Tag Archives: love

There’s a Plank In Your Eye, Miss!

“Judge not, that you be not judged.  For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you.  Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?

Matthew 7:1-3 ESV

Ah…this scripture. I love it and yet…I find that it drives a stake right into my heart every time I read it. Yes, it kills the monster in me that just want to scream “You’re a fool!” to some random person. You see, I can’t do that because I’m a fool, too.

We all are going to make mistakes daily. We’re all struggling in some way to do something right all the time, but we’re never going to reach perfection. We’re not God. We are called to sharpen our brothers and sisters by gently rebuking them, redirecting their attention to the scriptures and by praying for them, but we are never called to monitor their every move in order to harshly judge them or call them a fool. Search your hearts, brothers and sisters. You may not be doing exactly that, but there may be something similar going on in your life right now and you…as well as I, need to stop it right now.

We are not loving our neighbor when we’re people watching only to create websites that display the foolishness of humanity. ( Yes, I’m talking to you, People of Wal-Mart.) We are not loving our neighbor when we call out their insecurities and make fun of them for it. We are not loving our neighbor when we feign friendship only to gain insight for scholarly gain. (Term papers, social studies, etc.) And we are certainly not loving our neighbor when we’re consistently, without love, calling out our neighbor for mistakes they’ve made in life. You know what I’m talking about. We’ve all done some variation of this. We have to check our hearts, folks. If we’re not correcting out of love and concern for their souls, we’re judging harshly and inappropriately. Check your heart and then lead your heart.

Most of us will naturally become annoyed with anyone with whom we’ve spent too much time. We’ll step on each others’ toes and make silly mistakes that don’t feel silly. They’ll hurt feelings. We’ll intimately get to know our neighbor and yes, we’ll discover hot buttons that when pressed, will create deep wounds. We are not to take advantage of this, or even use this to “correct” our neighbor when we finally find out “what’s wrong with them.” Chances are that whatever “issue” you are finding fault with in your neighbor is more your problem than theirs. We will see our own issues and insecurities manifest themselves in others when that is what we’re placing our focus on. Regain focus. Look to Jesus and pray for your own heart, then look back to your neighbor with a heart full of Grace and love. What do you see? If it’s not a person made righteous by Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross, then you’re going to need to look away again and refocus your eyes and your heart on Jesus before you can safely (without sin) look at your neighbor again.

I am speaking to you, too…self. I am having such a problem with this issue as well. I really struggle with making harsh judgments towards those with whom I am spending too much time. God has placed my family in an interesting and sometimes extremely uncomfortable situation right now. I’m learning that God doesn’t care too much about my own comfort as He sets my heart right.I am very grateful for this and that He checks my motives before giving me the desires of my heart!

Jesus has already died to set you free. You are no longer a sinner, but a saint. (read: 1 Corinthians 1:2) You are made perfect in God’s eyes because Jesus absorbed all of your punishment on the cross. (read: 2 Corinthians 5:21) We are not called to obey the law in order to retain our salvation. (read: Matthew 5:17) We’re called to obey the law out of love. (read: Romans 13:10) We need to live this out every day, to the best of our ability. When we can’t or don’t, there is grace. Please don’t abuse that! (read: Romans 6) We are all in need of grace. None of us are in competition with anyone else for our salvation. We already have it. Just look to Christ to grow you and mature you more each day. You can do this! God has equipped you with everything you need.

Let’s pray:

Heavenly Father, we come to You boldly, in the name of Your son, Jesus. We thank You for the Holy Spirit that loves us and guides us. We ask that You would make us sensitive to the promptings of the Holy Spirit. Help us to hear it more clearly and know when we’re making harsh judgements and when we’re truly seeking to correct or rebuke a brother or sister out of love. Help us to focus first on You, Lord and correct our behaviors, thoughts and attitudes before we even dare to look to others. Thank You for growing us and for fulfilling Your word that You began a good work in us and You will see it to completion. We confess that sometimes we don’t trust that. Sometimes we also try to do things on our own and that leads to burnout. We get frustrated with ourselves and become critical of others. Our focus is lost and we sin against You by sinning against Your children. We are sorry and we humbly repent, admitting that all sin is against You and Your will for our lives. Thank You for Jesus who has borne our sin and those of our neighbors as well. Fill our hearts with Your love as we reset our focus back onto You and away from idols and sin. In Jesus’ Holy and perfect name we pray. Amen.

 

An Open Letter to My Unborn Son {Jackson Henry Aaron}

15 weeks
Jackson Henry Aaron due May 27, 2015

Dear Jackson,

For you son, we have prayed fervently. God has blessed us with your conception. I’m looking forward to the day when I can hold you in my arms and kiss your head as I praise God for bringing you into my life. Your father will do the same thing, as will your sisters, grandparents and all who meet you. You are a blessing son. I pray that you never forget how important, loved and blessed you are. May God bless you and keep you safe all the days of your life.

Your sisters, Theresa and Chelsea are so excited to meet you. They’ve been singing songs about you since the day we told them we’re expecting you (September 21st, 2014). They don’t really understand that May 27th is a ways off, but they’re eagerly awaiting your arrival. They’ve been praying for you, too.

There has never been a moment when we haven’t wanted you, or wondered if you should be a part of our family. You were always wanted. You have always been loved.

Before you were conceived, several of your brothers and sisters were born into Heaven. You and your sisters currently have more siblings born into Heaven than you do here on earth to embrace. I often wonder if you kids played with them before coming here to earth. That is one of life’s great mysteries. Someday, when I meet God in Heaven, I’d like to ask Him. I know your brothers and sisters were beautiful because they were a gift from God – a blessing. I know I will meet them someday and embrace them. I thank God for their lives, short as they were. I thank God for your life, and for your sister’s lives as well.

Little one, you are strong! I have felt your kicks and barrel rolls since week twelve of pregnancy. At first, they felt like tiny flutters and now, they tend to feel more like a mighty warrior, looking for the exit. Sometimes I wonder if you haven’t mistaken my bladder for a bouncy house. I have a feeling you’re really going to enjoy those someday. 😉

I wonder what you’re going to look like and what your interests will be. Your dad and I keep going back and forth about whether you’ll be a football player, a soccer player or a baseball player. I wonder if you’ll be a mighty preacher, a lawyer who stands up for civil rights, or something else. We have big dreams for you, but we also know you’re going to have to make up your own mind about a career, based on your relationship with Christ. We trust Him to direct your steps and ours as well as we raise you in the Church and in relation with Him.

Jackson, you’ll never be able to meet your aunt Melissa, great-grandpa Tom, or great grandmothers Verla and Mary Jane (among many, many other deceased family members) but I want you to know that they’ve already influenced your future in so many way, just as we will, who are still here among your earthly relatives. You see, you’re part of a beautiful legacy of God’s people. We’re a little broken, a little silly, and a lot hopeful for full restoration among God’s creation. We’re all part of the foundation for yours and your sister’s future. Our stories, woven together create a beautiful tapestry that can help lead back to God if you allow it. There are stories of triumph, wisdom, love, death, sadness, sin, and foolishness. There are stories of victory and joy. There are stories that will help you understand the importance of hard work, loyalty and friendship to your fellow-man. Some stories will inspire, some will make you cringe, but all are part of the beautiful tapestry. All are important for you know.

More than anything dear Jackson, I just want you to trust God and love Him with all your heart, all your mind and all your soul and love your neighbor as you love yourself. That is my greatest prayer for you, my son. I also want you to know that there is nothing you can do to separate yourself from the love of God or from the love of your father and I. You are our son and you are first and foremost, God’s beautiful, beloved creation. We’ll see you soon, Son.

With love,

Mommy

You Are Not Trash {Video}

 

Hi there! I’m Mandy from Nest Full of Birds. I just wanted to take some time to introduce myself and tell you a bit about Nest Full of Birds and why I’m writing what I write. Now, you’ll see on the blog that I write about some pretty bold, pretty risky things. I’ve really been through a lot in my life, and I’ve been blessed that God’s seen me through all of it. I feel a lot like Mary Magdalene, having been saved from 7 demons. I owe everything to God. God is my One True Father. I don’t have an earthly Father that I can turn to and for that matter; I really don’t have a mother either. God is it for me.

I was born into an abusive home and right away my mother had to flee from my biological father. He spent a lot of time in prison for drugs and just wasn’t a good person. I’m amazed that my siblings and I survived. It was a horrible situation. Then my step-dad just used me for trash. My whole childhood was rough. I’m a survivor of childhood rape and sexual abuse. Out of that stemmed a lot of issues with PTSD, anxiety, depression, suicide. I’ve had 4 suicide attempts – two before I turned 18. I died once, when I was 16, and I remember being so angry when I woke up. I truly wanted to die. But God wasn’t done with me yet and it took a long while, but I’m so glad He saved me.

I’ve struggled with homosexual tendencies. I made the choice to marry my husband, and I’m glad I did! We have two great kids and there’s no looking back for me. I truly fought a hard battle and am happily married to my husband, Anthony. As a result of the battle with homosexuality, I really struggled in the past with porn and alcoholism. I’ve struggled with self-worth. I’ve had a lot of people tell me what a sinner, what an awful, despicable person I am. The only thing they’re right about is that I am indeed a sinner, but fortunately, I’m saved by Grace. I’ve struggled hard with adultery and won that battle. All the glory goes to God for that one.

You know, I thought once I was married that all my troubles with my abusers were over. I was in a safe place, I wasn’t being abused anymore, but I just had no idea how to function in that kind of an environment. I didn’t know yet what to do with a good husband, a happy home and a quiet life, so I gunked it all up. I almost lost my marriage and my kids, but I turned to the Lord and I sought Him with everything I had. I wrestled hard for that blessing; I wasn’t going to stop until I got it. I knew I was made for more. Why else would God save me from so much?

I wasn’t made to be trash. I wasn’t made to be treated like trash and I certainly wasn’t made to be rolling in it, either.   And that’s a lot of what I’m writing about on Nest Full of Birds, because at the time I was going through all of this, I couldn’t yet see the bigger picture. I figured there was a light at the end of the tunnel, but since I couldn’t see it, I was getting really discouraged. It’s my mission here at Nest Full of Birds to really bring that message to you.

You’re not stuck in the place you’re in now. You’re not trash.

God has healed me from a lot. It’s because of Him that I’m here right now, talking to all of you.   God says in Jeremiah 1:5 that “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.”

The King is enamored with your beauty and of you, He is well pleased.

You are not stuck in the place that you’re in right now. God will make a way out of whatever situation you’re in, whether it’s healing or deliverance. You can and should repent and be free from whatever is holding you back. God is ready to hear your prayers right now.

God has done this for me, and He can do this for you if you allow His power in your life. Philippians 4:13 says that “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” Yes you can!

Allow God’s power to over take your lives, beloved Brothers and Sisters.

You are not trash.   So I’ll end here, summing up my story and the content of Nest Full of Birds with this scripture from Psalm 23, the Living Bible translation.

Because the Lord is my Shepherd, I have everything I need! He lets me rest in the meadow grass and leads me beside the quiet streams. He gives me new strength. He helps me do what honors him the most. Even when walking through the dark valley of death I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me, guarding, guiding all the way.  You provide delicious food for me in the presence of my enemies. You have welcomed me as your guest; blessings overflow! Your goodness and unfailing kindness shall be with me all of my life, and afterwards I will live with you forever in your home.

God’s Redeeming Love for His Bride {Video}

In keeping with the theme of God’s redeeming love for His bride, we’re still looking at Hosea and studying the amazing story there. Recently, I stumbled across this video series from Irving Bible Church and it’s a powerful interpretation of the story of Hosea, as was the movie Amazing Love: The Story of Hosea that I watched a few nights ago. I invite you to watch both the movie and the YouTube video series all the way through, then leave a comment and tell us what you thought of it. (Disclaimer: We are not associated in any way with the Irving Bible Church, other than just being a fan of these videos.) 🙂

Married to Hosea {God’s Redeeming Love}

Last night I was in the mood for a movie and as I searched through Netflix, I was a little disappointed by some of their choices for Faith and Spirituality films. I was looking for something that would shake up my world a bit, but I wasn’t really finding it, until I saw this movie entitled “Amazing Love: The Story of Hosea“. It was exactly what I needed to watch.

The story of Hosea is one that makes many Christians cringe – some because they can’t fathom living Hosea’s life, being “forced” to stay married to Gomer and some because they know firsthand what kind of struggle Gomer was forced to fight, being married to Hosea.

I’m aware that empathizing with Gomer is not a popular side to take, however, aside from my own personal story, we are all like Gomer. You see, Hosea is a story of God’s redeeming love for mankind, despite man’s disobedience and betrayal of God. We are, each of us, Gomer at our truest form. We are each despicable, repugnant and riddled with faults, yet our God loves us no matter what we do. He will take us back into His arms and He has paid a hefty price for us each time we find ourselves drenched in the stink of sin.

1 The Lord said to me, “Go, show your love to your wife again, though she is loved by another man and is an adulteress. Love her as the Lord loves the Israelites, though they turn to other gods and love the sacred raisin cakes.”

So I bought her for fifteen shekels of silver and about a homer and a lethek of barley. Then I told her, “You are to live with me many days; you must not be a prostitute or be intimate with any man, and I will behave the same way toward you.”

For the Israelites will live many days without king or prince, without sacrifice or sacred stones, without ephod or household gods. Afterward the Israelites will return and seek the Lord their God and David their king. They will come trembling to the Lord and to his blessings in the last days.

Hosea Chapter 3

God sent His own Son to pay for our sins, yet we’ve bowed down to other gods, served ourselves before considering God’s commands, and at times, hated God for not giving us what we want. It amazes me that God’s love is so great that He could overlook all of these faults and still pull us to Him. Hosea is living out God’s will in the absolute most difficult situation possible, pointing the way to the teachings and life mission of Jesus. How many of us could say that we would be willing to love someone who did not love us back? It’s not a pleasant thought is it? Could we love a whore like Gomer? Could we forgive her? Could we be her friend? Could we overlook her faults in order to love her to Christ? Could we place ourselves in her shoes and try to understand why she has such a difficult time accepting free love instead of chasing after the pain of abusive and deadly “love”?

Many of us cannot and furthermore will not, yet…we are all a lot like Gomer, married to Hosea (God), yet unable to fully accept His free gift of love – love that covers a multitude of sins and is far from self-serving.

I am married to Hosea and I’m so glad He’s never given up on me. When I saw nothing worth redeeming, He did. When I chased after abusive, damaging “love”, He still chased after me, pulling me toward Him.

Return, Israel, to the Lord your God.
    Your sins have been your downfall!
Take words with you
    and return to the Lord.
Say to him:
    “Forgive all our sins
and receive us graciously,
    that we may offer the fruit of our lips.
Assyria cannot save us;
    we will not mount warhorses.
We will never again say ‘Our gods’
    to what our own hands have made,
    for in you the fatherless find compassion.”

“I will heal their waywardness
    and love them freely,
    for my anger has turned away from them.
I will be like the dew to Israel;
    he will blossom like a lily.
Like a cedar of Lebanon
    he will send down his roots;
    his young shoots will grow.
His splendor will be like an olive tree,
    his fragrance like a cedar of Lebanon.
People will dwell again in his shade;
    they will flourish like the grain,
they will blossom like the vine—
    Israel’s fame will be like the wine of Lebanon.
Ephraim, what more have I to do with idols?
    I will answer him and care for him.
I am like a flourishing juniper;
    your fruitfulness comes from me.”

Who is wise? Let them realize these things.
    Who is discerning? Let them understand.
The ways of the Lord are right;
    the righteous walk in them,
    but the rebellious stumble in them.

Hosea Chapter 14

amish

Going Amish?

amish

 

One of my all-time favorite books is Almost Amish by Nancy Sleeth. I cannot read this book enough! Right now, I’m reading it for the fourth or fifth time and taking more intensive notes than I ever have before. God has been placing it upon our hearts to live more sustainable lives and to love and tend His creation. For the last couple of years, Anthony and I have been working really hard to live more with less. We got off track about a year ago when we moved back home to Oregon, but we’re slowly getting back to where we want to be. Eventually, we will switch from 100% electric lighting to 100% non-electric lighting, from owning a clothes dryer, to not owning one (and line drying all of our clothes), and we will cut down on our use of a car for any errand within five miles of our home (unless it’s on the way home from church or work, which are both more than 10 miles from home). We’re selling pretty much everything that is non-essential and that does not honor God. This includes home decor, clothing, and most small electrical kitchen appliances. This change began in the heart, and is moving outward, to our actions. It’s not so much that we want to be Amish, as that we want to honor God in all we do and say, and we want to be sure we’re considering long-term cost to our environment, neighbors, and our wallets, as opposed to short-term gain for ourselves.

The more we pare down, the freer we feel. We live in a small (by “normal” standards) two bedroom, one and a half bath apartment. It’s around 900 square feet and it’s ample room for the four of us. We park in a community car port and we live less than half a block from the schools, and less than one-quarter mile from a local grocer’s. Everything we need is within one mile of our home. Though we do not have a backyard, we do have a small patio, and we are using that to grow some food. We currently have cabbage, lettuce, tomatoes, strawberries, mint, rosemary, basil, oregano, broccoli, limes, lemons and oranges growing on our back patio. There is still room for our two girls to play out there as well. We plan to increase our crop by double next year, adding beans, cilantro, potatoes, radishes, cucumbers (for pickling), and tomatillos or some other type of peppers.

Our girls are expected to help water the plants, feed the pets (we have a small dog and a cat), and clean up after themselves, as well as set the table, prepare some simple foods (like cutting olives with a table knife, tear lettuce for salads, stir baking mixes, etc), fold laundry (towels, wash cloths, socks, underpants, cloth napkins, etc.), and sweep and mop tiled areas, to name a few. I also expect them to clean the bathtub every Monday evening. (They love that particular chore, since it means they’re the first to take a soak in a clean tub!) We do not pay our girls an allowance. We had been using a rewards system to bribe them to do chores, but we’re removing that from our home, since we don’t believe that it’s spiritually beneficial to bribe them to assist the family, or for any other reason. This can lead to a sense of entitlement, and that is not a spiritual blessing in any way, shape or form. Instead, we reward ourselves with time spent outside, such as a daily walk to the park to play on the playground. We live exactly a half mile from two different parks (one in each direction), both with playgrounds. Taking a walk to the park is a daily occurrence, provided it’s not pouring down rain outside. This is ample reason for the girls to complete their chores in a timely manner. They absolutely love going to the park with enough time to spend socializing with the neighbor kids.

We have significantly decreased screen time for our children, to a mere 20 minutes a day (for computer games on Sesame Street.org) and one movie a week, on Fridays, when we make popcorn and settle in on the couch as a family. This week, we watched Beauty and the Beast and all of us girls were delighted to discover that my husband knew all the words to every song in the movie! Anthony and I have cut down screen time for ourselves, as well. We’re working on cutting it down even further. It’s a tough habit to break! He is in online school, working towards a degree in forensics and criminology and I home school Theresa, using the internet as a frequent resource for her. (I have found very helpful videos on YouTube for my visual learner.) We have to be very mindful of how we are using the internet. It’s so easy to become distracted!

Our financial situation has always been bleak. We were love-sick kids who got married on borrowed time and borrowed money. We barely had two nickels to scrape together, and then we started having children. You can guess how that’s all turned out. 😉 We tried chasing after the “American dream” but found that for us, it’s more of an “American nightmare.” We have little interest in corporate America and even less interest in working far from home. We value our time together as a family, and our small home that allows us to be in close proximity to one another. Yes, we do occasionally (read: daily) drive each other nuts, but we also have some insanely funny moments. I would not trade this time with my family for anything, nor would I desire a larger house so that I could “escape” from my husband or my children. We make time for each other, and for ourselves. It all “comes out in the wash” as they say.

Behind our home is an empty property, full of grass, wild flowers, birds and often, deer. We love to stand on the patio, quietly talking to our friends, the deer. Right now there are five young bucks that make the trek to our “backyard”. It delights our girls to no end to see them out there, munching on the sweet grasses or laying lazily in the sun. I love listening to the hundreds of birds outside our window. There is a stream about 50 yards away, down a bit of a ravine, and I know the area is teeming with wild-life. I am in heaven here. There is always something new, something beautiful to enjoy, even in the middle of a small town.

Because we enjoy our friends the birds and deer so much, we want to preserve their land. Limiting our time in the driver’s seat, cutting down our carbon footprint, and reducing our use of non-renewable energies. We’re beginning to shop locally (which is an adjustment, I’ll admit! I love Fred Meyer!), frequenting farmer’s markets, purchasing locally made toiletries, using cloth napkins exclusively, cleaning with water and vinegar, and clearing our home of unnecessary clutter. (Clutter equals fire hazard, among other things.)

The reactions we’ve received about these changes have been, surprising to us, mostly negative. People ask why we’re striving to be so different, and ask why we’re trying to buy our way into heaven. It’s not about buying our way into heaven at all! It’s about ensuring there’s still a planet with fresh air, healthy (recognizable, non-genetically modified) foods, and room to run and play and explore nature, for future generations. Most of all, it’s about living in a way that allows us time to be free to do what we love best, and that is to love God by serving others. I cannot serve others very well when I am tied down to a large house, cleaning lots of things that I do not really need, and working at a job I hate just to be able to afford these things. That, to us, is the opposite of a dream.

God has deeply and richly blessed our family. I can count on one hand the amount of times we’ve discussed leaving this town to go somewhere else and make more money, and on one finger the number of places and situations I’d rather be in. God has planted us here, and we intend to bloom right where He’s planted us. This, above all things, is the Amish way. We will bloom where God has planted us until it is time to be with Him forever in Heaven.

Romans 12:2a, Psalm 27:10

wpid-2012-06-11-19.08.59.jpg
Precious girls, sharing God’s love

 

It is likely that the world will tell us that we are trash to be discarded. We will be told that we are worthless, and we are despicable to look at, but as God’s children, we need to remember that this is not true! To Christ, we are Treasure worth dying for!

Do not be conformed to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. 

Romans 12:2a

There are so many of us who have had rough lives, hard childhoods we are still recovering from and parents who have abused and discarded us. We must remember that God is our Father and He will never leave us.

I have a second verse for you, Brothers and Sisters. This verse has carried me through life for more than ten years, and it’s been an immense blessing to me. I share with you, in the hopes that God will use it to touch your soul and bring you nearer to Him as you read it.

For my father and my mother have forsaken me, but the LORD will take me in.

Psalm 27:10

Brothers and Sisters, you are not alone. You have a purpose. A painful childhood can and will be redeemed by the powerful God that created you. You are not trash, but Treasure! You are already won! I love you. God loves you. Dry your tears and pray now. You are not alone. You are never, even in your darkest moments, alone.

Heavenly Father, I lift up hurting souls to You tonight. You are the great Physician and Healer, and You are also the Great Comforter and Father to all, especially the Fatherless and Motherless. You see our tears, You hear our cries, You know our pain. We are not alone. We thank You for Your infinite love and wisdom, that even when we do not understand what it is that You are doing, You still lead us, in our doubts, in our pain, in our stumbles. You love us even when it seems no one else does. You raise us up and care for us. Thank You, God. Thank You. In Jesus Name we pray and Praise Your Holy Name. Amen.

 

 

The Simple Truth {100 Words or Less}

There is absolutely nothing we can do to change others no matter how much we love them and pray for them. People will only change when they recognize a personal need for it.

You can (and should) walk away from any person, conversation or situation that does not honor Christ without ruining your life or looking back with regret. Don’t believe the people that tell you otherwise.

Living into God’s will is easier than trying to live for yourself. When you’re living as a fool, no one has your back for very long, but God will always take you back.

 

 

Armor of Light

Desires of the Heart

Take delight in the Lord,
and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Psalm 37:4 NIV

 

I’ve been thinking about this verse a lot. I have it framed, sitting in my kitchen window sill. My greatest desire is  to raise up a family that honors God above self, ambition and the world. I’ve joked for years about wanting to be June Cleaver, but there’s so much more to my desire than the outward image of who the TV personality of June Cleaver is. I want a family that doesn’t break apart at the seams when trouble comes, but pulls others in (in good times and bad) and starts sewing them into the tapestry as well, making something more beautiful than any of us ever would’ve imagined.

I want to do more than just have this vague idea of being better than my parents were. Revenge never solved anything, nor does anger. Our parents are human and they make mistakes too. God knows their struggles and He’s offering grace to each of our parents, and to us, no matter how screwed up we are. To simply say we want to better than our parents is a cop-out, I’m discovering. Harsh, hard to hear, hard to say, to recognize and admit, but true all the same.

Sometimes, due to PTSD, I really struggle with maturity in all areas of my life, but the place I feel the struggle the most is in my spiritual life. Pray for me, please?

Lately, God has been deepening my understanding of what Jesus meant when He said (in Matthew 10:38, 39) that we have to” die to live in Christ”. We have to set our foolishness and our desires aside so that we can raise good, God-fearing kids. And that can hurt our hearts as it rips us away from our own selfish ambitions. It reshapes our priorities and places a new purpose, new desires in our hearts. Kids are our future, and if we’re not standing up for them and fighting for them and praying for them and loving them…who is? Who is influencing our kids and shaping the desires of their hearts?

What about you? What do you want? What are your desires of the heart? What are you struggling with? Share in the comments below.

Love,

Mandy

Armor Of Light
Armor of Light

 

 

My Fight With Homosexuality

My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. 

Psalm 62:7 NIV

 

For the past few years, we as a nation have been discussing all aspects of homosexuality and homosexual behavior and in some respects, I don’t really feel as though we’ve gotten anywhere on the subject. Science can be a fickle mistress, but so can the Church. Both are full of ideas, hypothesis, and flawed individuals. My goodness, I am certainly one of them. Albert Einstein once said that “science without religion is lame, religion without science is blind“. I don’t know if there is a genetic cause for homosexual behavior, and I don’t know if it’s ingrained in us the way that having blue eyes and brown hair is ingrained in my own DNA, but what I do know is that on some level, homosexual behavior and tendencies are at least as strong in us as alcoholism, drug addiction and the pull towards abusive behavior. What this means for the population is that we have to at least consider that it’s not something that is easily changed, if it can be changed at all. It’s at least a behavior deserving of our time, attention and compassion. At most, it’s deserving of our constant and consistent prayer.

Some of you who read this blog may be intensely offended by my previous statements and consider me a bigot. Others are right there with me, nodding in tune. Keep up, please. I’ve got more to say.

When I was ten years old, I knew I was different. It wasn’t just because I’d found the courage to seek help for myself and my family by turning my abuser in to the authorities. I knew I was different because I’d experienced something very adult that at the time, I’d assumed none of my peers had ever experienced. I’d had sex. I’d been abused and torn apart by someone who was supposed to take care of me. I’d seen body parts that I wasn’t supposed to see until I was married. I was marred and masked and tossed around. I’d been marked for a life of torment, and the devil was certainly after me from a young age. I was a pot made by God to be used for someone else’s garbage, or so I thought at the time. I knew a secret that very few other kids knew. All the dirty jokes about male and female parts and how they fit together were true. I’d been hearing the jokes on the playground since kindergarten. Potty mouths start young, but I’d already known all this for a long time. My childhood consisted of adult things, adult words, adult activities, adult emotions far too complex for a little girl to understand. It’s why I never understood it when adults would tell me that I didn’t understand something or that I was too young. I got it. I knew what they were talking about. For the most part, I was an adult from the time I was born. Not because I wanted to be, but because I was forced to be. I know that now, from the perspective I have as a parent, that this is a sad, disturbing way to look at it, but it’s true in some sense. I was forced to grow up way too fast and I gained an understanding of myself and of adulthood that I should never have had before the age of 18.

In therapy, I explored all kinds of emotions I wasn’t ready to deal with. I forgave a man who murdered my innocence. He forced me to bleed out my childhood through every pore, before I was even ready to start reading and learning basic math. He ripped out my basic rights as a human being and mutilated my pride and self-confidence before it had a chance to form. He forced me to look at my life from a young age and ask myself what I wanted and what the hell was I even doing here on this earth. My teenage years were spent questioning whether or not my existence on this earth was even beneficial to anyone, especially my parents who didn’t ever seem to understand what I was going through. I’m sorry, Mom. I know you’re reading this and your heart is hurting, but you have to know. You have to know how I feel because it’s real and it’s valid and I don’t know any other way to make you hear it.

Sexual awakenings are totally normal for teenage kids, but mine was so scary and I was so emotionally scarred and stunted by that point, that I just didn’t know what to do with any of my feelings. There was this amazing boy that I just couldn’t get enough of. He was so quiet and shy. I met him in the eighth grade in math class. He sat in the back of the class and never really spoke to anyone. Every day he wore a San Francisco 49ers hat and I could tell he was wounded too. I think it’s what most drew me to him. He tried to hide something behind that hat. I assumed we were the same, but I came to find out later that we weren’t. I’ll get to that later. For now, just know that I was completely intrigued by this quiet boy. I’d steal glances at him, knowing there was something about him that I just couldn’t get past. He was, from the moment I met him, completely unforgettable.

Time passed. This boy and I didn’t speak. I assumed he’d never noticed me and so I went on about my own life. I tried to convince my friends and myself that I was totally and completely into boys. In some ways, I was. My room looked like a typical teenage girls’ room – band posters all over the walls, cute celebrity boy pictures cut out of magazines and pasted on the walls. It was all pretty standard stuff, but inside I was reeling. As my friends went about kissing boys, all I wanted to do was kiss my best friend at the time – a girl. I wanted to know what it felt like to be loved, tenderly. Not the painful “love” that was inflicted on me by my abuser. Not the forced love that I felt from my parents, or even my grandmother (whom I still love, even in death.) I wanted what you see in the movies. I wanted to know that tenderness and compassion existed and I assumed for a very, very long time that it only existed in romantic love, so I wanted that. From my experiences with sexual abuse, I “knew” that it didn’t exist from the opposite sex. So while boys were certainly cute, especially that quiet boy from school, it just wasn’t possible for me to develop feelings for them. They were all corrupt.

High school was an interesting time for me, and by interesting, I mean hellacious. Despite my true feelings and desires, I allowed myself to be forced by a family member to allow my abuser back into my life. He entered back into the picture full-time just a few weeks before High School started. My family was elated. I was crushed beyond repair. It’s been nearly 17 years and I’m still not healed from that soul crushing moment. Forgiveness takes time – a lifetime apparently. Anyway, the boy was back in my life. He actually spoke to me, thanks to my best friend at the time. (Not the one I’d wanted to kiss, but another friend. Kids are so fickle, and I was certainly fickle too.) This boy captivated every part of me. I wanted to know him, to understand how he could penetrate walls that I’d fortified to keep everyone out – especially his kind (boys), but I didn’t know how to do that when I was so absolutely terrified. So I pretended to be just like everyone else. I flirted, wrote him cute notes, dressed differently when he was around, and I let him in little by little. I always knew he’d hurt me. He was a boy (read: monster) after all. Monsters have no compassion, right? And he was no exception. It was only a matter of time. The more I felt for this boy, the more I wanted to be someone else. There were many days I used the mental techniques I’d taught myself during the abuse, to disappear from my body and still remain in conversation with someone. I became a shell with no soul, existing somewhere else that no one could really see. They were speaking to someone who wasn’t really me. (It was like I was tricking everyone, but looking back, I was only ever fooling myself.) Inside, I was different and I knew it. I would never kiss boys like my friends did. I was a lesbian. I knew it as instinctively as I knew my hair was brown and my eyes were blue. I was 16 years old and I just knew.

The boy and I “dated” off and on for three years of high school until the summer after junior year when he went to stay with his father in another state, hundreds of miles away. At the time, it was devastating, but looking back, it was best for our relationship. I’m not sure it was best for the boy, but I’m not sure it’s for me to say. I don’t know what would’ve happened had he stayed. I’d like to think he’d have been hurt less, but I just don’t know. (His father was not good to him, and he’s still recovering from that, 14 years later.)

For me, it forced me to dig deep in myself and look at what I needed and wanted for my life. I could never be honest with the boy. He had no idea I wanted to kiss girls and to hold their hands. He thought I was in love with him, and I was, in a very immature, unhealthy way. I was in love with him the best way I felt I could be at that time, given what I was going through on the inside. His mom was right to ask him not to see me anymore.

After high school, still no word from the boy. I set about hiding in as deep a hole as I could make for myself. A lot of people were worried about me, but I didn’t care. Life was business as usual. Brood, sabotage my life, deal with conflicting emotions, hide the truth, and want what I could never have – true, compassionate love from a woman. My mother was harsher than she ever meant to be. I know it was because I was difficult and wouldn’t let her in. If I’d asked her for more compassion, I know she’d have given it me, but I just couldn’t do that. There was, quite seriously and beyond what I can share on this blog, no reason to trust that it would have been healthy to do so. I shut down. I experimented with all kinds of things – porn, alcohol, medications. I never took illegal drugs – a small comfort to me now, seeing as I abused medications for so long. I just needed something to take the edge off. There were feelings threatening to come to the surface and I had to do whatever it took to suppress them.

The boy came back in my dreams more often than I invited him to. He was so beautiful. I could always tell him absolutely everything, and while he was afraid, he never once told me I was stupid or childish for feeling what I was feeling. He has never fully understood me, but he has always loved me. In those dreams, he loved me without ever touching me. It was perfect.

In waking, I wanted to be touched and I didn’t know what to do about it. I spoke with my therapist extensively on the issue, even admitting to my pornography addiction, which by this point, was rampant and consuming. I wanted to figure out what was going on with me, and I felt at the time, that exposure was the best medicine. I know that sounds stupid now, but it was how I coped back then. I suspect that my therapist was a lesbian too. I’d researched her a bit years ago and never once had she been married, but she did live with a woman for a long time. No relation. So I assumed perhaps they were lovers. It would certainly explain her advice to me that I was probably a lesbian, and that I should explore my feelings on the subject deeper in a healthy environment – therapy.

A few people in my life who somewhat knew what I was going through at the time, suggested to me that perhaps my feelings toward women stemmed from my abuse as a child and that my fear of being hurt by a man again, lead me to these homosexual urges. At the time, this idea seemed absurd because the urges were so strong that they felt like the most real part of me. I was consumed by this idea that everything would be OK if I just became what my mind “organically” lead me to be – a lesbian.

From the point that I made the decision to embrace the lesbian part of me, I immersed myself in the homosexual culture. I joined chatrooms for single lesbians and confused homosexuals, I rented every movie made by or written about homosexuality. I joined blog mailing lists for homosexual writers, and I championed the cause for equality for all gays. Why shouldn’t we be allowed to live the way we want, without fear of intimidation or discrimination, right?

About 5 years after high school, I entered into my first and only homosexual relationship. It lasted all of 5 weeks, if that. Jammie was exactly what I thought I needed. Her identity and self-image were fiercely rooted in homosexuality. She was the leader of her local college’s Rainbow Club, she was raising her two boys to love the gays, but feel free to choose their own path. She had lived as a homosexual since she was 17 years old, and anyone who questioned her ability to parent, or live as she pleased, was given the boot from her life. Jammie was a strong, charismatic woman firmly clinging to her beliefs and ideals. There was nothing that was ever going to change her. She also was not a Christian and was extremely antagonistic towards all Christians, even me at times, when I’d mentioned that the Episcopal Church (of which I’d been a member since birth, practically) was fully accepting of “our kind”. Nothing could sway her. I see now how futile my attempts were, but I thought I loved her, so I had to try.

I remember that first kiss from Jammie. I’d waited years for it. I assumed it would feel like coming home, but it didn’t. It was exactly like what I imagined kissing a boy would be like. It was cold, impersonal. Though I know Jammie had feelings for me, she never tried to break down walls like the boy in the 49ers hat had. She just assumed I was as hard-core as she was. I had no idea what I wanted, and when the relationship ended abruptly and harshly, I thought I was devastated and heartbroken, but I wasn’t. I was on the road to healing.

A few months later, I met a man. A much older man who was all kinds of wrong for me, but still offered some insight into who I was and what I wanted. Like the boy from years ago, this man broke down walls, not because I asked him to, but because he wanted to. He wasn’t a terrible person, but he was kind and compassionate. By sharing of himself and his faith in Christ, he quietly and confidently encouraged me to do the same. An inappropriate friendship formed (he was eight years older than me, divorced once and prone to alcoholism. I was still a virgin, had never kissed a male before ever, and extremely naive), and we began speaking multiple times a day. His entire family embraced me, loved me, prayed for me, and invited me in to share their joy and their faith. For a while, it felt natural, healthy, good. I was happy again and I started to feel like I was figuring out who I really was finally. I set the homosexual stuff aside, and I embraced my feelings for this man.

Banker man, as I’ll call him from now on, was a wonderful person to talk to. He had no idea what went on in the few months before I came to know him, and I appreciated that he never asked, or knew to ask. I felt silly and stupid for ever thinking that I was a lesbian. Surely, with the things I felt for this man, it could not be the case. I was not a lesbian. Finally – I was just like everyone else.

The relationship with Banker man (an investment banker who bought and sold high quality real estate for a living) progressed to the point where he asked me to come and live with him. His entire family was on board, and excited about the idea. We began making plans toward that end. I even invested financially in this.

It was one week before I was to move in with Banker Man that I saw the boy again. I’d been secretly speaking to him on MySpace (the cooler version of Facebook at the time). I went out with the boy for a night, and from the moment I saw the boy – now a man, I knew I was in love with him and I never, ever wanted to look back. I called Banker Man and broke his heart. I told him I couldn’t see him again, and I couldn’t talk to him, and I couldn’t look back on my decision. He didn’t accept that too well, and kept after me for the next several years to change my mind (even recently, he attempted to come back in my life) but I couldn’t. I can’t. I married the boy three months later. He still had the same 49ers hat and wore it often, especially when we went to the beach. I hated that hat because the colors weren’t right for his skin tone, but I loved him so much it hurt. It hurt us both.

The boy knew about my past. I’d always been honest about that with him. I even told him about Jammie and about Banker Man. I told him about all my feelings, whether he wanted to know or not. I know his mother was still worried about him. I was too. My feelings for Jammie were gone, and I only wanted to kiss the boy. He was the only boy I’d ever kissed. Even Banker Man didn’t get that honor.

I still struggle sometimes with feeling like maybe something is wrong with me, and I wonder if I can handle the memories of what happened to me. I have PTSD from the abuse. I remember wanting to kiss girls and the mental escape from reality that porn, medications and alcohol had been for me, and that it’s easier to escape into those behaviors than to face reality, but I fight those feelings with such intensity that it nearly breaks me sometimes. I don’t allow alcohol in my house most of the time because I refuse to go back to that place mentally. I make sure I’m being accountable when I’m on the internet, and I pray fervently when thoughts of homosexuality enter into my brain. It might be easier at the time for me to escape into these addictions, but it’s not what I need in the long run.

I spent years running from healing, from God, from Jesus. I bought the lies that the devil sold me over and over and over again. Jesus told His disciples that “It would be better for them to be thrown into the sea with a millstone tied around their neck than to cause one of these little ones to stumble.” and I know that it would’ve been better for me as a child if I’d never been abused in any way. Maybe I’d be whole now and not suffering from anxiety and PTSD. But you know, as bad as it can get sometimes, there is such beauty in this pain. There is such healing that can come from fighting so long and so hard for what is right, and what is true. I’ve learned through all the pain and heartbreak and stupid choices that there is a God and He can reach down to us wherever we are, and offer us a hand up out of the muck and mire of our own lives. I’ve learned that a lot of people are scared, and most never tell their stories the way that I have learned to do. Most people just stay stuck in their fear. I’m terrified. I’m still in the fear most days, but I’m so tired of allowing it to consume me. I want the blessings that God has given me. I don’t want to lose them or to sabotage them. As hard as it is, I’m running towards healing now. Sometimes I take a few steps back, assessing the situation, making sure it’s right for me, but it’s only because I’ve trusted the wrong people to help me before. I don’t want to make that mistake again.

I know now that homosexuality, at least for me, is a choice. I can’t speak for everyone else on the issue, (though I sometimes make the mistake of doing so) but I do know that for me, for Jammie and for my other friends who root their lives in homosexual behaviors, it’s borne out of pain and fear of the opposite gender. It’s a learned behavior that eventually becomes a lifestyle. I’d like to believe with full certainty that there is absolutely no way that people can be “born gay” but I just don’t know for sure. I’m not God. I’m not fully open to changing my mind on this, but there’s a crack open, because of what Albert Einstein said, and because I know how hard it was for me to fight those tendencies towards homosexuality.

What we need to practice is compassion and understanding towards those who are engaging in homosexual behavior, whether we understand it or not. Some people are so convinced that there’s absolutely no way they can every change, that we start to believe them, and really – in some way, they’re right. No one can change who they are without grace and without a willingness to allow that grace to permeate their existence.

I’m so grateful for the boy (Anthony) and his mother. They love me even when I don’t deserve it (which is most days, I’ll be honest). Neither one of them can fix me or heal me, or change me, but they can and do love and support me and that gives me the encouragement I need to keep fighting for full and complete healing from the past.

Christ has begun a good work in me, even long before I could see it. Every step I’ve taken in this life, Christ has been with me. He knows how I hurt, He knows what has happened to me. He knows what I’ve done, and He loves me anyway. He loves me – a broken sinner in a fallen world.

I fell yesterday. Broke into a thousand pieces. Stopped breathing during a series of panic attacks, and then I rushed myself to the doctor without telling anyone where I was going. I was afraid to stop fighting for the healing that I so desperately need. God is with me every step of the way, and He is with you, too. May my words and my transparency bless you in some way that the darkness cannot. For the love of your own healing, don’t let the darkness win. Shove your pain into the light and learn to fight harder. Learn to love those who don’t deserve to be loved, and learn to accept the love that others give you. God knows we need it so badly it hurts.

 

 And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:13