love

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/ 

What Are We So Afraid Of?

Posted on by Angela Madaha

The Strength Of Safety

I’ve been learning a lot about being safe. Inside safe. Emotionally safe. Only allowing influencers in my life who don’t emotionally use me and take advantage of my weaknesses. Sometimes it may even come down to, “I care about you, but I’m not safe around you. I need to leave.”

I’ve realized how very important it is to set up boundaries, to decide who is allowed to have access to my heart and who isn’t. There’s a sense of purpose and power in that, that I have a say and have control over my spirit.

I have the ability to make decisions about who speaks into my spirit.

Here is the irony though about this kind of safety–

When I am the most emotionally safe, I can walk into the most unsafe circumstances and be secure. and strong. and untouched. Because the circumstances around me don’t affect my sense of security. Even the people around me don’t have power to determine my safety.

I have one heart and one spirit that God has given it to me to steward. In deciding who gets to be close to me, it allows me to grow in love, and thus grow in safety. The more love I have capacity for, the more safe I am. The more safe I am internally, the more I am able to live freely externally without fear. This is because someone’s treatment of me in response to my open life doesn’t determine my sense of security, for good or bad.

Those who are most loved are most safe. They are the ones that help others become safe and loved.

Love and safe

The Dark Side Of Fear

On the flip side, those who are the most in fear are the ones who feel the most unsafe. They are always on the lookout to protect their own safety.

I know this all too well. The amount of fear I battle seems unreal. Many times I’ve been crushed under the weight of feeling unsafe. In those moments I have to step back and consider, “Why am I afraid? What is causing me to be unsafe and feel like I have to protect myself?”

Sometimes it’s been a relationship. It’s someone who I allowed to speak into me who I didn’t have any boundaries with that expressed verbal or emotional misbehavior towards me. In the fear cycle, I often look inward and take the blame, afraid to lose the relationship, and then I become very powerless and try to find a way to protect myself, which normally means trying to control that person or the atmosphere.

Sometimes it’s been in the work place. I’m afraid of someone finding out my mistakes, so I try to hide while I make everything perfect and presentable. Because if someone finds out I don’t have it all together then they will think less of me and I’m not valuable.

Sometimes it’s been in the community. I drive through the “rough” part of town and see lots of homeless people and drug use around. I’m afraid of feeling emotional for these people or getting taken advantage of, so I avoid even eye-contact with them.

Sometimes it’s been a national threat. After 911 my fear was controlled by whether or not there was a mosque in my town or by being in a plane with someone with tanner skin than I.

You see, if I’m afraid of something, I become powerless and lose control over myself, feeling the need to fight for the safety I feel threatened that I may lose. Because I have no internal safety keeping me steady.

The Source Of Security and Insecurity

But where does internal safety come from?

Love.

Where does internal unsafety come from?

Fear.

You know how powerful love is? Those who are the most steeped in love have the ability to live in the most unsafe, hazardous places. Not that they all do, but the power that makes it possible lives within them.

Because those external circumstances have no access to their heart, their source.

So if love rules our souls, if God (who is love inherently) is ruling, and the people we let speak into our souls are also reinforcing that same love, I dare say, what can we not do?

We can be powerful. We can reach further out. We can do seemingly scary things.

Because love leads us, not fear.

Since when were we promised external safety?

Never.

We ought to be the first to love when we have the most to lose. Because we count everything as loss compared to living in love like Christ and knowing him.

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It’s hard, because usually we’re afraid of what we don’t understand. Like those of a different religion. Or those of a different sexual lifestyle. Or those of different economic circumstances. Or those of a different color. Of those of a different culture.

I’m in the business world. I work with business owners and get to watch their fears play out. Why is it that the owners are typically afraid of the measly lower level employees?

Because when employees make suggestions for change, it means that the owner may lose something. Change isn’t good. When you’re in a place of privilege, change is threatening. Change causes fear, afraid that your position will be removed, that the safety net of money, power, and control will crumble around you.

This is normal for those who have lived in privilege, which, compared to the rest of the world, would be middle class Americans. Change is always threatening when you’re at the top and have nowhere to go but down.

Why is it that the under-privileged are the most open to change? Because they have something to gain from it. Because when you’re at the bottom you have nowhere to go but up.

So what’s the point?

When we look to our circumstances, and laws, and nations, and officials to set our compass for safety, we will always be afraid. Because we’re not ever in complete control of them.

However, when we live in a place of love, there cannot be fear. And we can accept an unsafe world. We can walk into an unsafe atmosphere knowing that we have a power residing within us that cannot be shaken.

So that’s why I ask,

What are we so afraid of?

You know what tempts me to be afraid?

Not Muslims. Not refugees. Not mass shootings. Not pro-abortion laws. Not marriage redefinition laws. Not pimps. Not Ebola.

What I’m afraid of is spending my whole life creating a paper mâché fortress around me so that I can be protected against the external evils of this world, living internally in bondage, chained to my own fear.

I’m afraid of not ever loving.

I’m afraid of not ever risking.

I’m afraid of not ever once looking like the real Jesus.

Lord, this Christmas give me the heart that would have been one of the shepherds that received you into this world. You were not just not from this country; you were not even from this world. 

Why in the world would I jubilantly sing about accepting a helpless baby in a manger with one hand raised, while pushing away a vulnerable refugee with the other hand?

Maybe we haven’t really received the vulnerable child in the manger yet? Maybe we only want the Jesus who reigns in power and judgment over the evil in this world and not the Jesus who was a meek, helpless baby?

Would we be the Herods of this generation that destroy all that threaten our outward sense of safety, position and control?

Or would we be the ones that welcome, yet even prize, the weak and vulnerable? and accept even the miraculous— because, seriously, a virgin having a baby is seriously threatening to my religious sense of right, wrong and possible.

Jesus went through the whole process. He came from a different culture, he was a newborn exposed to animal mess in a barn, he with his parents were vulnerable refugees, he was a child, a student, an apprentice, a laborer, a leader, a sufferer, a convicted criminal, a dead man, a resurrected King.

He can relate with he most powerless and with the most powerful in this world.

He is our only model. His humility is the only way for us to live. His safety is our only confidence. His love is the only thing that empowers us to love.

And his truth trumps every other opinion.

Let’s not react in fear. Let’s not be like Peter. When he saw that Jesus was threatened in the garden (and actually, Jesus was going to be killed. Seriously. He ended up dying), Peter took out his sword and tried to kill the threat. If we Christians were Peter, we probably would have pull out our concealed weapon and defended Jesus, killing as many threats around us as possible. Because this life is all about being safe and saving our lives, right?

Jesus would be like, “What in the world do you think you’re doing? If you live by killing threats, you’ll die in the same way. If you want to gain your life, you’re going to have to lose it. Hey hey hey, Peter, you realize I’m here? You’re safe. You don’t need to be afraid and react. Stop trying to save me. You need to let me go die. Oh, and just as a heads up, one day when you are most loving me and most safe in my will, you’re going to die by crucifixion.”

This totally blows my mind. The Gospel life is so full of paradoxes that it can only be believed by faith. It’s not natural. But in the kingdom, it’s totally normal.

Is our safety determined by our circumstances? Or is our safety from within, untouched, strong and unmovable?

Maybe we can be the ones who set the standard of love, who live in soul-safety, and who walk into unsafe places and welcome the unsafe ones, loving them into the kingdom.

Abortion: Are We Actually Pursuing Justice Or Only Condemnation?

Posted on by Angela Madaha

As an open advocate of human rights, I absolutely stand in the gap for the babies that have been unjustly called fetuses when they are totally human, that some people see their organs as a means of gain when a real breathing human could have had those organs and went on to live a very productive life.

DeathtoStock_NotStock5However, to only cry out for babies rights and not for women’s rights or fight detrimental socioeconomic issues is very short-sighted.

I think it’s much easier to virtually stand against a “black and white” issue than to step into messy situations and complicated lives that set the stage for something like abortion to exist.

But let me back up first, before I throw my opinions and thoughts out there.

Because I know behind every issue is a story. A person. A face.

I want to be sensitive to friends, to women, who have had abortions.

To some, it was through a very difficult situation and to see your FB feed covered with abortion videos is to re-live terrible pain and trauma that many of your friends will never understand.

To you, friends, I have absolutely no judgement or shame to throw on you. You are, and always will be, accepted and loved.

It’s not a line that you may have heard before. Perhaps right now you only feel the weight of judgment and hurt. Perhaps you don’t know what you feel. But either way you know that to openly talk about it with your conservative friends would be to open yourself as a live target.

Let me assure you that Satan wants you to live under that lie, that you only have worth if you hide this part of your life from prying eyes.

No matter what anyone else says, you have no guilt, no fear, no shame under the blood of Jesus. He loves you no matter what you think of yourself or what other people think of you.

To everyone else, my friends, do you actually know someone who has had an abortion?

If not, that’s interesting because twenty-one percent of pregnancies in the United States end in abortion, according to the Guttmacher Institute*.

Outside of what the media says, do you know what issues set the stage for women to pursue abortion as the only viable option? Or do you just assume that it’s only people who don’t like children and are irresponsible?

Have you only listened to the 5 o’clock news, or have you sat down and humbly listened to the story of someone who has had an abortion to learn about what led them to that decision?

Do you think that there has ever been oppression, abuse, or deception surrounding some women at the time of their abortion?

Have you ever considered poverty or socioeconomic issues as a potential root?

How have you been a part of the solution to help women in desperate situations?

Do you so fiercely condemn people involved with abortion that you shut a door to hear your friend’s voice who would like to have someone listen to her story?

I don’t have the answers to all these questions, but I want to be sensitive to all lives and all stories, both babies and women, doing what I can to practically pursue justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with my God.

*Here’s an interesting article– it seems to have some solid research. http://www.vox.com/a/abortion-decision-statistics-opinions

Broken, But Not Destroyed

Posted on by Angela Madaha

I’ve been here one year, one whole year since moving to Chicago and totally starting over.

I came with a lot of hope, but inwardly carrying so much pain. So much pain from a betraying relationship in my personal life, and a verbally abusive power in my work life.

But even in my walk of hope into the future, in hopes away from the past, I had no idea the amount of resistance I was about to face.

You see, previously at one point in all my hope as I left to start a new season in my life, I thought I could do anything, accomplish whatever I set my heart on.

But instead of encouragement, I faced the betraying, abusive voices: “Who do you think you are?? What do you think you’re trying to do? You are nothing. You are completely unvaluable.”

The people of power and influence in my life had bullied my spirit almost into the ground.

I feel like I’ve lived with the humiliation of my hopes being dashed, and ashamed I was ashamed.

And yet– how can I say this– I knew.

I knew that I was supposed to step into a role of helping businesses be successful. I knew it was also time to partner with non-profits to build sustainable business models for them to help provide work opportunities for trafficked and abused women, to teach these beautiful women that they are more than their bodies, that they are full of potential and skills and opportunities within business.

This kind of work, this kind of “helping businesses” is otherwise known as consulting. And I thought this was it, this was my calling.

But the oppressive cloud hung over my head all year, and I couldn’t get the ridiculing, scoffing voices out.

“Who do you think you are? A consultant??”

At times this past year I have felt that all was lost.

I have had total meltdowns more than I care to recall.

I have felt like I’ve been on the verge of complete disaster continually.

I have faced very real injustice, betrayal, and brutal insensitivity.

I wanted to walk away. But I didn’t quit. I couldn’t quit— how can I explain it? I knew that I knew I was supposed to pursue this calling.

For so long I knew that God’s love was for me, and I was down with that. But I really didn’t think his justice applied to me.

Oh, but little did I realize that justice is love in action.

It’s really powerful love giving really powerful purpose. It’s hope wrapped in a gift.

It’s real. It’s received.

So.

Here it is. A kind way God has worked justice for me.

Today I started a job as a small business consultant for a reputable consulting firm in Chicago.

Who… me??

How was I to know that they would need a consultant that specializes in marketing and non-profits, which are both my favorites and my passions.

And folks, that’s when I knew that the only voice that matters is the one that created me.

Others can point and scoff and even in pious judgment say to God, “Who does she think she is??”

And he simply smiles and answers, “The best. The most awesome. The biggest world changer. You see, she’s with me.”

It brings to me to tears, that it all had a purpose, that following a very small seed of struggling faith was much bigger than any other opposition.

Sometimes it takes being broken to realize that you can’t be destroyed.

Broken

Thank God I’m Not Like Josh Duggar

Posted on by Angela Madaha

Dear God, thank you that I am not like Josh Duggar.

You and I both know that their strict, conservatism was a huge front to the realities of his and his family’s life.

He is now exposed for what he really is: a sinner.

A sinner living like he’s something righteous.

Well, God thank you that I am not like this hypocritical, self-righteous sinner. Not only would I never commit an act like that, but I would never be so religious and fake. I am the most un-fake person I know and can make pure judgments of others’ sincerity.

I hope that by me standing up for what’s right and shaming him and this fake Christian culture that you would be proud of me, that I am encouraging all people everywhere to be real and transparent. Since the Gospel cuts through truth and lies, I am so thankful that I can minister the Gospel by heaping shame on him and his family, because shame is what leads anyone to change.

It’s what he deserves. I hate people like that, judgmental people that act like they’re better than everyone else. At least I don’t act like I’m perfect. And because I don’t pretend like I’m perfect, then I have a right to announce all the hypocrisy of those who do pretend, even if I don’t know them. I can tell; I know these situations. I’m a really good judge of intent and character.

So God, I thank you I am not like this sinner, Josh Duggar. Thank you for all of your grace to me. It makes my life so much better. I’m glad I can receive it, unlike other sinners. In your name, Amen.

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It’s such an easy trap to fall into, the trap of merciless shame-dumping: The Judgement Zone.

I know this Judgment Zone because it’s my gut reaction to situations like this one, when really bad things happen to the vulnerable ones by people who claim to be “good.” I hear these very words in my head and start boiling with anger.

But here’s what I’ve realized about this Judgment Zone: when we live in the Judgment Zone and rally around sin to expose it, no matter how big or how little, here’s what we’re really preaching:

“No one is ever allowed to mess up. If you want to be included or wanted, you have to be perfect. Or at least my definition of perfect.”

And we put more and more distance between ourselves and our relationships and our community.

We hold up the banner of Josh Duggar’s mess and shout, “He must be punished! And he must be extra shamed because he was faking! And it’s our duty to exploit it, to make sure that everything is clear and ends up being perfectly fair.”

Because he is the only one that’s ever messed up or pretended that he was something he wasn’t.

Because he is too far gone to be shown mercy and grace.

Because he’s tearing down the name of goodness and God in our culture.

Actually what’s tearing down the fame of God in our culture is a total lack of love. We should be known for what we are for, not for what we are against. We should be known for our encouraging lives, not for our exploiting voices.

I am just as appalled at evil and injustice as you are. I’ve seen it up front and personal. When my friend was beaten and abused by her boyfriend for months and she escaped to my house. When my friend was raped and the courts wouldn’t believe her and the perpetrator goes free. When I lost all my work when my previous company took unjust legal action against me.

JusticeIt’s not cool. It shouldn’t go undone.

I absolutely want justice.

But justice without love, without hope, and without purpose is no justice at all. 

We all applaud turn-around stories of people who were living destructive lives and then have a major “come-to-Jesus” encounter where they do a 180 and totally change for good.

We feel good when we hear stories like that.

But who will stand in the gap for them? 

Who will be the first to say, “I forgive you. I want the best for your life. I offer you a safe place to be imperfect and go through your change”?

Jesus is such a good example of this. He’s the one who sought out the dirtiest, most rotten ones of society and said, “Follow me. Let me serve you. I make all things new.”

So now we can also can look at the ones with the most exposed, dirtiest deeds and say, “Come be with me. Let me serve you. We’re going to go with Christ and he makes all things new.”

This is for the broken ones. Rich or poor. Popular or outcast. Perpetrator or exploited.

When we live less than this, when we become judgmental of the judgmental, we raise walls of separation.

And those observing from the sidelines who need help are cowered into silence because if anyone knew what was really going on in their lives, they know they would be shamed and bullied into the dust just like this guy was.

So they live in quiet conflict, their secret lives sealed shut beneath the surface.

But we can only go so long before the reality of our issues come out. And I believe that a culture of authenticity and grace-covering imperfection can help all of us heal of stewing internal struggles.

I want 14 year old boys who struggle with pornography, sex addiction and an unhealthy view of women to know that there is a place and a people where they can go and open up about their imperfections and find loving help.

I want 40 year old crack-addicted prostitutes to know that there are people who love them and see them as the valuable, cherished women that they are and are willing to walk with them into healing.

I want the cheating husband with 3 kids to know that he doesn’t have to live a fake life anymore, that there is a place where he can come in his brokenness to find forgiveness and restoration.

This is called radical grace. 

Because sometimes some things seem completely unforgivable. It would just be too radical.

But to the broken ones, to the ones that see their helpless state, this radical grace is freely offered.

And we are the agents and communicators of that grace in our relationships and communities.

And if that abuser, that pimp, that cheater isn’t broken yet? Well, it’s not our place to shame and break them.

We make boundaries in our lives, we pursue proper justice through our legal system, but we don’t light shame fires.

Shame never induces change.

But mercy does.

How do I know this?

Because I am the one who has received this kind of radical grace and unbelievable mercy.

And if I can’t give back what I have received, did I ever truly receive it in the first place?

Honest Confessions About Being Poor

Posted on by Angela Madaha

Let’s have a chat, middle-class America.

Being poor is rough. Wondering how you’re going to pay the bills is the least-fun experience ever. Going through a season of uncertainty is tiring with all the anxiety and stress that wages war on your mind.

But you know what we hate more than being broke?

Being needy.

It’s okay to sometimes admit being “middle-class” and not being able to afford “luxuries.”

But being needy? Asking for help? Receiving help?

That’s out of the question.

Because then I’d have to admit I’m not self-sufficient. Run the risk of being thought of as a failure, that maybe I’m a fully-functioning adult who can’t even afford to pay the bills, much less go out and spend time with friends and community.

So what do we do? We don’t ask for help. Yet at the same time we don’t ever say “no.”

How does this pan out in our lives? Here’s where I think this death-trap leads:

Credit cardWe find another un-related party to pay for us. 

Why are credit cards and loans and payment plans so attractive? We are able to receive help from someone who doesn’t know us and is completely removed from our lives. We’re able to keep up the appearance and expectation of the life we want to live in front of the people we want to be respected by.

Virtual financial help gives us a false sense of security. I’ve never heard a person stand up in a community gathering or Wednesday night prayer service and vulnerably say, “I don’t know if I can afford gas to make it until my next paycheck.” But that same person might go to a gas company and apply for a rewards credit card.

Better than admit I can’t make it on my own.

When we find our own “resources” instead of helping each other, then we become too good to receive help and further ingrain this shame culture, that somehow I’m not valuable if I can’t live the life I think I’m supposed to live.

And feeling shamed leads to the next point:

We isolate ourselves from others.

If I can’t keep up, if I can’t afford to eat at the places everyone else eats at, if I can’t have a home that I expect to have in order to invite people over, then I might as well not spend time with people at all.

I know. I’m with you. I get it, people.

This has been hands-down the most difficult year in my life. Financially, it’s seemed near crushing at times. And I’m like, “Geez, when will this ever end?!”

And in those dark hours I had to face my fears.

“Face your fears” is such a cliche phrase and I’ve wondered if it actually meant anything.

Now I know it means that these fears lurk in the deep recesses of your heart, and you kinda know they’re there, but you work hard to keep ahead so that you never have to face them and admit you have weaknesses.

Until everything is taken away.

And then you realize that stripped down you are a whole lot more unstable than you ever thought.

When everything was gone, when last summer I lost all my work and a job offer in a single moment, I was frightened beyond anything I could imagine.

In that moment and the days to follow, I made the difficult decision to work through it instead of finding a quick healing balm to surpress the pain. Credit cards and bank loans are easy compared to reading your own Fear statement.

Now before you think about how epically brave this was, keep reading.

Though I found I was fine with not having much, I quickly discovered another issue.

The Real Fear.

Here it is.

I didn’t want to be needy.

I was fine with living simply. I just didn’t want to lose control.

And now the control was gone. I couldn’t hide any longer. And even if I tried, it wouldn’t have worked very long because the situation didn’t really change and hasn’t really yet.

So here I am, thinking now that maybe I’m supposed to learn something from this instead of just fixing the problem. Maybe I’m supposed to change. Maybe these things make you stronger because you have to accept your weaknesses in order to be stronger. Weird how that work, huh?

So thus the epiphany moment. And as I’ve been thinking big picture about this now, here’s some positive things I’ve learned this year about being broke.

Your pride barrier is lowered, thus you become more humble.

There’s nothing more humbling than being broke, because then you realize that maybe my world doesn’t revolve around me and my bank account. Maybe I’m not defined by my income.

When you become more humble, you are more relatable and empathetic. 

Humility pushes you to see the world through other people’s eyes. If you can do that, if you become a truly empathetic individual, then you have huge capacity to relate in relationships, which makes you a better person and contributor to your community.

When you don’t have much, you are free, thus you have power. 

When we give our lives over to “getting,” getting a car, getting more furniture, getting a bigger house, getting a bigger paycheck, then you also get slavery. It’s sad to see so many people that are owned by possessions.

When you don’t have much? Then you’re free. Free to give the power to things that last for a lifetime and eternity.

If you owe, you don’t have power. Someone else does. 

The moment you let someone else pay for you, you have removed power from yourself and given it to another. Isn’t crazy how we choose to give power to credit companies who could care less about us? If you must borrow, then at least borrow from someone who cares about you.

Having little is the garden that creativity and innovation grows in. 

Have you seen someone with loads of money and options? They typically aren’t very creative. Other people think for them because they don’t have to think. They have money now.

Sometimes we exchange power in thought for power in money. That’s a dire mistake.

Being poor is a mindset. 

You can choose to focus all your attention inwardly and be consumed with your lack of resources and how that affects your life.

OR you can choose to accept where your current situation, and then focus your attention outward to the opportunity you have through your current situation.

I may have next to nothing, but I am wealthy in every way. Because I’ve learned to measure wealth in character, in love, in relationships.

Never let anyone tell you you’re less than your wealth in character, love and relationships, that somehow you are defined by your money, possessions, lifestyle, restaurant choice, education, or job.

Because they are the poor ones. And they will never know the riches that are experienced in the things in life that don’t have price tags on it.

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.

Should I Help That Beggar?

Posted on by Angela Madaha

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It’s a discussion that goes on all the time and Facebook comments run rampant with the best solution on how to decide whether or not to help out that beggar or homeless person or man with the cardboard sign or the lady with the sad family story.

We’ve all heard it before.

Veteran with no money. Need job.

Single mom of 3 kids. No money. Please help.

Homeless and hungry.

Need money and food.

Will work for food.

Need cash for weed.

Hey, at least he was honest.

And maybe they all are. But how do you know? How can you be sure that they actually need help?

And then the discussion explodes.

We create the list. Here’s what you need to prove in order to get my help. As long as you’re legitimately needy, perfectly helpless, have lived a perfect life in destitution, haven’t taken advantage of anyone, aren’t doing anything illegal, and are totally down and out (and not of your own doing, of course), then…maybe then I can help.

As long as you have the most selfless intentions, then, then alone, will I give you help since now my sense of justice is fulfilled.

Because I’m the final judge of whether or not you deserve goodness. I mean, why in the world would anyone help someone who didn’t even deserve it? If I’m going to give you something for free then you must allow me to have the totally selfless satisfaction that I am a real do-gooder for the betterment of society.

Ok. Let’s stop.

Can we please remove the totally fake mask covering this whole discussion? And this is the very mask I’ve gone to grips with in my own life and heart. Why don’t we just verbalize what’s really going on in our heads? It’s then we realize how judgmental it can be.

The proof of love and pure goodness is how we do love and do good to the poor and destitute when they least deserve it. Because one day I have to realize that I am one of those least deserved. That what separates me from them is one series of unfortunate events, or perhaps a slow series of bad decisions. Just as I have the same potential to be in their state, so they have the potential to be in mine. And as the one with the stronger hold on life, it’s my responsibility to care for the poor.

It’s not Salvation Army’s responsibility.

It’s not the government’s.

It’s not the missionary church’s.

It’s yours. It’s mine. The future and health of our cities and neighborhoods are under our ownership. Do you believe this? Do I?

I know, there are so many hard questions around this topic.

I can’t help everybody. Who do I help?

I get this. I’m single, I’m a woman, I don’t have much money, I don’t have many resources. None of those, however, are limitations. It’s just how I have to think about my approach to helping. So for me, it’s simply been the choice to love the one in front of you. Be intentional about it and be prepared. Don’t drive to the homeless section of town when you haven’t reached out to your coworker who you know struggles as a single-mom and is constantly stressed about making ends meet. Start with that person. And walk into the opportunities that follow.

So you’re saying that every person that asks me for money, food, etc… I should give to them, just like that?

Great question. How about this: we instead initiate to ask the needy and poor how we can help them. Novel! You know what this does? It gives us a sense of purpose and intentionality. We can now plan. We can put it in our budget and focus. It also makes things clear so we can say no to certain things and yes to the ones we want to focus on. It’s ok to say no. But do it because you already know where your help is going, not because of pure judgement.

I feel guilty because I have this sense of compassion for everyone I see that needs help and it’s overwhelming! Maybe I should just stifle that feeling?

As a human, this should be natural and normal. Be so careful of squelching compassion because soon you will be totally empty. We are all built with an innate sense of compassion, some cultures nurturing it more than others. We also all have a sense of goodness when we give. Again, though, the more you live in selfishness, and some in real evil, the more this will be silenced altogether. So it’s ok to hurt for those you can’t do anything about. But what you can do, do well and with your whole heart.

For children of God and those in relationship with Jesus, it’s such a real, (super)natural reaction, because once we have chosen God and live in the reality of the wonderful life He has so graciously gifted us, we see and love others through His eyes of love. And He loves the world best and the most of all. He’s pretty awesome at love.

Giving isn’t my gift.

If you have the gift of life, you have the gift of giving. You have something to offer. It will look different from me and from the person next to you. But we all have the responsibility to help those that are weaker than us, for the vulnerable. Your gift might not be money, but it may be time, or an open house, or that extra bike, or homemade Pinterest caramel brownies. Not only is it God’s loving command (there’s so much happiness and joy in it!) but it takes us to a deeper level of relationship with him. His nature is giving to those that are most undeserving, like you and I. He chose us in our worst state! Does this not inspire to give and love others into the kingdom??

But I might be taken advantage of.

I’ve struggled through this on so many levels. I’ve heard this on blog posts, Facebook comments, Sunday school lessons, coffee conversations, and all from people with good intentions. This guy asked me for money for food and then I realized he was a druggie, so I said no. Whew, almost enabled someone!

Do you have any idea what just happened? Someone who clearly has major problems asks you for something superficial, and based off the knowledge of deeper problems he has, you choose to reject helping him with the surface issue while totally ignoring the huge, major issue that you’ve already discovered! Perhaps he needs someone to ask him if he would like someone to walk with him to a local rehab center. Perhaps she needs someone to speak truth into her life of what she was created to be, of how much she is loved, by you and God. Perhaps he needs a weekly friend to stop by and talk for 15 minutes, and when he’s ready to give up his life for a better one, you will be he one he goes to.

Maybe we need to apply our intelligence and knowledge and lead them to a path of what they truly need. It creates purpose and hope. Walking away is easy, but it never gives hope. And giving hope is often really awkward and super uncomfortable. But it’s the path to freedom.

We settle with way too little. We desperately cling to our sense of justice and fear of being taken advantage of.

How big is your love? How much can it take? Often, the point here is not necessarily the helping itself; it’s the times when you are betrayed and lied to and taken advantage of, and then…you could walk away totally justified. Or, you have the chance to look them in the eye and say, “I still choose to love you and forgive you and offer the best help for you.” That is when pure love and goodness is on display for the world.

And it takes radical love to change the world, your city, your neighborhood.

And I am not saying this from a narrow positive opportunist viewpoint, totally naive to the realities of misuse. I’ve been the recipient of lies and betrayal in very deep ways. In life, family, friendships, work, dating relationships. And this isn’t just “the past.” Recently I lived under the lies and manipulation of a guy I was in a relationship with, and lived with the subsequent emotional trauma of betrayal.

I get it. It doesn’t feel good. The natural response is to run, to protect yourself from any other hurt in the future, to assume the worst of people.

This is when your love shows up. Was it all about what you could get out of it? Or was it about you choosing to live love without expectations and demands? It’s hard. You’ll mess up, get messy, be exposed to really uncomfortable situations, and have to face your own fears. It’s awkward and confusing. You yourself will have to be needy on wisdom, on God, on others to help you.

But at the end of the day you will know that you chose love. And whether it looks like a giftcard or money or buying groceries or opening up your guest room or throwing dinner parties to the least of these or offering your business expertise or even just a word of encouragement and a prayer, it is all never in vain.

Watch not just your life open up, but your heart. Watch your neighborhood change, your city catch the fever. As William Wilborforce, leader of societal reform in England and the end of international slave trade, said,

Let’s make goodness fashionable.

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.

Love the one in front of you

Posted on by Angela Madaha

How do you change the world?

Heidi Baker said it well:

Love the one in front of you.

Change does not happen through programs and speeches and books and status’s and tweets and music and community groups and fundraisers and blog posts.

One day we have to realize that the only person responsible for making change happen in our community and city and country and world is ourselves.

I cannot control my circumstances or the people who appear in my day. But I do have everything to say about my choices in response to each and every person in front of me every day.

I used to search out change, dream about changing the world, create plans of action to really impact the world.

And then about a year ago a subtle change happened and I really didn’t realize it until others called it out. I think it’s because I was just living who I was in my natural environment but my perspective on people had shifted somehow.

Just over a year ago my vision for Greenville unexpectedly became “This is my city“, and when you own something you naturally act differently towards it.

Suddenly the homeless person walking by my company to buy alcohol and drugs across the street to feed his addiction was my problem. When Michael’s trailer became condemned and he had nowhere to live that was my problem. When a friend came to my house after being abused for months that was my problem. When a couple driving through Greenville needed their laundry done that was my problem. When a new friend quit a strip club job because of her choice to follow Jesus and had no place to live that was my problem.

It was pretty difficult. And often awkward. I mean, seriously. Whenever someone admits need and you give them something, it’s pretty awkward. It would’ve been so much easier to complain. “I can’t believe there was an open drug deal outside our office. We work in such a bad neighborhood.” “Why doesn’t Salvation Army take care of Michael? That’s what they’re there for.” “Man, people always have an agenda when they ask for something. They’re such manipulators.” “Wow, some men are just abusive pigs and some poor girls just fall for it. Let’s pray about it.”

I would say the past year I’ve been stretched financially more than I ever could have imagined. My heart was split open over life stories. I had several emotional breakdowns. I had to deal with using my last dollar to provide for someone and then watch them use money they were given to buy dress shoes and eat out. I had to learn to be rejected, and then to forgive, and then to keep giving when my ability and desire was completely wasted away. I had to deal with other people (Christians) upset about my generosity because it interfered with their lives. I often felt alone and unable to know how to make decisions.

So, yes, from that perspective it was hard. Loving was challenging. Giving was an obstacle.

And yet…

I wouldn’t change it for the world.

Look, you could offer to totally pay off my school debt (which is a lot) in return for the past year and I would laugh and say to you…

I told you the struggle, but now let me tell you the joy.

The joy of inviting that laundry couple over for dinner and hearing them tell me how they met Jesus radically a few days earlier, having the husband drill me about why I live the way I live, and then laughing at their ridiculous story of “rafting” down a river in Louisiana on an air mattress. The joy of driving Michael to church a year after we met him, watching him get baptized while I am wrecked into tears about his crazy story and our experiences. The joy of standing next to my friend during worship as she raises her hands in tears in praise to God for freeing her soul and I have to stop singing because I realize that only a month ago she had been in a strip club, broke, lonely, and had no hope to cling to. The joy of realizing that all the promises of Isaiah 58 are mine to claim and then watch them unfold in my life.

I didn’t search for these joys. I didn’t wake up one day and decide to find someone and impact their life. I think I realized who I was, which is a chosen child of God, which means the Spirit lives in me, so I naturally think and act like Jesus, so when a person in need is in front of me, I simply act like Jesus did.

Sometimes that was surprising. Sometimes it was celebrated. Sometimes it was impressive. Sometimes it seemed like I became a celebrity.

Can I just say that when we know who we are that acts of love and kindness and generosity and healing are completely normal? Why is it not normal that we have the homeless living with us? That we feed the hungry out of our paycheck? That we personally give our good clothing to those in need?

Isaiah 58 became my rallying cry and my source of promise when things got in deep and dark. And FYI, it’s for all of us. And it’s not figurative. It’s literal.

We are all world changers. The question is will we live up to our potential? And I believe that potential is very simple: Love the one in front of you.

One. just one.

And it’s funny. After you love one, suddenly it becomes two. And then three. And pretty soon people start thinking you’re this courageous, impressive person and you’re like, “Um, I’m just living. like a normal person. that knows Jesus. Hey, you can too! We’re really not that different.”

Stop the meetings. Stop the bullet points. Stop the noise. And let’s live our normal day with Kingdom eyes and watch some pretty freakn’ amazing things start happening.