Distrust in the character of God

 I have been reflecting a lot on my own shortcomings as a person. Andy has mentioned for me several times how my 'character' is bad and it has me reflecting on what character truly is. 

The quality of our character is found in times of difficulty, I believe. Character is who you are when no one is watching.

We tend to care so much about what people think and about appearances. We value, to some degree, fakeness. That is not who I am. I believe I am generally and open and transparent person. I have some character flaws, but I have integrity and good morals. 

In the Army we have 'character' building programs. An interesting name for the youth programs. I grew up through all of those character building programs. I think it helped to make me a better person.

In thinking about character I come a lot to honesty. Andy thinks I am a dishonest person and I do not know why. I have been honest with him about many things. He has created a narrative that is different from my experience of us together and cannot allow me to discuss the discrepancies with the narrative he has re-constructed. He thinks I need to defend myself or something. I am defenseless. There is nothing left for me to lose with him at this point as our marriage is ending, but he cannot accept my being honest with him. I do not know why and I will probably never have answers. He is closed off to any kind of connection from me. I think he is trying to survive in his own way and does not see how incredibly wounded we both are.

In some notes that I have I found this phrase: 'sin begins with the distrust of the CHARACTER of God.' This leads to unbelief and withdraw (fear, protect, escape, hide), ungodliness and then wickedness (not trusting His goodness). Lack of trust is what kept the Israelites out of the Promised Land.

Disobedience, then, is the secondary behavioral result. 

Trust= obedience

Distrust= disobedience

As I ponder this and the sin in my own life, I believe it began with the distrust of the character of God. But how? Why? Too many distractions, too little faith....lack of a community of support of believers? Issues with my character?

And now I am left with the broken pieces of sin. Sin always causes chaos. I am living in this pain as a result of sin in our marriage--on both parts. I believe we got to this point together. The character of our marriage was flawed only we did not know it.

I had a vision where I was holding a coffee mug and trying to keep it from falling out of my hand. Andy was watching me but did not care enough to help. The mug finally fell and broke into several little pieces. I was on my hands and knees trying to clean it up as Andy looked down at me on the floor. I looked up at him and he stepped on my hand and on the glass.

Today I trust in God and in His character. God's character is a vast topic and I am going to reflect on it more. 

 

2020 in review

  Oh, 2020. If I could have predicted what you would mean for me in my life I think I would have skipped you. Ha. 

The truth is, this year was necessary for me. Extremely painful in so many ways, but necessary. And I have hope for the future. It will look drastically different than what I thought at the beginning of the year, but let's just chalk that up to 2020.

I have become aware of sin in my life. In my many imperfections. In my honesty as a human being and in the fact that my marriage--to a man I deeply love--is regrettably coming to an end--a shocking end for me--while my husband says it has been a long time coming. I just did not know. Why?

Our covenant. We have both broken it in different ways. Our dreams and hopes for the future will look differently moving forward. My Andy....gone. Even on the most difficult days of loneliness and disengagement I have loved being his wife and have tried to love and serve him well and have never wanted to cause him any pain. I still do not want to cause him pain. I love him. Husbands--cherish your wives. They need you. Wives--communicate with your husbands in a way that both are uplifted and able to comprehend.

I had no idea this is what 2020 would have in store for me. For us. For my family. For the world. 

Shortly before Christmas last year, Andy told me that our marriage was loveless but loyal. Ouch. I did not feel the same way. So we eventually embarked upon counseling and looking introspectively at ourselves. He had been emotionally distant for a considerable amount of time and when I tried to discuss it he would brush me off. The timing just was never right to really have a deep conversation and so I tended to the boys, mainly alone,  and to the Army and carried on with life. I did not realize that we were both hurting so deeply inside. We had no space and privacy as a family living on a compound with other officers and clients and the distance between us grew. My loneliness grew and I felt like I was living in a cage at home and felt unsafe. So did Andy in his own way. 

I asked for pastoral counsel from our leadership and confided in a few, but every one of those relationships transitioned as Covid came and the entire leadership of our Command changed in a few months and friends went on sick leave...and we were...still there...alone and struggling. So I confided in a family in Italy and my Italian 'mamma.' They became my greatest champions and still are today. They know me and love me anyway. They are a gift. 

My husband left me and did so dramatically making a unilateral decision with The Salvation Army in mid-August. He told me in a meeting with our Command Leader in his office and, less than two weeks later, I was forced to uproot life and move 5,000 miles to a city where I am extremely isolated and alone. Loss of identity in so many ways. Loss of my husband. Loss of a ministry I felt fulfilled in. Loss of relationships. Loss of love and support. And, one of the worst pains for me, the loss of my in-laws whom I love and miss so deeply words cannot express. 

Lots of pain, heartbreak and trauma abounds. Andy was...is...gone. So are his parents. I grieve that so much and will for a long time. My love. My sweetheart. 

No one should feel sorry for me and I am not asking that. In fact, no one reads this anyway, but I need to process some of my trauma and some of what the Lord is revealing to me.

The only thing guaranteed in life besides death is the steadfast love of the Lord. This year has taught me that I am a person, not property, and am worthy of love. God's love for me is faithful and true. In searching the scripture these few months in isolation in Atlanta I am convinced of this more so now than ever before. God is faithful. He is my refuge. My savior. 

I am convinced of my calling to the mission of the Army as an overseas officer, more now than ever. But it will look differently moving forward. I am processing what that looks like and am trusting God to be faithful. My faith is strong and this priority of perspective has been re-aligned for me. I pray for its leaders and the burden of responsibility they carry to make decisions as they are often overworked and exhausted. I pray for the future of the Army and realize that it does not need me nor I it. All will survive.

This year has also revealed to me how I disassociate from pain and deny the reality of things. In fact, I did not realize this until a group of men showed up to our home in Rome to pack it and I could not stay in the house for more than five minutes. I had to run away and did so to my office where I worked. That was not healthy. I was trying to survive and did so the only way I knew how in that moment--with my uniform on working for the mission and believing that was the right decision. Meanwhile my husband was directing our house to be packed and prepared to go to two separate homes across the ocean.

My commitment to my children is a priority. It always has been as I know I am a good mother, but my personal needs and desires come second to theirs. Andy wanted to take the boys to the US without me. Part of me died inside when he told me this and when our Colonel recorded this in his notes for the meeting when Andy told me he was leaving me and returning to the US. That pain, and a few situations that followed, have left open wounds in my soul that I am struggling reconcile and am prayerful that, with time and wise counsel, will begin to heal. I wanted to remain in Italy as a family of four and work on issues. That was not an option for me as decisions were made on my and the children's behalf without my input. 

Family is important and should not be neglected. I love my family. I grieve that I am a 12 hour car ride from them during a worldwide pandemic and long for human touch and an adult hug from someone who loves me. It has not happened in Atlanta, regrettably.

I have learned that there are many superficial relationships in Christian ministry and I do not think this was God's intention. I have realized that many do not have the emotional or spiritual band-with to help carry the load of some heavy things. I have asked for spiritual help from those I trust spiritually and people have not been able to provide it for the most part. This has been extremely disappointing to me. Pastoral care for our wounded needs to be a priority. 

There have been a few times in my life when I have felt a strong connection to God. These times have usually been in contemplative prayer, reading scripture, or with performing music. These are the times when I have received direction from God and have obeyed and it has not always been easy. Striving for a life of holiness while journeying with God is not easy. It is not always fun and it doesn't not always smell sweet. Sometimes it stinks. Badly. But we grow, learn, digest, re-plant, cultivate and move on. We do this with or without distraction. I am learning that the 'doing' for God became a distraction for me that was not holy.

In a prayer night vigil in our chapel in Rome on the last Friday of May I had an intimate time with God and felt him revealing some things to me that were earth shattering. He revealed that I needed to be willing to sacrifice my marriage. What? How does that line up with scripture? It did not make sense. And so I processed that for the next couple of months thinking I was crazy and mis-hearing from God.

I was also processing how devalued I have felt as a married woman officer, particularly in the heavily male dominated structure in Italy and how unjust this was for other women officers and how, it too, was impacting my marriage in a negative way. Andy is not the enemy--just a son of the regiment and a by-product of its system.

The night before I was called to a meeting in our Command Leaders office when they told me Andy was leaving me and all of this was happening, I spent time on our roof pouring my heart out to God as I attempted to sing and worship through my many tears. Andy was out of the house and I was alone on the roof under the stars and had what became a beautiful evening. I received confirmation that everything would be okay and was reminded of some of the promises of scripture. I slept peacefully that evening.

The next day would change the course of my life forever. I am thankful for that evening under the stars on our roof in Rome. This is the same roof where we had our weekly marital counseling sessions over Zoom for the Covid lockdown months.

When I look at the trajectory of my life I see that God exists and that He is faithful. He has everything under control. My old Sunday School teacher reminded me recently that 'we are the dumb ones who do not know the plan' (thank you, Viejo). My ailing grandfather reminded me that life is silly.

My best friend reminds me daily that I am worthy of love and that I do not need to feel guilty about being my own person. God created me and while He is deeply refining me, He has created me to be a loving person. And that person is beautiful.

The pain of my soul is deep. My older brother reminds me to keep things in perspective. My sister reminds me that we should spoil ourselves every now and again. My brother Luke protects me with vigor. Other friendships of the past--which I have regrettably neglected for the last 13 years--have reminded me that there are people who love and care for me, even if they live far away. A retiring officer recounted for me her divorce experience when her children were young and how she left her officership for fifteen years, but that God is faithful in the end. A married woman officer has recounted to me her dissatisfaction in her marriage and her fear to speak up about it as she hides from the world on attempting to keep it all together....and I know that I am not alone. 

I am wounded, but not dead. Hope is on the horizon. And I am looking forward to 2021. 

Reflections

 Today our cadets are signing their covenants. This very special, holy day for them has me reflecting over the past eleven years and the journey it has been. I remember how sacred and special our covenant day was in New York, and part of me grieves that our cadets, while their experience today is special, has not been given the same thought, care, effort, and intention.

Sometimes I get it right.

Many times I get it wrong. Really wrong.

Right now I am struggling--perhaps more than I ever have--but I am not giving up hope that the God who sees me loves me. This I hold onto. Covenant. And I am very thankful.

I know God is real and He is active. I know He is revealing in me things about myself that are not surrendered and that are painful. I have some inner work to do.

Holiness is a choice. It is a choice one must choose every day as they journey on in relationship with God. When we neglect our own personal spiritual care, for whatever reason (I am great at justifying my lack of discipline), Satan can take root in our hearts. He knows are weaknesses and always goes for the jugular. What a creep.

Today I prayed for and encouraged the cadets with a verse from Galatians 2:20: "Sono stato crocifisso cone Cristo: non sono più io che vivo, ma Cristo vive in me! La vita che viva ora nella carne, la vivo nella fede nel Figlio di Dio il quale mi ha amato e ha dato se stesso per me."

May this be true in my life today and every day. A choice. Daily.

"Benjamin's transformers and also real screens"

(Benjamin is dictating a blog entry to me, as he cannot be outdone by his brother, www.elijahseilerblog.blogspot.com. P.S. Having decent internet after a couple of months is really nice :) )

"Screens can hurt your head if you watch them too much. Transformers can transform into modes. Ultimate transformers are my favorite because there are all different kinds. Thank you for reading my blog."

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We are currently sitting out on our terrace where I believe the summer heat has broken (high for today is 86F). We are very much looking forward to fall for several reasons--routine, SCHOOL and cooler weather. The boys begin school on September 16th. The corps schedule is chopped up throughout the week with several activities in the later evenings, which keeps me from putting the boys to bed. Andy's office schedule is the same every day. We are adjusting to two our different appointments with different roles. This is the first time we are not working "together" and it feels weird, but we believe God-ordained.

Overall, we are doing well. Some days are discouraging (like yesterday when I got ripped off at the market and didn't have enough language to fix the situation as I also had a four year old having a tantrum after being taunted by his older brother), but then God encourages me in a myriad of ways.

One of my favorite memories so far is from earlier this week when I did a very American thing: cleaned the outside of the chapel bulletin board while blasting Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir. The boys played in the chapel and Benjamin danced on the street in his blue Power Ranger costume which attracted attention and kind conversation.

We had Banco Alimentare (food pantry) earlier this week and I got to help take groceries to a shut-in in the neighborhood. I loved being in her home and chatting with her for a few minutes.

Families on the playground in our neighborhood are beginning to notice us when we come to play. Earlier this week I had an excellent pastoral visit and prayer with a corps member while the boys played independently for about an hour on the playground. The playground may end up being my office since I do not have a designated one (which I kind of like--our role isn't to sit behind desks as corps officers, anyway).

People are beginning to recognize the lady in the uniform always with the two boys trailing behind or running in front.

Life is beginning to unfold and "transform."

On ten years as a Salvation Army officer

Ten years ago on 14 June 2009 I was commissioned as a Lieutenant in The Salvation Army and ordained as a minister of the Gospel in New York in front of family, friends, and comrades.

Called by God and compelled by the Holy Spirit to make a radical commitment to serving humanity in love.

Striving for holiness.

Ten years.

Six appointments.

A marriage. With two children.

Countless trials but boundless joys.

Many mistakes.

Maturing.

Journeying through life with beautiful people.

Tears shed.

Victories won.

Active relationship with Jesus.

Learning, growing, pursuing the Holy Spirit's presence in my life. Every day.


I get to wake up every day and do what I love. This is who God made me to be. I'm grateful. I'm a Salvation Army officer.

#onwemarch

From refugee to refuge

Someone has said that the Bible calls for compassion, salvation and equality. Due to our own closely held worldview we may be tempted to misinterpret scripture to assuage our own guilt and fear--or justify our actions-- which can lack compassion, the gift of salvation or encourage division and breed inequality.

Refugees are one of those issues for the world right now. Refugees exist throughout the pages of the Bible. I think firstly of Abraham and then the subsequent others who come along after him--Hagar, Jacob's sons, Moses, the Israelites...Jesus.

Matthew 25:34-30 talks about how we should treat refugees.

Personally, I strive to live out this scripture and have committed my life and literal vocation to doing just that but I know at times I fall short. I don't want to be apathetic to anything that is close to the heart of God and have no interest in being detached from the struggle, pain and suffering that many of our fellow humans live. In other words, I don't want to be another cog in the machine and a part of the problem. I believe in a God who is the solution and want to be a bringer of that news of everlasting hope.

But being comfortable is so nice--especially as a "righteous" person. We do a lot of good--the "most good." And it can be complacent every now and again.

And this is where I--perhaps we--go wrong. We cannot be truly "comfortable" when the least of these is not. And they are not. Some here in our own streets in Roanoke, in our programs, and some around the world. LORD, I don't want to just be another do gooder. I want to live out what I fervently attempt to preach and teach.

The most interaction I have personally with international refugees is during Christmastime as our Angel Tree program provides new toys, coats and clothes. I am always humbled by the resiliency and fervor for life these warriors possess.

Spending a couple of weeks in Europe allowed me to see this international refugee crisis issue up close and personal and it was convicting, awkward and uncomfortable. We saw firsthand the struggle and the pain for some refugees.

In a remote part of Italy we learned how refugees are cared for and attempt to integrate into the community.

In another city we were stuck on an overly crowded bus where a verbal altercation turned physical altercation broke out between a refugee and an Italian man. The tension was more than palpable as the overly crowded bus of co-conspirators were bystanders and participants as the situation rolled on off the bus. I prayed for compassion in those moments and my heart felt sick for the entire situation.

And then we saw it in another city. And another. And then we came home.

Here Andy and I were, on holiday as Americans, witnessing and experiencing things as we blended in like everyone else who does not see or chooses not to see what is around them and can do so based on unearned privilege. It felt shameful to me.

And then I turn left on the Elm Avenue exit from the interstate every day to see men panhandling and they are, in a way, refugees. Sometimes I make eye contact, which encourages an active attempt at solicitation when really all I want is to acknowledge their humanity and fulfill my desire for connection with their daily struggle from a safe distance. And then I say a quick pray for them as I hit the gas pedal, of course.

They have no sense of safety or belonging. Everyone feels better if we don't see them or have to interact with them. We-the people of God--ignore them. Sometimes we may try to help, and do help, but we are still in control of it. We still have safety and belonging and they do not.

I believe that striving for biblical justice calls us to be willing to risk our own sense of belonging and, at times, our safety. Imagine how different things would be if we asked the refugees in our sphere of influence what they felt they needed rather than what we think they need. What if we listened rather than spoke? Would our practice to the least of these be different? I'm a relationship person so I'd like to think there would be more time spent on building lasting relationships and less time on giving/doing stuff. You know, kind of like our relationship with Jesus.

What if we built a refuge with the refugees rather than brought a refuge to them? What if we lived out compassion, salvation, and equality to the least of these?

The holy discontent of an uncomfortable stomach bug

The beauty of entering into a beautiful home that has been freshly painted, while we've been basking in God's creation and studying God's Word this past week was only heightened as we all got to lay down and sleep peacefully in our comfortable, familiar beds. Ahhh...the simple things of a beautiful life. Thank you, LORD. I am grateful.

Andy and I prayed together before bed, as is our custom, that today would be a day of Spirit-filled worship with our corps people and that we would get to witness new people come to a salvation experience (which has been happening most Sundays and it is AWESOME). We prayed that the Spirit would come and sit heavily and make us all uncomfortable. I fell asleep so excited to worship with our corps people today and woke up that way, too.

And then Benjamin didn't wake up at his normal time. I thought he was just tired from the busyness of this past week and so I let him rest and did the rest of the morning routine. Andy left extra early today as being away from the office all week had him just wanting to get there. Elijah was dressed, fed and happily playing while waiting to leave for church.

When at the last possible minute Benjamin was still was not awake I went in to wake him and get him dressed. As I picked him up from his slumber (by the way, I am usually VERY strict about not waking sleeping babies!--but I really wanted to be at the corps in time to prayer walk our neighborhood!), he made a quiet moan and then vomited all over my uniform and himself. That rich bile color and smell... not what I was planning for this morning!

Naturally I became quite concerned as now the "Bible Conference bug" has made its way into our house through our most vulnerable member. Being quite candid, I'm disappointed that I will not be at the corps because I know God is going to do something good with our people and I want to be with them. Today is also the day of our monthly soldier's meeting which means I'll miss that and all of the covered dishes that go along with it. I really love our new corps people and value the time we have to live in community with them. I don't want to miss out! They bless me!

So here I sit. Thankful for personal time to worship and to listen. I'm reminded of Colonel Janet Munn's words this week at Bible Conference as she spoke about Luke 13 and the "disrupting faith" of the bent over woman whom Jesus healed on the Sabbath. Jesus challenged the oppressive status quo and made everyone uncomfortable. In my personal experience of the mighty moving of the Spirit, it can be uncomfortable. Rather than exist in the tension of the discomfort we oftentimes squelch the Spirit and move on with our formulaic worship wondering why we have the same results or no results. I think we do this in our personal time with God, too. Naturally we don't like feeling uncomfortable. We like routine and predictability but perhaps God has other things in store so that we totally depend on Him.

Colonel Munn asked of us, "what gets us bent out of shape and disrupts our faith?" While this question can go two ways, I suggest that the discomfort of a stomach bug has disrupted my faith this morning in a positive way. I will rejoice in it and use this time wisely as it is a special, unexpected gift outside of my Sunday morning norm. Thank you, LORD. Thank you for the holy discontent brought to my heart this morning from a stomach bug.