GPS Fail

This past summer my family and I were driving through Germany. We were extremely grateful for the English speaking GPS that came with the vehicle. She was a bit bossy but since we were in a foreign country we let her have her way. :) During one trip we followed her directions precisely. Precisely to a dead end. The road ran out, literally! Huh. So that's what those signs must have meant a half mile back...*grin* We turned around and made our way back to the road we knew was the right one. She told us to stop as soon as we could and turn around. We did, just once, thinking she had re-routed and was sending us a different way. Nope. We arrived back at that dead end. Driving down the wrong road, which honestly was more of a dirt path, we all had the feeling it was wrong but she kept telling us to keep on so we did. Turns out we were right and she was wrong. She didn't know what we had discovered, there were signs telling us what she could not. So we had to take matters into our own hands - in Germany where we couldn't find English speaking people. So we decided to get back on the main road and force our GPS to re-route. She didn't like it. She kept telling us to stop and turn around. We kept telling her no. We were lost and had to find ourselves, the GPS could either help us out or stay quiet.

A few years ago I made a job change. I was at a place I loved, a place that I fit in with, doing work that was fun. I was under-utilized but otherwise it was one of the best places I had found myself in in a very long time. But I had to make a change for my family. So I went looking. And something came up, so quickly and unexpectedly that it felt a little whirlwind-ish. It was, I still believe, an answer to many people's prayers. I made the move reluctantly but with determination. On my third day at my new place of employment, my former workplace called and offered me what I needed for my family. Conundrum. My internal GPS of this new workplace was telling me I was headed for a dead end but I had made a commitment. I had given my former workplace some opportunities and none of them had worked out until now. So even though I had the expectation of a dead end, I had the hope of a different outcome. I had to, painfully, turn down my former workplace and stay at the new place. It still hurts my heart to think about it. 

For a couple of years the hope of a better outcome than I expected at this place of employment was stronger than the knowledge that this wasn't going to end well. But then things started to change. Signs started appearing along the road. The reality of who I was became too much for certain people within the organization. They liked the idea of me. When interviewed they liked that I practiced biblical conflict resolution, that I was a lay counselor and so therefore a safe person to talk to, that I was interested in the morale of a workplace, and other things. But two years in and they figured out that the idea of me was also reality and they didn't like the reality. Biblical conflict resolution is uncomfortable and it made some people very squirmy. Having someone in the office that was a lay counselor and safe place became a threat to some of the more insecure people. My ways of encouragement and morale boosting seemed immature to one and threatened a small handful of others. 

For the last two years of my time at this organization I was called a gossip, I was named by name to new employees as someone that wasn't trustworthy, I was isolated from the majority of the office by being a person nobody was allowed to speak to or be seen with, when conflict came up I became the target of it, and I was told that I was no longer allowed to do any sort of encouraging or morale boosting with the employees. One of the org's core values is Hebrews 10:24 but I was specifically told that I was not allowed to live that value out in the office. If you know me then you know already what happened. I got lost. This org was giving me bad, and wrong, directions and I was headed for a dead end in the middle of nowhere where nobody else was speaking my language. My gut knew it, but for several reasons I continued following the directions. There's always the spark of hope that things will right themselves and turn around. 

A few years ago I was following Google maps to a destination I had plugged into the GPS. And I followed Google's directions but all the while with the feeling that something didn't seem quite right. I was in the right area and even on some of the right roads but the directions to turn left or right felt wrong. My gut instinct, even though I didn't know where this place was exactly, was telling me Google was wrong and I was more right. And when I reached the destination, according to Google, I was on a dark street in some part of my city I didn't even know existed. I was definitely not in the right place. My gut knew it but I followed Google anyway. I was lost and needing to figure out how to get to a familiar place. I made a call to a friend, "Help! Find me!"

If you drive around lost for too long you run the risk of depleting your energy supply. In a vehicle's case that would be fuel. In a heart's case that would be life. The longer I drove on the road this org had me on, the weaker I became. I gained A LOT of weight. A LOT. I quit taking care of myself externally - i.e. I quit wearing any makeup, I quit fixing my hair, I quit dressing the way I knew I should be for the position I was in. I forgot how to search out sugar to make lemonade.  I forgot how to be and do a lot of things. It was all there inside me still, but every time I tried to express it I was reprimanded. I became fearful of people again. ICK. I was losing all the ground I had gained in the years prior. I hated the way I was feeling. I hated that the people who had met me during my time at this org didn't know who I really was, they only knew the version of me that was trying to survive this dead end road I was on. (They were the ones who made a choice to defy the "suggestion" that they not interact with me at all.) I made a comment to a newer friend one day that I hated she didn't really know me. She replied back, "Beth, I see you. I do." I cried. I didn't see how anyone could see who I really was with all this toxic sludge covering me up. A three in my life kept making observations that I had gone missing, she wasn't wrong. I was missing. All the life-giving parts of me had been suppressed despite the struggle to keep them alive. Driving on the roads of this org had sucked the life out of me. I was depleted, I was MIA in my own life.  

But I had made a promise. My GPS at the organization, in other words - my boss, asked me to make a promise to stay on the road the org had built and after discussions with some important people I made the promise, even though I had put my blinker on and was ready to exit. Conundrum. It felt like the third day at this new place when the former called and offered me what I wanted and needed. It was painful to make the promise but it wasn't just about me, I had a family I needed to consider as well. Making that promise was the exit sign that I drove right on by. Yet as I drove by it, I knew the dead end was up ahead and the person acting as my GPS didn’t know the signs were there so he just told me to keep moving forward. So I kept moving forward, the signs increasing but the GPS insisting he was leading me the right way. I was hoping to get back to a main road and go it on my own but the dead end was getting closer and closer. And then we arrived. I had fulfilled my part of the promise to the GPS, but the GPS let me down. He didn’t listen to me when I told him about the signs. The choice to re-route was available. The GPS could have re-routed but he didn’t. He insisted I keep going along the roads the org had made. The roads of this organization are cracked, there are deep potholes littering it, the speed bumps are not rounded but pointed at the top and cars get hung up there, the repair jobs are very temporary – the decay and the damage reappearing almost as quickly as the repair attempt happens. These are not safe roads to travel. And those who do travel them feel the damage quickly. In the end it’s a very costly trip to take and the only place it ends up is a dead end.

So here I am, lost and needing to figure out how to get to a familiar place. I’ve made some calls to some friends, "Help! Find me!" but just like in Germany this past summer, I’ve got to find myself as well. I can’t rely on others to get me back to the main road, I’ve got to make my way there with friends holding the right signs along the way. 

Selah

I did it. Nobody thought I would. I guess that's fair, maybe I didn't think I would. But I did it. Inked. I put ink on my skin permanently. Not just any ink of course. Ink that means something, ink that when I look at it or when my peripheral catches it I am reminded. On one wrist I inked the Hebrew word shalom, you've listened to my thoughts about shalom before. (For a refresher or if you haven't you can click here.) On the other wrist, the right one, the Hebrew word selah. Say what? Selah.

If you've been around me enough you've heard me say the word. I'll use it to respond to a particularly moving or profound statement/insight. I'll use it when reacting to an event that is touching or special. And it kind of makes people hesitate. "What did she say? Selah? Where have I seen that word before?" Let me help you out. The Book of Psalm. You've seen it if you have read in the Book of Psalm. It shows up right away in Psalm 3 and is frequently used throughout the book. What does it mean? What is its purpose? Why is it used? All three of those answers are fortunately found in one answer, the answer of selah.

Selah* is a mystery word. Its origins are unknown so they have been guessed at and its meaning is unknown so it has been guessed at. As with many words/phrases it is possible it came into being to mean one thing but has evolved into what the modern meaning is for today. And the modern meaning is my focus, my intent, and the very reason why I permanently inked my skin with the characters, jots, and tittles that make up the Hebrew word selah.

The word caught my attention years ago. It's easy to zoom past. It's generally italicized and off to the side in perhaps smaller font. One might dismiss it, move past it with the thought, "Oh that's just some Hebrew thing that doesn't apply to me today, now, at all." One might be wrong. If it's there at least give it some attention to find out its purpose. When you write something you don't include a word for no reason do you? So what's up with this word? In the Amplified Version of the Bible, which is one of my favorite versions because it expounds on the words and gives them depth that our english language doesn't possess, the word selah is expanded to mean this: pause and think on that. In other words, stop for a moment - don't rush past what was just said - reflect on what was just said about God or what God himself just said - how does what was just said apply to your own life - pause for just a moment on what you just read/heard and consider it.

We rush. And if it's something we have heard or read before we rush even quicker through the passage like it's a checklist and we just need to mark it off so we can move on. We are uncomfortable with taking the time we might need, that the passage might need, that the moment might need, to find understanding and reflect. But really, what's our rush? Do we have a deadline? The fact is we don't have any deadlines but our reality has somehow convinced us that we do. So we rush through, missing the jots and tittles of meaning, missing the richness of the word, missing the moment we could have had.

And so I did it. I placed a permanent reminder, on my dominant (and therefore very busy, always rushing) side. A reminder to pause. A reminder to slow down. A reminder to stop rushing when there's no real rush. A reminder to not miss the jots and tittles of moments with people, with events, with God himself. A reminder to consider before I go forward with either action or word.

A reminder, forever, to build my life around selah combined with shalom.


*For wikipedia's background on selah click here.

The Freedom in Unpacking

We've been talking about baggage recently. Not the kind of baggage you can see but the kind that is felt. It can be, and it is, felt in everyday interactions with other people or in how a situation is handled and approached.  And we have this unspoken, maybe even unacknowledged, expectation for other people to carry our baggage for us. We press them into service as a personal sherpa. And that's not anyone's job in life - to be the personal sherpa for another's emotional baggage.

Galatians 6:2 talks about carrying the burdens of life for one another. And I hate to break it to *you* but carrying doesn't mean what you might want it to mean. It doesn't mean that we enslave another person to carry our stuff. It actually means that we come alongside someone, help them shoulder the burden in ways that help to lighten, heal, and sort it out. It doesn't mean that we assume responsibility for someone's baggage. It does mean that we can help them unpack it.

Packing is a lot different, at least for me, than unpacking. When I pack for a trip I fold things, roll things, consolidate as much as possible. If someone opened my bag to search it they would find a rather organized pack job. But coming home? That's a whole different story. Forget folding, rolling, and even consolidating. I shove it all in, haphazardly, and hope the bag doesn't pop open or get searched. It's a mess. Our baggage, the felt not the seen, is a lot like the coming home packing. We've taken hurts, anger, and other things and shoved them in without paying much attention to them.  As a result our baggage is close to bursting.

Have you ever had your luggage explode open on you? What a mess. What an embarrassment (hello undies)! What an inconvenience. Have you ever exploded? It's messy right? It can be embarrassing, if not right away then later on. And it can be very inconvenient depending on who is around when the explosion happens (job loss, relationship loss, etc). Instead of walking around wondering when my baggage is going to explode I prefer unpacking it as quickly as possible. It's true, I could repack it for the trip home in a more organized way - that's always the plan. But usually I get to that moment and I just don't want to think about that item any longer, I just want to pack it away. Cue the haphazard pack job.

Galatians 6:2, between the lines, means helping one another to unpack. That is what carry means in that particular scripture. But unpacking is a little weird right? I mean you've got your dirty undies and your stinky socks. I know I don't want anyone having to see, handle, or deal with those - I don't even want to myself! That's why we usually try to unpack our baggage alone. But sometimes we can't. We just can't. It's too messy, too hard, too hurtful, too much. Sometimes, actually I would argue all of the time, we need help unpacking our "felt" baggage. But it can't be just anyone. It has to be "the right one."

Ecclesiastes talks about seasons in chapter 3.  And just like there is a season for everything we experience in life there are also people for different times of our lives. I've had people be the "right one" for certain seasons and then suddenly they no longer are. God knows our needs and he knows what kind of people we need for each season and for each piece of baggage that needs to be unpacked. So the "right person" may be just right for popping open the bag for us. Or maybe they are going to help us sort the mess inside. Or, and this is the biggie, maybe they are going to help us handle the dirty and stinky and get it cleaned up.

And not every piece of baggage we carry is the same. Just like literal baggage comes in a variety of sizes, materials, and functions so does our "felt" baggage. Some of our emotional baggage is small and compact, easily unpacked and forgotten. But some of our emotional baggage is like what I call one piece of baggage I have. I call this suitcase the "Mack Daddy." This piece is HUGE. It was a gift from a dear couple and it weighs - empty - something like 12 pounds. It is massive. And while Mack Daddy is great for packing a lot of stuff, it is cumbersome. It's large (understatement). It can become that piece of luggage that everyone avoids. (Thank goodness for its wheels!) Sometimes our emotional baggage resembles Mack Daddy - cumbersome and the piece that everyone avoids. Sometimes we have a piece of emotional baggage that is so stuffed full it exceeds weight limits (of the heart and mind that is). So as varied as our "felt" baggage is so will be the variety of "right people" in our lives to help us unpack.

And the flip side is true. We will be someone's "right person" to help them unpack and our role won't always be the same - it will depend on the person who needs help unpacking and the size of their baggage. I've participated in all the roles - zipping it open for them, sort the mess out, and even the biggie. I've helped some handle and unpack the dirty and the stinky and get it cleaned up.

Everyone has baggage. Let's love each other enough to refuse to haul it around and offer to help unpack it instead.

Sherpa for hire?

That's it, *we* need to have a talk.

I am not *your* baggage claim and *you* are not mine. Listen, we all have our baggage - that's not the point. The point is I have my own to haul and you have yours. Don't make me get yours, I don't have the capacity, and I won't make you pick up mine. I can't be responsible for your baggage just like you can't be for mine. So quit trying to make me pick yours up, assume responsibility for it, and carry it yourself.

I'm adjusted to the way my baggage rolls, the way it feels when I handle it, and the quirks it might possess (wobbly wheels, sticky handle, stubborn zipper, etc). I can get around pretty smoothly with my baggage because I know it. But when someone else pushes their baggage on to me, expecting me to keep the same pace with this additional load that isn't mine, then I slow down. I get clumsy and unsure.

I recognize my baggage right away. It has a distinct marker on it so I don't have to guess at which is mine. But if I'm made to get someone else's baggage then I have to look at each tag as it glides by me on the carousel. It slows everyone down.

There's a reason why airlines ask if you have left your baggage alone at any point in time or if someone you don't know has asked you to carry theirs. Because airlines recognize that sometimes it isn't safe or wise to take on someone else's baggage.  If the airlines get that then surely *we* can too.

Lately I've been having some baggage issues. Some of my own baggage got opened and searched and some of my co-workers have been attempting to make me their personal sherpa's and haul their baggage around. Listen, I'm not here to haul your stuff around for you. I'm not here to carry it for you. I'm not here to be your proxy baggage handler. Do you see me foisting my baggage on to *you*? Yeah, I didn't think so.

Galatians 6:2 tells us to carry one another's burdens. That doesn't mean what *you* might want it to mean. A few years ago I was taking a big trip. I had never taken this kind of trip before and I was at a loss as to how to pack for it. One of my three's came over one day and packed me up. I helped some but she took the lead and showed me the way. She helped to carry my burden of baggage for a season but she didn't assume responsibility for it nor did she come along on my trip and act as my personal sherpa. I had to take care of my own baggage, I alone was responsible for it. She helped me to carry it, sort it out, and lighten up but she couldn't, and didn't, take it on as her own. That's the living out of Galatians 1:2. God doesn't mean for us to haul other's burdens - that's not what "carry" means in this case. He means for us to walk alongside, shoulder some of it in ways that help lighten, heal, and sort it out. If someone else carries my baggage for me I'm not going to learn what it is like to carry my own and sort it out for myself. We each have to learn how to handle our own baggage and not attempt to transfer ownership to someone else.

Listen, I can't, and shouldn't, haul your baggage around for you just as you shouldn't for me. But I am willing, like one of my three's did, to help you - not pack it up but rather unpack it. When it comes to the kind of baggage we are hauling around with us everyday we don't need any help packing that up thankyouverymuch, but am I right when I point out that when it comes to unpacking we could use a hand, well actually a heart, to help us?

Click here for "Part Two"

You mean, not everyone likes me?

This morning I heard of a game night that happened with a bunch of people I know. Most of them from work but some of them I knew from before my current workplace. I wasn't invited. Let's be honest, I probably wouldn't have gone anyway but it still stung a wee bit that I wasn't invited. I think I know why I wasn't, I can speculate with a pretty decent degree of accuracy why I wasn't. Still, it stung just a wee bit. And then I got over myself.  

Reality check.
I am not for everyone. My humor (or lack thereof), my personality (hello rare INFJ), my expression of faith (I observe Biblical Festivals and eat Kosher say whaaaa?), my work style (Type A which means I procrastinate until I can do it "perfect"), my laugh (I'm betting someone is annoyed by it), my tone of voice (same - someone is annoyed by it), my inflexibility when it comes to treatment of people (yeah, I'm so weird - I think grace should win), my inability to be brief (this post is shaping up to be a good example of that), my hermit tendencies (I go off the grid every weekend possible), my uncanny discernment abilities (makes people squirm), and so much more.
Reality checked.

I am not for everyone.
Oh guess what? Neither are you.
There's your reality check.

But there's good news.
Really good news actually.

You are for someone and I am too. There are people out there who "get" me and "get" you too. They understand, tolerate, maybe even like our idiosyncrasies. Not everyone has to like us and we don't have to like everyone. It's really okay. We are looking for quality over quantity anyway. Right? (Nod your head yes) Quality is always better than quantity and let's be honest, I'm not quality for some people and they aren't quality for me and it's okay. It's really okay.

One final thought.
I'm not for everyone and not everyone is for me BUT. But that doesn't mean I don't extend grace, kindness, compassion, and courtesy to everyone. Treating people with courtesy regardless of the relationship I have with them or they have with me is a non-negotiable.

It's a non- negotiable for me.
Oh guess what? For you too.

Radio Silence

{Continued Tales of Melancholia}

When the static begins I notice, as anyone does when static comes across the airwaves. Before fiddling with the dial to try and adjust past the static I wait to see if it corrects itself. Sometimes I know I'm just in a "dead spot" and in a matter of seconds the static will disappear and the frequency will be crystal clear again. But other times the static persists and so I start to fiddle with the dial - go up just a smidge, go down just a smidge. When my fiddling doesn't change the static I go radio silent. That static is annoying, right?

As it turns out static doesn't happen just on the airwaves, it happens in my life too. Sometimes the static that begins is a blip, a momentary "dead spot" that I know will disappear after a good night's sleep or a book (or two) read. But when the static doesn't clear up I start fiddling with my dials - adjust a smidge here and a smidge there. And when the fiddling doesn't change the static I go radio silent. My transmitter needs some maintenance.

The static comes without warning and I have yet to figure out its triggers. At first I thought it might be time of year/season related but then I went radio silent when I didn't expect. So the conclusion is it happens when it happens and I need to stayed tuned in to myself. The problem with the static that leads me to radio silence is I go silent with everyone in my life - without warning or notice I basically drop off the grid, I go underground, I retreat. I go silent.

Things have been static the past month or so. I've been fiddling with my dials but in the past few days I have noticed that I'm off the grid as much as I can be considering I work full time. Going radio silent shows up in different ways. I watch more TV, I read less, I have to talk myself out of bed and into life every day, I'm listless, I'm indifferent, I can't find energy to respond to the simplest of texts, I procrastinate, I quit engaging with my 3's and 12's, and more.

I know what dials to fiddle with. I may up my morale boosting activities, purposely schedule coffee and lunch with friends, take naps as often as I can, find a project at home or work to focus on, give myself some space to clear the static, I keep to my routine and commitments as much as possible. And sometimes that fiddling works and hardly anyone is the wiser to the static I just had to clear.

I go radio silent when the fiddling doesn't work and that static gets so annoying that I have to power down. I cannot gather myself enough to even send out an alert to people who should know I'm dropping off the grid. It just happens and I leave in the silence people who I love and care about and who love and care about me. And then one day, out of the blue (pun intended), I'm powered back on and no static is present. My transmitter is working again.

I can't explain these static filled and silent times. And they make me feel guilty for friends and family lost in my radio silence, perplexed at why the static didn't clear, literally exhausted physically and mentally. I wonder when I power back on who will still be hanging around, understanding that I had retreated not because of them but because of me, loving me in spite of my sudden and confusing silence. I don't blame people when they drift away - it's hard to be in close relationship with someone who goes radio silent with no warning. I'm always awed when people close in around me even though I'm not aware they have until the static clears and I'm back on the air.

I work for a radio station so I have learned a very small amount about the airwaves, transmitters, and such. When we have storms in our various markets and the signal goes to static or silent we hear about it from our listeners. I imagine over the years we have lost some listeners in some of our markets that seem to perpetually be static or silent but we also have retained a lot of listeners because they understand things happen and as wonderful as technology is, it is also subject to breakdown from time to time. We are grateful for the listeners who hang in there with us, through static and silence. I, too, am grateful in my own personal life for those who hang in there with me, through the static and silence.

Adulting

One morning recently my oldest redhead came into my room and said, "Mommy? You need to get up" and pulled the blankets off of me. Then she started up the shower and got a towel out for me. I laid there for another minute pouting. Then I groaned and got out of bed. FINE. I guess I need to be an adult today. 

Being an adult is not for the faint of heart, no wonder some people fight against it. You have to show up to a job and make money to pay bills and own your actions and words and a lot more! It's tough being an adult and it's tiring.  I'm exhausted from behaving like a grown-up for so long.  Sometimes I just want to lay down in my Grandma's lap and watch TV like I did when I wasn't yet a grown-up. I thought I had it rough then. Psh. 

I mean, sure, there are some perks to being an adult. Although outside of being able to drink legally 

I'm feeling a little hard pressed to come up with any perks right now. And let's face it, in order to keep adulting day after day I need to be able to drink some. *wink*

When I was graduating from High School, as the oldest redhead is about to do, all my classmates were so ready to be "adults."  I think I was the only one on graduation day in tears from fear rather than excitement.  I was perfectly fine as was, I did not think being an adult was going to be all that great - I mean, it came with a lot of responsibility and I was not ready for it.  Not at all. In fact, I'm still not ready for it.

It seems I'm not the only one who thinks this adulting gig is a joke. I read this article a while back and felt the comfort of solidarity. There are others like me. Others who think dusting is highly overrated and forgets to feed the family now and then (or in reality only feeds the family now and then). There are others who believed the deception of adulting being this wonderful thing and instead just want to crawl back into the blanket fort and resume coloring. I'm guessing Netflix was created by a bunch of exhausted adults who needed to create an acceptable form of escape. God bless them, whoever they are. 

My heart races, I break out in sweat, my mouth becomes a cotton field, the butterflies in my stomach transform into buzzing locusts. This is what happens when I am forced to remember that I am the adult in a situation or within a group of people and so I have to behave like it. And I'm never quite positive that I can pull it off, that I can successfully act like an adult, or think like one, I'm not sure I know how to speak like an adult, or even look like one. Isn't there someone else, anyone else, who can be the adult right now?  I might even be able to pay you - or feed you - or water you. I need an adultier adult. Anyone? Anyone? 

I've decided to be honest with my redheads about being an adult. I've let them experience the grind of adulting along with me, I haven't romanticized it in any way. They know they are going to have to adult at some point but they also know it is not all its cracked up to be. Someone thought I should be an adult and look where its gotten me. Exhausted, stressed, and disillusioned. Welcome my children to adult life, have fun - come cry on my shoulder anytime you want, I understand. 

I confess! Do you?

Therefore, confess your sins to one another [your false steps, your offenses], and pray for one another, that you may be healed and restored. The heartfelt and persistent prayer of a righteous man (believer) can accomplish much [when put into action and made effective by God—it is dynamic and can have tremendous power]. James 5:16 (amp)

She had asked me earlier that day if we could meet at the coffee shop. "I need to confess something to you, will you hear my confession?"
Whaaaa?
"Uh, sure?"
"Well you know in James it says that if we confess our sins to one another and pray for each other that we will be healed and I want to be healed. Will you hear me and pray for me?"
WHOA.
Mind. Blown. 

Yeah, I know what James says but nobody actually ever does it do they? But she did and does, and inspired me to work on doing the same.

I heard her, I prayed for her, and our relationship changed - it deepened, it entwined our hearts and we became inseparable in many ways. And yes, she was healed but through hearing her confession I too was set on a path of healing. Healing from the pride that kept me from being honest with people in my life about things in my life. Healing from shame that haunted me over my false steps and offenses committed - knowingly or unknowingly. I haven't arrived anywhere yet but I'm a lot more confessional than I used to be - with the people I know I can trust of course.

You don't just pick anyone to confess to. Okay, maybe in certain circumstances you do. Like when Donald Miller and his friends held confession at a carnival in college. (The true story and the movie version) But for the real personal stuff you pick someone you know will hear you, not judge you or rebuke you, will pray for you, will still love you (and perhaps love you even more), and will walk alongside of you as you seek to correct the words or actions that led to a division in a relationship or situation.

Confession has gotten a bad rap through the years. It's unfair to the many physical, emotional, and spiritual benefits confession offers. It's gotten a bad rap because humans are involved in it. Yes, us humans tend to muck it up with critical spirits, judgement, superiority, and sharing it with others when it was meant to be private. We've reduced it to saying a couple of key phrases so the ritual of it is complete. And that's the biggest muck up of all - we've reduced the practice of confession to a ritual. Anytime something is transformed into a ritual it loses the power it had.

I've been contemplating the spirituality of confession lately. Not the ritual of it but the lifestyle of it. Not all rituals are bad, but not all are good. I am guessing most started off with good intentions. But enter human nature and anything intended for good is then open to the possibility for mucking up. I should know, I'm a human and I've mucked up plenty of things. Confession transforms from a spiritual practice to a ritual when it becomes just one more thing to check off on "the list." You know what list I'm referring to correct? The "Spiritual To Do" List. You know, things like have a "quiet time", go to church on Sundays, put a five in the offering plate, etc. Most protestants don't have confession on their own list but most Catholics do. And one of the reasons protestants don't have confessional time built in to their "spiritual to do" list is because of the Catholics waaaaaaaaaaay back in the day. It had become a ritual in some churches and with some priests so kicking that ritual to the curb bumped it off the protestants to do lists. But just because some spoiled it doesn't mean it is bad, it just means humans mucked up a good thing...again.

When protestants kicked the practice of confession off the checklist for spirituality, the message became that confessing your sins, lacks, and flaws was a shameful thing to do in front of anyone but God. Wait, what about James 5:16? Oh that verse? Well James didn't actually mean it the way it's written.

Or did he?

I'm pretty sure he did. I'm pretty sure he meant it exactly as it is written. Dietrich Bonhoeffer happens to agree with me. *wink* In his book, Life Together: The Classic Exploration of Christian Community, Bonhoeffer makes the case for confession one to another:
A man who confesses his sins in the presence of a brother knows that he is no longer alone with himself; he experiences the presence of God in the reality of the other person. As long as I am by myself in the confession of my sins everything remains in the dark, but in the presence of a brother the sin has to be brought into the light... Our brother has been given me that even here and now I may be made certain through him of the reality of God in His judgment and His grace (p116).
....our confessions to God often are merely confessions to ourselves, and as a result we are living in self-forgiveness rather than in real forgiveness, and so the cycle of sin continues. But when we confess to a brother, we can be certain that we are not merely confessing to ourselves, but to God, represented to us by our brother. (source)

Where the protestant practice of confession would differ from the Catholic practice is in who hears the confession. Gleaning from Bonhoeffer yet again, "....in a Christian community, one person should not serve as the confessor for all the others. When that is the case, there is a danger that the work will become routine and thus an empty sham. Worse yet, there is the danger that it will become a source of spiritual domination." (source) This is one reason why people rebelled against confessional back in the day - to have one person know ALL is too much for any one person. It will break them down and compromise and complacency are sure to happen. God created us as relational beings, to share with one another - more than one person. Be wise about it, certainly, but don't allow just one person to hold all of your confidences, some aren't meant for certain people.

When I practice a "confessional" lifestyle people squirm. I find it kind of funny - which means then I do it a little more often. *wink* For example, a couple of weeks ago I spoke at a staff meeting. I shared my spiritual life story and parts of it were a confession to my co-workers, things I felt comfortable confessing even though I wonder if it's going to come back around like a boomerang. Here's a portion of my confessions:
My mind and heart were a tangled mess of fear, lies, and self-preservation. It was evident in any conflict that arose, every relationship I had, and how I interacted with authority in my life....
I’ve had to apologize to my redheads when I’ve sinned against them, my husband and I just came out of a really rocky period that lasted way longer than we would have liked, I still get tempted by fear of man over fear of God and have to fight that temptation, I struggle with my physical health, I can be too lazy....
Because I’m not finished I don’t behave right all the time and yet God, in his grace, invites me to take a walk to talk it through anyway. 
The room was VERY quiet, I sensed a lot of internal squirming going on...and surprise - surprise that I would be so bold as to be so honest.
In fact, I've made a confession within this post. Go back and see if you can find it (hint: it is italicized). Those all "count." I was confessional when a few months ago The Chief had to have a "hard talk" with me about an interaction I had with someone else in the organization. He was squirming at the confession he felt he needed to get out of me so I offered it up to ease his discomfort.  Ha! Our human nature kicks against saying or doing anything that we perceive makes us look weak, flawed, or rotten. But guess what? We are weak and flawed and some of us are really rotten. Once you can accept that about yourself, confessing when you've mucked up goes a lot smoother. It will still make others squirm but you won't even fidget.

Why are they squirming? Because they aren't at that point yet, the need to defend self is still stronger than the desire to live without a mask.  I get it and like I said earlier - I haven't arrived anywhere yet but I'm a lot further down the road than I used to be. Now I peek out from behind the mask and 'fess up when I know I need to. Note I said when I recognize I need to, not when someone tells me I need to. Listen, I know when I've mucked up. And I believe you know when you have mucked up. We don't need to be trying to force someone to confess just because what they did or said made us uncomfortable. Maybe we needed to feel some discomfort, let's not be too quick to dismiss that feeling either. So I'm quick to be honest about my flaws, weaknesses, moments of misbehavin'. I confessed to The Chief without him having to coerce me because I knew I had misbehaved a bit. I'll own my part of it. Listen, while it might be interesting to try and navigate around a big pink elephant in the room it really cuts into life. So 'fess up to your part of the pink elephant and reduce the tension in the room by your part at least. I've been mindful about this in my own life for awhile now and it's interesting to watch reactions and hear responses. There's always surprise, as if the person hearing my confession is taken aback that I know I misbehaved or I am overweight and being lazy about it or I treated them (or someone) poorly - to offer up a few examples (and confessions!). Did you just squirm when I mentioned those few examples? Why?

If you are ever in the position to hear someone's confession I implore you to treat it and the person with grace, and if *you* should ever approach someone to confess for healing I pray you are embraced with grace.

Let's allow grace to be our seasoning of choice with one another (Colossians 4:6) and be conduits of healing in each other's lives.

What are your thoughts on confession? Do you practice it on a regular basis or not? Who do you confess to? What kind of benefits have you experienced as a result of confession?

Go ahead, prove me wrong.

I have a character flaw. I know you are shocked but alas, I do. I default to defensiveness. I immediately jump to the defensive when I feel attacked on - well anything. I don't think I'm the only one with this flaw, I see it all around me every day. We all feel the need to defend ourselves - our work ethic, our choices, our beliefs, our theories, you name it we jump to a defense of it.  Have you ever watched someone get defensive over something?  It can be pretty ugly. The behavior that surfaces as a defense mechanism can be akin to the Hulk transforming from flesh to green. Guess what? You look like that too when you get defensive. Just sayin'. *wink*

The other day someone got defensive with me and instead of looking like the Hulk they looked like a dog marking its territory. I am not exaggerating. They did the equivalent of going around and peeing on things and people in an attempt to make a point. When I didn't respond then they turned into the Hulk.  I found it all to be rather exasperating and funny. But it got me to thinking about this default of defensiveness that so many of us seem afflicted with.  If we are so convinced that we are the right ones then why are we turning green and peeing on things?

Here's a profound idea: allow yourself to be proved wrong. Yep, you read that right. Open yourself up to be proved wrong on the theory, opinion, etc that you hold. Quit spending so much time trying to defend your position. If you are right then it can defend itself. So let others prove you wrong. And IF they can here's the next profound idea: allow yourself to concede and be open to a mind change. Yep, you read that right. Open yourself up to changing your mind, opinions, beliefs, theories, etc. I know, I know. It's a crazy idea but it just may be the best thing we can do for ourselves.

The fact is this: we are not right about every single thing we believe, feel, etc. We do not always behave rightly, we do not always speak rightly, we do not always treat others rightly. Why are we so hell bound (and I do believe certain forces of hell have something to do with this character flaw) on defending something that deep down we know to be wrong?  Is our need to "save face" so great that we are willing to defend even the things we know are wrong? Apparently so.

Listen, I'm speaking to myself first and foremost. Remember my confession above?  I know my flaws and I've worked hard at making sure I am mindful about the automatic default they lead me to. I have to keep myself in check more often than not. I have some other people in my life who also serve as a check. Sometimes they catch me defaulting before I can catch myself. In mid-transformation from flesh to green they jump in and keep me from going all the way.

Next time someone says or does something that makes you feel like lifting a leg to mark your territory or you feel the flesh changing to green stop. Take a deep breath, put your leg down, let your heartbeat come back to normal and be confident in the thing you feel is being attacked. Let the other person do the hard work of arguing a position and IF they are able to make you reconsider your own position that's okay. It's okay to change our minds. It's also okay to have different positions, beliefs, opinions and be friends. It is good for us to be challenged and to challenge and we don't need to pee on things or turn green to do it.

{shalom} revisited

Last year I decided to dedicate the calendar year to a word. I chose shalom, read about why here.
As I look back at the last year and review my thoughts on shalom it occurred to me that for a year dedicated to shalom I dealt with quite a bit of conflict! It's like when you pray for patience and then all you get are opportunities to practice having patience.

This focus on shalom seems to be a two-part process. The year 2015 was very revealing to me in terms of all the brokenness. God really opened my eyes and heart to see all the people and places that needed the healing touch of shalom. This included people and places in my personal and professional life. He started with me, of course. And he isn't done with me yet (Philippians 1:6). As I became aware of the need for shalom God started to show me what my role in bringing that about might be. That's what I think 2016 is. It's part two of the process.

In order to know how to introduce shalom I first need to know where it is needed and how much of a role I have been asked to have in it. Obviously for my personal life (marriage, motherhood, personal growth) the role I play is going to be a lot bigger than one I may play in my workplace or in my local community politics, etc. But I, and you, have a role to play in the business of shalom. Momma T said, "I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the waters to create many ripples." Each of us are a stone of shalom and when we allow ourselves to be cast across the waters we help create the ripples of shalom so desperately needed. Some of us are going to be bigger stones than others, some of us may only create one ripple that seems insignificant, others of us may only be cast at the beginning or end - not participating in the whole process.

The process of shalom takes many willing, and humble, hearts and hands to bring about wholeness and most of us will not be part of the entire process or may never even know the end results. That's the part of the shalom process I need to be okay with. I like to know the outcome, I like to know that what was wrong has been righted - what was upside-down is now right-side up - what was torn asunder has been put back together. But I don't always get to know the results, does that mean my role in the shalom process is any less valuable? No, it doesn't! For me or for you. Too often I allow the potential results to interfere with my role. I shrink back or half-ass it because I doubt the end results will be positive or that I will ever get to see the fruit of my participation. I need to get over myself. If I've been asked to be part of the process then I need to do it to the best of my ability and not concern myself with the results. Who knows what the ripples I cause end up doing? God does and that should be good enough for me.

The calendar changed from December 31 to January 1 but that doesn't mean that the process of shalom my heart is compelled to focus on just ceased due to a day, month, and year progression. It continues. Is there a word or a focus you've had in the past that you ended due to a year ending/beginning that perhaps God has continued to bring back up? Maybe it's time to revisit it.

Mind the Gap

If you ride the subway system in NYC or in London, probably the El in Chicago as well, an automated voice will warn passengers, "Mind the Gap."  Mind the gap between the train and the platform or else you may stumble in the gap and end up hurt.

Last time I was in the City and hearing the reminders about the gap it stuck with me but not in the literal sense. It pricked my awareness in the figurative, of course.

"Mind the Gap Beth."

Mind the Gap.

Mind the gap between pride and humility.
Mind the gap between confidence and complacency.
Mind the gap between fear of man and fear of God.
Mind the gap between entitlement and contentment.
Mind the gap between bearing and enabling.
Mind the gap between legalism and grace.
Mind the gap between forgiveness and grudges.

Mind the Gap.

When I don't mind the gap, I step into that in-between space and stumble. Sometimes I can recover from the stumble without any damage being done, other times damage happens and then I have to deal with the aftershocks of it. And dealing with the damage a stumble can cause is always painful - to me personally and sometimes, more often that not, to people around me. Being negligent around the gap causes a ripple effect. When I stumble and fall I rarely take only myself down, others go with me. But when I'm mindful it means that not only am I looking out for myself, I'm looking out for others.

What kind of gaps do you need to be mindful of in this life?  I've listed a few that I think all people can relate to. Perhaps there are personal ones as well, there are for me. Let's all help each other and mind the gap.

The Threat of Patch Adams

The hub and I recently watched [again] Patch Adams. This time I saw it with many more years of life lived and even a new perspective on the world.
Conflict happens when Patch and Dean Walcott clash over Patch's untraditional practices, methods, and ideas about healing.The conflict between Adams and Walcott highlights a relevant problem in our culture, people who choose to go against the flow of "how it's done" are seen as rebellious, disrespectful, and lazy. In reality most of those people are passionate, hardworking, and compassionate. They aren't actually rebellious but appear to be so because they are kicking against the goads of society's rules.  They aren't actually disrespectful but are accused of being so because they have a different perspective they are exploring how to live out. They aren't lazy but seem so because the methods they are trying don't fall into the structures already set up and thought to be "the right [only] way."

Another interesting problem that the movie highlights is the one of threat. Walcott, although he would never admit it, was threatened by Patch's ability to connect with humans, to see beyond the obvious, to heal them outside of traditional methods.  This was a threat to Walcott who had been taught to stay in the lines. Perhaps the threat also triggered a bit of jealousy deep within.  If Walcott had any dreams about making a change in the world they had been stifled long ago and Adams wasn't willing to allow himself or his ideas to be stifled or silenced.

Adams rubbed Walcott the wrong way. He was never going to "win" with Walcott.

Can you relate?
Are you an Adams and you have a Walcott in your life?
Or, be honest, are you a Walcott and there is an Adams in your life?

I can relate. In fact, I didn't realize how much I could relate until I watched the movie again. There's a coworker relationship I have that has me walking in the shoes of Patch Adams and the coworker wearing the pants of Dean Walcott. And it is t.o.u.g.h. I'm never going to "win" with Walcott.

I decided this past week, after yet another very rough week dealing with my Walcott, that the core issue is threat. My Walcott behaves as if the things I do around the office are a threat to them professionally and personally. It is brain boggling.

Let me outline a few of my offenses according to my Walcott:

My Walcott was out on vacation and their boss needed something that couldn't wait and asked me to do it. So I did. How dare I? 

This Adams has decided the office needs as much morale boosting as possible so in light of that this Adams has hosted an office version of Dinovember, provides a stress relief room filled with laughter and good chocolate for the stressful and long pledge drives our organization holds three times a year, decorates the pledge drive phone zones in different themes for a little bit of fun, surprises the office with fun treats every now and then. How dare I? 

There's more, almost daily my Walcott is on my case about something - those are just a few examples. This past week was a circus theme at work for our year end pledge drive. One day I handed out to all the employees, whether they work the pledge drive or not, a treat box with various "circus themed" treats. This Adams was having a great time handing them out and getting some smiles from some coworkers that I hadn't seen smile all week. (It's the little things people, which is another lesson from the life of Patch Adams.) My Walcott came up to me, literally poked me in the chest (I've got a witness), and said, "You are a child. You are ridiculous" and started to walk away. Walcott was not teasing me (remember I've got a witness). I replied back, "Hey Jesus told us to be like the children..." to which Walcott harshly, and almost with anger, retorted, "He didn't mean this" and stomped off. My crime?  I gave my Walcott a circus themed box of treats.  How dare I?

Just like Dean Walcott complained about Patch Adam's unusual and non-traditional methods of practicing medicine, my Walcott also complains about my methods of getting my work done and how I interact with my own boss (The Chief) and others. Apparently my Walcott believes this Adams breaks some archaic code regarding work and interactions. My Walcott has actually told me outright that I am rebellious because I do something differently than how they would.  Seriously.  It's a head scratcher for sure.

What Patch Adams reminds me of is persistence. He never caved to Walcott's unreasonable demands and behavior. He never allowed Walcott to break his spirit or his goal to practice medicine. I confess I'm not as thick-skinned as Patch was with Walcott. My Walcott has hurt my feelings, made me cry, driven me to drink (not even joking), and pushed me to the edge of an anger I rarely feel. Not a week goes by that I don't eagerly anticipate the weekend so that I can have a two day break from my Walcott. And when my Walcott goes on vacation? Bliss. But Patch reminds me to stand my ground. I'm reminded to not cave to Walcott's behavior which only serves to enable it. Patch reminds me to stay strong in spirit. My Walcott is not stronger than I am. Patch also didn't deviate from his goal to practice medicine his way. If he had, a lot of people would have missed out on healing. I should not let my Walcott's sour attitude make me deviate from my goal of boosting office moral or practicing my work ethic the way I do. If I allow my Walcott to distract me from who I really am, then I think that there will be some people who miss out on something I have to help them.

Patch Adams also serves as a reminder to me about Walcott. Don't be a Dean Walcott in life! What a miserable way to live. If you have seen the movie then you may recall that a smile probably would have broken Walcott's face in half. There's more than one way to do something, be flexible and open-minded. Don't allow jealousy to be the motivation for action or lack of action. And it's never, ever, ever too late to jump out of the pants of Dean Walcott and into the shoes of Patch Adams.


For more on Patch Adams and his Institute click here. 

The Cost of Betrayal {Epilogue}

{If you missed parts 1 & 2 you'll want to click here}

Yes, what about the others?  

What about the Pastor, and his wife, that screwed me over?

What about my husband, whom I haven't mentioned much at all?

What about the Good 'ole Boys Club who choose to look the other way?

What about me?  Did I stay at the church?  Of course not, right?  Or did I? 

The saying is, "Karma's a bitch" and there's some truth in that. I don't know about karma, per se, but I do know that we don't get away with bad behavior and treating people poorly. It eventually catches up to us and when it does...watch out.  It's going to bitch slap you.* The thing I've had to work through is the way it has come back around on the various people who participated in my collision with betrayal.  It hasn't always been in the way I would have chosen but in ways that were more, well, God. *grin*

But let's catch up on my hub, because clearly he wasn't a betrayer. 

I drove home that day in shock.  Rather dangerous as I have zero memory of the drive and how I even managed to safely get home. I walked in the door and all my hub had to do was look at my face. And then he transformed. At that time we had been married about 11 years and in all our years together I had never seen him with such emotion.  He flushed, his fists clenched and he started for the door. "I'm going to go knock on his door and on his face." I stopped him. I didn't want to but I did anyway because I knew we were going to have to be the bigger people here. I knew how we chose to respond was going to be watched and scrutinized and I was determined to make sure we stayed innocent in this mess. In the next few days he had several phone conversations with the Pastor. He stomped around the house, sweating and angry while his wife (that's me) cried and cowered in figurative corners, unsure of what to do.  We didn't even need to talk about the accusations of inappropriate feelings or relationship between Pastor and I.  My hub knew me and knew that there was no way an ounce of truth existed about that. In the next few months, yes months, my hub was with me at any meeting that happened and he even held a couple of his own. He wouldn't back down and he wouldn't let the Pastor and any of his buddies off the hook.  He relentlessly pursued truth on my behalf.  I sat home on the couch in stunned silence most of the time. He was God's provision of Psalm 91 to me, which years before I had asked God to give me a man that could be his earthly representation on that in my life. And my hub rose to the occasion. 

Be careful of what you plant and water.

The Pastor, and his wife, got away with it for a season. My hub did back him into a corner I bet the Pastor didn't know existed and got him to admit he had wronged me on some level.  It was the most we were going to get from him so we took it. To this day he and his wife have never come to my hub and I seeking sincere forgiveness and confessing their sin against me. They have maintained their self-righteous attitude and the two pages of neatly typed lies they created about me. It certainly created some awkward moments in the months after that when we did run into each other. More awkward for him than me but still awkward. 

The Good 'ole Boys. Ah, yes them. Well there were two that played a crucial part in the whole betrayal.  The senior Pastor and another Pastor on staff then.*  And their behavior is part of the debt of betrayal I live with. It took me 5 years to go back to those men and confront the shame they had attempted to cover me in and stand up for myself. FIVE YEARS. *I walked through the doors of the church with my husband at my side. We sat in two offices that day and with both men I stood up for myself and truth as I should have done 5 years prior.  I presented evidence to refute the lies they believed about me, I confronted them on their own choices regarding the treatment of me, I gave them the full story rather than let the half-story sit out there and continue to distort truth. I could do this because regret had no hold on me and shame was not my name.  Some would say, "You waited five years?  Sheesh, couldn't you just let it go?" The answer is no. No, I could not let it go because God would not let it go.  And if I had not followed God's timing on the when and where of standing up for truth I would have new regrets to deal with. I do my best to avoid having regrets. Guess what?  The timing, five years later, was perfect.  Both men were in a place to hear me and to seek restoration with me. Freedom, for me and I hope for them, happened that day. 

And me? Well by this point you may have figured out that I stayed, we stayed, at that church until I was released by God. And our continued presence, and service, made some people very uncomfortable. Some women started avoiding me (gee, perhaps because they started the rumor?!), the Pastor and his wife tried to ignore me but yet 'stalk' me at the same time (it was weird and unnerving), the senior Pastor from time to time would ask me why I had stayed and exclaim disbelief that anyone would after how I had been treated (clearly he wasn't putting all the dots together...), but then another Pastor took me under his wing and with him I went to Africa twice and helped head up a couple of different ministries in the church. I was even asked to teach at one of the women's retreats (and I did teach, on fear of man and people pleasing). All the while waiting to be released. It took 5 years for release to happen for me personally. The hub just left that church for good last year. 

People, many many people, thought I was crazy to stay. Oh believe me, I begged God to give me release but he held out until the right time. While I stayed and waited the Pastor dug some deep holes of his own and quit before he was let go.   But I was still there. It's important to note that I could have started up the bulldozer and dug his holes for him a bit quicker but I didn't. I didn't give in to that desire to seek revenge or *help* truth get exposed. I stayed quiet, I stayed away from him, and I let him dig his own hole.  This bit of wisdom became my mantra and something I still try to practice to this day, "Do not retaliate with evil, regardless of the evil brought against you. Try to do what is good and right and honorable as agreed upon by all people. If it is within your power, make peace with all people. Again, my loved ones, do not seek revenge; instead, allow God’s wrath to make sure justice is served. Turn it over to Him. For the Scriptures say, “Revenge is Mine. I will settle all scores.” But consider this bit of wisdom: “If your enemy is hungry, give him something to eat. If he is thirsty, give him something to drink; because if you treat him kindly, it will be like heaping hot coals on top of his head.” Never let evil get the best of you; instead, overpower evil with the good." Guess what I have discovered?  That wisdom, when practiced and applied, works! And it keeps the one practicing it in a clear conscience and with a peace that no human could possibly ever understand on their own. So I let him dig his own hole.  

When God gave me release it was a relief. I didn't leave in a huff, I didn't leave in the early stages of wounding, I didn't even leave with any emotion at all. I just left. I left stronger, I left healthier emotionally and spiritually, I left having found my voice again. Such a burden lifted the moment I knew I could leave.  

The cost of betrayal is high but I'm paying down the debt as I can. Are you living in a deficit due to betrayal? Start paying down that debt, you won't regret it. 

* I know. That seems and/or sounds harsh right?  Well betrayal is harsh and the consequences of it are going to be harsh also. 

* Gasp. Beth, did you just 'name' the other participants? Yep. Is there a reason I shouldn't have? Hiding and/or continuing to cover for people doesn't do anyone any good when all is said and done. I'm not naming actual names or even the church so let's all just breathe. 

*This excerpt is taken from a post I wrote about regrets. 

The Cost of Betrayal {Part 2}

{If you missed part 1 click here}

My current boss, I like to call him The Chief these days, is the first male boss I have had and been willing to have since the collision with betrayal 10 years ago.  

When I interviewed for the position a couple of years ago and realized, in the middle of the interview, that he was a he and he would be the first male boss I had since the whole collision my heart paused. I wasn't sure I could have a male boss again. It suddenly felt more raw than it had in a long time. So I had to step back and think. 

If I was going to take the chance again with a male boss a few things were clear.

1) The Chief wasn't the Pastor. Two totally different men. 2) Whatever distrust I had regarding the Pastor I could not transfer to The Chief, that wasn't fair to him. 3) I was stronger now 8 years later than I was then, 8 years prior. I didn't believe in enabling bad behavior under the guise of God or Pastor title (or any title actually) and I didn't believe that I did not have important things to say. 4) I believed more than ever in my gift of discernment as it hadn't let me down yet. I had let it down but not in 8 years and I wasn't about to make that mistake again. 5) Boundaries will need to be established that I stick to, and insist on, no matter what.  

I took the job. 

I got some counsel from my hub and friends who had walked the road of betrayal with me 8 years prior. They helped me establish the boundaries I would personally need and reminded me of the facts - Chief wasn't Pastor so don't make him pay for the Pastor's sins. Trusting a male boss again can work out.

The Chief isn't the Pastor. It was quickly apparent that Chief was way healthier emotionally and spiritually than the Pastor. For example, he knew boundaries were appropriate and important. Over the past 2 plus years of working together we have learned about each other, learned to trust one another, and we've never had any boundary issues. It has been a healing experience for me personally. He has given me space to use my voice and share opinions. He has defended me and he has asked me for "my side" of any conflict that has popped up in the workplace.  He has allowed me to say hard (and perhaps harsh) things and not 'punished' me for them but instead worked with me to get to the core of what I'm saying. He has been a part of the redemption*, unknowingly, of the situation from 10 years ago.  I love the truth of Joel 2:25, "I will repay you for the years the locusts have eaten...." It sounds a little dramatic but the fallout from betrayal can eat up years of an abundant life. Yet God stays true to his word, he pays us back for those lost years and then some.  

The Chief and I, June 2015. 

He's not perfect, neither am I. But he's always more than willing to admit to his mess-ups, imperfections, and sins. I am too. He's helped the wounds of the betrayal scab over and toughen me up and the best part? He hasn't tried to do that, he just did by being who he is. 

So why was I standing in his office this past week unsuccessfully swallowing back tears? 

Prompted by our hard - but okay - conversation, betrayal came for a little visit. It sat down and started to unpack its baggage. 

"Maybe I just care too much." And saying that I got up to leave before the uncontrollable sob that was threatening to escape came out. Asked for more of an explanation I brought up *The God Card.* Chief disagreed with me and that sob kept creeping up to burst out. I was doing my best to keep it contained. I was failing. I also couldn't quite figure out what was going on with me.  Why was I feeling this conversation so deeply? My answer was 100% accurate but there was more to it. I just couldn't get there on my own.  

About an hour after we both had recovered from the conversation, i.e. I had finally quit crying dammit, Chief walked by my desk and we fist bumped. 

All was well with us.  

But not all was well with me. 

I left a voice message for a friend who knew me back then, back when the collision between myself and betrayal happened. She was also on the church staff at the time. She heard I had quit voluntarily but she also saw me and heard what I was not saying. It was clear something wasn't right. It took a few years for her to find out the full story about that time and, she knows this, for a season I wasn't sure that I could trust her.  The betrayal threw me into a tailspin of distrust of everyone at the church, especially the church staff. I had no idea what women had started the rumor so I didn't know if she could be one of them. It turns out she wasn't, but it wasn't until a couple of years ago that I could even share the details of the collision with her. So I left her a message the day of the meltdown in Chief's office. And this was part of her response, "You were really screwed by a male boss and authority figure and while that happened a while ago you were deeply betrayed and deep betrayal like that can really jack with you....It makes perfect sense that you are struggling so much because there is no way that the deep betrayal and not just the betrayal but the other stuff too, there is no way that it did not leave its mark on you and that its mark did not leave some triggers...." 

Gee, thanks friend because now I'm sobbing - uncontrollably - again. 

Except this time I knew why I was crying. My experience, my hurt, my struggles to trust, my sensitivity to bad behavior, every abuse and bullying I endured at the hands of the Pastor and the woman interloper wasn't being discounted, dismissed, or excused away. It was being acknowledged, heard, and seen. Still, after 10 years, validation of what was done to me is important it seems. (Who knew? Because I sure didn't!)  

"....and now as I'm talking out loud of course this all goes back to the church and the Pastor. Dammit!" And that's when it hit me in a different way than it has before. 

The cost of betrayal is high. It is so high that the debt it creates can be paid down but I'm not sure it can ever be fully paid off. I found myself, post-collision, in a deficit. Every part of my life experienced fallout from the collision with betrayal, which means the fallout touched other people as well.  In short it sucked. It really sucked. 

I've had to fight really hard, emotionally and spiritually, to pay down some of the debt and not live out of the deficit it created. I've done the work of forgiveness and healing and it hasn't been easy. About a month after the betrayal I climbed out of my bed and went to go see a counselor. I am a counselor and I knew I needed some help if I was ever going to recover from this collision. I took the two pages of neatly typed shame to her and when she asked me why I wanted counseling I handed her the pages and said, "Here's why. I need to know what's true and what's not." She glanced down at the pages, read perhaps one sentence, looked up at me and calmly balled the pages into a crumpled bit of trash. "These are lies. Now tell me what happened and let's get to the truth." And so the debt began to get paid down. Yet the cost of my betrayal remains high at times and one of those times happened this past week in the office of The Chief. 

When betrayal and I met face to face I was made to feel as if my gift of discernment and my skills with counseling people were wrong and somehow inappropriate. And I believed it for about 2 days. For months prior I had been discerning several things but every time I brought up my concerns they, and I, were dismissed. So it's hard for me to not equate betrayal and being dismissed. I know they aren't the same but they have the same feeling to my heart and my psyche. As Chief and I had our hard - but okay - conversation I was feeling dismissed underneath all that was being said. I was taking a chance and sharing what my discernment was picking up on and was getting some pushback. And pushback and being dismissed aren't the same or equal either but try telling a scabbed over heart that. You can't. You have to let the heart figure it out and come to terms with it.  That's when you hope that some more of the debt has been paid down and the deficit betrayal causes rises a bit. 

Ten years later and I'm standing. I survived, I have even thrived.  I have done more work for God and his people since being told I couldn't. Thank goodness God didn't listen to Pastor and his buddies! *wink* This past week betrayal tried to unpack its baggage and settle back in to my life but fortunately I babbled and cried to a friend who was able to help me pay down some more of the debt betrayal has wracked up in my life.  So that's where the deficit ends between myself and The Chief. 

But what about the others? Was there any debt paid down with them? 

*These posts (click here and here) speak to other ways God has redeemed the collision with betrayal, he sent me to Africa less than a year after it happened! Yes, me - who wasn't fit for God or his people. *wink*

*And this post is about a man that God started using almost right away post-betrayal to begin redemption in regards to male leadership outside of my husband. 

Click here for the Epilogue