If you’ve been in my home lately, you would know that our world is surrounded by words. My friend Angie carved and stained me a sign (and carried it across the ocean to present it to us in France) that says “Sit long, talk much.” On my kitchen walls are funky metal signs with the words “Pray, Bless, Dream, and Explore.” The boys’ room contains six WWII Propaganda posters with inspirational quotes such as “Never was so much owed by so many to so few.” Our bedroom has a carved wooden “Amore” on our bookshelf. This is only the beginning. I want my family to be inspired and reminded of who we are and who we belong to. And so began my obsession with displaying words.
I think there were hints early on. I used to read under my covers at night with a flashlight. I frequently smuggled great books into the bathtub. Each time we travel, I carry no less than 10 books with me. We have 4 bookshelves in our bedroom. They bring me great joy.
I just read a great article by my friend Sharon Hersh. I wanted to give you the opportunity to read it to. It’s about words and The Word…Here it is…
I’ve been thinking a lot about resolutions. It’s hard not to when the new year rolls around. It really does seem like the perfect time to resolve to take better care of myself, try something new, or clean out something old. If you watch a little television you can get a lot of ideas about better abs, more organized closets, and finding the secret to eternal youth. I have to admit I’ve been tempted to order Crunchless Abs, Facelift in a Jar, or the Miracle Hanger. And then words from past New Years interrupt my daydreams of thin, young, organized, and fabulous!
I recall countless resolutions to exercise more, eat better, read my Bible, and floss daily. I read in a women’s magazine recently (one that suggested several diets and ways to organize your life) that over 60% of Americans do not make resolutions, and of the 40% who do, only 5% keep them. Perhaps what we’re discovering is that speaking words of promise (even if just to ourselves) and breaking them does more damage to our souls than carbohydrates and messy closets.
New Year’s Day is a profound reminder that words matter. In fact, words matter so much that God entered the world as Word. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God” (John 1:1). From the beginning God demonstrates that it is the word that calls things into existence, calls things by name, and identifies what is most true. “By the word of the Lord were the heavens made, and all the host of them by the breath of His mouth” (Psalms 33:6). I love the image the philosopher Aristophenes uses to describe the creative power of words, “By words the mind is winged.” I can recall words that people have spoken to me that have reminded me of who I am — that have created life:
* My mother telling me when I was seven years-old, “Sharon, you are special.” When I’m feeling invisible and less than ordinary, I still remember her words.
* A professor in graduate school scrawling across the top of a paper, “You must write.” When I am feeling out of words and foolish for thinking I could write anything, his words pull me back to writing.
* A five-year-old boy staring at my feet and exclaiming, “Miss Sharon, your toenails look pretty.” I was teaching children’s church, overwhelmed with responsibilities, dripping with sweat from the hot summer and the chaos of twenty-eight children in my basement for house church, and his words were like a cool drink that energized me to keep going.
There is a Chinese proverb that reads, “The beginning of wisdom is calling things by their right name.” I pray that this new year I can use words to create life.
Words also overcome evil. The Word explained, “I come not to judge, but to save the world” (John 12:47). I have certainly experienced words of judgment and condemnation that become like ulcers that hurt, erode faith, hope, and love, and separate from others. I have used words that I am certain have hurt others as well. A good word brings light to the soul. Our words are to reflect the Logos (the Word) who is Light and Life. I can easily remember good words that have brought light into my life:
* Words in books have often been the timely words that have saved me. Brennan Manning’s words in Ragamuffin Gospel have been the lamps along my path many times: “The gospel of grace calls out, Nothing can ever separate you from the love of God made visible in Christ Jesus our Lord. You must be convinced of this, trust, and never forget to remember. Everything else will pass away, but the love of Christ is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Faith will become vision, hope will become possession, but the love of Jesus Christ that is stronger than death endures forever. In the end, it is the one thing you can hang onto.”
*My son was only six years-old (he had just knocked over a lamp while playing Power Rangers in the living room) when he said words that I have hung on to during the inevitable ups and downs of family life: “Mom, in our family we always forgive each other, right?”
*A friend recently spoke words of light during a time of darkness, “Sharon, I trust your journey.” Her simple sentence said more about faith, hope, and love than volumes of words written on the subjects.
I pray that I can use words during the months ahead to bring light into the lives of others.
Words are eternal. Edward Thorndike wrote, “Colors fade, temples crumble, empires fade, but wise words endure.” Our words don’t disappear. I can recall words that were said to me that I will never forget:
*I had a seventh-grade history teacher who heard my sullen, sarcastic, middle-school vocabulary and advised me, “You will catch a lot more flies with honey than you will with vinegar.” I don’t remember his name, but I’ll never forget his words. I think of them when I am exasperated with a store clerk, mad at my children, or frustrated with someone on the other end of the telephone.
*My mom gave me advice that I continue to pass on to other young mothers, “Sharon, babies cry. (I was sleep-deprived and desperate for my crying baby to stop crying to prove that I was a good mother.) Your daughter doesn’t need to you to be perfect. She just needs you to love her.”
*There is seldom a night that I go to sleep that I don’t remember the words of the Eternal Word, “Do not be afraid. I have redeemed you. I have called you by name and you are mine. The mountains may be moved. The hills may be shaken. But my love for you will never be moved, and my covenant of peace with you cannot be shaken” (The Prophet Isaiah).
I resolve in the year ahead to remember that words matter. And yet in the midst of resolving I remember the words of Oliver Wendell Holmes, “Language is a solemn thing: it grows out of life . . . out of its agonies and ecstasies, its wants and weariness. Every language is a temple in which the soul of those who speak it is enshrined.” My words will not create, overcome evil, and matter for eternity unless I am enshrined in the Creative, Good, and Eternal Word. My deepest prayer is that my words will reflect where my soul finds nourishment — from The Word.
“The Word became flesh and blood and moved into the neighborhood. We saw the glory with our own eyes, the one-of-a-kind glory, like Father, like Son, generous inside and out, true from start to finish . . . . We all live off his generous bounty, gift after gift after gift. . . . This one-of-a-kind God-Expression, who exists at the heart of the Father, has made him plain as day.” (John 1)
I receive a weekly blog posting from an author I enjoy. This week she turned 40 and in her birthday blog mentioned that she’s “learned to love her scars”. I stopped and reread. Her words penetrated.
I have a weird interest in scars. I think they are beautiful. I want to know the story behind them. On a heart level, I love delving into scars there too. I think they can make people beautiful. I want to know the story behind them. I want to see how God surfaces in the story.
I spent part of tonight saying farewell to one of my favorite college freshmen. She’s getting on a plane tomorrow morning to head back to university after her first big Christmas break. She’s so much more mature than I was at her age. She lives her life connected to God. She is learning to live more connected to her own heart. She is learning to love her scars.
Sometimes when I am with students–really listening to their hearts, it takes me back to moments in a different place in time. Sometimes it is glorious, but sometimes it is painful. I am reminded of bad decisions I made in high school or college, of not seeing my place in the bigger story, of hurting someone, or of choosing ’second things’. It used to paralyze me, but with the benefit of time, a God who hasn’t given up on me, and a wonderful husband who is far more than who I could have ever dreamed of sharing my life with, I am learning to embrace the beautiful mess that is me. It’s been a long road, but I’ve learned to love my scars. It’s scary to write, but I even occasionally have glimpses of what it would be like to welcome future scars–knowing that they remind me of how much I need God and long to live my life really connected to Christ and to the special people that He’s allowing me to share this journey with.
Christmas is officially “over” by commercial standards. Yesterday while doing some returns I saw cute Valentine’s ‘must haves’ prominently displayed. True confession: I am not quite ready to let go of the season. Reality: I don’t have to. Thankfully, we are going to celebrate Epiphany at our wonderful church and continue to ponder the mystery of Christ’s birth and our place in the story. My friend Sarah sent me a beautiful poem in my Christmas card. I thought I would share it:
A stable lamp is lighted,
Whose glow shall wake the sky;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry.
And straw like gold shall shine;
A barn shall harbor heaven.
A stall become a shrine.
-Richard Wilbur
We had a wonderful Christmas with my parents and a post-Christmas trip to the beach with my parents and sister. The big boys surfed for the first time, and loved it! I’ll post pictures as soon as I receive them.
This month we wrote in our newsletter about the opportunity that we’ve had to be involved reaching out to students who are struggling with pornography addiction via Everystudent.com. Clint Clark, a counselor and support group leader in Colorado, provided the following list of resources for any of our readers who might share a similar struggle and want help.
SEXUAL ADDICTION RESOURCES
False Intimacy: Understanding the Struggle of Sexual Addiction, Harry
Schaumburg, NavPress, (1997).
Strength in Weakness: Healing Sexual and Relational Brokenness, Andrew
Comiskey, Intervarsity Press, (2003).
Out of the Shadows, Patrick Carnes, CompCare Publishing, (1988).
Don’t Call It Love, Patrick Carnes, Bantam (1991).
In the Shadows of the Net: Breaking Free of Compulsive Online Sexual Behavior,
Patrick Carnes, Hazelden Publishing & Educational Services ,(2001)
Addiction and Grace: Love and Spirituality in the Healing of Addictions, Gerald
May, Harper Collins, (1988).
No Stones: Women Redeemed from Sexual Shame, by Marnie C. Ferree, Xulon
Press, (2002).
Women, Sex, and Addiction: A Search for Love and Power, Charlotte Kasl,
Harper, (1990).
Where Do I Go From Here? Annette Comiskey, www.desertstream.org
Beauty and the Breach: Liberating Marriage from Sexual and Relational Sin,
Andrew Comiskey, www.desertstream.org.
Life Ministries, www.freedomeveryday.org, support group materials for men,
women, young men and spouses. Xulon Press.
SEXUAL ADDICTION RESOURCES
Practical Resources
Internet Filters and Blocks www.bsafehome.com www.cybersitter.com www.cyberpatrol.com
Accountability Software www.covenanteyes.com www.x3church.com/x3watch/
Therapeutic and Support Resources
Support
Sexaholics Anonymous – www.sa.org
Celebrate Recovery - www.celebraterecovery.com
Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous - www.slaafws.org
Sex Addicts Anonymous - www.saa-recovery.org
S-Anon - www.sanon.org; Support for those affected by someone else’s
sexual behavior
Recovering Couples Anonymous - www.recovering-couples.org
Counselors Clinton B. Clark, MA – Counselor and Support Group Facilitator; Areas
of focus: sexual compulsion/addiction, marriage counseling, sexual
abuse/trauma, individual therapy. clintclarkma@yahoo.com; 303.591.7675
Informational Resources
Designer Sex, Philip Yancey. Intervarsity Press, (2003).
The Pornography Trap: Setting Pastors and Laypersons Free from Sexual
Addiction, Mark Laaser and James Earl, Beacon Hill Press, (2002).
Faithful & True: Sexual Integirty In a Fallen World, Mark Laaser, Zondervan,
(1992).
Falling Forward: The Pursuit of Sexual Purity, Craig R. Lockwood, Desert Stream
Press, (2000). www.clintclarkma.com
I thought that I would share 2 creative prayer ideas that have really blessed me. I can’t take credit for either, but I hope that you will enjoy them as much as I have.
1. Prayer candle. My mom’s idea. My mom’s dear neighbor, Kathy, has been valiantly battling cancer. Mom lit a candle and literally kept it going in the kitchen window all the time as an ongoing reminder to pray for Kathy. She uses the tall, glass, inexpensive ones. She uses white. Since I have a few special friends (Kathy included) who are fighting similar battles, I decided to light my own candle. My house is accented in red, so I found a red one. It’s right next to my kitchen sink, in the middle of our house, where I spend the majority of my time. It’s a sweet reminder to pray for the women that I am standing with in prayer.
2. Year-round Christmas Card Basket. Bishop Cox and Betty’s idea. My precious mentor, Bishop William Cox, and his dear wife Betty put their Christmas cards in a basket that stays in the middle of their kitchen table year-round. Each meal they pull out a card and pray for the family on the card. My kids (especially Joseph) have loved doing this at our house. Joseph frequently reminds us to grab a card when we’ve forgotten.
I’ve been in full-time ministry for almost 13 years, but throughout that time I have really wrestled with trusting that God is good on a deep, heart level.It’s always bothered me that I doubt God’s goodness like I do, but I think that I resigned myself to the fact that this would always be a struggle.However, the battle intensified this summer while Rich and I were in Mexico City on a 5 week summer project with the boys, fellow Campus Crusade Staff, and 70 + Missionary Kids.As I walked through some really challenging circumstances with some of the students who were dealing with unbelievable things like incest, a faith crisis, and struggles with friends, I was also facing my own grief with the daily reality of life amidst deep suffering.Mexico City has 1 million street children aged 4-12, and that is just the tip of the iceberg in terms of their poverty.As the summer marched on, my heart stopped and did an about face.It was like I stuck out my arm to the Lord to go no further.It was just too painful and scary to be close to Him.When were the bad things going to happen to me and my family?
I have always been a deep feeler with my heart and brain on overdrive.As a small child, I used to pray that Satan would become a Christian.When we ate dinner out at Luby’s Cafeteria, I would burst into tears if I saw a Senior Citizen who was eating alone.As an adult, the way this battle plays out is in my heart and thought life.When I see a struggling homeless person, I immediately wonder why it’s not me.As I’ve been walking through life with my dear friend Kelly, a widow with 2 small boys, I cry out to God on her behalf while simultaneously wrestling with God as to why He would allow this to happen.
One of my life values is that my insides match my outsides.I have become increasingly aware of the disconnect in this part of my life.On the outside, I move forward in courageous obedience, but on the inside I am hiding under the bed afraid of God as if He is the boogy man.The analogy I’ve made is that I am hanging on tightly, hands shaking, waiting for the next bad thing to happen.Recently, I started really looking at the struggle up close, and I asked a dear, trusted mentor if she thought that this was the thorn in my flesh or if it was something that I needed to unpack more.We agreed that it was more, but that ultimately God was the one who had to heal my heart.I honestly didn’t even know where to start, but thankfully, God was already pursuing me in a life-changing way.
The team that Rich and I serve on within Campus Crusade is so wonderful.Last month we had our annual team retreat.We were required to present a Life Map that outlined the major events in our life journey, ranking them from -10 to 10.I’ve done many life maps over the years, so I didn’t really even think much of it.It was just something that we were going to do to get to know our team better.But filling in the blanks was like shining a floodlight into the darkest, scariest parts of my heart.For the first time I really saw why I feel like I am hanging on and waiting for the next tragedy.
When I was 9, my sister was sexually abused by a neighbor.When I was 10, my mother, sister, and I were involved in an armed robbery.When I was 12 we moved.That same year, my mom suffered from a stroke.When I was 13, I was in a school bus accident.That same year my Dad lost his job twice.We went from living a comfortable middle class lifestyle to being unable to make ends meet.At 14, my parents filed bankruptcy, and we lost ‘everything.’
I know that many of you have probably suffered more than I did, and I definitely don’t want to paint a totally bleak picture.During those same years, I became a Christian, had more incredible opportunities to thrive in my small Texas town than any child deserves, and I watched my parents’ love deepen through unbelievable struggles.The point I want to make, is that as I was writing my life map, I saw the pattern of hanging on terrified of what was around the corner, while going on with normal daily life.That is what 10 of my most formative years were like.
However, it was time to break the pattern.I knew that God showed me this because He wanted to heal me.
I long to be the kind of woman who lives in freedom.I want my internal posture to be a woman totally surrendered to God and deeply in love with him.I long to be able to face trials when they come with a deep and abiding faith—not hanging on for dear life all the time as if life is like a walk across a tightrope.I long to live without fear and worry being the true songs of my heart.God had some major work to do, and it’s begun.
At our team retreat in addition to presenting our life maps, our wonderful team leader Ken led us in a two day study of Servant Leadership.A few things really stuck out to me.One was “growth in character by the servant leader must always be kept in view.The two biggest things that harm the opportunity for character growth are pride (self-promotion) and fear (self-protection).He went on to ask the question “what flesh patterns did you see repeated in your childhood?”It was a huge “ah-ha” as I recounted my mantra of trusting no one but myself.I also started the pattern of wanting to know ‘why’ for everything that God has done.As you know, this just isn’t how God works.
As Ken continued sharing about Servant Leadership, I took a scary step and shared my struggle with our team.I felt stupid and naked.I wished that I could take the words back.However, a few of our teammates initiated great conversations throughout the retreat and promised to pray for me.During our last meal, one friend shared Psalm 131 with me.God used this beautiful scripture to speak to me.
O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high.
I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me.
But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.
O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore.
It’s really hard to describe what happens when God moves in your heart, but I’ll take a stab at it.As I read this Psalm, I felt as if the Lord was speaking directly to me.For starters, I need to not occupy myself with understanding every mystery of God—the whys and what ifs are not for me to know right now.The second thing that literally quieted my soul was the picture of a weaned child with its mother.After nursing three boys, I know what the clamoring of a hungry nursing baby is like, and I know what the satisfaction of a weaned child is like.God was asking me to calm and quiet my soul and He was leading out.
I have not been miraculously healed in a one-time event, but I am humbled to share that God is working in me each day.As I have scary, fearful thoughts, I am learning to take them captive and talk to God about them.I’ve also noticed a different kind of thought creeping in. I’ll have a scary thought, and I follow it to its logical conclusion in a fearless way.It looks something like this: yesterday I had a thought pop into my head about getting breast cancer.I actually followed the thought to the scary parts and changed the ending with my family being o.k., God being glorified, sharing Christ with the people in the hospital, and rejoicing at the opportunity to take a nap in my hospital bed, which rarely ever happens at this stage of my life.Like a typical mom, this internal dialogue all happened in a matter of seconds while I was making peanut butter sandwiches for the kids.But I experienced peace instead of incredible fear that my kids would grow up without a mother, that God is mean to let people get cancer, and that it was inevitable that I would be one of them.Can you see the difference?
In this mental ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’, I chose to respond in a way that honored God and matched up with my life calling and purpose which is “to walk closely and fearlessly with God, loving him with my heart, soul, mind and strength, and inviting others to do the same while loving them well.”
It was a HUGE victory for me!
I share this with you today because maybe, just maybe, in light of our country’s political and economic crisis, many of you might be battling fear too.Thoughts of what if, how are we going to pay for this, and why Lord, are plaguing the average citizen from Joe the plumber to Suzy the working mom, to Kourtney the missionary (feel free to insert your own name into the equation).We women are masters of smiling and engaging in daily life while we are internally fighting World War III with our fearful thoughts.
Today I want to encourage you to take some time away with the Lord and raise a white flag—a time of intentional surrender to His special story for your life—the good as well as the painful.The second thing I want to encourage you to do is to surrender your rights.Only you know what you are hanging onto with clenched fists—a house, someone’s health, a challenging child, your spouse’s addiction, a sick parent, your retirement account.I want to encourage you to give up your rights to these things and give them back to the Lord.It might be painful.You might even have to symbolically pry open your fingers like my friend Karalee does when she gives something back to the Lord, but I encourage you to be courageous and bold—making as Alcoholics Anonymous would say “a fearless moral inventory” of what you are clinging to.
Finally, I encourage you to write a formal prayer of commitment that you will choose to be a herald of the Lord during this season of our world’s history.You are called to be a herald, or a missionary, just like me.But your scope is your own personal sphere of influence—only you know who that is.
In conclusion, I pray that we would all continue in this pattern of surrender.In the beginning, it might be 20 times of surrendering the first day.But my prayer is that the discipline of surrendering our rights to the Lord would become a habit—that eventually our internal dialogue would automatically go to trusting God first.
On the back of our retreat notebook was this beautiful poem.When I spoke in Phoenix, I had everyone close their eyes while I read it.You obviously can’t do that right now, but maybe you can say it as a prayer back to the Lord as you read it today.
He Had No Rights
Mabel Williamson, former OMF Missionary to China
He had no rights:
No right to a soft bed, and a well-laid table;
No right to a home of His own, a place where His own pleasure might be sought;
No right to choose pleasant, congenial companions, those who could understand him and sympathize with him;
No right to shrink away from filth and sin, to pull His garments closer around Him and turn aside to walk cleaner paths;
No right to be understood and appreciated; no, not by those upon whom He had poured out a double portion of His love;
No right even never to be forsaken by His Father, the One who meant more than all to Him.
His only right was silently to endure shame, spitting, blows; to take His place as a sinner at the dock; to bear my sins in anguish on the cross.
He had no rights.And I?
A right to the comforts of life?No, but a right to the love of God for my pillow.
A right to physical safety?No, but a right to the security of being in His will.
A right to love and sympathy from those around me?No but a right to the friendship of the One to whom I have given my all, led as is a little child, with its hand in the hand of its father.
A right to a home and dear ones?No, not necessarily; but a right to dwell in the heart of God.
A right to myself?No, but oh, I have a right to Christ.
All that He takes I will give;
All that He gives I will take;
He, my only right!
He, the one right before which all other rights fade into nothingness.
I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed my French laundry detergent. As I’ve unpacked various boxes of linens and children’s clothes over the last two years, I’ve remarked about how much I miss the smell of our clothes and our home in France. I’ve been on a psycho mission here in the USA to find something that smells even remotely similar to my Ariel. Today was like Christmas as Rich just returned home from Egypt with a huge (literally) surprise–two jumbo bags of Ariel. My house already smells like ‘home’ on rue des Epis.
I love Buzz Lightyear. The Buzz Ride is my favorite ride at Disney. I feel satisfied at the end when the high score on my laser gun proves that I’ve defeated the evil Zurg–all while encouraging a four year old, holding a toddler and smiling for a camera in the dark. Like Buzz, I can relate to wanting to save the world. “To infinity and beyond” doesn’t seem so far fetched and unrealistic. I was like this as a child too.
Besides wanting to save the world, I feel so endeared to good old Buzz because he is a Space Ranger. I have always been in awe of the Space Program. I remember exactly where I was when the Challenger exploded–in the cafeteria in 6th grade eating lunch. I can see Mrs. Corn’s face and smell the smells when she announced the tragedy. I loved visiting the Johnson Space Center in Houston. Until I realized how nauseous I might really get, I actually considered what it would take to be an astronaut.
But my favorite reason by far for loving space is that two of my favorite spiritual mentors are Apollo astronaut, Charlie Duke and his dear wife, Dottie (please see www.charlieduke.net). Growing up in our little Episcopal church in Texas, Dottie and Charlie prayed me through my teenage angst and were always so loving and encouraging of me…and still are. I just loved Charlie and Dottie so much that although I knew that it was a big deal that Charlie was an astronaut, I didn’t really get it until I had three little boys (and one big boy).
My boys are totally into space. They have astronaut outfits for dress up, and when they were included in our lunch with Grand Duke and Dottie in January, they fought over who got to sit next to them. So imagine my joy today (enough to finally sit down and add to my blog after four months) when after almost exactly two years of living in Florida, we finally saw a Space Shuttle launch. We’ve made numerous attempts that were foiled by weather and other acts of God. But thankfully, today at 5:02 pm surrounded by a huge crowd of people, the Streets heard the countdown, felt the trembling rumble, and saw the shooting fire. Even little David knew that something was special. He kept pointing to the sky and “talking.” I couldn’t help but cry.
I think it will take me a while to process what I experienced today. I am not gifted in science and all things mechanical and technical. What I saw today was mind blowing. I just can’t comprehend what it takes to launch people into space. It’s all wrapped up for me in Buzz’s mantra “To infinity and beyond” which has such radical spiritual implications. The launch and subsequent space adventure has illuminated for me that it is all so big out there. I can’t get my finite mind around my infinite heavenly father. Thankfully, I’ll have “infinity and beyond” to ponder…
