If you’ve ever woken in the night only to have every thing you’ve left undone or done poorly or done selfishly line up like pointing fingers across your eyelids then you know the power of shame.
If you, like me, have buried a child, you know the long hours between when you hear the news and can once again touch the earthly shell of your loved one drag on and are fertile ground for what ifs, should haves and could haves.
Shame is a powerful emotion. It declares me unworthy of love, affection and even consideration.
I remember vividly the first time I read through the passage in Exodus 12 describing God’s instructions to the Israelites for the initial Passover.
The Lord impressed on my spirit that while the blood was necessary (sacrifice had to be made) it was obedience of each person to place themselves under that blood that saved them from the death angel.
They were spared because they believed and acted according to that belief, trusting God to do what He said He would do.
It’s the same with the blood of Christ-He is the sufficient Sacrifice and the full payment for sin.
Every one of us has fault lines buried deep within our character. Often it takes life-altering and worldview shattering events to reveal them.
That’s what happened to Peter.
After proclaiming his loving loyalty even to death, Peter went from defending Jesus (cutting off the servant’s ear in the Garden) to denying Him (three times before the rooster crowed).
Peter wept because Peter loved. Peter’s illusion was not that he loved Jesus. Peter’s illusion was that he loved Jesus more than he loved his own life.
Alicia Britt Chole
Earthquakes are scary but they reveal underlying and undetected weak areas in buildings.
Emotional earthquakes are just as frightening because they reveal underlying, undetected and unacknowledged weak spots in my heart, character and relationship with Jesus and others.
None of this is news to God. He already knows.
Then the question becomes: What am I going to do with this newfound knowledge? How am I going to release my will to the will of the Father? Can I choose to be pliable under the Potter’s skillful hand?
Peter could not see his fault line. But Jesus did. In the same way, we do not fully know our hearts. But Jesus does. Today, fast self-confidence and rest deeply in Jesus’ promise that the Holy Spirit will ‘guide you into all the truth’ (John 16:13)
Alicia Britt Chole
Am I truly trusting in Christ alone?
**As promised, I am sharing thoughts on 40 DAYS OF DECREASE (a Lenten journal/devotional). If you choose to get and use the book yourself, I’ll be a day behind in sharing so as not to influence anyone else’s experience.**
It will soon be seven years since Dominic stepped into Heaven.
It’s really hard to write that and harder still to live it.
In those years I’ve spent a great deal of time dragging out what I thought I knew about God, about how He works in the world, about how we take Scripture and wrap it around preconceived notions to make us feel safer and more in control.
I’ve had bad days and better days. Days of doubt and days of faith.
But every day I’ve felt assured of this truth: Even when my grip on Jesus is slipping, He holds me fast.
❤
I’ve mentioned it before.
I’ve encouraged others not to resist.
But I want to be absolutely clear: Losing my son made me doubt EVERYTHING.
It’s tempting to line up our friends and acquaintances in columns under headings of “perfect family”, “good christian”, “struggling addict” or “hopeless case”.
When I label someone I justify my response-good or bad-and let myself off the hook for sharing the extravagant, unrestrained love God has shown to me.
The longer I live, the more people I meet, the more certain I am that the neat little categories we like to use are not very helpful.
If I decide they are “doing well” then they don’t need my help.
And if I decide they are “beyond hope” then why waste my time or effort?
Either way, I’m wrong.
Christmas is the story of God come down-Emmanuel-of Love reaching down into a dark and lonely world. It was hardly tidy, it was a Messy Christmas
I try hard not to imply that MY child loss experience is representative of EVERY child loss experience.
Because, as we all know, every parent’s journey (even parents of the same child) is utterly, incontrovertibly unique.
My son was killed suddenly in an accident. Other parents I know have stories of prolonged illness. Some feared it coming as his or her child struggled with addiction and dangerous choices. And still others bear the added burden of suicide in child loss.
I have always, always felt a special duty to tread lightly with respect to those parents in particular. I want to honor them and never suggest I speak for them. I’ve started and discarded at least a dozen posts on child loss and suicide.
So when a mom who lost a child to suicide shared this in one of our closed groups, I messaged her and asked permission to publish her comment here.
So here are HER words, precisely as she shared them:
thelifeididntchoose 