Setting the Stage (Part V - conclusion)

(If you are reading this for the first time, make sure to scroll down and start with Part I of "Setting the Stage" to get the full story. Thanks!)


The impact of my father’s death distorted the lens through which I perceived God. If this was my concept concerning fathers, and if God is the Chief Father, then according to my heart, He could not be trusted either. Deep down I believed that God, being the Father, was going to reject and abandon me too; that He, like my earthly father, was incapable of truly loving me.

The love of God is not an entity that can merely be intellectualized; rather, it is one that must be experienced and beheld in your heart. But for too long, my intellectual responses overshadowed my heart’s authentic reply. Although my mind and mouth had been saying ‘yes’ to the aforementioned questions regarding God’s character, my heart was in disbelief. My eyes were too weak to perceive such Majesty and my heart too wounded to encounter such Love. The truth is, I had no idea how to love God. More than that, I had no idea how to be loved by Him.

Woundedness spawned within me a fear that silently seeped into my soul.

So, as is my tendency when fearful, I created methods to push God away - often utilizing sin to keep Him at a distance. I figured if I was sinning, He could only have so much of my heart. Then if - or when - He let me down, He could only break that which I allowed Him to have.

The most devious component of my story is that I was largely ignorant of these invading issues. For the most part, I did not realize - or at least acknowledge - that these wounds created such misconceptions. I knew the battle was ragging inside of me, but I knew not who my opponents were. I was so busy running, I never turned around to catch sight of their faces. Though I tried to retreat time and time again, the battle advanced more swiftly than my heart could hasten.

In order to fight, I had to halt and turn to stand and face my adversaries with the full knowledge that war is never absent of blood and tears. And this one would not be either.

I remember lying in bed one night after finally realizing all of this, worn from fighting and bleeding out to God, “You know I’m afraid to let you in. You know I’m afraid to trust You. But I want to trust You. I want to love You. So, as hesitant, as scared, as fearful as I may be, this is what I will do.”

At that moment, I began to feel the Spirit flanking my foes. Where I lay in defeat, He started to claim victory. Where I retreated in fear, He proved to be bold. Where I was weak, He was, and is, mighty.

My friend, let me give you permission to drop all pretenses. I dare you to be vulnerable - to be humble. Do not permit yourself to give any pre-rehearsed, trite, pulpit-fed responses. You know, the ones that you feel you have to give in order to be a ‘good’ Christian? Be honest with yourself. Even more so, be honest with God. The question is not if you have enemies, but rather what enemies do you face? What misconceptions do you believe about God and about yourself that are the result of well-placed wounds? Stand and face your foes. Brothers and sisters, be strong and courageous, for the Lord our God is with you. Allow Him to be mighty in your weakness - to be triumphant through your meekness.

Allow not your head, but rather your heart to reply to the following:

Do you believe that God loves you? I mean, really loves you? Do you love Him? Do you know how to be loved by Him? Do you experience His love regularly, or is it merely an intellectual concept?

Do you believe that He is more trustworthy than you could ever hope? Do you trust Him? Do you know that by faith in Christ, He will never leave you nor forsake you?

Think of the person, people, or situation that has maimed you deepest. Does God resemble them to you? Do you know and believe that He is nothing like the opprobrious subjects who have wounded, lied to, or discarded you? Are your beliefs founded upon God’s unchanging Truth, or are they founded in your woundedness?

Do you believe that in even the most grim situation, He is good and desires good for you?

Is your intellect standing on the knowledge of God’s character, but your heart retreating from His presence?

(Hint: These questions cannot be answered by just reading through them. Take them with you and consider in depth your heart’s answer. Most likely, your heart’s response is buried beneath layers of intellect, insecurities, fears, and debris. It’s going to take some excavating, and, if you’re honest, it will be probably be painful. Treasures such as these are never procured without a war, and a war is never absent of… yeah, you get it.)

Now, to aid you in unearthing your answers, let me give you a little test.

How do you know what you believe? How do you know that your answers are truly a response of your heart? You compare the content of your answers to the content of your life. Is what you said congruent with what you do? Is there evidence of a trust in and love for God in your life? Is there evidence that you regularly experience the love of God and know it in your heart?

Do you treat God like you treat those who afflicted you? Do you find ways - whether they be methods, sins, habits, attitudes, perspectives, doctrines, theologies, etc - to keep God in your personalized box? Do you find ways to keep Him at a reasonable distance?

Now, I would be misleading if I produced within you the idea that I am completely healed of all internal anguish or that I have vanquished my adversaries. Truthfully, it is a daily battle for me. Some battles I know I will fight my whole life through. But this is where I must learn to trust God all the more. I am no match for my enemies. My strength is feeble and my wits are dull. Believe me, I have tried to win this war, but inevitably I am left time and time again in a pool of my own depravity.

And you will be too, unless you find your solace, strength, and serenity in God Himself. We are guaranteed, as a result of living in a fallen world, that we will have tribulation. However, it does not end there! We are encouraged to take heart in this promise, that our Lord and God, Jesus Christ, the risen Savior, has overcome this world. That by His wounds we are healed. That by the power of His Spirit and the perfection of His love  our combatants are slain and our battles won!

“For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name, that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; and that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God.

“Now to Him who is able to do far more abundantly beyond all that we ask or think, according to the power that works within us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and ever. Amen.” - Ephesians 3:14-21

Thank you for reading. I love you all and am honored to call you brothers and sisters:)

Stay Rooted!!!

Setting the Stage (Part IV)

On the 4th of July weekend - only a couple days after my girlfriend broke up with me - my friend Jim and I took a trip down to sweet home Alabama where we met his family and I learned that the myths are all too true. What? No. Not about inbreeding and illiteracy. I’m talking about food and hospitality. Come on! We ate well. The mosquitos did too. The only one complaining was my waist line. Best of all, we got to spend a day out on the bayou. Ok, we were on a lake. I just feel more authentic using terms unknown around these parts.

Upon our arrival, the scent of banana puddin’ and comfort welcomed us. Jim’s mom is a delightful lady. She is a retired missionary nurse who, for decades, has healed the people of the world, principally in Africa. As a token of her adventures her house was cleverly decorated; each room had its own theme based on the seven continents. Of course, I was housed in the Africa room. Pictures of her working in clinics and curing African cultures lined the walls. Oh, by the way, did I mention that my girlfriend wanted to be a missionary nurse in Africa? Yeah. Go figure.

As I was lying in bed thinking about where I went wrong in my relationship and how I managed to destroy the best thing in my life, as well as why my father would make the choice to abandon my family and I, a voice - one that I attribute to the enemy, in whatever form it took - spoke to me. In the most malevolent temper, it said, “Of course your girlfriend left you! Even your own father didn’t love you enough to stay. What makes you think anyone else in this world would?”

......................

Even with my extensive background in pubescent warfare, I had never been hit that hard. It was a sudden strike that pierced into the very depths of my heart. In this somber solitude, I realized that my authentic awareness of rejection and abandonment had taken root long before she did it. To the enemy’s dismay, however, the wound pierced so deep that it actually revealed what was buried within. It penetrated to that place unseen; to a place I did not even know existed. God used for good what was intended for evil.

I had been rooted in rejection and abandonment for years. The fruit that I bore gave witness to it. Just ask any of my old girlfriends. Actually don’t. It will make me look bad. The roots ran deep. Too deep for me to realize. It took being rejected again by someone who I loved dearly to drive a shovel deep enough to unroot these issues.

Until this point in my life, if you were to ask me, “Nathan, do you fully believe that God loves you? Do you fully believe that He is trustworthy? Do you fully believe that He will never leave you nor forsake you?” I would have answered you, “Absolutely!” with a smile on my face and a heart that was running for the exit.

Most Christians that I know of who have a similar story as I do say that when they heard of how God is a Father to the fatherless and that He wanted to be theirs, it drew them to His embrace; they yearned to acquire the relationship of which their lives were lacking. This was not so with me. Every time I heard that God wanted to be my Father, my heart would retreat faster than France in...well, just about any war. It located the nearest escape and took it. Why? I don’t know, ask France. Oh, wait, you mean me?

When my father died, the impact warped my concept of who fathers are. Until this time, in the depths of my heart, I believed that fathers, by nature, abandon their families, are the most untrustworthy beings on this earth, are intolerably selfish, and are not truly loving; therefore, trusting them with your heart and life is suicide. Of course I would never admit it, but mainly because I did not realize I held these beliefs.

Do you see the predicament? 


(...Almost there. Just one more blog entry to go to complete the 'stage!'...)

Setting the Stage (Part III)

...my girlfriend broke up with me while I was in Nashville.

Now, I know you’re thinking, “Seriously? You left me hanging only to end with a sappy love story? If that’s what I wanted, I’d just go listen to Taylor Swift and get wasted on ice cream. See if I ever read this blog again.” But its point is relevant. I promise!

She was not just my girlfriend, she was my best friend. She was the love of my life. I had been strung on this girl for over five years. Five years, people! She understood me better than anyone ever has. Which, if you have ever been around me, is quite the feat. You would understand that even, or especially, my humor isn’t the easiest to grasp. I think it’s what most people classify as ‘dorky.’ But it was ok, because she was, or is, too. I was convinced that we were going to spend our lives together. Then it all fell apart and I could do nothing to repair it. Trust me, I wanted to jump on the first plane available, buy a white horse, knight’s armor, and a lance and go rescue her from the evil clutches of confusion, but I could not. I had to respect her choice and love her enough to let her go.

She broke up with me and it broke my heart. But out of this broken heart would flow insight and understanding.

 As a word of advice, if you ever get your heart broken - which I hope you don’t, but if you do - make sure you stay clear of country music and the South. Why? Because it’s musically catastrophic. I started writing songs about her. Cheesy ones too. With such titles as “Nashville Stole My Heart” - as a play on words - and “Lying to Me.” The lyrics of the latter had a line that said “I’ll be ok without you. But when will I see, that I can’t keep lying to me?” Oh heartbreak. It’s quite the inspiration, is it not? At least now I have trudged through the muddy soil in which the roots of country music are planted.

Fortunately, I had made some wonderful friends in “the ‘Ville.” Evan, one of my guy friends, was going through a similar situation; so, naturally, we talked about how women, at least our women, are ruthlessly irrational and have no true understanding of logic or their emotional processes (unlike any of you tremendous and beautiful women currently reading this blog, of course). It was quite therapeutic. Nevertheless, the feelings of abandonment and rejection lingered.

These very feelings from our breakup, however, would unearth deeper fears and misconceptions that had been buried for over a decade. This was not the first time I had been rejected. And though it felt like it at times, this was not the worst form of rejection I had endured either.

In my dejection, I also shared my story with my friend Jenn who had experienced her share of family struggles too. She thought it would help if she gave me a questionnaire she received from her counselor that focused on helping me understand my family dynamic and what role it had in shaping the person I had become. And help it did, but not nearly how I anticipated. More than anything, the questions got me thinking about my father, and I realized that much of my family’s dynamic was set on a new course the day he died. It impacted all of us. And as I hopped in the Delorian and explored the past, I saw just how vast the crater actually was and how far off course we had been cast.


At this point, I have yet to reveal how my father actually died. Well, shortly after receiving a letter from him that ended with, “I’ll see you soon, buddy boy,” I walked into that room to see the disclosure written on my mother’s face. Though he battled physical and emotional anguish for years, eventually he lost the war to drugs. 


So where is this all going? What does my girlfriend breaking up with me and my father dying from a drug overdose have to do with each other? I am glad you asked.


(...I was really trying to pack this all into three posts, but let's face it, the richness of life is more complex than a measly three entries. I hope you will join me next Monday for Part IV. Thank you very much for reading! I hope reading these stories bless you as much as you reading them blesses me!...)