Friendship Archives - Page 3 of 8

February 8, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

The Secret About Secrets

Secrets.

I’ve had secrets.

Have you ever had a secret?

The surest way to lose your mind is to keep a secret.

I’ve never told anyone else this…

Her eyes trembling tears.

I am so ashamed.

What I can see now… the worst thing about a secret, is not the secret itself.
The worst thing about a secret is… secrecy.

This burden of taking it on… all alone.

Now I’m not talking about sharing your every woe with every soul that passes through.
I’m not talking about divulging a confidence that is meant to relieve burden from another.
I’m not talking about airing every piece of dirty laundry to anyone close enough to get a whiff.

I am talking about the kind of secret that sneaks into the soul and boroughs itself into the dark recesses of the heart.

The kind of secret that whispers…

No one will understand.

No one else has done this.

No one will love you… if you tell.

The kind of secret that snarls…

You should be ashamed.

This secrecy is the snarling wolf that circles the unsuspecting sheep.

It circles its distracted prey… growling lies.

You have nowhere to go.

You won’t get away from this one.

You are alone.

The secret devours… and it lies.

Our enemy lies. He circles and circles, crouching low. Hissing lies.

Until we stop.

Have you ever been in this corner? Have you ever found yourself in this corner, shivering and trembling… and wondering,

How did I get here?

I’ve had these kind of secrets. The stress of them pains the stomach and numbs the heart.

We whisper to ourselves…

I can work this out.

I can put it out of my mind.

I can get past this.

And. We. Can’t.

Not alone.

Can I just tell you that you are not alone? The snarling wolf has no power over you. The secret is not as horrible as the secrecy.

There is nothing that shocks God.

There are no surprises to Divine ears.

There is nothing… nothing that can separate us from Him… unless we let it.

Tell Him your secret.

Here’s the other thing.

Tell someone else.

We are here together for a reason. We are not made to be islands. We all have secrets. We so often have the same secrets. We just don’t know it.

Until we tell.

When we tell… the secrecy vanishes. Just. Like. That.

The problems may not be gone. The pain may not be over. The journey may just be beginning.

The secret is gone. It’s not a secret anymore.

Tell someone. Take the power away from the secret. Give it back to God.

The truth will set you free.

2 Corinthians 4:2

Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to every man’s conscience in the sight of God.

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February 1, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

Just When We Think We Are Good To Go

Who knew it would hurt so much?

I mean it’s been almost a year and I feel like a thick scab has been ripped from an unsuspecting wound.

Who knew grief would haunt you when you least expect it?

I didn’t know. I thought I was good to go.

I don’t think so much about her suffering. I think more about the days before the word cancer ever entered our conversations. I think about who she was. Not this victim who needed treatments, radiation, chemotherapy, meals for her family, get well cards, and wigs. I think about her radiance before a vicious disease tried to claim her.

She gave a speech once. She knew what her prognosis was at this time. She said that she was a survivor. She was surviving the attack of the vicious enemy. She would survive the attack… even when it took her last breath.

I remember the priest at her funeral telling us that she wanted answers for the suffering.

Don’t we all want answers for the suffering?

Don’t we all want to throttle the suffering until it can no longer take one more victim?

The priest spoke words I will never forget. He told her that Jesus’ story is about the suffering. His very purpose was to come here, to claim us, through His suffering. The culmination of His earthly story, the story that rattles us and tears the human skin from our souls, is His story of suffering.

She walked this suffering, bearing her cross. She was gracious, and beautiful, and loving, and kind. Her humor split my sides. She did not understand her suffering, but she bore it.

Face to face with death, how does a soul bear it?

I thought I had made it through. The memory of birthdays, Christmas cards, texts, phone calls. It’s been almost a year. I expected the anniversary of her home-going to hit. The same day as my little one’s birthday. My plan… focus on the birth. The birth of my baby. My friend’s birth into perfection.

I didn’t think the wound would ooze tonight.

But, here it is. Bleeding. All over a screen.

Life is good. Life goes on. She would want that. Then, this shot of pain… right through the heart.

Checking old text messages. Listening to old voicemail. Just her voice… one more time.

Grace like rain. The wound torn open to wash clean again with grace. Just when I think I’m good to go. He reminds me of grace.

We are not good to go here. We are far from good. We are covered in grace. Just like rain.

She would tell me this.

It will always be ok.

All because of His grace.

This grace raining over me. Me raining all over this keyboard. His grace all over… all of it.

This reign of grace.

There will be no more suffering… no more victims… all because of grace.

Romans 5:21

so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

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January 25, 2013 by Karin 4 Comments

It’s Not My Problem… Or Is It?

It’s not my problem.

How many times have I heard that phrase or thought those words? How many times have I muttered,

It’s not my problem.

We are inundated every week… sometimes every day… with problems, problems, problems.

We face problems of our spouses, our kids, our friends, our parents, our brothers, our sisters, our neighbors, our neighbors’ brothers and sisters, our kids’ friends, our parents’ kids (oh, that’s us… yes we have our own problems, too!), our friends’ spouses and kids, and on and on and on. You get the picture. Problems are all around us, all of the time. Never mind problems facing our country, other countries… our world. It becomes very easy, and much less painful, to say…

It’s not my problem.

My oldest walks in, fuming, following an interaction with a friend. He burns with a young temper, blurred eyes, and heavy heart. He tells of the woes of another. Angry, he spouts,

It’s not my problem!

A friend on the phone. Frustrated, angry, bone weary from burdens.

It’s not my problem.

Our minds at times are drenched with woes, heartache, worries, fears… just plain pain.

It’s not my problem.

Or, is it?

When one part of a body aches, suffers, or fails ~ does the rest of the body whisper,

It’s not my problem.

When a clot forms, an artery is blocked, a vessel bursts ~ does the brain insist,

It’s not my problem.

When the left half of the heart fails, congestion of the veins in the lungs cause fluid to build ~ do the lungs scream,

It’s not my problem.

What about a member of His body? This body here on Earth walking through disaster, desperation, depression, denial, death. What do we say to the maimed and wounded parts of His body?

It’s not my problem.

Or is it?

I came across wise words…

Christians are Christ’s body, the organism through which He works. Every addition to that body enables Him to do more. If you want to help those outside you must add your own little cell to the body of Christ who alone can help them. Cutting off a man’s fingers would be an odd way of getting him to do more work.

CS Lewis

Maybe it is our problem. No maybe about it. It is our problem.

To strengthen our body… His body… we must add ourselves to it. In service. In support. In sacrifice.

A listening ear often gives the wound… and the wounded… time to heal. We bind ourselves together, sometimes even when we don’t really want to, we bind together to heal the break. Allowing Him to heal the break into a renewed strength.

My little one, eyes searching mine with worry,

Maybe we can help?

Shouldn’t we help?

We would want help.

Yes, we can. Yes, we should. Yes, we would… we would want someone to see us, hear us, help us.

We need others, even when it’s not their problem. Or is it?

Proverbs 24:10-12

If you falter in times of trouble, how small is your strength! Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering toward slaughter. If you say, “But we knew nothing about this,” does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who guards your life know it? Will he not repay each person according to what he has done?

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January 16, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

When You Don’t Like Someone

I didn’t like her when I met her.

I don’t even like to say that. It seems so, well, mean. I suppose a better word would be judgmental.

I did think she was pretty, even cool looking. Like someone I could hang out with. Not that I perceive myself that way… I just thought she appeared fairly laid back. I am fairly laid back. My dad has even joked that I am so laid back I may fall over. But… that was before the six pack. Is anyone ever relaxed again after kids enter the picture? Compared to others, we may be relaxed. Compared to our former selves, well, completely relaxed is a notion I see in the rearview. There are six little ones carrying pieces of my heart. Who can relax when a heart is spread wide and worn on the sleeve?

Comparison. It can inflate the ego… falsely. It can deflate a soul… foolishly.

Then, she told me about herself.

And she told me about herself.

And I learned just a bit more about herself… herself… herself.

Got it. She’s great. She knows it. I am definitely not cool enough to hang out with her.

So, I decided. I didn’t like her.

I tried for just a little while longer to like her. Honestly, I barely tried, and not for very long.

After all, if she liked herself so much, she probably didn’t need me to like her, too.

So, that was it. I decided that she was not for me. I really did not know her, but I am a good judge of character, and I knew she was a little too full of herself. Not for me.

Compared. Judged. Stamped with a big, fat

No.

Little did I know.

Here I was teaching my own young ones

accept, don’t judge, don’t compare

you just don’t know the whole story

Did I practice what I preached?

Not this time.

And, then, God.

He always shows up to show me where I am wrong, wrong, wrong.

And I am… grateful.

He, and she, caught me off guard one day. One day, she showed up, just to help, just to serve. She wanted nothing in return.

Oh.

The chilled corner of this heart chipped… and began to melt.

Could I be wrong?

Could it really be that there was something about her… that threatened me?

Made me feel… not quite good enough?

Did I compare myself… to her?

Did I fall short… in my own eyes.

That human response we want to outgrow when we outgrow our training bras… there it was.

Jealousy.

She drove away; I hung my head in shame.

I’m sorry, God.

I’d like to dress it up and eloquently name the feeling, but I just felt like a… jerk.

I’m not a fan of the moments that He points out the worst in me. That whole discipline thing.

Here it is. That chipped and chilled corner of this heart… warmed.

I actually liked her. In fact, I appreciated her. Even more, I saw this woman with her own insecurities. She carried an imaginary, giant cut-out of her “perfect” self to hide behind… to hide her own feelings. The I’m-not-good-enough-so-I’m-gonna-talk-myself-up method.

Just one of many methods we use to defend, to measure up, to fit in.

We compare ourselves, and we miss the opportunity.

We miss the chance to see each other, and ourselves, as we are.

He has perfectly equipped me to be me; He has perfectly equipped you to be you.

He is perfectly able to (painfully) press out our imperfections (plenty of those here).

I wonder, when I fall short, if maybe it’s because I’m trying to be like someone else?

Trying to be like someone else, and missing the chance to be a better… me.

Lesson learned… again.

Romans 14:13

Therefore let us stop passing judgement on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in your brother’s way.

January 3, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

When you wonder what humility sounds like

What do you sound like?

I’ve been thinking about humility. We have all heard that it is good to be humble. What does humble sound like?

When someone compliments a talent… a character trait… what is the humble response?

Have you ever complimented someone, only to follow it up with convincing?

No, really, I mean it…

Yes, you are…

Yes, you do…

Suddenly the compliment has become something you have to ram down a resistant throat.

Irritating.

After a while, it makes you wish you had never said anything at all.

Take the compliment. Just say thanks.

When I receive a compliment, what do I say?

There is a sort of twisted pride in this denying of compliments ~ true, valid compliments. This strange habit of adamantly denying something that faintly rings with truth. A sort of self-focus that longs to highlight a negative… shunning the positive at every turn. I wonder if we spend more energy on ourselves in false self-defeat, than we do in acknowledging a good thing… a good thing we know to be true?

The truth is, we are usually aware of our strengths. We are most certainly aware of our short-comings… whether we admit them or not. Yes, there are the few among us who don’t require much complimenting ~ they do just fine on their own.

So, when we have these strengths, what do we do with them? How do we acknowledge them? How do we acknowledge our strengths without sounding arrogant… or worse yet, self-effacing.

Own them.

A few days ago, a talented pro athlete gave an interview. What impressed me the most in the interview was his humility. His humility in knowing that he is good. Even great… at what he does. He knows it. He admits it. He does not take credit for it.

There was my answer.

Own the gift. Credit the Giver.

There is nothing wrong with knowing you are good, even great at something. There is nothing wrong with knowing you have a wonderful character trait. There is nothing wrong with admitting it. There is everything right about accepting the gift… and giving thanks to the One who gave it.

Graciously acknowledging the truth ~ deflecting the credit to the One who gave you the gift… this is beautiful humility at its finest.

I had an assignment a few days ago. My assignment was to ask a few friends, you know ~ the truthful ones, what my voice sounds like. (Not my singing voice – thankfully). My friends, loving and kind, replied.

It was an awkward thing for me to ask… the ultimate in compliment-fishing. I cringed at the thought of it. But, I did it. I asked.

In person, the responses would have made me drop my eyes and shake my head. Over email, I read them, re-read them… absorbed them. I let them sink in and settle. I took these words from my friends… and owned them.

The reply from one of my friends surprised me. Made me smile.

bold with grace.

In all my self-doubting, all the times I have thought

why did I say that?

why did I write that?

what was I thinking?

I missed the gift. I replaced it with some kind of upside down attempt at humility.

Humility is not denying all that is good about ourselves.

Humility is not stiff-arming a heartfelt compliment.

Humility is not time spent self deprecating.

Humility is ownership of the truth. Ownership of the talent. Ownership of the quality. The good God gift specifically given… to me… to you.

Humility is owning the gift, and giving credit to the Giver. Humility is using the gift to show how awesome God is.

So, what does my “bold with grace” voice resonate today?

Own your gifts. Credit our Giver.

He makes no mistakes.

Happy New Year.

2 Corinthians 10:13, 17-18

We, however, will not boast beyond proper limits, but will confine our boasting to the field God has assigned to us, a field that reaches even you… But, “Let him who boasts boast in the Lord.” For it is not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one whom the Lord commends.

The Secret About Secrets

Just When We Think We Are Good To Go

It’s Not My Problem… Or Is It?

When You Don’t Like Someone

When you wonder what humility sounds like

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