Sitting in judgement

I sure hope that at the end of this year, when I read a recap of 2015, I will find that it is less disturbing than that which I read a week ago about 2014. What with racial intolerances ever increasing,police killing unarmed citizens, angry citizens killing the police, child murders by their own parents on the rise, college campus rapes and violence ever increasing, school shootings having increased to a higher percentage than history ever remembers, and suicide rates climbing to the max, (to include famous people who " have everything"), our world is going to pot (and legalizing it)!

When we read these stories, we develop opinions immediately. We view ourselves as judge and jury. These are emotionally charged issues. Everyone jumps on a bandwagon of some sort. Some groups politicize the bad happenings, some groups blame the people who have been injured, saying it is all their fault. Some people even blame those who can't take it anymore by killing themselves, as being perpetrators of self-hurt and violence in our society.  

One thing is for sure...we human beings pass judgement on every situation.  It's "only human;"  even though Jesus was very clear that he would be the only judge and jury.
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“Do not judge, or you, too, will be judged. 2 For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you." Matt 7; 1-3). 

And, we still pass judgement as though it is our place to do so!

But, what if we weren't so quick to pass judgement on others? What if we looked at violent situations as an opportunity to exercise compassion? 

What if we humbly asked God to transform us?  What if we were able to become more like Him? What if we were transformed to such a degree that we were able to show compassion to others-to displace our prejudices with acceptance and love?  Would we still be so racist? Would our society still cause violence and death to its own children? Would we still look at the death of our young, black youth as a reason to cause violence?  Or would we reach out before things got out of control?

Would we see a "selfish" man who "had everything" take his own life, or would we see a man who had an insidious brain disease who felt he had no place to turn? What if, in asking the Lord to give  us compassion, we asked God to humbly remove our OWN character defects, in order that we may share in this transformation?

My prayer this day:  Heavenly Father, I humbly ask your help in becoming transformed into the person you want me to be...to be more like You.  I ask that you remove my negativity and my instinct to judge others, and to replace my judgement with love and compassion for others.  Please show me Your Way, Father God. Please help me see another point of view and not just my own. Help me be a sheep who can follow her Shepherd and become more Christ-like.  I humbly ask these things in the name of my Savior and Lord, Jesus Christ.  AMEN.

As I prepare to embark upon my Journey with Logos365 and the "Take Me Deeper" creative journaling study, I struggled with the one word I would use to focus on this year.  The instructions were simple...think of a word that describes something you want to focus on in your life within the upcoming year.  Then, as the journal prompts are given, record in an art journal (with some type of creative medium) thoughts which will answer the questions in the given prompts.  I am thinking it is a mixture of Bible study, artistic creations, and thoughts/feelings (which I may or may not share with others) all rolled into one...with the end result being an increased intimate relationship with Jesus Christ.

Everyone was talking about their "word" on the accompanying FB pages.  At first, I read all the comments and 'liked' many.  But, after a day or two, I started to get a little concerned.  Why hadn't I been able to come up with a "word?"  I had prayed about it...I was looking for those same signs...why was God holding out on me?  Why was this becoming difficult for me?  Most importantly, why was I more focused on the finding just the right "word" when I should have been focusing on Him?  Wasn't the point of this whole journey to increase my closeness with God, to become a better person, to share with others as a witness, and to develop my relationship with Christ?  So, I voiced my concern on the Facebook page and I was amazed at how many other women were struggling with the same concerns about not having their "word." And it seemed as though I learned from these women...I needed to RELAX about the whole thing...I needed to NOT make it about a WORD, or about MYSELF.  I needed to make this journey about HIM.

Just about the time I had given up on the idea of finding just that one, ever elusive, perfect "word," it happened.  I was at work where I started my day off the same every morning...cleaning up someone else's messes from the day before...just so I could help customers in a somewhat tidy environment. Now, this person, after whom I performed  my daily cleaning ritual, has many positive attributes; however, picking up after herself and following through with her work is NOT one of them.  So, as I stood at our shared desk fuming (and pretending to smile at the first customer of the day), I thought FOR SURE God was telling me that I needed to be tolerant.  THERE ITS WAS!!  It was my "word!"  Yay!  I felt like a giddy school girl who had just gotten an "A" on a big term paper.  My heart lightened, as I thought of all the behaviors that my coworker displayed that I was going to learn to "tolerate."  And, by God, I was going to do it with a SMILE on my face...even if it killed me!

Well, that lasted about an hour.  My  morning coffee wore off, and my head came out of the cloud of caffeine from which it had been floating for the previous hour.  "NO!" I begged to God silently, "Tolerance cannot be my word...I have NO tolerance for people who leave work up to someone else to clean up!  GOD, GIVE ME ANOTHER WORD BECAUSE THIS ONE IS NOT GOING TO WORK FOR ME!"  I mean, how could it?  I had been "given" the word "tolerance" and had returned it back to God, all in a matter of less than an hour.  How was I supposed to make it for a year?  I just knew I would tear my own hair out...and probably my coworker's as well!  So, I decided either I hadn't really heard God, or that HE was wrong!  Imagine how lowly I felt when HE humbled me, as He showed me the err of my thoughts.  My day dragged on, and things with  my coworker got worse...she made mistakes she usually didn't make, she was difficult to get a long with, she harassed another coworker, she was just downright unpleasant to be around.  Even for her, as a somewhat difficult person to deal with on a daily basis, she was having an extra bad day.  I asked her if I could help with whatever was going on and she told me no, thanked me for the offer, then said she would figure it out.  Something was going on with her that she didn't feel she wanted to share...or didn't feel safe sharing with me.

I questioned myself as to why I hadn't noticed her behavior earlier...I could have noticed, had I not been acting in my own snarky way, that she was having a problem.  Taking note and subsequent action is pretty hard to do, though, if you are all wrapped up in yourself; and that's exactly what I was.  As I stood still long enough to hear His voice, it was almost as though His voice infiltrated my thoughts: "Since when did you become so compassion-less?  Have I not fed and clothed you? Kept you from harm? Have I not been there to carry you through your own storms? Have I not loved you, even at your worst times?  And have I not demanded a simple commandment for you to keep, "Love your neighbor as yourself?"  Then I remembered this verse  in

 Matthew 9:36 " When he saw them [the crowds], he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.: "

Wow, talk about feeling humbled.

Yeah, the voice of God can do that to you!

Today, I know that my word is not TOLERANCE (yet).  Because God showed me that before I can be tolerant, I must learn COMPASSION for others.  It is then, and only then, can I learn tolerance. And, I can only do these things with His help.

Thank you, Jesus, for showing me that my word is compassion...and that it is not only a word, but also a command from You which I definitely need to learn!

Susan Baldridge
01/01/2015

A New Year-Take Me Deeper Journey

I am about to embark on a wonderful journey. New things are scary sometimes. All of my character defects seem to be trying to pull me away from this journey, even though I am desperate to know Christ more intimately and to experience His Supreme love and acceptance.  My seemingly lack of commitment, my procrastination, my inability to accept myself the way God made me...all these things, and others, are trying to pull me away from this walk with Christ. To combat this, I have to keep reminding myself that "the enemy" doesn't want me to succeed!  And the Bible verse that I found on the Take Me Deeper page spells out what I want...what I desperately need and want...is to get closer to HIM so that I may find myself cradled in the arms of His love. 

...so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, 18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Ephesians 3:17-19 NIV

So, here I am, just about ready for my journey. I have my 3 ring binder, my supplies, and my desire. I ask God's help so I won't fail:

God to help me because I am weak. When I feel that I want to procrastinate, Lord, please remind me that You are trying to help me see my own worth. When I want to waste time watching too much TV, or binge on cookies, remind me that there are MANY ways I have learned to deflect the importance of getting closer to You; and that only through YOU will I find my true happiness! Father When I feel depressed, guide me with your compassion, as You show me how to come out of the pit I have gotten too accustomed to being in. Help me see a better way, Father God...YOUR way.  In Christ Jesus' name, I humbly ask these things. Amen 

How it all began...

When I was in grade school, I remember being sent to my room by my foster Mom because I mouthed off to her. Little did she know that being sent to my room was a gift to me, as it allowed me to escape the ills of life and enter my own little world as it was the place where I felt safe…

Not that my foster parents were bad people, on the contrary, they were good to me. They took me in when I was seven years old. They clothed me, they provided shelter for me, and they loved and cared for me...and most importantly, I was nurtured.

My foster situation was supposed to be temporary, while my biological mother dealt with the issues going on in her life. I didn't mind being with the people who I would later in life learn to call "Mom and Dad," because I knew them already.  My biological mother and Mom Schon were friends at the time and I had spent a few summers with the Schon's in the past.  But, I had no idea why my own mother had pulled me out of school that cold and wintry morning and taken me to Ohio, where she said I would be visiting, promising she would be back in two weeks to pick me up. And while my parents lives would later come crashing down in  a messy divorce,  I know I certainly viewed my move as temporary, because that's what my mother had told me.   So, I have never faulted my foster parents for feeling like their world had been turned upside down as much as mine. There I was...a kid they weren't expecting to raise, arriving just as their own daughter had grown up and left for nursing school. I'm sure Mom and Dad Schon had expected that time in their lives to be the start of their "golden years;' a time for them to play...not the start of raising another person's child.

And what a handful of child I was!  The first few weeks were our "honeymoon" weeks. Later, the proverbial ball dropped and I found out I wasn't going back "home." After an agonizing month of crying for my family: my brothers, my own mother and father, my own home, it finally sank in...Ohio, with my foster parents WAS my new home.  My heart ached, and as unfair as it may have been, I hated my foster parents for it. In my young mind, they were the enemy and I let them know it. I managed to take every ounce of anger, frustration that I could muster from my 7 year old self and used it against them in any way possible.  I was incorrigible. But they put up with it...still loving me, disciplining me as necessary, and maybe even wanting to give up on me at times. They didn’t though, even with all my bad behavior, they didn't give up on me. I suppose they saw me as their responsibility, but they also saw my emotional needs, and they tried to fulfill them.

Of course, it wasn't until I was much older that I realized they had done their job well as parents of this scared and lonely child, who later grew into a scared and lonely teenager, rebellious in nature and spirit. It's only now, after having raised my own 3 daughters (much of the time as a single parent), that I can say "thank you" with complete understanding. Thank you for making me eat my vegetables, thank you for not letting me wear those ridiculously short skirts that the some of the other girls wore, thank you for teaching me manners,  thank you for making me enunciate my words so I wouldn't sound uneducated, thank you for making me practice my ballet and encouraging me to not quit, thank you for making me go to church,  thank you for developing my love for music...and thank you for sending me to my room as a punishment when I needed it!

It was in my own room, where I found solace. It's where my creativity started, which made way for greater expression and for the creation of who I would later become.  Sometimes, though, the messes I made got me into trouble. For instance, glue, newspaper and water messes later became paper Mache projects  for which I won awards. Getting angry and piercing my new lampshade became my first "paper piercing" project, a technique I would later teach to others in a rehab hospital where I did some part time volunteer work. Messy finger painting on paper which mistakenly overflowed into  hand prints on the floor prepared me for teaching painting classes to young children at Miss Barbara's Farm (day care) when my own kids were little. Finally, years of being an angry kid  making poor choices and hiding within myself (and my room) led to therapy where I learned to journal my feelings and express myself in verse and rhyme through poetry. 

So you can see all of my past experiences have had a tremendous impact on whom I have become.  I am not special in that way, that's just life. Everything each of us has done and everything we have experienced up to  now, makes us who we are today; and who I am today is exactly who God intended me to be :)

Welcome!

I've always wished I could have a place to share my designs and some of my creativity.  This is it!  I don't know how long it will last, or even if I will keep up with it, but I'm going to try my best.  It's nice to have a place to express myself, share ideas, and show off designs. And maybe when I hit a creative "slump" this blog will help ease me out of it (like now).    Now, to add some pictures...I think this will be fun!