s not how you sterilize a bottle!! What are you, an idiot?”

“I haven’t left the house in 3 weeks, and you’re planning a boys’ weekend?”

It was actually hard to remember that there once was a time where there was no fighting. Now, every minor thing was elevated to critical mass, with all guns blazing.

“Dirty diapers don’t go in the %^$#@* trash! They go in the Diaper Genie™!”

“If you keep letting her sleep in our bed, she’ll never leave!”

“She’s two. She doesn’t need to know what orange soda tastes like, you moron!”

These parenting fights started out as trivial, but they soon erupted into full-on doozies over the division of labor, finances, sex, free time, spirituality and child-rearing. Nothing was sacred; nothing was off limits.

I was forced to eat my words. Did I marry the wrong guy, or was I letting the perfect guy slip away from me?

We were watching our marriage careen out of control while simultaneously free falling into outer space, farther and farther away from each other. We tried to psychoanalyze ourselves and attempted to intellectualize solutions for our post-baby woes. Yet, we still couldn’t shake the feeling that we were trapped in a trippy David Bowie song, with no way out.

Though I’m past one hundred thousand miles, I’m feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go
Tell my wife I love her very much, she knows
Ground control to major Tom, your circuits dead, there’s something wrong
Can you hear me, major Tom?
Can you hear me, major Tom?
Can you hear me, major Tom?
Can you…
Here am I sitting in my tin can far above the Moon
Planet Earth is blue and there’s nothing I can do

We hung on in this purgatory for quite sometime, not sure whether our marriage was just hitting a temporary rough patch, or whether this had become our “new normal”.

Whatever it was, we finally conceded that it was too big for us to handle. We put down our pride, and instead of continuing to talk ourselves into circles, we have started praying—even praying with the help of counselors and spiritual advisors. This time, though, we are praying differently than we have in the past. We’re praying for courage. Courage to fight for this marriage, rather than to give in to forces that aim to tear us apart. Courage to ask God for directions, and admit that we lost the map. Courage to find our deeper purpose as a married couple.

Finding out that we have a “deeper purpose” is turning out to be quite the pivotal turning point for us.

Luke 12:48 (New International Version)

“…From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

I think for a long time, my husband and I fell into the lull of believing that we were just companions for each other—even best friends. Someone to stroll down Lincoln Road with on a balmy night, someone to catch a local folk band with at the Van Dyke, someone to grab a beer with at The Abbey to decompress over a hectic day. It didn’t really register that the way we complemented each other, was because we were specifically brought together for a much greater mission in life.

We’re starting to realize that we have been given much, much more upon the melding of our lives together. We’re beginning to understand that our destinies are tied up in one another, and those of our amazing daughter’s and her future children. We’re seeing that God needs us to stay intact, not just for each other, but for us to work together in unison in helping Him to reach out to the dying and the lost. We’re learning that putting God’s love before our own, spins us off into unknown territory that can often be scary and trying; however, with our combined faith, we’re finally learning to love at a supernatural level.

This year, I’m working on my marriage, because God is demanding more of me and my husband than to just be latte buddies. God needs him and me on the frontlines, showing love to widows, orphans, the homeless, the poor and to any and all in need of God’s restorative touch. We have been given to each other, to do even exponentially more for God than what we could ever achieve singularly, on our own. “From the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

This Valentine’s Day, take a minute to pray for my marriage. I’ll be praying for yours. Let’s keep ourselves accountable and focused on our respective roles in the much, much bigger picture of mankind: the eternal love story of God’s life-saving, redemptive and transformative power to all of creation.

Loving Yourself When You Don’t Feel Beautiful

On By femmefuelIn FemmeFeatures by JMathis, LoveLeave a comment

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By JMathis

Ecclesiastes 3:11 (New Living Translation ©2007)

“Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end.”

I don’t feel beautiful when I have my period.

In fact, I find myself feeling downright unlovable during this time. Plus, I’m not exuding that much love towards others during my “ladies’ days”, as all this self-loathing makes me grouchy and surly towards anyone who crosses my path that week (yeah, I admit—not my greatest WWJD moments). Every cycle just seems doomed to present itself to me in exactly the same way:

1)      “Huh??? My period is here?” (This is despite the fact that I am as regular and consistent as the rising and setting of the sun each day.)

2)      “What is on my face, and why is it growing a pair of eyes?”

3)      “To heck with my diet. Find Ben and Jerry and get them here—STAT!”

It is at this point that I feverishly calculate on my abacus-like fingers if my weekend plans to drink Bloody Marys will be ruined by the arrival of, well, Bloody Mary, herself.   

While New Agers would love to see menses as a time of cleansing, rejuvenation and meditation, it’s very hard for me to focus on all of that hooey when my jeans won’t zip up that week. Frankly, loving myself is just not on the menu during my period, especially when my face is covered in acne-fighting gunk and chocolate syrup goop (cut to pity-party scene from Bridget Jones’s Diary, where Renée Zelwegger is singing “All By Myself”… “Don’t Want to be…All by Myyyy…Self…Anyyyy…morrrre!!!”)

Yet, without fail, the day after my period is done, there is an extra spring in my step (translation: doing the Running Man in front of my bathroom mirror) and a special song in my heart (“Oh yeah, Destiny’s Child!! Gimme some of that Independent Women!!”). The cramps and road rage from three days before are just a distant memory. I find that I’m in love again…with myself. (“Hey, baby, you come here often? Why yes, I live here–remember??”)

Bring on the weekend!! I feel beautiful once more! The birds are chirping, the sun is shining and I’m ready to embrace the world with open arms!



“Now, why can’t I just feel this way all the time?”

I guess I’m just one of those ingrates who will never fully appreciate menstruation as an expression of God’s brilliance in masterfully crafting a woman’s body for the role of procreation. In fact, I will always have some choice words for Eve around the same time every month (suffice it to say, *love* is not one of those four-letter words I scream at her).

However, when life starts beating me down, when my love for all of my quirkiness turns into disappointment over all of my failures, and when everyday starts feeling like another day “on the rag”, it is then that I must remember that God loves me madly and passionately, and that I am fearfully and wonderfully made in His image. According to Psalms 139:14, everything that God makes is breathtaking. So, guess what? That makes me beautiful, even when I don’t feel beautiful and no one else thinks I’m beautiful. That makes me lovely, even when I don’t feel loved and no one else thinks I’m loveable.

This year, I have to learn to love myself—without criticism, without judgment. This is the year that I choose to see myself the way God sees me, and to love myself the way God loves me. I just have to trust that God’s redeeming love makes all things beautiful in their time. Even me.

Prayer: Lord, I have no idea what you’re about to do in my life this year, but I trust You and I love You beyond measure. Help me not to second-guess Your ways when my world starts falling apart all around me. I know that You are transforming me into something beautiful, even when I don’t feel loveable. Make me beautiful and help me to accept Your all-encompassing love for me. Make my words beautiful so that I can love others around me; make my paths beautiful and let my steps be adorned with Your love; make my life beautiful so that Your love shines through me and brightens the darkness that surrounds me. Make me beautiful like You, Lord. Make me lovely like You.

So Much Can Change Within a Year

On By femmefuelIn Best of JMathis, FemmeFeatures by JMathis, Transform YourselfLeave a comment

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By JMathis

As each year passes, I come to the realization that so much can change within a year. Triumph can turn to despair. Prosperity can turn to lack. Passion can turn to disdain. Peace can turn to chaos. There is the relief of finally receiving a job offer after months of job searching, only to be laid-off four months later. Last one in, first one out. There is the joy of a new pregnancy, followed by the anguish of delivering a stillborn child. How, God? Why? There is the glimmer in your eye when you think you have finally met ‘the one’, just to find out later that he’s trashing you as clingy and desperate at the office happy hour. I thought real men didn’t kiss and tell.

I think back to one such manic year in my life, where I felt the agonizing pain of my first, real heartbreak. I remember being sucker-punched and blindsided by him, feeling that there was no fair warning of the impending hurricane that was about to upend my days and my nights. Crying so much, I felt my core was being ripped to shreds. I envisioned that even my molecular fabric was being crushed and destroyed, cell by cell. February, for me, was the cruelest month, and every Valentine’s heart I saw on display was just a painful reminder that my own heart had been shattered and left for dead. March was the month I gave up Kleenex, since pillows were way more effective in mopping up my tears. April brought with it a blustering rainstorm where I walked three miles in the freezing rain, wheezing and praying to get hit by a car or just succumb to hypothermia.

Then one day, it was October. It was a crisp, fall morning and I distinctly remember humming show tunes from The Sound of Music. (Yes, people, you heard it here first. I am a complete sissy for The Von Trapp Family. And musicals. And Glee.)

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens,
bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens…

I remember sitting in front of my desk, lovingly stroking the keys of my computer. (I know I sound like a loon, but indulge me a bit further.) I searched for the letter ‘A’. Thank you, Lord, for my beautiful friend, Asha, whose smile warms my day.

Doe- a deer, a female deer
Ray- a drop of golden sun…

I searched for the letter ‘B’. Thank you, Lord, for bagels, especially cinnamon-raisin bagels smothered in cream cheese and strawberry jelly. I searched for the letter ‘C’. Thank you, Lord, for Christ who saved a wretch like me. And then, it went on and on, letter by letter, with my heart bursting at the seams with thankfulness over how much God loves me. Thank you, Lord, for zebras, because I can’t think of anything else that starts with ‘Z’.

I have confidence in confidence alone!
Besides which you see, I have confidence
In me!!!!!!!!!!!!

After going through the entire alphabet on my keyboard (and singing the entire Sound of Music soundtrack in my head), I realized I was a mess. Sane people just don’t gaze dreamily at letters on a keyboard. Yet, I was a good mess. Not the same mess I was months before, but the kind of warm, gushy, yummy, chocolatey mess you find in the middle of a hot, molten lava cake. The kind of mess that embarrassingly gets all over your fingers and your face, but whoa, is it heavenly. My broken heart was finally healing; not totally healed, but it was healing.

What had happened between February and October? What had changed from the beginning of the year to the end?

Resolve.

The Resolve to live and not die. The Resolve to breathe and brush my teeth every day. The Resolve to say, “Lord, fix me, because I can’t. I just can’t.”

So much can change within a year. This year, let your resolutions be resolute. Resolve to resolve. Resolve to push through fear. Resolve to push through insecurity. Resolve to push through doubts. Resolve to push through anger. Resolve to push through bitterness. Resolve to push through a bad year.

re·solve (ri zälv′, -zôlv′)

1. To make a firm decision about. (God, I put You first this year.)

2. To change or convert. (God, make me more like You.)

3. To find a solution to; solve. (God, I know You have the answers.)

4. To remove or dispel. (God, take away anything that is not of You.)

This year, resolve to resolve. Resolve to heal. Resolve to forgive. Resolve to let go. Resolve to love. Resolve to get messy and resolve to just trust…trust in God’s life-transformative promise to you:

Jeremiah 29:11-14. For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the LORD, “and will bring you back from captivity.

So much can change within a year.

The Ugly From Last Year

On By femmefuelIn FemmeFeatures by JMathis, Transform Yourself1 Comment

imageBy JMathis

Ugly. Over the years, that word has been attached to a whole host of images. When I was three, ugly referred to the monster lurking within my closet. When I was thirteen, ugly was the name I gave to every single pimple on my face that dared to defy acne medication (oh wait, was that yesterday?). When I was twenty-one, ugly was the “troll” on the dance floor who just couldn’t take the hint that I wasn’t interested in grinding the night away.

Unfortunately, as I have gotten older, I tend to pull out the word ugly a lot more, to refer to a whole range of irritating nuisances in my life. For the past few years, I have found myself using the word ugly as a commentary on the year that I am experiencing. More often than not, I catch myself saying, “This year can’t get any uglier; I can’t wait for it to be over!! Next year has got to be better than this.”

In fact, as I look back on every year of my adulthood, I don’t recall ever saying, “Wow! This past year was just SO incredible, there’s no way that next year can top it!” More often than not, I am just itching to put a close on yet another ugly year. I know that many of you feel the same way, since I read a multitude of Facebook status updates that said: “Good Riddance, 2010!”

Sadly, even when remarkable milestones are achieved in a single year, such events continue to be shrouded in anxieties over what the future will bring. These anxieties quickly cloud and shape one’s resolutions for the upcoming year. While I was over the moon about launching my own business, worries about finances made me resolve that I needed to horde every penny that was earned, without giving purposeful prayer and thought as to how to build my company’s future. When I experienced the gift of childbirth, I didn’t allow myself to enjoy being a new mom as I was too busy juggling work pressures, post-partum depression and feeling sorry for myself that my former, carefree life had vanished. Instead of confiding in God, my family or friends that my life was really out of whack, I just convinced myself that I needed to make a new year’s resolution to engage in more “work-life balance”. What does that mean anyway??

Not always, but perhaps we make these resolutions because we are not content and at peace with the already complete life God has given to each of us. Why is it that we are unable to hold onto a spirit of thankfulness throughout the year? Why can’t we remain full of faith that God will continue to supply all of our needs year after year? Why is it so difficult to recognize that life is already full of God’s blessings and evidence of His continued faithfulness? Why are we always so quick to flush last year down the toilet?

Are resolutions our way of taking matters into our own hands, since we just don’t trust God to provide a solution in time?

Perhaps the concept of crafting a new year’s resolution is faulty to begin with, as it is almost always a man-made aspiration, rather than a God-inspired desire. Maybe we have it all backwards when it comes to new years’ resolutions.

Now, I am not saying that it is incorrect or fruitless to aspire for bigger and greater, and to believe for a better year than the last. I’m not even saying that you should kiss new years’ resolutions goodbye. However, when your new years’ resolutions are in fact the SAME resolutions every year, and you find that your new year is turning out to have the SAME exact problems as the year before, then there’s something wrong.

Have you ever considered asking God what your resolutions should be this year? How about asking Him what ugliness you need to change about yourself in 2011?

Do we avoid doing that, because we’re just too afraid of hearing God’s answer?

What if your resolution is to expand your lucrative medical practice, while God’s resolution is for you to work for a free clinic in the inner city? What if your resolution is to spend more time in the gym, while God’s resolution is for you to spend more time mentoring homeless kids? What if your resolution is to move the heck out of your parents’ house, while God’s resolution is for you to let go of past grudges and make proper amends with your family members? What if your resolution is to fix everything that’s wrong in the church, while God’s resolution is for you to just sit down, shut up and have a heart of thanksgiving? Thanksgiving for the roof over your head, thanksgiving for the clean water you drink, and thanksgiving that God has already provided you with everything you could possibly need to positively impact another life on this earth?

Maybe the ugly from last year is just the ugly truth that we don’t really care what God wants for our future.

Maybe the ugly from last year is that we don’t want to hear what God’s still, small voice has to say about the upcoming year.

Maybe the ugly from last year is that we complain about everything and are grateful to God for nothing.

Maybe the ugly from last year is YOU.

Psalms 51:12: “Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.”

The Season for Pruning

On By femmefuelIn FemmeBytes by JMathis, Transform Yourself2 Comments

By JMathis

John 15:2. He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit, while every branch that does bear fruit, He prunes so that it will be even more fruitful.

image Howard Moss, past poetry editor for the New Yorker (until his death in 1987), penned a moving poem about a tree undergoing the painful, disquieting process of pruning. The poem also calls to mind the beauty that follows, as described in John 15:2.

While the pruning of last year may have been painful for you, know that The Creator is lovingly tending your branches, so that more room can be made for the fruitful abundance that awaits you this year.

It is in this pruning that our purpose is refined. Allow for God to strip away the unnecessary, so that you bear so much fruit, you are left with no choice but to share this bounty with your family, friends and community.

The Pruned Tree

As a torn paper might seal up its side,
Or a streak of water stitch itself to silk
And disappear, my wound has been my healing,
And I am made more beautiful by losses.
See the flat water in the distance nodding
Approval, the light that fell in love with statues,
Seeing me alive, turns its motion toward me.
Shorn, I rejoice in what was taken from me.
What can the moonlight do with my new shape
But trace and retrace its miracle of order?
I stand, waiting for the strange reaction
Of insects who knew me in my larger self,
Unkempt, in a naturalness I did not love.
Even the dog’s voice rings with a new echo,
And all the little leaves I shed are singing,
Singing to the moon of shapely newness.
Somewhere what I lost I hope is springing
To life again. The roofs, astonished by me,
Are taking new bearings in the night, the owl
Is crying for a further wisdom, the lilac
Putting forth its strongest scent to find me.
Butterflies, like sails in grooves, are winging
out of the water to wash me, wash me.
Now, I am stirring like a seed in China.

–Howard Moss

Liven Up Those New Year’s Resolutions

On By femmefuelIn FemmeBytes by JMathis, Transform YourselfLeave a comment

By JMathis

Relevant Magazine just posted a great article on how to actually make New Year’s Resolutions that are not…well, boring.  How many times have you tried starting a new fitness plan on January 1st, only to be stuffing your face with Twinkies by January 3rd? Check out this article by Rachel Held Evans.

For those of you unfamiliar with the writings of Rachel Held Evans, I really encourage you to pick up a copy of her bestselling book, Evolving in Monkey Town. This is a beautifully written memoir that honestly recounts Rachel’s personal struggle with doubting her faith in God. So many of us, including myself, are wrestling with spiritual and intellectual doubt as to long-standing beliefs instilled in us by the church, family or our culture. Many of us are trained to shut up about our doubts, lest we appear to be heretical or traitorous to others in the religious community.

It takes a great writer like Rachel to give us the courage to openly ask why we believe in Jesus Christ, as in many ways, this process of questioning is what will help us to better embrace a deeper, personal and more mature faith in Christ.