Critty Joy

Journey With :: Joanne Sher

I am so thrilled to introduce you to this month's guest on Journey With!  Dear Joanne is one of my favorite people...she is such an encourager and loves her friends so much...I am so blessed to call her friend! :o)  I found Joanne's post so great for this last month of the year as most people start researching Judaism because of Hanukkah and Christians set aside a day to celebrate our Savior.  So enjoy part of Joanne's journey today with these two elements....

 

I didn’t have much experience with Christianity as a kid. I was Jewish, Bat Mitzvahed at 13, born and raised in Los Angeles. Though my high school wasn’t closed for Jewish holidays, a quarter of the students were absent for the High Holy Days.

My father was raised an orthodox Jew; my maternal grandfather was a former cantor; my great aunt still kept kosher. My Jewish roots ran deep, and were important to me.

I do remember, however, my first church service. I was eight, and we were visiting my aunt and her family. I don’t remember too much, but I recall the pastor saying something disparaging about Jews, causing me to run out, quite upset. I did not enter a church again for 10 years.

The next one was Catholic. I was in college, dating a Catholic who brought me to Mass. I remember looking up at the front of the church, seeing the crucifix, and feeling more uncomfortable than I ever had before. I kept my eyes down for the rest of the service. That cross haunted me for quite a while.

I had other minor "encounters" with Christianity, but it wasn’t until I was married and living in the Midwest twelve years later that the cross grabbed my attention again.

My husband was nominally Jewish and we both followed our faith for a while. We soon stopped attending synagogue, however, neither of the local ones being to our liking. We still celebrated the major holidays, but nothing more.

I was working as a freelance writer for the local daily paper, and the religion editor called and asked if I would cover a Christian women’s conference the following Saturday. I agreed skeptically, assuming it would be a bunch of fake, mushy women screaming "Hallelujah" and praising God for their wonderful lives.

Was I ever wrong.

The moment I walked into the arena, I felt a camaraderie among the women there, and a peace I simply couldn’t explain. The speakers, who I normally would have dismissed as hokey, resonated with me, and I felt myself filled with the same camaraderie and peace as those around me. I didn’t want to leave.

Unfortunately, I had no choice - I had a deadline to meet! And, as I left the building to walk the three blocks to the newspaper office, I felt that peace leave me just as suddenly as it arrived.

A myriad of questions ran through my mind.

What did those women have that I didn’t?

Could I find that kind of peace in Judaism if I was more devout, or was this a Christian phenomenon?

I decided I needed to start this quest of mine with my own faith. I found my copy of the Hebrew Bible and read the entire Old Testament from beginning to end in two weeks. I also typed out about 20 pages of notes.

Those two weeks brought several things to light, including my lack of obedience to God’s laws, and the emphasis throughout the Old Testament on vengeance and justice.

I knew what I had to do next. I began reading the New Testament. And there, it seemed, were answers to all my questions, comfort from all my fears. I finished the NT in another week, and added another dozen pages of notes to my collection.

Yet, I had some serious misgivings. I saw Jesus as a wonderful man, someone to emulate, but as God? As Messiah? My Jewish background and teachings were digging at me - "God is One," "Christ was a Jew-hater," and other mantras reverberated in my mind. I MIGHT be able to accept Jesus as Lord, but Savior?

Still, I started attending a bible-believing church, and began reading the bible through again. I got many new revelations on the Old Testament the second time through, but none as monumental as the one I received about 5 months after the women’s conference, from Isaiah.

But he was wounded because of our sins,

Crushed because of our iniquities.

He bore the chastisement that made us whole,

And by his bruises we were healed.

Isaiah 53:5 JPS

There it was, in black and while - in the Hebrew Scriptures: Christ’s death on the cross as payment for my sins. At this point, I had no choice. I embraced the cross, and have never turned back.

And that was twelve years ago. And still I am healed by his bruises, and his chastisement made me whole. And I am living for Him.

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Joanne Sher is a wife, mother of two, and devoted lover of Jesus. She was saved out of Judaism a decade ago and has a passion for writing, encouraging others in the Lord, and caring for her family. A writer by calling, she enjoys writing short pieces, at her blog An Open Book, as well as at the womens’ devotional site Internet Cafe Devotions and the Midwestern group blog The Barn Door.

She is currently working on her first novel, a Biblical fiction work set during King Saul's reign, and focusing on the handmaiden of Saul's youngest daughter Michal. She is also preparing her first manuscript-- Ailing Body, Nourished Soul, a non-fiction book on God’s workings through her husband’s serious health issues--for pitching. Joanne loves to write short fiction that glorifies God, and has several other novel ideas on the back burner.

 

As always comments are closed today so you can go encourage Joanne on her blog!

Journey With.... Jen Ferguson

Today's Journey With.... features Jen Ferguson.  Jen blogs at Finding Heaven and has been a great encouragement to me over the last few months.  Enjoy a part of her journey below...

 

Dots and Stars

 
Max Lucado wrote a children’s book entitled You are Special.  The basic premise of the book is this:  You are special because God made you and nothing that anybody says or doesn’t say can change that simple fact. 

I think this adult needs this lesson just as much as kids.

If you don’t know the story, Punchinello spends the first part of the book despondent because the other Wemmicks (the wooden people all made by Eli) continually place gray dot stickers on him because his faults, his failures, his never-measure-ups.  He longs to have someone, anyone, give him a golden star instead.  The people who receive stars are those who are the models of perfection.  They are the ones who achieve, who are beautiful, who are successful in all they do.  He tarries on this way until he meets Lucia.  Lucia does not have any stickers, not because people don’t give them to her, but because they don’t stick. In short, she does not internalize worldly acclamation or condemnation. She simply relies on her Father to supply for her a sense of worth.

I am not like Lucia.  

The world probably sees me as one with a myriad of stars, but a lot of the time, all I see are my gray dots.  As much as I would like to be immune to criticism and praise alike, I find myself continually shaped by the lens through which other people view me.  Recently, I felt God calling me to give up my leadership of our women’s Bible study.  I announced my resignation, prayed for my replacement, and waited for someone to step forward.  

And she did.  The group made some changes.  They decided what to do next semester.  They moved on.

They moved on.  Without me.  

In the moment, I should have been completely grateful that the group I had led for four years was not going to die.  I should have lifted my voice in praise to my Heavenly Father who HAD ANSWERED MY PRAYER.  Instead, these are the thoughts that ran through my head:  I was replaceable.  Gray dot.  They made changes because what I did wasn’t good enough.  Gray dot.  Maybe I should have just exited a long time ago.  Gray dot.
The most depressing thing about this whole thought process is that it wasn’t my friends putting these stickers on me.  In fact, if anything, they had given me stars – thanking me for my service, for my friendship, for my leadership.  The point is, all the dots, self-imposed or not, and all the freely given stars shouldn’t have mattered.  The entire time (hopefully), I was doing what I felt led by God to do.  I did the best I could.  I loved, I shared, I planned, I cried, I led.  I did it for God and I did it for His daughters.  And then it was time to let somebody else “do.”  End of story.

What I do and how I do it does not define who I am.  It doesn’t add or take away from my “specialness.”  I can invest myself into something, but the something does not become a reflection of me.  If I continually seek to find my worth in my own abilities, talents, and actions, I will always find a way to place a gray dot upon my forehead.

So, what is the answer?  How do I escape the lure of the stars and the stigma of the gray dot?  I must trust.  The more I trust God to fill me, sustain me, to just love me, the less I will be concerned about the stickers.  I will extend the same grace to myself that my God extends to me.  When I fail, I will remind myself that God does not waste any experiences and He can redeem anything for His glory.  Because, honestly, whether I succeed or whether I fail, everything I do must be for His glory alone.

To hear Max Lucado’ book, please visit here.

Visit Jen at Finding Heaven.

About Jen Ferguson:

Jen Ferguson is a woman who does not know how to function without Jesus, her iPhone, or chai lattes. She is a marathoner who spends most of her days chasing after her two little girls and all the duties of her two part-time jobs. She is a woman who is fitting more comfortably in the robes of grace and who is shirking off the cloak of perfectionism.

 

***Comments are closed so that you can go visit the author's blog.

***If you would like to be featured on Journey With.... email me and I will send you the information!

Journey With :: Are You Interested?

Okay Peaches,

I need YOUR help :)

In order to continue with my Journey With feature I need bloggers/nonbloggers who are willing to share their stories here on Critty Joy Blog.  

I was hoping to feature 2 stories each month but was only able to feature one in September. I really want this to be a place where we can come together and encourage and love one another on our journeys.

If you would be interested in sharing your story here would you please comment below...you can just say I'm interested!  (I will have your email address from the information you provide when you comment)

I will then email you with the details.  You can share any part of your journey you would like!

So would you think and pray about sharing part of your journey here?

 

Thanks dearest ones.

 

Journey With :: Ruth Hill

Welcome to our first Journey With.... feature!  I love hearing about other's journeys and want to feature other's as they journey.  We can learn so much and encourage one another in our stories.

(A special thank you to Ruth for being the first to take part of this special feature!  After some debating I am going to start calling this feature Journey With....  I have changed things from Pilgrims to Journey With. I just wanted to better express what this was about...and I felt journey with seemed to better express it as you will be journeying with each person as they share part of their story here. If you would like to be featured just fill out this form!)

No Longer Afraid to Be Me

     I grew up in a nice Christian home where all my needs were met.  I was always the kid that my parents never had to worry about.  I was the girl who always went to church, did what my parents said, got A's in all my classes, and the list goes on.  My older brother was the rebel, and I was Miss Goody Two Shoes.  In fact, I remember the neighbors teasing me about being "holy."  

     In high school, I never had a date.  I had very high standards for my relationships, and only the scum of the earth ever showed any interest.  And you can imagine my response to them!  I think I often came across as being rather aloof and possibly even stuck up.  In actuality, I just didn't know who I was, and I was afraid to go through the self-discovery process.  Better still, I don't even think I knew how to do that.

     I completely broke away from my comfortable life when I went off to college.  I left Washington state for Florida.  I continued to be the quiet, somewhat shy girl.  I was the overlooked one, and I still had very few friends.  I always followed the rules, never questioned them, and I did what was expected at all times.  I even decided that God had called me to be single, and I gave myself over to that.

     Well, I was blown away when a young man came into my life. I really believed he was the one for me.  We fell in love and got married.  And we were married for 10 years.  I worked very hard at my marriage--many lessons were learned, and God did a lot.  I never doubted that he was the one  for whom I was destined.  

     My problem was that I was only 19 when I got married, and this guy was 10 years older than I.  I didn't know who I  truly was.  I didn't understand that I needed to come out of my shell.   Instead, we had a parent-child relationship where he controlled  me and I submitted to him. I didn't have a good model when I was growing up of what a good marriage should be.  I thought my husband and I had a happy marriage.  I basically lost myself in him, but I thought that was my role.

     In my mid-20's, I began to discover who I was.  I was tired of being told what to do and how to do it.  I began to stand up for who I was and quit apologizing for the young woman  God had  made me.  My husband didn't like it at all.  He kept trying to control me, and he did the normal control freak thing--he made things extremely uncomfortable for me.  He had never really yelled at me--now that was  commonplace.  I never dreamed of doing something of which he didn't  approve.  Now I did it regularly.   And he began to withdraw. And then I truly began to see my husband for who he was.  He became withdrawn, depressed, and I knew that for my daughter's safety (and mine), we had to get out. It went against everything I had ever done in my life.  But I knew who I was in the Lord.  I was a beautiful woman whom God had  blessed with amazing talents that He wanted me to use for Him.  I was not a meek little girl with no mind of my own.  God could speak to me just like He could speak to anyone who served Him with all his/her heart.  

     It was the hardest thing I ever did in my life, but years later, God is still at work in my life. And I know He shall continue to do so.  And my precious daughter knows even at her tender age that God has special plans for her life and that it is okay to be the girl (and ultimately woman) God made her to be!

 

 

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You can visit Ruth at My Devotional Thoughts.

 

 

(Comments here are closed so that you will take a moment and go visit Ruth at her blog.  Please do take a moment and visit her blog and comment...it is always such a great encouragement!)