Transformation 5: No Sugar

This is the fifth post in a five part collection about my word from God for 2016 – TRANSFORM.

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”  Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me… For when I am weak, then I am strong.  -2 Corinthians 12:9-10

Have you ever watched one of those home renovation shows?  There are tons of them out there:  Fixer Upper, Property Brothers, Flip or Flop, to name a few.  I love those shows.  With Fixer Upper, especially, I always know that the homebuyers are going to choose the absolute worst, rundown, ramshackle house.  The more messed up the house is, the more excited I am to watch because they always transform the house into something amazing.  Shiplap is usually involved (other fans – you know what I’m talking about!). 

My final transformation of 2016 is a lot like a Fixer Upper house – in process.  And, by “in process”, I mean it looks like a wreck.  I titled this No Sugar, but really, God is guiding me to let go of all the things I use to fill or distract myself instead of worshiping Him.  I am currently feeling some highs and lows of demolition.  Walls are coming down, old funky systems that don’t work are being ripped out, and I am uncomfortable. 

Sugar has been a lifelong source of comfort.  I turn to candy when I’m bored, anxious, unsettled, or tired.  I put it in the category of an addiction because the pull is so intense that, until a month ago, I couldn’t imagine making it through a day without having sugar in some form.  I am positive that I can’t control my urge for sugar because I’ve tried countless times and ways for over 15 years.  At the end of 2016, God showed me that He was going to take this addiction out of my life.  Because He’s God and isn’t concerned with my powerlessness, He chose to do this two weeks before Christmas – the pinnacle of sugary holidays!

With God’s help, I’ve been mostly free of sugar for a month and a half.  I call it surfing a wave of grace.  When surfers are riding the wave, they are using muscles to maintain their position, but it isn’t a struggle.  They just have to keep going.  That’s what it felt like.  Someone would offer me a treat and I’d quickly turn it down.  I couldn’t think about it much or get into pity party mode.  I had to just keep going.  There were hard days, especially as my body went through physical symptoms of detoxifying from all the sugar I’d been feeding it up until then.  There were some wipe outs too:  days when I chose to soothe discomfort with a cupcake or some chocolate chips.  But there were awesome moments, when I realized I’d gone several days without even thinking about bingeing.  I was just living, enjoying the wave.

Even in the past month when I was sugar free, I found myself feeling addicted to Pinterest and Youtube for the first time.  I have this pull to fill myself with something – anything – so I don’t have to feel what I don’t want to feel or do what I don’t want to do.  Who cares if I’m off sugar, if I’m still looking for wholeness in something other than God?  Pinterest is just another sugar; a filler. 

Home renovators don’t leave an empty, demolished house.  Something new has to go in.  That’s where I am today:  a place of choosing what replaces the old.  Mentally, I know that God is the only true satisfaction, the only solution to my hurts, the only real joy and purpose in life.  I know it, but I’ve allowed other temptations to dull my palate.  Choosing God in a place where I would normally fill myself with sugar does not feel right in the beginning.  It’s a big shift – a death, even, to doing things my way.  For breakfast, my bowl of oatmeal used to be more like a cookie because of all the brown sugar I used.  When I replaced that with slices of banana, my oatmeal tasted really bland.  Over time, that banana has become so yummy and satisfying.   Through this ongoing transformation, God is intensifying the sweetness of His presence in my life.  He is taking back His rightful place as my go-to when things are tough.  

I look at my ramshackle self and say, “What a mess.”  When the Fixer Upper couple looks at a messed up house, they see exciting potential.  God is the ultimate renovator.  The more run down we are, the more glorious His work.  He has unlimited skill and unlimited resources.  He’s not afraid His vision won’t turn out right in the end.  God is creative and intentional.   “I know exactly what I want to do with this,” He says as He walks through the halls of our heart.   He delights in the work; in showing us what we were made for.   We were made to honor Him.

Transformation 4: No Panic

This is the fourth post in a five part collection about my word from God for 2016 – TRANSFORM.

Last week, I read a Facebook comment from a discussion group I follow.  The woman said she suffered from debilitating anxiety.  I began typing a reply to tell her that I would pray for her.  I started with, “I struggle with anxiety too…”  Then I stopped.  Backspace, backspace, backspace.  That’s no longer accurate.  I started over, “There was a time in my recent past where anxiety dominated my life.  I will be praying for you.”

One of God’s beautiful transformations in the past year was to set me free from panic attacks.  I’m still letting my new reality soak in.  I used to think it was healthy and realistic to accept that panic would always be a part of my life in some way; like an embarrassing, outdated tattoo I’d always try to hide. 

Since I’ve written about my battle with panic attacks before, I’ll just provide a brief background here.  Many people experience panic attacks differently.  I found a definition that says a panic attack is “a sudden feeling of acute and disabling anxiety.”  For me, that meant a worry that would escalate into hyperventilating, heart racing, crying, and severe chest pressure.  I would become gripped with fear and often not be completely certain how it started or what I was upset about.  This could last anywhere from a couple of minutes to fifteen minutes.  The worst part was always not being able to breathe.  It’s a very scary feeling.

These attacks started six years ago and stopped somewhere in mid 2016.  I can’t tell you when exactly they ended, which I actually love.  It’s distant enough that I have no memory of a recent attack.  There was a time in this six year period in which I was having two or three panic attacks in a day.  My healing has been a gradual one.  A big piece was being diagnosed with Celiac disease.  Through panic attacks, my body was trying to tell me it needed help.  The day I found out, my naturopath told me, “If I didn’t know you, but just looked at these blood results, I’d say this is a non-functioning person.”  I’ve been through changes in relationship, medication, counseling, prayer, exercise, and a host of other factors that have contributed to better panic management.  At the start of 2016 I would say my panic was manageable.  Present, but manageable.  I could live with that, but God had another plan.

I believe panic left completely through the question, “What if….?”  “What if?” has always been a one-way street.  The only place it ever took me was to a negative outcome.  What if we get into a car accident?  What if Luke gets really sick?  What if we don’t have enough money for me to be a stay-at-home mom? 

When I first started dating my husband, Jeff, things weren’t going very well at my job.  I was teaching fourth grade and had behavior issues in class that were far beyond my skill set.  It was overwhelming and I wasn’t handling it well at all.  My principal scheduled a meeting with me, but didn’t tell me why.  I remember telling Jeff that the meeting was coming up and I started my list.  “What if he’s going to have me transferred?  What if the parents are pissed and want to sue the school?  What if they’re giving me another student?  I know I’m in some kind of trouble.” 

Jeff replied, “What if it’s really good?”

I didn’t know what to say.  I didn’t know the “What if” street could go another way.

He continued, “Yeah, your principal knows it’s not good right now.  Maybe he wants to help.”

I wasn’t buying it, but sure, we could keep that “what if” on the list with my other ones.  Well, Jeff’s guess was correct.  My principal gave me encouragement and wanted to help if he could.  I was shocked because all my imaginary evidence had prepared me for the opposite.

Earlier this year, my Bible study buddy and I were talking about issues that we kept dealing with in life.  Mine was anxiety, of course.  I was searching for tips more than healing.  She proposed a positive “what if”:  “What if you didn’t have panic attacks anymore?”  Again, it forced me to look the other way on What If Boulevard. 

Shortly after that Bible study time, I was making dinner and Luke did not want to nap.  He would only settle down if I was holding him.  Jeff was coming home any minute and I wanted to have dinner ready for us, but I was struggling to do everything one handed.  When he came in the door, Luke was wailing, the food was burning, and my lungs were tightening.  It seemed like a panic attack was imminent.  At a time when my overriding thought would normally be, “You failed.  You’re a bad mom and a bad wife,” God spoke louder, “What if you didn’t have panic attacks anymore?”   Jeff scooped Luke up, and without explanation, I went into our laundry room and took deep breaths.  In a couple of minutes, my lungs relaxed.  I came out and told Jeff I was feeling overwhelmed.  Could he help me with Luke or dinner?  Everything worked out.  Not perfectly, but without panic.

Months passed, and I continued to walk out similar situations by stepping away, breathing and praying, and then moving on.  Jeff commented that I wasn’t having panic attacks anymore.  I said, “Yeah!  I’m just as surprised as you are!”  He wasn’t surprised; he had been praying this for months.

In Matthew 9:26 Jesus says, “With man, this is impossible, but with God, all things are possible.”  When my “what ifs” were all ending in something negative, I was basing the outcome on my ability (or rather, my inability).  God’s presence in a situation not only makes the outcome positive, but He makes the impossible possible.  It makes me excited to pray for other areas of my life or in the world that seem to be stuck.  When I start to think, ‘It’ll always be this way,’ I’m challenged to get on my knees and say, “God, you can do anything.  What if this situation turned out really good because of You?”

Transformation 3: Consistency

This is the third post in a five part collection about my word from God for 2016 – TRANSFORM.

Last year, I bought a plant because its label read “Thrives on Neglect”.  “Perfect,”  I thought, tucking  it into my cart.  A year ago, inconsistency characterized many areas of my life – plant care included.  Part of that was due to taking care of a newborn who wasn’t terribly concerned with schedules or routines.  The other part was my habit of blowing off anything that seemed hard.  The trouble was, I was still wearing maternity pants and that bugged the heck out of me.  If only I could figure out a way to keep neglecting exercise and get back to my pre-pregnancy weight.  As it turned out, I needed help beyond exercise.  Throughout the year, God showed me more of Himself through building consistency in my life.

Once I realized that God was leading me in greater consistency, my baseline requirement for myself was to just show up.  Sometimes I studied a Bible passage and sometimes I sang some worship songs in the shower.   Sometimes I walked on the treadmill and sometimes I lifted weights with a friend.  Feelings, time of day, method – those things were secondary to simply doing what I said I’d do.  While this may seem like a low metric for success, I discovered powerful things can happen when you show up.

One morning, I was in a pretty deep slump.  Some tough things had happened and I was projecting my feelings on God.  The last thing I wanted to do was go to Bible study.  I wasn’t in the mood to smile and sing.  But, guess what?  I was committed to consistency.  Showing up.  So, I got myself and Luke dressed and we went.  At Bible study, they choose a different table group to receive prayer every week.  Our table hadn’t been called yet, and in my brooding, I knew my table was going to be picked that day.  “It would be just like God to reach out to me when I’m mad at Him,” I thought.  I was like a sullen teenager who still expects their parent to knock on their door and offer a hug.  The study leader rustled her fingers in the box and pulled out a paper.  “Table 5!” she read.  That’s me!

That prayer time was restorative.  I felt like a new person at the end.  One of the women who prayed for me suggested that I sign up for a ministry session called Sozo, where trained intercessors lead you through deep healing prayer.  I followed through and made an appointment.  When they asked me why I was there, I told them I was showing up to see what God would do.  That was becoming my answer for a lot of things in life.  God met with me and I actually had a lot of fun during the session.

On the way home that night, I noticed a man jogging on the sidewalk and I felt like I was supposed to help him somehow.  It was dark and I was by myself, so I wanted to make sure I was hearing from God.  I turned the car around and told God, “If he’s still there when I drive back that way, I’ll stop.”  The guy was still there, so I pulled over onto a side street and walked to the sidewalk to meet him.    “Hi!” I called out, “Do you need a ride home?”  I honestly wasn’t sure why God wanted me to stop, so I took a stab at the reason.  The man apologized for not understanding me and said he didn’t speak English very well.  I live in a town with a strong Spanish-speaking community, but I don’t know Spanish.  Bummer, right?  Well, this is God we’re talking about, so the story’s not over.  As I got closer to the man, I realized he wasn’t Hispanic.  

“Ni hui shuo Zhongwen ma?” I asked (Do you speak Chinese?).  His eyes brightened and he nodded.  I don’t speak Spanish, but I do speak some Chinese.  This man was from a town near Beijing, where I lived for one year.  He ran a local restaurant and was out jogging for exercise.  I tried to tell him that God asked me to stop and talk to him.  I wasn’t making sense though.  So, I asked if he knew Jesus.  Yes, he respected Jesus.  “Jesus is your friend,” I said in Mandarin.  The man’s eyes widened and he shook his head no.  “It’s true,” I said, “Jesus is your friend.”  The situation must have gotten too weird for him at that point because he said he had to go home, and he continued his jog.  I don’t know what God is doing in that man’s life, or why we had that stilted conversation.  It strikes me as unique, though, that in a town of Spanish speakers, I pull over to talk to the one Chinese speaker. 

I never made a goal to tell a Chinese man about Jesus’ friendship.  I said yes to God asking me to be consistent and I went to Bible study when I didn’t feel like going.  That decision opened the door to the next yes, and the next. 

There are so many little ways He helped me add consistency over the past year:  morning Bible reading, planning our weekly dinners, reading with Luke every day, regularly spending time with my great aunt.    Something that made this transformation much easier was involving others.  With exercise, it started with two other moms going for walks with me.  One time, we did yoga in the living room while Luke took a nap in my friend’s son’s crib.  Later, God gave me another friend who wanted to run with me twice a week.  It’s snowy outside, so now we lift weights in her basement with four little boys playing all around us.  Many days, I don’t want to exercise, but I know my friend waiting for me and neither of us is going to be the first one to cancel.  I don’t think I could have been this dedicated on my own. 

Matthew 6:33 tells us to seek God’s kingdom and His righteousness first, and all these things will be given to us too.  This verse follows instructions to not worry about all the little stuff in life – what to eat, what to wear, etc.  Those are “these things”.  In giving this message, I feel like Jesus understood my propensity to run after these positive changes for my own benefit.  It’s a deeper challenge for me to say, “God, whether I get the outcome I want or not, please use this commitment for Your purposes.  What do You want out of this?”  God’s goodness in our life begins with seeking Him.

Looking back is affirming because I can see how much growth happened.   I can be hard on myself for the times when I have trouble sticking to commitments.  I still forget to water the plants.  It’s good that I buy the ones that don’t need much attention.  However, this transformation has shown me that I don’t thrive on neglect. 

Transformation 2: Catholicism

This is the second post in a five part collection about my word from God for 2016 – TRANSFORM.

Christ with me, 

Christ before me, 

Christ behind me, 

Christ in me, 

Christ beneath me, 

Christ above me, 

Christ on my right, 

Christ on my left, 

Christ when I lie down, 

Christ when I sit down, 

Christ when I arise, 

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me, 

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, 

Christ in every eye that sees me, 

Christ in every ear that hears me.

 -from Saint Patrick’s Breastplate Prayer

I’ve been dancing as long as I can remember.  My early life can be counted in beats of 8, with leotards, sequins, and blue eye shadow.  If you didn’t catch that last detail, it means I’m an 80’s child.  Even though I no longer take ballet and tap lessons, I can still easily pick up dance steps.  The first time I went to Catholic mass with Jeff, I was in the center of a new dance and I couldn’t anticipate the next steps.  People in the pews around me were in synch.  I watched and tried to stay on the beat – when to stand, when to sit, when to sing.  I wanted to learn the routine so I wouldn’t stick out.  That’s how this transformation started.

Here’s the background:  My mom was raised Catholic, and then was baptized as a born-again Christian in her 20’s.  I grew up enjoying stories about her teachers: nuns who weren’t afraid to whap you with a ruler if you got out of line.  My mom knew Latin and she once put a Kleenex on her head for mass because her head was supposed to be covered and she forgot her scarf.  My parents raised us in a United Methodist church.  I only attended a Catholic mass once when my brother Bryan’s choir performed at one.  While looking for the bathroom, I turned a corner, bumped into a life-size statue of Jesus on the cross, and nearly peed right there on the hallway floor.

A couple of decades later, I met my future husband, Jeff, who attends both a Presbyterian and a Catholic church.  I’m somebody who isn’t concerned with a church’s denomination as much as its core beliefs.  Jeff and I were in agreement about those (https://www.ewtn.com/Devotionals/prayers/creed2.htm).  He kept the invitation open, but didn’t push me to go with him.  I rarely attended because I felt so out of place.  When I did attend, I was analyzing the dance, rather than expecting to meet with God.

As Sunday nights passed with me at home watching TV and Jeff at mass, I felt God tugging me to go with Jeff.  There were so many things I didn’t understand or didn’t trust.  What about the bread and wine actually being the body and blood of Christ?  What about praying to Mary and saints?  Why do they pray for people who have already died?  I was content in my faith, but sensed God had more to teach me through the things that made me uncomfortable.

The final drive that got me to attend mass was a decision to be under Jeff’s spiritual leadership.  I believe that the husband is the family’s God-given covering and with my actions, I was saying, “God, I agree with your good design.  I’m with You.  I’m with Jeff.”  After that step, I still had barriers in my heart about all I didn’t understand, but I was confident that I was in the right place.

This is not the story of how I became Catholic.  This is the story of how my relationship with God was beautifully transformed when viewed through the lens of Catholicism.

A friend gave me a book explaining the Scriptural foundation for each part of mass.  I had the book in one hand and the Bible in the other.  I prayed for the Holy Spirit to teach me as I studied.  The very first chapter explained the significance of the priest’s opening words, “The Lord be with you.”  Matthew 18:20 says that when two or three are gathered in Jesus’ name, He is there in their midst.  The words confirm the reality of Jesus’ presence with all assembled in the sanctuary, and they remind us of the reality of God’s life in us because of our baptism.  Biblical heroes – Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Joshua, David, Mary - were told “The Lord is with you” when they were called to daunting missions that forced them to rely on God like never before. Whatever was going on with you when you came to mass, the Lord’s real presence covered it.  That was just the first sentence of mass.  The power of those words was so awesome to me that I thought, ‘I could go to the first minute and a half of mass and leave, full of God’s truth.’  Wow.

I was stuck on my questions about communion, or Eucharist.  I currently do not receive communion at our cathedral because I respect that you need to believe that the elements are the actual body and blood of Christ.  I’m not there yet.  There is time set aside for silent kneeling before God after receiving communion.  In that quiet space, I thought, ‘How would it affect my experience of the bread and wine if they actually were Christ’s body and blood?’  Communion has always been characterized by gratitude.  I’m deeply grateful for Jesus’ sacrificial death and the eternal life I have as a result.  But what if I think about His actual self coming to the sanctuary, and then inside me?  The one and only God.  Alpha and Omega.  The fire of His holiness, burning up all the unholy inside.  The purity of His love, having a home in my broken places.  The fellowship of being one with God!  With this revelation, my gratitude was covered over with the sweet honey of awe and reverence.  Now, I see the need for silence after taking communion.  It’s space for processing and properly receiving the miracle that has just taken place.

In trying to learn the choreography of mass, I missed a key element of good dancing:

heart.  No one wants to watch a dancer robotically carrying out a choreographer’s design.  There’s no life in that.  A good dancer moves from the passion of their soul, and each step, each turn, breathes that conviction.  The audience is captivated because the dancer has offered a piece of themselves.  As I continue to learn the words and motions that move Catholic mass forward, I am engaging my heart as well, that He may receive honor through my movement.

In my mom’s story and in mine, God reached out to us and helped us know Him in ways that strayed from our comfortable normal.  Knowing more about God is great, but as I’ve been writing, I’ve been thinking, ‘Is that the whole point?  That God wants relationship with everyone?’  My answer came this morning.  On Thursdays, I attend Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) and we are studying the book of John.  Our most recent lesson was about chapter 9 where Jesus heals a blind man.  Jesus put mud on the man’s eyes and told him to go wash in the Pool of Siloam.  The blind man got his sight but didn’t know who had healed him.  Jesus went and found the man later on and told him that He was the Son of Man, the Messiah.  The man believed and received eternal life.  In one day, he was transformed to see physically and spiritually.  Our BSF teacher said it this way, “Jesus shows us who He is and calls us to believe.”  That’s the step beyond seeing God – accepting that Jesus is the Savior of the world.  Wherever you are in your faith, I pray that you would be okay with trying something uncomfortable.  I pray that you would see Jesus in a new light and accept all the love He has for you.  It will be delightfully transformative.  I promise!