Category Archives: Choices

So Many Relationships

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Journal 2018

According to University of Oxford professor Dr. Robin Dunbar, the average person has three to five close friends and can only maintain up to 150 people in their social network.

Besides family members, I have 600 “friends” on Facebook, 20 neighbors on my street, 909 names in my phone contact list, 200 church members I’d like to get to know, a 12-member ladies’ Bible study group, 45 boarding school classmates, 2000 MKs in a database I maintain, missionaries we know or support from around the world, many friends we’ve made in 4 states, and 350 clients we’ve prayed with over the years. My mind is a little overwhelmed at the thought of all these connections, for I can only focus on one person at a time.

I like to say I choose God first, then my husband, then my kids and grands, and after that the world. And yet that choice is not necessarily time driven. I spend far more time in a week with other people than I do with some family members. Perhaps the issue is more about intimacy and where my heart is.

Someone described relationships as circles, where you place your most intimate persons in the center. But the visual doesn’t work well for me. It’s far more fluid and less rigid than that. Even the word priority doesn’t make the grade because, though my husband comes first most of the time, he doesn’t always. Sometimes a child needs more attention, or a friend is in crisis.

I need a better visual.

At first, I saw strings and chords attached to everyone I knew, but that picture was way too messy, and the cords far too tangled. I suspect my metaphor is closer to a river-of-life theme. I live and dwell on my own boat, but I visit different boats at different times. I’m tied to my husband’s boat through the bond of marriage, but we respect each other’s space. Others come on board at different times in my life and step back to their own boat or off onto shore when the visit is done. Sometimes a flotilla of boats travels with me. Each boat is labeled by its group name or category: neighbors, clients, Facebook friends, or church. Every three years, my classmates and I step onto the boat labeled “Reunion,” and then we return to our own boats. We step on and off each raft or boat at different times and for different purposes.

A 2026 Update. Except for my list of Facebook friends (which remains the same because I largely ignore social media now) my list of connections just keeps flexing. I have more grandchildren, church members come and go, I dropped a Bible study, added a book club, and have seen 250 more clients. Friends have gone to heaven and neighbors have moved away. I still only have the time or emotional capacity for deep connections with a handful of people.

What’s your metaphor for relationships?

Leaders Who Fall

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Journal 2018

When a prominent leader in the Christian community falls from grace due to misconduct, the name of God gets maligned, ministries fail, illusions are burst, and our judgmental hats turn bright red. We self-righteously declare, “I would never do that!” We don’t like it when our heroes fall, for the ground beneath us shakes, or it potentially exposes our own weaknesses. What if King David had been our spiritual leader? The media would have crucified him for his moral failure.

When an allegation of wrongdoing arises, what should be our response? Take sides? Judge the person with guilt or innocence based on hearsay or testimony? What if the accused is innocent? How do we know which side is telling the truth?

The bigger question for me is not what the accused leader did or did not do, but how he handles adversity. If guilty, does he confess and forsake his sin, like David did? (Exposure of sin is not a bad thing if it leads to repentance and healing.) Or does he dig in his heels and become defensive? If innocent (like Jesus was), does he forgive those who wronged him or does he become outraged and lash back?

Woman sitting in church with rosary beads next to framed photo and lit candle
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On Anger

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Inner Healing

Journal 2018

When Jesus healed a man with a withered hand on the Sabbath, the Pharisees became so angry they plotted to kill Jesus. They had more regard for keeping rules than ministering to people. In turn, Jesus was deeply distressed and angry at the hardness of the Pharisees’ hearts.

I notice here two types of anger:

  1. Unrighteous, cruel, jealous, hate-filled, self-protecting
  2. Righteous, compassionate, justified, love-driven, protecting others

Russ Hudson says there are 3 responses to anger:

  1. Acting out. For example, discharging energy by raising our voice, destroying things, or using forceful aggression. We don’t really experience the anger, so we don’t get rid of it. It stays with us, and it destroys relationships.
  2. Denying it. When we fear anger in ourselves or others, we dissociate from it, leading to feelings of powerlessness, unimportance, resentment, and aggressive outbursts when it builds up.
  3. Trying to contain it, repress it, or hold it inside. This leads to sarcasm, put-downs, and terse impatience, leaving people feeling disrespected.

Anger as an emotion is not sin. It’s what we do with it that becomes destructive to ourselves and to others. Anger is usually a guardian part of our heart that covers another emotion. For example, it’s easier to feel anger than to feel fear or pain. But self-protecting anger keeps pain alive, hidden away. It’s only when we agree to let anger go that we can begin to heal.*

But what if there were a fourth response? Good creative anger, staying present in the energy of it for a while, leads to addressing the difficulties of this world. For example, Jesus stayed present with His anger when He cleared out the temple. The organization MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Driving) began with one woman’s brave decision to turn her anger and grief into action. But even righteous anger over an injustice is best handed over to God, whose job it is to make everything fair and just in His own time.

So how can you harness your anger for good? Begin to take note of your anger patterns. How does your body respond? Where do you feel the tension? Learn to recognize your pattern while it’s occurring. Do you tend to hold it inside? Let it explode onto people and things? Once you’ve identified your anger, you get to decide whether to feel it, hide it, keep it, or release it. The challenge is, according to the Scripture, there should be a shelf life on your anger: until the sun goes down. Otherwise, we give opportunity for the evil one to take advantage of us (Ephesians 4:26). What a different world this would be if we all followed this pattern!

*Sometimes a client will say, “I feel annoyed,” not realizing that anger is on a continuum from mild annoyance to full-blown rage (annoyed, cross, peeved, irritated, irked, exasperated, vexed, angry, furious, wrathful, rage-filled). These are all choice emotions to help us manage an underlying one.

The Organized Mind

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions

Journal 2018

My mind is fighting itself this morning as I try to study the Word. This summer is so jam packed with travel, ministry, company, goals, and family events, it’s hard to stay present. I wake up with to-do lists in my head, with plans, ideas, and needs taking up more prefrontal cortex space than I care to give it. Feeling a little overwhelmed, my foot starts jiggling again.

I’m currently listening to a fascinating book on brain research: The Organized Mind: Thinking Straight in the Age of Information Overload, by Daniel J. Levitin. The author addresses the neurological importance of proper sleep, the inability of the brain to focus on more than one thing at a time, how multitasking actually reduces effectiveness, and the role of memory. I just wish I could retain all this information. (Click here for a summary video of the book.)

I already practice many of the principles the author suggests, but I struggle sometimes getting into the flow (as he terms it). This is when our left brain stands still and we go into right-brain mode to write, paint, or create music. When I have a lot on my mind, it’s harder to stay there.

One of my takeaways from the book is that mindless daydreaming mode is actually very purposeful. We need it. It’s almost like REM sleep where our brain sorts and searches and organizes information. We need time to daydream and not fill our minds 100% with stimuli and entertainment. What is screen time doing to my brain if I don’t ever give it a rest? If it’s not the computer, it’s the phone. If it’s not the phone, it’s the TV or iPad. So, when I wake in the morning, it’s hard to stay focused on God. My mind is going crazy trying to keep up with my schedule.

Visual: I’m balancing on the top rung of a floor-to-ceiling library ladder, randomly grabbing books off the shelves. I want to read them all, but which book do I start next? Where should I focus? How do I cram a lifetime of goals into what’s left of my short life span? I need a system, a plan. I can’t possibly read them all, and I don’t want to waste my time. I want to organize my life in an overcrowded library.

Balance

Yesterday was one of those days when I’d stretched to my limit of emotional and psychological endurance. When I get unbalanced (people versus alone time, leisure versus work), I must make adjustments to return to equilibrium. There’s my part and there’s God’s part. When I bleed over into trying to do God’s job, I take on burdens that harm me. The battle may be the Lord’s, but I must do my part and take care of my body, feed myself spiritually, and make wise decisions.

I need to leave the library for a while and stop rushing, relax, and gain some perspective. I need to be okay with not meeting a goal or a deadline. So today I think I’ll skip some of my scheduled activities, go for a walk, clean up my e-mail inbox, and organize a closet. The library books will still be there when I return.

How to Live the Bible

Posted on by under Choices, God

Journal 2006

How to Live the Bible. What a great title for a book! I wonder if it’s been published before. If I were to write this book, what would I include?

First, I’d begin by confessing and forsaking all known sin in my life (deeds as well as inner thoughts).

Next, I would learn to listen to the Holy Spirit for daily guidance and follow His direction.

Third, I’d hide God’s Word in my heart. I’d memorize great chunks of Scripture.

Fourth (and this is not in order of importance), I would make a concerted effort to surround myself with a support system of believers.

Fifth, I’d maintain an accountability relationship with someone I trust.

And sixth, I’d devote my life to serving others with my God-given gifts and talents.

A 2025 Update. I notice my list did not include the point of salvation. That’s a given, for if you don’t have a relationship with the author of the book, it’s really hard to live the principles. Today, my list would be a lot simpler: love God and love others.

Slander

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Scripture

Journal 2020

 Rid yourself of . . . slander. I Peter 2:1

Webster defines slander as “false and damaging statements about someone.”

This verse convicts me. I never intentionally say false things about others, but I can make assumptions that might not be accurate. I know it’s not right or fair or honoring, but my words of judgment fly out when I’m feeling triggered. We are all made in the image of God, part of the same race, so when I slander another human being, I hurt myself in the process.

What is the difference, I wonder, between stating a fact about someone (e.g. he’s an alcoholic) and slandering him (e.g. you’ll never believe what Michael did yesterday…) The first may just be acknowledging the truth, while the motive of the second is clearly meant to spread gossip. Is my intent to bring this person down to my level? To delight in sharing a juicy bit of news?

I heard recently someone’s recollection of her mother—that she never said an unkind word about other people. How commendable! “If you can’t say something nice about someone, don’t say anything at all,” is often attributed to the daughter of President Theodore Roosevelt. I want my words as an older, mature woman, to protect others in my speech, not tear them down because of my stuff coming to the surface—which, in the end, merely reveals the darkness of my own heart.

I repent and ask God’s forgiveness and mercy as He teaches me to #1 work through my triggers, and #2 hold my tongue.

Do not pay attention to every word people say or you may hear your servant cursing you …. For you know in your heart that many times you yourself have cursed others. Ecclesiastes 7:21-22 (NIV)

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Intimacy with God

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Peace

Journal 2020

In the beginning stages of a human love relationship, there’s an emotional high, an excitement, a drive to spend as much time together as possible. Then life happens, and you struggle to work through disappointments that the fairytale doesn’t exist. The same can happen when you begin a love relationship with God. The initial joy of finding a perfect partner in life gets buried under disillusionment and painful circumstances. You find He’s not what you first expected.

Yes, I know Jesus loved me enough to die for me, and that knowledge is all good, but it doesn’t impact me emotionally. I’ve heard it for 65 years in thousands of sermons, and somehow now I’m obligated to serve Him whether I like it or not. I’m in this marriage now because I said “I do” when I was five years old, but it’s not an equal partnership. He is everything, and I am nothing. And maybe I hold back or cringe if I sense Him coming on too strong—like He wants something from me, and I may as well give in, whether I like it or not because He’s going to get His own way in the end anyway. “Thy will be done” might mean there’s suffering to follow, and what if I prefer to stay in my comfort zone, guarding my heart and trying to shield myself from pain?

And somewhere, somehow, a part of my heart holds out, self-sufficient, anticipating harsh judgment from the God of the Old Testament, surprised at His betrayal, and believing He expects absolute perfection, surrender, and obedience to His will.

Through time, as I work through my painful childhood memories, my relationship with my husband begins to heal and grow and deepen, and I find my intimacy with my creator begins to change as well. I learn more of His compassionate heart, never condemning me or forcing my will. He is the embodiment of I Corinthians 13 love. In the end, when I allow my guard to stand down, and I embrace what is to follow, there’s sweet fellowship and excitement at renewed intimacy and a deepening passion that feels safe. I’m returning to my first love.

Triggered by Triggers

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Inner Healing, Peace

Journal 2018

Why do I get triggered when others get triggered?

Why is it okay for me to feel something negative while I judge you for losing it? What about my own ungodly reactions? How hypocritical can I be? You have to endure me, too, when I get angry and say things I shouldn’t. Don’t I want you to love me anyway and give me grace? Of course! But I get weary of your ungodly choices. I expect you to be farther along in your healing, so why don’t I expect the same of me? Why do I hold you to a different standard? It’s such a battle for the mind.

So why does your trigger affect me? Maybe it has to do with expectations. I expect to live in a perfect world. I expect to have a perfect day. I expect a birthday to be all about me. I expect Christmas to be full of joy and peace. I expect to not have my boundaries trampled. I expect you to have the emotional maturity of your physical age. I expect to have good health till the day I die, and my clothes to always fit, and the roof to never leak. I expect my mango to be sweet and my new car to never get dented. I want to live in a state of perfect harmony and peace, and your reactions allow a foul wind to blow. And when my expectations aren’t met, I’m sad, angry, and disappointed.

When that happens, do I pout? Clam up? Put on a happy face? Steel myself mentally or physically for your responses and reactions? Give up all expectations or just expect the worst?

When I erect a steel-plate armor to protect myself, I’m encased in a jail cell. My heart grows cold, and I distance myself from my Heavenly Father (the source of love) and from a compassionate heart.

I repent of my self-protection and preservation. I give permission to Jesus to drill and unscrew and remove my steel plate so I can step out, free of bondage. Without my armor, however, I am weak, pale, starved, and thirsty for connection. Jesus gently ministers to my shrunken frame, murmuring, “I’ll be your protection. I love you. I will never leave you or forsake you. You are Mine.”

In my visual, Jesus leads me up to the roof of the Castle of My Heart, where we sit in rocking chairs, enjoying the sunshine together. He doesn’t say much, but I’m suddenly aware that even this perfect state could be disrupted at any time. Off to our left, a messenger arrives bearing a white envelope on a silver platter. A letter for me? It’s so pretty and pure. A love letter, I hope. But I’m expecting the worst. I’m reluctant to open it. Will I find gray ashes inside?

Now I can see the metaphor clearly. I want the missive to be a love letter, a perfect day, my desired Christmas gift, a friend who never criticizes my choices, a carefree marriage, and always-obedient children. My expectations are founded on gray ashes.

“Open it,” Jesus commands, and when I do, I’m startled when a pure white dove flutters out and flies away. I peek inside to find a ruby red heart. I’m puzzled.

“Your heart is what determines your destiny,” He says. “Your perfect day cannot be spoiled by someone else’s choices if your heart is pure.” And with that, He places the heart inside my chest. “Your heart is protected and surrounded by my love and care, and nothing can touch it there except your own willful choices to use your own self-protection or to refuse to release your pain.”

Father, I invite you and implore You to protect my heart where I’m vulnerable and weak, so that I don’t fall prey to the enemy’s lies and deception.

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Bucket of Cold Water

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, Inner Healing, Peace

Journal 2020

I was having a glorious time—perfect spring day with everything in blossom, enjoying a walk, sitting on the deck, delighting in sunshine and a soft breeze on my skin. Feeling genuine joy, contentment, and happiness . . . when spoken words, negative in content and tinged with anger, dashed my sunshine with cold water. I lost my joy, and my inner anger flared.

Why do some people carry around buckets of cold water, ready to douse the first bit of joy they sense in others? I know it’s their protection to cover their pain, but please pour the water over your own head and cool yourself off before you enter my space!

I use my own anger to try to bring some warmth back to my cold body, but it’s a warmth that is self-induced and unproductive. I willingly hand my anger to Jesus, and in my visual I step into a warm shower. Now I feel the sadness and disappointment of a ruined moment, a stolen joy.

“I am your source of joy,” Jesus says. “My presence is what brings you pleasure, and nothing can separate us . . . not man, not beast, not any evil spirit or Satan himself. I am the Light, your warmth, your provider, shield, and protector.”

The day was not ruined after all.

Prayer Burdens

Posted on by under Choices, Emotions, God, Inner Healing, Peace, Prayer

Journal 2018

My heart is heavy this morning with the news that a friend is nearing the end of her life, and another is struggling to function with a disease. Perhaps God put the heaviness there so that I will pray for my friends. Perhaps I’m believing a lie. Or maybe it’s tapping into something unresolved in my own heart. I see worry lines across my forehead.

In my mind, I lift my dying friend’s wasted skeleton and lay her gently in the lap of Jesus. He smiles. She is in good hands.

I see my other friend limping and leaning heavily on my left shoulder as I try to keep her upright. I’m sad and I don’t know why. My knees buckle under her weight, while Jesus waits for us to reach Him. Why isn’t He stepping forward to help? We sit for a while and rest, and still He tarries. I believe I have the responsibility to get her there, but I can’t. All I can do is sit with her till help comes. And as I relax and encourage her, Jesus sends angels to minister to her. They gently soothe her, but her earthly pain remains. Then I see the angels lift her, chair and all, to His feet. I follow and I watch.

“Are you ready, my child?” He whispers in her ear.

“Not yet,” she replies. And so he instructs the angels to carry her to Sick Bay.

It seems I’m next. “Come here, my child,” He says. “What’s troubling you?”

“It’s that word responsibility again,” I say. I know that whatever “it” is doesn’t belong to me.

“No, But love does. Staying with her and not walking away is what I ask of you.”

“That’s the easy part; I can do that.”

“Then visit her in Sick Bay and let her know she’s not alone in her pain.”

It’s often easier to try to fix another’s pain in order to relieve my own, but prayer is not about telling God what to do. It’s about letting go of my expectations and listening to His instructions.