Pretty Woman–God’s Perspective

On Thursday, January 26, I will be the guest speaker for Colorado Springs, CO, DreamMakers, a ministry for single women of ALL walks of life.  Whether you are widowed, never married, separated, divorced, young, young-at-heart or feeling REALLY OLD, if you’re a single woman, you are welcome to join us at Woodmen Valley Chapel’s Café area,  290 East Woodmen Road from 6:30 to 8:30 p.m.   Here’s a sneak preview of my topic, “PRETTY WOMAN—God’s Perspective”.

Have you ever bumped into a girlfriend you haven’t seen in a long time and the first thing out of her mouth is, “YOU Look GREAT!”  Do you think to yourself…“Liar!”? 

Inside, you’re saying, “I’m overweight, my hair’s a mess, my tan has faded, I’ve got bags under my eyes, I bite my nails, I’m undisciplined, insecure, untalented, unworthy, and ugly.”  Then you hear these words spill out loud, “Thank you! You look Great too!!”? 

Why do we do that?  What in our spirit compels us to dig up all the junk we possibly can about ourselves and then accept it as gospel?  Why do we default to the negative voices in our head rather than cling to the truth of what God says about us?

In 1990 Julia Roberts starred in a movie called Pretty Woman.  You probably even saw this movie.  Roberts portrayed a beauty who made her way in the world by cashing in on her looks.  She lived as though she believed her only worth was in selling her body to the highest bidder.  Oddly though, an ache inside her told her there had to be something better out there.  I remember thinking how strange it was that her character would give herself from the neck down to just about anyone with cash in hand yet she had a hard & fast rule that she would not KISS any of her customers.  She so wanted to believe there was MORE for her than what she was getting paid for, and she held on to a tiny bastion of hope, allowing no one access to the sacred sanctuary of her lips.

What is it in my spirit that has caused me at times to live like this Pretty Woman?  No, I’m not a prostitute.  At least not in the literal sense defined by the law.  But you can bet there have been times in my life where I’ve compartmentalized my value and marketed myself for less than God says I’m worth.   I behaved as if I scarcely deserved 50 cents worth of Christ’s Love but not the full price of His Sacrifice.  Like the Pretty Woman I held certain small things sacred but would rummage through refuse in most other areas of life.  I didn’t value myself the way my Jesus does.

I see this so often in single women and it breaks my heart.  We might start out feeling like we are beautiful but somewhere along the road we lose touch with our true beauty.  Once like a stunning evening gown in Nordstrom, we hung in there for a while.  But the clock ticked off too many days, weeks, months and we were relegated to the sale rack.  Sadly, we did it to ourselves by taking a virtual red marker to our soul’s price tag. 

First, it was just a little…10% off.  We’re still feeling like we are worth a lot but we’re hoping this small mark down gets us noticed.   When it doesn’t, we pick up the pen again…20% off.  Surely now someone will snatch us up…for a date, a promotion, a relationship, a party invitation, a leadership role.  We’re looking for validation from someone, anyone.  And when we still don’t get what we think we need, we tell ourselves it’s because we don’t deserve good things.  Again we pick up the pen… 50% off.  The danger?  We keep discounting our worth until we end up in some bargain basement sale for 90% off.  Or donating ourselves to some guy named Good Will.  Trouble is, Good Will often has Bad Intentions.  What Happened?

In this presentation, we’re going to take a look at things single women use to define ourselves…the tools & traps this world offers us to trade not just our confidence but our true value for.  You may recognize several of these “tools” as ones you have applied to yourself.  You may even have others I don’t mention.  Our goal is to have some fun, maybe even laugh at ourselves, and to also thoughtfully consider who we think we are and who we REALLY are from the perspective of the Grand Designer of the ultimate Pretty Woman.  

I Am the 70%…and 78%

Rasmussen released a poll a few days ago showing for the 3rd year in a row, Americans prefer “Merry Christmas” as opposed to “Happy Holidays”.    A separate poll earlier this year by this same organization revealed that 78% of Americans believe Jesus Christ was the Son of God.  Obviously, there is no way to tell how much overlap exists between the 70% and the 78%.  But would it be reasonable to assume that most people professing belief in Jesus as the Son of God prefer to acknowledge the birth of Christ as the Reason for this Season as opposed to merely wishing someone benign holiday sentiments?  I’m a bit curious about that 8% difference though.

Yesterday while waiting in my favorite line at Wal-Mart…the “20 items or less” {fewer} line, I counted 5 shoppers in front of me and 4 more behind me.  At the front of what should have been an express line, the cashier stood motionless waiting helplessly on a shopper who sent her son back to the far reaches of the store to retrieve one forgotten item.  As people became increasingly disgruntled by what most considered a selfish delay, I decided to break into song.

“JOY to the World, the Lord has come…everybody join in…”  The response surprised me.  Shoppers waiting with me in line initially turned to see who the crazy woman was.  In a flash of comic relief…or I prefer to think of it as Christmas Cheer…they decided to sing along.  In mere moments, tension and frustration dissolved into festive self-amusement as several off-pitch enthusiasts joined in singing, “Let every heart prepare Him room and heaven and Wal-Mart sing, and heaven and Wal-mart sing, and heaven & heaven and Wal-Mart sing…”  Applause and laughter followed.

When finally my turn came to check out, the grateful cashier enthusiastically greeted me.  “Happy Holidays…and Merry Christmas,” she said smiling, as if somehow she knew I am in the 70%…and the 78%.

JOY to the World, the LORD has come!

Chair of Thanksgiving, Single Mom Style

I have a dear friend who has a Chair of Thanksgiving where she faithfully meets with Jesus each morning.  A pretty, decorated basket next to her prayer chair is filled with her Bible, journal, pens, highlighters, a box of tissue and note cards to write encouraging Scripture to others to remind them to be thankful as well.  I admire my friend’s discipline and her commitment to meet with Jesus daily, to talk with him, listen for Him and thank Him.  I’m a bit envious that she has the luxury of doing all this from the comfort & quietness of her special chair.  My friend, however, is NOT a single parent.

I am a single mom and My Chair of Thanksgiving is portable.

It’s a white wooden chair at my kitchen table with my family.

It’s a swivel chair at my desk.

It’s a patio chaise on my back deck overlooking our Colorado skyline.

It’s a swing in a nearby park, a boulder on a hiking trail, a bicycle seat, a bench on a firing range–anywhere I’m fortunate enough to hang out with my kiddos.

It’s the front seat of my automobile, sometimes on the passenger side while my teen drives and I thank God for nerves of steel.

It’s a stadium chair at my son’s sports events.

It’s a cold, stiff chair in a doctor’s office.

It’s a sofa in a counselor’s office.

It’s a beach towel on a sandy Pacific shore.

It’s a window seat 33,000 feet above & between majestic Colorado & Alaska mountains.

And anyone who’s ever been a single mom desperate for a few minutes of solitude will understand when I say sometimes my Chair of Thanksgiving is a toilet seat!

My Chair of Thanksgiving is portable because my Bible tells me that I am to never cease giving thanks…

“Rejoice evermore.  Pray without ceasing.  In everything give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you.” I Thessalonians 5:17-18

As a single mom, I often struggle with ingratitude.  Some days I don’t feel like giving thanks.  It’s easier to feel sorry for myself, having to parent solo for the better part of 14 years, than it is to say “Thank You, Jesus”.   But when I begin to consider Who it is I am thanking, my gratitude takes on a whole other dimension even as a single mom.

As a woman who parented 18 children through birth, fostering and adoption, I’ve learned that I can be thankful because:

When I feel alone Jesus is “Immanuel, God with Us”.  His presence never leaves me, no matter how lonely my heart feels Jesus is always here with me.  He sees every tear and He holds my heart.

When my world is full of chaos, juggling schedules and homework and carpools and sport practices and doctor’s appointments, He is my “Jehovah Shalom, the Lord is peace.”

When I am exhausted and desperate for rest from all those mothering responsibilities, God is “Maon & Machseh, My dwelling place & refuge.”

When I struggle to make financial ends meet, God is  “Jehovah Jireh, the Lord who provides.”  My children may not always have what they want, but He faithfully gives us all we need.

When my heart breaks from hurtful things my kids say about me & to me, God is my “Magen, my shield,” to protect me from the arrows of young, uncensored mouths.

When I am overwhelmed in the spiritual battle for the hearts of my children, God is “Yahweh Nissi, the Lord my Banner “ who goes before me in battle and protects us.  Confident of His protection, I can fight any battle in His power & prevail in His strength.

When my kids try to push me around and I just don’t feel that strong, He is “Metsuda & Migdal-Oz, my fortress and my strong tower.”

When I am overwhelmed with guilt at all my failures, mistakes and motherly imperfections, He is “Jehovah Rophe, the God who heals.”, healing my mind and my heart, allowing me to forgive myself.

When I am confused about right decisions to make for my children, He is ”Rabbi, teacher” who shows me the path to follow.

When I am discouraged and feel I can’t keep going, He is “Miqweh Yisrael, the Hope of Israel, the God of Hope”.  Hope that steadies me in fear & trials, not because everything in life is picture perfect but because the God of Hope can be trusted in every situation.

Finally, When I am tired of being single and I long for a husband, Jesus is “Nymphios, my Bridegroom”.  I am married to my Lord.  And I can give thanks that my husband not only loves me deeply & unconditionally, He doesn’t leave the toilet seat up.

In this holiday season, I encourage you to embrace your Chair of Thanksgiving, wherever it may be.

Late Sunday Evening…

“Late Sunday evening when the disciples were together behind locked doors for fear of the Jews, Jesus came and stood among them. ‘Peace be with you,’ he said, and then he showed them his hands and his side.  So when the disciples saw the Lord, they were filled with joy. Jesus repeated, ‘Peace be with you…’”    John 20:19-20

Christ had been crucified like a common criminal.  He died and with Him died the courage of His followers.  His body buried in a cave.  Similarly, 10 of the remaining 11 disciples caved themselves behind locked doors.  They buried themselves, hiding in fear of what Jewish leaders would do  to them next.  Terror was palpable.

For three years Jesus walked with them, led them, taught them, inspired them.  His Presence had been their courage, their protection, their peace.  Now all of that was gone, vaporized with Christ’s last breath at Calvary.  Despite Mary’s proclamation earlier that day, “I have seen the Lord!”, there was no celebration among these men.  Only shaking in their sandals.  For all Jesus taught them and revealed to them… parables, sermons, signs, wonders, miracles, fulfillment of Old Testament Scriptures…it came down to this.  A backroom gathering of fearful, forgetful followers.

John 20:19 says, “Jesus came and stood among them…” I wonder, in their desperation for solutions, did they notice Him at first? Or were they too busy fretting over their circumstances? Were they reliving in heated conversation Christ’s arrest leading to his death?  Did they argue over who was to blame?  “John, you should have stayed awake with Him in the garden.”  “Peter, you ought not have lost your temper with the soldier.”

How long did Jesus stand in their midst before He cleared His throat and spoke?  “Peace be with you.”  Was it a shout? A whisper?   Perhaps a simple observation that peace found its way into the room the moment His Presence entered.

Peace.  The first thing Jesus spoke to His disciples was the very thing they needed most.  Fear that gripped them melted away as they beheld Christ’s hands and side.  The frightened group witnessed the Presence of Jesus and the Bible says, “…they were filled with JOY.”

How many instances in my life have I behaved like the disciples in hiding? Locked up with my emotions and fears.   Fretting over my personal
circumstances.  Playing my situation over and over in my head.   Feeling apprehensive and uncertain about my future. Wondering, “Where is God now?”

As if He knew the message bore repeating to distracted hearts like Peter’s, and
John’s…and mine…Jesus said a second time, “Peace be with you.”

Today as waves of my circumstances crash against shorelines of my existence I hear His voice.  “Peace.”  My deepest need is met in the presence of my resurrected Lord as He stands between me and the unknown.   It is this Peace of His Presence which leads me to JOY.

Father’s Day Tribute to Soldiers

My sons wrote this poem several years ago.  Someone reminded me of it yesterday and asked for a copy so I just decided to post it here.  

For My Soldier Daddy
by Matthew & Zechariah Allor

 
 My Daddy couldn’t be here
 cause he’s too far away.
I know he would have liked to come,
 to share this special day.
 
His country said they needed him
 and he prepared to go—
“When freedom’s on the line, ” he said,
 “you don’t tell freedom No.”
 
He lives out in the desert
 and sleeps out in the sand;
His helmet is his pillow,
 his rifle’s in his hand.
 
Some nights he doesn’t sleep at all
 he lays there in the dark,
 listening to the bombs explode
 watching gunfire sparks.
 
He walks the streets of Baghdad
 not knowing what he’ll find
He knows that it is dangerous
 but says he doesn’t mind.
 
He fights with those who need his help
 to try to take a stand
 against the cruel terrorists
 and bullies in their land.
 
 Some people called my Dad a pawn
 in President Bush’s game
They scream that war is hateful—
Well, they should be ashamed.
 
Those people with their protest signs
 I don’t think understand
Daddy went of his free will.
 He’s just that kind of man.
 
He fights to give us liberties
 and not just me & you—
He fights for those he’s never met
 cause that’s what soldiers do.
 
I’m proud of my Daddy
 and all that he’s gone through.
I wish that he could be here
 But he’s got a job to do.
 
So on this Father’s Day
 I hope you’ll say a prayer
 for men like my Daddy
 who fight because they care.
 
I hope that you’ll remember
 his honor & bravery
 are gifts that he is sharing
 so others might live free.