Tag: Jesus

Unpublished

On By sashakatzIn FemmeFuel by Sasha Katz1 Comment

By Sasha Katz

I ran across an anonymous quote – – We all have chapters we would rather keep unpublished.  I love this quote.  The more I think about this quote, the more I love this quote.  In fact, I was listening to the Wally Show  this morning and the contest was to judge who had the best mind blowing quote.  I am going to go with this one.

My assumption is that, most of you reading this, are ladies.  We girls have so many moments that we would be happy to claim unpublished.  The view my mom and husband got when I was pushing my first baby out. Must stay unpublished!  How about the time my ex-step grandma proceeded to pull out everything she could find between the cushions on my couch, including coins, stale chips, popcorn, popped balloon pieces and other moldy junk. She piled all the stuff she found in front of her on the coffee table – during a family party. How about on my 20th birthday when everyone was going around the table telling their very best story of me . . . and my nine year old brother told about the time I walked down the hall and “let it rip!” Really. Should have been unpublished.

Don’t judge my life to be easy or simple by these goofy better off unpublished bits. The real stuff that we don’t want published is the stuff wrapped about pain and shame. The stuff we do retakes of in our mind 100 times over. But the retake in your mind doesn’t take away the real thing that went down in your her-story.

I have to tell you there are not many people out there who have retraced their steps as many times as I have. I hate to think that there are many of you out there who have asked God to forgive them for the same thing over and over again for a full decade. I hope to think that it’s mostly me. But, at the ripe old age of 39, I have let it all go. God has let me remember each and every wretched, sinful thing I have ever done. Everything that I am ashamed of. That blasphemed His name. That soiled His spirit in my temple. That was hypocritical, selfish and self-serving. That deeply hurt others. Everything that made a mess of the real me He knows me to be.

In His grace, there was a purpose to all of my laundry lists. I had a cross over point some time ago. I realized that, if I would let Him, He was intending to wash my mind, spirit and soul of the part of the girl that had gone all wrong. Instead of folding my laundry and putting it back in my closet for me to wear again and again, He was separating it as far as the east is from the west. For as often as I could bring a sin to mind, He was there to send it off to the bottom of the sea. I don’t know how He does these mysterious, miraculous works in us, but He does.

I once read an author who pondered the hours Jesus spent hanging on the cross. The author proposed that the time He hung represented the time it took to forgive in advance each and every sin committed by humanity. In addition to the physical pain, imagine what it was like for Jesus to bear all of our sins. You and I know a little about that because sometimes we bear our sins on our own. We know how bad that hurts. I don’t think we can imagine what bearing all of earth’s sins feels like – – coupled with the physical pain. It sobers you. It tugs at the part of you that has the capacity to feel gratitude; it tugs at the part of you that has the capacity to be merciful to others. It tugs at everything about you that you wish went unpublished. Because you know He had to suffer to make you clean and new. To make the unpublished you, Published.

unpublished

This post was inspired by Connie Inman’s pin of the quote herein. Thanks Connie!

Spring Cleansing

On By femmefuelIn FemmeFeatures by Bindu Adai-Mathew, March 2013 Spring Cleaning, UncategorizedLeave a comment

By Bindu Adai Mathew

As I began to prepare to move out of our downtown condo that has been our home for the last 8 years, I realize that I’m not just cleaning out the clutter of the last 8 years of my life… I’m also cleaning out the clutter that I brought with me when I moved in 8 years ago as well. 

As I sit, literally sit, in my walk-in closet and reach for the stacks of notebooks and paper that have remained hidden in the corners of my closet, I begin to quickly feel overwhelmed, realizing that what should only take me a couple of minutes is actually going to take me hours. Part of my brain rebels and reminds me that since I hadn’t looked at them in that many years, then I should probably just grab it all and chunk it into the abyss of the oversized trashbag next to me. I should, but a still, small voice booms louder than my conscience. It is the voice that has ensnared and imprisoned me for years and labeled me as a “packrat.” I give in, as I always do, and start digging through the stacks.  An electricity bill from 2007. I hesitate for a moment… “But what if I need it?” I shake my head at myself, ashamed that the thought has even crossed my mind. Before it can repeat itself, I thrust the paper into the black abyss. Some receipts from a store purchase that I won’t even mention the year they’re from. I assure myself since I no longer plan to return those items, yes, these receipts can go into the trash as well. A journal from my single days when I was lamenting the woes of unrequited love. Yes, this one is a keeper and could be potential inspiration for my next novel! Not to mention it’s my journal, for goodness sake! I set it aside to my right, creating a new fresh pile of keepsakes. On and on, I go…I’m embarrassed to know that yes, while the contents of my trash bag grew so did the pile of keepsakes. While some things were easy to let go, others were painful, even if I knew I no longer needed them and probably wouldn’t have the time to look at them until I had to clean my closets yet again. I consider just throwing these keepsakes into a moving box to reckon with them later. After a heavy sigh and the feeling of dread, I look at my keepsake file and begin anew, making another pile of things I can’t part with. I slowly whittle away at the original keepsake file and soon it becomes something more manageable. While it has been painful, tedious, and long, I have to admit, I do feel more free…less burdened… 

In my quiet time later that night, God prods my heart. No…not my heart, too, Lord! Wasn’t my closet enough for today? I sigh, knowing that my spring cleaning isn’t complete. If I don’t purge my heart as well of the unnecessary clutter, I will carry that with me indefinitely as well. As I pray, I began sorting through some of it. The betrayal of a once good friend. The letdown of another. The critical words of an inlaw.  The stinging words of a sibling. The disappointment of a setback. Yes, there are countless things that I have hoarded and held onto in the dark recesses of my mind and heart. Things I should throw out, things I should let go of…but like the piles of paper in my closet, I have allowed myself to hold onto it, allowing it to fill unnecessary space in my life, clouding it, crowding it. I want to feel that freedom I felt earlier when I looked at my closet and saw the cleanliness and tidiness of it after my spring cleaning. Yes, it was time…more than time to spring clean my heart as well.

 

Forgive me, Lord, for being so unforgiving. Help me let go of the hurt, the pain, and the bitterness of some of those memories. Cleanse me, Lord, and renew my spirit. Lord, you’ve promised me joy for my ashes. You’ve promised me that you will use everything, even the bad, for my good. Lord, I choose to believe that. I choose You over my hurt and bitterness. Renew me, Lord.

 

 

 

The Ultimate Friend

On By femmefuelIn August 2011 (Cultivating Friendships), FemmeFeatures by Bindu Adai-MathewLeave a comment

By Bindu Adai-Mathew

Last week I described how many of my friendships have changed over the years. Some that I thought would last forever were suddenly and surprisingly no more. And some grew distant over time. Most of those friendships I reluctantly had to let go once I realized that I was the only one who seemed to still want it to continue. But there is one friendship that I have often neglected…that I take full responsibility for. The sad part is that more than any other friendship, this is the one friend who deserves nothing but my best…and I am sad to say, my friend doesn’t always get that from me.

I met my friend when I was 9 years old although I knew of him much earlier. Him. Yes, he is a He. Yes, my husband knows him as well, and they, too, are friends.  Actually, my friend is the one who was really responsible for bringing me and my husband together, although he probably doesn’t get enough credit for that.

My friend has been through it all with me. Ups. Downs. Happy times. Sad times. He’s been with me when I was single and lonely. Married and happy. Often when my hubby and I don’t see eye to eye, it is he who calms me down, who makes me realize that I’m being too stubborn…or selfish.

My friend reads me like no other. And he’s seen the ugly side of me and still manages to love me regardless.

My friend is thoughtful, considerate, generous, loving.

My friend prays for me…all the time. He intercedes to our Heavenly Father on my behalf.

I can call him any time of the day. Morning. Noon. Night or day.

My friend has been there for me, especially when my other friends couldn’t be. Even when I was too busy to make time for my friend, he patiently waited for me.

My friend is the Ultimate Friend. Loyal. Faithful. Honest. And True. Better than anyone or any friend I have ever known.

There is also one other thing my friend has done for me…often many will say they would do this but he not only says he will…he has already done it. He died for me. He died so that I could live.

He is such a good friend that I would be a horrible friend to you if I didn’t introduce him to you. His name is Jesus. And what he did for me, he also did for you.

For those of you who already know him, this is a reminder to you that he is not only your Savior, your Lord, your Provider, your Healer…but he is also your friend.

While other friends may abandon you, He will never leave you. He never tires of being there for you.

You can talk to him like you would to any friend. And he can comfort you like none other.

And here’s an old hymnal reminding us of the great friend we do have in Jesus:

What a friend we have in Jesus,
All our sins and griefs to bear!
What a privilege to carry
Everything to God in prayer!
Oh, what peace we often forfeit,
Oh, what needless pain we bear,
All because we do not carry
Everything to God in prayer!

Have we trials and temptations?
Is there trouble anywhere?
We should never be discouraged—
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Can we find a friend so faithful,
Who will all our sorrows share?
Jesus knows our every weakness;
Take it to the Lord in prayer.

Are we weak and heavy-laden,
Cumbered with a load of care?
Precious Savior, still our refuge—
Take it to the Lord in prayer.
Do thy friends despise, forsake thee?
Take it to the Lord in prayer!
In His arms He’ll take and shield thee,
Thou wilt find a solace there.

Blessed Savior, Thou hast promised
Thou wilt all our burdens bear;
May we ever, Lord, be bringing
All to Thee in earnest prayer.
Soon in glory bright, unclouded,
There will be no need for prayer—
Rapture, praise, and endless worship
Will be our sweet portion there.

The River Between Us

On By femmefuelIn FemmeBytes by Sasha Katz, June 2011 (Men and Boys)Leave a comment

By AbbyA

JMathis’ piece on the softness of men is so refreshing. For those of us who have been through a lot in our marriages, with our father figures or even with God, we forget how much the same we are with our fellow brothers. Whether they are husbands, brothers, dads, sons, boyfriends, the river we feel between us is not so large or vast. Bindu was so right when she talked about the hunter within us  – – whether we are fishing for shoes or fishing for men. The cross over is as large as the river between us.

I’m here in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Yesterday, I celebrated my second Father’s Day without my dad, and today, my 36th birthday. Since I got married nine years ago, had my babies and started a business, there has been a part of me that lacked confidence. It played out like feeling other moms knew more or had more experience than me. Or, that who I am wasn’t accomplished enough. I have all of this fruit around me, but didn’t feel I had the authority to acknowledge these good things were flowing out of the good in me.

There has been a certain amount of healing in the last few days. I have recognized how much my dad loved me. Without dredging the details, my dad was highly esteemed and very important in the lives of thousands of people over the years. Many of those people got to be around and spent a lot of time with my dad. Hundreds of these people came to his funeral, hundreds more wrote in his online guest book. I love how much he was loved. I spent a lot of time over the last year and a half longing for and wanting to be some of those individuals. I felt like they somehow “got more” or were on the “inside.” And, I was on the outside. Just the sort of thing that contributes to the killing of confidence. Because the “she” inside of me was just a little girl when he became so far away.

Call it my mother’s intuition or her extraordinary relationship with the Lord, “she” asked me, just the other day, to pray about receiving the great love my dad had for me. God showed me that, to my dad, I am more valuable than the air he breathed. It changed my heart. It has brought me leaps and bounds in the way of feeling justified. Comfortable with who I am, not as the smarty twenty-something. But as the mother, wife and friend that I am.

I will wrap it up by saying that there is sometimes a river between us. Male and female in the roles of father-daughter, husband-wife, mother-son. But there also is the cross over. That would be our Lord Jesus Christ who always makes a way to remove the space in between. My prayer for each and any one of you is that wherever you find the empty space or wherever you see the questions marks in your life, that you would seek Him to find the healing you need to be the full person God made you to be. I am quite sure that the river was meant to freely flow between us. Only He can make life this beautiful.

Is it the Battle of All Men?

On By femmefuelIn FemmeFeatures by Sasha Katz, June 2011 (Men and Boys)Leave a comment

By AbbyA

JMathis wrote yesterday – It is very easy for us to laugh and roll our eyes in disbelief at the Tigers, Schwarzeneggers and Weiners of this world. It’s even easier for us to judge and wag our collective, holier-than-thou fingers at the Bishop Longs, Jim Bakkers, Ted Haggards and Catholic priests of the Christian world.  Who are these guys?  We’ve got a mega athlete, a high profile actor turned governor, a politician and a handful of Christian leaders.  They are all men with access to wealth, locally or nationally famous and hold the power card to influence their followers.  I am thinking Spiderman – With great power, comes great responsibility.  But, I am also thinking Jesus – 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.  Luke 12:48

What’s going on here?  From the same guys we are supposed to root for on the golf course, vote for on the ballot and gain wisdom from . . . From the same guys our kids see plastered on tv ads, behind podiums and under the cross . . . From the same guys, we see their moral compass spin out of whack.  We see their moral boundaries blur.  When did their own, presumably firm, decision-making process start to fall apart?

It certainly didn’t start the day Arnold slept with the maid.  It certainly didn’t start the day Tiger found himself juggling his wife and multiple lovers.  And it certainly didn’t start the day Weiner tweeted his package.  And, the spilled milk didn’t stop the day they all bawled through their public apologies on national television.  With so many casualties along the path of these men, it is probably hard for even them to count backwards to the day they allowed the pendulum to begin its swing off-center.   When exactly did they stop believing they were subject to the laws of morality?  Or that they could escape the natural law of actions and consequences?  Was it a built-in, individual weakness that came to the surface under too much stress and too much attention?  Or is it the battle of all men?

Yes, I think it is the battle of all men.  I think it is the desire of most men to gain wealth, notoriety and influence.  No matter the portion of the serving of any of the three, responsibility is required.  While I don’t think men function in the way of seeking balance as we ladies do.  I do think they tick in the way of decision.  I think one of the keys to prayer for our men suggested by JMathis is covering with prayer the decisions of the men in our lives.  It is the initial, small decisions that lead to eventual, large moral blunders.  Let’s pray together that men in our lives would be empowered to make Godly decisions.  That their decision-making would not be swayed by wealth or notoriety.  Let’s pray that they would harness their influence for good.  And let’s pray that, if ever a decision falls off course, that they would have the wisdom to . . . ask for the old paths, where the good way is, And walk in it.  Then you will find rest for your souls.  Jeremiah 6:16.

It Is Finished

On By femmefuelIn April 2011 (April Showers...), FemmeFeatures by Bindu Adai-MathewLeave a comment

By Bindu Adai-Mathew

In contrast to the “very serene, alive, white pure place” AbbyA described in her blog yesterday, I want you to imagine the opposite. I want you to imagine a dark, dingy, dirty prison cell. The cement floor is cold and clammy, and the cement walls are filled with crevices, filth and small creatures you’d prefer to not think about.  As you lay on your filthy, stained, uneven mattress, you stare at the rusted iron bars, believing they are the only thing that separate you from freedom and happiness.

But one day a prison guard comes by to personally visit you and tell you that you have been bailed out. You watch as he takes out his skeleton key and inserts it into the lock. You can hear the click of the lock as it turns to its unlocked state. You see the guard slide open those rusted iron bars, and with a flourish of his wrist, he let’s you know you are free…

Yet you remain. Paralyzed. Sitting in the filth and excrement of your past, allowing it to immobilize you and imprison you and rob you of your present and future.

In chapter 19 in the book of John, the disciple John describes a similar scene of someone who looks like they were about to be robbed of their future.

28Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, “I am thirsty.” 29A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus’ lips. 30When he had received the drink, Jesus said, “It is finished.”

Almost two thousand years ago, to everyone, including many of the disciples that had followed him, things did not look good for Jesus.  He who proclaimed to be the Son of God who came to save the world couldn’t even save himself. He was beaten brutally by the very people whom he came to save and left to die on a cross like a common thief. Things definitely did not look good for Jesus almost two thousand years ago.

For those who put Jesus to death and heard Jesus’s final words, “It is finished,” they probably would have whole-heartedly agreed that yes, it was finished. It was over. He/Jesus was finished.

And for those people, for their limited perspective, yes, it was over.

But we know now, don’t we? We know that the only thing finished was death….hopelessness…

So as you sit in your personal mental prison cell, what is imprisoning you? Hurt? Bitterness? Disappointment? Do you feel so overwhelmed by your pain that even though the door has been left wide open for you to walk into freedom, you prefer the familiar pang of your pain?

To you who feels hopeless…to you who feels unworthy…to you who feels empty…to you, I say, “It is finished.”

You have been bailed out. You do not have to remain where you are. You may feel that things are hopeless…but two thousand years ago, things also looked very hopeless.

But we know the truth…It was not finished…Life had just begun.

AbbyA

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.