The Perfect Day.

January 28th, 2012.

The day I married my best friend. I could type for hours about the details of my perfect-non-wedding-wedding. It was sweet and simple. We were married by candlelight, in cute clothes, with pretty rings. J’s dad officiated. We got lots of Dr. Pepper swag in place of wedding gifts. 😉
A close friend/amazing photographer* took awesome pictures. We got them back in about 2 weeks, instead of 3 months.
We took perfect, traditional vows. We have the video to prove it. And the whole thing only took about 10 minutes. Perfect.

I didn’t have to deal with RSVP’s, or expensive deposits, or bossy wedding planners, or bratty flowergirls, or dress alterations, or wedding diets. I had the wedding of my dreams without all the wedding junk. And I got to spend the first half of my day eating peanut butter sandwiches with the man I love.

Let me start by saying, I’m sorry we didn’t invite you. I’m not really. It’s just a nice thing to say. We celebrated our day with our immediate families, and a couple of our as-close-as-family friends. A stress-free day is what I wanted, more than flowers, and lace, and stupid favors that people don’t really want anyway, but you feel obligated to buy because it’s the latest thing in wedding trends according to Martha Stewart. I’m pretty sure I got the closest thing to a stress-free wedding that people are allowed to have.

I would bore you with the details, but I’m busy being blissfully married to the best guy in the world, and I have too many incredible pictures to share with you to keep typing! Enjoy!

Chief running to meet me. She wore her “matching” dress. I love it.

GETTING MARRIED!!!!

See my awesome dress?

🙂

one last "chief" hug, after the ceremony. melts my <3"

Walking to the car… Nothing says “wedding” like being attacked with chicken-flavored rice-a-roni.

my favorite

Our Wedding Photo Shoot (thanks for being such a good sport honey.)

Our Wedding “Band”

Pictures with my Family

Pictures with Jake’s Family

There are no words…..

Cutting the cake that my Sister/Cousin worked so hard on. Thanks!

A great big special huge thank you thank you thank you to Danielle Giffen for the awesome wedding photography!! Check her out at http://www.jpbydani.com/!

*all photos in this post were taken by Danielle Giffen of Jubilee Photography (though there are a few that I edited myself, because they were too funny to NOT include.)

Our wedding was fun, and very special. And I’m glad it’s over. I’d much rather be a wife than a bride. Married life is great. Today we had to figure out how to patch the leaky kitchen ceiling, and spent the remainder of our disposable income. Which reminds me… click here if you want to send us wedding gifts. 😉

Wedding Photo Preview… More to Come!

Photo Card

View the entire collection of cards.

The Jilted-Lovers-Lonely-Hearts Club

Sometimes God makes me laugh.

Romans 8:28 NCV – We know that in everything God works for the good of those who love him.They are the people he called, because that was his plan.

If you’ve been following this blog you know that 2011 was a tough year for me. I wandered off on a path, guided by the misguided, and lost my way. I listened to the people of God, instead of God Himself, and what I though was His perfect plan turned out to be the wrong plan for my life. At least that’s what I thought…

This blog was started to help me find my way back to my Jesus. I longed for the accountability I was used to in my Christian social circle, and hoped this would be a good substitute. It turned out to be something very different. I’ve shared my heart, my hurt, and my failure here in a much deeper way than I was ever allowed to in any other forum. You’ve all read about my struggle with forgiveness, and my struggle with church. You’ve all read about my questions for God, and His expectations for me. But mostly you’ve read about my broken engagement, the wrong man I almost married, and the lack of love in my past relationship.

This is where the funny part comes in.

It all started with a hedgehog…

Actually it started in 2008 when I met the love of my life. Only one of us knew that he was the love of my life. I didn’t know it for a while after that. Not long after we met he moved away, and our friendship didn’t really begin until we started exchanging Facebook messages early the next year. There was an unexplained instant connection between us. We spent the next couple of years sharing our deepest secrets. We talked about life and love, God and His expectations for us, our families, our fears. Talking to him was the easiest, most natural thing in the world. He had spent some time on the same church staff I was struggling with. He was my sounding board, constantly encouraging me to forgive, and see people for what they were, instead of what they should be. I waited impatiently for messages from him every day. He was the only person who could always make me smile.

But I was in a very self-absorbed phase in my life, and failed to see what was right in front of me. Things with the church I was at got really bad in October 2010 and I went into a mild state of depression. True to Courtney-fashion, I stopped talking to everyone for a couple of months. When I reemerged, and started talking to everyone again, he was engaged. A little over two months later, so was I.

Both of those fiascos were over before the weather turned warm again. If my ex-fiance had been someone who I got along with, or who treated me even half-way decently, I would have obliviously settled for him. Had his ex-fiance been someone who he could have gotten along with, who treated him half-way decently, he would have obliviously settled for her. Instead, we ended up with the two most horrible people we could have dreamed up. The parallels in our separate lives are comical. While we were both walking through misery, and sulking in self-pity God was at work. The lessons we learned in 2011 and trials we went through matured us, and helped prepare us for the next phase.

In the midst of my anger Jacob and I found each other again. The first thing he did was rescue a pet hedgehog from a Texas country band’s tour bus and deliver it to my apartment in Lubbock. The next thing he did was patiently love me until I was ready to open my heart again. I promised him I wouldn’t always be broken, and he told me that just having me in his life was enough for him. He loved me with no expectations. No one else has ever loved me that way. We were like magnets. I was constantly finding excuses to see him again, and he was finding every opportunity to spend time with me. We knew everything about each other, from the pages and pages of messages we had shared. The time we spent together over the next couple of months solidified the love we were always supposed to be in.

As soon as we admitted we loved each other we knew we would be together forever. We decided to take it slow, and ease our families in to the idea of us being together. They went through a lot with our past engagements…. So by the next week we were engaged and had told everyone everything. So much for taking it slow. 🙂

There is no way in the world I would ever get married, if it weren’t to my perfect other half. This Saturday we will exchange vows, and our two lives will be one life forever.

God’s perfect plan kept us apart for 3 years… or 23 years, depending on how you look at it. He allowed the painful things in life to mold and shape us into two perfectly compatible separate people. He used the most self-centered people in the world to teach us about marriage, and help us decide what we wanted out of life. And He brought us back together at just the right moment, to help each other heal and to show us what His idea of love is.

I’ve been studying about love a lot lately. God’s idea of romance is intense.

Song of Songs 3

 ¹ “On my bed night after night I sought him
Whom my soul loves;
I sought him but did not find him.
² ‘I must arise now and go about the city;
In the streets and in the squares
I must seek him whom my soul loves.’
I sought him but did not find him.
³ “The watchmen who make the rounds in the city found me,
And I said, ‘Have you seen him whom my soul loves?’
⁴ “Scarcely had I left them
When I found him whom my soul loves;
I held on to him and would not let him go
Until I had brought him to my mother’s house,
And into the room of her who conceived me.”

Like the woman in this beautiful piece of poetry, I have been desperately seeking my Jesus. I’ve felt so far away from Him. The void in my heart was impossible to fill with self-gratifying ministry, or the meaningless tasks and relationships I took on.

Wesley’s notes say that ‘the watchmen of the city’ are the ministers of the church. Too many times I’ve relied on the people of God instead of God Himself. The woman here asks them where to find her Love. They don’t answer her. They do not know, and her impatient soul will not wait for their answer. But when she leaves the confines of the city, she finds the One her soul loves. When I placed my focus on Jesus, and not the church I idolized, I found the One my soul loves. He wanted the kind of intimacy with me that can only be found in a personal relationship. I know that sounds cliché. But if you think about it, personal relationships don’t belong to anyone else.

The church is supposed to function as one body of believers, delivering the Good News to the rest of the world. But too many members of that church (including my former self) rely on the ministers to direct them to the Jesus they already know, and don’t rely on Jesus. When you find Him, for real, He’ll mess up your world. I needed a new life to find my Jesus. The curse of original sin is about new life. Women would not bring new life into the world without the travailing pain of childbirth. Men would not bring new life from the ground without the pain of hard work. I could not have a new life in Jesus without the pain I went through. When you find a life with Him you can’t help but do exactly what the woman we just read about did.

She brought Him into her mother’s house, into the room where she was conceived. This is a picture of the inner chamber of the tabernacle, the Holy of Holies. It is the place where marriages are consummated. (reference Gen. 24:67) It’s the place of intimacy with God that few are willing to enter. Most are satisfied with mediocrity.

I held on to him and would not let him go
Until I had brought him to my mother’s house,
And into the room of her who conceived me.”

She would not let him go. (Gen. 32) – I’ve been wrestling with God since my life fell to pieces. I wasn’t satisfied until I felt His love. The relationship we have now is incredible. Love is not a choice. Love can not be helped or forsaken. It is something you can’t live without – desperation for the one who completes you.

My romance with Jesus is something I can’t accurately describe or explain. I am thankful that He is my home, and that He has given me a home on this earth. And I’m thankful that He is my Love, and that He has given me a love on this earth.

The kind of love I am in with Jake is a gift from God, and a picture of the romance He wants from me. Jacob completes me. I’m more myself with him than I’ve ever been on my own. Once we found each other we knew we would never be satisfied with anything less than forever. Stay tuned as I record the next part of my journey, building a home and a life with the man God created me for. This is my last post as Courtney Slaton. And believe me when I say I went through hell to become a Hale…

Time for a Do-Over.

I have got to get some WiFi turned on at my apartment… this is ridiculous. Gingerbread latte’s are good, but not worth fighting my way through a Starbuck’s Christmas crowd for, and I appreciate the free WiFi, but I doubt my neighbor here liked it when I tripped over her power cord…

Why am I at Starbuck’s if it’s this miserable? Because I forgot it was Sunday. I packed up this dinosaur of a laptop and headed out to my favorite Christian owned coffee shop, so I could curl up in a corner and finally write. It’s easy to be invisible there. That’s been my main purpose for the past few months… being invisible.

How did I forget that it was Sunday? … Well, I worked today… and I’ve defiantly stomped my foot like a toddler and proclaimed that I’m never going to church again. Those two things combined make this a Thursday. But if it were Thursday I would be at “Good Brews” and not Starbucks. Ugh… why can’t I get a Jesus approved cup of coffee on a Sunday? I like my Christian commercialism seven days a week. ‘Tis the season…

We have a lot to catch up on, internet.

So here’s what happened to me.

Sometime near the end of August or beginning of September I began to study Ezekiel’s vision of the tabernacle… heavy stuff. I poured over books and notes and YouTube videos explaining true intimacy with God. God began to show me Himself in ways I hadn’t imagined. I knew that I knew that I had stopped short of the Holy of Holies. I had settled for the Christian crowd, huddled just outside the door. My Jesus was stretching out His hand, and inviting me in. A veil was lifted from my eyes and I started to see things for what they really were. And it made Satan mad…

He threw everything he had at me. As if he hadn’t been doing that all year anyway … He began to attack my family, because he knew that was the easiest way to rile me up and back me into a corner. Liars and manipulators started to dig their claws into KK in a deliberate effort to separate her from us, her family. BabySister became a target for lies and jealousy, thrown at her by adults who were supposed to guide and lead her. LittleBrother hit rock bottom and grabbed a shovel… I saw my stupid dad for the first time in almost a decade, and after a few days of forced cordial conversation, he cussed me out in a drug induced rage. My family moved from West Texas and left me here alone. (I’m so happy for them. It’s me I’m sad for. Get on board people. This is a pity party.)

Former almost-in-laws fueled up the gossip train and it charged full steam ahead. Before I knew what happened my former pastor jumped on board and started spreading lies like peanut butter on warm toast.

This blog was called anti-Christian fodder. I was accused of ruining lives. A false interpretation of the first part of this year was spread around like truth, in an effort to protect the guilty and unashamed. I was accused of ‘going off the deep end’. I was accused of speaking curses upon a youth group and causing it to not grow… All of this by a person I considered a mentor and a friend.

And then… the-ex-fiance decided to call and let me know that he forgave me.

He. Forgave. Me….. What the? … really? This is a joke, right?
Ugh. (After everything he did to me… and… and… there are no words.)

So I retreated. It was too much. I was determined not to fall apart, so I just became invisible. I know all of Satan’s tricks. I’m not affected by Satan. He has no power over me… I’m strong and unshakeable. But I’m not really. I was told just today that I’m made of marshmallow peeps…

The people Satan used to hurt me were people I loved… and it crushed me. How do you deal with that? Was the first part of this year not enough for me to go through? Were the people I used to trust so determined to ruin me that they would stop at nothing short of slander? .. Apparently.

I’ve been hiding out in my batcave ever since. Well… I’ve mostly been traveling for work, and staying as far away from Lubbock as possible. But the time I spend here is strategic. I spend every moment at home, or at work. My two safe havens. On the rare occasion I venture out in public here it’s to stock up on supplies, before returning to my bunker. This has become a war zone… It is, after all, the 6th most dangerous place to live in America. (I just threw that in to make my mom feel guilty… but it’s totally true.) I’m constantly looking over my shoulder, and scanning stores and parking lots for familiar faces. I stopped blogging. I cut myself off from the few people I still talked to. I decided to trust no one. Not even you.

And Satan’s carefully calculated plan worked.

But here I stand… Alive.

And as long as there is breath in my body I will praise the Lord.
Take that.

So let me start this horrible process.

I’m sorry.

I love you KK. I’m sorry for not trusting you to make wise decisions. Your love of Jesus impresses and humbles me every day. Your ability to look past people, and see Jesus is incredible. Please do that for me.

Crap. Now I’m crying in Starbucks.

To my BabySister- I’m sorry for not being a better example to you. Don’t let my anger influence your sweet spirit. You are strong, and beautiful. Let Jesus shine through you.
Chief- You’re perfect. I love you.

(And I’d like to thank the Academy… I know I know. This sounds cheesy. But it has to be done.)

My best friend and I had a big cry-fest while I was in Houston last month. The way I’ve acted the past few months is pretty typical behavior from me. Things get hard, and I disappear. I reemerge expecting friends to let me pick up where I left them. She yelled at me for that. “Your friends DON’T have to understand. You’re not the only one who ever goes through hard stuff.”

I’m sorry for disappearing. Those of you who do understand are the friends who have loved me unconditionally, and I am grateful. This apology is meant to reach back a few years to the friends I deserted when I moved here in my miserable state. I’m apologizing to the people who are here, that didn’t latch on to the gossip and lies. I’m apologizing to the friend who found me when I started writing this blog, and helped me hold on to the Truth… I’m apologizing to the best friend I’ve ever had, who has never not been there when I needed him. Please forgive me. I promise to try harder. I really do love you all.

Matthew 5:43 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor 44 But I say to you, love your enemies. Pray for those who hurt you.

Matthew 5:47 And if you are nice only to your friends, you are no better than other people. Even those who don’t know God are nice to their friends. 48 So you must be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect.

Perfect? Fine…. Time to take this seriously.

To my LittleBrother. I forgive you for everything that’s happened, and for whatever is to come. Your pain hurts me, only because I love you more than I love myself. You are stronger than you think.

To my stupid dad…. I’m not ready to deal with you yet… (Look, I’m trying here.)

To everyone in this town I don’t ever want to see again – I forgive you. I forgive you for your lies. I forgive you for your ignorance. I forgive you for your gossip. I forgive you for your weakness. I don’t hope your church grows. I hope that you grow. I don’t hope for numbers. I hope for redemption. (But please leave me alone.)

And to the-ex-fiance. I forgive you too. Completely. (But I’m glad you’re leaving the country.) And I’m sorry for saying I hope you get eaten by cannibals…

Some might say I have a long way to go… I don’t really. This isn’t about me at all. My Jesus is just out of reach.. It’s this intimidating crowd I need to push through to touch His hem… So here I go.

To My Jesus…. I am sorry for judging you by the way Your people have treated me. Thank you for not doing that to me. I am sorry for ignoring you when I was hurt. Thank you for not doing that to me. I’m sorry that it’s easier for me to praise You when my apartment is clean… (What? Is that weird? … ) Thank you for not giving up on me. Your faith in me amazes me.

I’m not sure why that had to be so public, but it did. A sweet new friend suggested that my forgiveness be the last post on this blog, and I start a new blog for a new beginning. That has been my intention, but I changed my mind. I’m thankful for the horrible things I’ve been through. Without them I would still be where I was. They are an important part of who I am now. My Jesus is going to use this messed up life somehow, and everything that has been recorded here will be an intricate part of the ministry He has called me to. What a fool I’ve been to limit my Jesus, and assume ministry had to be done within the confinement of the church. I may never step foot in a traditional church again… Traditions are overrated anyway. But I know that there is a community of people who have been praying for me since this all began, and I know that I am not alone.

I know I didn’t survive this years’ fiascoes for no reason. Some people are scared to change the world because they think they won’t be able to…. And some of us are scared to change the world because we know that we can. I’m not hiding anymore. I’m only meant to be invisible so He can be seen. I’m humbled, and broken, and completely in love with My Jesus. Because even still… He is inviting me in… past the crowd… into His Presence! And this time I’m unstoppable.

So that’s the bad part of my story. I’ll fill in the good details soon. Like the fact that there is a hedgehog living in my apartment, and a sweet little angel named Journey was born. And it’s Christmastime!… How could I be sad?

If I apologized to you a minute ago, please email me and tell about all that you’ve been through since we last talked…. I’ve missed you. And if we’ve never talked, I’d still like to hear your story. CourtneyS1988@yahoo.com

Happy Birthday Chief!

Today Chief turns 11. Since I was 12 when she was born, this makes me feel incredibly old.

She is one of the most amazing people I have ever met. She feels the pain of everyone she loves, she never gives up on anyone, and she’s always looking for a way to make a few bucks. She refers to her face as her secret weapon, and she thinks that only half the rules apply to her.

She drives us nuts sometimes, but I know that her strong will and zeal for life are God given characteristics. He will use them to fulfill His destiny for her.

I pray every day that this world is not able to squash her personality, and that she never tries to fit in. Being herself is her greatest strength, and it’s the reason not everyone gets her. But those who do love her deeply and think she’s awesome.

So, as she spends the next year teaching her weird dog how to brush her hair, and embezzling money out of unsuspecting lemonade stand customers, I will smile. I will try not to be one of those people who try to make her fit into society’s idea of what she should be, and I will pray that God protects her heart from the opposition any of us with free spirits face.

And I will try to stay on her good side, because behind that sweet face is the ability to take over the world. I think she just added her name to the 2012 presidential ballot… And she scribbled out a few other names while she was at it. Ah. Oh well. Nobody really wanted Mitt Romney to be president anyway…

Fine China

Wrestling with this issue of forgiveness is unpleasant. I’d rather not do it. But God keeps bringing it to the forefront of my mind, and has made it clear that it’s necessary to move any further down this path He has me taking.

“Don’t you understand, Jesus?”…
Well duh. He felt all of this times infinity. That’s why He’s asking me to do it. He knows it’s possible to forgive and impossible to fully know Him without forgiveness. To walk in His fullness means to share in His experiences. To know His heart means to feel His pain…

But He never had a sister-in-law to deal with. Even as I’m re-reading C.S. Lewis’ take on my unholy attitude, KK walks in the door with the latest evil thing that Jezebel has said. KK doesn’t see it that way. She is just as blinded by those awful people as I once was. I’m trying not to stay mad at her for that.

I have so much anger and so much resentment, not because I choose to be offended as that pastor insinuated, but because crafty people did and continue to do offensive things. You can bet your last penny I’m offended. People with a much higher maturity level would be offended by the things that happened to me, and marriages have ended over much less. I readily admit my part in this disaster, but lies thrown my way are undeserved, and unacceptable. Holding on to this will destroy me. But it hurts. How do I forgive cheaters, and liars, and manipulators, who ripped apart my engagement and have set their sights on my sisters?

A friend told me a true story about forgiveness the other day. A woman lost her daughter in a drunk driving accident. The man responsible went to prison. While that man was in prison the mother went to visit him and she totally forgave him. The day he was released, she cooked him an extravagant meal, and served him on her fine china.

What an amazing example of the love of Jesus. I’ve never felt that kind of pain. If someone asked me to serve the people that hurt me on fine china, I’d probably throw the fine china at their heads.

That’s an exaggeration. Maybe.Two months ago I wanted to kill them all. A month ago I wouldn’t have hesitated to punch a few people in the face. Now, at this moment, all I really want to do is trip Jezebel as she walks by.

I’m not writing this blog to tell you all how perfect I am. Anyone who acts unfazed by the kind of thing I just went through is either a liar and they know it, or a liar who has deceived their own heart. I’m writing this so the few people who know me and love me will keep me accountable and not let me lose heart on this journey.

My Jesus expects so much more from me, because He does have to deal with drunk drivers, and evil sisters-in-law. Just like He has to deal with angry mothers who’ve lost children, and broken girls that had to return their wedding dresses, because their fiancés turned out to be jerks. He felt all of this pain. He felt every sin. He died for me, right now, in my broken state. He loves me so much, that one day He’ll serve me on fine china, in the mansion He prepared for me. And He knows what a sinner I am. He knows that I say bad words, and I get riled up. He knows that I refer to her as Jezebel because it’s the nicest thing I’ve called her since June…. Ok. April.

(Trust me. Anyone who has read 1st Kings knows that it’s appropriate. And it’s much nicer than the connotations behind ‘that girl’, which is how she referred to me throughout my engagement.)

There I go, justifying myself again.

I don’t hate the-ex-fiancé. At all.
I don’t hate his mother. At all.

That’s more than I could say a few weeks ago. Forgiveness is a process that I’m going through, but it’s also something I have to have a made up mind about. So I do.

I’m not finished forgiving them, and I don’t want to invite them for dinner, but that’s the amazing thing about my Jesus. He’s holding my hand on this road, and pointing me in the right direction. I thought I was past some of the hurt I feel today, but He’s showing me the pieces that are left. He loves me so much, that He is not willing to let me halfway forgive anyone. He fully forgave me.

I don’t hate Jezebel for the things she did throughout my engagement. I forgive her as much as I’m able to today. I’ll be even further in this process tomorrow, and even closer to freedom after that. But…If she tries to get a little dig at me through my sisters again I may kick her…well… You know. She knows too. It’s exactly what I told her to kiss a few months ago. I still don’t feel guilty for the things I said to her, like I should. They might have had it coming, but that poor carpet cleaner should have been left out of that mess.

I’ll feel guilt for my reactions to things done to me eventually. My defenses are too high at the moment. Besides, if I had been blameless in all of this, what would Jezebel have to talk about? … I’m sure she’d make something up.

I’ll have to rise above my own actions just like I’ll have to rise above theirs. God is working on my heart, but my actions are my own.

Batman wisely reminds me- It’s not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me. I love Batman.

My Jesus lovingly reminds me of His intentions for me, every day.

Psalm 23

A David Psalm

1-3 God, my shepherd! I don’t need a thing.
You have bedded me down in lush meadows,
you find me quiet pools to drink from.
True to your word,
you let me catch my breath
and send me in the right direction.

4 Even when the way goes through
Death Valley,
I’m not afraid
when you walk at my side.
Your trusty shepherd’s crook
makes me feel secure.

5 You serve me a six-course dinner
right in front of my enemies.
You revive my drooping head;
my cup brims with blessing.

6 Your beauty and love chase after me
every day of my life.
I’m back home in the house of God
for the rest of my life.

He’s letting me catch my breath, and allowing me to be consumed by His fire, His Spirit, His forgiveness. He is feeding me at this very moment, in this town, in the presence of my enemies. Those who meant me harm are reading this blog as He fills me up, anoints me, and prepares me for this journey. Some of them will resent me, because their wicked plots did not succeed. Others will judge me, because they see my sin and ignore His grace. But a few… A few people that read this will take heart in my struggles, and cry to my Jesus. That’s more than I can hope for.

And I know that the more I’m willing to sacrifice my pride, humble myself, and pursue the heart of Jesus, the closer I’ll get to that dinner party. The one where I can sit, across the table from my enemies, and serve them an extravagant dinner on my fine china. That’s what Jesus will do for me, and it’s what He’ll teach me to do for them. And not a single plate will be thrown…

iPhone Conspiracy

My iPhone is out to get me. I have at least thirty interests chosen on StumbleUpon, but every single time I ever click on it, I get something about forgiveness. God wants me to get this. Fine. Fine. I’ll read it ten times. Twenty if that’s what it takes…

Essay on Forgiveness by C.S. Lewis

We say a great many things in church (and out of church too) without thinking of what we are saying. For instance, we say in the Creed “I believe in the forgiveness of sins.” I had been saying it for several years before I asked myself why it was in the Creed. At first sight it seems hardly worthy of putting in. “If one is a Christian, ” I thought, “of course one believes in the forgiveness of sins. It goes without saying.” But the people who compiled the Creed apparently thought that this was a part of our belief which we needed to be reminded of every time we went to church. And I have begun to see that, as far as I am concerned, they were right. to believe in the forgiveness of sins is not so easy as I thought. Real belief in it is the sort of thing that easily slips away if we don’t keep on polishing it up.

We believe that God forgives us our sins; but also that He will not do so unless we forgive other people their sins against us. There is no doubt about the second part of this statement. It is in the Lord’s Prayer, it was emphatically stated by our Lord. If you don’t forgive you will not be forgiven. No exceptions to it. He doesn’t say that we are to forgive other people’s sins, provided they are not too frightful, or provided there are extenuating circumstances, or anything of that sort. We are to forgive them all, however spiteful, however mean, however often they are repeated. If we don’t we shall be forgiven none of our own.

Now it seems to me that we often make a mistake both about God’s forgiveness of our sins and about the forgiveness we are told to offer to other people’s sins. Take it first about God’s forgiveness, I find that when I think I am asking God to forgive me I am often in reality (unless I watch myself very carefully) asking Him to do something quite different. I am asking him not to forgive me but to excuse me. But there is all the difference in the world between forgiving and excusing. Forgiveness says, “Yes, you have done this thing, but I accept your apology; I will never hold it against you and everything between us two will be exactly as it was before.” If one was not really to blame then there is nothing to forgive. In that sense forgiveness and excusing are almost opposites. Of course, in dozens of cases, either between God and man, or between one man and another, there may be a mixture of the two. Part of what at first seemed to be the sins turns out to be really nobody’s fault and is excused; the bit that is left over is forgiven. If you had a perfect excuse, you would not need forgiveness; if the whole of your actions needs forgiveness, then there was no excuse for it. But the trouble is that what we call “asking God’s forgiveness” very often really consists in asking God to accept our excuses. What leads us into this mistake is the fact that there usually is some amount of excuse, some “extenuating circumstances.” We are so very anxious to point these things out to God (and to ourselves) that we are apt to forget the very important thing; that is, the bit left over, the bit which excuses don’t cover, the bit which is inexcusable but not, thank God, unforgivable. And if we forget this, we shall go away imagining that we have repented and been forgiven when all that has really happened is that we have satisfied ourselves without own excuses. They may be very bad excuses; we are all too easily satisfied about ourselves.

There are two remedies for this danger. One is to remember that God knows all the real excuses very much better than we do. If there are real “extenuating circumstances” there is no fear that He will overlook them. Often He must know many excuses that we have never even thought of, and therefore humble souls will, after death, have the delightful surprise of discovering that on certain occasions they sinned much less than they thought. All the real excusing He will do. What we have got to take to Him is the inexcusable bit, the sin. We are only wasting our time talking about all the parts which can (we think) be excused. When you go to a Dr. you show him the bit of you that is wrong – say, a broken arm. It would be a mere waste of time to keep on explaining that your legs and throat and eyes are all right. You may be mistaken in thinking so, and anyway, if they are really right, the doctor will know that.

The second remedy is really and truly to believe in the forgiveness of sins. A great deal of our anxiety to make excuses comes from not really believing in it, from thinking that God will not take us to Himself again unless He is satisfied that some sort of case can be made out in our favor. But that is not forgiveness at all. Real forgiveness means looking steadily at the sin, the sin that is left over without any excuse, after all allowances have been made, and seeing it in all its horror, dirt, meanness, and malice, and nevertheless being wholly reconciled to the man who has done it.

When it comes to a question of our forgiving other people, it is partly the same and partly different. It is the same because, here also forgiving does not mean excusing. Many people seem to think it does. They think that if you ask them to forgive someone who has cheated or bullied them you are trying to make out that there was really no cheating or bullying. But if that were so, there would be nothing to forgive. (This doesn’t mean that you must necessarily believe his next promise. It does mean that you must make every effort to kill every taste of resentment in your own heart – every wish to humiliate or hurt him or to pay him out.) The difference between this situation and the one in which you are asking God’s forgiveness is this. In our own case we accept excuses too easily, in other people’s we do not accept them easily enough. As regards my own sins it is a safe bet (though not a certainty) that the excuses are not really so good as I think; as regards other men’s sins against me it is a safe bet (though not a certainty) that the excuses are better than I think. One must therefore begin by attending to everything which may show that the other man was not so much to blame as we thought. But even if he is absolutely fully to blame we still have to forgive him; and even if ninety-nine per cent of his apparent guilt can be explained away by really good excuses, the problem of forgiveness begins with the one per cent of guilt that is left over. To excuse, what can really produce good excuses is not Christian charity; it is only fairness. To be a Christian means to forgive the inexcusable, because God has forgiven the inexcusable in you.

This is hard. It is perhaps not so hard to forgive a single great injury. But to forgive the incessant provocations of daily life – to keep on forgiving the bossy mother-in-law, the bullying husband, the nagging wife, the selfish daughter, the deceitful son – How can we do it? Only, I think, by remembering where we stand, by meaning our words when we say in our prayers each night “Forgive our trespasses* as we forgive those that trespass against us.” We are offered forgiveness on no other terms. To refuse it is to refuse God’s mercy for ourselves. There is no hint of exceptions and God means what He says.

-From ‘The Weight of Glory’ C.S. Lewis

God is always using unexpected things to remind me of what I’m supposed to do. He loves me enough to not let me ignore Him, or His call. He loves me enough to change me and correct me. It takes a real best friend to point out your flaws, and love you into wholeness. I hope I’m the kind of friend that accepts this love from my Jesus and the people He puts in my path.

C.S. Lewis is one of my best friends, that I never got a chance to meet. He’s always encouraging me to be like my Jesus and raise my standards. Reminding me to be myself, because that is exactly who God called me to be. Most people wouldn’t agree with that statement, as it applies to me.

My other best friend gave me similar advice once. “Keep God first. Keep your head up. And don’t ever lower your standards.” I only mention it now because it saved my life and kept me from making the biggest mistake I ever came close to, and it is the best advice I’ve ever been given. I hope that everyone will apply it to their own lives. I have it saved on my iPhone.

Stupid iPhone…. It keeps reminding me to try harder.

So I will read this essay over and over. I will read that text as many times as it takes, because God has told me to forgive them all. It’s not an option. Being obedient is the hardest thing I will ever have to do. And it is the only way to live.

I’m an excellent driver. Definitely.

(If anyone gets that movie reference^, leave it in my comments. You’ll win an invisible high-five)

My dream is back. God has given me many dreams over the years. Some of them are beautiful, others terrifying. Every God given dream I’ve had is meant to teach me something huge, and direct me back to Him and the calling He’s placed on my life. Only one is recurring. And it’s back.

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I’m driving along at my normal speed. I’ve been in this car for all of the time I can remember. It’s the only thing that moves me forward in this life. The only thing I pay attention to is the road directly in front of me. Suddenly I notice that there is no steering wheel in this car. There are no handles on the doors. I can’t control where I’m going and I can’t get out. I start to panic. The car starts going faster and faster and the road ahead of me starts getting bumpier. In the distance, I see a cliff. As I look out the windows, desperate for a way to escape, I see death and destruction. Chaos is all around me, but I barely notice it. I’m flying past it so fast that everything is fuzzy.

But off to the right, steady and unmoving, never leaving my side, is the Tree. It’s taller than the other trees, that are only a greenish blur. Light radiates from all around it, and it’s drenched in white blossoms.

As I turn my focus to the Tree, the chaos around me ceases. The death and destruction fade away. I am no longer careening out of control toward the cliff. As I stare at the Tree I am enveloped in its light, and the greatest sense of calm overwhelms me. I am no longer moving. I am home.

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Jesus has revealed Himself to me in many ways over the years, but this is my favorite.

It’s easy to only pay attention to the road directly in front of me. I was in that place for so long. Moving along at the speed of life and only worrying about the next thing I was supposed to do. Focusing on my next step and the roadmap that had been laid out for me.

When I realized the path I was taking was headed straight for the edge of a cliff, I tried to stop it. But I hadn’t been controlling my own destination anyway. Other people had been making my decisions all along. Everything became chaotic. I started to panic and became depressed. Everywhere I looked things were becoming worse, and there was nothing I could do to change it.

But Jesus….
He never left my side. I hadn’t even noticed that He was there. He was unwavering through all of my mistakes and the chaos that surrounded me. When I turned my attention to Him, where my focus should have always been, He lifted me out of the mess I’d made and enveloped me in His Presence. He brought me home.

The story I just told sounds like the last few months of my life. It’s funny how God allows us to relive things, until they finally resonate in our spirits. I started having that dream in 2007. I was a different kind of mess then, than I am now, but He was always the same. The point was always the same.

I’ll forget the former friends who pretend not to see me in town. I’ll forget the fourth-grade girl drama that’s trying to find me. I’ll forget the pastor who didn’t do his job, and chose the gossip. I’ll forget my plans and my mistakes, my shallow success and my deep failure. I’ll forget the path not taken. I’ll forget the chaos and death and destruction. I’ll stop focusing on the things flying past me, because I choose to.

I’ll focus on my Jesus, and He’ll take me out of this place. He is taller, and stronger than any of the problems that overwhelm me. His beauty makes the ugly fade away. His Light wraps me up, and pulls me out of the darkness.

I’ve had a hard couple of weeks. I’ve felt rejected and belittled and betrayed. I wanted to jump up on my soapbox and scream my side of the story. But I really don’t want respect from people I don’t respect, do I? The need for fairness in this stupid town is the distraction I don’t need. My focus has to stay on Jesus, or the past few months will all be for nothing.

He loves me enough to remind me of things I should already know. He loves me enough to not let me sleep, and send me that dream, night after night, until I get it. If I focus on Him, this crazy life is His, and not my own.

Psalm 18

1I will love thee, O LORD, my strength.

2The LORD is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.

3I will call upon the LORD, who is worthy to be praised: so shall I be saved from mine enemies.

4The sorrows of death compassed me, and the floods of ungodly men made me afraid.

5The sorrows of hell compassed me about: the snares of death prevented me.

6In my distress I called upon the LORD, and cried unto my God: he heard my voice out of his temple, and my cry came before him, even into his ears.

7Then the earth shook and trembled; the foundations also of the hills moved and were shaken, because he was wroth.

8There went up a smoke out of his nostrils, and fire out of his mouth devoured: coals were kindled by it.

9He bowed the heavens also, and came down: and darkness was under his feet.

10And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly: yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind.

11He made darkness his secret place; his pavilion round about him were dark waters and thick clouds of the skies.

12At the brightness that was before him his thick clouds passed, hail stones and coals of fire.

13The LORD also thundered in the heavens, and the Highest gave his voice; hail stones and coals of fire.

14Yea, he sent out his arrows, and scattered them; and he shot out lightnings, and discomfited them.

15Then the channels of waters were seen, and the foundations of the world were discovered at thy rebuke, O LORD, at the blast of the breath of thy nostrils.

16He sent from above, he took me, he drew me out of many waters.

17He delivered me from my strong enemy, and from them which hated me: for they were too strong for me.

18They prevented me in the day of my calamity: but the LORD was my stay.

19He brought me forth also into a large place; he delivered me, because he delighted in me.

(Thanks for this passage Kendra. The day you sent it my life fell apart. God has always sent you at just the right moment.)

I don’t have much to say today… so enjoy some of my favorite pictures.

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I have so much to be thankful for. I am turning my focus back to my Jesus and the blessings He has given me. Next week will be better than last, and I’m going to be a better blogger. 🙂 Thanks for sticking around.

Forks Belong in the Kitchen

KK stole a CD out of my car last night. It was one I had forgotten was in my CD player, and the second it came on I started to cry. It was the CD the-ex-fiance made me when we were stuck right in the middle of world war 3. KK yelled at me for crying (in the most loving way possible) and told me she was taking that CD. “Look at yourself. This isn’t healthy.” I keep my composure most of the time, but when I lose it, it’s not good. I know my sisters hate to see me hurting. I’m looking at the dresser drawer that KK hid my CD in. Now I’m faced with a choice…

I have to decide if I’m going to let him go. We’ll never be back together, but my attitude about that defines the rest of my life. Do I pursue the exciting-crazy-scary call from God, and return to His Presence? Or do I hold on to bitterness and return to the place of idolatry He just called me out of?

I’ve been studying the book of Ruth for the past few days. It paints a beautiful picture of women faced with hard choices. Upon the death of their husbands, and life as they know it, the three women portayed, all make different choices. Orpah, (or OprahWinfrey as I like to call her), hates to leave Naomi, but returns to her own people and her own pagan gods. Her mother-in-law, renames herself Mara. Bitter. She doesn’t have the ability to see beyond her present circumstances, and decides her life is bitter and hopeless. The only sliver of hope she has is to return to her home, and pray that God will provide enough to scrape by on. Ruth refuses to return to the place God brought her out of. She claims Naomi as her own mother, and says there is nothing in the world that will separate them. She eagerly follows her home.

There is so much simple, beautiful, truth here that it is hard to wrap my mind around it.

Naomi had a foundation with God. She knew that it was harvest time and Ruth would be able to glean from the fields what the harvesters left behind. She knew God would provide… a little. So they returned to Bethlehem. They returned to God’s Presence. Naomi says here that she went out full, and she came home empty, because God had dealt very strongly with her…. Me too.

I’ve timidly come back into His Presence, ashamed to have ever left it. I want so badly for my life to mean something to Him… That’s why the rest of this story makes me cry.

As Ruth went out to try and find enough to eat, God directed her footsteps and she ended up in the field of Boaz. She, a foreigner who never belonged there in the first place, immediately had favor in his eyes, and he told his servants to make sure she was taken care of. She gathered more food that day than she had ever hoped, and took it back to her mother-in-law.

I’ve tried to survive on the crumbs that have been dropped at my feet for so long. I’m spiritually malnourished, but in this tearing-down place I’ve found myself in, I’ve found favor in His eyes. He is feeding me more now than I’m used to, and I’m not quite sure what to make of it. I do know, that just like Ruth, I’m not supposed to store this all for myself. Her life was meant to save Naomi’s, and my life is meant to save others.

I think this is why God feeds Elijah in the wilderness, and tells him the journey ahead is too much for him.

When Naomi heard that the kind stranger was Boaz she was floored. He was her “kinsman redeemer”, and she knew that if Ruth were to present herself to him for marriage, they would be saved from their present circumstance. Their circumstances being bitterness, poverty, and fear. They weren’t sure what was coming. They didn’t know how they were going to survive. You’ll have to read the book of Ruth to understand this for yourself, ( and possibly study some ancient Jewish laws (-; ), but when you grasp what this means for you,and for me, you’ll understand my tears.

Ruth put on her cutest outfit, and sweetest perfume and went to lay at the feet of Boaz immediately. A little bit of negotiating and sandal swapping later, and she was his wife. Not too many centuries later, she was an ancestor of Jesus.

The point is this. Orpah chose to leave. The uncertainty was too much for her to handle. Naomi returned to the Presence of God in bitterness. She knew Him well enough to know that she would be taken care of. She didn’t expect much more. Ruth, someone who never belonged there in the first place, went after the nourishment of God eagerly anticipating His blessing. She refused to turn back to her old life and her old gods, and whatever happened after that was fine with her. She was happy to eat the crumbs. She found favor in the sight of a God she barely knew. When she was given the opportunity of marriage, she prepared herself, and presented herself.

Her life, which God redeemed, was never supposed to be hers. She was from Moab. Moab was the son of Lot. The son of Lot, which was born in sin and insignificance. That was her heritage.

My life was destroyed and ripped apart, and now I get to make a choice. Do I return to sin and insignificance because I can’t handle the uncertainty of what’s ahead? Do I allow myself to become bitter, and only expect from God what I can scrape by on? Or do I eagerly go after Him? Do I anticipate His blessing and favor in my life, and prepare myself to be His Bride?

I was never supposed to be here. If you knew my heritage you would know that. I’m supposed to be someone else. Somewhere else. But, just like Ruth, God started redeeming my life a long time ago. She understood that when she refused to leave Naomi. We were both given the same opportunity. An opportunity to allow God to transform and redeem our lives, and use us to change the world. I don’t say this in arrogance. It scares the crap out of me. I don’t have details of how God wants to use me. I’m completely uncertain of what’s ahead. I just know he wants to redeem me from the place Ruth and I both found ourselves in. Bitterness, insignificance, and loneliness.

I’m holding on to my Jesus, like she held on to Naomi, and I’m praying for the strength to follow Him into the harvest fields. It’s there I’ll meet my Destiny and my Redeemer. To be His Bride, I will prepare myself, allow Him to purify me, and offer myself at His feet.

Romans 12:1 Therefore I urge you, brethren, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies a living and holy sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is your spiritual service of worship.