Hidden Scars

“As Christ does for you, help carry each other’s burdens and troubles." ~ Galatians 6:2

Every year, when winter starts to drag and they wanted to more activity than simply walking to and from classes, Tim and some friends burned a little energy by cheering on their high school basketball team.  Screaming and cheering was good for a few calories they reasoned.

When the Warrior’s captain swished a 3-pointer to take an improbable lead, a younger girl in front of them jumped to her feet.  She threw her hands skyward.  Faded scars ran down the length of one arm; small cuts veered across the large vein on her hand.  She quickly jerked down her sleeve.

While self-injury can be a squeamish topic, Tim knew it was an important one.  He had no training, no experience, no morbid curiosity - just a caring heart and grace-fueled courage.  He waited until they were leaving the gym after a disappointing overtime loss and approached the girl.

"How long have you been cutting?" he asked quietly.

She gazed into his soul, liquid eyes seeking acceptance or at least some refuge of understanding.

She motioned toward a more secluded area and slowly raised her sleeve.  It revealed the map of emotional pain.  "I've never told anyone before," she said.  "I'm only talking to you because you didn't freak out.

Tim learned over burgers and cokes, that Ally was a ‘cutter.’  Publicly she had everything together.  But inwardly she was a boiling cauldron of stress, family dysfunction and unresolved agony that had erupted into self-mutilation.  He listened empathically without interrupting.

“At first it was just safety pins,” Ally revealed.  “But like other addictions, the cuts needed to be sharper and deeper to obtain the same level of relief.”

In the beginning, the external scars were a visual catharsis that represented the internal wounding her family had inflicted.  But now Ally suffered at the point of utter desperation.

Eventually the two became friends.  Tim helped Ally find a Christian counselor skilled at unlocking the root of her struggles and helping her deal with stress in a healthy way.

Ally’s not alone.  In fact, Teen Vogue recently called cutting “the new anorexia.”  Chances are, you personally know someone who self-injures.

Cutting is more than a stress relief, it is a cry for help.  But the question is - what are you going to do about it?  You don’t need formal training, just a caring ear.

This week, pay careful attention to the conversations and encounters you have with your friends.  If they seem to be disengaged or have drastic mood swings, it may indicate a problem.

It may be an opportunity to engage them in discussions about the love of Jesus and the healing that comes through the Gospel.  God ain’t afraid of the tough stuff.

Healing Lord, please ease my pain.  Take all my rejection, despair, loneliness, anger, frustration, and sorrow away.  Have Your blood cleanse my heart and help me see the love, joy, and acceptance that You have for me.  Amen

Thankful Despite ...

“Whatever happens, keep thanking God because of Jesus Christ." ~ 1 Thessalonians 5:18

It was never about the spiced maple turkey for her.  Nor did the sausage stuffing, carrots, mashed potatoes, or cranberries define the day.  She had to admit that Thanksgiving would never have been the same without Pecan Pie and Pumpkin Cake.

To her, being able to sit around a table lined with family - that was simply magic!

Thanksgiving Day began early, with Martha’s family gathered around the kitchen table for a special, once-a-year breakfast.  Between bites of fresh cinnamon rolls and sips of eggnog, they’d record the year's blessings on notebook paper: “landing a new job, making a new friend, getting a driver’s license, earning an ‘A’ in Algebra.”  No item was too small for the list.

Once they’d filled their pages, Martha would reach for the family's “Thanksgiving Journal” that contained lists from the past 37 years.  As they sifted through the pages, they’d recall key milestones: moving into a new house, starting their own business, entering college, marriages and grandchildren.

Tears and laughter flowed freely as they read about a 4-year-old's appreciation for a new bicycle, the swing set inherited from a family at church, their first dog and memories of loved ones who’d since passed away.

Shortly after breakfast, the turkey went in the oven, the card table transformed into a puzzle area and football entertained those inclined.  But the heart of their Thanksgiving happened despite the day’s chaos - when they added the year's memories to a growing collection of God's blessings.

Martha’s eyes fluttered as her dreamlike state shifted to reality.  She first became aware of the musty air and a mattress as lumpy as oatmeal.  She sat up and took in the homeless residents around her.  Waking up can be really harsh, especially if your dreams were better than reality.

Her life had changed dramatically when her husband passed away last spring.  Since then, she’d lost their home and business, a storage unit with a lifetime of assets, and been sexually violated.  Her string of back luck didn’t end there.

While sleeping in a friend’s car a few weeks back, Martha became very ill and was rushed to the hospital.  When she was well enough to be discharged, they’d accidently thrown away what few belongings remained.  She left the hospital in scrubs and a threadbare blanket.

But on this Thanksgiving Day Martha was fortunate enough to secure one of the 30 beds the Baldwin Shelter made available for the night.  And tomorrow, they’d share a holiday meal of processed turkey, candied yams and mashed potatoes.

The shelter was clean and warm; the staff kind and nonjudgmental.  And she had her FAITH.  If she still had the family’s Thanksgiving Journal, she’d add several pages of the things that she was thankful for right now despite the setbacks and disappointments.

Dear God, I’m thankful for all of it.  The highs, the lows. The blessings, the lessons. The setbacks and the comebacks.  The memories.  The love.  But most of all, Your grace!  Amen  ~ Martha

The Poor Philanthropist

“Help carry one another's burdens." ~ Galatians 6:2

Jalen’s family was as dysfunctional as it was large.  His mother Jolene’s hunger for procreation looted their already meagre budget.  With each new sibling the resource pie got cut a little thinner.  There was rarely enough food to provide even a hint of relief from starvation.

Today would be one of those rarities, however.  His grandparents invited the family and a few close friends to celebrate Jalen’s seventh birthday to a picnic in the park.  No presents – but plenty of fried chicken and all the fixin’s.

Just as the candles were about to be blown out, Jalen noticed a woman and a small boy rummaging through the park dumpster for food.  He begged his mother to invite them to the party.

There’s something about hunger that robs the spirit and the body.  In the throes of severe malnutrition all emotions that could thwart a person's ability to fight selfishness are switched off.  At least that's the way it was for Jalen’s mother - Jolene said “No!”

His head sagged.  He would have given away his last grain of rice and a hug to go with it.  They were poor but they never rummaged through a garbage container full of rodents, broken glass and dirty diapers for food.  But he wasn’t about to spoil one of the best days of his life by starting a nasty argument with his crack-addicted mother.

As Jalen continued watching them, his grandfather handed him an envelope.  It contained a crisp $50 bill and a handwritten note suggesting he spend it however he wanted.

The argument that he’d hoped to avoid erupted between his grandma and his mom.  Jolene objected to her son receiving such a large sum of money.  Mom wanted the money for the ‘family’ but grandma knew it would have gone to fuel her habit.

“Jalen can do ANYTHING he wants with the money,” grandma insisted, thus ending the debate.

So he did.

Jalen walked over to the dumpster and handed the entire amount to a woman he’d never met.  He explained with more maturity than most twenty-seven year olds, that it just wasn’t right for someone starve when hunger could be prevented.

His grandparents understood how powerful it was for a boy to give away the only money he’d ever seen.  Sadly, Jolene never did.

Jalen paid dearly for his actions that night by the wrath of an addict who hadn’t scored.  But to him, every bruise was worth it.

Jesus taught that in reality, we are all poor.  We’ve all felt “hungry,” that is, unfulfilled, uncertain about life’s purpose?  Who hasn’t been exhausted by the day’s work or by life itself?

The most fruitful works flow from a heart of inclusive love heightened by understanding one’s own poverty.

Here I am Lord, accept my poverty, hide my sin in your wounds, wash them away with Your blood.  Allow me to trust in Your goodness so that I too, may become more capable of mercy, patience, forgiveness and love.  Amen

Memories of War

“God is our refuge and strength; ever-present in troubled times." ~ Psalm 46:1

When I was about 10, my Dad and I sat with Grampa in his den.  I asked him about a small painting of a rocky snowcapped peak he’d made with strokes of blue, gray and white many years ago.  He looked at it for a moment, able to see his ghostly reflection in the sheen of glass that covered it.

The image awakened memories long forgotten; echoes of that hospital stay jarred his mind.  (I later learned that he’d painted it while recovering from his wounds in a hospital after the war).  Suddenly being forced to swim in the tide waters of the past, he spoke with the attitude of a soldier returning to the battlefield.

Tears filled his eyes as Grampa shared a brief snippet of his 3-year stretch in Europe during WWII.

"I remember this poor (American) Indian kid,” he began, “a private.  We were being shelled by artillery, but the krauts were shooting too high.  We heard the rounds pass just over our heads and hit the mountain somewhere behind us.  The whole earth shook.”

“The kid crouched beside me.  As the rounds went over, his face went white as a ghost.  When they exploded behind us, color returned to his cheeks.

I'll never forget that kid's face, dying and coming back to life, over and over on that mountain.”  I hated the senseless killing; the suffering and misery of war but I was proud that I’d done my duty and served my country."

I looked over at my Dad, who was leaning so far forward I thought he’d fall out of his chair.  His eyes were wide and, for a moment, he looked younger than me.  I didn't realize until that moment that he'd been waiting since 1945 for a single story about the war from his father.  Grampa never told another.

A WWII vet silent about his experiences.  What a loss.  They represent qualities that we admire so much in our citizens – duty and service.  Their experiences also reminds us that the military can be a great social leveler.  These two soldiers wouldn’t have thought twice about serving in the same unit despite disparities in culture, education and social status.  In the civilian world, their paths would likely never have crossed.  For a time, these were all Americans who invested their lives in service to our nation and secured our freedom.

Veterans Day is a time to reflect, but it’s also a time to help veterans find their voices, so we can collectively find ours as a nation.  We can't afford to hold our veterans at arm's length.  We need to learn from them and see them for who they are – an essential part of our nation and ourselves.

Lord, today we honor our veterans, worthy men and women who gave their best when called upon to serve our country.  Bless them for their unselfish service in the continual struggle to preserve our freedoms, our safety, and our country’s heritage.  Amen

Innocence Lost

"Nothing can separate us from God's love for us!”  ~ Romans 8:39

As if the water would cleanse her anguish, Danielle took the longest, hottest shower she’d ever taken.  Giving up her virginity had unleashed feelings more powerful than she could have possibly imagined.

He was her brother’s best friend – she had admired him.  He would make comments about how pretty, smart, and talented he thought she was.  Initially, Danielle had freaked . . . but she was also like a sponge, soaking in his compliments.  A good-looking, single guy was interested in her, even though he was in his mid-20’s and she was still a teen.

She and her girlfriends had joined True Love Waits and pledged sexual purity until marriage.  She broke her promise to God, to herself, and to her future husband.

He hadn't forced her to have sex with him.  Yet, she felt like a victim.  He had carefully planned his seduction using flattery and manipulation.  Danielle felt important and loved – but at what price?

She hadn’t worried about getting caught.  Mom was too busy to notice and Dad wasn't around.  Over time, her ambivalence became easier to live with . . . until this morning.

She missed her period and vomited before breakfast.  Panic stricken, Danielle wondered if she was pregnant.  She told Eric after work expecting him to be worried too.  She imagined that if a home pregnancy test was positive, they’d discuss how they’d break the news about wedding their plans.

His response shocked her.  "You're old enough for an abortion without parental consent," he snapped.  "I'll give you the cash, but you’ll have to get your own ride.”

His glare terrified her.   No concern for her whatsoever – only raw, selfish fear for his himself and his reputation.  How could she have been so gullible?

Luckily, she was not pregnant, but his reaction shattered her fantasy.  She’d convinced herself that she was important to him, but deep down, she knew the truth: Eric was using her!  Danielle had given him something that she could never get back.

She would eventually open up to a counselor, and pour out her deep shame, self-hatred and hostility.  Her Youth Pastor would also help her find spiritual peace.   She no longer blames God for what happened.  She knows He forgives and loves her.   God will use her painful experience to help others, she prays.

She no longer blames herself, either.   She can even share this story – as a warning to those who might be vulnerable to sexual predators.

She’ll wait for true love . . . someone to laugh, cry and make memories with.  A man of integrity (Ephesians 4:28); someone whose behavior will be caring in all circumstances (1 John 3:18); and a man love and listen to events of her day with sensitivity, interest, and concern (James 1:19).

“Jesus, as a teenager You walked in our shoes.  You faced the same temptations.   You understand!  Help me say ‘NO’ to inappropriate temptations.  And forgive me when I mess up, in Your name. Amen.”