Category Archives: Getting Honest

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02/08/2013

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Getting Honest

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Bleeding Hearts and Useless Words

There’s a word that keeps resurfacing in my prayer journal—an adjective I keep using to describe my heart.

Bleeding.

My heart is bleeding. Cracked. Broken. Rubbed raw and aching with the harsh realities of life.

Some of it is my fault—decisions I have made, bitterness I have harbored. But some of it… Some of it is completely out of my control. The only contribution I made to that pain was deciding to love too deeply, but I promised myself long ago that I’d never apologize for that.

So here I stand.

Bleeding.

Which is why I’ve been silent here of late. The words have slipped right through the cracks in my spirit. And I’m laughing to think that I had all the answers right up until it came time to use them, which makes me wonder if perhaps they weren’t the right answers after all.

Because when your heart rumbles and shudders with the force of an earthquake and your soul rips apart at the seams, you find that answers aren’t a strong enough foundation for the process of rebuilding your life.

So what is? What remains when everything else lies in ruins?

It’s simple, really. Simple and short and perhaps a bit cliche:

When answers fail—when words are rendered worthless—love remains.

…Which is a difficult concept for a writer to wrap her mind around. You see, words are pretty much my life. I live off them and in them and for them. I’ve read as many as fourteen novels in a single month and still didn’t get my fill of them. Words. Piles and piles of words.

I’ve never believed in letters that don’t wrap around from front to back. I’ve never learned to stay within the margins of my pages. And when I’m broken, I resort to poetry and prose.

But I realized just the other day that I often fill the silences with fluff as if I’m afraid of fresh, white pages. I realized just now that I craft entire paragraphs when only one sentence is needed. And maybe the message I’m trying to get across is found somewhere in that 500-word-essay, but there’s a chance it got lost amidst all the scribbles in the margins. And after all my assurances, condolences, and cliches, you still stand there. Bleeding.

Because I gave you pages of poetry when all you needed was a simple confession.

“I know that you’re broken. I’m broken, too. But I’m okay to be broken for you.”

Maybe all I needed to say was, “I love you.”
As cliche as that sounds, I love you.
Forever.
For always.
Yes, even in this.

Or maybe I don’t need to say anything at all.

Yes, I think for now I’ll just remain silent and bleed right along with you.

ruins-001

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01/28/2013

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Needing to be Found

“I want to believe the stories, that there really is someone who would search the whole mountainside just to find that one lost thing that he loves, and bring it home.”

These words, penned by Sara Zarr, have stirred in my heart for the past week. Because I just read a novel about a girl who lost her faith only to find it again. Only to let herself be found. And while I’ve never really doubted the fact that there is Someone out there who would search the whole mountainside, I’ve definitely been in the place of needing to be found.

To be perfectly honest, I find (pun intended) myself in that place more often than I’d like. Curled up on the side of a mountain, waiting for rescue because I can’t remember my way home from here. So here’s my confession:

Sometimes I say I’m okay when really I’m not.
Sometimes I pretend to have everything under control when, in reality, I’m in control of nothing.
Sometimes I smile like nothing in the world is the matter when on the inside I’m falling apart.
Sometimes I force myself to find words when the words are slow in coming.
Sometimes I just need to be found.
Sometimes we all just need to be found.

And maybe… Maybe you’re in the place where you really want to believe the stories. That there really is someone who would search the whole mountainside just to find that one lost thing that he loves, and bring it home.

The stories are true. They are more than true. So hold on, dear child, hold on. Though the storms of life are raging outside the little crevice you’ve tucked yourself into, the Shepherd is on His way. He’s searching the mountainside and it won’t be long until He finds you—that one lost thing that He loves—and brings you home.

One Lost Thing

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01/14/2013

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Living For You

Sometimes I find some really cool quotes on the internet, and sometimes I find not-so-cool quotes on the internet. Like, I was on pinterest the other day (that’s how all great stories start nowadays) and I found this quote that says, “You can’t live your life for other people. You’ve got to do what’s right for you, even if it hurts some people you love.”

Of course the person that pinned it thought this was the best advice ever, but I was like, “No. No, no, no.” Because that’s some of the most selfish and horrible advice I’ve ever heard. In fact, I don’t think it would be an exaggeration to say that basically all of the atrocious sins that are committed in this world are committed by people who live as if that statement were true.

And, yes, sometimes you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. You’ll have to tell people “no” and chase a dream that they never believed in. But that doesn’t mean you can stop living life for other people. That doesn’t give you the right to hurt someone you love.

When Jesus came to earth, He didn’t do what was right for Him. He lived His life for other people. He gave  His life for other people. And if Jesus is the ultimate example of how we should live… Well, I think it’s safe to say we should turn this quote into ashes.

Life isn’t worth living if I’m only living for me. And though I’m selfish by nature and sometimes horribly fail at living for others, I at least want to be able to say that I tried. Because the worst thing I could possibly do is hurt someone that I love.

And once upon a time I started writing for me, but I like to think that the reason this blog has lived for so long—the reason I keep coming back two times a week to share words I didn’t know I had until they started flowing from my fingertips—is because there was a shift in my perspective. Somewhere along this two and a half year blogging journey, I started writing for you. I started realizing that my words carried enough weight in your lives that you kept coming back for more. That’s why I write here even though there are a hundred other things I could be doing. Even though all I ever wanted to do was write fiction.

I have a responsibility to you. This part of my life was meant to be lived for you. And even when I feel like I’d rather be submerged in a fantastical land with wars and prophecies and a curse that is about to be broken, I keep coming back for you. Because you’re worth it.

So in case you were wondering, I’m done living for me. I’m living for God. I’m living for you. And I’m living the moments as they come. And in fully surrendering me, I’m living free.

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10/26/2012

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Whatever Happened to World Peace?


Blame it on the fact that I have close ties with a missions organization that keeps me updated on what is happening all around the world, but I’ve been thinking about the elusive subject of world peace. I know, I sound like I belong in a beauty pageant, but before you start congratulating me on my ambitions to bring harmony to the universe, let me just say that I don’t think it’s possible.

I’m not trying to get all political, but when I hear people talk about the upcoming election as if it will make or break America, I just have to shake my head. Because in my opinion, America is already broken—yet another piece of a fallen world. And when I take a Biblical look at what has to happen before Jesus returns, I don’t see things getting any better. I just don’t. But the real reason I don’t believe we will ever achieve world peace is verses like Luke 12:52:

“Do you think I came to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but division.”

The simple fact of the matter is that when Jesus came to earth, the people of Israel were expecting a Messiah who would liberate them from Rome. But did Jesus ever involve Himself in earthly politics? Well, aside from the time He instructed someone to “give to Caesar what is Caesar’s” (Matt. 22:21), He didn’t really talk much about the nation that ruled over Israel.

He did make it abundantly clear, however, that His Kingdom is not of this world. Therefore, the peace He offers is not for our world, but for our hearts.

So many people will tell you that God wants peace and prosperity for His people as if that means we will live a life of ease. Tell that to the believers who are in prison. Tell that to the Christians in Egypt who are being forced out of their homes for bearing God’s name. Tell that to Jesus as He suffered and died on a cross for sins that were not His own.

God does want us to be prosperous, but maybe His idea of prosperity is a little different from ours. My family has never had much by the world’s standards, but we have harmony in our home. I’ll take that kind of prosperity over wealth and discord any day.

We live in a fallen world that will always have division. There will be hatred and war and persecution until the day Jesus comes back to set everything right for good. But no matter what takes place on the surface of our world, the peace of God is transforming lives throughout the nations.

Last weekend, I was at a conference where two men who are very dear to my heart were called up on stage. The speaker then explained that one man had come from a long line of Arabs while the other had come from a long line of Jews. “Tell them how much you love the Lord and each other,” he instructed.

Then I witnessed the only hug I’ve ever seen receive a standing ovation.

Because while Muslims and Jews will be at odds until the end of the world, God took these two enemies and made them brothers. He vanquished a hatred that was centuries old and replaced it with a love that knows no bounds. And that’s why I believe that the peace Jesus offers is more than skin deep; it sinks into the deepest part of our souls and heals our most broken pieces so that we can be at peace even as the world is crumbling around us.

And that, I believe, is so much better than the temporary fix we’ve been waiting for all our lives.

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09/24/2012

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You Have My Permission

It was the day I failed her. The day I ran out of words and didn’t know what to do. The day she reached out to me, and I brushed her off because I felt incapable of helping her. That was the day I left my tears on my steering wheel and walked into Bible study with my head held high. And wouldn’t you know that would also be the day our small group leader would single me out. The day he would remind my friends, “Rebekah’s not perfect. Rebekah has tears.”

I hated those tears and how they flowed in that moment. Hated that he had chosen this night to point out my weaknesses, as if he knew how badly I had wronged her.

That was the night we all became real. The night we apologized for not seeing when another was hurting because we were all too self-absorbed to notice that needs existed outside of our own. That’s the night my friend said to me what I should have said to my friend whom I had failed a mere hour before.

“I’m sorry,” he confessed. “I’m sorry.”

Then he told me why. Explained how I had always seemed so above him because he had a past I could never possibly understand. “And that’s ridiculous,” he said. “I should have known…”

And that was my permission… To be free. To be vulnerable. To show that I have weaknesses and prove that I have scars. To not be the strong one for once in my life.

There I sat among a group of my peers who were seeking the Lord together. Some of us had walked with God all our lives. Some of us had only recently found Him. Some of us were by all appearances “perfect,” while others had a past that would make you cringe. But not one of us was better than another. Not one of us had reason to be either proud or ashamed. Because not one of us was free of struggles, temptation, or trials.

We’ve all failed at one point or another. We’ve all found ourselves on our knees, begging for forgiveness.

So how is it that we forget that even our saints are struggling? How is it that we neglect to reach out to those among us who are hurting? And why is it that we hide the depths of our pain behind a thin veneer of perfection?

This is me apologizing for all the times you’ve been overlooked. All the times someone has seen you without ever stopping to imagine what heartache you may be experiencing.

And this is me giving you permission to be honest and vulnerable and free. Because I know what it is to fail, and I know what it is to fear that failure. But mostly, I know what it is to carry things alone.

You are surrounded by a community of believers who are waiting for permission to speak freely.

Give it to them.

Give it to yourself.

You have my permission.

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09/07/2012

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The Day I Decided She Was Worth It

I’ve been sort of jaded by relationships—the ones that don’t stand the test of time. The ones that clutter the path of my life, leaving glaring evidence that they didn’t end well. For years I’ve tried to blame the other person—the one that did the walking away. I’ve only just begun to realize that I’m just as much at fault for standing back and just watching them leave.

I’ve been thinking about my best friend recently. You know, that shy little girl I met in fourth grade who didn’t turn out to be as shy as she first appeared. At. All. I started thinking about all the not-so-pretty seasons of our friendship (and trust me, there have been a few). And I started wondering how we—being the two opposites that we are—actually overcame all of our struggles and made it this far. How did we survive the tests of time and trial and love and sacrifice and swallowing my pride to say that I—yes, I—am sorry even when I’m still convinced that she’s the one in the wrong?

How is it that my greatest and dearest friendship is the one that has been the hardest for me to keep?

Then I realized that what was really hard about our relationship wasn’t so much what we experienced, but what we survived. Because I faced a lot of junk in my other relationships, too. But the thing that made those different from my relationship with Emily is that, with the others, I simply walked away and left the mess behind. Emily and I couldn’t do that, no matter how badly we sometimes wanted to. No, we had to stay and clean the mess. Take out the trash. Make it so there was room to breathe once more.

And I’m realizing that the key to thriving friendships is not in what you face, but in who you deem worth it. Worth the hardship. Worth the struggle. Worth saving no matter the cost.

Somewhere along the lines of our friendship, I decided Emily was worth it. Because I tried to walk away from her before. When the going got tough, I pulled away—just as I had with every other relationship in my life. But walking away from Emily was like walking away from myself. I needed her too badly—even when I tried to convince myself it was she who needed me.

The thing about relationships is that they are fragile. You’re going to hurt and be hurt. You’re going to fail and be failed. There’s no getting around that—it’s what humans do. And sometimes it’s okay to walk away from those train wreck relationships. But there are a few—precious few—that you must fight for. That you must be willing to lay your pride down to save.

And if you’re looking for the kind of friend who will be there for the rest of your life, here’s my oh so simple, yet impossibly difficult advice: You must decide that she is worth it—so absolutely worth it—because loving her isn’t always going to be easy. But then, the best relationships never are…

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09/29/2011

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The Moment of Surrender

Sometimes I have a one-track mind. Lately, that mind has been set on writing. With my manuscript for Beyond Waiting nearly finished (I can see a light at the end of the tunnel!), I’ve been trying to figure out where I’m supposed to set my efforts next. But it seems like every time I pick up a pen or pose my fingers over a keyboard, the words are stuck and my mind is as blank as the page before me. Yesterday, God reminded me to focus on the more important thing.

The book I’ve been reading with my morning devotionals talked of how goals can become gods. In a little “aha” moment, I realized that my writing was becoming exactly that. So I released my pent-up breath and whispered a prayer, apologizing for getting my priorities all out of whack. I promised not to pick up a pen until I heard God’s explicit instructions.

I think that God often waits for nothing more than the moment of surrender. When I arrived home from work last night, my mind was churning. After weeks of staring into space, my heart came out in a sixty chapter outline of what will hopefully be my first completed novel.

But even though this dream is playing out so clearly before my eyes, I’m determined not to lose sight of the most important thing. This time, I’ll let God be God, and my goals be goals. This time, I’ll let Him be the One to guide my hands.

I pray that you, too, will return to the moment of surrender when all else seems out of place.

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03/10/2011

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Yet I will rejoice

“I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now there’s gum in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped on the skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.”

So begins the popular children’s book, Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. When I read that book, I’m inclined to laugh at the “tragic” events that occur throughout Alexander’s day, but I find it more difficult to smile when I’m having one of those days myself. The past couple days have been so crazy that I feel like I could write a book entitled Rebekah and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week.

And, as He often does on days like these, God turned my mind to Habakkuk 3:17-18. “Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines, though the olive crop fails and the fields produce no food, though there are no sheep in the pen and no cattle in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.”

Yet I will rejoice in the Lord. Yet, as in, even though nothing is going my way, even though all I want to do is scream, even though I don’t feel an ounce of joy in this heart of mine, even though I simply want to move to Australia. Yet I will rejoice in the Lord. Even when I’m having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day (which is certainly what the Israelites were having when God delivered this word to them).

I know this isn’t something I can accomplish on my own. So I’ll take a deep breath and ask God to please put some joy back into my heart. Now I’ve nothing to do but prayerfully wait for his peace to saturate my being. In the meantime…

Okay, so maybe I’ll forget that last bit and listen to some worship music instead.