Sunday it rained. Of course, it rained. Because Saturday had been a gorgeous summer day. The perfect conditions for moving heavy furniture into a U-Haul truck.
I’ve known Darren since I joined University Bible Fellowship (UBF) in 2000. And I loved, loved his Venezuelan wife, Helen. Darren and Helen married 7 months after Adam and me, so we share the same anniversary year. She is a great homemaker, great cook, great wife. Everything I’m not! Meanwhile, she learned from me compassion and listening to her husband. Necessary life skills when married to an opinionated American and I was glad to help.
More wonderful is that we were pregnant with our first-borns together. Our journeys to becoming pregnant were 5-years of praying and hoping, so it was miraculous we became pregnant at the same time.
Our views on family, discipleship and the role of the church rang like a bell. I was encouraged to write a novel by Helen’s insistence. I was inspired when Darren spoke to the church leaders on behalf of families who aren’t able to serve ministry, but are still committed to UBF.
Our kids are 7-years-old now.
And Saturday they moved. Away from the city. Away from our home church.
I waited for June 22, 2019 to end. At the strike of midnight, I was certain I could move on with my life. Move on with my current struggles in homeschooling… In my marriage… In my home church… Alone, but without the fear of running into Helen at the grocery store and having to fake a smile.
June 23 arrived. And I felt worse. A lot worse.
I went to Park Community Church (South Rogers campus) as I have been doing for a couple of months now. Technically, I’m a member of UBF and participate during the week, but I haven’t been spiritually fed at UBF, so I’ve been attending Park on Sundays. I haven’t been disappointed. On the contrary, I’m thankful Park has adopted me while sojourning this dry and hot desert known as my life.
God showed up again on Sunday.
I came to Park in a weepy state. I couldn’t even sing along to the worship songs. I couldn’t pray either. I just needed the day the end.
Or so I thought.
We were studying Exodus. Pastor Phil Adams expounded on the final plague of Egypt. One thing struck me right away: Pharaoh hardened his own heart and God simply let him do it. I’ve been trying to harden my heart. Seriously. I tell people I’m building scar tissue on my heart, since healing doesn’t seem to be an option. I’m tired of getting hurt. Especially now, I seem to incur more wounds than I have time for any healing to be completed!
You know what? Scar tissue on the heart isn’t a good idea. Enough scar tissue and the heart can’t beat. And I’m a biologist. I should have known that.
But Sunday it hit me: “If you want a hardened heart, watch out! Because God will let you have it!”
Rather, I want a soft heart, a heart of flesh, a heart that beats. A healed heart, not a sealed heart.
But that’s the rub. To have a heart of flesh means I have to FEEL. Pain. Sorrow. Grief. Loss. And I’m trying to shove it away, move on, get over it. Trying not to be a sobbing mess at every pin-prick.
And then God said during service: “I will bless you.”
I started weeping.
The verse comes from Genesis 12, where God calls Abram and promises to make him great. This is also the passage I am reluctantly speaking on during a Bible School in July.
You know, it’s fine that God called Abram. Really. That’s very cool. I get it. And God fulfilled His promise. The thing is they want the title to be “You Will be a Blessing.” Not gonna happen. ‘Cuz I don’t believe God is promising that to me.
Because in my experience as a Christian, life hurts. Life isn’t fair. Healing is possible… but not promised. Material provision is nice… but not necessary.
God might be pouring out his blessing on you, and that’s fine and good, but He doesn’t do that for me. Oh, God answers my prayers all right. Mostly with a resounding, “No.”
So, when God said to me on Sunday, “I will bless you,” I lost it.
Blessed? Are you kidding me? THIS is being blessed?!
Where’s the job for my husband, God, so I don’t have to work overnight anymore? Where’s the glorious Sunday message at my home church, so I don’t have to seek out a different Sunday service? Why did Darren and Helen happily leave and now live an hour away, but want no contact with us? Huh? Where’s the blessing, God?
And God said again, “I will bless you.”
Then Pastor Phil said something that rocked my world.
Before Exodus 12, God had lifted the last several plagues from the Israelites to show Pharaoh and all of Egypt He would make a distinction. But the final plague, the Israelites wouldn’t be immune.
And on Sunday, Pastor Phil reminded us that the Israelites were the slaves. They are the victims. God was supposed to deliver His people from Egypt. So, why didn’t God plague only the Egyptians with death of the first-born? Why was it necessary to plague the Israelites also?
The answer was: So they would need the blood of the lamb.
So they would have a story, a celebration to remember annually, a tangible history to tell their children.
More importantly, so the Israelites would look forward to the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world.
And I got it.
I too am a victim. And I too need the blood of the Lamb.
And God wants me to have a soft heart.
Because the best blessing is to experience agonizing pain—slavery, betrayal, heartache—and be washed in the blood of the Lamb… and be set free!
Set free from sin. From Satan’s attacks. From the fear and loneliness of being a spiritual orphan (even while being part of a church) and to have the confidence that comes from being known by God.
Come close. See that raw flesh? Where it’s oozing and sensitive to the touch? That’s where the scar tissue was and is no longer. God stripped it away. Hear that? It’s the rhythm of Jesus’ grace, slain for the undeserving, sacrificed to offer eternal life.
I have a story to tell. And it comes from the heart. A broken, bleeding heart… but a heart that is soft. A heart that can beat. A conduit of the cleansing flow shed on the cross.
Like what you've read? I'm also on Facebook and Twitter!“I will make you into a great nation, and I will bless you; I will make your name great, and you will be a blessing.” Genesis 12:2
Cheryl,
Of all your writings, this my absolute favorite! This is the real Cheryl, the heart and soul of my beautiful daughter.
You are right, a hardened heart is so much safer and is more protective during life’s struggles. But the scarred heart does not feel the joy of your boys’ giggles, the passion of your faith or the glee during a hilarious chat with Ashley.
The tears and the exhilaration go hand in hand. I agree that your heart needs to be open to the aches if you want to feel God’s spirit. Please, always remain open to my love, forever.
Mom
Thank you for this blog post. I think reading this helped me to take a more objective look into your heart and mind, since I know that I can try to take a guy’s approach (aka…Is this my fault? What can i do to fix this?) and step back to see a bigger picture.
You are uniquely special (in writing and in passion) and want to do what is right and do something great for God. So, you give your heart so fully to whatever you believe! Yet, it leaves you vulnerable. I implore you to be Cheryl…and enjoy being washed in the blood of the Lamb!
Also, I want to make a comment about UBF messages vs Park messages. When reading what you wrote this came to my mind. It is up for debate. I think UBF messages are more missional-centered (as we know well) and take a stance that doing this will help us to overcome all these issues. They come from the idea that you are saved already and just need encouragement to do something for God. But Park messages come from the fact that we need God at any stage of life. There is something for the beginners and the veterans. Just a thought. But maybe that is what you already were trying to explain to me.
I love you and please keep sharing your heart! May God give me a soft heart as well!