This first wound was dealt to me when I was 17. It wasn't the first wound I ever received, but it was one of the most defining ones I had up to that point, and it had a huge impact on my life.
I was an athlete for most of my life. I started playing baseball in first grade, like all young kids I dreamed of playing in the big leagues but I didn't have the talent. When I was in seventh grade, my middle school started seventh grade sports, up until that time it was only eighth grade. They had this trophy case and in it there was a three sports award for students who played three sports with the school, I was young and figured it would impress girls, so I wanted my name on that plaque. (For two years I played three sports and my name still isn't on that plaque for some reason). I always wanted to play football, so I played that, the only spring sport the school offered was Track, so I ran distance, the two winter options were basketball and wrestling. Since I was never any good at basketball I went out for wrestling, and I fell in love with the sport.
I loved the hard work, it is still to this day the most physically demanding thing I have ever done. I loved the competition, being out there on the mat, grappling with an opponent, writing about it makes me want to lace up my shoes and go three rounds. I loved the individual side of things, it was just me out there, no teammate to pick up the slack if I messed up. I loved everything about the sport. I had some pretty crazy goals, the big one was that I wanted to be a four time Ohio State Champion, starting in 7th grade in the middle weights meant this was impossible, but I had good coaches who didn't squash my unrealistic dreams (I later had another great coach who did let me know the reality, but did it in a way that challenged me to work harder, thanks Deke).
Poured myself into this sport, training year round, running, lifting, wrestling anywhere my dad could find open mats to take me, sometimes as much as 6 hours a day. I even worked out with state champions, state placers, even an Olympian, all in the pursuit of my goal, which had become the more realistic ambition of winning a single State Title. My hard work paid off, I got better and better, beating guys who had been wrestling longer that I had, and my junior year of high school it looked like I would be heading to Columbus for a shot of my goal.
I still had some work to do, but I could taste it, fully believing that at the very least I'd make it to State and place. I had a good coach who had invested in me throughout the year, even sending me to the Naval Academy over the summer to take part in a 9 day SEAL wrestling camp, and arranging for me to work out with former champions at his house. I was in the best physical shape of my life. I was strong, fast, could go all out for six minutes; I could score points and take a beating, and I was at the point where I didn't deal with being nervous before a match and went out and just had fun. I knew that it wasn't going to be easy, getting to that point hadn't been, but I had seen the results of my work, and knew that I had what it takes to be one of 16 guys on the bracket in Columbus.
And that's when the wound came...
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Monday, July 30, 2018
Friday, July 27, 2018
The Pursuit of Healing
Wounds are a reality of life; it's just part of living in a fallen world. They come in many forms and from many sources, and each of us is going to be wounded numerous times. The good news is that wounds can heal, forming beautiful scars that tell amazing stories. Unfortunately, too many of us never seek healing from our wounds. We hide them out of fear or shame, out of a longing to protect ourselves from further hurt, or a desire to seem independent and self-sufficient. I say all of this from personal experience.
I've been wounded.
My wounds have come from people, experiences, and setbacks. Some of them were a result of my own immaturity and pride, others were inflicted by others, but each one was left to fester. I hid my wounds for a lot of reasons. People would come to me for advice, and I felt that I had to have it all together for them. I felt that I couldn't need people because they always needed me. I never acknowledged where I was hurting or when. I hid my wounds out of pride. I wanted to appear strong, mature, and on top of things, so I wouldn't let myself appear weak. I hid my wounds out of shame, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that I had been hurt, not wanting to allow emotions to have a part of who I was.
I was wounded, but I didn't want anyone to know because I didn't want to need anyone's help, I didn't want to look weak or inadequate, and I didn't want to deal with any of the pain of the past experience. I took my wounds and covered them with "band-aids" hoping they would heal on their own, but deep cuts like these don't heal without medial attention. They festered, the tissue died, and left untreated it spread and began to infect healthy parts of the body. I was bitter and angry, maybe even hateful in some cases, and the longer I left everything unacknowledged, the worse it all got. The wounds were infected and it was spreading.
When I finally realized the damage that was occurring in my life, I began to allow God to work. He removed the band-aids I had applied to cover the wounds, cut out the dead tissue, and began the slow process of stitching up the many wounds I had. It has been a long process, and we aren't done yet, but God has been at work in my life, and I'm healthier now than I have been years. I have scars that tell stories, not wounds that cause me constant agony.
The band-aid was removed when I acknowledged that I was wounded and needed God's healing to take place.
The dead tissue was cut away as I began to accept the experience for what it was, acknowledging the pain and impact on my life, and letting myself grieve.
The stitching took place by facing the source of the wound. For this step I made several trips, revisiting places and allowing God to bring restoration.
In the next several posts I'm going to share stories of wounds and healing. Right now there are five that I'm thinking of, four of these I will for sure share, and we'll see what else God brings to mind.
We all have wounds, and all of us can have scars. God's desire is not for you be the walking wounded, living in agony because of the past hurts you've experienced, He wants to bring healing, but He's a good doctor, and He will not force treatment upon you. Healing is available, and though the process will be a little painful, the end result is totally worth it. A few moments of pain lead to life of freedom and restoration.
Let me share with you the story of my scars, and may my tale of healing lead you to experience God's restoration in your own life.
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
I've been wounded.
My wounds have come from people, experiences, and setbacks. Some of them were a result of my own immaturity and pride, others were inflicted by others, but each one was left to fester. I hid my wounds for a lot of reasons. People would come to me for advice, and I felt that I had to have it all together for them. I felt that I couldn't need people because they always needed me. I never acknowledged where I was hurting or when. I hid my wounds out of pride. I wanted to appear strong, mature, and on top of things, so I wouldn't let myself appear weak. I hid my wounds out of shame, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that I had been hurt, not wanting to allow emotions to have a part of who I was.
I was wounded, but I didn't want anyone to know because I didn't want to need anyone's help, I didn't want to look weak or inadequate, and I didn't want to deal with any of the pain of the past experience. I took my wounds and covered them with "band-aids" hoping they would heal on their own, but deep cuts like these don't heal without medial attention. They festered, the tissue died, and left untreated it spread and began to infect healthy parts of the body. I was bitter and angry, maybe even hateful in some cases, and the longer I left everything unacknowledged, the worse it all got. The wounds were infected and it was spreading.
When I finally realized the damage that was occurring in my life, I began to allow God to work. He removed the band-aids I had applied to cover the wounds, cut out the dead tissue, and began the slow process of stitching up the many wounds I had. It has been a long process, and we aren't done yet, but God has been at work in my life, and I'm healthier now than I have been years. I have scars that tell stories, not wounds that cause me constant agony.
The band-aid was removed when I acknowledged that I was wounded and needed God's healing to take place.
The dead tissue was cut away as I began to accept the experience for what it was, acknowledging the pain and impact on my life, and letting myself grieve.
The stitching took place by facing the source of the wound. For this step I made several trips, revisiting places and allowing God to bring restoration.
In the next several posts I'm going to share stories of wounds and healing. Right now there are five that I'm thinking of, four of these I will for sure share, and we'll see what else God brings to mind.
We all have wounds, and all of us can have scars. God's desire is not for you be the walking wounded, living in agony because of the past hurts you've experienced, He wants to bring healing, but He's a good doctor, and He will not force treatment upon you. Healing is available, and though the process will be a little painful, the end result is totally worth it. A few moments of pain lead to life of freedom and restoration.
Let me share with you the story of my scars, and may my tale of healing lead you to experience God's restoration in your own life.
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
Wednesday, July 25, 2018
Identity
1 Peter 5.1-11 has been the main passage of Scripture I have studied this year. For me, it is a verse that focuses on the identity God has given me. Identity is essential because it defines who we are, and reveals what we are here for. For a long time, identity was something I was searching for.
One of my top three favorite movies is Gladiator, and one of the scenes that always hits me is where Maximus tells the emperor his name.
"My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions and loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son. Husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next."
This is a man who knows who he is. He boldly gives his name, and the poser emperor trembles at the site of him. I've wanted a name like that for years. I've wanted to know who I am, being able to confidently state my name. I played around with a few variations following the above model, but none of them carried any weight because none of them really came from experience. There was no trial or testing behind any of it, there was nothing that I overcame, and there was no real initiation.
For years I went through life without any real idea of who I was. Everything I did was about trying to keep up an appearance, hoping that I would be seen as what I wanted to be, but all the time knowing I wasn't that, and hoping that no one would see the insecure little boy behind the front. Things wouldn't work out, and I'd be devastated because there was no foundation behind me.
When everything came crashing down almost three years ago, I began to really seek God for my identity. In that time I've learned a few things, and for the first time in my life I know who I am, and I think I have an idea of why I'm here. If you ask me for my name, I have an answer, and this time it is full of truth.
God has taken trials and adversity and shaped me into a man with an identity and mission. He has spoken to me in significant ways that capture my heart, and showed me who I am meant to be. We've gone to places of wounding and He has brought healing. He's taken ares of insecurity and showed me what I'm made of. He's taken uncertainty and given me confidence.
In my own journey I've identified two central questions in the search for identity:
Who do people say you are?
Who does God say you are?
People talk, people judge, people mold, and as a result we hear things, think things, and come to believe things about ourselves. Some of these are good and reaffirm strengths, but a lot of the time these things serve to make us loose focus and keep us from really living. They focus on what is safe, what others think is best for us. As a result, we act a certain way, come to see ourselves a certain way, and begin to live a certain way.
Before we can embrace who God created us to be, we have to begin by looking at what we've been told, and what we now believe as a result. As part of my journey and search for identity I had to go back to key places and moments in my life, I had to acknowledge things that had been said, people who had hurt me, and bitterness I was holding on to. Through this process God brought healing and freedom, and in the next several posts I'm going to be sharing about these experiences.
I answered the first question, and in doing so, God brought about healing that allowed me to embrace who He created me to be. He wants to do the same for you.
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
One of my top three favorite movies is Gladiator, and one of the scenes that always hits me is where Maximus tells the emperor his name.
"My name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions and loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son. Husband to a murdered wife. And I will have my vengeance, in this life or the next."
This is a man who knows who he is. He boldly gives his name, and the poser emperor trembles at the site of him. I've wanted a name like that for years. I've wanted to know who I am, being able to confidently state my name. I played around with a few variations following the above model, but none of them carried any weight because none of them really came from experience. There was no trial or testing behind any of it, there was nothing that I overcame, and there was no real initiation.
For years I went through life without any real idea of who I was. Everything I did was about trying to keep up an appearance, hoping that I would be seen as what I wanted to be, but all the time knowing I wasn't that, and hoping that no one would see the insecure little boy behind the front. Things wouldn't work out, and I'd be devastated because there was no foundation behind me.
When everything came crashing down almost three years ago, I began to really seek God for my identity. In that time I've learned a few things, and for the first time in my life I know who I am, and I think I have an idea of why I'm here. If you ask me for my name, I have an answer, and this time it is full of truth.
God has taken trials and adversity and shaped me into a man with an identity and mission. He has spoken to me in significant ways that capture my heart, and showed me who I am meant to be. We've gone to places of wounding and He has brought healing. He's taken ares of insecurity and showed me what I'm made of. He's taken uncertainty and given me confidence.
In my own journey I've identified two central questions in the search for identity:
Who do people say you are?
Who does God say you are?
People talk, people judge, people mold, and as a result we hear things, think things, and come to believe things about ourselves. Some of these are good and reaffirm strengths, but a lot of the time these things serve to make us loose focus and keep us from really living. They focus on what is safe, what others think is best for us. As a result, we act a certain way, come to see ourselves a certain way, and begin to live a certain way.
Before we can embrace who God created us to be, we have to begin by looking at what we've been told, and what we now believe as a result. As part of my journey and search for identity I had to go back to key places and moments in my life, I had to acknowledge things that had been said, people who had hurt me, and bitterness I was holding on to. Through this process God brought healing and freedom, and in the next several posts I'm going to be sharing about these experiences.
I answered the first question, and in doing so, God brought about healing that allowed me to embrace who He created me to be. He wants to do the same for you.
Fight the lion, 1 Peter 5.1-11
TO GOD ALONE BE THE GLORY!
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