The Great Butcher of My Heart

Have you ever seen a butcher tenderize meat?

Does it ever feel like this is what God has been doing to your heart?  In a much gentler way of course, and without the metal spikes piecing your heart or the bloodied apron! 

OK, not the most loving picture I know, but I can’t seem to get this imagery out of my head as I have been thinking about Christmas and God’s divine hand as He has tenderized and readied for my heart for Jesus. 

The first time I truly met and understood Jesus went something like this…

I was a sophomore at Iowa State University (Go State!), a marketing major, and member of Alpha Gamma Delta sorority and living the college dream.  I had just finished up my freshmen year, in epic proportion, drinking my way through the year one (sorry Mom, this is painfully true) and really didn’t have a care in the world.  Life was good in my mind. 

Yet as I came into my second year, I know subconsciously I was searching for more, and found myself joining the Bible study in sorority.  It was here that I met Carolyn, our Bible study leader.  She was a sweet lady in her 50’s, always with a smile on her face and the kind of lady you want to give a hug to every time you see her. 

For the rest of the year I attended this Bible study, even meeting occasionally with Carolyn, probing her with the questions I had.  She was always so gracious and patient with me, and at the end of the year encouraged me to attend a Greek Christian conference in Indianapolis. 

I went with no expectations but left forever changed.  Within minutes of the first worship set, as I was singing the song, Here I am to Worship, the tears began to flow and didn’t seem to stop.  Eventually the worship songs ended and we were directed to our small group, which included 5 other of my sorority sisters.  At this point the tears were still flowing and I didn’t even care how ridiculous I looked because I knew what God was doing in me was deeper and more real than anything I have ever experienced. 

I knew after that moment I would never be the same and nothing would ever look the same. 

God was showing ME who Jesus was to ME.  I had heard it a hundred times before, Jesus came and died for you, a brutal death on a cross so that I might have life, eternal life and live this life abundantly.

Yet, this time it was different.  I felt conviction of my sin, the drinking, the stuff with boys, the lies, the way I judged people, and putting everything above Him, all of it big and small. 

He brought me to my knees, in a puddle of tears, and for the first time it became personal. 

He became personal.

His death was for me.  He would have died just for me. 

Knowing what He had done for me in love meant everything was about to change. 

Love changes everything and when I embraced His love, everything did change.

This is a moment I will never forget and one I am eternally grateful for. 

Although as I sat reflecting on this moment, the picture of the butcher and meat tenderizer came quickly to mind.

Almost, as if God was saying I prepared your heart for that day. 

I prepared you for that day and everyday before and after that day, to be soft to my Son. 

To be tenderized for Jesus.

I remembered those years growing up of going to Church and hearing truth, times with Mom jamming out to Amy Grant while baking, years of going to Church camp, praying before meals and bedtime, the letter my brother wrote to me during my High School graduation telling me to pursue God, and on and on and on. 

He’s been tenderizing my heart from day one when He made me love. 

The closer I look, the closer I see Him all over my life.

This Christmas I am so thankful for that significant moment in college when I met Jesus, but even more grateful for my Father in Heaven who is the Great Butcher of my heart.

Always preparing my heart for more of Him, His Son, and the Holy Spirit.

So...

Have you ever seen a butcher tenderize meat?

Does it ever feel like this is what God has been doing to your heart? 

What happens when you sit next to a hero, a WWII veteran?

As I boarded the plane this morning, I began to hold my breath, as I started to brace myself for who my seat buddy might be.  My eyes met the numbers above the seats, 3, 4, 5.  5C.  This was me, the moment of truth. 

I looked down and there sat an elderly man, wearing a WWII Veteran hat, and even before I could sit down he held out his hand and said, “Hello, my name is Bill.”  Already in my head, I am thinking, Yes! I love history and what an honor to sit next to this man!  Immediately, I began to think about how I could get every ounce of wisdom and experience out of my seat buddy, Bill.

Our conversation started out as normal small talk, but as I engaged with him about his WWII experience and his 40 years in the Navy, his words become very real and an increased passion filled his voice.  He recounted many stories of the pranks they used to play on the ship deck, his years of training as a radio & communications officer, the joys and yet struggles of marriage as he barely got to see his wife, his learning to love the Navy again and again, and most enlightening he told of his WWII experience at just 18 years of age.

His memory and detail of this time was truly amazing, as he retold of the time they invaded South France, and a missile landed within 50 yards of their ship, a mere miracle they weren’t hit. Yet, it was after the drink cart left us, with a tea in my hand, that his demeanor changed as he told me of his four boyhood friends who weren’t so lucky.  Specifically he began to tell me how each boy on his street fought and died.  Lastly, Bill mentioned another friend who made it home but spent the rest of his life in a hospital, never being able to recover mentally from his experience. 

As we continued to talk for the next hour, or rather Bill talk and I nod my head with an occasional comment of wow, I can’t imagine, or amazing being sputtered out of my mouth, there was one phrase that Bill continued to say that stuck with me.

He continued to say I learned to love. 

I learned to love the Navy.  I learned to love my captain.  I learned to love life at sea.  I learned to love…

Bill is 88 years old and seemed to have more life and energy than most people these days.  He carried such a passion and a trust in our country, the Navy, our educational system, but most of all a trust in people.  I could tell there is a deeper resolve in the heart of Bill to love or rather learn to love.  He certainly loved me when he reached out his hand and opened up his heart and life to me.  What greater gift can you give someone than the gift of your whole, true, and real self?

Through the years, Bill has learned to love.  He has learned to love, in what I imagine to be the most trying of circumstances.  I could have met a Bill who was bitter, hard-nosed, and angry with all that he has been through and seen through the years.  If so, I might of actually got to open the book that was in my hands, but instead, I got the privilege and honor of getting to know a Bill who year after year has made a choice to love.  To learn to love. 

AND I haven’t even told you the best part yet.  Bill’s middle name!

Bill Churchill.  He told me if you go through the records, Winston Churchill was his distant, distant cousin.  Are you kidding me?!  Amazing, was once again was blurted out of my mouth that time!  I went ahead and secretly received a spiritual blessing from Bill and his family lineage.  I can feel the anointing already! :)

When the plane began to land, I kid you not the song, Proud to be an American began to play in my head, terribly cheesy, I know.  Once again the freedom we have as Americans was put into perspective, as so many of us get to reap the benefits of the sacrifice of others. 

Freedom isn’t free.  Our military pay a price.  Jesus paid a price.  I think often I/we forget the honor it is to live in those freedoms.    

As I left the plane, Bill shook my hand again and said how much he enjoyed our time and I told him how thankful I was for the opportunity to sit next to him and hear his stories.  That might have been the most enjoyable plane ride I have ever taken.  He was truly a man who learned to love. 

But to leave you with the words of Bill....Go Navy! 

The Art of Storytelling

The art of storytelling is truly the mastery in learning how to hold the attention of your audience.  To be able to communicate a story in such a way that your audience stays engaged throughout the whole story.

A skill and mastery for sure and one I am currently getting lots of practice in.

My audience? A 3 ½ year old.

Almost everything day my niece Eva, in her sweet little voice asks, “KK, can we tell stories?”

So everyday I met with the storytelling challenge of holding the attention of a 3 ½ year old! I figure if I master this, then I can add storytelling to my resume, and if you are wondering I don’t see that happening anytime soon.

Our storytelling time starts with me asking her what characters she would like in the story.  She always says Teagan, Bella, Ethan, KK, Nana, Papa, Matt, Jana, Mommy, Daddy, and Alison, which translate as her family and her current best friend. 

Every now and then I ask her if she wants Jesus to be in the story.  She replies, no and restates again the people mentioned above to be included in the story.  I then make a mental note that I am failing as a spiritual Aunt!

Although, being the sneaky storytelling Aunt KK, I always find a way to make Jesus the main character in the story.  Usually it involves clumsy Aunt KK falling and breaking her arm or leg and Eva having to pray and ask Jesus to me! Cheeky, cheeky I know!

As I thought about Eva’s choosing of characters, it makes complete sense.  Her family and best friend are the people who she has the closest relationship with, so of course she wants them to be the main characters, and I pray as she more and more gets to know her dad in Heaven, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit they will begin to take their role as well. 

Yet as I reflected even deeper on this art of storytelling, I realize the storytelling world is no different from our “real world”. 

Everyday we are writing the story of our lives and choosing the main characters and their significance.    

Everyday your story is being told.  My story is being told. 

People watch it.  People hear it.  On display for all to see.

Everyday the story continues to unravel and the main characters evolve and grow. 

As I think about my story, desiring to have my Father, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit as my main characters, I see how compelling my story has become. 

When you look at Jesus’s life in the Bible, people were drawn to His story, to His very life. He held the attention of everyone He engaged with. 

His life was mastery in itself, and if I am doing this Christianity thing right, then I believe my story, my life should follow suit.  It should hold the attention of everyone watching and listening in. 

So if the art of storytelling is truly mastery in learning how to hold the attention of your audience, maybe then the art of living your story is truly mastery in choosing the right main characters.

And if you ask me, I think I am onto something there! J

Then again who knew the a simple of act of telling a story to a 3 ½ year old could take me so much deeper and remind me that the characters in my story are the most compelling of all.  For I have truly chosen wisely. 

We all have a choice.  Who are characters? What will be their significance?  

So…

What’s your story? Who are your characters? Are they evolving?

For no one likes a dying plot.

And seriously who can resist telling stories to this face?! 

Love at the Start..poem of sorts

Love at the Start

For the Lord is the Maker

The one above it all

He crafted and He made us

And carries us when we fall

Though fall we may and fall we might

He’s there to guide us with His sight

For this God we know,

This God we love

Forever comprehending, 

His majesty above

For Love is His center,

His very inner core

Without Him we are nothing,

Just words, nothing more

This is why we need to know Him, each and every day,

For without Him we are lost, prone to go our own way

So don’t try it or attempt it,
To go at it alone

For He’s your Daddy whose in Heaven,

Sitting high upon the throne

Once high, then low, and now all around

He’s real, with you

Father, let your trumpet sound

He hears your cry,

Your every heartbeat

See your Daddy in Heaven,

Watches you even as you sleep

Nothing flashy, nothing big

Simply call upon Him now

For this love, it comes so softly

Only the Holy Spirit knows how

For you’ll know when He comes

Because you won’t be left the same

Only rooted and secure

In the power of His name

For deep within, only He knows

He pushes you out and further you must go 

Go we must, and go we might

Ready we are, Ready to fight

They’re one in the same,

Him and His love

To have and to hold

It's best not to fold

You see at the beginning,

He breathed a breathe and created us all, 

With no single regret

Then a smile began

And loved filled His heart

My dear don’t you see?

For His love was your start

Love at the beginning

And love till the end

For there’s no telling when

When He will descend again

So no matter your circumstance,

No matter your lot

Your Daddy in Heaven

Loves you a lot!

For at the start of it all

Love filled His heart!


Be filled with His love today!