New devotional in the works!! What do you think?

I'm hoping for some input.  This is the beginning of my next project.  But first, some background.

When I went through multiple losses, I went through PTSD.  People go through PTSD for a variety of reasons.   I have lasting effects from it.  For example, when I had my recent accident, I had trouble concentrating--focusing.  I still do from time to time.  It is hard to listen to people for any length of time.  Even today, I found myself "fuzzy" during a meeting.

When I was able to realize I needed help, I tried to find something that would give me focus.  I couldn't do it.  I'm not sure why--all I know is that there was nothing out there that was helpful.  Everything was too long, and everything was too cerebral.  Anything more than a line or two was overwhelming.  What I needed during those first days was a sort of mantra.  I found it in the words of Julian of Norwich.

As I've thought about this, I've decided that I want to write a devotional that would have helped me.  I prayed about it as I was prayerfully considering my platform, and this is what I came up with:

• It has to be in sections, not day by day.
• It has to go from very short thoughts to longer short ideas to normal.
• It should have a section for times when you wonder what you can do to help others.
• It should be short on reference and long on love, especially at the beginning.

With this in mind, I've decided on this format:

• The first section will consist of sentences with short instructions on how to use them.  I remember that it was hard to breathe.  That was the major thing.  I couldn't focus enough even to take a full breath (if that sounds weird, remember, this is me).  This section will help you breathe in the words and let them rest in your soul.
• The second section will be short paragraphs--still in the mindset of coming to your soul, but with a little more meat.
• The third section will be more like a traditional devotional.  There will be the verses, the short story, the summary idea, and verses for further reference.

• The final section will be similar to the third, but it will be focused specifically on how others have taken their pain and lessons learned to help those who are hurting.  The idea is based on my life verse:  2 Cor 3-4:   Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, 4 who comforts us in all our tribulation, that we may be able to comfort those who are in any trouble, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.

Here is a sample of the first section.  I'd like to know--if you were in the midst of heavy suffering, would this help you?

All will be well, and all will be well, and all will be very well

St Julian of Norwich

Breathe deeply, and say this quietly to yourself.  Stop.  Let yourself feel the truth of what you’ve said.  Stop.  Repeat, one phrase at a time. Understand that even if you don’t believe it, something inside you is being fed.  Accept that.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

Philippians 4:13

Breathe deeply, and say the entire verse quietly to yourself.  Stop.  Let the truth sink in.  Repeat the entire verse again, breathing in on “I can do all things” and out on “through Christ who strengthens me.  Stop.  Breathe deeply and let the truth of the verse soothe your soul.  Understand that you will understand the truth of this, even though you may not believe it right now.  Accept that your subconscious can grasp what you can’t right now.

Never, never, ever give up!

Winston Churchill

Take a deep breath. Say this to yourself with strength.  Even if you feel stupid doing it, say this to yourself in a very strong voice.  If you feel your heart shrinking inside, it’s because it doesn’t believe (yet) that this is possible.  It is.  Remind yourself that you are in control of your body, your mind, your soul, and your spirit.  If you choose not to give up, then you will not.

I don’t normally put in a second paragraph, but I want to remind you that I’m speaking of essential things, here.  Don’t give up on living.  Don’t give up on being whole.  Don’t give up on walking forward.  Please don’t mistake essentials for non-essentials.  It might be necessary to give up on a non-essential in order not to give up on an essential.  Just remember—at this stage, you are working on trust and confidence and the ability to stand.

Steps to wholeness

I have very few memories of the first few days after losing my husband.  I remember flashes, basically.  There is a family friend that we forgot to inform of his death coming into the hospital room with donuts, saying, "Oh, he's dead?  Oh no!  Do you want some donuts?"  There is a trip to the store, getting in line behind a short guy with curly hair in a camouflage hat and forcing myself not to go to him--it can't be Val.  Val's gone.  There is the comfort of staying in Esther's house, along with the sinking understanding that life has to go on--I have to go home.

I do know that it was too much.  There had been too much death and I had been damaged, and so had all my family.  The years that followed were full of selfish decisions, of selfless decisions, of heartbreaking decisions--all made by a woman who had been damaged and had not healed.  I remember not being able to think.  I began to rely too much on friends around me because I couldn't trust myself.  I couldn't think things through.

I began to reach out for help almost immediately.  But the help that I received didn't stay in my mind.  The best that I could do was internalize small phrases--make them into a mantra.  The one that I remember most is a quote from Julian of Norwich:  All will be well, all will be well, and all will be very well.  It rang in my head, at times reassuring and at times mocking, but I know beyond doubt that I believed the words that rang.

As I continued in the steps to trying to get well enough to function (I wouldn't call it a search for wholeness yet, although I did then), I needed a voice.  Not my voice; I needed a voice to tell me that they cared.  I needed to be able to speak my fears and my concerns to another person and have that person say to me something like, "I know.  I understand."  I should have been praying, but I couldn't pray.  I simply couldn't focus that well.  So instead I spoke to people I trusted, and even though they didn't understand what I needed, I loved them for listening.

Need is selfish.  I knew I was beginning to step away from being wholly needy when I began to listen to others--not my own children, sadly, but those who were dead long ago.  It was listening to the Akathist of Thanksgiving that gave me the hope to finally begin to write again.

As the years passed, I slowly began to see a difference.  It first the realization that I could breathe without my heart hurting with every breath.  It then came in seeing that life wasn't as serious as I saw it.  Later, I began to see light in my darkness.  But slowly, very slowly.  I'm cautiously saying now that I feel that I'm healed, and this is 21 years down the line.  But that's not to say that every step until lately has been fraught with  fear and sadness.  No, but it's only recently that I can say that I usually feel...well, good.

In the coming weeks, I am going to start putting a devotional--for want of a better word--together for those who are starting down the road I traveled.  It will not be day-by-day.  Instead, I plan to make it in sections.  The first section will be very short phrases--mantras, really--things you can easily read and that will ring in your head.  The second section will be very short thoughts regarding the journey.  Other sections will become increasingly longer and more thoughtful, meant to be read as you are further on the road to recovery.  I am not sure where this section will lead, but I know enough about the process to know that I will be ready when the time comes.

I'm hoping that my book brings healing.  I'm hoping that all my writings help with healing.  If you have any ideas about something you think would be good for a book for those recovering from PTSD-type trauma, please let me know in the comments or by commenting (either in the section or on FB or Google).

Psalm 144

I wanted to take a little time to day to reflect on the person who wrote Psalm 144.  It is said to be written by David--not all the psalms are, of course, and it speaks to me in ways that other psalms do not.

Praise be to the Lord my Rock,
    who trains my hands for war,
    my fingers for battle.
² He is my loving God and my fortress,
    my stronghold and my deliverer,
my shield, in whom I take refuge,
    who subdues peoples^[a] under me.

David the poet--those fingers that strummed a lyre and fashioned poetry for his God also slew those that were against him.  He was equally secure praising his God in song and complaining about his slowness to come and deliver him.  He was aware of God's goodness and strength, and he was equally aware that God had equipped him, too, to be a power in His name.

³ Lord, what are human beings that you care for them,
    mere mortals that you think of them?
⁴ They are like a breath;
    their days are like a fleeting shadow.

What beautiful words.  This psalm is made by a true poet.  He goes from glorifying God for subduing people under him to musing about the nature of man.  They are like a breath--their days are like a fleeting shadow.  How true--David himself is now a song.  His legacy to us is his love of God and his honesty before the Lord.

⁵ Part your heavens, Lord, and come down;
    touch the mountains, so that they smoke.
⁶ Send forth lightning and scatter the enemy;
    shoot your arrows and rout them.
⁷ Reach down your hand from on high;
    deliver me and rescue me
from the mighty waters,
    from the hands of foreigners
⁸ whose mouths are full of lies,
    whose right hands are deceitful.

From observation to reflection to petition.  And what a petition!  Smite those that persecute me!  Who among us would have the brazenness to pray like this?  Those people who threatened him--they had families and cattle and land, too.  But they were full of deceit and lies, and therefore David felt justified in asking for their extermination.

⁹ I will sing a new song to you, my God;
    on the ten-stringed lyre I will make music to you,
¹⁰ to the One who gives victory to kings,
    who delivers his servant David.

Is this a bribe?  If you rescue me, I will give you more music?  I don't think so.  Instead, I think that David is asserting that his victory is a foregone conclusion.  If he is a man after God's own heart, how could anyone stand against him?

I especially like the last two lines--the one who gives victory to kings/who delivers his servant David.  Even as a king, David acknowledges his servanthood.

From the deadly sword ¹¹ deliver me;
    rescue me from the hands of foreigners
whose mouths are full of lies,
    whose right hands are deceitful

Is he all alone in this?  Who is with him to fight?  He seems self-absorbed, and yet, really, isn't that how we should all be?  God tells us to come to him with all our hurts and our needs, and this is exactly what David is doing.

12. Then our sons in their youth

 will be like well-nurtured plants,

and our daughters will be like pillars

carved to adorn a palace.

13. Our barns will be filled

 with every kind of provision.

Our sheep will increase by thousands,

by tens of thousands in our fields;

14. our oxen will draw heavy loads.^[b]

There will be no breaching of walls,

no going into captivity,

 no cry of distress in our streets.

Their sons and daughters (now we have the our) are dependent on David in a very real way.  Kingdoms fell or grew strong in the strength of their king.  He knew exactly what he was talking about.  Victors had confidence, peace, freedom--and food.

15. Blessed is the people of whom this is true;

blessed is the people whose God is the Lord.

David leads the sons of Israel into battle.  He leads the Chosen, the people that God pulled out of Egypt, led to the Promised Land, and saved from danger again and again and again.  And all we who believe are adopted into this same wonderful family.  Blessed is the people whose God is the Lord!  Maranatha, Lord Jesus! Come and take your people home! Amen!

On the steps

Walking up the steps that the great man never climbed.
Stopping for a moment to look upward at the Greek temple--
Would he have been impressed
Or would he have guffawed at the thought
The boy from Illinois
The homespun hero
Enshrined like a king
Like a god
In a temple of white marble.

He sits sedately
Hair and suit ruffled.
Sitting, he seems less imposing somehow.
A benignly beaming god looking amiably down
At those who make history below him.

What does he think as he gazes across the open space--
Reflecting pool, Washington Monument, Capitol Building in the distance?
Does he remember the great moments?
Does he see Martin Luther King in memory?
Does he hear the throb of the crowd,
Cheering on the man of peace
Hoping for latter-day freedom?

Do you remember Mr. King, Sir?
Did you cheer him on in his cry for equality?
And did it surprise you
That even after 100 years,
It still had not come?

As I look into your eyes
The eyes that searched for freedom
It seems that you see something far away
Something longed for but not yet realized

We are still struggling, Sir.
Sometimes it feels that we are treading water
Just barely
Water as murky as the black reflecting pool.

But then, the pool is black
To better reflect.

So maybe today
In the darkness of political rivalry
and bitter feuds between the left and the right
and the disrespect that permeates our society
We can stop and look

See your reflection,

Remember your struggle

And maybe that can help us go a day further

So that we can continue in the cause.

For we share this cause,
Not only you,
But John and Martin and so many others
Known and unknown.

We reflect your hope
As we take up your cause
And we hope that we have it in us to say,
As you did

With malice toward none, with charity for all, with firmness in the right as God gives us to see the right,  let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orphan, to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations.

4

Who shall find rest? Thoughts on Messiah

He shall lead his flock like a shepherd
Will you, now?  Will you really?  Who exactly will you lead?  The conservative right? The liberal left?  The gatherings who can trace their heritage to  the foundation of Your church? The newcomers who have broken away because of perceived errors in this line or that line?  Who?

Will you lead only those who are fit to be called Your children?  And who determines that, by the way?
The above-mentioned conservative right or liberal left?  Are all children your children?
Are none of us really really yours?
Is this just some big cosmic joke?

What flock exactly will you lead?

And he shall gather the lambs in his arm
And he shall carry them in his bosom
The lambs.  You will gather the lambs and carry them.  The lambs from Columbine?  The lambs from Sandy Hook?  The lambs from Kenya and Congo and Botswana?  All of these?  What if some don't believe in you?

Will you keep them safe even when the world is determined to do them damage?

And he shall gently lead those who are with young.
Oh.  That was me.  You led me all those days when the earth was black and without hope or purpose.  You led me past hardship and sorrow and grief and pain and loss and suicidal thoughts and you carried me
right into more grief and pain and loss

But were you really carrying me?  I felt so alone.

Come unto him, all ye that labor
Come unto him, ye that are heavy-laden
And he will give you rest.
Well, that's pretty clear.  All.  Conservative right, liberal left, homosexuals, homophobes, pro-life, pro-choice--everyone. Only qualification--you have to be heavy-laden.  Does that let anyone out?  I really don't think so.  All of us struggle.  Guilt, shame, depression, humiliation, physical and mental infirmity-we all struggle.  We all labor under our own yokes.  And when we come unto him--when we seek him out (or accept that he has led us to him) what happens?  We find rest.  Rest for the weary. That sounds good. 

Take his yoke upon you
And trust in him
What? Another yoke?  Don't we have enough to bear already?  Do we also have to bear his burden?  But wait.  Trust in him.  When you yoke two animals together, the burden--no matter what it is--is decreased.  You don't have to bear it alone.  He isn't asking you to take more; he's asking you to give him more and let him take care of it all.  You just have to trust.  But trust is such a big word!  Why should we trust?

For he is meek and lowly of heart
And you shall find rest unto your soul.
Oh.  He is meek and lowly of heart.  What does that even mean?  Meek?  The dictionary says that to be meek is to be patient and submissive.  Submissive?  To me?  You mean he will allow me to put my needs first?  And lowly?  What is lowly of heart?  A heart that is meek.  A heart that isn't bound up in pride.  Coming unto a man such as this would surely bring rest to the soul.

So yes, Lord,
I accept you as my Shepherd. 
I accept that I am a lamb--one of many, but precious to you.
I acknowledge my need to find rest
And to find the ability to trust.

So today,
As much as I can,
I take your yoke, 
Put it upon myself--
knowing that you are sharing my burden so much more than I'm sharing yours
And I ask for grace
To trust in You.

And this trusting comes without the need for answers.
I need not worry about conservative right, liberal left,
Lambs in the US and abroad,
Those who know you and those who don't know you.

They are not my burden to bear.
Not that they aren't important--
They are, much more than I can ever comprehend.
But they are your burden, 
Not mine.
And even my own burden,
My heart, my friends, my children, my past and my future--
Your desire is for me to give them over in bondage with you.

And so I do,
Now and forever.
Amen.