Real Love Found Me

By Diane Mayfield –

I was a lonely, shy little girl longing to feel loved and wanted by someone. I often fantasized about belonging to a large family where I was the only girl. In that fantasy, all my brothers adored me. Of course, the fantasy didn’t last, so I was left in loneliness when it ended.

In my early elementary school years, I discovered that making really good grades won me a special place as Teacher’s Pet. So that became my goal. I set out at the beginning of the school year to win that place in each teacher’s heart. In that I could feel loved.

In junior high, I found there was an “in” group and worked hard to belong to the group, thinking that would give me the sense of being loved. At the same time, boys started paying attention to me. My world came alive with the thrill of boyfriends and popularity. It didn’t seem to bother me that I had to work hard to keep up these positions. I had no idea there was an unconditional love freely given if I just opened my eyes and believed.

As one might expect, looking for love in relationships with boys often led to self-destructive and abusive relationships. What I thought was love was not love at all. God in His goodness would use that path to later introduce me to true love.

At that time in my life, I made unwise choices. One choice in particular brought me to the end of myself. I needed forgiveness but I wasn’t really sure how to find it. Growing up Catholic, I was taught the way to forgiveness was by confessing to a priest. So, in my senior year in college, I went to a priest. I told him my story and my need for forgiveness.

He told me, and rightly so, that I didn’t really understand my faith and suggested that I take a class being offered to learn about it. I did.

One evening a laywoman came to the class and lead us in how to get alone with God. She took us through what I later understood to be a visualization exercise. It went like this. Imagine that you are in some quiet place. I imagined myself on a grassy green hillside overlooking water. Then she suggested that you see Jesus coming to you. What would you say to Him? I did just that. I saw in my mind Jesus walking to me with His hand outstretched to me. I took His hand and asked Him, “Why did you die for me?” His answer was, “Because I love you.”

I walked out that night and knew Jesus was real, living, and my friend. More importantly, I knew I was loved and I found a place I belonged, right in Jesus’ arms.

Later in my new life, I learned it was not by my efforts that I found Jesus. He was wooing me all that time that I was going the wrong way. He never let go. Now that is true love. “We love because He first loved us” (1 John 4:19 NIV).

Limitations

By Diane Mayfield –

I hate limitations. There I said it. I’m frustrated when I can’t get up, hit the floor running, and get my list completed. What’s even worse is when I need someone else to help me do simple things like cut my meat or wrap my packages. Then I have to be on his timetable. If you haven’t guessed by now, internal peace is not filling me up.

Recently I had what was to be a minor surgery on my left pinky finger. I expected to have the pinky and it’s neighboring finger in a splint for two weeks. In my mind that was manageable. When I awoke from surgery, I had my left hand in a mitten-like soft cast from the tips of my fingers past my wrist. My thumb and index finger remained moveable. My sister referred to it as my claw. My hand looked like a lobster with only pinchers exposed. I quickly found I was quite limited in what I could do, even down to typing this article.

I know many others are for more limited than me. On TV, I recently saw the young Australian man who was born with no limbs. He’s written a book, drives a car, and fully enjoys life. He travels the world speaking about his faith and it’s enabling power. Believe me, I get it. I’m just a whiner trying to get to the other side of my pity party.

Nevertheless, in my quiet time with God instead of worship, I’m flooded with all my to do’s for this Christmas season. My claw hand slows me down way too much. You can then imagine my internal frustration and complaining to the Lord. God in His goodness got a hold of me, though, in the story of Martha and Mary. “Martha, Martha, the Lord said, You are worried and upset about so many things, but few things are needed-or indeed only one” (Luke 10:41-42 NIV).

Then I thought about, or I should say He brought to mind, Jacob wrestling with the angel in his desire to do things his own way. Jacob was crippled in that encounter. Paul was imprisoned when he wrote many of his profound letters inspired by the Holy Spirit. John was led to a deserted island where he was taken up in a vision of the end times. All of these men were limited in some way to accomplish God’s greater purposes. Even our Lord limited himself to become flesh and dwell among us that we might be saved.

Limitations, while I hate them, often happen so that He might increase in my life. That is if I am willing to surrender to His way and focus on what Mary did. That is to sit at his feet and listen to Him.

God, I pray I would see your face in this limitation. My desire is that You would increase in me and my ways would decrease.

Finding Joy in the Season

By Diane Mayfield –

Christmas traditions fill my heart with such joy. They always have. When our three children were young, part of our Christmas tradition was to have them choose a gift to put under the tree for Jesus’ birthday. I loved to see what they would choose. One might wrap her favorite doll to place under the tree. A stuffed kitty cat made her way under the tree for Jesus. There was even a favorite toy gun. When the kids grew, the gift giving to Jesus grew as well. Gifts of the heart were shared during a private family dinner that then would end with communion.

We also held a Jesus birthday party for the neighborhood kids. The first year we had the party, one of my son’s friends broke out in Chicken Pox the day after the party. Ten days later, all three of my children, under the age of four, broke out with that itching disease. Can I call that spiritual warfare?

It didn’t stop us though. We kept on having the party and inviting school friends and neighborhood families. One year, I dressed up as an angel, halo and all, and told the story from the angel’s point of view. Another year my husband Dave appeared as a shepherd, speaking from the shepherd’s perspective.

I loved those years of teaching and training our kids about Jesus. Several months ago, I asked them what they remembered about all those traditions and which one meant the most. You won’t believe what they said. They loved the praying together at the top of the stairs before we went down to the tree. All five of us gathered at the top of the stairs to pray. We thanked God for the gift of Jesus, His unconditional love, and for being able to share the day with family. Who knew that would be the tradition they carried in their hearts.

Well, those children are now grown. Two are married and live in Houston. One lives in Austin. So getting everyone together on the same day to celebrate Christmas this year is not possible due to extended family complications. And quite honestly, I’m heartbroken about it. It is one of my greatest joys in life being together as a family. This is the first year we won’t be together.

On my walk this morning, I said to God, “ Help me with all this. I need a renewed perspective. I need to find the joy in the season again.” In His sweet, gentle way, He took me to those memories of years ago and reminded me of my former teaching to my kids about giving to Jesus. It’s not just for kids. Because one thing didn’t work out the way I wanted it to, I’d lost heart. I’d thrown out what I’d spent so much of my life teaching. So, the question for me is what will I give to Jesus this season. How will I package it? And when will I start the giving?

I don’t have the whole answer yet, but suddenly the dark cloud has lifted and I’m filled with the joy of discovering what the gift will be. I’m starting with changing my focus from what isn’t going to happen to what is happening. I have time with my children and grandchildren, not all on the same day, but at least I will get time with all of them. Who knows, maybe in some way that will extend my joy.

Traditions change, but not the real meaning of God’s greatest gift to us, His Son Jesus.

Light Penetrates the Darkness

By Diane Mayfield –

I don’t often get up early enough to see the sunrise. I really only do that here at the beach where I don’t want to miss a moment of my time in this splendid demonstration of His glory. So, I get up. Every time I’m mesmerized by the drama plays out when the sun rises to send the darkness of the night away. This morning is no different.

After a night of lightening, thunder and storming, there was silence. No more rain and no rumblings of thunder, but dark clouds remained. In fact, darkness prevailed until I saw the sun peek out from the left of those dark clouds. It was as if there was a battle for space. Who would win? As the light burst through with its illuminating rays and warmth, darkness fades. Where it goes, I don’t know. Once again, light penetrated darkness.

At that moment, I’m reminded of the spiritual battles we face each day between the truth of the Light and the lies of darkness. It is often an unseen but very present battle. This morning I witness a vivid picture of such drama.

Today, guilt and shame plague me. I have a sense that I’m never enough. That what I do is not good enough, not quite “high-end enough.” Whatever that means. I feel guilty for this vacation when someone close to me is in such pain. How could I be here for ten days when my dear friend is struggling so much? What do I have to offer as a writer that people haven’t already heard? Negative thoughts bombard me, robbing me of the joy and peace that comes from knowing and belonging to Jesus. It’s a subtle attack. Not like a barrage of hailstones, but effective nevertheless. It starts slowly like the sprinkles of rain until it grows into the noise of a raging storm and beyond all reason.

The good news is Truth and Light prevails, just like in the cosmic battle between the sun and the darkness from the night. In Jesus, the Light of Truth penetrates and sends the messages of darkness retreating into the abyss. That’s what happened to me this morning when I saw the sun rise in victory over the dark cloud from the storm.

I remembered that I could choose what I wanted to believe, whom I wanted to believe in.

I’m filled with overflowing gratitude that I belong to Jesus. His truth and the light of His presence and who I am in Him sent the false guilt and shame of accusatory lies away. I suffer no condemnation in Him and I live free to worship Him with all my heart, soul and mind. I do that now, on this beach, watching wave upon wave roll in as I praise Him for the majesty of His creation. I can trust Him for my struggling friend. I don’t know if what I have to write matters, but I will obey is call to do so. The truth is I’m not enough, but in Him, I have all that I need for this life and all eternity. Thank you, Jesus.

A New Season of Life

By Diane Mayfield –

I hoped, foolishly, by the time I raised three children and had been married for thirty-five years I’d have this life down pat. Well, I don’t. Once again, I’ve entered a new season of life. It’s one I don’t know. I often feel powerless, helpless, and invisible.

Here’s the scenario. I have three adult children. My oldest two are married and my youngest is not. I also care for my widowed mother who is in the moderate stages of Alzheimer’s and lives in an assisted living community. I am the primary caretaker for her needs. Now you might say, “What’s the problem with all that?”

With my adult children, all I can do is listen. My role is to support and, of course, pray. I am second in line, which is as it should be. Except that I was their mother for eighteen years and had a huge voice in their lives. The bottom line is that I want to tell them what to do, which is not my place any longer. I must decrease so they can increase.

Emily, the middle child, married a great guy last May. They now live in Houston and I’m in Fort Worth. I raised her to fly away, be her own person, and create her own life. She is doing that and doing it beautifully. I miss sharing daily life together. We can’t have lunch once a week. I didn’t get to help her move in to her new house on moving day. I didn’t get to put the shelf paper in her new cabinets. I know these are petty things, but they are the experiences that I cherish. Get over it, the Zac Brown song says.

A friend brought this home to me when she told me her son was moving to Somalia as a missionary, permanently. Boy, did I stop my whining.

Sarah, my youngest is quite an accomplished young woman. She owns her own house, is a CPA, and has a group of friends that she enjoys and they adore her. She longs to find the right man to build a life with, but she has not met him yet. I want God to move on this and He has not done so yet. I feel powerless.

My mom doesn’t think she has memory issues. After all, she plays duplicate bridge and, in her words, you have to have a good memory to do that. Forget the fact that she’s played bridge for sixty years. Alzheimer’s disease attacks the short -term memory, not the long-term. She doesn’t count the fact that she can’t remember her grandchildren’s names or what I said to her five minutes ago. Parenting someone without her acknowledging her need exhausts me.

I must keep my mouth shut and I’m used to opening it. My power is in prayer and serving. That’s not the position I’ve operated in most of my life. Obviously that’s exactly where God wants me. I’m grateful the Holy Spirit showed me that this is part of God’s plan in this season of life.

His word for me is, “Be still and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10).

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