How to tell when it’s Real Love, and when it’s NOT. (Trigger alert)

I’m writing this at midnight.  For the second night in a row I’m having trouble getting to sleep.

Earlier in the week, I was reading on my Facebook newsfeed several reviews and comments about a certain book recently made into a movie. I haven’t read the books or seen the movie.  I really don’t want to, based on what I’ve read here, here, here, here and here. The recurring theme of these reviews was concern at the depiction of a manipulative, controlling and abusive relationship as romantic love.  I find myself feeling sick in the stomach, and memories are churning in my head from a part of my past that not even many of my close friends know much about.

I was a 20 year old undergraduate student.  He was several years older, doing a post graduate degree in the same department.  He was tall, dark, handsome, strong, charming and attractive.  about three months after we met, he asked me to marry him.  My gut reaction was “No! No! No!”.  He was not, however, willing to accept No for an answer.  It took him nine more months of persuasive manipulation and charm before I finally agreed to go out with him. 

I realised very quickly I had made a big mistake.  He didn’t physically abuse me, but from what I have learned since about the early warning signs of an abusive relationship, it would have only been a matter of time.   He very persuasively told me he loved me, but this was not love.  This was control on his part and fear on mine.

“There is no fear in love.” 1 John 4:18 (NIV)

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”  1 Corinthians 13:4-7 (NIV)

He was impatient and unkind.  He was jealous, arrogant, boastful.  He belittled me, was selfish, and frequently angry.  He blamed me for anything that didn’t go his way, and brought it back out to hold against me at other times.  He threatened me with violence and rape, at the same time told me I was unattractive and mocked me.

This was NOT love.

Even after I ended the relationship, he would still not take No for an answer.  For another year he alternated between being persuasive and charming, and begging me to take him back, to being intimidating and threatening.  It took intervention from the university authorities to convince him to stop talking to me. 

But it was not yet over.  I still saw him frequently around campus, and although he didn’t speak to me he looked at me threateningly.  I swallowed fear whenever I attended class.  On finding him on the same bus I would get off three stops past my street, and walk home via a very circuitous route so he wouldn’t find out where I lived. 

It took another six months before I could see him without feeling the fear.  I looked him in the eye, said hello, commented on the weather, then very firmly ended the conversation.  His power over me was finally broken, and the next time I saw him he turned away to avoid me.  I had won my freedom, but at an emotional cost over previous the two and a half years.  I experienced depression for several months, and  I did not complete my degree.

“Perfect love drives out fear” 1 John 4:18 (NIV).

I later learned what it was to be loved.  This weekend was our wedding anniversary.  18 years ago I married a man who was patient and kind, who wasn’t jealous or arrogant or proud.  He wasn’t rude or selfish or angry.  He was forgiving, caring, protecting and trusting.  This was Real Love.

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.” 1 Corinthians 13:13 (NIV)

P.S.  If you find that the relationship you are in shows the signs of power, control and possessiveness that are warning signs, or if you are in an abusive relationship, then please be very careful and stay safe.  I’ve read that the most dangerous time for a women in an abusive relationship is when she has decided to leave.  Sophie Elliot’s story is a tragic example of this.  Talk to someone you can trust.  Get help from an organisation like Women’s Refuge.  If you are in physical danger, contact the police (even if you have to pretend to be ordering pizza to do so).

Sitting Still

I was seventeen, and new to Faith.  We were on a youth group weekend, staying in a bach on the edge of a lake.

It was Saturday morning, early. The sun had just burned the mist off the lake, but was not yet hot.  I was sitting on the sill of an open window, one leg swinging over the veranda, Bible in my hand.  I wasn’t reading much, just enjoying the stillness. Another girl was sitting on the veranda a few metres away and the rest of the group was inside.  All was quiet.

A white dove flew from across the lake and landed on the veranda railing, within arms reach. The dove perched for several minutes, looking us each in the eye.  Neither of us moved, until the dove flew over to a nearby tree, then out of sight along the shoreline.

The above image is sketched from memory about two and a half decades after the event.  Any variances to actual avian anatomy are due to a deficiency of my drawing ability, not from mistaken identification of the species concerned.

It was a perfectly ordinary flesh and blood and feathers and beak kind of dove.  There were no visions, voices from heaven, sudden rushing wind or mysterious flames of fire.  Yet it was a profound moment that has stayed clearly in my memory for the two and a half decades since.

The memory of this moment came to mind when I was considering the “Deepening” I wrote about last month.  I wrote then: “I know this much: it is NOT found by trying harder or doing more or being better.”  My encounter with the dove reminds me of the following:

1. God’s presence is not something I conjure up through praying or meditating in the “right” way.   His presence is a gift of grace that can’t be earned. He comes to me in the same way the dove flew to me from across the lake without being summoned, not me coming to Him.
2. Having said that, sometimes you can only become aware of His presence already with you by stopping what you’re doing, not rushing being busy and noisy with work and family and socialising.  Those of the group inside talking or eating missed the experience (and were even somewhat sceptical when we described what had happened, even with the dove still visible on the nearby tree).
3. In my subsequent experience, sometimes the best response to finding oneself in God’s presence is to simply sit very still and very quietly.  Listen and observe without trying to influence or extend the moment.
4. Sometimes the significant moments of God can turn up when you least expect it and aren’t necessarily looking for it.  Treasure each moment as it comes, and don’t try to replicate it.  To quote the Professor at the end of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis: “You won’t get into Narnia again by that route. ... don’t go trying to use the same route twice.  Indeed, don’t try to get there at all.  It’ll happen when you’re not looking for it.”

What are some of the ways you’ve experienced God, and what did you learn from them?

Deepening

January is Summer Holiday time around here.  It’s apt, having the time to have a break away from routine with family, and also being able to take some time to reflect and ponder the year ahead.

I’ve realised my relationship with God is a bit like a family at a picnic.  The parents are watching the children play on the nearby playground while they sit and chat.  Every so often, a child will call out, and the parent will smile and wave back.  Or a child will run over to show some treasure they’ve found, or to ask for help with a toy, or for a reassuring cuddle after bumping their knee.  Once reassured, the child will run back to play again.

I’m like the child, and God the parent.  An occasional glance reassures me the He is still there in the vicinity, but most of the time He’s happy for me to carry on with what I’m doing without the need for direct contact. 

At the same picnic, the preteen is getting bored with the younger children’s games, and comes to sit near the grown-ups, listening to their conversation.  That’s somehow where I want to grow more towards.

To switch metaphors, it’s like I’ve been splashing in the shallows of my faith.  I’ve had occasional glimpses of what it would be like to swim into the deeper water (cool and clear and refreshing), and would like more of that.

I don’t know what this kind of deepening would look like, or how it would come about.  I know this much: it is NOT found by trying harder or doing more or being better.  In fact, I suspect there is nothing I can do with my own effort or by my own merit.

Any insights from anyone who’s been there would be appreciated!

Festival 200 Celebrations

As the member of a relatively small church (100-200 attendees), in a relatively small city, opportunities to worship as part of a larger crowd don't come by very often.   5000 attending a combined inter-church service may not seem that big to some of my overseas readers (I've heard there are some churches that get that number in a normal Sunday morning service), but around here it's something pretty special.

(All photos courtesy of Te Raranga, used with permission)

The occasion was Festival 200, hosted by Te Raranga earlier this month to celebrate 200 years since the first Christian worship service in New Zealand.  On Christmas Day 1814,  Rev Samuel Marsden, at the invitation of the chief, led divine service and preached from Luke 2:10 Behold, I bring you tidings of great joy.

By the 1850's more than 50% of Maori were Christian believers, with the message being spread primarily by the Tangata Whenua (people of the land). Many stories abound of missionaries arriving for the first time at a remote settlement, to find the local tribe were already believers and worshipping.

The organisers of this celebration had a challenging task bringing together different styles and traditions of Christian worship into one gathering, and in my opinion overall did an excellent job.

Young Lady and her two friends seemed a little hesitant at first, but relaxed as the service  progressed, and was dancing on her seat by the final music bracket.  (I wish I'd been able to capture the look on her face, but my phone at the time was being utilised by Young Lady as a torch/glow light for "Joy to the World").

A highlight was the singing  of our National Anthem.  We have an amazing and inspiring anthem, especially when all the versed are sung as a hymn and a prayer, sung by 5,000 from the  heart and with gusto:

E Ihowā Atua, O ngā iwi mātou rā Āta whakarangona; Me aroha noa Kia hua ko te pai; Kia tau tō atawhai; Manaakitia mai Aotearoa

English translation (Karetu) O Lord, God, of all people Listen to us, Cherish us May good flourish, May your blessings flow. Defend Aotearoa

(Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/God_Defend_New_Zealand)

God of Nations at Thy feet,
In the bonds of love we meet,
Hear our voices, we entreat,
God defend our free land.
Guard Pacific's triple star
From the shafts of strife and war,
Make her praises heard afar,
God defend New Zealand.

Men of every creed and race,
Gather here before Thy face,
Asking Thee to bless this place,
God defend our free land.
From dissension, envy, hate,
And corruption guard our state,
Make our country good and great,
God defend New Zealand.

Peace, not war, shall be our boast,
But, should foes assail our coast,
Make us then a mighty host,
God defend our free land.
Lord of battles in Thy might,
Put our enemies to flight,
Let our cause be just and right,
God defend New Zealand.

Let our love for Thee increase,
May Thy blessings never cease,
Give us plenty, give us peace,
God defend our free land.
From dishonour and from shame,
Guard our country's spotless name,
Crown her with immortal fame,
God defend New Zealand.

May our mountains ever be
Freedom's ramparts on the sea,
Make us faithful unto Thee,
God defend our free land.
Guide her in the nations' van,
Preaching love and truth to man,
Working out Thy glorious plan,
God defend New Zealand.

(Source: http://www.mch.govt.nz/nz-identity-heritage/national-anthems/god-defend-new-zealandaotearoa)

For more information about the history of Christianity in New Zealand, see http://hopeproject.co.nz/our-kiwi-heritage/#mg

Advent

This video says it perfectly.

Peace.  Be still.

Holy Ground (A Psalm of Christchurch)

Holy Ground
(C) Claudia Mcfie and Louise Edgecumbe, 2014

When the walls come crashing down
I'm left alone on shaking ground
You are here.
Your promise is unchanging
You're still here by my side
You are here.

In the clouds of your glory
This world falls behind me
You are here.

This is Holy Ground,  Holy Ground
Here on your presence.
This is Holy Ground,  Holy Ground
Here in your presence,
Holy Ground.

On my knees I'm crying out
My praying words are failing me
You are here.
You carry me through darkness
Holding me at all times
You are here.

In the clouds of your glory
This world falls behind me
You are here.

This is Holy Ground,  Holy Ground
Here on your presence.
This is Holy Ground,  Holy Ground
Here in your presence,
Holy Ground.

First performed at Westside Church, Christchurch 27 July 2014
This recording 15 October 2014.
Many thanks to:
Vocals: Hannah Powell, Claudia McFie, Jairus Robb
Keyboard: Hannah Powell
Guitar: Jairus Robb
Trumpet; Louise Edgecumbe
Bass: Amy Scott
Drums: Rebekah Wain
Recording and production: Mike Young

"A prayer sung is a prayer prayed twice." (St Augustine, my paraphrase)

It's been a battle against discouragement to get to this point, with lots of bouts of “Not good enough”s.  In February, near the anniversary of the 2011 earthquake, I was writing a poem of my prayer, a "Psalm" of my journey through the last few years through post disaster trauma. Reflecting that when I was not able to pray, to "feel" God's presence, there remained a certainty within me that He was there, and bringing me through this time. 

As I reflect on His presence, I've become aware that even in the worst moments, when I was running for my life as building and masonry  crashed to the ground around me, He was there.

As I praise and worship in the Now, the memories of That Moment become part of this worship.  Somehow at the same time His presence reaches back into past and redeems the source of the pain, making that very moment when the world was lurching beneath my feet a Holy place.

Like the scene in Shadowlands when Joy tells Jack “the pain then is part of the happiness now” and vica versa.

It doesn't matter what you're circumstances are, what you're facing, even in the worst of  all times: Right here, right now, in this time and this place, God is here. This is Holy Ground.

Good Enough

“Nice try,” the thought whispers in my mind, “but not really good enough.”

Actually, I’ve put my all into this, and surely “Good Enough” isn’t too much to aim for?

Hold on, that thought isn’t true… too late, my emotions have already kicked in and my body has reacted to them.  There’s a sort of hollow feeling in my stomach, my throat feels tight, and pressure behind my eyes suggest weepiness. 

Images flash through my mind.  Some are memories, others are “what if”s of worse case scenarios.

But it’s NOT TRUE, I tell myself.  I am a “good enough” wife/mother/friend/employee/worshipper.  No-one has actually said anything to imply that I’m not “good enough,” yet there’s a striving with me to work harder, try better, because I don’t want to “fail”.

Remember, I don’t have to DO anything to earn God’s love.  Or my husband/children/friend’s love.

Thoughts like “not good enough” wind around our minds like some kind of vine or creeper, trapping us inside, choking us from trying.

Jesus used entangling thorns as a metaphor for “the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth” that “choke [the word] making it unfruitful.” (Matthew 13:24, NIV). 

We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. (2 Corinthians 10:5, NIV)

I used to think this verse was talking about the thoughts that tempt us to sin.  But now I’m starting to realise it also relates to those thoughts that would hold us back from being and doing what God is calling us to. 

These thoughts don’t like being “taken captive”.  In the last month or so as I’ve been unravelling this basket, they’ve been getting louder and more frequent.  But I know them for what they are – discouraging lies.

Time to do some weeding.