Just For Now

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perspective

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

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

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

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

Are You Ready?

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

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

This One Thing...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Half full, or...

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

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

Driven By Eternity - Day 8

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Matthew 24:36-41

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

Flop Flop Slap

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

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

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

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

Driven By Eternity - Day 1.

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

"No one can begin to understand eternity."

Job 3:26, TLB

"He has put eternity in their hearts."

Ecclesiastes 3:11

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

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

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

(Pages 4, 5)

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

Life.

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

Thoughts. Words. Deeds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy-sad.

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

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

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

Time.

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

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

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

briefing

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

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

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

I Wish I Knew...

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

Once Again...

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

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

Unfounded Fear

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

Bring The Rain
~Mercy Me

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

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

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

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

Holy, holy, holy
Is the Lord God Almighty

Am I Still?

I look at the title of this blog, and think back to when I started it. Almost exactly four months back. At that time I could see so clearly that I was (and was continuing to be) living proof of God's goodness and grace. The past month or so, I've been struggling. Struggling more than I have even considered admitting to anyone. And worse than that, lately, I've not been struggling. Just complacent. And that's even worse.
Tonight I am pondering this - if someone is watching me for evidence of who God is, and what He can do - will they see any proof? Or have I been so negligent as to let my fire grow dim and my zeal grow cold? And I wonder, have I encountered those who are reaching out, and been so wrapped up in myself that I haven't seen or haven'g care? How many times?
I need to change. And I'm seeing that I'm going to need help to do that. It's scary to reach out and ask for this... I'm afraid of getting hurt even more. Or what if when I reach out, I just get told the things I already know - it's time to move on; she'd want me strong, she'd want me happy; think of the needs of others and get over myself; draw closer to God; spend more time in His word; Christ will never leave; I'll see her again. All true. And all things I already know and am trying my best to implement. I need more than knowing those. I need help. And I don't like admitting that, don't like asking, and most of all, don't like that I've let it get this bad before doing anything about it.

Mother's Day

48 hours from now, I'll be getting ready to turn in for the night. And then, when I wake up, it will be Mother's Day. An interesting day for me. I have a mother. She, like every other person on this planet, is imperfect. Flawed. Broken. But she is my mother. And she gave me life. Not only that - she's done so much to make my life better. She doesn't see it, and doesn't believe it. But I am glad she is my mother. I wouldn't trade her for anything. Few people can love with the intensity she does.
In spite of this... I will be spending a large portion of Mother's Day alone, at least physically. I will go to church... I need that. I know I do. As soon as that first service is over, I will walk into the parking lot and get into my car. If I am crying, I will gain composure. I will find a greenhouse, and buy a flower. Then I will drive to the little cemetary in the country. I'll park my vehicle. I'll walk down a gravel path, cross over dirt and grass. Sit beside an unmarked grave. The resting place of the greatest woman I've ever known. Well... not HER resting place. Her body's resting place. There, I will plant the flower. I've given her a plant every year of my life. And I can't give her anything now. But by doing this, I feel like maybe it's a way to remember, a way to honor her. I don't know how long I will stay. Maybe it will be for five minutes. Or maybe five hours. Maybe more. I really don't know.