Being Too Bold To Ask?

            This week, I called my mom for the first time after returning home from visiting Flathead Lake.  While updating her on how the past week had been, she had news for me.  “I have to have surgery.”  She reminded me of the allergies and asthma she dealt with over the course of the summer, and in the process had a CT scan for her enlarged heart.  Something was noticed by her kidneys.  I remember my dad telling me about it when I visited, but assured me that it was most likely a skin tag (adjacent to a mole), and nothing to worry about.  So, I didn’t worry. 

            “The doctors found cysts on my kidneys.”

            The cysts were by both my mom’s kidneys, but the left one of more concern.  It is 18 cm around, which is, relatively, the same circumference that of a softball. A kidney is the size of an adult fist. The surgery not only requires removal of the large cyst, but her left kidney as well.  I guess I should be thankful.  It was caught early, and at least it isn’t a tumor (which was my fear when my mom was leading up after breaking the news of needed surgery).  Surgery has been scheduled, and from what I hear, it is a simple procedure, and my mother will be fine.

            But, it’s still a hard blow. 

            I know that God is good, and that He is bigger than anything, but it still hurt. To be completely honest, I wasn’t (and still am not) okay with the news. But again, God is sovereign.  So, I looked to find things to help sustain my faith in Him while hearing the news.  I had a little time on my hands after getting off the phone with my mother that night, and I found this verse: “Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful and worship acceptably and with reference and awe.” (Hebrews 10:28, NIV).  The following morning, I found a video of Yolanda Adams singing “Victory” on the Late Night Show (God bless Jimmy Fallon -   http://www.nbc.com/the-tonight-show/video/yolanda-adams-victory/2890422 ). Both of these reminded me that God’s truth doesn’t fail, and in the end Jesus conquered the devil, in all of his schemes.  We will see the fulfillment of that one day.

            However…do I dare ask?  Do I dare ask that God miraculously heal my mother?  The surgery is set; nothing to worry about.  But is it too pretentious to ask for God to remove the cysts Himself?  Am I standing over the boundaries of His sovereignty and breaking the understanding of trust in His control, by asking such a bold question?  The last couple of days I have struggled with this question.    I want to dare to ask.  But, I have known friends who have died of cancer; others still believing for healing in their bodies.  I have been waiting on healing personally for 25 years, and aside from a leg growing, not much.  His ways are not our ways; His thoughts not our thoughts (Isaiah 55:8).  Should I just be content knowing that God is good, and that no matter what, He’ll work all things to His glory (Romans 8:28)?  I know I should.  

            Then why the heck did Jesus command us to lay hands on the sick (Matthew 10:8; John 14:12-14))?  What purpose would that statement be, if the promise of healing was not ever meant to be fulfilled on earth?    Forgive me of my frankness and my frustration.  If it’s a sin, I repent.  But as much as I have a list of individuals who have waited for healing, I know other people, and I have heard testimonies of such miracles occurring!  I do not mean to usurp God’s authority or sovereignty on the issue of my mother (or other situations I will witness throughout my life).  I know sometimes people believe for His promises, only to find the time of their fulfillment was in Heaven (Hebrews 11: 39). 

However, it’s easier to mention that there is something wrong, and head it off to God with a, “Well, please figure this out,” with not much expectation.  Easier to not be let down on the basis of God’s promises and the issue of time.  But by not asking…am I really believing?  (This healing topic is a deeper issue than what one blog-post can dive into, but with this week about the news of my mother, I knew I had to get my thoughts on paper.)  And if I am not believing, what is the reason?  I emailed my friends about my mom, but I didn’t point out what exactly was on my heart.  I didn’t mention that I desire for a full healing without surgery.  Part of me wondered about the sovereignty question; a part of me wondered if God would do a miraculous healing for someone in my own life.  I know how easy it is to become comfortable to just ‘wait on God’s promises’, rather than ask for them, because the pain of a “No” is too great.  It hurts to see (in our view) God’s goodness withheld from us (even if we know it to be momentarily in the perspective of eternity).  It's hard, sometimes. 

            In Matthew, Jesus pointed out how it’s important to trust and ask God the things on our hearts (Matthew 7:7-11).  I want to dare to ask.  I want to be bold and ask.  Last night, I thought about my mom (which I have been doing lately), and considered the “worst-case scenarios” that might occur.  Such as... she’ll need both kidneys taken out, because the cyst on her right kidney grew (and then, she would need a transplant).  Or her cyst could burst, and then it becomes a life-threatening issue.  (Oh glory.  What my mind likes to do when it hears bad news…)While pondering on the depressing portion of my thoughts, a proverb popped in my head, “The name of the Lord is a strong tower; the righteous run to it and are saved (Proverbs 18:10).” 

            This morning, I am reminded that God is in control, and He is my salvation.  God is not a super-genie where He does everything we ask just because we ask, but I doubt that He gets offended when we pray boldly for His hand to move (in situations great or small, determined by our accounts).  I think in praying these prayers, we show our complete dependence on God.  Surely, God already knows how this will work out.  Perhaps my mom will have cysts miraculously removed (yay!!!), but maybe God will use surgery to remove them (yay!!!  I know that God will provide the money to help my folks pay for it.).  About the “worst-case scenarios”, they aren’t on my mind anymore.  By this morning, I have no fear concerning my mom.  The thing is He knew what was going to happen, and we are along for the run while the tapestry is being sewn.  And looking back, God’s glory will be revealed.  I know that God is good, and whatever happens, it will end up being good.  That being said, I still don’t want to hesitate to ask for His hand to move in my mom’s circumstance (“The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.” –James 4:16b, KJV).  I want to boldly believe. 

Beckon My Heart

(John 3:33, 35, 37)

I could read every one of your letters

And yet I wouldn’t know You.

I could utter Your name…

I used to…hunger and thirst

At Your feet; my heart would beat

With each longing for Your presence.

What happened to this fiery love,

So ravished by the desire You have for me?

But having forgotten Grace,

I have failed to seek Your face.

Remind me, Father, how You loved me,

How You called me, and never fail

To chase after, even when I have fallen

Far into the depths of doubt and hopelessness.

Be the joy that excites my soul,

Ignites a passion for the One who sought me first.

If there be any idols, crush them to dust

Like the golden calves of old. 

I am, because He Is.  Nothing else can satisfy.

Sovereign Lord, I worship You.

Beckon my heart,

Beckon my heart, God.

Beckon my heart,

Beckon my heart back to You. 

Fairest One of All

“Mirror, mirror on the wall: who is the fairest one of them all?”

            I have seen the Disney Snow White, and I also remember the lesson of how the queen was this evil woman plaguing the poor princess over her beauty.  Girls have grown up desiring to be adored as such princesses.  However, can I be completely honest?  I wonder how often we actually feel like the queen from the story, begging our reflection affirmation to our questions of worth.  I know that I have stared into the mirror, looked at different components of my face and body…and for the moment, I am satisfied.  I am content with what I see, and no barring thoughts from the outside hinder the joy.  That is…until I think about the differences between me and a friend, and thoughts of how much more she is – how much more wonderful and beautiful she is than me.

            It’s a disheartening cycle.  I have looked at myself and loved myself, and then hate certain features of my physical being.  And the summation I get from the total picture: because a part of me doesn’t fit the ideal perfection of a woman, my complete self is not worth loving.  It continues as I not only criticize my outward beauty, but the things inside of me, as well.  I have compared my interests with that of other ladies, and thought, “I am not woman enough. My talents aren’t enough- why should I try to use them?  Shouldn’t I dress up more often? I play too much with the boys; they would never find me attractive.” 

For those reading this, maybe this is such a staunch different tale you would expect to hear.  Especially from a Christian.  Girls are beautiful no matter what form.  Don’t I know that God has made me fearfully and wonderfully; that I am pleasant and a delight (Psalm 139: 14; Song of Solomon 7:6)?  Yes.  I know it.  At least in my head.  And there are times I know it in my heart as well.  There have been times that I was truly confident in the woman that God created me to be, as me.  There was a time I didn’t care what people thought about certain hobbies I had.  I knew that it was me, and I went out, fully alive.  So, what happened?  What happened to the little girl that was so confident in who God fashioned her to be, that she so often now struggles to see the beauty inside of her even for a little bit? 

It’s a daily thing where I have to combat the idea that I am not beautiful or worthy enough; I have to rebuke the thought that my gifts cannot benefit my community.   I wish I could remember that I have been etched from edge to edge.  How I have been wonderfully molded and crafted, and stitched with divine threads.  The alternative is so much worse.  Beating myself down emotionally, as well as physically at times (I dealt with some self-harm, because I had believed I was worthless.  I also remember not wanting to eat cheese and refused to drink more than half a glass of milk during high school and college, because I feared that I would gain weight, and lose any bit of beauty I hoped to have). 

Perhaps I am writing this post out of some form of therapeutic process.  Almost a quarter of a century, and there are still moments I look at my reflection in the mirror, and I am reminded of certain things that people have said to me. (I am also reminded of the lack of things said that were needed.) Whether or not they realized it, these words had a grave impact on how I see myself wholly as an individual and as a woman.  I am not trying to rehash the past and wallow in the subjugated hatred I have had for myself.  Rather, I am trying to figure out where I suddenly believed that I was less than who I am, and where can I start again seeing myself as my Father truly sees me.  Perhaps it’s just therapy, but I also know that I am not the only one who is prone to strain in front of the glass every morning.

  This idea of lacking in beauty is rooted in fear.  Fear that somehow we, as ladies, are not enough (or too much) to be a gift to the people around us. And in that belief, we curse ourselves.  We abuse (yes, abuse; the definition of abuse is to mishandle or mistreat) ourselves with disgusting, cursing, remarks.  Furthermore, we evidently share the message, discouraging other women in their beauty.  This seems to be less believable.  Women are so easily able to encourage the beauty in others while they simultaneously fail to see it in themselves. However, we can be the worst when it comes to comparisons.  And comparing we do…A LOT.  We size ourselves up- our physical features, our hobbies, talents, lives – to other women, and believe that she has it more together than we do. 

The truth is…she probably thinks the same thing about herself when she looks at you. And the sad part?  Writing that instinctively makes me feel better.  Because somehow, knowing that someone else is just as flawed as me means that I am ‘not that bad’. 

Dagnabit!  When are we going to rid ourselves of all this bull-crap?!  Seriously?  I am tired of focusing on the things (or the idea of it) that paint us as these flawed creatures.  As if God had screwed up while He was forming us.  I want to remember.  I want to remember the things God had put in me are good.  That the certain interests I have are not flaws, but wonderful aspects that beautify my life. Not that I am better than any other woman; but just different. How He formed my physical being – face, hair, shoulders, stomach, waist, hips, legs, and whatever else to fit in the list – no matter how they may change through the years – was also made perfectly. 

Recently, I was at a slumber party, and a couple of the girls did the others’ make-up and hair.  It was a lot of fun.  And it was hilarious to see my friends’ reaction as foundation, blush, something that contours my cheekbones and eyes was put on my skin.  I didn’t know what I would expect when I finally was able to look in the mirror after my ‘make-over.’  The girls did good.  In fact, I looked FI-INE.

But something interesting also happened.  As much as I liked what I saw in the mirror, I missed what I looked like without it.  I think what did it was my freckles.  They were pretty covered up – and I LOVE my freckles.  As I took off the make-up before bed, I realized that I preferred myself as I am.  That indeed I was created beautifully with the features God already designed me with.  (Disclaimer:  This story is not to tell girls to not wear make-up.  This is just to relate how God gave me confidence in who I am.  If you love to wear make-up to feel beautiful, then do so.  And thank you ladies for the fun that night.)

Do you have a story like this?  I hope you do, and if not, that you are able to find one soon.  Remembering our beauty takes an active effort.  I usually have to write certain things down, and stories like these are worth noting.  What are the beautiful aspects of your life?  What is the wonderful hobbies and talents you have?  Use them!  Does a painter paint the same piece of work?  Not at all.  Each time he does, he develops a new vision to transform his canvas. We each have been made differently, but that does not determine a measure of beauty lesser or greater than the next.  Just different.. You truly have been wonderfully made, and you have been specifically designed in such a way that no other person can fill what you can do.  You are a beautiful, beyond all comparison and measure.  Priceless. 

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the fairest one of all?”

Each and every one of us.