Dear Depression {Because So Many Suffer Silently} {Day 19 of 31 Days of Letters}

From my beautiful friend, Krysten.  When I get mucked up in theology, she answers.  When I need an ear to complain to, she lends one.  She might not live close to me, but she’s always just a text away…ready to listen and love – and correct.  She helps me grow in grace.  She also struggles with depression – to which she wrote this letter…

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Dear Depression,

Of all the uninvited guests I can think of, you are the worst.

I mean, you steal from me. You insult me. You lie to me and get in the way of so many good things in life—love, friendship, health, joy.

Even a door-to-door salesman is less bothersome than that.

The worst part is, you make it so hard for me to talk about you. Your boss, my enemy, chose his target well. I’m supposed to be the encourager. I’m supposed to be the one with the positive outlook – the determination to do tough things. Those are the works that have been prepared in advance for me to do. And I love doing them.

So it makes sense that my enemy chose you to squat on my doorstep as often as you can because your visits often erode my willingness to carry out those purposes.

And to make it even harder, because of my love for Jesus, there are some people who say that I shouldn’t even struggle with you. Some of them even say that you don’t exist or that I must be doing something wrong if you stop by even once in a while. They say you are evidence in my life that I’m not loving Jesus enough.

I know these folks probably mean well, and I know the perspective they are coming from. But the world we live in isn’t perfect, and because of that we have imperfect, annoying things like you, Depression. You are a result of this terribly imperfect world.

But because of Jesus, I can put you into perspective.

I have become much better at spotting your grey cloud way off in the distance and recognizing that you’re heading my way. You used to be so crafty that I couldn’t see you ahead of time and couldn’t fight you off. You’d just envelope me before I knew what was happening. And all of a sudden, I would be in that “funk” that I didn’t know how to explain.

But now, I can see the cloud and brace myself.  I know the times of year that you tend to rear your ugly head more than usual. I can rally my friends to help pray you away, and even if you stop by, your visits aren’t nearly as long and painful.

Because the One who made me reminds me that He has also remade me. I am a new creation, and the old things have gone away. I don’t have to hold on to the things in my past that typically fuel your accusations and insults.

And when you visit to berate me about how things are going now and try to show me that I am not really worth it or not really dedicated, I know how to speak truth right back at you to combat your lies.

You are losing your power over me. And I think that each day, you are starting to forget my address just a little.

Before long, you’ll see my resolve strengthened even more. You will hear my laughter and become sullen because you’ll see how much more difficult your job is going to be. You will see the group of friends around me that now know about your visits and how they refuse to allow you to come near me. You’ll be headed my way and you will hear so many prayers on by behalf from off in the distance, you won’t even be able to continue your journey in my direction. I’m looking forward to that day.

Until then, Depression, you may stop by a few times. I know this. I can sense it. But because I have listened to my Creator and have told the people I love how often you really visit, I have a community helping to defend me now. They are all keeping watch for me, looking for you to creep in, and calling you out before you even reach the edge of town.

I look forward to the day that even if you somehow make it to my doorstep and ring my doorbell, I can look through the peephole and just refuse to answer because I know who I am and Whose I am, and I can simply say that you are not welcome here.

There’s too much life to be lived.

Krysten

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from Krysten to me…

This was hard for me to write. Even though I have never been diagnosed with clinical depression, it is something I have struggled with much of my life. Like the letter says, I have become better at fighting it off, but only because I have opened up much more about it in recent years. If I had continued to shrug it off as a weird “funk” that comes around sometimes, I would still be trying to ward it off myself.

Being a follower of Jesus, I’ve been surprised at some folks’ reactions to opening up about my struggle with depression. I’ve been made to feel like I was the cause of it, because surely a “real” Christian wouldn’t struggle with such a thing. But I know that’s not true, and even though I don’t know exactly why this happens or exactly how to keep it at bay, I know that God says to call to Him and He will answer and show us great and mighty things which we cannot know on our own (Jeremiah 33:3).  So that’s what I do. I call to Him, He helps me understand the underlying things that cause this and what I can do about them.

The number one thing I would suggest to someone struggling with depression is to open up about it. Talk to trusted people who are already part of your story, and tell them that this thing is in your life. Then it’s not just one person fighting; it’s a team of people praying and watching to help fend this off.

Community is the key to surviving depression (and most other things, in my opinion!). I still get surprised looks from folks when I tell them that I deal with bouts of depression. They tend to cite my bubbly personality and my typically cheerful demeanor as the cause of their surprise. I get that.

But it just reminds me of that quote: Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. We see what is on the outside, but God sees the heart. We need to ask Him to help us see each other the way He sees us, so we can see those hard battles and help each other fight them.

Friends struggling with depression – don’t suffer in silence – alone. Reach out.

Jesus followers – try to understand the symptoms and consequences of depression so you can love others well.  The one suffering might tell you she’s fine – or to go away. She might reject invitations to dinner or events.  She might ignore your texts or show up smiling, acting as if life is perfect. Please, show up at her doorstep – be persistent – don’t take no for an answer.  Invest.  Help her seek help.

Praying for those today who suffer from mild and clinical depression. Regardless of where you are on the severity spectrum, you are loved by Him.  You’re worth it.

Much love,

Dear Revenge {Because We’d All Like to Get Even} {14 of 31 Days of Letters}

Dear Revenge,

I was inclined to seek you.  My nature – my flesh – wanted nothing more than to survey the past two years, make a list, and set you into motion. One Facebook post with names could correct so much.

It’s tempting to engage with you.  Tempting to list names and offenses.

Why?

Because it’s hard to hear the rumors and speculation about your life from those you thought loved you.  It’s hard to remain silent when you know truth.  It’s hard to see others happy at your expense.

Relationships.  Life. They’re hard. So, I thought I could clarify. Explain. Defend.  {Avenge.}

And a few times, I chose you, revenge.  I confronted and shared names.  In fact, at one time, you plagued my thoughts.  I’d sit and think of ways to use you best.  To make those who hurt me suffer too.  I had decided…the next time someone says, “How are you doing?” I plan to give an honest answer.  Isn’t honesty the best policy?  {Insert wrong motives and much ick here.}

I considered only including the inclusive and always excluding the exclusive.  I wanted them to know how it felt to be left out as they so easily ignored and rejected others.  How it felt to watch their chumminess with those who had hurt me so deeply.

Yet.

Nothing about those plans ever set right in my heart.  The minute I’d be ready to share or confront or post…nothing. I simply could not do it.  You’d be right on the tip of my tongue, revenge.  One well-placed truth, and I’d be even – and you knew it.

You knew how to keep me drowning in the “not fairs” and “what ifs.”

Still.  Day by day I vented to and processed with the few who knew, but remained silent among others.

I refused you, revenge.  Sometimes it was second by second, minute by minute.  {Sometimes it is still second by second, minute by minute.}

All times it was only by His grace that I never published the post or finished the sentence.  It was only by His grace on me that I smiled and remembered who I am – that I am His.  And it was only by His grace that I am forgiven for the times I slipped up and said too much or spewed hate.

It is only by His grace that I say to you, revenge:  you are not mine.  You are His.  He will employ you on my behalf someday.  I don’t need to hurl you in the direction of my enemies because He has already won the battle.

What others meant for evil, He can turn for good.

I am no longer a victim, preoccupied those who discarded me and pondering why.  Instead, I choose joy, knowing my exclusion is irrelevant because I am included in the best group of all:  God’s children.

I am His.  I am part of His kingdom, His chosen children.  The kindness and approval of others would be nice, but they’re not necessary.  Their apologies would be helpful to my heart, but they’re not essential to my forgiveness of them or His forgiveness of me.

I reject you, revenge, because I know who goes before me and I know who stands behind:  The God of angel armies.  I rest in knowing I am forgiven by His grace – a forgiveness and grace available to me and my worst enemies equally.

That’s the God I serve.  A loving and just God.

So, I walk away from you,  revenge, enveloped in the peace that comes from knowing Jesus is Lord.  Not you.  Not them. Not this world.

14 Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse. 15 Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. 16 Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.

17 Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everyone. 18 If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. 19 Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord. 20 On the contrary:  “If your enemy is hungry, feed him;   if he is thirsty, give him something to drink.  In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.”  21 Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good. Romans 12: 13-41

My motive – my heart – will be love, not appearances or “supposed to’s.”  I will see each “enemy” as an image bearer of Christ.  Living in harmony as far as it depends on me.  Overcoming evil with good.  Repaying no one for wrongs either real or perceived.

And, His grace will be sufficient – always.

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Friends,

Have you been wronged?  Excluded?  Made fun of?  Gossiped about?  Do people believe things about you that you know are not true?  Have you suffered at the hands of others – perhaps intentionally – perhaps unintentionally?

It hurts, huh?  I acknowledge your pain and the injustice.  I pray for your heart and healing.  But, I ask…and this is a VERY hard ask…would you begin to let it go?  {Speaking to myself here too.}  Your Creator will avenge each wrong on your behalf.  He promises.

Your Savior knows much about being “wronged”  and blamed for things He did not do.  In fact, He’s an expert.  So, we can learn how to react by following his example:

When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats.  Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.  “He himself bore our sins in his body on the cross, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed. 1 Peter 2: 23-24

Let’s imitate Him. (1 Corinthians 1:11).

Much love,

Dear Porn {from a Wife and Friend} {11 of 31 Days of Letters}

from a my good friend…

Attached is my letter to Porn. I write this letter as a wife. A wife who has seen her husband work to be free from a lifetime of this junk, after being molested by a close family member for years. I write this as a formerly promiscuous gal who was groomed to believe that porn was her instruction manual, both for how she should look and for how she should act in order to become what men want. 

I write this as a woman who has seen victory happen from both of these perspectives, but only because of Jesus and His word. As a wife I have had to fix my eyes on Jesus and know that He will take care of me in those moments when the enemy is speaking lies, telling me that if I were just more [fill-in-the-blank], my husband wouldn’t have this problem. 

My husband had to turn completely to Jesus and ask Him to go back to the root of this addiction and rip it out, then continually surrender himself every single moment when the sin tries to come back at him. That promiscuous girl in me had to ask Jesus what really made her think that was okay or expected and… Trust Him to redefine her worth every day. 

So, although I wanted to be hateful and spew quite a few choice words to this perversion, I decided to take a tone of putting porn in its place. Although it seems as though its getting more rampant by the moment sometimes, there are also big movements starting that are anti-porn and the messages it spouts. One of them is fightthenewdrug.org, which seeks to educate how porn actually acts like cocaine or heroine in your brain and rewires things in a real bad way. Just one example of the way people are starting to view porn differently – thank God!
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Dear Porn,

I am sure you’ve probably already noticed this, but we are on to you.

For all these years now, you’ve been in the dark, hidden behind closed doors and in seedy little shops dotted across those parts of town. You’ve been difficult to access, shrouded in shame. Your acquaintances have always had to dodge in and out of the shadows to meet up with you and make do with your company in secret.

But times, they have changed.

Now you are everywhere. Literally everywhere. You boast about how you don’t have to wait for anyone to come to you… you can be wirelessly delivered right to us on an invisible cloud. You relish the billions of dollars you rake in, and you love how seemingly normal you’ve become in our world. Millions of us have bought into your lies and images, becoming more and more lewd by the gigabyte.

And yeah, we know… you’ve always been all “don’t be a prude” and “it’s my right” and “freedom of speech” and such. What a joke. Everything about you is fake except the extent of the damage you cause.

You are every bit the opposite of freedom.  You’re straight-up slavery, exploitation, and lack of options for the ones you claim to employ. With one hand, you wreck and ruin your “stars” by coercing them into a life of degradation, cruelty, drugs, and disease.

On the other side of your business, you’re all about misplacing desires. You slowly kill hearts by enticing eyes. You laugh at how so many log on to exchange intimacy for something instant, real connection for the commotion of false variety. One lingering look can quickly spread and infect an entire family, city, nation, and generation.

But like we said, times have changed.

We are onto you.

We are learning more and more all the time about your harmful effects. We know about the connection you share with your cousins: rape, domestic violence, child abuse, sex trafficking, and the like. [I'd add adultery.]

What? You didn’t think we would catch on to the fact that you change the way our brain thinks? You really thought we wouldn’t notice that people are heading to counseling in droves because of the damage you’ve caused?

You didn’t think our husbands, sons, fathers, and brothers would get to a breaking point? You never imagined our wives, daughters, mothers, and sisters had a threshold?

I see. It never dawned on you that people would start bringing you out into the light. Talking about you. Exchanging “aha” moments when they realized they’d also been a victim of your drug in their veins.

The light bulbs are going on, and folks are tired of being lied to.

We want our minds back. We want trust back. We want intimacy back. We want reality back.

And we know you can’t help us with any of that, because you stole those very things from every single one of us who has ever wasted a second on you.

But there is One who can help us get those seconds back. With His name, we can forget yours. By renewing our minds with His words, we can lose the fake scripts that sludge through the depths of our minds. He enables us to take every thought captive and give it to Him so we can override the images that once polluted our memories.

His name is Jesus. And with Him, on a daily basis, we can fight off the likes of you… the predators who seek to steal, kill, and destroy every good thing in our lives.

Porn, you are not without consequence in any way, shape, or form. But you are limited. Because the One who is in us is greater than any one who is in this world, including you.

We are onto you, and we are guarding our hearts by turning our eyes away from you and fixing them on Jesus.

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Friends,

After sharing the first letter to pornography, those of you struggling with this evil emerged (literally) from the woodwork…a few examples…

A friend who works in psychology at a college gave me insight into how viewing porn affects/rewires your brain.  She told me of the many girls and boys on college campuses that are addicted and a new task force at her college to help them (and it’s a CHRISTIAN college, friends.)

Another friend sent the letter above, telling me she’d already begun her letter to porn before I shared the first one.

Let’s face it:  porn is easily accessible to young children or ANYONE. Seems every kid above age 10 has a phone with data – one innocent search away from seeing something he or she should not see.  I know you don’t think it will happen to your kids, but I am begging you to consider the friends who might show them and the accidents that could happen when searching and set the parental controls on their phones.  There also apps you can install to PROTECT them.

Some resources:  (in addition to the regular filters on EVERY phone, computer, and tablet)

And, parent, aunt, uncle – if YOU are the one struggling with this addiction, seek help.  It’s real and it’s destructive.

Praying for our world today and the evil that can so easily permeate our hearts.  I, for one, feel the church can NOT sit by and say nothing.  I am not advocating a picket line or Facebook campaign, for the world is already very clear on what we are against. Instead, I am advocating loving those who need help, embracing them when they confess and walking alongside them as image bearers of our Creator.

Much love,

Dear Pornography {from a Young Lady} {10 of 31 Days of Letters)

Rarely do I open my messages with a gasp.  An audible, hand-over-mouth gasp.  This message came to Making Much of Him 365 on Facebook recently (edited for privacy)…

I have been reading the letters you have been posting on your blog and decided to write one of my own to a struggle that I have been dealing with for some time.  Other than a therapist (and someone close to me), you are the only other person I have told.  Tonight is it for me though.  I am making a HUGE effort from now on to kick this in the butt.  God is good even through the struggles.  

I glance down the page to the letter’s title, wondering what issue this young lady could be struggling with.  And I am shocked.  My chest tightens and every, single stereotype I had went flying.

Dear Pornography.  

This young lady – age 19 – a gal that had been in my small group and part of my group at a youth retreat – a church girl – had been struggling with pornography since age 6.  Yes, 6.  And no one knew…knows.

I admit…I thought porn was the struggle for teen boys and older men, not girls and women.  So, I did a little research. And, friend, PLEASE listen.  It can happen to your daughter (or son or wife or husband or friend).  In this age of phones and tablets and computers, porn is readily available to anyone.  Please do NOT say “this would never happen to my daughter.”

Because it CAN.

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Dear Pornography,

You’ve changed my world. You’ve ruined my brain. But more importantly, you’ve ruined the lives of so many men, women, boys, and girls around the world.

You are evil.

What was supposed to be something to be cherished and treasured between a husband and wife has become maimed and twisted into utter evil.

My brother got hooked on you, and because of you, he tried to sleep with me. I was 6 years old. Now, 13 years later, you still haunt me. You still control my brain. I often manage to avoid  you for a few months, but always- somehow- you become present again.

I’ve tried time and time again to get rid of you for good. I have cried out to God, completely willing to put you down, placing you behind me.

Why do you keep coming back?

I never thought that walking in on my brother while he viewed lusty images would leave me this broken. As a curious 6-year-old, I unknowingly handed my mind and my body over to you – something that I can’t and have not been able to control.

I wish I had never met you. I wish I could take it back now. I wish that someone would have protected my brother – protected me – from you. The images, the memories, the pain – it’s all branded on to my brain and will be for the rest of my life.

I wish I could say you’re in the past. That God has healed me completely of viewing you. That I don’t remember anything about you; that there is no evidence of you in my head or heart; that I have 100% control over myself and where my mind takes me. But truth is, I don’t.

I don’t have my crap together.  I don’t have the power in me to completely get rid of every sin in my life, especially you.  I am broken. I am hurt.

I am human.

God knows my heart. God hears my prayers.

Someone might ask, “If God hears my prayers, then why has He not taken this burden from me? Why hasn’t He given me new memories and destroyed the old? Where is the rescue? Where is He now?”  I’ve asked myself these questions many times. And here’s the truth…

God created this world. He created man to live with Him, to be perfect with Him. But, we are human. We gave into temptation. We fell to sin. WE ALL FALL TO SIN.  God sees our suffering. He saw it then and He sees it now. He knows our hearts, our desires, our temptations, our guilt. So He sent Jesus.

Perfect. Breathtaking. Beautiful. Jesus.

The only perfect thing to come to our world. So perfect, in fact, that He is the only one who can save us. He KNEW the liars, the failures, the scum, the bad, the ugly, the hurt, the suffering, the one in need, the one without earthly need, the one who was happy, the sad, the sinful.

I have learned that I CANNOT carry all of my burden myself. My friends cannot carry my burden. My parents cannot carry my burden. Therapists, teachers, mentors, etc. No one is perfect enough, or strong enough, to carry my burden.

Except Jesus….

You see, the beauty in my hurt and the perfection in my story is Christ. Because though He could have chosen to go to the better people first, He came to me. Straight to me, and picked me up. Though I grow faint and get weak, He is strong. Every time I fail. He is there. When I sin. He takes that sin and casts it as far as the East is from the West.

He makes me new, time and time again.

And though I don’t deserve it, by His grace I am new. I am strong. And I am getting back up, one more time, to kick you in the butt, porn. I hope that tonight was the last time I ever give in to you, but I know that if it is not, I can look forward to the day that Jesus picks me up one last time and takes me home with Him where I cannot sin any more.

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She’s right.  He is the ONLY way to freedom. (Galatians 3:22; John 8:36; 2 Corinthians 3:17; Psalm 118:5).  The One who is strong when we are weak (2 Corinthians 12:9-10).  The only One who is making all things new (2 Corinthians 5:17). Willpower only works for a season.  “Want to” ends when our hearts and heads become clouded with desires.

But, Jesus never leaves us.  Never forsakes us.

What sin is holding you prisoner?  Will you write a letter to it, expressing your hate and surrendering it to Jesus? He wants to hear your heart. He desires to help you and work all things together for his glory.

So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Isaiah 41:10

Much Love,

To the Pro-Life Christian {Be Kind} {9 of 31 Days of Letters}

Yesterday, I shared a friend’s letter to her daughter – the daughter she aborted at age 16 after being raped.  The same friend wrote today’s letter.  I’d ask you to read To My Aborted Daughter before reading today. My heart – her heart – is understanding and grace.  Loving others.  Join us as we grow in grace together.

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Dear Pro-Life Christian,

I am not writing this to combat your convictions, but would you take a minute to look at the woman behind the story.

This is not about arguing the sanctity of life or when the fetus becomes a baby.  It is about stopping for a moment to consider the hurt in a woman’s heart that would bring her to such a choice.   This is never an easy or simple decision.  There is never a win-win choice.

Hurts, deep bleeding wounds cloud the choice to walk into a clinic.

Right now, there is an article floating around about a rape victim who chose to keep and raise her child.  I praise her courage and strength to speak out in a culture of secrets. However, would you take a moment and consider how your comments may cause another wound for a different rape victim who made a different choice?

Unintentionally, you praise one and condemn the other.

She cannot undo her decision to kill her child, but she now must live with two gaping wounds instead of one.  Please consider how your words may act as salt instead of  healing balm.

When these articles flood our newsfeed, great condemnation washes over us when we nonchalantly scroll through the daily postings.  In one simple moment of browsing, I find myself drowning in shame and guilt all over again.

I have to choose to fight for breath. Choose to reclaim the Truth.  Choose to live in grace.  Choose to grieve a stolen life all over again.

I know this is not your intention when sharing your convictions or posting article; however, consider us as you post article after article on your Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram about the great sin of abortion.   Please stop and consider 33% of women within their child-bearing years have had an abortion. That could possibly mean that out of your 150 female friends on Facebook, 49 may be suffering in silence – drowning in their own shame.

These are your grandmothers, mothers, aunts, sisters, daughters, and friends.  We have a name and a story, a deep wound.  Most of us know what we did was wrong; we live with our grief daily.

We want to fight for the unborn babies too, but would you consider a different way?  Would you be open to trying another platform? How about serving at a local crisis pregnancy center or doing a walk for life?

We want you to be passionate.  We need you to stand up for those babies, but we need you to stand up AND be sensitive to us lost and hurting women.

Women like me.  Will you consider me?

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Most of us have “triggers” – those posts we read on social media or those stories we hear in church or on TV that make us cringe.  When I see posts or hear messages about marriage I cringe – as that superficial, surface, “laugh your way to a better marriage” advice didn’t “work” for me.

When it comes to triggers, I’ve had some tell me – get over it.  Be free from it, so there is no trigger.  I understand the heart behind such advice, but those walking through hard might not be there yet – and might not be for years.  (See To Healing)

So, when we decide to debate on social media, let’s be kind, loving one another.  Let’s be sensitive and give grace.  Let’s listen and understand.

Above all, let’s pray for those who live with such difficulty.  We serve a God of love and grace who meets each of us just where we are, so let’s strive to meet others just where they are with open arms.

{And if you’re a staunch supporter of any movement – Pro-Life Christians included – who already choose kindness and grace, thank you.  Truly, you’re making a difference simply by handling your convictions with humility and love. }

But he gives us more grace. That is why Scripture says: “God opposes the proud, but shows favor to the humble.” James 4:6

Much Love,

To My Aborted Daughter {I Am Sorry} {Day 8 of 31 Days of Letters}

During a mission trip to Honduras in 2012, I met a girl who must remain nameless.  We prayed together, worshiped together, and shared stories together. She shared her drug addiction with our group, including noticeable scarring on her arms.  She was now drug free, working to free others from the same addiction.

I never lost touch with her.  Her deep faith and abiding love for her Creator taught me much, and we’ve continued our friendship across the miles.

When I began 31 days of letters, some of you decided to join me.  You recognized your need to heal by writing to the “thing” that hurts or hinders  - or even helps.  This friend joined me, and she’s been writing almost daily – and only I have had the honor and privilege of reading her letters.

After much prayer, she wants you to read too.  Why?  Because she has this hope:  What man meant for evil, God will use for good. You are only as sick as your secrets. So. Trying to be as healthy as I can as I teach and lead the next generation of church leaders. Maybe they won’t wound from the pulpit. [or the pew]

We share because we love Him and you.  And we want you to see Him at work, giving all glory to Him for our stories and for his redemption.

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I want to warn you…this letter – tomorrow’s letter – both are hard.  I pray you open your hearts before you read.  Here’s the back story to today’s letter…

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I was raped when I was 16 and got pregnant. I had an abortion without telling anyone. About four years ago God revealed to me that it was a girl, and He had named her Hope.  I didn’t handle that revelation very well. BUT. Through much counseling, prayer, and much prompting to write a letter,  I finally did. God promised me my daughter would bring Hope to the nations, and that can not be fulfilled if I keep her a secret.  So, this letter begins the process, and I am telling my loved ones as God prompts.

This is my letter to my aborted daughter.

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Dear Hope,

God introduced you to me a couple of years ago, and I am sorry it has taken me this long to acknowledge you.  I was scared.  It was hard, and I was hurting.  When I was young I learned some poor coping skills that led to addictions, and I tend to fall back on those when I feel scared and hurt.  So, I ignored you – pushed the pain of your existence deeper and deeper. It was self-protection. I did not want to relapse into addiction.  But here I am, and I am trying, fighting.

I want to say to you…

I am sorry.

I was confused, hurting, and angry.  I did not know what else to do.  Those helping me make this decision did not help me make a good one.  They told me it would not hurt, and it would all be over after the procedure.  I would be free of it.  Of you.

They lied.  I will always carry you with me.

I don’t have all of the answers.  I don’t know why you have the earthly father that you do. But God told me He is taking care of you, and I trust Him to do that.  Know that even though I failed you, you can always count on Him to love and protect you.

I am sorry.

Sometimes I think about you, especially around the time I think would have been your birthday.  I think about how much you have probably grown.  I wonder if you would have had freckles like me or red hair.  I have always wanted a red-haired little girl, so I am thankful that God introduced me to you.  But, it makes me miss you a lot, which I know is strange to say when I never actually met you.   Still,  I know even for that short time you were a part of me.

It makes me sad that I won’t get to see you grow up or watch you play with my sisters;  you would love them.  They are so goofy. But, I am glad you have had a chance to meet my grandma in heaven.   Have her sing the apple tree song to you – that one was my favorite growing up.

I wonder sometimes about the things you would like or how you would laugh or cry.  I am thankful sometimes you do not have to live in this scary, painful world.  People can be very mean.

Sometimes I miss you so much I think my heart is going to explode.  I wonder if you watch me, if you see what I am doing now, and if you are proud of me.  I hope so. I am trying really hard to be faithful, do good, and stay sober.  I hope you can see that.

I am excited to meet you one day, and hopefully, you will have siblings to meet too. But until then, can I ask you something?

Will you forgive me for not protecting you?  For not asking the nurses and doctors the right questions. For not being brave enough to tell someone about you before it was too late.  It doesn’t mean I don’t love you; it means I was too scared to know different.  Will you forgive me? I hope.  I promise you I will do my best to keep trying to forgive myself.

Love you,

Mom

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Do you have something living deep inside for which you feel shame?  You don’t expect others to forgive you because you can’t even forgive yourself.  I pray you take a step toward healing by writing a letter to it.  You can rip it up immediately, or share it on Facebook – that part isn’t important.  Healing, forgiving, and grace – those are important.

Please pray for my friend as she shares her story with her family and friends.  It is the beginning of a hard journey she’s willing to take for His glory.

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. 2 Corinthians 12:9

Much Love,

to Change {Because It’s Unavoidable} {6 of 31 Days of Letters)

Dear Change,

You’re inevitable.  Unavoidable.

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Just when I settle in, thinking I have life figured out – a system established, a routine created – you swoop in and shake me.

A job I’ll never leave…

A marriage forever and always…

A forever house beautifully decorated…

A church I will never leave…

Friends who will always walk alongside me…

Sixty pounds of lost excess weight…

Jobs change; marriages fail; houses sell; churches change; friends ignore; and weight returns.

Nothing in this world is sure and certain.

I used to hate you, feeling you continually striped me of people and things I love.  Navigating your effects is tiring:  A demanding job, a divorce label, a smaller home, a new church {new people}, different friends, a greater weight (again).

And in my tiredness, I’ve allowed you to turn ugly, wondering……Why embrace this job?  Why decorate the new house?  Why go on a diet?  Why try a new church?  Why make new friends?  Why? When you are inevitable, why begin again and risk you’re coming – again? 

Why get comfortable when I know – you’re lurking in next week and next year.

And as my thoughts spiral down, disliking and resenting you, I suddently stop.

My view of you?  The one that looks upon you with ill will and anger?  It’s wrong.

Change, you don’t have to be called evil, sad, and heartbreaking.

I can rename you kindness, gift, and hope.  Because you’re not taking my life – you are making my life.  Creating in me a heart that looks less like this world and more like my Creator.

Do not misunderstand – you’re hard.  You hurt.  But I am choosing a different opinion of your painfulness, deciding to see you as the refining fire through which we each go on our way to becoming more and more like Jesus.

My job?  It’s not a burden but a gift that pays my bills and allows my schedule to mesh with the schedule of my sweet middle and high schooler.

My divorce?  It’s allowing me to be me.  To discover who I am and parent my children as my God guides me. To grow and serve in new ways.

My house?  It’s a duplex – smaller – but with less and less stuff to clutter our lives and hearts.  It causes us to spend more and more time together as we have less space to scatter (loves grows best in little houses;)

My church?  It was long past my leaving the old and finding a new. The depth of hurt I’d experienced in the old should have been dealt with long ago.  I never should have stayed beyond 2007 when lies were told and cover ups occurred, yet I did.  So any remaining shrapnel flying in my heart came from my decisions, not theirs. After an almost year away from “church” in the traditional sense, I now venture back to a new body, knowing they will love my family well.

My friends?  Sometimes it’s best they change.  While I never consider people disposable, I know when moving on and setting boundaries are wise and healthy.  My current friends are beyond amazing.  The friends I will make – gifts too.  I’ve come to understand I can learn from each person who crosses my path, so I open my heart to their lessons.

My weight?  It’s been lost and gained more times than I can count.  But, the thought of embarking on you, change, is encouraging, hopeful.  Less of a mountain to climb and more of a path to walk this time.

So, change, you’re not so bad after all.

Best of all, you might come and go, but there is One you can’t affect. One is unchanging…

My Savior.

He’s there day after day  – teaching me – waiting on me when I turn away – walking alongside me as I move forward in Him.  And His word is FULL of good news about you, change – just so you know.  He promises…

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ!In his great mercyhe has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s poweruntil the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealedin the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials.These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls. 1 Peter 1: 3-9

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Are you in the midst of change?  Do you feel as if the change is defining your life?  Write a letter to change telling it that it’s not in control; God is.  A wise woman shared with me over the weekend that circumstances are not sovereign – God is.  Rest there. If you’d like to share your change or ask us to pray for your transition, we’d love to hear from you.

Much Love,

To the Girl Who Hated Me in School {2 of 31 Days of Letters)

Dear Girl Who Hated Me in School,

When your name popped up in Facebook Messenger, I didn’t recognize it because you have a different last name.  Within a few lines I read:  This is the former {name here}.  And I thought to myself…

I did not get along with her.  She was mean to me, and I avoided her.  {Or that’s how my young eyes saw it.} But, I’d honestly not thought of you in 20 years.  I had no idea how you’d thought of me.

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Facebook suggested you send me a friend request, but instead you looked at my profile and thought…. Why is the person who I felt was incredibly mean to me my entire school career doing so well? How did she end up with beautiful children, a handsome husband, a nice home…

Oh, the life we present on Facebook.  You saw my smiling kids and my attempts at loving my husband well, but you weren’t at my house where life wasn’t as it seemed.  I didn’t lie on Facebook; I simply posted my highlight reel because no one wanted to see or seemed to care about the rest – and I was too ashamed to reveal it anyway.

And here our stories meet.  Just as I tried and prayed for a reconciled marriage – and felt God didn’t “come through”  - you tried and prayed for things that never came to pass.  You said….

I was so angry.  Angry at people I had wanted to love and to love me back, angry at God, angry at life.

Me too.

These words from you brought a measure of healing to my heart, knowing my feelings weren’t completely foreign to others.  Because of your words, I finally accepted that those feelings of anger I had felt – at those who failed me, at myself, at God, and at life – were OK.

But your next words were life changers for me:

Blame.  Anger.  Jealousy.  Resentment.  Life’s emotional cancers.

For the first time, I noticed all the blame, anger, jealousy, and resentment floating in my heart and head.  And these feelings are just that:  Cancer.   Your honest words made me look hard at my life – my person – who I am and how I represent myself.

You felt {at first} I shouldn’t be sharing Jesus – after all, how can someone so mean share and love Jesus?  I have often wondered the same as I’ve been hurt by pastors on a weekday only to listen to them on Sunday.  Doesn’t seem like Jesus, huh?

Except we are all human and fall short of His glory every, single day.

So, my heart wants to say two things to you:  I am sorry and I am grateful you humbled yourself and messaged me.  Beyond grateful.

I am sorry you perceived me as mean in school.  I never saw myself that way, but perhaps I was.  I had no idea what your life was really like, and knowing I overlooked you breaks my heart.  It’s not who I am. Any “advice” I give about Jesus is only sharing what He’s teaching me in an attempt to bring others to him – closer and closer – because I love Him so much.

I am grateful you taught me about forgiveness, humility, and reconciliation.  And your heartfelt sadness over my divorce speaks clearly of who you are.  I am sorry I failed to know that girl in school.

I am praying for you, as I know you pray for me.  And I thank you for continuing to read my words {even when you still hated me}, finding bits and pieces of a Jesus who died for you and for me.  A Jesus who can take ANYTHING – even mean girls – and make it new.  A Jesus that can take 20-year-old hurt and shine a light upon it, reconciling two people, teaching them forgiveness.

That’s the Jesus we follow, friend.  You keep on keeping on, being obedient and loving Him.  I am honored to know you.

Love, Sarah

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Friends…

Is there someone in your past with whom you need to reconcile?  Maybe they’ve already passed from this world, but you need to write to them, telling them how they hurt you and how you have forgiven them- because that’s what this is really all about.  When this gal messaged me, it was to tell me that she forgives.  Forgives me, other mean kids, those in her life who wronged her.  She shared with me that “God didn’t take away all her troubles”  – instead he changed her heart.

That’s what He does, friend.  He changes our hearts.  He frees us.

I pray you write that letter today.  Get it off your chest.  Kick and scream and yell and let the anger fly…but then…forgive.

Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you.  Colossians 3: 13

Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you.  Ephesians 4: 31-32

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To Healing {Because It Knows No Timetable} {Day 1 of 31 Days of Letters}

Dear Healing,

Since the first disruption of my marriage in 2007  - closely followed by my dad’s death in early 2008 –  we’ve played hide and seek.  I’ve hidden from you in anger and bitterness – and sought you in surrender and longing.

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I thought you’d be quicker.  I know you’re a process, but I’d think a few months {or years} would be enough.  Now, I am realizing that you can’t be boxed in.  You might come in three months, or it might take you three years – or longer.

You’re indefinable, unquantifiable.  And that causes anger and frustration in my heart.

I want ten steps to wholeness.  Ten steps to get over it and resume life as if nothing ever happened.  But, the truth is …no such list exists.  There’s no stamp with your name that can be smacked on each of us, letting others know….

You know that divorce I went through?  You know that loss I experienced?  You know that addiction I struggle with?  It’s over.  Done.  Affecting me no more.

I want to be able to say…

I am whole again, so you can stop filing me under “broken” in your brain as if I can’t function until I have “healed” {after all, we are all broken}.

Sure, there are steps to take and forward progress to be made – that’s part of you, healing.  But the date-stamped ending is elusive.  I look at others and think…well, they got through that unscathed and have moved on quite nicely.  And while I know I am moving on and pressing in and praying, my wholeness seems unreachable.

I hate it when I think I am done with you, and I hear someone discussing a certain topic or see the one who caused my hurt, and there I am again – if only for a day – wounds gaping.

How can this be?

I have been moving forward one step and decision at a time – one choice to live joyful and grateful at a time.

And above all,  I know your boss:  the Healer.

The one who took it all upon his shoulders, dying on my behalf.  I find you in Jesus.  I find you after admitting and surrendering my brokenness to Him.

Only the Healer can work to make me new.  To soothe old wounds and walk alongside me, creating new life.  To weaken reactions uprooted by seeing a person, hearing a story, or passing a place.  To live authentically without the pretense  – without trying to be someone I am not.

I am not sure I’ll be done with you this side of heaven, healing, but I will continue seeking my Healer because His wounds eliminate you. His wounds stamp you:  Done. Finished.  His wounds win.  And, there I rest as I walk alongside you another day. That you won’t be my companion forever because I know…it is finished.

Surely he took up our pain and bore our suffering, yet we considered him punished by God, stricken by him, and afflicted.  But he was pierced for our transgressions,he was crushed for our iniquities;the punishment that brought us peace was on him,and by his wounds,  we are healed.  We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all. Isaiah 53: 4-6

Friend, what might you say to healing?  Hurry up?  I don’t care?  Or, maybe… let’s begin.  Perhaps you’ve not even sought the Healer or the process of healing because you’re too mad and bitter.   Somewhere {deep inside} your gaping wounds and deep sorrow are comfortable, for they’ve been your companion for a while, justifying your behavior, your anger, your unforgiveness.  Your woundedness gives you a free pass to a pity party that may be well-deserved. But, please, it’s not where you want to remain.  There IS joy and freedom in this life.  There IS no story too big or hard for Jesus.

I pray you’ll write to healing, introducing yourself – and to the Healer, asking Him:  Where do I begin?

I’d also so love for you to share with us what you need to say to healing.

Much love,

31 Days of Letters {To Divorce, Shame, Fat, and Much More}

For the past few years I’ve participated in the Nester’s 31 days.  Each time I’ve set a goal:  Less Me, More Jesus or More of the Gospel.  Some direction to face with renewed hope and purpose.

However, this year, I am writing 31 letters  {OK, I might not make it to 31, but it’s a worthy goal.}  I am writing letters to divorce and unkindness.  To fat and food addiction.  To my dad and to a friend.  To shame and injustice.  I also have a few friends who are joining me with letters of their own, so this should be a cathartic sharing of both hurt and happy hearts.

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Why letters?  Because when {for example}I get mad about divorce, I can’t really walk up to it and say…you suck, divorce.  I can’t touch it or talk to it. But, it’s time to tell it what I really think.  It’s time to explain to divorce how much it hurts me and my kiddos.  How much it hurts families and friendships – and churches.

It’s time to tell fat what it’s like to live with its company.  To tell my dad that I still miss him.  To tell shame that she has no place in my heart or head.  To tell unkindness that there’s no room for it in my life.

My prayer is that in each letter – each sharing of my heart toward a topic, there will be healing for you and for me.  And, you will see and I will be reminded of the hope that we have Him  – firm and secure – for He is the conqueror of all including shame, divorce, hurt, and loss.

He is the same yesterday and today and forever.

Through all struggle and doubt and fear and joy – He is unchanging.

If you’d like to get some stuff off of your chest by writing it a letter, I would LOVE to hear from you and read or share your letter.  Let’s just get it all out!  Chances are good that someone else needs to read it too!

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Late this afternoon I had a very good friend call me and ask me to bring her daughters home as she rushed to the bedside of a loved one who didn’t make it.  A very tragic death.

So, perhaps I’ll write to death, lamenting the unfairness of today.  The unfairness of tragedy.  The burden of so much suffering upon one person’s shoulders.  I’ll admit that death ultimately has no sting for those who love Jesus, but in this moment, it’s stinging.  It’s cutting deep.  It’s almost too much to bear.

I might ask death why nowWhy him?  I might tell death that those left in his wake hurt deeply.  Still…I would end with the hope of heaven.  The hope of a life beyond this one where death is defeated and pain is no more.

In the meantime, can you join me in praying for my friend and her family?  They need held.  Thanks, friends.