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.