Saturday, March 9, 2024

Bitterness

James 3:11-12 Doth a fountain send forth at the same place sweet water and bitter? Can the fig tree, my brethren, bear olive berries? either a vine, figs? so can no fountain both yield salt water and fresh.

I am, by nature, an observer. Usually I latch onto something strange and obscure during my low key “Harriet the Spy” moments. I mean, I look like I am just rolling along through the moment but in my head I am cataloging facts and asking questions like, “Why does that guy have one pants leg tucked in his sock?” Or, “Their right ear is MUCH lower than the left.”

I cannot help it. It’s just happening in here. 

I look at people when they talk. And I listen to what they say and what they don’t say. 

I have been a nurse for almost 30 years. That is hard for me to fathom. I think by nature real nurses are observers. (I say real nurses because I came from the era when we actually made rounds and checked on our own patients) We are always in assessment mode, checking for what is obvious and what may not be, what is voiced and what is left unsaid. I can see the change in expression, subtle guarding, and see a story unfold with no words spoken. 

One of my “observations” made over the years is that when a patient under my care passed away I could tell a lot about the family and the dynamics by the reaction to the death, mainly in the elderly patients. 

My first experience with losing a patient was an elderly woman one day when I was pulled to ICU. Her husband sat at her side holding and stroking her hand. Finally he said, “I guess we won’t go picking flowers again.”

My heart broke.

His children were there providing silent comfort and support, quietly loving on their father. 

Then another time the family came in and the daughter arrived after the father was gone. She went crazy. I chased her into the parking lot and we had to physically restrain her from harming herself. 

After I learned she and her father were estranged.

I noticed over time that usually the family members  that “carried on” the most were in some way disconnected from the person who died or there was some kind of drama surrounding their relationship. And I could always sense that thread of bitterness in their over the top grief. 

One of my favorite saying is “Be careful when you plant bitterness in the garden of your life.”
I think that is a Sheri Original. 

When you plant bitterness, you grow bitterness and your children eat from your bitter garden.

Do bad things happen? Sure they do! They happen to everyone. People let you down. You get hurt. You get disappointed. You suffer loss. Things don’t go your way. 

This is life. 

Naomi had lost her husband and her sons and was in a land alone with no family but her daughters in law who had no obligation to her.

In Ruth 1:20 And she said unto them, Call me not Naomi, call me Mara: for the Almighty hath dealt very bitterly with me.

Life had not turned out as she had planned. So, what did she do? She turned around and went back to where she came from. She heard that the Lord had been providing for her people back home in Bethlehemjudah and knew she needed to return to the place of provision and leave Moab which means “just short of the promised land.”

Obviously Naomi had lived her life in such a way that these “daughters” who were not of her blood wept at the thought of leaving her. And although Orpah did return to her family, Ruth refused. She was committed to Naomi. 

I don’t think that kind of commitment came from Naomi being a gossip. From Naomi running people down. From Naomi gripping and complaining. I think that commitment came from Naomi having grace. 

Ruth said she would remain with Naomi even after they were both buried. No histrionics were noted in this declaration. 

Naomi didn’t have a name change. She had a moment. And then she pulled herself up and moved on. Nowhere else do I note her being called Mara, although if anyone had a right to be bitter, Naomi did. But she did not plant bitterness. And in Ruth Chapter 4 we see the results. 

Ruth 4:17 And the women her neighbours gave it a name, saying, There is a son born to Naomi; and they called his name Obed: he is the father of Jesse, the father of David.

Right now I can put my finger on situations in life where people are standing at crossroads. I have watched them standing on the bank of their waters, holding a gallon of salt. And those wonderful refreshing waters are in danger of being polluted with their bitterness.

Here is the deal. I went through a lot of things, and most of those things were self-inflicted. I did not heed to the voice of the Shepherd. And because of that, I ended up, swallowed down into the waters of life. And life was full of heartache. Now, I could have pointed my finger in all kinds of directions, but as my pastor years ago said when you point your finger at others you have three more pointing back at you.

You cannot have a refreshing place for your family and bitterness. You cannot grow your family in love, peace and joy if you are feeding them the slop of life by your attitude.

Out of Naomi’s heartache and grief came the lineage of the King of Kings. Out of her loss and out of the decision to move to Moab to begin with, came the Prince of Peace.

And this happened because there was something in Naomi that made Ruth desire to leave behind her people and remain with her mother in law even after there was no tie remaining. Naomi may have been crushed but she got up, she changed her situation, she returned home, and then she directed Ruth into her future. 

A good future. 

A godly future. 

Her people became Ruth’s people. 

The laws Naomi followed became Ruth’s laws. 

And Naomi is not remembered as Mara. 

She is remembered by her name which means
Pleasant
Gentle

What legacy are you leaving for your heritage? Have you allowed the waters of bitterness to fill the pool of your heart, to pump through your blood and be passed down to the next generation? 

You cannot operate in bitterness and expect an outcome of joy. The two cannot dwell together. 

The choice is yours today. 

Saturday, September 2, 2023

Singleness Of Heart: The Many Helping The One

Do you even see them anymore? Or, has it become easy to look over them or through them? 


She sits alone at the end of the pew each service. Once upon a time she was a young bride, full of love and the promises of life to come. She raised her children and served Him in every way she could. She was always there. Then her life shattered and every dream turned into a lie. Alone now, living a life she never prepared to live, she lies awake at night without purpose, wondering if it would be better if she were not even alive. She feels rejected and unwanted, and unworthy. Because of what she has been through she doesn’t even feel like she can be used anymore, and her once vibrant altar work has become shadowed by a past she didn’t ask for. 


Or the young woman who isn’t so young anymore. Who has watched all of her peers marry and start families while she still waits. She feels too old to be involved with the youth and cannot participate in the young married group where her lifelong friends are. She becomes a gopher, a babysitter, and a planner of showers for others who are celebrating. She has stood beside many other brides and years have slipped by and she still waits. Now those dreams have dulled and her hope of that “happily ever after” seems like an impossible dream.


What about the man with his two beautiful kids who did everything right. Met a beautiful young girl and courted her. Had the wedding attended by all of their family and friends, and slowly watched the dream turn into a nightmare as she spent more and more time away from her family. And then one day she packed her bags, pushed her children in the house and slammed the door on every promise she made. Now the young father is left to pick up the shattered lives of his children and himself and rebuild alone.


There is the mother facing middle age alone after a brief illness robbed her family of the leader of their home.


The man who turned his life around and began living for God with everything he had only to lose the wife of youth because she wants no part of who he has become.


Jeremiah 10:19 “Woe is me for my hurt! My wound is grievious: but I said, Truly this is a grief, and I must bear it.”


This world is full of lonely people. And, so are our pews. We have neglected these souls that are already neglected.


While your Christmas is full of gifts, your birthday is celebrated, your accomplishments are shared, these are left to just pass another day and pretend they don’t feel the emptiness. 


Job 17:11 “My days are past, my purposes are broken off, even the thoughts of my heart.”


 Apostolic Churches are full of singles. They are in every church. They are single, divorced, widowed, separated. They are alone. They are the third wheel on dinner dates. They are the afterthought of gatherings. They are buying their own birthday gifts, and talking to their dogs for company.


They are VALUABLE. 


Psalm 31:12 “I am forgotten as a dead man out of mind: I am like a broken vessel.”


And, most of the time, they are broken.


There was a concept within the Japanese culture many centuries ago. That concept was wabi-sabi - an embracing of the flawed or imperfect. They valued those vessel that you could see the wear on, the ones that you could tell had been used. Those vessels were honored and treasured.


And when one of their vessels became broken they would use gold, silver or platinum dust to repair the damage. Whereas our modern culture sweeps up that broken thing in the dust pan and throws it away, allowing themselves only the memory of what the vessel once was, the Japanese would literally "highlight" the damage. This event in the life of the vessel became what made that vessel special.

It is stated that "the bowl had become more beautiful for having been broken. The true life of the bowl began the moment it was dropped." 


Realizing circumstances for each situation are different, the Singles in our midsts are searching for purpose and connection. 


Truthway Church in Pineville, Louisiana has formed a Single’s ministry at the urging of Pastor J. Tim Merritt. Bro. Cobin and Sis. Keesha Hebert have taken the helm to provide the group of members a safe environment and help these often forgotten to find purpose. To embrace this season as a season of growth instead of stagnation. The Mission of the group is to develop “A Singleness of Heart” (Acts 2:46 “And they, continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, did eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart.”) 


The challenge is there. How do our churches serve this lost community of Saints? How can they be made a part of the body instead of feeling apart from the body?


There are broken people in our churches, on our pews. So, remember when you find someone with their lives in jagged shards around them YOU can respond to them. You can embrace them in their brokenness and help them to see the beauty in the life God has put back together. And you can help them to understand that their  life is not over and brokenness is not the end.


Saturday, July 15, 2023

Healing for the Broken

Luke 4:18 “he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted”

In January of 2013 my 26 year marriage ended. And, with that end came an extreme season of heartache and pain. 

During that time I completely lost my purpose and my way. I found myself in a wilderness of pain and grief. Feelings of condemnation surrounded me and I would lay awake at night crying and begging The Lord to just take my life. 

The pain continued to build until it was crushing. And I blamed myself for every heartache. I felt completely unworthy and full of guilt and shame. I made a desperate mistake that continued to plague me and it felt like the talons of that mistake were dug in all the way to my soul. 

I only went to church sporadically during this time. I felt dirty like I didn’t  belong there any longer. It was a dark time for me. 

At the end of 2016 I decided to return to my True Love and my life took a complete turn as I repented and gave my life back to Him. 

Today, I can say there are scars that will always remain but He has truly healed me. 

I realize that divorce is common place these days but divorce was never my intention. Forever was. Two imperfect people said “I do” on that day in 1986. There were failings on both sides and I regret the pain of my trust in him being broken and  that I could not overcome that again. I regret a lot of things. 

There are people Iike me littering every Apostolic church. Whereas in the world at large divorce is not blinked at, the Apostolics realize keenly the beauty and sanctity of marriage. Divorce is not the norm in our ranks, but it is there. And as society continues to deteriorate it will increase. 

We need to be mindful of these broken people around us. Those, like me, who longed for that forever love, wanted to grow old with that person we had chosen to share our lives with, miss the little things about having a partner, and are now facing life alone. 

There has been a decrease in singles ministries in our ranks. I am not talking about a dating club, I am referring to a group of people we can spend time with who will help us heal and draw us into a closer, more purposeful life during this season we are in. 

He came to heal even us. Won’t you reach out today to someone who is facing life after marriage? Won’t you step into the gap and help your brother or sister find their purpose and place? They are facing things you don’t understand, I know. But your heart speaks their language. Love is universal. 

Our church has recently started a singles ministry led by one of our wonderful couples in church. We are all excited about all of the plans being made. I will be sharing more about this ministry and long to encourage others as we work toward being His hands and feet in this population. 

Stay tuned. 

So thankful I can write this today from a place of love and healing. God has been ever so gracious to me. 

Thursday, October 15, 2020

Domino

 I never really ever got to go anywhere that was just the two of us. In fact, up until that moment, I don't ever recall going anywhere alone with him except the time I was around 4 and wanted to go home from my grandparent's house right after they dropped me off and drove away. 

(He turned right around and drove the hour back to get me)

But, there we were. 

He put me in the back seat of my brother's Dodge Challenger and let me ride with him to get supplies for the hurricane that was bearing down on us where we lived in a duplex in the crowded neighborhood in Metarie, Louisiana in 1978. 

We never said a word to each other during the whole ride that I can recall. 

He was so much bigger that life to me. He had a presence that filled the spaces so there was really no room for words. He sat up straight in the driver's seat, radio blaring, and his very existence could be felt in every space in the vehicle. 

And, I was riding with him. Words didn't need to mess up the moment, or remind him that I was along for the ride. I was just awed to be there. 

He went in the store leaving me in the car as he got supplies. I didn't care. I didn't even ask to go in with him. I just waited until he would be back to fill the spaces emptied by his departure. 

I only truly knew him from a distance growing up. We existed in the same place, but I didn't know him. I guess that may sound sad to some but my Dad was busy. He was working. That was what he did. And, I never knew it could or even should be different. 

I knew, without a doubt, I was loved. But, there was a chasm that separated the silly baby from the strong, forthright man who was my father. 

I slept through my alarm somehow this morning. One too many snoozes. I can't even explain how I did it. I thought I counted each snooze when I told Google however many more minutes. But, when I grabbed my phone thinking it was 6am and saw it was 6:40am, I panicked. 

My whole morning was shot. 

So, tonight I decided MAYBE I needed backup. And, I set up an alarm on my cell phone for 5:50am just in case. 

I had the sound radar set. That didn't sound appealing at all. I touched the sound on the screen to choose another, and that is when I was transported back in time. 

In 2010 after the deaths of both of my parents I inherited their 2006 Jeep Liberty that they custom ordered to pull behind their motor home. It was immaculate. It only had around 24,000 miles on it. The interior was like brand new. AND....it got around 16mpg. My job had me on the road. Not a good combo.

I traded it in reluctantly for a 2010 Honda Crosstour. It was a beautiful car. My Dad would have liked it. When I picked it up after it was detailed I hooked up my cell phone and the first song I played was Domino by Van Morrison. 

Strange choice for the girl who really only listened to Christian music. But, I felt a pull.

A pull from a memory riding in the back seat of that Challenger with my Dad driving. A pull that could still hear his clear Tenor as he sang each word. The only time in my life I ever heard him sing. A pull toward the wonder I felt knowing this big, strong, smart man was my father. How protected I felt. How certain I felt that he loved me, even if he didn't know how to show it. 

My finger pressed Domino tonight, wondering how on earth it was sitting there as one of my alarm choices. And, once again I could feel that larger than life presence surround me. 

As his health failed I received the most wondrous gift. During our time shuttling back and forth to appointments here and there, I finally got to know my father. I got to hear his stories. Laugh with him, cry with him, and realize he was a man after all. That only made me love him more. 

Hey Mr. DJ
I just want to hear some rhythm and blues music
On the radio
On the radio
On the radio
Uh-uh, all right
Uh-uh, all right
Uh-uh, all right
Uh-uh
Hear the band
One more time

Sunday, June 7, 2020

Keep Knocking

He got me.....

He hit the proverbial nail on the head this morning.

Here I was, prepared to enjoy a wonderful sermon, gather some nuggets of wisdom to chew on later, and move on with my life.

Then, BOOM.

Hammer.....Nail......

And, I was suddenly reminded that He not only knows me, He loves me.

I have made some horrible mistakes. Really, I have. I don't deny them. I live with them every day. And, I do my best to trudge on in spite of my mistakes.

If you read back in my blog history, I am sure you will come across many of what my family lovingly call "Stupid Sheri Stories." Oh, my life is loaded with them. Most of them are hilarious. Even as they are happening I am thinking, "wait till they hear this one!"

But, there are some Stupid Sheri Stories I have only shared with the Lord. Some things that have happened to me are too much, too painful, too heartbreaking, and too much to let slip out of my lips to another person besides the one Who loves me most of all.

Recently I realized that something I thought I had long ago dealt with and buried was still there. It was festering within me, causing me pain. I was walking around my house, telling this proverbial person exactly what I thought of all that had happened when I knew it was not gone.

Everyone hurts. Everyone has pain that is below the surface of their perfect lives. Everyone. Some people become victims of that pain. They wrap it around them and use it as a jumping board for other areas of their lives that are not as they should be. Well, I'm this way because my parents divorced, or I am like this because of something that happened in childhood. And, they, as my Pastor so wisely said this morning, lock this person that caused them hurt in a prison of unforgiveness and then can never understand why they cannot move forward.

Only, this morning, I was that person with the key to the prison. And, it was time for me to open the door and let a couple of folks out.

There was an angel that came into the prison where Simon Peter laid, waiting for his execution in the morning. That angel told him to get up, put his shoes on and walk out. Those iron doors swung open and Peter walked right out the door.

Peter, who had done so many wonderful things. Peter, who preached to the multitudes on the Day of Pentecost. Peter, who was "the rock" as Jesus said. Peter, who denied the Lord. Peter who walked out on water then let fear grasp him and sank before the Lord, begging to be saved.

Peter. Imperfect Peter.

He walked out of the prison to the house of his friends who were all praying for him. And they wouldn't let him in.

But, he kept knocking.

He could have walked away in those early morning hours. But, he kept knocking.

The iron doors of the prison had just swung open, now a wooden door that kept him from his friends was closed to him.

So, he kept knocking.

God has done more for me than I could ever convey.

There was a time in my life that I was deeply afraid. I was terrified, to be exact. I had gotten myself in a horrible mess and I knew no way out, except to pray.

And, pray I did.

The miraculous things that followed that desperate prayer were nothing short of that iron prison door swinging open. He moved mountains to move me out of danger.

And, He has surely done more since. Things I know could only be Him.

So, recently after I have been praying something happened, that honestly is part of the answer to my praying, only I didn't see it that way. All I could see is those mistakes I have made and I felt defeated.

I was standing at that wooden door and I felt like there was no use for me to knock any longer. But, only for a moment. Then, I remembered the gate of iron and I knew I could do it.

But, first I had my own iron gates to open. I had to let go of the hurt of yesterday and those who had hurt me. I have no idea why I expected them to behave different than they did. I trusted them. And they hurt me. So, I have locked them away like inmates in my heart. But, they are free. It has been me that has been a prisoner.

Today. You are free. I am letting go of what you did. I know you are a slave to alcohol and the sins of the flesh. You were only serving your masters. I think you loved me as much as you were able. I can no longer carry the dead weight of you around with me. You didn't want me.  I'm letting you go.

Today I am letting you go. You are free. I will no longer carry around the hurt from the terrible things that happened while I tried to love you. You belong to a different world than I could ever understand. I cannot carry you around any longer. I am not responsible for you. I know you never loved me. You only used me. And, I have to let go of the fact that you made me feel like I was nothing. Because I am not nothing.

Today, I stand knocking on the door. The door to my own future. I have accepted many things about it. But, what I know right now is I am NOT in control of my future. I am trusting You to lead the way. I won't stop knocking until the door opens.

Thursday, April 9, 2020

Never Have I Ever

If you are reading this some time in the future, you will note by the date that we are in the throws of a very strange time for us.

Every 100 years, it seems, some major "thing" happens. That major thing happening right now is called COVID-19.

I am a healthcare worker, I am an RN. I have been for 25 years. I have seen times where we thought this was going to happen, but this is not a drill.

Everyday life as we know it has come to a halt. We are all practicing "social distancing" and buying up all of the toilet paper we can find because, you know, you may run out and can't leave the house. Or, whatever logic was used by everyone who bought it all up.

Schools are closed. Social activities have stopped. You cannot go eat at a restaurant. I can't make this up! It is happening live right now.

I could go major indepth here. Give you some Bible and maybe scare you into being "saved" at least until this is over. But, I'm not.

I want to say right now and have the future bear witness to this that "This too shall pass."

All of our current fears, all of the uncertainty, all of the sickness, the deaths, all of it, it will pass.

I'm not afraid of tomorrow. We have weathered many storms here on earth.

I listened to the news this morning. Various news snippets from various providers. One theme for them all...blame. Blame the CDC. Blame the producers of PPE. Blame the government. It was disgusting. All the finger pointing from main stream media gets ridiculous. Not once, not once did I hear any of them on any broadcast offer anything positive. And, if they have all the answers, why didn't the all powerful media do something besides the blame game.

I was raised by a newspaper man in the days when the press maybe had a little more integrity. I can remember him telling me when I went to work at the paper that I wasn't entitled to an opinion, I was only entitled to tell the facts.

haha THOSE days are gone.

Like any of us have the answers right now? Seriously. This is something none of us have experienced. You have turned this whole situation into an agenda and that is wrong. You should be helping us see life as it is. If I were your mother I would send you to your room.

Mainstream Media      You STINK.

Yours Truly,

Sheri

Friday, January 31, 2020

Who I Am

I wish I would remember more often to place my thoughts here. For a time, it was such a vital part of my life, but years have changed me in many ways, and I have allowed this to kind of slip from me.

I “accidentally” hit my blog in my bookmarks and I paused to read. And, I cried.

Wow. How much time has changed.

It is 2020. If that wasn’t amazing enough I am 53. AND a grandmother.

Several years ago I went through a horrible time. I lost my parents within 3 months of each other. To be honest, I feel like I lost myself there for a while.

My marriage suffered through that lost and before I knew it, I had allowed it to sift through my fingers like sand, tossing aside 26 years. And the circumstances had left me broken. Terribly damaged.

I made decisions at a time when I had no business deciding anything and it just got worse from there. BUT....

Here I am.

All this stuff happened. And then, something wonderful came out of it all.

ME.

For so many years I looked to others for my happiness. Finally, I’m happy with me, the ME that Jesus has made me.

I have such a rich life. So much love.

I was eating my supper tonight and my phone rang. It was my niece, Whitney’s number. I answered and said I was glad she called because I was going to call her.

Instead of Whit, I heard this sweet voice saying Hey Aunt Sherwee!

It was my GREAT niece, Chapel. We chatted about her life. And she told me her Daddy had bought her “Pirate cereal” aka Captain Crunch. She said they were tired and they were home now.

Did I mention she is 3?

Then I heard the voice of her Dad saying “Chapel, WHO are you talking to?”

She answered, “Aunt Sherwee!” Like, Duh.

Her Mama’s voice then piped in. She said they had just got back from grocery shopping and were unloading. They left Chapel in her car seat until they were done. It seems Chap has figured out how to use Siri to call people.

Imagine that.

Of all the people she knows love her, she called her Aunt Sherwee.

That’s when it really hit me.

Jesus, You have given me everything I ever prayed for. How could You possibly love me this much? I will never deserve it, but I am grateful. All those sad, pathetic blogs when I wanted what I had always dreamed of, and You delivered me from myself right into the dreams You dreamed for me. And they are so much better than anything I could have ever hoped for. Thank you, Lord for loving me THIS MUCH!