Bulldozers, Escapists, Doormats and Saints -- Hopes for the New Year

I bought myself a gift for Christmas this year -- a book* on confronting without offending.  It's a good gift for someone who likes to speak her mind and often says things like, "Oh, I wish I hadn't said that..."after the words fall out of her mouth.

Here's what I'm learning:  There are four kinds of approaches to confrontation:  The Bulldozers (The book calls it them Dictators), the Escapists (the book calls them Abdicators), the Doormats (the book calls them Accomodators)  and The Peacemaker--the ones who make it all work out to everyone's advantage. (the book calls them Collaborators). 

I am a Bulldozer who wants to be a Peacemaker.

As a Bulldozer,   I plow through situations without a lot of forethought -- because, hey, why do I have to think it through?  Don't I already know how this situation is going to play out? Haven't I already been here a hundred times before?  Bulldozers don't wait around for others -- they know what they want and they go for it.  They don't listen.  They don't consider.  But here's the truth about Bulldozers:  We are fearful.

Bulldozers have learned that the best Defense is a Noisy Offense.  It works most of the time, too. You get what you want, when you want it...only Bulldozers often discover the destruction they have left behind when it is too late.

Then there is the Escapist -- One wrong move, and these folks run for the hills.  You find them living in the hills, away from population.  I found extreme cases of Escapists in Key West (as far South as you can go) -- Hawaii, (as far West as you can go), Alaska (you get the picture...)  For those who don't have the financial resources to escape geographically, they escape by other means -- drinking, drugs, quitting jobs without explanation, leaving relationships either through work-addiction, adultery, hobbies...
They hop around because they don't want to involved since involvement means committment, and committment means having to stay in something even when it gets dicey.

Escapists are the ephemeral folks in your life that you can never really pin down because they get quietly offended and move out of your life without a word.  They never say "Goodbye" or "Screw You" or anything. You just look around one day and they are gone.  It is so difficult to make relationships work with them because they won't stay around long enough to even try.  They burrow into their comfortable place and disappear.  Fear rules them, too, but they just respond differently from the Bulldozer.

Doormats are, well, Doormats.  They put up with just about everything to make things "easy" and "workable" and "fun" and "OKAY".  Doormats have no boundaries. They let people in from every direction and through every device available in the 21st Century.  They want to get along but at the root of every doormat is a motherload of bitterness and resentment.

They want people to notice how overloaded they are -- but then they take on more and more and more.  They have headaches and neckaches and upset stomachs and JUST NEED TO REST every once in a while, but they rarely do, because there is always someone else needing help.  They don't say what they want because they are fearful that if they do, everyone will leave, or dislike them, or that there will be chaos. They just allow things to  happen, but they are deeply frustrated in the process.

Of course the Peacemaker is the one every Christ-follower strives to be -- the one who can work things out and help everyone walk away from the situation a better person.  This is the Ephesians 4:29 person who speaks in a way that gives grace to everyone in ear shot.  No one is offended, no one feels diminished through the encounter.

This is my heart's desire -- to be that Peacemaker.  It's my goal for the New Year -- to be kind to others, tender hearted, forgiving each other,  to take on what's mine and nothing else, to have healthy, life-producing and satisfying relationships, to edify with my words, and not tear down. 

It's a long jump from Bulldozer to Peacemaker,  but God is a God of bridges between gaps, of restoration and healing.  He is the Light.  He can quiet my tongue and soothe my spirit, if I give Him all my fears and self-protective strategies. He has taken me from Broken to Whole, from Lost to Saved, from Confused to Certain -- why couldn't He take me to Peacemaker?









*Confronting Without Offending by Deborah Smith Pegues  (Harvest House Publishers, 2009)



 
 
 

A great gift for Christmas...

One by one they file into the small room I humorously call the "holy of holies", a concrete space of ten feet by thirteen feet -- cluttered with small tables and chairs, two computers, a locked cabinet, an antique file cabinet, and a table/desk sturdy enough for me to sit on, while the other chairs are occupied by the women in ill-fitting, orange jump suits and black rubber crocs.  There are no windows, the door locks behind them.  It could be claustrophobic, if you thought of it that way -- I prefer to think of it as an oasis of peace.  I play a favorite song from the computer speakers:  You are awesome in this place, Abba Father... and the tears begin to flow.  Tears that have been held back until now.  Tears that show all the aching inside.

The ritual of our weekly Bible study is little more, in my view, than an opportunity to be here, together, and invite God's healing presence into our lives.  We learn from the Bible study, of course -- but the true learning takes place in the spaces between the questions.  "Does God love me?"   "Where are my kids?"  "Can I be forgiven for all I've done?"  "Can I make it up to my family?"

One woman in particular is troubled with the idea that God does not love her enough to send her a job, give her a car and things that "other, good people" have.  She is on "work release" which means she is able to go out and try to find a job where she can work while she is incarcerated.  It seems to her that everyone but she is blessed, and that God is punishing her for her many sins by not giving her what she most desires right now in her life.

Does anyone else feel that God is angry with her for all the wrong she has done? I ask.  Many nod yes.

What do you think God sees when He looks at you?


A mess.  A screw up.  Someone who can't control her temptations.

I asked the woman if she thought she had come to the place in her life when she had trusted God, had said yes to the invitation of Christ to come in and have a relationship with her, to give her the Holy Spirit?

She said she had.

  We all go to the third chapter of the letter that Paul wrote to the church in Rome -- Here is says, in verse 22:  We are made right in God's sight when we trust in Jesus Christ to take away our sins.  And we all can be saved in this same way, no matter who we are or what we have done.    For all have sinned; all fall short of God's glorious standard.  Yet now God in his gracious kindness declares us not guilty.

Now there is phrase that resonates with a room full of inmates:  God declares us "not guilty".

They eye me suspiciously -- tough women can't trust very well . 

It says you aren't guilty and you stand clean before God's eyes.

"And what if I sin again?"  one woman asks

"Then you ask for forgiveness," another one answers.

Silence.

"And again?"

"You ask for forgiveness."

They are all thinking the same thing:  "And again and again and again and again?  Doesn't he ever get tired of our messing up?"

Questions and What's Behind Them

Jesus ran into them:  questions to trap Him.   They were carefully constructed questions that would test his mettle:  Should we pay taxes?  Should we stone this adultress?

The questioners didn't want the answer, necessarily; they wanted to put Him into a box, make Him look bad, show Him for the poser they thought Him to be -- set Him up.

Another kind of question is a true, searching question, but with the feeling that the questioner already knows the answer, but wants to find some way to justify:  "I've done everything I can to be saved...what could possibly be left?" the rich young ruler wants to know. "I only started the sacrifices because you were late, " says King Saul to Samuel -- "What did you expect me to do?"

Here's a question posed to me in the ladies' Bible study yesterday in the jail:

"Is it a sin for me to sell drugs so my babies can eat -- cause I can't work and I can't get disability -- and I know if I had the chance, I'd do it again?" 

In other words:  Will God judge me for breaking the law if it's the only way I can eat and feed my family?

Now posing questions to answer questions is an age old technique:  When Peter was telling Jesus what everyone thought about Him, Jesus asked, "Well who do YOU think I am?" 

The Socratic Method, named after the Classical Greek philosopher Socrates,  is based on asking questions to stimulate debate

One Jewish writer says:  "as God leads us out of bondage in Egypt so the act of questioning leads us out of the bondage of ignorance."


There is nothing wrong with questions -- and the simple act of asking them aloud causes us to learn, before the answer is even offered.  Too often the teacher wants to rush in and answer without making true reflection available.

Doug Pollock, author of God Space and Irresistible Evangelism, believes in Questions. In fact, he offers a whole list of them on his website http://www.godsgps.com/ called "Wondering Questions".



So to the question about whether or not it is a sin to sell drugs to feed ones' babies, I give another question:
"Well, what do you think?"

In answering her own question, many truths are revealed:  she believes it IS wrong, she feels guilty, she honestly feels trapped by her lack of options. "But what about my babies.  I can't let them starve."

"Well where are your babies now?" another girl answers.  Are they better off where they are now, with you in here?

I said nothing(anything I was going to say would have sounded judgemental and alienating, I'm almost sure), and let the other women in the room answer the question, along with the questioner.  The power and wisdom of God was clearly at work, and the process so much more powerful than my going to Scripture, pointing to THE ANSWER, and moving on.

As a result of the questions and the discussion that followed, I learned (these ladies feel desperately trapped by their poverty and lack of options), they learned (it's okay to ask questions -- I already have the answers within me, through the Counselor living within me...) and we were willing to move forward in faith.  Later in the session, we discussed Advent and its meaning.  I had chosen a verse for the occasion before the class, but when it was read, God's ANSWER was manifest: Isaiah 1:18-20 (New Living Translation)

18 “Come now, let’s settle this,”

says the Lord.

“Though your sins are like scarlet,

I will make them as white as snow.

Though they are red like crimson,

I will make them as white as wool.

19 If you will only obey me,

you will have plenty to eat.

20 But if you turn away and refuse to listen,

you will be devoured by the sword of your enemies.

I, the Lord, have spoken

"I guess he's talking to me," says the questioner. 

Are you a boy or are you a girl? Gender Continuum and Ministry

The Gender Contiuum:



I genuinely struggle with this one: the women who are determined to be manly, the man who cultivates his femininity.

Take Gypsy, for example. Gypsy is what the world would suggest is a “woman trapped within a man’s body”. The Christ-follower, however, might say (as a friend of mine said to me): “God doesn’t put oranges on apple trees.”

In other words, that it is impossible for a man to be trapped in his own body and that he only feels that he is “an orange” based on some sinful consequence (not necessarily his/hers, but from somewhere along the ancestral line).

Yesterday, I gave my class of inmates a writing assignment: Tell about the bravest thing you have ever done. Gypsy wrote that her bravest act is living as she feels: as a woman, despite her parent’s objections, despite the objections of her (Christian) upbringing.

Gypsy wears an expression of tolerance and determination: I have never seen her without it. She is kind, thoughtful, delicate in her wording – all the things I have struggled to be in my life – all the things that were “feminine” I was told – all the things I have generally failed to achieve. I barge in, I speak directly, I often trample over people’s feelings in an effort to explain my views. In every way, I could be called (and have been called) “indelicate”, “forceful”, “opinionated”. These are characteristics we generally award men.

Gypsy endures all the ridicule that comes her way – I can only imagine how much more in her cell with males – with a charm and grace I could only dream of having.

In my Bible Study for women at the same jail, there are women who are rough and salty:
pierced, large, painfully rude, and aggressive. They get in my face, forget to say thank you, yawn loudly and wonder how much longer we have to go on with this particular subject.

Now these are women I identify with. I don’t feel comfortable with them all the time. I don’t even like them all the time, but I identify with them. These are the Tough Women. These are the women who learned to push back before they were trampled. These are the women whose souls are so pink and raw inside that they have to spackle them with a crusty exterior.

So which ones are men and which ones are women? Are we defined by our genitals or by our outer mannerisms? Are we defined by how we see ourselves? How we are seen by others? By God?

I am not going into the sexual choices that these outer manifestations of gender often stir up. Sex without marriage is wrong in my view, regardless of where one places him/herself on the gender continuum.

My question is this: What is “a man” and what is “a woman”?

When interviewed recently, the grandmother of the South African runner, Caster Semenya, whose gender has been disputed said, “ What can I do when they call her a man, when she’s really not a man? It is God who made her look that way?”

I also know that the bible speaks of eunuchs, the only real example I can find in God’s word about “gender confusion”:

For some are eunuchs because they were born that way; others were made that way by men; and others have renounced marriage because of the kingdom of heaven. The one who can accept this should accept it." Matthew 9:12

But it is not confusion at all, really: some eunuchs were made eunuchs for the purpose of protecting their female mistresses (Candace, Esther to name a couple from the Bible). Others become “eunuchs” for spiritual purposes – keeping themselves spiritually and physically uncontaminated so that they can achieve their God-given mission on earth more completely, without distractions (Paul is a famous example). In both cases, the purpose is clear and is often a choice of the one being “eunuch-ized”

Tony Warren of The Mountain Retreat (online) says,

It's the way of the world today to turn everything upside down. To esteem bad as good, and good as bad. To make quoted scripture evil legalism and un-compassionate…

Apostasy and sloppy exegesis mixed with carnal or humanistic thinking has also brought these abominable ideas into the churches. Many people today just don't care what the Word of God says. They just want to be called a Christian and to live in peace with the world. They are just too deceived to understand that peace with the world, is enmity with God.

Here’s what I know to be true: Any brokenness can be healed by God. Any blight brought upon us by generations before us can be taken away by the power of The Spirit living within us when we accept God’s deal: the Great Exchange – our ashes for His Beauty.  This can be the compulsion to drink or to control or to deny our sexuality.

We are who we are at the moment, in the Now. Those of us who are true Christ-followers need look no further than within ourselves – we have the Mind of Christ, we have the Spirit of God living within us. He will teach us. He will counsel.

Anyone who does not have the Spirit of God living within them at this moment can, in the next moment. Just ask. He will dine with you. He will commune with you. He will live with you forever. You will be comforted and directed onto the correct path.

In the meantime, we must not retreat from the issues that are presented to us in this world, at this time: some people don’t feel comfortable in their own skin. Some people have been oppressed by others – even within the church – and have been wounded and pushed away.

And we, as followers of Christ, are called to compassion, to true agape love.  We cannot sift whom we will love from whom we will not love.  It's just not an option.  We are not the sifters, after all.  It's not our job.  Our job is to show the love of Christ in all situations and to all people, and to keep our eyes on our own faults and frailties. 

I choose to love Gypsy and the boisterous women inside the jail -- and the ones outside the jail, too.

Demon Tweets don't touch the Mind of Christ

One or two phrases meant to impact deeply:  that's a tweet.  Just a sentence or two -- in this ADD culture, it's about all we can take in at a time. I mean just pick up a book written before 1970.  Look at the spaces. There aren't any!  It just goes on, page after page, with no let up.  No paragraph headings to help us figure out what's coming next:  we are expected to sit still and absorb a lot of information, and process it. 

Today there are fewer words, more space, shorter sentences:  and the tweet is the essence of all of that.

And one of the most effective tweets we get is what I call "the demon tweet".  It's that little message, short and sour, that doesn't come on your phone or computer:  it comes from deep within.  It tweets that you aren't good enough, you're messing up, you're a lost cause, you'll never get it, it's too late for you, you're too old, you're used up, you've gone too far, no one loves you, everyone hates you, your sins are too messy, your temptations are too strong, you're too fat, your eyes are too close together, your hips are too big, your boobs are too small, you're off key, you're not creative, you can't do math, you can't learn, you can't remember, no one wants to hire you, you'll never have a job you enjoy, your relationships will always fail, you're damaged goods...

Where do these ideas come from?  Why do they keep playing over and over in your mind? 

Yes, it might have been what your mom told you, or your dad told you, or your teachers told you, or your spouse told you. Somewhere along the line, you got this idea...but why did it stick?  Why does it keep coming back?  Didn't anyone ever tell you anything good?  Why don't you remember that? 

How can a twenty-four year old decide that life has already passed her by?  How can a thirty-two year old decide that having an affair is the only way to spice up her life?  How can a forty year old become addicted to cosmetic surgery?

it's the tweets --

There is a weapon against the tweets.  I read this morning that when we first believe in Jesus Christ, we are given The Mind of Christ.  How can these tweets have any impact at all when we have the Mind of Christ? I have a friend who frequently reminds me that we have to put it on every day.  Before we step one foot out of the bed in the morning, we have to be armed -- pull out your weapon, put on your bullet proof vest, cover your head with the impenetrable Word.  The tweets will come -- be ready.

Out of Options -- Coming to The Truth

Heather burst into tears after a good ten minutes of sucking it up.  Slowly, she began to talk about the troubles she was having, the unfair punishment she was enduring, the people she was having to put up with back in her block.

         I mean on the street I would have been drunk.  I would've smoked a blunt.  I would've cut myself by now.  I would have stopped this pain somehow.  But in here.  God!  I'm out of options!

And with those words, she sank into herself.  She just gave up.

I'm out of options!   Could God hear any sweeter words coming from our lips?

That doesn't seem like a good thing to most people, I know.  We are an independent culture -- the strong thrive.  We don't go for help:    We do.  We make.  We survive.

This hurts so much!  she sobbed.

      Of course it does, I told her. You're going through it.  You're finally feeling it.

 Another woman rubbed her shoulder, You'll be a'right, baby -- it's somethin' we all go through when we finally come  to the truth.

The truth.

What is "truth"?  It was a question Pilate posed to Jesus as he was wrestling with the idea of putting an innocent man to death.  Truth is one thing.  "The Truth"  is another.  "The Truth"  is singular and final.  It is the root of existence.  Once you know that, everything else clicks into place.

Jesus said of Himself:  I am The Truth.

Heather just stood there before Him, like we all must do when we run out of options, hands empty -- without a clue how to get out of that knotted predicament where she found herself.

And did she even feel it?

The Transformation has taken place:  The Divine Exchange was made.

His righteousness for her sinful past.

Although it will take a lifetime of committment to take this journey, she was healed in an instant.

Although everything she has learned about life in this world is upside down and counter-productive, she now has within her all the Truth and Knowledge she needs.

Although she went to bed on an old steel bunk tonight, she is a Princess --daughter of the King!

Does she know it?  Will she live it all out? 
I told her I'd be there when she gets out on Tuesday -- and we'll see.  We'll just see.

Another week has passed:  Heather is on the street, with her new Bible and my phone number, but she has never called.  Apparently it's one thing in there and another thing out here.  Sometimes I think some of them would be better off just staying inside, where they can get some protection and food and a good Bible study.  A couple of days ago I read in the paper that a former inmate was found dead.  Twenty four years old.  She had left the jail a month before. 

I am getting a new perspective on ministry:  you just do what you can, while you can, when you can and you leave the rest up to Him. 

Too Good to Be True

Tough women are savvy -- they know what's what.  They are not often conned.  They are suspicious because they have been fooled before. So I wasn't surprised to see that skeptical look in Heather's eyes:  skeptical and hopeful too.


What do you mean God sees me as perfect?  She wanted to know. How could that be?


It's a ridiculous concept for those of us who know we are sinners, who have committed some pretty awful acts in these bodies to think that God-- who is perfect and complete and, oh by the way,  the Creator of the Universe,  could accept us as equally perfect?


I mean, He could have pity.  He could say -- yeah, you're messed up, but I'll let you in Heaven anyway.  That I could understand.


But perfect?


Here's one verse in Colossians:  ...He has brought you into His own presence, and you are holy and blameless as you stand before Him without a single fault.


Here's another:  God has utterly wiped out the written evidence of broken commandments, which always hung over our heads and has completely annulled it...


Ro 3:24 We are... freely pronounced righteous
 Utterly wiped out?  Completely annulled?  Holy and blameless?  Righteous? Without a single fault?








There are many more statements like that in the Bible:   too- good- to- be- true statements that any savvy, streetwise, skeptical tough woman would find a little hard to swallow.


What's the catch? Of course we all want to know that.  Everybody knows there is no free lunch -- nobody does nothing for nothing.


The catch is this:  you can't do anything to deserve it.  You can't work for it.  You can't earn it.  You can't compete for it.  You can't outdo someone else for it.  You can't give anything in exchange for it.  You can't DO anything.


That's enough to make a tough woman cry. 


Oh Jesus, here's the catch:  All you've got to do is let it happen.


You've got to be vulnerable.  You've got to be accepting.  You've got to be loved like you've never been loved in all of your hard-working, stressed-out, energy-sapping, heart-breaking life.


The stuff that happens after this acceptance?  That's not really up to you, either.  Once you've fallen in love, and taken His hand and said, "I do",  it's up to Him where we go next.  That's not so easy for the tough woman either.  We've been THERE before, we think to ourselves -- trusting someone who SAYS they'll take care of you but doesn't show up when it really counts.


This is different.  Remember?  When He sees you He sees nothing but love.  And -- oh by the way -- He's the Creator of the Universe.  What could go wrong?


(  Verses quoted in different versions:  Colossians 1:22, Col 2:14 , Romans 3:24)

Full Storage Space: Self-Condemnation takes up a lot of room

The one thing that always amazes me as I drive from my home in the country to the city -- the number of storage spaces.  It seems that wherever I go, new land is being cleared to develop large buildings where people store their stuff that doesn't fit into their homes.  I am not going to comment on what that's all about -- it's not my point today.

My point is that when we are full of guilt and condemnation,  there is no room for the good stuff that God wants to give us.

Tough women are full of self-condemnation, I have discovered.  We like to beat ourselves up over the past, over our mistakes, over the mis-use of our resources, over how we just spoke to the cashier...on and on... I believe the problem is thinking we have to store this stuff instead of just getting rid of it!

In the Bible study I lead (full of Tough Women inmates), we talk about all of this.  Today we're talking about integrity.  So, as the leader of the group,  I have to check whether or not I am clear of conscience -- and suddenly, I am reminded of something that I have been pushing away.  It's not a "big deal" as in "adultery" or "theft", but it is a small deal --- a little fudging of the truth, a little blurry line that I have not been paying attention to.  Back in the days of my drug addiction and rampant sexual behavior, it would have seemed like the least of my problems -- but today, it is there -- and I know it has been there for awhile, and I am also aware that its presence in my life has kept me from being totally available to God's Spirit working in me.  So what do I do with the awareness of the sin that has been running in the background for many months?

Here are some storage options: 

Stuff it like you do with those bags that you suck the air out of -- they make big things smaller, until you undo them.  I can just keep pushing it away from me.  Further and further back into the closet, piling it on top of other bags...
Archive the bad stuff -- like I do in my computer once a month. Just  zip up the files so they are smaller and take up less virtual space. 

The trouble is you always run out of room.  The trouble is it keeps coming back to overwhelm us.


The storage solution that  God offers is fairly straightforward:  

 1 John 1:9 -- confess your sins and he'll clean up the mess and toss it out for you.

Seems easy enough.  Say you're sorry and get on with your life. Don't keep putting it in storage. 

Assuming that we already knew this, what would be our reasons for storing instead of tossing? Here's a couple of possibilities:

We like the sin and we don't feel safe without it.  We think we might need it again, and we're not really ready to say "take it, Lord."

This was the case with the sin I ran into -- it is a self-preservation mechanism that makes me feel safe.  This feeling of unsafety is a welcome stronghold for Satan -- he loves to put his foot right in there and pry it open.  (God doesn't exist, he whispers -- God is angry with you.  God isn't looking out for your best interest.  He might overlook you.  You're too bad for Him to bother with; look at everyone else -- more important than you -- that He has to deal with...)

We like the condemnation --

The way that some enjoy torturing that little, painful corner of their cuticle is the same way some people like to remind themselves of all the horrible things they have done in the past.  It satisfies a strange longing to confirm the badness within.


Here's what we do when we allow ourselves to hold onto the sin in our lives, for whatever reason --
We use up good God space.

When we are occupied with stuffing sin into the back of the closet, we are not fully present.  We are not fully truthful.  We are not fully clean, and we can't completely fellowship with a perfect God.

This is not more fodder for self-condemnation -- to make you strive to be perfect.  The perfection does not come from our efforts, but only from our willingness to let God change us.  If we are holding on to something "safe", part of us is not holding on to Him.

The other thing is that God is good and He wants good for us. 

The tough woman self-preservation instinct has got to go.  We don't trust, and that's part of our make-up, but this is One we can trust.  This is One who really won't go away and leave us hanging.  This is One who doesn't just say "I love you".  He shows it every day.  He is the One we've been waiting for.

So give  Him the key to your storage unit, and believe He won't rip you off.

Aposematism: The Wrong Armor

Some tough women resemble certain animals in the wild:  they call attention to themselves with strange colors and designs -- purple hair stripes, endless tatoos, tongue, eye, and lip piercings --  not to attract, but to warn anyone coming near them that there may be a deeper danger lurking.
Tough women don't trust themselves not to let others get too close, so they put out every signal to keep them away.  In science, this  strategy is known as "aposematism"  -- the skunk's white tail, the strange odor from insects, the blowfish, twice its actual size -- all act as warnings.  Stay away from me, or you could really get hurt.

It gives the enemy time to pause and rethink its strategy, and gives the tough woman time to run in the opposite direction, to escape a potentially heart-breaking encounter.

Like the blowfish, we have been known to puff ourselves up dramatically -- full of sarcasm, hurtful words, biting jokes, gossiping, threats, betrayals -- anything to make us look fearless and foreboding.

Tough women need a tough armor.

But what I have come to understand is this:  Our armor is all wrong!  We think these methods of keeping others at bay will protect us from harm.  What God tells me is that His armor is so much better.

We must transfer the armor!

In Ephesians 4, we are told to put off those old, aposematic defenses -- anger, clamor, slander, filthy language --- these are techniques that let people know where we stand, who we are, and not to mess with us.  The trouble is, it's corrupt, it's decaying.  It doesn't hold up over time.  We are full of holes and easy targets.  Our emotions spill out all over everything, and we are not able so save ourselves.

Here's the armor that God gives us:  the helmet of salvation, the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the sword of the Spirit, the shoes of peace.  He tells us to put on kindness, tender-heartedness, forgiveness,  joy, patience, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self control.  There is not one hole left where we can be hurt.  This Redemption Love that He pours all over us seals us against any enemy who wants to attack.

We are covered with His oily, impenetrable Love armor.

But beware:  if you try to put on His armor over your old, corrupted, decaying armor the results will be something like what you found in your lunch box on Monday after you left it over the weekend.  You can't seal something like that.

You must put off the old stuff -- take off that slimy, worthless armor that has never given you anything but more stress and pain, and put on the new armor that God has designed just for you.  Designer Armor, if you will. This armor protects your tender heart.  It keeps the enemy from whispering those lies into your ear --
"You're not good enough."  "You're not smart enough."  "You're not able to keep this up. You're getting tired." 

God wants to teach us a whole new way to fight --

Tough women need a tough God.

Put off the works of the dark, arming ourselves with light -- Romans 13:12

The Abba Thing: A tough thing for tough women who love God

Abba?  I'm supposed to call God "Abba"  Like "Daddy"?  Tough women have a hard time with the whole Daddy thing.  I have been taking a poll -- based on a theory -- and so far, it comes out just as I expected.
Tough women didn't get on so well with their fathers, if they even had one in the picture.

Sometimes the fathers were abusive -- physically, even sexually.  Sometimes they were just critical and distant.  Most often, they were absent.  I am never surprised when I ask a woman whom I consider "a tough woman"  about her father and she just shrugs, gives me that look...and says something like "What father"?

Go ahead and try it.  Pick out a woman  you think  to is one of these  "tough women"  and ask about her father.  The women who are not "tough", who feel a little more comfortable in their woman-ness -- when you ask them about their fathers, they say, "Daddy"?  "I love my daddy". 

Now this brings up a whole slew of points to make -- many of which I am not qualified to make -- about the psychological impact an absent or critical father has on the self-identity of a girl as she is growing into a woman,  or about  if you are the father of a little girl, you had better listen up...

But the one point I can make is that this whole Daddy thing messes with a Christian woman's ability to  love the Father and to be loved by Him.

The other night, I was reading a passage from the Amplified Bible.  It was in John 16, verse 27.  Here Jesus was talking to his disciples about His Father as He was preparing them for his (Jesus') leaving.  I am paraphrasing somewhat: 

I won't need to plead to the Father on your behalf -- Jesus tells them-- you can do it -- Why?  Because the Father TENDERLY loves you.

This word "tenderly" doesn't show up in every translation ( I have checked several), but it showed up in the Amplified that night,  and it jumped out at me like words of a love letter from someone I didn't even think had noticed me.

The Father TENDERLY loves me!  Until that moment, I did not realize how hungry I was to be loved tenderly by my Father, or perhaps by my earthly (absent) father.  I guess I had reasoned that Jesus loved me (this I know!) and that the Father loved Jesus, so by association, the Father loved me.

I have been a student of the Bible for over 20 years.  I devour Scripture.  I loved to study, and memorize and apply Scripture.  But I have to say that until that instant, I did not accept the fact that the Father Himself loved me. 

You could argue that I haven't read well enough, or studied deeply enough -- or that I should have tried another translation earlier in my walk.  But I think I just wasn't ready until recently to accept that truth.  Too much baggage.  Too many barriers between me and my heavenly Father -- and some of them were not put there by me.  They came from generations of  fathers who didn't do a good job of assuring their daughters and sons that they would be there for the long haul, to protect, and defend, and to hold tenderly.

I have forgiven my father, and my father's father, and my mother's father -- but it still had an impact on me and my ability to be loved by my heavenly Father.

I have discovered that most tough women can love, but we cannot easily receive it.  We can protect and defend like wild cats; we can nurture and feed -- but to receive a tender love just busts you up inside.

What's in a name: More about Rahab

Hitchcock’s Bible Names says that Rahab has two meanings: one is “proud and quarrelsome”, and the other is “large”.  In Scripture, it is used as a symbolical name for Egypt, … symbolized as a ferocious sea-monster…”

Isaiah 30:7: For there is no use or purpose in the help of Egypt: so I have said about her, She is Rahab, who has come to an end.

Isa 51:9 Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of Jehovah; awake, as in the days of old, the generations of ancient times. Is it not thou that didst cut Rahab in pieces, that didst pierce the monster?

It makes me wonder: What were her parents thinking ???

Did they already have kids named Purity or Truth?

The other thing I wonder is:  did she fulfill their expectations?

Haven’t you met people who just fit their names? Grace. Melody. Holly. Buck.
Do you wonder if they became their names? What about names like “Missy”? Adolf? Paris? Are you setting your child up by the name you place on them at birth?  Are you destined to be who you are, or can you change?

The Bible says in the book of Proverbs 22:1 that “a good name is to be chosen rather than great riches".


People were always getting their names changed in the Bible to reflect a change in their lives: Abram became Abraham; Sarai became Sarah. Saul (the Jew) became Paul (the Roman). Simon was changed to Peter/Cephas – the rock.  Jesus the Carpenter became Jesus Christ (The Messiah).

What I like about Rahab is that she didn’t change her name, but she changed the way that people used her name.

In the Old Testament, “Rahab” meant one thing, but in the New Testament, Rahab is the name of honor and respect.

Here’s how she was remembered in Hebrew’s 11, along with a list of honorable others:

“ By faith Rahab the harlot perished not with them that were disobedient, having received the spies with peace…”

And the thing that amazes me is: her act was not so honorable. She was saving her own skin, her family and her property. She did not ask the spies to save her town, her friends, all the people she had grown up with – no, she said. Save me and my family! But she was bold, and she had the faith to ask. She didn’t cower or let her chance at salvation slip by:  She made a deal.

I really wish I knew more about what happened between that moment and the day she met Salmon, and gave birth to Boaz. I wish there was more information about her transformation, and when she really became a woman of faith.

I wish I knew about Salmon, too. What kind of a guy would marry a hooker? I think I would have liked him. What I do know was that his father, Aminadab, was an honorable, faithful man. He was chosen to lead Judah’s army under Moses. I am assuming, that Salmon followed in his father’s footsteps.

And one more thing:

Do you know what Salmon means? “peaceable; perfect; he that rewards”.

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Redemption for Tough Women like Rahab -- Can a Whore be Pure?

I like Rahab.  God does too. That lying prostitute got her name in the List of Names-- she was in the lineage of Jesus!  She was a smart woman.  She knew how to get what she needed, and she protected her family in the meantime.

I like women like that.  I like women who are strong and protective and devoted to the ones who matter to them.  I know plenty of women like that.   I am one of them myself.  Many of the women in my Bible study at the jail are that way.  Ironically, today our Bible study is going to be about purity.  Purity?  Who even talks about purity any more.

Look at Rahab:   Rahab was a prostitute.  That's not exactly pure.  She had a little house on the outskirts of town where she entertained traveling men who were looking for a little impurity.

I wonder though, how did she end up there?  I'll bet you know.  People don't just end up in places like that without someone helping them get there.  How can a young woman get so off track?  Obviously, purity wasn't a big priority in her family of origin.

Here are some possibilities:   She had some kind of defect that made her "unmarry-able", so she decided to use her wiles to  make some money for the family.  She was made impure by someone -- she was raped, in other words, by someone in her family or in the town.  She had been married, but her husband abandoned her -- leaving her no option -- in her mind -- but becoming a prostitute. Maybe her familiy was in dire straights -- no money or food, so she sold the only thing she had.  However she ended up "impure" by the standards of the day she lived in, she was the kind of woman who didn't just sit back and feel sorry for her situation.  She got up and did something about it.

When the big break came -- the day that  she met God's chosen people, who were scouting out her land so they could conquer it -- she saw her opportunity clearly.  Despite the impurity in her life, there was a window of wisdom -- Rahab could see the hand of God.  She did not hesitate to take advantage of the situation for the good of herself and the people and property in her house. 

She made a deal:  I'll get you out of your dilemma, but you do something for me.  When this whole thing comes down and you are destroying my town of Jericho -- which I know you will do -- don't forget about me and my people and my property.  I'll scratch your back if you scratch mine:  I'll save your life if you save mine.

Something in Rahab told her the truth:  these men represented something greater than herself, her family, her town, and she was going to hitch a ride on the greater thing, leaving behind the bitterness and self-pity another kind of woman might easily have been chained to.  These men were not there to take a bit of her, pay up, and leave.  These men brought something to her.  Something greater.  Something better.  Something more substantial.  Something more worthy.

This is the instant of Redemption for Rahab.  I wonder if those men had told her about God, or if she had heard it from someone else.  How did she know to go for it?  Was it good, tough-woman instinct?  Was it the voice of God?  Rahab was a risk taker, no doubt.  But this was a huge one.  If she were caught harboring these men, she along with everyone in her house would have been killed.  She took a chance.  Something told her to believe.

And what was the result?  They kept their part of the bargain.  She let down that blood-red scarf from her window as the city was being attacked by God's people.  Rahab, her mother, father, and brothers, along with her property were all protected.  Somewhere down the road, after they went off with the God-followers, she met a man named Salmon who apparently didn't see her as impure.  He saw her as marriage material.  He saw her as the mother of his son, Boaz, who married another tough woman named Ruth - - they gave birth to Obed, who gave birth to Jesse, who had a son named David....and on down the line...to Jesus -- the Savior of the world. 


 The people whom Christ has redeemed with his blood, as well as by his power, will obtain joyful deliverance from every enemy. He that designs such joy for us at last, will he not work such deliverance in the mean time, as our cases require? In this world of changes, it is a short step from joy to sorrow, but in that world, sorrow shall never come in view. (Matthew Henry)

The Power of Prayer

"I have never felt the Holy Spirit before I came in here," confessed one of the ladies in the Bible study. I was in my block and I actually felt Him there.
"Which block were you in?" I wanted to know.

"Four."
I was not surprised when she told me this. It was the very block I had asked for prayer a few weeks before. A group of intercessory pray-ers told me that they would pray for the women, and specifically for block four because that is where we had been having so many problems.

Some people believe that prayer is wishful thinking. We want it to be so, so it is. I had never told the inmates that I was asking for specific prayers for them. I had never mentioned a certain number block.

Some people think that prayer is a useless exercise. After all, the argument goes, why does God need us to pray. Doesn't He already know what's going to happen?

I have wondered that myself. Many "experts" of prayer have weighed in on the subject, and one of my favorites is E. M Bounds.

He says,
"Prayer is no little thing, no selfish and small matter. It does not concern the petty interests of one person. the littlest prayer broadens out by the will of God till it touches all words, conserves all interests, and enhances man's greatest wealth, and God's greatest good. God is so concerned that men pray that he has promised to answer prayer. He has not promised to do something general, if we pray, but He has promised to do the very thing for which we pray."

I don't know why we must pray, but we must pray. It is required of us, believers -- and it is a privelege and a delight.

I am thankful that there are people who pray for those in jail and those caught up in addictions.

Prayer for the Addicted

She is on the streets again and not taking my calls. How quickly from "I Surrender All" to "Where can I get another ...." -- fill in the blank with whatever the addiction requires to be satisfied: drink, hit, snort, sexual encounter, brawl, new purchase -- whatever it is that makes me feel whole and complete...

How those addictions control us; how they sap us from the energy that could be turned to better uses --
Inside jail, people are determined to stay in the word, stay on their knees, surrender their lives to Christ...but once they get a taste of the old drug on the outside, that resolve is weakened.

It just doesn't seem as important anymore when there are so many more, better ways to feel good.

In fact, following Christ often does not feel good. It exposes all the wounded parts that the alcohol and drugs have been good at disguising. It takes guts. It takes resolve. It takes grace and power and faith to be willing to subject yourself to the Holy Spirit scanner.

But oh, the result! The result of surrendering yourself to God is so sweet -- and that's the part that few get to...the peace, the joy, the abundance -- not material abundance, but the meaty substantial abundance of life that comes with oneness with the Vine. There is no drug that compares.

Who knows that? Every ex-addicted, Christ-follower I have talked to. Many of us have experienced a whole range of substances that took the place of God in our lives, and each one will attest to the fact that in this universe there is no drug of choice that supplants the delicious

experience of walking in unity with God.

Here is a prayer from one of those ex-addicts, who now ministers to the wounded of the streets., Pastor Marvin Pedigo:
Father in the name of Jesus I lift these people to you. Some in name and others that you know without naming. We thank you for sending your ministering angels into each and every one of the camps of these named and un-named people. Let them minister hope to the weary and tired souls. Let your Spirit become evident even in the midst of the darkness. Send them to us, Lord you are preparing us to be there for them. Let the deception of substances or whatever the addiction, be revealed as what it really is. Instill a hunger into the void that has been filled with less than the truth. Let the truth touch the void and remind all that there is only one that really will fit and stay in place if allowed. Thank you for protecting all that operate on the front lines in this ministry. Thank you for the finances that sustain us all. IN Jesus Name, AMEN

How's That Working for You?

"When am I going to stop being so hateful, judgemental, combative? When am I going to stop running into the old, dead me -- full of anger and competition?"

That's not the inmate talking, that's me.

That's the "born again, redeemed, perfect, renewed, crucified with Christ, living on the outside of the bars" ME talking.

Oh God! I know what Paul was talking about in Romans 7 -- the constant battle going on even now, when things should be calm and good and smooth and graceful.

I am still clunking around in my old flesh -- leather grinding leather -- taking on the world in a worldly way.

I go around snipping at people, noticing their mistakes, correcting their grammar, wondering why they don't lose weight, control themselves, talk more clearly, do the right things for the right reasons...


If it happens out here, with all my resources and peaceful surroundings -- how much more so for them -- both inside their cellblocks and when they get out on the streets?

They are bombarded with the clutter of past dramas, the wrong people, bad habits, expectations from the people who have known them all of their lives and don't want to see them change.

The only chance either of us has -- both them and me -- is to submit our clay to His Hands day by day. Don't beat yourself up too badly, recognize that you've made a mistake and continue. To do otherwise is to play into Satan's clever plan to keep us so focused on ourselves -for better or for worse -- that we forget the real goal of this life we are living.

Trying to Change

One of my "girls" got out last Friday. We met today and ate a meal together for the first time.
"I'm nervous," she said. "I'm not used to being out. "

I noticed that she had removed the black comb tooth that she had always worn in the hole in her eyebrow.
"I don't wear that in public. In jail it doesn't matter how crazy you look."

I imagined the stress of trying to start it all over again. The longer you're inside, the longer it takes to make it work on the outside. Even her legs are weak. "I climbed the stairs and could barely breathe," she told me.

Her kids are used to a certain routine, and she's not in it. "No one woke me up this morning. I guess they're used to doing things without me around here."

She threw away her cheap cellphone because she didn't want to look at the numbers in it. She didn't want to walk around because she didn't want to see old friends. It's hard to start new.

It's like cutting a board, and starting the groove, then realizing that you're a quarter of an inch off. You've got to start again, but the saw keeps wanting to fall back into the groove.

I know what's happening to her. It's happening to me, too. I am living in the Spirit these days, but every so often the flesh wants to pull me into old patterns of thinking.

She has desire, and she has a new love for Jesus. I'm willing to bet she's going to make it, but it won't be easy. She's going to have to rely on new resources and let the old ones fly. I am going to be there to help her. I believe in her. I see the woman she is in Christ, the one who is going to influence other broken, wandering women down the road. This is what we do.

She and I are growing in Christ. She's a baby. I'm a little further. We are both making discoveries about who we are, and who He wants us to be.

That's what discipleship is about. You learn; you teach. You learn; you teach.

As fast as we are filled, we must give it away. Or we'll explode with love.

This is Why People Dislike Christians, and I Don't Blame Them!

I picked up my friend from a local shelter for homeless men. We went to an Addictions Conquerors meeting (Christian 12 step) and then to a Christian function in town. It was a meeting of ministers, who were expressing a spirit of unity. After the service, a large room was set up for each mission to display their outreach materials. A table filled with cookies lined one side of the room.

After ten or fifteen minutes of visiting the tables, I found my friend near the door, eating a cookie and having some punch. He was standing away from the others, and I asked him to join me.
"I don't do crowds," he told me. But there was something more. After we spoke for a moment, he confided, "You know, I went over there and took a handful of cookies. Two of them fell on the floor, and I laughed and said, 'the ten second rule applies' and I picked them up. And this lady said if I hadn't been so greedy, they wouldn't have fallen."

I was stunned into silence. He went on.

"I had to go right before God and ask Him, 'God? Was I greedy or was I hungry?' I decided I was hungry."

He had a tear in his eye. "It hurt me," he admitted.

I was torn between going to the cookie table and smashing those snickerdoodles right into her face or falling on the floor in agony over the condition of this faithless flock we have become.

We both stood there, looking at one another. Both with tears. His shame; mine anger and compassion combined.

"But you know what?" he said, "This is a blessing in a way. I mean if I had been in the middle of my addiction I would have cussed her out..."

"You were the Christ-follower here," I told him.

"And another thing...I felt hurt!"

I looked at him, not understanding what he was saying.

"I mean, I FELT the hurt. You don't know how long it's been since I felt something like that. I've been hurt alot in my past...in my childhood...and I just stopped feeling. But now I can feel."

Our addictions cover our pain, keep us from pain, but in the end cause more pain. My friend is overcoming his addictions and is beginning to come to terms with all the pain bottled up in there...

We praised God together for using the unkindness of this "Christian" to bring a deeper understanding about how God is making changes.

Still, I am struck with the very picture of this lowly one, coming into fellowship with Christian bigwigs in the community, and being struck down. Had it not been for God's Holy Spirit keeping him clear-minded, it could have been just another sad story of relapse, at the careless words of someone who calls herself a "Christ follower",

And then I am struck with my own propensity for putting my mouth before my thoughts -- blurting out what I think before going through God's Holy Scanner. Note to self.

Behind These Walls, Poem by "Jon", an inmate

Behind these walls, a convict's word is seldom heard.
So please take a minute to feel my words.
These walls can be painful, and they can cause tears,
These walls take away loved ones, these walls take away years.

Behind these walls, 130 months just passed me by.
All because I had this need to get high.
In 1995 my son Mitchell stepped on the scene.
Now I look at him face to face at age fourteen.

Behind these walls you can lose parts of your mind
One day you'll flip, then one day you're fine.
One day family is great, then one day they're dying.

Behind these walls is such a difficult place,
The air seldom works, and the food has no taste.
The toilet won't flush, and you can smell the waste.

Behind these walls you're nothing but a numnber
When the doors slam shut, it sounds like thunder.
The vicious "clank" rattles your head
There is no pillow, and hard plastic for a bed.

Behind these walls, one man can go insane.
Let me be the one to explain, this isn't no game.
There is no way to get back the time that you lost
This is just no way to live; here, behind these walls

What do You Mean I'm Perfect?

It's hard enough when you're "doing well" to believe that you are Perfect in Christ, but imagine wrestling with that concept wearing a bright orange jumper, behind bars.

"Perfect?" they ask me. "What do you mean I'm perfect?" "You don't know what I've done."

No, I don't know what you've done, but I know what I've done, and God knows what I have done. He has seen every ugly thing. He has heard every damning word out of my mouth and floating around in my mind. And yet, He says I am perfect.

"How can we be perfect and still sin?"

I let the question linger in the air. "It can't be."
"But it is"
"Then Christ must have bad thoughts -- "
"No, that's not possible"

"So we must have...like two minds...living in the same body?
"Exactly."

We are Perfect in God's eyes as He looks at us as One with Him, through the blood of His Son who redeemed us through His sacrifice.

We are also flesh. Carnal. Wilted. At risk. Borderline. Unhealthy. Criminal. Selfish. Weak.

Which one do we strengthen? Which one do we feed?

"I'm afraid to leave here, " says one woman. " How will I have the strength I need on the outside?"

"We have only a few choices in here, " says another..."Do you eat the food or not? We don't have to decide if we go to the store, or take out, or cook what we've got, or warm leftovers. We don't have those choices in here. Choices is what makes things so difficult."

God's wisdom is pouring out of them.

"Habits. Choices. This is the background upon which our sanctification plays out," I tell them.

It's time to go. The guard turns the key in the door. We'll have to wait for next week to have the chance to talk this out again.

The Way We Talk

Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice and be kind to one another, tender hearted, forgiving each other, just as God, in Christ, forgave you.

We remind each other of these verses before we begin our meetings. In Ephesians, we get a whole great list of things to remember, in or out of jail, about how to talk with others.

"But we're in JAIL..." there's no way that this is going to happen.

Granted, it's a difficult situation. It's loud and full of emotion, some women are even sleeping on the floor. Funding is low and the place is inadequately staffed. It's dirty and crazy and full of profane language, but Paul and Silas sang in prison, and I told them they could too.

Yeah, what do you understand? I know that's what they want to say to me...

We begin to pray and the power of God's Spirit falls on us all. Prayers for children, prayers for lovers, family, grieving parents on the outside...and then the prayers of strength.

"Help me to stand up for You, Lord."
"Give me the words to say, Lord,"
"Put your armor on me, God."
"Enable me to do this for You..."

There is hope in their words. Suddenly they perceive what they are saying, and the prayers get bolder,

"I will stand for you, Lord,"
"No matter what it takes,"
"No matter what they do..."

To be persecuted for doing what is right -- for doing God's work in the jail -- that's what these men and women are up against.

Pray for them right now, right here with me. Every man and woman behind bars who has come to understand who You are, God. Enable them. Defend them. Protect them.

Amen.

A Group Like This

Does it seem sad to you that a woman would tell me that she would come back to jail just to have the close fellowship that she experiences in our small group? If she had been able to find such a group outside, maybe she wouldn't be incarcerated. God is doing wonderful work in her life. Changes are happening quickly, and she is yielding herself to God's changing power. She is being transformed by the renewing of her mind.

And some of the renewal is due to the group. We meet as regularly as we can -- barring lack of staff, or Christmas holiday interruptions. We welcome each other and remember the rules: Ephesians 4 and 5, don't speak unkindly to each other, don't war, lift each other up. Don't we have enough people trying to make us think we are not much more than garbage, unworthy of transformation? And we look at God's word -- go through a study -- and we pray for each other. And we are real with each other. It is possible to be real and kind, and we are all learning that. When the truth is spoken, it comes down on all who are present.

"I would come back in here if I could. I want a group like this on the outside."

And there is a group for her on the outside, but it won't be the same. Not everyone will understand, not everyone will experience the same things she is experiencing. She may imagine that they are judging her, and I pray that they will not. We accept lies about ourselves when they are on the tip of our own tongues.

So we remind each other of who we really are in Christ. You are God's child. He is a good God. He wants the best for you. You are His sister. He is the first born of many brothers and sisters.

I pray that she will allow herself to ministered to on the outside, and that she doesn't run to her addiction of choice the minute she gets out. Just one minute. Wait one minute and thank God for His mercy. And then thank Him again. And again. And again until all the NOWS merge into TODAY and ALL WEEK LONG and A YEAR FROM NOW.

Pray for those coming out of jail today that they will be able to maintain the decisions they made for Christ on the inside.