He who cannot dance puts the blame on the floor

responsibility

There is an old Hindi proverb that says, “He who cannot dance puts the blame on the floor.”

In this life, taking responsibility is always harder than not taking responsibility.

It’s easier to stay bitter than to choose forgiveness. To give into temptation than to over come it. To eat every piece of candy at Christmas, than to have a little discipline and just take a few bites.

It’s easier to watch TV than to exercise. To spend money than it is to save and to give it away. To gossip rather than remain silent.

Yet, every human must take responsibility for their own actions.

But blaming gets in the way.

We blame the temptations that surround us, the people who discourage us and the hurts that have scared us.

Blaming is the “kryptonite” to taking responsibility.

I know people who have made blaming an art form to avoid responsibility.

They avoid things like discipline, hard work, love, forgiveness, perseverance, even success, to focus on whom they can blame and why they are the victim.

Jim Roan writes, “You must take personal responsibility. You cannot change the circumstance, the seasons or the wind but you can change yourself through the power of God’s grace.”

My mother is a great example of responsibility.

She was born during the depression, her father left her at a very young age, and then, while her mom was searching for an identity, gave her up to be raised by her strict Irish grandmother.

There was dysfunction all around her.

There was alcoholism and broken relationships.

She had a lot of excuses to not take responsibility for her life.

She had a lot of reasons to be bitter.

She never had a “real” relationship with her mother except for an awkward, reversal of roles relationship, where as I was growing up, it seemed like my mom was more her mother and her mother more the child.

She never had contact with her real dad.

With dysfunction all around her, she decided that as an adult, she would break the cycle and do life differently.

She made a choice that she would stay away from the things that brought destruction all around her during her childhood.

My mom and my Dad have been married over 55 years, and her commitment to family, while experiencing the loss of two grown daughters, her faith in God and her devotion to serving others is entirely inspiring.

When I hear people try to blame their situations on the hurts, dysfunctions and abandonment’s of the past, I have to feel for them, cry with them, understand their pain, but then I have to tell them my mom’s story.

SHE HAD A CHOICE.

She chose the road less traveled.

It’s always harder to take responsibility than not to, but it’s always more rewarding.

The gift my mother was given at a young age, in the midst of all that turmoil, was she was introduced to the love, truth and Grace of God.

And while there was brokenness all around her,  she allowed Him to be her healer, wisdom, strength and Heavenly Father.

Ernest Hemingway in his book “A Farewell to Arms” writes, “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are stronger at the broken places.”

My mom has allowed the broken places in her life to become the places where God was honored most.

There is nothing glamorous about taking responsibility for our lives. It just comes down to hard work.

Donald Trump is famous for saying, “When we want to do something, we find a way, but when we don’t we find an excuse.”

Michael Angelo who spent four years lying on his back, painting the ceiling of the Sisteen Chapel wrote this “If people knew how hard I had to work to gain my mastery, it wouldn’t seem wonderful at all.”

Author and pastor, Charles Swindoll writes, “What is the sign of maturity? It’s taking responsibility for your life and using it to serve others.”

“For we are each responsible for our own conduct.” Galatians 6:5

5 Things Every Church Should Do (Part 4)

Vanessa was born into a broken world on November 3rd, 1989.

She was loved, but she didn’t love herself.

When she was 2, her father died in a motorcycle accident in Southern California.

Her mother was 21 years old with 2 small children, no job, no education and life became chaotic.

Sadness, anger and regret filled their lives, though no one ever talked about it.

Vanessa learned at a very early age to stuff deep hurts and play the part of a happy kid.

She played a lot of make believe, numbing herself to the reality of sadness, loneliness, pain and guilt.

Her other coping skills were eating too much and hurting herself.

Vanessa and her family went to church occasionally but her perception of God was that “He had a lot of rules that, if broken, would send me straight to Hell. The whole thing just wasn’t appealing.”

Her mother met a man and the family moved to Colorado and Vanessa felt like she was starting a new life with a new dad.

Everything seemed perfect until at the age of 10, she was molested by a 40-something-year-old neighbor, but she never told anyone about it, not realizing that anything out of the ordinary happened.

Vanessa’s mom got engaged, Vanessa’s mom got cancer, Vanessa’s mom’s new fiancé could not face the storm and he left.

Once again, Vanessa faced abandonment.

While her mom was getting medical treatment, Vanessa and her sister would stay up all night and began to drink alcohol and smoke marijuana.

They moved back to California and the partying intensified.

When she entered high school her life was spinning out of control though on the surface you would not know.

She was in honor classes with high grades, involved in water polo, swimming, school plays, dance class, journalism, a statistician for wrestling and assisting with school rallies.

Yet getting wasted, smoking weed and stealing prescription drugs became an everyday occurrence.

Vanessa began to sell marijuana and was arrested and had to do community service.

Her sophomore year she got pregnant and had a miscarriage, yet, this was not her bottom.

She began to get into heavier things and then she discovered the drug of her choice, meth.

While still putting on a pretty good show on the outside, her mom caught her doing meth and she revealed that her dad had completely lost himself in the meth pipe.

The night he died, her mom caught him smoking and kicked him out of the house and that is when he crashed his motorcycle.

Vanessa felt lied to and ran away and did not finish the last 2 months of school.

Her mother reported her missing, thus violating her parole, and she was arrested and spent 2 ½ months in jail and sober.

When she got out, she got accepted to college and had great intentions of being a good student but quickly got involved with alcohol and weed.

“My disease was much stronger than my ambition.”

Vanessa jumped around from one high to another and ended up in Las Vegas where her dad’s friend Ryan lived.

She moved in with Ryan and “I found my usual low-life crowd and began selling weed, coke and x. I was then introduced to the pimp and prostitution game.”

“They appeared to have it all; little did I know they were just great actresses. I got myself a pimp, who was also a drug dealer.”

“That day, I sold my soul.”

Things went from bad to violent to worse and Vanessa eventually left her pimp but she kept selling drugs and was re-introduced to meth.

6 months later, smoking meth daily, she lost everything, cut off her long beautiful hair and went into seclusion.

He mom called the morgue often to find out if she was alive.

“The toxins of the drugs were seeping out of my pores. I would pick at my skin all over my body. My once flawless complexion was constantly covered in sores. I spent my 21st birthday getting high in a closet.”

On the night of November 17th, 2010, someone turned Vanessa in on a $10,000 bounty.

It saved her life.

She got lost in the system, a blessing in disguise, and for 21 days she reflected on her life and her choices.

“I looked into the foggy jail mirror and saw a grimy creature I didn’t recognize. God told me in a faint, gentle whisper, ‘This is not what I want for you. This is not who you are.’”

That night she wrote a poem titled, “Surrender”, begging God to deliver her from this insanity.

Under house arrest she immersed herself into recovery and followed the rules like her life depended on it. And it did.

“One day, as I was contemplating what the God of my understanding was to me, Jesus appeared. I have always been a cloud watcher. There He was wearing the crown of thorns, like an image I’d had on a postcard as a child. He was smiling at me and I could see that He was so proud. I had more hope that evening than any other moment of my entire life!”

Vanessa learned that the root of disease lies in obsession, compulsion, self-centeredness and lack of faith.

She moved to California and arrived in Placerville with a new ankle monitor.

Her mom mentioned that her church offered several recovery groups.

Vanessa thought, “Oh great! They are going to shove religion down my throat.”

A recovery meeting called “Celebrate Recovery” was meeting that night and so they came to the church and Vanessa experienced something she had not experienced before.

“That first night at Celebrate Recovery, I felt warmth and a hope I didn’t recognize. Everyone was so welcoming and loving. I began to attend church services and I started volunteering. I soon realized that Green Valley Community Church was not a religious church about judgment or being better than, but it was a Jesus church about relationships and acceptance.”

”One thing I knew, I had finally found home.”

“I learned that God is a father to the fatherless. He offers grace and forgiveness and peace. I began to like myself.”

”I got off house arrest, I got to flip a sign at Easter reading ‘Road to Hell” as my old life and “Road to Recovery” as my new life.”

Vanessa is an inspiration and a miracle and now helps young people recover from their hurts, hang-ups and habits.

Celebrate Recovery and my church’s commitment to help those dealing with hurts, hang-ups and habits has once again drawn us very close to the heart of God.

Jesus stated that he clearly came to “Heal the broken-hearted and set captives free.”

When people say that God doesn’t do miracles anymore, then they have never been a part of Celebrate Recovery.

Our Celebrate Recovery program was started by a couple who was rejected by another church when they wanted to start the program.

The church told them that they weren’t sure they wanted people with serious issues and addictions coming into their church.

Their sad loss was our gain.

Celebrate started small and as the leadership grew, so did the program.

7 years later, hundreds have overcome, healed, found God and been baptized.

When you go to a Celebrate Recovery service, ours is on Thursday nights, what you experience is what real church should be.

Each service includes true celebration, safe relationships, honest assessment, humbling confession and gut wrenching transparency and a sense of freedom and purpose that is contagious.

It is about as pure of a church as you will find!

We have now started “The Landing” which is Celebrate Recovery for teenage and college students.

It is a safe landing place for students to come and heal, build healthy relationships and start good habits.

Every church should help people overcome.

The 4th thing every church should and must do is be fully committed to “Celebrate Recovery.”

 

Vanessa’s life scripture is from the book of Lamentations where the prophet Jeremiah says, “I’ll never forget the trouble, the utter lostness, the taste of ashes, the poison I’ve swallowed. I remember it all—oh, how well I remember—the feeling of hitting the bottom. But there’s one other thing I remember, and remembering, I keep a grip on hope: God’s loyal love couldn’t have run out, his merciful love couldn’t have dried up. They’re created new every morning. How great Your faithfulness! I’m sticking with God (I say it over and over). He’s all I’ve got left.”

For more information about “Celebrate Recovery” go to… http://www.celebraterecovery.com/

Or respond on this post
Or email me and we can talk burkeyk@gvcconline.net

A Piece of Me Died Today, A Piece of Me Lived


These are some thoughts that I have been experiencing over the last week: Life is truly a journey.

I wrote this on a plane coming home from my nieces wedding. Becky is a beautiful bride and her mother, my sister Rhonda, was a beautiful soul.
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A piece of me died today, a piece of me lived.
A piece of me tried today, a piece of me didn’t
A piece of me cried today, tears full of stain
A piece of me lied today, avoiding the pain

Life moving fast, never ending the same
Voices of reason, always getting the blame
A wound ignored, a heart who needs mending
It makes wrong choices, leads to bad endings

I’ve lost a sister, now it looks like I’ve lost more
It’s hard to explain, if you haven’t walked through that door
The sadness is deep, because the memories are good
I need to take the high road, I know that I should

A piece of me shouted, “Let the truth be shown!”
A piece of me whispered, “Don’t throw the first stone.”
A piece of me wished, “Things need to get fixed.”
A piece of me prayed, “Let Your will be the fit.”

Wish I could go back, do the things we used to do
They say that doesn’t work, every day is new
So I’ll drink today, be it a bitter-sweet cup
I’ll focus on the good, always looking up

A piece of me saw today, that great divide
Where there’s no shame, arms open wide
“I want to see more!” my heart screams and shouts
Faith is where I believe, overriding the doubt

I can see her smile, I can see her hair
I can see her worry, I can see her flair
I can see her warmth, I can see her care
I can see her pain, this isn’t fair

But I can see her grace in her children so grown
Her house was a refuge, a safe place, a home
Memories flood our minds, our hearts seem beleaguered
Because they’re preparing the way to being reunited forever

God bless you Rhonda and the legacy you have left.
Until we meet again.

Standing on Tip Toes, Hoping I Can See the Ground

Feels like a desert rain, more like a hurricane
Looks like a thorny rose, dressed in God’s own clothes
Sounds like a distant sound, hope a melody is found

Kaleidoscope of views, while no ones in the pews
Born to posture, ever changing roster
Striving to succeed, punishment follows good deeds

I pour out my heart, pour out my love
I pour out my heart, pour out my love
Need a shot of novacaine, to ease the pain
Need a cold heart to heat, finding meaning between the beats

Fighting a resilient rage, trying to turn the page
Searching for sunny days, clouds stay in my way
Overwhelmed, a stunning view, pleasures all too few

I pour out my heart, pour out my love
I pour out my heart, pour out my love
Need a shot of novacaine, to ease the pain
Need a cold heart to heat, finding meaning between the beats

Addicted to life that’s bitter, sober thoughts of life that’s better
Eyes set on morning after, darkness shrouds future laughter
Standing on tip toes, hoping I can see the ground

I pour out my heart, pour out my love
I pour out my heart, pour out my love
Need a shot of novacaine, to ease the pain
Need a cold heart to heat, finding meaning between the beats

Sense a new day is coming, need a new way of thinking
Sense a new hunger for learning, need a new way of teaching
Sense a new redemption, a new way of salvation

I pour out my heart, pour out my love
I pour out my heart, pour out my love
No need for novacaine, there’s a new meaning to pain
My cold heart heats, my new heart beats
I am done with the chase, unwrapped by the gift of GRACE