Sweet Release

Let me tell you what sweet release means to me.

Several years ago, my wife had an operation on her foot that left her nearly helpless for weeks. Unable to walk, there was little she could do but lie down, bear agonizing pain, and hope for some relief when she took pain meds.

I got the call a few days after her surgery. All I could hear as I picked up the phone was “Anthony, I need you!”.  I raced home to find her in excruciating pain, and with eyelids swollen. Her throat was starting to swell. The pain medication had triggered an allergic reaction.

We raced to the ER, as much as you can race with someone who cannot walk, in pain almost too great to talk.

I have never felt quite as powerless as I did that day. Powerless to provide comfort, powerless to provide relief, powerless to fix anything. As she laid in the ER bed, eyes closed due to the pain, the doctor injected her with something that must have been from heaven.

The look that came across her face is burned into my memory. Sweet release, played out right before my eyes.

That’s what sweet release means to me.  The memory of that day, the day I was powerless to help. The day I watched my wife go from unbearable pain to sweet, peaceful rest in a matter of seconds.

Quieting The Storm

The days leading up to our ER visit had been like a quiet storm. Constant pain, broken sleep, more pain. A storm of discomfort and anxiety. By the time we reached the ER, it felt like a tornado.

Jesus said it’s not those who are well that need a doctor, but those who are sick.

Maybe you’ve got enough money that you can ignore the deep, inner pain that so many people deal with their whole lives. Maybe you don’t know any people who’s lives are a wreck. Maybe you never see pain.

But for many of us, people like me, we’ve reached a point where we are not among the well. We count ourselves among the sick, the broken, the hopeless.

For 30 years of my life, I wrestled with so many deeply rooted issues of significance, worthiness, fear, and at times depression. No amount of money, or friends could hide the fact that something was wrong.

The picture of how I felt inside would look much like Lori’s face right before the medication hit. A tired, worn-out soul, a heart bruised and covered with scar tissue, too hurt to know that there was anything better.

..from the grip of these chains

One day, my first set of chains broke off. They were the chains I had been using to convince myself that nobody cared about what I had to say. Chains around my own self-worth.

And when they broke off, I broke down. I don’t know which was stronger, the grip the chains had on me, or the grip I had on those chains. But the feeling I experienced as they dropped was like nothing else I had ever been through.

That day, the storm inside quieted for the first time I could remember. I felt like I could breath for the first time. A millstone had been lifted from around my neck.

And when I looked up, I saw a God that had not been putting his foot on my neck to keep me down. Rather, he had been waiting, all those years, to take my pain, my heartache, my chains.

Waiting for me to walk by his side, released from false obligation, unbearable expectation, fear of failure, and the constant fear of abandonment.

That’s why when I hear the words of this chorus, the words come from a place inside so deep, that the tears often prevent me from singing.

But we were created to love, endure wounds, and to be healed.  Not to build up scar tissue around the part of us that most resembles our creator.

My Baby

Yesterday, my 11 month old baby boy pulled a wooden stool down on top of his head as he fell backwards onto our hardwood floors. I ran upstairs to find him in my wife’s arms crying.

Then he stopped. His little head rested against her chest, and those normally sparkling eyes slowly closed.  And my heart nearly stopped as my wife cried out “Why isn’t he crying?”

In that moment, I felt an indescribable fear, a prelude to the pain that would certainly follow if those eyes did not open again.

40 minutes late, as we left the ER, it was very clear that he was fine. But I was not.

Several month into our journey as parents, I laid awake at night, staring at the ceiling, feeling an anxiety similar to what a skydiver must feel before leaping from a plane.  It’s the anxiety you feel knowing that you’re engaging in something you love, but knowing that you’re also exposing yourself to the very real danger of being hurt.

Having a son has uncovered some very tender parts of my heart.  There are times when I hold him that I feel my chest might burst with happiness.  It’s more powerful than how I felt when I got married.

That’s because my heart was not always so free to love recklessly.

Scar Tissue

As a teenager, I was a drama king, and had no idea what depression was. I went through numerous emotionally taxing relationships. Upon graduating college, I quickly experienced another gut wrenching disappointment, and began to build up my defenses. Protecting myself from getting hurt again.

By the time I reached 26, my heart was so callous I could barely feel any emotions resembling the love that had allowed me to get so scarred. Then I met the woman I knew would become my wife.

My heart slowly began to thaw as I approached my wedding day. I wrote a song to propose to her, and as I wrote it, I spent more than an hour in tears, as I felt the flow of emotion that had long been absent.

As I played it for her, more tears flowed.  Tears that she didn’t fully understand, and that I am only now starting to understand myself. There were several times over the next year where my heart seemed to melt a bit more.

By the time my son was born, my heart seemed free of the callous scar tissue that had once protected me from getting hurt.  And the emotions flowed freely.  It has been wonderful.

But as I lie awake staring at the ceiling, I considered the possibility that I could lose both of them. A small voice told me that unless  I kept myself from loving too much, I would certainly be hurt so deeply by that situation, I could not fathom the pain that would follow.

Think deeply about that. I was scared of loving my wife and son too much because of how bad it would hurt if I lost them.

It’s the same feeling that caused me to begin building up scar tissue around the hurt areas following my stream of hurtful relationships. An effort to protect myself from future wounds.

But what I didn’t realize then was that scar tissue prevents as much as it protects. To experience love requires sensitivity, and scar tissue that protects you from hurt, also prevents you from feeling, even when you want to.

That night, I realized something profound.

If the worst happened, if I lost those that I loved so much, my biggest regret would be that I didn’t get  and express as much love as I could possibly could while I had the chance.

The Point Of No Return

The little scare with our son reminded me of that truth.  I am in this too deep to back up. I am hopelessly in love with my wife and my son. If something happens to them, I am without a backup plan. I am vulnerable because I love them.

I was created to love them recklessly, without restraint, and without anything protecting me from hurt.  I was also created to carry inside me the one who can heal any wound, and the one who pours out the love that flows through me as I love them.

Living a safe life by restraining our love is not living. It’s survival. We were not created to simply survive, we were created to live. To love. To hurt. And to heal.  So if you’ve been protecting your heart because you’ve been hurt, consider taking your foot off the brake, give Jesus the drivers seat, and love like you were created to do.

There would be other times when she would ask a question, and for whatever reason I didn’t understand what she was asking. But instead of simply asking her to repeat it, my response to her seemed to say "What is wrong with you, why can’t you explain this?". Part of this stemmed from my frustration about not being able to understand what she’d be saying. Nevertheless, it is something I had to learn to stop doing because of how it affected her, but still,I did not understand why.

Then one day, in a split second, I had a revelation that rocked my world. The Holy Spirit showed me a vision of my wife as a little girl, growing up, completing high school, going to college, getting 3 degrees. Graduating with a Ph.D, doing awesome research, being confident in her abilities. Taking care of herself, and doing fine.

The he showed me her beginning to doubt herself. All of a sudden she’s not so sure she knows what she’s doing anymore. Even basic things like paying bills, and banking etc… She begins to wonder if she’s not that intelligent, and that causes her to second guess everything she does.

Now comes the fun part. At that moment, the Holy Spirit revealed to me that this is what my words were doing to Lori. A strong woman who had been doing just fine on her own, now in marriage beginning to doubt herself because of the way I treated her.

My heart was broken, but not from guilt, or shame. It was broken for her sake. I felt God speak to me and say

"How dare you speak to her in such a way, someone that I love so much."

This was not condemnation, it was correction. And I needed it. Lori needed my support, not my correction. She needed someone to praise her, not look at her with frustration. It broke my heart to think that someone who used to be confident in herself, would look inward and think "Maybe I don’t really know what I’m doing", because of something I said.

When we begin to understand how much God loves us, and we stop being so hard on ourselves, our hearts become soft enough to realize how much we’ve hurt other people. Things we couldn’t see before because we were afraid to look. This experience was painful, but I was ready to face it because I knew that God would not abandon me for having done something so hurtful. That’s a wonderful place to be.

The Show Must Go On

This old saying is traditionally used in the context of show biz.  Feeling sick?  The show must go on.  In a bad mood? The show must go on.  I believe that in some twisted way, many Christians in high-profile positions of ministry have come to believe that this is true of their ministry.  Kids out fornicating?  The show must go on. Marriage troubles? The show must go on.  Burning out?  The show must go on.

I believe that the root of this feeling comes from a belief that God cares more about the ministry, than He does about a healthy family.  The thousands of people I preach to are more important to God than the 5 people in my own house.  Maybe there’s even a feeling that God will just magically work out everything at home because being involved in this ministry is so doggone important that he couldn’t possibly expect me to take time off to deal with it.

Is it possible, just maybe,. that when we’re going through a crisis at home God would understand if we lay down the ministry for as long as it takes to heal those areas?

If I don’t do it, nobody will

This is another poisonous attitude that plages many Christian’s in ministry.  I know first-hand how this belief can grip you and make it impossible to tear away from what you believe God has you on this earth to do.  Besides being unbiblical, this is also prideful.  Somehow, in all his infinite power, God is incapable of reaching the people I reach, through anyone else.  The danger is, if we really believe this lie, taking time off to deal with our most important ministry ( family ), will be weighed against a false weight of people that won’t be reached if we stop.

What about the people?

The truth is, anytime we are active in ministry, there are people in our immediate sphere of influence.  If we stop right now, some of those people will not be reached tomorrow, next week, or maybe next year.  But it’s a lie from the devil himself that those people need me to save them.  God loves every one of the people I minister too.  But they are HIS people.  Not mine.

The belief that God needs me to reach this person and this person is classic role reversal.  The truth is, I am the one who needs him.  So often it seems that people in ministry hope that his grace extends backwards into their households, which they are ignoring.  Why can’t that same grace keep everyone else, while I deal with my family? 

Too Little, Too Late

Very often, by the time we hear about problems, it’s too late for the person in question.  I’m trying to remember a single case where someone in public ministry stepped back from the public eye for a while, and then had their marriage fall apart within the next year.  Most often I remember stories of people going through divorce, then having to step back from ministry.

Stepping back from ministry after the storm has done its damage is no way to live life.  Maintaining a balanced life that has correct priorities is the best way.  Stepping away from that which is less important to deal with family when problems start, is also wise.  But this attitude that the show must go on, no matter what’s happening at home is nothing  but deception.

Allow me to tell how I really feel about this situation.  Parents push their kids towards a "career" while they are still kids.  This forces the kids to deal with adult like situations much before they know how to handle it.  They constantly wonder if they’d be "good enough" for their parents if they weren’t a "star".  Is it any wonder that so many kids that get involved in show business turn out so screwed up?

And yet, the tragedy of this situation according to CNN is that her precious career could be affected by this situation?  Give me a break.

The real tragedy is that this baby will be born into a family that puts their kids into show business instead of allowing them to be kids.