Lessons from a Former Broken Girl & The Sweetest Gift

It doesn’t end. I wish that I could tell you that one day you will be over it. Whatever it is. Abuse. Neglect. Abandonment. Death. Loss. Scars that no one else sees. The heart doesn’t forget. But, a wise woman told me not too long ago…He removes the sting. She could see the sting all over me and she was right. It doesn’t sting anymore.

When the hurt runs deep there are layers upon layers that only Christ can break through. Broken pieces that look like you, words that cut, everything placed before you and you take it because you think you have to, but you don’t. Let it shatter, your yesterday, your broken life, and watch what God does with it. One day it will be a masterpiece, I pinkie promise. God doesn’t take our pain without offering something sweeter in return.

He takes your pain for you with a love that your mind cannot fathom because He is love. He bore your sorrows in the shape of cross and bloody stripes on His back that can heal the hurt that no man sees. He carries your pain. And just in case this hasn’t been modeled out before you, our Daddy God is the perfect gentleman. Perfect, no air of superiority or fist waved above you. God is not like that. He will not pry the hurt from your hand or order you to let it go. You have to give it to Him. It’s your gift of surrender as you rip off your victim label, resigning your unofficial title of the walking wounded. Hurt can make you bitter, or it can sweeten you to love Him like none other. Can I tell you? Can I beg you to choose the latter?

This is not a holly, jolly topic but there are those who can’t sing the choir songs or deck the halls because they are hurting. They grieve and go through the motions hoping that someone will take notice with something actually worthwhile to say. They are numb and distracted standing on shaky legs because they no longer walk in strength because they walk the walk of wannabe survivor trying to keep their heads above water. Can I beg you to choose your words carefully to the fragile, or say nothing at all?

“But no man can tame the tongue. It is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless our God and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the similitude of God. Out of the same mouth proceed blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not to be so. Does a spring send forth fresh water and bitter from the same opening? Can a fig tree, my brethren, bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Thus no spring yields both salt water and fresh.” (James 3:8-12)

To the mother that just gave her baby up for adoption with ache and longing running through her bones and empty arms… you gave life and you gave a gift that the barren woman rejoices over. It’s okay to hurt and dream of a day when you are ready to mother for good. You are still a mother, you will always be. But sweet girl, you gave life and you gave a gift. So I say thank you on behalf the child that will grow up happy because you gave life.

To the mother that buried her beloved; your tears do not go unnoticed. God sees you and holds the hand of the one you lost…but don’t’ forget He’s holding your hand too. Squeeze it. Close your eyes and remember the hope of heaven because it’s real and waiting for you.

To the woman abandoned and left behind. Breathe deeply and grieve deeply, joy will come again in the morning for the Lord is near to the brokenhearted. He pours in the oil and wine, bandages your gaping wounds, and whispers the sweetest love song that sounds like this, “I am your husband. I see your worth and your beauty so find your safety in me. My soul provision will blow your mind because I am not capable of failing you.”

The sweetest gift you may give someone this Christmas is persistent, liquid prayers.
The sweetest gift you can give yourself with clinched fists is the release that comes from knowing God fights the battles for you as you let go of your “right” to be angry. Shake your fist at the enemy of your soul, not at man, for God will grant you victory. Fight the good fight.

Hurting people hurt people. If you can see through that and their lies…it hurts a little less. But, it still hurts so let God take it. Today, right now, choose salty tears over a root of bitterness that grows deep. Choose a spring of life yielded to the heart of God…not salt water that stings.

Today I choose joy. Today I choose fresh water over salty. Today I choose a heart that doesn't sting. I embrace the sweetest gift, my Savior came wrapped in flesh...and that my friends, is real reason to be jolly.

Much love to you from a Former Broken Girl,
Jennifer

The Dynamic Exchange of Letting Go & Holding On

I love to water ski; I’m extremely determined and always get up the first time out for the summer. The driver and the boat work together. I just hold on to the rope, strive for balance, and stand up at just the right time. It seems simple enough, but I’ve been skiing since I was a little girl with pretty white and pink skis with a rope that tied the two skis together so I would learn how exactly to hold my skis in the water. Aligned to perfection, the rope with the perfect amount of space between the two skis training me how it feels to stand on water. And now in my thirties, no rope needed just the invisible one in my mind.

As I glide across the water, I stay behind the wake. I like it there because it feels safe on rougher water. I hold on until I can’t anymore and then I let go. I throw my hands in the air and I sink gradually into the water with confident ease because I know exactly how to let go and when to let go. No bad fall or choking from lake water up my nose; over the years you learn how to give it your best go, hang on for the ride, and then let go.

I think about skis etched in my mind simple and lovely, I think about the rope, the wind in my wet hair and the feeling of being fearless. I couldn’t walk on water, but my tiny frame could hold its own gliding across it as I would give my signals “Slow down daddy. Go faster daddy,” or simply give a quick, goofy wave with a smile as if to say, “Hi daddy, I’m having fun.”

“Wise women know what to hold fast to and what to release, while foolish women hold on fast to what would kill them and release what would bring them life.

Knowing when to let go…and when to hold on. Wisdom is always found in this dynamic exchange.” (Lisa Bevere- Fight Like a Girl)

I feel so fortunate to have wise women of all ages around me; I learn from them and glean from their wisdom. I’ve seen the struggles a mother faces learning to let go of her only son who is know old enough to tread his own path. I see her cringe as she counts the cost for him shedding tears in the altars asking God for help to let go, and as she releases her grip she begs God to hold on to her precious love. If I let go God, will you please hold on? Often enough, this process becomes repetitious as she labors for surrender, praying without ceasing until her prayers are answered.

I’ve watched the barren women wrestling in the altars weeping while a mother nurses her little one in the nursery. I’ve watched the barren woman become a joyful mother of children trying to juggle her new life.

I’ve watched the strong woman who never thought she would be divorced cry with her daughter in the altar who just can’t understand why her Dad left. She holds herself together for her teenagers, but at night she cries herself to sleep.

I’ve watched the couple married for over fifty years that have been together for so long that they resemble one another. They fit with one another in such a way that when the other fades and makes his eternal home without her…she is left wondering what life is supposed to look like without him. I kiss her cheek and think, I miss him too and wonder how you let go of the only love you’ve ever known?

There is not an easy answer to letting go, no simple equation or formula, but I know that it begins and ends with placing our trust in a God who knows best and yet is so hard to fathom sometimes. If only it could be as simple as letting go of a rope and sinking into warm waters with flickers of sunlight illuminating the water with the smell of summertime and laughter in the air.

Even still He whispers hope in the ears of those who weep promising that He will never leave us or forsake us even when earthly fathers and mothers walk out on their children leaving question marks that last a lifetime, even when cancer strikes a child who is only eight draining his body from life and his childhood, even when your only son becomes a prodigal. A mother’s prayers still go up touching the heart of God and a widow’s tears are never unnoticed when heaven comes early for the love of their life.

This dynamic exchange of knowing when to let go and when to hold on is difficult, I can’t tell you what exactly that you need to let go of in your life, but I will tell you what you can hold onto.

You can hold on to God.

You can trust in God.


(If you would please take the time to pray for the Teis Family, Johnny is eight and was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor last May. The doctor’s have given him six months to live and our hearts are broken for this family, yet inspired by their amazing faith in God.)