What Makes Good Friday So Good?

Today is Good Friday. I have been reading my friend’s thoughts about this day on Facebook. So much of what I have been reading is encouraging. But what’s so good about today? Didn’t seem to be too good of a day for Jesus. I am reminded of a comment a friend of mine made when the movie “The Passion of the Christ” came out several years back.  We had been talking about the intensity of the beating Jesus took and how in the movie they would have to break away to a memory of Jesus  to give the audience a break from the horrific beating Jesus was taking.  I had said “the movie only captured a small portion of what Jesus went through. It was mild compared to the hours of relentless beating He actually took” My friend’s response “I don’t care how you look at it, but in the movie, Jesus got His ass kicked.” He was not being facetious. He was clearly shook.

I have been thinking about that conversation a lot this week. Jesus did get way more than just His ass kicked on Good Friday. He was separated from the Father, ripped from the Trinity, forsaken, deserted spit upon and mocked. For us. For me. For you.

I don’t know fully know what it cost Jesus and will never fully understand the sacrifice He made. My Pastor always says when we get to heaven, we will clearly see Jesus gave up something, the price will be more felt and understood by us. Jesus did it so I can live life fully, freely and forgiven. He did it through the Cross.

He hung on the Cross for each time I hurt another person. Each time I gossiped. He was beat for the times I hated my mom and refused to forgive her. He died for the times I have sinned sexually. He was mocked for the lies I told, for the times I chose what I wanted at the expense of others. He was separated from the Father for times I spent money I didn’t have to fill emptiness that could never be filled. He died so the addictions in my life could be broken. And He died for the wrongs done TO me.  And the list goes on and on.

Jesus took it all and rose from the grave three days later as proof the sacrifice was accepted by God. The power that raised Him to life, now lives in me.

So I don’t beat myself up. That is not the point of the Gospel or what Jesus wants. Jesus died so I could be restored to relationship with Him and with others. He wants me to be grateful and to take full advantage of the love God lavished on us. To try to earn it or feel guilty about it is not honoring to Jesus or what He did on the Cross.

Shame, guilt, and condemnation have no room in my life. To wallow in any of these is to live way below what Jesus accomplished on the Cross.

Good Friday. Good for me. My whole life rests on this day. My foundation, my starting point. The price paid on this day makes everything else possible. This amazingly, wonderful, beautiful life I have starts here — at the Cross of Christ. My forgiveness comes from here and the power to do what He has called me to do.

My response? Gratitude, awe, thanksgiving. And a determination to make my life count.

Cross of St. Mary’s

 

Cross on Lake Erie outside of town.

 

Cross at Camp McPherson

The One in Which I got a Spray Tan

In my last blog, I wrote about how amazing my summer was,  and some of the lessons that I learned. I realized while writing it one would not be enough. So I ended the blog “to be continued.” This blog is the continuation.

Lesson #3: Sin is a lot like a spray tan…it looks good and makes you feel good for a while but the aftermath is not pretty or worth it!

I had the honor of being a part of two dear friends wedding this summer. I have always liked how I look tan (vain I know 😉 ) but had given up using a tanning bed a few years back. A friend suggested we go and get spray tans together a couple of days before the wedding. I was nervous because I had seen that episode of Friends….you know the one…the one where Ross goes into a tanning bed and gets confused and only gets sprayed on one side multiple times. I so could see myself doing the very same thing. The lady took me back and showed me the awkward poses I needed to do. The most confusing one was the “pose like an Egyptian”. There were two ways to do it to make sure all of your skin was sprayed. She pointed out a poster (that was to the side, outside the tube I would be in), reminded me to listen to the cues and left me on my own. It was way too complicated. I missed a couple of cues because I was looking at the poster to the side but made it out alive. As the evening went on, I began to get darker and darker and darker. In the morning I decided I liked it though it was a pretty drastic change. The day of the wedding came and I was feeling pretty good about it. I had a cute new dress. I was excited for my friends. It was a beautiful, warm August day.

The part I didn’t mention was that I was co-officiating the wedding with my boss. The place for the ceremony was beautiful. It was in a chapel on the shores of Lake Erie. It was also not air-conditioned.

When I get nervous, I sweat. A lot.

Not some dainty, lady-like perspiration but the someone-turned-on-a-faucet-inside-of-me-full-blast kind of sweat.

And I had to stand up there with the bride and groom the whole time. And the ceremony was so touching and the groom was crying and when I see men crying, I lose it. So there I stand…sweating and crying. I’m sure you know where this is headed. As the ceremony was coming to conclusion and they were announced Mr. and Mrs. I looked down and saw brown water trickling down my leg. I was mortified. And it made me more nervous which made me sweat more which made more brown water trickle down my leg. I had forgotten about the spray tan. So at this point I am in full-blown panic mode.  Now I know that probably no one noticed but I did. And it was disgusting. And it was all over my clothes. And it was coming off kleenex like foundation. The next morning I woke up and the spray tan was all over my sheets and comforter. It was a mess.

As I looked at the carnage in my bedroom, I realized sin is very similar to spray tan. It makes you look and feel good for a while but the aftermath and price you have to pay is way too high. With the spray tan there was a lot of cleaning up to do. I looked good with the tan for a while but I got to the point during the wedding with the one thought “I hope no one notices, I hope I don’t embarrass the bride and groom, I hope I’m really not peeing my pants…” A lot of us stuck in sin think the same thing “I hope no one notices, I hope I don’t get found out, I hope I don’t embarrass my family.”

The great thing about Jesus is He sent the Holy Spirit to convict us, to let us know when we are doing things that will harm ourselves or others and our relationship with Him. And even if we ignore it and end up with a colossal mess on our hands and consequences to be walked through, He is always there to forgive and get us up and on the right path again.

I will never get a spray tan again. At least I got a good story out of it.

We are all hot messes!

“Wow, she’s a hot mess.”

These were the words that greeted me and my dog as we walked through the groomer’s door. At first, I didn’t know if she was talking about me or the dog…

I have had Woodstock for 5 years. She was a rescue dog from the APL. She had been severely neglected when they found her. When I got her, you could see her ribs and there were huge patches of hair missing due to poor nutrition and fleas. And she had at some point in her life had puppies. Neither the APL nor my vet know how old she is because her teeth were in such poor condition. But she is the one of the coolest, craziest looking dogs I have ever seen. She is a chow/golden retriever mix and has the sweetest temperament. She has red hair and looks kind of bohemian. My family tells me all the time she is fat. I have overcompensated through the years because of her neglect. I have made sure she is never hungry. She also hates water so I have not always made her take baths. And the two times I took her to a groomer, they did not want her to come back without anxiety medicine. She does not bite, she just becomes 100 pounds of dead weight.

This is Woodstock the day I brought her home from the APL. So skinny!

Woodstock now

I have to be to the church on Sundays at 8 a.m. Today I was struggling to get there on time…I even got up earlier. When I got to church, a good friend informed me that I had my Spanx on backwards and that she could see the size through the eyelet on the back of my dress. (For men who don’t have to worry about such things or even knows what it is…Spanx is the 21st century’s version of a girdle….yes I wear  a girdle though spanx sounds so much better 🙂 To top things off, someone who is like a dad to me was trying to compliment me on how nice I looked said, “You look very robust today…” Look up the word robust…it’s not what a woman wants to be called. Haha! Right before the second service I was standing in the middle aisle, talking to some people…and as the screen was counting down the time until service started (we were down to 10 seconds), my necklace with a hundred different size beads broke. Everywhere. Down the center aisle. We scurried to get them all picked up before service started. I was a hot mess today.

This past week I have thought a lot about the lady’s greeting about Woodstock being a hot mess. And how many of us feel like that all the time. And for some of us that keeps us from coming to Church. From coming to God. Our personal lives our a mess. Our finances are in a disarray. We don’t know how anyone could love us especially God. And the one place people should feel welcome, the Church, they don’t.

I remember three people in my life who God used to love me right where I was…the mess that was Heidi. The first person was a lady named, Nita. She was my best friend’s mom. Their family introduced me to Christ. They met me when I was 8 years old and prayed for and loved me until I was 15 and finally came to Christ. I was rough. Not always easy to deal with. At the age of 10, I remember teaching my best friend, her daughter, a card game that my family played. The name of the game was “Screw your neighbor”. I’m sure I said a whole lot of fun stuff. She never condemned me or acted shocked, she simply suggested we name it something else…I think one of the suggestions was “fornicate your neightbor” 😉 . She could have decided to “protect” her daughter from the likes of me. I was a bad influence. But she never made me feel like one.

The second person I remember was a Bible college professor. It was my sophomore year of school and I was an emotional mess. It was the time of my walk with the Lord that He began to deal with me in regards to inner healing. I had been through some stuff and done some stuff before coming to Christ. I remember the love and acceptance he showed me as I dry-heaved into a garbage can as I confessed and dealt with sin and stuff from my past.

The last person I remember (though there are many), is my current Pastor, boss, and friend…Jim Cooper. My first place in ministry was amazing but there were some rough times. My pastor (a dear friend and mentor) that I worked with at the time had a nervous breakdown and had walked away from ministry and his family. I had to step in and Senior pastor. I never had time to deal with the impact of my mentor and boss falling. I came home for a couple of months. During the second month, Pastor Jim asked me to come work with him. That was 12 years ago. I still remember sitting in the toddler room in chairs made for 3 years old, talking about what was next for me. I had other offers. But what I needed was a safe place to heal. The thing is,  I didn’t even know I needed healing. I am so grateful for the healing God has given me. And am forever grateful for Pastor Jim and taking the time to allow a hot mess to heal!

Best bosses, pastors and friends in the world!

I write all of this to encourage those of us who call ourselves Christians…followers of Christ…to accept people where they are. And as people walk through the doors of our churches, our first thought should not be “what a hot mess she is.” Our first thought should be “Let me show you the love, forgiveness and acceptance Christ has shown me!” The world will know that we are Jesus’ by the love that we have for one another. I think I read that somewhere 😉

 

 

Bullying and the Power of Forgiveness

Every so often, we are confronted with how ugly we can really be as human beings. It happened to me today. I am quite ashamed of the following story I am about to share. I don’t come off looking good in it at all! And I am mortified that I used to be this person.

Yesterday I ran into a person that I went to school with from elementary through high school. It was not the first time that I have run into her since moving back to Vermilion 11 years ago. Every time I run into her, we would talk and catch up. She has always been so very nice to me. When I ran into her yesterday she was with a lady from my church. I was really excited to see them together. I greeted her warmly and didn’t think twice about it.

Today in church, the lady who was with my former classmate came up to me. I could tell she was hesitant to tell me something. She finally told me that after I left yesterday, her friend told her how mean I was to her in school. When I was a freshman I threw her books out of our locker into the hallway. (In high school, we were assigned a locker partner. You could switch but everybody had to be in agreement). She said I did it because she didn’t like David Bowie (ok…I admit it…I was a huge David Bowie fan) and I wanted a locker partner who liked him (and my best friend was a huge fan). I honestly do not remember doing this at all.

I cannot tell you how awful and ugly I felt when I heard this. I just could not believe it. I really wanted to find a rock and crawl under it. I thought I was so nice in high school. I got along with everyone. I was in shock. I hated mean girls and here someone was telling me that I had been ONE!!! As I sat in church, my heart just broke. I felt like such a hypocrite. I am always talking to our youth and my nieces about being kind and not being a bully. That every person has value and worth.

And I had been what I despise the most…a bully. Even typing this, my eyes swell with tears and my stomach feels sick.

And the thing that got me was that I really liked this girl in school. She was so sweet.

I prayed that God would forgive me. I thanked Jesus for shedding His blood  so that this, even this, could be forgiven.

As soon as Pastor Jim said his final “amen” I made a beeline for the lady who had told me all this. I told her that I have to make this right. She agreed to give me her cell number.

I want to say that when I got home that I immediately called her. I didn’t. I agonized for about an hour. I contemplated e-mailing her or looking her up on Facebook. But I knew what I needed to do.

I called her.

I was so relieved when it went to voice mail. I left my name and number wondering if she would call me back.

She did.

I apologized for being so cruel. I apologized for not remembering even doing it. I told her that I found Jesus my sophomore year of high school. That I am not the same person. And I really don’t even like David Bowie anymore. 🙂

She was as sweet as I remembered. We talked for a half an hour. She told me stories on how rough school was for her. Kids spit in her face while teachers looked on. I couldn’t believe it!!! She did not even tell me the worst of the stories. She wasn’t angry when she told me the stories. Just matter of fact. We talked about some of the kids who had been mean to her and what their home lives were like…looking for a reason for the kids being so mean.

All I could think about was how different her high school experience had been from mine. The hell she endured. The pain she quietly endured. And I was part of that pain!

She forgave me. I know I don’t deserve it but I am so glad that she did.

I invited her to church. I hope from all of this that a friendship can grow between us. I know I don’t deserve it.

It reminded me about the power of words. We may not remember saying or doing something mean and hateful to someone…but the person that we say them to and do them to? They remember them for a lifetime. It’s been over 25 years and she still remembered the details.

It also reminds me of the power of forgiveness. She so readily and freely gave it to me. I say to people struggling with unforgiveness  that we are most like Jesus, not when we are preaching or praying for people or leading worship or traveling to other countries as a missionary or feeding the hungry (though all of those are good and godly) but we are MOST LIKE JESUS WHEN WE FORGIVE.

My classmate showed me Jesus tonight. I am humbled and very grateful.