Read My Big Bottom Blessing Online
Authors: Teasi Cannon
Having the Lord pick us up when we're feeling down is far better than even the strongest iced mocha latte Starbucks can offer.
Taking an honest look at our own sin can be difficult. I know this firsthand. It really broke my heart when I started to acknowledge how much judgment lived in me and how critical I had been at times in my life. But here's the sweet news. God's goodness draws us to repentance (Rom. 2:4). And when we confess our sins, God is ready to forgive us and clean us up (1 John 1:9). He says He will cleanse our unrighteousness.
God doesn't clean us so He can love us more. No way. He cleans us so we
feel clean.
We were actually forgiven once and for all when Jesus died on the Cross. But the process of confession restores our daily
experience
of that forgiveness and ushers in the flow of God's amazing grace and power. We want that.
We don't only need to ask God to forgive us of our sins, we need to ask those we've sinned against to forgive us. It's called restitution, and I am going to bravely say that I don't believe our healing is complete until it's been accomplished. Jack Frost says it this way, “In order to break that cycle [of reaping what we've sown] and begin restoring trust, it is often necessary to make every effort to bring healing to others and to seek to restore the fractured relationship.”
14
Restitution isn't just saying, “I'm sorry” (often a dutifully quipped selfish statement that's main purpose is often to make
us
feel better); it's more. It's actually asking someone to forgive us, which reveals that we own up to our own guilt. And it puts the control (choice whether to forgive or not) into someone else's hands. This requires a lot of humility on our part. It requires that we become far more concerned with pleasing God than worrying about our own reputation or about how someone is going to react to us. God wants us to make things right with people. Look at what Jesus says in Matthew:
Therefore if you bring your gift to the altar, and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar, and go your way. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift. (Matthew 5:23â24)
God blesses our willingness to take responsibility for our own offenses. Remember what God says He will give us when we are humble? His grace. And His grace is amazingly powerful.
With restitution, we become willing to admit to others where we have failed them. We become willing to confess the wrongs we have committed, no matter how large or small. It may be that my friend is 98 percent wrong in a matter, but I am 100 percent responsible for my 2 percent. Before God, I must do my part.
To go before those I've wronged (my parents, my husband, my children, my pastor, and any others) and ask themâwithout bringing up one single thing they've done wrongâif they can forgive me for hurting them. And being willing to walk away peacefully no matter the response.
Quite often there is a wonderful cycle that is created by restitution. The humility it takes for us to ask for forgiveness has a sort of disarming effect on others, prompting humility in them. Many times I've gone to someone to ask for forgiveness only to be met with the same request from him or her.
Me: “Will you forgive me?”
Him: “Yes, and will you forgive
me
?”
I believe this happens because of the grace God promises to pour out on us when we are humble. That precious
grace is powerful enough to spread from us over into the hearts of those around us, and that's when it gets amazing.
If you want to try something really amazing, try getting on your knees before a teenager you've offended and ask for forgiveness. I've done this with my daughter several times. There's nothing quite as amazing as seeing her walls fall down as she sees that I'm willing to admit my faults. It builds trust.
Now, there is wisdom to be used in this restitution thing. For example, you would never want to go to someone you've secretly disliked for several years and say, “Pam, I've never liked you. In fact, you've bugged the tar out of me. I know that's wrong of me, and I'd like to ask for your forgiveness.” For some reason, I don't see this one going very well. I don't think Pam is going to be at all humbled by the experience. In fact, things will probably get worse.
Before we ever go to anyone with restitution in mind we must pray, pray, pray. We must be sure that it is Holy Spirit-led, with no wrong motivations. It's a great plan to pass the idea by some mature Christian friends just to make sure you're not about to make a huge mistake.
When it's done right, it makes the devil so mad because it restores health to our hearts and relationships in families and churches. And it's the enemy's prime objective to destroy all of that. Let's ruin his plan.
Oh, Precious Jesus
,
Thank You does not come close to being the right thing to say for all You have done for me. Your mercy. Your grace. Your forgiveness. They are gifts I know I don't deserve. Your willingness to be broken in every way so that I could be whole is incomprehensible. Words are too feeble to express the praise and honor You deserve.
Holy Spirit, I thank You for taking me on the journey of a life-time. For tenderly holding my hand and revealing so much truth to meâtruth that sets me free. Please never, ever stop. I trust You with my heart completely and give You permission to invade it with Your light. I want to see every blind spot.
And heavenly Father, thank You for forgiving me for all the yucky pride in my heart. For all the judgment and condemnation I cast upon my brothers and sisters in Christ. Please convict me quickly if they ever return. I am so sorry, Lord. I know it grieves Your heart when Your children don't love each other well.
Thank You for my parents. I adore them and ask You to bless them for all the years they put up with my blindness. Thank You for all the people You have put in my life. Each one of them has contributed to who I am today.
Thank You for the gift of forgivenessâreceiving it and giving it. Thank Youâeven though it hurtsâfor the mental torturers, for their blows pushed me closer to You. Only You would know that it would work that way.
I love You. I surrender to You completely.
Amen
I don't know about you, but when I have to take difficult steps, it helps me to know I'm not the only one on the journey. This process of forgiving others and asking for our own forgiveness is not a simple pleasure walk down easy street. It's not for the faint of heart, and it's not a solitary venture. We're all on this road trip. We all need mercy.
There is not a single person exempt from needing forgiveness. Every single one of us has failed someone elseâmost likely many times. And we've all been failed. This is part of the circle of life. (Can you hear
The Lion King
sound track?) With this in mind, don't let the enemy of your soul condemn or shame you for any part of your process. That is his tactic to try to keep you from experiencing the blessing and life that will come as you press through. Keep your eyes focused on our heavenly Father, all the while receiving as much of His love as you can. Before you know it, you'll be standing at the finish line amazed that you were able to run that race.
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I just love the changing of the seasons, don't you? Especially that magical time of year when spring turns the corner into summer and women everywhere prepare themselves for a very important event: finding out if the bathing suit still fits.
And even more fun is opening day at the poolâthe day a gal finally gets to strut her stuff (stuff that hasn't seen the light of day in months) for all the neighbors to enjoy. Even though it's wonderful to feel all those eyes on me (not!), I usually like to stay put on my lounge chair reading in the sun. Of course my kids always want me to get in the pool, and I humor them here and there. But I pay the price. Shortly after I get out of the water, my body dries off just enough for my thighs to take on the qualities of double-sided tape, sticking together ever so securely. And swim shorts don't make it any better because they just rise above the stickiness and bunch up at the top of my legs. Lovely.
I'm sure you can tell that bathing suits aren't my favorite attire, but I have to say I owe quite a lot to one special swimsuit. A swimsuit I bought on a special weeklong getaway with Bill.
Now before I tell you about the magical bathing suit of wonders, I need to give some background information. Bill and I had set out on this trip to South Carolina in order to attend a weeklong training seminar on helping people deal with wounded hearts and to sneak in some alone time. We were very excited about our plan to learn some helpful information, while at the same time getting some moments on the beach and several date nights.
Trainer had plans for our trip as well.
TRAINER
:
Do you think there's going to be time for you to get some prayer for yourself at this conference?
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
Of course. There will be lots of prayer time.
TRAINER
:
Good, because you definitely need it.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
What do you mean?
TRAINER
:
You are well aware of what I mean. You've got to get help with your fat problem. Someone needs to help you figure out why you can't lose weight.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
Oh, yeah.
TRAINER
:
It just doesn't make any sense to me that you can be getting all “healed up” (air quotes) in so many ways, yet stay so dang fat. There's got to be a deeply hidden problem with you. Something is very wrong. You definitely need prayer.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
You're right.
So a trip that started out with a focus on learning how to help others suddenly became all about me. It's kind of like being a perpetual single bridesmaid at a wedding: Even though you're celebrating a friend's blessing, all you can think about is catching that silly bouquet. Surely
this
will be
your
lucky day. Perhaps you might actually meet your Prince Charming.
I couldn't keep my developing agenda hidden for long. For much of our drive to the beach, Bill was informed of my plans for a profound personal breakthroughâthe one I had been waiting for all my life. I just knew God was going to reveal the final key to my weight issues, and I would return home a woman with a new metabolism. I could already see myself strutting around in my new skinny jeans, the talk of the town. I was eager for the sessions to begin.
At the end of our first wonderful day of training, the time for personal prayer finally arrived. The men and women all broke off into smaller groups, each with its own leader. I was so excited. I couldn't wait to share my prayer request.
Once my group had found a quiet spot, we all sat in a circle and waited on our leader to start the prayers. A quick assessment of the group told me it would be wise for me to contain myself and allow someone else to go first. I didn't want to appear overly needy and turn everyone off right from the start. After all, I
needed
these people. I was desperate for their insight. A good first impression was essential.
After forcing myself to stay quiet through two other prayer requests (saying “Yes, Lord” at all the appropriate times so as not to appear preoccupied), I finally decided to speak up. I let it all out. In my best “emotionally healthy” voice, I told those women about all the healing I'd been experiencingâhealing that had changed my life in every way but one. I still could not lose weight, and because of that I just didn't feel whole.
With as much empathy as they could offer (each woman in my group was thin), they circled around me and began to pray. The prayers were sweet, yet mighty. I held my breath waiting for the moment I'd been anticipatingâthe moment when my body would be miraculously zapped with a new genetic code (which I would be aware of due to the tingling sensation that would surely accompany this type of transformation).
The last prayer was spoken, andâ¦nothing. I felt nothing. But, I told myself it might just take a few days, and lucky for me there were four days left before I had to leave. Surely they'd get their prayers right by then.
The next three days were basically the same as the first, other than the growing feeling of frustration I sensed in my prayer partners. I've sure got to hand it to them; they truly gave it their best prayers, and listening to me drone on and on about my issue couldn't have been their idea of fun.
But nothing was changing. Nothing. Each night at dinner I still found myself desiring dessert (an urge that would surely disappear as a result of my new healing, don't you think?). I still ate every bite of food on my plate, and I still felt fat.
Even though the days weren't turning out to be what I was hoping, Bill and I did get to spend some sweet time together. We walked on the beach and drove around town discussing God's goodness and the new things we were learning. Things weren't all bad. Especially for Bill.
Bill's favorite part of our trip was the inviting pool area our hotel offered. It was surrounded by a lazy river and had an adjacent hot tub (heaven on earth for him) all facing directly out on the ocean. It was pretty cool.
One night after donning his swimsuit and strutting his stuff (stuff that hadn't changed a bit since the day we were married), Bill asked me to come with him down to the hot tubâthe last thing in the world I had planned on for the evening. All I really wanted to do was climb into my large sweat pants and under the covers. So, although it was hard to resist the puppy-dog eyes he was giving, I told him I was just too tired. With a pout he kissed my cheek and headed to water wonderland without me.
The next night Bill tried again. Nearly begging this time, Bill asked me to come with him to the hot tub. Knowing that I was his best friend, and feeling guilt at the thought of Bill floating in pathetic isolation, I agreed.
Digging under everything else in my suitcase, I finally found itâ¦my humiliation suit (
bathing suit to others).
I hated that stretchy black fabric with its mocking polka dots. Even so, I grabbed it and headed toward the bathroom. (Can you hear the polka dots laughing their heads off already?) I knew who would be waiting for me there. Trainer.
TRAINER
:
Well, hello. Don't tell me you're actually thinking of going down to the pool.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
I have to. Bill begged me.
TRAINER
:
For the life of me, I can't imagine why he'd want to be seen with you. I mean, he's got a perfect body and youâ¦well, you don't.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
Thanks for the vote of confidence.
TRAINER
:
Well, go ahead. Put on the suit. Let's just get this horror show started.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
Fine. (
Strips off clothes without looking in mirror.
)
TRAINER
:
Oh yuck. Quickâ¦get your suit on. I can't stand to look at you.
I struggled to get my bathing suit on as quickly as possible, which isn't easy when one must pull and yank while simultaneously gyrating her hips in hopes of instantly decreasing their size. Finally, with the last tug and snap of the shoulder straps and a quick wipe of my brow (this had been a workout), I stood and caught sight of myself in the mirror. Big mistake.
TRAINER
:
Okay, you're not seriously going to go out in public, are you? I mean, look at yourself. (
Puts hand up to mouth to keep from busting out into a roar of laughter.
)
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
I know. I see it.
TRAINER
:
Well, your stomach is at least covered, but look at the size of your flabby arms. How did they get that big?
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
I don't know. I'm sorry.
TRAINER
:
And look at all the dimples in your thighs. Talk about Swiss cheese. Seriously, Teasi, you can't go. You just can't. You're twice the size of Bill.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
You're right. I am just an embarrassment to him whether he'll admit it or not. I'm not going.
I got out of that suit as quickly as I could (doing the reverse gyration move required) and jumped into the safety of my loose-fitting pajama pants. When I finally emerged from the bathroom, the look on Bill s face couldn't hide his disappointment.
“Where's your bathing suit? I thought you were coming with me?”
“I'm sorry. I just can't. I'm too fat. Please just go without me.”
Though I know it hurt his feelings, Bill did what I asked. He went to the pool without me yet again. Once the door closed behind him, I went to the bed and cried.
There is a scene in the Bible that is important to me because it's almost exactly what happened to me next.
On his way to persecute more Christians, our brother Saul (later given the name Paul) received a life-changing smack in the face from above. Take a look at the scene:
As he journeyed he came near Damascus, and suddenly a light shone around him from heaven. Then he fell to the ground, and heard a voice saying to him, “Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting Me?” And he said, “Who are You, Lord?” Then the Lord said, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. It is hard for you to kick against the goads.” So he, trembling and astonished, said, “Lord, what do You want me to do?” Then the Lord said to him, “Arise and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do.” (Acts 9:3â6)
After I'd had enough of my own crying, I went out onto the balcony to give God a piece of my mind.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
All right, I want answers. Why did You make me so fat? Why did You give me such a messed-up metabolism? Why did You make me so ugly? Why can't I lose weight? (
Persecuting myself.
)
FATHER GOD
:
(
Silence.
)
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
I drove nearly ten hours to get some answersâto get to the root of this issue. Why won't You help me?
FATHER GOD
:
(
Silence.
)
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
Daddy, please. I need You to talk to me. I need to know why. Why? Why?
FATHER GOD
:
(
Silence.
)
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
(
Silence
.)
FATHER GOD
:
Teasi, Teasiâ¦why are you persecuting Me?
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
What do you mean? I'm not persecuting You.
I sat there stunned for a moment, wondering how God could say such a thing to me. After all, I had just traveled so far in order to learn how to help people know Him better. I loved God with all of my heartâin fact I had no greater desire than to know Him more.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
What do you mean? I love You.
FATHER GOD
:
You always call me a liar.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
No, I do not. I totally believe in Your Word.
FATHER GOD
:
You don't believe what I say about you.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
But that has nothing to do with my feelings toward You.
FATHER GOD
:
When you look into the mirror, you have a choice. You can choose whose opinion you are going to accept as truth. There are only two options: My opinion of you, and my enemy, Satan's, opinion.
FAT CHRISTIAN WOMAN
:
What about mine? Aren't I entitled to one of my own?
FATHER GOD
:
Your opinion will line up with one of the two. There are no other options. All of your life you have believed My enemy. You have been living your life as if what he says about you is truth. This makes My opinion the one you choose not to accept; thus, you have been calling Me a liar.