Being transparent.....

 I have been in the valley for quite some time now.  

These past few weeks have been something less than desirable for me - emotionally and spiritually.  I have felt like I was digging myself into a hole that just kept getting deeper and deeper, and I feared that it would go so deep that the light would be swallowed by the darkness.  While I know that the enemy uses our emotions to get us into a state of desperation, sometimes I can't seem to pull myself from it. 

As a youth pastor and in leadership, it is hard to express my emotions.  Sometimes I feel like I have to have a persona that I have it all together; that I can deal with whatever life throws at me.  That isn't true.  There are times I want to throw in the towel, there are times I fear I can't handle it any more and there are times that I feel like God is so far from my reach that He has forgotten about me altogether.  Crazy, right?   No, not really.  I am a youth pastor, a leader - but I am still human.  Sometimes I think we put pastors of the church and those in spiritual leadership up on a pedestal and we forget that they struggle too.  So when they admit to having doubts or admit that life isn't as grand as they make it appear - then people start casting judgment and ridicule, questioning their leader's faith and relationship with God.  In my opinion, that's not fair. 

So, the past couple weeks have taken it's toll on me.  I have had my doubts about a lot of things.  I have weighed many options.  I was in a pit of despair so deep that the thought of hitting my knees and crying out to God seemed preposterous and in my heart, I didn't want to do it. 

*Gasp*! 

I know, right?  You would think when I am in such a 'funk', that hitting my knees and reaching out to God would be the logical choice.  And while that is true, in my heart, I didn't feel like it.  I am sure we have all been there.  You just want to sit and fester in the misery and then wonder why you can't shake it.  All the while, God is letting out a heavy sigh, letting you cry on His shoulder and saying to Himself - 'Just cry out to me and I will help you'.  Our own stubbornness overtakes the logical at times.

So I have been in a valley.  A valley is the area between two mountains.  Very little sun hits it and it is a cool, dark place about 80 percent of the time.  That is where I was.  I was trudging the valley, trying to shake the thoughts I was having and just couldn't do it.  The valley was a downhill slope and a slippery one at that.  I could see the mountain and I wanted desperately to be at the peak, basking in the sun (Son) but I just couldn't......perhaps a better choice of words is wouldn't.....

So I continued to trudge, growing colder by the hour and seeing the mountains looming over me as if taunting me with their golden peaks.  I could reach out and touch them but in my valley of despair, I felt like I was undeserving.

It is in those valleys that I learn a lot about myself and a lot about God.  When you get to a point that there seems to be no hope, that everything is going wrong and you cannot focus on the positive because the negative seems so overwhelming.....it is there that God speaks out in a whisper.  It is there that you have to listen closely and reach out to touch the hem of His cloak because if you don't, He will pass by and you will fall to your face knowing you should have tried harder.

In the Gospels, Jesus was passing by a large crowd when a woman who had been bleeding many, many years (12) sees him.  She fights through the crowd.  At this point, Jesus had quite the following.  Everywhere he went people bombarded him, wanting to see him and touch him and beg him for a miracle.  That is why we read Jesus going out on a boat or going off alone quite often.  He did it to have his alone time with his Father and to get away from the hordes of people. 

So you can imagine the crowd that was pushing and shoving just go get a glimpse of this miracle worker.  So this woman knew if she just got close enough, if she just reached out and touched the hem of his garment she would be healed.  She had to push and fight through the crowd.  She probably got hit, stepped on, pushed and called a few choice names.  However, she continued through the pain and fought through the people.  She didn't just sit on the sidelines and wait for Jesus and hoped she could catch him on the fly.....no, she pressed in and was determined to not let her moment pass her by.

She finally broke through and her hand reached out and grabbed a hold of Jesus' hem.  It was then that Jesus stopped and called out.  He knew someone had touched him and he knew it was the woman.  However, he asked who had touched him.  He didn't ask because he didn't know....he asked so the woman would come forward and admit openly that she had been the one.  That she was in such desperation that she fought through the pain and knew if she just reached out to Jesus, touching him would give her the hope she needed.  Slowly, she stepped forward and admitted it was she.  And Jesus, lovingly, said her faith had made her well.  (Mark 5:25-34)

When we get in a place of desperation, we have to reach out.  We have to fight through the pain and reach out to Jesus.  Even when it looks like all is against us, we have to have the faith that if we just reach out to him, he will be there to help us through it.   We can't just wait on him to pass by and hope that we can get a glimpse and that will be enough....no, we have to fight and press in towards him.

So, having been through a couple weeks of confusion and desperation, I have finally taken that step towards the mountain.  My hands have gripped the rocks and my feet have dug in.  I haven't made it to the top just yet but I am well on my way.  It will be hard and I will have to fight through the pain and the enemy's voice just to hear God's whisper.......but I will make it to the top. 

Being in the valley is hard.  It is scary and sometimes a lonely place.  But it is there that we learn faith.  It is there that we lean on God's understanding and not our own.

He never said it would be easy......he merely said it would be worth it.

Down with the sickness.....

Father's Day is this week-end.  I didn't really think much of it until this morning when I woke up.  This will be the 19th Father's Day that my dad hasn't been here for me to give him some cruddy key chain or a hammer.

Last year I had a "falling out" with my mom.  I won't really go into details because that is undignified.  However, I hadn't talked to her in almost a year.  That is forever with me and her.  I always made a point to see her every other month or so.  I didn't even see her on Christmas last year and the last time I didn't see her on Christmas, I was 18 and in jail.

To be honest, I thought I was okay with it.  I figured she hurt me and I deserved to be angry.  Isn't that always how it is?  We feel we have the RIGHT to be angry based on how others treat us.  However, the past few months, it gnawed inside me.  Finally, I took the step and contacted her and met her and her husband for lunch.  While it was awkward at first, we soon got over the tenseness in the air and were chatting and laughing like nothing ever happened.

Sometimes we must take the step to right what is wrong.  We have no RIGHT to remain angry no matter what anyone does to us.  If that were the case, Jesus has the ultimate reason to hold a grudge.  No, instead, He gives us a warning in Matthew.

Matthew 6:14-15 "For if you forgive other people when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.  But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins."

Forgiveness feels good. It lifts a weight off our shoulders.  Not only that, but instead of being angry or saying venomous statements about my mom or the situation, my children saw me step up and do the right thing.  They saw me swallow my anger and reach out when I should have had every "right" to be angry.  That is a valuable lesson I could never teach them with words; they had to learn it with actions.

So what does this have to do with Father's Day? 

As I thought more and more about my mom, I knew I had to make right what was wrong between us.  I knew that if something (God forbid) had happened to my mom while we were still in this immature game of not speaking to one another, I would live with an insatiable regret.

I speak all the time on how I wish I had one more day - one more hour - with my dad.  Even though we weren't the best of friends.....even though our relationship was strained.....even though fond childhood memories of he and I are non-existent......I still wish I had a moment with him.  What would I say?  How would I act? 


Why do we wait until someone passes to say "what if" or "I wish"?  Don't wait.  Forgive often, love much and smile infectiously.  Don't look back with regret with what you can change today.  It isn't too late to mend the relationships that are broken.  Now, I understand that as you read this, you may be thinking of someone that brings up angry feelings at this very moment.  Perhaps someone did something that is truly unforgivable in your eyes or something so atrocious that you can never trust them again.


Forgiveness is not trust.  You have to protect yourself and your family.  Forgiveness means I no longer hold this transgression against you.  It doesn't mean we will be as we once were but it does mean that we can move past this and I can be a better person because of it. 


If you are still thinking - "There is no way.  My heart is too hard.  The emotion is too raw."  Just remember.....

"Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?”
 Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times." (Matthew 18:21-22)


So dad, I wish you were here this Father's Day.  Despite the anger and hostility we had towards one another, I now know that it was teenage angst that created the anger I had inside of me.  The bitterness you had was due to being ill and not being the man you imagined yourself to be because of it.  As an adult, I understand and I forgive.  My heart swells with pride when I speak of you.  You are the best man I have ever known and none will compare.  


Thinking of you, Dad, makes me long for heaven that much more.  

My handsome dad, about 6 years before I was born

My dad (and mom) about a year before he passed

Friday's aren't what they used to be....

As I sit here on Friday night, I reflect on past Fridays.  I seem to do it every week, for some unknown reason.  

Fridays used to involve drinking myself into a slobbering oblivion.  Not that I am proud of such moments; they are what they are. 

Drinking was a week-end thing with me ever since I was 18.  I would count down the days until Friday so I could go out and party for the week-end.  It usually involved me drinking so much that I was miserable the next day therefore I would stay holed up in my room.  Alcohol was my week-end companion.

I was quite the drinker.  I can remember always having someone buy me vodka and as soon as it was handed to me, I would twist off the cap and drink it.  We used to have drinking competitions and rarely did I lose.  My drink of choice - whiskey, but in reality, anything would do.

This continued for many years.  I always say I am lucky to be alive.  There were many times I didn't remember the happenings of the night before.  There were times I would wake up, lying in my own vomit.  There were times that I can remember bits and pieces of the night and I thank God that I don't remember the rest.  I did drugs along with drinking.  I didn't ask questions....if you handed me something, I would take it without thinking of the consequences.  When Matt and I got together, he joined me in the week-end excursions but sometimes didn't drink.  So he would get angry with me and we would have knock out, drag out fights.  We broke up many, many times. 


I even went to church drunk on a couple occasions.  I would walk in there and act like I had it all together when in reality I reeked of alcohol and looked worse for wear.

In 2005, that all changed.  When I accepted Christ, while down on my knees, I thought that the road of drugs and alcohol would be a hard one to trek.  However, it was the opposite.  God completely wiped the desire. 

Shortly after we accepted Christ, we went on a cruise.  While there, I figured I would grab a drink from the club.  I took two sips and couldn't stomach it any longer.  I haven't touched any alcohol since and that was 7 years ago.

I can't say it was entirely easy but it was a choice.  I chose to cut ties with my friends that wanted to party every week-end.  I chose to stay away from places where I could easily obtain an alcoholic drink.  After awhile, it never crossed my mind to drink.  Now, I can hang out with others while they drink and not have an issue.

Now, I am not saying drinking is a horrible sin.  The bible does speak about drinking and says that we should not drink to get drunk.  It also says that we should always be of sound mind.....and once we take one drink of alcohol, it starts to impair our judgment.  I am saying, for me, it is an issue on several levels.  First, I couldn't drink just one.  I never "socially" drank.  I drank to get drunk, otherwise what is the point?  Secondly, I am a youth pastor and a member of our church.  I cannot be seen drinking when I teach sobriety.  Third, and lastly, it just isn't something that I think would please God.  I can't go back to my old ways and say that I am a changed person.

So if you, or someone you know, is struggling....know that they CAN change.  Don't loose hope or give up.  When I gave up drinking, no one believed me.  They tempted me and tried to trip me up.  They kept inviting me and after awhile they stopped because my answer was always the same.  I had to give up close friends and had to go a different path than everyone I knew.  

I remember one evening at Applebee's Matt looked at the alcohol menu and said "Do you ever have the urge to just have one?"  My reply, "Nope, never."  Matt, "Wow, really?  I am surprised."   Even he was surprised at how God had changed me.

So, as I sit here on a Friday night - I am drinking my flavored water, sitting in my PJ's and working on Vacation Bible School stuff.  Yea, it isn't all that exciting to some.  However, for me....it is a perfect Friday evening.

Friday's aren't what they used to be.  And I am okay with that.  

I don't handle change well.....

*sigh*

As the years go by, I get a little more freaked out.  My kids both have birthdays coming up, Cheyenne's is today and Caleb's is in July.  They are growing up so fast and soon driving will be introduced, college choices will be discovered and the work force will be part of their lives.  That literally freaks me out.

I always thought I would be okay when the time came for all of the milestones to hit.  However, I am quickly realizing that I am not ready for them at all.  Honestly, it makes me want to cry.  I try to remind myself that there is a season for everything and as they get older, the seasons may change but each one is good in a different way.   As much as I tell myself this, it doesn't change the fact that I don't like the thought of my kids dating, driving or leaving home.   I don't know if I can deal with it.

With that being said, today is my daughter's birthday.  She is an absolutely amazing young lady.  She was born via C-Section (scheduled) and it was not a pleasant experience.  I had my son via C-Section and it was a breeze, however Cheyenne decided to be difficult and she has been quite the opinionated one ever since she could voice her opinion.

She was a pretty adorable kid.  She had brown hair, blue eyes and a smile that would melt the hardest hearts.  She had a pacifier until she was almost 4.  There were many times we made late night runs to Wal-Mart for fear of no sleep because of a screaming toddler demanding her comforting pacifier.  She would talk and we would always say - "Sis, take the nuk out."  She would pluck it from her mouth, say what needed to be said, then pop it right back in.  Many times she would just try to talk around it, sounding a wee bit like Sylvester the cat.

Speaking of talking, her speech was pretty bad.  It wasn't until she was about 6 years old that other people outside of us could understand her.  Her therapist said she had a condition where her brain liked to omit or switch letters.  So for the word "like" she may say "ike" or for "that" she may say "thaz".  They explained it like a light switch that was off and they had to teach her how to turn it on.  It was very frustrating for her.  She would try and try to communicate and we would have to translate.  There were times even we had no idea what she was saying and would have to ask her brother, Caleb.  He always understood her.  It was so bad we called it "Chey-nese".  Three years of speech and she is good to go.  There are still some words she struggles with but over all she has come a long way.

She was the one who got us into church.  Without her persistence, we may never have went.  Thank God He used her to reach us.  She was baptized at the age of 8 and has loved God and the church ever since.

She has been a tremendous blessing to us.  She is so smart and funny and she marches to the beat of her own drum.  There are times she wears something that makes me raise my eyebrows but then I laugh it off because she is who she is.  I raised her to be herself and be happy with who she is - and she is just that. 

So, in light of her birthday, I just wanted to jot down some things that make me smile as I think back on her last 15 years......

She loved Teletubbies - LaLa was her favorite (she said Ya-Ya)
Her nuk (pacifier) was part of her body for 4 years of her life.
She loved to cuddle, and still does.
She loves animals.
She loves her friends dearly.
She is quick to anger but also quick to forgive.
She enjoys just being around people.
She wanted to be a culinary artist but is now thinking of psychology.
She loves to bake and cook.
She loves to draw and is quite good at it.
She loves - LOVES - unicorns and believes that God has one on standby for when she gets to heaven (and I believe that too).
She isn't quick to give her heart away.
She loves God.
She has passion in everything she does.
Her favorite colors are purple and pink.
She loves books and reading.
She still watches Clubhouse Disney in the mornings.
She has an imagination that cannot be surpassed.
Her feelings get hurt easily but only because she loves so passionately.
She has her own sense of style.
She is quick witted.
She is and always has been a clown, loving to make people laugh.
She is smart and surprises me daily.
She has an amazing singing voice.
She is cute as a button.
She used to play in the dryer when she was little.
For the first 5 years of  her life, it wasn't uncommon for us to wake up with her in the bed with us.
I adore her and am truly blessed that God chose me to be her mother.

With that being said, here is my prayer for her --

I pray that you seek God with your whole heart and never stop.  I pray that as you grow older and boys come and go, that the one God has chosen for you will have to seek out God to get to you.  I pray he is smart, funny and treats you like the princess you are.  I pray that he is as unique and amazing as you are so that you both can laugh as you watch Spongebob together.  I pray that the journey you take on this earth is abundantly blessed.  I pray that everything your hands touch and every place your feet land are a blessing to God.  I pray that as you transition from your teen years into adulthood that you take a deep breath and enjoy the little things around you.  I pray that the choices you make are wise ones and that you include me in your life long after you are a mother of your own.  I pray that you never get tired of me calling you, meddling in your life or just being there when you need someone.  I pray that you always laugh hard and play in the rain.  I pray that you seek out happiness even when the world seems against you.  I pray that whenever and wherever you are in life, you will always know that I love you and that I will drop everything to be there for you.  


Most of all, I pray for happiness.  


I love you.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CHEYENNE!

You were built for battle; you were made for war!

As I sit here and eat my Captain America fruit snacks (holla'), I think back to last night.  My mind has been blown.

Last night was our annual youth rally that my husband and I started a couple years ago.  It began by seeing a need.  We would take our youth to annual conventions but it began to get more expensive with hotel, meals, transportation and not to mention the registration fee.  We would scramble to try to find ways to raise money and many of the kids just couldn't afford it.  So, we stopped going.

In 2010, Matt said - "Why can't we just hold something here?"

Well, why couldn't we?!

So we planned and scrambled and on very little funds we created an overnight event.  Those that wanted to stay overnight we offered the floor.  We found that overnight is pointless.  While it is good for the fellowship, it does nothing for the spirit.  The youth would stay up so late (as well as the leaders) that when morning came no one could focus and, quite frankly, I just wanted to go to bed.

So we decided to limit it to an all day event the following year in 2011.  That worked amazingly well.

Therefore, we have live music, guest speakers, drama performances, give-aways, a door prize and dinner.  All....for....FREE.  When this began, we knew we wanted it to be free.  If we had to fund raise, borrow, ask for donations, pull money out of our pocket...whatever the case may be, we knew we did not want to charge an admission fee.

And we haven't....and won't.

I never like to speak at these because I do 99% of the planning, the promotions, the booking, the organization, the shopping, etc.  So I feel like speaking just makes the event look like it is a self-promotion of "me".  However, God told me that he wanted me to speak this year and I was like - "God, are you sure?"  Aren't we usually like that when God tells us to do something?  God, the maker of the universe, the creator of all things, the omnipotent, the omnipresent, the lover of my soul - "are you sure?"  I am betting he chuckles when we all to often ask that question.

He said that He was sure and when I whined about it and said that I couldn't give a message like the others.  God just said - "Talk to them" (meaning the audience).

So I planned my message and said "Ok, God.  I am ready." 

Matt, my husband, is a pastor through and through.  He can look at a piece of cardboard and deliver a sermon using it as a message illustration.  Me, I just see a piece of cardboard.  So last night I was good.  I rarely get nervous but once it drew closer to my time to speak, I had to go off alone with God for a minute and whine a bit more.   It went something like this -

Me: "God, I am about to freak out here.  Matt gave a message that was phenomenal.  Shannon delivered such a unique message.  God, I am not sure what I say will hold any value.  I am not sure that what I have to see will hold their interest.  I mean, who wants to hear me?  I am not like Matt or even Shannon, God."

*silence*

Me: "God, you gotta give me something here.  I want you to have the glory and I want to reach this entire sanctuary from the youngest to the oldest but I can't do it without your help.  I am not like Matt who can get up there and preach it like nobodies business."

God: "I never asked you to be them.  I asked you to be you.  That is all I ever wanted."

I like to call that a God Smack.  I was like - whoa.  Ok God, I got this.

So I did my thing, shared my testimony and the altar call was fantastic.

Overall we had 5 youth groups represented there last night and about 130 people in attendance, almost doubled in attendance from last year.

God is good.

A few moments that touched my heart....when we had worship (which was amazingly done by Shannon Callaway and Caleb Coley) I just wanted them to get what it means to worship the King.  We are lifting up praise to Him, giving Him everything we have.  And, boy did they.  There were young girls on their knees during worship, just pouring their hearts out to God.  They were laying it all out there as the crowd around them danced and sang.  They were meeting God, then and there.  They didn't care that there was a room full of people or that no one else was down on the floor.  On their knees, right where they were, they gave it all to God.  Wow.

The second moment was at the end of my message, I delivered an altar call.  I asked who wanted to accept Jesus and many people lifted a hand in the air (praise Jesus) but then I just spoke from my heart to theirs and told them if they wanted stuff to change.  If they wanted to storm the gates and take back what the enemy took from them - their joy, peace, happiness - then when I say "amen" to run forward.  I was getting ready to pray and saw many already making their way to the aisles, unable to contain the need to race to the front and bear their hearts to God.  At the moment I said "amen", it was a rush of young people as they ran down the aisles and fell to their knees to meet God.  There were broken hearts, discouragement and loneliness; all crying out to God.

I merely stood there, almost in tears as I see 90% of the room bowed down.  The altar area was full and so was my heart.  I began to see young people turn to those next to them and wrap their arms around each other and weep.  I saw young men reach out and hold the hand of the young man next to them and pray.  The area was so thick that the prayer warriors had a hard time walking and not stepping on anyone.  And this wasn't for 5 or 10 minutes and then they got up and went back to their seats. Oh no.  This was for an hour.  There was weeping, crying out to God, bowing down to the King of Kings and laying it all out for him to carry.

THAT is why we do this.  We do not do it for personal gain.  There is no personal gain to be had!  We do it to make a difference.  Built for Battle was created to equip this generation with the necessary tools to go out onto the battlefield for friends and family.  This generation is seeking.  There, for a time, people thought young people were lost, hopeless.  However, God has other plans.  He is telling us that if we will just 'talk to them' and let them know that we know what they are going through, they will listen.  If we don't undermine their emotions or say how they are just 'unruly' teenagers, that they will respect us and listen to what we are trying to convey.  They want what everyone wants - love and acceptance.  And if they get it nowhere else, they will get it at B4B......

So, I promised I would post a blog and said I would say next year's theme.  This year's was STORM THE GATES.  So, drum roll please.....

Built for Battle '13

SOUND THE ALARM

Numbers 10:9

"When you go into battle in your own land against an enemy who is oppressing you, sound a blast on the trumpets. Then you will be remembered by the Lord your God and rescued from your enemies."

So, get ready......you think this year blew your mind?  God has already flooded me with ideas for next year.  You are going to FREAK.  Too bad you have to wait a year to find out ;-)

God is good.

Remember - you were built for battle; you were made for war!
 

Whistle while you work....

I am a control freak.  

There.

I said it.

It is a mentality that I am trying to work on.  I have a lot of things going on and when I have an idea, I feel no one can see the vision for it like I can.  I figure no one can do it like I can, therefore if I want it done in a way that I won't worry about it....I must do it myself.

Whew, there are a lot of "I"s in that short paragraph.  The problem with this is I tend to complain when I am tired, achy and just plain fed up.  I take on projects then when I get frustrated because I have so much to do and won't delegate any of it, I will grumble and think that no one even acknowledges the work I do....or cares.

Now, let me say I am not one to accept gratitude and compliments gracefully.  I find it awkward and just smile and say "thanks".  I just want to do the work, get it done and succeed.  I don't need to have my name on anything I do....I just want it done and done right.  Failing is never an option.

The problem with this is I get so stressed out that I make myself sick, my back gets tight and aches, migraines set in and I am just a grump.  Whoa....if I am doing work for the Lord and grumbling about it the entire time, should I be doing it at all? 

We should do the work with a happy heart and without complaint. 

Colossians 3:23 states "Whatever you do, work at it with all of your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men."  

That puts things in perspective, doesn't it?  Perhaps I need to get this one tattooed somewhere so I don't forget it!

"Whatever you do"....that means everything.  That isn't pinpointing a specific task.  It says whatever you do, meaning all you do.  We should do everything as if we are doing the work unto God Himself, not man. 

If you have a job, do it well.  Do it as if you are doing it for the Lord.  Let's face it, ultimately you wouldn't even HAVE the job if it wasn't for the grace of the Father.  Let's be real.

Proverbs 16:3 says that if we commit our work to the Lord then our plans will succeed. 

So, as the busy season is upon me and I try to cram so much stuff into a short amount of time, I need to remember 3 very important things.

1. Work with a joyful heart.  If I grumble and complain while doing the Lord's work, then I shouldn't be doing it at all.

2. Take time out for my family.  I can't run, run, run and do everything without taking a step back, take a deep breath, share some laughter and create some memories.

3. Take time for myself *gasp*.  I rarely do this.  I can never shut my brain off to just relax.  Other ladies talk about bubble baths.  HA!  I jump in the shower and jump out.  I don't have time to waste sitting in water that is going to quickly get cold and has my grime from the day in it - um - ew.   I digress.  I need to just take time to do something I enjoy that doesn't involve the current project I am involved in.  That's a toughie.

So, if I can learn to manage those 3 key points and delegate more, perhaps I wouldn't be so stressed out. 

A girl can dream, can't she?

Crazy love.....

I sit here late this evening and nothing is on television.  I am done working for the day therefore I sit, sipping my tea and flipping the channels.  Without hesitation, I stop on TBN to watch "The Passion of the Christ".  Mel Gibson directed and co-wrote The Passion and it was released in 2004.  It was so graphic that it resulted in an "R" rating.

The Passion depicts Christ's last 12 hours on earth.  Mel Gibson was standing at a window, contemplating jumping out of it.  He thought it would be easier than going on.  It was then that he was reminded of the Gospels and he stepped from the window and hit his knees crying out - "Help".  It was then that he knew he must make this movie.

I know there is controversy with this movie saying the violence is too much or that the blood and gore took away from the message.  I disagree.  I think this movie is anointed from start to finish.  I have watched it many times and cry each time I watch it.  Not just a tear or two but almost a weeping.  Too much violence?  The 'cat of nine tails' they used to scourge Jesus with was a strap of leather with 9 bands fingering from it and on the end of each of those 9 bands was shards of glass and rock.  When it would make contact with the body, it gripped the flesh and ripped it away.  Scripture says that he was beaten so severely that he was no longer even recognized as a human (Isaiah 52:14-15).  So was the movie brutal? Yes!  Then again, so was Christ's flogging and crucifixion.

But this blog is to not debate on what critics have or have not said - what do they know anyway (haha)?

As I watch the movie, my heart goes towards Mary, Jesus' mother.  I think we tend to forget that Jesus had an earthly mother.  She gave 33 years of HER life into raising him.  She gave birth to him, nursed him, watching him grow, fed him, played with him and taught him.  They had a special bond that only a mother and son can have.

She watched him dragged from the garden, persecuted and then beaten brutally.  As a mother of a son, I could not imagine her thoughts at that moment.  The movie was so beautifully done as the camera focused on not only Jesus but also the emotions his mother was going through.

After he was beaten and taken away, Mary lowered herself to the ground and began to mop up the blood with her cloth.  As a mother, I can understand this.  She was "busying" herself as to not deal with what she just saw and what the inevitable outcome was going to be.  She didn't know what else to do.....so she began to clean up her son's blood.

I think we forget that Jesus was a human man.  He felt the same emotions we did, felt pain and sorrow.  He didn't just magically take the beating and had no pain (although he 'could' have if that had been the will of his Father).  He felt every beating.  He felt every nail.  He. Felt. Everything.  He did it all for us.  Wow.  Mind blown.

As he continues down the road, bearing his cross, he falls.  This particular moment makes my heart break.  Mary watches as her son falls and has a flashback to when he was a toddler and falls on the ground.  He cries out and she rushes to his aide.  That is what mothers do.  They know the sound of their child's cry.  They know, just by the sound of the cry, whether that child is truly in pain.  When the mother knows, she rushes to make sure the child is okay.  That flashback helps us, the viewers, make the connection that she is truly his mother in every sense of the word.  And as Christ falls, she rushes to his aide, knowing the cry he lets out is one of true pain.  As a mother, she wants to fix it.  Only this time.....she cannot.

As the tired and beaten Christ makes his way down the road, he flashes back to merely a week prior.  He is riding the colt donkey into the city and the townspeople are waving palm fronds, excited for his arrival.  Those same people who welcomed him gladly, were now condemning him.  How quickly one's opinions of another can easily be swayed.  His heart must have been broken.

When he falls another time, the soldier says that he cannot go on any more and they grab a man from the crowd, Simon.  After much resistance, he helps Christ carry the cross for fear of punishment.  After a few moments, Christ falls yet again and the townspeople swarm in and start to kick and beat on the already fallen man.  Simon screams and yells at them to stop and says - "If you don't stop I won't carry that cross another step.  I don't care what you do to me."  And they all laugh.  Do we have that kind of spiritual courage?  When people are 'beating' up on our Christ do we yell "STOP, I don't care what you do to me......I will not let you beat up on him any more"?  

Jesus hangs on the cross for 6 hours.  Typically a death on the cross was quick due to blood loss or asphyxiation.  However, as he hung there he called out to his father, feeling forsaken but knowing he hasn't been forgotten (don't we feel that way sometimes?).   He looks down and makes sure that not only his mother is taken care of but his beloved John too.  Then he speaks up and asks God to "forgive them, they know not what they do".  He wasn't only speaking of the men there that day.  He was also speaking about us, you and me.  He was already speaking forgiveness over us before we were even a thought in our parents' heads.  On the cross, beaten and bleeding, just had NAILS put through his hands and feet....and his mind was on his mother, his beloved.....and us.

Then as he dies and they lower him down, Mary looks into the camera.  She is looking at us as if we are to blame.  Whenever something doesn't make sense, we try to make it make sense by casting blame somewhere.  As a mother, she was not only mournful but angry.  Yes, he had to die....but in a mother's heart, she probably hoped there was another way.

But.......we also see the 'devil' howl in pain.  Once Jesus took his last breath, the enemy knew the clock has started and his time was short.  He knew he was defeated.  After 3 days, Christ resurrects (there are over 500 different accounts of people seeing the resurrected Christ) and is sure to show himself to his mother and those closest to him before ascending into heaven with promises of a return.

As I said, this movie makes me cry.  However, I feel that watching it helps me realize exactly what he went through.  I have watched other movies depicting Jesus (Jesus of Nazareth was a household favorite growing up) but never have I felt such strong emotions watching one as I do this one.  Never have I seen one depict the brutality of the last few hours of Christ's life.  We need to see that.  We need to understand the price he paid for us.  He did that all for US.  He didn't do it for himself, his mother or even God himself.  He did it so we can live eternally with HIM.

That's some crazy love right there.