Strip Club

I’m going to explore the interesting concept of loving everyone.  Many times in the Scripture it was said that you are to love and not hate.  I get that part, I really do because hating someone just brings judgment upon yourself in the form of illness, bitterness, etc.  This is a paraphrase of Scripture but it goes, “You’re kidding yourself if you say you love God but hate your brother.” One definition of hate is, “intense or passionate dislike” or “intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger, or sense of injury.”  So maybe I love more than I thought I did.  I guess I was thinking I had to feel good about everyone, because quite frankly I don’t.  I don’t like everyone I meet.  I’m usually kind and polite but I was thinking I was some kind of phony when I did not want to spend a lot of time with them.

I met an exotic dancer once while a group of us were at her club telling the ladies about Jesus. We would go to the clubs in a group of three for safety purposes and so as not to appear there for any alternative reason. The girls would come over and talk to us and we would often bring them small gifts, for example:  make-up, candy or some other small token to tell them we cared about them.  It was sweet and we were welcomed even by the owners, as we bought a drink or two and didn’t draw any attention to ourselves. As much as three church ladies in a strip club can blend in, that is.  When we would first arrive, our long skirts and our “Little House on the Prairie” bonnets would give us away and we would turn some heads. (Just kidding, we dressed normally.) We walked in casually and just made ourselves at home, no one seemed to mind that we were there.  

One night one of the dancers came over to talk to us, and for lack of a better way to put it, she would not shut up.  Talking about anything and everything and contradicting her stories and I couldn’t help but think, “What a waste of time this is!”  I didn’t find her to be truthful or sincere; she just wanted to hear herself talk.  She left for a minute to “purchase condoms” and the other two ladies and I left before she had the chance to return.  I thought to myself that was a pretty rude way of exiting but I was grateful to be away from her as this nonstop chatter had already gone on for more than an hour. It was idle conversation with no substance whatsoever, just rambling about nothing. So, when we got in the car, there was no mention about what just took place.  For lack of a more polite way to put it, I said, “What a waste of time that was.  I couldn’t stand listening to her.”  Neither of the other two said anything, they were silent.  I said, “It may not be nice but I’m the only honest one to say what we are all thinking.”  They were all ready to ditch the dancer when the first opportunity came up, I would have at least explained to her why we were leaving.  Something like, “We have to leave but we want you to know that Jesus loves you and when you are ready to turn to Him, He will be the best listener you have ever had.”  But I sort of felt chastised in the car simply for putting into words what we all thought and they put on the church lady front of, “Be nice.  Jesus loves her too.”  Yes, I do know Jesus loved the dancer, but I think He too was rolling His eyes the way the night was going.  Not just at the dancer’s conversation but at the impolite way she was abandoned when she went for prophylactics. 

They were sugar sweet to her face, but ditched her at first opportunity.  But there are two sides to this story, too.  I need to forgive the ladies that were with me. I’ve always felt a little bit bad about that exit.  The dancer may well have been high on something and maybe doesn’t even remember the incident but I do.  I also felt bad that they were silent when I talked about the obvious thing that had just happened.  I looked up to those ladies who went with me to the strip clubs and they fell off their pedestal that day.  Was it their fault or mine?  The more I think about it, it was mine because I am the one who put them up there and set the whole thing up for failure.  The only one who has earned the right to be on the throne is God and God alone.  Everyone will fall short at some time or another, except Jesus.  So here is my formal recognition to say I forgive the ladies who went to the clubs with me.  I have harbored resentment in my heart because of my own issues and insecurities.  

One of the main reasons I stopped going to the strip clubs was because I can’t “hear” very well in a bar setting.  I never could.  I didn’t like to pretend that I could hear so I wouldn’t miss something important. Sometimes I would just not even attempt to make conversation. Our group of six went out to a Mexican restaurant to plan for the future trips to the clubs and there was loud music in the background, just like in the clubs.  All five of them were conversing and I could tell they had no problem distinguishing the words from the background music.  I took that as a sign that God was saying, this is not what I have for you.  I stopped going to strip clubs but here is a little bit of what I learned from my time doing it.

•              The ladies are hard working and not on the welfare rolls

•              Most are supporting children/some are married

•              Most have been molested as little girls

•              It is a tough business with a lot of competition

•              They have hopes and dreams of a better life like anyone else

•              I was much more disturbed by the men than the ladies who were just making a living

•              I would come home and have to shut my mind down from the images I saw

•              And finally, but for the grace of God go I.  Thank God I couldn’t dance!

Pure Joy

If you read my post from earlier in the month, “‘Not so’ Happy Mother’s Day,” I think you could see how uncharacteristic it was of me.  I normally do not vent like I did, at least not to anyone but God. I’m always happy to tell of joy, but when it comes to pain I don’s go public unless I’ve found the rainbow. But if nothing else comes of that post, you can know I am a real person with real, ongoing battles. 

I heard a sermon that talked about how when we have a problem, it always means the promised land is waiting for us just on the other side. Like following in Biblical pattern the Israelites were promised victory moving into the Promised Land, by one battle at a time.  And that is why we know we can rejoice in the process, as the victory for each step of the way is promised. That is a pretty amazing insight.

James 1:2-3 - Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 - Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

There is victory on the other side, you will have won a battle and moved further into claiming your inheritance.  That’s a win-win and worth a little bit of combat with the enemy to take hold of what is rightfully yours. The victory may not look exactly like what you imagine, but surely it’s worth it in the end.  How do you develop a victory mindset?

I was in a conference and the name of it had to do with a word for fire.  On the third day of the conference when our speaker was being announced, I smelled smoke.  I sort of glanced around me to see if anyone else smelled it wondering if there was something to be alarmed about. Everyone was just watching the stage.  I smiled to myself and thought, wow that’s pretty cool because where there is smoke there is fire.  I didn’t think about it too much, just sort of smiled knowing God can do anything.  When I got home and crawled into bed while I was thinking about the course of the day, I smelled smoke again.  No one in my house was smoking, the windows weren’t open and there it was again, the smell of smoke

I remembered how Paul told Timothy to fan his faith into flames.

2 Timothy 6:5-6 - I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.  For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands.

He fully had my attention when I smelled smoke for the second time, so how do you fan smoke into flames?  Well, in the natural you give it oxygen, and it ignites and spreads the fire.  But how do you do it in the spiritual?  Rejoice, pray and be thankful in all circumstances. By doing these things you are breathing Him in, providing the very element needed to accelerate the fire. Basically we are as close to Him as our next breath proving once again it is not in those bigger than life moments when you try to measure your success but in the peaceful, intimate closeness when your chest rises and falls with each breath. That’s where the real preparation takes place, building your faith, fanning it into flames, so you can walk out and heal the leper.  It is just so completely opposite of what I think might work, that it is actually brilliant!

Every breath is watering and nurturing the seed planted inside of us.  I used to think it was tears that watered the seeds but now I think it is the breathing in of the Spirit into my lungs, surrounded by peace and joy, thus creating the most life-giving environment to produce fruit.

As I go about my every day routine and I choose joy over aggravation, and choose to see the victory over the battle, I am growing up in the Lord, waiting for those “great” moments. I know they are only possible because of the seed planted while seemingly nothing was taking place. Those times when there is no big fanfare, no accolades of honor, no applause; just Jesus and I breathing together, fanning faith into flames.

Innocent

The enemy entices us to sin and tempts us to break God’s laws. Then when we do, he condemns us and tells us to keep it to ourselves, that we are alone in our guilt and shame.  And it works.  And until a few brave or “had enough of it” people step forward to break the silence, the pattern is continued over and over, generation after generation. 

All it takes is one person to break the silence.  I feel that is me in reference to losing my daughter at my own hands in 1987. Would it have been easier to keep quiet?  I don’t think so, not in the long run. Suffering in silence never leads to healing.  Exposing my crime to the world, laying down my pride and letting God do the necessary work in my heart and mind was the only way out of that one.  

You may find yourself in a man-made pit or a pit of another kind but either way a pit is a pit.  So anywhere life takes you, you’re always dragging your pit along with you.  (Do you like my play on words☺)  Do the brave but ultimately easier thing and expose it. Someone else’s healing may lie in the balance. We have a responsibility to share our healing.  

I learned something recently, or should I say I relearned something to a deeper level.  I am not only forgiven, which is cool, really cool.  I am now innocent in God’s eyes.  He doesn’t look at my past list of sins and give me a check mark that He forgave me of numerous things; He doesn’t even see the list.  He looks at my past and sees a clean empty slate, and says, “Yeah, that’s my Sue.” So we have gone from being forgiven to being innocent.  If forgiven was good, innocent is even better.  The word justified means, “just as if I had never sinned.”  Justified also equals innocent.  I know I have never looked at myself as being innocent before in my life, not even as a child growing up, but I am innocent.  Jesus did that for me.  And He did it for you too.  There is only one thing to do and that is to take hold of the truth and walk in our new identity.  

In a way it’s like I feel I should not go there – Innocent.  Like I am accepting something I didn’t earn. And the truth is I haven’t earned it aside from the love of God.  He calls me innocent.  And if I wasn’t a believer I could think He isn’t seeing things clearly because for some reason He isn’t seeing my past clearly.  But here is the truth. He is seeing me clearly, I am innocent and He wants me to take hold of it despite what religion has taught the world for generations.  We are God’s innocent children.  It doesn’t give me a license to sin but to focus on living up to His expectations. He says I’m innocent so I live an innocent life.  I live up to my Daddy’s name, the one He gave me. It has taken all the rules away and all I want to hear from my Father is, “Well done, my good and faithful child.”

I wonder sometimes how much more He can download into me because each lesson like this just blows my mind a little bit more.  Like every day I woke up until this day in history and believed something else, then He comes along and tweaks it to be even more clear.  Now tomorrow or next week He will undoubtedly take something else and blow my mind some more.  And it is not like I get into pride because as He tweaks away, I am more in awe of Him, fully knowing “but for the grace of God go I.”

All I can say is, get to know Him, be open to hearing His voice and let Him lead you.  Fear, shame, guilt and condemnation are NOT from Him.  If you are locked into a pattern of those things please know the enemy is behind them and here’s the good news, if you have given your life to Jesus they are a lie.  You are a new creation with an innocent past.  Almost sounds too good to be true but it isn’t.  He’s the real deal made in love.  The love coming from Jesus’ blood which runs warm to each of us this very day.  You have one small but profoundly large thing to do, receive Him.

"Not so" Happy Mother's Day

I’m going to rant here today.  I usually don’t but I’m going to be the voice of all the mothers out there who are without their children, for whatever reason.  My only child is passed away.  And Mother’s Day came as it does every year and no one said her name to me.  They don’t want to hurt me. Like for some reason not saying her name eases the pain? That mentality could not be further from the truth. The only time her name was mentioned was when I typed it as I logged onto my computer to unlock it.  

I spent Mother’s day morning in a cemetery.  Not even the cemetery she is buried in, just a random cemetery.  It wasn’t morbid, really. I could feel the presence of God. I didn’t end up going to church as sometimes all the “happy” mothers are too much to take.  I’m just being real here.  It’s not always this way, I was quite surprised that it hit me hard this year.  I felt the tears welling up on my way out of the driveway and they continued to flow on my drive.  

Maybe you have a child that has passed away. Maybe you have an estranged child, who for whatever reason doesn’t want to see you, maybe they live far away. Maybe you are not able to have children and you are longing to be a mother, maybe you feel guilt and pain for having an abortion, or maybe it is a circumstance I haven’t even conceived of.  I’m telling you this, God sees your pain. God knows the million times you are a “mother” to others.  The Ancient of Days wastes nothing, forgets nothing. And He wants to comfort you now.

There is a part of me that would like to slip off into a depression and just escape till forever is gone. And the Scripture God keeps giving me is, “I have set before you life or death, choose life.”  Life is putting on a smile (fake at first, then gradually having it become a reality), and if that is what I must do, I will. Death is wallowing in it and thinking of the million things people did or did not do or say. 

I heard on the radio on my way down the road what people should do if someone is missing a child on Mother’s Day.  They should indeed make a point to bring up the child and mention the child by name and wish them a Happy Mother’s day. It is just as simple as that. There is an elephant in the room and do you think not mentioning their name makes it easier?  I can tell you from personal experience, it makes the mother feel forgotten and the child dispensable.   I can assure you this, the “mother” is thinking of her child so you will not be reminding her that she’s a mother or not a mother.  Trust me she knows, and likely just beneath the surface there is a well of tears waiting to be released, not by a cruel person reminding her of her loss but someone who cares enough about her to remember the million mothering things she still does every day.  

I thank God that He understands when no one else does.  And I am reminded once again that He is good.  He is where my hope lies even if my tears try to tell me differently.  I am looking up because from where I am right now I have two choices: down into the pit or up to the heavens.  I choose life.

I wish I had some magic formula or words to wash away the tears. If this resonates with you in some way, I hope knowing you are not alone will be comforting to you.  Look for the rainbow today, God will provide one, but you won’t see it when you are looking down. I know.