Forgiveness? Again?

Seems like the theme of this weekend for some of us was “Forgiveness”. Sunday morning I almost didn’t go to church because my head hurt. I know, a simple headache isn’t that big of a deal but don’t you remember I fell down seven concrete steps just 8 weeks ago and fractured my skull…cut me some slack! LOL! However, I got up and got ready in record time and I’m so glad I did. NO, the fact that I went to church doesn’t mean I’m a “good” Christian. (I’ve found through the years that the only thing mere church attendance is good for is to enhance my feelings of self righteousness. After all, it’s part of being a “good” pastor’s wife to attend church but that’s another story. Let’s get back to “FORGIVENESS”. I’m so glad I went to worship yesterday because God had a little something to say to me about my unforgiving attitude. You see, I’m not always a forgiving person. Sometimes I hold on to a grudge as if it were my life raft in the middle of the ocean. And I’d been nursing a “certain” grudge for almost a year like a mother nursing a hungry newborn. So, imagine my angst when my husband got up and began to preach on the very subject I’ve been so creatively avoiding…FORGIVENESS. And then as if THAT wasn’t enough, a friend walked up to me after the service and shared that she had been in a women’s group the day before and FORGIVENESS was the theme. “Yeah, yeah, that’s good,” I thought, ”Wasn’t God good to reinforce His message to HER!” Sticking a sheet of paper in my face, she gave me some information on forgiveness she had received from Saturday’s speaker. It was later in the day when I realized God was really speaking loud and clear to me. It was time for me to stop acting like a wounded animal and forgive. I’d prayed during the sermon, asking God to “help me to forgive” and now I had the “how to” right in my grimy little hands. Isn’t that so like Him? He not only told me to forgive, He provided the practical application of HOW to forgive (in written form no less)! The bottom line is this: When Jesus hung on the cross HE taught us how to forgive. Looking down at the angry, jeering, self righteous crowd He said, “Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they’re doing.”

The Fall

15 That is why they stand before God's throne and serve him day and night in his temple. He who sits on the throne will protect them with his presence. Revelation 7:15 (Good News Bible) It began as one of those once in a lifetime trips...my siblings, sister in law and me in NYC for a long weekend.  The plan was to celebrate my sister, Cathy's, 50 birthday.  The first part of the trip was fantastic. On the first day alone we managed to cram a trip to Chinatown for some great "fake" designer purses, sunglasses and watches where we heard a group of Chinese gentlemen playing the music of their forefathers in the park.  Then we canvassed Little Italy and had the best pizza I've ever put in my mouth.  Next we caught the subway and what an experience that was (complete with hustlers trying to "help" us out by asking us if with like to use their boot legged metro cards, we declined of course!).  We were crammed inside the subway car literally cheek to cheek (both kinds of cheeks!) and given the ride of our lives.  Finally, we went to Ground Zero which was extremely moving and a very sobering experience.  After a little rest, we hit Time Square for supper and just to simply take in the lights, people and excitement in the heart of city at night.  Not bad for the first day! But, oh, what a difference a day makes!  Sunday morning my sisters and I were headed down to the lobby to meet my brother and his wife for another day of sightseeing that included a Broadway play. We had been taking the stairs in the hotel because we didn't want to wait for the elevator (which by the way, was the only  slow moving thing in NYC!).  On this day, I was dressed in sensible shoes, the kind with non skid bottoms and lots of good arch support and a very small purse because who wants to lug a big handbag through the city? I was being careful, sensible, even acting my age for change. We went down the stairs in a line and I made sure to hold on to the railing because I'm not getting any younger, you know?  And then it happened, all at once I realized I was falling down seven concrete steps face first.  There was absolutely nothing I could do to stop myself. I vaguely remember trying to regrasp the handrails. I vaguely remember the tumbling feeling. I vaguely remember thinking, "This is bad."  At the bottom of the steps, I rolled over and opened my eyes to the horrified stares of my two younger sisters and thought, "I must be going to die because they look really scared...please don't look at me that way."  I also had a sense of wanting to reassure them that I wasn't going to die and so I said, "I'm okay, I'm okay!"  Of course, I wasn't okay but I was alive and at that moment it was all that mattered.  In the next few seconds, my brother, sister in law and hotel staff burst into the stairwell and I have to say, the look on my brother's face didn't make me feel any better.  My sister, Cathy, was yelling "Call 911!"  "Get me some ice!" (she's a nurse) and I realized just how bad my situation was.  I lifted my hand and felt my head and it felt as if I had a huge, hard, soccer ball where my forehead was supposed to be.  I realized I was bleeding from somewhere.  It didn't take but just a few minutes before the ambulance arrived and I was taken to the hospital but before the EMTs arrived, my dear dear brother had the presence of mind to say, "Let's just pray."  David, Cathy, Carole and Tami gathered around me, touching me and we closed our eyes and called on our Heavenly Father.  I don't remember what David prayed.  It doesn't matter.  What matters is that in the midst of shock, trauma, and fear, God was there and He was in control.  Obviously, I didn't die or I wouldn't be writing this but I'll tell you this much, even if I had, God would have still been there in that stairwell on Sunday morning, August 19, 2012 with all of us.  For that, I am eternally grateful.

On death and dying...

I never thought I’d come to the place in life where I’d think so much about death. As the years go by, death becomes more and more real. I don’t mean that I dwell on dying more…I’m just reminded more and more often that death is a reality. Even ten years ago, in my middle 40’s, I was reminded on many occasions of death but here I am ten years later and it’s very real to me. Until my precious Mama (my grandmother) died last year at the beautiful age of 97, I had the idea that people live long lives. But in reality some do and some don’t. Over the past several years I’ve lost family and friends who I had assumed would be in my life until the end or almost the end. And I miss them. I miss my nephew, Nick who was just 20 when he died. I miss seeing his big gentle self coming through the door at family dinners. I miss his slightly Yankee accent and the way he never got in a hurry. I miss my grandmother, Essie. I miss the way she smelled (like Estee Lauder Youth Dew) and I miss the way her house smelled. I know it may sound strange but sometimes when I walk into my own home, it smells like her house. Honestly, sometimes I even smell her and I wonder if she’s nearby. It comforts me and saddens me at the same time. I also miss my father in law. I miss hearing my husband on the phone talking to his dad about the Gamecocks or a certain politician. I miss his wisdom and his sense of humor and how he appreciated my cooking! I miss my other grandparents, too. I also miss my friends, Eddie and Mike. Eddie and Mike were fellow friends and members of our church. Eddie couldn’t sing a lick but loved to sing out to God in praise with his hands lifted high. I miss hearing him call me “darlin”. And Sunday’s weren’t complete without a big old sloppy kiss from Mike. Sunday’s will never be complete again. And as the years continue to go by, I know I will miss others. Life has changed over the past few years. It seems like it’s going by faster and faster. It seems like I long more and more for eternity and yet, I find myself grasping to experience everything I can here. I look at my children and grandchildren wondering where the years have gone. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and turn to see my husband lying beside me and I think, “who is that gray haired man beside me? I look at him and realize we’re on a time table and what has been so taken for granted for so long is transient. I don’t like these thoughts and feelings. I’m the type of person who wants to be positive. But is thinking about death really negative? Somehow, I think it would be foolish to not ever think about or ponder death. After all…death is the one reality from which we cannot escape. And it’s in thinking of death that carry my thoughts to God… Jesus put it this way, 1“ Do not let your heart be troubled; [believe in God, believe also in Me. 2 In My Father’s house are many dwelling places; if it were not so, I would have told you; for I go to prepare a place for you. 3 If I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also. 4 And you know the way where I am going.” 5 Thomas *said to Him, “Lord, we do not know where You are going, how do we know the way?” 6 Jesus *said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but through Me. John 14:1-6

Announcing New Weight Loss Program!

Well, I may have stumbled on to a new weight loss program…It’s called Facebook and Curves! On the F & C Program, you simply video yourself every day upon leaving Curves and post it on Facebook!

Seriously, the F & C Program is keeping me honest! For instance, last night when I ate two mini (too many – lol) of my newly concocted lemon cream cheese mini cupcakes, I felt compelled to announce it (confess it, if you will) to my friends on FB. I was met with a variety of responses that were both encouraging and helpful. I was able to resist the temptation to do what I usually do and eat several more. And when I overslept this morning, instead of using it as an excuse to skip my exercise program, I realized that someone just may be waiting for my daily report on FB so I’d better drag my big behind out of bed and get moving! I simply was not going to have to confess laziness after confessing I’d eaten those little cupcakes!

I’m sure there’s a psychologist out there that has the answer as to why the F & C Program is working for me. I probably have some deep narcissistic neurosis lurking in my subconscious and maybe, someday, I’ll fall on over the edge but frankly, I don’t care. The F & C is working! I’m motivated to live a healthy lifestyle. I feel better physically. I feel better about myself. And one day soon, I’m going to look better!

So, here’s to living every day to it’s fullest…whatever it takes!

The Struggle Continues...

As much as I enjoy life, I have to confess that sometimes life is struggle. There are so many things to overcome. I try to be honest with myself and with others but there are some areas of my personal struggle that are hard to confess. I'm sure it says something about my personality,emotional make up and general psyche that I even feel the need to share and confess some very personal areas of me. I'll leave that to those of you who are qualified to do so and hope that the rest of you will be able to relate in some way to my ramblings.

Tomorrow morning I have an appointment with my local Curves. Now on the surface, maybe this doesn't sound like much of a struggle or like much a of confession but to me it is. I've decided that one way I may keep myself motivated to do something really good for myself like get healthy, is to chronicle the process step by step. So get ready, I'm about to confess one of my biggest secrets...my weight! Since turning 40 quite a few years ago, I've begun to struggle with my weight. I've never been a big exerciser. I'd rather be baking, cooking, or decorating but in the past...hummmmmmmmmmmm, another confession here, 15 years I've put on a lot of weight. In fact, I've put on about 40 lbs. For woman of my height and build (I'm not a petite little thing), I carry weight pretty well. At least, I can carry an extra 20 or so without totally loathing myself. But now that I've eaten my way to about 210 lbs, I really don't like the way I look or for that matter, the way I feel. I feel like an old woman. My legs and feet ache. My arms ache. I have trouble getting off the floor (if I dare to get down on the floor). I can't walk for several miles without feeling like I've run a marathon. I have a double chin, a triple belly roll, and a really cute (NOT!)dimpled butt! Oh and did I mention my legs...well, they look like rather long stumps.

All this being said, I decided (again) last week to begin eating healthier and now that I've had a little success with the eating part, I've made myself an appointment at Curves. Tomorrow morning, I'm going to drag my marshmellowy self out of bed an hour earlier, put on my big girl panties (literally), and do something about it. Look out Curves, here I come.

I'll keep you posted as to how this develops. Now that I've told you what I weigh, I feel much more obligated to stay true to the plan. I may even post some very G rated videos of this new journey.

PS: Don't tell anyone what I weigh, ok???

God's Name

Maybe you're one of those SUPER christians who stay close to God all the time. Well, I'm not. I wish I was but usually it takes some type of crisis or at least a problem to create in me the desire to know God better. The death of my nephew on January 12 has certainly given me the opportunity to seek God with my whole heart. On my way home from my sister's house this weekend I prayed that God would create in me the desire to know Him better. Never pray for something unless you really want it! So, it shouldn't be a surprise to me to find that I have a hunger and a need to know the names of God. After all, I prayed the prayer and He is always listening. Today, the journey to know God better through His names has begun. He's so good.

The first name I read about and have been pondering can't even be pronounced. It's YHVH which is Hebrew for "The unutterable name of God. The source of all life. The necessary being. Beyond all description." Talk about an eye opener. My view of God has been way too small. My approach to Him too irreverent. Through the study of His name, "YHVH", I am coming to realize what a mighty God we have. Our God is the source of our lives, our being, our everything.

Whether we acknowledge Him or not, whether we know Him in any way or not, whether we love Him or not, whether we follow Him or not...He is God and everything has its existence from Him.

Take a moment to think about someone bigger than yourself, greater than any power or knowledge, greater than our desires, greater simply because He is..."I am that I am"...God.

In Memory of Nick

If you're reading this, you probably know that last week, we lost a precious member of our family. Nicholas Putman Pasco went to be with the Lord on January 12. He was just 20 years old. To say it's been a hard week would be over simplifying it. Maybe it's because Nick was so young and his death was so unexpected that the loss is so hard. People should live to a ripe old age and die quietly and peacefully with their families at their bedside. Nick died suddenly and we don't know what caused his death. We may never know. And in all of this, I am, yet again, reminded of how fragile this life is. And I'm reminded of how we need to make the most of every day we have with each other. You see, life is so short we don't have time to get mad at each other and stay mad. We don't have time to be cruel or to make fun of each other. We don't have time to take each other for granted. We don't have time to be unkind and unloving. If there's one thing I can say about Nick, even though he didn't know how short his life would be, he knew he didn't have time to me unloving or cruel or uncaring. If he taught me anything, if he taught you anything, he taught us through his life how to love because Nick loved others. He loved his Momma and his family. He loved his nieces Aliyah, Isabella and Adrianna so much that he was more than an uncle to them, he was a daddy to them. He loved his friends. No, Nick wasn't perfect. We all know that. He had faults just like we all do but I'll tell you this, I've never seen or heard Nicholas be cruel, uncaring or unloving and that kind of life counts. Love always counts. The bible says that "Love covers a multitude of sins". To me, this means that no matter who we are or what we become the only thing that matters to God is how we love.

Thank you, Lord for the gentle giant of a young man we knew as Nick Pasco.

Jesus and Prozac

For many years I struggled with fear. You name it, I was afraid of it. As a little girl, I was afraid of shadows, the booger man, stepping on cracks. If it could be imagined, I was afraid of it. As I matured, my fears continued, growing more serious and more debilitating. In my middle twenties, there were days I didn’t want to get out of bed. I remember thinking that God must be angry with me. I felt as if no matter what I did, I couldn’t please him. Reading the Bible and claiming scripture was helpful, as was talking to the few family members and friends I trusted with my silent fears. However, I really didn’t want others to know about my crippling thoughts. On the outside, I looked like I had perfect control of my life. On the inside, I was a complete mess. Sometimes I didn’t want my life to go on. I went on like this for quite a few years. Sometimes the bouts of fear would subside and at other times, I was as fearful as ever. I kept praying, hoping and seeking help. Why the help I needed evaded me, I don’t know. Maybe I wasn’t ready to accept the help.

What I did come to realize over the years was that a lot of my fear issues stemmed from an actual illness. It was called obsessive compulsive disorder or OCD. My illness manifested itself by my excessive worry over a certain issue or subject until I found some way to relieve the stress. For instance, for months I might worry about having cancer in a certain part of my body or I might worry that I was going to say something that would be offensive to someone. I might worry constantly about the safety of my family or if I had a random thought, no matter how outrageous it was if it passed through my mind, I’d begin to worry about it. Things other people would shake off or even laugh about, would become an obsessive fear in my mind and it would dominate my thoughts. At times, my life was hellish. The only thing that kept me going was God. I knew He loved me, had a plan for me and ultimately would take these fears and worries out of my life. I believed this with every fiber of my being.

To make matters worse and to add my angst, I felt a great deal of shame with my constant fears. I felt as if I was a “bad” Christian and a failure.

One day, while at work, I decided I’d simply had enough. I couldn’t and wouldn’t continue to live this way any longer. So after years of struggling and at the age of 42, I called my husband, told him to come pick me up and asked him to take me to the doctor. Not knowing, where to begin, I went to my family doctor. When I explained to him what I’d been going through for years, he looked at me and said very simply and very matter of factly, “Jane, you have OCD.” I remember feeling an initial sense of relief because he confirmed to me I wasn’t crazy but sick. And what I had actually had a name and a treatment. But the struggle wasn’t quite over, not quite.

The doctor prescribed medication and in my case, it was Prozac and sent me home, advising me to call a counselor to help me learn to manage my symptoms. So, I did. At first, I was very resistant to taking Prozac or any type of antidepressant. I still had the nagging worry that I couldn’t be much of a Christian and live my life medicated. When I got home that day, I called a family counselor who was also a dear Christian friend. I talked over my situation with him and he asked me this: “Jane, if the doctor had told you today you were a diabetic, would you take the insulin?”

“Well, of course I would! That’s a physical illness!” I stated.

To which my counselor friend said, “And what do you think OCD is? OCD is a physical illness, too and it’s located in your brain. Take the medicine. Have you prayed for healing?” my wise friend asked.

“Yes, I have and in fact, I prayed this morning for healing.”

My friend said, “Don’t you think this may be God answering your prayer?”

I remember feeling like a light had suddenly come on in a very dark room. I took the medicine and I can promise you this, my life has never been the same. Yes, I occasionally have bouts of worry and fear but these bouts are manageable now because my brain is no longer in a state of what I call hiccups. The medicine I take controls the chemicals in my brain that caused my cycles of worry and fear.

Someone once said to me that they couldn’t believe how open I am about having OCD and being on Prozac. To which I had to say, “There is nothing Jesus and Prozac can’t handle!” You see, what Satan meant to destroy me with, God is using to bring glory to Himself!

You may be struggling with the same thing I was or it may be something different. My prayer for you is that you will turn it over to Jesus, who is the great physician. He may not heal you in the way YOU think He will or should but He will heal you. He wants you to have abundant life!

Tim Tebow: about Faith and Pigskin

Now,what could I possibly have to say about Tim Tebow? I know, I know...it would be easy for me to extol his football greatness. That's obvious. He's good, real good. And yes, I could brag on what a wonderful example he is to the world...he's very outspoken about his faith in Jesus Christ. That's really good,too. But what impresses me most about Tebow is what I hear about him when he's living his day to day, everyday life. I've been told he's not about Tim...he's about his teammates. And that's way cool. Talk is cheap and making a big show of one's faith has been exploited by many. We've all heard the tales. But what I've heard about Tim Tebow is he is the real deal. He loves God and he's unashamed of Jesus but he prove his faith as he lives in a way that few "Christians" ever seem to be able to. He puts other first. He puts ego aside. And his teammates love him.

So, no matter what your faith and maybe don't have any faith at all; Tim Tebow is a witness to something bigger than self, bigger than fame, bigger than making it to the top. Tim Tebow is a living example of the fact that God loves you.

I can't help but chuckle when I think that only God could use a young man and pigskin to point us all to a real day to day faith in a God who loves us! Oh, but wait, God used a young man and slingshot way back when, didn't He?