Low Self Esteem

I've spent some time lately meditating on a post from an old friend. Good ol' John Piper once again hits me where I need it.

http://iblogodei.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-have-low-self-esteem-because-i-esteem.html

One of the main reasons we love our church:

Balanced Theology

on suffering

one-issue politics

It's pretty interesting how Obama's election has sparked so many heated conversations among Christians about abortion. I'm pretty quiet when it comes to politics, but I couldn't help but share this great article by John Piper: "One-Issue Politics...", also posted on my friend Justin's blog. Piper has a gift of making confusing issues seem so clear.

round 3, fight

"They can't find a heartbeat. They sent me in for an ultrasound. There's no baby."

"What?!?" In the middle of a number of things at work, I had almost forgotten that Kari had gone in for her routine 12-week checkup.

I couldn't think. And yet it seemed like my mind was racing at the same time. It must have been a mistake. Sometimes they just can't find the heartbeat with those little machines they use. But wait, there was the ultrasound.

"What do you mean?"

"There's no heartbeat. I don't know what to do. I can't even cry. I'm just numb."

Pause.

"So they tried to find a heartbeat, and when they couldn't they sent you to get an ultrasound?"

"Right. They couldn't find it. Then they thought they heard a flutter so they sent me in for an ultrasound. But they said it looks like the baby stopped growing at 8 or 9 weeks."

I was just silent. Absolutely stunned. Totally blindsided. I can't really find better words to use than those. I described the first experience in a similar way (this is our 3rd miscarriage in a row), and this experience was of course similar.

And yet it was so different. The absolutely stunned from the 1st experience just seems to pale in comparison with the absolutely stunned from the 3rd. (The 2nd experience was just different altogether....it happened much earlier in the pregnancy and we had many more warning signs) There were absolutely no warning signs with this one. It was a routine checkup. And Kari was the farthest along with this one. 12 weeks. We were so close to being "in the clear."

So close.

Of course, I guess you're never really in the clear when it comes to a life. To this day I still go into Mason's room after he's asleep, pick up his little wrist, and count the pulses from his little beating heart. It's not so much because I'm overly worried about his well-being, but it keeps me amazed at the fragility of that little life. There is absolutely no reason why those lungs should keep sucking in air...and that heart should keep on beating...except for God Himself sustaining that life. Why He hasn't done that for Mason's 3 unborn siblings, I'm not sure.

I left work and rushed to the hospital. I found Kari in a room discussing the situation with our doctor while Mason played on the floor. A good guy, our doctor. God bless those doctors who work so hard at also being good counselors. No doctor can escape the situation of also having to do some counseling. However not every doctor understands the importance of being well-rounded in this way, especially on top of everything else to be concerned about.

I shook his hand and could see on his face that he hurt for us. As I got to know him I became convinced that those emotions were sincere. The conversation was somewhat of a blur, but he presented our options for testing and tried to instill some hope in us in the process.

We went home.

The experience of being emotionally drained is relative. I thought I had experienced emotional drainage plenty of times before, however I don't think I have ever been as emotionally emptied as I was after this experience. My perspective on life was suddenly through a lens of sadness. Sadness can be a pretty complex emotion. But it can be very simple too. This seemed to be more of a simple sadness. Not necessarily depression. Not necessarily anger. Not necessarily regret, or even resentment. Just sadness. Maybe some hopelessness. Certainly some helplessness. Lost. Confused. In the dark. Where do we go now? What do we do? What if Mason ends up being an only child? What about adoption? I don't want to adopt. Or at least I'm just not ready to adopt. What if we can't have any more kids and we never find out why?

So many questions. No answers.

The next day Kari had a D & C, a surgical operation to remove the baby and tissue from her uterus. Everything went fine. There's nothing abnormal about her uterus. The doctor presented this as good news. And it is. But our first reactions were actually ones of frustration. We still have no answers to what's going on.

So we wait. In the midst of all the pain involved in these experiences over the last six months, waiting is still perhaps the hardest part.

And during this period I'm finding that I'm having to choose to fight. Against the temptation to lose hope. Against the temptation to question God. Against the temptation to fall into some sort of depression because life is turning out to be so different than what we had dreamed it to be. Fighting these temptations becomes harder with every miscarriage. However it also becomes all the more necessary in order to stay afloat.

I don't say all of this so that you will feel bad for us. I think I say all of this simply because I desire to be known. I assume that if you got this far it's because you care for us and are praying for us. I guess I just want to communicate a little more deeply what the experience has been like. I pray that some good can come from it. However even if no one reads this, it's just plain therapeutic for me to express these things in writing. It helps me process the confusion.

Let me also take the chance to recognize those of you who have been loving on us. Thank you so much for the calls, texts, flowers, and meals. In particular, the Elgards have been absolutely amazing. Both Robin and Josh have watched Mason for us the first three days after it happened. Robin has coordinated meals with other amazing friends from church, and she was there throughout Kari's surgery. Robs, I hope you're reading this because you need to know how much we love and appreciate you. I really don't know what we would have done if you weren't there for us in those amazing ways. I thank God for friends like you two.

Thank you all for your continued prayers. Prayer is such a mystery to me, but I know it's powerful. We don't take it lightly when we're told we are being prayed for. We know it's the only way to get through these things and come out on the other side. We've also been encouraged by this verse, which has been quoted to us by numerous friends: "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." Psalm 34:18

I'll end this long post with a poem that has been near and dear to our hearts through all this, posted also on Kari's blog. I'm not usually one to pay attention to poetry, but this one hit the spot at the right time for us.

Wait
by Russell Kelfer

Desperately, helplessly, longingly, I cried;
Quietly, patiently, lovingly, God replied.
I pled and I wept for a clue to my fate...
and the Master so gently said,"Wait."

"Wait? you say wait?" my indignant reply.
"Lord, I need answers, I need to know why!
Is your hand shortened? Or have you not heard?
By faith I have asked, and I'm claiming your Word.

My future and all to which I relate
hangs in the balance and you tell me to Wait?
I'm needing a 'yes', a go-ahead sign.
Or even a 'no,' to which I'll resign.

You promised, dear Lord, that if we believe,
We need but to ask, and we shall receive.
Lord, I've been asking, and this is my cry:
I'm weary of asking! I need a reply."

Then quietly, softly, I learned of my fate
as my Master replied again, "Wait."
So I slumped in my chair, defeated and taut,
and grumbled to God, "So, I'm waiting...for what?"

He seemed then to kneel, and His eyes met with mine...
and He tenderly said, "I could give you a sign.
I could shake the heavens and darken the sun.
I could raise the dead and cause mountains to run.

I could give all you seek and pleased you would be.
You'd have what you want, but you wouldn't know Me.
You'd not know the depth of My love for each saint.
You'd not know the power that I give to the faint.

You'd not learn to see through clouds of despair;
you'd not learn to trust just by knowing I'm there.
You'd not know the joy of resting in Me
when darkness and silence are all you can see.

You'd never experience the fullness of love
when the peace of My spirit descends like a dove.
You would know that I give, and I save, for a start,
But you'd not know the depth of the beat of My heart.

The glow of My comfort late into the night,
the faith that I give when you walk without sight.
The depth that's beyond getting just what you ask
From an infinite God who makes what you have last.

You'd never know should your pain quickly flee,
what it means that My grace is sufficient for thee.
Yes, your dearest dreams overnight would come true,
but oh, the loss if I lost what I'm doing in you.

So, be silent, my child, and in time you will see
that the greatest of gifts is to truly know me.
And though oft My answers seem terribly late,
My most precious answer of all is still "Wait".

But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint. Isaiah 40:31

hold it together now, just hold it together

**deep/serious blog alert** (sorry, I guess it's feast or famine with these things)

I like the word "epiphany." It sounds cool. E-pi-pha-ny. It always nudges my curious bug when someone tells me they just had one. Actually, they usually say they had a "sort-of" one. Probably because a real epiphany seems like it should be bigger than something that happens as often as once a week. Or in Justin's case, twice daily. Still, there's really not a better word to explain the mental experience, so I will continue to use it.

epiphany
- noun
1. an appearance or manifestation, esp. of a deity
2. a literary work presenting, usually symbolically, such a moment of revelation and insight
3. a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.

Let's go with definition #3.

This morning on my way to work I had an epiphany.

As I've shared before, I have the emotions typically found in a woman. (I'm not worried about offending my wife with that statement...she can sometimes have the sensitivity of a man. We balance each other out.)

It's not that I'm easily drawn to tears, or even that I have an overly dramatic personality, but those danged emotions have a lot of control over what I say, what I do, and how I generally perceive my world.

Growing up, the general concept I learned was to control those emotions. CONTROL THOSE SISSY EMOTIONS!!! A man's man just doesn't let them out except for absolutely warranted circumstances. Take Jesus, for example. At one point the ultimate man's man himself wept. But his buddy just died. So it was warranted.

Either this, or else a man's man just simply doesn't have many emotions.
I have always had them. Plenty of them. So I'm a sissy (hold your tongue, Padre). And my conclusion is that I must CONTROL them.

So my epiphany this morning involved a realization that I'm simply not succeeding at doing this. I rarely have. And frankly it's a lot of work that I'm just not sure is worth it.

So here it is: while trying so hard my whole life to control my emotions, it turns out that my emotions have been controlling me.

Did I disappoint you with that revelation? Somewhat anti-climactic? Well it was huge for me.

This led to the conclusion that I must not let my emotions control me. Here's the relieving part: not letting them control me does not equal pushing them down. About a year ago at a horribly-done marriage retreat/workshop, the one bright spot of the weekend was learning that emotions are circumstantial. They are simply reactions to what is going on around me. Reactions to things that are outside of my control. So why is it so burdensome to try and control emotions? They aren't meant to be pushed down. In the realm of personal responsibility, emotions are neutral.

The realm of responsibility in relation to God is somewhat similar to everyone. We should live moral lives. I must live a moral life. When emotions control my actions, it is harder to live a moral life. When emotions can be regarded and also left out of the equations that produce actions, it is easier to control those actions. For a person who experiences less emotions, it is easier to base decisions solely on moral judgments. For a person who experiences more emotions, it is easier to base decisions more on what will produce better feelings.....on what will produce pleasure instead of discomfort.

So there's my epiphany for this week. Emotions are great. Pleasures are great. Comfort is great. But when those things control my decisions, morals often take a back seat. Morals are too important to let that happen. When I separate emotions from my judgments, it's easier to exercise control over my actions. And in the end, the most pleasure is produced from moral judgments, not emotions (can I get some props from you Piper fans).

Why is it that when you write out these epiphanies, you suddenly experience a "well duh, you already knew this before" moment? I guess seeing old truths through new lenses can make all the difference in the world. Sometimes that's all it takes in order to transfer truth into your own personal reality.

oxymoron

I'm watching the documentary Jesus Camp that I rented from the library. Ugh.
But it's like watching Charlie Goes To Candy Mountain (YouTube) or John Malkovich in In The Line of Fire. I just can't look away. I know it highlights only one of the most extreme examples of the American Penecostal movement, but it makes "American Christianity" look like an oxymoron.

The lesbian pastor just finished denouncing Satan from messing with the microphones and Powerpoint, and a counselor just walked into the boys dorm and reprimanded them for telling ghost stories because they don't honor God. I thought ultra-conservatives were the most legalistic Christians, but it looks like they don't hold a candle to ultra-charismatics. So far I've heard that Harry Potter lovers are going to hell and that God only likes to go to churches where people are dancing and yelling Hallelujah.

Kari just walked in and after watching for 5 minutes said, "These guys are freaks."
I'm with you, babe.

Alright, so it's not like Charlie Goes To Candy Mountain. I'm actually going to turn this one off early. Maybe I'll finally give Harry Potter a chance.

Who can accept it?

Iron Will. Remember that movie? I think the best thing about that movie was the title.
Gotta love the double-meaning titles. Family Matters. The Santa Clause. Get Smart.

I can't think of any more.

I've never been much of a visionary. But lately I've started developing all sorts of dreams, desires and goals for our future. I typically like to think I'm pretty laid back. Open to whatever life throws my way.
But I'm slowly realizing that I really love to have control.
Why do we (as people in general) spend so much time trying to perfect our little personal kingdoms? So much energy and thought goes into making everything about my life exactly how I want it to be. I don't like that my lawn is spotty so I go buy a quality fertilizer. I don't like the way my clothes are fitting me so I spend just a little more so I can look good. I don't like the way my soap smells so I complain about it until Kari buys new stuff. And so on.

I am so not laid back.

Recent events have caused me to ponder how fragile and out of my control my life actually is. And it's freaking me out. I realized how devastated I would be if just a couple pending decisions swung the opposite way of how I'm expecting them to turn out. I've got a pretty good idea of what our life could look like in a year. Yet in a blink of an eye, a couple things could happen differently than expected, and all of a sudden life would be a drastically different situation. Would God actually let that happen? He wants me to be happy, right?

While I was meditating on this, a "random" Bible phrase popped into my head. "This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?" I didn't know where it came from, much less the biblical context, so when I got home I looked it up. John 6 has 71 verses. The Bread of Life passage begins in verse 25 and goes all the way to the end of the chapter.

After Jesus argues with the Pharisees about coming down from heaven as the bread of life, he says something crazy sounding. "Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life ....... The one who feeds on me will live because of me."
Excuse me? It's easy to call the Pharisees dense because we so easily see the big picture of what he's saying. But what about his disciples? "On hearing this many of his disciples said, 'This is a hard teaching. Who can accept it?'
....... from this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him."

I rarely choose to see this side of God. It's just not as tidy. It feels more out of control.

And then the truth I've known all my life hits me in my reality. I'm never in control. What business do I have trying to make life feel like I can determine the outcome? It's BS!!!

Joel, I am in control here. Eat my flesh and drink my blood. Otherwise you have no life. So what if your life is turned upside down...and things don't turn out like you feel they should? Can you accept it?

Will I accept it? Can I actually give up my iron will for a hard teaching, an unexpected plan, that I don't understand? Wow. I've been so close to turning back like those disciples. So close to fighting so hard to remain in my own plan that I know and understand. God's plan is hard to swallow. But if he's truly good...and if he's truly holy...and if true life exists only in Him.....

I must swallow the hard teaching. Eating flesh and drinking blood had such a deeper, more complex, more amazing meaning than any of those disciples could comprehend.

Why is understanding so important?

Give me your hard teaching, God. And break me of my iron will. I will never fully understand your plans. But in faith I will eat your flesh and drink your blood because you are life.

Thank you for your patience with me.

change

I don't like change. I run from it often. I try to embrace it when it's inevitable, but I still don't like it. I fear that it's a reflection of my lack of trust in God. I worry. I never thought of myself as a control freak, but I have some tendencies. I worry.

I'm not sure why I worry so much. When I look back on my life I see God's hand in just about everything. He is not only trustworthy, but He has proves Himself to be so over and over and over again. God is trustworthy. And He is good. God is good. I've sang that phrase so much over the last 25 years in church that it's easy to let it pass through my brain without meaning much. God is good. When I choose to meditate on it I am often struck by what God's goodness means. He has a plan. For me. I am His child. He wants good for me.

So why do I worry?

I've got to get to the point where I don't just see worrying as pointless, but as sin. If God is truly good and trustworthy, worrying just doesn't make any sense. So I must make the decision to stop worrying.

So I will choose to trust.

These thoughts have been sparked by recent change in our lives. I know that change will never go away, but Kari and I are still at a point in our lives where change is pretty much normal. We long to establish roots.

So we bought a house. There's some stability. I'm finally looking for a full-time, long-term job. More stability. Last week I applied for a Financial Aid Director position at a random college in Denver. The next day...The Next Day...I got a call from the seminary telling me that their Financial Aid Director position had just opened. Excuse me? A week later they hired me to keep their office afloat during the busy season. At the end of the busy season they will hire someone permanently for the position. In case you're not familiar with my backround, I was the Financial Aid Director for Emmaus Bible College for 2 years. I didn't particularly like working for the school (too much politics), but I loved the position. So not 0nly did I accept the temp gig, keeping the office afloat during the busy season, but I applied for the position. We'll see what happens, but rarely does the Lord drop something in your lap that doesn't pan out. If it doesn't pan out, that's fine. He's got something better. But I'm praying that it does.

Change is hard. Even when the Lord drops it in your lap, it's hard. But what a blessing to know that God cares about the little things.

I am His child. He cares about the little things. The little details in my life are important to Him. Oh what a difference when I stop seeing Him as a god, and start seeing Him as my intimate, loving Father.

God is good.

Pain

Everyone knows someone who has had a miscarriage. If you don't, then now you do. Statistics say that almost 20% of pregnancies end in a miscarriage. Twenty percent. Usually when an event is so common, it lessons the intensity of your own personal experience. Not so with this experience. I've known people who have had miscarriages. My reaction is to be sad for them. To try and hurt for them. But because it's so common, it's hard to understand the depth of what's really going on. Now I understand the pain.

It happened Sunday. Deep down Kari knew it was happening. She expressed her anxiety. While I listened, I doubted it. I knew it of course was a possibility, but I didn't actually think it would happen to us. Monday morning she went in for a checkup. And the little beating heart that we saw on an ultrasound last week just wasn't there.

I will remember that phone call for the rest of my life.

I was installing some doors in a house downtown. I knew she was at the doctor...just waiting for the call saying that it was just a scare...that everything is all right. It happened with Mason. We had a scare near the beginning of that pregnancy, but the doctor's visit brought good news. Not this time.

Kari's voice broke. "It's not good..........................The baby's gone" I walked across an alleyway to a park and sat down on a picnic table. Stunned. As vivid as those words are in my head, I don't remember the rest of the conversation. I was absolutely stunned. I hadn't cried in a while, but at this point there's simply nothing else to do. What do you say? So I went home and cried with my wife.

The interesting thing is the kind of loss that this is. I won't pretend to think that my experience was the same as Kari's. The attachment of a mother to her child from the moment of conception is amazing to me. The fact that she knew what was going on before a doctor could look inside is absolutely astounding. And so in a big way her loss is different from mine. I saw the beating heart, and I know that it's my flesh and blood, but my attachment is more to a dream. A hope. A concept of what that little life is going to become. The baby was only 8 weeks old. And yet there's still the pain. It's Wednesday now. I'm recovering. And yet I expect the pain of the loss of my child will linger for a long time.

But it's in this place where I feel God the most. I'm an emotional person. I get depressed at many small insignificant things. And yet I can honestly tell you that I'm not depressed right now. It's here where God is loud. It's here where it is so clearly evident that he is pouring gallons of his grace into my little teaspoon-sized soul. Pain without depression is an interesting experience. Believe it or not I would actually call it an amazing experience. Not because I like the pain, but because pain mixed with God's peace produces hope. And purpose.

I'm not familiar with the context of CS Lewis' famous quote "Pain is God's megaphone," but I can tell you that I now understand it. And it's not that I think that God gives pain in order to pierce our deafness to him. I think it's related to Joseph's amazing words in Genesis 50:20, "You meant it for evil...but God meant it for good." God uses the pain that exists in this fallen world because it allows us to experience his goodness in the midst of it. And God is good. This is a truth I've known in my head since I was a boy. It's finally starting to move to my heart. To know that God is good is fine. But to know God's goodness changes everything. Theology without experience is almost pointless. But now that my religion is becoming my reality.....I'm finally touching God's personality and not just looking at his character.

I wouldn't wish this pain on anyone. In fact, even after all I've just said I'd still like the pain to go away. But if pain really is God's megaphone, then I choose to let go of the fear of loss. For if loss causes me to know my Savior better, then the risk is worth it.

hearing God

I've been having a hard time deciding between the Counseling Licensure program (which I'm currently enrolled in) and the Counseling Ministries program. It's been somewhat a battle of my heart vs. my head. I am more drawn to the spiritual health side of counseling, but the logic says to get trained in mental health to be more marketable in case I can't find a job in a ministry.

While I was at school last Thursday I decided to take a walk along the Platte River behind the campus to do some praying about this huge decision. As I marveled at the clear blue sky and the beauty of the nature around me, a distinct thought entered my head. "God does miracles." This thought repeated itself over and over again as I reflected on my struggles. God Does Miracles. That was all there was. As simple as it sounded, I recognized how profound it also was.

As I kept walking further from campus I saw a sign in the distance. I decided to walk that far and then turn around and head back towards campus. When I got to the sign I found myself looking at it from the side, to where I was only able to see the posts holding it up. As I walked back the other way and the sign became more visible again, it struck me how much I view reality in front of me with such a limited perspective. When I keep walking, eventually the whole truth of what's in front of me becomes visible. It was at that moment that a second phrase entered my thoughts: "I have great plans for you."

As this statement repeated itself in the forefront of my mind, "God does miracles" slowly faded to the back, though still lingering. I Have Great Plans For You. They might not make sense to you right now, but your perspective is limited. And even when you think you can see more clearly, remember that I do miracles. God was definitely speaking to my heart, and he had my attention at this point.

As I neared campus there was a bicyclist heading towards me on the path I'd have to cross to get back to the school. I played a little game and decided to not slow my pace to see if he'd pass me by the time I needed to cross the path. Sure enough he passed just before I had to cross, and I never slowed down. At that moment the third statement entered my thoughts while the second phrase joined the first in the back of my mind. "My timing is perfect." As that phrase dominated my thoughts for the rest of my walk, I suddenly realized how little trust I've had in God's goodness. My Timing Is Perfect. God holds my tiny future in his enormous hands. And he takes great care of it.

God, you've brought us this far and you've not only provided the necessities but you've blessed abundantly. When will I allow the anxiety to melt? You are a good God. I will follow your lead and embrace this process of learning to depend fully on you. Please help me in my unbelief.