Lent: When It Starts as a Failure

I missed it yesterday, the first day of Lent. Two years ago was the first time, only time, I have participated in the tradition of Lent. I looked up the background on it because, not being Catholic, I had no idea what the purpose was. I only knew it was a time when the people I knew who celebrated it put ash on their head and talked a lot about being glad when it was over so they could have whatever they were fasting again. I never saw the point. Then someone told me the point was so people could see their own desperation and need for Christ. Well, I don't need Lent to tell me what a failure I am at living the love or life I profess. That is right in front of me every day of my life.

So two years ago when I felt like the Lord called me to participate in Lent, I explained to Him that I didn't need to be reminded what a failure I am. I already get that. I don't need fasting to show me how utterly miserable and whiny I can be about my comfort zone or chocolate supply being disrupted. I'm painfully aware of that as well. And really, I was not in a place where I needed to feel more miserable about life or myself.

He was relentless in His request that I participate in Lent, and He said simply, "If Lent is about me, why don't you ask me how I want you to celebrate Lent?"

I did.

I then spent 40 days studying 1 Corinthians 13 because if the goal of Lent is to prepare a soul for the death and resurrection of Christ, then the goal of Lent has got to be love. It wasn't our depravity that put Christ on a cross. It wasn't some sadistic desire to upset our comfort zone. It was love that put Christ on the cross. John 3:16 says it plain as anything, "For God so LOVED that He sent His only begotten Son that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life."

The crucifixion and resurrection are the gift. Lent should prepare our hearts for the gift.

So I spent 40 days studying about love and the gift of a love...and how Christ wanted me to love myself.

It sounds selfish, but it was a season. It was a step in the recreating and restoring of a life shattered, and now that life is solid.

And really, I'm not thrilled about the idea of Lent again. Except I keep remembering how it spilled out of those 40 days right into my living room of the house the Lord moved us to...literally.

The home we bought is a HUD home, stripped bare, even some of the light fixtures mixing. If it could be removed, it was, except for this one absurd thing. When you walk in the front door, just to the right, it starts. "Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal..."

And it continues all the way around the room to the other edge of the door.

The one removable thing that was not removed.

The one thing dying on the cross could not kill.

This year I had not planned to observe Lent because nothing in particular came to mind as a means of participation, and once again, I have a enough failings to keep me falling on my knees. I don't need another failure.

Except love never fails.



So this Lent, I'm asking a simple question...

If the gift is love...and love never fails...

If I don't want to fail in preparing to receive the gift...in fully knowing Jesus...I have to know something very important...

How do I fail to love?

The Blessings

BTW, I do not want to be remiss in all the updates on this illness to not include the blessings, and I don't mention this because these people expect me to. I mention it because I think we live in a world that does not teach us how to serve others. I think it teaches us to implode, not explode, and frankly, I think most preachers are so busy covering their financial butts and keeping folks in pews with watered down or pick-and-choose-so-it-feels-good theology that we miss the commission to be like Christ, not to believe He once existed, but to truly be like Him, and I think it is imperative to tell the stories of the folks who show Him so others see and understand and can emulate...or just rejoice with how blessed my family is because trust me, THESE FOLKS BLESSED US, so in that vein I want to tell you about....

My cousin who lives about 2 hours away, I think, who "happened" to be near here Sunday when we were nearly out of staple groceries because I hadn't been able to get to the store. C helped at a garage sale during the day and on last minute notice (seeing my post on FB), offered to drive through here, get groceries, and bring them by. It was late. She was tired, and it added easily an extra hour to her trip home. She could have said nothing, and I would have never known she was anywhere near here, and there is more to the story, which is even more...did I mention she BLESSED us? She did.

MK offered to drive between 3 and 4 hours after work yesterday to pick up the kids and keep them till the weekend and bring them home. When she realized how sick I was, she offered to take the day off work today and simply come stay with me. Who does that? Then today she texted me, "Jer, don't be stupid. I know you think you feel better, but you don't. That is just the drugs making you feel like Superwoman. it's not really you." and to be known so well....BLESSED.

Other cousin. Mom of cousin above. I think she does more volunteer work in a week than I do in a year. REally. This woman knows how to serve, and despite the timing (love rush hour) still offered to drive the 30-40 minutes over here to drive me 10 minutes to urgent care and sit there with us so I wouldn't have to fight the world spinning so I could drive myself. She even told me multiple times she didn't mind, and I know she didn't. She would have done it because she loves the kids and me, and she is just that way. Since I assured her I could drive, she kept text watch, and I checked in until I finally passed out at home with meds in my system, and she was the first to text this morning to check on me. BLESSED.

Janis, city secretary. I called to find out if she knew the closest urgent care clinic because I don't know the roads well yet. Never crossed my mind that they would show up on a google map when I did a search. She spent nearly 10 minutes on the phone with me as she googled, found ones that were truly where they said they were, and relayed information. Then she checked on me this morning. BLESSED.

D who was the interpreter between her medical professional sister and me. I had no voice, so I texted D, and she talked to her sister. In the end, I was doing all the right things...and still losing the battle, but it was comforting to have a professional say, "You sound like you are at the point when you need to call in more help." I appreciate D's sisters help and time, and I deeply appreciate D being available to be used in such an unconventional...but so important at the moment...way. BLESSED.

To each of you above, I didn't mention names because I know you, and that isn't what you are about. May the Lord repay you with the His promise, "I will bless those who bless you". May those blessings be deep and wild in their abundance. With deep gratitude from this deeply blessed heart.

When You Hate Living, Maybe It is Time to Breathe

I share this because some folks I know have told me how much they hate their lives,

and I wonder if maybe it is because they've forgotten how to breathe....

We are moving, and in the course of sorting, packing, and tossing, I've filled a few boxes with school supplies that I thought might be useful for the schools in Moore, OK. Wanting to make sure I get the most for my money, I've opted to drive the few hours there instead of shipping them, and while we are there, we are pulling on our work gloves and seeing if we can help someone find their way into a solid hope for rebuilding. If nothing else, maybe we can hand out a few Kleenex, give a few hugs, and be a friendly face on a hard day.

I shared what we were doing with friends and said if anyone wanted to go, I have a few seats left in my pickup and if anyone wanted to send supplies, I have room in the back. Just figured if I was going already...

Folks responded, and more supplies and donations are headed that way, which I love.

Then...

I was told I'm amazing for taking supplies to Moore and spending a day working.

Nice thought. I appreciate it, but I know the truth.

I'm not amazing. In fact, this is one of the most selfish things I've done, actually.

In the process of my family's moving, I want to be still.

 I'm thankful for the new house. It is beautiful. Thankful to be moving. So in awe of how God has worked everything out, but I'm also tired.

The packing, organizing, calls, appointments...moving "stuff"...is so incredibly self-centered and time intensive that I feel toxic.

Yes, we want to help people in Moore, but really, I want to go, get back in touch with someone else, let my heart be broken, and detox. I *need* a day that wears me out emotionally and physically for someone else.

And that isn't amazing.

It's really pretty selfish, but it is a selfish that feels like being a human who is looking past the "stuff I need to do" list to the "person I want to be" list.

 In all the stuff that becomes so center stage that it can be suffocating, this feels like breathing.

Lent Day 34--Remember: Love does not Dishonor

Love is patient. Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast. It is not proud.
It does not dishonor others...

Stop and consider the power of such words.

It does not dishonor others...

It is patient. It is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast. It is not proud.
It does not dishonor others...

Love is neither fixated on what it gets right or on what others get wrong.

It is patient. It is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast. It is not proud.
It does not dishonor others...

If only there were a gate over my mouth and the key to words getting through was to love...and not dishonor.

Love is patient. Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast. It is not proud.
It does not dishonor others...

Lent Day 33--Love is not Proud

How can this cracked cup be proud of the wee bit of water barely offering a drink? If loving Him is offering a whole cup, I am wholly inadequate. And this flimsy flesh slaps another hard blow across my already bleeding back, and I lay the cover open for others to see the scars...to see the blood and the broken...and I am proud I know just how flimsy I am.

Pride is a lie whether it boasts too much or boasts too little.

And the broken cup I like to display is trash, not treasure, in the eyes of a God who leaves nothing broken because broken is ill-equipped but He fully equips, and this arrogance of need I like to flaunt as holy makes Him wholly ill.

If pride goes before fall, pride must go before I fall on my knees, and I confess it isn't about my brokenness but about His, and it isn't about my knowing I'm cracked but my knowing Him on Calvary. It is not about being mangled. It is about being masterpiece.

How can one bring glory as a Savior's masterpiece when I'm flaunting the arrogance of being a saved mess? The masterpiece is for His glory; repeatedly acknowledging I'm a mess is for mine.

And I am disgusted. And again, the pride goes, and I fall, and, God, save me from this mess I am and give me the mind of masterpiece so I live as a piece of the Master.

A masterpiece does not take pride in being magnificent or mangled. Instead, if finds joy and peace in knowing it is a loved and priceless piece of its Master.

Lent Day 33--Remember: Love is not Proud

Love is patient. Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast. It is not proud.

If there is nothing to boast of, there is no boasting.

Love is patient. Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast. It is not proud.

When love sees the wonder of the craftsman, how can the crafted be proud?

Love is patient. Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast. It is not proud.

Don't skip the scripture to see the words between.
The only thing between that matters is the love.

Love is patient. Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast. It is not proud.

Lent Day 22--When Love's Purpose is Simply to Love

Today I posted on FB that I need a ratty old couch removed from my house and either moved to the dump or put in my truck so I can try to move it to the dump. I have had no volunteers. People are simply busy. I understand.

HOWEVER, I have received invitations to various walks, demonstrations, protests, Bible studies, etc. Obviously the explanation of what people are busy with.

Let me be REALLY blunt.

If I don't care about people's personal needs,

I cannot expect them to care about my political or religious agendas.

 If I am so busy protecting my constitutional right that I miss protecting those Jesus said we are right to care about, I've missed Him.

 If I am too busy with my social functions that I forget how the body of Christ is supposed to function, I am just a clanging gong taking up space.

If I am too busy reading about how Jesus loved to actually love in practice, I am missing the boat, and people are missing Jesus.

And sometimes the love of Jesus looks like someone moving a couch, mowing a yard, dropping off a meal, driving someone to the hospital, helping with a baby, picking up medicine, or just sitting a spell and talking.

Lent Day 22--Love Does Not Boast

I think of them, and my neck starts to tense. You know the people I'm talking about, right? The ones who give you their resumes while you try to find a gracious way to exit the scene, or maybe it's the ones whose Christmas letters sound like a propaganda page convincing you that, yes, indeed, they and their family can unsnarl rush our traffic, cure the common cold, and fix the national debt. Their lives are bigger and their accomplishments better, and you leave their little self-marketing session ready to never lay eyes on them again...or ready to never lay eyes on yourself again.

Do you want to know what I did that rocked the nation last year? I sat in kayaks with people I love in the middle of a lake...and watched the sun go down. I cooked hotdogs for friends. Wait. Not exactly true. The husband/dad of the friendly family cooked the hotdogs. BUT, I laid them out to defrost, so that has to count for something. I told my children I loved them every.single.day. I prayed...a LOT. I tried to encourage friends who were tired. I paid my bills. I laughed. I read some books. I helped out here and there. I listened. I handed Kleenex. I got on my face and cried for people. I went to bed with a smile on my face because my life is so good the joy in my heart had to leak out somewhere, and a smile seemed like a good answer.

Okay, so maybe that didn't actually rock the nation. Okay, so it really didn't even make the gossip circuit in the neighborhood.

For years, I would look at lists like that side by side, and that you-are-so-insignificant voice would start its whispering and tearing at pieces of me, and I would listen. I mean, how was I supposed to say, "Oh, no, I am significant. It's just no one knows it."

But it isn't about what everyone else knows. It's about what *I* know.

I know love doesn't boast because love doesn't have to prove its value. Love doesn't have to show itself as better or more important. It doesn't have to prove it is important at all.

Love says, "I'm valuable, and I know it,

and even if no one else realizes it, I can and will still live my valuable life."

So I didn't make the news defrosting hotdogs. That doesn't mean I didn't make a difference.

Jesus didn't come to save the world. He came to save me, and unfortunately, the world news is not plastered with stories of what Jesus did for me today. Nonetheless, what He did is important to me. Love incarnate isn't filling the newspaper, but He's filling my world. He wasn't sent to make headlines. He was sent to be my lifeline. He has a purpose, and I'm it, and even if no one else knows what He does for me, He knows what He does for me is priceless.
...Who He is in my life is priceless.
...Who He is in my world is priceless.

...Who I am in the world He made...is priceless.

Maybe others don't know the priceless things I do. It's okay. It doesn't change who I am. I'm still the priceless me making the important difference in the world He determined needed someone like me.

And you are just as priceless, just as important, and just as needed as I am. The fact that you are here proves it...and even if the natinoal news doesn't get the memo, I know. He knows. I hope you know because your knowing will be what makes all the difference in your living big, and your living big makes a different.

Lent Day 21--Remember: Love Does Not Boast

Love is patient.
Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast.

Index card on the steering wheel.

Love is patient.
Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast.

Letters on white board erased one word at a time as they become permanent marks on the heart.

Love is patient.
Love is kind.
It does not envy.
It does not boast.

When You Envy the Idea of Loving Yourself

Self-loathing. I hate it. Lived in it for most of my life. When I looked in the mirror, all I saw was one big screw up. All I saw were the ways I failed, the failure I was.

Socially, self-loathing is almost a badge of belonging. Everyone hates something about ourselves, and our poor parents, no matter how long dead, are to blame.

Spiritually, it is a sign of holiness, the recognition of how amazing God is and how utterly amazing I'm not.

Self-loathing means we are normal, just like everyone else, and it shows we are self-aware, because we know how utterly completely pathetic we are. It is what makes us part of the collective, maybe even an elite part of the collective, or a collective of the elite.

Except, it's not biblical.

I have found nowhere in the Bible that says God wants me to hate myself. Think about it logically for a moment.
God is love.
God wants me to be like Him.
Therefore, God wants me to loathe myself. You know. The same self He loved so much that He put His Son on a cross for.

Oh, yeah, that makes sense. <insert eye roll and barely audible mutter, "Not.">

So where does the self-loathing come from? Simple. It comes from some voice, mine or someone else's, that declares me to be a failure.

I'm not the perfect student like my folks expect...or like my sibling is/was. Failure.
I don't get the lead role in the play. Failure.
I don't get into the USMC because of a knee injury. Failure.
I don't become a lawyer like Dad and Grandad and Great Grandad. Failure.
I don't ever own a Jaguar convertible. Failure.
I don't cook as well as dear old Mom. Failure.

Okay. So let's say I failed at all of those things. By definition, I'm a failure. However, I want to consider a different perspective.

What if I was never meant to succeed at those things? Does that make me a failure or someone trying different doors until I find the one for me?

Most people hate themselves for not being able to be what God never intended for them to be in the first place.

Instead of hating yourself for what you aren't, go to the One who made you and ask what you are.

I know a lot about failure.

I failed my physical to join the Marine Corps.
I failed to become a college basketball player.
I failed to have a very successful photography business.
I failed at my craft and quilt making business.
I failed to have a career as an internationally known journalist.
I failed to win a Tony for my performance on Broadway.
Wait. I failed to get on Broadway.
I failed to lose 30 pounds last year.
I failed at marriage.

Trust me. I know failure.

I also know none of that defines me.

Instead of looking at what I got wrong, I have gone to God and asked what He wants me to get right.

I don't ask what I got right in the past because that is like trying to weigh the good and bad in a balance and compare them. If the good outweighs the bad, I'm not as much of a failure as I thought, and I have permission to like me. But, folks, some days the stuff I get wrong piles high and deep, and the stuff I get right can be written on a Post It note. According to those scales, I am a failure. It isn't something I did. It is someone I am. And who wouldn't hate that?

But what if I put it in perspective?

Today I know there are more options for writing than that of a journalist.
I know I can use my stage presence for more than Broadway.
I know a pickup can carry kayaks better than a Jaguar.
I know I can fight for people and defend them and not wear a uniform or stand in a courtroom.

I know I still have purpose

even if it doesn't look like what I thought it would.

Failure addresses what I couldn't do or be in the past.

Possibility declares what I can do or be in the present.

Instead of looking at what I did not accomplish in the past, I choose to look at what God wants to accomplish in the present.

The key is choosing to be defined by HIS story, not my history.

And in His story, I was never written in as a failure. Neither were you.

I love that.

Lent day 20--Love Does Not Envy



Different hair.

Different eyes.

Fewer wrinkles.

Curves in different places.

Maybe curves at all.

Maybe not so many.

 

A better body.

Better voice.

Better ability to cook.

 

Personal cook.

Bigger house.

Cleaner house.

Cleaner car.

Better car.

Sports car.

 

Car maker.

Decision maker.

Movie maker.

News maker.

 

Known people.

Famous people.

Popular people.

Beautiful people.

 

That is what I want to be.

Actually, I want to be...

...Anything...

...Anywhere...

...Anyone...

But me.

 

 

Envy

Desiring someone else's gift, characteristic, or material goods

Love does not envy.

Remember with me. My "fast" for Lent is "give up everything you feel you have to do to get me to love you. Simply enjoy how much I love you."

Love does not envy.
God does not envy.

Seems absurdly obvious. What does God have to envy? What could He possibly want that He doesn't have? Anything He wants He can create Himself. There is nothing for Him to envy.

Anything...anyone...He wants He can create Himself.

So maybe what He wanted is exactly what He created.

Maybe YOU are exactly what He wanted, and He doesn't desire for you to be someone else.

Maybe what He is offering you is not another to-do on the Required-to-be-Holy Love List. Maybe what He is offering you is a chance to love yourself because you were made by the Holy.

Love doesn't envy.

Love enjoys being who I am as I am.

Love says I am amazing even if I can't carry a tune, don't have the body of a dancer, can't write like Ann Voskamp, didn't pass the USMC physical, and have never hiked a mountain. And love says I can believe I am amazing just as I am.

This isn't another thing to do. It is someone to be.

Someone who rejoices in who I am, the gifts I have, the characteristics God put in me, and the blessings He gives.

Envy is simply another word for wanting some soul plug to fill the empty places we believe we are lacking, but love understands a wholly powerful God makes us wholly amazing and nothing needs to be added. Nothing can make us more amazing than the hands of our Creator has already made us to be.

Love enables me to love the amazing gift I am...and enjoy the love of the One who made me this way.

Lent Day 19--Remember: Love Does Not Envy

Three things to remember at the grocery place:

Milk
Eggs
Bread

Three things to remember at the heart place:

Love is patient.
Love is kind.
Love does not envy.

Be patient with yourself as you learn because brain hiccups happen.
Be kind if you forget.
Don't envy anyone who already has it all memorized. :-)

Got them?

Lent Day 15--Kindly Tell Me What You Mean

Love is patient.

Love is kind.

Kind.

What does that mean?

Does anyone even use that word anymore?

I looked it up in the dictionary. That didn't help, so I looked it up in the thesaurus.

Kind

 

antonyms: affectionate, compassionate, considerate, friendly, gentle, gracious, kindhearted, kindly, loving, mild, sympathetic, tenderhearted, thoughtful, tolerant, understanding
 

synonyms: bitter, cruel, mean

"Jerri, love yourself more."

Be affectionate to yourself. Not so much.
Be compassionate to yourself. Mmm...I understand compassion. Keeper.
Be considerate to yourself. Did this yesterday.
Be friends to yourself. Huh. If I want to convey value to my friend, how do I do that? Keeper.
Be gentle with yourself. This brings up strong pictures and emotion. Keeper.
Be gracious to yourself. Nothing coming to mind.
Be kindhearted to yourself. I'm thinking of kindhearted people I know. This has some possibility. Keeper.
Be...kindly. No.
...loving. No.
...mild. No.
...sympathetic...Going to think on this.
...tenderhearted...not really.
...thoughtful. I know how to be thoughtful. This could be a big stretch. I like it. This could be the mind-altering one. Definitely keeper.
...tolerant. Are you kidding?
...understanding. I would too easily write this off as excuse. No. I need something far more concrete.

Compassion--Know you need some down time, and let it be okay. Know sometimes life is weighty, and a glass of chocolate milk is not. Go get a glass, sit down, and enjoy it. And don't let anyone or anything invade that time.

Let yourself hurt and know it is okay. Some things in life just hurt. Give yourself time to hurt. The house will hold till tomorrow. Give yourself time to grieve, and if need be, rearrange the schedule. Those who love you will have compassion, too. Who knows? Maybe they'll bring the chocolate milk. Some of them will even bring cookies.

Friends--You take time for your friends to let them vent, relax, or be just them. Give yourself the gift of time. You leave laundry to fold for them. You can leave it to fold for you. Jer, be your own best friend.

Gentle--I think of a mom with a small child who needs some extra TLC, a bit more time, a softer voice, a gentler touch, a bit more reassurance.

Be gentle with yourself. You are your first line of encouragement. I give you permission to be a great cheerleader and mentor.

Kindhearted--The person who handed me a kleenex when I needed one, the squeeze of the hand because no words were to be found, letting me with my big pregnant belly go first to the restroom.

"Doesn't take much to be kind,

just the realizing that sometimes that person needs to be first."

The words rock me, but some foundations are supposed to crumble.

Some would call it blasphemy, but the Voice asks close to my ear and deep in my soul...

"How can one know the powerful impact of being first if one is never first when she really needs to be?"

And I stop.

That says it all.

Love is patient--considerate, understanding, forgiving.
Love is kind--love puts a person first when she/he needs to be.

God loves you like that. It's okay for you to love you like that, too. :-)

Lent Day 14--Love in the Heart and on the Brain Pt 2

Love is patient.

Love is kind.

Write down.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.

Speak it out.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.

Etch it on the dust on your coffee table.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.

Make a pie crust and write it in the flour.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.

Dribble it on the frosting of a cake.
Love is patient.
Love is kind.

Whatever it takes. Just get it into your head so your heart can follow...

Love is patient.
Love is kind.

Lent Day 13--Love is Patient

"Jerri, love is patient. You need to love yourself more."

Patience.

No clue what that really even means.

I pull out the dictionary.

Patient

 

bearing provocation, annoyance, misfortune, delay, hardship, pain, etc., with fortitude and calm and without complaint, anger, or the like.

 

Oh.

 

I think of the pastor's words: "People cannot forgive themselves because they are under the old covenant."

 

And I know he is wrong. People cannot forgive themselves because of the pain. Pain inflicted on the ones we love, on someone else, on ourselves.

 

My love evaporates in the presence of the pain...pain of failure, pain of shame, pain of consequence.

 

How am I to be patient when I am so good at inflicting pain?

 

Look at its synonyms.

 

It's hard to look at synonyms when all I see are the reasons to not be patient, but I breathe deep, ignore the wave of voices and shame and read...

 

Synonyms:

considerate, forgiving, gentle, merciful, mild, thoughtful, willing to endure, calm, enduring, even-tempered, forbearing, persistent, understanding, untiring

Forgiving.

How does one forgive the pain?

Understanding. Considerate.

I am trying to understand when Love speaks loud.

Love understands. Few people are malicious. Most simply don't know a better way, don't know their priceless value, don't know they have a right to be more than what they've always been.

Love considers the humanness of people, the fact they were created with a breaking point, and if things get bad enough, the imperfect will show through, but love understands that is necessary for people to see the perfection of my love.

Love forgives because it knows the people are imperfect, and when they are hurting, they hurt others, and everyone does it, and everyone wants to be released from the forever consequences of their moment of failure. Love looks at the possibilities, not the past.

Jerri, understand that you are not malicious, that you are learning your value, that you are learning better ways, that you are learning you don't have to be what you've always been.

Consider that you are human, and when you are imperfect, it makes you run to Me seeking my perfection to cover you, and I will never shame you for needing me.

Forgive yourself. Embrace the possibilities and quit flogging yourself with the past.

Love is patient, Jer. Be patient with yourself.

Yes.
Love is patient. It understands, considers, and forgives.
Be patient with yourself.

Lent Day 12--Love In the Heart and On the Brain Pt1

For Lent, the Lord has asked me to give up all things I feel like I have to do for Him to love me...and simply accept and rejoice in the love He has for me.

"Jerri, I want you to enjoy how much I love you."

Wow. Okay...It has been a lot harder than I thought, but it has also been amazing!

Last week, I was really struggling, and He said, "Jerri, love is patient. You need to be more patient with yourself."

In that sweet voice of His, close to my ear He whispered,
"Jerri, you need to love yourself more."

I know that rocks some of your boats. Before this is done, your boat may just capsize and sink. A bit unnerving, but not always a bad thing. All I ask is that you stay with me. I promise neither God nor I will let you drown. Remember, He's the one who walks on water, and who knows but learning to walk on water is learning to love yourself? When one hears the howling winds of voices hateful and shaming, it can be easier to drown than to rise and walk.

But Jesus is where the love is, and if that means getting out of our boats, I'm all for facing the waves.

Won't you come with?

And my invitation to walk in the place of the crazy deep worded wild,

"What I would really love is for you to love yourself."

Why? You are God of the universe. You don't need my approval.

"A great artist doesn't create because He has to.

He creates because He enjoys it,

...because He wants to impart beauty

...because He needs a place to put His heart...

It brings Me joy when you enjoy being the masterpiece...

when you enjoy My heart."

Really? That is all You ask? For me to love me?

And I look in the face of the Creator of the Universe and Lover of my soul who is asking me to take His hand and walk right into His heart, who is desiring to hide nothing, and I am lost and undone and...

And I know it is not just a feeling He is offering, and it's not just a feeling I want. I want to commit my heart to love and commit love to my heart, and I am not even sure what I'm asking for, except I want it seared in deep so I am marked for life.

But how does one do this? I don't know.

I don't know how to love me. I need you to teach me.

A smile that I feel to the core of my being. "Then let's start at the beginning. All you need to know today is this:

Love is patient."

Love is patient.

Still not sure if this water walking is for you? It's okay. All you need to know today is this...

Love is patient.

Speak it to yourself. Love is patient.

Write it on the mirror in your bathroom. Love is patient.

Marker tattoo it on your arm. Love is patient.

Index card it on your fridge. Love is patient.

Poste it on the bedroom wall in front of the side of your bed where you sit when your voice has gotten too loud and your heart too broken and your humanness too real. Love is patient.

And when your feet of clay become cement and water starts to rise and the voices of failures past want to scream loud and yours wants to agree with every hateful word they say...take the stopping breath that settles into silence...inhale the life...and speak forth the love...

Love is patient.

Give yourself some love.