Part 2/Boundaries

On By sashakatzIn April 2012, FemmeFeatures by Sasha KatzLeave a comment

A wise woman knows that there is more than one way to trample her garden.  One of the more tempting ways to scorch garden flowers is to fill a need that is not yours to fill.  You can almost watch yourself prepare to flatten tall vines and blossoms.  You can almost see yourself begin to clip away at blooming buds.  In the names of grateful, accommodating, agreeable, encouraging and hospitable, you will do a lot for the “needy.”  You swing back your satchel of good things and get ready to deliver.  You are rearing to save . . . apart from the fact that the “needy” haven’t asked and your internal wisdom has already told you the timing is not right.

This is the sure way to give your garden a lawn job.  With your many gifts and talents, it is grueling to withhold passing on a treasure from your hard-earned collection.  You have weathered storms and gathered wisdom – – for the purpose of sharing and passing along.  It is challenging to hold back your arsenal of love from an opportunity even if it is not yours.  You can’t help to think that you can help.

A wise woman sees past her momentary need to give or help.  She gathers her sense of purpose and panoramic perspective.  She thinks back to the years she built her garden.  The pattern, sort and style of the rows and planters.  She sees the intersections of relationships and the timeliness of the happenings of her life.  The foundation of her garden and its gates center upon her very specific path and purpose.  Stepping off the already intricate, complex and full path to fill a need or gap that is not yours to fill is counterproductive.  The fact of the matter is that this is one sure way to trample your garden.

A wise woman knows the aftermath of a trampled garden.  She knows because she has been there at least a few times before.  Flatten some of your flowers while running off track.  Muddy up your shoes, trip and skin your elbow.  Show up late because it wasn’t your route.  Deliver the wrong flowers because they were supposed to be from someone else’s garden.  Awkward moment since the gift was meant to be delivered by someone else.  The bottom line is that you depleted your stock for a cause that was not yours and for a need that surely won’t be perfected by your gift.  Trampled garden, trampled cause.  This section of your garden is now a mess.  And now it’s clean up time.

A wise woman knows that she can help but waits for the opportune person, place and time.  Agreeable, encouraging and hospitable have remarkable worth when nurtured in a garden with a gate managed by a wise keeper.  It is challenging to hold back an arsenal of gifts.  It is challenging to desire to see someone blessed.  But she waits.  Her path and her purpose are tried and true.  She waits.  For her wisdom has grown her to be as set apart as her attractive garden.

Speak Up

On By femmefuelIn Uncategorized1 Comment

By JMathis

My husband’s grandfather died this past Easter week. Needless to say, between his death and remembering my Saviour dying on the cross, I was ensconced in images of death. I was surprised at how caught off-guard I was in my reactions to these deaths. After all, the death of my husband’s grandfather was hardly unexpected (he was 86 and in the end stages of cancer). And, certainly, commemorating Jesus’s crucifixion didn’t come out of left field—Easter comes around every year, and as a Christian, I know His life ends not in death, but in resurrection. 

Still, I wasn’t prepared for how those images made their way to my 4 year old daughter. She peppered me with questions and commentary about death, dying and the dead—all of the sticky, messy nuances of death that I never really wanted to discuss with anyone, much less with her. 

Will I still be your daughter if you die?

Do only old people die, Mama? Are you old, Mama?

Will you still love me if you’re in Heaven?

If I stop eating my vegetables, I’ll stay little forever, right? And I never have to grow old and die—right, Mama?

Why did Jesus get punished for the bad things I did? Couldn’t they punish him with a time-out or a spanking? Why did they have to punish him by making Him die?

The gravity of these questions saddened me. Dredging up answers for these questions overwhelmed me. 

Don’t get me wrong—I readily accept that in this day and age, I have to talk to her about adult things like The Birds and the Bees, child molestation, body image issues and substance abuse. 

But, unlike those things, death seems so unknown. So unyielding. So permanent. 

More importantly, death means separation. In my daughter’s mind, separation one day from her mama. In my father-in-law’s mind, separation today from his daddy. In my Lord’s mind, separation on that Good Friday from His heavenly Father. Physical, emotional and spiritual separation.   

I think this is why it was recorded in the Bible that Jesus had wept.  Some people say He wept because Lazarus was dead. Others say He wept for the sadness experienced by others over Lazarus’s death. Scholars say He wept over the fact that death had become a daily part of human reality. There are even others who say He wept knowing that some people would never believe in the One, True, Living God and would never experience the fullness of life everlasting—that death for them truly did mean a permanent separation from God. Physical, emotional and spiritual separation.   

I think He wept because of the overwhelming sadness of it all. That sin had even entered this world, causing His little children to slip through the cracks, and fall into a wretched abyss without recognizing, knowing, experiencing and receiving the life-giving, life-sustaining nature and character of God. Physical, emotional and spiritual separation.    

I think He wept because this fallen world had forced Him to even talk about death, dying and the dead to His little children—all of the sticky, messy nuances of death that He never wanted to discuss with anyone when He conceived of all of creation. 

I, too, wept as my daughter demanded answers to these difficult questions last week.  I, too, wept because of the overwhelming sadness of it all. 

I didn’t weep for me. I didn’t weep for my loved ones who know Jesus. 

I wept because I was forced to even explain these sticky, messy nuances of death to my daughter. That these sticky, messy nuances meant that my daughter and I would have friends who will never recognize Christ. That we would have family who will never know His unconditional love and mercy. That we would have co-workers that will never experience freedom from pain, grief and bondage. That we would have neighbors who will never receive a way out from death. 

That there will be people out there who will permanently live in physical, emotional and spiritual separation from God if I don’t speak up about these sticky, messy nuances of death.

Christians, speak up. 

Speak up about death. 

Speak up about the dying.

Speak up about the dead.

Speak up, so that the dead may rise. So that death has no sting. So that death has no victory. So that no one—no, not even one, would experience physical, emotional and spiritual separation from God.

Speak up so that living water freely pours out from His hands and His feet, onto the whole of humanity. So that life and healing overtake the sinful strongholds of this dark, twisted and dying world.

Christians, speak up.

Finding Refuge During the Storm

On By femmefuelIn FemmeFeatures by Bindu Adai-Mathew, March 2012Leave a comment

By Bindu Adai-Mathew

To me, there is almost nothing more satisfying than lounging on my living room couch with a blanket, hot cocoa, and a good book in the midst of a storm and torrential downpour outside. As I watch the rain thrash against my window pane and I listen to thunder boom outside, I sink deeper into my couch and sigh with blissful satisfaction and peace. I love the feeling of warm and comfort my blanket and hot cocoa give me. I love the support and security that my fluffy couch provides. And I love the safety and security I feel, knowing that I am in my home, protected from the raging storm outside.

That, my friend, is what it is like when we find our refuge in God. Like our home, he protects us in the midst of the storm. Like our blanket, He covers us, providing us with sustenance, with comfort, with peace. We can rest assured, knowing that despite whatever is going on outside, He is with us inside, protecting us, comforting us.

Before he became king, David had to find his refuge in God. He literally had to live and hide in caves as King Saul pursued him. Imagine his predicament from his viewpoint. As a teenager, Samuel showed up in him home, anointing him the next king of Israel…and years later, in his early 20s, where is he? Is he sitting on the throne, being fanned by palm leaves and fed grapes while also ruling a nation? No, he is running from cave to cave, living like an outlaw as he awaits God’s appointed time.  Imagine the despair, the frustration, the disappointment he had to battle through as he struggled during that time. You actually don’t have to imagine it…you can read about it in many of the psalms he wrote. You can hear the despair in his voice as he pleads with God to protect him from his enemies. He faced setback after setback, but the scriptures tell us, David encouraged himself in the Lord (1 Samuel 30: 6).

Sometimes the struggles we face are torrential downpours and we can find comfort and safety in our home, watching and knowing we are safe…but sometimes, those torrential downpours are like hurricane winds, threatening to blow our house down…or like a tornado that leaves nothing in its path unscathed. But again, that is when we have to dig in deep and find our comfort, peace, and security in our faith and God.

There is a childhood song I remember singing in Sunday School:

The Wise Man Built His House

The wise man built his house upon the rock
The wise man built his house upon the rock
The wise man built his house upon the rock
And the rain came tumbling down

Oh, the rain came down
And the floods came up
The rain came down
And the floods came up
The rain came down
And the floods came up
And the wise man’s house stood firm.

The foolish man built his house upon the sand
The foolish man built his house upon the sand
The foolish man built his house upon the sand
And the rain came tumbling down

Oh, the rain came down
And the floods came up
The rain came down
And the floods came up
The rain came down
And the floods came up
And the foolish man’s house went “splat!” [clap hands once]

So, build your house on the Lord Jesus Christ
Build your house on the Lord Jesus Christ
Build your house on the Lord Jesus Christ
And the blessings will come down

Oh, the blessings come down
As your prayers go up
The blessings come down
As your prayers go up
The blessings come down
As your prayer go up
So build your house on the Lord Jesus Christ.

So what is your “house” built on? If it’s built on God, even hurricane winds and tornadoes cannot touch the security and protection that only God can provide. He will envelop you under his wing and protect you through the storm…until that appointed time, when you will soar like an eagle.

But those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint. Isaiah 40:31

Part 1: Boundaries

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFeatures by Sasha Katz, FemmeFuel by Sasha Katz, March 20121 Comment

A wise woman knows that beauty accumulates through loving and sharing in trusting relationships.  A wise woman adds to her beauty by giving many gifts to others.  Her giving is wise.  It is thoughtful.  It is blessing.  She knows that her gifts are not up for auction or for grabbing from all sides.  Her garden offers fruit and friendship with a sensible, compassionate heart.

This type of wisdom in giving was not gained without many casualties – – primarily through many deaths of herself.  If you ask her, she will tell you that her past is splattered with falls down stairs, wipe outs and thoughts of insane asylums.  She learned disappointment as she tumbled down stairs that she thought would lead to faithful fellowship.  As she lay flat faced on the hard floor, she learned that unbalanced relationships can wipe you out.  She genuinely thought she was going nuts when her gifts were received with scorn and rejection.

She has learned that not all giving makes you beautiful.  The truth is that you cannot be a wise giver if you haven’t had a few slaps in the face.  If fact, you are not a wise giver in your relationships unless you have had your world turned upside down.  Upside down is a hard series of lessons to learn.  But, a woman like you takes her life lessons in seriousness and in stride.

Upside down means that you cannot be grateful, accommodating, agreeable, encouraging and hospitable without also setting in place wise boundaries around your garden.  If you have a well-kept, sturdy fence in your yard, you see the value of your labor.  You know what it takes to develop roots that take hold far below the soil.  You know that your garden’s rest under the stars prepares it for the rising sun at dawn.  You know that, if not for food and water, the blazing sun would harm your garden’s fruit and flowers.  You know that, without careful planning for the seasons, your garden may not produce fruit at the right time.  You know the value on your labor.

A wise woman knows when to open the gate of her garden’s fence.  She is thoughtful and mindful of the needs around her.  She is thoughtful and mindful of the hearts set before her.  She sees her brothers and sisters coming from a mile away.  And, she knows well her collection of treasures from the fruits of her garden.  She picks just the right fruit to give at just the right time.  This is true giving.  This is beautiful.

Covenant: A Walk Unto Death

On By femmefuelIn Uncategorized1 Comment

By JMathis

Image

The whispers of the ages call to me in my restlessness and wakefulness. Come into covenant with your Father.

I am confounded by these promptings of conviction. I am uneasy with the Spirit’s line of questioning as to my commitment with my Savior.

Lord, am I not already in covenant with you?

What took place when I was 7 years old when I received you into my heart at a Billy Graham crusade? What transpired when I was 25 when I re-dedicated my life to serving You?

Come into covenant with your Father.

Lord, I am trying to be broken before you. I am trying to live on the straight and narrow. I am trying to please you. What more is it that you want from me?

“If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children, his brothers and sisters–yes, even his own life–he cannot be my disciple.” Luke 14:26.

Hate, Father? You want me to hate my family? Even my own child? Didn’t you tell me in the Ten Commandments to honor my father and mother? What about I Timothy 5:8 where You say that anyone who does not care for her family denies her faith? Aren’t I supposed to be cleaving to my husband despite the fact that he leaves the toilet seat up daily??

Ahh, but hate in the original Hebrew is not I Hate Eating Liver, or I Hate Nazism, or I Hate Hurricane Season.

Hate in the original Hebrew instead reflects a choice: do you put Him first before all others in your life? Do you prioritize Him above your spouse, your kids, your parents, your work, your enjoyment of this life? Do you love Him with all of your heart, might and soul, even to the point of turning your back on your friends, your loved ones, your things, your self? Especially when they interfere and stand in the way of your relationship with Christ?   

Come into covenant with your Father.

These are hard teachings, Lord. How does covenant fit into my Starbucks filter of Christianity? Double shot of espresso with a shot of Jesus on the side?

You can get my all once the workday is complete, once the kid is in bed, once my husband is asleep. You can have me to yourself on Sunday morning–except on Sunday morning when I’m thinking about how annoying this worship song is, or about what I want to eat for lunch that day, or about the piles of work and laundry that need to be finished up by Monday morning.

Come into covenant with your Father.

Sacrifice.

Repentance.

Atonement.

A daily walk unto death.

Death to myself. Death to my ambitions. Death to all that I hold sacred in this world.

Come into covenant with your Father.

While You Wait…

On By femmefuelIn FemmeFeatures by Bindu Adai-Mathew, March 20123 Comments

By Bindu Adai-Mathew

Waiting. Waiting for a husband. Waiting on Florida to finally feel like home. Waiting on a good job.  Waiting on the economy to improve. Waiting for our business to pick up.

If I had to describe one of the more prominent themes of my life during my 20s and 30s, it would probably be waiting on God. I can’t remember a time since college when I wasn’t waiting for something in my life to change or improve.

Two weeks ago, my pastor preached on the life of Joseph and how he “failed” and suffered for not his own mistakes, but insteade due to the lies and deceit of first, his own family, and then later, due to the lies of his boss’s wife.  As he preached on Joseph, my pastor promised us a profound comment regarding Joseph’s life and how we should handle life when it treats us so unfairly. After all, who better than Joseph could understand how difficult and challenging it can be to wait on God. Brace yourself, you don’t want to miss this. My pastor said, “Faith is born in a moment but grows over a lifetime.”

Huh?

Yeah. I get it. I felt the same way. As I waited for my pastor’s words of insight, I immediately sat upright in my chair, pen ready to write these words of wisdom. But when he said it, “Faith is born in a moment but grows over a lifetime,” I looked at my pastor confused and honestly, a little disappointed. I was waiting for an epiphany. I was waiting for spiritual insight that I could use to encourage myself during my own time of waiting.

“Faith is born in a moment but grows over a lifetime.”   

But think about it…the moment, we give our life to Jesus, Faith immediately blooms in our hearts like a wildflower. It takes root. But it is the course of our life, that our Faith is tested, tried, and proven.

When we wait on God, we are putting our faith directly into action. After all, it takes faith to believe God will move. It takes faith to believe that things are going to change even though everything in our life may indicate the opposite. It takes faith to trust and wait on God.

And who, out of all our great Biblical forefathers, didn’t have to wait?

  • God promised Abraham a child much earlier, but it wasn’t until he was a 100 years old that Abraham saw his promise fulfilled.
  • Joseph was in his teens when God showed him that he would be a leader and that others would bow and respect him, but he didn’t see it come to reality until he was 30.
  • Scholars estimate that King David was in his preteens when Samuel anointed him King, but he, too, didn’t become king until he was 30.
  • Moses spent 40 years in exile in Midian before God brought him back to lead the people out of Egypt.

Faith is definitely one of the more challenging spiritual muscles to develop…but it is undoubtedly one of the most rewarding. Unfortunately, faith cannot be practiced in hindsight…neither is it 20/20. It 100% requires that same leap of faith that you took when you initially accepted Christ as your savior. It’s believing in God’s promises and what He’s personally revealed or promised to you. It’s rarely easy but the testimony you will have later will be priceless.

So what are you waiting on God for? Have you asked yourself, instead, maybe what He is waiting on you for?

Part 3: Confidence that Gives

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFeatures by Sasha Katz, Love3 Comments

By AbbyA

You have been through a lot.  So much you can hardly recall.  You have experienced many revisions of yourself.  As the revisions color over top of one another, you have become quite beautiful.  In the making of woman, you have become gifted and full of treasure.  You are her now.  

You have walked to where you are supposed to be.  Many good miles in your shoes.  Paths, trails and routes under your belt, and in these shoes.  But your feet don’t hurt.  You are pleasantly quenched and the light unto your path warms and directs you as you walk.  The magic of your condition and of this course is that you seem both to attract and seek out souls to cross paths with.  Beauty doesn’t walk alone and treasures are worthless unless shared.

You are her now.  You hold treasures in your trinkets that are hidden in your colorful character.  You have gifts tucked away in the layers of the fabric of your life.  You see into the lives of the souls put before you.  You pass messages of encouragement and share bits of your journey in the right proportion.  You breathe life into what otherwise may have been dead.  The depth of your exchange resonates deep and wide.  For the good of others.

You could have chosen to keep your beauty to yourself or close the box that holds your remarkable worth.  You could have.  But then you would cease to be her.  You would slowly lose your luster.  Your layers would become limp, faded and unattractive.  You would find yourself selectively remembering the should haves, was nots and wishes for different.  Sadly, you may even find yourself alone on an island.  Loneliness lends itself to thirst and exhaustion, and depression.  This is no place for a woman of your quality.  No place for a woman who has walked good miles in her shoes.  No place for her. 

You are made of long lasting fabric.  The kind that holds up over space and time.  The kind that warms souls and quenches thirsty hearts.  The kind that transforms itself by loving, giving and growing.  She has so much to offer.  Explode into her.  She has become you.