Woke

Truth be known I'm 49 and have a ton of stories and stuff.  What stuff, Lord? What will make a impact? Sunday I feel asleep, had a dream, and then woke up.  That happened five times before I got the message.  Share about "the song". 

My senior year of high school my language arts teacher had us write in a spiral notebook daily.  She would give writing prompts; a word, poem, art, or song.  She had us write for five to ten minutes.  It was the first time I had wrote since junior high.  I had to write because it was an "assignment".  

Our teacher shared we could write the same word over and over again.  We could write song lyrics.  We could write about anything or nothing at all but we had to write. The first journal entry is just a page filled with "I don't want to write" repeated over and over again.  The second page was the lyrics to "In My Life" by the Beatles. I repeated the cycle for the whole week and got all my points because I was writing. 

By week three as the teacher gave me mine she said "look at the note".  She had wrote "The Beatles were still a band when I was your age.  Tell me more".  I cleverly wrote the lyrics to "I Am The Walrus" and at the end wrote "Bono is bad". I got my journal the next day and she had wrote "How bad is Bono? Please explain". 

I found the band U2 in Washington DC on a school trip. My roomies were from Lake Oswego, Oregon. They couldn't believe that we hadn't heard of U2. At the end of our trip we were fans.  Leisel gave me her cassette tape of "The Unforgettable Fire" for the plane ride home. I bought the album at Target my first week home.   

I would tell you my fav U2 album is "War". I could tell you "Vertigo" was written for me after I got a concussion....ok, it was released after my concussion.  But, I'm here to be transparent, right?  My fav album would be "Wide Awake in America".  

I played it a handful of times in high school and then not for forty something years.  That album was too personal to me.  The song "Bad" is how I was inspired to write "Bono is bad" in my high school journal.  

The song "Bad" made me cry the first time I heard it.  The words felt like a letter from God to me.  I was this zany little peace punk in high school.  I had began smoking pot daily so I could just feel a lit joy daily.  I had a new flock of friends that were artsy like me.  They were agonized by their family relationships like me. I loved the freedom of expression that pot gave me.  It made me bold.  It made me carefree. It helped me to be invincible against my world.

My friends and I would play a game once sufficiently baked "God Smite Me".  We decided to dare one another to see if God existed and to  see if we could actually make God smite us. Doesn't that sound fun? 

Some of my adventures in "God Smite Me" include;  Lay out in the street as the high school traffic comes over the hill. Jump in front of a car coming down the street. Have a river rat party under the bridge in downtown Des Moines. Hit the graveyard at midnight to summon spirits. Go to churches and poke fun of people worshiping.  

One Friday night we were at a church. One of my childhood friends went there. I didn't know it until she sat beside me and took my hand. She asked to talk to me.  I went to a back pew with her. She told me she had a message from God; "Sherry you know God. God knows you.  He loves you. You were designed to be a leader not a follower. All you need to do is choose Him". I laughed in her face and walked out. 

There was no way that she had a direct connection to God. What a line of garbage. The next week I bought U2's "Wide Awake In America" and listened to "Bad" and thought ; "Jesus, now I'm hearing God too" and cried.  I played that song every day for a week rather than getting stoned.  The lyric "If I could through myself set your spirit free, I'd lead your heart away, See you break away into the light". 

 Ok, God, I think I hear you. The lyrics of the song rolled onto all the things that I felt. It was like God was asking for me to "let it go" ; 

"If I could you know I would

If I could, I would

Let it go...

This desperation

Dislocation

Separation

Condemnation

Revelation

In temptation

Isolate

Desolation

Let it go

And so fade away

To let it go

I'm wide awake
I'm wide awake
Wide awake
I'm not sleeping
Oh, no,no, no

I knew if I let all that go I would be free.  I knew in my heart that I would be free. If I just gave it all to God.  I couldn't.  I had trusted people and they walked out on me. I felt their hypocrisy. I felt scorned, separated, and like God was watching me from way up in his heavenly place and doing nothing.  Those lyrics "I'm wide awake I'm not sleeping" just fueled me to build barriers to protect myself from my family, friends, the world and God.  I played that album for one week and cried out to God to help. When I didn't see Him stop it my barrier got taller and taller until it was a tower.

 I got a copy of U2 "Songs of Experience".  The lyrics hit me like a message from God again. Only this time it inspired me, challenged, and made me think what a long, strange trip I'd been on. How U2 was the soundtrack for my life.  The hubs & I went to Josey records in KC on a date day.  I found a CD of "Wide Awake In America" and wondered where my album was and why didn't I ever play it.  The CD was only a couple of bucks so I bought it. I got in the Sandymobile memories flooded back. It was literally going to be "bad". The hubs went to play it and I said I would rather listen to the radio.

The next week I was driving into KC to teach art class to kids. I was driving listening to CDs in the car. "Bad" came on. I was captivated by the lyrics. I heard Bono give the soulful howl. I realized why when things go totally from bad to worse I howl. Why when I have no words I howl.  I howl because "Bono is bad".  My howls have contained my pain, anguish, and hurt and were directed at God since high school.  Bono was just the songwriter & singer that led to breakthrough of my pain. That is the answer to my high school teacher that I never answered in my journal.

I realized as I heard the lyrics "come on down" that was God's gentle reminder that he just wants us to come to him. As Bono gently croons "come on down" tears flowed. I had finally started to break the wall down a few years ago.  As those bricks broke I was diagnosed with ovarian cancer.  Last year during a prophetic class with my sonshine the tower crumbled.

When I hear the lyrics "I'm not sleeping" I think, yeah,  I'm no sleeping anymore in this life.  I realize that lyric wasn't about an omnipresent God that wanted to see my demise.  It was a call to remove the scales from my eyes, heart, and mind that I would see and know the world like Him.  That I would be present to see others like the Lord.  I would hear others and be their confidant and pray over them to wash them with God's light. My heart would know the wonder of the Lord and what breaks his heart and makes his heart.

I think I always did think, know, see the world in a way like the Lord does.  I'm a hoper; I hope for the best, see the best, and try my best to be kind, compassionate, and love others well.  I knew I wanted to be a teacher at 5 years old. At 40 something I realize God created me to be a teacher, train warriors, mentor, and be a source of His hope and grace. I'm awake.

I never have looked up the song "Bad" to see why it was written.  I didn't need to know because it was God's letter via U2 & Bono to me. It was the letter that I put down in high school.  It was the letter with open invitation to be free but I chose to walk away. It was the letter that was waiting to be received fully until I was fortysomething.

I shared with the school aged kids of TSMKC this spring about the song. Both my darling dot and sonshine were there. I shared that I had a song was like a letter from God to me. I heard it in high school. I listened to it for a week and cried and prayed that God would make my life easier, better, and beautiful. When he didn't I built a wall and then a tower. I told them about buying the CD  and listening to it and how the tower crashed. I realized that I was awake as a light bearer. That God had aligned me to bear his light to them & I was ready to "howl" for joy...which we did.  I let them listen to the song. One of the kids said "Sherry, you know when we howl you howl in whoops like that singer".  That's because I'm awake and not sleeping was my reply.

The words; classic punk, mystery of faith, and polarity. Those are all words that popped into my journal this week as I struggled to write this. Polarity came this morning which is the struggle between two forces that want to connect together; like magnets. Isn't that absolutely what this blog is about? Me living in the world and building a wall that turned into a tower so as not to get hurt and not fully connect to God. I love that worldly "polarity" has kept me dragging around a tower for years. It gives me perspective when I write, when I talk to others, and inspires me to be bold. My tower is shattered how about yours?  May you start to take down your wall, shattering bricks each day.  I know its hard but to be a beloved daughter or son you have to live free.  That means no more bricks, no more towers. That scales from the walls & towers would be shed that our eyes would see, ears would listen, and hearts would know.  Then we are truly wide awake, not sleeping and it's not bad.

Peace be with ...may you walk in the "Son" shine - Sherry

Updates;

• Bold Streak; I've reached out asking for help to get all our gear to Wagner, South Dakota this summer.  If you have a truck or trailer or both and would like a road trip to help me get all the donations and art supplies there for me on my mission trip that would be remarkable. I will be there July and part of August and I know there is too much for the Sandymobile to carry.  Pray for provision and gentleness to prevail. 
• Dale shared his "rocks" with the kids at gathering last week.  We shared about the Holy Spirit and he shared his billions and billions year old oceanic wave rock from Missouri...hard to believe we were once an ocean.  He will be sharing that message with TSMKC kids on June 5 without his mama; pray for confidence, grace, and light to shine with him. If you would like him to come share with a group of kiddos or adults he would.  Just message us. 
• Emily broke her glasses after a seizure a couple of months ago.  She duct taped them together. We kind of forgot about them with her epilepsy. Yesterday, she ordered a new pair of glasses. And, we found an optician that takes her insurance. 
• Pray for Emily that she be healed. Pray over her as she works to get her financial aid released. She has been calling trying to get figure it out.  If you pray for her process, tenacity, and favor of our Heavenly Father to clear this obstacle. She wants to go to NWMSU this fall to finish her degree in counseling. 
• We are cleaning our garage so that I can have ; a spot for parents to sit & hangout while their kids are in art classes, for a maker space for The Artroom, and so that I can pull in the Sandymobile in the garage in the winter. Pray for ; Emily, Dale, and I as we spend the next couple of weeks on the project. 
• I'd like to sell of my Etsy stash to help me fund The Artroom, my home art studio, where I do kids & adult classes.  If you like vintage or sell it message me.  Items will be ; $1-$10.  
• As we clean out the garage we will be donating and giving things away. If you are a crafty sort and would like some free wood please message me. 

Turn To Stone

Constructive destruction is what I can use to describe being sobered up to reality, what God intends, and your ability to see the world with his blinders. Constructive destruction wrecks what you thought you knew of God, what you thought you know of yourself, and the world.  It wrecks the walls that you've built up to keep the outside out.  It smashes the emotions that you've bottled up for years. And, it gives life to the ashes so they swirl around you to encounter Him.

I wrote that last year.  The Lord was moving in me to start to write again but I was bogged down by the weight of his request. It would require me to be more transparent and vulnerable.  I wasn't ready. Truth be told I wasn't ready to write this one until last night when I woke up with what felt like an anxiety attack. As I tried to steady my breathing tears started to gently fall.  I took a deep breath and got my sketchpad & began to draw.

I was in seventh grade and things were changing rapidly.  I went to junior high after being at the same elementary school from kindergarten through sixth grade.  MTV was brand new and I walked home with my friends with cable TV just to watch the latest videos...ahh, the joys of being a tween and watching Duran Duran.

I was walking home with my friends one afternoon when my brother came rolling by and yelled at me to get in the car.  I said I wanted to walk with my friends.  He insisted that I get in the car, stopped it, and got out and shoved me in and took off.  He started rambling, yelling at me, and calling me horrible things.  He scared me. He was drunk.

My brother was my defender until that day.  Sure we argued, fought, and had sibling rivalry but I always knew he had my back. That day I found out how angry he was with me. He yelled at me that I had ruined his life. Told me he wished I was dead.  He pinned me to the wall and began to beat me.  I knee'ed him and ran to my room and locked the door.  I tried to call my dad but my brother had taken the downstairs phone off the hook. My brother got to my door and began to fumble with the key. I remember he kept getting it open and I would push the button to lock it. I remember crying and being scared.  I remember he finally gave up when my dad pulled int he driveway.

I told my mom on the ride to school the next morning. She told me that I was exaggerating and needed to give my brother grace.  It hurt me that she thought I was exaggerating. It hurt me that my words had no merit, no value, and no worth.  She wasn't going to help me.

This cycle of my brother picking me drunk from school continued. I started to hangout with a new circle of friends.  My old friends knew what was going on and had seen it.  They asked questions that I didn't want to answer.  It came to a head one afternoon when I actually got to walk home without my brother.  I was in the kitchen when his car pulled in and before I could blink he was in my face, screaming at me, and drug me to the gas stove.  As he turned on the burner he grabbed me head and told me "your face isn't gonna be so pretty anymore" and shoved my head near the burner.

I kicked him and grabbed a bottle of cleaner from the sink. I yelled for him to stay away but he didn't. I sprayed the cleaner in his face and kept spraying it until he yelled and ran for the sink to flush his eyes.  I ran outside and just started running down the street to get away and he was right behind me yelling.  I ran and as I got to my friends house her mom was pulling into the driveway.  She saw what was happening and yelled for me to get in her house and lock the doors.  She told my brother he couldn't have me.  She told him she would call the police. She took a stand for me.

I called my dad and he came and got me.  He let me confide what was going on and that I wasn't alone.  He gave me permission to hangout at my friends houses and not come home.  He made a plan with me about how to avoid my brother.  But it didn't always work and my brother continued to verbally and physically abuse me.

I was 12.  I was ashamed.  I believed that I was "exaggerating" and that I deserved all the anger my brother had for me.  I started to believe that I had ruined his life by being born. That I was a worthless. And, that he and my family would be better without me.  I started to write in a spiral notebook what was going on daily to document and confide to God.  God wasn't stopping my brother from drinking but I prayed for that in my spiral.  God didn't stop my mom from calling me a liar and telling me to treat my brother better and he wouldn't be angry but I prayed she would know and believe me.  God wasn't stopping all the thoughts of being worthless but I wrote prayers to God to show me my value. 

I was worthless and if my parents didn't protect me why would I confide in friends.  Instead, I turned my back to my old friends from grade school and turned to new friends. My new friends knew that pain of ; worthlessness, being alone, and burdened.  It was a presence of despair.  That spring I took three bottles of Benedryl and prayed to God to forgive me but I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to come home, Heavenly Father.

That afternoon my brother came home. He wasn't drunk. He saw the bottles in the bathroom trash and went to check his sister.  What he found was a very, very tired sister. From what I know my mom came home shortly after and he ran to her.  My mom was a nurse. She mixed raw eggs in a glass as my brother got me to the toilet. I collapsed there and she got me alert enough to make me drink the eggs and start to vomit.  She kept making me drink the eggs until I couldn't vomit anymore.  She told me she was mandated to take me to the hospital. She started to cry and told me how I had embarrassed her and put shame on our family.

Instead of taking me to the hospital she called her friend who was a psychologist. They talked and she took me to him the next day.  I told him that I didn't want to live.  I told him about my brother.  And, he talked to my mom before letting me leave. I went back to see him for a few weeks daily after school.  My mom or my brother would drop me off and pick me up.  We got far enough along that he asked for my family to come in for a counseling session.

He allowed me to tell my family what was going on, to share my pain, and emotions. My mom crumbled in tears. My dad looked at me and said " You are an embarrassment you couldn't even kill yourself next time do the job right or stop this".  My dad walked out and my brother followed him with my mom chasing after both of them trying to reason with them.

I was left alone.  I used my words and they had no power.  I shared my emotions and they were trampled.  I got mocked and ridiculed in that office.  I shut down my emotions that day.  Emotions make you feel and hurt.  I was done hurting. I prayed and told God that no more was I going to be used and left vulnerable. I was done.  I knew that God was supposed to be powerful but He did nothing to help me.

My dad's words from that day still burden my heart. Even in adulthood I hear them when I'm stressed and don't know how to make things better.  The sweet blessing is that I realize Jesus Christ was with me as my BFF back then.  I realize that my Heavenly Father had premise and purpose over me that he sent my brother and mom that day to be his hands and feet.

 He's takes my heart of stone and channels it to glorify Him through total transparency through this blog.  He created me to bear his light, to teach, to train warriors. He gave me perspective with what happened to me in junior high. He gifts me promise and purpose through using my words to write. He gifts promise an purpose when I'm draw.  I see what writing and art have done for me and know that is how I'm to bear His light to the world.

I played my ELO record in my kids art class as they drew cosmic rainbows.  It seemed like the perfect background sound for the class.  The song "Turn to Stone" is on that album.  It reminded me that I tried to turn my heart to stone so that I wouldn't hurt, I wouldn't feel, and so I could cope.

It reminded me of when Jesus was coming through Jerusalem at Passover and everyone was cheering and going crazy for him. The leaders told him to make the people stop and he said that if he did even the rocks would praise him.  Even when we think we have closed our emotions off & built stone walls those walls still blaze with his light. The things that we protect and hide from the world roll like stones when we choose Christ as our Savior and believe it as truth.

Here's a glimpse of me crumbling as the stone walls that I've built start to crumble with God's light and intensity.  I can say yes I was going to give up at 12 but God said no.

I was supposed to be named Cherie when I was born.  Long story short my mom didn't know how to spell Cherie so she guessed and wrote Sherry on my birth certificate.  When my dad saw it he said "Well, she's Sherry now".  I'm on the leadership team of TSMKC. We were to be crowned by Sisters of Crown this spring.  They had us share about our names and if we knew the meanings.  I shared that about my name, that it is biblical as the "dry wine".  I shared that I have a dry sense of humor at times and I can whine like nobody's business. I shared about how I got the name Sherry rather Cherie and sat down.  One of the Sisters of the Crown looked at me and said "Do you know what Cherie means in french". I told her no.  She said "it means beloved, Sherry, no matter the spelling God claimed you as beloved at birth".  The rest of my rocks that I had fell that night at Christ's feet.

He claimed and called me since my birth. The Earth knew I was his beloved because of my name.  I want you to know that you were called "beloved" at your birth by a Heavenly Father that doesn't say you are an embarrassment but his beloved.  You are a gem in his crown. Since my crowning I've been writing about being a ruby.  What are gem are you today? How can you shine with light and be grace and hope to the world. My blog is how I choose to shine the brightest today. 

Peace be with you- Sherry

UPDATES;

• Continue to pray healing over Emily. No more seizures no more epilepsy only purity and tenacity remain. That her brain be healed and be reconnected so that her memory is restored so she can retain information. That she would return to college this fall and finish her degree to be a counselor and go into mission work with children and families. 
• Pray over my ability to earn form art classes enough for my trip to Wagner, South Dakota this summer. I will be spending my time between Wagner and Marty teaching art classes to kids at Boys and Girls Clubs.  I will be teaching adult art classes in the evenings at the Wagner center and at All Tribes Fellowship.  If you would like donate gas money and help me build an emergency fund contact me. I know I will need help but am faithful that I'm going with God's premise. 
• Dale is moving back from college this weekend.  Pray for bubble wrap of protection over him. 
• This blog is exactly why it is so dear and dire in my heart to have a tween/teen art class monthly at my art studio.  I want my studio to a creative sanctuary for teens that I didn't have.  One of the best comments from a teen from last month's class was "Sherry I don't know you but I like your vibe". 
• Pray over my art studio that it would serve my community with light, grace, and hope.  I see it becoming a beacon of hope to kids, teens, and adults.  
• I'm going to offer a "caregiver" class for those that are caring for ill family members or are ill this month.  I know how creativity helped me get through chemo and radiation and blessed my kids too.  That class will start this month at my studio please let me know if you are interested.  It will be free but you can give me a "tip" in my tip jar to help me continue.