Psalm 18.

Okay folks, hold on. This is gonna be a loooong post. I'm in Psalm 18, starting with verse one (there's fifty of them all together). Bible words in blue, my own in... whatever you'd call this color.

Verses 1-3
I love you, O Lord, my strength. The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge. He is my shield and the horn [the strength] of my salvation, my stronghold. I call to the Lord, who is worthy of praise, and I am saved from my enemies.

I am strong. Stronger than I can begin to describe. Not in myself. Not because of anything that's inside of me. But because the Lord is my strength. I don't understand how that works - how God can be "my" anything. But, He is.

He is so far beyond human. He is indescribable. He is awesome and beautiful. And HE IS MY SHIELD. HE is the strength of my salvation. Not me. Not my faith or resolve. Not my efforts to serve. Him. He is the source and strength. He is a stronghold. I'm anchored in Him. I'm protected. I can never be removed against my will. I praise Him. He does answer me. When I call for help, He answers. And He saves me.

Verses 4-6
The cords of death entangled me; the torrents of destruction overwhelmed me. The cords of the grave coiled around me; the snares of death confronted me. In my distress I called to the Lord; I cried to my God for help. From His temple He heard my voice; my cry came before Him, into His ears.

I have been in that place. Where death swirled around me. Destruction flooded over and around me, swept me from my feet. I was falling. Fast. I struggled to rise up, but could not. Everywhere I turned, darkness loomed. I saw no alternative. Death. Destruction. Darkness. Depression. Despair. Fear. Pain. When I began to see the reality of where I was - when I saw that truly, I was one slippery step away from utter destruction, I cried out. I cried out to God in desperation, crying "Save me." He heard. I know He did. He answered.

Verses 7-15
The earth trembled and quaked, and the foundations of the mountains shook; they trembled because He was angry. Smoke rose from His nostrils; consuming fire came from His mouth, burning coals blazed out of it. He parted the heavens and came down; dark clouds were under His feet. He mounted the cherubim and flew; He soared on the wings of the wind. He made darkness His coverying, His canopy around Him - the dark rain clouds of the sky. Out of the brightness of His presence clouds advanced, with hailstones and bolts of lightning. The Lord thundered from heaven; the voice of the Most High resounded. He shot arrows and scattered the enemies, great bolts of lightning and and routed them. The valleys of the sea were exposed and the foundations of the earth laid bare at your rebuke, O Lord, at the blast of breath from your nostrils.

Oh how I love storms. I don't believe that God is inside every one of them, showing His wrath or power. But He was in that one. I'm a visual person. I think with pictures. I see the things I remember.
Last spring, I stood at the top of a thirty foot observation tower. I was surrounded by still water, tall reeds, and the tentative conversation of a few young swans. Dark clouds rushed in, low and fast. Thunder rolled. The tower trembled beneath my feet. With a roar, the wind flattened the grass and bent trees nearly double. I spread my arms and lifted my head, marveling at this awesome power. And knowing that this was too small, too insignificant, to even begin comparing to the power of my God.

Verses 16-19
He reached down from on high and took hold of me; He drew me out of deep waters. He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes, who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support. He brought me out into a spacious place; He rescued me because He delighted in me.

This part trips me up. Remember the previous passage? About the power displayed by the Lord? About the earth trembling? Do you know how big this earth is? And it trembled and quaked, just because He was angry. This isn't some old man up in the sky somewhere waiting to pull us into his sweet embrace. This is God. So awesome and so powerful that when writing scripture, the scribes wouldn't write His whole name. And He reached down from on high and took hold of me?

Yes, He did. He drew me up out of the deep waters. He brought me into a spacious place. A wide open space where I was safe. He took care of me. He put people into my life who knew how to help. He gave them words and wisdom. He chose the bounds of my habitation, and put me somewhere I wouldn't have chosen on my own. He planted me in a loving church. Grafted me into the most amazing family. Gave me sisters. Gave me hope. Gave me love.

Verses 20-24
The Lord has dealt with me according to my righteousness; according to the cleanness of my hands He has rewarded me. For I have kept the ways of the Lord; I have not done evil by turning from my God. All His laws are before me; I have not turned away from His decrees. I have been blameless before Him and have kept myself from sin. The Lord has rewarded me according to my righteousness, according to the cleanness of my hands in His sight.

Okay. This one is hard. In my eyes, I have failed. I have not kept the ways of the Lord. I have turned from God. I've turned from His decrees and failed to keep his law (His WORD) before me. I have not been blameless. I have not kept myself from sinning. I am not righteous. I do not have clean hands. But. He has a Son. His name is Jesus. Emmanuel. The Christ. This son was perfect. This Son lowered Himself to become human. He was fully human. And fully God. He died on a cross. A horrible, painful, agonizing death. He descended to hell. He ascended to heaven. His blood has washed me. And it's through and in light of that that God views me. And because of that, I am righteous. I do have clean hands. I am blameless. It is hard to fathom - I'm quite certain I really do not even sort of understand it.

Verses 25-29
To the faithful you show yourself faithful, to the blameless you show yourself blameless, to the pure you show yourself pure, but to the crooked you show yourself shrewd. You save the humble but bring low those whose eyes are haughty.

You, O Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light. With your help I can dvance against a troop; with my God I can scale a wall.

With my God. He isn't mine. I don't own him. I can't claim his as my very own. And yet, His place in my life is as my God. To Him alone do I surrender everything. My body. My mind. My will. My emotions. My trust. My hope. My faith. My spirit itself. And with Him, I can do anything at all. Even scale the obstacle that currently looms so large before me.

Verses 30-36
As for God, His way is perfect; the Word of the Lord is flawless. He is a shield for all who take refuge in Him. For who is God besides the Lord? And who is the Rock except our God? It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect. He makes my feet like the feet of a deer; He enables me to stand on the heights. He trains my hands for battle; my arms can bend a bow of bronze. You give me your shield of victory, and your right hand sustains me; you stoop down to make me great. You broaden the path beneath me, so that my ankles do not turn.

I like this passage. I like the reminder. I like the safety. There have been times, particularly as a child, where what I really longed for was someplace to be safe. Some place where I was protected. Somewhere I could run whenever I needed to. God is that place. I can always turn to Him. Regardless of what else happens, He will never change. He'll always stay. He'll always love. He'll always give me the strength I need to fight my battles, and He'll always give me His shield of victory.

I left out some of the verses, as you can see. They are good verses. Worth reading. Worth pondering. Worth studying. All the Word of God is. It's just that at this point, I don't have anything to say about them. Finally, these last few? I have nothing to add. No comments. Let them linger in your mind a while, see what they can do in your heart.

Verses 46-49
The Lord lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be God my Savior! He is the God who avenges me, who subdues nations under me, who saves me from my enemies. You exalted me above my foes; from violent men you rescued me. Therefore I will praise you among the nations, O Lord; I will sing praises to your name.

What's this? A man?

I did a senior picture shoot on Sunday. This is a boy I've known for quite a while now - about five years. Sunday morning at church, I looked at him and saw a boy. For two hours Sunday evening, I worked with them and saw a boy.

Yesterday, I finished processing the pictures. And as I was doing so, I was shocked. Where was that boy? He seems to have disappeared, and left a man in his place. Not a very old man. And one who still has a lot of learning to do. But, still, a man.

?

Right now, I have a big "?" inside. This house project is beginning to wear on me. I'm torn between two dad's - mine and Derek's. Both irritated with the other for valid reasons. Both convinced the other is distinctly lacking knowledge. Both possibly correct. Wanting to be loyal first to my dad, but knowing that Derek's dad has sacrificed a LOT for us this summer and not being willing to do anything that might be construed as "disloyal" to him, either.

Then there's Derek's mom. I don't know how to relate to her. We push each other's buttons. Neither of us are bad people. And we love eachother very much. It's just... hard, I guess. Like most things worth doing.

Meanwhile, I'm taking my sleep-dazed self back to couch (because in this apartment, we don't go to bed, we go to couch).

1096 Days.

1096 days ago, at this time, I was in a car. A little red '95 neon that was somehow still on the road. (For those who are unaware, neons are commonly referred to as "disposable." They're not made to last.)

I was in said car with my wonderful husband. We'd been married for a whole three and a half hours. We were driving to Chicago to catch a plane to Mexico. Our marriage was still, in most ways, made up of dreams and expectations.

1096 days ago, we had no idea that within two years we'd see ourselves with five children in heaven. 1096 days ago, we had no idea that we'd only get to celebrate one anniversary with my grandmother, before she went on to heaven.

1096 days ago, we believed that we'd build our life together. We pictured ourselves restoring a home in which to raise the children we'd simply "believe and try for" and then have. We had no comprehension of the financial, emotional, spiritual and physical obstacles we'd face.

1096 days ago, we kissed for the first time. 1096 days ago, we were eagerly anticipating our "first time together." 1096 days ago, we had the worst sex we've ever had. That sounds awful, but it was. Ask any couple who were virgins when they married - that first time is a doozy.

1096 days ago, we were in love.

731 days ago, we celebrated our first anniversary. We rejoiced that we'd "made it" this far. We were mourning the still fresh loss of our child, and plunging ahead with fertility treatments. 731 days ago, we talked about maybe looking for a house to buy.

731 days ago, we were in love.

366 days ago, we celebrated our first anniversary "without her." We rejoiced in two years of marriage. We'd had 730 days together. We took a big vacation. We saw things too beautiful for words. We stood together dangerously close to a wild grizzly bear. We watched a coyote catch and reject as food some sort of small animal. We made a crazy dash back across the country for the funeral of a friend.

366 days ago, we were in love.

1 day ago, we celebrated our third anniversary over two hostess cupcakes. We rejoiced in three years of marriage. I marveled at how quickly time has gone. I felt a little sad that we've not had any "earth babies" yet. We went to church.

1 day ago, we were in love.

Today, we start our fourth year of marriage. I am still being amazed by the depths of God's love for me. I am almost as amazed by the depths of Derek's love. I am thankful for his patience, dependent on his patience. We're walking together on a journey I thought I'd never have to take. I tried when I was younger, and failed. But now, I've got someone by my side who gives me the courage and strength to do this. I am blessed to have the best husband on the planet. Sorry ladies, I know you think your man is great, but as far as I'm concerned - I got the best one, by far. :)

Today, we are in love.

He Stands Alone

We drove away slowly. I looked at the two of them, standing there. Light gently illuminated their faces. He had on arm around her waist, the other raised in farewell. She was smiling not at us, but up at him. I turned to my husband and told him to remember this. To remember it well, as I didn't think we'd be driving away to that sight many more times at all. There was a sense of impending sorrow. I wanted to remember them this way - together. Click. A picture frozen in my mind.

They walked out my front door together. Medication clouded my mind and my head. I thought about how I wished she could be without her sling. He put his arm around her shoulder and smiled. Click.

My dad walked in the door of our church. Service was over. I thought it odd that he'd show up too late. He asked to talk in private. I was scared something had happened between he and Kelly. The door closed. Derek and I stood watching him. Tears streamed and he said "Jenn, Gramma and Grampa had an accident. Grampa's in ICU, not doing very well. Gramma didn't make it." The room spun. Tears flowed. Heart broke. Click.

My Pastor walks in. I turn to him, desperate for comfort. He holds me close. I step back and see the sorrow in he and Paula's face. I see my husband barely standing. Click.

He's lying in the bed. His face is pale. His eyes are half closed. Blood speckles his face and hands. He's moaning from a pain far beyond physical. Monitors beep, people stare at the floor. Nurses hush as they approach the room. I go to him, so thankful that he is alive. As broken as his heart. Click.

The last people file past her coffin and out the door. It's just "us," the family. He approaches her, tells her goodnight and he loves her. He puts his hand on the coffin and stares one last time at her face. Every inch of his body is slumped in brokenness. He stands alone. Click.

Cold. Snow blowing on the ground. People huddled in black. Silence. He is staring at the box that contains her body. He stands alone. Click.

It's time to go home. We've been here all day, trying to fill this empty house with something other than sorrow. As we pull away, I look back. In the doorway, I can see him. Hand raised in farewell. Shoulders slumped, head ducked. He stands alone. Click.

It's Christmas. Her favorite. We are packing up, ready to go home. We've laughed and cried today. Managed to move past the ackward moments and enjoy each other. I look up. He's there, in the living room doorway, leaning on the door jam. Tears flow freely, and his face contorts with sobs held in check. He stands alone. Click.

There's only one person in line ahead of him. His face reflects the joy of the occasion. His eyes hold love for his new daughter-in-law. But there's sadness. It's deep, painful. He's waiting his turn. He stands alone. Click.

Parent picture time. Father, mother, daughter. Son, Father. He stands alone. Click.

Today

Today, I'm writing regarding Psalm 139. I'm reading it, studying it, letting it reach me. Scripture in red. All from Psalm 139. Starting with verse 1.

(1-4)
O Lord, you have searched me and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you know it completely, O Lord.

My God knows me. Me. Have you ever considered that? That the God who created the heavens and the earth, set every star in place, and measured the oceans in the palm of His hand, KNOWS me. And He KNOWS you. He knows everything we do. He knows what we're like. He knows our motives. He knows.

(5-6)
You hem me in - behind and before; you have laid your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain.

He surrounds me. He's before me, He's behind me. His hand is on me. His loving hand. His correcting hand. His guiding hand. His gentle hand. His loving hand. His protecting hand. It's upon me. Me. Flawed, imperfect me. His hand. The hand of God Almighty.

(7-10)
Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

The right hand of God will hold me fast. The right hand is the hand of power, of authority. It will hold me. No matter where I go. He's always there. He's never gone. I can never go so far away that He isn't there. In the depths, He's there. When despair, hurt, and anguish overwhelm, He is there, holding me up. When joy, peace, and life flood my being, He is right there with me.

(11-12)
If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

Darkness. I have been in the darkest of places. Not just physical places, although I've been deep below the earth in caves. In the darkest hour, when my soul longed for nothing more than death, He was there. Even though despair had clouded my vision and was shielding my eyes from the light ahead, He could see. Darkness is not darkness to Him. He can always see. Even when we can't.

(13-14)
For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

Regardless of what I think about myself, God made me. He doesn't make mistakes. He made me well. I may not have the body I would like. I may have to struggle for what others take for granted. But He made me. He made me able to see, to hear, to taste. I can walk. I can talk. My mind is quick, my Spirit alive, my soul full.

(15-16)
My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.

He knew who I'd be. He knew what I'd look like. And every day has been ordained. Every. Single. Day. He has a purpose. Each breath I take, every beat of my heart, has a purpose. He has ordained that I should live.

(17-18)
How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! Were I to count them, they would outnumber the grains of sand. When I awake, I am still with you.

When I awake. Here on earth, I wake up after going to sleep. I am still here. And so is He. And one day, I will go to sleep. And when I wake, even though I'll be far from this place, I'll still be with Him. What a glorious hope!

Here, I'm skipping past verses 19-22. Not because they're bad or wrong, but because I'm having a hard time relating to them.

(23-24)
Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.

God will show me the way. He knows every thought. I don't really know my own heart, but He does. And He sees every way in which I'm wrong, and leads me toward what's right. He leads me toward everylasting life.

Exerpt

Here is an exerpt from my own, personal journal that I keep:

I think that one of the things I appreciate most about my husband is how safe he is. He's predictable. He's stable (well, usually. We all have our moments). I love the safe feeling I have when I'm in his arms. I love how he can reach around me and totally envelop me. I like that he's much larger than I. I like how well I fit there in his arms. I like that he's strong.

There's a similar appreciation with my Pastor. He's always appropriate. It's safe to be around him. And when I most need to feel protected and safe, he's there. There's a fatherly way about his hugs... even though they're always done to the side (with the exception of when Gramma was killed), there's strength, love, and protectiveness conveyed. A certain way of gently pulling the person's head towards his shoulder. It's good.

I'm blessed to have these men in my life. Good men. Godly men. Men who love me. Men who protect me.

First Person.

Our Pastor often encourages us to write out scripture in the first person and then read it aloud. Read this with me, not just in your head. Say the words, let them speak to you.

Isaiah 41:9-13
He took me from the ends of the earth, from its fartherst corners He called me. He said, 'You are my servant'; He has chosen me and has not rejected me. So I will not fear, for He is with me; I will not be dismayed, for I AM is my God. He will strengthen me and help me; He will uphold me with His righteous right hand.

All who rage against me will surely be ashamed and disgraced; those who oppose me will be as nothing and perish. Though I search for my enemies, I will not find them. Those who wage war against me will be as nothing at all.

For I AM is the Lord, my God, who takes hold of my right hand and says to me, 'Do not fear; I will help you.'

Isaiah 54:10
Though the mountains be shaken and the hills removed, yet His unfailing love for me will not be shaken, nor His convenant of peace removed, says the Lord, who has compassion on me.

This one, I'm not putting into first person. I'm leaving it as is.
Isaiah 55:6-11
Seek the Lord while He may be found; call on Him while He is near. Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the Lord, and He will have mercy on him, and to our God, for He will freely pardon.

"For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways," declares the Lord. "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. As the rain and the snow came down from heaven, and do not return to it without watering the earth and making it bud andflourish, so that it yields seed for the sower and bread for the eater, so is my Word that goes out from my mouth:
It will not return to me empty, but will accomplish what I desire and achieve the purpose for which I sent it."

Upheaval.

The last two weeks have been full of upheaval. So much that has been the same for so long is suddenly changing. We've moved to a temporary apartment. We'll be here for somewhere between 60 and 120 days. The home of my childhood is no longer recognizable as such. Which is good, considering our intentions, but still... I'm feeling less and less compelled to give birth to our own children, and leaning more and more towards abandoning all treatments. Memories I have suppressed for years are coming to the surface, and I'm trying to figure out how they play into today. Then there's job upheaval. And the recent head injury. Current clotting problems. The growing (literally) pain inside that pushes me towards yet another operation.

And yet, it's all relative. When I start thinking about it all, it seems overwhelming. But it's like God hardwired us with a safety switch. One that only allows so much into the conscious thought process at a time. Because really, this doesn't so bad at all. Well, that, and read these verses with me. I love the fact that no matter what else changes, my Bible doesn't. God's Word is immutable, infallible, and utterly dependable.

Jeremiah 29:11-13
"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart."

Philippians 3:7-11
But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ - the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith. I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of sharing in His sufferings, becoming like him in His death, and so, somehow, to attain the resurrection from the dead.

Revelation 22:12,13
"Behold, I am coming soon! My reward is with me, and I will give to everyone according to what he has done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.

There is peace and comfort in the Bible. There is stability and reliability. Even (and especially in) times of upheaval and uncertainty.

Clean.

Tonight, or rather, this morning, there is one verse I cling to. I won't detail why... it's not relevant to most who might be reading this. The verse is found in John chapter 15.

Verse three says:
Now you are clean through the Word which I have spoken unto you.

Now. I am clean. Through the Word. Which He has already spoken to me. When life gets spiritual, emotional, or figurative dirt on us, it's washed off. Through the Word which He has spoken to us. I need that. I need to be reminded of that. Daily. Because daily, I am in need of not just forgiveness for my sins and shortcomings, but also from the dirt this world gets on me. There's more to it, but I won't share here. It seemed that God directed me to this passage yesterday, when I was seeking comfort in the only sure place - His Word.

Today, Part 2

Part two.

I've been thinking about God's mercy. Because in NO way do I deserve forgiveness. And in no way can I maintain right standing with Him. I screw up more than anybody I know. Probably because, like me, other people do a good job of hiding their screw ups. But I can't hide them from myself. So I see the flaws, the failures, the iniquities. And I hate them.

I usually don't "feel" saved. Sometimes, I don't "feel" anything, really. Sometimes, I don't "feel" like going to church. Or reading my Bible. Or praying. And that bothers me. God is so much better than that. And yet...

His mercy. It's new every morning. And no matter how muc hof a failure I am, no matter how much I mess things up, He's there. Always. He promises to never leave or forsake us. And He never does. Because unlike people, God doesn't lie. Ever. He can't. He won't.

Reality?

Something I wonder today is this:

Is there some way, some concrete method, of determining whether a "memory" is in fact a memory, and not just some strange imagining? If so, how does a person go about doing so? And what of the answer? What if the answer is "yes?" Then what? Does knowing that this memory is indeed factual impact life? Is the impact worth it? Is there a benefit to knowing?

But what if the answer is "no?" Then what? How does a person who "remembers" something so vividly go on to accept that this "memory" is in fact "imagination." Does the fact that their imagination "got away" need to be addressed? And what would inspire one's mind to create such things?

That's what's on my mind at the moment. I'll write more later regarding something that's on my mind regarding God. :)

Boxed Out and Bottled In

Packing is less than fun. I wish that they sold automatic packing devices. Something that would go through my home and box up everything and put nice little labels on. I realize we could hire movers for that, but... some strange human digging through MY stuff? Nuh-uh. NO way NO HOW. Right now I'm staring at my office, which has become a pile of boxes and a generalized heap. I'm boxed out for now, so I thought I'd do my "therapy" for the day and write.

The writing helps. Some people tell me I write well, that the communication is well articulated and personable. Whether that's true or not, it's not the reason I write. I write to share me. And in sharing, there's healing. And there's hope - hope that maybe, as people see me triumphing because of what God has done, they'll see hope for themselves.

The thrust of today's post, though, is bottling things in. I do it. I know I do. I know I shouldn't. And yet... I rarely let all those stupid emotions out. It's not so much out of shame or embarassment, and it's not really out of self-sacrificing for the good of those around me. It's a habit, of sorts. More than that, it's engrained in who I am. I don't know how to NOT be like this. I was learning, way back when before my Gramma was killed. But it was so new and foreign that as soon as the storm rose up in front of me, I reverted. I've spent the last 30 months or so more in survival mode than in "thrival" mode. I'm surviving, for sure. I didn't think I would. Didn't know HOW I would. Didn't know if I even wanted to try. But I am.

My dreams of late have been revealing the extent of my bottling up, though. Last night's dream was unique. I dreamt that I was one of an entire room full of hostages. I dreamt that the hostage taker took a "liking" to me. And while it was unpleasant, I dreamt that I had the compassion to see this man for what he really was - hurting, lost, alone. And out of that compassion, I shared my story with him. My secret story - the details of an early childhood that only one other person on this planet has ever known completely about. I pray that that person has forgotten those days - there is no use in remembering. Only pain. In this dream, sharing that touched the hostage taker. He ended up letting everyone go. We were talking about praying when my alarm went off, so I'm not sure what my brain would have had him to do.

It's interesting... always, at every turn in my life, there has been someone. Someone who loved me. Someone who saw me as special. Someone who was removed from my situation and chose to become part of it. And in this present situation, there's nobody like that. God's given me the strength and provision to be okay without that somebody, but it's certainly uncharted territory for me.

Back to bottling things in. Bottled in emotions come out whether we want them to or not. If we resist, it starts as little things - back aches, headaches, stomach aches. If we keep it up, we withdraw further. We get angry, sad, hurt. We feel alone. Keep it up even still, and we turn to things that are hurtful and addictive. That's the danger. And when we're "down" the devil lunges. He's not powerful, really, but he has words. And he uses them as weapons against us. He whispers ideas into our heads that we'd never invent on our own. He brings back the same illogical thoughts until they seem to make sense.

If we let it out, we can stop these last things from happening. It's the only way I know of.

I'm beginning to not make sense - this time for physical reasons. I haven't eaten yet. And I'm hungry. And my suguar is low. Which makes it hard to concentrate. Plus, my arm is fascinating to me right now. Have I mentioned yet that it's purple? Yep. Purple. And a bit cold. But actually less painful than it was yesterday. As I said, bottled in emptions have a way of coming out somehow...

Heavy Load.

Right now, I am heavy. In so many ways, in so many areas.

Something is up, physically. And no, I am not pregnant. I wish I was, but I'm not. A myriad of symptoms, neurological, hematological, and musculoskelatal, maybe endocrine. That's as specific as I'll get. The exactness is irrelevant. What's relevant is that I'm fighting fear. And I'm fighting doubt. Both have been trying to creep in. Questions pop into my mind... what if it's _____? Or _____? Or worse yet - what if the stress of life is just making me crazy and my mind is deceiving my body without my consent or knowledge? Anyway... whatever is going on has caused me to gain weight. I've been eating a lot less, working/exercising more, and have gained weight. Which is wierd - I've always had to fight to gain even a pound, and suddenly 14 pounds in less than two weeks? I'm not fat yet... but if this continues, it won't take long.

What else... I've been struggling with our home situation. Not home situation as in my husband beating me or anything of that sort. But our home situation as in we don't have one as of the 31st. We turned in our notice here, which is something I'll get into next paragraph, anticipating that our house would at least be habitable by the end of this month. Nope. Not even close. It's not really anybody's fault, per se. Sure, if we'd all busted butt the last three months to the point of nearly dropping, maybe we'd be a lot closer - but probably still not there. And so we are finding ourselves scheduled for help moving on Sunday. But right now, our only visible option (which isn't even a for sure one) is moving into a tiny, cramped apartment in a run down building in a neighborhood known for drug raids and crime. I know that my God must have something better - but fear we've missed it somehow.

Going back to the turning in our notice... I pressured Derek, saying it was the right and honorable thing to do, so that our landlord would be able to find a tenant without a lot of overlap. He should not have listened - I was wrong. We should have said "We're renovating a house and will be out by the end of this year, and we'll endeavor to be out before winter." Oh how I regret being so pushy - I've gotten our family into a fine pickle.

I've been struggling with my marriage. Not as in I want out or I'm afraid he's unfaithful or anything. But as in "what in the world was he thinking marrying a person like me?" And in spite of wondering that, it bothers me that he hasn't had the look in a long time. I have been trying to go back to being the woman he fell in love with, but... I feel like I'm falling apart, and his dreams are falling apart with me. Does this sound as crazy as I think it does?

Tonight, we had our church's leadership meeting. Pastor was talking about physical pain - and about how it drains a person. Until they feel like they are hanging on by a thread. I look back at the last several months... and there has been increasing physical pain. There has been emotional strain. There has been financial strain. And it's drained me. I was that person he was referring to - at least, I was one of them. He encouraged us, somewhat firmly, to hold on. To keep struggling, keep trying. I need that reminder. It wouldn't be the same cominf from any random person, or for that matter, from any NOT random person in my life.

The final thing that's been bugging me is that I've been considering having surgery. Again. To remove endometriosis. Again. And just considering that makes me feel so faithless, so much like a failure... Jesus bore my sickness and infirmity on the cross. I don't have to. And yet, here I am, considering surgery for a chronic illness, yet again. This month was worse than last month - I'm bleeding more, hurting more.

So for tonight, that's all I've got.

Hope.

Jeremiah 20:11-14
The Message Bible

...I'll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I'm doing, but have it all planned out - plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for. When you call on me, when you come and pray to me, I'll listen. When you come looking for me, you'll find me. Yes, when you get serious about finding me and want it more than anything else, I'll make sure you won't be disappointed. I'll turn things around for you."

For right now, that's all.

Love.

An ocean wide? Maybe so. I don't know - I think it's bigger than all that. God. God is love. If the people I know, who can't even begin to compare to Him, can love the way that they can... how much more He must love.

And that, when I ponder it, overrides everything else. And I couldn't help but consider the words of this song tonight... as we looked at the sky. Something about low, rushing clouds makes the sky seem so much bigger. And God's mercy is even bigger than that.

For now, that's all I'll write.

Wow.

As if things weren't crazy enough...

Our passenger side seat belt is broke. Not sure if I can figure out a way to fix it or not. But that's an incidental...

The crazy thing is this:
This morning, I went to work. My plan, and everyone else's belief, was that I would go in, pick up my work release note allowing me to return to work in HR, take said note to the Occupational Health Clinic, get a quick check, and be sent on my way to work. No such luck. HR sent the note off in interdepartmental mail. No clue where it went. OH couldn't approve me to work without the note. Finally, a copy was found - stating I could return to work following my neuro exam. SO... they sent me to MY clinic, to the neurologist, to beg for a note. I waited two and a half hours, to be brought back by a nurse. Who was just as confused as me. And I am the one with a concussion. :( So, she asked a bunch of questions, did a quick exam, and sent me home to wait for her to call and advise.

Two hours after THAT, I get a call. Based on the scans, the exam, and my answers to questions, I am NOT cleared to work. One more week off. BORING. And frustrating. And totally unfair for my employer. Then, one week of four hour days, provided I am actually feeling better. More phone tag followed this news, and I'm still waiting on my supervisor to acknowledge. AGH!

Overwhelmed...

So today has been significantly overwhelming.

It started this morning when I woke up and realized that we've got less than a month to finish our house. I'm frustrated - it seems our contractor (a.k.a. my father-in-law) doesn't understand that even if it means having to go back and be inconvenienced somewhere down the road, we NEED to get the house done. Because if it isn't done, we're homeless as of July 30th. It continued with the knowledge that if we were to let our cats go - i.e. be adopted out and find new forever homes - it would mean that being without a house could be dealt with for a while. We can live in a tent. I can't stand the thought - we committed to them. And I love them. Especially Furbis. But... I don't see any alternative right now.

Then, we came home from church and I found Furbis in the laundry room, very sick. We took him to the vet, who said it could be a URI, or maybe blood poisoning. She also said that awful word - FIP. :( This has to be turned over to God - I just don't know what else could be done.

Now I'm sitting here, feeling guilty about missing praise and worship service but too worried to leave Furbis alone.

The part of all this that is scary is how hard it is for me to not be offended at a whole lot of people right now. Before we started this project, we asked quite a few people if they'd be willing to help. Almost all of them said yes, and that we could count on it. One couple has been up three times, another once. That's it. So the work has fallen all on us and on our dad. Which is definately not fair to him - he's supposed to be retired. So if you read this and you pray, please pray that I'd stay out of offense. Because no matter what happens, whether we're treated rightly or wrongly, it is still wrong to take offense. It opens the door for a bunch of negative things, plus, it's just plain wrong.

So, in summation: My cat is sick. He'll either get better or he won't, and there's not much we can do about it. Without a tangible miracle, our house won't be ready for us to move into. Meaning whether Furb lives or dies, the others will need to be rehomed, some of our stuff stored, some of it sold or given away, and we'll be in a tent. Because apparently, we need to be out of here by the end of the month because the person interested in renting is about to be evicted from his/her old apartment. We're finding ourselves asking what we did wrong, what we could have changed or done differently, so that we'd have help right now.

There's something else too, but I don't think a blog is the place to write about it. Too public. And it would be too easy for people to find themselves offended. SO... I guess for today, that's all. Just some unloading.

Did I mention my husband had to get stitches in his hand?

Heartbreak, Heartache, and Restoration

Hearts. Not the thing that pumps blood. The thing inside us, that is who we are. They can feel so much joy. So much peace.

Or so much pain.

Life so often hurts. I've heard people say that their heart is broken. I've been there. Broken hearted. Heartbreak goes beyond hurt. Heartbreak is when you've had so much hurt, and you're still in the middle of everything painful, and you don't feel anymore. I've been there. It's awful.

I've also had heartache. Heartache - that pain inside that is physical. It goes beyond sorrow and it goes beyond desperation. It can bring you down, and affect every decision and action.

I look back at my life... there's been a lot of heartache. I've been abandoned. I've been abused. I've been violated. All before the age of 6. I've been depressed. I've seen hope deferred. I've been the only child of a single parent with an illness of unknown origin. I've been afraid I was dying. I've been hurt. I've been suicidal. I've walked so far from God that I didn't know if I could go back. I've had the person who I depended on most ripped away by death. I've blamed myself for that. I've blamed others for it. I've stopped caring. I've inadvertantly broken relationships. I've deliberately broken them.

And in all this? God has provided. I look around me, and there was always, always someone there for me. I've never truly been without. My parents loved me. They always have. I know that. But my family was broken all the same. That's hard on a kid. There were things that happened that I kept from them, even at such a young age. It was a big burden, but easier that way. And yet, although I didn't share it with anybody else, God sent others to help. As I grew older, and things started to matter more, I noticed that people just cared so much. There's nobody I know who hasn't let me down at one time or another - because they are like me. Human. And capable of error. Imperfect. But they were there. There's a lot of them... when I was younger, they were mostly men. My daddy, for one. Alan, for another. But those were expected. And as strange as it sounds, it's the unexpected that really stands out... my martial arts instructor, who never looked at me as though I was crazy, and took the time to really get to know who I am. My other martial arts instructor, who was an outside influence, a mentor, believed in me, believed I would make it when nobody else did, and was a true friend. Yet another martial arts instructor who saw potential and took the time to remind me that there is always space for compassion. A doctor from Pennsylvania who finally helped me see that the connection between soul, spirit, and body is unbreakable. And that if I didn't take care of the first two, the third would break down. A deacon in a new church who opened his house and family to me if ever it was needed. A Pastor who knew my "darkest deeds" and looked me in the eyes and told me I was wanted, and that there was a place for me in "his" church. Friends I didn't know were friends. A husband who somehow, through the craziness of the last almost 3 years, has never wavered in his affection. Who somehow still sees me as an amazing, beautiful person. And those are just the ones that pop into my mind quickly.

I know people who are lonely. I know that there are those who feel like they've got nobody. And I know how that feels. Because in the midst of all those people who cared, I was alone. Nobody knew my secrets. Nobody knew the depths of the pain I felt. At least that's how it seemed. Today, on the other side of much of that, I can see God. I see His face in the smiles of the people I listed above. I can feel His touch in their hands and hear His voice in their words. And I know now that even in my darkest, deepest moment of despair, He was there. And His love is unconditional. I have a hard time wrapping my mind around that one. I know my failures, my shortcomings. I know my deliberate sins and the tendencies I have. And I know that sometimes, I feel totally unlovable. And yet, His word says that His love endures forever.

This is the restoration part. The part where I look to heaven and see my King. The part where I am broken on my knees, and He whispers to my heart that He was always there, he's never left me and He never will. The part where I finally begin to see that He truly does love me without merit. And to see that I'll never, ever be able to stop Him from loving me. That's the part the restores me.

I Will Live

Shortly after my Gramma died, I was in a dark, dark place. I stayed there for months. Sometime in June, I was at church. We were singing a new song with the line "I will live to love you. I will live to bring you praise. I will live a child in awe of you." I think that to a lot of people, these were/are just words to nice worship song. But as I sang through it for the first time, I got to thinking.

At that time, I didn't necessarily want to die. I wouldn't have done anything to accelerate or cause it to happen. However, I didn't want to live, either. I, like everyone else I know, would prefer not to be miserable. And while I wasn't suicidal, and I wasn't seeking to harm myself or cause pain to anyone else, heaven was more appealing than ever. There was no will or desire to live.

People told me to "live for her" or to "live for Derek" or "live for God." All of that was nice, but... not particularly inspiring. But as we sang that song, I realized something. It's not about me. I don't live for me. I don't live for kicks. I don't live for fun. I live... for Him. And not just staying alive. I live to love Him and serve Him. Then and there, I got on my knees. I made a promise to my God, a sacred promise. A promise with more meaning than most readers could know. I promised to live. I promised that, not because I was feeling inclined to do otherwise, but because to me, it's the best promise I can make. To live. It means more than simply maintaining respiration and heartbeat. It means choosing life. That's a whole other entry for a different day. But it meant a lot to me.

Anyway, that's where I'm at today. Thinking about that promise. To live.

It's Been a While

So it's been a while. For a lot of things. A while since... I've gotten a full night's sleep, because we've been blessed with the opportunity to bottle raise yet another litter of kittens (well, only two of them this time, but they still eat often). It's been a while since... I have been able to think of Gramma without regret, guilt, and sadness. It's been a while since... my husband and I have spent very long laying in bed talking. It's been a while since... we've prayed together every night. It's been a while since... I last wrote here.

Meanwhile, something's been bothering me. I'm not ready to write here, yet. But it pertains to the book I'm reading - "Driven By Eternity." I do want to write about it - and I want to share it. However, right now, I'm just not ready.

Today, a paragraph really jumped out at me from the book. It's found on page 78 (and for the sake of not stealing, this was written by John Bevere):

"It is complete ignorance for a Christian to disdain an individual who has not received Jesus as their Master for his or her lifestyle. This person's spiritual DNA is to sin, and that is just what he does. What is freaky and completely unnatural is a "believer" who habitually or willfully sins..."

The paragraph goes past that. But I got hung up on that. First, on the the first sentence. It IS ignorance - or hatred - that cause a Christian to disdain anybody who isn't a Christian for what they do. How can we expect any different?

The second part gets me though... the part where it is freaky and completely unnatural is to sin willfully or habitually after being saved. Why? Because I am saved. I often don't feel like it, but the Bible says if I believe in my heart and confess with my mouth, and Jesus is my Lord, then I am saved. But... I have committed sin. Willfully. After being saved. I've even done some things repeatedly. When I was in high school, I fell. Far, and hard. I was so far from God - in my heart. He never left me - I can see that now, when I look back. I was so deep into destructive and hurtful (to others and myself) behavior, depression, unforgiveness and hatred that I (thankfully) can't recall it well enough to even imagine it. That's not what bothers me, so much, though.

Why? Because on May 8th, 2002, a good friend and her family took me with them to a "new church" they'd found recently. At that service, God intervened in my life in a radical, undeniably tangible and visible (and provable) way. When we got there, I was overcome by the atmosphere of worship and love for God. I repented then and there. The rest... well, that's a story for a different day. Suffice to say, I wasn't the only one blessed that night, and I wasn't the only person touched by the changes just in myself. I look at that as my "coming home" after clearly fitting the description of the prodigal. I was the one who was out with the pigs, wishing I could stomach the corn cobs because it was the best I could do for myself. Not literally (I've never been in a pig pen in my life), but figuratively. Spiritually.

But since then? I've willfully sinned. I've lied. I've spoken badly about people. I've been hard toward my husband. I've been selfish. There is one particular instance, which I won't discuss here in such an open format, that stands out. Why? It was deliberate. It was willful. It was a sin of commission. It was outright rebellion. And the consequences? Let me just say the ripples can still be seen today. God didn't punish me for it. But doing so opened the door to the devil to wreak havoc in my thoughts and life. And that bothers me. Mostly because it opens the door to doubt... would I have done that if I was really saved? I know the answer deep down - yes. I'm saved. Redeemed. Spiritually re-born. But I'm still stuck in my body. Flawed. And my soul (mind, will, and emotions) is flawed. I know that. And I know we all sin. But... it bothers me to know that I could so openly rebel against the God who sent His SON to die for me.

Before this makes less sense, and before I get more tired, I need to go to bed. But I'll endeavor to write more frequently in the weeks to come.

Not much to say just now...

God is the author of beauty. And I'm thankful He lets me occasionally capture some of it.

Just For Now

Just for now, I will sit on the current thoughts that are keeping me up at night. Not out of fear or embarrassment. Not out of uncertainty. But out of the desire to not write anything that would be inaccurate. I can't even write, really, what I feel. Because I just don't know exactly what that is. Troubled. Concerned. Bothered. Shaken. Those would be a place to start. For now, I'll move on. I'll come back, I promise, but not right now.

For now, I'm moving on to chapter five. I'm taking the following text from pages 75 and 76.

"God didn't desire robots in the garden that oculdn't freely choose to love and obey Him, so out of a myriad of trees, one was placed in the midst of the garden with the following command, "You may eat the fruit of any tree in the garden, except the tree that gives knowledge of what is good and what is bad. You must not eat the fruit of that tree; if you do, you will die the same day" (Gen. 2: 16-17, TEV). The death He spoke of wasn't physical death, for Adam didn't experience physical death until years afterward (also a result from his disobedience). Instead, the Lord showed man he would be cut off from the life of God and take on the nature of Lucifer, which is death."

Seperation from God. I can imagine nothing, nothing more painful. There is nothing I fear, nothing I dread, more than the notion of anybody I love being separated from God. In my life, I've despaired. I'm not talking about sorrow, nor am I referring to tears, pain, agony, or loneliness that results from life. I'm talking about true despair. The sort that isolates a person from everyone they know. The kind that consumes your conciousness. The weight, the darkness, that settles on one's shoulders whether they are asleep or awake. The inescapable unbearable pain. That which makes a person choose to end their own life. I was blessed. Fortunate. A servant of God was there for me. Someone cared. And someone, because of the grace of God on their life, was able to lift me up. But even then, even when I sat on the edge of my bed staring at a bottle of alcohol and a pile of pills, I was not truly separated from God. How do I know? Because something deep, deep inside prevented me from following through. I can guarantee it wasn't my own "will to live." It was God. I didn't have to not do it - I could have chosen to continue that path, but I didn't. (I'd like to say, right here and now, that this blog is not, has never been, and never will be about suicide or people who've attempted (or succeeded) it). Today, and every day, I am thankful for His intervention.

But part of what moves me, what pushes me to put one foot down in front of the other and keep running this race, is that He didn't save me just for me. To clarify: Yes. Salvation is His gift. It is for me. Only I can receive it for myself, and I can only receive it for myself. But I'm not saved just so me, myself and I can go to heaven and have pie in the sky, by and by. I'm saved to be with God. Forever. And I've got time on this earth in which to make my decision. I've got time to tell others. And I've got time to get to know God - just a little. Here, I can't truly know Him as He knows me. That's beyond my comprehension. But heaven is just a place. Granted, the most extraordinary, beautiful place ever created, but a place all the same. The part that makes heaven worth spending an eternity in is God. Himself. How does a person even begin to fathom that? How can a place hold God? How does He fit?

For tonight, that's all I'll write. That which is heavy in my heart is still heavy. But not ready to come out yet.

Perspective

What's your perspective? What's first and foremost within you? What has priority? What's the most important thing in your life?

It SHOULD be God. But the problem is, other things tend to catch and hold our attention. Things take priority, but they shouldn't. Things like... babies. Sex. Marriage. Houses. Jobs. Those things are all significant, and they are very important. But they aren't the most important thing in life. I struggle with perspective sometimes. Sometimes, I forget to pray, because I'm too busy wondering if the meds are doing their job. Sometimes, I don't read my Bible because I'm scrambling to submit yet another job application. But, even though I am prone to do that, God is bigger than my ability to mess up. He's bigger than anything I can do. He's bigger than anything I can not do. He's bigger than any mistake I've ever made.

Right now, I have to focus on God. There is something I can see, something that helps my focus stay where it should be. Something that brings a little bit of perspective. It's a special something - so special, that I can't cheapen it by publishing it here in a blog.

Anyway, that's all for today. I'm tossing around with some things I've been reading in my Driven By Eternity study. Things that are significant and important and I'm just not comfortable writing about them, yet.

Are You Ready?

Today, the thing I'm wondering about is this... are you ready? He's coming. My Bible says He is. I'm not trying to "preach" or to sound condescending or anything of the sort. Just... He's coming. Please be ready.

My concern, the thing I can actually do something about, is whether I myself am ready. Am I? Yes. I love His appearing. I can't wait.

This One Thing...

There is one thing I want. One thing that I will spend every day of my life doing everything in my power to obtain. One thing that I hold dear. One thing that I truly feel is worth fighting for, sacrificing for, and struggling for. What is it?

It's been said before. Said well. In Psalm 27, verse 4:

One thing I ask of the Lord, this is what I seek: That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to seek Him in His temple.

And truly, in spite of anything else I may desire and seek or long for, this is my deepest desire. My deepest longing. The one and only thing in this life that is worth longing for. The only thing that can universally keep me up is the thought that others may not long for this, and worse, they won't have it. It's not my judgement, it's not my choice. It's not something I would ever, for any price, choose for someone else. There are two options for eternity: Heaven and Hell.

Listen to what God said in Deuteronomy chapter 30: 11-20:

Now what I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach. It is not up in heaven, so that you have to ask, "Who will ascend into heaven to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?" Nor is it beyond the sea, so that you have to ask, "Who will cross the sea to get it and proclaim it to us so we may obey it?" No, the Word is very near you; it is in your mouth and in your heart so you may obey it.

See, I set before you today life and prosperity, death and destruction. For I command you today to love the Lord your God, to walk in His ways, and to keep His commands, decrees and laws; then you will live and increase, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land you are entering to possess.

But if your heart turns away and you are not obedient, and if you are drawn away to bow down to other gods and worship them, I declare to you this day that you will certainly be destroyed. You will not live long in the land you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess.

This day I call heaven and earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that you and your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to His voice, and hold fast to Him. For the Lord is your life, and He will give you many years...

This is significant. The choice between death and life is ours. The decision is made by us. We choose life, or we choose death.

Today, I choose life. And the thing that really jumps out at me, that really registers within me, is this: "Choose life, so that you and your children may live." My children are all in heaven. Each spent a time in my womb, but the time was too short. I couldn't tell you the color of their eyes, or the way they would laugh. I don't know if they are boys or girls (with the exception of our daughter, whom God revealed to us). I don't know what they would have enjoyed here on earth.

But today, this day, I choose life. I choose His ways. I choose His will. So that I and my children may live.

Half full, or...

I took this picture during a particularly unpleasant season in life. At the time, I didn't know why I liked it - just that I did. I hadn't been looking for any particular result when I took it - mostly, just using my telephoto lens to capture exactly what I was seeing. After a few weeks, I came across it in the middle of a bunch of meaningless, useless photos. This one stuck out, but I couldn't identify what it was that was appealing.

That was about a year ago. I found myself drawn again to this picture tonight. Why? I just like it. And when I look at it, it fits my mood. No matter what that mood may be. On dark and dreary days, I identify with the darkness. And the light seems to be just barely there. On happy, hopeful days, I feel drawn to the light. It seems to dominate the photo, and makes it all seem happy. It reminds me of the picture I've seen - where if you look at it one way, you see a beautiful woman. But looking at it a little differently yields an old hag. This picture yields both light and dark. They are reperesented almost equally. And yet, the viewer's mood can make either the light or the dark become exclusively dominant.

Driven By Eternity - Day 8

Therefore let us go on and get past the elementary stage in the teachings and doctrine of Christ (the Messiah), advancing steadily toward the completeness and perfection that belong to spiritual maturity. Let us not again be laying the foundation of repentance and abandonment of dead works (dead formalism) and of the faith [by which you turned] to God, with teachings about purifying, the laying on of hands, the resurrection from the dead, and eternal judgment and punishment. [These are all matters of which you should have been fully aware long, long ago.]

In other (my own) words, eternal judgment isn't just something some people have come up with based on some obscure passage or their own interpretation of the last little dash at the end of the line. It's not just real, not just relevant... it's elementary. In the book, in Chapter 4 (I'm skipping notes on the story of Affabel - I don't feel right about trying to condense it and I won't plagiarize. http://www.messengerintl.org/ Go to the website, order the Affabel series. It will be worth your time, I promise). Anyway, back to chapter 4... following that scripture, Rev. Bevere writes,

"One dictionary defines elementary as "constituting the basic, essential, or fundamental part." It's the essential part we must have right from the start to build upon; it's a foundation."

To me, this means that we can't move on beyond those basics until we get it. We may get tidbits - just as a baby occasionally gets a little morsel of mommy's food. But we need these foundations before we can truly move forward in our walk with God.

Maybe I'm unique, but I'm hung up the eternal part of this judgment. Judgment isn't necessarily bad... it can be good, too. As in the judgment to award someone compensation for a wrong done to them. It's not the judgment part that concerns me. God is just, He is Holy and Righteous. Of course there will be judgment. Our works aren't in vain. Or, rather, they don't have to be in vain. Some things we do here will be gold, silver, or precious stones in heaven. Other things, things that may not be bad or sinful but are still not for the Kingdom, will be wood, hay, and stubble. They'll all be tried by fire, and what remains will be purified gold, silver, or stones. The rest will be waste. I get that. I understand that. We need to remember that while we're here, because once we're there, it will be judged. The part that throws me, that concerns me, that keeps me awake at night, is the eternal part. While we're here, we can always say "Well, I'll get to that later." There's the notion that we'll have a chance to make it right, to do better. But once we get there... that's it. There's no more chances to do works that will yield a lasting reward. If we come through that fire with nothing but our lives, it is infinitely better than spending eternity in Hell.

But... we'll all find ourselves before Christ, wanting with everything in us to lay our treasure at His feet. As a way of thanking Him. For those who are saved but have nothing to show for it, they'll have one thing - a palm branch. A pitiful offering. I don't want to be one of those. And it's eternal. I've not seen any scripture that indicates that once we get to Heaven, we can do anything to earn more rewards or to change our status. That's the scary part... knowing that here on earth, I am choosing my eternity. Not just where, but how. And that's why I've only read one page of chapter four tonight. Because this is one of those things that keeps me awake. That messes with my head. That messes with my own theology and desires and beliefs.

The other thing that gets me is this... He is coming quickly. Come Lord Jesus. I want Him to come. But really, I don't think I actually get it. If I got it, would I live differently? Maybe. If I knew for a fact that in exactly one week He was returning, what would I do? What if it was one day? What if I knew it was in an hour? Would my sense of urgency increase? Would I be so concerned about offending people? Or would every second be spent warning people that He's coming. And it's not like if you're on the fence about it, you'll be given a chance to say, "Oh, wow, I guess that I should change my mind and follow Him" and then still get to come with us. It will be in the twinkling of an eye. We, the believers who are going, will have a brief warning - the loudest, most majestic trumpet blast we'll have ever heard. But the rest of the world? It's clear in scripture:

"No one knows about that day or hour, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son,[f] but only the Father. As it was in the days of Noah, so it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. For in the days before the flood, people were eating and drinking, marrying and giving in marriage, up to the day Noah entered the ark; and they knew nothing about what would happen until the flood came and took them all away. That is how it will be at the coming of the Son of Man. Two men will be in the field; one will be taken and the other left. Two women will be grinding with a hand mill; one will be taken and the other left."

Matthew 24:36-41

See? That's what it will be. Nobody is going to CHOOSE to stay - the choice is made before hand. When you choose whom you will follow. We've been learning in church about how in the last days, it will become possible to see the difference between wheat and tares. In other words, instead of having a bunch of people who appear saved, and not being able to tell who is and isn't, it will be clear who truly belongs to God. Maybe I'm wrong, but it seems to me that as each day ticks away, it becomes more obvious who in this world has a relationship with my King and who is truly and eternally lost. And that, too, keeps me up at night.

Flop Flop Slap

That's the sound fish make when they're out of water, gasping for breath. It's the sound I would have made, had you been listening, yesterday. Why? Did something earth-shatteringly bad happen? Nope. What happened is I took my eyes off my God, off my Provider, off my Strong Tower. And put them on my circumstances. Which most of us know is just a bad idea all around. Of course - God took care of it. We've got the solution, which isn't ideal or perfect, but it will work for now.

Meanwhile, our house project is moving along at a staggering pace. Destruction city! We are removing ALL of the drywall from inside, as well as the insulation. Gutting the house down to the studs. I'll try to post some pictures later. This will be worth it in the end. I have to keep telling myself that. And I have to keep the vision before me - the vision of a comfortable, energy-efficient, beautiful home. Because THAT is what we're all about here... a place where ministry can happen. We want our home to be used for the glory of God, in whatever way He sees fit.

We also want to be able to get our loan approved and pay my dad, so he can stop paying interest on something he should already have. If that makes sense, I'm impressed.

Other news: today marks the first "icky" day of this cycle. Headache, tired, body aches, super heavy bleeding, cramps, pain, the whole deal. In spite of that, I am noticing a distinct lack of pain in my left ovary, meaning the gigantic cyst I grew earlier this month is probably all gone now. :)

Driven By Eternity - Day 1.

Today, I am re-starting a study I began about this time last year. It was written and prepared by John Bevere. I'm going through the workbook, reading the book, watching the teachings. It will take us through most or all of this summer. I may share some brief exerpts here, but I want to be careful not to infringe on any copywrites.

"No one can begin to understand eternity."

Job 3:26, TLB

"He has put eternity in their hearts."

Ecclesiastes 3:11

I've thought a lot about eternity... and I don't get it. I know it's in me, somewhere. Otherwise, how would I know that I don't get it? Eternity is forever. It doesn't begin, and it doesn't end. Nothing that we can experience on this planet is like that, and our minds don't get it.

Below, I'm including a paragraph from this book, which sums up this concept so well. It is taken from the book "Driven By Eternity," written by John Bevere, and copywrited 2006 by John Bevere Ministries, Inc. All future quotes in this dark blue color are from this same book.

"What is in truth declared unreachable to our natural mind is placed in our heart by the Creator. Eternity is known in our heart. It is born in every human being. This is why "the fool has said in his heart 'there is no God'" (Ps. 14:1, emphasis mine). Notice Scripture does not say, "The fool has said in his mind." There are many athiests who emphatically deny the existance of God, but in their heart they know He exists, for it is planted their. They've not yet hardened their heart to a complete degenerated state."

(Pages 4, 5)

I know that right now, I don't have any real understanding in my mind of what eternity is. I know that it's forever - but what's that? What does it mean to have no end? No beginning? And how does what I do now, today, on earth, impact that? Over the next months, I'll be learning.

Life.

Today, I'm thinking about life. Not so much about whether I'm satisfied with it or about how hard, or easy, it is. Today, I'm thinking about the end of life. Or rather, the end of what we here on earth refer to as life.
I know that we can't stay here, in this flawed and corrupted body, with our flawed minds and emotions. I know that to depart and be with Christ is by far the best. And I know that those who have gone and are with Him are better than they've ever been. They're perfect, surrounded by perfection, surrounded by the epitome of love and light. I don't mourn for their sake. I'm not sad for Gramma. I'm don't regret that Anna never knew more than that. I don't wish that Mary was somewhere else. I know that there, Natalie is whole. And I know that the time will come when I will finally know them all in the form God intended from the start. And that is comforting.
Meanwhile, what about us? We're left here to deal with those final moments. Some moments are more peaceful than others. We are trapped in this place, where memories are vivid and pain is sharp. Where we have to find some way to keep living - even if those memories paint pictures in our mind every time we close our eyes. It's up to us to choose whether we'll let it push us away from God. In time, we'll be stronger for it - most of us know that. Meanwhile, what do we do?
My answer isn't profound. It's not helpful. It isn't a salve to bleeding hearts, and it won't crack stoney anger. But it's something we can really do. A tangible, physical action. We keep on keeping on. We get up in the morning. We go to work, or to school. We clean our home. We read our Bible. We go to church. We love our family. We pray. We worship. And we trust... we trust God to get us through. We trust that He's not left us ill-equipped. We trust that we really do have what we need. We trust that His Words are true. And we do it all again tomorrow.
Eventually, we find that we're a little "better" than we were before. The death of our loved one has forced us to contemplate our own demise - and to get things "right" with God and those around us.
Over the next several months, I'm going to be using this blog to sort some things out for myself. I ask that you be kind with your comments, and realize that this isn't being done so much for you as it is for myself. I'd do it privately, but I hope that by allowing readers to come along, I can maybe help some of you.

Thoughts. Words. Deeds.

Deeds... actions; choices; consequences. They all go together. Sometimes, the choice we make, the action we choose, can have consequences that reach further than we could ever imagine. Some affect days, weeks, months. A few will impact the next several years, maybe even decades. Some will even change the course of the rest of our life. But then there are those that have eternal consequences - the big ones, that impact where we will spend eternity, and how we will spend it... those are the really important ones. The ones that truly matter. And yet, those things that "merely" impact the remainder of our earthly lives can seem so big, so profound... and the consequences can seem insurmountable and all-encompassing. So what do we do when we are standing face to face with the result of our deed? Whether that deed was good or bad, whether the consequence is favorable or terrible, we then have to choose how we will let it impact us. We may not have any say in the physical events that follow, nor in how those events will alter so much. But we do choose how those events will change us as a person. Will it make us stronger? Will it makes us more cautious? More bold? More decisive? Uncertain? Do we choose to embrace forgiveness for wrongs committed, or do we choose a lifetime of guilt and condemnation? If this life shakes and rattles us, do we get back up? Or do we stay down for fear of falling short yet again?

Words. Words are so powerful... not just the verbal representation of various concepts or ideas, but also our tone, our inflection, our intended meaning. But mostly, our words themselves. If we speak only truth, we find our faith growing stronger. We find our ability to discern sharpened. If we speak only lies, we reap only doubt. Our faith falters, fades, and eventually disappears. We don't trust, don't believe, and eventually are unable to distinguish truth from falsehood. If we speak truth one day, and lie the next, our faith struggles. We lose trust in our fellow humans, and find ourselves uncertain at critical moments in life. We can use our words to help and encourage other people. In a matter of seconds, we can lift another's mood, bring a smile, a laugh, or tears of relief. We can calm fears, squeeze out loneliness, and comfort heartache. Or we can be bringers of destruction. We can sow sorrow, fear, and uncertainty. We can choose words that will cause another to become filled with self-doubt, shame, or embarrassment. So we must be so very careful what we say, and how we say it.

Thoughts. Thoughts are perhaps the most difficult area of our life to control. Our thoughts can get us into trouble or out of it. We can allow them to lift us up or tear us down. The tricky part is remembering that we are in control of our own thought life. We may not be able to prevent things from popping up in our head, but we can certainly choose to over ride those thoughts. We can use words and deeds to tame our thoughts. And if we're uncertain what we've been thinking on, those same words and deeds will reveal it. We are to think on those things which are good, perfect, beautiful, noble, and right.

So much I want to write tonight, so many thoughts and questions rolling around. But for now, anyway, I will keep them to myself.

How I long for children. NOt just any child. I long for Anna. Especially this time of year... my beautiful girl's birthday is Monday. I know it's only a due date, and she could have been born at ANY time, if she had gotten the privelage to be born at all. But, it's the closest I have. And I need a day to remember her. It's just so hard this year... I don't have my gramma to lean on. And I don't want to say anything to Derek... he's not struggling with it now, and for his sake, i want it to stay that way.

Looking for a job... I'd really like to get in at a photo studio part time. It would give me a chance to get some real-life practice and training, and provide income, all without having to spend a whole bunch on equipment. I am now officially the "un-nanny." My baby is no longer my baby. I'll sure miss him... but I really think this is for the better.

Today I am going to go out in the marsh to take pictures (maybe) and for sure try and find eagles or hawks or SOMETHING... I look forward to being financially able to obtain the mega telephoto that I want. My ability to get those really great shots will go up SIGNIFICANTLY at that point. But it's not the focus right now.

Now, what I really wanted to write... we're four days out from Annaliah's birthday (or due date, rather). She was due December 17th of 2006. It is amazing how much joy that little one brought to so many, without even being born... and how much sorrow accompanied her early departure. We've been pregnant four times - and lost it each time. There are several factors that have contributed, none of which I'll share at this point. Anna was the one that impacted us the most, and impacted those around us the most. She's in heaven now, with my gramma. They're dancing on golden streets, falling before the throne, singing praises. And oh, how I miss them most. I am so glad that last year, I had gramma to help me through this anniversary of sorts... it's tough. And this year... in some ways, it's much harder. Nobody else ever talks about her, and I don't think anybody remembers her due date. I'm certainly not about to start reminding people - I've got the idea that this is one of those things that a mother stores in her heart. Because really, I am a mother. There are souls in heaven that are a product of the love between my husband and I. We knew Anna the longest, and I think that is why her absence is the most painful.

It seems that lately, so many well meaning people have made comments to Derek and I regarding having children... "When you two finally decide to have a baby, then..." or "When are you going to have children?" or "Weren't you pregnant a while back?" or my very favorite... "It's good that you're waiting to have kids. Being parents is so much work, and involves so much sacrifice..." Usually I just walk away. But, it's hard. What I'd like to do is turn and say, "First of all, we ARE parents. We have FIVE children. They are blessed and they do not live on this planet. We are blessed for having the privelage of uniting to bring them life, and blessed with the knowledge that they will never suffer the trials of this life. And we miss them more than you probably can know. We haven't chosen this road - we would prefer, for our sakes and for the sake of those we love, for all five of those children to be with us here. We'd like to watch them grow, to teach them to walk, to talk, to love... but the true proof of our parenthood is this: like any truly loving parent, we want only the best for our children. And the best for our children is heaven. We are not angry or bitter or jealous. And we see the blessing in knowing that we won't spend nights agonizing over the salvation of any of them. And we are happy for them - happy that they are indeed, more than anything we've ever known, perfect, healthy, complete, and full of joy. Since our last miscarriage, a year ago January 5th, we've been struggling to get pregnant again. We've gotten some answers about our losses, and have steps we can take to prevent them in the future. But for a variety of reasons, pregnancy is not an easy thing for us to obtain. Without help, medical professionals feel that we would NEVER become pregnant again. So before you criticize us for the treatments, or congratulate us on the choice to wait, please consider what it is you are really trying to do. If you're trying to build us up, pointing out the benefits of being childless is the worst way to go. We are not childless -we've got five. We are not waiting - we're plunging ahead with fertility treatments, racing to stay ahead of the disease in my body and struggling to keep our heads above the financial waters. If you'd really like to help, pray. Pray for success with our upcoming IVF. Pray for financial provision. Pray for peace and comfort during this season, as we should be celebrating our daughter's first birthday. And take a closer look at your children, and say a special prayer of thanks."
I do wonder what would happen if I turned to someone and said that...

Happy-sad.

This is one of those things that most people don't know. So as to avoid spreading news that isn't mine to spread... I'll just say that someone I know and love very much is soon to marry the spouse of their dreams (and of the dreams I have for him or her). The result is what I've always wanted, but... it will mean that instead of 30 minutes to go see this individual, it will be at least a 2 hour drive. But what a small sacrifice to see this happen! Looking at sometime this spring.

Second, I spoke tonight with my dad about my gramma - how much we miss her. How much we wish certain things could have happened. He's dating a woman who only got to meet Gramma one time (or was it twice?) before the accident. He was having a hard time on the way home from church last night, thinking about how much he wishes his girlfriend could have gotten to know her. I wish that too - my Gramma was an absolutely amazing woman and his girlfriend deserves to have known her. Now it won't happen this side of heaven.

Finally... We're on supression meds right now, and will be for the next three months, until we are ready to embark down the road of IVF. Lots of turmoil surrounding that. No issue with whether we should or shouldn't - that's been decided for quite a while, and we've got peace. The turmoil is in dealing with all that comes with it. Finances, while certainly not a deciding issue or factor, certainly are still an issue. We can swing it - by God's grace. We'll be paying it off for at least a year or two, barring significant outside help, but it's worth it. We've got faith that this will work the first time. I don't have any doubt - not really. The question does get shoved into my head from time to time - what if it DOESN'T work - that's a lot of money down the drain? But My God IS God, a faithful God. We truly believe that this is the way for us to go, and the way that HE would have for us to go. Most of the turmoil is in the arena of support. My dad is supportive and by far the best dad on the planet (I'm biased, but so what?) My father-in-law is supportive too. My mother-in-law wants a child (or children) for us almost as badly as we do, so there is definately support and compassion coming in there. But I miss Gramma - I could talk to her about it all, and she knew what to do (usually), and if she didn't know, she'd say so. She didn't understand all the time, but was as supportive as anybody could be. I had a vague idea at one point that I would have similar (probably not as much or as "close" as with gramma) support from my mom. Thought maybe I could talk to her about it, like when I was much younger and we talked about everything. But it's not happening. She's convinced that all the fertility treatments are sin, messing with God's will, and probably going to result only in heartache and likely death. :( I tried to tell her that we'd done our research, done our praying, and consulted with spiritually mature people on the matter, and that what I need is support, not constant nay-saying and gloom-and-doom prophesies. She said she was sorry. And then that she was entitled to her opinion, and as long as we were doing "that stuff" (referring to fertility treatments) she would voice her concerns, as she'd done a lot of reading. (What reading? If properly administered and monitored, many fertility treatments are safer than a lot of conventional treatments for things like asthma, eczema, depression, insomnia...) And that she'd make SURE we knew how worried and concerned she was. But that we'd have her full support. I guess I don't see those as going hand in hand. Mentioning concerns or fears, asking questions, yes. Spending twenty minutes of a twenty two minute conversation telling me how badly we're screwing up and going to get hurt... not so much. **shrug** I guess this is really my chance to lean on God for support and comfort.

Time.

I'm not complaining - I've been blessed with more "free time" than most people I know. And it IS very nice to have that freedom. Trouble is... sometimes it grates on me. I'm trying to start up our business, and I feel like with no direction, no input, and no interaction, it's a dead-end road. I know it isn't - I trust my husband on this one. It's just frustrating right now.

In the time since I wrote last... many things have changed. And yet, in a lot of ways, everything is still all the same. I'm still learning to paint with oils - although the last two and a half weeks have been anything but conducive. My husband and I are still trying to have a baby. Well, sort of.

I just had another laparoscopy to clean up a little bit of endometriosis - turns out that was a misconception we had going into it. This second surgery was far more extensive (AND PAINFUL) than the first. I had a hysteroscopy, too, which has caused some issues (18 days out of surgery, I'm still bleeding quite a bit, and it shows - I'm tired, weak, dizzy, but mostly I'm just COOOOOLLLLLLDDDDD all the time.) that are FINALLY starting to resolve (I think). I'm on a hormonal medication for my uterus and also on birth control, and as soon as I finish this particular hormonal med, I'll be moving on to a much heavier-duty one for the next several months.

briefing

I guess I'm not sure what I should write, or even what I'd LIKE to write. Other than to say this...

I haven't forgotten her. And I haven't forgotten the shock, the pain, the gut-wrenching agony of losing her. And it still comes back, some times. But it's more appropriate now. More in context, a little more hopeful. And yet...

I wish she was here. So much I wish she could guide me, and us, through. So many questions. But most of all, to tell her that her life mattered. To tell her the she is my hero, the one person on this planet I truly want to be like. And that she is an incredible blessing.

I Wish I Knew...

I wish I knew exactly what I'd done to get to this point in dealing with Gramma's death. What point is that? The point where I do still miss her, very much. And I often times still cry when I think of her. And I'd do almost anything to bring her back, because I still need her, and my little cousin Hannah needs her far more than I. Grampa needs her. My husband needs her. So many people need her... and she's not here.
And yet, with all this, there is the unspeakable peace and joy (although not the sort of joy you might imagine... this is more of a deep-down-know-that-I'm-okay-forever thing than a happy ha-ha-fun thing). I KNOW that she is in heaven. And as I was reminded last night... to depart and be with Christ is by far the best. God didn't say how or when... at any time, under any circumstance, it's by far the best to depart and be with Christ.
I feel that I am most privileged to be part of my church. I know he is "only" a man... but I also know that my Pastor is truly obeying the call of God for his life. I've known pastors that weren't called, and while they do their job very well, that's sort of what it is - a job. As my Pastor has said before, he doesn't "do pastoring" for a living... he simply is a pastor. In that, I'm blessed.
Finally, the thing right now that is hardest about not having Gramma is not really having any outside support regarding fertility treatments. It's a lonely road, and a tough one. Having someone to talk to about it, someone who wasn't personally going through it, someone who was older and wiser, made it so much more bearable. Without that, it does seem overwhelming. I'm not saying I've got no support at all. I do have that. Mostly and firstly from my husband, but also to lesser degree from a few (and yes, only a few) family members, as well as a couple people I do look up to. But the general consensus does seem to be that I'm going against God, or doing something blatantly sinful, or lacking faith by doing this stuff. One of my dear forum friends provided this helpful story...
A man is at home one night when the levee breaks in his town. Water is rising fast, and he cries out to God to save him. A couple minutes later, a man comes by in a boat, and says "Get in... I'll help you." The first man declines, saying his ride is taken care of. As the boat fades from view, the man again cries out to God. A few minutes later, a larger boat with several people in it approaches and implores him to get in. He refuses again, saying that God will save him. He cries out again - desperately this time, as the water is at least 10 feet deep and cold - and implores his God to save him. Less than 30 seconds pass, and a Coast Guard helicopter hovers above him, and lowers a ladder. Refusing once again, the man sadly begins swimming for the distant shore. He drowns, all the while waiting for God to come and save him. He goes to heaven, and asks God, "Lord, I asked you three times to save you. I stood in faith. I believed. And yet I died. Why?" The Lord answers "I sent you two boats and a helicopter... what more did you want???"
What people need to understand is that it takes a lot of faith to undergo the treatments we're doing. Faith that we won't have any side effects. Faith that the treatments will do what they are intended to do. Faith that in spite of a distinct lack of support, we'll be okay. Most of all, faith that our miracle will happen. Because even with the treatments, the procedures, the monitoring, the medications... for us to conceive and carry and give birth to a child will be nothing short of miraculous. I wish I knew a way to make people see that.

Once Again...

Last time I wrote here was the day before a meeting with my Pastor. It does seem only fitting that I'd write again now - exactly 28 days later. Tomorrow evening, we've got another meeting with our Pastor. I'm not really sure what about... well, obviously, it's about gramma. The uncertainty comes in when I try to contemplate what will be said. Not much by me, I'm sure - if all I needed was an ear, any random person of compassion would suffice. What I need is guidance. Not flakey platitudes, not reassurance that I'm doing 'just fine' and I really don't need to be reminded that it's not my fault. I still feel that it is, at least in part, my fault. Not that I did it on purpose, but more that some things I've done set of a chain reaction that eventually led to this.

This meeting will see me in better shape spiritually, which is good. My husband says that I've improved emotionally, which is good as well. Inside, I am not sure I feel at all better, but for the most part, I am better. Not all better. But some. When I do think of her, I still cry, a lot. And when I don't think of her, I feel sad for not thinking to do so.

Unfounded Fear

I have an unfounded fear that tomorrow's meeting may hold rebuke for me. And I don't know why I'm afraid of that prospect, except maybe because I don't know what I've possibly done wrong. It certainly isn't fear of rebuke, or fear of rebuke by my Pastor specifically - I've been rebuked fairly sternly before by him and it isn't a bad thing. He's the first person I've known who could so sternly rebuff/rebuke and still be oozing compassion and concern and Godly love.
The other fear I have is that he'll ask if I blame myself. And the mere question implies innocence, complete innocence, on my part. And that isn't reality. Reality is, specific actions that I can trace back well over a year headed up a chain reaction, and while I did not cause the milk truck to obliterate the van, I do firmly adhere to the belief that what happened can be directly traced to my actions. And that had I chosen to respond differently, had I chosen faith and obedience over outright rebellion, she would still be here. And in his questions, I'm afraid I'll have to get specific. I doubt the answer of "within the last two years, I willfully and deliberately committed an act of rebellion" will be satisfactory. I have told God, and only God, when I confessed and repented, truly repented, and NOBODY else has a clue what it could be. And awful though it sounds, the thing that scares me most about revealing it in the meeting tomorrow is having to see the disappointment and sadness on my husband's face. How lame is that?
All that being said - even if I have to spill every gory detail - I will do it in order to restore right standing in my life. Because if I don't change I'm on a bad bad road, and it will lead only to destruction. And worse yet, separation from God. And that is the one, the only thing that I can not do without.

Bring The Rain
~Mercy Me

I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with
all that I've gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You
Maybe since my life was changed

Long before these rainy days
It's never really ever crossed my mind
To turn my back on you, oh Lord
My only shelter from the storm
But instead I draw closer
through these times

So I pray
Bring me joy, bring me peace
Bring the chance to be free
Bring me anything that brings You glory
And I know there'll be days
When this life brings me pain
But if that's what it takes to praise You
Jesus, bring the rain

I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what's a little rain
So I pray

Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord God Almighty