I'm working on a non-fiction project called Bohemian Forgiveness: Five Unconventional Paths to Forgiving What You'll Never Forget. There's not much to see on the Facebook page for now but it will come, and I'll be sure to keep you posted.
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A girlfriend invites me to join her at women's conference as I wade through the murky waters of divorce. I accept. Force a smile. Go. On the last day we arrive to envelopes thoughtfully placed on our seats. Each contains a Scripture . . . a "timely word from God," if you will.
I'm afraid to open my envelope. I'm afraid because these days I prefer swear words over ten-week Bible studies. I dread my "word" will read something along the lines of: Repent! Repent! Wicked servant. So I take my ticking bomb to the ladies room and shut myself inside a stall where I pray: Lord, please don't hurt me. I'm fragile. I need a kind word even though I probably don't deserve one. Only You know how many times I've said the F-word since I read the phone bill and, well, You know. Amen.
I peel back my envelope hoping the fragments of my heart won't be blown to bits so tiny they're unrecognizable even to me.
Renounce your sins by doing what is right,
and your wickedness by being kind to the oppressed.
It may be that your prosperity will continue.
Daniel 4: 27 NIV
Me to God: Um. I was kind of hoping I wouldn't get a scripture like this because it tempts me to throw myself off a bridge--Bible in hand.
God to me: If I was your earthly father, Wendy, do you know what I'd say to you? Why do you allow him to treat you this way? Why? Abuse is not my will.
Talk about a Daddy-daughter moment. He loves and sees and hears me in my circumstances. He wants me to repent; "to see things differently after having spent time with Him" and renounce my wicked tolerance of the abuse and neglect I've tolerated for years in the very home I've tried so hard to make a haven. It's time to extend some long over-due kindness to the oppressed: Me!
Daniel 4: 27 reveals my distorted view of my heavenly Father's heart toward His daughters. This is what amazes me about the love of God. In less than five minutes and from a bathroom stall, He redeems my perception of a scripture I can only see through the eyes of guilt and shame. Wow.
If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them wanders away, what will he do?
Won't he leave the ninety-nine others on the hills in the conference and go out and search for the one that is lost (in the bathroom)?
Matthew 18: 12 NIV
You are not alone,
Published on Tuesday, September 13, 2016 @ 3:32 PM CDT