Easter Reflections

It doesn't get any better than this folks!  

A friend asked a group I was in Why God loves us?  Man, it hit me hard.  What answer shall I give? I have nothing worth giving Him, I haven't done anything great, and really why should he love me?  I sat there speechless which is not like me at all.  I love the Word and can usually conjure up an answer when in a group like the one I was in... and no doubt had answered that very question before, but this time was different.

I tried my best to observe Lent this year.  Not to be strict or put a notch on my belt, but to try and discipline myself to daily think about what Christ has done for us.  To be honest there were days I didn't do my reading and there were days I probably didn't think about His sacrifice, but all in all I felt like my heart was more prepared for Easter this year than in recent years past.  

So many ideas have come to me, a blog for another time.  This idea, even though not a new one, really knocked me off my feet.  Why does God love us?  Why?  I mean I had the passing thought, maybe He doesn't.  I felt overwhelmed and then I remembered... He chose us.  He chose to love us.  While we were yet sinners He loved us.  He is love.  It is an overwhelming idea.  

I don't know if you have experienced deep hurt from feeling unloved, abandoned or rejected. I must say that in hindsight I've had it really good, but I have been wounded also.  Most likely not intentionally.  Some of those wounds were self-inflicted when I was young, but the more recent wounds came from those I call brother and sister.  I'm speaking of fellow believers.  

I would say I typically love well.  I don't set many boundaries in relationships and try to be understanding and give grace often.  I really do like people.  I like all sorts of people.  I'm a bit escentric about some things and don't always follow the party line, but in general I'm a conservative Jesus loving girl.  I used to think everyone was mostly open to others.  Of course you don't click with everyone, but you are always kind.  In situations where someone needs you you do what you can do.  In my experiences I have often become very fond of people that I didn't care much for on the first and second meeting, whether they rubbed me the wrong way or were annoying or I thought they were just plain dull. In the end, when I spent time with those people, invested in them per se, I found that I grew to truly love them.  It was no longer an obligatory relationship but a genuine friendship.  A true gift!

Back to wounds.  I came to China high on maternal hormones.  It wasn't my first rodeo and I thought I knew how to stay on the bull.  My previous excursion to the Orient had been as a single English teacher.  This go, I was toting a 6 month old and everything was different.  Now that high was good and bad.  I was in love with that baby!  I protected her fiercely!  But I also rode the waves of postpartum mania.  Even still I was surrounded by some wonderful people.  The Lord knew I needed them and boy are they still so special to me 11 years later.  It wasn't long though until those people moved on to other places and we found ourselves alone in a city of 4 million people.  Of course we had local friends and we were busy, but those people who knew where we'd come from and shared similar values were gone.  We stayed alone for a year.  That was easier than what followed. 


--> New people came, but it wasn't long until the judgement began.  That's what I felt anyway.  I cannot judge another man's heart any better than they can judge mine, but no matter how hard I tried to be in relationship it just didn't seem to work.  There were always hurt feelings and I could not understand for the life of me why.  That ended and I was wounded.  For the first time in my life I felt like someone didn't like me.  Didn't love me.  Didn't allow me to be myself.  
Now, here is the irony.  I became the needy one.  I became that person who needed someone to just be my friend.  Even if they didn't like me.  I suppose I became annoying.  I was depressed and hurt and between all that still having babies and riding the waves of hormone overload.  

Fast forward several years.  We finally got some good teammates but I was already bitter.  I turned my wrath on my host culture and hated everything that was wrong with it.  I somehow, by God's grace alone, still loved the people and was able to share, but not from joy - only from hope.   I really felt numb and trapped so much of the time.  Numb from loneliness and trapped because I couldn't leave my calling even though I really was beginning to hate it.  

As usual, Dad swooped down and changed our circumstances at the perfect time.  We moved into a new community with lots and lots of folks.  I was amazed and shocked.  In shock is more like it.  Overwhelmed by the incredible differences I was experiencing.  My children had peers and I had peers.  Unfortunately, my wounds were still sore.  I was nursing a baby and of course sleepless nights and stress and hormones dictated many of my feelings.  But everything seemed great.   A hoard of people came to help us move in and we had instant friends in our neighborhood.  We were grafted into an existing house meeting on Sundays and the homeschooling community was unlike any I've ever known in the States or elsewhere.  It was paradise.  Oh, but my wounds.  Wow.  I didn't see it coming.  I thought everything would be perfect.  But then our girl had some kind of preteen scwabble with another kid and she was miserable that he didn't like her.  That carried over to Sundays and what had been the most likely people to share our joys and struggles just became collegues, acquaintences and neighbors.  Very good ones no doubt, but less than we'd hoped for.  That's ok.  There seemed to be many expectations from some and none from others.  It was confusing trying to navigate the intricate web of expats.  Some were collegues and others co-laborers.  Most were super nice, but we weren't super close to any of them and what was worse was that we were in a new city and had no local friends.  Foreigners were a dime a dozen so no one cared that a blond haired, blue eyed baby lived upstairs or shopped in their market.  Trying to homeschool and keep up with a preschooler and baby/toddler was all I could do... you know that stage of life where you just breathe and eat and take a bath when you have to... that's where I was but I was also trying to do many other things because I hadn't been able to for so so long.  

It was like trying to water a houseplant with a firehose.  I just drowned in activity and didn't gain much.  I slowly began to find myself.  I adjusted to my new normal.  I took a few steps back.  I let several people off the hook who didn't know what to do with me.  I finally weaned the baby.  I got some couselling for my daughter who was struggling to know how to be in relationships at all since she had basically never had a real friend for more than a couple weeks at a time and only then when we'd travel to conferences or go to the States.  That woman was a God send too.  She helped us all.  We slowly began to lower our stress and our expectations.   I started making local friends and well, here I am.  Maybe not completely on the other side of it all.  I still have some healing to do.  I still feel the pain of rejection when a boundary goes up, a request for help is denied or an invitation is rejected.  I know not all of those instances are really rejection.  Some are just legitimately busy people trying their best to stay on top of their own game.  They are not responsible for my wounds nor are they trying to inflict new ones.  

Sometimes I wonder what happened to me?  Where did that fun loving girl with that big smile go?  Who is this person who has self doubt and thinks no one really truly cherishes her friendship?  This is God's will for me life.  Not that I be wounded necessarily, but that I may be broken of my reliance on everything and everyone except Him.  Why does He love me?  Because I am His.  He cherishes me.  Because He chose to.  I didn't have to seek Him out or say the right thing or be cool or fit in.  He just loves me for me.... with all the scars and open wounds and ridiculous notions and imperfections. Just because...

Yes, I love Easter.  I love being loved.  Don't we all.  How amazing that the creator of the universe loves us.  He loves me.  He loves me so much that He sent His most precious one, the one he loved fiercely, to die that I may live.  So that I could have relationship with God and be saved from the coming wrath.  Wow!  Yeah, none of that other stuff really matters in the light of TRUTH.  How thankful I am I get to live and breathe and shout His name.  Praise be to our God.  He is Risen!

(Anyone represented in this blog is free and clear and forgiven for any wrong-doing or perceived wrong doing.  It will be all for His glory!)