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8 May 2014

Heart Conditions

posted by Susan

“I care not for a man’s religion whose dog and cat are not better for it.”

–Abraham Lincoln

While I love reading historical biographies of remarkable people, I’m particularly fascinated to learn about things that shaped their childhoods. What’s the real story behind the familiar one? What early events, influences, relationships and turning points affected them in their youth? What were those famous people like behind the scenes when their lives seemed more ordinary? Or like Abraham Lincoln essentially asked: How did they treat the dog and the cat?

The best stories, I’ve found, were in the kids’ section of our local library. Biographers often focused on childhood tales because of their intended audience. I will never forget one story about Abraham Lincoln. With all that has been written about that great man, this account is relatively unknown. Here it is, as I remember…

It happened one summer afternoon. Young Abe and his sister, Sally, set out to play in the woods behind their rustic cabin. They headed toward a certain stream. After walking a good distance, it felt good to cool their weary feet in the flowing water. Abe suddenly noticed a good-sized fish lingering in a deeper pool. He didn’t bring a pole, but made up his mind then and there to catch that fish with his bare hands. Positioning himself, he waited patiently for the right moment.Continue reading

Filed Under: 2014, Character, Experiencing God Tagged With: Abraham Lincoln, authenticity, barriers, character development, childhood influences, Choices, Destiny, experiencing God, historical biographies, purity, Relationship with God

17 April 2014

Kind Warnings

posted by Susan

So by now, you’re probably wondering about the third word. Several weeks ago I wrote about three words that flashed through my mind one night, when I was nearly asleep. I wrenched myself awake to find a notebook in the dark. I didn’t understand what God might be saying, but jotted the words down anyway.

The words were BEMOAN, REDRESS, and RECRIMINATE. Thirty-six hours later, my bemoaning surfaced, and I cried my eyes out. Two days after that fitful episode, God redressed the issue through a dream. And that led to the significance of the third word.

Recriminate means to accuse somebody in return, a countercharge or retaliation.

One dictionary said “endless accusation.”

Bemoaning becomes recrimination if we fail to redress root issues. In other words, unresolved pain becomes a festering wound that triggers perpetual conflict—the rip-and-tear kind. Sounds like hell, right?

Years ago, I came across this quote on quarreling:

“As Christians we must of course repent of all the anger, malice, and self-will which allowed the discussion to become, on our side, a quarrel at all. But there is also the question on a far lower level: “granted the quarrel…did you fight fair?”Continue reading

Filed Under: 2014, Barriers, Experiencing God Tagged With: accusation, apologies, authenticity, Bemoan, C.S. Lewis, experiencing God, fighting, forgiveness, Overcoming disappointment, Quarreling, Recrimination, Redress

3 April 2014

God’s Redress

posted by Susan

Last week, I discussed the word “bemoan” – a normal response to pain. Especially stored-up pain. To fully understand the next several posts, you may need to go back and read it.

The second word, of the three that God gave me in the night, was “redress.” It means to set right, remedy, relieve distress, and bring correction or retribution. The words came initially as an enigma, because I was not in a thinking-them-up posture. I took notice though and searched them out, always valuing the possibility that God might speak to me.

Two days later, God pried open a pocket of deep sorrow, and I cried my eyes out. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Some ugly words and thoughts surfaced. A pile of snotty Kleenexes. Puffy eyes. Embarrassment. A deep ache in my chest.

It had to do with not feeling “place.” God wanted to redress that with me.

Let me explain.

Years ago, Gordon Dalbey, a wonderful teacher and author, prayed with me. He said a spirit of abdication had formed over my life since childhood. Abdicate means to renounce or relinquish a throne, right, power, claim, responsibility, or the like. “God wants you to take your rightful place,” he said.

In our youth, we all form a sense of self. Though I had stable and loving parents, by nature I was a shy and quiet girl. I learned what to say and do by taking cues from others. It was fertile ground for codependency.

While that is a natural response, maturity should bring a sense of self that is healthy, robust, and has boundaries. But I didn’t know the line where other people ended and I began. It seemed far easier to adapt myself to others. For years, I fostered a mirage of unity by playing the game of peace-at-any-price. I submerged myself to fill the gap of differences—an illusion of intimacy.

My fear was this—if I live fully alive, sparks will fly.

Self-discovery came slowly and later in my life.Continue reading