Christian living Archives | Grace on Parade

October 12, 2017 by Karen Wingate Leave a Comment

Guilt, Rubber Balls and Glue Sticks: How To Bounce Back From False Guilt

Have careless comments from others left you with a load of guilt?

Are you the kind of person who mulls over past decisions and reflects on others’ opinions about those decisions? Does that leave you with a case of the could of, should ofs?

Be rubber, not glue, my guest, Linda Cobourn, advises.

I love this post! Ever since Linda shared it with me, it has run through my mind countless times as I’ve reminded myself, Let it bounce off of you.

When I think of rubber, I think of those wonderful paddle ball toys we played with when we were children. We’d try with all our might to whack that ball just to watch it bounce helter-skelter. Sometimes I feel whacked by life, ready to crack at the seams. What fun to be like that rubber ball! Any whack would just make me bounce higher and, in fact, might even break the paddle.

Instead, way more than I care to admit, I view problems, issues, dramatic overstatements, and careless criticisms like glue traps, crouching in the corner to grab me and hold me captive for the rest of my day. Other times, I’m like an uncapped glue stick, holding my stick aloft to catch any criticism and draw it inside of me. It clings to me and taunts me with the lies Satan would love to have me believe. You’re no good. You’re a failure. You blew it. You can’t succeed. Why do you even try?

It doesn’t have to be that way!

Let’s be rubber, not glue this week. Here’s Linda.

Caregiver Guilt: Confessions of a Walking Glue Stick
By Dr. Linda Cobourn

“I’m rubber, you’re glue, whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you.”

My father-in-law blamed me. It was unreasonable, hurled out of frustration while we stood in the trauma unit, waiting to see if my husband would survive. I was thirty miles away in a graduate class when the driver of the pick-up truck broadsided Ron’s Taurus, but the reproach stayed with me for seventeen years.

I’m a walking glue stick.

Guilt is a common emotion for those who find themselves in the position of caregiver. The 2015 State of Caregiving Report noted that 81% of spousal caregivers feel guilty, making guilt the #1 emotional trap. We think we should do it all without complaint and we become frustrated with ourselves because we can’t. We self-punish for simply being human. I beat myself up for an accident I did not cause, questioning every decision I made concerning my husband’s care. Yes, I agreed to the emergency surgery and it damaged his heart. My fault. Yes, I let him be put into the rehab unit where his slippers were misplaced and he caught pneumonia. My fault. I even had occasional thoughts that it might have been better if Ron had not survived the accident.

That thought stuck on with Gorilla Glue.

But God is a solvent to even the strongest of adhesives. I began to search the Scriptures for a way to dislodge my self-reproach. One day, I was led to this verse in Joshua 5:9:
This day have I rolled away the reproach of Egypt from you.

The Israelites had been so beaten down by 430 years of slavery they no longer believed God could love them. Before they entered the Promised Land, God told them that the shame they carried was rolled off them. They were not stuck with the reproach of Egypt. They could stop being walking glue sticks.

So could I. It took time, prayer, and counsel from friends to realize that the guilt I bore was irrational. I held myself responsible for things that were not my responsibility. God had forgiven my shortcomings; I needed to forgive myself. Time to learn to be more like rubber, repelling thoughtless remarks.

Just the other day, someone ventured to criticize a decision I’d made for my husband’s well-being. I let it bounce off me.

Because it really is better to be rubber.

ABOUT LINDA:

Dr. Linda Cobourn is a Literacy Specialist who works with at-risk learners and non-traditional college students. She holds Instructional II certificates from Pennsylvania and Delaware in Elementary Education K-6 and Reading PK-12. Dr. Cobourn earned her doctoral degree in Educational Leadership, focusing on the use of critical literacy in middle school. Currently, she teaches at Springfield College in Wilmington. She was recently cited by the Mayor of Philadelphia for her work constructing literacy programs for inner-city youth. She is the author of three published books and writes a blog at http://writingonthebrokenroad.blogspot.com/

September 8, 2016 by Karen Wingate Leave a Comment

God’s Forever Love

Let those words seep into your soul. God’s love endures forever.

Psalm 136 is unique to the book of Psalms. It’s the one and only Psalm where each thought connects to a repetitive phrase. It’s like a hymn with 26 verses followed by the same refrain. Over and over, 26 times, the same words.

His love endures forever.

It’s as if the author needs to drill it into our dull brains. Each time the refrain affirms God’s activity in creation and in the lives of the Israelites. God’s love endures forever. Life was tough. Those were hard times. But hey, remember? God did mighty wonders. He got you through it. He led you through the desert.

His love endures forever.

Even the phrase is redundant. My pastor/husband told me the Hebrew word for love isn’t as we understand love. The word the author used is more the idea of covenant faithfulness; God will stay faithful to His end of the bargain and do for us what He has said He will do no matter what happens to us. Some translations catch this understanding by translating it as “His steadfast love..”

I didn’t really understand how God’s love for me could be a forever kind of love until I thought about the way humans love, the way I love, the way I worry how my sweetheart loves me. Young love is insecure. He loves me, he loves me not. If I don’t answer his text within 15 minutes, will he think I don’t love him anymore? If he doesn’t help me with morning dishes or kiss me goodbye on the way out the door to work, has his love for me diminished? Teenage friends are best friends forever until someone else comes along. We draw lines in the sand. You do this, Buster, and I’m out of here.

I once joked with my husband that the day he says a fast food restaurant serves better burritos than I can make is the day I file for divorce. It wasn’t funny. How could I possibly allow a personal preference, as wrong and silly as it might be, to drive a wedge between our love for each other?

I remember the story of a woman who was in a horrific car crash. Her face was pulverized. Her husband came to the hospital, took one look at her, and left, never to return again. 80-90% of marriages with special needs children end in divorce, unable to endure the strain and stress. The love didn’t last forever. It had unspoken limits.

God won’t do this. Burritos, car accidents, and unexpected journeys with children that lead to Holland when you thought you were going to Italy will never turn Him away from us. He’s in it for the long haul, for the forever haul.

We know this in our heads. We nod in agreement when we read Psalm 136 in church. Yet in real life, when bad things happen, we often immediately assume God has abandoned us. Where was he? Where is He now? Does He care?

Why do we assume this?

If we use the fact, “his love endures forever” as a starting point, we have to come to another conclusion. Instead of questioning God’s loyalty, we need to accept that He is loyal because He has said so. How would that change our attitude?

God’s love is consistent, never changing. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. I find it comforting that no matter what happens to me and no matter how I react to what happens to me, He’s still there. He will be there for me. He doesn’t view me any differently. The dirt and grime I gather from the muck and mire of life doesn’t disgust him. He’ll hug me when the blood is still on me, mingling it with His own.

When I falter for the five hundredth time and cry out to Him yet again, He’ll lift me up. Again. Again and again and again. Unlike me with my children, husband and weaker brothers in the faith, God will never run out of patience with me no matter many times I fumble the ball of life. As I crawl through the knees of the giants that surround me, trying to retrieve the ball, He’ll hand it back to me and pull me upright once more.

So next time you hit the wall and are tempted to think God doesn’t care, don’t think it. It’s not an option. Before your brain protests about God’s love, remind yourself: His love endures forever. Base everything on the foundational fact that God does indeed care about you and on His part, He has made a covenant that He will stay faithful to you, no matter what happens to you.

The more important question is this: Are you willing to stay faithful to Him, no matter what?

June 28, 2016 by Karen Wingate Leave a Comment

How Much Is Enough: Grace and God’s Expectations

Have you caught yourself ever asking or thinking this?

“Will God still let me into Heaven if I ______ (fill in the blank)?

Yeah? What about this one?

“I’m afraid I’ll get to Heaven and God will tell me I didn’t do enough.”

I’m not sure if I’ve said either one but I think I’ve thought both. Probably more the second one than the first. I have heard folks express either one in so many words.

The problem is, both miss the point. The grace of God isn’t like either one of these.

Some people overstep grace, thinking God’s undeserved gift is so based on faith alone that we have the freedom to push the limits. Once forgiven, always forgiven, right? As long as we believe, right? As long as I don’t let myself get sucked into a continuous pattern of sin, right? God wants me to be happy and enjoy myself, right?

That’s like a soccer player asking his coach whether they can still win the championship game if they practice one less hour a week. Well, yeah, but . . .

The definition of Biblical faith is an active faith. We obey Jesus’ commands and behave in certain ways because we trust God to know what is best for us. Like actions toward a parent we adore, we wouldn’t want to do anything to displease our loving God who has sacrificially given us so much. So while, yes, God will let me into His heaven if I’ve watched an R rated movie, got a tattoo on my ankle, or sat in a bar, His eye is on the bigger picture and He wants my eyes to look in the same direction. I have to ask myself: am I doing these things for my own pleasure or am I doing them to please God and strengthen my relationship with Him? Once I’ve accepted His grace, I’ve accepted His world-view as well. I’m going to choose to do things that please Him. I’ll make choices that show my loyalty to His Kingdom instead of supporting and strengthening the kingdoms of this world. After all, God looks on the intents of the heart more than He does the outward action.

Lest you think I’m hammering the freedom lovers, let me examine the fingers that most often point at me. Have I done enough for Jesus? After all, I don’t want to let down my Lord.

God does not stand ready to zap you for not doing one more thing for him.

Some Christians are so concerned the Lord will meet them at heaven’s gate with a disapproving frown. He’ll say, “I am so disappointed. You didn’t volunteer for that committee, you never stepped foot in the nursery, and couldn’t you have fixed just one more dozen cookies for Vacation Bible School?”

Is God such a nitpick? What about the dear soul whose aging body and physical deterioration won’t allow them to get down on the nursery floor, bend crooked fingers over the organ keys, or grip a wooden spoon to stir a batch of brownies? I have news for you. Tally marks were banned from Heaven a long time ago. God wants your love, not a completed accomplishment log.

The person trying to do one more thing for Jesus hasn’t caught the essence of grace either. Perhaps we have to ask ourselves—am I doing all this extra work to get God’s approval, or the approval of others? Maybe I don’t want to let me down. Maybe, <blush> I’m trying to look better than the Christian brother or sister next to me?

The person trying to do one more thing for Jesus hasn’t caught the essence of grace.

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There’s no pecking order in God’s Kingdom. And if there is, wouldn’t it be a sorry day to discover God’s brand of holiness was far different than the external actions we so often count as spirituality? I’m slowly learning that it doesn’t matter who gets the work done in the Kingdom of God; it matters that it does get done. There’s a lot of work to do if we’re going to rescue as many people as we can from Satan’s clutches.

Accepting God’s grace is relishing His forgiveness so much that we want to hold on to that restored relationship forever. We want to walk with Him and talk with Him. We want to learn what makes Him tick and how we can tick right along with Him. We’re enjoying our salvation so much we want others to know about it too, so we’ll roll up our spiritual sleeves to do just anything we can to get the word and the love out. We delight to see His smile when we use our gifts to make something beautiful for Him.

We’ll still make poor choices. Sometimes, really poor choices. There will be moments when we cave to the lures of the world and forget about the love of the Father. Like anything in life, following Jesus takes practice. Plenty of mistakes happen in practice sessions. We get up and try again. Our task is not to feel like we’ve failed Jesus but to use those moments to learn how we can do better next time. Not because we have to—but because we want to.

God wants a relationship with you more than anything else.

We keep trying.

Jesus emphasized in the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30) that we are to give back the best of what God has given to us, not the same amount that others give. We keep searching for ways to “I love You, Lord, with all my heart.” After all, He loves us. First. Always. Lavishly.

He did everything He could to bring us back to Himself. He wants us more than anything.

March 8, 2016 by Karen Wingate Leave a Comment

Worry: The Worst Kind of Stew

Saint Patrick’s Day is coming. St Patrick’s Day makes me think of Corned Beef and Cabbage, Irish Soda Bread, and Lamb Stew. Mmm, stew. I’m smiling. Because stew makes me think about worry. Okay, my mind is connecting random dots. What gives?

We all worry. We may just express it in different ways.

Some are stewers.

Some are doers.

I’m a stewer. I tell people I’m a great cook. I make the best stew ever. The most succulent of stews sit on the back burner or inside a slow cooker on a low boil all day. Yep, that’s me. My worry matter can simmer in my mind for hours throughout the day and even worse, throughout the night. If I cooked real stew like I simmer my worries, I’d win Food Network cooking contests.

That may be a great recipe for stew but it’s a rotten recipe for successful, stress-free living. The only thing simmering worry produces is sleepless nights, red eyes, and stomach knots, leaving the worrier even more incapable of coping with life. Been there, done that, got the face wrinkles.

We hide the way we worry. We act like everything is all right. We let it creep out under the guise of a prayer request. We come up with multiple solutions of how to handle the situation. We let our imaginators run wild, writing fictional scenes in our brains that rival Stephen King’s creativity, as if trying to prove to ourselves we can handle the thing we fear.

I did that the other night. I had received an email that registration was now open for the annual writer’s conference I’ve attended the last two years. The email triggered memories of the struggles and obstacles I faced those two times as a visually impaired person. As I lay in bed that night, I conjured up the worst thing that could happen to me at the next conference and painted myself into scary scenarios as the conquering heroine tapping her white cane through obstacle filled corridors to win the hearts of awe-struck editors.

I couldn’t state my plot line in two simple words. “I’m worried.” No. No ma’am, no sir. Worry is a sin. I surely don’t want to admit a sinful stain in my life. Worry at its essence is doubt in God’s ability to handle the situation. I don’t want someone to think I’m weak on the faith front. I’m the one who writes articles about worry that ask, “Do I believe in God or don’t I?”
The crowning incredulity of my worry is that this conference is six months away. And I lost three hours of sleep over this? Silly me!

“This is so hard,” I’ve heard my Bible study ladies say. “I say I’m going to turn things over to God then I try to take them back.” Just like a yo-yo on a string. Like my worry. I thrust it toward the Lord, then reel it back. I need to cut the sting.

Every day is a new struggle, I tell my ladies. Every day you face the monsters. Some days you do better than others at overcoming. Each day, you get a little better at the conquest. One day, in Heaven’s courts, God will wipe away the tears shed over the struggle.

I understand the mantra of Alcoholics Anonymous is “One day at a time.” Reforming alcoholics never let down their guard. They celebrate the sobriety of one day, but the next day begins a new battle. That’s good advice for any of us who struggle against a particular sin. Including, ahem, worry. Take one day at a time.

God does that with us. He reminds us that His faithfulness, His grace, is new every morning. I need to return the favor. I need to let God know each and every day that I intend to stay faithful to Him, that I intend to rely on His faithfulness today, just for today.

After all, isn’t that part of the message behind “Give us this day our daily bread?”

I’m not going to think about tomorrow, Scarlett O’Hara, because tomorrow is a long way away. Lots could happen between now and then. For now, I will concentrate only on now, this moment, and how I’m living the now to God’s glory.

No more stew. Just pass me the bread.

Here’s some great quotes about worry. What’s your favorite quote?

And my favorite, from Jesus:

worry quote 5

Have careless comments from others left you with a load of guilt?

It doesn’t have to be that way!

Caregiver Guilt: Confessions of a Walking Glue Stick By Dr. Linda Cobourn

ABOUT LINDA:

His love endures forever.

His love endures forever.

Have you caught yourself ever asking or thinking this?

We all worry. We may just express it in different ways.

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Caregiver Guilt: Confessions of a Walking Glue Stick
By Dr. Linda Cobourn