Baptism And Open Doors {Breaking Free}

This time last year I was leaning over a pool publicly baptizing someone in the name of Jesus as that church community looked on with pride and joy. It was my privilege as a community pastor there on Easter day 2017.

One year later I stand humbly beside the pool, one among the crowd, as I watch my son be baptized at a new church by the campus pastor. It was a mixture of many emotions, each of which I surrendered to God so that I could continue to break free from the past.

Life is short and each day belongs to Jesus.

My first Easter weekend at Saddleback was a blessing and I chose to focus on the present abundance rather than old grief over what has been lost. God is doing something new in my life and I want to fully engage and participate in it. I want to be mindful of the present moment rather than dwell on memories which hold me back from breaking free.

If I am not mindful of my emotional health I can easily fall back into old thought patterns, the very ones which sabotaged relationships and destroyed opportunities in my past.

This last Sunday the Easter theme Pastor Rick chose to speak on was Walking Through The Door To Freedom.

“You don’t have to be behind bars to be in prison,” said Pastor Rick.

Sometimes a prison can look like a well-worn thought pattern that can’t be broken without divine intervention.

And so we must come before our King and seek freedom.

Do you ever feel small and unfulfilled? I think this is the constant battle of the human soul, to abide in the uncomfortable places where we realize our deep lack.

To realize that nothing satisfies like Jesus, not food or social media or ministry or books or writing or music or sabotage or anger or regret.

To simply realize that we are terribly thirsty and hungry for Him.

In this way the broken pieces and weak places can become beautiful things as they gently remind us of our humble humanity which is dwelling in full dependence upon a God of loving provision.

He allows us to feel the full weight of our emptiness so that we will walk through the door of His house and come to dine at His table.

“Every experience, even the most unwelcome, if offered to Jesus, can become your gateway to joy.”

–Elisabeth Elliot

As I go into the week after Easter, my agenda is very simple- draw near to the Spirit and receive love. 

This can be done when you are busy or when you are still, whether in emotional turmoil or serenity.

It is especially important to keep the plan simple when you are recovering from a season where many things have fallen apart.

“Sometimes God has to shake your foundation to set you free,” said Rick that day.

So I reflected on Easter Sunday how last year God did this very type of shaking in my life in order to wake me up and set me on a path to freedom.

I resigned from church ministry in September of 2017 and it broke my heart worse than anything I had ever known.

Ever since then I have been afraid to serve on a ministry team again.

“Fear causes you to miss God’s plan for your life.” This was our pastor’s straightforward reminder.

And it’s very true, especially in my case.

God’s plan is to free you so He can bless you.

The freedom for me this past weekend was knowing I could step down and let someone else take my place next to my son in the baptismal and still be totally at peace with all of it.

The blessing this past Easter weekend was that it was also my first time to wear a church-team logo in six months.

I donned the black Saddleback Kids t-shirt, let all my hair down for the first time in just as many months, and I served in the kindergarten classroom just like I did before my last church ministry fell apart.

Sometimes starting all over again is an unexpected joy, and building up from what you have learned is an even greater victory.

I walked through that kindergarten classroom door on Sunday in the same way that many Saddleback members walked through the big blue door set up for rededication to God- with a desire to break free.

Romans 8:1-2

8 So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus. ² And because you belong to him, the power^[a] of the life-giving Spirit has freed you^[b] from the power of sin that leads to death.

I can break out from the prison of condemnation because even though I still have a great deal left to learn, I am declared free through the death of my old self. I can walk through the door to my true purpose and my eternal calling- to dwell with God as His beloved, and to serve His people from a place of abundant blessing.

I am free to have an entirely new mindset which carries forth from the wreckage of the past and the powerful healing of forgiveness.

“You have no idea what God wants to do in your life unless you let Him free you from the prison of unforgiveness,” Rick reminded us.

I held onto offense at myself and others for many months before I could lay down my pride, face my fear and enter into a church family again.

And out of the hard lesson has come a great blessing- on the same weekend that I joined a ministry team, my son chose to be baptized.

Had I never forgiven, I would have not been given the opportunity to witness this special moment in this special way.

“Why forgive? Because God has forgiven me, resentment makes me miserable, and I am going to need more forgiveness in the future.” When Rick preached this, I nodded in silent assent.

Certainly I will need more forgiveness in the future, first for myself and then probably for others. No church family or ministry team will ever be perfect on this side of eternity, just as I will never be without shortcomings in this lifetime.

But this week God set me free to try again. I stepped through the door to freedom in so many ways this Easter season.

So I will go forward into my new serving responsibilities with perspective, reverence, joy and awareness of my weaknesses. I do not serve as a church member, a team member, a lonely outsider or a wounded soul. Nor do I serve from a place of empty longing.

Rather, I serve as a child of God from an abundance of blessing as a beloved daughter of the King.

I walked through that kindergarten door to break free from the inner voices that say I am unworthy, incapable, insignificant or foolish. No, I will listen to that voice that says I am beloved. I will give myself grace. I will silence shame. I will embrace freedom.

 I will step right over fear and find peace and contentment on the other side, the kind that only Jesus can bring.

“Break out of prison by remembering God loves me and He has a good plan for my life,” said our pastor.

With all the gratitude I have learned so far I will go into this week after Easter as nothing more or less than a beloved child of God. I will do laundry, wash dishes, fold clothes, pick up toys and shop for groceries with a simple awareness that life is short and each day belongs to my holy and good Father who loves me and sets me free and blesses me with His goodness.

I will not be afraid of my lack, but rather I will present it to God and say to Him, “Look, Father, I don’t know what to do with this piece, but it’s uncomfortable and I want it away from me.”

And He will gladly receive my empty soul and fill it with His abundant love.

How? I’m not exactly sure, because if I knew I would be totally fulfilled already. And many days I still feel unsatisfied and longing for more. But I believe that somehow He takes my honesty and turns it into blessing through the careful weaving of His plan with my life.

I know that this past weekend God used my new church family to reveal Gods blessings in the form of new steps towards freedom from my old self.

I found joy in serving on a team again, and I found joy in my son’s baptism. I found joy in my new church family. I found joy in stepping back and allowing another pastor to baptize my son. I found joy in stepping in and serving kindergartners.

It is not the story I would have written, but it is the future I am blessed to have.

“Joy comes from seeing the complete fulfillment of the specific purpose for which I was created and born again, not from successfully doing something of my own choosing.”

–Oswald Chambers

Life is short and each day belongs to Jesus. So I will thank Him for reminding me of my humanity and lovingly responding to my need for grace.

I abide in His provision even when I remain hungry and thirsty for more, and I wait for more understanding to be given in His timing and not mine.

2 Corinthians 3:17

¹⁷ For the Lord is the Spirit, and wherever the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.

And so this Easter weekend I was free to serve again in ministry and to celebrate with my tribe of Jesus-people as my son was baptized in their midst.

I am free to change, to learn, to surrender, to grow, to belong.

And He leans down and whispers the word “beloved” over me and my entire life story as I continue to walk through the new doors He opens for me.

Thank you, God, for Easter Weekend, baptism and open doors.

Amen.

Rebecca

~*~

Support my work by following my page.

To read my story

or view my creative writing,

please visit my original blog site.

All The Things {It Is Finished}- Good Friday

There are two options available to us in every circumstance of every day: love or fear. That is why perfect love casts out fear, because they cannot co-exist. So what are we most afraid of?

For me, it’s the fear of not belonging.

 It’s one thing to be loved. It’s quite another thing altogether to belong.

I have found a safe place to sit and receive love. I sit and listen to the Spirit. It’s a discipline and a practice which is far from perfect, but still it brings comfort and peace.

I sit with my back to the window, so that the sunshine and the breeze come in from behind me, and I wrap myself in my favorite shawl. I sit silently without moving, listening to the birds in the trees and the wind-chimes on the patio. I hold my tea-cup of water in both hands and I dwell with myself and my God.

I try to sort through all the things that bother me, the truth and the lies. I try to find myself, my faith, my Jesus.

I listened to Henri Nouwen’s sermon on "The Life Of The Beloved". He asked his audience to consider the three main lies we tell ourselves- I am what I DO, I am what I HAVE, and I am what people SAY about me.

He asks us to remember that we are each beloved of God, and our only true identity is child of God. Nothing else defines who we are. Nothing else.

It is finished.

What are the lies I tell myself? I don’t belong, I am too much for people, I am insignificant, I am invisible, I am incapable of connection, I have no ministry, I don’t make a difference.

My logical self knows these are lies, but the emotional child inside hasn’t been convinced.

I have been watching a bird trying to repurpose an abandoned nest this week. All throughout the day she comes with things to patch and rebuild this old nest which has gone unused for several years.

I don’t know why I left it there, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. Perhaps because it represented such hard work followed by failure, as the original builders were driven away by territorial neighbors. They lost their babies in the fray, and they never came back.

I watch this new bird as she is building up from the ruins, and I think about facing hardship and piecing back together that which was damaged- honoring the past while moving on into new things.

This is hard.

So I sit on that seat by the window and I dwell with my feelings, my thoughts, my spirit and my God.

Today is Good Friday.

It is finished.

That’s what I heard Pastor Rick talk about last night as I tuned into the live feed on FB. I was hoping to catch my favorite female pastor who sometimes teaches online, and when I missed her session I ended up watching the Saddleback Good Friday sermon instead:

The Job Has Been Completed! What Jesus Finished by Dying on the Cross.

The response within me was to post my heart out because I was so deeply moved- not necessarily by Pastor Rick’s words, although they were good.

I was moved by the idea that Jesus said “it is finished”.

John 19:30

When Jesus had tasted it, he said, “It is finished!” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

What is finished?

This is what welled up in my heart as I asked myself what this meant for me this Easter season:

Looking for closure? Trying to make it turn out perfect? Ahhh, me too. Sometimes I try to force the ending of things I want to have control over- but God says "no, let Me finish it. Let me write the ending, my child. I will finish this chapter for you." That's what Good Friday reminds me about this year. There is nothing that we need to DO because it has been DONE and it is FINISHED. In my own life I struggle with finding peace and acceptance when everything is not completed how I want- things left undone will leave me unsettled. The message of Good Friday is a reminder that there will be some things which never have closure or completion in this life. BUT nothing will be left unfinished when we get to the other side and God welcomes us into eternity. Because He finished for us that which we could never complete on our own, and it encompasses EVERYTHING, including the stuff we feel is left undone. So even if something feels unfinished in this life, rest in knowing that what He has done means I don't have to DO anything except receive persuasive grace with abundant gratitude. God sees the ending of our story and the final chapter says that things which were left undone are now FINISHED in Him. Sometimes closure looks like a cross and sounds like a declaration- It Is Finished. This includes EVERYTHING, even those pieces of our journey without happy endings in this life. Thank you Jesus. Amen. #EasterAtSaddleback

This was the start of 24 hours of deep contemplation for me, a process which bled over into Good Friday.

I asked myself these questions:

~What am I most afraid of?  Not making a difference.

~What are the lies I tell myself about who I am? I am small and insignificant.

~And what was finished on Good Friday? All the things left undone. So many things.

I listened to a podcast from Fun Therapy by Mike Foster in which a woman named Annie Downs does an on-air therapy session. She talked about feelings of rejection and what it means to truly belong.

Such a powerful interview, and I cannot recommend it highly enough to my readers: Fun Therapy is an amazing listen.

The guest, Annie, talked about how we sometimes try to deal with pain by numbing out or medicating/managing the emotion instead of facing it head on.

So I asked myself another question as I sipped from my cup, there in the quiet sun on a Good Friday.

How do I medicate?

 Off the top of my head, I can answer with four things that seem most apparent:

~Eating- No I don’t have an eating disorder, but yes I can sometimes use food as comfort in order to cope. When I am sad I consume sugar like there is no tomorrow. Or I chew gum like a fiend. Or both. It has been especially noticeable the past few months- I am actively making a change in my diet (cutting candy) and gum habit (only after a meal), and the resulting struggle proves just how often I use food to make me happy.

~Cleaning- I feel the most productive and useful while I vacuum, fold laundry, make beds, clean up toys, pack lunches and wash dishes. My self worth goes up because, as Mr. Nouwen pointed out, I sometimes believe the lie that I am what I DO with my hands.

~Social Media- Sometimes this is a blessing and other times it’s a curse. When I am in a low and empty place, social media can be a way to find a quick fix for loneliness. I am trying to become more mindful of what mood I am in when I surf, and what I am seeking when I share.

~Music- My earphones and my iTunes are wonderful when I am feeling whole. But when I need to process an emotion, these can become an easy distraction from thinking too deeply. I can drown out the things I don’t want to think about. Even if it’s worship music, it can still become an idol.

I am learning to stop trying to manage the emotion and start surrendering it to Jesus.

So I find myself spending a good amount of time sitting by the window in my bedroom today, back to the sun as I contemplate Good Friday.

What is finished?

All the things left undone.

I need to teach my body that it does not need to medicate emotion, because what I need has already been accomplished for me.

What I need is already provided.

I just need to receive love today.

I smile at the pillow that sits across from me on my bed, which says “all you need is love and the beach.”

Yes, because it is finished, so all I need to do today is sit with Jesus on the shore of my tumultuous sea of thoughts and feelings and simply receive His love.

Tonight I will go and worship with my church family at Saddleback; I will lovingly take the bread and the cup. My neighbors invited me to a different Sadddleback campus than the one I serve on Sunday. But it doesn’t matter what church I find myself singing at, the emotion is always the same- I love the church and I just want to worship with my beloved tribe of Jesus people.

I go to lay down my fears, my management tools, my doubts. I surrender it all to Him once again.

I will nail all. the. things. to the cross.

And tomorrow I will go and see my son get baptized, and I will witness how God has brought such good out of such a hard season.

And I will be grateful for this Good Friday.

All the things which feel undone, the past which brings pain, that chapter is written and closed out.

There are two options available to us in every circumstance of every day: love or fear. That is why perfect love casts out fear, because they cannot coexist. So what am I most afraid of?

I am deeply afraid of not belonging.

It’s one thing to be loved. It’s quite another thing altogether to belong.

I watch the little bird on my patio as she builds up from the ruins, and I think about facing hardship and piecing back together that which was damaged- honoring the past while moving on into new things.

This is hard.

So I sit on that seat by the window and I dwell with all the things: my feelings, my thoughts, my spirit and my God.

Today is Good Friday.

And so I receive this today: I am beloved of God, and my only true identity is child of God. Nothing else defines who I am.

All the things that are still left undone and imperfect, they can have closure because Jesus said it is finished.

It is finished.

Amen.

Rebecca

~*~

Support my work by following my page.

To read my story

or view my creative writing,

please visit my original blog site.

Choosing To Bless {Dear Church}

Dear Church- Please forgive me. I have wronged you. In my attitude regarding our differences I have not been gracious or kind. I have sat in judgement of you.

I have allowed a bad experience to taint all of Gods' people. I drew lines and threw labels and cast accusation on people I did not know.

And with time, God has shown me that the love of His church, for all its imperfection and flaws, can still be genuine and nurturing and welcoming.

I want to start again. I want to love you better.

I want to bless you from an abundance of love, because you are my dear church family.

The truth is we need each other and we are better together.

I forgive you and I’m sorry. How may I serve you now? What gifts can I bring?

I have shared my story with you because it was the first fruits of my transformation. This is the obvious contribution which I have made, but which now seems to be lacking continuing momentum as I press forward into more.

Claiming my story has been integral to my growth in moving forward, but holding onto the bitterness will close the door of opportunity for our reconciliation. To love you well I must release you from your mistakes, as you must release me from mine.

Dear church. You were part of my failure. Now you are part of my victory. For this I am grateful.

For all that you hurt me, if I had to do it all over again, I would. Certainly I would make different choices, but if I had to endure the pain again, I would. Because God has put a love in my heart for you that no amount of misunderstanding or disappointment could ever erase.

I love you even more now, church, because I see you and you see me, and we can come to an understanding that surpasses all past failures.

I listened with you on Sunday to the guest pastor, Dr. Ed Stetzer, as he spoke about Choosing to Let God Use And Bless You.

“This week and beyond you will be choosing to bless others on mission,” he said.

Yes, there have been many firsts since we gave each other a second chance.

Most notably, this week I served on one of your serve teams- it’s been a long time. This past Sunday I chose to bless you from the work of my hands and the service of my time to show that I still care. 

This week I took yet another step towards emotional and spiritual transformation, thanks to you, my church.

It was a risk, but it was worth it. And I realized this:

I was wrong about so many things, like people and love and community and forgiveness and second chances.

The rejection from one Jesus person does not signify rejection from the entire Jesus community.

So on Sunday, for the first time in many months, I showed up at 7am, when the truck was full of rolling carts and boxes that had not been fully unloaded, when the air was crisp and the classrooms were still cold, when the campus was empty except for the dedicated few who rise early.

This is still my favorite part of Sunday. I love our early mornings together.

I have prayed to love this about you again, and here I am now writing it with joy.

Thank you, Jesus. It’s the simple things that make me happy now, the little things which I will never take for granted again.

 “Does God consistently answer your prayers?” Dr. Stetzer asked us on Sunday.

Does He?

I talk to God often, but usually it’s about what I’m currently frustrated with rather than what I hope for the future. As I have brought my conscious awareness to the persuasive abundance of blessing God has poured over me though you, the church, there has been a shift in what I hear in His replies to me.

I hear things like “I see what the church has done to you and I will make things right. Trust me- that which has wounded you can also heal you. I can use anyone and any place- my power is not limited by the name they may call themselves. My work goes deeper than words or titles or denominations.”

Some of my recent prayers, the mindful ones which come from a place of abiding in the present moment and surrendering fear and worry, some of these prayers have begun to be answered.

I asked for second chances, friendships, a ministry role among the followers of Jesus.

I asked God for my transformation story

to continue on.

God said YES. He used you, the church, to open me back up so I could surrender to His promises. 

You, the very people I have feared the most.

He speaks to me in subtle messages in my heart- “You are loved, these are your people, too. Let’s work together, I want to bless you, so move when I move and always know that I am proud of you. Don’t give up on My story for your life. I know what I am doing, and I can accomplish it here and now amongst these people, in this place. Be still and trust. Watch and listen.”

He also speaks to me in loud proclamations, which come in the form of personal victories accomplished by you and through you, dear church-

~Victory looks like going to a leadership conference and hearing about the power of forgiveness within church ministry.

~It looks like the words “I forgive you” in the most simple and straightforward way possible, not for the sake of another this time, but finally extending those words for me and my own sake, regardless of the outcome, the reception or the impact.

~It looks like planting a seed of deep healing within myself that can grow from the inside out.

~Victory looks like like driving home down an old road with a new attitude on a Sunday afternoon.

~It looks like taking an entire afternoon to go shopping for myself alone at the mall, investing in new clothes after many months of not caring.

~It looks like doing my makeup for the first time in 2018 because I was too weary and too wary to do otherwise.

~Vicotry is showing up at 7am to help set up the children’s ministry rooms.

~It looks like getting my team t-shirt. It looks like getting one for my son.

~It looks like having your face staring up at you from the church bulletin and realizing you are actually being noticed.

~It’s allowing my writing to float freely along on a vast sea of content and being peacefully OK with not getting noticed, read, followed or promoted.

~Its about realizing you are making noticeable progress on the road to emotional freedom.

I am tasting emotional victory one day at a time.

Dear church, some of you are reading Pastor Holladay’s book with me, Putting It Together Again When It's All Fallen Apart.

I love this line from page 112- “Be humble enough to recognize how easily you could slip back into the old patterns that got your relationships in trouble. Build in some new patterns. With every success there is a slump. With every mountaintop, there is a valley. We always expect a loss of energy after a failure, but we are often surprised by the physical and mental slump that follows a success.”

I think here of our brother Elijah, who in 1 Kings 19 experiences the depression that comes from peaking in ministry. He wished to die after accomplishing the greatest church service ever known to mankind.

Because one hard thing you taught me, church, is that leadership is painful. Especially when your expectations are for the bent and broken people of Jesus to be God Himself incarnate.

Dear church, can you forgive me for holding you up to an impossible standard and blaming you when you couldn’t measure up?

The truth is, I just want to love you and I want you to love me.

I want to help lead you, which means sometimes making the hard choices before you do, and being the first one to take the first step towards reconciliation. This is why ministry sometimes hurts.

Pain is the mark of leadership. And for me, it’s hard to let go of pain, because the void it reveals is empty and full of frightening possibility.

Pastor Holladay also wrote this about the pain of serving: “It is a combination of the natural letdown from the adrenaline of the success and the emotional depletion that comes from the giving of yourself. Be prepared for it. Don’t let it overwhelm you, and let God carry you through.”

I let this very thing overwhelm me, church, and it brought out my messiest self in your very midst.

But you have helped me see that all is not wasted.

When I watched Pastor Rick do the Easter Prayer Breakfast for pastors this morning, I was struck by his testimony and his statement-

“Your greatest hurt can become your greatest ministry.”

And it did, through you, dear church! I once wrote this about you back in my confession:

The church is a community that reminds me of my highest highs and lowest lows.

We are coming up together now from of a low point, which requires lots of trust and intentionality. So to declare my determination to heal our past, today I showed up for you. And I will do it again.

I decided to try meeting you in the middle, somewhere between past hurts and future victories.

I choose to bless you, beloved church.

So I showed up at 7am to set up on a Sunday morning, and I will do so again and again without needing to be asked. Because I’m starting over. I’m building a foundation. I’m tasting victory, and I am trying to allow myself the space to recover from the history between us. I want to show you how much I still care.

Emotional progress is wonderfully difficult to navigate, so I will not go it alone. I will make connections and allow myself to be noticed- and as you have shown me, I am indeed being seen.

A deep thanks to the Jesus people who are reaching out to me and helping me to trust again.

I will choose to bless and let God use my gifts to serve you, church- and I will do it scared, because otherwise it will never get done.

I cannot bless from a place of bitterness, so you motivate and encourage me to keep letting that piece go. But I discovered this week that it is possible and sometimes necessary to bless from an initial place of fear.

Because I am scared to love you, after everything that has happened between us. This is why I write so much about you.

I used to write here for the sake of our past. And my readership has dwindled and that’s OK. Because I have now begun to write for the sake of our future together. And I don’t need a big audience to make a big difference.

It’s no longer about numbers, it’s about connection and contribution to a community I’m committed to loving, in good times and bad.

Dear church, we have quite a history. Its full of so much baggage. As I continue to sort through the past, God is showing me that your love, for all its imperfection and flaws, can still be genuine and nurturing and welcoming.

Let’s start again. I want to love you better.

I am here to bless you, beloved church.

I forgive you and I’m sorry.

The truth is we need each other and we really are better together.

Just like Dr. Stetzer said, “This week and beyond you will be choosing to bless others on mission.”

Yes, I will.

For us, this mission looks like moving towards each other at a pace we can both trust, in God’s timing and with a servant’s heart. It looks like moving with the Spirit and meeting in the middle.

Dear church, I look forward to blessing you and being blessed by you. I look forward to a fresh outpouring of persuasive abundance.

Let’s celebrate the small victories together on the road to rebuilding our relationship.

See you all on Easter Sunday, my friends. God willing, I will be there at 7am to set up and serve your kids.

With A Hear Full Of Love,

Rebecca

~*~

Support my work by following my page.

To read my story

or view my creative writing,

please visit my original blog site.