Weirdo Series: A Harlot

Things have been quite interesting for me. I'm still trying to make sense of it. A whole city fell down around me!! I knew it was going to happen but that doesn't make the experience anymore incredible when it happens. *sigh* Let me start from the beginning.

I lived in Jericho. I had a good job. Well, I had to work most nights but I got paid well. I hated my job, it was very degrading. I won't really get into what I actually did for a living but let me put it this way: the women in the neighborhood would call their children to them when I walked by. I was a bit of an outcast.  Since what I did wasn't glamorous job, I lived in a questionable neighborhood on the city wall.

My job took me throughout the city and I interacted with some very influential people. I heard most of the news of what was going on in and out of Jericho. I heard about the Red Sea crying up so the Israelites could cross and escape the Egyptians. I also heard about how two kings of big kingdoms had been defeated. Wait. Not just defeated, completely destroyed. None of the gods my countrymen worshiped were half as mighty.

Or reliable.

I didn't know much about Him, but I was sure that this was a god that I wanted to know more about. And even better yet, to serve. What a mighty God indeed.

One day, as I was working in my garden, I saw two men walking down the alleyway. They obviously did not belong in our city and I knew the city guard would be coming soon. I brought them into my home and hid them upstairs under some piles of flax I had on the roof drying so I could make linen. Apparently, somebody else saw the men and saw them in my yard and told on me. The city guard paid me a visit telling me to bring the men out. I knew that denying it would just get me thrown in jail. Jericho jails were not known for their luxury. So I told them that, yes, the men came to my house but that they had left and had already gone out the city gates. I told the guard that if they hurried they might be able to catch them.

The timing was perfect. The guards left the city and started searching and as soon as they had left, the city gates were shut so they could not come back in until morning.

I knew that these men were here to scout out our city in preparation for battle. I also knew that they would win. So did everyone else in the city. Everyone in town was freaking out and started to just accept whatever defeat would be coming. My people are a proud people and it was weird to see them lose heart like that. Whatever God these Israelites worshiped was truly mighty.

Before they fell asleep, I went to talk to the men. I told them the attitude of the men of the city including how upset they were about everything they have heard. I also told them how I respected and revered the LORD. I asked them if they could spare my life and the lives of my family when they destroyed the city.

These men spoke plainly to me. They said that if I didn't tell anybody of their plan or presence that they would surely save me. They told me to gather my family at my house and that if any of them were not in my house, they would die. They told me to hang a scarlet rope out of my window so the Israelites would know to protect us.

I gave my word.

I also told them what I told the guards and then suggested that they leave the city and wait until the guards came back before returning to their tribes. I lowered them out of my window which was on the wall. They made it out safely.

I did exactly what I said I would do. I gathered my family and hung a red rope out my window. Then I saw an army just walking around our city. They weren't trying to raze the walls or knock down the gates. They just walked with trumpets blowing. They did this for 6 days and then on the 7th, they just kept walking. I saw them walk by my window 7 times. After the 7th time, I heard a man talking to the people. I'm not quite sure what he said but I swear I heard my name. Then all of a sudden they all starting shouting. 

It was so loud! But it was nothing compared to the sound of the walls falling. FALLING! Those walls were so strong. No army had every conquered those walls and now they were falling. Half of my house was gone!

But all of us were safe. Somehow, with all the rubble and the crashing and the horrible noises, we were all safe! What a might God indeed.

Eventually, the two men that I had hid came and took my family and myself out of the city. Nothing stood. Everything was destroyed. What a mighty God indeed!

After that day, I stayed with the Israelites until my dying day. They became my people and their God became my God. I met a man named Salmon who was the son of the tribal leader of Judah. We got married and had kids. I am actually the great-great grandmother to King David.

That's right! THE King David! Eventually, the Savior of mankind would come from my line. The line of a harlot. 

What a mighty God indeed.

Weirdo Series: Noah's Wife

Currently in our youth group at Grace Fellowship, they are doing a series called, "Making the Bible Come Alive." Various adults have been portraying different characters in the Bible such as Ruth, Naomi, Mary Magdalene, Michael (the angel), and Peter. I volunteered to portray a character and doing so prompted an idea for me to write a series of "monologues" from the perspective of an Outsider. Below is part 1 of the Weirdo Series.

weird•o

ˈwi(ə)rdō/

Noun informal

1. a person whose behavior seems strange or eccentric.

2. an Outsider

I know you guys had been starving for rain but that you’ve been getting some good rain recently. Just imagine something with me. Imagine if it had never rained. Ever. Yeah. You don’t think people could survive like that? Well, let me tell you something, I was there. It wasn’t until I was old with grown children of my own that I had ever seen rain. Here let me tell you how it happened:

My name is…well, my name isn’t important…but you might recognize my husband’s name, Noah. When my husband was born his father said, “This one will bring us relief from the agonizing labor of our hands, caused by the ground the LORD has cursed.” Can you even imagine such a prophecy? If I had known that Lamech, that was my father-in-law, had said that about Noah, I might not have married him. That’s a lot of responsibility that I may not have wanted to be a part of. Little did I know.

One day, my husband comes to me and says that God had spoken to him. He said that God told him that He was going to destroy every creature on the earth because of their wickedness. What?! I thought that Noah was a good man and that all that praying and singing and stuff was what God wanted. I started to have a bit of a panic attack.

Well, as I was breathing into a little leather sack, Noah told me that God also commanded him to build a big ol’ boat because He was going to save our family. To which I responded, “What’s a boat?” Then Noah said that it was going to rain. To which I responded, “What’s rain?” Then Noah said that God was going to use the rain to flood the earth. To which I responded, “What’s a flood?” Noah explained that God made a covenant with him that He would save our family and a bunch of animals and plants…and only us.

Well, I knew better than to argue with God but I got a little nervous when I thought about how this was going to look to the neighbors. When I said a big ‘ol boat, I wasn’t kidding. Imagine this room times 12, and then a little more! That’s how long the boat was. Now take this room times 3, that’s how wide the boat was. And, and it was 3 stories high!!! This was not just some project boat in the backyard or basement that could be easily hidden under a tarp. No, this massive thing was out there in the open for everyone to see!! And everyone did see.

It became difficult to go to the grocery store or the fabric store because people would whisper about me as I passed. The braver ones would ask me questions which I could not answer. And people would make fun of Noah and what he was doing. Since He loved the LORD, everyone already thought he was a weirdo anyway, but then he started building a boat. I told them that he was doing what God told him to do and prepare for the big flood. To which they responded, “What’s a flood?” They called him a fool and said that he was crazy. The worst was the women who would look at me as though they felt sorry for me for having a crazy husband. People started comparing him to the man on the corner of Lexington and Vine named Henson who would randomly shout things like, “Chickens only want to rule the world” and “Shoes make good earmuffs.”

You don’t believe me? Well, I was there!

It was so hard. I believed in Noah’s God and trusted that we were doing the right thing but it became so difficult to live my day-to-day life and still do as God asked. One day Henson yelled at me, “There goes the wife of the crazy man!”

Seriously?! Well, God told us what to do and we were gonna do it!

My three boys had an easier time of it but not by much. People looked at them and said horrible things about their father. It got to a point that we all just had to stop going to town. My sons helped their father and the girls (my daughters-in-law) and I started gathering plants. Suddenly, one day animals just started showing up. They would just come up to our home as if they were looking for something. When Noah and the boys finished the boat, the animals just walked inside and started making themselves at home. We gathered up all our stuff and the plants that we gathered and got on the boat. The door was so big and heavy that God, Himself, has to close it.  And He did.

Then the most amazing thing happened! Water! Water started falling from the sky!! Crazy, right? It started to rain so hard that the whole earth flooded and we on the boat were the only ones saved.

In the days leading up to the flood, people called us weirdoes. Crazy, even. But God had a plan. Being a weirdo, an outsider, is what saved our lives and thus saved all mankind. At first, I didn’t like being made fun of, or treated differently, or called a weirdo. Now, I wear the title with pride.

I’m Noah’s wife and I’m a weirdo.

It's a little hazy

One of my biggest issues with being a counselor is the constant feeling by those in my real life (as in not my job) that I know all the answers or that I’m the best person to talk to in any given difficult situation. I know my profession is not the only one that has a hinky boundary line in people’s heads. However, people don’t expect the cashier at the grocery store to be constantly adding up what items cost in their normal life nor do they expect the administrative assistant to organize their calendar and make phone calls for them. However, I am constantly asked for advice and expected to address anyone in crisis. It doesn't help that people “refer” their friends and loved ones to come talk to me. I imagine that conversation involves the phrase, “You should talk to Denise because she’s a counselor.”

Sitting in my office, I have a switch I turn on in my head. It is my Counselor Switch. When I leave said office, I turn that switch off. It’s very similar to the mechanic who washes their hands after a long day of fixing cars who then walks into their house and hugs and kisses his wife. He is no longer in the let’s-fix-this-car mode. He’s in the this-is-my-family mode.

I struggle because the way I talk to my clients is vastly different than the way I talk to my friends. When I have a friend struggling, I may not be the best person for them to talk to but at that point I am not a counselor. I am simply a friend. An ill-equipped friend at that.

Like I said, I know I’m not the only profession that deals with this hazy boundary. His Royal Nerdness, my husband, gets asked computer questions constantly. I’m sure my nurse practitioner friend gets asked medical questions all the time. Because of my own experience with boundary crossing, I refuse to ask my friend any medical questions. The aforementioned mechanic probably gets tons of friends and acquaintances asking him about car issues.

When I’m not at work or in a counseling room, and I have a friend or acquaintance that wants some counsel, I have to take a moment and turn my switch back on. It’s not as easy as just flipping a switch. Turning that switch on and leaving it on for a while takes energy just like any light fixture that you turn on. It’s draining.

I can only imagine how Jesus felt. If I, as a counselor, am worn out sometimes by the blurred boundaries, then it must stand to reason that The Messiah had to get a bit worn. However, The Messiah is not really a role that one switches on and off.

I still giggle at the idea of Jesus trying to get some sleep and the disciples keep coming up to Him asking Him to turn their water into something more fortifying. 

Living Word vs. Written Word

I’ve always been intrigued by the concept of the “Living Word of God.” I’ve also heard the Bible referred to as the “Written Word of God.” These are both titles that I have no contestation with. However, bells go off in my head directing my attention to John 1:1. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” My little footnote in my trusty Bible said that the title, The Word, was a title for Jesus as the communication and the revealer of God the Father.

Hold up. Isn’t that what we say the Bible is? Haven’t we heard since childhood Sunday School and V.B.S. that the Bible is God speaking to us about Himself?

So here is the big question that I find myself asking: What is “The Word” that is referred to in John 1:1, Jesus or the Bible?

What about both? What if Jesus as human and the written Word of God are two manifestations of the same thing? Both have been given the title of Word. Both have been given the description as the Living Word. This can’t be coincidence or, *gasp*, a mistake.

When I was discussing this concept with one of the smartest people I know, his response was, “Be careful, Denise. What you are describing sounds a lot like you are trying to make a 4^th member of the Trinity.” Let me see if I can put my thoughts into words.

We know that Jesus as a human was not all there was/is to Jesus. There is so much more from the creation of the world (see John 1:3) to reigning forever with the Father (see Revelation 11:15). If Jesus is so much more than we could ever imagine and if He had a hand in all of creation, why couldn’t a part of Him also be the message to all generations about Him and the Father, and the Holy Spirit, for that matter?

I would ask that anyone reading this would keep in mind that I am not concretely saying that Jesus is the Bible. I’m raising an interesting concept that could change the way we look and incorporate the Bible into our daily lives. If (and that’s a BIG if) a part of Jesus is the Bible, then how would that change your relationship to the pink Precious Moments book that you were given as a kid, or the leather-bound book with your name engraved on the front, or the free paperback New Testament that you were given when you went to a fair, or the book put in your hotel nightstand by the Gideons? Would it become more than just a book, would it truly be a living volume for you to live by? Would you start looking at your Bible as a friend to spend time with and to defend and stand up for?

The concept of a living, breathing Word of God is a precious one to me. It helps me to understand that reading the Bible is not just a one-way conversation with some dusty old men from way back. Nor is it a one-way conversation with the Father. Reading the Word is a full conversation in every sense and provides us with the opportunity to listen and talk back to all parts of God.

It is a true interaction with the living God.

No Regrets! *thumbs down, raspberry noise*

Yeah, I bet you regret not paying attention during spelling in school.

I do not subscribe to the notion of Living Life with No Regrets. Quite frankly, I think it is an extremely immature way to think. The definition of regret is this: a situation in which an individual had control over and wishes that they had done something different. 

If someone is saying that they have no regrets, then there a couple of possible things happening here:

1. That person is a narcissist jerk face who thinks that their mistakes don’t make a significant impact one way or the other.
2. That person is delusional.
3. That person has simply given in to the popular belief that mediocrity is ok.
4. That person does not want to take responsibility for their actions that led to negative consequences.
5. That person wants to limit the amount of negative consequences by pretending it’s no big deal.
6. That person is a liar.

As a chemical dependency counselor, I’m well acquainted with the concept of acceptance. Acceptance isn’t about pretending that everything is all lollipops and rainbows. Acceptance is about understanding that there are things you cannot change and not letting that get in the way of your own personal joy. Acceptance has nothing, I repeat, nothing to do with “No Regrets.”

I have heard such ignorant statements like, “I have no regrets. Every mistake I’ve made has made me the person I am today.”

Now let me say this: I believe that I’m a pretty fantastic person. I have a good sense of humor, a good moral compass, and I am adorable (despite the excess amount of me). I’ve made a lot of mistakes and a lot of bad decisions.

A lot.

Yes, I wish I had done those things differently. I’m pretty awesome, but if I had made better decisions I wouldn't be the same person I am today. I’d be better!!

Why is it so hard for people to admit that they wish they had done things differently? Wishing you had done things differently does not mean that you cannot be content with where you are in your life. They are completely independent events.

Come on, people! If you can admit your regrets (because even if you claim you have none, you do), then you actually have a chance of moving past them to making better decisions in the future.

Here we go again

I'm writing this on my phone while in the car ahead of me is my brother and sister as we are headed to the airport.

They leave to return to Hong Kong this morning. They are about to start on phase two of their mission in the new place they call home. 

That last part was hard to write. Darin has written a couple of blogs about how Texas is not his home anymore. That's hard for me because if I consider Hong Kong their home, then that means the only time I'll see him and Lexus is on short visits. I like to think there's an option of living close together again. I like to imagine that one day we will serve The Lord together like we used to. What my brother doesn't understand, because it's not the same for him, is that things are harder when he's not around. I'm a better worship leader and all around musician when he's there with me. 

One year ago, as we were heading to the airport I had it together. I didn't cry because I had prepared myself. Somehow, this time is harder. I guess it snuck up on me and I'm a wreck. I'm trying to get it all out in the truck so I won't cry at the airport where Darin will surely make fun of me and Lexus will cry too adding to the vicious cry cycle. 

It's proving more difficult than I thought. 

We had some great times while they were here and I'll post about those later. This post, however, is my emotional outlet one. Hopefully Darin and Lexus won't read it and if they do, it'll be after we say goodbye. 

No promises

So, I haven't blogged in a super long time. Sorry. The three of you who read this, I know, must be terribly disappointed. I just haven't had much to blog about. I've had some ups and downs and I've mostly been dealing with those instead of blogging about them. However, blogging has been a therapeutic tool for me in the past so it does seem ridiculous that I haven't been. Sorry, I ramble.

I guess I can start at the beginning of the year and go from there:

Surgery

On January 9th I had some surgery. No big deal. It wasn't a life threatening thing except that the reason I was getting it was to help me breathe. So, about 6 months ago I had gone to get my wisdom teeth out. Unfortunately when they gave me the sleepy juice, I stopped breathing. 

No biggie. 

They stopped the extraction and the oral surgeon told me that my tonsils were so huge that I needed to see about getting them out because they would be huge contributing factor to my sleep apnea. If I didn't then I was going to have to get my wisdom teeth out in a hospital under anesthesia. 

Awesome.

So I went to a recommended ENT and he basically told me that my tonsils weren't really a problem that is was just because I was fat. Such lovely words to hear. So I called the oral surgeon back and left a message with his nurse about what the ENT had said. That surgeon called me himself at 7:00 at night to tell me to get a second opinion. He remembered me specifically because in his entire career he has only had to stop surgery about 3 times for tonsils.

And I overachieve yet again.

So I went to a new ENT and he said that sure being overweight can effect it but that sleep apnea is on the rise most in medium sized women (I am most definitely NOT medium sized). He told me that there was more to it than just my tonsils. Apparently my right nostril was completely blocked due to a deviated septum. I never really noticed, well, I did after he said that! He also said that my throat was never narrow and that I had a small mouth (just so you know, this is the second doctor I have had tell me that I have a small mouth. I even got it in writing this time).

So, here's the list of things I had done, by two different doctors on January 9th:

3 wisdom teeth extractions (should have been four but my big tongue got in the way)

tonsillectomy

septoplasty

uvulopalatopharyngoplasty

Yay me!

Two weeks after my surgery I got an upper respiratory infection. Yeah, you try hacking up a bunch of stuff when you've just had throat surgery.

I have a sleep study coming up to tell me how my sleep apnea is now that I have a bigger airway.

Blood Clot

Now this story is stupid. I had a painful knot on my leg. I went to the doctor and he gave me a bunch of antibiotics in case it was staph. He also said that if it gets worse to come back because it could be a blood clot.

It got worse.

I went back and the doctor said that I needed to go to the ER right away and that he even recommended that I get a ride in an ambulance from the office. I refused and my husband drove me.

ER personnel saw that I had a blood clot in a superficial vein that told me that I MUST go see a vascular surgeon the very next day to get the clot removed. They also gave me morphine for pain. Me no likey.

So I went the next day to a vascular surgeon and he said that it was no big deal. He said to keep it elevated for a few days with a heating pad on it. 

It got better.

Loss

My buddy Nathan passed away on February 25th. I hadn't spent a whole lot of time with Nathan while he was alive but enough to be crushed by his passing. Of course my emotions paled in comparison to his family's. Nathan is my best friend's brother. My favorite moment with Nathan happened the first time I met him. I was hanging out with Carr!e, Nathan, and their parents. Carol (mom) was showing off her archery skills. I tried but I couldn't even pull the bow all the way back. Carr!e was taking pictures, like ya do. I went to go sit by Nathan on the bench. He was digging watching nature and his family playing. Of course, it's not like they sat him on the bench and then ignored him. No, he was very much a part of the proceedings. I was chatting with him and then he began to stare at me very intently. Then he reached out and grabbed my face. At that exact moment, Carr!e had turned to take a candid picture of us on the bench. She captured that moment with Nathan grabbing my face and me laughing in surprise.

I got to spend some more times with Nathan when Carr!e and I would be visiting her parents and Nathan would be as well. He seemed to like me (unlike his feelings for Jeremy) and like him, too. 

Family

I miss my brother. I miss my sister. It's been almost a year since I've seen them and that seems unreal to me. I am so proud of what they are doing in Hong Kong but my pride is tempered by my jealousy. What they are doing is something I have always wanted to do. But God does not have the calling for me right now. I need to bloom where I am planted and wait for when/if God wants me to move.

But that's not the hardest part of this. The hardest part is being so happy for them but wanting so badly for them to be home. But here is not home anymore.

Ok, I gotta move on because it isn't socially acceptable to be crying at work.

Future

I don't know, yet. We'll just have to see.

In Conclusion

I will be making no promises to do better at this blogging thing. I can just say that I will try. Even when all I'm writing about is nonsense, it is still very therapeutic for me. Sorry if this one just seems a bit whiny. I'm in an emotional phase right now. 

It'll pass.

Soon.

I hope.