Everything Uphill

/ Sue Birdseye / 7 Comments

I just got off the phone. I was praying with a friend about this life that is feeling very hard. She is such a dear friend. She knows the life I’ve lived for the past ever so many years and she prayed, “Lord, it just seems like everything is an uphill battle.”  

And I felt that…deeply.

There is always something. Always. Honestly, no exaggeration. I don’t recall any time when things have been quiet and calm and lovely for more than a minute…maybe five. 

But I have decided (yet again) to take a minute and consider and ask and wonder if I’m really trusting God in these circumstances…am I just worrying and fretting instead of praying with faith so that His blessed peace that passes understanding can cascade down on me and my children? 

Well, I can be brutally honest and say…I’ve been praying fervently…prayers of anger, frustration, and questions. I’m like the psalmists who lament the state of things, ask God hard questions, and wonder if He even cares a bit about this situation or the last one or the one before that…I haven’t gotten (until now) to the latter part of the psalms when the psalmists say, “Yet, I will trust God.” 

Uphill is hard, particularly when you are already worn out and weary. A lot of people in my life are tired too. We are all trudging along with our heads down, trying to weather the storm without falling into the mud and slipping down the side of the hill we’ve been climbing.

What I’m remembering (again) is that I’m not alone. Jesus is right beside me. Sometimes He is pushing me, sometimes pulling, sometimes His arm is around me encouraging me, whispering encouragements into my ear, sometimes He is crying beside me, and sometimes He is laughing…I can be funny even in my struggles. (Who doesn’t like a good sarcastic comment?)

It seems like it’s been years of me reminding myself that focusing on my circumstances will always (always) overwhelm me. If I could just keep my eyes on Jesus, things wouldn’t seem so difficult. At least I’d have peace in the middle of it all. 

One of my sons and I talked last night, and he shared how doing hard things by choice was easier than having no choice. He is doing those polar plunges regularly. He’s trying to convince me to join him because he sees so many benefits. Sounds amazing…the benefits, not the plunging.  But I thought about what he shared…I guess, in a sense, he feels empowered to face the mountains because it is his choice to climb them. I have a choice too. I can climb, or I can complain and climb. Either way, I’m climbing. 

Right now, the climb is because of something that both breaks my heart and infuriates me (almost equally). And, I’m baffled by the whole thing. I’m appalled. I’m angry. I’m feeling rather hopeless. I want to grab my children and run away. Honestly, being Christlike isn’t seeming to work well. Believe me, I’ve been trying. BUT I know that God is in control of even this mess. I’m waiting for Him to be the Hero of this situation. We haven’t seen it yet…but I know that He has it well in hand. He is not surprised. He is as hurt by the unkindness toward my children as I am. I am sure He is as angry and heartbroken as I am too. They are His daughters too. 

Please do not get me wrong, I have seen God work in this situation. I have seen Him do some things in my family that are truly beautiful as we walk through this trial together, but I’m also seeing all of us feeling helpless and angry and ready to fight. This climb is going to require us to truly focus on Christ, not our circumstances…to believe that He is in control when everything is so very unfair and awful…to believe that there is a plan in this that is good…to trust that God will bring beauty and blessing from all of this awfulness. 

So even though I’m beyond weary (once again), I’m choosing to climb with a heart sold out for God, my eyes fixed on Jesus, and my ears attuned to the Holy Spirit. This path is the one God has chosen for me…I don’t want to get off of it, no matter how hard it is. I want to walk with Him…even when everything is uphill. 

Life on the Stump

/ Sue Birdseye / 2 Comments

There once was a glorious old oak tree that, for years, we affectionately called “Grandpa’s Tree”. It stood on a bit of a hill overlooking the river. In its prime, this mighty oak provided peaceful shade and a quiet place to read a great mystery, ponder life and love, and offer heartfelt prayers to God. 

A few years ago, this gorgeous hunk of tree was struck by lightning and subsequently cut down to a stump. It sits where a beautiful tree once stood.

It’s a bit uneven and rough around the edges but big enough for a few people to rest comfortably, think deeply, and whisper secrets. It’s a peaceful place to enjoy the soft lapping of the river and the sun gently setting in all its glorious pink and yellow hues. The occasional sound of laughing children looking for the most engaging rock to toss into the river float up. And the giggling teenagers leaning on the hoods of their cars taking selfies is not an unfamiliar sound. Sometimes, whispered prayers are interrupted by the slap of nets tossed with abandon into the water in the hope of catching one fish or ten.

It is all glorious life lived around the stump of what I thought was a dear dead tree.

Recently, when I was sharing my thoughts about this blog with a friend, she said it reminded her of a line in Monty Python’s The Holy Grail. During the time of the plague, a man who looks rather sickly is being picked up and thrown into the cart carrying all the dead out of the city. He hollers, “I’m not dead yet!’ It’s definitely a weird connection, but it made me laugh because it is kind of true. It’s as if that stump has determined that death is not an option. 

This stump has been a featured subject of many of my river pictures. There is something about it that draws me in. Maybe some of that drawing in is because it reminds me of my dad. But I think a larger part of it is that I identify with the tree that once was and the stump that now is.

Like that stump, I once was quite different. Like the tree that came before, I used to have a very different role. And like that stump now, I refuse to give up. 

I took a picture of the stump yesterday and sent it to a friend who responded, “Love the picture of the stump that does not quit. Looks like God has not given up on it!” 

It’s one of those kinds of texts that just breaks your heart wide open in the best possible way. 

Yes! I might think that stump is just the remains of an old dead tree, but God says, “Yeah, but I can do this thing!’ 

He sure can!  After all, who is known for bringing beauty from ashes, joy from sorrow, morning from night, something from nothing, and life from death?

Where I see death and even hopelessness, God sees life and hope!

Today, that big beautiful stump almost looks like it’s decorated for Christmas with one of those mantle-piece floral arrangements. Growing off the side, there are green and red leaves flourishing in opposition to lightning that caused the seeming death of a tree.

Lightning can strike and change the whole nature of a thing in an instant, just like life. Golly, haven’t we all had those things that just knock us to our knees? One moment, things are one way, and then all of a sudden, things are completely different. Not just our circumstances but who we are.

When life changed, God refined my character, purpose, and calling…just like that stump.

I was recently speaking with a friend about all the never-ending challenges and how weariness is a real thing…and yet, I have to honestly say that I like who I’ve become on this journey of single parenting. It’s been fifteen years of a lot. Just a lot of things I could have done without. But also a lot of things I wouldn’t trade for the world…or even a husband. 

Things like precious time with one, a few, or all of my children…joyous celebrations, late-night deep conversations, sweet unexpected texts, check-in phone calls, game nights, movie nights, hikes, and 3-on-3 bball games, verbal wrestling matches (because, well, teenagers), gut aching laughter, and even gut-wrenching tears. 

And I’ve learned things about God that have changed my life:

I’ve certainly had moments I’d have liked to give up, but I’ve learned that God will never give up on me or leave me. 

“When you pass through the water, I will be with you..”

I definitely have felt defeated and overwhelmed, but God just won’t let go of me.

“And when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.”

There have been days when the sorrow, grief, anger, and shame felt like they would just about kill me, yet God continues to shower his love, grace, and forgiveness over me with abundance.

“When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”

Isaiah 43:2

There is no guarantee that things are going to get easier, but there is still life to live, and, oh, there is still hope! 

Like that stump with its beautiful new life sprouting up, I know God will bring new life out of all the remains of what once was and what still is. 

I do not have to fear the future… I don’t even need to fear another lightning strike (although I’d certainly like to avoid one). God is good. I am sure of it. 

I looked up Isaiah 61, and, oh my goodness, just wow!

The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me because the LORD has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor, and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn, and provide for those who grieve in Zion – to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes and oil of joy instead of mourning and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. They will be called oaks of righteousness, a planting of the LORD for the display of his splendor. They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations.” Isaiah 61: 1-3

It’s right there! That beautiful oak tree that became a stump because of the tragedy it endured! God does indeed bring beauty from ashes…those sprouts of new growth are as magnificent as that glorious old oak was. God’s creation, no matter how much it has been through, shows His glory and splendor. 

The same is true of me. My life is a testimony to God’s faithfulness, even in the storm, even when lightning strikes, and even when trouble comes. God remains by my side, somehow making something lovely from the mess, always ensuring I know He loves me…and that is absolutely true beauty. 

That stump has become even more precious to me. It reminds me of some lovely memories from the past, and it shows me something about tenacity and hope for the future. But most of all, it reminds me that God is so very good. His love is relentless, tenacious, and good, just like that beautiful oak stump. 

Be The Hero

/ Sue Birdseye / Leave a comment

When I taught AP Literature, we studied literary heroes, read epic poems, and discussed heroic and not-so-heroic characters. I was talking with a friend, and the subject of heroes came up. I shared that I sure wish God would bring a hero who could step into my wonky world and fill in some of the missing pieces. Although, mostly, I long for a hero for my heart. 

In literature, just like in life, there are different kinds of heroes. I was thinking of three types: iconic, epic, and reluctant. 

The iconic heroes face challenges but stay the same throughout the story. They don’t need to improve because they already are what they need to be and what we expect them to be. Instantly, Jesus comes to mind. Perfect from the start. No need to change…in fact, He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. (Hebrews 13:8). He is the true Hero of every story, including mine.

The epic heroes’ adventures are full of challenges and near-death experiences, but they learn something, gain strength, acquire new skills, and return home better for the experience. Epic heroes are born for greatness, and their journey enables them to enter their destiny. When I think of epic heroes, I think of Christians on a journey to become better…to become holy. 

And then there are the reluctant heroes who aren’t on the journey to get fame, fortune, or personal gain. They aren’t perfect, but they know it’s the right thing to do and needs to be done. Those reluctant heroes make me think of myself on any given day. I am doing what I need to do, but I am not necessarily thrilled about it. 

Sometimes, this girl’s hero journey (if it can be called that) is not at all ideal and absolutely not what I’d choose…not at all.

But recently, someone challenged me to be the hero of my own journey. 

For someone who has for quite a few years hoped, wished, begged, and longed for a hero to step in and improve things, this idea is radical. Can I really be my own hero? Can I really look to the strength God has given me rather than the strength of someone else?

It has a ring that I like…something empowering and beautiful. Something that makes me feel hopeful and a little bit excited.

For the longest time, my vision for life has included a partner…it is an altogether different thing to consider what my life will look like if God never provides a partner. What would my good and beautiful life be like with Jesus and just me? 

Immediately some things come to mind. And they are not all good. But all those ideas that come to mind are circumstance-oriented, not what I think really being a hero right now means for me. Sometimes, the ideal single-me situation is hard to imagine because, even if I haven’t had a partner, I’ve had people with me so much of my life.

Preparation is required for this hero’s journey. I have some changes to make to become the hero of my story:

1. Accept the journey I’m on…stop trying to change things just to make things feel better.

2. Trust that God will lead me…His pace is perfect to reach the destination He has already prepared for me.

3. Equip myself with the Word of God. Fill my head with His truths rather than mine.

I’ve come to realize that my “truths” are often lies. 

4. Find my security in Him, not my circumstances. This is not a mind-over-matter exercise but rather a pattern of thinking and believing that I can trust God no matter what.

Praying fervently, frequently, and faithfully. 

5. Rest where I am. I choose to believe I’m right where I should be because God is sovereign and good. 

6. Acknowledge and live the truth that my true Hero is Jesus. The One who can make my life meaningful, 

hopeful, peaceful, and joyful is Jesus. Without Him, I’m spinning wheels or plates or brain cells.

Being my story’s hero means I don’t look for others to fix my life. I don’t place my hope in anyone stepping into my world and “fixing” things. Instead, I trust that God and I can do it together. I place all hope for my future in Jesus, the author and perfector of my faith, who is my true Rescuer and Hero.

P.S. I’m not giving up hope for the blessing of a partner in life. I’m still praying, hoping, and trusting that God will bless me with a godly man who will grow closer to Christ (and old) with me! But trusting God means that I’m leaving it all up to Him…His timing, His way, His man. I believe that if that is not His will for my life, He will be exactly what I need.

Bits and Pieces

/ Sue Birdseye / Leave a comment

The other night, my oldest daughter and I walked around a bookstore for about an hour. We like to take pictures of all the books we want to read. We took a fair number of pictures but bought nary a book. I’m sure Barnes and Noble loves us. 

We had been chatting, discussing, and pondering things going on in her life most of the evening. While we browsed through the fiction section, she said this to me, “If someone wrote a book about me, I wonder what bits and pieces they’d use to tell my story.” 

I stopped short and looked intently at her, “Em, that was profound. I love that!”

“Well, would this thing bothering me make it into the book? If it wouldn’t, why am I worrying about it?”

Amen to that! 

I am one of the most extraordinary ponderers, second-guessers, and I-wonderers. Sometimes things seem monumental…little things, big things…all the things. I can jump into pits of thinking faster than life can dig them. I can run ahead of outcomes and fear endings. I can put hope in the craziest places, even places I know will offer nothing in return. I can run from truth into lies and even create a bit of wonkiness in my world. 

And I can even look at great big things that God has done and still get afraid of the future. I can see His provision all around me and still worry about being able to take care of things well. I know God is good, loving, and kind, and I still wonder if He will protect me. 

I’m like Peter walking on water, looking away from Jesus and sinking. I sometimes take my eyes off Jesus when things get rough and complicated. 

I’m like Elijah, who saw God’s awesomeness on display against the Baal prophets but still fears Jezabel and despairs of living. When God does something awesome, sometimes, when the next challenge comes, I forget His ability to deal with things. 

I’m like the Israelites whom God rescued from Egypt, guided with pillars of fire and smoke, led through a river away from an army, and provided for daily yet still they grumbled, complained, and even built and worshipped a pathetic golden calf. When I’ve seen God lead, guide, and provide, I can sometimes complain about what I don’t have rather than the many things I do. I can make an idol out of security…my own golden calf.

I have a garage holding a whole classroom library, lesson plans for years of teaching multiple grades and subjects, and all the odds and ends a teacher accumulates over the years. My garage is one big labyrinth of unnecesary things. Recently, I had an epiphany while tripping and grumbling through my garage full of boxes. I could let it all go, stop falling over it, and trust God will provide if I need it again. 

These bits and pieces of my life no longer need to be part of my story. I’ve decided to load them up a few boxes at a time into the back of my car and share them with colleagues, friends, and Goodwill.

This epiphany made me look at all the bits and pieces in my house. Much of it seems unnecessary. 

But it’s not just the things, not just the stuff that fills drawers, closets, bookshelves, baskets, and garages. It’s the things that fill my heart. The things I hold onto that don’t need to be so firmly grasped…like needing to be perfect. Like feeling frustrated, unforgiving, angry, or bitter. Those irksome feelings that sneak up on any given day. Those things…all those things… need to be released so the Holy Spirit can do a new work in me. 

See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? 

I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. Isaiah 43:19

Like all the boxes in my garage, I can get rid of things that trip me up and cause me to stumble…that fill me with anxious thoughts and fear of the future, or indecision and second-guessing. If I let go of all the bits and pieces that aren’t worthy of my story, I am free to embrace those that are. I’m free to love and live and serve and bless and rest. 

God calls me to a life of freedom in Him. He calls me to cast my cares on Him, let go of my anxious thoughts, and keep my eyes on Him and the future He is preparing for me even now.

I don’t want to trip over all the things of the past, the anxiousness of the present, or the fears of the future…I want to trust God. He promises to be with me always, to provide for me, to give me rest and refreshment, to heal me, and to guide me.  

The LORD is my shepherd, I lack nothing.

He makes me lie down in green pastures, 

he leads me beside quiet waters, 

he refreshes my soul.

He guides me along the right paths for his name’s sake.  Psalm 23:1-3

If I trust and believe God, I can lean into Him and away from all the stuff that causes me to trip and stumble. I can let go of all the bits and pieces so that I can rest in Him and live in the story He has written for me. 

Not Exactly What I Was Looking For

/ Sue Birdseye / Leave a comment

One morning recently, my oldest daughter and I were having our weekend morning coffee together time. We talk, share, and lament the lack of sleep one or both of us had the previous night. This particular morning we decided to get on the ferry and head to a beach where you can find shark teeth. I should probably amend that statement and say that my daughter would find shark teeth and I would spend all the time looking and leave completely empty-handed. It’s just how it is…I don’t know why because I’m really good at word searches and Where’s Waldo stuff. I just can’t seem to find those little teeth as much as I try.

This particular morning, we arrived a little later than planned for optimum shark teeth hunting, but it was still a beautiful day and we are always up for an adventure. We walked down to the beach and began our hunt. We didn’t find any shark teeth which honestly was a bit shocking considering my daughter’s track record. I, on the other hand, wasn’t surprised by my lack of success, but I did find some beautiful shells and I decided that I was okay with those.

It’s a little like my life. I can safely say that life hasn’t been exactly what I thought it would be. Many of the things I want and even some of the things I think I need, God hasn’t given. Although, He has given other things.

If I can get my head and my heart to rest and truly believe that He loves me completely and perfectly, I can also rest in the knowledge that what I have is enough. 

What He provides is perfect. 

What He withholds is also perfect. 

That second sentence is a difficult one to believe sometimes…and even a little hard to write. 

If I write it and publish this blog then I’m truly saying I believe it. 

I believe that even what God doesn’t provide for me is perfect for me.

I’ve had this conversation with my children too because when God says “no” or “wait” they feel like He doesn’t really love them. Sometimes the things they pray for seem like normal things that surely God wants for them too. Like friends. Like healing. And yet, things don’t happen. 

Believing God is perfect, sovereign, and good means I trust that unanswered prayers are perfect too. God loves me when He says “no” just as much as when He says “yes”. Sometimes it doesn’t feel that way, particularly when it seems as though there have been more “no”s than “yes”s. 

One thing I’ve noticed, like finding those shells, is that I can still find beauty in a season of no’s. I can live grateful even when God withholds what I dearly long for and what I feel like I desperately need. 

It just takes a moment to breathe deeply and pray thankfully. To look around with eyes open and searching for God’s goodness and mercy. It can be found.

This week, I prayed that God would give me a testimony of thankfulness. To be totally honest, I prayed it a bit manipulatively because I wanted answered prayers BUT God has answered, not exactly as I had hoped, but how He has answered!

I had a good conversation with a daughter struggling. Another daughter got an 88 on a science test that had caused tears and loss of sleep the night before. I enjoyed a lovely evening of fellowship with friends. I have been blessed with wonderful colleagues at my new job. I had a great text conversation with my two sons about an interesting faith topic. We didn’t totally agree on it but it was amazing!  Out of the blue, a kind and generous friend offered to purchase a lawnmower because mine chops rather than cuts my grass. I got an unexpected hug and prayer from a stranger at Panda Express (that one is going to get its own blog soon). Those are just the things that came to mind real quick…I know there were more.

God knew what I truly needed, not just what I wanted or thought I needed.

Those were shells in my hand…not what I was looking for exactly, but beautiful nonetheless. 

When You Lose It

/ Sue Birdseye / Leave a comment

Over the years I’ve lost a lot of things…the biggest being my marriage and the second is probably sleep. But there have been a few other things lost along the way…I’ve lost my mind a time or two, lost my appetite (could stand to do that a bit more), lost my courage, lost an argument, lost my way, lost my heart, lost my hope, lost my keys, my phone, and even my car in the parking lot. 

Today, I lost my temper. 

I hope no one saw it…or heard it. I have teenage daughters…I can probably leave it there. One of them…ooooo golly do I need to pray the Lord will help me with both our attitudes. Her’s first though. Unfortunately, our little mother-daughter moment was in the parking lot at school, at the end of the day, at the end of our first week…when we are all still trying to make good impressions. 

Thankfully, even when things go sideways, we are quick to make up. Quick to apologize and quick to forgive. But the words that can fly around in a car when we are angry could knock you out. Nothing that would make you blush, but emotional nonetheless.

We both realized that her actions and my reactions came from a place other than each other. I was (am) truly exhausted. She was bothered by something someone said and then I was having to say no to something truly fun. I felt terrible and so did she and instead of being kind to one another…we lost our patience. 

Yet another loss. 

The past 15 years of single parenting have involved a lot of loss…not all bad, but sometimes all the things that I’ve had to let go of and all the things that I’ve lost because of my own selfishness and sin, and even the selfishness and sin of others…well, it can become overwhelming. I think that might be why God says to “forget the former things.” (Isaiah 43:18) Letting go and losing those things that can tangle me up and drag me down. I want to be done losing my footing because of past things. 

Not quite sure how to do it. Does it mean looking intently, accepting it, acknowledging it, and handing it over to Jesus? Does it mean I just let go and let God….forget about it, as it were?  

I often, if not always, prefer an easy answer to things. I don’t know that there is one. I’ve had people say just don’t think about it….I get not pondering it, but thoughts tend to pop in unannounced sometimes. Sometimes I’ve been told to focus on other things…ahhh but you forget my spaghetti brain…it’s all in there together, jumbled up. Someone has told me to just not feel that hard thing…if I knew how to not feel, to lose some of my many emotions…oh boy wouldn’t I do it! There have been times over the years when I’d have crawled out of my skin to stop feeling something. I’d definitely lose some emotions if I could. 

Feelings and emotions, memories and regrets, brokenness, bruises, and scars…those are things that have to be dealt with…not stuffed, numbed, or ignored. I think healing begins with a good dose of reality. Stark reality. Tear the bandage off…see it for what it is…clean it, scrub it,  cleanse it…take a deep breath and pour some serious antiseptic on it…then some healing ointment and a fresh bandage. 

Just sticking a bandage on a wound won’t make it better. Neither will only cleaning it a little. Leaving it cleaned but open to the elements won’t aid healing either. There are always steps to healing anything…including a broken heart.

But once that bandage is on there, leave it alone. Don’t peel back the bandage and peek. Don’t poke. Don’t mess with it. I think that is the key to losing the hold the past can sometimes have on us. 

Face it. Acknowledge it. Figure out what you need to do with it and do it.

Then, after facing reality, let go of it. I think this is a lot like forgiveness. Sometimes we need to let go of something repeatedly. I, for one, know all about letting go and picking back up and letting go and picking back up. I’ve built the “pick it back up” muscles to Olympic strength. Letting go takes time and to some degree practice. But each time I put something down it becomes harder to pick it up and easier to put it back down.

I know I’m not supposed to live in the past or with the past defining my present or my future. I know God wants me to learn from the past but also lose it. Lose how it can still hurt. Lose how it can make me afraid. Lose how it can keep me up at night. Lose how it can make me frustrated and sometimes even a little bit angry.

Accept that what has happened, has indeed happened. That what has been done has already been done and can’t be changed. That decisions and choices were made and can’t be undone.

That healing is possible. So is hope. 

The next part of Isaiah 43, “Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I’m making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland” (v. 19). It doesn’t say that God will take me out of the difficulties, but that He will make a way through them…through dark and confusing wildernesses and terrifying and hopeless wastelands. God is making a way through it. He’s walking me through it.

And He definitely won’t lose me. No matter how often I let go of His hand in my hurt, anger, and silliness. He sees me and hears me and knows just exactly where I am!

Oh, how I love where God brings me when I start writing. I stopped writing in the middle of this because I wasn’t sure where God wanted me to go on this journey of losing things. And when, days later, I sat back down, He brought me to the place I always want to be…the place where I can lose my fear and hopelessness…the place where I am safe and loved…the place beside Him.

Where else would I go?

/ Sue Birdseye / 2 Comments

I have written a lot lately about being loved. It’s a place I haven’t felt God leading me to leave yet. I’m on this journey to have my hope restored, my broken heart repaired, and to learn to trust again. Without the love of Jesus, I do not believe it would be possible. Even with my Savior by my side, it is no easy journey.

There is a song I grew up singing that I often find myself humming. As someone who desperately wants to be enough, loved, and chosen, it is a blessed reminder that I am loved and chosen just as I am.

Just as I am, without one plea
But that Thy blood was shed for me
And that Thou bid’st me come to Thee
Oh, Lamb of God, I come, I come

Just as I am, and waiting not
To rid my soul of one dark blot
To Thee whose blood can cleanse each spot
O Lamb of God, I come, I come

Just as I am, though tossed about
With many a conflict, many a doubt
Fighting and fears within without
Oh, Lamb of God, I come, I come

Just as I am, poor, wretched, blind;
Sight, riches, healing of the mind
Yea, all I need in Thee to find
O Lamb of God, I come, I come

Just as I am, Thou wilt receive
Wilt welcome, pardon, cleanse, relieve
Because They promise I believe
Oh, Lamb of God, I come, I come

I must remind myself daily that God welcomes and loves me just as I am. I think I’ve been trying to make myself lovable my whole life. Over the years, I’ve molded myself into a million different versions to be what I thought others wanted. I’ve stuffed emotions, hidden fears, laughed when I wanted to cry, and raged silently and alone. I’ve tried to be or at least appear perfect without success. I’ve tried to make things as perfect for others as possible, even at my own expense. I’ve loved others completely, hoping they’d do the same in return. I’ve been a doormat and an open gate. Until lately, I’ve never had a boundary I wouldn’t move for someone else. 

It has been an exhausting and difficult way to live.

But God…

Oh, how dear that phrase is to me. I don’t have to make myself lovable because God loves me just as I am. He knows, loves, and chooses me even when I fail to be perfect, when all my emotions come spilling out, and when I struggle with everything hard.

I find myself asking, “Can I rest in that knowledge? Just believe that He loves me enough to fill the empty places and fix all the brokenness?” As Peter said, “Where else can we go?” (John 6:68)  

Is there anywhere else to go for true love, deep healing, and real hope? Jesus is the answer to all the questions…to the loneliness, the feeling of lack, the hopelessness, the fear, and the hurt…to the hopes, dreams, and longings.

Trying to find comfort in other things or people is so easy. I’ve learned that nothing and no one can fill the heart place made for Jesus alone. 

I’ve been on a journey of healing these past few years. It’’s been more like Pilgrim’s Progress than I’d like. I left the City of Destruction, heading to the Celestial City with a stop in the Slough of Despond, a trek up the Hill Difficulty, a walk through the Valley of Humiliation, a detour into By-Path Meadow, and a short stay at Doubting Castle. Always heading in the right direction but a few twists, turns, and troubles along the way…some by choice, some by accident, some by design.

Healing involves dealing with some pretty tricky emotions that seem to show up at the worst possible times. This past week, my daughters and I went camping at the beach. Looking out across the Atlantic Ocean, I was reminded how great our God is and how sometimes my emotions feel as tumultuous as those waves. My feelings are like crashing waves that knock me down and drag me farther out from the safety of the shore. I’ve certainly had a few wallops. Sometimes I even find myself sputtering my complaints about the whole situation to God while trying desperately to stay afloat in the undertow of hurts and questions. As always, He stays with me…draws me closer to Himself…drags me to shore, hands me a towel, sits down with me, listens, and wipes my tears. And if I take a moment to listen, He speaks words of hope, life, and love into my heart and mind.  

Other times, I have epiphanies like beautiful shells that appear in the surf. Realizations, understandings, and graces that reveal something beautiful to me, even in the midst of struggles and fears. The waves rush up, tickling my toes, and there is something beautiful and delicate before me. Something precious I just have to reach for and hold close.  

I’m learning that tears can bring healing and even hope. That prayers uttered on my pillow or shared with a friend bring me solace and comfort. That a song of worship can change my whole perspective and attitude.

Healing for me means that I’m going to be still with Jesus. I’m going to stop striving to be loved because I already am. I am already completely and utterly loved, just as I am. 

Be Brave

/ Sue Birdseye / 1 Comment

There is a piece of paper I taped to the window in front of my desk that says, “Be Brave Enough to Disappoint” because I’m a people pleaser. Someone who breathes for affirmation. Someone who seeks love and acceptance probably a little like a crazy person. 

I’ll do almost anything to make someone else feel good, happy, welcome, loved, and appreciated. For them because I truly do care, but also so that there might be a chance I receive those things in return.

I have an extreme longing to be loved, affirmed, and chosen, which can make me prone to not keeping firm boundaries – that’s a word I’ve heard over the years and a lot recently. And, if I’m honest, not one I’ve practiced well or sometimes at all.

To have and keep boundaries, you need to be brave. 

Brave enough to disappoint or even potentially cause some pain for someone. Neither of those things is in my wheelhouse. But boundaries can provide security, safety, and peace. 

A lot of my struggle revolves around how people feel and think about me. And, if I’m being completely honest, about how I think people feel and think about me.

The problem with not wanting to disappoint others is that eventually, you get worn out from doing and working and pleasing, and that can lead to feelings of hurt, anger, and sadness. 

And sometimes, when I don’t set boundaries, I cross boundaries. God-given boundaries. 

God’s boundaries are set in good places. Safe places. Secure places. Blessed places. 

Boundary-busting behavior isn’t necessarily scandalous or dangerous, but it can definitely open the door to both.

I used to tell my children that safety is found in obedience. If you listen and obey, you will be safe and secure. When my three oldest children were little, dangerous people were targeting random people in our area. I remember sitting my little people down and saying, “If Mommy says, get down or get in the car fast, you need to obey immediately.” And, my wide-eyed sweethearts nodded, not knowing truly why, although I believe they understood the importance.

I believe God’s word is like that. God wants us to obey…shows us the importance of obedience…through the verses we read and the stories showing the results of obedience and disobedience alike.

He is saying to us in so many ways, “Dearest, listen to me. Obey me. Stay within the boundary lines I have established so you can be near Me, safe and blessed.”

I have a friend who has property that someone is encroaching on quite blatantly. There are laws that say you shouldn’t, but also laws that say if you do and stay there long enough, you might actually get to keep the land. I wonder if that doesn’t apply to crossing God’s boundaries. If we step out of His land into places we don’t belong, eventually, those out-of-boundary places feel like places we do belong. We begin to own those places and no longer know our true home. 

Stepping over the boundaries might look like me trying to take control of things instead of letting God lead. It might look like doing when I should be waiting. It might mean settling for good instead of God’s best. It might mean ignoring the ways out of temptation He provides. It might mean seeking peace and comfort from something or someone other than God. And it might mean settling into places I don’t belong. Places where I’m focused on other things rather than God. Places where I get away from settling in next to my Savior. 

Crossing boundaries might mean trying to please someone more than God.

Being brave is trusting God to be enough for me. Knowing that I have no business trying to please others more than Him. I can be brave enough to obey even when it means I will disappoint others. I can be brave enough to stay within His boundaries because I trust God has placed and kept me in a safe place.

Be brave. Trust God.

Dogeared and Dearly Loved

/ Sue Birdseye / Leave a comment

Dogeared: (adj.) Having many pages with corners that have been folded down, usually a sign of heavy use.

I never used to fold down the corner of book pages. It would be shocking to me to ruin the clean, flat, perfect look of a page. Now, I almost take pleasure in bending that little bit of paper down before I close the book and put it on my nightstand. 

It’s such a small and silly thing, but I find it a bit comforting. Maybe because it symbolizes something else for me. An effort to no longer try to be perfect – as if I ever was or even came close. 

Perfection is a ridiculous expectation. An impossible goal. Destined for failure. And yet I have made it, at least in my head and sometimes my heart, a real and true objective. An objective with no other outcome than failure. And feeling like a failure is something I’m entirely too well acquainted with for my liking. 

My goal needs to be different. To live peacefully, wisely, and trustingly. And even with those, the Holy Spirit needs to make it happen. 

Or maybe it’s not going to be an adverb at all, but rather a state of being…of living.

Living as a child of God, a daughter of the King, a dearly loved and chosen woman.

Oh, that last one…that one gently wraps around me and soothes my heart. 

A dearly loved and chosen woman.

Love, at least the romantic kind, has not really worked out well for me. I have more broken and bruised parts to show for it than anything else. But there is still a part of me, not totally hidden, that cries out to be loved well by someone. Although I long for that kind of love, that isn’t the love I feel drawn to right now.

I’m drawn to the love that knows me completely and loves me still. The love that will not let me go no matter how much I pull and tug and trip and fall away. The love that will never leave me alone.

The love of my Father declares with a fierce tenderness that I am a dearly loved woman.

God invites me to take off my shoes and be comfortable, to climb up next to Him when I’m scared, to hide my face in His shoulder when I’m sad, to lean on Him when I’m tired, to vent all the things to His patient ear, to laugh with abandoned and joy in His presence.

In this dearly loved space it’s okay if my mascara is running because sometimes life really hurts. It’s even completely alright to fall asleep mid-sentence because He’ll be right there when I wake. 

God offers an ask me, talk to me, seek me kind of love. A never leave you, never abandon you, never betray you kind of love. A “you are precious and exquisitely beautiful” kind of love. A “you are chosen” kind of love.

You and me….we are dearly loved just as we are, perfectly imperfect.