"Please don't make me look."

The Easter bunny wasn't really a part of our Easter when I was growing up. I suspect it was considered sacrilegious, or maybe it just wasn't my parents' thing. But when my own daughter was old enough to understand, I decided to let her benefit from everything the Easter bunny had to offer.

As I put her to bed the night before the big day, I said, "Just think, Mary Susan, while you are sleeping the Easter bunny will sneak into your room and leave you an Easter basket. Yay! Won't that be great?" With no hesitation, my sweet child sat straight up in bed and began screaming at the top of her lungs, "NO!  TELL HIM TO STAY AT THE MALL!"

Suddenly I pictured the enormous bunny we had seen earlier that day with the emotionless black eyes and enormous ears. I imagined that scary creature slowly creeping into her room, and she was right. That was a terrifying thought. What was I thinking? I wouldn't want him coming into my room, either.

I tried to explain, in every way I could, who the Easter bunny was and why there was no need to be afraid, but I was completely stumped. Why did we have an Easter bunny, anyway? And I had no explanation for why he would be carrying a basket of eggs. What's that about? 

Nothing I said calmed her down so I finally decided to throw in the towel and confess the big bad truth. "Guess what, there really is no such thing as an Easter bunny. The whole thing is a big, fat lie!"

There was a long, silent pause as Mary Susan carefully considered what I was telling her. After analyzing this new revelation she screamed again, "TELL HIM TO STAY AT THE MALL!" That's the year the Easter bunny died at our house and never returned.

Sometimes I feel like Easter bunnies, baskets of eggs, and fancy dresses (with even gloves and hats in my time) are big distractions for those of us who can't bear to think of what the Easter season really means.

I have finally realized I dread the weeks leading up to Easter because I can't stand to hear the agonizing stories of Jesus' death on the cross. I've never been able to watch movies that depict the ghastly details of Jesus' crucifixion because it's just too terrible to imagine - even though the resurrection story is so beautiful. Please don't make me look.

However, just because it made me uncomfortable was no reason to avoid it altogether - so one year I decided to read the various accounts of Jesus' crucifixion in the Bible, and maybe I'd find something new and very personal to make it less painful. I did find something that totally surprised me.

Apparently I was so preoccupied with the ugliness of the cross, I never paid much attention to what Jesus actually said while he was hanging there. This time, however, I found the four major cornerstones of our work at Blue Monarch - right there, tucked away in Jesus' own words.

Forgiveness:  Jesus said, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." Forgiveness is at the very heart of the great healing that takes place at Blue Monarch. There is so much generational dysfunction and abuse, this statement is often very true. Many times the ones who have hurt the women and children of Blue Monarch really did not know what they were doing at the time. Their behavior was totally acceptable in their homes their whole lives. But through counseling and lots of prayer, our courageous women are able to forgive the ones who caused them great pain, which then begins their own supernatural healing.

Faith:  When the thief on the cross next to Jesus said, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom," he responded, "I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in paradise." The thief was not a righteous man. He had lived a criminal life. But look how quickly Jesus embraced him once this man simply expressed his faith in him. I think that is why we see such huge emotion when the women we serve develop a personal relationship with Jesus. They are completely overcome with God's forgiveness and grace. This, in turn, gives them more than recovery. It gives them true freedom.

Love:  Then, this is the one that really moves me. When Jesus saw his mother standing there with John, the disciple whom he loved, he said to her, "Dear woman, here is your son," and to John, "Here is your mother." The passage says from that time on, this disciple took Mary into his home. Just as Jesus charged him with caring for his mother, whom he loved dearly, he charges us with caring for the women and children he sends to Blue Monarch, whom he also adores.

But there is more. Because the disciple was so special to him, Jesus wanted this man to be blessed by serving his mother. He wanted both to benefit from their relationship together - just as we are blessed by God's children that we welcome into our Blue Monarch home.

Trust:  Finally, there is this valuable cornerstone. After Jesus had completed his work on earth, had suffered on the cross to his final breath, he said, "It is finished." At that point he left us with the Holy Spirit for guidance and discernment. One of the hardest things we ever do is watch our women and children walk out the door after we have poured time, heart, and soul into them.  Even under the best of circumstances, it is still a frightening thought that they will once again be on their own to make decisions and choices. However, we must always remind ourselves that we have done our best, we have planted the seeds, and at this point we must trust the Holy Spirit, who will continue to be with them - even when we cannot.

Who knew? All these years I avoided one of the most beautiful stories of all time, unaware there was a special letter waiting for me - hanging right there on the cross. I am so grateful I finally uncovered my eyes and found the powerful message because Easter has looked different to me ever since. 

Thank you, Jesus, for showing me the beauty in the cross - that even in your darkest hour and greatest pain, you spoke truth that would become treasures we need even today.  Amen
    

"So, I'm going to ask you again."

There was a season when my husband and I were searching for a new church and in a period of eighteen exhausting months I visited thirteen churches. I would go by myself the first time and if I thought Clay might like the church we would return together the following Sunday. 

On one particular visit by myself, I walked into a small country church and found a seat toward the back of the sanctuary. But over the next fifteen minutes, I was asked to move seven times because I was in someone else’s seat. Seven times this happened! It surprised me that no one was the least bit uncomfortable asking me to move as if I was clearly the one out of line.

I eventually settled into a vacant seat on the very back row, which was apparently still up for grabs. Or perhaps the owner was out sick. Regardless, we were off to a rough start, and I’ll admit, my feelings were a little hurt.

Shortly after the service began, I suddenly smelled a strong odor of burning sage, which surprised me. About that time, I turned around to find two men waving smoldering sage in a big circle all around me as if to run off evil spirits. They seemed to be on a mission and didn’t change the expressions on their faces or stop what they were doing when they realized I saw them. It was hard to settle on an appropriate expression for my own face under the circumstances because I was concerned any look on my face might be incriminating. They offered no explanation – and definitely no apology. I couldn’t help but compare this welcome to the collection of gift baskets and goodies from the other churches I had visited. This scene was in a category all to itself.

Naturally, I was tempted to get up and leave but since that would only confirm their suspicions, I decided to wait it out. Can’t say it was a particularly moving or enlightening sermon, the music was dreadful, and a few still seemed to hold a grudge over the seat thing. So, another one bites the dust. Check. 

I have reflected on that day several times and can’t help but chuckle as I imagine how this congregation might respond if our Blue Monarch tsunami showed up one Sunday. No doubt our busloads of women and children would probably end up standing in the back, and with the abundance of tattoos, the burning sage might set off the fire alarm.

When I pick apart this experience, it may surprise you to know that I blame myself for what happened. The fact I visited thirteen churches and found something wrong with every single one of them only shows that my expectations were ridiculously unrealistic. I don’t remember now what was on my list of requirements, but I’m sure décor and music were close to the top, and probably the pastor’s sense of humor, which had to be clever and dry. Three Stooges humor was a definite deal breaker. (The pastor who compared his wife to all women “who only care about a closet full of shoes” was out before he could say amen.)

In hindsight, I was clearly looking for my church to serve me, not for a place to serve. And I was looking for entertainment, not for a place to worship.

Once again, the women we serve are my greatest teachers. They are given choices of churches to attend because we want them to develop relationships that will remain with them even after they leave our program. Naturally, the options are not extensive because they depend on available transportation among other things, but instead of finding something wrong with every single church, they are only hungry and thankful for the opportunity to attend somewhere. Many have found ways to serve, and they jump at the chance to bring a covered dish.

I have found the women of Blue Monarch tend to gravitate to churches that allow them to be exuberant with their worship. This makes sense. After all, their life experiences have been intense, so it is natural they would want their worship to be equally as intense. When I watch them worship, usually in the front of the sanctuary, they show a hunger for Jesus that is moving. Perhaps they know too well what a life of darkness feels like without him, and the memory is still very fresh. The tears in their eyes demonstrate a sense of humility and raw gratitude some of us take for granted.

Many years ago, I received a phone call from a major television network. I had been nominated to receive a national award and the first step was an interview. I was eventually asked if participating in Christian activities was a requirement at Blue Monarch. Naturally, I explained that for a Christ-centered program, nearly all our activities were Christian. But I also explained that the women who apply are typically seeking us for that reason. We don’t have to require it because that’s what they want. In other words, it's their requirement of us - not the other way around.

The woman on the phone said, “You will be disqualified if you answer the question like that. So, I’m going to ask you again.”

She repeated the question and got the exact same answer. And yes, I was disqualified, which was fine. 

I am grateful for all the many churches that welcome our families with open arms, grace, and even patience. But I am also aware they are equally blessed. They can’t help but be reminded of why they are there when they see Jesus on the faces of the precious women and children we serve. May we all have that same hunger for him – regardless of where we are.

Yet a time is coming and has now come when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks. John 4:23 

"When did witchcraft become the new black?"

The woman was in her eighties and from the way she talked, she had been unhappy in her marriage for decades. She spoke of her husband with complete disdain, and they basically barked at one another, which was uncomfortable to watch and impossible to ignore. From what I could tell, there was mutual dislike that might cross over into hate. 

I often wondered why she married the man in the first place. What made this woman want to spend the rest of her life with him? Whatever that was, must surely be gone by now. 

One day I saw a photo of this woman’s husband as a young man. He was tall and surprisingly handsome with a strong jawline and thick, wavy hair. He was a star athlete at her high school and looked very strong and masculine in his football uniform. She was a beautiful girl, couple of years younger, hanging onto his arm with an adoring gaze. He, on the other hand, looked completely indifferent as if it would ruin his reputation to show her any affection. From the stories she shared, he was apparently what her generation would call a “hellion.” 

And then it hit me. She fell for the bad guy. And now she regrets it.

I could only imagine how exciting it must have been for her to snag this football star, especially as a younger high school student. No doubt any attention from the hard-to-get-guy must have made her feel very special. She knew the difference from right and wrong and it must have been absolutely intoxicating that he lived on the edge of that line with no remorse. When he asked her to marry him – over any other girl - she must have imagined a life of bliss that would end happily ever after. 

But apparently, through the years that rough, unapproachable exterior became less and less attractive. Perhaps all the self-serving sweet talk that lured her in the beginning turned to ugly control. Her values were constantly challenged as she found herself slowly lowering to his standards simply to avoid the conflict. And all the things about her that caught his attention in the beginning, became all the things he wanted to control or destroy.

In many ways I feel the incredible rise and popularity of witchcraft is no different than what happened to this woman. What begins as an enchanting promise of great fortune, opportunities, and happiness can eventually become a life of control and helplessness with what looks like no way out. 

No longer is witchcraft something only a few misguided people practice in the dark or in some faraway jungle. It is in our faces everywhere we turn. People with great influence in the entertainment industry, and even political realm, demonstrate elements of witchcraft, sometimes to unsuspecting audiences. It has somehow become fashionable and trendy in many circles and even a requirement in others. When did witchcraft become the new black? The outward expression of satanic worship is in places we would never expect, and parents are even teaching the practices to their children as if it is just another after school activity. The shock factor has become an unachievable high – there is a temptation to outdo the last revolting act, which is a contest that seems to have no limit.

Sometimes witchcraft masquerades as a sophisticated, more highly educated form of Christianity – beyond anything simple Christians can comprehend. It is even full of ideology that sounds good, designed to respect and help others. So, how could it possibly be bad? The line between good and bad gets very blurred.   

Witchcraft is nothing new at Blue Monarch and in fact, due to the rising acceptance of this practice, it is now a question on our application. Not for disqualification, but to alert us to the challenges the applicant will face in her recovery. I sometimes feel Blue Monarch has become a refugee camp for courageous women who have been able to escape witchcraft and run to us for help. 

For many years we have had women who regretfully participated in satanic rituals at some point. I have heard the disturbing, graphic stories (I will spare you the horrific details) and I have seen the resulting trauma. Thankfully, I have also witnessed the tremendous healing that can ultimately replace the regret and shame. 

Typically, they did not seek out this lifestyle. Individuals the women trusted lured them in with glamorous promises and before they knew it, they had fallen for the bad guy, which eventually caused them to suffer tremendous loss. The most common description I have heard is that witchcraft leaves an emptiness that can never be filled. They constantly reach deeper for more and more but never feel satisfied.

You see, witchcraft is not a game. It is not just a quirky practice. It opens a door that is often very difficult and even dangerous to close. And the bad guy is the one standing at the door saying, “Turn around sister. You’re here to stay.”

However, there truly is hope. In fact, the internet is full of videos by people who love to share “from witchcraft to Jesus” stories. I’ve noticed for many of them it took a rock bottom moment or even supernatural encounter with Jesus to realize how deceived they were. One thing that is consistent, though. When they finally asked for help, Jesus was already waiting at the door offering a way out.

You see, that is the distinction. The bad guy wants complete control, regardless of her cost. The good guy, on the other hand, gives her a choice, regardless of His cost. And it’s our responsibility to teach the difference.    

Lord, please give to those who have been deceived, eyes to see, ears to hear, and courage to reach for your hand.  Amen