Unraveling Rooted Lies and a link to my story on BraveLiving podcast

 

Last week Patti Thompson Ziemke interviewed me on her podcast, Brave Living. She collects stories with purpose to help people “shed insecurity one story at a time.”

She put me at ease with her lovely rhythm of questions. I shared about moving from Maine to a farm village in Ohio when I was ten and the four years  from 10-14 I was bullied. I shared about believing the voices and how toxic thoughts became rooted lies. Then I shared about how those lies kept me captive and the slow, redemptive process of being released. If you’d like to hear more, listen to #9 here.

 

 

Lectio divina gives us a chance to lay our ear close to the heartbeat of the Word. And sometimes, just sometimes, when we lean in and listen deep, we have a strong reaction to a phrase. 

And Friends, don’t you dare pass over that moment.

Stop and Listen to the shock waves that are going on internally. 

It may be gold.

“If a word from Scripture makes you want to lie like a cat in a sunbeam
OR
you think that word could not possibly be for me, LISTEN DEEP.”

 

In Patti’s podcast I talk about a phrase from Psalm 139, “I thank You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”  And truly friends, my honest reaction to that phrase? Over-the-top embarrassment. I wanted to shut them in a children’s Bible, assign them to a Sunday school ditty, and get on with things.  Those juvenile words could not possibly be for me.

But the oddness of my reaction made me look twice and that night I decided to hold on tight. I decided to meditate on the scripture as I was falling asleep.

For those of you new to this place, I call this practice Sleeping with Bread.

And here’s the story where this phrase comes from:

There’s a profound story about children in the Holocaust who were unable to fall asleep.

The hunger gnawed.

Fear gripped.

A Wise One bunking in the same quarters had an idea. Why not give the children a crust to cradle as they were falling asleep. Their fear of tomorrow would be diminished. They’d be able to rest.

It worked.

They held onto a crust of bread and were able to hold onto peace.

 

That night when I held onto a crust of Psalm 139, “I thank You Lord that I am fearfully and wonderfully made,” something began to unravel, something tight, something old and rooted.

I took the words to bed with me and eventually fell asleep.

 

Did you know that those last 15 minutes before sleep our brains wire differently? More on that later. I held on with repetition, one recital of the truth after another.  I held on like the woman with the issue of blood holding onto the hem of Christ.

 

The next morning, “I thank You for I am fearfully and wonderfully made,” were the first thoughts of my day. And they came accompanied by a surge of hope.

I had no idea these words were the key which would unlock my deepest lie. You can read more about the practice here.   (I’ve written a ton about this on my blog,aThirstforGod.com . Put these words in the search function:  “Sleeping with Bread.”)

 

Isaiah 51:14 below became a declaration as I held onto this crust of manna, watching the lie slowly unravel night after night, my brain slowly rewire with truth:

“The cowering prisoners will soon be set free; they will not die in their dungeon, nor will they lack bread.”

These words became a rallying cry and then miraculously, as I tasted freedom, a fierce joy. I cradled bread and woke up with more than enough.

 

…………………………………………………………………..

Oh Friends, I’d love to do a free webinar on the power of taking a scripture to bed with you and the neuroscience I’ve learned around it next month in November.

Why?
It’s been the key to rewiring my brain out of depression on many occasions.
It’s been the key to uprooting a toxic thought.
It’s been the key to enable me to firmly root in God’s love.
Because FREEDOM would be worth deep Thanksgiving.

Anyone interested?

AND this beautiful work goes hand in glove with lectio divina. I can’t wait for you to hear more. I’m literally dancing from excitement (on the inside of course, everyone’s been tucked into bed!)

Once again, it’s a profound privilege to serve you with lectio divina and make a space for you to spend time with God!  Thank you again for the honor.

And feel free to forward this to a friend who’s hungry for a little hope.

 

photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash
photo by Jonathan Pielmayer on Unsplash
photo by Florencia Viadana on Unsplash
photo by Nathan Dumlao on Unsplash