Worse than

Worse than not looking like me, is not feeling like me...(I think)

Here I am, theorizing again, but now that I have begun chemo, and before it has changed my outward appearance, it has changed the way I feel. Normally outgoing and friendly, ready to join in almost any conversation, I walk through masses of people, feeling fuzzy. The room almost "spinning" as the cliche goes. And just when you're not sure if anyone else can notice how you're feeling-so out of place-a total stranger walks up to you, in a place where you are a "regular", and utters these words: "Are you alright, ma'am?" Ugh.

I found myself identifying (some might say mellow dramatically) with the "Gadarene Demoniac", the man with the unclean spirit, of Mark 5, in the Bible. The story says of him:

"And always night and day he was in the mountains and the tombs, crying out, and cutting himself with stones."

Ok, now even I think that sounds a little mellow dramatic! I'm not saying I was sitting there contemplating injuring myself when the helpful young man came up...I'm saying that this Gadarene guy was not the one cutting himself either. He was merely the guy trapped in a situation where he had no control. Someone or something else was calling the shots. And that is miserable.

Cancer is-at the moment-my "someone or something else" calling the shots...what is it for you? What has you so turned around, that you don't know whether to worship Jesus, or to fear him? (Mark 5:6-7). Is He your cure, or your judge? That can be the question in your head, and like the Gadarene, it was put there by demons themselves. The demoniac (full of demons identified as "Legion") put his hope in Jesus-the demons themselves begged Him for mercy and received it! And what was the outcome? If you know the story, you know a herd of pigs took a demonic leap into the sea...their herdsmen got really freaked out and told everyone in town...they all came out and saw the Gadarene "former demoniac" sitting there dressed and fully looking and feeling like himself again.

Happy end of story, right? Not exactly. The townspeople were scared of the big giant change that had occurred. Sure they had been trying to contain the demon possessed guy for years, tried chaining him, maybe even praying for him...and now, clearly, something huge had broken through. But it wasn't something they felt comfortable with. It had cost them something. Pigs, maybe, or maybe just normalcy. Things should go back to normal...in a normal way. Their brilliant plan to regain normalcy? Beg Jesus to LEAVE.

Jesus did leave. But not in a huff. Not shaking the dust off his feet from the undeserving town. He left there, among them, one abruptly changed life. And this charge to the transformed man:

"Go home to your friends, and tell them what great things the Lord has done for you, and how He has had compassion on you. And he departed and began to proclaim...all that Jesus had done for him; and all marveled."

I don't know what you're going through...I don't know what stage it's in. Are people looking at you side ways, wondering if you're alright? Are they avoiding eye contact all together? Are they asking you how you're doing, and hearing what they want to hear? Are they uncomfortable with the way Jesus is delivering you? Too quick, too dramatic, too slow. Too untraditional? They love you, (or maybe they don't), they want to help you...(or, again, maybe they don't). Just remember, they can't. There is only one Who the winds and the waves and the demons and the substances obey. Put your hope in Him, and you will never be put to shame. And, eventually, all will marvel.


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If I don't look like me, then who am I?

If I don't look like me, then who am I?

I have looked like me all my life. I have had a love/hate relationship with me. But at the age of almost 50...for the most part I have accepted who I am. And I wouldn't even want to look like ...Angelina Jolie, Jennifer Aniston, or Scarlett Johansson-because then I wouldn't look like me. My hair is not terribly thick, but I like it-it suits me-and I get compliments on it. My body may not be as voluptuous as some, but I like it:) Clothes are my friend:) They cover over a multitude of sins.

But now, all the control I have-over what I look like-is about to go away. Because now, I have cancer. I have kept my hair long, because I feel better in long hair, my husband likes long hair. I have kept my weight under a certain standard (granted, easier for me than others), because I know I don't feel good about myself when I'm over a certain poundage, and my clothes don't fit right anymore. Sure, I am aging, and there are factors I can't control. But I have (subconsciously, I realize) held on very tightly to the ones I could.

Who knew I was such a control freak? (that's rhetorical, for those of you who really know me;). I had prepared myself as best I could, for losing my hair. I even took pictures of me in a head scarf, to try and simulate it. It wasn't so bad. Maybe I could "rock the scarf" after all. I had a friend who said she and her husband wanted to get me a wig, when the time came. It seemed all my bases were covered. But even I knew I could only be prepared in theory-not for the true physicality of it.

Now my treatment has a face. And it is promising to be bald, threatening to be haggard, and possibly, even to be overweight. And my treatment has a season...Valentines Day, Easter, my daughter's graduation from high school, my 50th birthday. It's not like other seasons, when you think..."If I just plan enough in advance, I can get on a regimen where I could be in my best physical shape ever! And I can plan my hair color appointment just so...and maybe a few more layers would be better...(or maybe a few less layers?)..."

No. Now it is truly out of my hands. And now is when theory has to put some clothes on and walk around...and everyone will know if I still know who I am, or if I'm just pretending to know.

I am Lisa Jones. A daughter of the King. A beauty to her Daddy-God. A sharer of the good news. A comforter of others. A woman who longs to be used mightily in the Kingdom, and who considers it an honor to be on the front lines. Even if that means suffering. Especially if that means suffering. I am all of that-in theory.

Time to let God make me more than theory.

Who am I? I am His. Period. And He is enough.

Could He really love me?

"Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?" (Romans 8:35)

My response:

-Shall staying up too late (yet again)?
-Shall sleeping in too long (yet again)?
-Shall saying things you wish you hadn't (yet again)?
-Shall the surprisingly unattractive overflow of your heart?
-Shall your inability to keep a clean house?
-Shall your inability to write a book, an article...post a blog?
-Shall your lack of exercise?
-Shall your financial state?

No! None of these are able to separate me from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Jesus atoned for me once and for all time. I must confess and repent (1John 1:9), but I do not need to "go outside the camp". I do not need to rip my clothes, mess up my hair, and cover my face. (Lev. 13:45)

There is no guilt here. Not because I have not sinned, but because I am "in Christ Jesus"!
Ahhh...what a beautiful difference a Savior makes.






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Wake up

"Are you still sleeping and resting? Enough! The hour has come. Look, the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. Rise! Here comes my betrayer!" (Jesus-Mark 14:41&42)

I think at some point, when our spiritual eyes are really opened, we will kick ourselves for not taking the opportunity to pray God's power into so many situations.

We were too busy 'sleeping'-sometimes with our eyes wide open...fixed on a flat screen. Sometimes day dreaming from thought to thought-if not page to page of the latest catalogue (that has arrived conveniently at our doorstep...designed to walk us out of the realities of the moment and into the land of want and desire).

Don't get me wrong, rest is commanded-sleep is a necessity! Just be aware of it's various forms-of it's seduction. It's escapism. It's consequences.

"A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to rest and poverty will come upon you like a thief and scarcity like an armed man." (Proverbs 6:10&11)

I think we forget to factor in spiritual poverty-don't underestimate spiritual poverty.
Conversations that never happened. A mind stayed on 'stuff'...the next deal, the next meal, the next show, the next game, the next distraction.

The answer-of course-is not busyness. The answer is to WAKE UP spiritually...to realize 'the hour has come'. Look around you! Jesus is being betrayed all over the place. 'rise, here comes the enemy'...and he is hoping you'll sleep right through...everything!

After asking his disciples to "watch and pray", the text in the gospel of Mark goes on to say: 'When Jesus came back, he again found them sleeping, because their eyes were heavy, they did not know what to say to him.'. (Mark 14:40)

Those last 9 words haunt me the most: 'they did not know what to say to him'.
Savior and Lord! Wake us up while there is still time!

What might be accomplished if we truly prayed without ceasing. (There are certainly an unceasing number of things to lift up to Him in this broken place.)
And Oh the things we would have to say to Him, when he comes back!

"She did what she could"

It's been a while since I've posted anything. I haven't felt like writing. I've still been Seeking Him Desperately...but just not publicly. Today, though, I felt the nudge to do it. I've been reading Mark. There's so much I want to share with you about Mark 14-but I'm gonna resist the urge to give you all the peripheral stuff-I'm gonna dive right into what hit me today.

In Mark 14, (you could go read it real quick if you want, I can wait. You've waited long enough for me;), Jesus is eating at the house of "Simon the Leper", and a woman comes in and takes this super expensive jar of perfume and breaks the jar and pours it on His head. The study notes assure me that this is a "common custom at feasts", and that "the woman's action expressed her deep devotion to Jesus".

So, I get that it's not as crazy as it sounds, but I'm thinking it would still take great courage to perform this act of devotion without being given permission, or being asked to do so. Which she obviously wasn't, by the response she gets after she does it. She probably already felt self-conscious, and then scripture tells us she was harshly rebuked, and everybody started saying how that was such a waste of perfume, and how it could have been sold for more than a years wages and the money given to the poor.

She must have felt so embarrassed. She probably started to doubt her own actions, and the burning desire she'd had to honor Jesus. After all,
Who did she think she was?
And did Jesus think she was a fool too?
Maybe she was just a stupid stupid girl.

And then! In comes her knight in shining armour! What every woman longs for in a man. A protector. Someone who totally understands her. Someone who actually knew the motives of everyone in the room! (a guy who actually can read minds) He openly honors her while subtly putting everyone else in their place. He called her actions beautiful.

This seemingly impulsive act that she had just been second guessing, was defined by Jesus as not only beautiful, but of lasting significance. (she was known, she was valued, she was loved)

Think about it: She had felt lead to do something for God.
She had risked embarrassment and scorn.
She endured (momentary) embarrassment and scorn.
And, as a result: She was given a place in the story of Jesus that continues on centuries after her death.

Something to remember the next time you feel lead to do something for God.

But here's my favorite part. Listen to what Jesus says in verse 8:

"She did what she could."

Jesus said this on the heels of telling her accusers, "You can help (the poor) anytime you want".

See, people like to talk. They like to say what should be done...what they could do...what they will do-or-what they can't do, about this messy broken world.

But Jesus commends this woman because,

quietly,

passionately,

obediently:

she did what she could.

So, what could you do? Wait-don't talk about it-actually do it.

"For the Kingdom of God is not a matter of talk, but of power"

(1 Cor. 4:20)