I realize that the odds of this blog being read are very slim, but I must say that clicking the "Post" button on my first entry was a little exciting!
Oh sure, I've written a few letters to the editor for the local rag in years past, but personal thoughts? My personal thoughts, court documents and declarations, and journals were all burned over the course of several days. I tried burning too large of a bundle the first day and a neighbor came over to see if the house was on fire, so I had to drag the process out. I was embarrassed because A. The fireplace was outside and B. It was hot out and the middle of the day. All the torments of hell were burned up. Probably about 300 pounds of documents. I had toyed with the idea of writing a book but the thought of the kids and I reliving all that pain changed my mind. Plus, some of the Post Traumatic stuff has erased parts of my memory so it would be a little sketchy.
In a way I want to start over. I have dear Christian friends, but honestly, I don't think they loved me for me. I think they considered me their ministry. That's not a bad thing, and I appreciated their kindness, but I want friends who seek me out for fellowship. When I spent time with them I felt like I was being interviewed. In the beginning, when I didn't realize their intent, it felt good to reach out for help and prayer. Slowly, I realized they were fascinated more by the juicy details of my life, and less by my friendship. It sure hurt.
I have only one 100-Fold friend. She loves me for me and she enjoys my company. When something dreadful happens to either of us, we don't care if the other gives details. We just care about the pain, the testing of God, and praying for each other. Occasionally, we'll even stop mid-story and pray in the restaurant. More often than not, we realize that people in the surrounding booths are eavesdropping, so we've learned to paraphrase and speak in low tones! I must say that I find it irritating when people listen to our private conversations.
Recently I did a study of Elijah and Elisha. I enjoy reading about people who don't fit into mainstream Christianity. Somehow it makes me feel better. I find comfort in reading about those who have suffered far worse, it makes my life seem more manageable. Corrie Ten Boom, Holocust books, and Uncle Tom's Cabin, to name a few. Ms. Ten Boom and her sister, Betsy, suffered horrible injustices and maintained great faith in God. Inspirational. Lots of people suffer, but God can work it for good if we'll let Him. The secret is not to become bitter. If you think that's easy, then you haven't suffered unjustly.
My trials would have been easier if I wasn't such a men-pleaser. If you met me you would find that I am normal, kind, even-tempered, a little boring (by worldly standards), but the spirit of God that resides in me puts people off. That has been very difficult for me. In high school I was voted "Most Funny." I love to laugh, love chatting with people, and even though I know the situation is spiritual, I must be honest and say that I am always a little disappointed when I am not well received or worse, rejected. The worldly people seem to accept me more readily than the mainstream Christian. At work I don't even discuss my beliefs, but the non-believers seem to sense it and share their struggles with me. Years ago I bought packs of index cards that were bound together by spiral wire. I decided to make my own pack of verses that were specifically encouraging or relevant to me (rather than the store-bought kind). One card is from Psalm 38:11: My friends and companions avoid me because of my wounds; my neighbors stay far away.
Most Christians don't want to fellowship with a Job-like Christian. It's messy. But in their defense, they can't understand, God hasn't called them to extreme suffering, how can we fault them for wanting to avoid us? I call them "God's Flowers." Pretty to look at, smell nice, delicate, and often seasonal. I can't be mad at a baby for childish actions, why be judgmental towards people who God decided should be "Flowers." If I lived in a country that radically persecuted Christians, perhaps there wouldn't be such a wide-gap between believers, but a large range exists among Christian types in America.
If only I had figured this out years ago. I could have escaped a lot of self-pity and frustration. Now I look at like this: If a person doesn't find me interesting, than God is sparing me from having to hang around them! It turned out to be so true. Even though there are not many who understand the sufferings of Christ, there sure are some gems in the Christian world. I may not be queen of the Bunco crowd, but I am greatly blessed to be friends with some of God's jewels.
Oh sure, I've written a few letters to the editor for the local rag in years past, but personal thoughts? My personal thoughts, court documents and declarations, and journals were all burned over the course of several days. I tried burning too large of a bundle the first day and a neighbor came over to see if the house was on fire, so I had to drag the process out. I was embarrassed because A. The fireplace was outside and B. It was hot out and the middle of the day. All the torments of hell were burned up. Probably about 300 pounds of documents. I had toyed with the idea of writing a book but the thought of the kids and I reliving all that pain changed my mind. Plus, some of the Post Traumatic stuff has erased parts of my memory so it would be a little sketchy.
In a way I want to start over. I have dear Christian friends, but honestly, I don't think they loved me for me. I think they considered me their ministry. That's not a bad thing, and I appreciated their kindness, but I want friends who seek me out for fellowship. When I spent time with them I felt like I was being interviewed. In the beginning, when I didn't realize their intent, it felt good to reach out for help and prayer. Slowly, I realized they were fascinated more by the juicy details of my life, and less by my friendship. It sure hurt.
I have only one 100-Fold friend. She loves me for me and she enjoys my company. When something dreadful happens to either of us, we don't care if the other gives details. We just care about the pain, the testing of God, and praying for each other. Occasionally, we'll even stop mid-story and pray in the restaurant. More often than not, we realize that people in the surrounding booths are eavesdropping, so we've learned to paraphrase and speak in low tones! I must say that I find it irritating when people listen to our private conversations.
Recently I did a study of Elijah and Elisha. I enjoy reading about people who don't fit into mainstream Christianity. Somehow it makes me feel better. I find comfort in reading about those who have suffered far worse, it makes my life seem more manageable. Corrie Ten Boom, Holocust books, and Uncle Tom's Cabin, to name a few. Ms. Ten Boom and her sister, Betsy, suffered horrible injustices and maintained great faith in God. Inspirational. Lots of people suffer, but God can work it for good if we'll let Him. The secret is not to become bitter. If you think that's easy, then you haven't suffered unjustly.
My trials would have been easier if I wasn't such a men-pleaser. If you met me you would find that I am normal, kind, even-tempered, a little boring (by worldly standards), but the spirit of God that resides in me puts people off. That has been very difficult for me. In high school I was voted "Most Funny." I love to laugh, love chatting with people, and even though I know the situation is spiritual, I must be honest and say that I am always a little disappointed when I am not well received or worse, rejected. The worldly people seem to accept me more readily than the mainstream Christian. At work I don't even discuss my beliefs, but the non-believers seem to sense it and share their struggles with me. Years ago I bought packs of index cards that were bound together by spiral wire. I decided to make my own pack of verses that were specifically encouraging or relevant to me (rather than the store-bought kind). One card is from Psalm 38:11: My friends and companions avoid me because of my wounds; my neighbors stay far away.
Most Christians don't want to fellowship with a Job-like Christian. It's messy. But in their defense, they can't understand, God hasn't called them to extreme suffering, how can we fault them for wanting to avoid us? I call them "God's Flowers." Pretty to look at, smell nice, delicate, and often seasonal. I can't be mad at a baby for childish actions, why be judgmental towards people who God decided should be "Flowers." If I lived in a country that radically persecuted Christians, perhaps there wouldn't be such a wide-gap between believers, but a large range exists among Christian types in America.
If only I had figured this out years ago. I could have escaped a lot of self-pity and frustration. Now I look at like this: If a person doesn't find me interesting, than God is sparing me from having to hang around them! It turned out to be so true. Even though there are not many who understand the sufferings of Christ, there sure are some gems in the Christian world. I may not be queen of the Bunco crowd, but I am greatly blessed to be friends with some of God's jewels.
