What, why and WHO?

Wonderstruck is proving to be one heck of a ride into God’s wonder and love. Also proving to have exciting twists and turns into and through me. I am seeing sides of me that I thought for years I have known and been well acquainted with…until I am faced with actually seeing me through the eyes of a great and merciful God who loves me beyond my own understanding.

When we started this series courage had welled up in me to just be who I am. I am doing myself a favor and not putting a cap on my heart and a filter on my mouth. (not that I’m disrespectful) I have long had tendencies to worry way to much about what I think others will think of my thoughts and feelings. I became increasingly thought entangled when I was asked to lead the class when our leader would be unavailable to be present.  I determined that I would go to our weekly women’s meeting and just be open and see what happens. I even gave myself a pep talk…

you can do it, it will be ok, you have nothing to be ashamed of when you are being who you are!

As time has gone on, we entered into the conversation in chapter 2 of our book that presented the question: Do you have a tendency to focus on the why’s or on who?

There was a pause for thinking and I decided to go for it …so I said what I was thinking…

Why? I don’t need to know why! I know why! What, is what I want to know! What were you thinking? What is the point? What do I do now?

With each question that came up I found myself willing to speak …one time I thought I was talking to much, so I went quiet. At the end of the meeting I was flooded with some fear and worry. I had the impression in my heart and mind that I should be embarrassed for saying what I thought and felt. I remember telling myself “ I will not be embarrassed for sharing myself!”

Later when I was reading I was reminded of my words

….Why? I don’t need to know why! I know why! What is what I want to know! What were you thinking? What is the point? …….

God quickly revealed the truth to my heart

Why is a question only the heart knows… Why is motivational.

1 Sam 16:7b  For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”

I only think I know why when it comes to other people and myself for that matter!  I found the reason I lie to myself and turn why into a what question, it is because I am afraid of not knowing and I have much anxiety. I want to know what to do about it.

Through this Wonderstruck book and DVD series we are doing I am learning to seek WHO when I have questions. The WHO, who knows, why? I am learning that when I question why and seek HIM even through my fear of unknowing, He is trustworthy to bring me to a peaceful place.

I don’t have to know why…

I don’t have to let the fears and worries of not knowing, or not being smart enough, or not having answers, consume me. I can simply go to the One who knows all the why’s and trust Him and find rest for my weary and questioning soul.

I also see that when I allow me to be who I am, speak what I am thinking and feeling…I find God meeting me there in that honesty to bring me to His reality and truth. For me I am determining that HIM meeting me there is the place I want to be … with HIM.

GROWING in Christ …is the best place to be!




Surviving Truth

I awoke out of a dead sleep. I tried to turn over and I heard the voice of a male say in a deep hush “don’t move.” I thought to myself am I dreaming and I tried to move again.  He spoke sharply “I said! don’t move!” but this time he pressed something like a knife, the tip felt like what I thought an ice pick might feel like and I froze. I was suddenly aware of what was happening. He then said, “lift up your shirt.” I said quietly and defiant “no!”  He repeated himself and so did I. He said more urgently “get up, slowly, don’t look at me!” and he pressed my face forward as he pulled me out of my bed.  I’m standing  in sweat pants and a t-shirt  I can feel the coolness of the floor on my bare feet. He stood just behind me to my right. His hand pressed on my left shoulder and his right hand held the knife to the side of my neck. He was tall. His shoulder was about level with my head and I could see out of the corner of my eye the tip of his nose and the light from the window shown off the top of his forehead. He moved  a little closer to me and wrapped his arm around my shoulders covering my chest. I reach up and grabbed his wrist to pull it down and away from my throat. I could feel a gauze-like covering on his arm. He said “ we are going to walk out of here! If you scream I will cut you!

Earlier that day I had met a man that introduced himself by his nickname, he called himself QT. Something about this man in my room seemed vaguely familiar. So I calmly said to the man “you’re QT aren’t you?”  He said, “no I’m not, now let’s go!” And again, I said “yes, you are! you are QT.” I remember thinking at this point it is very odd that he would be arguing with me if this was not QT. He said, “ stop saying that, no I am not!” And again I said, “ yes, you are!” This time, he gave me a jerking shove toward the door and said: “ let’s go!” I realized this was my last chance, either I find the courage to do something or this man is taking me out of my home.

My Mother and her boyfriend had their  bedroom right next to mine and it was about 2 o’clock in the morning. I had decided that there was NO WAY this man was taking me anywhere. He could cut me, kill me right here but he was not taking me anywhere to do whatever terrible thing he had in mind.  I knew what was up. I was an avid watcher of murder mystery and cop shows. I knew that if a perpetrator could remove you from the 1st location to a secondary location that you were as good as dead. So it was time to make a stand. I released all the emotion I had been holding back in order to stay calm and I felt a boil of rage, fear and terror coming from the bottom of my soul and it traveled up through my guts into my stomach and came out my mouth. It was a blood-curdling scream like nothing I have ever heard come out of me since. It was the stuff made of primal instinct, the reactions of the desperation for survival. I bared down and said in the most gut belting screech

“It’ssssssssssssssssss QT, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

I heard the words “what the hell” come from the other room and so did this man who had thought he was taking me out of my home. He ran with swiftness and precision like he knew my house layout perfectly. The only thing that slowed his pace was in trying to open the front door. It was always locked with the bottom lock, the dead bolt, and the chain. That chain caught him by surprise, a detail he may have overlooked.  His pounding footsteps, the sounding bang of the chain catching the door and that door left wide open was the only evidence to my mom and her boyfriend of what just happened. My mom’s boyfriend ran out the door to see which way he had gone. My mom called the police.

While we waited for the cops. I told myself to calm down, I knew I was no longer in any harm. I didn’t think being an emotional mess would be helpful to the police. They needed the facts so they could catch the guy. The cop that came questioned me like I was up to no good. All his words forming skeptical and non-compassionate pictures. He kept asking me why I was so calm as if calmness meant I was a liar. He kept insinuating that I must have had my boyfriend over and it got a little to ruff and we made noise and this was the story to cover it up. He had decided that what I was telling him was not true based on the fact that I was not an emotional wreck.  The cop said to my mom “ you have quite a little actress there!” Needless to say, my mom told them to get out of her house. They never caught the guy. I’m not sure they ever really looked.

By all rights, I should be scared of dark nights, of being alone, fearful of an attacker coming into my home. But honestly, I am not. This moment in my life didn’t cause me physical fears. It formed spiritual ones. We all have been bent and shaped by the circumstances in our lives. For me,  I was more afraid of being considered dishonest, afraid of my word not being trusted. Through situations like this and a few others in younger years, I acquired a tape in my mind. It told me that people won’t believe me even if I do tell the truth. I have been in more situations than I can count where I think I hear accusation and insinuation or a little smidge of disbelief. I find myself studying the look on people’s faces or the tone in their voices, in reaction to what I am saying and I would shut down, turn off, and stop all communication if I caught a slight gathering that they didn’t believe me.

This belief system had formed the warped ways I had  expected trust from people all the while distrusting them. Instead of realizing that they have their own tapes from their own broken stories.

Psalm 44:21

would not God have discovered it, since he knows the secrets of the heart?

The Lord asks “ Do you trust me?”
Fear of what a person thinks was my warped expression of the need for trust and safety.

Through many years of God teaching me layers of what this trust issue looks like I have learned  I can be open and not shut down. I trust in God that while I am speaking my truth, no matter what happens, He will never change, nor will who He says I am or how He loves me.  Either I bow to fear and go silent or I stand in honor of my True King and speak rightly. He knows. He wants to walk with me through it all. Jesus wants to comfort me even when no one believes what I say and encourage me when I am afraid to speak with courage.

Do I stand or fall by what men may think or say?….no, not at all unless I embrace the fear.

I need only be grounded in the truth that God is the One I can fully trust to hear me, know me, and completely understand me and keep me, no matter what people around me may believe.


I am linking with Emily @ Imperfect Prose

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World out of whack

I am really not that hard to please, child. -God

– Let’s Talk -Cynthia Bezek

I was reading this post and these words……

These words touch me deep

How often do I take moments, just ordinary daily moments and churn them into nothing good because I choose to be hard to please?

And going deeper….


Isn’t being hard to please rooted in not trusting that the hand God has given is not the best hand to get? That laundry and dishes, and dinner too late in the evening, and piles left for me to pick up, are not things that please but things that I allow to harden my heart.

Trusting God is better than pleasing God ….

For pleasing God is grafted from that place that says I can work my way into His good pleasure. But trusting God always brings His pleasure on me because I am walking in faith of what He can do!

I find this connection to when I have disconnected from trusting my Lord that I find fear, worry, doubt, anger, dissatisfaction wake upon my heart like a tempest tossed sea coast.

And when I am full of anxiety, my body is worn and my heart is heavy…when terrorist strike and explosions dislodge the soul from its source. When life out there in the world seems so out of whack, that the inner here in my home and here in my heart going on high alert to right the wrongs. A need for order and rightness bares down in upper management decrees and need for control. Clean this, do that, do this, pick up your room, take out the garbage….and when that still doesn’t fill the need…this God who loves opens a moment of joy to walk into…

In the middle of my mind fighting for pushy dictatorship to right the house up now!…I see a girl…my girl in the grass and I get a nudge to join her.

I spent the whole afternoon resting in the grass on a blanket, reading a book, talking to my daughter, enjoying the sunshine and watching my son play in the yard. Having shared heart convo’s and telling of tales and giving of thanks.

It really was more delightful that working to right the wrongs!

Psalm 16:9

And so my heart is glad. My soul is full of joy. My body also will rest without fear.