tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34834999584609337312024-03-05T13:35:42.944-05:00Before the Mountains Were BornAlexis Szymanskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15342043370883594463noreply@blogger.comBlogger5125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483499958460933731.post-39055240834812525362021-03-11T13:58:00.002-05:002021-03-11T14:03:11.534-05:00Whose I am<br /><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCsf3_XfBSGQxZldznnKZLaVUMZGFhnXoMeWHcuWoMM1uTFoQXMUtBQSySdaARVY6GFQB4cW9X-Ss6L8Iq61SGBVjfwkJWoeMN9-RlUqKTd5N553-Qzr1j_VTmz7kZ4V9LkIavIWe71Dc/s2048/Job+23%253B13.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1638" data-original-width="2048" height="402" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCsf3_XfBSGQxZldznnKZLaVUMZGFhnXoMeWHcuWoMM1uTFoQXMUtBQSySdaARVY6GFQB4cW9X-Ss6L8Iq61SGBVjfwkJWoeMN9-RlUqKTd5N553-Qzr1j_VTmz7kZ4V9LkIavIWe71Dc/w503-h402/Job+23%253B13.jpg" width="503" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div>
Humility maneuvers me out from under the weight of constantly evaluating my own performance. It's freeing and exhilarating. It is "thinking of myself less." Stepping into the question of who I am according to God, His Word says things like "chosen," "elect," "heir." I don't want those labels to throw off my jam. Humility is a slippery fish. It's a virtue you pray for, and you hope no one notices it for fear it will vanish if they point it out. Developing cancer before your twilight years offers a fast-track to the pedestal platform.</div><div><br /></div>
The Sovereign and Everlasting One who gives me those impressive labels as a believer in Christ - let's trust Him again a little more. Let's remember humility was His idea, not mine.<br /><div>
Philippians 2:5 "Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death-- even death on a cross!"</div><div><br /></div><div>
We are called "children of God." John 1:12-13 A child's personality starts with very little form. Little strangers they arrive. To his community his best definition comes by identifying to whom he belongs - Joe's son. His parent lends his characteristics to that tiny child until the little one grows to define himself. So our Father does the same. We are lost, shapeless. He lends us the cloak of His identity calling us His own. Then He grows us into the likeness of Christ, giving us a place in His body. It is His action, not our inherent merit that defines us as His child.</div><div><br /></div><div>
And so it is with all of those titles: they point to what He has done. Ephesians 1:4-6 <u>He</u> loved us. <u>He</u> chose us. <u>He</u> decided to adopt us. He is the actor in all these events, not me. He is always the Initiator. I am responsible just to respond.</div><div><br /></div><div>
"Redeem" means "to recover (something pledged or mortgaged) by payment or other satisfaction." It assumes an inherent value before the act of redemption. What was my inherent value that He chose to redeem me? This feels a little risky. Genesis 5:1b "When God created man, he made Him in the likeness of God." A print is a likeness of a great painting. The paper has no particular value outside of what is placed upon it. Adam's clay had no particular value until God placed His likeness upon it. He is the First, the Last, the Same. He was the Initiator in creating us, just like He was the Initiator in redeeming us.</div><div><br /></div>
Rejoice. His Word confirms my hope that I really can be free of striving to actualize my own inherently valuable identity. At the root of it all, the inherent value that is in me, in each person, is only that which He gives us. He redeems that which is already His, His image, for His pleasure because of His great grace.<br />
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Isaiah 43:1</div>
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But now thus says the Lord,</div>
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He who created you, O Jacob,</div>
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He who formed you, O Israel:</div>
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“Fear not, for I have redeemed you;</div>
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I have called you by name, you are mine."</div>
<br /><br />Alexis Szymanskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15342043370883594463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483499958460933731.post-10304630952011227902021-03-11T13:52:00.004-05:002021-03-11T14:03:00.895-05:00Defining and Redefining<h1 class="passage-display" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 20px;">
<span style="font-weight: 500;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 18px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1aYdMgF5P7TmSINloX2zpJIlxk6N3KJdn6NIY13Gx6osGvDse1MkNI_NUZplMCYgWZo8mTPRqQ5SmVKjsF9mzT3rxfsOf7j1-ldCDoObuOIXde_SGXozUprXGN8J4-EYG1lCDPYkero/s2048/Psalm+66%253B4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1609" height="583" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis1aYdMgF5P7TmSINloX2zpJIlxk6N3KJdn6NIY13Gx6osGvDse1MkNI_NUZplMCYgWZo8mTPRqQ5SmVKjsF9mzT3rxfsOf7j1-ldCDoObuOIXde_SGXozUprXGN8J4-EYG1lCDPYkero/w457-h583/Psalm+66%253B4.jpg" width="457" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-size: 18px; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="font-size: 18px;">I have succeeded in finding 10,000 different versions of myself that do not work. </span></span></h1>
<h1 class="passage-display" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 20px;">
<span style="font-size: 18px; font-weight: 500;">Identity is the great American conundrum: Find out who you are. But How? Look inside. Certainly don't let anyone tell you who to be. If I don't know and I shouldn't ask, how do I find an answer? "If you have to ask, you'll never know," said Angelica to the bafflement of the other Rugrats. I believe she distilled our culture's advice for defining our identities.</span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: 18px; font-weight: 500;">This question buried me as soon as my abstract thinking emerged. A couple years of loneliness and self-deprecation were enough for me. Jesus stole my heart when He told me I could be imperfect and fully accepted. When you turn on the light, the bugs come. </span></h1>
<h1 class="passage-display" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 1.1; margin: 0px 0px 20px;">
<span style="font-size: 18px; font-weight: 500;">My English teacher surmised that I disliked "Catcher in the Rye" because I already knew who I was. I looked askance at that comment. I was already in a relationship with Jesus, but I had this sense that I was foolish for seeming like I "knew who I was" at age 15. </span></h1>
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<span style="font-size: 18px; font-weight: 500;">Then my brilliant college professors taught me, in at least 5 different classes, about "identity foreclosure." The American Psychological Association calls this "premature commitment to an identity: the unquestioning acceptance by individuals (usually adolescents) of the role, values, and goals that others (e.g., parents, close friends, teachers, athletic coaches) have chosen for them." I thought they caught me. It seemed to me that they were saying I had failed to explore all the identities available to me by letting go of the search for myself in favor of the search for depth of knowledge of Jesus. My parents believed - obviously I was a mindless follower. So failure took on inappropriate authority in my life again: failure to choose an awesome career I loved, failure to conceive spontaneously, failure to be the placid, earthy mom I imagined I would be, failure to keep my house sparkly clean and charming. Tip of the iceberg. These were all failures </span><span style="font-size: 18px;">to carve out a strong, dazzling, unique identity on my own power. </span><span style="font-size: 18px;">I wanted to prove that I had a valuable identity, since Jesus-follower was, apparently, not enough. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18px; font-weight: 500;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18px; font-weight: 500;">This past year I failed again, more painfully than ever. It's one way to look at it: I had made a promise. I found that I couldn't keep it. There are lots of ways to looks at things. There are also lies. S</span><span style="font-size: 18px;">omething changed when I began to believe God's Word is actually true, holding authority over the word of man, the musings of social philosophers. </span><span style="font-size: 18px;">I have been distracted long enough. I have been entangled by this confusion for too<span style="font-family: inherit;"> long. Following my heart as per the world's advice has only brought me anxiety and disappointment. "The heart is m</span>ore deceitful than all else a</span><span style="font-size: 18px;">nd is desperately sick; w</span><span style="font-size: 18px;">ho can understand it?" Jeremiah 17:9</span><span style="font-size: 18px;"> You mean my heart? Yes. And. Amen.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 18px;">"Before the mountains were born or You brought forth the whole world, from everlasting to everlasting, You are God." Psalm 90:2 He made reality. Reality is God's perspective on things. "For You created my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother’s womb." </span><span style="font-size: 18px;">Psalm 139:13. In knitting the artist pays minute attention to each stitch. It's not like slapping up some paint. I imagine Him lining up my DNA strands and knitting them together. He who knows everything, has some things to say about who I am and who I am meant to be. In fact, His Words about me are abundant - a deep tranquil pool, its surface ripples gently,<br /> dark blue and shining white like glass. Parched for true water, living, life-giving water, for just one moment I stand on the edge and thank Him just for the fact that He has something, anything to say to me about who I am, knowing that whatever He says, it is true.</span></div>
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Alexis Szymanskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15342043370883594463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483499958460933731.post-60619442868222586372021-03-11T13:45:00.001-05:002021-03-11T14:02:45.185-05:00Analysis Paralysis<p class="MsoNormal"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUsxl-07xrMDpkWvySccNEPptg2KJRjqFEpe2zB2lEgO-hTexZs3_Ie68RnMa1-No3i6jN2KyfAFvQoqkPvUoAE8ATGHn4Jg9LdtGda9kf5CXfUTi_AXFmwLdWsZHbwiu5BwVPbeIX-0/s2048/Galatians+2%253B20.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="533" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUsxl-07xrMDpkWvySccNEPptg2KJRjqFEpe2zB2lEgO-hTexZs3_Ie68RnMa1-No3i6jN2KyfAFvQoqkPvUoAE8ATGHn4Jg9LdtGda9kf5CXfUTi_AXFmwLdWsZHbwiu5BwVPbeIX-0/w533-h533/Galatians+2%253B20.jpg" width="533" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span></div>The difference between despair and hope is not what I
expected. The tension created by consciously choosing to trust God hour by
hour, doesn’t lull me into tranquility. It stimulates me to act. I see so many
possibilities on the nearby landscape to start the climb like a giant spilled
his boulder collection in the grass. There is no trail to be seen. I didn’t
expect this. I don’t know anyone who has done this. The expectant energy and
the mental darting from start to start to start creates a blur in my mind that
I disdain. Fear of never starting bubbles up. I’m glad it does. I hand it to
God who already has my fears of rejection, failure, offending my friends or
family. Fear is going to accompany me so must God. But not as support staff.
He’s not a mule. He’s the Sherpa. If all He did was save me that would be
enough. But He wants to show me the way.<p></p><p class="MsoNormal">When I ask Him, the first priority for decision-making is
easy: “To live is Christ, and to die is gain” Philippians 1:21 NIV. The One who
saved me from the namelessness, childlessness, depression, from cancer, from my
sin. Which step will give Him glory? As soon as I look at His face to ask, I
realize I didn’t ask Him whether this mountain is for me. What if my Father
asks me to give these tiny babies away? That fear is an unavoidable possibility
if I really have no gods before Him. My breaths become shallow. No. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m afraid of You. Not affection-driven fear of Your
displeasure, but fear that You won’t give me what I long for, what burns in me
like fire, a conviction that compels me almost beyond my own choice. But I
can’t mistrust your plan. You have brought me through every trial, given me
every blessing, every breath, every cell of my being. I know you are good.
”Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him” Job 13:15. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love You so much it hurts. It runs deeper
than my passion for this dream. It was just quieter in this moment. Truth
slices that pride-borne fear out of my hand. Your ways are not my ways. I see
my error: <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I act as if these embryo
babies were ours, forged with courage and sacrifice. I was wrong. I was wrong.
They are His as I am His. Not my own. “Do you love me more than these?” John
21:15. Yes, Lord. “Seek first the kingdom of God, and all these things shall be
added to you” Mathew 6:33. He is not the Sherpa. He made the mountain. He knows
the end of the story. Maker. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I bring my coffee for courage. “I have been crucified with
Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which
I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and
gave Himself for me” Galatians 2:20. You made me and You love me. Your devotion
is humbling. Your authority is staggering. “Then He said to them all, “If
anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross
daily, and follow Me” Luke 9:23. There is a glimpse of my next step, but this
is all the learning I can handle for now. <o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and
trust is your strength” Isaiah 30:15. So I worship. You deserve it more than I
will ever understand.<o:p></o:p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div>Alexis Szymanskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15342043370883594463noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483499958460933731.post-22242607630324556322020-08-28T12:00:00.015-04:002021-03-11T14:02:16.589-05:00Timing<br />
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There is a tension I feel when it’s time to pick up one of my kids and something gets in the way. My investment in other goals vaporizes. I start feeling irritated by conversations I would otherwise enjoy. My arms and chest feel crawly, needing to move toward my girl or else the anxiety spurts out in testy, regrettable remarks. I enjoy time alone to think whole thoughts without interruption, but leaving my little one always hurts a little. I look forward to reaffirming her trust in me and celebrating our togetherness.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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When our youngest was born in 2017, having four children ages 5 and under and a new house was beautiful, wild, and exhausting. I proclaimed a gestational hiatus, so we planned to pick up our next tiny one from Magee Women’s Hospital in fall of 2020, in order to work through the newborn gauntlet when my youngest would turn four instead of two years old, our previous target. When she actually turned two, meeting their many needs got easier, so we considered moving the time table up. I met with the fertility practice, but God led us to wait. We thought the reasons were to enjoy a little more simplicity in our home life and to save up money. Six weeks after that decision: cancer.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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I was not pregnant when the cancer was found. That is a miracle. I have to remember that. I have to thank God and worship Him that He spared us that terrifying conflict. I have to consider that merciful providence when waiting hurts. I think so often of my brother’s friend who lost his wife to uterine cancer shortly after their fourth child was born. We have no idea the calamities that God keeps from us. Satan has only destruction planned for us. Think of the loss he inflicted on Job, when in His sovereignty, the Father agreed to allow it: instant, complete ruin. My Father has kept me from all of this. He sustains me and our family every moment. Job 12:10 – “In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind.” That’s not just abstract humanity. That’s me. Every breath is a gift from Him.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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I want so badly to meet our little one on my timeline: cursory meeting with doctor in July, unremarkable testing in August, a frozen embryo transfer in September, then if need be, in October and November. It truly burns in me like the panic of having my toddler stuck in a locked bedroom . But there isn’t a door to smash. It’s maddening to rage against an absence. I cannot safely carry them. Why has He put us here?</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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My only sanity is His Word, like oxygen when my fear is strangling me. 1 Samuel 7:12b “Thus far the Lord has helped us.” That passage explains how the Israelites set up a monument to remind them of God’s miraculous destruction of their enemies. Remember. I have to remember to keep moving through fear. He saved me from sin and despair. He is forming godly character in my husband. He gave us children when it seemed impossible. He gave us a family of believers to walk with in faith. He took my cancer away. These are things He has done. I cannot ever know all the grief that He has kept from us.</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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The long-term plan belongs to Him because He sees the entirety of the story, not me. It is His story, not mine. At any point He can bring His will to pass. In a moment. I am given only days, moments of days. That’s all the farther I can see. Miracles are His prerogative. Obedience is mine. That is His grace. His provision. Remembering His faithfulness lets me trust His promises. I ask Him to simplify my perspective. I pray over and over: Psalm 90:12 “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.” He has assigned to me: small steps. Miracles are up to Him. Thanks be to God.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
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Alexis Szymanskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15342043370883594463noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3483499958460933731.post-88233601004860295932020-08-14T12:00:00.028-04:002021-03-11T14:02:30.580-05:00Fear<div class="WordSection1">
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How are we going to do this? The fear is almost paralyzing.
My thoughts scrabble around the sides of this muddy hole for days. Beyond the
hole’s rim is a steep mountain with a cloud-enveloped summit. I can’t grasp a rope,
a root, a handhold. My thoughts sink into the pit every moment another human is
not speaking to me.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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“Are you ok?” My husband’s question rang out. Light flashed
into the barren sinkhole, and I realized my mind’s eyes had been closed. “No. I
am not ok.” What a relief to realize it.<span style="color: red;"><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, my broken
brain machine had slipped me into a depressive thought pattern. I recognize
this place. I stumbled into a stronghold the enemy loves to use against me. But
this time I know the way out. I open my eyes to Truth. Proverbs 16:9 ESV “The heart
of a man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps.” Steps. He won’t
draw me a map. He will show me the steps. And there is the first handhold.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This situation is embarrassing. Hiding in a hole has genuine
appeal. We prayed that we would be in God’s will and believed He would honor
our desire to follow Him. Notwithstanding, it’s hard to listen to God’s voice
when the screams of your drowning dream for a child are roaring in your ears,
and the panic is making it hard to breathe. I can’t ever feel confident that we
made the right choice… Slipping... Truth. Romans 8:28 ESV “And we know that for
those who love God all things work together for good, for those
who are called according to His purpose.” Right choice. Wrong Choice. Doesn’t
matter. God was in control. And He still is. Foothold. Step. Arms pull. Legs
push. My eyes peer over green blades of grass. Daylight Truth pours over the
landscape into my eyes and I’m dazzled. <o:p></o:p></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m overwhelmed by the wisdom He offers and the options
before me. Now I have to choose. Eyes dart. There is fear again. But this time
I realize the fear isn’t the pit. It’s just one thought. I won’t build it into
a barren well of many bricks of fear and hide in it. Truth. 1 Peter 5:6 NIV “Humble
yourselves, therefore, under God’s mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due
time.” “Father. Guide. I can’t carry this brick. It’s too heavy for me. Will
you hold this?” When I hand Him this fear there is an agitating vacuum in me. I
can feel it physically, drawing me towards it. But He holds it. He gives to that
vacuum more Truth. Isaiah 40:31a NIV “those who hope in the Lord will renew
their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles.” He names our arrangement:
God-carrying-my-fear-because-I-can’t is Hope. And yes, Lord, it does feel like
flying.</div>
<br />Alexis Szymanskihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15342043370883594463noreply@blogger.com0