Month: April 2026

Feeling Stingy

Friends, Romans, Countrymen! I am the proud owner of a new Chromebook! My children managed to break my last one and I have been computerless for a couple months. I borrowed my husband’s ipad a couple times, typed on my phone a couple times, but neither of those options is conducive to good writing flow. I’m so excited. It’s like getting a whole pile of new school supplies. You just feel like you should sit down and create something. 

Life has been roaring along. I’ve been going through a processing stage the last couple months. Looking closer, digging deeper, thinking long and hard. 

My daughter Ruth wrote some thoughts on her social media today that really lined up with an area I’ve been struggling with. Here are some conclusions I’ve come to. 

If I am being really really honest with myself, I don’t want God to extend the same level of mercy to others, especially others that I have problems with, as he does to me. 

For myself, I want God to have pity on me. Be understanding. Yes, you act this way because of these things that happened in your past, and it’s hard for you, and I’m just going to meet you where you are at and forgive you and help you to grow. And when you get to heaven, all the pain will be forgotten and you will step into paradise. 

Sounds good, right? 

But then I think about people that I don’t agree with. People that I think are approaching life wrong. People who have hurt me. People who are maybe promoting thoughts and ideas that I think are harmful. And if I’m really really honest, what I want is for God to confront them face-to-face and show them just how wrong they are. Maybe even rub their nose in it a bit. And then, he can forgive them, grudgingly, and they can take a lower role in heaven and just be grateful they made it, after making all those heinous mistakes. 

It’s taken a lot of deep digging to uncover this unpleasant truth about myself. And I am horrified that I am harboring these sentiments. And I want to change. I am desperately aware of how much grace and forgiveness that I need. And I thought that I was willing for everyone else to have access to that mercy as well. And, as long as I keep it fluffy and distant, I can wish that for everyone in the whole wide world. But, you start naming names, of people that really annoy you, people who have offended you, people who you vehemently disagree with, and suddenly, it’s a lot harder to feel that fluffy I-want-everyone-to-go-to-heaven feeling. Surely, some strong judgement is called for on occasion? 

A couple verses are coming to my mind right now. 

Matthew 6:14-15 (NIV): “For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.”

And, 

Mark 12: 29-31  “The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.  The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself. There is no commandment greater than these.”

I can’t help thinking that loving your neighbor as yourself means that you want the same amount of grace and forgiveness poured out on them as you want for yourself. 

Now, I have realized this about myself, but that doesn’t mean I wish to stay here. It also doesn’t mean I can just see the problem and then wish it gone. I need heart change. It’s not something I can make happen on my own. But, I know that God can make this change in me.

I’ve been stuck in the book of John for months now. My favorite chapters are fourteen through seventeen. And one of the big themes in those chapters is about Remaining in Jesus. He is the Vine, we are the branches. Remain in him and he remains in us. And how do we remain in him? By loving the people around us. And we are given the Holy Spirit to help us in this endeavor. 

Today, I was thinking about “How do I get there from here?”  How do I heal? How do I have wholeness?  And how do I get to a place where I truly want the same amount of mercy for my fellow man that I want for myself? How do I truly love my neighbor as myself? What came to my mind was a picture of me leaning into worship and leaning into being in God’s presence. Focusing on Jesus and giving him thanks for all things and keeping my face turned towards him. The more time we spend with him, the more we can become like him. And so I ask Jesus to change my heart, let me understand his love on a deeper level so that I can love others on a deeper level. And truly want everything good for them. 

Scars on my Skin

I wish sometimes that I had scars upon my skin. Jagged rough lines, now long-healed. There, present, but no longer dripping blood.

I wish, sometimes, that I had scars upon my skin. It would be comforting to look at this discolored spot, and realize the wound is no longer open. New skin has come in to make things whole again.

The scars would be a conversational piece. Oh, what happened to you? And maybe I would have heard that question so often that I would have an answer already memorized. Something pat, say what happened with bare bones details. Maybe, if I wished to talk about it, I could leave the answer open ended, friendly, an invitation for follow-up questions. Or if I didn’t want to talk about it, I could just say so politely, but firmly.

I don’t have scars on my skin. My skin is whole, sound, unmarred except for the wrinkles and occasional sunspots. Instead my scars exist down in my soul, across my mind and emotions. Unseen except perhaps in the way I shy away from certain situations or certain types of people. Unseen except in the way depression haunts my steps. Unseen except in the way my brain drifts away when my body senses danger and I am no longer present in the moment. Unseen except in the way I jump up and abruptly leave the room when certain subjects arise.

No one asks about these things. What happened? No one asks and I have never come up with a bare bones answer or even a more friendly one that leaves room for questions.

And I can not see the healed wound to know that things are better now. What if the wound is still open, still dripping blood? I can’t see it and I wonder, what kind of damage has it left? Is it getting any better?

And I struggle with my mental health and I feel ashamed that I have never overcome the depression, or the scatteredness, or the numbing overwhelming feeling that paralyzes me in my chair.

And sometimes I just wish the scars were on my skin where I could see them, and know that they have healed. Look right there, new skin, no blood. Everything is better now.