I’m Not That Girl Anymore

March 3, 2015March 3, 2015 / Gina Haney / 3 Comments

You know how every so often you stumble upon a writer who floors you with their ability to translate all you’re feelings into words? That’s just what happened when I stumbled upon Marisa’s blog Becoming His Butterfly.

https://mrsmariposa2014.wordpress.com

I’m so greatful that she agreed to guest post on my blog today For Wise Woman Wednesday, because she most certainly is one wise woman.

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When you are pulled from the smoking wreckage of your life by the hands of a most capable Savior, it is so beautiful you scarcely realize at first that you can actually move your limbs freely or breathe without shattered ribs stabbing your every exhale.

And when you begin to walk in it, really walk in it, expect some setbacks. Phantom pangs that’s sole purpose is to convince you they’re real.

Reminders that whisper your old brokenness to you as though the healing were not complete and never could be.

Ghosts of who you were, what had been that circle round you, doing their best to drag you back with bony hands to those places of raw hurt to keep you splintered in your soul.

To the little girl assaulted by slaps and shouts, name-calling and spits in the face for forgetting to take her empty hangers to the laundry room.

To the young teen who cried and pummeled her hapless boyfriend for the first time one night and never could put to words why he caught what her mom had thrown at her for years.

To the wife burgeoning with pregnancy a third time, feeling a rotten, inadequate wife and therefore deserving of the deception and devastation of her husband’s affair and abandonment.

To the one who held out hope for so long, pulled the pathetic, raggedy scraps of her life together, scooped up her babies, and tried hard to follow her God.

To the woman who became desperate and whorish after the fact, surrendering pride and all manners of things she ought to have held fast to in her quest for love.

To the one who wanted nothing more than to die and be done with it, yet knew there was life yet to live, and that not for herself.

Past rushes to meet present and refuses sometimes to shake you loose from its skeleton grip.

And at the time, it is so hard to feel these are just jutting bones without real power to hold me.

And I find myself becoming any one of those girls again.

“Jerry Springer Reject”

“Hysterical Wronged Ex”

“Wounded Woeful Child”

“Suicidal Headcase”

“Hot-to-Trot Divorced Mom”

And if I sink down and stay there and let those words splash their headlines over me, I will remain forever anchored and defined by them.

And if I let the careless conversations, cold insults, and the inconsistent remembrances of others carry me to those ancient places of rejection and regret, I will reject the things which I know to be true.

Namely this: I’m not that girl anymore.

As surely as the leper lost the marks of disease when Jesus lovingly touched and made him clean, He cleansed me.

And I ran free of the torture of separation from my God and my fellow man.

Free to STAY in freedom, not to return to dirty bandages and isolating pain.

And as surely as He spoke to that woman at the well and gave her living water for her aching, thirsting, sinful soul, so He gave me this everlasting, ever-healing drink.

And no longer did I need fill myself with anything else again.

The bottomless well remains even when you momentarily forget its location.

And there is, in fact, freedom from these things which pull you and me back to the scenes that anguish the heart anew.

People and places and penetrating words can all trigger these phantom pangs.

And have for me. More recently than I care to detail for you just now.

Let’s just say satan never stops. He wants nothing more than for us to not possess the truth behind these empty bones rattling our cages.

Therefore, he lines our path with detour signs that lead to those ugly angry pictures of former times.

Just hoping we will get lost in the frightening moment before our mind’s gaze and never find our way back.

Get wrecked again and stay wrecked.

But, we don’t have to stay there. That’s the incredible thing I am gaining more heart knowledge on by the year.

You don’t have to stay this victimized puppet getting your strings pulled every which way! Not with a Savior not more than one word away.

And that word?

Help. Just help.

No need for elaborate expounding or flowery prayer.

The word “help” will do, provided it’s help you’re seeking.

From the honest hoarse scratching of a parched throat that word will bring such a wash of glorious river waters to flow and rescue time and again from the harshest places we find ourselves.

Time and again it will shore us up to remind that yes, once we were this, and once we did that, but it isn’t who we are anymore.

Time and again, He pours in strength and resolve to see what He sees in us.

To see WHO He sees in us.

To remember we ARE something far better and more beautiful than we know or believe most times.

Not because of anything we can lay claim to in our finite strength, but because of Who reached down from heaven to lift us in our weakened state.

Because of Who reached out, crosspoint to precious crosspoint to set aright what none of us ever could in an infinite amount of years.

Because of this, we are not summed up any longer by what we’ve done or had done to us.

Because of this, we are no longer just the abused kid, the weirdo, the sin-soaked or the abandoned.

Because of this, we are adopted into one simple wonderful eternal thing:

His.

Lord, thank You for helping all of us who find ourselves so sorely in need of remembering who we are today. Amen.

A Purpose and a Place

February 26, 2015February 27, 2015 / Gina Haney / 5 Comments

The coffee said it right there on the package; Paradise is where I am.” Ha! Bologna! How can that be? It sure doesn’t feel like paradise when your heads spinning with the bewilderment of it all.

It was time. After eleven years of youth ministry the job we never thought we’d leave was not our calling any longer. How did we know?
• We lost motivation.
• We noticed our conversations during the week shifting from child centered ministry topics to adult centered ministry topics.
• Unsettled feeling. We were growing uncomfortable in our comfort zone.
• Our productivity had dropped.
• A fire began stirring inside of us that we can’t quench but have no outlet of release as the pressure builds.

So with certainty, and I won’t lie – a bit of fear; Josh resigned youth ministry last fall.
Whew! That was a load off! You know that amazing piece God gives when you are in perfect obedience with Him.

Now?

Hmmm…
It feels more like we’re stuck in a game of pin the tail on the donkey. Blindfolded and dizzy trying to find our way.

If you think it sounds like I’m pouting you’d be right. I’m the grumpiest pin the tail on the donkey contestant you’ll ever meet.

I like to know where I’m going and what’s to be expected of me. I also like – no – need to feel useful. And doesn’t everyone need to feel they have a purpose and a place?

The aha moment hit about here. When I bounced my thought off a wizened christian woman she disagreed. While I respect her thoughts I still can’t shake the feeling that she’s wrong about this one.

Is this valley another lesson in serving because He loves me, not so He will love me?

I’ve learned of a couple of fine lines we Christians kinda have trouble finding balance on.
A. The line between law and love. We get hung up on one and forget the significance of the other.
B. The line between works and faith. Again, we get hung up on one and forget the significance of the other.

I don’t know about any of you, but I get to feeling like I am such a mistake that I go about trying to makeup for it. And if that isn’t an insult to the blood; I don’t know what is.

The wizened Christian doesn’t think God likes siestas. She likened it to car shopping. “Does God care if you buy a car? Yes”, she said. “Does he care what color it is? No.” So if I heard this right; God cares if we serve but, isn’t picky about how we serve? And that just sounded absurd to me.

I don’t know how this is going to all turn out. I wasn’t sure it was something I could write with authority on, because I’m still feeling a bit bewildered.

I started the coffee and stood at the sink to wait for the ready beep. The snow flakes were falling fine and fast but you know the way they slow and twirl right next to the glass of the window? It’s like they’re dancing for you!

I’ve got approximately 22 minutes and 14 seconds to be alone with God before the kids start trickling down the stairs, and the house is filled with “No! It’s my turns.” and “What’s for breakfast?”. I don’t think I’ll do a thing. I’ll just set and be with He who created to have communion with me. Paradise is where you are. Yeah, maybe so. So far as earth is concerned anyway.

Aid for the Grey Sky Days

February 17, 2015 / Gina Haney / Leave a comment

Our story’s aren’t the same. Some have buried friends, children, siblings, parents. Some have been martyred. Some are clinging to their I.V. pole as they heave from the chemo. Others are swaddling babies and cheering victories. But whatever in this broken world you’re doing; this still rings true.

Josh proclaimed it from the pulpit that Sunday morning; how we have peace not because we understand, but because we have faith in our God who understands.

A few hours later we read the news. I realized we can proclaim the truth when our hearts need it – then witness how things really can get worse and our hearts can need it even more.

Our souls groan at the headlines, and we must recall the truth we’ve heard, we’ve spoken, we’ve read, and we believe; to deliver us in this time.

Yeah! Absolutely, God is our crutch. Because we are those people who’d rather hobble through broken than set down or set out.
We would rather acknowledge our weakness’ and lean on God’s strength than pretend we’re fine, it’s fine, we’ve got this, and walk around saving our pride and hiding our authentic need for a savior.

That truth that we must declare isn’t just for the brokenness within our own flesh, or within our own walls. It expands across the ocean. It reaches into houses, and huts, and hearts.
The only effective aid that can span the whole space of the broken world, and hold up the to the weight of it all – is Jesus.

If we hide it, deny it, or make light of it; then we are withholding the aid the whole wide world needs.
But if our gospel be hid, it is hid from them who are lost. 2 Corinthians 4:3

We can know it in our heads, hide it in our hearts, and feel it in our bones. “Your ways our higher than ours.”

Jim said every breath we take is only possible because God gives it, but the last thing we do when we die is exhale. You can die without God, but you can’t take your next breath without Him.

For better or for worse; it is impossible to hear someone’s last words and not be changed. For better or for worse; it is impossible to hear Gods word and not be changed. Your heart becomes tough or tender.

Lisa ask where the happy was. I could have sworn the whole world was a monochrome grey that day. I said I didn’t know, but that’s not exactly true. It’s just that neither of us needed a sermon right then. We just needed to be real, and to lean, and to not put some phony patch on things. Just lean on our crutch, and let the tears fall, and the sky look grey. Because God always sends a rainbow, but he reserves it for after the storms done passed.