Category Archives: Got Pain?

Have You Suffered?

Posted on May 8, 2013 | 11 Comments

It started when I was eight years old.

I remember making fun of a boy in my class. He and his friends followed me from school that day. I only made it half-way home before they grabbed me. The pack of three of them took turns pushing and spinning me between them. Dizzy, I stumbled. Fell. There was shouting.

And kicking.

That was them.

And crying.

That was me.

I ended up in a garbage can. Humiliated.

Dirty.

Bruised.

And so it began.

I tried unsuccessfully to stand up for myself at school the next day.

Recess, under the watchful eye of a teacher brought threats which were carried out when the last bell rang. I barely made it off the school grounds when they caught me.

Sometimes there were just two of them. Once, I almost made it all the way to the school, running, but one of them cut me off. They pinned me against a neighbor’s house. Hands everywhere.

Everywhere.

Each school day began and ended with fear. Inside the building, it wasn’t as bad. The ring leader simply said things to me… sexual things… things I shouldn’t know about at that age…sometimes, when the teacher wasn’t there, he and his friends touched me. Verbally stealing my innocence by filling my head with things I couldn’t even imagine but left me feeling dirty.

The bullying continued until I was around twelve.

And all I could do was run. The one time I spoke up, the boy received detention. I had slapped him in the face. He made up a story and the male teacher gave me detention too… for enticing the boy.

I was too young to be incensed at his behavior and lack of protection.

And early on, when I involved my mother, the retaliation was worse than the original bullying.

So much worse…

I quickly learned it was just best not to tell.

So I “tried God.” I figured he wouldn’t want a little kid like me to suffer like this, if He was real. So I prayed. I asked for it to stop. When that didn’t work, I asked for us to move, or for the other kids to move. When that didn’t work, I prayed to die. “And if I die before I wake” became, “Please let me die instead of wake,” for my bedtime prayers.

And yet I lived.

So at the age of twelve, I decided that God was not real and became an atheist.

I couldn’t believe that a loving God would allow that kind of suffering from one who turned to Him for help.

And four years later, when I was sixteen, I went to majorette camp.

I’ll never forget the closing ceremonies, and the motivational speaker I’d come to deeply admire and respect over the week. I agreed with everything he said. And he spoke of having hope, and purpose, and that we really were important as individuals – that our lives mattered. His words breathed life into the long-dying embers of the fire of life within me. I felt encouraged.

And then he closed his talk with, “but none of this even begins to compare to living life for the Audience of One, Jesus Christ. The greatest joy known to man is serving God.”

What?

My cage rattled. How could he believe this? I didn’t know what to think and struggled with those closing words for many years.

At age 22, I finally decided to marry – and this was another man I deeply admired and respected. And he was a believer, also. And so much so that he wouldn’t marry me unless I believed as well.

So again, I gave God “a try.”

…and here we are.

And now, I thank God for the troubles of those early days.

Admittedly, at first I thought it cost me much to be thankful for those things, but now I see it cost me nothing. It was all gain, though I did not see at the time. The hardest truth to learn for all of us that follow Him is to be thankful in the midst of suffering. To claim joy in the middle of sorrow is so hard – we want to cling tightly to ourselves, to protect. But God means it all for good, in order to bring out His results, through the fabric of our lives.

Joy and thankfulness are not emotions that we feel, but rather actions of obedience that we take.

A spoiled, selfish child made tougher and humbler for service by the rough treatment of mean others gently offers these things humbly to you. There is no looking up without bowed knee. There is no honor without being brought low first. There is no question of will we suffer? But rather when will we? And will we dig in our heels and demand rescue with the sword, or will we graciously endure, with thankful hearts for the learning He has orchestrated for us? Will we teach those in our care the blessing of gratitude in the midst of suffering? The lessons are not mine to choose, merely my response is the option.

I don’t pretend to be perfect at this life, but I am honestly thankful for the stronger-tender heart the suffering created. What those boys meant for evil, God used as good to make me stronger – a different, hopefully better mom, one with deep relationship with my children, and healthy ways of dealing with wrongs – at least some if not most of the time. And if I don’t believe that He allowed it, knowing the outcome, then my God is weak and not worthy of my worship.

1 Chronicles 7:14 (ESV)

If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land.

John 16:33 (NASB)

I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.

Psalm 23:4 (NASB)

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me, Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

1 Peter 5:6 (NASB)

Humble yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.

Today, I humbly and gently suggest this dare, knowing fully that some of us haven’t fully healed enough to do it…but here goes… dare you to offer thanks for the sufferings of the past. Ask Him to reveal the blessings brought to you in the midst of the hardship. Double dog dare you to recognize that the current hardship you endure is intended for good, as well. Perhaps it will give you a new perspective. He’s working out our testimonies, one hardship at a time, birthing ministry from tears and pain. Join me, won’t you? Willingly go to knees in obedience and worship, asking for His guidance and teaching and joy in thankfulness of what we can’t even see now… can we trust Him that much? 


If I had online tissues, I’d be handing them out here today. It’s one of those days where I somewhat reluctantly do what I feel led to do, but tentatively, wincing with the knowledge of the high cost of what He asks of us…and honestly, part of me is just waiting.  Waiting to hear from my sisters who have suffered. Wondering how those poor women in upper Ohio survived the torture and torment of the last ten years. Praying to see Mercy revealed even in the midst of that horror… praying to SEE…

Love to you,

~Nina


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Posted in Avoid Divorce, Got Pain?

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Got a Difficult Marriage? Here’s Hope…

Posted on April 26, 2013 | 7 Comments


“Those are pretty flowers. Who are they for?” he asked.

“Me. I had a horrible week and no one noticed, so I bought them for myself to cheer me up – they were the cheap ones at the grocery, so no worries, okay?” she responded.

Silence.

She knew he just didn’t know what to say. It was okay.

She had thanked God for the jobs that provided and the knowledge that her husband wouldn’t mind if she spent $7 on herself this way.

“I’m sorry I didn’t think of that,” he said, frowning.

“No problem. I didn’t expect you to, and it’s not exactly something cool to ask for,” she replied calmly.

She knew he was processing. He probably hadn’t remembered that long ago, she loved getting flowers.

She knew he remembered now.

Later…

An email arrived, suggesting their tween girl sleep on the floor on a trip since the bed and breakfast didn’t have accommodations for all of them in the same room.

She knew he didn’t realize their daughter would feel slighted and that the experience would be demeaning to her. She knew he did not realize his little girl was growing up, and as her mom, she knew their daughter would not be thrilled with “camping” on the floor. Her brothers were much too old for that, as well.

Hmm…what to do?

Father?

James 1:19 again, “Be quick to listen, slow to speak, and even slower to become angry.”

Proverbs 31:12 also, “She brings him good, and not harm, all the days of her life.”

Ephesians 4:24 last, “and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.”

Hmm…all precious to God.

Righteous judgment taught her that her while husband did not know the right thing here, it would also be also just as wrong of her to be condemning in her communication.

She no longer felt condemnation, anyway, but compassion toward a smart man who struggled to deeply connect and communicate how much he loved those around him.

The “old her” knew she could react with anger at the insensitive nature of the question he posed.

The “new her” knew that most men simply lacked empathy and needed to learn it. She certainly had her own opportunities for growth in many areas.

The “new her” also knew this was an opportunity to be a help to her husband and sons, calling them to a higher standard.


So she replied, “I know you have thought through this extensively, and I appreciate all the trip-planning you are doing! I’m sure it is a lot of work with lots to consider. I remember the days when our little girl really enjoyed those “camping” experiences. I remember the boys loving it when they were younger, too. I miss those days, don’t you? We sure had a lot of fun! What you probably aren’t aware of is that she is in a growth period emotionally, where she is figuring out her identity in stronger, teenager-type ways, and I think we are past the days where her sleeping on the floor would be acceptable. It is likely she would view our asking her to do that now as demeaning, and I see an opportunity for the gentlemen in our family to rise to the occasion to communicate value to her, by not making her be the one to sleep on the floor.” (emphasis mine)

She hit “send.”

Discussion ensued later at home. He agreed and they discussed options.

She knew that years before, without her track record of respect and submission, argument and sarcastic retort would have ruled the day – for both of them. But she had hung in there for over a decade of hard lessons learned and mutual respect prevailed in their relationship.

Thank you, Father.

…

Dare you to dig deeply daily into God’s Word such that His voice is louder than the others. Dare you to read Proverbs daily, growing in wisdom and maturity as you continue to age.

Dare you to refuse to believe the lies that “respect” and “submission” mean becoming a doormat, invisible and even more alone than you are now in your marriage.

You are your husband’s equal. Yes, if you can’t agree, choose submission, and be mature enough to choose your battles wisely, and don’t be a chatty woman with an opinion on everything, running off at the mouth all the time.

Know that the above is just a place on someone’s journey. Dare you to believe that place is possible for you – where you allow God to take care of your needs when others miss the opportunity, and where you are mature and healthy in the relationships you have.

Think strength and dignity.

And listen and obey His Word. It will change everything.

Want a 40-day fast track to Biblical growth? Try The Respect Dare. Subscribe to the blog. Join our community on Facebook®.

But don’t give up on your marriage because you’ve “tried everything” and it hasn’t “worked.”

I’ll bet you don’t have your identity wrapped up in Jesus Christ’s opinion of you, and “strength and dignity” while doing “respect and submission” are foreign concepts to you. If you are like most of us, myself included, you’ve gotten in God’s way of working with your husband by not focusing on your own obedience. Stop doing that! Join us and start figuring this out – it’s where life abundant is.

Spend the next ten years being schooled with us in relationships. There’s plenty of room and we’re glad you are here. It’s a journey paved with tears, but totally worth it because there’s peace, joy, comfort and contentment in the middle and on the other side. Don’t give up just because things are hard. They’re supposed to be.

Love to you,

~Nina


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Posted in Avoid Divorce, Wives, That Guy We Journey With, Kids & Parenting, Got Pain?, Got Conflict??

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Want Joy – in the midst of this?

Posted on April 19, 2013 | 6 Comments

This week started quiet: breakfast, home school, kids, and something unusual – a fun prayer group texting about a forty-something friend running the Boston Marathon.

My morning run, squeezed in between teaching 5th grade math and history, took me by our friend’s house a few times. As I passed the driveway, an older man emptied the trunk of his car, and I thanked God for blessing her with family that helped her achieve her dreams.

I prayed safety for her, too, and finding that a little odd (she’s a multiple marathon runner, and qualified for Boston – no small feat!) chalked it up to our ages, the crowds, or transportation issues.

…

And that afternoon, I found myself trying to stop the gush of blood from the ankle of one of my Boy Scouts.

A knot in a branch refused submission to the hatchet, bouncing the sharp tool hard onto his ankle. The skin sliced wide, blood flowed, and brave boy maintained consciousness. Bone fully exposed, I prayed, asking for both strength and joy in the midst of this harsh interruption to our routine.

Driving, it occurred to me that lack of submission to God often also results in hardships. Sometimes they are sharp and immediate, other times, they are slow growing, like infected festering wounds. 

Obedience doesn’t exempt us, however. That’s one of that other guy’s really good lies.

I wondered.

Waiting in the ER, the television brought news of the bombing.

“Mom?” he asked.

On screen, we watched the horror unfold.

We prayed. I wondered about my friend and her husband in Boston. Him standing at the sidelines, cheering her on… I thought of her bright smile and laugh. I asked for safety again.

And thanks to the texting prayer group and Facebook®, we only had about twenty minutes to wonder.

My friend had just crossed the finish line and was about a block away from the first building when it blew. Her husband, across the street from it, had his life and limbs spared by 50 feet of distance.

I wept with gratitude at the mercy shown them both, and their children, and those of us who know and love them all.

I wondered how probably a handful of small decisions – perhaps a water break taken or not, a phone call placed or saved for later, a discussion or lack of at several different places along the route – put her a block away, and not in front of the building when it exploded. I wondered about her husband on the other side of the street, and not next to the building.

I wept with recognition of the God that gives and takes away, and prayed for those who began deeper suffering that day – the friends of the Boston University graduate there to cheer on friends, Krystle Campbell, 29, and Martin Richard, 8; their families, their friends…the many injured permanently and temporarily…the ones who watched both near and afar…our nation.

…

Ten stitches, a cast, infection and five doctor and two ER visits later, it is Friday. We are tired, and continually having to choose gratitude.

Like my son’s wound, the hard work of healing still lies ahead for individuals and our country. I bought him ice cream, and am taking flowers to my friend. And I ask Him to help me SEE countless times during the day, battling the fear with blessing as we go.

Last night, He reminded me of the horrors of living in different periods in history.

Wonder, but not just the kind of warm fuzzy feelings, consumes me these days. And like you, I have more questions than I have answers. I wondered at the strange decision to cast my son’s unbroken, healthy tendon-filled foot, but after asking my questions, allowed it to occur. A full day later, I learned from the pediatrician it was because of the connective tissue disorder and to stop the increasing amount of tearing going on with the wound. I wondered about the bombing, the explosion at the fertilizer plant, and at the Creation, knowing He made us this way, this arguing, hating, passionate way. I wondered at the label of “Christian Democrat” that was claimed by the man accused of sending ricin packages to our leaders.

It has been a week of wondering, hasn’t it?

And like you, with many unanswered questions, I hugged my kids tighter, prayed harder, and chose gratitude and fought discouragement this week.

Battle weary, the tenseness of my shoulders and the physical exhaustion I feel is indicative of my great need for Him and my small faith. I wondered if I lived centuries ago, if I would make the “Hebrew Hall of Fame” listed in Hebrews chapter 11. How I long to never be afraid, to always trust, to continually be brave and not have it count as bravery because there is no fear, but only His complete peace. Did they eventually have this kind of faith? 

I wondered at the lack of awareness about my blogging this week – it nagged at me like never before, and I somehow forgot about the two posts nearly completely written for me by others I simply didn’t use yet.

I couldn’t see.  He tried to bless me, but I didn’t stop long enough to receive His gift. I chose instead, to stay trapped in my own habits of thinking.

I confess, in a world filled with struggle and strife, I am still learning how to find joy in the tough parts of this journey, and escape my culturally influenced habits of thinking. I would rather have my son healed and safe than suffering now to learn the many things he is learning through this injury and infection.

I can’t learn this joy on my own. I have to ask Him to reveal it to me, and when I do, I’m continually brought back to being thankful for what He has given us.

Dare you today to ask God to teach you in the middle of whatever pain you are experiencing. Dare you to ask Him to help you SEE.

Double dog dare you to share – especially if you have a prayer request, or have learned fully to partake of joy in the midst of the life-desert in which we live, overcoming the need for green pasture entertainment, delight and comfort most of the time.

I want to know how He taught you to be joy-filled always.

As for me, I am actively waging war by begging for vision, and giving thanks for His mercies, His blessings, His Great Love for us. So far this morning, I’ve seen Him in the middle of my husband’s job, which bought me the bed I didn’t want to get out of and the house he purchased for us, the sweet singing sounds of the birds outside my window, the rain, the colors of spring, the sweet/bitter taste of reheated hazelnut coffee, and the warm soft hugs from waking children.

Today, I’m finding my More…because there IS more. I just need to learn to see the way He does. Glad you are here, learning too. Got thoughts? I hope you share them.

Love to you,

~Nina


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Posted in Avoid Divorce, Got Pain?, Growing

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The Reality of Depression …

Posted on April 9, 2013 | 20 Comments

Dark night, interrupted by nursing. Baby asleep, the young mother stopped before leaving the room.

Through the doorway, she saw the dim light in the bathroom softly pouring across the hallway floor.

Shadows recoiled from the small light.

Too many still loomed.

Turning, she pressed her back against the door frame and leaned.

She looked down at her feet on the hardwood floor.

Bare toes, one foot inside the room, the other out.

She stood in the darkness, straddled between room and  hall.

Straddled between life and death.

The bathroom door waited on her right side. It led to razor blades and water warm.

And to the left, baby (her baby) lay in his crib.

Breathing.

Seconds passed.

Time slowed.

Palpable pressure laid the path to escape the pain.

Thick air filled her lungs.

And to the left, gentle wisps sucked in and exhaled out. Three months old. His breath smelled sweet, like flowers.

She remembered.

The command to escape wasn’t audible, wasn’t from within, wasn’t really real, so she thought. But after months of fighting the constantly welling tears, the fear that plagued her daily, she had grown tired – tired of the weight of the sadness that descended, deepened, and refused departure.

In fighting against stereotypes and judgment, treatment still remained a concept “the weak” used. She just needed to “pull herself out of it,” so she was told.

So she tried.

But the depths of depression pulled her down like cement blocks.

And this night, she did all that she could.

Tonight, “all that she could” meant to simply stand.

Tonight, strength meant to not move…to not take a step toward the bathroom.

Stand. For life.

Silent tears streamed down her face.

She wanted to call for help – she desperately wanted rescuing, not death. For months now, the idea of describing to another the hellish thoughts that plagued her consciousness kept her silent. Once, to someone close to her, she bravely timidly offered, “I might be depressed,” and a contrary lecture ensued.

One more time a sliver of bravery bubbled through the murky black depths of depression. All she could do in an attempt to call for help at the top of her voice emerged barely a whisper, “Post-partum depression – I think I might have it,” she revealed through tears.

This time the lecturer, a pillar of religion, centered judgment around her “lack of prayer” and “lack of faith,” although neither assertion was true. She couldn’t disagree, however, because her cry for help used up the last bit of bravery within her.

And she did pray, she did have faith, she did beg God to heal her.

And He had said, “Not this way.”

So she hung on, until it all became too much, and lies promised freedom from torment and tears by way of blood mixed with water until life ebbed silently away.

Temptation lured.

She looked at the bathroom door.

The baby stirred and then sighed asleep still.

Husband’s alarm sounded. Five o’clock AM.

The groggy man entered the hallway and spied his bride leaning in the doorway to the baby’s room. He stopped, confused. “What’s wrong?”

A long pause…then, “I’m not safe.”

Tears.

Confusion.

“Here,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “Come back to bed. I’ll hold you.” She relaxed and let him walk her back to the bedroom.

She wept.

He kept his word and held her until she finally fell asleep.

And he took her to the doctor that day. They asked the hard questions. She did her best to answer.

Then there was medicine.

And finally, hope.

And five weeks later, she smiled again.

Three babies more each brought the torment of hell on earth in the form of post-partum depression. Each time was a little easier, due to earlier medical intervention. Even the miscarriage brought the dark despair to the forefront of her experience for a brief time.

She breathed life through gray until the drug kicked in, and then her eyes focused on the sunshine and colors of life abundant once more. Having been the “girl with the positive attitude” and the woman whose eyes and smile “lit up the room,” depression’s harsh reality came as an intense, cruel surprise. And regardless of how much others judged, criticized or commented the truth simply wasn’t pretty. And she was one of the blessed ones – medicine helped her.

There was a friend of hers, a girl in high school, that it hadn’t worked for…

Relief for her was found in the bathtub.

…

Don’t you know someone who has committed suicide? A few decades on this planet, and it is likely that you do.

I don’t know why we sometimes miss opportunities to show love to one another when suffering brings horrible circumstances into another’s life. And we all know people right now who are enduring difficulties beyond our comprehension. Perhaps our lack of understanding comes from our lack of experience, and that is judgment, which is a sin. Just because we have not experienced something does not mean it is not very real for the sufferer. How dare we hold ourselves in such high esteem?

As we have seen through the life of Jesus, judgment condemns and separates, compassion connects.

Dare you today, if you are suffering with depression, to get help – maybe therapy, maybe meds, but do something about it – you don’t have to feel like this any longer. If you are judging yourself as “weak,” let that go. It’s a lie.

Dare you today to pray for Pastor Rick Warren and his family who have lost one of their children to suicide this week. Regardless of what you think about him or his theology, he is a grieving father, worthy of compassion. Would you want to walk in his shoes? And remember, if we have issue with someone who sins against us, we are to take it to him personally, instead of gossip about him.

Double dog dare you to have some compassion toward those dealing with circumstances or illnesses, mental or otherwise that you have no personal experience with – the easy thing is to judge, but perhaps, if finding yourself in the same situations, you might have done the same thing. Who are we to criticize someone without asking them questions or confronting their sin against us Matthew 18 style? I am reminded of a pastor friend of mine who was criticized for having dinner in a bar once a week – turns out, that was his “off duty ministry.” He was reaching the lost by going where they would be found.

Often we find we are wrong in our assumptions when we take the time to inquire instead of assign blame.

Dare you to engage in dialogue and seek understanding instead of dishing judgment today and all days.

Luke 6:33-42 (ESV) And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34 And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same amount. 35 But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. 36 Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful. 37 “Judge not, and you will not be judged; condemn not, and you will not be condemned; forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38 give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you.” 39 He also told them a parable: “Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit? 40 A disciple is not above his teacher, but everyone when he is fully trained will be like his teacher. 41 Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? 42 How can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me take out the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the log that is in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take out the speck that is in your brother’s eye.

Love to you,

~Nina


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