Suffering

How to make it when all goes wrong: a Thanksgiving reflection.

Posted on by Angela Madaha

Everyone has their own journey, their own winding path. Some difficulties are wide open for all to see, and then some are quiet and secret, hidden away from the obvious conversations of life.

The journey of me and my husband this year has definitely been the former — the journey that was filled with so many clear, out-in-the-open struggles that it was impossible to keep it out of conversations.

As a recap…

Last year on December 15, 2018 we got married on a wondrous, whirlwind, adventurous day.

And the adventure was only about to get more adventurous.

Because… at the end of January we found out we were pregnant.

Our already-begun future plans about potential visas to visit the US, job opportunities near or far, and ideas of where to plant our lives now included carrying a pregnancy, giving birth, and all the intricate details that come along with that.

For those that were closest to us during that time, you’ll know how difficult things quickly got. 2 more tourist visa applications got denied, we struggled with figuring out timing of eventually seeing each other (which we hoped would happen during the pregnancy), navigating jobs and finances and maternity leave, and me ending my lease and having to move and store all my belongings without knowledge if they should stay there short or long term. Then struggling with deciding if I needed to plan to save and prepare to travel back to Tanzania if his spousal visa took as long as it could possibly take (1-2 years), figuring out how I’d get a passport for our son if that happened, and what I’d have to do for a job if I did have to go back. Then the other option if I stayed and waited for Peter, what I’d do if I had to single parent for an undetermined amount of time, and how I could juggle work and a newborn. Then the hardest scenario, working through if Peter didn’t make it for the birth, how I would handle that alone, what would I do if something went wrong, how sad it would be to experience that alone, how afraid I was to do all of it alone…

People, the list could go on and on with the continual stresses and potential stresses that we dealt with every day while separated. The daily unknown was hard, and then slowly watching hopes die of being together at all during the pregnancy. I don’t have really have space to explain the emotional toll that took on both of us.

So how did we get through it?

How did we bear every single disappointment, one after another, including Peter not being there in time and being present for my labor signs, admittance to the hospital, natural induction methods, unmedicated labor, baby stress signs, emergent C-section as I neared pushing, our baby Jackson being immediately admitted to NICU due to meconium aspiration, the uncertainty of waiting several days to see if there was an damage due to potential lack of oxygen, 24 longs days in the NICU while I lived on the hospital site in their Ronald McDonald House before finally going home– how did we bear it all?

How could we possible not be angry and bitter, disconnected in bearing our own sadness and emotions, and spiring out due to the continual anxiety?

How could our marriage thrive, our individual selfs feeling more close and known to the other, our bitterness wane away, and our trust in God grow?

One word.

Thankfulness.

We talked and Skyped anywhere between 2-3 times a day, and I cannot remember a single day, especially in the 2-3 months prior to birth, where at some point in the conversation we didn’t express something we were thankful for in our situation.

There was a lot to be angry and bitter and frustrated and sad about. There really was. And we talked about those things too.

But oh there was so much to be thankful for.

Thankful for my parents who took me back in to live with them.

Thankful that I didn’t have to stress about paying rent or other general living expenses.

Thankful that our family’s church in Indiana was so kind and supportive and giving, always praying all the time for us.

Thankful for all the friends who continually reached out and prayed for us and really cared about everything.

Thankful for the several work opportunities and clients I was able to get that allowed me to work from home and do only virtual work.

Thankful for my above and beyond health during my pregnancy, to the point where I actually even liked it at times.

Thankful for our baby’s health during the whole pregnancy.

Thankful for the great healthcare insurance I had.

Thankful for the total of 3 baby showers we were thrown and how we hardly had to spend any money on buying baby supplies.

Thankful for the midwife group who really cared about us and took such good care of me.

Thankful for the doulas who so fully loved us and looked out for me during my whole pregnancy and birth.

Thankful for Peter’s job that allowed him the flexibility to travel to Dar Es Salaam (very far away from his city) several times in order to take care of business at the embassy there.

Thankful for friends who graciously gave us their car shortly before our baby arrived.

Thankful that although it felt like an eternity for Peter to get his approvals for the spousal visa and Green Card, in total from beginning to end it was 5 1/2 months, and most cases are taking easily 1.5 – 2 years.

Thankful that we got pregnancy so fast because that ended up being the linchpin to Peter getting his visa so quickly and giving additional proof to the validity of our marriage.

Thankful for Kathie, and immigration specialist at a Congressional office in our town, who personally advocated for our case, getting us expedited several times along the way. Near the end she was calling the office every day to help Peter get his final interview scheduled in hopes he’d be home before the baby arrived.

Thankful that by time Peter did get all his approvals, we had enough money to cover all the crazy amounts of immigration fees and travel costs to move to the US.

Thankful that God gave me so much grace during my labor and delivery, that I didn’t really experience any anxiety and fear, which really was a complete miracle given everything that happened.

Thankful that our marriage was built on friendship, love and commitment, and that we were able to thrive on those non-superficial things even though separated for 7 1/2 months.

Thankful that we practiced self control and willingness to not give into our physical and sexual desires during our dating and engagement, which gave us so much trust in each other during our separation.

Thankful we both loved God and were mature in our faith so that this trial didn’t tear apart something weak, but rather bonded a strength even stronger.

Thankful for our journey and the stories it would bring to our children and their children one day.

Thankful we could be thankful, and that we had the gift of life.

Just… thankful.

People always said to me during that time, “Wow, you are so strong,” and I know that is what it came across as on the outside. And at first it bothered me because, you know, don’t you know how much I have suffered?!

But now I realize something.

Being thankful does make you strong. And it is possible to be strong and suffering at the same time. In fact, maybe that’s how it should be. It’s our time of both weakness and strong, because at that point God can work in us and through us, and we become most like Him and who he created us to be in the first place. Our full humanity is on display, and our full Image of God.

So be thankful today. It’s not pretending. You aren’t lying when you are going through a tough time and people ask, “How are you,” and you say, “You know, I’m really thankful for…” It broadens your perspective and thickens your emotional muscle.

You are most real when you are most honest with your weaknesses, and at the same time can speak over them about what you have to be thankful for.

It’s a bitter life to only be thankful when everything is going your perfect way. Because that will never ever happen.

So be thankful and let your real strength be strengthened, and your real Godlikeness to shine brightest.

 

What does it mean to give up privilege?

Posted on by Angela Madaha

Privilege.

It can be a pretty hot topic word nowadays.

“Our mission is to serve the underprivileged.”

“They’re just a bunch of spoiled, privileged rich kids.”

“What’s all the talk about ‘white privilege’? I don’t act privileged.”

As much as we’d like to attach behavior to privilege, that isn’t actually the definition of it.

You see, having a privilege is something you swim in. Like a fish, you can’t tell that you are wet. You just are.

And like a fish, often you didn’t choose or control the world of privileges that you were given. It’s not necessarily a good or bad thing either.

It just is what it is.

The only time a fish can realize that it functions best being wet is only when it’s taken out of the water. Then, scarily enough, it realizes the thing that caused it’s world to function best was the water it swam in.

Where privilege gets confused.

What we have in our world is not a problem of fish living happily and functionally in good water. That’s a perfectly good thing.

It when those fish don’t realize that it’s the water that gave them an advantage and they assume that it was all their hard work and good morals that caused their success.

It’s when they hold their same high expectations to the other less fortunate fish that were washed up on shore due to a storm and haven’t been able to get back into the water.

The difference between the 2 fish isn’t hard work and intelligence.

The difference is one lives in the water, and one doesn’t.

Where privilege goes wrong.

Sometimes the fish that are doing well swimming in the ocean get really bitter when the fish on the shore are given help to get into the water (especially if it’s a government program).

The fish complain, “But I did all this hard work to build my life in this ocean, and that lazy fish over there is in that situation due to it’s own choices. Don’t you dare use our water to assist. That fish needs to create it’s own ocean.”

Often these fish don’t even realize they are wet and swimming in a high-functioning ocean, that the systems around them benefitted them to a place of success.

When you don’t know you have privilege, you can only be judgmental.

When you know you have privilege but don’t want to share it, you can only be selfish.

What do we do with privilege?

Now, some of us recognize the certain privileges that got us to where we are (ranging from education, literacy, gender, race, family, wealth, place of birth, country of origin), and some of us have more of them than others.

But we’re somewhat unsure of what to do with those privileges.

We can’t deny them. They exist. I live in it. I’m the fish that’s sopping wet with those privileges.

So, we can simply embrace them and accept the realities of the benefits we individually have.

“I acknowledge that coming from a family of high morals and ethics have me a privilege of soundness of mind, of childhood development knowing I am loved and worthwhile, and of family support for my life decisions.”

“I acknowledge that being white grants me safety, respect, and perception of power and wealth in many places in the world, including my home country.”

“I acknowledge that being a male immediately grants me better work opportunities and higher pay, while also bestowing a presence of power in most settings.”

So I get the part where we accept what is and become aware of it.

But I really struggle with what to do with my privilege.

Normally, we start getting all action-oriented and start making plans.

“Ok, so I have all these benefits that others don’t. I have decent income and a wealth of business knowledge, so thus I’m going to use my privileges to help all these other people that don’t have them.”

We make of list of all the people that don’t have what we have, who don’t have lives that we have, who we view as definitely under-privileged, and we take our plans to them to tell them exactly what they should do in order for them to be equal like us.

Because we want equality, right? Justice and equity for all?

But I soon came to realize that they only reason I could make these decisions to help is because I have the power to. That even my decision to step out and “help” came from a direct privilege.

So what does it mean then to serve others not from a place of power, when typically even the choice to serve comes from the powerful ability to make that decision?

As a Christian, I look at the life of Jesus to find direction here. He obviously was the standard for giving up privilege and power to serve people. And boy did he sure help and change people’s lives!

This verse in Philippians 2 has particularly been captivating my mind for months now:

You must have the same attitude that Christ Jesus had. Though he was God, he did not think of equality of God as something to cling to. Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; he took the humble position of a slave and was born as a human being. When he appeared in human form, he humbled himself in obedience to God and died a criminal’s death on the cross.

What does it mean to give up our privileges?

If helping others means that we have to hold on to our privileges and power in order to help, then what does it actually mean to give up our privileges for the sake of others?

A privilege revelation while on Care and Compassion

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We drove the bumpy, dusty roads of Nylenda, an area in Kisumu, Kenya. Kisumu is a pretty developed city in Kenya, the third largest in the country, but several parts are impoverished and stuck in cycles of poverty.

Those slums — those are the targets for this team. We rode with a group of 3 Kenyans who have dedicated their lives to caring for the most sick and and AIDS-infected in Kisumu. In fact, they call their team “Care and Compassion.” Armed with medical knowledge and humongous hearts, they find the most needy and most sick, and support them into a hopefully stable condition. Stable physically, emotionally, spiritually.

We went from home to home, seeing several people in various stages of health. But more often than not, they were barely skin and bones, struggling with HIV and AIDS and often with other sicknesses like tuberculosis.

As difficult as it was to see, I was grateful to be with such a great team who was caring for these people in such loving, wholesome ways.

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But then — I’ll never forget the last home. We walked to the door way of a home, and sitting right inside of the doorway was a lady perhaps not older than 40. She was sitting slumped over on a mat, unable to even lift her head to greet us. As we walked by we tried to shake her frail, limp hand.

As we came to understand the situation, everything about it seemed hopeless. No one would help her. Due to the stigma of AIDS, her neighbors wouldn’t take her to the hospital, and even her son who lived there wouldn’t help out. We brought food with us, but there would be no way for her to make the food or take her medications properly.

Even though this team was there to support her in getting back to good health, they worked in partnership with families so that dependency wasn’t created. They also didn’t have resources to handle all aspects of transportation, cooking, administering medications, etc. This situation was pretty desperate, though, they recognized. So they knew that very soon they would have to intervene.

As we drove back home, this idea of giving up privilege to serve came back to me, and I mulled over those verses in Philippians 2 and thought how maybe I was laying aside privileges like Jesus did to do this work.

And then the revelation came, with the not-so-comfortable truth.

Angela, to give up privilege is to literally switch places.

What? Switch places with this woman? No, I think I would do better to help her out, use my voice and resources and intellect to make a difference.

But would you switch places with her?

Switch places?? Eh, well, I guess I could. And I’m sure I could figure things out. I know I’d have my family that would help me by taking me to the hospital, and I know I’d have access to healthcare options to get my medication, and I have a lot of friends and networks who would intervene, and I already know how to start businesses so I could get myself back on track financially . . .

No no, you’d have to lose those things too. You can’t take any of them with you when you switch places.

But . . . without those things I’d be . . .

Nothing. 

What does it take to lose privileges?

Well, in short, it requires everything.

And that’s a pretty steep cost. Pretty much too radical.

In order to be willing to lose privileges for the sake of others, only one thing would ever motivate someone to make that move.

And that one thing?

Love. 

That’s it.

No one would ever do that much sacrifice for any other reason. It’s simply too much to lose ourselves without any promise of return.

Which then made me realize why Jesus’ love is so astounding. 

In just a little way, I was able to imagine for a moment the audacity of Jesus’ birth and coming to earth.

In a crude micro-comparison, it would be like me losing everything, my position and education and money and friendships and family and history and color and power, and taking the body of an AIDS-infected friend-less woman and sitting helplessly on the floor with no ability to care for herself.

What humility that would take.

And yet that’s the humility He exemplified by leaving behind his privileges as the very Son of God, and taking on the confined body of a human, and being like us, in all it’s limitations and brokenness.

And the only reason Jesus would do something like that?

For love.

He did that so that you and me could be in his family. So that we could have relationship with him. So that we could advantage of his God-privileges.

He switched places. 

He took our AIDS and gave us whole life.

He took our broken relationships and gave us loving families.

He took our self-destruction and gave us Image-bearing love.

He took our shame and gave us everlasting hope.

And this is the best example of humility we can have.

This is what it means to give up privilege.

It looks like love.

It looks like humility.

It looks like losing ourselves so that someone else can advance.

And it’s a whole more extreme, and life-changing, then we could ever imagine.

So then the question isn’t how much can you do with the privileges you’ve been given.

It’s how much can you humble yourself and sit in the place of another and love them unconditionally and lose yourself so that they might advance.

And Just Like That, She Bloomed

Posted on by Angela Madaha

Earlier this summer I bought a hanging plant.

There were no blooms on it yet. Just a bunch of dirt it seemed, but the price was right and I thought for sure it held some promise.

So I hung it on my balcony in a prominent place.

And waited.

And watered.

And waited.

And watered.

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

But for a long time, perhaps several weeks, nothing happened. I couldn’t figure it out — was I destroying it up with too much water, or was it a dud plant, or did it get too much sun exposure?

It seemed odd. And slightly disappointing.

Maybe . . . there wasn’t even a plant there after all.

But I kept up the process, nevertheless.

Because for some stubborn notion giving up is never an option. Especially when I dropped a whole two dollars for it.

And so continued the daily drudgery of watering, waiting, watching.

Eventually, I’m a little sad to say, I stopped expecting anything. I was sure then that if it ever did bloom, it would most likely be sad, pathetic flowers that made even itself cry.

From the externals, there was no hint of anything good coming out of this plant. Even when I poured water on the plant, it seemed to go straight through and drop out of the bottom. Did it even retain anything?

But then, a day before I left for Africa, I walked out the back door, as always each morning, and about fell over myself.

It was a massive, gorgeous, stunning display of the richest purple flowers. Covering the plant, overflowing the sides. And with purple, my favorite color.

It took my breath away, because I had been inwardly longing for so long, and it happened so suddenly. And the first thought that came to my mind was,

And just like *that*, it bloomed.

What immediately followed next was a prophetic message that went deeper and struck my soul as God whispered to me,

And just like *that*, she bloomed.

And I knew at that point my life would be completely different.

The seasons were changing. The past was behind. Breakthrough had arrived.

It was as if my life flashed before my eyes and I knew one hand was releasing the past, and the other was grabbing ahold of the future. I had been dry for so long. Now is was time to bloom.

And I thought on it all, on the a story behind this — this long, suffering, blooming process.

You see, for oh-so-many years I thought there was promise, I had so much hope

That this plant of mine would come alive,

Soaking and waiting, and watering and hoping.

Living on hope until the last drop gave out.

And it seemed as if water poured endlessly into the drought.

So disappointed in how it only seemed to die

Time and time and time again.

Dripping through, no soaking up,

Bleeding out, no living out.

Depression and fear my nearest friends,

A future blurred out by a pain that never ends.

But I failed to see the journey in full

Must pass through death on its way to life,

That the driest spell is a burial ground

For the bitter wounds of shame and lies.

Dripping through – pain, betrayal, unforgiveness

Bleeding out – lust, self-loathing, pride

Day after day, dry after dry, pouring after pouring

Not giving up, not giving in — just giving, strong and weak.

The process – oh so long

The change and promise – oh so slow.

Sometimes staring too long at a thing

Develops a loss of perspective,

A resentment towards the loss of time and investment.

But then it came — like a night time firework,

A bursting fall tree, a surprise party.

And I could hardly believe it,

I — the most shocked of all.

You see, just like *that*

She bloomed

The most radiant of colors, the brilliance of form

Just — absolutely radiating, a wedding day bride

She was hiding no longer, entering into public eye

So proud, so self-respectful, so free

Not a whisper, but shouting with blossoms

All may see, all may talk, all may wonder

But to her nothing matters

Because the shackles of drought are gone

The time of truth has come

And truth has never been so lovely, so becoming

I can never go back

Blooming has changed me forever.

I’m glad that nature tells us a story that reflects the hope of life and future. Even when life dies and we want the world around us to reflect the death we feel inside, somehow Spring always comes around. Nature keeps following it’s created course.

Death, seed, water, growth, bloom.

Around and around the circle it goes.

And similarly, we get the same path in life.

Seasons. Change. Motion.

And life wouldn’t really be all that wonderful if it were always Spring, right?

Those flowers that bloomed — they really meant something to me because I poured so much time and expectation into them. The waiting can be a painful experience, but it can also be more like the waiting and anticipation of watching the fuse burn towards an exploding firework. Perhaps we have a choice in how we wait.

Dryness and death and cold and bare only make Spring that much more brilliant and wonderful.

So hold on to your dry, bedraggled plant. Water it with your tears. Sleep with it by your side.

Because you never know when the blooming day is coming.

And it’s coming. Oh yes it is!

Let’s talk about Refugees

Posted on by Angela Madaha

Friends.

My dear friends.

How can you claim to have faith in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ if you favor some people over others?

My brothers, my sisters.

Don’t let public opinion influence how you live out our glorious, Christ-originated faith.

How does this plays out in our lives?

For example, suppose someone comes into your meeting dressed in fancy clothes and expensive jewelry, and another comes in who is poor and dressed in dirty clothes. If you say to the rich person, “Sit here, sir, this is the best seat in the house!” and either ignore the street person or say, “Better sit here in the back row,” haven’t you segregated God’s children and proved that you are judges who can’t be trusted? Doesn’t this discrimination show that your judgments are guided by evil motives?

Listen to me, my dear friends.

Hasn’t God chosen the poor in this world to be rich in faith? Aren’t they the ones who will inherit the Kingdom he promised to those who love him?

But you dishonor the poor! Isn’t it clear by now that God operates quite differently? He chose the world’s down-and-out as the kingdom’s first citizens, with full rights and privileges. This kingdom is promised to anyone who loves God. And here you are abusing these same citizens!

citizens

Isn’t it the rich who oppress you and who use the courts to rob you blind? Isn’t it the high and mighty who exploit you? Aren’t they the ones who slander Jesus Christ?   Aren’t they the ones who scorn your name,—“Christian”?

What if you twist the Golden Rule?

You do well when you complete the Royal Rule of the Scriptures: “Love others as you love yourself.” But if you play up to these so-called important people, you go against the Rule and stand convicted by it.

If you favor some people over others, you are committing a sin. You can’t pick and choose in these things, specializing in keeping one or two things in God’s law and ignoring others.

Talk and act like a person expecting to be judged by the Rule that sets us free. There will be no mercy for those who have not shown mercy to others. But if you have been merciful, God will be merciful when he judges you.

Kind mercy wins over harsh judgment every time.

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We can’t claim the Faith without exhibiting generosity.

What good is it, dear brothers and sisters, if you say you have faith but don’t show it by your actions? Does merely talking about faith indicate that a person really has it?

For instance, you come upon a person dressed in rags and half-starved and say, “Good morning, friend! Be clothed in Christ! Be filled with the Holy Spirit! I’ll pray for you!” and walk off without providing so much as a coat or a cup of soup—where does that get you?

Isn’t it obvious that God-talk without God-acts is outrageous nonsense?

So you see, faith by itself isn’t enough. Unless it produces good deeds, it is dead and useless.

I can already hear one of you agreeing by saying, “Sounds good. You take care of the faith department, I’ll handle the works department.” Do I hear you professing to believe in the one and only God, but then observe you complacently sitting back as if you had done something wonderful?

Yeah, that’s just great. Demons do that, but what good does it do them? Use your heads! Do you suppose for a minute that you can cut faith and works in two and not end up with a corpse on your hands? Can’t you see that faith without good deeds is useless?

Wasn’t our ancestor Abraham “made right with God by works” when he placed his son Isaac on the sacrificial altar? Isn’t it obvious that faith and works are yoked partners, that faith expresses itself in works? That the works are “works of faith”? You see, his faith and his actions worked together. His actions made his faith complete.

It’s that mesh of believing and acting that got Abraham named “God’s friend.”

Rahab the prostitute is another example. Wasn’t her action in hiding God’s spies and helping them escape—that seamless unity of believing and doing—what counted with God?

See, the very moment you separate body and spirit, you end up with a corpse.

Separate faith and works and you get the same thing: a dead corpse.

~Excerpt from chapter 2 of the Book of James, the Apostle of Jesus Christ. Translations NLT and MSG

All this violence has got me bothered

Posted on by Angela Madaha

I think it’s pretty ironic

That those of us never afflicted by violence

Are sick of it

And, you know, just so completely

Bothered.

Can the warring African countries just get it together,

Can South-siders just stop with the gun killing,

Can the drug addicted mothers stop prostituting and abusing their children,

Can a couple of rogue cops stop making America look so bad,

Can the Syrians just figure it out and stay where they are,

Because right now we are just too

Bothered.

Of the pain.

The discomfort and struggle

Of hearing of loss,

Of seeing people shot,

Of watching bombs destroy

So uncomfortable

From our stadium leather seats at the nightly news theater.

Right now we can’t have any peace

Because we are so disturbed by observing the gladiator games

From the sidelines.

So Bothered.

All of a sudden the world started mattering to us

When our presumed perimeters ceased feeling safe

So we must simply build higher walls

To protect the pure race

Bullet-proof, noise-silencer, eye-censored

To make sure we aren’t so

Bothered.

We say, “Oh dear Lord Jesus come!”

And they say, “Oh won’t someone come!”

And Jesus says, “I’ve told them to come.”

When the privilege of safety and freedom

Becomes a defensive weapon, then we create

Privilege.

When the privilege of family sleeping well and full in our homes

Becomes a guarded, unshared right, then we create

Privilege.

One privilege a blessing, the other Privilege a curse.

For cursed is the one whose walls are bigger than their tables.

For many of us, though, who sit in a safe middle

The “kinda sorta maybe that’s not right” crowd

Need an outlet to be proud

Of joining an action-less word-fight against evil.

Because, of course, we can’t be outright distant

That would be criminal.

So we create taglines of mercy

#heartbrokenforParis, #prayforOrlando, #SyrianRefugeeCrisis

#Furguson #PhilandoCastile #PrayforCharleston

Mere empty gifts of windy sympathy.

Real compassion requires loss

Each action a cross, your soul sacrifice

Because a heart broken is more than a token word spoken

In a digital press of unaccountability.

So keep hating the pain you don’t even feel

Keep decrying the bombs that don’t shake your home

Cover your eyes and ears

And pray for the Lord to come

And safe passage into heaven.

Where thank God we won’t be so

Bothered.

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So now what?

We all typically have 2 kinds of resources:

Time.

Money.

Both require sacrifice when it’s used outside of our own wants and needs. But to not use either speaks louder than any hashtag. However, using one of your true resources will go a lot farther in partnering with Goodness in the fight against Evil.

Choose a cause. Choose your resource. Combine the two and incite some real movement and change.

Syrian Refugee Crisis

World Relief – They have Good Neighbor programs and other refugee assistance opportunities that I’ve seen to truly make a difference and help hurting people. http://www.worldrelief.org/refugee-crisis

Read: Seeking Refuge: On the shores of the Global Refugee Crisis by Stephan Bauman

Police brutality and Black Lives Matter

Unless our public servants are held accountable to same laws and repercussions of justice as each citizen is, then our justice system will continue to silently encourage the mistreatment and killing of our black brothers and sisters.

Equal Justice Initiative is doing excellent work to defend the lives of innocent black lives and to change the injustice within the legal system. http://eji.org/

Also, google “Protest police brutality in [your city]” or just ask one of your black friends how they think you should go about protesting in the community.

Read: Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson

Violence, poverty, and unemployment

Poverty is complex. Which is why it takes many perspectives and intellect to solve one problem at a time, empower one person at a time.

Compassion – They sponsor children to break the cycle of poverty and give communities new opportunities. http://www.compassion.com/

World Vision – They do development around the world to give fresh water, sponsor children, create jobs, and develop communities. http://www.worldvision.org/our-work

Entrenuity is a Chicago-based entrepreneurship program that helps minorities and disadvantaged start businesses and rebuild local economies. http://www.entrenuity.com/

Read: When Helping Hurts by Steve Corbett

Watch: The Hidden Reason For Poverty The World Needs To Address Now, TED talk by Gary Haugan

Human trafficking

New research shows that 47 million people are enslaved today. That’s outrageous given the fact that slavery is illegal globally. While still gaining awareness momentum, most cities, states and countries have non-profits combating this atrocity.

International Justice Mission – The largest anti-slavery organization in the world. https://www.ijm.org/

Not For Sale – Works in the US and global communities to end trafficking and also assist in job readiness and business development. https://www.notforsalecampaign.org/

Read – God in a Brothel by Daniel Walker

Watch – Nefarious Merchant of Souls, exposing the disturbing trends of modern-day sex slavery

Impossible beauty from volcanic ashes

Posted on by Angela Madaha

Beauty from ashes

I have a hard time grasping the reality of the phrase, “He makes beauty from ashes.”

If you’ve been through the fire and all you really do see around you is ashes, then your soul feels burnt and deadened.

Seems to me that seasons of ashes can’t really coexist with beauty.

But then I had a very eye-opening encounter recently. And that happened in a place where there is only beauty, no ashes, surrounding me — Hawaii.

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Not to make you jealous or anything, but Hawaii has got to be hands-down the most spectacular, radiant, glorious place on earth. And it’s not just one kind of beauty; it’s a wide diversity of everything from white sandy beaches, to towering waves, to staggering cliffs, to brilliant coral reefs, to jungle forests, to commanding landscapes. And it all takes place in about 80 degrees of weather — all year round.

Now I know you want to go there, I loved my time there, and people all around the world talk about visiting there. This little, tiny speck in the Pacific Ocean has everyone a spectator and counting down the days until a live encounter.

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However, Hawaii wasn’t always paradise. During a short educational film we watched before going to Hanauma Bay to snorkel in the coral reef, I learned how the Hawaiian Islands actually came to be.

Beneath the surface of the islands is what is called a “hot spot.” If you remember anything from 7th grade Earth Science, you’ll recall that the Earth’s outer crust is made up of tectonic plates. Sometimes volcanos will form in the middle of a plate where magna rises until it erupts on the sea floor — this is the hot spot. The Hawaiian Islands were formed by such a hot spot occurring in the middle of the Pacific Plate. While the hot spot is fixed, the plate is moving. So, as the plate moved over the hot spot, one by one the string of islands were formed.

How utterly fascinating.

Volcanos produced islands.

Ashes scripted beauty.

Destruction prophesied redemption.

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I was thinking about this as I was snorkeling in Hanauma Bay. This particular bay was created from a volcanic explosion which created a crater and all the sediment from the destruction settled into the bay which made this perfect environment for a coral reef. And how beautiful the brightly colored coral fish were. And how perfect the sand and hot the sun.

What this nature story is telling is even deeper than first impressions (you know, the seemingly cliché “All things work together for good” stuff).

You see, this beautiful, perfect island was formed after time and time again of volcanic eruption. Again, and again, and again. The magma rising, the sediment building, volcanic bursts, and, after a long time, this paradise place started peeking out into the pacific ocean — much to it’s own surprise, I’m sure.

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But what about us?

Moving away from this paradise, let’s look at our own hell, our own volcanos, our own life explosions. I get it — life isn’t easy, there’s hard times, there will be pain, and somehow we become better people through it.

But what really irks me is the “Really? Again??”

When your own history repeats itself. When you can’t shake the despairs of the past. When you think you’ve healed and then something seemingly minor (or major) triggers something too deep in your mind and emotions, and it’s the same story, like nothing has changed.

The magna rises.

The sediment builds.

When pain comes steamrolling through your door, it’s not just dealing with that pain. It’s having to relive all the other ones that happened previously. People may say, directly or indirectly, “Ok, let’s heal already. It’s time to move on,” because they can only see that isolated experience. When someone has deep wounds and scars, it’s literally harder to move on each time because you have to relive each previous one and they stack up uncaringly. Now it’s not just getting over this pain; it’s getting over 2, or 5, or 10. It keeps building up. Each time it gets harder, and more seemingly impossible. And I think, “I can’t take one more thing, go through this experience one more time.” The future is terrifying, because the choice to live is this risk, and full expectation, that this just may happen again. Some way or another.

The magna rises

The sediment builds.

I think of friends who are going through deep waters, trials that keep repeating so much it hurts my heart. A beautiful couple and good friends of mine who have recurring pregnancy loss and have gone through the loss of 5 babies already. Another friend who lost her mom to cancer as a child, lost her dad to cancer in the past year, and now received the news that her fiancé at age 26 is diagnosed with cancer just 3 months before their wedding. My aunt who lost her dad to a car accident years ago, and then her 3 month old grandson 5 years ago, and how her own 30 year old son several months ago.

It’s not just the one time. It’s the repetition. Over and over and over again.

Once again.

The magna rises.

The sediment builds.

I felt resilient years ago. Obstacles and hurts didn’t have much of a past behind it, so I was able to jump back pretty quickly. But each deep hurt is like losing a limb. Go through it once, and sure, you can keep walking ahead. But 3-4 times? All you can do is lay limb-less on the ground with hardly the will to live again.

And we all have those, “Again, God??” moments. When will I ever learn that living and loving means losing everything? How in the world am I supposed to help other people when I’m incapable of controlling myself when I am at my weakest point? I can’t even think or accomplish things. I can’t even communicate with God. God, I can’t. I can’t. I have nothing to offer. I’m lost.

The magna rises.

The sediment builds.

And then…

What is that, peeking through the surface?

Is that something green, something alive, something …. beautiful?

Can’t be. Because I know that all there was before was destruction and ashes.

But something’s rising, something … new. Totally new. Shockingly new.

What once was a calm sea is now this attention-drawing island. And with such variety. Depth. Creativity.

The magna rose.

The sediment built.

And paradise bloomed.

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That corner of the ocean would never be the same again.

And that’s the hard part too. We can’t ever go back. Ever. After all the things that we have gone through, we cannot reach back into the past and regain our innocence, the times of a simpler life, the heart that is unshattered.

You see, God’s not creating the next better version of the Pacific Ocean. He’s actually building a whole new island.

He doesn’t make things better. But he does make things new.

Because that’s what love does.

New things

This ocean would never be the same. It had to accept the change. It lost one thing to gain another. Redemption is actually written into creation.

And what’s incredible about Hawaii? I get to enjoy this because something a long time ago went through fire and destruction. And it turned into something beautiful that continues to give and attract people from all over the world.

Because beautiful things will attract attention. And every beautiful thing has a past that includes a lot of ashes.

I think … I think … I want to be like Hawaii.

And I think …. that has been God’s plan all along. But there comes a time of agreement, of “yes and amen.”

That means, though, I have to embrace the trial and fire and heat and hurt and pain. It’s part of the process, the journey, the sanctification.

When it’s all said and done, when something new is starting to burst out, the point isn’t what I lost. The point is what I gain. By losing what I had, by losing my claims to my life, I gain a new one, a fuller one.

Only Love can come up with a story like that.

Inside the lava-like fire are hurts and pains that we don’t understand or think we really deserved. Yet we recognize it. We receive it. And we proclaim “Amen”. In that seed planted, we in turn receive a harvest of righteousness.

And so our life becomes an island alleluia.

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To read more of the stories of my friends I mentioned above who are going through difficult but beautiful stories, read their blogs below:

Lindsay And David Blair – My Journey With Recurring Pregnancy Loss http://lindsayablair.com/2016/02/12/my-journey-with-rpl/

Bobbie and Ray – Neatly Wrapped Packages  https://jeanbobbi.wordpress.com/2016/02/18/neatly-wrapped-packages/ 

Since When Was It All About The Results? Do Good And Love Well Anyway.

Posted on by Angela Madaha

mother-teresaPeople are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered. Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.

If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies. Succeed anyway.

If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you. Be honest and sincere anyway.

What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight. Create anyway.

If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous. Be happy anyway.

The good you do today, will often be forgotten. Do good anyway.

Give the best you have, and it will never be enough. Give your best anyway.

In the final analysis, it is between you and God. It was never between you and them anyway.

These words are credited to Mother Teresa and this is the version found written on the wall in Mother Teresa’s home for children in Calcutta.

This is so simple. So clear.

No matter what. Let’s do good and love well.

Anyway.

And there’s no way that this is easy.

Personally, during the past year or two I feel like I have run into walls depicting each of these phrases.

People, life is hard. At each and every point of goodness that you sincerely work towards, there is an equal or greater amount of resistance.

And sometimes you are knocked down and beaten.

It’s so unfair.

But — it doesn’t matter.

Do it anyway. Learn, adapt, and lean into the hard things with purpose and hope that sees beyond the small world that others project over you.

Can I give you hope is a weirdly honest way? These things are going to happen, no matter what. No matter how pure your intentions are, no matter how good of a person you are, no matter how wonderful of a cause you are pursuing.

But here’s the cool thing. Only movement instigates opposition.

Opposition is actually proving that you are doing worthwhile things.

Are there boundaries around movement? Of course. Evil actions will also face opposition eventually. But we must constantly test ourselves and our hearts against the law of love: is this pure, healthy, right, true, good, excellent and honorable?

If yes, then think on those things, and what you think on you become. And what you become you do. And what you do proves who you are.

So let’s keep moving forward and tell opposition that it can pick a fight with us as much as it wants. We’re already promised the victory.

The Pain of Betrayal

Posted on by Angela Madaha

In being vulnerable, we reach for our greatest need while risking our greatest pain.” -Danny Silk.

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No one likes talking about pain. Especially their own pain.

And I am no exception.

We live in a world where pain is weakness and strength is ultimate.

While I worked in the fitness industry, everyone that came through my gym doors had every intention to become stronger, fitter, and, more often than not, to go through a complete transformation to become the strong conqueror they know they can be.

Unfortunately, though, a huge percentage of those that begin with all good intentions to get there never actually change, never reach their potential, never truly become strong.

Why?

Because they refused to face the pain.

At one point they decided the pain wasn’t worth the change. So what happened? They walk away from reality, that they are at risk of heart disease, that they are vastly overweight, that they will die years early because of bad nutrition and no exercise, and the really harsh reality that the pain they’re running from is minimal compared to the future pain that will destroy them in the end.

It’s only an example, but somehow it draws a good parallelism to other deeper, emotional pains that we face every day.

Certain pains hurt more than others. I’ve had my own fair share of pain in my life and recently I’ve been on my own journey through pain, not away from it.

And that is the pain of betrayal.

being betrayed, cheated, lied to, disgraced, used.

Of all pains in the world, it’s hard to imagine one much worse than the absolute agony of betrayal. Suddenly it changes your whole reality, realizing that you were living in a dream of lies and deceit and actually believed it. It goes deep down into your identity and challenges everything you thought you were and who you were affirmed to be.

I’m going to share my experience and journey not because I want to. I would gladly love to bury it and move on, only referring to it now and then when it becomes necessary to, and only when I have completely come out of the other end all strong and understanding.

As I’ve lived the nightmare of this pain, I’ve realized that, first of all, it’s a process and you can’t run from it and expect to be “OK” the rest of your life. I’ve found the process starts with accepting Reality, entering the Pain, searching for the Escape, and the decision of Living.

Accepting The Reality

I was in a relationship that was discovered in such a fun but authentic way. I got to express who I was outside of work (which at that point took over most of my life), develop a friendship that naturally turned into a deeper relationship. We connected on all levels and were oddly similar. It wasn’t fast-paced, but initially slow and methodical. I thought and prayed through it so much. I don’t take any relationships lightly and this wasn’t an exception.

He pursued me, I responded gladly, and the reality? I was so very happy. I had so much fun. I had learned so much about the choices and self-sacrifices of love and now got to live it out in a way I’ve never gotten to before. It felt good, real, satisfying, and honestly I couldn’t remembering being happier in my life with another person. He treated me special, called me his angel, affirmed who I was, made me laugh, made my days worth living.

But then I came to realize…that wasn’t reality. And that dream world all came crashing down on me when his ex-girlfriend texted me in the middle of the night from his phone telling me that, as she just also realized, there was 2 of us. And, as I came to find out in the next day, it had always been that way. From the first day we met until the day I found out, it had been 2 stories completely hid from each other.

Reality?

It was all a lie.

Reality all of a sudden destroyed me. It punched me in the gut, stabbed my heart, sucked my breath away, and numbed my mind. That Friday I couldn’t even feel, much less actually cry. So paralyzing.

It’s at times like those that eventually you have to look in the mirror and realize that you indeed were that girl. The girl I never wanted to be and thought I could avoid. The girl that fell for the guy I had advised against to my friends and girls I had worked with. I was the used one, simply a tool in his game.

And reality was the last thing I wanted to face. I immediately wanted to run, hide, pretend. Pretend that it really wasn’t that bad.

Pretend that it I hadn’t really liked him and chosen to love him.

Pretend that I’m strong enough to get through this.

Pretend that what he did wasn’t really that bad and that he’s just a flawed person just as much as I am and that the good Christian thing to do is forgive and be friends again.

Reality was much harder to face. The reality that he had lied about everything, so much so that I still don’t know what was truth and what was real. The reality that I was deeply hurt and seriously wounded. The reality that when we first started seeing each other I had even written my dad and told him that I knew that this guy would never intentionally hurt me– and, ironically, that was exactly what he did.

The reality that this was not only intentional, but also flagrant and totally personal, that I wasn’t worth it. And also, to push the knife in a little further, I was the extra one. I really wasn’t the wanted one, the loved one. And the pain that it hurt so much.

The reality was that I had been cheated on, that I was betrayed.

And I had to accept it.

Entering The Pain

As if dealing with reality wasn’t hard enough, that was only the spring board for the pain to follow.

The pain that I lived under lies, believed them, and then realized none of it was true.

The pain of seeing text messages he sent to his ex while he was literally with me that was degrading not only me, but also my family. Of all the pain, this was the worst. The very things he said he loved about me he used to discredit me and used to claim that he really could care less about me.

All of a sudden my entire life changed and I began seeing everything in relation to my pain. “How are you?” people would ask. I wanted to reply, “Hm, on a scale of 1 to I-want-to-impale-myself-with-a-knife, I would say today has been a 5, so a pretty good day actually!”

There was pain that I wasn’t completely present, that I lost total connection with people, that I was suddenly fake. I’ve always chosen to be a confident person, but in a split second that Friday I lost all confidence. Completely. For the first time in my life I truly didn’t believe in myself anymore. I thought I had been so right about him, about my life during those months, but I’ve never been so wrong in my life before. How could I believe myself again?

Now everything was challenged. Every person, every situation. My filter used to be truth, but now it was all lies.

He said he never even talked to his ex. He called and texted her how much he loved her daily.

He said he wanted to be with me. He never had any intention of being with me.

He said he loved my confidence. He actually believed I was socially impaired and the most naive person he’s ever met.

He said I was beautiful. I must not be beautiful.

He said I am going to be great things. I must not be able to do great things.

Other people have affirmed talents and strengths about me. Those things must not be true either.

I believed goodness about so many people. People probably aren’t good and probably are hiding something.

Unfortunately lies make a human most unlike a human than any other sin. It totally destroys people, hope, love, belief, faith and trust.

I’ve always been a trusting, believing person. Now I was second-guessing everyone. “Do you really like me as a person, or do you just plan to use me to get what you want?” And I hate that. It hurt that those thoughts were (are) even crossing my mind frequently.

It hurt that love seemingly turned on me. That it was all in vain. Again. I had given so much and it was just used and easily discarded.

And I was so angry. I’ve never experienced anger like that before. What a benefit I worked at a kickboxing gym. Hashtag therapy.

Was I angry at God? No, not really. I mean, he was and has been the only faithful one. Truly. He received me back with open arms even after this huge mess-up, after making my own wrong choices and allowing my beliefs about truth and God to be challenged as “maybe not exactly true.” But what I couldn’t get past was “God, it seems like I keep giving and loving, and I never get anything back in return. All I ever get is heartache.”

Searching for an Escape

The problem with accepting reality and then choosing to deal with the pain that follows is that inevitably you want to escape. It’s just too much, too strong, too hard.

I wanted to escape the reality, the pain, and living in light of what had just happened. I considered not even telling details to my closest friends, the ones who have been there for me my whole life. I wanted to cover the most hurtful details, swear him off as totally meaningless to me now, and bear my own issues alone. Because the thought of being vulnerable seemed much more painful then dealing with it by myself. Many of you reading this will be shocked– “I had no idea you were going through this!” Exactly. Transparency is really hard and painful.

Unfortunately (but fortunately) my job itself was totally personal and I saw dozens of people every day who knew the ins and outs of my life. My members were my friends and naturally when I talked about a relationship I’m in they follow-up with questions. And because I’ve practiced transparency for years now, I couldn’t hide it. I couldn’t become the liar that I had just been abused by.

“Yeah, we’re not seeing each other anymore. Why? Um, well it didn’t end so well. Yeah, he was hiding stuff from me. Cheating? Yes, yes I was cheated on. Yeah…the whole time. I had no idea. I’m, um, honestly not doing well. I’m really really angry. I’d like to take a baseball bat through a glass factory. I’ve never gone through something like this, only with other friends’ issues. Never thought it would happen to me. Yeah, I’m sorry it happened too.”

It’s amazing how healing it is just taking a minute to be transparent with someone who actually cares about you, like aloe on a sunburn. Aloe doesn’t just soothe a wound; it actually reaches into the skin and pulls out damage.

So a lesson I learned: the moment I feel like I need to hide, that’s the very moment when I need to release and open up. It’s for my journey of healing as well as for someone else, because more often than not, I surprisingly found, each time I shared even just a small bit of my experience, I got the “Me too!” reaction.

And there’s nothing better than knowing that you’re not alone.

Often, though, talking about it wasn’t enough. I was overwhelmed over and over by my own mind, the memories, the choices, figuring out what really happened, wondering what was my own fault, feeling shame about my own choices, feeling guilty about allowing myself to be deceived.

I wanted to escape and often I couldn’t. Working long hours became a relief. Anything to keep my mind preoccupied. But it was those moments when I finally had to be still and lay in my bed and try to fall asleep, I was assailed. Some nights I slept, some nights I didn’t. I’ll never forget this one particular terrible week where the pain was relentless, unbelievably intense, and non-stopping. My mind felt like it was under siege. It was the first time I’ve experienced panic attacks. I couldn’t get him and the experiences out of my head. I would make me short of breath, nauseous, and sometimes shaky.

I would do anything to escape.

And that’s when I realized, “Oh, this is why people get addicted to alcohol, drugs and contemplate suicide. Gotcha.”

That’s when I realized that those with the most pain are the ones that are the most extreme in their escaping, i.e., addictions.

Do not ever judge someone and think that you would never succumb to an addiction like they have. Many are simply trying to silence the pain, though unsuccessfully. Drugs, pain killers, pills, alcohol, work, money, sex, fitness… you name it. What you think you have under control one day may actually become your addiction and escape tomorrow.

I learned a lot about habits. Because when you are suddenly cast into pain and hurt, you will naturally turn to what you’ve made a habit in the past. What did I do? Well, those evenings and free time when my mind was assaulting me, I reached for what I had access to in that moment: my Bible app. Earbuds in, I’d listen to one book after another from the Bible.

Now before you start thinking how epically spiritual this was, let me assure you that in the moment it was not really what I wanted to do, and it seemed each verse was punctuated with my own swear word. The Bible… it seemed too simple and cliche. But honestly, this is something I had made a habit doing since I was a teenager, reading the Bible, turning to the Bible in the good and bad. I’ve experienced healing in the past from it– I know it works. So because it had been a past habit, it was easily accessible, and it was free, I went to it.

And you know what? That was the only escape that worked for me. Work didn’t solve it. Friend and relationships didn’t solve it. But the truly healing power of God’s words did. It was the only thing that put me to sleep during those dark, depressing nights.

You know what I think people, especially women, also turn to for escape?

Forgiving.

Hear me out.

Somehow in the name of “forgiveness” we look at someone’s choices, sins, and actions, and instead of dealing with it, accepting reality and the pain, we decide to simply forgive it and “forget.” And it feels righteous and good because now I’m such a good person to see someone’s mistakes and sins, and still forgive them without any action or boundary-setting despite that.

That is not love, and it would be unloving of me not to say that. Sometimes we believe we love someone so much that we can forgive anything, but in reality it’s a selfish way of dealing with our own insecurities.

For instance, I had a friend who, in the name of love, decided to “forgive” her boyfriend for repeated instances of terrible physical abuse, would not turn him into the police, and ended up going back to live with him. An extreme example, but do we not all do that in our own lives? Instead of facing the objective reality and loving ourselves and them enough to walk away, we decide to be the ultimate judge and be the one that releases them and changes them. If you’re going to be committed to love, then you must also be just as committed to justice and boundary-setting. You cannot have one without the other. I believe that in each circumstance you must be led by love, grace, and justice. 

Speaking to those who are in some sort of abusive or manipulative relationship, don’t make forgiveness an escape, but rather a means of healing for yourself. True forgiveness is for your benefit. And don’t let someone you’re in a relationship with talk you into forgiving them and staying with them because that would be the righteous, good thing, and you’re a good person, aren’t you? You’re the most good person I know. So please forgive me and let’s stay together. I need you and you don’t want to live with the regret of not forgiving me. God wouldn’t do that. I mean, you’re not perfect either, so you walking away from this relationship would be saying that you’re better than me, which you know you’re not. Don’t be judgmental like all those fake Christians out there; you’re actually the most real, authentic person I know. I’m working on me and God has totally convicted me and I want to change. Let’s even go to church. Please don’t leave me? Wow, I don’t deserve someone like you. You’re so forgiving.

How manipulating and abusive. Believe me, I know. I’ve seen it and lived in it enough. Forgiveness is never a tool to cover up your faults and to escape from the reality and responsibility. You have to deal with it. Yes, anything can be forgiven, but someone else’s choices are never under your control. And whether or not you forgive someone should never be dependent on that person changing. If this is something you’re running in circles with, please email me if you need someone to talk with about it: ajack362@gmail.com

I had to deal with my insecurities and decide how to “escape.” I could’ve turned to other escapes and I’m sure people may have said, “Well, that’s understandable.” But you know, in the end, I really didn’t want to simply escape.

I wanted to live.

The Decision of Living

It’s now been about 9 months since I began writing this post. I would try to sit down and write, but often would end up dissolving into tears, burying my face in my hands, feel like throwing up, then closing the laptop and walking away. It’s just so hard.

Especially this section. I’m supposed to write about “How To Live Life After Being Misused And Betrayed.”

Right.

I could fill up the rest of this space with cliche phrases and quotes from several OneRepublic songs. Actually a Carrie Underwood song comes to mind about someone’s suped-up 4-wheel drive, but come on, let’s be adults here.

Part of living forward is dealing with struggles daily, struggles that are compounded because they’ve never hit you so intensely before. This is what I and those that have been betrayed deal with:

Major insecurity– When you’re deeply invested in someone who you deeply trust and then they betray it and choose someone over you, it’s very personal. Insecurity is simply a daily battle you have to deal with. Don’t try to fix those of us who have gone through this, but walk with us into truth and freedom. Just listening is helpful.

Shame– Because when you have been in the direct line of fire with someone else’s shameful actions, you have at some point believed in them, thus deceived into their shameful decisions. So you start bearing their shame. And typically narcissistic people will blame you and dump all shame and guilt on you. It’s a terrible mental war.

Anger– This ranges from anger to the person, to yourself, to others who may reveal characteristics that reflect the person that hurt you.

Lying– How ironic that after you deal with the anger at all the lies, the very thing you want to do is lie about yourself, the situation, everything. Unknowingly you can become the person that hurt you the most.

Running Away– Not that this is you by nature, but because you’ve had to leave and run from this relationship, it becomes a knee-jerk reaction to relationships that give you flashbacks to your experience.

Self protection– Since he didn’t protect you, you have to be the one that protects yourself. You never want to be hurt like that again, so you imagine ways to set up walls and not ever be risky in relationships.

Loving and Accepting Love– It’s a double-edged sword. Not only are you afraid to open up your heart to love deeply, but accepting love again seems to be impossible, that it will probably be misused.

That’s a scary, rather intimidating list. But that’s the reality, when no one is around, when you only have your thoughts and memories accompanying you.

Those things that we feel, those are very real. It’s no use pretending that I’m somehow excused from it. We need to be transparent. Please, let’s be real.

But reality is also looking outside of yourself, to see truth. Truth that is greater than your pain, greater than your past, your pain, your shame, your misuse.

Your life is a story. And this chapter is now part of it. You cannot erase it. Yet it does not define you, but you choose how you define it.

So it’s not necessarily about becoming a good-doer and inspirational Pinterest pinner, but how you will allow this negative turn in your life to be redeemed.

We’re not talking about silver linings or being positive about the whole thing. What happened to me sucked and it was horrible. I’m still not over it and I will forever have a scar. The thought of dating is rather terrifying and so is loving people in general.

But I’m going to show my scar with defiant purpose and tell you what role it plays in my life, and NOT the other way around.

You see, for me to let what happened to continue to be “what happened to me”, then I will always be a victim to my past.

However, I get the opportunity in life to stop hiding my scars, expose them, and tell everyone what it was and how it’s being redeemed in my life.

For me, that looks like giving my life into sharing hope with street prostitutes, abused women, drug addicts, sex slaves, and the broken ones of Chicago, my city.

Though I may not have a total understanding of each circumstance they’re in, I “get” it. I get the feelings of rejection, the pain from deep emotional wounds, the craving for escape.

Something else I had to realize was that although I had lived under lies, I was honest and truthful the whole time and my choices and love were authentic. Just because someone else misused you doesn’t make you fake. What someone else does or says to you says everything about them, not about you. At the end of the day, though I may have made poor or misguided choices, I know that I was honest. I know that I repeatedly said, “My loving you has nothing to do with you, but it’s about me and my choice. Since when did my loving you have anything to do with how you treat me?”

Yet as I came to learn, love also looks like walking away and setting boundaries. But the love is still real, still authentic.

I’m not fixed up yet and I still have meltdowns. But I think that’s the beauty of redemption, that you can be a channel of hope when you’re seeking after it just as much as the one you’re offering it to.

I think we need more people that stop hiding their scars and start finding other people with similar scars and start walking through life together.

Remember: there is nothing to be ashamed of.

You are free from guilt.

Thank God for Jesus, because he bore than pain so that I could be set free to allow my story to be redeemed.

Things might not get better anytime soon. But in giving hope you receive that in return. It’s a step of faith, because you know the truth, and you choose to walk out in faith to share the truth.

And you know what? The truth will set you free.

You were made for more. Think about your story, your whole life, and imagine the line of your story continuing 20, 30, 50 years down the road. The pain you have today TOTALLY has purpose. It will affect and change not just your life, but also those involved in your story every single step of the way.

It’s your choice. It’s your perspective. You were made to take the heat, and to then transfer it into warmth for the broken around you. And then… get ready to receive. Good things ahead. Keep the vision.

Don’t forget your purpose.

All Things For Good

Posted on by Angela Madaha

Have you heard these words before?

“All things work together for good.”

It’s a phrase from the Bible. Something I’m sure you’ve read or heard spoken to you at one point or another, especially living in the buckle of the Bible belt.

But let’s get real about this.

Offensive words! Who would dare repeat that phrase after truly encountering the searing pain of this life? Is this really a reality? or a cruel, well-wishing joke?

that one phrase. the most heart wrenching battle to believe, to really accept.

We wouldn’t dare say we don’t believe that God is good, and we’re sure deep down at some point he has good for us. But to honestly take this whole phrase to heart?? Some situations there is just no realistic good about it.

So it’s either the most unrealistic admonition. or the most wondrous freeing truth.

How can it be, though? Surely, some things. but not all things. Right?

all things for good.

Lost job. Not able to pay bills. Car wrecked. House foreclosed.

all things for good.

Abused. Used. Sexual explotation. Selfish manipulations.

all things for good.

Failed marriage. Victim of crime. Slanderous words spoken against you. Slander you spoke to another.

all things for good. 

Stolen from. You stole. Lies you lived under and believed innocently. Lies you lived and spoke intentionally.

all things for good.

You were cheated on. You were the cheater. Got pregnant. Can’t get pregnant.

all things for good.

Your friend was killed. You tested positive for cancer. Your engagement broke off. She said no.

all things for good.

Because all things means all things. 

Yes, all things. Really too good to be true. Because the Gospel is the too good to be true truth.

And He makes beautiful things out of dust, out of rejected messes, out of dysfunctional, out of utter disrepair, out of uncontrolled emotional despair.

He makes all things new.

The rights renewed. The wrongs renewed. The intentional sins. The unforeseen disaster.

All of it.

And he is the only one that can. Because no one has the strength of love he has. You can’t surpass his love. You can’t break the tide, reach the depth.

Are you his child? He will make all things new. You want him to make all things new? Become his child. Be redeemed in his love. It’s his love that draws you to repentance, not the shame and guilt and repetition of your mess-ups or someone else’s.

And let me make one thing very clear: As his child you are not just some starry-eyed well-wisher who blindly states the positive of every situation just because silver linings sound cheery. You are a beaten, bruised worn soul who with eyes blurred by tears crawls through the present muck and raises your hands with hope undeferred yet faith feeble and cries with trembling wounded voice, “All things work together for good for those who love God! And I — I am one of those.”

Because you know who he is. Because once you meet him no other love will compare and your life is now wrecked to future lovers. Because he is the only one who has been completely faithful to you.

And his love has forever changed your eyes so that they look at the sinking mess that you’re dwelling in yet they see God, they see his love, and you have hope that doesn’t make sense, that defies logic, shaking your fist in the face of pain and the shame of it. That others wish they had but they can’t until they’ve encountered the Love you have.

That, my friends, is the reality of all things for your good. You cannot reckon with the force of his love so lay down and worship. And accept his love. Or otherwise you will be overcome by the world and it’s pain and the terrors of people and of your own flirting fleeting heart.

Becaus once he is in your heart, greater is he that is in you that whatever is in the world. On your own there are no lasting victories, but in his love you are more than a victor, more than a conqueror, more than 100 Medals of Honor, more than the greatest warriors in history.

And there are warriors, there are great and mighty victors, there are those that are more than the greatest of conquerors.

And then there’s you.

More than all those. and his child in love.

And being in love is not a feeling. It is a position. A reality. A victory. And that is the kind of victory you have in his love. And you have yet to own it, to realize it, to live world changing life. Because before the world can be changed you must first be.

And being in love, living in love, bound up in it, is the only reality that is true and safe and comforting. He offers it, with kind eyes and tender hands. Can you see it?

Never, ever love

Posted on by Angela Madaha

While I scrolled through my Facebook newsfeed last week this post caught my attention:

“Never get too attached to someone because attachments lead to expectations, and expectations lead to disappointment.” 

How did she know what I was struggling with for the past days and weeks? Of course, it all makes perfect sense, doesn’t it? Especially in my life. It’s tale as old as time. I move somewhere new, make new friends, become attached, share my heart, listen to their heart, reveal my dreams, help make their dreams come true…

and then like *that*, it’s all gone. Circumstances have moved us apart either relationally or geographically or both. No more person, connection, fun. Only memories now.

For real? I did it again.

I loved.

I fell for it once again.

I gave my heart, opened the secret doors of my soul, thought perhaps, “Ah, now, finally. Somebody that will be here for me who I can also be there for. I’ve found a safe place. I’m so happy. This will never end.”

But it does end. again. and again. and again.

And I suffer. I want to give up, run away, bury my pain. Yet each time thereafter I only seem to learn to love harder and deeper and then, of course, the suffering only gets worse.

When will I ever learn? When will I learn that attachment and love lead to expectations which ultimately lead to disappointment?

I mean, really, what kind of expectations are we talking about here? Were my expectations for self gain and personal advancement? that I wanted everything only for myself? No, I really do love people and absolutely feel so fulfilled and in love when I can help them succeed. What’s so wrong with that?

And then I think of stories of those around me and combined the questions get harder. These are difficult stories, difficult questions, both yours and mine. What did we expect when we decided to love? “that my church would continue to bless and change the city and be my family instead of abruptly closing? that perhaps my 3 month old son would outlive me instead of dying in his sleep? that my boss would affirm me instead of deal me verbal abuse? that my friend I brought to live with me to help would appreciate me instead of taking advantage of my house and generosity? that my 19 year old brother with a heart for the needy in depraved nations would live to spread the kingdom there instead of dying of cancer? that my boyfriend would keep to the dreams we had together instead of leaving me and dating another girl within a few months? that the guy I respected and learned to love would take care of me in our relationship and protect me instead of raping me and abusing me in total isolation? that my marriage we both committed to would last wonderfully forever instead of falling to pieces in front of my family, friends and children?”

Don’t even get me started with my list of disappointments with God. He could’ve stepped in, he could’ve saved the day, he could’ve redeemed, he could’ve healed. Isn’t that what he is? The Victor, Savior, Redeemer, Healer, Friend?  Were my expectations too much, God? Were they really evil? What do you want out of me? I thought that if I delighted myself in you then you would give me the desires of my heart? It seems all that happens to me is a lullaby of heart breaks.

Because that’s what love will do to you. It makes you feel. It moves and stirs in your heart until you explode and have to do something, anything about it. It’s real and actionary.

It’s totally unsafe. and has great expectations.

And sometimes those expectations don’t line up with reality. And then disappointment and heartache flood your life.

Because those that love most suffer most.

You want to escape pain and suffering and hurt and disappointment and tears and sobbing and sleepless nights and charred dreams?

Never, ever love.

Don’t ever give your heart away. Don’t take any risks. Never expect anything from anyone.

Be numb. Have no feelings. Close your heart. Lock the door. Throw away the key.

Because if you have no expectations, you can be sure to never get hurt, right?

Can you live like that? Yeah, neither can I. But it’s scary that I can easily talk myself into living a life like that by making small decisions moment by moment to cover my emotions and walk safely into relationships, making sure that I’ll get what I expect without hurting myself or the other person. I hate that and I declare I’m waging war on it.

Long story short, love is extremely risky, and, yes, the harder the love the harder the fall, but also the harder the joy.

Which is exactly why Jesus holds the ultimate record in both suffering and joy. Because he loves so so very much. Can you even imagine? Think of the worst tragedy you have gone through with a friend. It hurt so much because you loved that person so much. Now imagine Jesus taking every tragedy and sin and hurt and disappointment and guilt all at one time and experiencing it fully in every fiber of his being. No, it really is unimaginable. Yet he took on that suffering for the joy that was set before him. His extreme love led him directly into extreme suffering so that we wouldn’t have to ever be alone and that we could come out of the other side of love in extreme joy even through the suffering.

I want that love. The love that gives freely and, yes, even unconditionally. I’ve had to come to grips that I will love you, because I love you, because I love you, because I love you. Loving you has no condition and has nothing to do with how you treat me, what you think of me, if you stay in my life, if you date me, if you commit to me, if you reciprocate, if you affirm me, if you appreciate me. Jesus taught me that, by the way. And I want the joy he has. I’ve tasted it, and I know there’s suffering along the way, but I know the joy is worth it.

So there is a choice to love or not to love, but really, there is no choice. I simply cannot live and not love. I have my fights and struggles in it, and somehow I come out on the other end of it with revelations like this. And then I share them. which makes me accountable. Nice one, Angela.

So you’re afraid to love? Great, me too. Call your fear out, write it down, scream it out to God, ask a lot of whys, get really uncomfortable with your real thoughts. And then choose to walk into love in the midst of your fears, even if you feel like you’re drowning.

Or you can choose to never, ever love. and never, ever suffer. and never, ever enjoy anyone or anything.

Seems pretty safe (and terrible) to me.