Morning Drive Worship

*starts engine*

It's time to drive to work. Morning time. My least favorite time of the day. I turn the worship music CD on and sing along. I've spent time in prayer and reading my Bible this morning, as I do every morning. This is just a continuation of that, 20 minutes of singing praises to God as I drive to work.

I'm singing along ... "Oh the wonderful cross, Oh the wonderful cross, Bids me come and die and find, That I may truly live ..."

The song continues, I mutter, "Man, what an a** ..." as someone does a two lane change to cut me off and slows to 10 MPH below the speed limit. "Are they turning?" I wonder out loud ... "Nope, just moved over two lanes to drive really slow in front of me."

I change lanes and continue singing ... "Here I am to worship, Here I am to bow down, Here I am to say that you're my God, You're altogether lovely, Altogether worthy, Altogether wonderful to me ..."

"What the ... sheez, what an idiot, moron." I shake my head as I avoid side swiping someone who failed to stop at a red light and pulled out directly into my path.

I arrive at work and I'm grinning to myself as I realize that I seriously doubt God intended me to worship him while calling those around me idiots.

Thank you, Lord, for your grace ... towards me and those around me.

Self Esteem and Health

Somehow, in my mind, my health and self esteem have been linked. When I don't feel well, I feel worthless. As if everything that I am and the things I do throughout the day aren't worth squat.

I even struggle, at those moments, with intense hatred. I hate, with everything that I am, the parts of me that cause me such pain. Yes, pain. Horrible inside pain. That doubles me over and makes me sob. I hate it. At those moments, if I could ask one thing of God, I wouldn't ask him for world peace. No, I'm far too selfish. I would ask him to replace the parts of me that hurt with non-hurting parts. After all, what possible purpose could this internal abdominal pain serve? What?

"I'VE HAD ENOUGH!" I scream sometimes in frustration and agony. "I'M DONE! TAKE IT AWAY ... JUST TAKE IT AWAY."

What makes it all the more frustrating is that I have days that are good. Sometimes a whole week. Then, one morning, I wake up and there it is again. Whatever plans I may have had for the day ... gone. Poof. Disappointment.

It's never easy, is it?

I watched Easter service online this year. Can you guess why? You know what, though? It was nice. My cats joined me on my bed and we watched, listened and took notes. I was reminded, again, that no matter how big my problems or frustrations or pain are to me, God's plan for my life is bigger.

That I am significant to Him. Even though in those bad, hateful times I don't feel significant or valued, I am. Just the way I am, He loves me. Where I'm at, scrunched up on the bathroom floor, He's there.

Nice, huh?

Did you hear that?

Ssshhh. Listen.

Mute your television. Turn off your music. Turn off your dishwasher or anything that is making a noise, including your thoughts. Just ... listen.

Do you hear that?

"Hear what?" I hear you ask.

"That." I reply

That which we usually do not hear because of the noises in our life.

I went away this weekend and just listened. I heard so many things that I usually don't hear. The squirrel on the roof. The tap of the tree branches as they swayed in the wind. Ahhh, the sound of the wind as it played with the branches. Even the silence of new snow falling. I heard the sound of my heart beat. The sound of my love's laughter and mine in response to his. The crackle of wood as it burned in the fireplace. The sizzle of bacon on the stove.

The joy of my heart as I focused on the simpleness of life.

Sshhh. I ask you again, did you hear that?

The Listener.

A couple months ago I was in Walmart and browsed their little book section. I made an impulse buy that day, I read the first page of a book and it grabbed me. I didn't even know the name of the book. It was out of the "inspirational section."

When I got home and unloaded my car, I couldn't find the book. I looked for it everywhere, even pulled out the empty plastic bags my other items had been in from the trash, thinking I had somehow discarded it. I came to the sad conclusion that I must have left it in the shopping cart. I prayed that whoever found it would be touched by it. I was so sad, though, because I had really wanted to read it.

A couple weeks later, I was cleaning out the recyclables from my garage. As I lifted the last bag, there was a small Walmart bag. Be still my heart, there was the lost book. I was so happy. I picked it up and put it on my "to be read" shelf.

Another couple weeks went by before I finally sat down and actually read the thing. It was a small book, only 158 pages. It took me all of an hour to finish it. When I was done, I sat there for fifteen minutes pondering the message of the book.

The premise of the book, The Listener, is based on a fellow who wakes up one morning and can hear the heart thoughts of those around him. Kind of like that scene in Bruce Almighty when all of a sudden Bruce could hear all the millions of prayers and how overwhelming they were to him. The fellow in the book I read kept thinking people were talking to him, only to realize that their lips weren't moving. Strange words, like one lady felt that gravity would let her go and no one would ever miss her. He went to a busy mall and was overwhelmed with the needs from people's hearts. Needs they weren't even aware of thinking.

He started to use this "gift" as a way to witness to people, it became his crutch to lead people to Jesus. Then, one morning two weeks later, he woke up and the gift was gone. He was so depressed, he went through his day thinking he could ever talk about Jesus again. He was supposed to speak in a class about how to witness, but he wasn't sure he could.

He was coerced up in front of the group of people at the class and felt uncomfortable. The people who were attending the class started asking him questions about how to witness. At that moment, he realized that in order to witness, the only thing he needed to do was to observe those around him, their body language and words, really listen and pay attention. Someone at the class asked him what the most common spiritual need of every person is.

He replied, "Well, they need to know they're loved, that there's healing, that someone's in control, that they're not a product of their past, that they can be forgiven, that they can be useful, that they're made in the image of God ... " He paused and racked his brain for more.

But suddenly it came to him. There really was only one answer that filled those needs he'd been naming. The same answer he'd been offering for the last two weeks.

He stood there for a moment as the thought took hold of him. "You know, really," he said, I guess the answer to all their questions, the fulfillment of all their needs is Jesus Christ."

To the question of, "If they already know Jesus, what is their need then?"

"The bottom line, basic need of every real Christian," he said, "is to bear fruit like Christ. You can count on it. Every true Christian has that need, whether they want to admit or or not. And the further they are from fulfilling it, the emptier they are."

The book made me stop and think. I'm still thinking. Because I have my "yeah, buts" all lined up. I'm not good at talking. I'm an introvert. I don't have a lot of patience. I have social anxieties. I have unstable health. I'm sensitive and my feelings get hurt easily by rejection.

How in the world am *I* supposed to be a good witness?

What is in a motive?

mo·tive (mō'tĭv): An emotion, desire, physiological need, or similar impulse that acts as an incitement to action.

goal (gōl): The purpose toward which an endeavor is directed; an objective.

in·ten·tion (ĭn-tĕn'shən): An aim that guides action; an objective.

We go through our lives making decisions. Have you ever wondered what goes into the decision making process? This is something that I have recently been pondering pretty heavily of late.

I've been working through a very painful situation over the last few weeks. You may have noticed that a lot of my writings here have touched on some varied topics? You may find it interesting to know that, while the examples I used in my writings weren't about the situation I've been working through, the occurrence of the examples were timely to help me work through the situation.

The aspects I have worked through ... learning from our past or those who have gone before us (Link), figuring out who is at the center of your relationship (Link), to know that what we have is a direct result of our hard work or life experience (Link), that sometimes your existence is a problem for someone (Link), being patient with someone when they're slow (Link), and trying to be peaceful when I'm sad (Link). Then, Michael addressed his reason for blogging and the niggling thought that had been floating around in my head solidified. I realized, I really needed to answer this question for myself.

This situation has made me confront a lot of relationship fears that I have. The fear of confrontation, the anxiety that I feel when someone I love appears to have turned against me. I am a third party to the relationship I speak of, at least I should be. Yet, fingers are pointing at me, saying it's my fault that they're having problems because I keep a blog. Not this blog, my main blog. The one that is now passworded.

Which is why I have felt the need to examine what my motives are. Not to justify myself, but to understand myself. I've asked myself what my goals are? What are my intentions? To really figure out why I blog? What do I get out of it?

I think to fully understand the question of why I blog, the story needs to start at the beginning. Most people know that I was inspired by my future in-laws, who keep blogs, to start my own. I started writing on the Internet as a way to share with my mom, who lives in Korea.

I was startled when I gained a readership, it wasn't something that I had aspired to or even knew could happen. I just never thought about it. One day in October I checked my webstats and was shocked to see that there were people reading my stuff. Gradually, people started making comments. Sharing themselves with me. I was touched. A small community of around 70 people gradually came into existence.

But, I believe I have stayed true to my original intentions.

It has always been easier for me to express myself in the written word than the verbal word. I have kept a journal of some fashion since I was 12 years old. Anytime something important has needed to be said, I have written it out.

My blog has evolved into a hobby. It's fun to tell a story so that people will relate to it, so that it might touch someone's heart or give them a chuckle. It has become a way for me to work through the depression that I have felt this past year and also a way to get to know myself, a person who I lost for a good portion of my life because of a mentally abusive relationship that I was in.

I feel blessed that my fiance chooses to read my writings, because it gives me a way to share my inner heart in a way that comes easily and naturally to me. Being able to be myself is the ultimate gift to myself. And that is why I blog.

Even if someone misinterprets my motives or puts their twist on my intentions, I can rest in the knowledge that God knows my heart. Or, another way of saying it, God will cut to the heart of the matter. God knows before I ever face a situation what my intentions will be. God won't twist things around or get pulled into a "yeah, but" discussion.

My peace comes from knowing that someday, when I stand before my Maker, it will all become clear. Clear to me and clear to the people who are intentionally choosing to misinterpret things.

God, teach me to be patient, teach me to go slow,
Teach me how to wait on You when my way I do not know.
Teach me sweet forbearance when things do not go right
So I remain unruffled when others grow uptight.
Teach me how to quiet my racing, rising heart
So I might hear the answer You are trying to impart.
Teach me to let go, dear God, and pray undisturbed until
My heart is filled with inner peace,
and I learn to know Your will.

Helen Steiner Rice