In God We Trust - Or Do We?

The lesson in class Sunday was about the passage in John 21 when Jesus asks Peter if he loves Him. The problem is that Peter didn't even know what he was saying. Yes, he said that he loved Jesus - and he believed that he did. What he didn't know was the real meaning of love. I think we all run into this problem from time to time.

Another word that we bandy about is trust. This one has caused me problems for....well, my entire life. I just didn't realize it. It's easy to say, "Sure, I trust God to take care of everything. He's God and I know that He can." I've said it a million times. Usually while the words are still coming out of my mouth, I'm already formulating a way that I can take care of it myself. I've justified it by telling myself that maybe this is the way God chose to answer, that He helps those who help themselves so I should definitely forge ahead with this brilliant plan. After all, He's the one who gave me the solution.

Really?

I'm not saying He can't work that way. I'm saying that He couldn't have with me because I wasn't listening and couldn't have heard Him give me an answer to my problem if He'd been sitting next to me yelling through a bullhorn.

My latest trust evaluation has been my job search. Every time I have an interview I think that this is going to be the one. I just know that God is going to provide me with a great job and this is going to be it. And I believe it right up to the moment that I find out that I didn't get the job. Then I fall to pieces and the questions come.

- Why wasn't I good enough?

- Why did God let me down?

- Doesn't He understand how much I need this job?

- Why does He help everyone else but not me?

Yes, folks, that's been my bright shining example of trust.

A few weeks ago, I decided to change the way I had been praying about the situation. I decided to honestly pray that God gives me the job that HE thinks is perfect for me. I told Him that I know He can see much further down the road than I can and that I trust Him to provide a secure job with a company that I can stay with long-term, where I'll be happy and fulfilled in my work - all important things that I'm looking for.

My last interview was with a great company that does accounting for churches all over the country. Perfect! It's the field I want to be working in. It's a company that helps churches and non-profit agencies so that I would feel I was contributing to their ministries. The people there were incredibly nice. It seemed like the perfect opportunity.

This is where the trusting became extremely difficult. This is where I was really put to the test in praying about this job. I wanted so badly to ask that God give me this job. How could He not? I was everything they said they were looking for and they are everything that I put on my wish list. I wanted to just name it and claim it, but something was holding me back.

There was a small voice that kept doggedly reminding me that I've jumped in with both feet before because I thought it was perfect and it didn't turn out so well. It had nothing to do with doubting that this was a great opportunity to work for a fabulous company. I still believe that. It wasn't even a lack of faith in my ability to make sound judgements.

Instead it kept reminding me that God knows what is best, what is down the road for me and for this company, and that I needed to trust Him to provide what I need, not what I think I want. Ouch.

So I changed my tune. I began praying again that God put me where I need to be. I know that He will provide and I trust Him to do that in His way and time, not mine. Last night, driving home from dropping Melissa off, I told Luke that I really felt at peace about it no matter whether I go the job or not. That was the first time I really, truly felt that. Always before there was an overwhelming apprehension of wondering how things were going to work if I didn't get the job.

This morning was the big epiphany, though. I was contemplating my trust issues and how they have affected my life and relationships, not just with God. There was the nagging voice again with just one question: "If you trust Me, why do you still try to do it yourself?" I was so stunned I stopped in my tracks right there on the stairs. When I ask Luke to do something for me, I know that he'll take care of it. I don't ask and then do it myself. I don't micromanage to make sure he's doing it the way I think is best. I know that he loves me and he'll get the job done.

So why do I insist on micromanaging the Creator of everything who has been running the universe without my help for centuries and ages?

I heard someone say recently that trusting a job to provide for you financially is like saying the water in your kitchen comes from a faucet. That's not the source; that's just the vehicle that brought it into your house. Having a job doesn't make me secure. Trusting my Heavenly Father to provide for me according to His riches in glory does that. He is the source of all that I have and all that I need.

After all that learning, you think I go the job don't you? Not this time. I have to admit that I'm very disappointed. I really wanted this to be the way that He chose to open the door. I'm not sure why He didn't, but I don't have to. I trust Him. After all, Father does know best.

In the Spotlight

When my cousins were little, they loved to play the board game Guess Who! One day Rachel decided to persuade her older cousin Dennis to play with her. The object is to ask the other person questions about their person such as what color hair, what color eyes, until you can narrow the choices and guess which game character they chose.

Unfortunately, no one told poor Rachel that Dennis is color blind. Every time she would ask something like, "Does your person have blue eyes?", he would inevitably answer, "I don't know." This went on for quite a while until she accused him of cheating - and as we all know, there's nothing worse than being accused of cheating by a 5 year old.

For much of my life, I've felt a lot like Dennis must have felt playing that game with no way to answer the questions. Oh, I know that I have red hair and blue eyes. It's all the other stuff I've had a hard time figuring out. There are so many things that I assumed about myself because other people assumed it about me. I'm a priss, so I must not like camping. For years I've said I don't even though I've never tried it. I'm a redhead, so I must have a temper. OK, so that one is true.

I let myself go through life afraid to try anything because of all the what ifs that might happen. Besides, I couldn't try it because I had already said that I didn't like it. In order for me to find out, I would have to admit that I didn't know then go and actually try it. Difficult, yes. Impossible, no.

When Mr. Ex/ADD and I were still trying to work things out, my dad gave me the best advice. He said that we both needed to figure out how we liked our eggs. For those of you who have seen the movie "Runaway Bride", you get it. Julia Roberts' character went along with every guy she had dated and ordered eggs the same way he did. She had no idea who she was or what she liked.

Turns out I like scrambled eggs, omelets, quiche....eggs most any way as long as I'm not eating them with Mr. Ex. But I digress....

Once I figured out who I was and where I was going, yes, it was time for Ex & I to part ways. I was tired of always being wrong and only seeing all my imperfections, which was his focus when he looked at me. But it wasn't who I really was. He didn't know me at all. But then, I didn't know me either.

Sometimes I feel now like I'm a completely different person with Luke than I was with Mr. Ex. Maybe that's true. I like to think of it this way - when you're with the right person, he brings out the very best in you so that you are the best possible version of yourself. He is like a spotlight shining on all the wonderful qualities that are you so that the flaws don't matter as much.

Only in that loving spotlight will we learn to shine like the gems we truly are meant to be and know who we really are.

Remind Me, Dear Lord

I have a confession. This morning was pity party time, attendance 1. I've been here a whole week and still don't have all my things unpacked. It's harder organizing and combining two households than I remembered. I've been here a whole week and have had no calls about any of the applications and resumes that I've sent out.

This is not how things were supposed to go. I had a plan.

I'm not sure how it happened, but somewhere in my life I got the notion that my self-worth should be directly connected to my performance, namely schoolwork when I was younger and then employment. If I did well in that area, I was valuable. If I did poorly, not so valuable.

That's how I became a workaholic....and now I'm in detox and hating it.

When the pity party was over and I realized that I'd wasted half the day, I decided to be a little productive and run some errands. As I was leaving the bank, I spied across the street a thrift store. Have I mentioned how much I love getting a good deal?

What I didn't realize before I went in was that this thrift store is part of the rescue mission across the street. So as I was perusing housewares for picture frames, baskets, and such, across the store two ladies were discussing the shelters they've lived in so far while they helped their kids pick the clothes the mission was giving them so they would have something to wear to school.

Ashamed of myself, I took my 2 small items to the register and politely wished the clerk a good day. As I got in my safe, comfortable truck, I thanked God for the paycheck I had just put in the bank, for the things I have, the food I was going to buy at the grocery store....and, yes, for the job I don't have yet but that I'm attempting to wait patiently for because I know He will supply just as He always has. In the back of my mind, I though of this old Dottie Rambo song I learned as a child.

Roll back the curtain of memories now and then
Show me where you brought me from
Oh, and where I could have been
Remember I’m human, and humans forget
So remind me, remind me dear Lord

Most of all, thank you, God, for sending me to the thrift store today for my reality check.

Turn the Page

Yes, I did shamelessly borrow my title from Bob Seger. In my defense, he really does rock and I think my stress level allows for low creativity levels. They are connected, believe it or not.

Stress...did someone say stress? Oh yes, my friend, that is where I have been living the last few weeks. Packing, driving a moving truck across 2 states, leaving my job - I can't believe I've done it, but I have. This is my last blog from Pennsylvania. When I started this blog it was to save my sanity. I only knew that I had to hang on because I had survived that marriage for a reason. God had a purpose in my life even if I had no idea what it was.

Now, here I am writing about moving on....really moving on, not merely saying it. No more baby steps. I'm scared to death but so incredibly excited. What could be better than being able to look toward the future and knowing without a doubt that it's going to be wonderful?

Tonight, I have nothing profound to share. No words of wisdom. I wanted to share my joy and hope that it encourages you that there is hope. That's not just a random word that only applies to other people. No matter how bad things are right now, they will get better. I won't lie - it's hard to get there. The struggle is not for the weak, but you're stronger than you know. Don't give up. Keep taking those baby steps. As long as you're going in the right direction, you'll get there eventually and it will get easier. I promise. It's not just words. I'm the proof that it really does happen.

Tomorrow, I will pick up the love of my life, leave the life I've built over the last three years, and we will start a whole new chapter in our lives. Can't wait to see what we'll write on that new page.

On the Road Again....

I'm beginning to believe that I may be part Hebrew. The first move of my adult life was to Indiana; I'm now returning to Indiana. Luke & I have been together for over a year; Luke & I dated in high school. Like Moses, I'm wandering in a desert hoping to get where I'm supposed to be. I only hope it doesn't take the next 40 years. On the other hand, some destinations deserve a second visit.

There are some things, though, that I just can't figure out about progress. Why is it that we have to leave what is safe and comfortable in order to grow? Why can't we stay where we are warm and sheltered and happy? It starts with being expelled from our mothers' wombs and continues the rest of our lives. If we are ever going to flourish and advance, we have to be able to let go and move on.

It's not an easy process. I've done it before and I'm getting ready to do it again. Last Friday, I walked into my manager's office and handed her my two week notice. The moving truck is reserved. As much as I cannot wait to be with the man of my dreams, the love of my life, I can't help but look back over the moves of the past that have brought me here.

When I came to Pennsylvania, I had the day before filed for divorce. I was distraught and thought that life would never go on. I didn't even want it to. There were days that the only reason I got out of bed was to keep Dad from fussing that I had to move on. I didn't want him to worry. Fortunately, he cared enough for both of us because I didn't care at all. The world could have stopped. I wouldn't have noticed.

Day by day, I put one foot in front of the other. I went to work. I built a small circle of friends - no small feat for a person with trust issues who assumes everyone is a serial killer until they prove otherwise.

I'm not sure exactly when it happened, but at some point, this started to feel like home. What are those? Are those little rootlets I've put down? Ahhh, that's nice. It's wonderful to feel like I belong.

But.....

Now I have to pull those roots out of the ground that has been my refuge for the past 3 years. I ran here when I had nowhere to go. This has been my safe place when the world was cold and scary. How can I leave? Even for him?

But.....

I will go. There will be tears. There will be days that I want nothing more than to call the girls to have a shopping day before Christmas, to call Carol and ask if Sophie has time for a play date with Auntie Sarah. Eventually Indiana will be home, just as Pennsylvania has been, though neither will ever compare with my true home of West Virginia. There will be new friends, different from the old. Old friends are never replaced. Luckily, there's always room for more friends, more love, more memories. One day I'll look back at this move and it won't seem as traumatic as it seems now.

God has blessed me with so much over the last 3 years. Sometimes blessings mean a change of direction in life. It's nice to be moving toward something wonderful instead of trying to find a shelter from the storm, but I know I'll have that, too, when the next storm comes along.

God, To-Do Lists, Parents, & Joyce Meyer

Pop quiz - What do these four things have in common? A. a few of my favorite things B. huge influences on my life C. random things that popped into my head while driving D. both A & B

If you chose D, you passed with flying colors!

Actually, I did think of these things while driving, but it was not random. Joyce Meyer was discussing whether or not parents check their children's to do lists before deciding whether or not they deserve help. I can honestly say that I cannot think of one parent - even a bad one - who would do that. When your child needs help, their list of chores are the least of your worries.

It's the same thing with God - thank goodness! When I come to Him with a problem, we don't have to have a discussion about what I've done right this week and what my areas that need improvement are. He just helps.

Thinking of this reminded me of something that I read once. It said that the relationship we have with our parents, especially our fathers, greatly shapes our view of God. If we grew up with strict, judgemental parents, we measure our value to God in terms of what we do. On the other hand, those people who were reared in a loving and supportive environment tend to have the same outlook of their Heavenly Father.

My dad is a perfect example of this.

Recently, the brakes on my truck started making a horrible grinding noise. There was no warning that they might be going bad. One day they just sounded like the wheels were coming off any minute. I did what I always do when something goes wrong - I called Dad. I was going to wait until the weekend to get them fixed, but that wasn't good enough.

The next thing I knew he was sending me a text saying that he's made an appointment with our mechanic to get it fixed the next day. Before I could even worry about anything, he told me that I could borrow his truck to get to work and if I needed help paying for the repair not to worry about it. Before I even asked, he had it taken care of.

God has it all worked out, too. That's something I'm still learning. I somehow feel that sitting around worrying about how it's going to come together when I can't see how all the pieces will fit is going to help. It doesn't. He already has the answer. It doesn't matter if all my chores are done. I don't have to be perfect - or even close. I'm His child, He loves me, and that's all that matters.

Mama Was Right

It's been almost 7 years since my mother died and she still manages to be right all the time. This time, however, I'm not that unhappy about it.

I was about 16 years old the first time she said to me, "One of these days you'll marry an Iowa corn farmer." I responded with a very lady-like snort of disdain. Me? A farmer's wife? I think not. I had eyes only for the well-dressed, not-a-hair-out-of-place city boy. In other words, he had to be from out of town. Or out of state. I had no intention of staying in West Virginia and less desire to marry a country boy. As much as it pains me to admit it, I was a snob.

In retrospect, I think my mom understood me better than I understood myself. For me, wearing the perfect outfit with amazing shoes an nary a hair out of place was like wearing a suit of armor. It kept people at arm's length, out of my personal space. Having an impeccable appearance might convince the world that I wasn't a terrified girl with so many insecurities it was difficult to leave her house. If they found it intimidating, so much the better. That only meant they wouldn't question the validity of my ruse. This was the only way I felt safe, so I looked for the same outward perfection in other people.

What I never could have expected is that eventually I would find out the hard way that you really can't judge a book by it's cover....or sometimes even by the first chapter.

Eventually the armor falls apart and we are forced to live in reality. I've found it's much more comfortable to admit my faults than to live in fear of being found out as an imperfect person. No, I don't wake up with my hair looking perfect in the morning. In fact, we won't talk about how bad it really looks. But finding someone who can look at you when you think you're a mess and tell you that he thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen - and really mean it - somehow makes it feel a little more ok to run to the store for milk in sneakers instead of heels.

He's not an Iowa farmer, but Mom had the right concept. She knew that eventually I'd learn that a good heart and a lot of substance is worth more than an expensive wardrobe.

My Apologies, Michigan

For those of you who have not been privileged to visit the wonderful metro area that is Detroit, Michigan, let me describe it to you. It's over-crowded, noisy, hot and oppressively humid in summer, and cold and blustery in the winter. The spring wreaks havoc on one's allergies. It's only redeeming quality in the weather department is the gorgeous autumn. While it is not my favorite place to abide year-round, it is home to some of the best friends I have ever known.

Until today, I did not realize what an injustice I have done to the great state of Michigan, all because of one person.

The entire 3 1/2 years that I lived in Michigan, I couldn't wait to get out. That is what we agreed upon before I packed my things and relocated. He loved WV and wanted to live in the country. That was the plan. We OCD'ers love plans - until they don't come together.

Because my ex, who will now be referred to as Mr. ADD, did not love plans, I was doomed to remain in the abyss of the suburbs. I really thought that if only I could make him stick to the plan, all our problems would magically disappear. That's why we weren't happy. We didn't stick to the plan. Yes, of course, that was it. If only we lived somewhere besides that hated M state, we could be happy.

Scoff, if you must, but a desperate woman will blame even geography for her misery.

In the last few weeks, through conversations and reminiscing, I've realized that I could have been happy in Michigan. I don't think that either of us would have ever truly been happy together, but moving to another state or another country or another planet would not have changed that.

Michigan, I don't hate you. I've blamed you for far too long. Can you ever forgive me so we can be friends again? Could we go back to the days when I looked forward to visiting you before I knew Mr. ADD? I won't let him ruin our friendship any more if you won't.

Life Lessons from Bob Wiley

If you've met me and you've seen the movie "What about Bob?", you already know that Bob Wiley and I really are the same person. I was slightly shocked when my aunt pointed this out...until I watched the movie and realized she was right. In this my first post of the new year, I'd like to share some of the things I've learned from good ol' Bob.



~ Near death experiences can be very enlightening.



~ Don't underestimate the value of a best friend - even if he's a goldfish named Gil.



~ If you take 1 baby step at a time, you can go anywhere.



~ Friends are better than therapists. They listen to you because they love you, not because they get paid.



~ You should defiitely fake Tourette's syndrome occasionally, just to make sure you don't have it.



~ Never buy someone else's dream house. You have no idea how dangerous the bitterly disappointed can be.



~ Always know where the bathrooms are. You don't want your bladder to explode because you can't find one.



~ The world is scary. Give yourself credit for being brave enough to go out every day.



~ When all else fails, repeat this mantra as you walk down the street: "I feel
good. I feel great. I feel wonderful." It really does work.