Sugar and Spice vs Puppy Dog Tails

So, after having a short conversation with a friend, I started to really think about the issue of whether guys and girls can "just be friends." Up until a year ago, I never even knew this was a debatable topic.

Now, in all of my life, I have never met a single girl who declared that guys and girls cannot be just friends. In fact, it was not until the past year or so that I even met a guy who held the view that it is a rare case in which a boy and girl could be friends. I have still yet to find a girl who holds this view, but I have met a couple of guys who hold this perspective.

So, it got me to thinking - why? Do they have a point? Am I just naive?

Here is what I have come to conclude:

The guys who hold this view tend to be the ones who have had little to no experience with a female just being a friend (in reviewing each one who has told me their view on this, they all had this same exact thing in common - having no female friends beyond the ones they have dated). The ones who hold the view that members of the opposite sex cannot be friends are the ones who mistake the blame on the issue/topic - the problem does not rest in men and women being able to be friends, but in THEM not being able to have a woman as a friend (and for the female just like them, the one who cannot have a man as a friend).

These are the people who usually fall into one of two categories: "Easy," and "Player."

People who cannot have a nonsexual friendship with a member of the opposite sex only reveal a tragic flaw in themselves, and especially in the manner in which they perceive the opposite sex, as well as how they value themselves.

A girl who cannot manage to form a friendship with a man without having it turn into being "date buddies," "kissing buddies," "man of the week buddies," or even "boyfriend status," are girls who are themselves insecure. They are also the girls who objectify men and are likely ones who will struggle maintaining a relationship with a man and are also probably more likely to be ones who are easily dissatisfied and are quick to bounce from one man to another.

Similarly, men who can count on one hand (if that) the number of legitimate female friendships they have had tend to be the same men who loosely and casually do nothing but date girls. They hop from one to the other, often "dating" multiple girls at once. They are the ones who, as a result, tend to be the players. They objectify the women, even if they do not intend to do so. It is a reflection of their mentality in which they see girls through the lenses of "dateable" instead of "friendable."

You see, the error is with each individual, and the ones who cannot have guys and girls as nothing more then friends are in fact the minority! Looking all throughout high school, I see this idea being in the wrong, for most of my friends were all male, and they never pursued anything with me, nor I with them. Most of these guys I still count as friends and talk to, 4 years later. And at my university, I'm fairly certain that should one of these men tell one of the CBU guys that he did not think guys and girls could be "just friends," that he would be laughed off of the campus. Similarly, a girl who stated the same notion would likely be stared at in shock, for throughout CBU, you will find guys and girls being JUST FRIENDS! And yes, SINGLE guys and SINGLE girls. Let's not play semantics or state technicalities.

In fact, I say that it is a shame and is something to be pitied when a guy admits to not having had a female as just a good friend, and vice-versa. In my experience, the friendships I have had with my male friends have so shaped my personality and have overjoyed my heart that I cannot picture ever not having them in my life. Yes, male friends are different than female friends, but it is a vital difference that positively contribute to my life and has actually shaped my view of men and has contributed to the manner in which I am able to respect men and see them beyond appearances and "possibilities." They add such humor, warmth, and laughter. They have also been some of my greatest supporters, confidants, accountability partner, and advice-givers. To imagine a girl who has not been able to form a relationship with a guy as just a solid friendship instead as a potential boyfriend or hook-up is to imagine someone who is missing one of the purer blessings of life.

And, to guys who have not had a good female friend . . . is it any wonder these guys happen to also be the players and more unstable ones and ones who "hook-up?" Male and female friendships are VITAL in teaching men and women how to treat one another as more then sexual objects! It teaches respect. It broadens the mind beyond animalistic instincts. Guys who hve not had this are ones who will struggle being strong men, for they will likely be more prone to being unfaithful while in relationships simply because they have not learned how to look at a woman as anything more then a "potential." Compare a man who first sees a woman as just a woman with one who just knows how to see one as someone they could see themselves hooking up with . . . and you will likely note who has the army of male friends and who has a mixture of male and female friendships. Guys . . . I think those who have good female friends will tell you that there is something that is missing when you don't have a girl you can call a good friend.

This topic has also generated feelings of anger and frustration, for it it such an ignorant and sexist perspective from an overly sexualized society. Each time I have heard this view, I have to grit my teeth at seeing how this corrupted world has infected the minds of so many, including men and women who are strong Christians. What kind of world do we live in when people believe that a man and woman cannot be honest friends, but must always have alternative motifs? Are men and women really that disrespectful of one another? It is almost heart-breaking to think about what an insulting idea it is, and it is horrible that I live in a world in which I cannot grab coffee with a male friend without so many believing that there MUST be other motives, yet had I grabbed coffee with my best female friend, no one bats an eye.

Why? Why the double-standard?

It's ridiculous and only shows how society has been able to shape mens' minds into seeing women as things to date FIRST, instead of individuals that they can form a pure relationship with. It is a society that trains women to perceive men as pleasure objects to treat them to dinner and "complete them," instead of seeing men as individuals who have so much more to offer then a sushi date and movie.

And we truly wonder why infidelity in relationships is through the roof? We are amazed about divorce being so rampant?

Friendships between a man and woman are one of the biggest teachers outside of immediate family and church about how to view and treat a man and a woman.

The issue is not whether a man and woman can be friends and only friends (heck, this does not include ones that naturally, over time, lead to a relationship). The issue is with how the guy and girl views a guy and girl. If a guy has not had any female friends, the logical conclusion is not to say that these things are rare, but to look at himself. Same goes for the girl. Perhaps, just perhaps, the flaw comes because EVERY guy and girl the guy/girl becomes "friends" with are ones they already decided upon meeting they wanted to "date." In that case, there was never a real friendship, but the flaw is with that person, not the concept. In this case, the boy needs to grow up and become a man, and the girl needs to cut off the pigtails and act like a woman.

And, also . . . what is with this perpetual fear guys and girls have with being placed into the "friend" category?! Okay, all you Christian men and women, you should WANT to be in that category FIRST, before you are ever in the category that places you in a position to make another compromise. You see, EVERY relationship should begin with friendship, and it should evolve into best friends prior to evolving into a physical relationship of any form. It is so immature when a guy or girl refuses to get close enough to another for fear that this category eliminates potential for leading to dating. If anything, the healthiest of relationships seem to be the ones that began with mere friendship that naturally evolved into something more. I had a friend from church tell me that, regarding male and female relations, they fall into one of three categories: husband/wife, brother/sister in Christ, and a threat. The guys and girls who just pursue after guys/girls for relationships likely fall into the "threat" categories instead of taking the friendship phase that enable the maintaining of a healthy and Godly relationship.

Finally, even looking at it from a Biblical perspective shows just how silly and corrupted a view it is that guys and girls cannot be friends. It has nothing to do with gender, but with the mind and mentality of the person. Maybe it just takes a mature person to be able to have this type of relationship? Scripturally, what evidence is there that man and woman cannot be friends? Are we not told that we are all members of one body and are told to work in unity together? Perhaps God needs to be informed that only guys and girls who are in relationships that do this, because they cannot just be friends. Maybe there is a "female arm" and "male arm"? Forgive the sarcasm, but for Christians who hold this view, I have to wonder what Bible they are reading, for the view is not only an insult to the Biblical practice of friendship and agape, but it is also an insult to the individual and to God! God created us to be in fellowship! Man AND woman. To be friends! To work together! It is also a mental view that is sinful, for it insinuates that the mind is controlled by nothing but lust and desire. Surely a Godly man can control his urges and thoughts enough that he can be a true and sincere friend to a woman and not one who only has the goal to win her over. Surely a Godly woman can control her own selfish wants and develop a friendship with a man and see him as a brother in Christ before anything else.

I just think that this whole issue is only an issue because of how deprived this world is that it is succeeding in dividing the body of Christ by gender and foolishly teaching men and women that there cannot be one of the purest things this world still has left between them - friendship.

1 Corinthians 1:10

"I appeal to you, brothers, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you agree with one another so that there may be no divisions among you and that you may be perfectly united in mind and thought."

Their story...



...is as individual and personal as the children themselves. It’s the story of sons and daughters, their brothers and sisters, their families, their parents. It’s the story of the girl next door, and the one on the other side of the world. It’s about people just like us.

Their story is our story.

As most stories do, the beginnings have a hundred different roots. How a child becomes a commodity on the sex market is a complicated tale. It has many settings, diverse characters, varied locations and lasting repercussions.



Sometimes it begins with the making of an orphan. Left alone without the protection of a family, a 4 year old Ugandan boy can easily be exploited by pimps and pedophiles, brothel owners and con men.

Another story begins with the rape of a girl by a stranger, friend, or family member. In many cultures, there is considered to be no restoration from this tragic injustice. A Cambodian girl at age 6 would then be considered stained, only deemed useful as a sex object in the local karaoke bar.

A 15 year old Russian girl can be sold by her parents to a pimp unknowingly, thinking she is going to receive an education, training, a better life. They find out they’ve been deceived and she’s been trafficked, but it’s too late.

A boy from El Salvador can be given over to a life of prostitution at 10 years of age by an uncle. The reasoning: a life of emotional and mental pain is better than starvation and homelessness.

An American teenager, with lonely days and empty pockets, takes a stranger at the mall up on his offer...and the cycle of slavery begins.

Whatever the reason, wherever the path, the end is the same. A childhood is destroyed. A child is destroyed. Dreams for a bright future are taken away and pain becomes their companion. With no one to speak for them...they become silent.


Facts:

This is a true story. And it becomes the biography of 2 children every minute (JFCI); approximately 10 million children worldwide every year (ECPAT).

They’re absorbed into an illegal network which generates $28 billion a year from commercial sexual exploitation (ILO).

Human trafficking is the second most profitable crime in the world.

It is a global emergency.

To redeem their stories, there must be a reaction to this injustice.

------

Our reaction...

...is to respond to God’s heart for this injustice. A reaction, not a movement, will sustain long-term change with this issue. A movement fades and loses momentum, but God’s heart of compassion never ceases. Therefore, we must always react to His heart.

Being a voice -

If we don’t act on behalf of the silent, who will?

The brothel owner won’t...he’s making too much money from the sale of his fresh new commodity.

The mourning aunt won’t...her husband has the final word and his blows are shattering when he is questioned.

The police won’t... the bribe is too sweet and the money so desired.

The deceived parents will weep over the lack of justice in their nation and never raise their voice. It would be futile.

The tourist will look the other way...he’s just here for a vacation, not to get involved.

We must speak!


As Christians, it is our duty to confront the injustices in this world, yet in a nation that blazes bright red as a hot spot for human trafficking, we are deathly silent. Perhaps it is denial. Perhaps it is ignorance. But neither are excuses, and it is our silence that silences the cries of a child in pain and chains. Our silence aides the captors and abusers. Our silence is the greatest weapon used by Darkness to shun the Light . Our silence places the money in the hands of a pimp at the expense of the purity and childhood of an innocent.

Maybe we believe that because we live in America that it is far away from us. That we are worlds apart. What do I have in common with a Cambodian boy? How can I relate to an Ecuadorian girl? But we are wrong. The United States of America is principally a transit and destination country for trafficking in persons. It is estimated that 14,500 to 17,500 people, primarily women and children (50%), are trafficked to the U.S. annually.

It is so simple as individuals to become distracted - we have school, friends, jobs, significant others, and families. I know that by the end of a semester, I struggle to see beyond the stack of looming papers and finals glaring squarely at me, and when looking around, I see that I am not alone.

I believe we have our priorities horribly skewed. We see from the broad scope narrowed to the individual - to us. A giant magnifying glass focused upon ourselves. Perhaps, as believers and as fellow human beings, we need to take the focus from ourselves and place it upon the world - place the microscope upon the enslaved, upon the abused, upon the sick, upon the destitute . . . upon the lost. To place the pressure and focus upon the perpetrators of these crimes in an outcry of protest. Perhaps it is time for us to join together and empty ourselves and pour the light throbbing in our souls upon a world clouded in the darkness of apathy and inaction . . . silence . . . the greatest weapon of mass destruction.

Perhaps we are silent because it makes us uncomfortable. Perhaps it brings reality to our doorstep, but like an unwanted salesman, we shoo it away or pretend not to be home. But . . . maybe we need to be uncomfortable. After all, when you are sitting in a chair and become bothered by an ache or itch, you shift and adjust to remove the problem. . . well, maybe we, as Christians, as humans, need to stop ignoring the pricking uncomfortability and begin to act. To move. To stop pretending, ignoring . . . to speak.

They can't speak. They can't call to you. I've never met them - these silent. But I imagine that if they were given one word to say, they would beg, "Help."


In order to be a beautiful voice for these children, there must be many voices raised. We have not been able to have a say in their beginning, but we can have a say in how their story will end.

"We are only asked to love, to offer hope to the many hopeless. We don't get to choose all the endings, but we are asked to play the rescuers. We won't solve all mysteries and our hearts will certainly break in such a vulnerable life, but it is the best way. We were made to be lovers bold in broken places, pouring ourselves out again and again until we're called Home." (TWLOHA)


There must be involvement.

Your involvement.

What will be her ending?
What will be his ending?


They're waiting for our answer . . . to be a voice for the silent.


“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves; ensure justice for those who are perishing. Yes, speak up for the poor and helpless, and see that they get justice.”
–Proverbs 31:8-9

Love, and C.S. Lewis

C.S. Lewis has some of the most poignant quotes I have ever read:

"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket--safe, dark, motionless, airless--it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from the perturbations of love is Hell."
-C.S. Lewis

I have to wonder how many of us risk becoming this - the sort that guards the heart so firmly that we forget to love. To take chances. Oh, yes, it means there will be pain. It hurts to love. But . . . how worth the pain it is to experience the joys of love.

*Walk in Love, Darlings*

Satisfaction

I came across this and utterly adored its message:

---------------

Everyone longs to give themselves completely to someone, to have a deep soul relationship with another.

But God, to the Christian says, "No, not until you are satisfied, fulfilled, and content with being loved by Me alone, with giving yourself totally and unreservedly to Me, with having an intensely personal and unique relationship with Me alone, discovering that only in Me is your satisfaction to be found, will you be capable of the perfect human relationship that I have planned for you.

You will never be united with another until you are united with Me exclusive of anyone or anything else, exclusive of any other desires and longings:I want you to stop planning, stop wishing, and allow Me to give to you the most thrilling plan existing, one that you cannot imagine.

I want you to have the best. Please, allow Me to bring it to you. You just keep watching Me, expecting the greatest things. Keep experiencing the satisfaction that... I Am. Keep listening and learning the things I tell you. You just wait. That's all. Don't be anxious. Don't worry. Don't look around at the things you think you want. You just keep looking off and away up to Me, or you will miss what I want to show you.

And then, when you are ready, I will surprise you with a LOVE far more wonderful than any you would dream of. You see, until you are ready and until the one I have for you is ready (I am working even at this very moment to have both of you ready at the same time), until you are both satisfied exclusively with Me and the life I have prepared for you, you won't be able to experience the love that exemplifies your relationship with Me, and this Perfect Love.

And dear one, I want you to have this most wonderful love. I want you to see in the flesh, a picture of your relationship with Me, and to enjoy materially and concretely the everlasting union of beauty, perfection, and love that I offer you with Myself.

Know that I love you utterly.

I AM GOD.

BELIEVE AND BE SATISFIED."

If your heart is at all heavy or burdened or sad . . . please, listen to this. This is my message to all of you. You are loved! If you are at the end of your rope, tie a knot in it, and hold on!






Jesus says, "I will never leave you nor forsake you."

It's a promise.

And . . . I'm here, too.

You are so loved! You know that Jesus . . . He's crazy about you!


**Walk in Love**

Three Things

The Prologue to Bertrand Russell’s Autobiography: Three passions, simple but overwhelmingly strong, have governed my life: the longing for love, the search for knowledge, and unbearable pity for the suffering of mankind. These passions, like great winds, have blown me hither and thither, in a wayward course, over a great ocean of anguish, reaching to the very verge of despair. I have sought love, first, because it brings ecstasy - ecstasy so great that I would often have sacrificed all the rest of life for a few hours of this joy. I have sought it, next, because it relieves loneliness--that terrible loneliness in which one shivering consciousness looks over the rim of the world into the cold unfathomable lifeless abyss. I have sought it finally, because in the union of love I have seen, in a mystic miniature, the prefiguring vision of the heaven that saints and poets have imagined. This is what I sought, and though it might seem too good for human life, this is what--at last--I have found. With equal passion I have sought knowledge. I have wished to understand the hearts of men. I have wished to know why the stars shine. And I have tried to apprehend the Pythagorean power by which number holds sway above the flux. A little of this, but not much, I have achieved. Love and knowledge, so far as they were possible, led upward toward the heavens. But always pity brought me back to earth. Echoes of cries of pain reverberate in my heart. Children in famine, victims tortured by oppressors, helpless old people a burden to their sons, and the whole world of loneliness, poverty, and pain make a mockery of what human life should be. I long to alleviate this evil, but I cannot, and I too suffer. This has been my life. I have found it worth living, and would gladly live it again if the chance were offered me.

It was by chance that I came upon such a profound insight from this renowned philosopher, and seldom have I ever related to a single citation as much as I do that of Bertrand Russell. Over the course of past weeks, I have continuously searched my heart in hopes of finding who I truly am and what my role will be within this complicated and ever-changing world; thus, with such an endeavor, many portals to hidden thoughts were opened and subjected to scrutiny and evaluation, much as a specimen beneath a microscope. However, this time I was both the specimen and the scientist – lost within a self-evaluation.

I have always sought love and affection – some outward display that would guarantee me the peace of knowing I was worthwhile. This love manifested itself not only in familial bonds, but in friendships and relationships. Along the quest to discover and attain such devotion, I sacrificed parts of myself, portions of my identity, in order to conform to the desired model of the one whose love I sought. Like in a masquerade, I moved as a marionette, morphing into various roles I had refined since high school. In the process, I forgot who I was and assumed that the role I took on at the moment was my very definition. I wanted to be loved – that type of love one sees in painted fairytales . . . the type of love that never ends and never waivers. In my mind, this love, despite disappointments and failures on my own part, would always grow and nurture my body and soul. Though I had the love of family and the devotion of friends, I still found myself eagerly awaiting more. It was as if a part of me was empty and angrily desired contentment, and so, I searched until I thought I found the type of love that would appease it. For a lengthy span of time, I believed, or so desperately wanted to believe, that the supposed love I found in the eyes of a boy was enough to satisfy my hunger. I became so lost within the illusion of romantic love that the mind convinced my heart that this was enough, but still my soul longed for more. It was in the blazing whirlwind of love’s failure that the very thing I sought so fervently for, Love, found me – broken upon the floor and pitifully mourning a heart’s shattering. It was in that time of never-ending tears that the word "agape" formed in the words of every friend and the smile of every stranger – and it was the word strewn across every page of Scripture that I never truly understood until it at long last chose to reveal itself to me. "God is Love" . . . why did I never embrace this meaning? Why did I seek love everywhere but the One that IS the very thing I yearned for above all else? I sought love within those who fail and allow love to die like a withering flower on a parched day – achingly slowly and without warning. Unfailing love, agape . . . it was always right there. I neither needed to assume a particular image or character, achieve a special rank, or appear the most beautiful to receive it . . . it was in being hideously shattered that Love found me. Isaiah 64:8 says, "Yet, O LORD, you are our Father. We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand." And Romans 12:2 commands, "Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will." It was on my knees, head bowed in a weary reverence, that His words echoed within my heart . . . I had attempted to alter every flaw to fit the mold of others. I tried so hard to become a perfect person, but for my own sake. I wanted to be good enough so that those around me would never leave and would never cease to love me. Why did it take until now to see that all I sought, all I wanted and cried for, was already there? He was right there . . . I did not need to dance before him as a pretty little puppet aching to please an audience, fearing rejection and shame. I could come as I am - tired and dirty and helpless. There is a song that communicates this very particular truth – I am nothing but dirt before the Lord, yet it is through ’broken’ dirt that flowers arise. I had never been so beautifully broken. And in those moments of divine enlightenment, I at long last felt the satisfying, merciful love of the very One that is Love . . . the very one that shapes this body of clay into a figure pleasing to Him, and not to the stage that is the world.

I imagine if one was to ask those from my high school years what word could describe me, it would be something related to matters of intelligence. Knowledge has been my mind’s desire as much as food and water are the desires of the body. Since I was a child, I was fascinated with the motions of the world – the coming and going of the day, the fluctuation of the wind, the rise and fall of the tides, and flutter of butterfly wings on a spring day. I wondered what turned the skies ablaze and what principles governed the expanse of space. As I grew, I sought to know the human mind and heart – what caused a man to hate and what caused a man to fear. Freud, Adler, Jung, Erikson . . . all consumed my thoughts with a fiery passion. The laws of nature and of science, of mathematics and grammar, of the Earth’s histories and future fate, the context and interpretations of Scripture, the symbols and figurative language of the Wisdom Books, the very mind of God . . . I want to know it all, yet so little has my mind retained and understood. The quest for knowledge is both a gift from the Lord, and a potential curse, for knowledge can blind should it not be controlled. Every factor of the human psyche is like a beast needing to be tamed in order to be used. It is a fine discipline. This thirst for knowledge has only but begun to be filled, drop by drop as in an hourglass. It is a quest that never truly ceases.

Love and knowledge – these attributes have allowed me to momentarily taste a bit of heavenly wonder and awe, to ascend beyond the span of reality and see into the spiritual realm of the worlds, and briefly fade away from the material world. Yet, as I escaped and floated away within my mind, a faint cry always caught my attention. It began as a whimper, and as I would turn toward it, the whimpers accumulated into a mass of wailings and sobbing moans, and my eyes once so focused upon the fiery skies would look upon the earth and perceive the sorrows of the world. What words can describe the frailty and wretched nature of mankind? Their faces have haunted my soul for so long – the children barely clothed in flesh, the men baring guns and sickeningly thirsty grins, the babies lost within famine, the women clinging to the bodies of murdered children, the elderly covered in disease and parasites, the youth forced into slavery, the young girls whose screams of rape are silenced by monetary gags . . . As I watch their faces flash before my eyes in a morbid slideshow, I hear a scream rise in a shrill tone of anguish. I search for it, begging it to cease, but it is only upon passing a mirror that I realized that it is I who is making such a horrid cry. And I fall upon the floor and allow the sobs the tear through my body, soaking the ground in tears, as I claw at it in hope of gaining relief. Yes . . . pity has always brought me back down. Oh . . . how I want to relieve their pain. And I beg the Lord again and again . . . please, I will take it for them all. Give it to me – My God, I can take it. I close my eyes each night and see their faces. I hear their moaning. The whole Earth is shuddering in aguish and helpless sorrow. I walk down the street and see the homeless man, weary and dirty, beside the road. None see him. They turn away – afraid, so afraid to touch and feel. But his eyes pierce into my heart, and I hear his cry for help and for hope. Invisible . . . but not to me. I see them and their faces never leave me. I carry them and they become a part of me, and with each face my soul cracks until I buckle in despair. I long to alleviate the poverty, disease, hate, loneliness, and vileness that plagues the Earth in a pestilence not even the most genius of authors, painters, or directors could imagine, but . . . I cannot. And, I too suffer. Their lives fall to dust within my hands, and it is as if I am left lonely upon a floor of rising sand – like an hourglass that never fills. But, despite it all, I still believe in the existence of good amidst evil. It is hopeless, they tell me. It is inevitable, they tell me. It is deserved, they tell me. You are one person, they tell me. Why, they question of me.

Well . . . because I’m a dreamer. I see the world not only as it is, but as it could very well be. After all, darkness can only last until the morning . . .

This has been my life. I have found it worth living . . .

Beauty for Ashes

For weeks I have been waiting to write; day after day my fingers have yearned to express the thoughts drifting loosely within my soul. Many a time I would sit with the dutiful intention of releasing these emotions and gifting them with literary life, but from the moment of anticipated action, the words would cease to form, dissipating like smoke in the wind. The fingers would curl in contemplation, and the emotions would swallow the thoughts to the point clear distinctions were an impossibility to decipher. Emotions are meant to be painted with colors and photographs, for they transcend the limited dictionary of verbosity. It was an odd contrast to be afflicted by – being possessed by the forceful desire to write, but lacking the freedom to quench the thirst.

The words flowed first in short tidbits of personal reflection regarding the passage of a year’s time. I had never before found myself longing for the year to end and for the dawn to break on a freshly birthed year. I recalled the last year of life and was profoundly amazed at all that can occur within a mere 365 days. Yet, as I wrote, I found that each sentence was detached and was no more than a historical timeline of the last year of my life interlaced with the occasional emotional commentary. For days I glared at the typed words as if willing them to form into the shape I longed to mold. Release and inspiration came days later as a single thought trickled through my mind concerning those around me who were already beginning the new year with heartache. On a night of spiritual hunger, I searched through sermon podcasts from Matt Brown. One and only one caught my eye, and upon listening to it in its entirety, all of the words left unspoken accumulated beneath the banner of a common theme. What has the last year of life been dominated by?

Two things. Two complex, contradictory, and yet dependent words. 

The first is pain.

The second, healing.

A year to this day leaves me in utter shock at all that can occur within a year. It began with an ending. The ending of an emotionally abusive relationship. It was then followed by months of personal recovery, with much forgiveness, only to descend into a second emotionally damaging relationship that ended within days of my Grandfather’s passing. I lost my Grandpa physically. I am currently losing my other only known Grandpa mentally as he slowly slips away from the man I have known. Dementia is a cruel disease. My Grandmother has assumed a personality contrary to that I have ever seen and is but a shell of the woman I have known for twenty years. Wine is her comforter and anger, her relief. My father has traded grief for anger and my mother mourns in secret. In so many ways, a year has tested the endurance of my heart

Pain is an intriguing concept, and even more enthralling is the notion of healing. Much like darkness and light, these two are destined to be held together in the palm of one hand. They are bound together, yet I find it both disheartening and alarming at how few understand both the Biblical perspective of pain and how even fewer know of the Biblical process of healing. 

The problem of pain rests in our general perspective of it. We, quite frankly, do not like it. We live within a society that stubbornly instructs us to seek pleasure and avoid pain at every cost. Pain, suffering, and sorrow are terms with negative connotations and each is accompanied by the notion of fear and the impulsive reaction of flight. Yet, Scripture offers an alternative perspective of pain. 

Ecclesiastes 1:18 states, “For with much wisdom comes much sorrow; the more knowledge, the more grief.”

Ecclesiastes 7: 2-4 says, “It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart. The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of fools is in the house of pleasure.”

The first understanding that must be noted is that there is a purpose to the pain. Pain is something mandated by Jesus to all of His followers. It is said that our suffering produces perseverance, perseverance produces character, and character produces hope. This hope is promised to never disappoint. 

Pain is a part of life. We all experience pain, and at some point, we will all suffer great quantities of it. It is in our approach to pain that the conflict arises. Just as Christ promises suffering, He also promises healing. One of the greatest answers one in pain gives to one asking about his or her pain is the remark that, “That’s life. People hurt.” However, what they fail to do is finish the complete thought. The sentence should read: “That’s life. People hurt, and then they heal.” Often times, we stop at the hurt in a morbid stalemate and refuse to make the next move that opens the path to healing grace. 

Exodus 15: 26 says to Israel, “ . . . for I am the Lord who heals you.”

When in the eye of the storm, it is easy to scoff at this verse. Healing? Really? I am certain many can relate to this feeling. If He was a God of healing, then surely so many people would not be hurting. Right? I mean, it only makes sense.

Why is there such hurting, even from wrongs and mistakes made weeks, months, and even years before? Why do the effects still linger as an endless sting to the soul?

The answer is simple – healing occurs in the form of a process. And, this process extends beyond prayer. It takes more then prayer to fully heal in the manner God instructs. The problem is that we live within a society that prefers to neglect the issue. We live within a society that believes in bottling up emotions. We say “suck it up” and “tough it out.” Be men. Buck up. 

And we wonder why so many hurt . . . they store it away like a secret treasure no one else can find. They harbor it in the back of their minds and the corners of their heart. Instead of releasing the pain, we as a society greedily clasp onto it and tuck it away for safe keeping.
We must follow the process. We must take it step by step.

The first step toward Biblical healing is revealing our hurt to other Christians. 

We live in a country that prides itself on being tough, proud, and independent. To show vulnerability is to show weakness. We take the hurt and we keep it to ourselves, thinking that this in some way makes us stronger. Or, we take the martyr approach – “I don’t want to burden you with my problems.” Such sacrifice, right? 

. . . that is not what Scripture teaches. David is a fine example of describing the greater pain that arises when we keep silent about a wounded heart.

Psalm 39: 2 “But when I was silent and still, not even saying anything good, my anguish increased.”

Psalm 32: 3 “When I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long.”

One of the phrases I always, always, hear when I know someone is hurting and question him or her about that hurt is the calloused response of, “That’s reality,” or, “Others have had it worse.” The second is very well true, but at the moment, we are not dealing with others. Just you. They shrug it off like it is any ordinary news. Pain is pain. However, as I see it, avoiding the pain, not talking about it, and pretending like it is not there, or even denying it altogether, is completely NOT dealing with reality. That pain IS reality and it is there to be faced head on, face first, and not swept beneath a rug. I used to be quite guilty of that phrase. I believed it was simply accepting reality, but in doing this, I merely ran away from it while convincing myself that I had dealt with it. We cannot allow ourselves to be hurt or angered while letting no one know. The silence allows the pain to fester like an open sore. Untreated and ignored, it will become infected and will spread throughout the body. Hidden pain is a sore upon the soul.

One of the greatest flaws of our society is the extent we go to avoid this pain. We are a society of pill-poppers and substance abusers. We have a cure for everything! Headache? Take a pill! Stressed? Smoke a cigarette! Feeling sad? Here’s some drugs! Pills, pills, pills, pills . . . We have become a people of dependency. We take the medication to dull away the pain. We consume the drugs to mentally run away and hide. “Prozac Nation.” Did you know that in cleaning our water and recycling the waste water that we can completely rid the water of the bacteria from the waste, but that we have not found a way to rid the water of the drugs that people are consuming? Think about that upon drinking your next glass of water. It is so little wonder how few people truly heal when we see just how far they go to never even experience the pain. I have watched women drown their sorrows in alcohol until they are in such a stupor that they do not even remember who they are, let alone who anyone else is. I have seen friends so strung up on drugs in a vain attempt to avoid family and financial problems that they sacrifice their very own identity in an addiction. I have seen people not able to handle a basic situation without clambering about for the source of nicotine. We are a people of dependence. A people of addiction. We are a people that would rather turn to a doctor to receive drugs to help us deal with a supposed reality than God. Drugs (both legal and illegal), cigarettes, drinking . . . when we become dependent upon these things, addicted to them, and ultimately lost within their false promise of peace, we replace the spot in our lives where God should be with them. When we turn to them to help us “deal” with pain, stress, fear, or anger, we turn our backs to God and ultimately tell Him, “This works better than You, God. I choose giving my pain to this rather than to You.” 

We don’t need a doctor to deal with hurt. We need God.

James 5: 16 “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.”

When we share out hurt, something amazing and unique happens. Confessing sins brings healing. What has this to do with pain, one may ask? Everything. Unconfessed hurt and anger IS a sin. It is a sin against the self. When we withhold the pain and anger, we sin. When we confess it in fellowship, that is when the beauty of healing first begins. Now, we don’t need to plaster it onto a billboard or tell a great many people. Even a single person or two or three is a magnificent start. Healing only begins when it is shared. Don’t try to be a martyr . . . it is a command to share your hurt. A shared burden is the meaning of fellowship. 

The second step is to reshape the way in which we perceive our past experiences. 

This is perhaps the part I have struggled with the most. It can be easy to tell other believers about your pain. For me, I found the ears of close friends to always be open to my broken words and teary explanations. However, it was at step one that I ceased my own healing process. I figured that I had prayed and I had sought the support of friends. Surely that was enough to heal!

I was quite wrong. For nearly a year I believed that I had healed from the wounds of mental, verbal, and spiritual abuse. Even when it occurred a second time and just as quickly ended, I believed that I had gone through the proper steps to pick up the pieces. I suppose a fitting analogy is glass and glue. 

Take a vase and drop it on the ground. You will surely have big pieces and little pieces. Healing without following the Biblical steps is like attempting to put the bowl back together with tape. Only following the first or second steps is like using a glue stick. Those pieces may stick for a little while, but they will slip and fall apart. 

My awakening to the fact I had done so little healing came full force in the wake of a new relationship. I would never admit to fearing relationships, for on the outside, I never did. However, it was not until I suddenly realized my heart’s attachment to this individual that the fear consumed me. For two years, I had known nothing but mental and emotional abuse. Those two relationships were the only things I had to base any relationship off of, so when the man I began a relationship with failed to resemble anything like the past, I panicked. I was in unfamiliar territory. I did not know what it was like to be truly cared for, and the heart I had taped and glue-sticked together loosened their strains and came crashing to the ground. The first sign was a relapse. Somehow, the razor found my skin and a behavior I had believed to conquer pushed back with the force of Goliath. But, the crumbling did not stop there. I lashed out in anger and in fear like a cornered animal. I was petrified. A single disagreement in views brought forth the extent of the pain I was still in, the anger I still felt, and the hurt I had still failed to give away. 

Realization dawned in the same manner one looks in the mirror. I saw myself from the outside in; I was becoming like my past. I had allowed the hurt and fear to fester away within me, for I had never perceived my past with anything but the view of a victim. It was in the belief that I had failed this new relationship that I decided that something had to change. I was tired of looking in the mirror and wondering who the girl I saw was and why I missed something about her. I had confessed my hurt to dear friends, but I had not been truly honest with it all . . . I had not confessed the manner in which I had also failed my past relationships, and I had lied to myself that they still affected me.

It was in a long night of talking with a dear friend that my perception of my past began to shift. It happened in a process – sadness, anger, and then, release. A quite remarkable release. This release brought the transformation of thought, a bit of courage, and a lot of determination.

Romans 12: 2 “Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

Romans 8:28 “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”

God does not cause the evil in our lives. That must first be understood. He does, however, allow it to occur. But, the beauty is in the ending. 

Have you ever watched someone paint a picture? It begins looking obtuse and abstract, but it gives you an idea of what it will look like in the end. As the painter applies colors and begins to give it shape, it begins to distort into something indistinguishable. I have found myself watching a painter paint and in the middle of his creation I have actually found it to look not only ugly, but nothing like it was suppose to! However, if we continue to watch, to observe the painter add some green here, some blue here, and maybe a bit of purple there . . . it begins to take shape once more. Add a few more brush strokes, and maybe even scrape away a few mistakes, and when the painter places down his paintbrush and steps away . . . there is a masterpiece. This is what God does. There will be ugly periods and periods of utter chaos and confusion, but in the end, when He finally puts down that paintbrush, we will still be a beautiful and lovely masterpiece, because we have a God who takes everything and uses it for good. 

The reason this is step two is because of this – how many perspectives of our past do we receive if we look at it by ourselves? One. One and only one.

However, if we first seek the fellowship of others and allow them to step into our past, we will be better able to see it in a new light. It took a dear, dear friend to point out to me the manner in which I had been changed by my past, for both the better and the not so good. It was she who pointed out aspects I had never even considered or fathomed. Another reason it is step two is to prevent denial. There are many people who have experienced a great deal of pain, but instead of admitting to it, they deny it and sugarcoat it as a way of avoiding confronting it. Step one assures that the pain be acknowledged. Step two assures that it is then that it becomes transformed. Like a doctor, we need a second opinion in our healing process. A family member, a close friend, a pastor, a boyfriend or girlfriend . . . just someone you can trust. This is the only way we can reshape the perception of our pasts so that we may see the beauty amongst the ashes. 

The third step in the healing process is the hardest. It takes the most energy and the most selflessness. Step Three: we must release those who have hurt us.

This step can be seen as the battle between getting well and getting even.

I have had an interesting relationship with this step. On one hand, I have looked at the three key people who have hurt me the most in my life and I have, for long periods of time, believed to have forgiven them. I have uttered the words and have even prayed for them and sincerely wished them well. However, during moments when the hurt arose from the smoke, I have found myself cursing them and wishing against all hope to have never laid eyes upon them. I have sought to release those who have hurt me, but it was not until October of 2008 that I really took the steps to make it a permanent release as opposed to a conditional and convenient release. 

We must, we MUST, if we are to heal, release the emotional burden of judgment. 
We are taught from childhood that only God can judge. Do you know why? Because, God is the only Being that can judge without destroying His own character. God will judge the quick and the dead. We cannot judge a person without in some way compromising our character. Judging does not bring healing. 

Romans 12: 17-21 says “Do not repay anyone evil for evil. Be careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody. If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone. Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord. On the contrary: "If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.”

1 Peter 2:23 says, “When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly.”
Here is a central thought: Hurt people, hurt people.

When we are hurting, we distance ourselves emotionally. We strike out preemptively. We act like frightened creatures in a corner, and we disguise this persona by stating, “Well, I just don’t trust people.” Hurt people, hurt people.

We don’t do it intentionally. Half of the time, we don’t even realize that we are hurting anyone in our own attempt at not being hurt. I know that stored hurt and pain has caused me to lash out at others in a manner I have never done before, and it is always those I love most who bare the brunt of my verbal assaults. I look at the relationship I am in now, and I have realized that in my attempt to be guarded, following my assertion that I “just don’t trust easily,” I have caused harm and frustration. The unusual thing that I have realized is that the person who is feared is the one who feels like a victim. Hurt people, hurt people.

Now, let’s just clear it up by saying everyone is going to hurt some people and not all of it is from some deep seeded hurt. People hurt people as well. But, those who are hurting are even more prone to hurt. Take a family dog. The dog could have been as docile and gentle as can be, but when a dog becomes ill or greatly injured, one will see the dog become defensive. I have had pets who never once even growled at me attempt to bite me when they are ill or hurt. 
Hurt people, hurt people. The good news is that Jesus is the Humble Healer. But, while He says His burden is easy and His yoke is light, He also says that He takes only what He is given. We have to let go. And letting go means letting go of the condemnation, the anger, and the sense of judgment. Forgiveness is the third step.

Step four is a bit easier. Refocusing our thoughts on the future that we have in Christ. 
Job is a wonderful example of this. Here is a man who lost everything – his home, his family, and even his animals. Not much was spared. The level of his hurt and anguish can only be fathomed. Yet, these words were written:

Job 11: 13-16 “Yet if you devote your heart to him and stretch out your hands to him, if you put away the sin that is in your hand and allow no evil to dwell in your tent, then you will lift up your face without shame; you will stand firm and without fear. You will surely forget your trouble, recalling it only as waters gone by.”

God never said that the road we travel would be easy, only that we will not go it alone. 
Proverbs 4:25 says, “Let your eyes look straight ahead, fix your gaze directly before you.”
Philippians 4:8 says, “Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”

It is like running a race. Your feet are at the starting line. You can feel the heat of the people around you. You wait for that starting gun to blast. Your legs clench and you flex your fist in anticipation. When that gun sounds, your eyes are fixed ahead of you – right at your goal – that finish line. 

Like in a race, you don’t waste time looking around you. You lock eyes with the prize and goal and you thrust your entire self into reaching it. We can’t live in the past. We can’t attempt to postpone or delay our future by dwelling in memories of days long gone. We can’t stand in an hourglass and attempt to stop the sand from dropping just because we are not ready. We sleep and we wake, and the world continues on, with or without us. It is up to us to let go of the past, to learn, to grow, and to keep running. The pain that happens in our past is like tripping in that race. We may only do a small stumble, or our knees may scrape the ground . . . but, we have to rise again and keep running. We won’t get anywhere if we keep looking back or dwelling upon it. 

The goal is Christ. He is the ultimate finish line. 

Jeremiah 29:11 says, “For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

This is God’s plan. His ultimate plan for our lives.

Step five is the culmination of our healing – a sort of graduation present. The last step of healing is to reach out to others.

There is a unique sort of healing that occurs when you help another person. I have found that when I realize that it is room my past pain that I can not only relate to others, but also help others heal, I heal even more. I have often wondered, “Why did this happen to me, Lord?” But, when I am looking in the eyes of a friend who is hurting from the same thing, it all suddenly makes sense. We are a part of a bigger picture. Our lives will affect and influence others. 
Sometimes the greatest joy is achieved not by doing something for the self, but by doing something for others. Life is a two-way street this way. The delight you see in another's face upon going out of your way to help will bring joy to your own soul. We, by nature, are social beings. We enter this world as a result of another's actions and we thrive within it through a cohesive partnership with our fellow man. Thus, it should be no shocking surprise that much of our pleasure occurs within the context of relationships. This should cause us to realize that our every action has a universal dimension and can impact others. We control this power. We hold the reigns and choice to positively influence the happiness of others with ethical traits of love, patience, peace, forgiveness, sincerity, self-control, and mercy. Happiness, while being derived from within, is influenced by our interaction and response to outward stimuli; therefore, happiness results from what we think and feel in our experiences with others and view of ourselves.

Life is as beautiful as it is tragic, and it is up to you to not only learn, mature, and grow from past heartaches, pains, and hardships, but to instruct others so that they may learn from your own lesser moments. In many ways, your misfortune can also be your ministry. Sorrowfully, many people would rather be assured of misery than chance being happy. I, myself, have known many such people who prefer delighting in admissions of depression than in the potential for contentment.

You must learn to take the good with the bad, for when you learn from the upsetting parts of life you will better appreciate the good when placed in comparison to them. Some see life through rose-colored glasses and others refuse to acknowledge the blessings – there must be a happy medium. Accept life for what it is – a learning experience – a series of trial and error. There will be success and there will be failure, and we must learn to value both, for I have found that it is in our darkest of moments, our times of ultimate failure, that we are granted the opportunity to scrutinize ourselves and all of our weaknesses so that we may realize our strengths. 

The process is simple. We hurt, we heal, and then we help others.

2 Corinthians 1:4 “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. For just as the sufferings of Christ flow over into our lives, so also through Christ our comfort overflows. If we are distressed, it is for your comfort and salvation; if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which produces in you patient endurance of the same sufferings we suffer. And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.”