never been here before

Deception in any form kills intimacy . (pg 103) If you’ve been lurking around here at all in the last 18 months or so, you’ve probably realized that I’m working on living an authentic life. A lot. I don’t think that’s meant that I was living in deception before, but that I am working to tear down walls that have built up over the years as a result of being hurt, being deceived by the world’s wisdom that we must protect ourselves so we don’t get hurt. While I suppose a measure of my last comment is true, that we must protect ourselves, I also believe protecting ourselves can turn into a form of manipulation and deception. This is what I’m working on. And I’ll be honest, I feel like I’m screwing it up. Because it shouldn’t hurt this much, should it? People shouldn’t have this much power to hurt each other, should they? But they do. And one of the many ways we do this to each other is identified in chapter nine as five categories of manipulators: The Scorekeeper The J

I’ve never been a great multi-tasker. When I am deep in a project, like today when my head is completely immersed in James 5:7-9, the phone rings and it’s some salesman from a publishing company wanting my business, I get a little irritated. I’d prefer to just hole up, ignore the world, and finish my single task, thank you very much. My, my. How very selfish of me. The funny thing is, of all the behaviors that makes me most sick to my stomach, it’s selfishness. But of course, the nausea only comes when I see it in others. When I’m being selfish, it’s justified. I’m right and they are just plain wrong. Do it my way , I demand. I’m the one who’s hurting , I martyr. (Is that a verb? Nope? Too bad. I’m making it one.)   I’m the one who needs , I whine. I’m the one struggling and try to figure things out , I lament. I’m the one who needs you to be this, do this, handle this, right now . I was thinking about all my selfishness tonight (after pretty much thinking abou

Do you ever get tired of trying? I do. I get tired of trying to be more than I actually am. Tired of being the one who presses. Tired of being the one who is desperate. Tired of being the one who is always drowning, asking for help (But no one can hear her.) Tired of the hustle. Tired of caring about those who don’t care back. Just…tired. Chapters 7 and 8 really made me understand this. The people we chose to love can destroy us, because true intimacy can only happen when we give up control and allow someone to destroy us, forgive them when they do, and hope they forgive you when you need to be forgiven. I seem to be good at choosing and loving those who make me try. A lot. And how much do I make people try for me? (I really don’t want to pull at that thread.) As Christ-followers, we can mistake enablement for grace, and Don tells us that our hearts are worth protecting. How do we balance this with grace? These are truths I’ve known for a while, f

I’m just gonna be straightforward: I hate chapter 5. I hate it because it’s about change. And fear. I’m going through a lot of change in my life right now. Most of the relationships in my life have changed recently. My job is changing significantly. My job has always been a bit chaotic, and so I relied on my relationships to get me through. To be the steady part of my life…  the ease that I needed in the midst of a lot of unrest. And most of these relationships have shifted significantly or are simply gone. So the change in my life has been magnified by being alone with it all. Never have I felt so lonely. And never have I felt so scared. “What else keeps us from living a better story than fear?” Don asks. (pg. 41) Not all of chapter 5 is about fear. There is more stuff in the chapter that is painful, like his realization that our flaws are the way in which we receive grace. And that perfectionists think the world will only love them when they are perfect. But then

We all have a façade. Maybe because everyone does, it makes having this façade seem more acceptable in our minds. But the more I think about it, the angrier I get.  I don’t want the façade a person puts in front of me, and I really don’t want the façade of someone I’m close to and love dearly. I want them . I think this should profoundly shape how we understand love. About 10 years ago, I was emailing back and forth with someone who’d given me some really good advice on a message board (anyone remember those? It seemed that’s all the internet was back then.) We continued conversing over the course of several months, sharing struggles and life with each other. And he told me a story that I’ve never forgotten. One day he was sitting on the kitchen table with his mom and he asked her why she loved his dad. She went on to list all of his wonderful qualities, the things he did that made her happy, made her smile. “He’s a great dad…. He cares for others so much… he make