The Divorcing Series: Stringing Nets By Cortney Donelson

There are times when I read something, and it sticks to me like honey. Or, I see something that I just can’t get out of my head. Sometimes, I hear something that rings in my soul long after the actual words penetrated my eardrums. 

The most recent “something” was a sentence from a novel. It came from a fictional story, but oh the power of these words! 

Life has taught us to string nets beneath our hopes.

The author of these words is Ian Caldwell, and he is correct. This past year of my life has been surreal – in a great way. My marriage has become a safe haven, one that I treasure and am running towards for affection, approval, and some plain old fun. My kids are growing up fast, but I can see how a Heavenly Father. whom they are learning to trust implicitly, is molding them. Messy school situations have quieted as we settle into our routines; boy and girl are finally happily learning in their respective environments. My four (thousand) roles are carrying on as if I have actually cloned myself. In reality, I’ve learned how to step away from performance and perfection and just be. My book is scheduled to launch in bookstores in March. I am feeling quite content.

But... (There’s always a but, isn’t there?) In all my newly found authenticity, I will admit to you that my content is likely caused by this good life. Truthfully, I don’t believe I would be so satisfied – so grateful – right now if things were a little rockier. 

I imagine this because there lurks something not so beautiful in this life where everything is lovely. It’s called skepticism or doubt. Perhaps even cynicism. 

Past experiences have left cracks in our souls. Our thoughts, feelings, and choices have been tainted by life lived in a fallen world. We have all been hurt – some deeply. Those we love have disappointed us. Most of us have experienced rejection, abandonment, or neglect. Life has taught us that while trust and respect are earned, they can also be ripped away in an instant. Our difficult journeys have shown us that just when we believe our lives are wonderful or even secure, rugs can be suddenly ripped out. Houses can fall. Families can implode. Health can fail. Grief can descend like an avalanche, and trauma can be seconds away. 

This leaves us with a desire to string nets – safety nets that will catch our dreams and sustain our hope when we are cracked wide open by events or even people. These nets come in many forms: walled up hearts, a lack of authenticity, plans B, C, and D, excuses, self-condemnation, and even addictions.

Within that longing to string nets, we find the doubt that lurks beneath. There is uncertainty snaking through our world, perpetuated by the devil. It's the message that God is not good. From the beginning of the human race, the enemy’s goal has been to cause us to question God’s sovereignty and goodness. We have become skeptical about even the possibility of experiencing a joy that endures our circumstances. So, how do we overcome this pervasive doubt? After all, we don’t want to live devoid of genuine hope. We surely don’t want to wilt under the enemy’s lies as we furiously string up false security beneath our faith.

Hope in our culture has become a synonym to a second word: wish. I hope it doesn’t rain. My kids hope there is a snow day. I hope we win the lottery. As Christians, we must abandon this worldly idea of hope and instead anchor ourselves in the hope of Christ. This biblical hope is the sturdy root system of the towering oaks named joy and peace. Hope is the conviction that this world is not our permanent home, these circumstances are not the whole of our stories, and even our deepest cracks are temporary. Hope is the unwavering faith in the Kingdom of Heaven and in the character of God.  

So, while life here demonstrates to us that disasters do strike, people can hurt us, and we will experience pain and disappointment, we do not have to rely on unhealthy or ungodly safety nets. As the enemy whispers the age-old lie that God is not good, we can confidently throw up our hand and turn away. When life begs us to string nets to protect our dreams, our hearts, and our possessions, we can instead position our souls to rely on the hope that surpasses understanding, the hope who is Love. 

When we become anchored in the hope of Christ, we finally realize we don’t need to string nets ... our hope is in Him, the perfect fisher of men and women. 

Prayer: Father God, You are the one true God, the only One from whom lasting hope, peace, and love come. While circumstances will seem to break us, we know that as long as we are anchored in your hope, in Your Son, we don’t need to string safety nets to catch our hearts. You are the anchor we need to trust. For that we are forever grateful.  In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen. 

Influenced by my prayer life, Hebrews 6:19, Romans 15:13, 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, the book The Fifth Gospel by Ian Caldwell, and my book Clay Jar, Cracked: When We’re Broken But Not Shattered. 

©2012-2016 Cortney Donelson. All rights reserved.

Cortney's book, Clay Jar, Cracked: When We're Broken But Not Shattered is available now at www.cortneydonelson.com! It will be available world-wide in bookstores and libraries through Morgan James Publishing when publicly released on March 7, 2017. Visit www.cortneydonelson.com for more information and to learn about the "I'm a Clay Jar" Encourager Class for groups! To schedule speaking engagements, please email Cortney directly. 

When I Constantly Do the Same Kind of Wrong By Cortney Donelson

Image Cred: Namito Kiwa

Matthew Henry (Bible commentary writer extraordinaire) once wrote, “Every temptation to draw us from duty, should quicken us the more to duty.”

For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it. (Romans 7:18-20)

Sometimes, I just want to punch myself. Remember the scene from the movie Liar, Liar when Jim Carrey's character beats himself up in the restroom? Like that.  

It seems to me from this passage from the Book of Romans that Paul was frustrated with himself at times, too. I appreciate Paul sharing his internal conflict, for try as I might to stop or change certain behaviors, I continue to wrestle with myself.  I know that I can be prideful. Many times, I’m unkind and impatient. Sometimes, I don’t even like people. Not just some people. All people. That’s when I know for sure I’m in a rotten place. I battle with these flaws, weaknesses, and dishonoring characteristics. And, through the work of the Holy Spirit dwelling within me, I have seen changes. Over time, I am becoming more Christ-like in these areas. Though, make no mistake, I have quite a journey to go.

There is one area, unfortunately, where I am not seeing much change yet. The enemy keeps slithering in to wreak havoc. It’s that button of mine that when pushed, renders me stupid. I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. It’s where I continue to fall pray to the devil’s schemes. 

I say “yes.” And, I know why I do. It’s not that I can’t say “no.” In fact, I have learned how to say “no” very well. No, I can’t meet for coffee. No, I would not like to give to that cause today. No, I will not stand by and tolerate that behavior. No, I don't agree with you. No problem. 

My button is the “I want to be important” button. It’s a hot one. When that button is pressed, there is no telling what I will say yes to. Yes, I will take that leadership role. Yes, I can do that for you but only because you are so nice and tell me I would be great at it. Why, thank you for the compliment, and of course I can add that responsibility to my already full plate. After all, I thirst for approval and recognition. So much so that when my “I feel important” button is pushed, I’ll do just about anything you ask!! < Insert punch to throat. >

I lost count the number of times I have told myself that I will be intentionally focused on the work God has me doing. Then, I get distracted. Immeasurable are the times I have set my schedule to allow for rest, reflection, and quiet times to fill me up, but then I compromise those blocks of time. I know I must say more of what Nehemiah said to those who aimed to distract him from building the wall. I am involved in a great work. I cannot come.  

Despite my head knowledge, these are the thoughts that creep in and destroy my loyalty to pursuing God’s will for me (being so transparent here, so please offer me three or four tons of grace):

I like being considered the “go to person.”

I want to be needed by others. 

I want to be important in other people’s eyes. 

I like making decisions. 

I like feeling successful in every worldly sense of the word.

I like being a leader. 

I want to make a lasting difference.  (This one is actually good, but sometimes I question my motive.)

I try to convince others and myself that I don’t seek out approval from anyone above God, but that is obviously a lie. Wanting approval from others is fine. My problem is that my need for approval from others is distracting me from God. Just as a drug addict continues to depress the syringe despite the harm, I continue to give in to pride as compliments fuel my self-worth. So, I keep saying yes. It’s maddening. With each stroke of my ego, I bend my priorities to feed my insecurities rather than bend my heart towards God’s direction and purpose for me. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. The enemy knows that if he keeps me busy with good things and lofty goals, I won’t have time for the best things, the things for which I was created for in the first place. When we do not live out our true identities in Christ, we are susceptible to manipulation. As it turns out, Paul was right. My flesh – even my heart – is wicked apart from Christ’s love and power. 

Jesus came to serve, not be served. The Lord teaches that those who are last will be first. I am only going to become a difference maker in the truest and noblest sense of the word if I face this prideful desire to feel important, stare down the enemy, don the armor of God, and keep my priorities in order. I must die to myself in order to fully live. I must say no even when my sinful nature urges me to say yes. The truth is, if I prioritize God’s yeses for my life, I will be making the greatest possible impact in this world and truly feel the weighty importance of living out my divine purpose. Then, in the end, perhaps I will hear the ultimate phrase of approval any one of us can receive: “Well done my good and faithful servant.”  All this I know... so did Paul. 

And for your own secret hot buttons, so do you...

Prayer: Father God, thank You for inspiring Paul to include this heartfelt struggle in his letter to the Romans. The struggle is real! All of us are engaged in an internal battle. Some button is being pushed. Some sinful thought pattern or behavior remains within, ensnaring our hearts and rendering us incomplete. I pray against the enemy’s schemes to keep us trapped in our sinful natures. I pray the Holy Spirit continues its work in me – in all of us believers – as we wrestle with our innermost buttons. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen. 

Influenced by my prayer life, Romans 7:18-20, Nehemiah 6:3, Psalms 25:8-9, Isaiah 5:15, Matthew 20:6, Jeremiah 17:9, Ephesians 4:21, Ephesians 6:11, James 4:7, One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp, Interrupted: When Jesus Wrecks Your Comfortable Christianity by Jen Hatmaker, and the struggles within my soul. 

©2012-2016 Cortney Donelson. All rights reserved.

Cortney's book, Clay Jar, Cracked: When We're Broken But Not Shattered is available now at www.cortneydonelson.com! It will be available world-wide in bookstores and libraries through Morgan James Publishing when publicly released on March 7, 2017. Visit www.cortneydonelson.com for more information and to learn about the "I'm a Clay Jar" Encourager Class for groups! To schedule speaking engagements, please email Cortney directly. 

The Divorcing Series: Coloring Inside the Lines By Cortney Donelson

Image cred: www.quiltershomemag.com

I return to the Divorcing Series for an intimately personal story. I am always hesitant to share anything about my children. In fact, I’m still not sure I will. I may just be writing this for my own internal wrestling match – to see where I land, to find out what victory might look like. So, here we go...

Each of my children is young yet mature in their own little behaviors. They are childish in ways that prevent them from always expressing themselves and their feelings appropriately (aren’t we all?). Yet, they are old enough to experience and understand struggles and perhaps more importantly, shame. Old enough to care what other people think about them. Old enough to feel the temptation to hide and hope their struggles away. Certainly old enough to occasionally wish they were different...

And, that last one is what’s truly tearing me apart. 

I rarely share about my children because the stories are categorically theirs to tell, not mine. Both of my children were adopted. If you ask me about their histories or struggles, I won’t tell you much. I’m not being timid or even difficult. I am protecting my kids. I’m guarding their privacy. It’s ultimately up to each of them what pieces they want to share and what they want to keep between them and the One who created them. So, it is with much prayer, thought, and permission from my child that I share this story. 

At a shockingly young age, my son created a map of the United States by drawing the outline of each state on a full 8 ½ x 11 piece of colored construction paper, cutting it out, and then fitting them all together like a puzzle on his bedroom floor. His final creation exceeded 100 square feet. This venture took him almost four hours to complete. I had no idea this was his afternoon project, so after the first hour, I went to check on him to determine why he had been so quiet. When I walked into his room and discovered this particular mission and how he had already drawn nearly a dozen states using a book he had found, I immediately texted my husband. 

I don’t know how to parent this child. 

My son was three. 

There were signs even before this of what was to come. At 18 months old, while still learning English (he was born in Russia), he started matching car makes and models with their respective logos on the cars we would pass on the road. At age two and a half, he asked me, “Mom, if God is so big, how can He fit in our hearts?” Then at age four, my dad and his golfing buddies stopped by our house, and my son proceeded to have an in depth discussion with one of them about current events and computers. By age five, he had traveled to four continents and experienced various cultures. Finally, I’ll share that at age nine, he wrote a children’s book. 

There were other things we noticed, too. He would cover his ears in restaurants, have trouble falling asleep at night because his brain wouldn’t “shut off,” resist going to movie theatres, and talk incessantly. On one road trip to Philadelphia, he asked me to turn off the radio within the first 15 minutes, and then my son told me stories for the entire eight-and-a-half hour trip. 

It was obvious; our son was a profound thinker, highly sensitive, and wildly creative. I loved it all. However, these wonderful characteristics came with a complicated price. When he entered kindergarten, he found himself forced into a box that he just wouldn’t – couldn’t – fit. He failed to sit still. He doodled and daydreamed throughout the day. Socially, he struggled. He wasn’t coordinated, and he didn’t like sports. Other kids started to notice his quirkiness. He grappled with group activities, lacking any understanding about compromise. His internal “right versus wrong” scale was tipped precariously towards him being always right. Yet, most of the kids were still young enough so they didn’t truly mind. But, the teachers and administrators... They made it clear that my son was not coloring inside the lines. 

The first year of school was not going well. My son was in and out of the principal’s office. My kindergartener had become the usual suspect. His typical crimes? Not following directions. Putting his hands on the walls. Talking during lunch. (No. No, this isn’t military school I’m describing.) Seriously. 

Then one day, I lost all faith in the public school system. The class had celebrated the teacher’s birthday with cupcakes. Every student received one. Well, everyone but one (I tell you this with scorn pouring over my keyboard). The teacher put my son’s cupcake on the countertop at the back of the classroom, and in front of everyone, she told him that he didn’t deserve it and couldn’t eat it. He watched while every other student ate his and her cupcake. I cannot explain the outrage I felt. Administration did nothing.

We yanked him out of kindergarten a week early. The principal’s response: “The public school system works for 80% of the population.” Period. End of story. My son was not in the 80%. “Good-bye and good luck” were her final words.

I wanted to shout from the school rooftop: HE’S A GREAT KID! HE’S DOING HIS VERY BEST! Much later down the education road, it would be proven: he really was doing his best. As one doctor put it, “Multistep, verbal directions become lost in the sea that is his massive brain.” It was a neurobiological matter. Not a defiant personality flaw. I wanted to go back in time and rub the report in the public school teacher and administrators’ faces. Not a very Christian-like response. I know. Unfortunately, I’m not yet sorry. And, for that, I continue my internal wrestle. 

I struggled with all this immensely. My son... the one with the big heart, the one who gave his size 5T jacket to an adult neighbor when he mentioned he was chilly one night, the one who’s vocabulary was off the charts, the one who laughed uncontrollably at the puffins at the zoo when they dipped their heads under the water causing everyone else there to start laughing with him ... my son was wired differently. And, no one seemed to appreciate that but our own close-knit family.

He was wired differently, and he didn’t care. 

That was so significant because his own mom had begun to doubt God’s plan for him. But then... God began to prove to me through watching and raising my son that success is not based on others’ standards and certainly not culture’s benchmarks. He was about to teach me a certain measure of freedom in not just knowing this, but living it out. BELIEVING IT. The Lord wanted me to let go of what other’s thought of my family, my son, our choices, and me. He wanted me to learn that in order for the Holy Spirit to transform me from the inside out, I would have to let go of the outside world and focus inward. God knew in His wise timing that He had to teach me this while my children were young. For soon, they wouldn’t be young anymore. Their whimsical and carefree attitudes would change. Dang it, but the world would start to matter to them. As with us all, the pull of expectations and need for acceptance can cause us to forget who we are in Christ and why we are here on earth if we’re not careful. Aloneness creeps in and settles down. And, very soon, what I had learned from my son when he was five – loving the person God created him to be and shaking off the judgments, criticism, and labels – I would one day have to turn around and teach back to him. 

That one day has come...

Prayer: Lord, thank you for my family, my children. Thank you that they don’t fit in the box. I love how they color outside the lines. But, oh, how I need you near as I parent them in this world. So many don’t appreciate those who are different. I pray You draw near to us and hold us when others lack understanding and compassion. In Jesus’ name, I pray. Amen. 

Influenced by my prayer life, parenting life, 1 Peter 2:9, Psalm 139:13, Romans 12:2, Psalm 91:2, Romans 12:6-8, Ephesians 2:10, and Jeremiah 29:11. 

©2012-2016 Cortney Donelson. All rights reserved.

Cortney's book, Clay Jar, Cracked: When We're Broken But Not Shattered is available now at www.cortneydonelson.com! It will be available world-wide in bookstores and libraries through Morgan James Publishing when publicly released on March 7, 2017. Visit www.cortneydonelson.com for more information and to learn about the "I'm a Clay Jar" Encourager Class for groups! To schedule speaking engagements, please email Cortney directly.