Thoughts on faith reconstructed, being alcohol-free, dealing with disability,and living transparently (and somehow keeping a sense of humor)
Hello, dear readers.
Many of you know that I recently filmed a segment for the 700 Club featuring my recovery testimony. Although it will not air on the show until Monday, Feb. 29, I have attached the snippet below.
Praying that God uses my story to help someone suffering from addiction.
Take heart! There is HOPE!
By: Jana Greene
This past weekend, I instructed a workshop about “Surrender” for a large group of women. In it, I shared the absolute necessity of LETTING GO of our anxieties.
And, in the interest of honesty, I also shared my own propensity of surrendering my worries to Jesus, only to revisit them on occasion – as if I have some twisted kind of weekend custody of them or something.
“Thanks for handling the financial worries I surrendered to you, God. Now, if you don’t mind, I believe it’s my right to have visitation with it. Just to check up, you know.”
Or…
“I know I surrendered by kids to you, God. But they seem to be making worse choices than even BEFORE I fully trusted them to your care, so maybe if I revisit the situation, I can give you some pointers on fixing them. Nobody knows them like their mother….”
At which point, God usually reminds me that, no….actually nobody knows them like their Father.
I keep forgetting that. even though it’s right there in 1 Peter 5:7: “So be content with who you are, and don’t put on airs. God’s strong hand is on you; he’ll promote you at the right time. Live carefree before God; he is most careful with you.” (MSG)
At the conclusion of last weekend’s workshop workshop, I invited the ladies to visit the Surrender Board on a table in the back of the room. After channeling my Amateur Craft Maven earlier in the week in preparation for the ceremony, I’d covered a large Styrofoam board with some glittery scrap booking paper, and made over a hundred little white flags from toothpicks and white masking tape. I provided metallic paint pens at the table for the ladies to emboss the flags with their most difficult struggles before raising their own white flags in surrender on the board.
To get it started, I’d pre-added about seven of the issues nearest and dearest to my heart. The names of my children. My weight struggles. Anxiety. Fear.
One by one, the women filed to the table to the accompaniment of soothing worship music. Tearfully, they turned their worries into a Styrofoam battlefield of surrender, letting go of their issues and giving them to God.
After the workshop, I took the Surrender Board home with me, and vowed to pray for the surrenderees each day this week.
But last night, I had a dream.I was approaching the board in a room where it sat on a fancy table (think “Arc of the Covenant” fancy) Jesus stood between me and all of the white flag surrenderables, which I had come to pray over.He was lovingly guarding them.
“Excuse me, Lord,” I think I said. (Very politely, it was Jesus, after all.) “I need to pray for these items left here by my sisters.”
“But they gave them to me,” He countered.
Not wanting to argue with The Great I Am, I peered past his shoulder to take a look-see at all of the little white flags. The metallic paint that marked each struggle was so aglow in the light of Christ that I couldn’t make out the words.
“Yes, but you see,” I explained. “I told myself I would pray over each one.”
“Yes, but you also told them that they could trust these things to me.”
As I peer over the shoulder of the Living God again (I can be really stubborn sometimes) I can see that each little white flag has been folded and stamped crimson with an old-fashioned molten wax-type seal. Upon closer inspection, I could see that the insignia was the stamp of a Cross. And the crimson wax? It was the blood of Jesus.
Whatever was written beneath was inconsequential. The same seal covered each one.
All at once, I faded from the dream and experienced a kind of had an epiphany. When I was fully awake, I logged on the very modern research tool of the interwebs to find out more about the ancient art of seals:
A seal, in biblical times as today, is used to guarantee security or indicate ownership. Ancient seals were often made of wax, embedded with the personalized imprint of their guarantor.
“….Third, the seal of the Holy Spirit helps protect against tampering or attack. Romans 8:13 declares, “For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live.” (www.BibleStudyTools.com)
Jesus wasn’t upset with me that I wanted to have visitation with my struggles and those of my sisters, but He DID want me to make good on my promise to surrender them to HIM and leave them there.
And that INCLUDED my own items of surrender.
No need to revisit them anymore. It’s sealed by the blood. You cannot even tell what it used to be. Even the little white flags of surrendering my children and their lives. (Nobody knows them like their Heavenly Father.)
Each little white flag erected by the wonderful women who so bravely surrendered it? Precious to Him beyond all imagining.
Leave it there at the altar. He has sealed it with his blood.
Signed, sealed, surrendered. Personally imprinted by their Guarantor.
LIVE CAREFREE IN GOD – HE IS MOST CAREFUL WITH YOU.
Surrender is a beautiful thing.
By: Jana Greene
Little girls….they are so full of themselves!
I never really got to know my father. He was disinterested in me when I was born. As a very small girl, I remember jumping and dancing and shouting for him, wanting him to pick me up.
Look at me!
I can still see him now, coolly smoking a cigarette looking through me. How do I get my Daddy’s attention? Little girls crave that attention. They feel deficient if they cannot obtain it.
Then, I had a step-father. When he came into my life I was five years old. I was both jealous of his attention for my mother and hopeful that he might show some for me. I became his adopted child, losing my identity as the daughter of one disinterested. But that didn’t really make me a beloved daughter. There are worse things than parental indifference, I would find…
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By: Jana Greene
No matter what circumstance you are facing today, God says push through. No, you cannot do it on your own strength (pushing through is one of the most exhausting actions known to all mankind!) but He will lend you the strength to keep pushing. That circumstance? It is temporal. As you are His, and you are eternal.
That opportunity that you’ve been praying for that has come and now scares the daylights out of you? God says reach for it. He orchestrated the universe to offer it to you. You are His, and it will work to your good as His child called according to his purpose. Either it will be a success that brings you gain, or it will be a success that brings new people into your sphere of influence that you wouldn’t have known any other way – people who…
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Why I’m a hand-raiser, tongue-talker, church-dancing Christian.
By: Jana Greene
When I was a young mother and my children very small, I carried them on my right hip. This went on long after they were able to walk by themselves, and so often that now -all these many years later – that hip has a tendency to jut out a bit when I am standing still. The youngest child in particular, I carried for a long time.
“Hold me up?” she would say in a tiny rasp, her small arms stretched upward. In times of particular urgency, she would stand tiptoe for extra height and open and close her tiny hands rapidly, like the motions to the nursery rhyme about all the little stars, twinkling. Of course I would pick her up…what else is a mother to do? Her gesture acknowledged that she was small…that she wanted a better view of her world.
Fast forward a dozen…
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Emmie Greene
For the last post in this series of “Seven Little Action Words,” I have resurrected this piece about my dog, Emmie. I simply cannot think of anyone who embraced life (and trust, for that matter) with such unconditional zeal. She is in Heaven now (yep, I am 100% sure that animals go to Heaven when they pass on) but she has left this world with the legacy of her “rally-ability.” She was a trooper, and really…so am I. I pray this peek into her spirit blesses you today and helps you channel YOUR inner Golden Retriever.
By: Jana Greene
Living.
I took Emmie the Elderly Golden Retriever to the vet this morning. It’s only for a nail-trim, I told her when she balked a bit about getting into the back-seat. It was cold outside, and her old bones don’t like the cold. Finally she did her best to…
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By: Jana Greene
Once upon a time, there was a good and perfect King whose agenda for the whole land was Love.
He provided everything his subjects needed – in this realm and The Eternal one – but one subject became jealous of the King and wanted to rule in his stead. Being the good and perfect King that He was, Love banished the hateful subject -who was one of the beings considered a friend of The King Himself – from the Kingdom. He became a defector with his greedy endeavor to be equal with his Creator.
Furious at being banished, The Defector appealed to the less-than-royal castle walkers to leave the King’s dominion. He was very persuasive, and took a third of their masses with him. Because The King was Love Incarnate, The King mourned their loss. But his mourning was supplanted by a great concern for the subjects of his kingdom and their heirs. For the The Defector and his minions – subject to eternal separation from Love – vowed to use whatever evil means necessary to recruit members. Nothing was off limits.
Suffering and death. But also temptation and slick false-life advertising to sell it.
One of the biggest weapons used against the kingdom subjects was the very freedom The King had invoked a the First Testing. Essentially, it sounded something like this (and like exactly the same message he is spinning in this generation):
Don’t you think YOU should be King? Why does King Love get, well … all the love. You are ruler of your own life! You can have all the power. The King is out to ruin your fun and your lives. He sits up there on His throne, having no idea of your struggles. And that’s IF He exists…..Have you ever even SEEN Him in person? I didn’t think so. Maybe He doesn’t even exist. Maybe Love cannot save the world.
And the subjects were deceived, because a tiny seed in their hearts was watered by the slick words that appealed to Self over King. And confusion took root and has become a plague upon the earth ever since. Many subjects decided to follow the ruler of Self and, in turn, rejected The King’s perfect will.
Many declared they were subjects of no land at all, and by doing so, still made a choice to defect the Kingdom. There was no dual citizenship. Perfect Love casts out all fear, and fear was at the root of autonomy of the Subjects of No Land.”
There seemed no end to the weaponry that The Defector had at his disposal. Yes, good old sin bugaboos ran amok, But often times the destruction came in other slippery forms: Shame, Defeat, Distraction, Depression, Addiction, and a general elevation to Self while – at the same time – beating it down by diminishing it’s value.
It seemed like The Defector had the deck stacked in his favor, as all of the subjects had one thing in common, bestowed by the King – Choice. The Power to accept The King of Love, ruler of the Kingdom and keep the laws enacted by him in love for their own good, or to defect themselves to a more self-serving path.
Oh, the humanity – literally!
Could no one save The Kingdom from the author of confusion?
Will no one step in to save the subjects created to serve The King and those He loves?
And then The Magic happened. The King Himself would become a subject. He himself – through His divine heir – would become man and King, and show up in person. He would be Redeemer. He would know the anxiety and hardship of the masses, just like any other subject. But He would come to show them that The King is Love.
A nobler knight or king, the world had never known. Instead of cavorting with elite and rule-keeping, The Redeemer loved on the castoffs, touched the un-touchables. The peasants. He lived His life in a manner befitting The King in all ways. Whether teaching in the temples or on the street, all subjects were invited to become members of The King’s fold. And His love was the invitation to citizenship.
Healing. Unselfishness. Unconditional Love.
The Redeemer walked the realm for 33 years, a short span of time in history, but changed absolutely everything.
No longer could the subjects resent The King for not have walked among them as a common subject. The Redeemer showed the way that any subject could become a bona-fide royal. He did so without serving Self or following any of the rules of the conniving Defector.
He would finally be crowned a King with a headpiece of thorns in a mockery of ascension to the Kingdom Throne. The Defector had a heyday. He considered a major win for his ruling. In truth, it was the beginning of His ultimate end.
Those who followed the defectors and beat him to a bloody death did not know they were in fact cementing the admission of Whomsoever into an Eternal Kingdom. The one who defected from The Eternal for seeking equality with The King made it possible for all of us to be equal heirs in all The King’s riches, in essence. Ironic, and beautiful paradox, that one.
The names of all the subjects – those who serve The King and those who serve The Defector – were on His lips, pleading with Love to administer grace and mercy. The subjects who accepted The Redeemer received permanent citizenship in the Eternal Kingdom.
The King ALWAYS uses what the enemy plans for evil to the GOOD of those who love Him.
The Magic – known as Holy Spirit – he left with the subjects, so that His power would be forever close at hand. That spirit of all that is lovely, The Magic lives on to this very generation.
The Defector knew the Day of the Redeemer had been coming, and he was prepared. Further making a mockery of Love, The Defector upped his war game, and with each new generation of subjects, became better and better at deceiving them.
Those satisfied to serve Self we easy to take down and make slaves to The Defector and his flunkies. With the ultimate knowledge that he is doomed to failure, he is quite literally hell-bent on taking as many subjects with him in eternal alienation from Love.
Even some of the Eternal Kingdom citizens sometimes forgot they are citizens of a Higher Order through the work of The Redeemer, the spoils of a war already won on the cross. They struggled mightily, far more than people with an eternal birthright should. Tasked with spreading the message of unearned love to the whole world, they became weary.
The Defector must never allow subjects of The King to rest. They are dangerous on the battlefield, a liability to the Evil One’s schemes to overthrow The King. He was always on the prowl, looking for chinks in the armor that The Magic covered them in. He perfected the tips of his arrows and narrowed his aim, upping the ante with each attack.
It is for this reason the Redeemed subjects are not spared hardship and even occasional agony.
It’s not the end of the story. The King gets the last word. Love always wins, you know.
Because the Bible isn’t a fairy tale at all.
The King of Love exists. We call him God, and He isn’t the stuff of fables. The Redeemer who is both God and Man? He is Jesus. And there is, in fact, a Defector called Satan, and his demonic hosts of demons who defected the angelic realms. I know it sounds mythical, until you consider the state of the war, pestilence, and destruction both large-scale and in our personal lives. Look around the world we inhabit, so infused with suffering and tribulation. There should be no doubt we have a living enemy. And – here’s the twist in the story – it’s not us.
Yes, evil seems to be running the trial of the world as it hurtles toward implosion, as The Defector makes his closing arguments against us. Darkness is his counsel.
But our Counsel is Truth.
Our Judge? Love.
Your enemy doesn’t get to make it to your sentencing at the end of your life without allowing you to testify on your own behalf. And that testimony is the one and true light that vanquishes even the blackest darkness.
Our testimony is simply JESUS.
If you know The Redeemer, this tale may seem a filtered-down, fable-esque take on the Gospel. But a lot of people haven’t heard it in a relate-able way, and I’m hoping this little blog post helps one person see hope with new eyes.
The story has a happy ending.
If you don’t know The Redeemer, know that there is a good and perfect King whose agenda for the whole life is Love. He came in human form to understand the anxiety and hardship of the masses, and to offer reprieve and eternal life.
His Kingdom – His LOVE – is available to you. Not Once upon a time, but today.
God bless us subjects, every one.
SCRIPTURAL REFERENCES:
“And don’t tell me that I have no authority to write like this. I’m perfectly free to do this—isn’t that obvious? Haven’t I been given a job to do? Wasn’t I commissioned to this work in a face-to-face meeting with Jesus, our Master? Aren’t you yourselves proof of the good work that I’ve done for the Master? Even if no one else admits the authority of my commission, you can’t deny it. Why, my work with you is living proof of my authority!” – 1 Corinthians 9:1-2 (MSG)
It is written: “In the beginning God (prepared, formed, fashioned, and) created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and an empty waste, and darkness was upon the face of the very great deep. The Spirit of God was moving (hovering, brooding) over the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light; and there was light. …” – Genesis 1 (AMPC)
“When Lucifer was cast out of Heaven, one third of all the angels were cast out with him.” – Revelations 12:14-9
“Bilious and bloated, they gas,
“God is gone.”
Their words are poison gas,
fouling the air; they poison
Rivers and skies;
thistles are their cash crop.
God sticks his head out of heaven.
He looks around.
He’s looking for someone not stupid—
one man, even, God-expectant,
just one God-ready woman.
He comes up empty. A string
of zeros. Useless, unshepherded
Sheep, taking turns pretending
to be Shepherd.
The ninety and nine
follow their fellow.” – Psalm 14:1-4
This history-changing gift changed the world forever. “This how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn’t go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again. Anyone who trusts in him is acquitted; anyone who refuses to trust him has long since been under the death sentence without knowing it. And why? Because of that person’s failure to believe in the one-of-a-kind Son of God when introduced to him.” – John 3:16-18 (MSG)
Choosing YOU: “How blessed is God! And what a blessing he is! He’s the Father of our Master, Jesus Christ, and takes us to the high places of blessing in him. Long before he laid down earth’s foundations, he had us in mind, had settled on us as the focus of his love, to be made whole and holy by his love. Long, long ago he decided to adopt us into his family through Jesus Christ. (What pleasure he took in planning this!) He wanted us to enter into the celebration of his lavish gift-giving by the hand of his beloved Son.” – Ephesians 4:1 (MSG)
“How? you ask. In Christ. God put the wrong on him who never did anything wrong, so we could be put right with God.” 1 Corinthians 5:21 (MSG)
As his killers laugh and mock him as He is dying, throwing dice to see who would keep His robes as a macabre souvenir, He pleaded with The King: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.” – Luke 23:24 (ENT)
The Redeemer said it Himself: “I’m telling you these things while I’m still living with you. The Friend, the Holy Spirit whom the Father will send at my request, will make everything plain to you. He will remind you of all the things I have told you. I’m leaving you well and whole. That’s my parting gift to you. Peace. I don’t leave you the way you’re used to being left—feeling abandoned, bereft. So don’t be upset. Don’t be distraught.” – John 14:26-27 (MSG)
To which The King decreed “You see what this means—all these pioneers who blazed the way, all these veterans cheering us on? It means we’d better get on with it. Strip down, start running—and never quit! No extra spiritual fat, no parasitic sins. Keep your eyes on Jesus, who both began and finished this race we’re in. Study how he did it. Because he never lost sight of where he was headed—that exhilarating finish in and with God—he could put up with anything along the way: Cross, shame, whatever. And now he’s there, in the place of honor, right alongside God. When you find yourselves flagging in your faith, go over that story again, item by item, that long litany of hostility he plowed through. That will shoot adrenaline into your souls!” – Hebrew 12:1 (MSG)
For The King issued this proclamation: “Keep a cool head. Stay alert. The Devil is poised to pounce, and would like nothing better than to catch you napping. Keep your guard up. You’re not the only ones plunged into these hard times. It’s the same with Christians all over the world. So keep a firm grip on the faith. The suffering won’t last forever. It won’t be long before this generous God who has great plans for us in Christ—eternal and glorious plans they are!—will have you put together and on your feet for good. He gets the last word; yes, he does.” – 1 Peter 5:8
As fellow subject and apostle summed it up: “You yourselves are a case study of what he does. At one time you all had your backs turned to God, thinking rebellious thoughts of him, giving him trouble every chance you got. But now, by giving himself completely at the Cross, actually dying for you, Christ brought you over to God’s side and put your lives together, whole and holy in his presence. You don’t walk away from a gift like that! You stay grounded and steady in that bond of trust, constantly tuned in to the Message, careful not to be distracted or diverted. There is no other Message—just this one. Every creature under heaven gets this same Message. I, Paul, am a messenger of this Message. Colossiains 1:22 (MSG)
“Do everything readily and cheerfully—no bickering, no second-guessing allowed! Go out into the world uncorrupted, a breath of fresh air in this squalid and polluted society. Provide people with a glimpse of good living and of the living God. Carry the light-giving Message into the night so I’ll have good cause to be proud of you on the day that Christ returns. You’ll be living proof that I didn’t go to all this work for nothing.” – Philippians 2:15-16 (MSG)
Photo by Jana Greene
By: Jana Greene
It would be my last circus.
I’d always loved the circus – everything about it. The popcorn and cotton candy, the distorted and loud fanfare music, the smell of sawdust in the enormous tent, and the animals. I especially loved the animals, garishly dressed in sequined headpieces that matched the tacky attire of their human counterparts. The animals – especially the elephants – always made my heart race.
But last year, the elephants only made my heart break.
I’m not entirely sure how it happened, but I knew in my heart of hearts that it would be the very last circus I’d attend. I knew it for certain, because I couldn’t bear the pain on the animals’ faces. The elephants, in particular, with their intelligent eyes that don’t just reflect pain, but also the countenances of broken spirits. Listless, resigned, going through all…
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Note: this post has nothing whatsoever to do with Donald Trump. Or politics, for that matter. Well, I suppose it could, if politics make you want to drink / use … I totally get that, if they do. In which case I highly recommend fasting the news entirely. Is it important to be up on current events? Sure. Is it worth you sobriety? No freaking way.
By: Jana Greene
Just a little bump. That’s all I need.
A little something to get through this feeling of pain / elation / worry / regret / boredom. (Really, any strong feeling will do.)
Feeling are so…I don’t know…FEEL-FULL.
I never used street drugs, and I’m not bragging about that. It is purely by happenstance that I didn’t go that route. I do love me a good high. Alcohol was my drug of choice. But its a drug nonetheless.
A bump can be anything, really.
A drink. A pill. A random sexual encounter. A binge at a slot machine. An impulsive buy on Amazon to make yourself feel better. And then another. And then another and another. Anything to distract you from All The Feels.
Trading endorphins for guilt later is never a good deal.
The only thing I’ve ever known to trump the bump is a prayerful flooding of the Holy Spirit.
I have a theory, but it’s a working theory. And it goes like this:
High is the state in which we were born and built to function.
But not on drugs or drink, which are counterfeit, temporary conduits of “high.”
Kind of like the Texas saying, the higher the hair, the closer to God? I like to think “the higher the propensity to use drugs and alcohol, the more desire to be close to God.”
I’ve seen it too many times for it to be coincidence. The people most entrenched in addiction are the most sensitive to feelings and thought. They are usually Seekers. The hungrily fill the void with all manner of self-soothing behaviors.
Just a bump, you see. It always starts out with just a bump. And that’s the first lie to oneself, that shortcoming.
The thing about seeking is, there’s nothing wrong with it. We were born to seek, born to crave the high. The problem comes in when we use our own wits to fabricate it. It’s called “sin” in the Bible, but we don’t like to cal it that anymore. In truth, it doesn’t matter what you label it, so long as you realize what it is.
This is also known as Step 7 recovery work:
“Humbly asked Him to remove all our shortcomings.”
If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness. (1 John 1:9)
My default setting is to numb out in lieu of asking for help to overcome my shortcomings. As an alcoholic, that’s what my body and mind want to do. I would love to say that after 15 years of sobriety, drinking never crosses my mind, but that would be such a lie. It’s sneaky, that addiction. Much like a computer that has been programmed to ‘default’ to a certain setting, something in me – the genetics for addiction? – There is a pattern of negative thinking that leads to default. I’m just wired that way.
But that’s not a mistake. I am also wired to bask in the presence of the Creator. That’s why ‘high’ is our preferred state, and that’s my story – I’m stickin’ to it.
I have to change the settings, ‘manually’ – reprogram.
The best high I’ve ever known has been Holy Spirit high. For those of you who are unchurched (or Baptist…a little humor there, I was raised Baptist, so I can joke….) there is this perfect state of nirvana that comes from being filled with the spirit of God.
Religion may be the opiate of the masses, as Karl Marx is famous for having said. But RELATIONSHIP with God is the Ultimate High.
God is, simply put, Love Incarnate. Jesus Christ came as God in a human body to show us how to do life on life’s terms – and with victory, even!
When you are too busy trying to figure God out or justify reasons not to believe, there is no room for the Spirit. Trust me, I’ve learned this the hard way.
Throw everything that turns you off to God from the table. It’s probably man-made anyway. The cheap stuff. Do yourself a favor and:
Lather, rinse, repeat … as often as your brain tries to default to numbness through any number of destructive behaviors.
SUCH PEACE can overcome you in God’s presence. Almost like you were MADE to seek it.
The thing about seeking is, there’s nothing wrong with it. We were born to seek, born to crave the high. The ultimate Good News is that it was planted there by a Creator who loves us more than anything, and who poured Himself over bone and under flesh to prove it.
Ain’t no high like the Holy Spirit High. Trumps the ‘bump’ every time.
Go ahead and be FEEL-FULL. It’s alright. No numbing agent required.
I’m so grateful for that.
By: Jana Greene
At the end of the day, bad things are going to happen and there’s nothing any of us can do about it. That’s the truth.
If Jesus wasn’t spared suffering, we aren’t getting out of it either. I’m not here to feed you a line about everything happening for a reason, and God opening a window when you could really use an actual open DOOR, etc. etc.
A lot of bad things happen this side of the Kingdom that I don’t understand.
Nothing irks me more than Christians who talk of God as if he easily figured out. As if he is Russian gymnast coach, watching your every stance to make sure you stay perfectly aligned on the balance beam, or a lottery god who increases the odds of your winning the jackpot if you buy more prayer tickets.
Stop glossing over the sovereignty of the Almighty God in order to try to understand why the world isn’t a fair place. Of what use is a god your mind can figure out?
It would be much simpler if he were that god, easier to understand. I can grasp the concept of statistics and unattainable perfection. Those are human ideals. The odds are not in our favor.
But God is. In our favor, I mean. No matter what the extenuating circumstances dictate.
God Jehovah, grant me serenity!
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
I struggle at times. I have a void, maybe you do, too. I was born with mine, like a birth defect – a life defect. A character defect, as they say in The Rooms. The void is a greedy and cavernous hole. Sometimes it is lined with depression or anxiety, sometimes frustrations and disappointments. I have, at various times, tried to pour alcohol in the hole, over eating, self-pity, various forms of people-pleasing … you name it. It eats the lining away for about five minutes (or until I finish the 12th brownie) and then just ends up being a bigger hole.
God heals it up every time. He tells me it isn’t a defect. He tells me the scar is beautiful. But sometimes I pick at it until it bleeds again.
I worry too much for the past, try to figure out the future, and totally forget to live TODAY in the meanwhile.
Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
I want the world around me to be a calm place, steeped in a lavender vibe, full of shalom.
I want to fall asleep easily at the end of each day, to feel the sweet cream of drowsiness anoint my spastic mind and soak into my every fiber until I can really finally, you know, rest.
I want people to be excellent to each other. And if not excellent, just shoot for not being a total jerk, for crying out loud.
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
I want the void filled. I have faith in the sense that I know God is not a merciless taskmaster and that all things will work to the good of those who love him. But I still get frustrated with the status quo.
And I just wish more people loved him. Oh that they KNEW him, they couldn’t help but adore him.
I think maybe the void is supposed to be there. Like perhaps always having it with me keeps me desperate for Christ in a way that facilitates my very intimate relationship with him. If so, it is a defect I am glad to carry.
Taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Not as I would have it. Not as I would have it. Not all lavender sweet cream and shalom. Not when the GOP and the Democrats align views and sing Kumbaya together. Not when people stop cutting me off in traffic. Not when I lose 20 pounds, become a legit writer, balance perfectly on the beam. Or win the lottery.
Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His will;
I surrender all. God grant me the serenity – not the complacency – to surrender all.
That I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely
happy with Him forever in the next.
Bad things will happen and this world is a mess. We don’t have to understand why it isn’t a fair place, we just have to carry a message of love to the broken world.
Maybe we should agree with the world that YES, terrible things that make no sense happen and there is no denying it. But there is a Force of Life called Divine Love, and in the end, LOVE always wins. That’s all I know.
But that’s a tall order. It’s a really hurting world.
God, grant me the serenity. At the end of the day, help me to trust your sovereignty in this world…this messed-up world that you SO loved that you sent your only begotten son. Take the space in my void and fill it with Holy Spirit so that some of that sweet insatiable unconditional love spills out of me and into the world. And keep pouring.
Amen
(The Serenity Prayer)
I am My Beloved’s, and My Beloved is Mine.
I really do!
By: Jana Greene
“Did you lose the bet?”
It was a man’s voice. I was sifting through birthday cards at the drugstore, and it took a moment for me to realize he was speaking to me.
“Excuse me?” I said politely.
“Did you lose the bet with your husband?” He nodded at me, looking at the words on my t-shirt.
Emblazoned in simple, black lettering on the front of the pink shirt: I love my husband.
“Nope,” I said, laughing a little. “I just really do.”
He shrugged and walked away.
Another time, I had a nurse who was taking my blood pressure say, “That’s an interesting shirt. What does it say on the back?” He was thinking maybe that there was a snarky retort on the reverse…a zinger.
“Nothing,” I replied. “I just love my husband.”
“Huh.”
I’d bought the pink t-shirt it at a bookstore…
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Keys in Wilmington, NC
One single car ride.
I don’t even remember where we were are going, my mother and I … just she and I alone in the car. I must have been ten years old, right on the cusp of Mommy Worship and Mommy Disdain. My young mother still in her late twenties – a beautiful, volatile, ball of energy and light. I catch a glimpse of her sideways as we rolled down the road. She smiles, turning the radio up.
Baker Street, her favorite song. We hand-crank the windows down – Gerry Rafferty’s tinny vocals blasting us like the wind. She sings:
Winding your way down on Baker Street
Light in your head and dead on your feet
Well, another crazy day
You’ll drink the night away And forget about everything.
Filaments of her blonde hair whip about her face, and I feel a pain for loving…
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By: Jana Greene
Hello, Dear Readers. I hope this post finds you staying nice and warm, safe and happy.
Remember when The Prayer of Jabez was such a big deal? It was a huge movement, based on Bruce Wilkinson’s book “The Prayer of Jabez: Breaking Through to the Blessed Life.” The premise was based on this scripture and encouraged readers to ask God to increase their territories in order to influence the world for God.
I’m just amazed, ya’ll. Because 15 years ago I was utterly hopeless where Christ found me. I didn’t expect to live – or to even want to live – sober. Nobody (and I mean nobody) knew how much I was drinking and hiding. It was the loneliest place in the world to be. I guess that’s why I’m so open and transparent about my alcoholism and recovery. I’m not alone anymore, and I live a life I love. And every day, that is a sheer gift. One that I am not willing to keep to myself.
It’s pretty easy to hide behind a keyboard to write and blog, but another thing altogether to share my story with such a large audience. I’m welcoming any and all prayers and warm fuzzies you’d like to send my way. For calm nerves. For boldness. For Holy Spirit to orchestrate my words so that they may reach exactly the ears that need to hear my story of HOPE.
I will update the post when I find out when the piece will air, etc.
Thank you again for your readership. I’m so blessed by it.
God bless us, every one.
Jesus as depicted in stained glass in St. Patrick’s Cathedral, NYC. My Jesus loves everyone. Everyone is precious in his sight.
Meet Joe.
Joe is a Christian who struggles to keep his blood pressure under control. Following his doctor’s advice and having the support of his family, he manages to healthy. He keeps encouraged by those who love him, and that makes all the difference.
Meet Sarah.
Also a Christian, she is a survivor of breast cancer. She has suffered through a double mastectomy and many chemo treatments, and is currently in remission. She surrounds herself with people who love her to stay in a positive mindset, and has the admiration of the community for the brave fight she has waged.
And Sam.
Sam’s diabetes demands constant care. The dietary and medical choices he makes impact his life every day. Sam is very open with others about his condition, as…
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By: Jana Greene
Good Tuesday, readers.
I don’t normally post only content from another source, but I’m making an exception here because I believe it is so succinctly presented, and um…David Bowie reasons, of course.
I love when the reporter asks him “So you don’t drink, not even a glass of wine?”
(Oh my lord, how many times I’ve gotten that question. If you ever want to blow someone’s mind, confirm to them that no, not even a ‘glass of wine’ – not even on a special occasion….)
And Bowie patiently responds with: “No, it would kill me. I’m an alcoholic, so it would be the kiss of death for me to start drinking again. MY RELATIONSHIPS WITH MY FRIENDS AND MY FAMILY are so good and happy for so many years now, I wouldn’t do ANYTHING to destroy that again.”
BOOM! Boom chocka locka BOOM.
Enjoy this little video. And God bless us, every one.
I purposefully took my time to write this piece, as I wanted desperately to do the memory of David Bowie justice. Thanks for the memories, O Great One. You will be missed.
By: Jana Greene
In the summer of my 13th year, I fell in love. And the man I fell in love with passed away last week.
I fell HARD, much like the object of my desire who fell to Earth, when I first came to love his music, and again when I found out he passed away.
As a young girl, I’d heard Space Oddity play on the radio and was completely transfixed. What did I just HEAR? I’d always loved music, but this…this? This was another thing altogether.
From then forward, I was obsessed. Everything Bowie wrote or sang, every cameo he made in a film, every poster featuring his amazing face from obscure and punk-ish Houston area shops, every book written about him – I couldn’t get enough. My bedroom walls were plastered with his beautiful visage.
I was David Bowie two Halloweens in a row. First, Ziggy – and then as Bowie from his Serious Moonlight tour. In retrospect, it seems a little creepy but I promise you, my intentions were purely meant to be the sincerest form of flattery. (There is photo evidence of the latter picture. I think I was 16 years old.)
By the time Bowie enjoyed another wave of popularity even among my peers with “Let’s Dance” in 1984, I resented that other people were just now appreciating him.
SO mainstream, ya’ll. Have you even HEARD of Ziggy Stardust?
Still, I played the new album into the ground in my Sony Walkman cassette tape player – always with ear phones in so that I could enjoy it as loud as I pleased and as privately as I desired. Rewind, and play again. And again.
When I went to see Bowie in concert on his Serious Moonlight Tour, I’d spent hours fantasizing about meeting him, and – possibly one day, you know, marrying him and enjoying a lifetime soaking of his supreme and inconceivable amazingness. Pretty standard teenage girl stuff, but it didn’t feel contrived.
It felt possible, silly as it seems now.
Bowie made me believe anything was possible.
I would try to get my friends to listen (especially to the old stuff) and they would be like, “Yeah, he’s okay.” And I was like, “ARE YOU NOT HEARING WHAT I AM HEARING!?”
So, when I was growing up, everyone was all Madonna and Duran Duran and Rick Springfield and Pat Benetar, and I’m not dissing any of those artists.
But Bowie? He belonged to ME.
Maybe he belonged to you, too.
So I hope that you understand that – as I write this post – I am considering the David Bowie who belonged to my heart. He will always be THAT Bowie to me. When I was going through a very tumultuous family life, he was a constant and his music was my therapy.
He taught me so much in those tender years, and I wouldn’t have grown up the same person without those lessons:
He made it okay to feel misunderstood.
The world is not going to understand you. You are entirely too unique to be fully understood, and thank God for that. Bowie did music like nobody had ever done before. NOBODY. He didn’t really care about topping charts or being popular. It was all about the music, man.
Unconventional beauty is FAR superior to conventional beauty.
Pale and pasty? The Thin White Duke fit the bill. His teeth weren’t great. His nose was crooked. But no matter how many ch-ch-ch-changes his persona underwent, I sincerely thought he was the most beautiful man on the planet. You go on ahead and wear makeup and spike your hair and shave off your eyebrows, and dress in an unforgiving leotard, you cool, confident cat, you.
Hunky is B-O-R-I-N-G. Keep your Tiger Beat Magazine hearthrobs. YAWN.
(Oh, and his eyes were two different colors, too. Did I mention that? BRB…SWOONING.)
Reinventing yourself is perfectly acceptable.
Do it unapologetically, or not at all.
Treat everyone like a rock star.
One of the things that stuck out to me is that he treated reporters interviewing him with the same respect as he might the biggest names in the music industry. He was by almost all accounts, just a really kind person.
A gentleman’s gentleman. Equally at ease performing “Dancing in the Streets” with the venerable Mick Jagger as singing a duet of “Little Drummer Boy” with Bing Crosby.
Be refreshingly positive whenever possible:
“Don’t let me hear you say, life’s taking you nowhere.” (Golden Years)
Whether I like it or not, Bowie planted a seed of compassion in my spirit for the androgynous, the sexually confused, the gender benders.
I still don’t really understand transsexualism, etc. I’m just being honest, it’s just not my struggle. But Bowie showed me that it’s essential to love people different than ourselves. His sexuality, which seemed to morph as often as his persona, just simply was NOT THE MAIN THING about Bowie. He was so much more. I still carry that seed of compassion, and I’m grateful that he taught me how to germinate it.
You can love, admire and respect people who you don’t understand AT ALL. It’s just that simple.
Don’t let anyone put you in a box.
Bowie Culture is that it’s okay to reinvent yourself 1,000 times. You don’t owe anyone an explanation either. Switch it up and let that freak flag fly.
Be the best WHATEVER you authentically ARE.
“And these children that you spit on, as they try to change their world, they’re immune to your consultations. They’re quite aware of what they’re going through.” (Changes)
A better set of lyrics about the angst of youth I’ve never seen, and likely never will.
It’s okay to be a little weird:
Did you ever feel like the weirdest kid on the block growing up? Me too. Bowie taught me that we’re all weird in our own ways. And that it’s pretty wonderful, actually.
Addiction is overcome-able.
This lesson would come later in my life and in his. Like a good friend that you keep up through the grapevine, I’d heard that he’d conquered an addiction to cocaine in the ’80s. While not surprising that a great talent did battle with a drug (creative people often do) he inspired to to believe I may conqueror my own alcoholism one day. And I did. I’ll always appreciate his candor in owning his disease and strength in overcoming it.
And lastly, being a spiritual Seeker is an admirable pursuit.
Although Bowie experimented with all kinds of spirituality, it seems he camped out in Christianity, which gives me so much happiness, being of the faith myself. I can’t wait to see him in The Kingdom, maybe share a cup o’ Joe with him, and tell him what a difference he made in the life of one little girl.
CLICK HERE FOR STORY ABOUT BOWIE’S SPIRITUALITY
By: Jana Greene
“None of us has ever seen a motive. Therefore, we don’t know. We can’t do anything more than suspect what inspires the actions of another. For this good and valid reason, we are told not to judge. ” ― Brennan Manning, The Wisdom of Tenderness: What Happens When God’s Fierce Mercy Transforms Our Lives
You don’t understand me. You may think you know me, but you don’t.
If you only knew my heart … you might not judge me so harshly.
Or, you might judge me even more harshly….if you knew my heart.
A few weeks ago, I posed the simple question on social media: “If you could describe the feeling of being judged by others in one word, what would that one word be?” I received an avalanche of responses from people of all different ages and creeds – in rapid succession. Most of the responses were graphic…
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By: Jana Greene
A popular Christian culture adage is: “If you want to walk on water, you have to get out of the boat.”
I’m not sure the un-churched among us get the reference. So I’m writing this post for anyone who…
(A) Knows about the biblical Peter and chuckles a little at the phrase, or
(B) Is convinced that walking on water is impossible because SCIENCE, and considers stepping out of a perfectly seaworthy vessel to walk on the surface of water just another of the nutty things Christians like to think Jesus did back in the day.
But Jesus isn’t the only one who walked on the water – Peter did as well.
Of all the disciples that Jesus called his crew, Peter is my favorite by a landslide. Peter is my homeboy.
He was all emotion, all of the time. I GET that. If any disciple made Jesus want to face-palm, it was probably Peter.
Peter was a Flaky-Fervent paradox.
A story in Matthew 14 describes Peter’s bravery, faith and faint-hardheartedness thus:
“…With the crowd dispersed, Jesus climbed the mountain so he could be by himself and pray. He stayed there alone, late into the night. While Jesus was praying alone, some of his followers – including Peter – were out fishing.
……Meanwhile, the boat was far out to sea when the wind came up against them and they were battered by the waves. At about four o’clock in the morning, Jesus came toward them walking on the water. They were scared out of their wits. ‘A ghost!’ they said, crying out in terror.
But Jesus was quick to comfort them. “Courage, it’s me. Don’t be afraid.”
Peter, suddenly bold, said, ‘Master, if it’s really you, call me to come to you on the water.’ And Jesus said “come ahead…
Jumping out of the boat, Peter walked on the water to Jesus. But when he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink. He cried, ‘Master, save me!’
(I’m certain that Peter’s thoughts are legion – How deep IS this water? What is Jesus THINKING? Are there sharks in here, perhaps even giant squid? What about jellyfish? And getting struck by lightning? I can’t believe I am going to die this way….and I’M SINKING!!!)
EYES ON ME, PETER…EYES ON ME…. Jesus reminds the sinking disciple.
Although Jesus slapped his forehead in frustration (okay, that part is my translation…) “(He) didn’t hesitate. He reached down and grabbed Peter’s hand. Then he said, ‘Faint-heart, what got into you?’
…The two of them climbed into the boat, and the wind died down. The disciples in the boat, having watched the whole thing, worshiped Jesus, saying, ‘This is it! You are God’s Son for sure’!”
– Matthew 14:24-36 (MSG)
Ya reckon?
Peter was your passion guy. Even though he doubted, he JUMPED. He often didn’t let a thought cross his mind before it was out of his mouth. He was all-out, sold-out, 100% loyal to Christ, until that one time when he wasn’t…..and it was a biggie. He denied that he even knew Christ THREE times during the night of Jesus’ trial. Jesus had predicted the denial earlier in the day, but Peter implored his master that he would NEVER deny him, no way ever, and how could you even THINK such a thing, Jesus?
I think Peter made Jesus face-palm, but I KNOW Peter broke Jesus’s heart. Still, his love for his follower was so great that it eclipsed Peter’s foibles. Even after walking on water, he denied Christ. Jesus could have washed his hands of Peter, but He didn’t.
Having changes his name from “Simon” to “Peter” – which means “rock” – Jesus assured his capricious, water-walking brethren “And on that rock, I will build my church.”
Jesus, who had his pick of any of the Holy Rollers of his day, didn’t choose the well-schooled priests and rabbis. The Torah memorizers. The judges. The Men who knew all the rules.
But he bypassed the most religious men of his time to build a church on the back of Flaky Pete. And it’s still standing thousands of years later.
After his resurrection, Jesus even took special care to rehabilitate Peter and assure him he was forgiven. He loved him, and that love was enough to spark a mission to redeem the whole world. Love is THE most powerful force. Stronger than gravity, or science, or giant squid. Jesus kept Peter above the waves, and He does no less for us.
God calls us to do impossible things at times. Are you a paradox? Welcome to the fold.
Do you find yourself called to believe what your eyes are telling you are not true?
Do you jump out of the boat and take a few steps, only to let your mind assess the reasons you will fail to float?
Your spirit may feel as heavy as a huge pack of rocks. But no matter….
EYES ON ME, Jesus is saying. EYES ON ME. You only start to sink when you take your eyes off of Me and consider all the dangers below.
If the Rock didn’t sink to the bottom of the ocean with Jesus guiding him, neither will you. Neither will I.
Courage, fellow paradoxical friends, and boldness.
God is calling you to do the impossible, Faint-Heart. Step out of the boat with the assurance that this is IT. He is God’s Son for sure.
And all things are possible with him!
I love, love, love this video (CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW). The music is stirring, the visuals stunning, and the message precious beyond all measure. I pray it blesses you today, water-walkers.
God bless us, every one.
By: Jana Greene
I never smiled with teeth showing before I got sober.
When you are trying to shrink back into yourself, your smile can’t be genuine.
For a while, every photo album I had seemed to have this ONE photograph of me from the year 2000. It was taken at work, and as my job was in an elementary school, it was quite literally an awkward school picture for the directory.
On the cusp of my 32nd birthday, hair bleached blond, face bloated, eyes downcast, and a slight close-lipped smile for the camera. The whites of my eyes were slightly yellowed. I was afraid of my own shadow; afraid of myself.
It was taken two weeks before I got sober and stayed sober.
For years, every time I’d come across a copy of that one picture, I’d throw it out. It brought up such primal feelings of disgust. Now, I wish I could find it to share with you.
The image is burned into my brain. I’m not disgusted by that young woman anymore. I just feel sad for her. I know she is me, but she is also kind of a stranger.
I want to reach back in time and hold my active-in-addiction self. Tell her she will be okay.
“You wouldn’t say ‘boo’ to a goose right now,” I’d say.”But one day you will be wild and free. And smile with TEETH showing, even.”
I would tell her that she will not drink herself to death. That she doesn’t need alcohol to function. That the drug is LYING to her.
I want to tell her that its LIBERTY to be free of protecting secrets.
I want to let her know that she will feel like she is dying when she divorces the drink, but she won’t die.
I would implore her to go ahead and FEEL all of those feelings instead of numbing them. They have a right to be felt.
I would tell her that major boundaries are going to have to be built, but that she will survive the fortifications.
I would tell her she will one day be okay with being fully HERSELF – crazy and silly and ridiculous. And that the people who really love her stick around are not repulsed by the real self, but drawn to it.
I would tell her that her daughters will not be ashamed of her. That she isn’t a terrible mother, just a sick one. That one day those children would be proud of her sobriety.
I would tell her that life doesn’t get easier, but she gets more able to deal with life on life’s terms. For real.
I would tell her that she would experience a happy marriage – something recovery would make directly possible. That there is so much to GAIN from living a life free of addiction.
I would tell her to cut herself a freaking break, already. (And that she would be working on this one for quite some time…and that’s perfectly okay.)
I would tell her that God is more than capable of getting her through a recovery life. So capable, in fact, that she one day will not SHUT UP about Him and His infinite goodness and GRACE, and that grace will become the platform of her entire life. A good life, made possible by active recovery.
I would tell her she will smile with teeth, genuine-like.
And I would tell her she is loved. That I love her.
I forgive her.
I cannot find a single copy of the ‘before’ picture, but I can show you the ‘after.’
I can assure you that all of the things I would tell my old self are also true for you, that recovery is there for the taking. That God’s grace is available in the the same measure to you, no matter where you are on your journey or what you are recovering from.
God bless us, every one.
By: Jana Greene
Hello, Dear Readers.
I don’t really have a story or a pithy piece of sentiment to accompany this blog entry. That will come later this weekend, God willing and the creek don’t rise…
But I’m so excited to share my evening with each of you. What a supportive, amazing, wise and compassionate group of readers God has blessed me with.
So it will be short and sweet.
Earlier this evening, I attended my Celebrate Recovery home-group at a meeting to pick up a chip.
My 15 year sobriety chip.
Fifteen years of recovering from alcoholism.
I never thought my recovery would ‘stick,” but I keep surrendering my will to God’s (it is sometimes still a struggle), and He keeps bolstering me in supernatural ways, and somehow….here we are. If I am not vigilant and committed, it could become un-sticky. I respect my disease.
Had I not gotten sober, I would be dead. No doubt about that.
But through Christ, I am an OVERCOMER.
Not only was I given a lovely 15 Year chip commemorating my continuous sobriety, but this nifty bracelet (read the backstory, it is SO cool….) – THE JESUS NUT. Yep, that’s me!
I keep sobriety by letting others know it is available to them, too.
One day at a time. Still, always…one single day at a time.
Thanks, Jesus.
I’m so grateful.
God bless us, every one.
And THANK YOU for your readership.
Happy New Year!
Musings of a Gypsy Soul 