Not Good Enough

Not good enough, not whole

Didn't, couldn't, do it right or well.

The waves of doubt and accusation

pound against me with a force

The causes my self-image to shudder.



And for a moment I see all my weakness, all of my failings.

For one moment I see only what I am alone.



But I am not complete alone, despite what the world screams at me.

I am not ok and I know it.

I am . . . complete in you.

I am able in you.



You fill up the holes and remind me

I am a child of the Father, the King.

And I am not a child because I am worthy.

I never needed to be worthy.

But I am worthy,

Because I am yours.





I struggled for years with a sense of worthlessness and failings. I didn't need to be convinced of my need for a Savior. What I needed to be convinced of was that He wanted me. Even long after I came to know the precious salvation of the blood of Christ, I struggled with a sense of not being good enough. I tried to measure up. I tried to earn the right. Although I would not have seen it in that way. I understood that working for salvation cheapened the sacrifice of the Lord. "You foolish Galatians, who has bewitched you?" I got it. But the underlying sense of worthlessness created an impossible barrier to move into pure desire. The overriding concern was about me. I didn't like it that way but there was no way around it. It took prayer, perserverence, and deliverance from that strong hold in my life.

As I prayed and others prayed for me I came into a place of better understanding and the chains loosened. As I perservered by the power of the Holy Spirit I came into a better understanding of who I am in Christ and who He is in me. Deliverence came in ministry from friends as they felt compelled to pray for me specifically one fall evening in 1996. I literally felt the binding fall from my spirit. I can't tell you what that was other than the grace of God confirming the work He was doing in me at that moment. It left not an ounce of doubt in me and the truth of my freedom in Christ was unshakable for me from that point forward.

Now that doesn't mean that I didn't fight for my ongoing hold on freedom. I was tempted at times to sink back into woe-is-me and I-just-don't-measure-up thoughts. There were moments, even days when I allowed those thoughts to slip back into my life and reign for short waves. Then He would step in and remind me who I am and to whom I belong, and what He had already accomplished in and for me. In that knowledge always came a rush of repentence and thanksgiving for the merciful, amazing love of my Savior.

Why am I sharing this with you? There are so many people today, even believers who suffer with depression and a warped sense of who they are. If we, as Christians, can be distracted into self-pity or a sense of worthlessness it will hold us back from being the person God created us to be and doing what God calls us to do. It rejects the mighty and holy soveriegn work of sanctification accomplished and being continually worked in us through the Holy Spirit. It brings the attention to us instead of to Him and denies the Word of God.

It is a good and important thing to see our sin and move in repentance. It is not a good thing to carry that stuff around like a badge or weight upon us. (as far as the east is from the west) Knowing we need salvation from even the "small" things is a good place to be. Knowing who we are in Christ is just as important.

I encourage you, whether or not you struggle with depression and a sense of worthlessness, to make a list of scripture that tells you who you are. Ask the Holy Spirit to reveal those words to you and then pick at least one or two and learn them by heart. I know I am carved into the palms of his hands and my walls are continually before him; and I know that I am part of a royal priesthood; I am his poiema, his precious creation, created for good works, planned long before I was born. I know those because the word is part of who I am. I challenge you to make it part of who you are. Even if you already know, press deeper. He has so much to say to your heart. Lean in and listen to his whisper.

When my heart is cold and unwilling
When my eyes don't see
When my ears miss your quiet call among the din of the day
You have not left me
Your presence surrounds me
Encompasses me
You never let go
You never let me go
Your hand upholds me
When I am most faithless
You are most faithful
When I hide from your presence
Your Spirit seeks me
When I come to your throne dragging up the past . . .again
You remind me that it's already gone
When I pull afar
You stay near
Calling my name
Whispering gently
Waiting
and reminding me
That you love me.
I praise you, Lord Jesus
You are today, yesterday, tomorrow
always, the same
Good, gracious, kind, loving
my salvation and my hope.
clc

the dance

My granddaughter began dance lessons last week. She is not quite three yet and so little of the actual techniques are taught. She is learning to follow directions and move along with the music and the others. She has learned certain positions and she has shared her new knowledge willingly, demonstrating just how one becomes an elephant in dance. Grammy was impressed. I never achieved an elephant while dancing, I must say. And when music comes on and all the boys run for the rhythm instruments, my girl usually puts whatever she gets down fairly quickly in favor of spinning and moving her arms about with graceful waves. She truly is Grammy's girl. Grammy's heart still dances even when my body doesn't.

There are Hebrew words translated to say rejoice that really mean things like skip, leap, twist, dance, spin, move in a sacred procession, shake violently. Just a little more expressive than "make glad" wouldn't you say? Our lives are sacrifices of praise when we live "unto the Lord" and the movement of our bodies speak to that.

I remember standing in a Christian coffee house several years back and watching a group of kids "moshing". Watching them through squinted eyes I wondered how could this bring God glory. The funny thing is that those very definitions flew into my thoughts immediately and I remembered wondering what "shaking violently" would look like. Hmmm.

I'm not asking you to agree with me as to whether any particular form of "dance" is godly. I'm just thinking about how we use our bodies to bring glory and become living sacrifices to him. The church in general many years ago decided dance was evil or maybe they really decided it was too much trouble, this is good, but that is not. Then in the 70's & 80's a huge revival of worship dance came into the church through the charismatic movement. Some of it filtered into the 90's and even today. For the most part though, I think it has been put back on the shelf once again too much.

Whatever the church does with dance in the place of corporate worship my prayer is that my grandchildren will find those secret moments of intimate worship that exist between them and Him and in those moments find the tangible dance of the spirit that touches deep and calls to deep. For it is in those moments that I have found who I am in Him, who He is in me, and what the dance is really all about.

The Dance
The rhythm
the movement
entwining of feet
the flow of the fabric
ribbons fall in graceful billows
the point of the toe
a finger
eyes lift to Him
from the heart
not for show
in sharing
from the spirit
submission of the flesh
act of worship
living sacrifice
clc

tasting, trusting, moving, crazy fast

I don't know about your life, but my life feels crazy sometimes. Not crazy like funny or over-the-top. No, crazy like mentally insane. And this usually happens when really good things are going down.

This past weekend was one of those crazies. We got a call on Wed. asking us to come for an interview for a school we wanted to send our son to. Sure, no problem we can come in a week or two. No, Friday. Friday? Like 2 days from now? Yes.

So schedules were rearranged, info passed to who needs it, really discussing and fussing over the details that were being discussed but not in urgency. Run a five hour drive on Thurs. for an interview and tour on Friday. Home on Friday. Shopping on Saturday. Family goodbyes on Sunday and packing. Up early Monday and 5 hours there to leave behind our precious boy.

I expected it to be hard. I thought I would cry on the way home. I didn't. It really wasn't. Not because I don't miss him. Not because I'm not emotional. I do. I am. It was easier in one sense because the reality of his leaving for long term is not real to me yet. But even more, the reality that this was something only the Lord could pulled off. help with the finances so that it could happen; Tim wanting to go and liking the idea (at least until the last minute); even my husband being in and ok with it, none of that was normal or easy. yet, it was easy. It happened and everything fell into place.

The weekend passed and Tim is there and the house if extremely quiet. My heart is assured by this peace that is beyond natural. I know this is right. Crazy fast weekend aside, it all worked out perfectly; or maybe because of the crazy fast weekend. There was no time to chew on it, think it through further, mull it over and discuss it unceasingly. It happened. It is what I was praying for. It's put together and I know He did this. I stand believing that what is left to come together to make this work will come together. For I didn't act rashly; I prayed for three months and then moved when told to move.

And the complete assurance of scripture is that because I am trusting the Lord to work this out for Tim's good and mine, I know that I can't really make a mistake. He will work it out for our best. I trust Him. He has never given me reason not to and every reason to lean on Him.

(Proverbs 5:3; Rom. 8:28; Ps. 34:8; Ps. 37:3-6) Blessings, Cheri

Praising Him for the Pressure

A familiar feeling hit me today. I am overwhelmed, overwhelmed by the various resposibilities that are weighing on me, overwhelmed by my inability to juggle all that seems to be required of me. There are balls falling left and right and it bothers me. There are huge balls that are threatening to crush me if they fall, and so I dash here and there in an attempt to keep the balls from dropping. It reminds me of the variety shows I watched as a kid and the plate spinners they would feature. Does anyone remember those? The guys that would set a plate on a thin pole and spin it, move to the next and do the same, continuing down the poles and then running back to spin the others again, and eventually grabbing them off safely or every once in awhile a plate would crash and he'd toss another up on the pole and spin it. Yup, I feel like that.

I started working part time at our garage again in the office. I started homeschooling Tim for eighth grade while looking for a better option for both him and me. I started my fourth year toward my degree and I am totally confused with what I'm doing there. I have been desperately trying to spend some time with my brand new grandson, Saor. Haven't worked on my writing in weeks now. Been fussing with phones and computers that didn't work. School shopping, end of summer events, school meetings, and all the stuff that goes with this portion of life. I feel burnt out without ever getting started.

I can't let anything go and I don't think I am doing anything beyond what I am called to do. So what can be the answer then? "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perserverance. Perserverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." (NIV)

Ok, what I am trying to say is this, I don't feel joyful, but when I think about any testing, any pressure, any persecution (of which I face very little) I can be sure by the Word of God that it will test my faith to develop perserverance. And I want to be perservering because that creates maturity in my faith, and completeness and lacking for nothing. Those are things I have asked the Lord to create in me, to build into my faith. I pray at least daily for wisdom and then I want to complain about the pressure, the weight, the pace, the responsibilities; when in truth I should be praising God for answered prayer!

I don't know how this all will all work out. I don't know for certain that the choices for schooling Tim will work out the way I hope or that I will do a wonderful job on my first assignment for seminary or that I can do the office work and manage to keep up with the teenagers schedules. What I do know though is simple, God's word is true and he is using this to bring my faith into a deeper more complete place, lacking nothing and being granted wisdom for what I need.

So today, I am praising him for the pressure!

Proverbs 17:6

"Do you want to stay for the whole service?" I looked at my husband like he'd lost his mind. Of course I wanted to stay for the whole service. We were only 20 minutes or so into the morning and it was the quiet, reverent, prayer time where we are offered the opportunity to come forward and receive prayer for our needs. Rich had volunteered in the parking lot that morning and was just arriving to our seats. He leaned into my shoulder as he asked, handing his cell phone toward my eyes. I glanced at the phone and saw a text message. I read the message and my heart leaped with the joy and anticipation for the what those words held. Nothing else could have made me react so in the middle of a church service.

"Baby brother meadows born. you can come." My daughter Kristi had delivered her second child and her husband, Dan was inviting us to come see our newest grandson.

I squealed in delight like a child myself, startling some of the worshipers around us. Gathering my things and moving my son out of the row, I stopped to explain to a couple near us and felt my throat tighten with the familiar emotion of overwhelming joy. My baby had her baby; they were both safe.

Saor (Say-er) Meadows entered the world from the safety of his mother's womb at 9:16 am, August 15, 2010 weighing in at 7 lbs. and 19 inches, looking very much like his older brother at birth.

Cadan, Kristi's older child had been present in the bedroom for the birth and watched with apparent ease, reading and singing to the baby. Big brother sang "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" to "Baby Brother" as the tiny new person rested against his mother's side.

When we arrived at the house we sat for a few minutes down stairs waiting. Rich and Tim headed to Duncan Donuts to buy some celebration for when the rest arrived. Even though this is grandbaby number six we knew everyone who could get here would, both our family and Dan's. Our daughter, Melanie was already texting every few minutes to see when she could come.

While Dad and brother headed to the store, I went up with Kristi. The little tiny person lay in the crook of her arm and she lay sideways on the bed covered in a blanket. I looked at her and felt the surge of love and gratitude for the privilege of being her mom. There was my baby girl, my first child, holding her child. She didn't even look tired. Her hair framed her face and her eyes sparkled with pride. I didn't even realize the baby was still attached and the placenta had not delivered yet. Here she was looking ready for the Oscars, well almost. Good work, my sweet girl. I am ever so proud of you. Thanks for this beautiful grandson.

Baby Meadows the second, Grandchild number six, Grandson five, eighteenth dinner table chair for Thanksgiving, came into the world on Sunday morning, expelling a shout for joy from Grammy and a song of joy from his big brother. Saor, you are engraved on our hearts and a beautiful leaf on the tip of our branch. Welcome sweet boy, welcome. Grammy is already singing your song. Thanks be to the gracious and good God, Lord Jesus Creator for the abundance of life and beauty He has brought into my life and the family He has surrounded me with.

I am working on a story about the woman at the well from John 4. I love to sink into the stories of scripture and dig for the treasures and this story in a few short verses is full of them.

One of the things that catches my eye is that she tells the town, "He told me everything about my life!" Wait, look back at the conversation. No he didn't. What's she talking about? But the point is, he told her what she considered to be important points that touched on tender spots; he spoke in details that a stranger should not know. So in essence he had told her about "everything". It convinced her that he was special, sent by God, a prophet. Not quite the fullness of the truth.

Then he proclaims, right out in the open, straight from his mouth, "I am he." She had just talked about "Taheb", "Messiah", "Christ". Now he tells her plainly, "yup, that's me!" Rarely does Christ announce his birthright so clearly and here he is speaking to a Samaritan, a woman, a woman of low morals, and she's who he chooses to reveal himself to? Wow, now I would have picked someone much loftier, worthy, respectable, or reverent. But then, maybe that's at least part of the point. She needed him. She was one of the sick who needed a physician. She was broken and needed fixing. She wasn't put together and on the A list. She wasn't on any list anyone would want to be on. She knew who she was and she knew she was hopeless. Or did she?

When she begins talking religion, because after all what do you talk to a prophet about other than religious stuff (at least those outside the walls of the Kingdom might think so), she shows some signs of hope if not faith. "When Messiah comes he will reveal all things." How did she know that? This miscreant with the improbable moment in history is showing signs of hope, of faith? She seems to be. And Jesus rewards her with the revelation.

Can you imagine the thunder in her heart as his words penetrate her thoughts and understanding? Can you see her face begin to glow? Can you feel the revelation that not only is this Messiah, but he has just revealed the worst about you and not rejected you, but gave acceptance and even respect in conversing and revealing as much as he had? Can you understand the freedom she must have felt as she left that water jar and ran the trail back into town to tell about him to those who have rejected her? I can. I remember that first moment of revelation when the thunder of his words beat within my heart and so many times after as the revelation came and comes afresh and for me. I can see the glow on the friends and loved one as they "get it" when the Holy Spirit reveals something of Messiah to them. I have felt that acceptance and even respect when the rest of the world seemed to have no use for me, but He did. I have felt that freedom that only my Jesus can bring into the moment of weariness and weight. Have you?