Life's Meaning

I've been off for several days at a Tire Convention with my husband. What these occasions mean for me is:

* Getting to go to cool places - this year it was New Orleans!

*Staying in fancy hotels

The view from our balcony

*Entering into my husband's world by going to workshops with him

*Hanging out in our room alone with lots of time to read, think, redo my blog, sleep, worry wonder about how my children are doing....

*Spending amazing amounts of time alone with my favorite man

*Eating food I did not prepare

*Staying in a room
I did not have to clean

*Observing a world completely different from my own

A world of well dressed business people who consider wine, fancy dining and loud music a good time, is a little mind blowing

It's pretty amazing.

Every single time we get to do this, I have this huge struggle with trusting my husband that it's okay to leave home and enjoy such luxury. I'm not even going to go there. I can imagine that every mom reading this completely understands the struggle I'm referring to. I think maybe this year I learned a few things but it's something that always threatens to ruin the lovely time long before the day comes to leave home. 

There's a lot rolling around in my mind and I'm not quite sure how to say it. I think mothers everywhere understand me when I say that so many, many days we would love to get away from it all. The dailyness of life wears us down --the countless jobs we do over and over, the constant demands on our time and emotions, the selfless giving that is necessary to be a good wife and mother.

I love being a wife and mother, don't get me wrong; I'm sure you do too. But it's exhausting. It never ends and we're always thinking about what we need to do next, and taking care of everyone else's needs besides our own. Getting away from it all often sounds very, very enticing.

Well, I've been there, away from it all.

It was great. I was able to lay down my fears and worries and mistrust and enjoy the time, I really did.

Riding the glass elevator to the 27th floor

Chris and I talked and laughed and shared an intimacy and oneness that often gets lost in the daily grind of life. We relaxed and enjoyed people watching....

These two gentlemen on bikes, who were shopping at Dollar General had to win the

 'Most Entertaining' prize!

 ....and the loveliness of nature....

....and observing a different culture.

The convention coincided with Louisiana's Mardi Gras festival which was quite interesting

We even took the chance to stop on the way and visit friends we hadn't seen for years and years. It was amazing.

But you know what? Several days in, I discovered something. I was done now. You know why? My life didn't have much meaning when I was away from it all. 

God created me to fill a certain spot in this world. That spot includes endless meals to be cooked, dishes to be washed, floors to be scrubbed, laundry to be done, squabbles to be settled, tummy aches to be soothed, stories to be read, hugs to be given, tears to be wiped, lessons to be taught, truth to be modeled. Filling that spot is what brings meaning and fulfillment to my life.

In the middle of it all, it's easy to lose perspective. Being a mom is just what I do - the floors have to be swept, school lunches have to be packed, children have to be instructed and clothed and fed and loved. I forget that I am created especially for this niche, that this is where I belong; where I thrive and grow and make a difference. 

Sometimes getting what entices us makes us realize how much we appreciate what we have.

I was intruiged by the Spanish moss...

Since I am not only a mother but also a wife, I think time spent with my husband is invaluable. It is important that I place high importance on our relationship. If you and your husband get a chance to get away, by all means do it! Stop worrying about your children and all your responsibilities and what people might think.

...and the racaus, rowdy Mardi Gras parade

You don't need company paid trips and exotic destinations. You don't have to have several days; even an afternoon is great. And, maybe you don't need to get away at all. But please, do realize that you were specially created for the niche where God has you and that those daily, never ending responsibilities and demands are what really brings meaning and purpose to your life.

Go out and straighten your shoulders. Take a deep breath and find joy in the spot where God has placed you!

Writing The Word

A disclaimer here before we start: What I am going to share here is just something that has worked for me, I can almost guarantee that it will not work for everyone. Just so you know.

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The struggle to spend time in God's Word is real to many of us, I'm not sure why we tend to think we are alone. A common reason given for the struggle is finding the time. We are busy people with many responsibilities; we are moms of littles, with scarcely a quiet moment. I am sure many of us identify with that problem!

If I'm honest, finding the time to read God's Word has not been my problem. Face it, I find time to do the things I like to do. I didn't like to read the Bible.

Reading the Bible was stale and boring for me. It was a chore. Doing it was almost totally for the purpose of being able to say "At least I did it". After all, I'd been told that just the discipline of doing it was a good thing, and if I just did it it would grow on me somehow... Or I got that idea somewhere.

Well, it didn't grow.

I would have said just forget the whole idea and be done with it, except I knew some people who genuinely loved reading their Bible. People who enjoyed it; looked forward to it; liked it. How did one get to that place? How?

One day a link my friend had shared on Facebook caught my eye, "Will you join us May 1st as we write and pray our way through Galatians?" It made me curious, so I checked it out.

What I found was the blog His Mercy Is New, written by Candace, a home schooling mother of three, who lives in Tenessee. Here was a woman who obviously loved to read God's Word! I was immediately intrigued.

The day I checked out her blog, she was introducing a new Write the Word schedule for Galatians. I didn't know what that meant but my interest grew as I read on....

"Take a quick moment and think about the things you write down throughout your day. Now, you may be more digital than I am, but I still WRITE in an actual paper planner, I write down my grocery list, notes to my kids, in my prayer journal…you get the idea.

But, why do we write things down? 

We write things down that we want to remember.

Why wouldn’t we want to write down the most important Words there are?"

She went on to share her schedule for Galatians and I felt the first stirring of excitement in my heart. They were cautious stirrings, I'd tried new ideas way too many times before to be really excited but something clicked inside of me.

It should have come as no surprise, really. Writing has always been my go to -- I can't plan anything without a list, I get less done if I don't use my daily planner, I forget things unless I write them down, I untangle my thoughts best by writing them out..... Why would it not make sense that writing the Word would be the key for me??

I've used her schedule for Galatians for the past month and I have just been amazed! I want to read the Word; I look forward to reading it.

I used to read through a section of verses and when I got done I had no idea what I read. Writing it out makes me concentrate on every word and punctuation. It makes me pause and ponder. To be honest, I think partly it just works with my "writing wired" brain.

Some of you are not wired like me and I hope you aren't too disappointed. That's why I started with the disclaimer. I'm not trying to say that this is The Way and everyone should do it but maybe some of you are like me and will benefit from this idea like I have.

I haven't strictly done this daily. Some days are busier than others and if I don't get it done, I don't stress over it. Other days I have more time, and I might write out the verses for two or three days. I think God is more interested in my relationship with Him than a rigid schedule and, for me, enjoying my time in the Word is what I have longed for and what I've been finding in writing the Word.

I'm curious now if this idea resonates more with certain people and if part of enjoying Bible reading is finding what works for each type of person? What do you think?

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If you check out Candace's blog, you will find numerous other schedules for writing out the Word. I've considered sharing them here once a month if some of you would be interested?

A Relationship With God

I've always struggled with daily Bible reading; always, always, as far back as I can remember. I wrote about it here and was a little amazed at the response I got, not only in the comments but some personal emails.

Clearly, I am not alone.

The '10 Minutes With God' idea is not something I have kept up on a daily basis. I still use it sometimes, and I think it has been a helpful exercise in growing my relationship with God. But I have a confession to make: I still find myself grasping desperately for the Holy Grail of daily, personal devotions.

It's been a frustrating struggle over the years. I've struggled with wondering what is wrong with me? Why do others seem to drink deeply from the Word and my attempts end up being more like trying to down dry crackers with no drink available? How does one get to the place where reading the Word is a thing to be looked forward to, not just something to say "At least I did it"? If I am not achieving that Holy Grail am I even a Christian? Is it better to be able to say "At least I did it" than to not do it at all?

I think one of the best things my 10 Minutes With God assignment did was this: it freed me to realize that what God wants the most is a deep, personal relationship with me, and that maybe daily Bible reading isn't the only possible way to have that relationship. I discovered that the relationship was the most important thing, not the specific way I cultivated that relationship. That, just maybe, not doing it at all is actually better than being able to say "At least I did it".

Still the struggle didn't go away completely. After all, if the Bible is God's word it would seem logical to conclude that anyone in a close relationship with Him would enjoy reading what He has to say, wouldn't it?

I think I may have discovered an answer for me. I think. Maybe.

I have purposely held off writing this post for the very reason that I secretly didn't expect my answer to be a lasting one. Even now, one month into my new experience, I'm leery of claiming any sort of lasting victory. Then again, any good relationship is constantly growing and changing. What is special and fresh now might not be next year but that doesn't mean it isn't worth being excited about.

So, I will share my experience with you.

Tomorrow.

And, unlike the poem, I do actually mean tomorrow, May 26. :)

A Virtual Pan of Brownies

For the past 4-5 weeks I have been slogging along. Somewhere back there I entered a long, black tunnel and I've spent all my energy trying to claw my way to the light. Some days there doesn't even seem to be enough energy to claw; the tears come easily and curling up under a pile of warm blankets seems like an almost irresistible idea.

If any of you are like me, it often helps my blue mood to at least be able to pinpoint the problem. I've tried. And while there's lots of little things I could point to, whether real or imagined, and convince myself that they are the culprit, none of them seem to quite be responsible. One day I read an article about Seasonal Affective Disorder, which made me remember this blog post and reading them gave me more hope than probably anything else has.

I've found myself avoiding any kind of depth, both here and in real life. We all want to share things when they're over with, you know? When the crisis is past, when I've made it through the tunnel into the light, when I've discovered answers....then is the time for sharing!

The fact of the matter is, I probably already know the answers. I know at least one key to this blackness lies in reaching outside of myself - baking the pan of brownies and taking them to a neighbor, writing the note and sending it to some unsuspecting friend... I know this stuff and how it works, I've even written about it before. But what do you do when the selfish truth you can't seem to get past is this: What I really want is all the brownies for myself!!

Maybe I do need to check into some remedies for S.A.D. Maybe the light will return along with sunshine and warmth and the end of grey skies, turtlenecks and fuzzy house slippers. Until then, sometimes it helps the most to know we are not alone. Care to share your darkness...and light...in the comments? Do you have a prayer request or a burden or a praise? Share it with us! I'll bake you a virtual pan of brownies if you bake one for me.......

On Love And Grace For My Fellowman

I sat in my living room with ducked head, while the tears welled uncontrollably in my eyes. My two friends sat opposite me with encouraging smiles, sympathy written all over their faces. I felt completely silly. When you're asked for prayer requests, and this is the response you give, you should at least be able to explain why! But I couldn't. 

We prayed together and my friends retrieved coats and boots, preparing to go their way. Then one of them spoke up, "You know, it's kind of encouraging to hear that you feel this way sometimes - not that I'm glad you're discouraged!" she hurried to assure me, "But it seems like you're usually encouraging and upbeat and have things together..."

I've chewed on this ever since.     

We hear it often, that one of the pitfalls of social media is this very thing - the ability to paint one's life as perfect with pictures and words and no real life context to weigh it by. Of course, we do it often in real life too, responding to "How are you?" with a smile and "Fine!" when inside we are falling apart and further from 'fine' than anyone can imagine.

We talk about this often too - how easy it is to look at another person's life and make judgements by what we see. We know in our heads that doing so is dangerous and often faulty but somehow it's really hard to stop. After all, if I would be doing what they are doing I know what it would mean!    

It's very easy for me to post pictures of carefully laid tables featuring flowers made by mom and daughters, shiny plates and sparkling goblets, yummy food                               
with hot dishes made by the best husband ever and handmade hearts with a note on the back, with love from mom.

With pictures it's awfully easy to make life look perfect and Valentine's Day a flawless day of love and warm feelings with happy children and loving parents and the family we all dream of having.

And we are....

....Sometimes.

But the reality is that most of the time we're all normal, flawed people, just

like everyone else around us. People with hurts and problems and heartaches. People with struggles and disappointments and temptations. People in need of love and grace, not only from a Heavenly Father who redeems the brokenness but also from our fellowmen who can lift us up and encourage us on in so many ways.

            I want to be that kind of person.

On Sowing and Joy

I don't remember the first time I was introduced to the idea of loving your enemies or heaping coals of fire or it being more blessed to give than to receive. Those are all concepts that were drilled into my very being at an early age. That doesn't mean, of course, that I always live them out very well. If I had a dollar for every time I've asked one of my children, "Would you like it if they did that to you?" I would be quite a bit richer than if I had a dollar for every time they actually 'did unto others as they wanted others to do unto them'!

Sometimes we know things but the knowledge we have doesn't actually change our lives.

There are those times, though, when we are going along, living life, and we hear something explained and we have this "Aha!" moment where it's like a long row of dominoes that were lined up perfectly topple over into a pile and we say, "Yes! I like it." And suddenly something we've known all our lives comes alive in a new way and it's not just knowledge, but something that might actually change our lives.

I had a moment like that last week when I was reading an email from my dad. He was talking about Joy, and how easy it is to get caught up in the hard things of life and the busy-ness and end up with little time for Joy. Yet, the Joy of the Lord is supposed to be our strength. How do we get it? Just wait and hope that it comes? It's nice when it just shows up but is there some kind of logical sequence for having Joy?

He shared how he's been sending early morning texts to people and how he didn't know if they did anything for the recipients but that they seemed to do something for him! Then he said, "...is it legitimate for one to get a joy out of a personal contact with people that one does not get in just praying a private prayer for that same person? Could this be part of the reason We are to "love the Lord our God", but also "our neighbor as ourselves"? Loving God does something for ourselves. Am I safe in suggesting that loving others seems to also do something for ourselves if it is in actual tangible acts. Does that make sense? Theoretic love sounds nice but seems to accomplish little in us ..."

That's when I had the "Aha!" moment. I'd had this concept going on in my own life lately and I hadn't really put the pieces together. Several times recently I have tucked notes into Chris' work shirt pockets for him to discover and the fun of it was just astonishing! Didn't even matter if he never said anything about them, just the act of love put a spring in my step. Also, I've been texting a friend every Monday lately and asking what I can pray about for her week. That little act has done something for me that I couldn't really explain but suddenly things began to make sense.

Later, my dad and I were texting about his email and he explained that the idea actually came from Galations 6:8 and the surrounding text. Here's what I found when I looked it up: Galations 6:7. Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. 8. For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting. 9. And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not. 10. As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith.

"Yes! I like it."

I don't know about you, but my default mode is definitely to sow to the flesh. What a lot of problems I could solve by choosing to make sowing to the spirit a way of life!

I challenge you - go write your children each a note saying one thing you like about them and slip it on their plate at supper. Send a card in the mail to someone every day for a week. Bake some cookies and give a plate to the neighbor. Help your child with one of their jobs. Wash the dirty windows you've been ignoring. Meet your husband at the door with combed hair and a smile...... the ideas are endless.... I'm feeling strengthened by Joy just thinking about it!

The God of the Big Picture

Far away, in the halls of Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh, there's been a story going on. I've never actually met the characters in the story, but I feel like I should know them personally. For months I have followed the story, listening in awe to the miracles, joining hands in prayer for the questions, rejoicing in the answers, hurting over the pain....

The characters in the narrative are Linford and Stephanie Leinbach and their 5 year old daughter, Tarica. The story is epilepsy.

The past week and a half their story has reached a climax with brain surgery, a procedure they've been preparing for for weeks and months. Because Tarica's seizures were unable to be controlled with medication, the decision was made to accept the only hope of a cure: brain surgery. This decision was not made lightly, and many, many details have worked their way into opening doors and bringing confirmation and peace to the monumental choice that they at last settled on.

I'm not sure why this story has gripped me so tightly. Possibly because Stephanie and I have exchanged a few emails, and in the process of her encouraging me in my writing and me allowing her to edit a project, I felt like I gained a friend. Possibly also because I have a daughter who recently turned 6 which makes every step in their story a stark 'what if' in my mind. There's no doubt too that Stephanie's writing abilities add to my interest and intrigue as I follow the pictures she so vividly paints with her words.

All those reasons aside, I've realized there is something deeper to this story that has gripped me so tightly and not let me go. It is not just the empathy of one mother for another that has made my heart heavy and brought me to tears over a story who's characters I have never met. No, what has tugged at my heartstrings and caused me to look deep inside is the glimpses this story has given me of what faith in God is all about.

You see, the surgery that required so much prayer and so many intricate little details and miracles lining the pathway to it's decision; the surgery that was entered into with so much hope and trepidation, that surgery did not go as expected.

In a nutshell, the expected process was to remove Tarica from her meds before surgery. They would then go in, open her head, place a mat of electrodes inside, then close the wound temporarily while they did some other procedures and waited for seizures. Once seizures occured, with the help of the electrodes, they would be able to pinpoint the exact part of the brain that required resection.

All went well, exceptionally well, except for one detail. The alloted week passed, and there were no seizures. Two more days went by, still no seizures. Without seizures, there was no way surgery could be completed. Even with all the collected data and all the signs pointing to where the seizures most likely were coming from, resection without seizures was unthinkable.

What crushing disappointment; what a turmoil of questions! Can you imagine the intensity of emotion as a parent? But here is where the beautiful pictures come in of what Faith is all about.

Before surgery, we were asked by Stephanie, "When you pray, will you pray that God's will would be done? Would you pray that God would be glorified in Children's Hospital? We desire these more than her healing—or at least, we are trying to."

I imagine those of us reading all nodded our heads in agreement. Yes, yes this is the way we should ask, this is the way He taught us to pray. In the midst of the agonizing waiting and no seizures, it was not quite so easy to nod in agreement. Every part of us wanted to turn our face to the sky and demand, "Where are you, God?? What are you waiting for? Why? Why do it this way?"

The characters in our story are human. They readily admitted the turmoil - the questions, the frustration, the heartache, the bitter disappointment. Still, the beautiful pictures of Faith shone through.

In the middle of the intensity and emotion of waiting, Stephanie wrote, "But sometimes people die of cancer and are crippled in accidents. Sometimes babies die before they are born. Sometimes God allows bad to happen so that good, His good, may come of it. Sometimes God says "No."

If God always gave parents miracles, there would be no need for Children's Hospital of Pittsburgh.

We've been praying and praying for a miracle. The trouble is, I had decided that our miracle would be a hospital stay like the one in February, when she seized as if on a schedule and amazed the doctors and nurses. But we don't get to pick our miracles. If we could pick, they would be selfish wishes, not miracles. God is not a genie in a lamp or a wishing well to toss in our coppers.

I still believe God has a miracle for us, but maybe our miracle will not be seizures. Maybe our miracle will be the grace to accept what looks like God's "No" and trust that He has good in it for us and for her.

Right now, my heart says that would be a greater miracle than seizures."

And later, before going back into surgery to remove the electrodes and close Tarica's head, Stephanie related this conversation with the doctor, "If you had seen this kind of abnormal brain activity in another patient, would that patient have been seizing?"

"Oh, yes. Absolutely."

"So. . . you're saying that this case is an anomaly? This is an exception to the rule?"

"Yes. There is no reason why she isn't seizing."

I took a deep breath, let it out slowly. Goosebumps swept over me.

She should be seizing, according to the medical world. She isn't.

Whenever there is an exception, a deviation from the expected, I look for God, because there is the miracle.

This morning, for a few minutes in room EP7, I saw Him and the miracle He had for us. We had everything: a history of uncontrollable seizures, multiple failed medications, abnormal brain activity, a February hospital stay where her seizures went crazy, statistics proving seizures are all but inevitable for her.

We had everything, everything but seizures. An exception. A deviation. The unexplainable. A miracle.

I looked for God. I found Him, holding back the surgeon's blade.

It is both glorious and heartbreaking all at once."

The beauty of Faith makes my heart ache.

I have struggled with this blog post. I've started it and stopped it and brought it out again and searched for words to express what I've been feeling. Even now I feel like I've used up a lot of words and still failed in my mission.

The God we call Father is the God of the big picture. His vision is not confined to a little hospital room in Pittsburgh any more than His vision was confined to the prison cell where Joseph of old found himself. It's easy for us to look at the whole picture of Joseph now and say, "How amazing! What a beautiful story of faith and how perfectly God had all the details worked out." Had we been in Joseph's shoes, confined to the view in that prison cell, I imagine our comments would be quite different. And I am sure Joseph was human, like the rest of us, and that there was a lot of turmoil and questions asked about where God was and what He was up to. It was hard; hard, hard, hard. But that prison cell was only a tiny part of God's big picture.

I guess the elusive something that has touched me so deeply is this: My life is such a small part in God's big picture. That doesn't mean that He doesn't care about me or that I'm not important. He does, and I am! What it does mean is that this present moment - this illness, this loss, this disappointment, this pain, this darkness - is not the whole picture. It is only a very tiny part of a Big and Amazing picture that the One who is in control can see from start to finish. What a transformation that realization can bring to our lives! Because of that, though whatever we are facing feels unbearably hard, it is possible to place our hand in His and accept the way He is choosing, knowing it is the only way to make the Big Picture complete.

That, is Faith, and it is pleases Him.

Enough

This was written several weeks ago in the wee hours of the morning. It never felt 'right' as a blog post but somehow, at the moment, it feels ok........

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O God. I feel a desperate ache for you in this dark, ridiculous hour of 2 a.m. I feel hopelessly overwhelmed with the feeling that I cannot be enough.

I cannot be enough for these children who's lives are in my hands to be molded and shaped for such a very short time. I cannot teach enough, train enough, love enough. I am so very flawed; so very selfish and prone to failure. My mouth says one thing and my actions preach another; my mind holds high ideals and my sharp tongue sends out a completely different message. I cannot, cannot be enough.

I cannot be enough for this man who's life I am pledged to share, in sickness and in health, prosperity and adversity, til death do us part. I cannot understand enough, support enough, love enough. My vision is constantly blurred by my own needs clamoring for attention, my desire to fill his needs hampered by my desperately selfish heart. I ache to lift the burdens; to somehow wave the magic wand and pay the bills and build the house and fix the job frustrations. But I cannot, cannot be enough.

In the quiet darkness of the morning, the tears stream and I can only beg you, God, to be enough.

Beg you to teach me selflessness and humility. Beg you to tame the tongue and prompt the apologies for my never ending flaws. Beg you to fill the gaps and take my fumbling, human efforts and make them be enough for this never ending job of molding young lives.

Beg you to clear away the cloudy visions of my needs and in their place shine your light of understanding and care for another. Beg you to teach me love; the servant kind. Beg you to be the burden lifter, the fixer, the dispeller of depression and frustration and me just a vessel in your hands for encouragement and love and supporting.

I confess I tremble to leave the "how" of it for you to decide. What if your idea of fixing is something way different than mine? Ahh. I must daily lay my people on your altar, it seems, as I read of cancer and accidents and disasters. Yet I cannot, cannot be enough, so what choice is there but to throw myself on your grace and allow you to be enough??

And truly, what other choice could I possibly want but to rest in that awe inspiring knowledge that You are, always and forever, Enough.

10 Minutes With God

It was a homework assignment, see, given by our Pastor one Sunday at the end of his sermon. He assigned us 10 Minutes sitting with God every day for the next week asking, "What do you want to say to me?" And it wasn't supposed to be 10 Minutes while driving or rocking the baby or in the bathroom... Wait. He didn't actually say the bathroom part. Probably nobody else would spend that much time in there anyway! Where was I again? Homework assignment, yes.

It was an inspiring sermon that Sunday. One that brought hope to my weary heart. I was intrigued by the idea of God wanting to be our lover and I felt excited about trying the homework assignment out. Could I actually have the self-discipline to make it happen? Would God actually talk to me?

Let me just tell you one thing: Try it.

I guess I will be completely honest here. I have always, always struggled with the whole Personal Devotions thing. It has always been held up there next to .... I can't even think of a good comparison .... Perfection? Holiness? Basically I have always thought of it in capital letters as the Holy Grail of Christianity. And I've never been able to reach that Holy Grail.

I used to try. Anymore? (I can't believe how hard this is to actually admit.) Anymore I really don't even try. Oh, every once in awhile a verse comes to my mind that I look up and I'll end up reading more verses, or maybe something will come up at church that I want to check out later or I'll read the Sunday school lesson before I'm sitting in class. But a regular, once a day Bible reading time? I don't have one.

You can all close your gaping mouths now and put your eyebrows back down where they belong. I am not trying to say whether I am in the right or in the wrong in this area, I just wanted to tell you about the homework assignment.

I will just say this: those 10 minutes I spent sitting with God every day that week and asking, "What do you want to say to me?" Did more for my soul than any daily Bible reading ever has.

God actually spoke to me. Some of the time I sat there and wondered, "Wait. Did I make that up?" But most of the time it was so clearly Him that I would get teary-eyed. I felt clearly that our conversations were personal, not something to make a blog post out of, but there is one little part that I do want to share because it is so exciting to me!

There was one thing said in the message that Sunday that stood out to me: The Bible is not The Way, a Person is The Way; Jesus Christ. I don't know if I can explain why that hit me so forcefully. It's about Him! What He did on the cross; the relationship He wants to have with me! And He drove that point home one day during one of our 10 minutes together.

I was sitting there in the stillness, waiting to hear what He wanted to tell me. It had been a rather good day and it really didn't seem to me like there would be anything for Him to say. And then He said, "Sometimes lovers just gaze in each other's eyes."

Wow. Did I make that up? No. I don't think I could have. Ok, yeah sometimes they do!

"And sometimes lovers give each other shoulder rubs."

I'm sure my mouth dropped open. You want to be that kind of a lover??

I still feel this awe and amazement just thinking about it. He wants to be my lover; THAT kind of a lover! Yes, we need the Bible, "Thy word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path." But Jesus is The Way. He wants to be our lover; our friend; our comrade. He wants to rub our shoulders and gaze in our eyes and give us knowing looks across the way.

He is THAT kind of a Lover.

Maybe you'd like to try it. Give yourself a homework assignment for one week and see what He wants to say to you!

Sometimes I Wonder...

Sometimes I wonder, as I sigh in exasperation, and ask the child, "How many times have I told you not to do that?!"

Is this how my Father feels?

Sometimes I wonder, as I hear the howling for the umpteenth time in a day, "Will we ever get through a whole day without someone crying??"

Is this how my Father feels?

Sometimes I wonder, as I search for wisdom and tell the child to say "I'm sorry" yet again,

Is this how my Father feels?

Sometimes I wonder, when I've given an order and I hear the familiar "But moooooooom!"

Is this how my Father feels?

Sometimes I wonder, when I've labored in the kitchen and the sight of green beans on the table prompts a frowning face,

Is this how my Father feels?

Sometimes I wonder, when it seems all that I'm trying to teach is falling on deaf ears and is it really worth it?

Is this how my Father feels?

And then He reminds me.........

"8. The Lord is merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.
9. He will not always chide: neither will he keep his anger forever.
10. He hath not dealt with me after my sins; nor rewarded me according to my iniquities.
11. For as the heaven is high above the earth, so great is his mercy toward them that fear him.
12. As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed my transgressions from me.
13. Like as a father pitieth his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.
14. For he knoweth my frame; he remembereth that I am dust." Psalm 103:8-14

Ahh. What a Father I have!

The Love of a Father

Discouragement is --

*The layer of cobwebs along every ceiling in the house and knowing they can only be the sign of a terrible truth: I am a failure at housekeeping.

*The whiny children who also seem to constantly be bickering with each other and knowing it can only mean one thing: I am a failure as a mom.

*The everlasting 5 p.m. dilemma of "What's for supper?" And knowing I should plan ahead: I am a failure at cooking.

*The husband who has been feeling neglected and ignored and knowing this surely means: I am a failure as a wife.

*The long list of birthdays I have failed to send cards for and knowing that even here: I am a failure as a friend.

Encouragement is --

*Sitting in a Sunday school class and hearing other ladies echo the needs you are feeling and knowing you are not alone. You are not crazy or losing your mind.

*Listening to an inspiring message and realizing my Father is my Lover and He really does meet me where I am. He knows the needs of my heart and He answers those pleas for His help.

*Tears trickling down my face as I realize this world is not my home, I am just passing through...

Satan loves to get me to believe his lies. He loves to convince me to live out of my feelings of failure. Feelings that are only that; feelings. Not truth. But my Father's love is stronger than satan's evil intentions. Oh, to have Him pour His truth into my heart! This week may I be wooed by His love; may my eyes be open to see His truth.

What Makes It A Gift?

Sometimes when people gush over something I've written, I want to growl. Don't get me wrong, I also want to swell with pride and blush modestly and mumble my thanks and try to act like it was nothing all at the same time. It's just... this writing thing doesn't always feel like a gift.

I've always been able to express myself much better in writing than talking. I would 1,000 times rather text someone or write them a note or email than pick up the phone or talk to them in person! Chris soon learned that if he really wanted to know how his bride was feeling, the best thing to do was to sneak a peek in her journal. To this day if we've had a disagreement or a misunderstanding, he can almost certainly count on a text or an email or a hand written note to show up after the conversation has ended with me going silent. I will say, 14 years of marriage have taught me a lot about talking but written words are still my first choice of communication.

The problem with all of this, of course, is that people don't generally go around carrying clipboards and letting the people who express themselves better in writing carry on their conversations on paper, it just doesn't work that way! And that's why, when people exclaim over something I've written, I find myself wanting to explain to them that writing doesn't always feel like a gift.

The fact is, I suppose we all have those things - qualities that look like gifts to others but to us they feel, at best, like weaknesses and at worst like more of a curse. God's gifts aren't always wrapped in the fancy paper that I expect them to be and the plain, brown paper or rumpled Walmart bag doesn't make the gift any less a gift when accepted gratefully from the hand of the Giver. I know all that, but I still catch myself expecting the gifts to be in fancy paper with a big bow on top and come away from Sunday school class chastising myself thoroughly for sitting there silently Sunday after Sunday or berate my ineptness at spontanious hospitality and friendly chit chat.

By now you may be wondering what my point is. "Is she trying to get us to say how wonderful her writing is and please don't stop and yes, it is a gift??" No, that's not my point.

It's just this: It's so easy to look at the people around me and see the prettily wrapped gifts I wish were mine. And so easy to see only plain brown paper and rumpled Walmart bags in my own selection of gifts.

Sometimes it does us good to remember that what looks like a shiny gift to me may be the very thing that feels like plain brown paper to her. And those rumpled Walmart bags that are all I have to offer? Well, it could very well be that those might look like shiny paper and big fancy bows to her!

"But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand." Isaiah 64:8

What Feeds A Woman's Soul?

What feeds a woman's soul...

News? Sports? Politics? Doctrine? Debates?

I wonder what your answer would be?

There are many answers, to be sure, one answer not more right than another necessarily.

I sat in a circle of women today. We came in our Sunday best with our Bibles in hand and our bulletins with the alloted "lesson" printed inside. We gathered to study the Word; to listen to someone expound; to nod and possibly share some insight of our own. Our intentions were a good thing -- the Word will certainly feed our soul.

We took our chairs and arranged our skirts and situated our Bibles and diaper bags. We smiled at our neighbor and surreptitiously checked the bulletin to see where to open our Bibles. And then, honesty struck. You see, our teacher wasn't there and several of us confessed that we hadn't looked at the lesson at all! Oh well, that was ok. We would see how it went.

So, how did it go? Let me tell you...

First a prayer request was shared, then a "How is your back?" for the lady who's back kept her standing the last time we gathered. Then an inquiry to another lady who's joints are paining her and we shared our sympathy as she shared her tears and frustration. On it went - this one sharing her journey of losing her grandma, this one unburdening the struggles of her heart, that one sharing how the Lord has provided exciting answers to prayer and another sharing the frustrations of daily life. There were tears and laughter, words of encouragement and understanding, and lots of love and care passed freely among us. There was laying on of hands and prayer. The bell rang before we were through, and our Bibles still lay untouched in our laps.

I told my husband about our class and he just smiled. "Women need that," I said, a bit defensively. "They do??" he teased, as if he had no idea.

I left that circle with the clear realization that the Word is not the only thing that feeds and fills and nourishes. We need the Word, yes. Most certainly! But the sharing of needs and the hands of compassion and encouragement and love held out in return can fill one's soul to the brim. At least a woman's soul; I will let the men speak for themselves.....

A Simple Christianity

Some days it feels like there should be so much more to life. Like there IS more, I just don't know how to get to it. I read about people who reach out of their comfort zones, folks who buy food for the homeless man, visit their neighbors on the other side of the tracks, make homes for the hurting children in this world. The flame in my heart flickers over these stories, and I wonder - when am I going to stop sitting here nodding my head and saying words? When am I going to stop being moved by the idea of being Jesus in shoe leather and actually do something?

Some days I feel so shallow, so surface-y, so white washed on the outside only. I say I'm a Christian, that my debts have been paid, my sins forgiven, my life changed, my heart made new. The truth is, I feel like the owner of a fancy, elaborate computer that has the ability to do thousands of things, and all I'm doing is typing out form letters in Times New Roman! Sure, we all enjoy reading letters, but what's the point of owning it all and using so little?

Some days I long to dig deeper. What is it that I'm missing? Is there something I've failed to do? Is there more that I just need to grab a hold of? Are there things in my past that I need to take care of? Are there failures, hurts, broken places that are affecting my 'now' and holding me back?

I'm not much of a philosopher. I like things that are practical; things that are simple and uncomplicated. Sometimes I think we enjoy the complicated processes. It sounds more spiritual and holy to 'deal with the past' and allow God to 'take us on journeys'. There seems to be something exhilerating about digging into our past and examining the pain and disappointments found there. I won't say there is never a time and a place for that, but sometimes I wonder if we become so in love with the complicated that we completely miss the simplicity of Salvation.

This morning I dealt with the chaotic business of getting four children out the door and to school on time with combed hair and clean clothes and something in their stomachs and lunch boxes and all their papers signed and in hand. I've been having these "Is there something more?" and "What am I missing?" kinds of questions for the past month or so. I'd been struggling with knowing whether some pain in the past needed to be looked at and God didn't really seem to be giving a clear answer. Chris and I talked about some of this, and suddenly I felt my focus shift: I've been making everything so complicated!

Maybe I do need to act and not just nod and say words. Maybe I do need to figure out how to do more with the elaborate computer in my possession. Could it be that the way to do that is much more simple than I imagined? Could it be that establishing and sticking with some morning procedures for my children might be more important right now than feeding the homeless man? Could it be that stepping up the discipline around here and curbing some whiny, bad attitudes might be more important right now than digging into my past pain? Could it be that doing my Mom job might be what I am missing rather than some great spiritual experience or truth?

Yes, there is always more to life; more to learn and grow in. But sometimes the 'more' is so simple that I fail to see it. Simple isn't always easy, it doesn't always bring the biggest high or the most recognition but it's really all my Father asks of me. And, if there's deeper, more complicated things? I know He can show me those too!

The Prayer That Never Fails

Wouldn't it be fun to play God sometimes? I wonder how different the year 2014 would look for me if God would have handed the power from His hands to mine? I'm pretty certain I wouldn't have done everything the way He did, that's for sure!

I dare say there'd be at least two people still with us here on earth, instead of in His presence. And I would certainly have worked several miracles in order to bring at least two others into His Kingdom, instead of wandering around in darkness. I'm pretty sure I would have saved myself a lot of grief and anger and mistakes and drama. I might have even dropped a new house into my lap, who knows?

Sometimes I want to just wring God's arm to *make* some things happen! And sometimes I wonder why I bother to even ask at all. Sometimes my heart aches over the things that are completely out of my hands; the things that must simply be left in His sovereign ones. And sometimes my heart grows weary over the things that I should be doing something about; the ones that take action on my part.

Did you know there is a prayer that never fails? I know it, but I forget sometimes. It's very simple - only four words. But in those four words lies the answer to all the prayers in the world:

Thy Will Be Done.

No more arm twisting, no more despair, no more anger, no more demanding, no more struggling.

Thy Will Be Done.

Not a nonchalant, who cares, do whatever you want, I give up - "thywillbedone", but a trusting, expectant, hand open, heart willing - "Thy Will Be Done."

It never fails. Hallelujah!

On Brokenness and Hope

This ol world is so broken. I don't think I used to know that. Does that mean I'm getting old?

Seriously, brokenness is such a part of life and will continue to be so as long as we're breathing earth's polluted air. "It never ends, does it?" Someone said to me recently upon hearing more sad news. No, it doesn't. It seems to grow by leaps and bounds with no end in sight. And it seems to get closer and closer home the older you get!

Yesterday, I got news of yet another death (someone who's relatives go to our church) and the sobs suddenly overcame me without warning. Grief and pain and heartache are real and sometimes unexplainable! How do you live with all the brokenness, I wondered? The older you get the more things you are going to see, the more people you are going to need to say good bye to. How does it not just consume your life and overcome you?

I had to think of my mom and all the many friends she said good bye to over the years. I know she lost more than one really dear friend, but I can't remember her ever sitting around grieving! I'm sure there was grief, I'm sure there was deep sadness and loneliness but never despair. The simple answer is Hope. She had Hope! I have Hope.

Today my heart is heavy over an entirely different kind of brokenness - the agony of knowing that someone has lost hope; someone who's faith is hanging by a thread; someone who is standing at the crossroads and I don't know which way they will choose. And suddenly my heart has been seared with this truth: This, THIS is what really deserves my tears and my grief and my agony! This is what deserves to consume me and overcome my very being!

It's ok to grieve the pain around us, don't get me wrong - the loss of loved ones, the trauma of those suffering from illness, the good byes that are so hard no matter what the circumstances..... God understands that, He wept over loss as well! But oh, people. Let it not consume me! May the cry of the hopeless overcome me and move me out of my selfish cocoon into some sort of action! Because to be without hope is, without doubt, the most broken place of all.

*But God*

This morning I sat in church and listened to an interesting devotions. We heard about conjunctions, know what those are? They're little words that connect words or groups of words together in a sentence, like "and" "but" "or".... He said that "but" was an interesting conjunction because it tells you what's coming next is going to contradict what was just said. For example, if he said "I love my wife, and...." nobody would be too interested. If, however, he said "I love my wife, but....." everyone would immediately perk up to hear what was coming next! Then he gave us some interesting verses in the Bible, instances where the phrase "but God" was used -- Gen 50:20 "...ye thought evil against me; but God meant it unto good..." Eph 2:3-4 "Among whom also we all had our conversation in times past.... but God, who is rich in mercy..." are two, and there's many more. His point was, how many "but God" moments happen in our lives? How often do we miss them?

My mind started rolling and I thought it might be fun to go back over my life ...briefly... and check out some "but God" moments. There are so many, many of them if you start considering! And so many, many more that I probably don't even know or realize. Try it sometime!

-------------------------------------------------------

Once upon a time, there was a husband and a wife with 5 children. They were quite content with their little family... *but God* thought it good to add one more little person to their number, and Bethany Ann was born. The little girl grew and played and learned. She wished for a sister her age - for little girls her age! *But God* surrounded her with little boy playmates in her world. The little girl became school age, and soon would join her siblings in going off to the local public school.... *but God* laid it on the hearts of her parents to switch to a Christian school for her first grade year, and then, to start their own church school where she attended the rest of her school years. The young girl graduated and entered the years of youth and it's activities. She put in her application for Bible school and heard, with dismay, that her name was on the waiting list. The last chance to get in came and went....*but God* arranged an empty bed and an invitation for her to fill it at the last possible minute. Amongst the many to cross her path was a young man from a family of all boys (hmmmm...) He didn't think much of her nor she of him.....*but God* threw them together on the Yearbook staff and the opinions slowly began to change! The two left Bible School and went their ways. Both had dreams of Voluntary Service in VA in their heads... *but God* led the young man to ask a question, the young lady to answer "yes" and only her to end up in VA. Two years passed by and the young lady answered "yes" to another question, an answer that would join the two young people for life. Now the young man was from Ohio, and the girl from Arkansas, so a decision had to be made as to where the young couple would reside. The young man had a job in Ohio, a church in Ohio, a family in Ohio....*but God* moved in his heart to choose Arkansas for their home. The two spent happy years together making a home and a family and a place in their community. They moved from their rented trailer to their own land and their own house that they planned and remodeled and spent hours on together. *But God* also brought hard times. The work dwindled and the bills loomed and the money became tight. The young father worked long days with little time left for his family. There was surgery for a son and a hospital stay for a newborn. There were days of discouragement and despair, days spent learning what it meant to trust completely in the Heavenly Father...... *but God* provided a job offer in Ohio and, hard as it was to pull up roots, the time was right. The young family packed up their belongings, said their goodbyes and headed out for a new start in a new place........

There's much, much more to the story, but just that little slice is enough to make me stop and consider the hand of a sovereign God in the details of my life. Where would you and I be ....*but God*??

On Life and the Sacrifice of Thanksgiving

"Go on in all simplicity, do not be so anxious to win a quiet mind, and it will be all the quieter. Do not examine so closely into the progress of your soul. Do not crave so much to be perfect, but let your spiritual life be formed by your duties, and by the actions which are called forth by circumstances. Do not take overmuch thought for tomorrow. God, who has led you safely on so far, will lead you on to the end. Be altogether at rest in the holy confidence which you ought to have in His Heavenly Providence." Francis De Sales

I have started this post too many times to count..... somehow the words fail to flow. I've tried to ignore the whole thing and write instead of sewing projects or little boy hugs or summer activities or any number of happy, surface subjects. It doesn't work.

Somehow our two week trip turned my world on it's ear and I've been trying to right myself ever since. Issues that I thought were resolved, struggles I thought I had conquered, feelings I felt I had overcome - or at least learned to deal with - all seemed to re-surface at the end of those two weeks and I've been left feeling like somebody picked me up by the scruff of the neck and dropped me back down at ground zero! Above me is a huge gravel pile, and I've scrambled and clutched and flailed in my desperation to get back up to the top, only to feel the gravel slide and slip under my grasp and all my efforts get me nowhere.

Somewhere, down deep in my heart, I've known that my whole problem is summed up in one little saying I always thought was so dumb as a child - "You don't HAVE to if you WANT to!" But all I've seemed to be able to manage is, "Oh, God. I HAVE to do this and I don't WANT to!!" I've been at this place before, over these same old issues, and the fact that I found myself there again was more cause for the struggle than the struggle itself!

One night I took my lawn chair to a quiet corner and, while all the mosquitos in the neighborhood flocked to my chair, I looked it all square in the face. I wrote the stuff out it in all it's ugliness - the anger, the selfishness, the sadness, the rebellion.... As is often the case for me, getting it all out there is half the battle! I cried and I stormed and I slapped at mosquitos. I closed my tablet and went in and did bedtime duty while my children eyed my red eyes warily.

In the morning, I took up my planner and mapped out my day, and then I did something I haven't done in a long, long time. I'm not even sure what made me think of it, not sure why the idea crossed my mind, but in the corner, in tiny letters, I counted 3 Gifts - *Beautiful day *Big kid helpers *little boy hugs - and in that simple little act, I felt something shift inside. It felt suddenly like a window opened, and light streamed in; like my foot found solid ground, instead of the slippery, sliding gravel.

I think it was a day later that I got the email with the above quote. The third line seemed to stand up out of the text and wave it's hands in my face, "Do not crave so much to be perfect, but let your spiritual life be formed by your duties, and by the actions which are called forth by circumstances." I don't think I can even explain how the truth of it seeped down into the dry, ragged cracks in my soul!

Here is the truth: Life happens, I am human, and it will not be perfect. As long as I am on this earth there will be ugly, hard, unwanted things. There is no help found in resisting life; go with it! And never forget that there is a Father in Heaven who always, always showers His children with gifts. Hunt them down, count them up...and offer up the sacrifice of Thanksgiving. (Ps 116:17) It will open a window to the sun; provide solid ground for your feet!

When My Mind Went Wandering......

My mind went wandering in church Sunday morning. Shocking, I know. Especially considering it was communion morning! It stayed within the four walls of the church and dwelled on things pleasing to God, forgive me? Good. Cause I'm gonna tell you about it :)

Our church does not have segregated seating. And, just so you know, I've never been able to see the logic in segregated seating. Completely baffles my mind, but I digress. So anyway, I'm sitting in church, and I find myself observing the couples in front of us. (I'm sorry if you were one of those. It was all good, promise!) Let me paint you the picture.......

Here was a mother, chuckling at the eyes her son is making and nudging daddy to share the sweetness. Here was a daddy, reaching over to make the sleeping laddie on mamma's lap more comfy. Here was a couple, seperated on the pew by children, but sharing unspoken messages when daddy's lapful misbehaves. Here was a mommy, hands full with an unhappy little Miss, and daddy takes the hand off for a trip down the aisle.

I don't know if you see what I saw, but what I saw was beauty. Wasn't God amazing when He created husband and wife? When He planned for them to produce little people and nurture those little lives together? There was something beautiful about observing the working together, the love, the commitment, the "two-become-one-ness". And I marveled at a Creator who would plan it this way as my mind wandered in church Sunday morning. My heart swelled at the beauty, and I .... I don't know. I think I worshiped, even though my mind wandered on Communion morning..............

It Is What It Is

Thoughts after hearing this Elizabeth Elliot quote along with my husband's favorite response to life: "It is what it is."
*******************************
"God is preparing you for what God is preparing you for." -Elizabeth Elliot
Life happens
We wonder,
question,
struggle,
guess, ponder, speculate.....
Why this? Why now? Why me? Why?
Maybe He wants to....
Maybe this will.......
Maybe now we'll.......
Life happens
"We trust our Father", so we say.
But we sure would like to understand His scheme....
Today.
Life happens
What if It Is What It Is? What if we
Don't Need To Know?
What if we sat still and let our hearts grow?
Grow in love,
In obedience,
In grace, in patience,
In time spent seeking His face......
Life happens
Maybe It Is What It Is.
Maybe doing what we know is all that God asks,
Mundane,
Meaningless,
Ordinary tasks.
Life happens
And while we obey,
While we follow, and do what we know.
Without grappling so
For answers,
And reasons,
And figuring out His Scheme.....
Suppose what He is preparing us for
Happens?


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