Tag Archives: Grace

A Lot Like Dying…

13 Thursday Nov 2014

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When I first thought of this post three months ago, my aim was to highlight the beauty of life…just the gift that each moment (crazy and otherwise) is. Moving from home made me realise the impact my absolutely boring life had on so many people I hold dear, and it hit me: people would miss me if I died. I am by no means unique in that regard, so, as is the case with most of my ‘light bulb’ moments, my mind penned a post. And then life happened.

It shouldn’t be possible for so much to change in 90 days. Then again, maybe nothing changed, and that is the problem. I don’t know, but I think we all have at least one thing that, if it were different, we’re convinced we would be different. Whereas I didn’t blame my environment for the scary creature I was, part of me retained the hope that a change of environment would lead to the blossoming of a better Lori. I’m not known for my optimism, so this ‘better Lori’ was pretty basic. You know, maybe just a few notches below ‘normal, functioning human being’.

Funny enough, so many things in my life are finally going right. I am closer than ever to financial independence (however real that struggle is), I have access to the resources I need to get my health on track, I finally have the time and space to get to know myself and God again, and I’ve met some awesome people. What could go wrong?

Deception is a bittersweet poison. I knew better, but I really thought I could get my act together. That act needs to be abandoned. I am never going to be some new and improved version of myself, because I can never outrun the kind of propensity for self-destruction that composes the fibre of who I am. No amount of effort will disguise the stench of death that clings to me…that I cling to. I am never, no matter how fit I get, going to outrun myself.

I have the things I thought I would never have, a life I can finally enjoy, yet I have never felt closer to death. This is the truth I must own–that, even at my best, I’ll do my worst. Seems that should have me running to the Saviour.

‘Cause I am a sinner
If it’s not one thing, it’s another
Caught up in words
Tangled in lies
You are the Saviour
And You take brokenness aside
And make it beautiful.

“Brokenness Aside” by All Sons and Daughters
Words and music by Leslie Jordan and David Leonard
© 2011 Integrity Music
CCLI#: 5881109

Grace in the Wilderness

31 Thursday Oct 2013

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punitive – adjective: inflicting or intended as punishment. (Thanks to the lovely folks at Google Dictionary.)

If there’s one area of life I can claim deep familiarity with, it’s that of making mistakes. And not just any mistakes, mind you–the kind that make people cringe, that inspire head-shaking on a wide scale…the kind that prove the extent of my tendency towards self-destruction.

Against that background, the linking of “what” and “if” become inevitable, and how I torture myself. Whereas it is undoubtedly healthy to acknowledge that actions have consequences, being the extremist I am, I struggle with the idea that my life could be anything but a lost cause. When there’s a clear picture of what your life not just could, but should, have been…and it’s excruciatingly evident that the disparity between that and your reality can readily be attributed to your actions, hope proves elusive. 

“This is not punitive” — words that have been engraved into my subconscious, despite the raging battle to remember just how solid and life-altering they are. And I forget. Often. More often than I remember. When you’ve wrecked your own life, you begin to think you deserve whatever comes your way…if you’re anything like me, that is.

How very…human of me. If I wasn’t wise or powerful enough to do what was within my reach, by what stretch of the imagination would I then be able to set my life on an unalterable course? As crazy as life may be, as much as “this is my fault” rings true…this is not punitive.  

God definitely allows us to make our own choices, but He cannot act outside of His own nature. God is Love; He is Redeemer. He longs to lift us from pits of our own making. Our demise is never the goal of anything God does. Even when we have driven ourselves to destruction’s door, He can rescue, He can pull us back to Him. As a writer, that makes so much sense to me. Characters rarely follow precisely the path laid out for them, but they’re still only in the story. They’re not exercising sovereignty over the writing process, especially for the ending.

Why would I not trust the Author of Life to resolve convoluted conflicts of my own making…not trust Him to still give me a good story, even if it varies from the perceived original intention? Why not trust the One who made people, knowing they would fail–who put in place the perfect plan of salvation BEFORE sin was even imagined…before the first sinners were created? Why. Not?

No matter what we’ve brought upon ourselves, we have not moved ourselves beyond the reach of grace. True victory is not found in convenience, or even in a change of circumstance, but in the discovery of God’s heart–a heart overflowing with good intentions towards us, a heart that disciplines us out of love. The heart of the One who is with us in the agony of the wilderness, and has put grace there for us to find.

This…is…not…punitive. Maybe you need that reminder as much as I do.

Thus says the Lord:

“The people who survived the sword
Found grace in the wilderness—
Israel, when I went to give him rest.”
3 The Lord has appeared of old to me, saying:
“Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love;
Therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you.

Jeremiah 31:2,3
The Holy Bible, New King James Version
Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.

Something More…

25 Tuesday Jun 2013

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It is no secret that, of all the things I’ve done with my life, living hasn’t been one of them. From time to time, the reality of my mortality works its way into my consciousness, and there’s that inescapable question of when (whether?) I will finally learn what it means to live. Finally decide to live.

Whereas I’ve missed out on so many things that were quite within reach, none of those things, or any combination thereof, had the power to shake me up by virtue of its absence. Usually, being unshakable is a good thing, but when you’re Lori? Not so much.

Discontent has somehow managed to provide the illusion of safety–as if I needed further proof of my insanity. Oh, to step out of that wretched yet beloved prison of my own carving. To taste even the tiniest morsel of the elusive entity we know as freedom.

To be more than a wounded soul most at home in its own poison.

To remember You.

And now, Lord, what wait I for? My hope is in Thee.

Psalm 39:3 (KJV)

Great

Image source

 

Solitaire?

08 Wednesday May 2013

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I’m the only one who can live my life.

That has got to be the scariest thing I’ve thought about in a long while. Whereas it’s indisputable that I’m, at heart, a loner, there’s phantom comfort in knowing that looking around does not yield a barren landscape. I’m so used to living on the fringes of my world (my sister would say the problem is that I have a world…:P) that I don’t often spend time in it. The price paid for that tends to be total disrepair.

Change is hard…and I have to change. As great and supportive as people are/can be, and as grateful as I am for the amazing people in my life, no one can do this for me. No one can hold my hand through the process of learning to breathe…not to the point that they can make me function in ways I refuse to. No one can make me get up one day and decide to do more than take fleeting glances at what it means to live. I want no one to.

I’ve never been that person who can’t be alone, who doesn’t know the value of silence, who finds the company of self to be petrifying. In the same breath, the alternative leaves me most out of my depth. This is who I am. Just a weirdo trying to glean lessons without having to be knocked senseless first. I’m no superhero. I’m not even a real person most days, but I’d like to think I’m learning what that looks like.

This is who I am…and I embrace that fully, remaining cognizant of the reality that I am not static. I will not always be this person, but if I don’t engage in the process, I may not like the person I become.

I’m the only one who can live my life. And, I will.

Thus says the Lord God to these bones: ‘Behold, I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. And I will lay sinews upon you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live, and you shall know that I am the Lord.’

Ezekiel 37:5, 6 (ESV)
The Holy Bible, English Standard Version Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a division of Good News Publishers.

Sabotage

17 Wednesday Apr 2013

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Fear is one of those things I don’t process well. I just don’t have many active fears. I have huge categories of fears, and then they morph into…aversions. 😛 Weird as it sounds, I think I have an aversion to “good”. As soon as my life begins to look up, as soon as I begin to make smart choices, something in me retaliates by finding the quickest way to sabotage it.

I think this would be easier to handle if it were deliberate. It is so intrinsic and so entrenched in the essence of Lori that I very often don’t see it outside of the lens of retrospect. But, I see it now. I’ve seen it before. And, I can’t change it. Maybe that’s what I need to embrace. Left up to my own devices, all I can do is kill myself, succeed only in depriving my soul of one breath at a time.

And, you know, part of me says this shouldn’t be so. I mean, I’m smart enough (I reckon), I’ve known God long enough, I have enough amazing people in my life for this to not be who and what I revert to with such ease. I know God saw this–saw me–coming, and still chose me. Gladly. He didn’t choose me to remain as I am, though. He chose me to remain in Him. But, I don’t…won’t?

Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s the same plight plaguing all of humanity — that innate core of rebellion against the Creator. Whatever the case, I can’t keep living as if God is a liar…as if the life He offers is somehow on a plane that ought not to impact and define my everyday life. I cannot persist in the distorted reality I call ‘grace’, for if grace were seen correctly, if grace were my reality, would it not spur me on to abundance of life? To obedience? My head gets grace, but my heart? Well, that story is perhaps best left untold.

So, why continue to kill saplings of anything good and beautiful in my life? Why act as if my worth is such that I’m most content within the confines of Suckville? Why, if I love myself as much as I’m convinced I do, won’t I give myself the best possible chance at life? Or, any chance, for that matter?

I can’t be alone in this…well, I hope not. Undoubtedly, I’m extreme, but there are elements of sabotage in each of us. How easily we tend towards our own destruction. Overcoming that tendency may lie outside of our reach, but there’s nothing to stop us from embracing it…and giving it to the Only One who can make us into what we were designed to be.

O Israel, you have destroyed yourself; but in Me is your help. I will be your king: where is any other that may save you…?

Hosea 13:9, 10 (KJV [paraphrased])

My Jorge, one of the best friends a Lori could ask for, gave me this song. (Fine, her name is Georgia…and how much I love her? No words…) Like, she’s all sunshine, rainbows, and pink rooms sometimes, and I kinda thought the song was along those lines, but it’s…sneaky. Maybe it’ll sneak up on you, too. 

Waiting for “The One”

23 Saturday Mar 2013

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You know, despite my sometimes realistic (fine, cynical) outlook, it seems the major part of me is still waiting for “the one”. Now, before some people fall off their chairs, let’s clear this up. We are by no means referring to this one person who is supposed to complete me (*ick*). Not only does no such person exist outside of the fertile ground of the imagination, that is too great a burden to place on anyone’s shoulders. But, we digress…

One of the promises I made in my last blog was that I’d stop lying to myself. Facing the truth is…more difficult than my vocabulary would permit me to express. It seems I’m still waiting for this one great thing that will change me…in ways that the combined efforts of the events of the past 27 years have been unable to.

(The above paragraphs were written on March 4. I’m not even sure why I didn’t finish.) This has been a better week than most, thanks to the sheer grace of God, which led to my admission that all I can do is fail. Like, I’m not sure whether other people have such limitations, but I. Rather. Suck. I mean, I’ll know I have things to do and, if I can’t be bothered, I won’t do them. I’ll know what I should do to improve my health, and just not do it. A fear of negative consequences has never been one of the driving forces of my life. If I’m honest, I’ll say I have no driving forces. See why I need Jesus? Teehee.

But, yes, this week has been good. I’ve been productive, disciplined, wise about my health, and I’ve even been nice to people. That, however, has evaporated, man. I’m just not capable of sustaining all that. I don’t have to–easily the best news ever. Yes, I’m still doing those things ±being-nice-to-people, but I constantly need the reminder that there is no great “one”. No one verse of Scripture that will so challenge my heart that I will turn from the wicked ways I’ve made my refuge…no one song that will so galvanise my soul that I will begin to care…no one teaching, camp, gathering, person, decision, act of the human will with sufficient potency to change the very me that is.

“The one” is both not coming and already here. Maybe “the one” isn’t an isolated act, but a series. Maybe it is not that epic moment, but those tiny moments that shape the fabric of humanity as gently and indelibly as water shapes rock. Maybe it is one day at a time, one moment at a time, one breath at a time, all fueled by grace.

Seems to me God has a plan. HE calls us. He calls us to Him; He says all we need to do is come. God doesn’t need an outline of how we’re proposing to be true to Him in the future. We don’t need to impress Him with our reliability–as if we could. Salvation is a gift, not a loan. We need only to accept His gift and live in, and by, His power to please Him. 

I know not where the future leads. Honestly, based on the mural presented by the past and present, I’d rather not know. What I know is I have today. We have today. We have joys and tears, strengths and failings, and all the other contrasts that make us human. And we have the One who saw us coming. The One who made us, knowing full well how much we would fail, how much we would need Him. And still made us, still loves us. Still delights in us.

We have the God who is Love, the only “One” worth waiting for.

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

— “Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing” (Robert Robinson, 1758)

Saying Goodbye

07 Monday Jan 2013

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Not too long ago, I said goodbye to what was easily my favourite television show. Granted, I do not watch much TV, but it was the first show in a long time to really engage me. It was simply brilliant, which usually means cancellation is only a matter of time, but it was fun while it lasted.

The thing is, I’m not that great at goodbyes. Sure, I’m not one of those clingers, but I’d probably prefer if some things didn’t have to end. Still, goodbyes can be good, and the time has come to bid farewell:

To the pursuit of perfection. I said in a previous post that “For all my talk of not caring, I’m a bit of a paradoxical perfectionist. I’d rather do nothing, than not give something my best (very often, an unrealistic best).” Even if failure is assured, I should still try, for therein lies the true test of what is inside me. 

To the idea that my life is somehow ruined because the past ten years quite drastically diverged from the path projected by the first seventeen. This is where and who I am. I am not an unfortunate tale, not a mass of one “if only” after another. Everyone’s story is different and, ideal or not, I fully embrace this as mine. And you know what? For the first time in maybe forever, I’m excited to see where the road will lead.

To the lies I’m so famous for telling myself. As much as the dark has been my refuge, it makes no sense to keep hiding. God is Light; there is no darkness in Him. Sunrise follows sunset, and I’ve chosen to stay hidden in shadow because it is comfortable. Content to remain in the prison of the familiar, I’ve dropped out of the human race, but no more.

To the belief that I can do this. Maybe other people can, but I can’t–not of my own strength, anyway. I’m much too passive to take life by the reins and send it where I want it to go. I have no trail to blaze; no frontier to claim. I possess no grand dreams of changing the world; no great mark to etch on the surface of history. What I do have is a Saviour who makes all things new; a God who delights in redeeming those who can do nothing but fail. I have friends–amazing ones–and family…people who care, and that rocks.

All I have is grace…and that’s enough.

Our humanity is the perfect canvas on which to display the masterpiece of God’s Divinity.

An amazing young lady I know wrote this song. It has this irksome way of teasing my soul into the light, but I reckon that is a good thing. May God continue to bless you, Sasha.

I Tell Myself…

07 Friday Dec 2012

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…what I want to hear…and then I tell myself I don’t want to hear it. By then, it’s already too late, and I’ve managed only to dig myself deeper into this hole I tell myself I want to come out of.

…what I don’t want to hear, and then I use it as an excuse to not do anything about it…”Oh, at least I know what the problem is”, and then I tell myself that’s progress.

…that I’m changing, perhaps finally growing up. After all, if I can perceive the lies I tell myself, it must mean I’m moving in the right direction.

…that I’ll never change, and this growing up thing is yet another doomed seed planted in the fertile soil that functions as my imagination. After all, if I can perceive the lies I tell myself, yet hold on to them, it must mean I am even more of a moron than I thought.

…to hope and dream. How else will my soul catch those much-needed breaths? Of all the things I tell myself, this is perhaps my least favourite.

…not to hope and dream. How else will my heart remain in the seclusion that guarantees my sanity? Of all the things I tell myself, this is perhaps the most dangerous…

…I love You, and then I tell myself I’m wrong.

…I don’t love You, and then I tell myself all the reasons I must be right.

…to shut up, for it is long overdue.

…to talk to You…and that just may be the best thing I tell myself.

Thus says the Lord:“The people who survived the sword Found grace in the wilderness—Israel, when I went to give him rest.”

The Lord has appeared of old to me, saying: “Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love, therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you.

Jeremiah 31:2, 3 (NKJV)

The Holy Bible, New King James Version Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.

The Power of Weakness

03 Wednesday Oct 2012

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What do you do when you get to the end of yourself? What will it take to get you there?

It’s funny how I’ll know something is true, but spend years denying it. I know I can’t be trusted. As much as I appear to have it together on some levels, there’s just something in me that tends towards my own destruction–gleefully.

Even knowing that I can’t be trusted to do something as simple as brush my teeth every night or take a shower every day (most days, though. Teehee), I still want to get things right. I want to be strong enough to resist the things I know I should stay away from. Why? Because I know I should stay away from them. I want to not do what I know is wrong. I want to be strong, but I’m not. I’m terribly, terribly weak.

Not only am I frail beyond my own comprehension, I also delight in things I ought not to. No matter how I try to deny it, no matter how I take refuge in the illusion of improvement, this is who I am.

But, this is good news–excellent, even. I can’t make myself different. There isn’t going to come a day when my desires will suddenly line up with military precision to the standards of morally acceptable conduct. There won’t be a day when I wake up loving God above all, and hating sin (general or specific) to the point of utter repulsion. It’s just not coming.

It doesn’t need to.

See, when I stopped trying to fix myself, and just embraced the reality that I am truly wicked, I had to fall on God’s mercy. All these things I ought not to do will never fade by human effort. Only God can change me. God, who loves me as I am, just wants me to look into His eyes and give myself to Him, wretch that I am. That is where the fullness of joy comes from … from seeing God and knowing He is Love … from facing the reality of my own brokenness and the incomparable greatness of the God who makes all things new.

So, what’s your story, your “struggle”? I won’t say it doesn’t matter, but it is not the hindrance you may think it is. God knew us in advance, and He chose us. He saw that we’d fail, saw that we’d watch pornography, have sex when we shouldn’t, have homosexual desires, have abortions, kill, rape, steal, hate, lie … saw that we’d willingly and gladly worship all but Him. He saw that, and He loved us … still loves us.

He saw us, and He chose us … He delights in us through Jesus, as we are.

Let’s just be honest with ourselves. We’re not gonna beat those things, and the sooner we face it, the better. God longs to bring us to Him, to transform us as we fix our eyes on Him. He is the goal, not acceptable behaviour. Let’s be honest with God. Let’s be honest with each other. We suck, and it’s okay.

I dare you. Open up to God. Open up to someone about your struggles, someone who will pray with and for you … someone who will love on you. See where it leads.

Perhaps the first step to freedom is facing the power of our own weakness.

Of Fat and Sin

23 Monday Apr 2012

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Disclaimer:  This post is in no way attempting to imply that being fat is a sin. That’s a debate for those with enough time on their hands. Teehee. That said…

So, I finally left Jamaica. (I can strike that off my list.) Being here in St. Lucia with my sister is pretty cool, but there’s just one problem: there are too many mirrors in this house, man. Everywhere I went, I could see myself. Seriously? Like, how many mirrors does one house need?

Point? I finally SAW how much weight I had put on. Now, I’ve never been small by any stretch of anyone’s imagination, but this is the heaviest I’ve been in my whole life. In the words of a dear friend of mine, “You’re huge.” Being fat has never bugged me. It has been a part of my life forever, and I was never around people who made me feel worthless as a result, so I guess it was easy to…well, not notice that I was REALLY packing on the pounds, man. (No, no, now is not the time to mention my almost obsessive aversion to shrinking.)

Like, you don’t see the weight going on…well, I didn’t. I rarely ever use a mirror, because I already know what I look like, and, though I don’t have a lot of clothes, I have enough to know what they look like on me. Now, let’s not be silly, of course I knew I was putting on weight. I could also tell that my newly-acquired inactive lifestyle (chores only require so much activity and no more) was affecting me. I used to dance several hours a week, now I can’t easily climb a flight of stairs. Fitness issue much.

So, how did we arrive at the title for the blog post? Sin is pretty much the same way. Just as I knew I was putting on weight, but not to what extent, we know we’re slipping from God and we often don’t realise just how much until we’ve done something we never thought we would do. Like, it’s maybe an ounce at a time, one little misdeed at a time, but we know we’re pretty far from where He wants us. Like, I live on a hill. If I wanted to exercise, I could have. In the same way, we know we can go to God and have Him shape us into His image, but we don’t, for whatever reason. Maybe we say it’s too late, or maybe we haven’t yet allowed that moment of truth.

My moment of truth came last week. How? I bought a scale (a really hot scale, too :P). Now, I had a vague idea how much I weighed, but maybe I was secretly hoping it was less, especially since I’ve been kinda eating properly since getting here. SO, hot scale’s electric blue LCD output hit me for six.

291

Yep, you saw right, Yanique. I used to joke that I’m pushing 300, but seeing it? No fun. I’ve joined a gym at last (we’ll save that for another blog post), and I walk more, so maybe there’s hope. We’ll see. Less about the numbers, and more about getting my health and fitness back. Anyway…

I know people who would probably slash their wrists if they got to my size, yet I’m pretty certain we’re not that vigilant about sin. We’re not that vigilant about the things that are pulling us away from God, one tiny step or giant leap at a time.

It’s not easy to get back on track, but it can be done. For example, I went to a circuit training class last week… A few minutes in, I was like, “I am dead.” Like, I literally said it. My arm muscles were shot and my thighs weren’t much better, but I made it! And, I’ll be going again this week.

So, maybe the road back to God is one tiny step at a time…maybe a crawl, but go. He’s always waiting, arms open. And He’s more patient and helpful than any trainer on the planet, even that nice one who told me, “Don’t watch the numbers, just do what you can.” (Man, did I ever say Amen!) Maybe you’re wondering how you’ll ever get back to where you were, but do what you can. It’s all by God’s strength, anyway, and His grace is greater than our every weakness.

All the best on your journey (back) to God’s heart. In the words of another dear friend of mine, “Let the Spirit guide you.”