A Plea and a Prayer: No More

Leelah Alcorn. A bright young lady, only a few months younger than me. She ended her life recently, because she was shown no love, no acceptance, and felt as though the world would never have any hope in it for her, as she was.

Jamey Rodemeyer. 14 years of age.

Jacob Rogers. 18 years of age.

Seth Walsh. 13 years of age.

Asher Brown. 13 years of age.

Eden Wormer. 14 years of age.

And so many more, over the years and through the ages. Gone too soon. They took their own lives, driven to suicide by hatred, by neglect and feeling as though they would never fit in.

Suicide is on the rise because the more time that  passes, the more one realises that love and acceptance are becoming rarer and rarer in society. Bullies run rampant. The 'mongers' - the mongers of hate, and war, and fear - roam the streets and the cyberworld, waiting. Waiting to strike and then disappear, anonymous and uncaring.

Why? Why do we sacrifice souls of beauty, people of worth? And we do. We do sacrifice them. We sacrifice living beings with hearts and emotion, solely for our own agendas - or our own fear of taking a stand, taking their hand, and protecting them whatever the costs. We betray them to the abyss of agony, in an act of self-preservation.

We allow men, women, and children to die - because we are afraid. Afraid to love unconditionally, afraid to accept them, flaws and all. Afraid to get too close.

Because if we had let them get too close, what if they had dragged us down with them? What if their dirt and grime had brushed off on us and turned us - horror of horrors - into them? We could not allow ourselves to get close enough for that to happen... to have their dirt and grime mingle with the dirt and grime we ourselves already carry.

Don't you see? Can't you understand?

It was not only their hand that brought them to the next life. We - the fellow humans, the fellow souls - played our own parts. We did nothing to stop it. In some cases, we may have even caused it to happen.

This needs to stop.

We need to learn to love, to care, to feel. Apathetic is a pathetic way to be, and yet many who do not actively try to hurt others make it no better with their apathy.

Imagine a world where love reigned - a perfect ideal, where love replaced all pain, no exceptions. There would be no war; there would be no bullying; there would be no murders. Because everyone would love one another, and by extension want the best for every person they came across.

How many more innocents must die before we as a species realise that as long as hate, bigotry, fear, and superiority rule, there will be no peace? No hope for a gentle-minded world, no hope for the rescue of our children from depression, bullying, and anxiety.

How many more times will the Leelahs and Seths and Edens of this world have to die by their hands - and by extension our own - before we begin to change?

How many beautiful souls must we lose before it all becomes clear and we begin to hold them dear?

Please.

No more.

No more of this. No more pain, no more neglect, no more attacks hidden behind veils of sweetness-tinged judgement.

No more suicides, brought on by feelings of worthlessness and hopelessness.

No more deaths. Please, God, I beg you, no more. No more executions by the barrage of stones from the falsely righteous, justified by cries of 'sinner, foul sinner!'. No more worn and weary hearts pleading for Death to take them away from the day-to-day struggles of abandonment, cruelty, and unbelonging. No more light-filled souls shattered into shards of darkness.

No more, my God, I beseech thee.

No more.

Please... no more.

Why "I'll Pray For You" Doesn't Help

"I just feel so lost. I want to die, but at the same time, I just want to live."

"Ohh. I'm so sorry. I'll pray for you. Here, read these Bible verses."

That is the sort of conversation I've had many times. I'm in a dark place, and when I admit it to someone, their only words of comfort are 'I'll pray for you', and a few Bible verses copied-and-pasted from a Bible app or from Google.

As a person who has been and still is from time to time in that dark place where life seems meaningless, I feel qualified to speak about the "I'll pray for you" line and why it's rarely any help to a depressed or suicidal individual.

Perhaps you think you're being kind, encouraging, and comforting in your religious words of "I'll pray for you" and "Here, have some Bible verses".

And I'll say right now, sometimes, when done right, it can be comforting. One night, I was extremely lonely and sad, and a panic attack had come on. It was late, but I wasn't thinking about that when I called one of my brothers.

He was awake. And he sat there on the phone for a while, asking me what was wrong and giving me chances to talk if I could. In the end, he prayed out loud for me, and then read a passage from the Bible. Part of it was no doubt the gentle way he was talking - it soothed my frazzled nerves - but mainly it was comforting because I could hear it, and because he didn't just do that and then say he was going to go to bed. He stayed on the line and talked to me, reassuring me it was going to be okay.

Done in that way, the prayer and Bible verses tactic can be comforting.

But more often than not, a person I confide in will simply tell me after I just poured out my heart to them, "Oh no, I'm so sorry. I'll pray for you." Then they'll send some of the typical Bible verses. And... apparently expecting that to be all the comfort needed, they'll either move on with other topics or decide they have to go do something else more pressing.

That is not comforting. That gives, at least to me, the vibe that you really do not want to talk about what I'm going through. You just want to throw out what is, to you, a fix-all and then move on.

That is not helpful.

Look, when you have a child and they're sick, are you going to kneel by their bedside and say, "All right, Jimmy. I'm going to pray for you, and then read this Bible passage to you." Then you do that and leave, without giving him any of the comforts you typically give a child when they're sick - medications, extra blankets, chicken noodle soup, whatever.

No parent would ever think of doing that. Nor would they think of walking up to a man lying on the sidewalk with a broken leg and saying a prayer over them before walking off.

People need to stop treating mental issues and emotional issues as something you can just 'pray away'. We do not do that with physical ailments; why should you do that with mental and emotional ailments?

There isn't medication you can give to someone over the internet or over the phone that will fix their depression or their anxiety. But there is something you can give, and that is comfort. Real, proper comfort that you pour your heart into and show them you love them.

You need to come to terms with the fact that many depressed people (and I'm talking about Christians here) don't want to hear solely about God. *cue the horrified and outraged gasps*

Yeah, you heard me right. As horrible and terrible as it probably sounds to some of you, a depressed person wants to hear comfort and reassurance from someone tangible. Someone they can hear, touch, and get responses from.

Do you understand how it feels to be completely hopeless and to have given up on the world, and then to go to someone you trust for comfort... only to be turned away with a brief 'I'm praying for you'? That makes a person feel worse.

It makes me frustrated at best when I feel like the world is crashing down around me, and the person I go to for comfort sends me away with an alleged promise to pray and a few Bible verses.

It makes me feel alone. Because when I turn to someone I trust and tell them something as deeply personal as 'I want to die', I need comfort. I don't need them going on and on about 'God' and 'Jesus' and 'Bible' and 'pray'. I need them to reassure me that I'm going to be okay, that they're willing to listen to me vent no matter what, that they love me. I need them to give practical advice.

"I'll pray for you" by itself doesn't help because it makes me feel like I'm being pushed away like some little child with a 'later, dearie, I'm too busy to listen to you right now'.

"I'll pray for you" by itself doesn't help because it makes me feel alone.

"I'll pray for you" by itself doesn't help because it sometimes feels condescending and judgmental - because I'm not a good enough Christian due to the fact I don't place everything in God's hands.

"I'll pray for you" by itself doesn't help because it makes me feel inferior.

"I'll pray for you" by itself doesn't help because I gain no comfort from that.

"I'll pray for you" by itself doesn't help because I have trust issues and I have no idea whether you really will.

"I'll pray for you" by itself doesn't help because I need comfort, reassurance, and advice from someone I can talk to face to face.

It doesn't help by itself. A person comes to you for comfort, not a quick promise they have no certainty you'll keep or not.

The next time someone is upset and comes to you for comfort, try to give them something more than a few overused Bible verses and a promise, unless you know for sure that it helps them. Don't act like you can pray away their problems without doing anything else to help.

Make an effort to show that you truly care about them personally, to invest energy in them instead of passing them off to Someone who can't personally speak to or hug them.

Show them you truly care by investing time in them.

God bless,
Theodora Ashcraft

The farthest away I've ever been...

"If I take one more step, it'll be the farthest away from home I've ever been."

"Come on, Sam, remember what Bilbo used to say: 'it's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to'."

Starting on October 31st, I am going to be going on a journey father away from my home here in Washington than I have ever been before. I will be experiencing things I've never experienced before, and traveling roads I've never seen before.

(And in case you're wondering, I'm sharing this blog post early to ensure that all my friends and family sees it before I leave, so questions can be answered before I have no internet access.)

Some of you might know that I, last year, saved up money and sold things until I had earned almost enough money to pay for the Celtic Thunder Cruise. I'm taking my mom and brother, and we'll be gone from October 31st to about November 7th.

And now, only two weeks away from the trip... my excitement has turned into fear.

I've never left home to go anywhere further than California before; and that was way back - ten years ago. And we drove there; I have never once been on an actual passenger plane (I've been in a small, four-passenger plane once, but that didn't count 'cause I was piloting it... long story), or even really been in an airport before.

I've never been on a ship before - and yet, I do know I have a phobia of deep water (but hopefully that's just when I'm swimming).

And what scares me most of all, is that I've never been away from my dear friends for longer than two days. Back when I was six, needless to say, I didn't have any friends to begin with, so there wasn't anyone for me to miss or worry about.

But, the way I'm trying to see it... it's an adventure. And I've always wanted an adventure.

Besides, God will keep me and my friends safe. *smiles* I will be praying for each and every one of you every night.

Now, onto some announcements/general information.

1. I will be attempting to write day-by-day blog posts while I'm gone, styling them like journal entries (but without all of the pages of Teddy crying about how much she misses her friends and family, so don't worry, you won't have to slog through pages of my ridiculous emotions, *grins cheekily*), for those of you who want to know how the trip goes and exactly what I did - I know a few people who have already told me they want to know absolutely everything about the trip.

2. I will also attempt to film a few short videos using my digital camera in vlog-style, for those of you who don't want to read through a bunch of rambling and would... rather listen to me ramble out loud. *laughs*

3. Yes, I will be taking as many pictures and short videos as possible - and I might take Irish dancing classes on the ship. If I do, rest assured, I will try my hardest to convince my mom or brother or any new friends I make to film me dancing at least once. For all of you certain siblings who begged me to do so. ;)

4. If you see me online at all during those times, please do not message me. I will be getting online every so often during the trip, but it costs a LOT, and I'm only going to be online to do college homework and assignments. I might post short trip updates on G+ (maybe upload a few pictures early if I can), but I most likely won't be able to chat. If by some far reach I can, I'll message you myself. :)
I think that's about it for now.

I'm going to miss all of you so, so much. But I'm not going to be able to talk to you for a week, and there's no getting around it.

So, I have an announcement and plea I want to make known to you. It is going to be in a different color and bolded, because it's the most important part of this post, and I want it to stand out.

While I'm gone, I want you all to take care of each other. Okay? I think of myself as having three alter egos - they have various personality traits, and there are three: the wolf, the lioness, and the dragon. All of them have one thing in common though - they want to protect the people they love, and take care of them.

And that's who I am. I want to protect and take care of all of you, no matter how old or young, and the fact that I won't be able to know how you guys are doing for a week is enough to torture me mentally and emotionally.

So, since I can't take care of you guys... please take care of yourselves. Go to sleep on time, make sure you eat enough, don't tire yourselves out by working too hard, stay safe and don't do anything reckless.

Take care of each other too. I love all of you, but I know for a fact there are a few of you who won't take care of themselves properly while I'm away. So take care of one another; remind them to do/not to do the things I mentioned above. Be there for them, give them a shoulder to cry on, let them vent out their feelings to you. Just don't let it make you so you're not taking care of yourself.

So yes. PLEASE take care of yourselves and of each other while I'm gone. It'll only be for a week, and then I can get back to running around trying to mother all of you myself. *smiles a bit* Yes, even my older siblings. I love you guys too much to NOT mother you and protect you.

So yes. That's all I really wanted to say. I'm going to be putting up a G+ post a few days before I leave, and I'm going to also post something on Holy Worlds, check out of NaNo, perhaps email a few people, and post a brief farewell on Twitter. So everyone should end up seeing this. :)

God bless!

~ Theodora Ashcraft

Tears and Prayers

Tears and prayers. They’re both powerful things. I realized that on the night of October 2^nd.

This isn’t the normal sort of blog post I write here. Usually, I take a topic and expound on it, sometimes with my own opinions—but rarely do I have anything that happens in my life worth actually telling about.

But the night of the 2^nd… while nothing happened physically, I believe I grew a little more spiritually. And that’s why I want to share the happenings of the 2^nd with all of you.

I had been having a rough day. College had me stressed out, and not only that—the internet was down all day. That meant I had to be behind on schoolwork (I need internet access to the courses), and I couldn’t talk to my friends to calm myself down.

I was on the verge of tears most of the day… but none of them fell. For some reason, I refuse to let tears fall when there’s a danger of someone seeing me.

Finally, the internet was back on, and I proceeded with the evening as I usually do. I chatted a few friends, and asked questions to another friend about a trip they plan on taking over here (we were trying to figure out if they could stay overnight at my house when they visit). And I talked to one friend—an adoptive older sister—about my fear of losing the people I love, whether it be now or in the future.

Well, I was feeling slightly better when I shut the computer off for the night. I asked my mother about this overnight stay before she went to bed—and she said no (she has changed her mind since then, however, but that’s not important to this blog post).

Her saying no, I suppose, is what finally drove me to tears. I cried quietly (not too much sobbing) for about fifteen minutes, curled up on my bed and hugging my stuffed panda bear extremely tightly. Eventually, the tears stopped.

But then, for some reason, I decided to read through that conversation with my big sister again.

It hit me like a tidal wave. Within seconds, I was sobbing and I couldn’t stop. It went on like that—with me trying to stifle the sounds—for about ten minutes. It didn’t slow down, but despite that fact, I suddenly started to talk.

Just talk. No formalities, no trying to choose the right words—I just started pouring all of my emotions out into words, ignoring the fact that I was speaking through the sobs.

At first, I had no clue who I was talking to—at first, it seemed as though I was just talking to myself. But that made no sense, because I was begging Someone to help me. I was talking as though someone was sitting right beside me, listening to every word I said.

I eventually realized that I was praying, sort of—not in the traditional sense, but I was pouring everything out to God in a rush of repeated words and trembling half-sentences.

And, for about forty minutes, I just talked with Him. At first, I simply told Him how much it hurt, and how afraid I was of losing the people I loved, and how lonely I felt. I said I knew I shouldn’t feel lonely, because I was never really alone, but I couldn’t help it. I asked Him to help me be strong.

A realization randomly struck me, a sudden rush of clarity in my muddled mind—I realized, sharper than I ever had before… that God is huge. He is bigger than… than everything.

He is bigger than the tallest tree you’ve ever seen. He is bigger than the forests. He is bigger than the deserts, the mountains, the seas. He is bigger than this planet we’re all on.

And I realized that last night (the 2^nd), while I cried.

I told Him for a few minutes longer how I was feeling; I think I said, at one point, something that went a bit like this: “And… I know I shouldn’t, but I’m scared of losing the people I love. I shouldn’t be scared, but I am, even if they won’t be gone tomorrow, they will be sometime in the future, and… and I’m going to miss them so much.”

A thought ran through my head—almost as though someone or Someone else were saying it to me—that said, “But it’s not forever. You’ll see them again.”

And then the confession of the doubts came.

Yes, I doubt. I struggle with doubt every single day; not just of things and people, but of God Himself. It’s not something I tell people, because I’m not proud of the fact.

But last night, in a rush of words and tears, I confessed all the doubts. That sometimes I doubt there will ever be an end of endings—or a new beginning, the terms are interchangeable for me. That I doubt I will ever go Home to Heaven. That sometimes… sometimes I even doubt that there really is a Heaven.

I never doubt the existence of God. But somehow, for some reason, I doubt the existence of Heaven. I don’t know why. But I do.

I confessed those doubts first, and then rambled about other doubts I have—the doubts I have of the truthfulness of my friends, the often-appearing certainty that they’re lying and don’t really care about me at all. The doubts I have that anyone really loves me (including God Himself). The doubts I have that I’m really worth anything.

I felt guilty about all of these doubts, and switched from letting all of them out to pleading with God to forgive me, and to help me banish all of the doubts I was feeling—the ones I have about Him and Home, the ones I have about my friends, and the ones I have about myself. And after pleading with Him to do so, I felt a small flicker of peace somewhere deep inside.

I wasn’t finished, though. As my mind dwelled on thoughts of Home, another sudden realization, clear and sharp in the haze of my mind, hit me—the true meanings of the words ‘forever’ and ‘never’.

You see… I pin deadlines or time limits or what-have-you on things all the time, and I think subconsciously, I had always assumed that even Forever had an ending.

But last night in the midst of the tears, the true meaning of the words came to me. I finally realized that ‘forever’… it means ‘forever’. Always. There… is… no… time. Time simply does not exist. The same with ‘never’—when you go Home, you will be there forever (no ending, always, eternity) and will never have to hurt ever again. Ever.

And I finally realized what that meant. That when I go Home… time will cease to exist. Forever will really be forever.

The spark of peace inside of me grew to a small flame. But it still didn’t end there.

I talked of Home to God for a while. About how sometimes I wished I could just go Home now; not necessarily end my own life, but just to skip ahead to when He decides it’s time to take me Home, so I can be there and stop hurting.

I, still sobbing, told Him how much I wished with all my heart to be able to skip ahead to the time where I can be Home, with my friends and family and the ones I love forever, and never have to hurt again. Never have to miss them, never have to worry, never have to feel lonely, never have to say goodbye.

I have such a fierce longing for that time… it sometimes conflicts with the doubts I have about there really being a Heaven. But the longing is always there.

Then I talked of how I understand I can’t end my life to go Home now, because not only can I not leave my friends… but also that there is a journey I have to complete. I have a long road to walk yet.

I really said that—I used those words. Journey. Road.

Then the sobs came harder, and I confessed the pain. I whispered that sometimes this Journey hurts so badly, and oftentimes it feels like I’m trudging down an abandoned, desolate Road, surrounded by shadows and mist. Alone… so alone. Chased by painful memories, unable to run and escape them because, after all, how can one escape themselves?

I cried that it hurt, and that I don’t even know where I’m going; where the Road ends. I don’t even know what my Journey is! I don’t know what purpose I’m supposed to fulfill. I whispered that I wished I could know.

And then something occurred to me, almost as though a Voice murmured it to me. Then I said in a quiet voice between sobs that I understood what I need to do. I understood that I need to simply walk the Road and let God lead me to where He will—that I simply need to let Him lead and not worry about my destination or what will happen at the end.

I talked of that for a while longer, and then stopped crying briefly. I lay there on my bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to steady my breathing. I thought it was over—that I had stopped crying, and that I had poured my heart out to God, and that it was finished for the night. I would have no more realizations or tears, and would just attempt to get to sleep. I felt restless, though, and had a hard time relaxing.

Suddenly, like a splash of icy water in the face… yet another realization struck me, and it was the most powerful of all.

As I lay there, I realized something I have known all my life, but never truly understood, appreciated, or realized as sharply until last night. It hit me so hard, it felt like I had truly, physically been shaken awake.

I realized in a sharp way I had never before, that Jesus was mocked and beaten… for me. He went through unimaginable agony and torture… for me. He was utterly alone, forsaken by even His Father in the end… for me. He died a horrible death… for me.

Not only did I realize that, but another fact slammed into me—I don’t deserve any of it. I don’t deserve it at all. Without Him, I would be nothing but a worm that lives and then dies and fades into nothingness, having had no purpose in life. And even with Him, I am still nothing but a sinner saved by the grace and love of One greater than all.

And as those realizations pounded into me, I started sobbing again. Yes, the full-on sobbing. I kept whispering ‘thank you’ over and over again, that I didn’t deserve any of it, but He had gone through it anyway. I must have said ‘thank you’ at least fifty times within five minutes, but I didn’t care. I just kept saying it and crying.

And the burning embers inside of me became a blaze—the flames of hope, the fire of gratitude, and surrounding it all the glow of peace.

I stopped crying again, and this time it was final. I lay there, quietly staring at the ceiling with nothing but the sound of my own breathing breaking the silence, and I thought about all that had happened—all the realizations I had come to.

Then I whispered ‘thank you’ one last time, turned out the lights, and went to bed.

And the reason I wanted to share all of that with you… is because it had a huge impact on me, and I hope that it will have an impact on all of you as well—even if it only has an impact on one of you, then that will be a blessing in and of itself.

Not only that, but all of the realizations I came to… they can apply to you as well. Especially this—Jesus went through all of that pain and grief for you. He died… for you, my brothers and sisters.

I had one last realization before I went to sleep.

No matter what happens, God has it all under control. He knows the end of your Road and the purpose of your Journey, even if you yourself don’t understand them.  He knows every single thing that will happen, and He will work it all together for the greater good.

He holds you in his arms. And even if you stumble on your Journey… He will never—never—let you go.

On Anger and Forgiveness

This is a blog post on anger. The beginning is a bit of a personal analogy, but that’s only to give you the background needed so I can use myself as an example. :) Just bear with me through the personal analogy to the main point of the post.

If you had asked me in the past—to be honest, even if you asked me now—if I stood up for what I believed in, I would probably hem-and-haw until finally shrugging. I never was sure if I was brave enough to stand up for who or what I believed in. The only times I ever did stand up for things were actually me throwing tantrums. *sheepish smile* That doesn’t count, obviously.

Well, as of late, one of my big brothers has been teaching me how to stand up for what I believe in, and to speak my mind if I have something I want to say—the two things I have trouble doing.

I still become nervous when a chance comes for me to use my voice and speak up for something, but I’m getting there. I’m learning, and I’m getting better at it.

Recently, I received several chances to stick up for someone I loved; one of my brothers. I was afraid, yes. But the funny thing is, I love my brother too much to hear people spreading rumors about him. So… in a way… my love overrode my fear.

The first chance, I admit… it was the first time I had heard any of these rumors, and instead of standing up and speaking out, I spent a good few hours crying. The sudden onslaught of information I had received, plus certain fears of mine and my unstable emotions, just caused my system to shut down while I found myself being battered in an attack of anxiety and tears.

After getting myself under control though (it took until the next day, to be honest), I instigated the second chance myself and messaged the person who had been spreading rumors to me the day before. I wasn’t as outspoken as I could or should have been; but I told her exactly where I stood and made it clear I didn’t believe a word of anything she had told me.

That was the first time in a long while I have stood up for anything.

The third chance came around, and this time I held nothing back. I forced myself to stay polite, but I challenged this young woman’s statements, told her exactly what I thought and believed, and questioned her.

During that chat, I was scared, yes. But then… after the conversation ended, I realized I felt sort of… relieved, in a way. A bit happy, as it were. I think the reason for that is because I had found the courage to speak my mind, yes—but I also think part of the reason was because I had defended the integrity of someone I cared about.

*smiles a little* There’s nothing quite like it, I don’t think; the feeling you get when you defend a family member or a friend, because you care about them so deeply. I don’t even know how to describe the feeling; just that it’s nice.

Now… that was not the main point of this post. See, I just said all of that to give you a background to go on so I could use myself as an example. The entire thing about me standing up for what I believe in I used because that’s often the only time I find myself getting angry; when defending someone else. Anyway, the main point I was getting at is this:

Yes, it is good to stand up for what you believe in. Yes, it is good to speak your mind. And yes, it is even good to have your own opinions. But you cannot let anger or bitterness catch hold of you when you do or think those things.

I say this because I’m receiving those feelings as well right now. Even now; a good month after the last conversation I had. *wry smile* See, during that third and final confrontation… not only was I slightly scared, I was also angry.

In my head, even now, there’s this nagging feeling of indignance (why is spellcheck telling me that’s not a word? I thought it was…). And I realized that while going through old chat logs yesterday afternoon.

I’m still kind of angry with this person; and it gets worse when I think of all the dreadful claims they make about my brother.

See… I’m struggling to keep the anger down, and keep from messaging this person to confront them again. Because, for one, I’ve already said all that needs saying. Messaging them would serve no purpose but to give me the chance to vent out my anger.

That’s not right. And that’s what I’m trying to explain to you.

Sometimes, a little bit of righteous anger can help you stand strong when you tell someone what you believe in or stand for. But when you’re still bitter and angry about something—anything—weeks after things have settled down… you need to sit yourself down, read your Bible, pray, and have a good think about the situation (as in carefully considering every aspect of it; not dwelling on and mulling over everything that made you angry).

That’s something I plan on doing myself. And I encourage anyone who feels similarly to me to do the same.

The Bible has quite a bit to say about anger, but three verses stood out to me. I’ll comment on them each in turn. The first one was this:

Ephesians 4:26-27 – ‘In your anger do not sin’: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold.

It’s clearly stating that you should not let anger make its home in your heart; if you do, you’re giving the devil more of an opportunity to make you stumble and—in extreme cases—fall. It’s a good principle to keep to—do not let the sun go down before you have made amends and banished the anger from your heart.

Ephesians 4:31-32 – Get rid of all bitterness, rage and anger, brawling and slander, along with every form of malice. Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other just as in Christ God forgave you.

I seem to come back to this verse quite often recently, and with good reason. It’s true, and a very good reminder. You need to get rid of your bitterness and anger, and forgive your enemies; or, those who made you angry in the first place.

Yes, I know it’s hard. I’m still struggling with it myself, remember? But what you need to do is pray—pray for Christ to help you forgive as he forgave.

There was a story I read in my high school curriculum yesterday about Corrie Ten Boom, a Jew who survived being a prisoner in a concentration camp.

She was in a church and speaking a message to the congregation. It ended, and on her way out, a German man walked up to her—and she realized he had been one of the guards from the camp. All sorts of bad and painful memories came rushing back to her.

He told her, “How grateful I am for your message. Fraulein." he said. "To think that, as you say, He has washed my sins away!” Then he held his hand out to her, so that she could shake it.

She froze. And then she realized she couldn’t bring herself to shake his hand. She felt bitterness and anger and vengefulness towards him, and couldn’t let go of those feelings. Here, let me quote what I read in my curriculum:

“And I, who had preached so often to the people in Bloemendaal the need to forgive, kept my hand at my side. Even as the angry, vengeful thoughts boiled through me, I saw the sin of them. Jesus Christ had died for this man; was I going to ask for more? Lord Jesus, I prayed, forgive me, and help me to forgive him. I tried to smile, I struggled to raise my hand. I could not. I felt nothing, not the slightest spark of warmth or charity. And so again I breathed a silent prayer. Jesus, I cannot forgive him. Give me Your forgiveness. As I took his hand the most incredible thing happened. From my shoulder along my arm and through my hand a current seemed to pass from me to him, while into my heart sprang a love for this stranger that almost overwhelmed me. And so I discovered that it is not on our forgiveness any more than on our goodness that the world's healing hinges, but on His. When He tells us to love our enemies, He gives, along with the command, the love itself.”

Amazing!

See? It’s hard. And how much harder must it have been for her to forgive someone who had more than likely caused her and her loved ones so much pain! But with God’s strength, she forgave him, and even felt love towards him.

Pray. It is the most effective weapon you have against every problem in your life.

One last verse before I wrap up this blog post:

James 1:19-20 – My dear brothers, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires.

This one is simple—it tells Christians to listen, think before they speak, and to keep from being angry. And how true it is that man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life God wants from us!

Think about it. What is this anger going to solve? All it will do is eat away at your soul, and eventually cause you to sin. You may speak angrily to the person you’re upset with—and in turn, they’ll most likely become angry with you. Proverbs, chapter fifteen and verse one says, ‘a gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger’. How true this is.

You will speak with anger, and then they will do the same. It will be a neverending cycle of hatred, bitterness, and pain unless both of you can forgive the other.

So, in closing, let me ask you—do you have anyone you’re angry with? That you have unsolved bitterness towards? Think hard before you give a sure answer… and then pray for the strength to forgive that person. It will make you feel so much better, I promise you.

God bless.

~ Theodora Ashcraft

You Can Help

Sometimes, you just feel like you can't help your friends. Everyone has felt like that at one time or another; some more than others. After all, what can you do? You're words on a screen. You can't stop bad things from happening to the ones you love, because you're on opposite sides of the country.

That's not true. Not entirely, anyway. There are things you can do or say. You might not be able to protect them physically, but you can support them emotionally. I've discovered two ways so far.

The first one is to pray. Seriously. God is always listening, and he always has everything under control. Even if it seems like a small thing, pray about it. Pray hard. He's listening, and He knows what to do. Sometimes, it doesn't seem like He is doing anything to help or change the situation. You have to be patient. I know, it might be wrong to use a Lord of the Rings quote in context here, but I think I will. You know how Gandalf said that a wizard was never late, nor was he early? The same is true with God. He never does anything too late or too early--it's always at the perfect time.

He knows all the hurt your friend is going through. And He has a reason for it. He won't give anyone more than they can take—He gives his hardest battles to his toughest soldiers.

The second thing you can do is remind your friend of things. Dreams they have for the future, exciting things they have planned, how much you care about them. Now, I've discovered this completely from experience—when my friends remind me of these things, it makes me feel better inside. That's the problem with society nowadays, I think; people have stopped telling their friends or siblings what really matters. Take it from someone who's been at the bottom before—sometimes, you just need to hear, "I love you" or "You're beautiful/amazing/wonderful" to keep going. Those words have come from my friends at some really dark times in my life, and they helped me to keep fighting.

'Cause you know what? I felt like I had a purpose, or at least an obligation—here were these people, friends and adoptive siblings, and they told me time and time again: "I love you. It's gonna be okay; you can keep going."

Even if ending my story made things better (which, I have to add, it WON'T. It never will, for anyone), I couldn't be that selfish. If I did that, I would be causing anguish to the very people who loved me, and whom I loved back. And so, even if I'm at my lowest, I won't ever do anything. Because each day, I have someone reminding me that they love me. And I'm not going to hurt them by doing something foolish.

My point here is that even if you live miles and miles apart, you can still make a difference. Words are stronger than you realize, whether they're prayers or reminders. The saying "sticks and stones may hurt my bones but words will never hurt me" is a lie.

The fact is, words do hurt. And just as they can hurt, they can heal, too.

So the next time you feel helpless, remember that. Pray for your loved one who's hurting. And remind them that you love them. Words that seem simple and unhelpful to you--whether they be prayers or gentle reminders—aren't so small at all. They could save a life.