Let truth be told

Sometimes we have to face up to home-truths about ourselves that make us squirm and try to wriggle away with shame and embarrassment.

I'm having one of those times.

As I've gone through Advent my deepest desire has been to connect with God at heart level, sense the pulse of His love beating through me, waken to His presence and awaken that desire in others.

The reality? A bit grim actually.

Well.. to be fair, there have been moments when He spoke clearly and insightfully, gave me poetic words to share that have been a blessing to others, and...there have also been long stretches of days without end when I trip over myself continually, hot with shame and disappointment, barely able to lift my head at all.

And as for hearing His voice, resting and listening, feeling peaceful, joyful ~ no, none of those to any great measure at all, sad to say.

Or maybe I have but I failed to see or appreciate it. Because, don't we just pull away whenever we fail our image of ourselves, never mind how we think God perceives us?

I've blushed hot and shivered cold with the way I've reacted to life recently.

Self control? Maturity? Not in this fallen woman's heart. Against all intention and desire I cannot seem to stop speaking negatively about myself most of all ~ denying the truth of His word and what it says about who I am in Christ.

I rail out at my beloved, with my perfectionist tendencies insisting on the rightness of my stance or version of events blinding me to the pain he feels at being discounted, and the hurt on his dear face.

Yes, sorry to say, blaming things (and other people) has come all too easy.

I'm hormonal. I'm in need of a break. I'm overtired/unwell/stressed/pressured etc. etc..

All these reasons (excuses) from my inner voice fall into a meaningless void whenever I've allowed God to get a word in edgeways.

Missing those times of still attentivenes before Him (due to my inner restlessness) hasn't helped much.

Now I am seeing that lies (even supposedly kind white ones), wrong attitudes and behaviour don't stand a chance in the Light of Truth ~ pure, holy, fiery, searing, soul-cleansing truth.

And as I've sought answers in the secret place, I sense words of Truth hitting home with hammer and nail finality yet with an overriding gentleness and grace.

Truth is a Person. It is Christ Himself. The One who desires truth in our inner being, the bringer and revealer of all wisdom, insight and knowledge.

He longs for us to see the truth of His life and follow after Him.

Lately, I've been too wrapped up in bad behaviour ~ swiftly followed by self-condemnation ~ to even want to speak these things out loud.

Yet here I am making a public declaration of it all and risking the ruining of whatever good reputation I may have gained in the eyes of others.

Truth hurts ~ but knowing it sets us free. We remain enslaved without it. 

Beyond anything else, I long and I need to be free. 

Captive to the manipulations and abuse from others in my childhood, slave to my own emotions, perceived as damaged goods, left with broken dreams and a broken heart ~ all these things need healing and restoring.

Without God's truth I am adrift on a sea of emotions, rudderless in every storm, powerless in the midst of problems, fearful instead of faithful, weak and weary instead of strong and capable.

For our capabilities rest in His ability alone. His keeping, holding, sustaining mercy, love and grace.

Real freedom means release from all that chains our souls to their earthly nature. It involves exchanging our self-driven lives for ones surrendered to God.

Where does this leave us?

When life throws us to our knees ~ it's the best place to look up and find Him there.

When we sin we need a Saviour ~ more than ever.

When we become discouraged and disappointed ~ we can become reappointed in Him. 

When we get tired of the everyday toil ~ we have hope for this life and life eternal.

When we want Christmas to be perfect ~ we can only find that in Christ as He is at the centre of it all.

So I turn once again to the One who brings beauty from ashes, collects my tears in a bottle, sees and understands all, who offers mercy and forgiveness rich and free ~ given at great cost and price to Him.

Because I NEED a Saviour. I need His love to wrap me round, His Light to reveal the way I should walk, His word to instruct and guide, His endless patience and kindness, His restoration and healing.

And I shrug my shoulders at the thought of doing Christmas (or anything else for that matter) perfectly ~ especially as I am so dependent on Him and on others for help.

I admit and confess my weaknesses, faults and failings, regret my bad behaviour, dry my tears, breathe deep, rest myself once more in His presence, feel His hand upon me offering Himself again, sense Holy Spirit's anointing, and ~ move on changed ~ in heart if not in actions yet.

And, dear reader, that's the honest truth.

The best gift we've ever been given is to be offered a relationship with Jesus as Lord and Saviour.

I want to appreciate it to the full and pass on to you my joy in knowing Him, the way He meets me at my point of deepest need, how He delivers and sets me free.

If you feel like you've done nothing else of worth this year, please do yourself a favour and seek The Truth Himself.

He is waiting. Christ is here. He has come.

The Truth has been told.

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Another confession:Most blog posts take a bit of time, refinement, fine-tuning and editing. But this? This one just poured out of me. And I've left it 'as is' in the hope that another soul will read and see I don't have it all together; I'm a 'work in progress' by God's grace and as messed up as the next person; and maybe, just maybe, they'll breathe a sigh of relief and feel less alone. 

That's my hope and prayer.

For we all need a Saviour. 'Aint that the truth?

Linking here with Nacole for #concretewords This week's prompt is ~ Truth. You are very welcome and warmly invited to join in.

And with Jennifer for #TellHisStory

When a cup feels too heavy to bear

Life has a deep well for us to drink from. We have cups of joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, hope and despair, health and sickness.

For more years than I care to remember (around 25 supplies my ever-helpful brain), I have drunk from the cup of sickness and found it a bitter one to swallow at times, especially as pain and infirmity are increasing.

Harder than the one of sorrow and shame? Maybe not, just different in its unrelenting nature. And human sorrows can be eclipsed by moments of joy and gladness. 

Shame often seeks to shroud and cloak me again, but I can shrug it off with greater success than before. I have a mantle of grace over me that is large enough to cover all. 

Jesus laid aside His divinity to take on the fullness of humanity in a body just like ours. He felt pain, weakness and fatigue. He thirsted, grew hungry, knew what it was to drink a cup of betrayal, rejection, pain and shame as He hung on the cross.

In the garden of Gethsemane He sought to have this cup pass by Him, aware of all it would cost to become the embodiment of sin for us.

He took the cup. He held it close and willingly drank every last drop. For you and for me. Jesus surrendered self in order to release us all from self-driven living.

I have not held a Communion cup for months. Nor drunk its contents. Nor fellowshipped with head bowed, bread crumbled, chewed and eaten, sharing life, sharing grace, sharing hope.

Being housebound has meant church is everywhere, and nowhere specific.

I fellowship by TV, by the Internet, by having only the companionship of my beloved beside me.

Joining in with TV church and missing being community with my home church.

And I feel I am needing to be reminded of that cup once more. Like one parched dry, I seek to gulp down every drop of Christian teaching I can get my hands on.

Soak in all the friendship and fellowship I crave.

But I need more. 

I need the life-blood. I need Christ poured out as drink offering brought to my conscious mind. I need to grasp with hand and heart the sweet communion of saints and all we share as His redeemed.

For Christ gave his life for me. He overcame the darkness so that I don't have to live swallowed up by it any more. I can embrace a life free from shame. Sickness and pain don't fit who I am either, but they will only be finally defeated as the kingdom comes in all its fullness when Christ returns.

We live with confusion. With mystery. With unanswered questions. 

With hope in the midst of helplessness. With light and grace to steer us through shadowlands.

For now, the cup of sorrow, shame and pain willingly swallowed by my Lord is one I want to recognise, hold to me, lift with others in unity, drink gratefully.

In the sharing of our stories, our sorrows and shame, in the voicing of our weaknesses, our frailty, our woundedness, there is a lifting up, carrying of weight, bearing of loads that lighten with many hands to hold and support. A body made stronger by each part being grace for the other for those times when a cup feels too heavy to bear.

There is joy in knowing we are not alone; we have help, we share life, we share pain.

"When you dig another out of their troubles, you will find a place to bury your own" ~ Anon

in time to come we will share the joy of all needs met in Christ.

This may have been a particularly trying phase with the M.E and allied chronic sickness that is my lot, the cup I have to endure, swallow down - yet, I would gladly go through it all again if it brings me a deeper heart awareness of my Saviour's sacrifice.

Our greatest trials have a surprising thread of joy running through them. Our needs drive us to greater dependence on God, and there is fullness of joy to be found in His presence as we rest and become refreshed once more.

I will have better days. I will write more fluently and eloquently. I will think more clearly.

"I won't give up, shut up, let up or slow up" ~ Robert Moorehead

I already have the best Companion of all to bring life to my hopes and dreams, endurance and perseverance through aches and pains, sweet communion of friendship beyond measure. For Jesus drank deep of sorrow, sin and shame so that the cup emptied became a cup of salvation, life eternal and resurrection joy for us all.

We come empty to Him for re-fuelling, dry for refreshing, hungry for the manna that feeds and satisfies, drained and weary for His life-giving energy and grace enabling us to go on for one more day.

So, battle-scarred and oh so weary as I am, I choose to hold my cup, lift it to my lips, breathe deep of His Spirit, imbibe great draughts of grace, and drink...willingly... at least for today.

"God will not look you over for medals, degrees or diplomas, but for scars" ~ Anon

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Have you had circumstances in your life that have been hard to swallow?

What enabled you to endure them?

Please feel free to share in the comments below. I love to read and reply to them.

Linking here with Joan for 'Sharing His Beauty' 

and with Jennifer for #TellHisStory

**NOTE** - I am delighted to announce that the winner of a free copy of 'The Wall Around Your Heart' by Mary de Muth is - Anne Peterson. A copy will be on its way to her as soon as possible. Thank you to everyone who took part.

The faceless ones

Sadly those who are too sick to work have to contend with issues of shame. 

In a society where we are "framed, boxed, categorised, sifted, found wanting in society's eyes" as I wrote about in the poem here, we experience deep frustration at being pigeon-holed and stigmatised.

It all impacts our lives adversely, affecting our relationships and connections with others.

For instance, on the rare occasions when I am alone downstairs in the house and have to answer the door during a late morning/afternoon/evening period in my nightclothes, wearing  bed-head hair, a dazed, sleepy expression and a veneer of embarrassment; I either say nothing (for such a state is normal to those who know me) or mumble something like, "Please excuse me, I'm unwell today" to those I don't.

Then I hasten to close the door as fast as possible to avoid curious stares from neighbours or passers-by who may wonder what they are seeing. I just want them to understand I am sick rather than lazy.

Does it always take a stick or wheelchair to convince people we are ill?......

I'd love you to come on over and read the rest at my friend Mia's blog where I am delighted to be guest posting today..She is a fellow M.E and chronic illness sufferer and a beautiful person with a heart to help others who are struggling.

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