Better Than Average

Today I am participating in the meme, In "other" Words, hosted by Deborah at Chocolate and Coffee. She has selected a quote from A. W. Tozer as this Tuesday’s topic.

"Refuse to be average. Let your heart soar as high as it will." Aiden Wilson Tozer

Six years ago the Lord put on my heart a “calling” to write. I began writing for my own discipline and pleasure, in obedience to what I felt God was asking me to do. It was what consumed my private hours, but I had no intention of sharing my writing with anyone.

Only a few months into my writing, through an unusual set of circumstances, I began leading a Women’s Sunday School class. Again, this was not something I set out to do, but I did feel compelled to do it. I found that preparing for the Sunday school class inspired me to write even more. It was another way for me to interact with the Scripture lessons I was teaching. Still, I was very reluctant to share any of my writing. That would be like allowing others to peer directly into my heart and soul. I was uncomfortable sharing so much of myself. Besides that, I didn’t want to seem boastful about the gift and ministry God had given me.

Slowly, apologetically even, I did begin to share some of my poems and essays as they matched the day’s topic. Instead of boasting or opening myself up to contempt, as I had feared, I found that through my writing I was better understood -respected, even, for my transparency. Better yet, other women began to open up and share their gifts with me.

Before long I discovered Faithwriters, a wonderful online organization where my writing skills could be practiced and honed. Through the weekly writing challenge I became accustomed to receiving constructive feedback on my writing, and grew in confidence as a writer. I quickly moved up the ranks from beginner, to intermediate, on to advanced, and finally to master’s level. This year, after only two and a half years of participating, one of my poems placed second in the “Best of the Best” annual contest.

“Refuse to be average,” Tozer says. When I consider my writing journey, how could I have ever believed that the God of greatness would call me to do something “average”? Sure, I may never write a best-seller or win a Pulitzer Prize, but then again, why not? Who knows where this godly adventure will take me, and what His pleasure will be?

My favorite part of Tozer’s quote, however, is the last part, “Let your heart soar as high as it will.” This speaks to me of the freedom and joy God allows me to experience when I am acting in obedience to His calling on my life, and the resulting praise that wells up within me.

“I will praise you, O lord, with all my heart.”* Psalm 138:1 (NIV)

My Sunday school class once spent some time considering this verse from Matthew:

“In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven.”** Matthew 5:16 (NIV)

This was during my early writing days, and I wrote the following poem to illustrate its meaning. No, it isn’t my best poetic specimen, but I do like its message, and I think it fits with the rest of what I have shared here, so I will leave you to ponder it.

Let Me Shine

What if I refused to let God’s glory shine;
hid it under a bushel basket, denying it was mine?
Would Jesus smile upon me and say I’m doing fine;
a withered leaf just barely clinging to the vine?

What if Daniel thought it odd, interpreting a dream?
What if John the Baptist feared wading in a stream?
Would Jesus smile upon them and say they did just fine;
two withered leaves just barely clinging to the vine?

What if David had refused to write his poetry?
What if Noah said, “I’m not too good at carpentry”?
Would Jesus smile upon them and say they did just fine;
two withered leaves just barely clinging to the vine?

What if Saul declared, “You can’t possibly use me”?
What if Lydia hid her gift of hospitality?
Would Jesus smile upon them and say they did just fine;
two withered leaves just barely clinging to the vine?

God, like those saints, help me reflect your glory day and night,
shining like the stars you flung into the darkest night.
I want to be a beacon of the glory that is mine;
a healthy, vibrant leaf, drinking deeply from the vine.

--Sharlyn Guthrie

Thanksgiving For Dreadful Deeds

Internet Cafe Chat
by Sharlyn Guthrie
My father was an elementary principal. He faithfully attended church, taught Sunday school, and even preached on occasion. He provided well for our family. I always had adequate shelter, good food, and comfortable clothing. My parents paid for music lessons, allowed me to go to church camp, and at times sent me to private school.

My father molested me…not once, but continually. As I grew older I resisted and pushed him away; I was disgusted, but quite honestly it was just the way life was, so I guess I thought of it as normal. He didn’t stop trying to molest me until after I left home.

I began to see my family life as less than ideal, so as an adolescent I began to make a mental list of things I didn’t want to repeat in my own life. In some ways I was mature beyond my years. I grew into a close dependence on my Heavenly Father. In other ways I was lacking, particularly when it came to setting personal boundaries. I was also a people pleaser and a terrible communicator. Oh, I liked to talk! But I buried my feelings and hid behind my Christianity, just like my parents did.

As you might guess, I was quite vulnerable as a teenager. Discussing sex at home was taboo. My parents had rules, but the rules seemed more effective in protecting their image than protecting me. Besides, I was already ruined, and I was pretty sure it had to be my fault. Somehow, by God’s grace –and I REALLY mean that— I got through my teen years without being raped or worse, although I was victimized by other family and non-family members.

My story has had many twists and turns, but I’ll suffice it here to say that I married a “prince” of a man and I’m living happily ever after. God is so good!

Just a few of the things that have been a struggle in my life are these: feeling worthy, feeling forgiven, feeling nothing, enjoying sex with my husband (initially), facing the reality of my father’s incestuous advances, confronting my father, exposing a family legacy of lies, forgiving my father, losing my relationship with a sister, honoring a father who was less than honorable…the list goes on.

Can you thank me for trusting you with this experience even if I never tell you why? ~God

This was the question I struggled with most. One by one I worked through the other issues over months and years. Just when I would think an issue was solved, it would bare its fangs, mocking me. None of it happens over night, even with Jesus. I wouldn’t want to go through it without Him, it’s true. But healing takes time, and it’s hard!

When my father passed away seven years ago I finally felt the freedom to begin talking about this aspect of my life, partly to aid in my own healing, and partly to reach out to others dealing with similar experiences. It has helped to answer the question.

I will always wonder why I wound up with an earthly father who didn’t know how to love. But I have never once doubted the love of my Heavenly Father. Still, am I thankful?

I was fifty years old and had experienced yet another excruciatingly painful event before I was able to say, “Thank you, God, for giving me the father you did. Thank you for allowing me to feel the pain his unwanted advances inflicted. It drew me to You in ways nothing else could. It gave me empathy for the pain of others. It made me a better parent. It made me see the reality of my own sinfulness and my need for Your forgiveness. It taught me to be loving and forgiving. From dreadful deeds, you have produced beautiful fruit. You are a God to be praised!”

"I waited patiently for the Lord, he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock, and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God. Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord." Psalm 40:1-3