Monday, June 22, 2009

I Made It For You.




This morning, I was still up when the sun started to rise (if you follow me on twitter, you'll know that my heart did its thing a bit last night and I ended up having to take something for it). Anyway... the sunrise looked like it promised to be a good one. I slipped outside in my jammies, and walked across the neighbor's field to stand at the edge of the valley. It was quiet. Peaceful. Birds were singing. The flowers blooming at the edge of the field were filling the air and my head with their fragrence. As I stood there, the sky seemed to catch fire. It started slowly - just the clouds on the eastern horizon. But it spread, rapidly, until the entire sky was red, quickly moving clouds. It was amazing.

As I walked back toward our house, I prayed. Thank you, Lord, for the beauty around me. You created such a beautiful world. And then, a still, small voice - softer than the dew on the grass, and mighter than the biggest storm - spoke to my heart. "I made this for you."

He did. He made this world for us. For us to live in, to dwell in. It's a mere shadow of what it was made to be. And even so, if we'll allow Him, God will never cease to amaze us with His creation. Take a minute today to look around you and notice what He's done. The amazing, beautiful things He has done.

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Friday, June 19, 2009

Calm In the Storm



Tonight, my husband and I stood outside our home. In the field that meets up with our driveway. And got these two pictures. All around, I could hear thunder... I could almost feel it. And lightning was flashing all around. And yet... it was calm. Peaceful.

I admit, there is something about a storm that is just downright attractive to me. I crave standing in the midst of them. With power all around me. Rain pouring down. Arms stretched out. And in the midst of those storms, God is so near. And that's why I crave them. I crave that closeness. That nearness. That reminder of how awesome He is - there is no storm on earth that could compare to His power, His might. And still... He loves me. What a privilege.

Tonight, there is someone dear to me, whom I have never met, who is walking through a storm. Right now, it's raging so loudly around her and her sweet son that Idon't know how she's able to hear anything else. And yet... I know she is able to. She loves her God, and trusts Him. And I do too. Will you pray with me? Pray that her son's life would be preserved. That his heart would be calmed. That the doctors would have wisdom to know what to do next. And pray for his parents. That they would remain aware of His presence. That they would not be overwhelmed by fear or trepidation.

Please pray... you can get updates here.

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Thursday, June 18, 2009

When I Say I Am A Christian.

I was browsing through some random pages today, and I came across two poems entitled "When I Say I Am A Christian." I'm going to include them here... because I like them. A lot. And I wish I would have thought to write them myself.

When I Say I Am a Christian
Carol Wimmer - (C) 1988

When I say "I am a Christian"
I'm not shouting "I am saved"
I'm whispering "I get lost"
That is why I chose this way

When I say "I am a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride
I'm confessing that I stumble
And need someone to be my guide

When I say "I am a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong
I'm professing that I'm weak
And pray for strength to carry on

When I say "I am a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success
I'm admitting I have failed
And cannot ever pay the debt

When I say "I am a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect
My flaws are too visible
But God believes I'm worth it

When I say "I am a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain
I have my share of heartaches
Which is why I seek His name

When I say "I am a Christian"
I do not wish to judge
I have no authority
I only know I'm loved


I'm A Christian
Maya Angelou

When I say "I'm a Christian"
I'm not shouting "I'm clean livin'!"
I'm whispering "I was lost..."
"Now I'm found and forgiven."

When I say "I'm a Christian"
I don't speak of this with pride.
I'm confessing that I stumble
And need Christ to be my guide.

When I say "I'm a Christian"
I'm not trying to be strong.
I'm professing that I'm weak
And need His strength to carry on.

When I say "I'm a Christian"
I'm not bragging of success.
I'm admitting I have failed
And need God to clean my mess.

When I say "I'm a Christian"
I'm not claiming to be perfect.
My flaws are far too visible
But, God believes I am worth it.

When I say "I'm a Christian"
I still feel the sting of pain.
I have my share of heartaches
So I call upon His name.

When I say "I'm a Christian"
I'm not holier than thou...
I'm just a simple sinner
Who received God's good grace, somehow!

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Tuesday, June 16, 2009

The Winds of Change.

Updated. Again:
So, lots of changes here. One of which involves removing the music that used to play. I did it to make things load more smoothly. You can vote to keep it gone or to bring it back (poll is located on the lefthand side of the blog). Because really - the music is for you, the reader. Let me know - you've got a week!

On another note - I plan to take a slightly different direction in coming months - one that is more reader focused. When I originally started this blog, it was about me. And me only. I had no intention of ever sharing it with anybody other than my writing teacher who had requested that all of us in the class do so. Then, my grandma was killed and it became an outlet as I worked through grief unlike anything I'd known. Then it moved on to being just random snippets.

Now, I'd like it to transform again. I want to address things that you, the readers, want to know about. I'm not a teacher, preacher, or anything else. Just a woman. Who loves her God. And longs to bring Him glory through the words I write. SO... if there is an issue you'd like to see addressed, something you'd like to say, or you'd like to request prayer, leave me a comment or send me an e-mail (use the link on the right) - I'll get back to you as soon as I can. :)

Updated:
Okay. I'm not done. But I am done - it is way too late for me to be up. I'm fighting with how to make my widgets have their own border and color. I figured it out before, but now something is amok. Oh well... that's for later. :)

Original:
I'm about to make some major changes to the layout of this blog... I apologize in advance for the fact that it's going to look pretty shabby for a few hours - but I promise that it will look good when I'm done. :)

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Monday, June 15, 2009

Yesterday.










Yesterday, I was up with the sun. It was so beautiful, that I had to wake up my husband to show him. This is what we see in the mornings, from our bed. We are so blesssed!


Moving on - yesterday was mostly unproductive. I did accomplish one thing, though. You see, we have two salamanders. We got them when we were helping some people move - they were hanging out by their basement door. When we got them, they were about four inches long and very unhealthy in appearance - gray, skinny, dry, wrinkly... just generally "unfit."

They live in an aquarium. Which, after we moved, they totally trashed. Dug up the plants, put dirt in the water, generally mucked it up. So yesterday, I spent about five hours redoing it. I'm pleased with how it turned out. I think they are too.

I did make them a couple hide-outs - one for in the water and one for out of the water. But they aren't in the pictures (obviously).

I guess it's just a week for redoing things, eh?

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Friday, June 5, 2009

A Picture. A HAPPY Picture.

Nice picture, eh? I was sitting here today, wishing I could find something to do that would be at least semi-productive. So I decided to brows through the pictures on my flashcard that haven't been downloaded.
When I did that, I found this picture:
I saw some potential with it, but nothing fantastic. But... as all true PaintShop (or PhotoShop) addcits will do... I decided to play a little bit. So, Play I did.
This is what I came up with:

If you want some information on how to turn this:

into this:

You can head on over to MckMama's Blog. She's got some pretty great photography posts. And I am too lazy just now to do anything of the sort. So I'm passing the baton, or something. Head over, check it out, and learn. :)

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Sunday, May 31, 2009

Nope. Not Me. Not Today.


So MckMama..." is a phrase frequently uttered in our home, by myself and my husband. MckMama is one of those rare people who lets herself be seen by others. She lets us see her as she follows Christ - flaws and all.
Each week, MckMama hosts a blogfest called "Not Me Monday." Not Me Monday is, in a nutshell, a no-cost-involved self-therapy program designed for people like me. It gives those who participate full license to disclose all of those details that we usually keep carefully hidden. It also allows us (the participants) to read about all of the things that other people definitely did *NOT* do this past week.

So here are my "Not Me Monday's." Be sure to head on over to MckMama's Blog to check out more, that are probably more entertaining than mine could ever be.
  1. I am an not the co-owner of an actual, real-life house. Because my husband and I didn't sign on the loan and title on Friday. And my dad didn't take us traipsing around in the woods to celebrate, and then buy us yummy food. Nope. Not me.
  2. If that had happened, though, I certainly wouldn't have doggedly carried my camera with me. While hiking through weeds on steep hillsides. Wearing flip-flops. No. I don't do that.
  3. But... if I were to ever do such a thing, the highlight of the evening definitely would not have been the biggest millipede I have ever seen... except for on tv, of course. But if that were all true, that millipede would have looked something like this...
  4. I am not seriously lacking in the "Not Me" category. Because I don't work for a place that doesn't want me blogging about work. And if I did, I certainly wouldn't spend vast quantities of time there, so much so that I feel like it's where I live.
  5. I am not cutting this post short in deference to my husband. Who is finding the noise and intensity of this storm a bit intimidating in regards to household electronics. I can tell he's not used to weathering storms while on top of a ridge...

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Saturday, May 16, 2009

Forgiveness.

I have wrestled with this post for quite a while. I’ve prayed. I’ve studied. And I’ve prayed more. And then I’ve chickened out, not posted it. I’ve argued with God, using the logic that I’m not a teacher. Not a preacher. And truthfully, I’m not. As long as I’m being truthful… I don’t always pray over what I post. Actually, I rarely do. I should – after all, I have no idea who will be reading, or how much it will impact them. And so I should be carefully guarding what is said here.

But that’s not the point I’m getting at.

I’m addressing forgiveness.

As a believer, I am called to forgive. It doesn’t matter what I do, I can’t get around that fact. I’m going to start with Galatians 6, verse one.

“Live creatively, friends. If someone falls into sin, forgivingly restore him, saving your critical comments for yourself. You might be needing forgiveness before the day’s out. Stoop down and reach out to those who are oppressed. Share their burdens, and so complete Christ’s law. If you think you are too good for that, you are badly deceived.”

It’s time for transparency. I’ve seen people slip into sin. I’ve watched it happen, and thought to myself, “How could they? How does a person get so far off track?” I’ve watched people get snared and done nothing to help. I’ve smugly stood by and let them fall, while being grateful that I would never fall for that. The truth is, I may not ever fall for the same thing. If I don’t, it isn’t by my own might or power, but by the grace and power of God working in me.

Even so, for the most part, I don’t really have a hard time forgiving people if they sin – especially when it doesn’t really have anything to do with me.

Ephesians 4:31-32: Get rid of all bitterness, rage, anger, harsh words, and slander, as well as all types of evil behavior. Instead, be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you.

Just as Christ has forgiven me. I am to forgive just as He has forgiven. Do you know what that means? There are things I have done that only God and myself know about. Things that I shudder to think could ever be discovered by another human. Christ forgave me for those things. The worst I have ever done, and the worst I will ever do, He has forgiven. And that is how I am to forgive others.

Okay. So when that person cuts me off in traffic, I am supposed to forgive them. Got it. I’m good with that. In fact, it’s rather easy. When else? When someone says they’ll be there, and they never show, I’m supposed to forgive them. Okay… not as easy as the traffic thing, but I can do it. No problem. Someone lies to me, steals from me, hurts me physically? Yep, you guessed – I am supposed to forgive them. It’s getting harder and harder, but I can still do it.

But why?

Colossians 3:13 – Bear with each other, and forgive each other. If someone does wrong to you, forgive that person because the Lord forgave you.

Okay. That’s right… He forgave me. He knew that not only would I sin before I “got saved” – I’d sin afterwards, too. And He knew that there would be days when I’d neglect to even say a quick “thank you.” He knew all that, and He forgave me anyway. Because of that, I am supposed to forgive others when they do wrong to me.

Okay.

Speaking of not even taking the time to say “thank you”… have you ever prayed the Lord’s prayer? I have. I couldn’t even tell you how many times I’ve prayed that section of scripture.

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy Name. Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.

Um… has that phrase ever arrested your attention? Because it’s sure got mine. Jesus Himself told me to pray that. To ask God to forgive me as I forgive others who sin against me. I’ve done it, too. I’ve prayed those words more times than I can count. It’s the next verses that get to me though…

Okay, not the “Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for Thine is the Kingdom, power, and glory forever” part. That’s in verse 13 of Matthew 6. Do you know what verses 14 and 15 say? I do. I can’t get away from them; can’t get them out of my head.


“For if you forgive people their reckless and willful sins, leaving them, letting them go, and giving up resentment, your Heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive others their reckless and willful sins, leaving them, letting them go, and giving up resentment, neither will the Father forgive you.”

Think about that.

Does it do the same thing to you that it does to me? Does it make you stop and really think? Does it make you cringe? Are there things that come to mind that you just can’t fathom forgiving?

I’m going to be very honest right now. There is one particular person who hurt me. Not a little and not just one time. The pain inflicted was physical and emotional, and in many ways is still with me today. I’m not going to say who, or how, or when. I will say this, though… I have been wrestling and struggling with Matthew 6:14 and 15 for years because of it.

It’s hard to forgive someone the first time they hurt you. Harder still the next time. But what about when you can no longer keep track of how many times they’ve done the same exact thing? What do you do when what they did invades your life – impacting your thoughts, your dreams, your relationships with other people, and even your walk with God? Then how do you forgive?

Can I keep being honest?

You can’t. Or at least, I can’t. Not without God’s help. But what if you already have that? What if you’ve prayed, you’ve asked God to help you, and you truly want to forgive?

The rest of this post is going to come straight from my heart. I am going to share what I have done, what I have learned, and what forgiveness actually looks like in my life. As you read, I pray that God would speak to your heart – and that you’d be willing to listen.

I’ve been wrestling. Struggling. I’ve stayed up late at night, risen early in the morning. I’ve gotten help from other people – people who are older, wiser, and have walked with God a lot longer than I.

There is someone I needed to forgive. Someone I didn’t want to forgive. But no matter how many Bibles I opened, I couldn’t find one that didn’t say I needed to forgive. I couldn’t imagine how I was to do this, and really, I didn’t even know what, exactly, it was that I was trying to do. As I’ve sought God, as I’ve been helped by others and spoken to through His Word, there are some very important things I’ve learned about forgiveness.

First, I need to forgive the person. The focus here is on the person who hurt me. It’s not on the hurt me, but on the person. A human being. Someone with flesh and blood. Someone who, in spite of whatever it is that they’ve done (or not done), is loved by God. Someone with a heart that beats within his or her chest. Someone who laughs, who cries. Someone who has known the depths of despair and the heights of love. Someone who will live, forever. When you strip away everything temporary, this person is no different from any of the rest of us. He or she knows fear, anger, betrayal… every pain that they have given to others, they’ve received themselves. For all I know, they’ve endured things I can’t even begin to imagine. Even if they haven’t… I need to forgive. The person.

The next thing to really speak to me was the notion that this person, like any other person, had the potential to spend eternity in Hell. The realities of hell are too horrific for me to comprehend. Absolute agony, more intense than anything anyone here on earth can even begin to imagine. Total and utter darkness. Complete separation from God, with no hope of reunion. An absolute absence of hope, of love, of peace, of joy. Being more alone than is possible here on earth. Forever. No end. This is what we all deserve. It is what we have earned. But I’m not going there, and you don’t have to either. Jesus has paid the price. And really, truthfully… if the love of God really is in me – if I really have chosen to follow Him – then I can’t wish that for anybody.

Once that sank in, I started to pray for this person. To pray that if they haven’t made that choice – if their eternal destiny right now is hell – that they’d repent. That somehow, someone or something would get through to them. It’s urgent. Important. Infinitely important. Honestly, I’d prefer that this person had never been a part of my life. But they were. And they are. So when I think of them, I pray. Because whether I would have chosen to know him or her, life has dictated that I do.

Once those two things had really solidified for me, I was stuck. I didn’t wish any ill for this individual. I didn’t intend to do anything untoward to them. I was even praying for his or her salvation. But it wasn’t quite enough, and I knew it. There was still one question burning in my mind: what is forgiveness? How do I know if I’ve done it? I think I have, but… what if I haven’t?

One thing that made me wonder was the fact that I still find myself feeling angry, hurt, and several other “negative” emotions that are directed toward this person. I asked myself, “If I had really forgiven him or her, would I still feel this way?”

Turns out, the answer is yes. Stay with me – I promise to explain further. But for now, I’m going to keep going.

I also wondered, what if I do sometimes find myself tempted to act… ahem, ungodly, toward this person? Then what?

It turns out that I’m actually still human, and still susceptible to those things that afflict us humans. It also turns out that the love of God constrains me… and as time goes by, the temptation is lessening. I don’t know if it will ever be gone completely – but I have learned that it doesn’t have anything to do with whether I’ve forgiven.

The next thing I found myself wondering, I actually took to my Pastor. I kept thinking about someone else that I struggled to forgive – and succeeded. I have since developed a desire to be with that person. I enjoy his or her company, and I even seek it out. But this other person? I don’t want to see them. I don’t want to talk to them. I really would be okay with going the rest of my life and never having any contact again. How does that line up with forgiveness?

Let me give you the example my Pastor gave to me. Suppose someone were to threaten him (my Pastor) at gunpoint? What if they told him they were going to kill him and his family? Then, suppose they went to prison. Thirty years later, Pastor has forgiven them, but they still haven’t repented. If Pastor never wants to see them again, does this mean he hasn’t forgiven them? No. It means he doesn’t want to be shot and killed. It means he wants to protect himself. And he wants to protect his family.

Then we talked about what forgiveness is.

Forgive… from the words “fore” and “give.” To give. Prior to, in advance of, or in the absence of. Forgiveness, while associated with repentance, is given independently of that repentance.

It isn’t between me and the individual – it is between me and God. It is an attitude of the heart, and the reason I do it is because of what God did for me – not because of anything this individual has or could do.

Forgiveness doesn’t have anything at all to do with my emotions. If I am still wrestling with anger, hurt, fear… that doesn’t mean I haven’t forgiven. It just means that I’m human.
Forgiveness also has nothing to do with trust. Pastor gave another example here.

Suppose you have a man who is a convicted child molester, who has been “clean” for twenty years. He has repented of his way, and given his life to the Lord. He comes into our church. Will we let him? Absolutely. He can come to church. He can serve – in some areas. He can worship with us, sit in services, and come to the altar whenever he wants. But that man will not be allowed to serve anywhere in our children’s ministry. If a child goes into the bathroom, and the man then gets up and goes in as well – someone will follow. He will be watched. Does this mean we don’t forgive him? Of course not. It just means we don’t trust him.

Lastly, forgiveness doesn’t mean that what was done is okay. It doesn’t mean that what happened is forgotten, and it doesn’t mean that it would be acceptable for the individual to repeat previous actions. It does mean that I am releasing that person from whatever they owe me. Or whatever I think they owe me. It means that I don’t expect them to give me anything.

It means that I can say, “Yes. That was wrong. No, I don’t trust you. No, I don’t particularly care to be with you. But, you don’t owe me anything. I am moving forward, and as far as I am concerned, any debt you have is between you and God.”

Today, I took another step down this road called forgiveness. I prayed, and asked God to help me do it.

And then I wrote. I wrote down the things that I felt this person had taken away from me. And the things I felt this person had given me wrongly. And I wrote that today, I absolve this person of all he or she owes – both what I would have kept, and what I would prefer to never have received. I am letting it go of it all, and I will not pick it back up.

I signed it. Dated it.

And then, I ripped the sheet into three pieces. One piece with what this person “took” from me. One piece with what this person “gave” me. And one with that statement of forgiveness.

The piece with what he or she had taken away? I prayed over it, listing each item. “Lord… this person took away these things. I am releasing his or her obligation to give them back. I know it is a debt that cannot be repaid, but even if it could, I would not require it. I forgive him or her.” And then I ripped that paper up until all that was left was a pile of tiny pieces.

Then I moved on. “Lord, these things that have been left with me? I release him or her from any responsibility to remove them. I trust that You will do whatever needs to be done with what is left, and I forgive him or her.” I made another pile of tiny pieces of paper.

After taking a minute to contemplate what this really meant, I pushed the pieces into one pile. I took one last piece of paper – a scrap that had ended up being empty. I wrote “I forgive” on the piece of paper.

I put it on top of the pile.

And now? Now, there is nothing more than little scraps. I can’t make out any of the things that were taken, and I can’t make out any of the things that were “given” to me. All I can make out is forgiveness.

Yes, the pain is still there. And no, I don’t trust the person. No, I don’t even like the person. And this person may very well have to face consequences for what was done. But he or she owes me nothing. Nothing. Because I forgive.

Will you?

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Friday, May 15, 2009

The Fact of Sin - and The Gift of God

We are – by nature – sinful. I know that it’s not popular to say so. I can understand that. None of us like to be reminded of what we’ve done, what we’ve said. We’d rather keep those thoughts a secret, and it would suit us better if those whispered words stayed behind closed doors. I’m sure none of us would object if it were possible to make sure that every hidden sin stayed hidden – forever. But that’s just not the way it is.

Romans 3:23 – For all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God.

I am part of the “all” in this verse. Are you? (hint: the correct answer here is “yes”). There has only been one, ever, who has lived a life completely free of it. That One was Jesus Himself. The Son of God. Nobody else has ever succeeded – could ever succeed – in living completely without sin. So, where do we go from here?

We have several options.

We can choose to ignore the fact that we fall short. We can tell ourselves that we are good. Maybe we’re “better” than the people around us, and because of that… well, maybe because of that, God will accept us. Maybe, in spite of our imperfection, we’re good enough. And maybe, since we’re better than a lot of people, we’re actually okay. Right?

Romans 3:9 – Well then, are we superior and better off than they? No, not at all. We have already charged (determined, seen) that all men, both Jews and Gentiles, are under sin, held down by and subject to its power and control. As it is written, “None is righteous, just and truthful and upright and conscientious, no, not one."

Romans 3:27,28 – So do we have a reason to brag about ourselves? No! And why not? It is the way of faith that stops all bragging, not the way of trying to obey the law. A person is made right with God through faith, not through obeying the law.

Hmm. I guess that means maybe we are in trouble. Maybe we really are being held captive by this sin. Maybe we need help. And maybe, if we really consider it, we really aren’t good enough.

But where does that leave us? What can we do? If we are sinners, and there is absolutely nothing we can do to change that, what hope do we have?

Romans 3:21-22, 2 – But God has a way to make people right with him… …and He has now shown us that way which the law and the prophets told us about. God makes people right with Himself through their faith in Jesus Christ.

Ephesians 1:7-8 – In Him (Christ) we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of sins, in accordance with the riches of God’s grace that He lavished on us with all wisdom and understanding.

Romans 5:20 – All that passing laws against sin did was produce more lawbreakers. But sin didn’t, and doesn’t, have a chance in competition with the aggressive forgiveness we call grace. When it’s sin versus grace, grace wins hands down. All sin can do is threaten us with death, and that’s the end of it. Grace, because God is putting everything together again through the Messiah, invites us into life – a life that goes on and on and on.

Okay. So, He made a way. He made a way for sin not to utterly destroy us. That’s great news, right? But what do we do with it? How do we make it work? How do we use it?

Colossians 2:11 – Entering into this fullness is not something you figure out or achieve. It’s not a matter of being circumcised or keeping a long list of laws. No, you’re already in – insiders – not through some secretive initiation rite but rather through what Christ has already gone through for you, destroying the power of sin.

Romans 3:22-25 – God makes people right with Himself through their faith in Jesus Christ. This is true for all who believe in Christ, because all people are the same. Everyone has sinned and fallen short of God’s glorious standard, and all need to be made right with God by His grace, which is a free gift. They need to be made free from Sin through Jesus Christ. God sent Him to die in our place to take away our sins. We receive forgiveness through faith in the blood of Jesus’ death…

What receiving forgiveness look like? What does this “faith” look like, and how do we do it?

1 John 1:9 – If we freely admit that we have sinned and confess our sins, He is faithful and just, true to His own nature and promises, and will forgive our sins, dismiss our lawlessness, and continually cleanse us from all unrighteousness – everything not in conformity to His will in purpose, thought, and action.

It really is that simple. If you’ve already “done this” – if you’ve given yourself to Him, if you’ve accepted His sacrifice, you already know. You know the peace, the joy… the hope. If you haven’t done this, if you haven’t accepted this gift, will you do it today? Will you do it now?

Do you believe that God is God? Do you believe that Jesus Christ of Nazareth is His Son? Do you believe that Jesus came to earth as the fully human, and yet fully God, child of a virgin girl? Do you believe that He was crucified on a cross, and He died to pay the price for every sin that had been and ever would be committed? Do you believe He was laid in that borrowed tomb, and three days later, rose from the dead? Do you believe? Will you take that chance?

If your answer is yes, I would ask that you do something about it right now. Don’t wait until tomorrow. Don’t wait for the perfect moment. I invite you to stop everything else you are doing and give these next few moments to the King of all eternity.

Will you?

Let’s pray together…

“Lord, I know I have sinned. I’m not perfect. It’s easy for me to think I’m better than other people. Easy to hope that maybe I really am “good enough” to make it without You. But I know that’s not true. I know that I really cannot do this myself. I know that I’ve messed up in the past, and I know I’ll do it again.

I’m flawed Lord. I’m incomplete, broken, and unable. Thank You for helping me to see that. But Lord, You said that there is a way for me. You said that if I confess my sins, you’ll forgive me.

I’m confessing them now, Lord… confessing the lies I’ve told, the hatred I’ve let grow inside me. I’m confessing the hurtful words I’ve said, the promises I’ve broken, and the pride I have inside. All of it Lord, I’m confessing. I don’t want to stay the same – I want to honor You.

You said in Your Word (Romans 10:9-10) that if I will believe in my heart and confess with my mouth, I will be saved. I do believe. I believe that You are the Son of God. That you died on the cross for my sins. That you were put in the tomb, and three days later, you rose again. And I believe that sacrifice paid for my sins – the sins I’ve already committed, and the sins that I know I will commit in the future.

Thank you, Lord. Thank you for loving me. For saving me. I am giving myself to you today, knowing that I can’t ignore you any more. I am trusting you to save me, to make me whole, and to wash away the stains that my sins have left on me. I know that some things will have to change, Lord, but I also know that You are with me. I know that You will help me, and will show me the way.”

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Monday, May 11, 2009

Randomness

Today, I've got just a bunch of random thoughts. But together, they make a post. Because I say so. :)

Anyway...

First off... about four months ago - maybe a little longer - I started noticing my heart doing this wierd thing. It felt almost like it was beating twice for every pulse that I could feel in my wrist. And it hurt a little. And made it a little harder to breathe. And made me a little dizzy. But it would last for just a matter of minutes before it would go back to normal. Then, in February, I picked up some virus and it did the wierd sensation thing - and my pulse hovered around 160 for 8 days. Just when I decided it was time to say something and maybe get checked out, it stopped. Well, not stopped - it kept on beating. But normally. At like 60-65 beats a minute. Except for sometimes, when it would feel all wierd and jump up to somewhere between 140 and 160. One night I woke in the middle of the night and it was up to 176. And stayed there for over an hour. Then, for days afterward, it plugged along at a boring 60. With, of course, intermittent episodes where it would beat considerably faster and feel "strange" and even hurt a bit.

About two weeks ago, it started doing it. Four days later, I was SO tired (it's really hard to sleep when your heart feels like it's going to beat its way straight out of your chest) and had somehow managed to get really dehydrated. I went in, they noted my heart rate was abnormally high and not completely regular, but attributed it to the dehydration. Pumped me full of fluids, got my kidneys doing their thing (that's blog-appropriate code for really, really having. to. go. to. the. bathroom. Now.). Heart didn't slow, but they figured it would over the weekend.

Monday, I was ready to tear my hair out, or resort to some other form of acting as frustrated and tired as I felt. Went back to the doctor, who measured my resting, reclined, deep-breathing-relaxed pulse at 124. Thought it was odd... did an ekg, ran some blood panels. Nothing hugely significant in either one. Pulse dropped... to 116. Hmm. Not exactly what we were after. Doc suggested maybe it was anxiety, and wanted to know if I'd be willing to try Xanax. Now, I've heard some great stuff about Xanax. And as I told the doctor, I'm fine with taking it... but... near as I can tell, I am walking around a lot less anxious than most people I know and I don't think it requires thought, nevermind action. After a bit more thought, he prescribed a beta blocker/anti-arrhythmic. Started out taking 1/2 pill twice a day. Got bumped up to a full pill after a couple days sort of controlled it. Added another dose in there on Friday. Today, I can tell you... it feels so nice to not feel my heart beating.

So yeah. That's that.

Other news? Our home. I say that with a certain amount of... well, hesitation. Because it's not ours. And if we don't get loan stuff figured out this month, it won't be. But my God? He is God. A faithful God. And I trust Him. He loves me. I know that. And so, I won't say any more. But if you are the praying sort... pray that He'd make His answer, His provision really obvious.

Hmm... what else?

I'm still plugging away at my uber-big spreadsheet that encompasses the DSM-IV-TR. And I am learning so much, and loving doing it.

Other randomness... This is the first spring in years that I haven't spent most of outside. It's been strange, adapting to the whole concept of working full-time in a call center. It's nice, as far as call centers go, but definitely not "me." But that's okay... because I have a job. A good one, even. I won't complain.

Suddenly, my very full mind is very not-so-full. Away with me.

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Sunday, May 10, 2009

Childless Mothers.

Today is Mother's Day. Everywhere you go, you can find reminders. Today is about honoring those women who have birthed children. And those who have adopted them or made a place in their family for them. It's about the love, joy, heartache and tears that go with that title... Mother.

To all of you Mothers, I salute you. You have been given an amazing blessing. You are fulfilling that inalienable right that belongs to every woman. The right to love, teach, correct, guide, and nurture a child. The right to sleepless nights and endless days. The right of tears - tears of joy, tears of sorrow. The right to giggles under covers, whispered "I love you's" and holding sticky fingers. You are fulfilling the right to possess some of the strongest and most selfless love to be found this side of heaven - and the right to deepest agony and heartbreak. You are living and breathing that right. And you are blessed.

But today's post isn't just for you. In fact, most of it isn't for you at all. Today's post is for the childless mothers.

What's that? You want to know how a Mother can be childless? Come with me, and I'll show you.

I'll start with a beautiful woman named Devon. Devon has a two year old daughter (or maybe she's three now) named Riley. She loves this little girl fiercely and unconditionally. So I guess she's not childless... Unless you compare what should be with what actually is. You see, last year, Devon had two amazing little boys - Blake and Ethan. For reasons beyond Devon's control, Blake and Ethan came early. Way too early. It was only a few days before they were healed. Their healing didn't come the way Devon might have hoped. It came when they stepped into eternity. And now, Devon has so little of them to hold onto... Memories, tears. Names. Some photographs. A drawing.

And today? A tiny life within, growing each day. Fear that like Ethan and Blake, this little one won't stay here on earth. Fear that at the end of this pregnancy, people will still think she is a mother of one. But Devon is not a mother of one. She is a mother of four. And yet, in some ways, she is one of them... One of the childless mothers.

But she's not the only one on my mind today. I also think about a sweet girl from my church. A girl who "fell in love" with a boy. She gave herself to him in a momentary lack of reason. He took himself away from her. She knew it wasn't love - never had been and never would be. Nine months later, she held her tiny son in her arms. And then gave him the best she could. That best meant granting a couple's deepest desire. It meant giving up part of who she was. It meant tears - countless tears. Sorrow. Regret. A broken heart. It meant becoming a childless mother.

There is another kind of childless mother. It's the last kind I am going to talk about today. This mother is the one who has never had the privilege of bringing life into this world. She is the woman who doesn't sit up at night caring for a sick child - instead, she lays awake, sick with longing. She doesn't know the pain of childbirth - but she knows the pain of an empty womb. She's never had a tiny life completely dependent on her for every need - so she searches for purpose in other areas. But like Mother's everywhere, she's paced the floors for hours while praying for a child. Like other Mother's, she's sacrificed nearly all of who she is in an effort to bring life into this world and make it better. She's had her heart broken when 'her' child is adopted by someone else... Or the child's birth mother changes her mind. Like so many mothers, she has pictures in her mind of her child - except these pictures are only in her mind. Like other mothers, she knows love, joy, peace, hope... And she knows anguish, selflessness, anger, and fear. She is a Childless Mother.

I am a Childless Mother.

And just for now, I am going to pretend that today is for me too.

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Sunday, May 3, 2009

Not Me Monday


So MckMama..." is a phrase frequently uttered in our home, by myself and my husband. MckMama is one of those rare people who lets herself be seen by others. She lets us see her as she follows Christ - flaws and all.
Each week, MckMama hosts a blogfest called "Not Me Monday." Not Me Monday is, in a nutshell, a no-cost-involved self-therapy program designed for people like me. It gives those who participate full license to disclose all of those details that we usually keep carefully hidden. It also allows us (the participants) to read about all of the things that other people definitely did *NOT* do this past week.

So here are my "Not Me Monday's." Be sure to head on over to MckMama's Blog to check out more.
  1. I occasionally frequently receive e-mails with the words "I found a baby bird" in the subject line. Why? Well, I helped one person on one forum, one time, years ago. This person truly was in a position to care for said baby bird, and they were not in a position to get this baby to a rehabber. So I helped. And now, whenever people search for help with the baby bird they've found, they come across that ancient post.

    But this past week? I most certainly did not receive an e-mail with this exact phrase... "I put it in a flower pot that had grass going in it and placed it on our trampoline..." Upon reading that, I did not stare dumbly at the screen. For several minutes.

    However, if that did happen, I would have still helped the individual by providing contact information so they could contact a rehabber, as well as some basic instructions for assisting this baby.
  2. Along those same lines... I most certainly did not reply to the fourth or fifth e-mail in one afternoon regarding a baby that was taken from the ground with mom and dad bird nearby. And in that nonexistent reply, I definitely did write, "Please. Stop breaking the law - it is illegal to have that baby bird. And while you're at it - put the baby back. Seriously. Mom and dad were there because they are taking care of it. And by the way... how did you find my e-mail in that four year old post but have absolutely no luck finding a wildlife rehabilitator?" But if I had typed out such a reply, I wouldn't have sent it.
  3. I am not currently snuggling under the covers with my cat. But if I was, it would be unerstandable, as he is the epitome of catness, you know.
  4. I am not cringing at the thought of the week I'm about to launch into. But if I was, you'd understand after a brief look at my schedule:
    Monday - leave for work by 8:00 AM, get done at 5:30, but can't go home because Derek's not done until 9:30. Planning to force a friend to go for a walk to work his recently reconstructed knees. And needing to go to a particular place of business in order to schedule some appointments. And having at least two letters to write. One of which I don't really want to write. And having to somehow touch base with the church office in the morning. While working. A job I don't particularly feel prepared to do.

    Tuesday - leave for work by 8:00 AM. Get done at 5:30. Drop one of those letters I wrote on Monday off. Eat. Get to church by about 6:30, to make sure everything is set for photography. As soon as church is over, book back over to work to get Derek. Home by 10:30, if we're lucky.

    Wednesday - leave for work by 7:45 AM, since I'll be flexing early (I think). Work till 5:15. Get to church (30 minutes away) by 5:50, have one of those "heavy" appointments, then church from 7:00 to about 9:30. Head back to work, get Derek. Hopefully home by 11:00 PM.

    Thursday - leave for work by 8:00 AM, work till 5:30 PM, back to church for another special service, do video (camera) which entails being on my feet for about 2.5 hours, then back to work, get Derek, drive home, hopefully to arrive around 11:00 PM.

    Friday - blissful Friday. Planning to shoot for a shift swap with someone, so I can hang out with my hubby in the morning and start work some time afternoon. But also appealing is the notion of flexing fifteen minutes early again, getting done by 5:15, and having just over four hours to muck around in the woods somewhere, maybe get some decent pictures.

    And somewhere in all this, we have to close on our house. And then there's the fact that we need to keep working on our house, because it's not even sort of done. I suppose I should really attempt to get some sleep somewhere in there, and maybe even eat some food?
  5. My cat did not just get his claw stuck in the couch. And make all sorts of strange noises and flailing movements before I realized he wasn't just being... odd.
  6. I am not sort of dreading Mother's Day. Because it isn't a day filled with memories, and with tears, because I miss her so much.
  7. I'm not ending here, because I've come up with something else I want to work on. No... not me.

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Monday, April 27, 2009

For Anna.

Sweet Annaliah:

I call you sweet, because I believe with all my heart that you are. I'm writing this to you, wishing so very much that I wasn't. It's not that I don't want to tell you these things... it's that I wish I could. But you see, you're not with daddy and me. You're with Jesus. And even though I know it's better for you there than anything I have ever known or even imagined... I wish you were here.

It's strange, really. We're coming up fast on the anniversary of that day. That day when I just couldn't shake the notion that something wasn't right. That you were not okay. That day when your daddy and I waited in that dingy room for the ultrasound technician to call us back. I remember looking down at my stomach... round, obviously the stomach of a mommy, and feeling so empty. As soon as the technician started, I saw it. I saw that there was no motion. No heartbeat. Just silence. She turned the screen away, finished up, and told us the doctor would see us back at the clinic. I knew, without a doubt, that you had gone home.

I remember riding home, clinging desperately to the doctor's words... maybe it was a mistake. Maybe you were really still okay. And knowing without any doubt at all that you weren't. I was so afraid of what it was going to do to your daddy.

There's something you need to know, sweet Anna. Now, you are surrounded by the ultimate love - the best love - the most perfect love. Here on earth, you wouldn't have known that same love. Because everything here is flawed. But I promise you, you would still have known love. Intense, thrilling, quiet, comforting love. Your daddy and I aren't perfect, but we loved you. We still love you. We're not the only ones... you have an advantage over some kids - you don't have four grandparents - you have FIVE. You've got your YiaYia, your Papa, your Pops, your Gramma Kelly, and your Gramma Sheri. You've got great-grandparents too. Your aunt Cari and uncle Joel would have loved to spoil you. But guess what? They're going to meet you one day. Won't that be great?

I can tell you right now, without any hint of doubt, that as long as I breathe, you will not be forgotten. Not long after we found out that you'd already gone Home, I prayed desperately for comfort. That same night, I had a dream. A wonderful dream, in which I held you. You were so beautiful. And I woke up. It's strange, sweetheart. I don't know if the dream was from God or not. But I do know that the comfort and peace that filled my heart afterwards could not have come from anyone else.

I've been seeking that comfort a lot lately. I've been trying very hard to be thankful, and I am thankful for all that God has done. But sometimes, my heart hurts so much. I miss you Anna. And I miss your Great-Gramma Eileen. And I know that love is not envious, but sometimes I am jealous that you two have eachother and I don't have either one of you. But then I remember...

I remember shaking as I watched that tiny pink line appear on the test. I remember my Gramma's face when I told her. I remember your YiaYia's tears and exhuberant (as always) rejoicing. Your Pops drove through town with the windows down, telling everyone he was going to be a Grampa. I have never seen your daddy so excited. None of them ever got to know you, but somehow you left your mark on this world. We are all glad to have known you.

And I remember reading my Gramma's words the night she died. She had written that she wondered if she would ever get to hold her great-grandchildren. Anna, I can't begin to imagine the joy she felt that day. Little did any of us know - she got to hold you first.

I'm going to go now. I just wanted to tell you that I'm thinking about you today. I think about you a lot of days - so does your daddy. We wish we could know you now. You'd be two and a half now. I picture you with silky brown hair - like your Aunt Cari. Lots of smiles, like your daddy. You'd be running around, talking, laughing.

Love,
Mommy

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Something To Consider.

Today, I spent eight hours "on the clock" here at work. And then what? Four hours "off the clock" but unable to leave because my husband's shift is four hours off from mine. This means that we leave home at 8:00 AM and get home about 10:45 or 11:00 PM. Which, honestly, stinks. I don't like it. It's stressful, and I miss my kitties. Plus, the whole no time together in spite of working about 20 feet apart.

But.

I've been considering it. And here's what I've come up with...

I have no right to complain. I have a house to go home to. I have four kitties at home who are healthy, well cared for, and always use the litter box. I've got a husband who loves me. And I love him. And, we both have jobs with a fairly stable company with excellent benefits and reasonable wages.

And that's just the surface. Because on top of that, and I do mean on top, I am saved. Redeemed. I will never pay the price for the things I've done. And that all by itself is something to be thankful for... soemthing that pretty much takes away my right to complain. At all.

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Sunday, April 26, 2009

On Friendship.

Today, something is on my mind. It's been there since Thursday, actually. You see, Thursday I sat and talked with a friend of mine. I had recently appologized for being such a lousy friend. And in my own eyes, I've been exactly that. Going months without calling, writing, or even sending an e-mail. I guess that wouldn't be so bad... if it weren't for the fact that I think of this person, and pray for this person, almost every day. And still don't keep in touch.

But on Thursday, he asked me something... he wanted to know why that makes me a bad friend. My first thought was "because friends need to keep in touch all the time." Then I thought "because you deserve better." "Because friends can talk to eachother about anything." I said those things.

His reply?

If two people are truly friends, it's okay to go months without talking. Because when you do talk, it's like no time passed at all. You don't need words to know that when it comes down to it, you are there for one another. And your loyalty is not dependent on or in need of constant reinforcement.

I've thought about that often in the past days. I've also thought about something else he said once. "You know it's a good friendship when you can spend an hour walking side by side, and not say a word, and you feel as much companionship and comraderie as you've ever felt while talking with someone else."

And truthfully? Words aren't always needed. My very best friend growing up never spoke to me. Ever. Not "she was quiet" but "she did not speak." She was a selective mute. Until Derek (my husband), I have never known such a devoted, unwavering, loyal, amazing friend. She didn't need words to show it. She just... had it inside, and let it show with everything she did. Her actions, her demeanor, her eyes.

Shifting gears just a little... there are people I could talk with for hours and hours. Because we have so much that we could talk about. And in spite of that, I wouldn't call them "friend."

So who do I consider "friend?" Very few people. Very few indeed. A friend, to me, is one who sticks closer than a brother. One who is loyal. Someone I can trust. Someone I would unquestioningly support. A life to which I have an unyielding connection. Someone I can go six months or a year, or even more, without contact. And then, when we do find ourselves together, or talking, it isn't ackward. It's not uncomfortable or strange.

And for now, that's all. More later this week, perhaps.

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Saturday, April 25, 2009

Stances, Blocks, Kicks, and Life.

Fear.

Fear is one of the things I struggle with... more than just about anything else, in fact. I think part of that is due to the fact that once you start to fear, you find yourself afraid to not fear. It's been more than once in the past few days that I've thought, "But if I don't expect this to happen, or at least acknowledge that it could, and it happens anyway... then what?"

Since I've struggled with this for most of my life, I've chosen to take a new approach. Okay... perhaps not entirely new, but... revised.

As a teenager, I started "doing Martial Arts." For a little while, it was a form of recreation as my back healed (I broke it playing in a tractor inner tube). The controlled movement coupled with the fact that the instructor also happened to be a physician lent an air of safety. After my first test, I realized that this was something at which I could excel. So I pushed. And pushed. And over time, I became a Martial Artist. As that was happening, fear crept in.

I'm not talking about the sort of fear that gives you butterflies and makes you cringe. I'm talking about the sort of fear that immobilizes. The sort that leaves you heaving in the bathroom. That kind of fear. But part of what happens as a person transforms into a "Martial Artist" is that you learn to conquer your fear. Not to not have fear... but how to keep it from paralyzing you.

A huge part of how I've dealt with fear for years now is to do what used to seem so unnatural. I'll give you an illustration, from Martial Arts. And then I promise to tie this all back together.

The first thing you learn in Martial Arts is how to stand. We call it a stance... and there are several. A front stance, which is a stable, easy to move in stance. There's a horse stance, which is deep, extremely stable, and is where the most effective kicks are thrown from. There's a side or back stance, where in most of your weight is on one leg. The other is still planted on the ground, so you can quickly shift, but because it isn't occupied holding you up, you can use it for kicking. This is also the stance from which jumping is easiest. Without these stances, no technique will be fully effective. The stance is the foundation from which everything else is built. It's purpose is to work with your body to provide stability, strength, and ease of movement.

The next thing you learn is how to block. I've seen a lot of rolling eyes and bored expressions as new students spend entire class periods doing just two or three techniques, over and over again. But without these block, you cannot win. You must have a way to deflect attacks.

Next, you learn to strike and kick. The purpose of this is obvious... you can block an attack as many times as you want, but eventually, you need to choose between fighting back or being defeated. These strikes and kicks, especially those used by lower ranks, are simple. They take effort to learn, but once learned, they are amazingly effective.

So now, you've got your foundation (stance). You've got your evasive (defensive) blocks. And you've got your counter attacks (strikes and kicks). With all of these on board, we start teaching you practical application.

We do this in a very controlled setting. One person presents a challenge, and then punches. Your job is to first deflect and evade, then counter. There are set techniques which must be used exclusively until you've proven yourself and obtained your yellow belt. The techniques (or series of techniques) are carefully chosen because they are simple and effective. Simplicity is important. A simple technique, repeated over and over, will be there even when you're under so much stress that you can't even think.

So, to tie this into life. The stance? We all have a foundation. Something on which we build everything else. It is up to us, really, to choose our foundation. We can choose so many... desire to achieve certain goals, being loved, having a family, having money, having a home. Really, we can base our life on anything at all. But there's only one foundation that will never fail. And that is a relationship with Christ. We must carefully choose to do it right. To walk with Him. With time and "practice," it starts coming easier. Eventually, when something threatens us, we'll fall back into it without even thinking.

Next comes blocking. As we do this thing called living, we find ways to deflect attack. We learn to put up our guard, protecting ourselves from things that would hurt or destroy us. There are techniques, often times deceptively simple, that will prevent the attacks coming our way from destroying us. Hopefully, the techniques we habitually use do not cause their own damage.

Once we've gotten our foundation, and learned a little about deflecting attack, we move forward and learn ways to counter. We learn techniques that are easy to apply and blend with what we already know. We learn how and when to use them, in order to neutralize our adversary (in Martial Arts, this is another human. In life, this is the devil himself).

But then what?

In Martial Arts, as you get better at those basic techniques and principals, you get promoted. Each new rank brings with it a lot of "fun" new things - fancier kicks, more complicated blocks, impressive forms (a set sequence of moves designed to simulate a fight situation and teach fluidity of movement). But along with those bonuses comes more responsibility. More effort required. Bigger consequences if you mess up, and a smaller margin for error. And while learning these fun, new techniques, the basics absolutely can not be neglected. If you can no longer pop out an excellent side thrusting kick, there is no way that you can do a spinning kick followed by a jumping crescent.

About the same time you start learning some of the more "exciting" things, you also start learning new ways of dealing with attack. You no longer simply deflect every time. You start moving toward the threat while you deflect, instead of away. You learn to grab the threat, pull it in close so that you can neutralize it. You learn not to flinch in the face of... well, getting your face punched.

I've applied this in my life so many times, in so many ways. This "season" of my life is a prime example. I have stepped so far out of my "comfort zone" that I can't even see it anymore. There is something private, personal, that I have feared intensely for years. And I have finally stepped back and taken a good look at this fear. And instead of merely pushing it aside to deal with later, I have grabbed it and pulled it in. And I am fighting with everything in me to neutralize it.

And to be honest, it's not easy. Because I'm afraid that I won't win. Afraid it will be too much. And yet, I know that the only option is to push forward anyway. It doesn't matter what I think could go wrong... what matters is that I know I am equipped to make it. Equipped to win. Because I do have the foundation. I've got the deflecting. I've got the counter attacks. And God has given me the courage to not back down in the face of it.

Finally, as you reach higher ranks, You learn how to take a hit. It's not that we Martial Artists actually enjoy pain. But if you've never taken a kick to the stomach, never tried to fight with the wind knocked out of you (as does happen when sparring), never actually found yourself trying to defeat an opponent you can't see for the sweat in your eyes... you'll be lost in a "real world situation."

Like with Martial Arts, in life, you take hits. The first ones are the worst - even if they are relatively "mild." You're terrified, because you don't know how you'll handle it - or if you even can handle it. But after you take a few little ones, you find that they don't even make you blink. Without even noticing that it's happening, one day you find yourself in the middle of a sparring match, having just taken a hit to the solar plexus, or the core of who you are. And while you may not be able to breathe and you feel like you probably won't make it... you do. You stay on your feet anyway. You don't back down. From somewhere deep inside you find the strength to push forward. And you win.

Right now, to be totally honest, I'm reeling from that hit to the solar plexus. I haven't fallen down - I know I can take it. But it still hurts. And it still takes most of my strength to stay up. But I know I can.

Now... when I started this post, I was talking about fear.

I've learned how to deal with fear in a lot of areas of my life. How to confront it, deflect it, defeat it. And when all else fails, how to keep going in spite of it. But there are some things that I haven't won over.

So lately, I've been asking one question when fear tries to take over.

"What if it does happen? What is the worst possible outcome? Can it touch my salvation?"

Let me give you an example. While my job is a blessing and I am thankful, I am not entirely sure that it's where I should be, or that I can even do the job. And a fear that keeps popping up is "What if you screw up and get fired?" I asked myself that yesterday. And here's what I realized.

If I did indeed get fired, we would still eat. We would still have a home. I would still have my husband. My cats would be fine. I would spend some time looking, and then get another job. If all else failed, I would work for a daycare. It wouldn't be the sort of money I want or may even need to make, but we would find a way. Because God provides for us. But even if losing that job meant I lost my home, my cats, my husband, my car, and even lost the option to eat... it can't touch my salvation. And in the light of my salvation, everything else pales in importance.

Because truly, nothing can touch my salvation. I can choose to put it down and walk away, but it absolutely, positively can not be taken away from me. Nothing has that kind of power.

For I am persuaded beyond doubt that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities, nor things impending and threatening nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)

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Tuesday, April 21, 2009

No Words, and Yet So Many Words

Let me start by saying this: I am rarely this transparent, this open, this... vulnerable... on my blog. But today, I'm just really feeling compelled to stop hiding. To let the rest of the world in on a few of my "secrets."

First... things are not always as they appear. I love my husband, and he loves me. We love one another deeply, fully, and sincerely. And our marriage is stronger now than it was even just a few short months ago. I've been told by numerous people that they wish they could have the sort of relationship my husband and I have, the same picturesque life.

When someone, usually someone who is single or watching their marriage crumble, says that to me... I smile. But inside, I want to weep for them. For whatever it is that convinces them that they are the exception. That their life is so much worse. That mind is so much better. And I'm torn. There is a joy, a peace, that is unshakable. That peace comes from my God and my King.

In my life, I've been so very, very broken. It has literally only been within the last six months that I have let anybody see that brokenness. Yes, there have been plenty of times when life has knocked me to my knees in desperation, and others have seen that. But those darkest moments were mine, and mine alone.

And it was in those moments - those silent, aching, desperate moments - that He was there. That still, quiet voice whispering "I am with you." That gentle peace that settles almost unnoticed, and blocks out the noise of the world. In those moments, I have had the awesome privelage of knowing true comfort.

Going back to my marriage... before that day in August of 2005, my husband hadn't known that comfort. Not because he hadn't know God, but because he's been blessed to have not been that truly broken. I remember looking at him as we were driving one day. He was watching the road, and I was watching his face. I was overcome with sadness on his behalf. Sadness that while he'd been spared pain, he'd never truly known the ultimate comfort. I told him that while I didn't wish him pain, I did wish that just once, he could have the opportunity to have absolutely nothing left but God. So that he could know that kind of comfort. That peace. That protection.

Today, I look back, and I see that he's had opportunities to know it. Our marriage has been full of great and wonderful moments. It's also been tried by some very intense storms. We've been shaken to the core by the loss of children we were expecting. Several times. My grandmother was killed in a senseless accident - the woman who, as my husband puts it, "grew him up." Infertility. The violent, freak-accident death of a "brother" in the Lord. The prospect of homelessness, not once, but twice. Discovering something carefully hidden that has affected every single aspect of our marriage.

And those are just the "obvious" struggles. Add to that some volotile and unpleasant family dynamics, ongoing health concerns, job instability, and financial strain, and you get our daily lives.

So you see, our marriage isn't "perfect." Our life together has not been a story-book ending. It's been hard. But here's the thing... I can't imagine walking through all (or any) of this with anyone else.

I've been so blessed. My husband, while certainly not perfect or without error, is a good leader for our family. He has learned and grown into a real leader. He takes his God-given authority seriously. He approaches the decisions he makes so carefully. He is a gentle leader. A good leader. I can submit to him without fear, because I know how much he cares for me. There is great peace and safety in submission for me. Because it is how God ordained it. Our relationship isn't good because we're lucky, and it's not because our lives are picturesque and easy. It's because we put God first. And He works through us and in us, directing our steps, our actions, our attitudes. And ultimately, it is the efull and explicit trust we place in Him that enables us to trust, honor, cherish, and love one another.

Moving on...

We have been struggling a lot with the relationship, or lack thereof, between our two fathers. I love my dad, with all my might. I am uniquely blessed to have an easy, loving relationship with him in spite of a less-than-ideal childhood. There aren't many things that raise my hackles, so to speak... talking badly about my dad is one of them. I also love Derek's dad. Obviously, having known him for only about six years, the history isn't there. But I can see that he is a good man, an intelligent man. And I do love him. I love Derek's mom. She doesn't see it, and I doubt she believes it, but I do. Sure, she makes me want to scream sometimes... not because she's so bad (which she isn't), but because I just don't know how to deal with a "mother." Never mind a mother in law.

But right now, it seems that we're at odds with all of those we hold so dear. There is a lot of "Well, he messed this up" and "she needs to..." and "tell him to..." We are at the point where it seems no matter what we say, someone is getting hurt. Whatever we do, it's not "right" in someone's eyes. And it's exhausting.

It has been amazing and fun to watch this house take shape. From the mind of my father in law, the heart of my daddy, and the hands of many, a dream is being made real. This is a place where I want to raise babies. A location that is all I could want. And if it meant an end to the bickering, hurt feelings, and tension, I would gladly give it all up and go back to our smelly, less-than-safe apartment to live.

I think that, at least for now, I am done writing. I'll be back at some point in the next several days, most likely. Meanwhile, rest in this knowledge... your salvation has been bought and paid for. It's yours - all you need to do is take it. And there isn't anything or anyone that can take it away.

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Sunday, April 19, 2009

Sometimes, It's Hard to Choose

The last few weeks have been... trying. Full of lots of very low points. Trials. Struggles. Pain. Sorrow. Spiritual warfare. Physical issues. I haven't written much during this time, and I'm not going to start going into details now. Instead, I'm going to do something else. I'm going to share with you the moments of joy I've had. The sweet times. The good ones. Because I'm making a choice, one that is not necessarily "easy" to carry out. I am choosing to set my mind on those good things, and even though I can't ignore the negatives, I am not going to give them any more thought or attention than is absolutely necessary.

So. Where to start?

First... sleep. I've been getting it. Enough of it. Most nights. I'm not sure if it's a change in attitude, a change in routine, or the medication I'm taking (which, incidently, is not a sleep aid). I suspect it's a combination of all three. And honestly, I don't actually care why. I'm just thankful.

What next? I've gotten assigned to a decent shift at work - 9:00 - 5:30. I wish Derek had gotten something similar, and I'm disappointed about trying to make our schedules work. But. I'm thankful that the commitments I have several evenings each week can now be met. And I'm thankful that this conflict of schedules is only temporary.

Moments of peace. Of joy. Of sweetness. Tonight, my husband and I were enoying some time just looking into eachother's eyes. He said the sweetest thing... he looked right at me and said, "You have Gramma's eyes." You see... I miss that woman more than I can put into words. And to hear someone else say that they can see even traces of her in me... well, it makes it somehow easier. It's not that I need to have a tangible reminder of her in order to remember... but in some ways, I guess maybe I do need that.

My husband's cat. She's tiny. She's intense. She's silly. Sweet. Absolutely gorgeous. And tonight, for whatever reason, she set herself up in a spot that made for some rather fun lighting on her.



On the topic of cats... All three girls, for reasons I may never know, decided they were going to sit in the window. One window. Together. It was way too cute to pass up:

Love. Relationships. Peace. Harmony. Unity. We spent last weekend with my dad and stepmom, Kelly. Watching them together is such a blessing... they are so in love. And not just the mushy warm fuzzy kind. The kind that is for keeps. This picture was taken in haste, with a telephoto lens while hiking. Even so... aren't they cute??

There's been so much. When I stop and try to think of everything good, everything I want to write about... words escape me. Some things, I could write for hours about. Some things, I can't seem to find anything at all to say. But this... this, I'm just not sure how or where to go with it.
This past week, someone who is older than me, wiser than me, and has walked with God longer, sat in a room with me for nearly an hour. This individual helped me to set some things straight in my own heart and mind, and helped me to pray and really seek God and let Him do His work in my heart. I left feeling so... uplifted. The next day, that feeling was still there. But by yesterday, I was starting to wonder if anything had changed at all. And then tonight comes. And I realize that yes... in ways I can't describe, I've changed. Not by my might, not by my own strength. But by the power of the One who is in me. And that, all by itself, is something that I am immeasurably thankful for.



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Thursday, April 16, 2009

Harmony.

Today, I had the opportunity to drive myself to a nearby city. On the way, I was listening to a recording of the Boston Pops Orchestra as they played a compilation of music from Riverdance.

As I listened, I was transported back to my time in high school band. I don't mean to sound arrogant or prideful, but we were good. For one of our concerts, we played music from Riverdance. When it was passed out, I took it home to learn both the flute and piccolo parts.

I remember grimacing and really not liking my part. It was boring and sounded disjointed even when I had mastered it. (Which took a while - it's full of uber-fast triplets and never-ending runs). But eventually, the concert happened. My part hadn't changed. But as I sat there playing my best, and everyone around me did the same, it was positively exhilerating.

It's a lot like being in the body of Christ. We each have a part. Alone, it may seem boring, disjointed, or unappealing. We may consider it and decide it's not worth mastering. But when it is combined with other parts, carefully blended both in volume and pitch, beautiful harmony is created. The end result is a sound so exquisite... Individual parts can only be discerned by a trained ear. They are all there, lending their unique quality, but the end effect is one solid wall of beauty. Being part of that final result while contributing a 'lesser' part is more fulfilling than playing the most amazing solo could ever be.

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Saturday, March 28, 2009

Fullness.

I am full. Not as in "my belly is full because I ate a lot." Full as in there is so much inside me that I'm not sure how to contai it.

I'm not sure how many of you have been or currently are a stay at home mom. Way back when, in 2006, I was going to do that. I was full then, too. Full of hope, full of joy. Full of baby. Okay, not exactly full... but there was a baby alive and growing inside of me. My husband and I were so elated. And then, I got to hear that tiny little heart beat. Whoosh whoosh whoosh. Going so fast. And then there was that ultrasound. The one that told us there would be no baby.

After that, we started pursuing fertility treatments hard core. We had two more losses. Another cycle yielded several days of positive tests but ended right on schedule. And after that? My grandma was killed in an accident. An accident that, no matter what anybody says, and no matter how I seem on the outside, I still feel so much responsibility for. I've been told that if I am responsible, she'd be grateful. Because she's in heaven. And you know, that's probably true. That's not what I feel guilty about though. The part that I want to change, to undo, is the heartbreak those left without her have to endure. I would do just about anything to go back and do things differently.

I had a wonderful job, for 8 months, as a nanny for an amazing little boy named Andres. That was by far the most fulfilling job I have ever had. I then started to work for a local hospital, but had to quit when I got a head injury. And that brings me to today.

I am full. I am full of regret. Of sorrow. Of anger. Of hurt. Of uncertainty. Of fear. There are so many things that I keep carefully and markedly absent from this blog. Things that keep me awake at night. That impact my work life. My social life. My relationship wtih my amazing husband. My spiritual life.

And yet... I am full. I am full of peace. I am full of hope. Of joy. Of thankfulness. Of wonder. Of anticipation. Because in spite of everything I just wrote, I am redeemed. I have been bought with a price. I am in right standing with God Almighty. Not by works or my own strength, but by the sacrifice made for me. And that is truly what fills me.

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Tuesday, March 17, 2009

I'm Trying.

Having recently started a full time job, and not having eliminated any of the other time-consuming things I do, I find myself with very few "extra minutes" with which to write here. So when I do have the time, like right now, I'm going to strive to be more careful about what I say. To consider my words, to think about what it is that I'm really putting out there.

That said, tonight's post is actually about adoption.

In Romans 8, verses 15 through 17, it says: For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together.

The part I'm focusing on is that second half of the first sentence. The spirit of adoption whereby I call out "Abba, Father." Abba. Abba doesn't just mean "father." It's so much more... in Clarke's Commentary, I found this statement... "[these words show] that the persons in question [have] the strongest evidence of the excellence of the state in which they stand; they know that they are thus adopted..." There's a lot more, but this is the thrust of what I've been mulling over in my mind.

You see... I've never been legally adopted. But I have been adopted. I was reminded of it once again this evening, when someone who's been helping me figure some things out said, "You know... from my perspective, your life really turned around when you were basically adopted by that man and his wife. In so many ways, it was nothing short of miraculous." That got me to thinking...

I was more or less adopted. There are two people who love me and treat me like one of their own children. Only it somehow is more than that. Deeper than that. Because they didn't birth me. They didn't raise me from a tiny baby on. They chose me. When I was in the middle of the darkest time in my life, when I was my most unlovable. They chose to bring me into their life. Into their hearts. They adopted me. They chose me.

And so did God. When I was as separated from Him as the east is from the west, when I was lost, unlovable, sin-stained and too proud to admit it... He chose me. He didn't have to love me. Didn't have to welcome me with open arms. Didn't have to to bring me in to His family. But He did.

He chose me. He loves me. I am part of HIS family.

And tonight, I am thankful. Thankful that a man and his wife chose me. Adopted me. Loved me. And now, I have my own family. My own husband, my own life "separate" from them. And they still love me. And they still call me theirs. And they still are proud of me. And I am so thankful.

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Saturday, March 7, 2009

Still Kickin'

Wow. I don't know when the last time I went this long without posting was - but it's certainly been a while.

Why, you may ask, has it been nine long days since the last post? Glad you asked - here's the deal.

First, I have in the past composed the vast majority of all of my posts sometime between 11:00PM and 4:30AM. Because in the past, I have spent that time period awake most nights. I haven't talked about it much here, because I don't see this as a place to complain or whine. However, the truth is, sleep is something I've struggled with just about my whole life. Even in elementary school. So now, being 25 years old, it seems that someone has finally hit on something that actually helps. It is a medication, but not a traditional "sleep medicine." Instead of knocking me out (like my old friend, Ambien), it addresses the root problem. Addressing this has meant that I sleep like "normal people" do. So the past week, I've been going to bed by about 11:00 at the latest. And sleeping. Oh what a blessing sleep is! I can't remember the last time I woke up five out of eight mornings feeling refreshed and outright good.

You might be wondering why I can't post during the day then? My answer brings me to number two.

I got a job. A good job. Full time. Pay is pretty decent. My husband is working there too. We started the same day, and we're in the same training class. We're aware that working with one's spouse can present unique challenges and even be downright difficult. We do have one up on some other couples who work together - we actually spent the nine months prior to our wedding working together, too. Anyway, I am getting off track.

This new job is with a large, stable company. It is a call center job. I'll be taking calls from business customers, and working to resolve any issues they may be haviing with the services provided by this company. That part of the job does not thrill me. I'll do it, though, and I will do it very well.

So, since the job itself doesn't thrill me, why on earth did I choose this company? Well, for one, they were willing to hire me. They actually take the time to read each application. They base their decisions more on experience and the loooong interview process, rather than vetoing everyone who may not appear on the surface to have the right education or job experience. But other than that (since there were a couple other offers made to me the same week I accepted this position), what's so great? Well... the pay is $3.00 higher than the average starting wage in our area. Once we're done with training (mid April), we have the opportunity to earn some serious bonuses for merely doing our job. Not even doing it really well - just showing up on time and not treating the customers like dirt. On top of that, we do have sales commission that we can make and some significant monetary compensation for going "above and beyond" with issue resolution. The health benefits are pretty great - above average for our area. They offer real live fertility coverage - all we pay is the standard copay. That's almost unheard of in this fantastic state I live in. Really, I do live in a fantastic state. With terrible fertility coverage. An outstanding dental program, and vision. Adoption assistance. And way more that I am too lazy to write about.

But the real kicker here? I have already started the process of getting a promotion. Total estimated time in my position before that? Six months. Yep, this company definitely offers advancement opportunities. I'm working on a daunting special project this afternoon, in fact. I want to have it done within the next four weeks... so we'll see how it goes. It's not required, not even for the promotion, but it would go a long ways toward giving me favor. So I'm quite excited about the whole opportunity.

Okay. On to thing three.

The reason this job prevents me from posting? Well... we leave our house between 7:00 and 7:15 AM, each morning. On Monday night, we got home at 6:00, because we had to stop off in another town to drop something off. This will continue to happen on Monday nights for an indefinite period. On Tuesday night, we got home at about 6:45, because we had an appointment we had to go to. This will also continue to happen for an indefinite period. Wednesday night, we got home at 11:15 PM, because we had church. Thursday night, we got home at 9:30, because we had choir. Last night was a normal night. We got home at a decent time of 5:30. So you see, I've gone from being a home maker to a never-home-woman. Throws one for a loop, ya know.

So yeah. Those are my reasons. Excuses. Whatever you'd like to call them. And now, I am off to work on that project I mentioned. Or perhaps, on my Not Me Monday post. Or even on some other randomly scheduled posts.

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